#Yoo jimin hard thoughts

[choerrysjubiles]

Lovin' So Good

Pairing: Karina x fem!reader

Warning: Smut! Strap-on sex and cunnilingus

Wc: 1.2k

A/n: I love women

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Look at you.”

Karina looked down at you with hungry eyes. Your hair splayed out with a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. She began teasing her strap against your folds, dipping it inside you before pulling out.

“Mmm, Rina.” You whined.

“What’s wrong?”

“Please put it in.”

“So soon? Come here.” She beckoned you closer.

You sat up, seeing her move the strap closer to your lips.

“Taste yourself.”

You lick across the head of the strap, tasting your cum. Groaning around it as Karina pulled it away from you.

“Good girl.” She said, leaning down to kiss you.

“So good.” She moans, tasting your cum on your lips.

Pushing you down, you feel her breasts rub against yours. Both of you groaning at the stimulation. Her fingers move to your folds before swiping the strap through them. You feel the strap rub against your clit, making your hips jerk upwards.

“Rina.” You gasp.

“Should I put it in?”

“Please.”

She spreads your thighs open, swirling the tip around your clit and folds before pushing into your pussy. Your back began arching, feeling her stretch you out. When she bottoms out, she held your hips still, leaning down to continue kissing you.

Her warm tongue dragging across your lips and teeth to distract you from the strap. After some kisses you tell her she can move. Sliding in and out, your hand snakes down to lightly rub your clit.

“Baby, you’re going so well.”

Karina was whispering into your ear as she slowly speeds up.

“Does that feel good?” She asked.

“Yes.” You moaned.

You gripped onto her waist.

“More.”

“More?”

“Please.” You looked up at her, glossy eyes pleading up at her.

“Good girl.”

Karina moved back, stretching her back before rolling her hips into yours. Her hands replaced your fingers, sliding against your clit as she kept the strap thrusting into the deepest reaches of your core.

“Rina!” You moan.

“Yes?”

“Keep going.” You’re panting, feeling so good from how deep she’s hitting into you.

“I’m not slowing down.” She smirked.

She was rolling her hips so well against yours, probably to stimulate her own clit while fucking you. Your back began arching while your hips tried thrust against hers. You continued panting, feeling moans boil from your chest as she continued pleasuring you.

“So pretty.” Karina tweaked at your nipple.

Your legs jolted and began folding at her teasing.

“Does my princess like that?”

“Yes!”

Her hips never let up, pulling far out before thrusting all the way in, your pussy was clenching around her, feeling so full as she fucked you. As your high was approaching, Karina thrusted all the way in and stayed still.

“No.” You whined.

Her fingers were still rubbing your clit, grinding her clit into the strap harness as you were bucking your hips onto her strap. Feeling closer than ever, her hips retracted before thrusting back into your core. Your head threw back, grabbing onto the sheets before you felt yourself clench with a loud “oh.”

Karina’s hips stilled as her fingers stayed glued to your clit, rubbing you out of your orgasm.

“Look at you,” Karina said, seeing your flushed face look up at her.

“So fucked out.”

She laid a kiss onto your lips, “Can you fuck me?”

“Yes.” You gasped out.

You watched her take the harness off, wrapping it around you before laying on her back. You kneeled in front of her, leaning down to lick at her wet pussy. Tasting her sweet arousal was always a treat. Her hands held your head in place as you licked her up. Slurping and flicking at her clit before leaning away to align the strap with her.

You slowly pushed in, letting her get used to the size of the strap. All the way in, you leaned forward, your mouth connected with her breast as she let you move. Your tongue swirled around her nipple as your hips began moved in and out of her.

You let your hand move down to rub her clit, thumb carefully circling the muscle as her moans grew louder.

“Right there.” Her hands gripped onto your head, keeping you in place at her breast.

You continued sucking her breast, tongue flicking the bud as you sped your hips up, snapping into her pussy as you wrapped your free hand around her arching back.

Beginning to lift Karina up, you continued pounding into her core, letting her melt into your arm as you pleasured her as much as you could.

“Fuck, yes.” Karina moaned.

Her hands moved to her clit, yours holding her upwards as you continued pumping up into her. Her head fell back, floating in the air as she was engulfed in pleasure. Your mouth now sucked hickeys against her flesh and hips snapping even faster into her core.

“Keep going, I’m gonna cum!” Her head rolled to the side, face flushed a light red.

You pulled the strap out of her.

“Wait!” She gasped.

You moved her onto her hands and knees, sliding the strap against her folds.

“Please put it in.” She whined.

In a fluid motion, you pushed in, holding onto her hips to slowly fuck her onto the strap. After some whines your hips began thrusting against her, a light slapping sound of your hips hitting her ass was heard as your hand snaked around her hip to rub her clit.

“Keep going.”

You continued thrusting, seeing Karina slowly come undone. Hearing her drawn out moan as she froze in place. You held the strap deep inside her as she clenched around it, letting her cool down and ask you to pull out.

As you pulled the strap out, you leaned down to slurp up the cum leaking out of her.

“Y/n!”

“Sorry, baby, you’re just so sweet.” You continued licking at her entrance, “How can I not drink you up?”

Her thighs continued shaking as you licked her cum up.

“Come here.”

She leaned onto her side, stretching her legs to let your head hang there. You did the same, your tongue lapping at her folds as she began licking at yours. Her tongue was sharp and stretched while you lapped at her with broad, flat strokes. Trying to suck up as much cum as she could give.

“Right there, Rina.”

You looked down at her eager tongue lapping at you. You continued flicking your tongue against her clit, spreading her folds to give heavy, broad licks against her core. Her tongue was carefully licking at you, flicking just enough before lapping at your entrance.

Her fingers moved to rub your clit as she sucked a hickey against your thigh. Your hips began jerking as you sucked on her clit, feeling her grow stiff before more cum dripped out of her pussy. Your mouth attached to her, drinking up her arousal as it dripped onto her thigh.

You felt her lick more at you until you came. Your head feeling light as you felt her fingers continued rubbing your clit. A breathy moan escaping you as you slowly came, feeling it wash over you as her fingered prodded at your core. You felt a high, drawn out sigh escape your lungs as you came.

[wonysugar]

My mind keeps imagining g!p wony x sub reader x g!p Karina, like🤭🤭 Both of them having unnie kink and breeding kink? USGSIAHAIAHAYA the woman they are😩

taking this as old ass ask as an opportunity to write some drabbles for you guys while i finish up my draftss cause i know that you guys are starving rn😭i’m so sorry for the longg wait, i promise i’m trying my hardest to get them done as fast as i can, please bare with me🙏

cw!! g!p, breeding kink, unnie kink, free-use, college au

so uhm they’re both hung. SORRY, I SAID IT… THEY’RE BOTH HUNG SUE ME LITERALLY SUEE MEEE!

now.. g!p wonyoung has basically all of us here on a chokehold, that much is obvious! however, i don’t think i’ve ever talked about g!p jimin on here? WEYLPP YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANSS THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHINGGG~~

so what is the deal with these two? well i’ll tell you what; losers, the both of them, two actual massive fawking nerds!! they will always be caught at the library studying for mid terms,, either that or they’re in their dorm playing overwatch and valorant all day long😭😭losers trapped in hot bodies i fear

jimin and wonyoung considered you a friend ever since you asked the two of them to help you study the material, since their grades are practically outrageous.. so yeah you guys are just overall suuuuper chill and gawsh they just really appreciate your presence altogether it’s all happy and jolly! they’re a year above you, which probably explains the giggly and jittery reaction they both get when you call them your unnies… they can’t help but to baby you all the time!

some day, they innocently invite you over to their dorm, yknow just asking to order food and study together and whatnot, perhaps getting on val afterwards for shits and giggles.. you accept, of course, because why would you pass up an opportunity to improve your grades with two of the best students in your program, let alone a hang out between friends?

when you do get there, the dorm is clean and tidy, just as you’d expect from such model students. you do end up studying for about an hour and a half, that is until wonyoung suggests taking a break, wearing a warm smile as she adjusts her glasses.

“why don’t we stop for a little bit, hm?” she says, closing the book in front of you as she throws quick glances at jimin, they seem innocent enough, so you paid no mind to those.

jimin only nodded, liking the idea and gently putting her hand on your arm, “it is indeed very important to regularly take breaks when studying. plus, you’ve worked hard today, don’t you think, baby?”

in a usual situation, you wouldn’t be at all fazed by the pet name she used, since the two girls basically call you that every chance they get. however, you don’t know if it was jimin’s hand caressing your arm at that moment or the way that wonyoung was staring at your eyes that made you especially nervous, perhaps it was both, but you nodded to her words regardless.

she was right, after all, breaks are very necessary to a productive study session.

however, you quickly grasped that the ‘break’ in question would last much, much longer than you expected when jimin’s lips were suddenly trailing kisses down your neck whilst wonyoung caressed your hair.

“unnie—“ you reached out for her hand, more and more adrenaline rushing through your body with each kiss that jimin left on your soft skin.

and because that honorific just drives the both of them FAWKING crazy, “your unnies will take good care of you, okay sweetheart?” is what she’d softly say, smiling. you’d nod, entranced, before feeling her soft lips on yours. you knew there was no turning back when they eventually grabbed your two hands and made you feel their visible and poking hard-ons, which got you embarrassingly riled up to a great extent.

the rest is history, really. you never in a million years would’ve thought a ‘study session’ would end up with having jimin fuck you missionary, watching how her cock disappears inside you as she slowly thrusts into you and moans your name whilst wonyoung fucked your throat, nestling her slender fingers into your hair guiding your head to bob up and down her length ahehehefheh

when both of them are close to cumming, i feel like they’d be the types to not even tell you, lowkey.. especially jiminfcksmdm she’d just be so lost in the sensation of how good her cock feels fucking your tight, wet cunt that she’d just carelessly shoot her load into you as if you were just some sex toy,,, she can’t help it!! she wants to mark you as much as she can, even if that meant potentially knocking you u— [GUNSHOTS]

also it is important to mention that while jimin lovesss fucking your pussy, wonyoung is absolutely a head girlie.. she’d much rather have you down on her knees and sucking her dick than fucking you. don’t get her wrong, she’ll still dick you down if you asked her to, she just prefers using the pretty mouth that calls her ‘unnie’ way more aheheh

you’d just be straight up lying if you said that you didn’t yearn for more of them after that day… especially after having the many changes that your relationship with them had gone through. back then, they’d stare at you with innocent eyes, gaze warm and polite when seeing you, waving at you. now? they were basically eyefucking you and smirking at you everytime they saw you in the hallways.

it didn’t take long for them to take that to the next level,, omg next level by aespa— [NUKES] SORRY. but yeah sometimes even pulling you away from your nerdy friend group to have a quickie in the bathroom just because they know you’ll let them use your body at random times of the daycjenfkd they’re unhinged i fear! using your exams as an excuse,, saying shit like “but it’s important to relax and relieve stress before an exam!” before proceeding to dick you down in a stall likee.. right, right..

of course, you live for every second of it and they know it, but acting all innocent and oblivious towards their advances when really, you’re already soaked by the time that you’re on your way to their dorm so you can suck them off after they text you to come over is all part of the funkdjsndm

[ratedfleur]

heaven and back 

aespa karina x fem!reader  2k word count   genre  ౨ৎ explicit

🎥: your roomie, karina just wants to be a helping hand to get you to unwind, but then lust pays a visit once liquor is in your systems.

🎀: requested work.

🏷️: smut (MINORS DNI), fem bodied reader, pwp (no plot me thinks), drinking / liquor,  grinding / dirty dancing, brief petting, thigh riding, cunnilingus, brief stomach pressing, fingering, heavy on narration.

🔞 / nsfw links: imagine mood boards (1) & (2)

🎼: heaven and back - chase atlantic

going out with karina on a weekend meant dealing with the devil, she always turned into some type of maniac when she was out and about, getting drunk after drinking a bottle or two.

a quarter past 2 am, you found yourself sitting by the bar, attempting to sober up despite your roommate ordering more drinks from the bar, even holding up the glass rim to your lips, making you drink it as she drunkenly smiled and giggled, cooing when she sees that a slither of liquor slipped from the corners of your lips when she tilts the glass a little too high. 

“o-ooh! sorry baby!” karina hiccuped as she giggled, wiping the drop of liquor with her thumb before popping it into her mouth, sucking it clean.

then you watched as she drank another glass of whatever liquor she purchased, downing it as if it was a glass of water. 

karina shot you a look before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “y/n, you need to loosen up! why are you so boring!” karina asked as she held onto your shoulder, shaking you back and forth as she spoke in a slur.

shaking your head at her, you looked over at your watch before looking right back at karina who suddenly had a new row of glasses in front of her, all filled to the brim. 

“you need to loosen up, darling. come on, drink up and let’s have fun!” karina’s voice started to increase in volume when the music in the club started to get louder. 

maybe karina was right, you thought as you reached for a glass, eyes suddenly shy when you caught of karina’s expectant ones. 

she watched you with intent, a smile forming on her face as your lips touched the rim of the glass as you threw your head back as you downed the glass of liquor. 

proudly smiling as you took another glass, karina immediately grabbed a glass for herself and drank before downing another with you as she linked arms with you, cheering out loud before pulling you onto the dance floor. 

her body was smoothly moving against yours, karina always turned into a swan when she was on the dance floor, body immediately knowing how to move along to the beat.

karina had her front against your back, swaying and even subtly grinding against you as she played it off as if she was simply dancing. 

she always had a thing for you, especially when she met eyes with you when you knocked on her door asking if the spare bedroom was still up for rent. 

you could feel her hands plant themselves on your hips, pulling you closer to her as she grinded against you shamelessly. from the way karina was pressed against you, you could feel every bump and curve of her as she moved against your back.

karina even moved your hips against hers along to the beat, singing along to the songs to her heart’s content as she shamelessly moved and danced. 

swiftly turning around, your hands made their way around karina’s neck, hands meeting each other as you pulled karina closer towards you, singing along to the song as you both swayed along to the beat, slowly inching closer towards each other, leaving no space between you two.

by now, the close proximity between you two was getting to your heads, making your mind go cloudy as they filled up with lust as you both pulled each other closer towards the other, faces merely a few inches apart from each other. 

karina’s eyes shifted from your lips and your eyes that stared at her own cat like eyes that moved up and down your features, lips slowly etching a smile before she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss as she closed her eyes. 

it was short and yet impactful, her lips fit like a puzzle piece, fitting perfectly against each other’s. karina’s teeth sunk into your bottom lip as she pulled away, making you whimper as she let go of your bottom lip, smiling at you with such a teasing look in her eyes. 

“let’s get outta here and unwind, yeah?” karina said as she leaned into your ear, quite literally screaming into it as the music blasted against the walls of the club. 

watching as you nodded in response to her question, karina quickly placed a kiss on your lips before pulling you out of the dance floor and towards the bar, not forgetting to pay with one of her hands heavily pressed against your ass, shamelessly groping you in public as she smiled at you sweetly before pulling you out of the club and into a cab that drove you both to the apartment.

her hands were planted on your body the moment that you both stepped foot into the apartment, lips pressed against each other’s as you two blindly walked in the hallway as you kissed, teeth clashing against each other as you both attempted to nip at each other’s lips, giggling when it fails. 

you pull her towards the living room, pushing her to sit on the couch before you quickly shrugged off your top, doing the same with your long skirt as your eyes were transfixed on karina who was clumsily taking off her tube dress, throwing it on the ground along with your clothes that you dropped.

you went over to hover on top of karina’s lap as her lips latched themselves on your skin, kissing your skin softly as she went from your under boob, over your breast and nipple that she popped into her mouth briefly before moving upwards, stopping at your neck as she sucked and nipped, putting a few marks on your skin as you sighed in content, hips grinding against her lap as you shivered. 

feeling you shamelessly moved on top of her, karina slouched a bit before grabbing a hold of your thigh, lifting it before shifting you over for you to sit on her thigh, smiling at you when she feels your wetness hit her thigh. 

blushing as you sat on her thigh, your eyes cowered under karina’s gaze as she held you closer towards her, encouraging you to rock on her thigh.

moaning when you do rock on karina’s thigh, she even helps you move and grind harder on her thigh, rocking you back and forth. 

karina flexes her thigh, making you gasp when you grind harder against her, hips hurriedly moving back and forth as you held onto her shoulders for leverage. 

her eyes were drunkenly watching you, liking the sight of you on top of her as you pleasured yourself using her body. inching herself closer to you, her mouth found your tits, one hand teasing the other as she sucked and flicked her tongue on tit she had in her mouth.

all you could do was whimper, your hips started to shake as you rocked against her thigh in a broken rhythm, mind focusing on how her mouth felt against your breast.

your hands hastily went and held the back of karina’s head, pulling her closer to you as you went back to rocking back and forth her thigh, moaning out her name in ecstasy. 

she smiles against your tit before popping off and switching over to the other, playing fair and square as she touched you. karina’s other hand was wrapped around your waist, still helping you to move back and forth against her. 

“haahh.. rina-yah, i’m close!” you gasped, feeling karina flex her thigh again underneath you. she hums against your tit before speaking with a mouthful of you, “then cum, we’ve got all the time to ourselves.” karina replies. 

sighing in content, you shake in her hold, legs quivering underneath you as you soaked karina’s thigh with your cum and slick, making a mess on the couch. 

karina rubbed your hip in comfort, feeling you pant against her as you placed your head on her shoulder, arms wrapping around her waist for comfort.

“i— i wanna make you feel good too, rina-yah.” you mutter, lips placing kisses on her shoulder as karina hummed, “up to you, baby. tonight is all about you though.” 

you shake your head, shakily sitting yourself up before you looked right into karina’s eyes, “i want it to be about us both.” you say before leaning in, kissing her softly before pulling away, getting on the floor in between karina’s legs which you pushed open, watching as her sweet slick dripped on the couch.

you reached from underneath her thighs before pulling her towards you, having karina’s lower half just dangling off the couch with you right in between her thighs. 

inching closer, you blew on her pussy briefly, making karina shudder before blushing when you chuckle, coming closer towards her cunt before sticking your tongue out, flicking her clit back and forth with the tip. 

her moans are rich in volume, sound bouncing off the walls of the apartment you both shared. karina’s hands gravitated towards your head, strands of hair getting lost in between her fingers as she grabbed a hold of them, pulling at your hair to pull you closer towards her cunt.

your eyes were fixated on karina, watching as she threw her head back, eyes closed as she moaned wantonly, feeling your fingers slip into her cunt before slipping in and out as you curled them inside of her. 

your fingers continued to work with magic as you felt karina’s cunt pulse around your fingers, thighs shaking as the tips of your fingers started to press against her gummy spot, making karina’s eyes roll back as she moaned in content, eyes turning teary when you press too hard at her spot whilst your other hand pressed her stomach, putting just enough pressure that has karina whining and moaning your name. 

she gasps when you poke deep into her cunt whilst your tongue busily licked at her clit, still flicking back and forth at her swollen nub that slowly grew red after all of the touching and sucking on it. 

karina’s whimpers start to gradually increase in volume, slowly erupting into loud moans as she called out your name, nearly screaming as you picked up the pace and fingered her. your fingers are busily curling in and out of her cunt, reaching deep inside of her as you slurped up her slick that dribbled out of her hole, not letting a drop get wasted.

you licked her up with a glint in your eyes, fixated on her pleasured expressions as she looked down on you, watching your face that was hidden deep in between her thighs, squeezing the sides of your head as she squirmed underneath you.

karina shuddered before she warned you, voice shaky as she spoke to you, hands pulling at your hair to pull you closer towards her cunt as your tongue inched even closer towards her if it was possible.

“are you close already?” you murmur fondly against her cunt, watching as karina nodded tearfully, now rocking her cunt against your face, flesh rubbing against flesh as you moaned when you get a mouthful of karina’s cunt. 

soon enough, karina couldn’t resist but prop her thighs on top of your shoulders as you knelt closer towards karina’s body, moaning as you pulled your fingers out of her before you delved deep into her cunt with your tongue, stilling it deep inside of her as you hummed, vibrating tones spreading all over karina’s body which causes her to shake and moan your name with a screech before she started to shake as she came all over your mouth, eyes rolling in ecstasy when she feels you slurping and drinking all of her cum up.

“just went to heaven and back, yeah?” you say with a smirk, pulling away from in between karina’s thighs with your lips all glossy from her slick and chin damp which yuo wiped away using the back of your hand, watching as karina blushed profusely as she nodded.

© RATEDFLEUR — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[sserasin]

hey !! love ur acc <3 may i request karina g!p x fem!r, including mommy kink, age gap, over stimulating after sex, reader virginity loss, anddd dacryphilia? tysm !! also, if you’re considering taking anons, may I be 🇦🇷 anon?

hi !! thank you and of course ! <3 you’re my first anon lol. also after i wrote this i realized i didnt add the age gap im sorryyy😭😭

seconds, thirds, and fourths

cw nsfw under cut, g!p karina, female reader, unprotected sex, mommy kink, virginity loss, overstimulation, dacryphilia, fingering (r. receiving), oral (r. receiving)

“you’re so pretty,” karina whispers in awe, finger trailing down your chest, down your stomach, down your thigh and back up. you shudder.

“rina…” you whimper, nudging her side with your knee. “please.”

“you gotta be more specific than that, baby,” she presses a teasing kiss to your hip, lust filled eyes looking up at you from her position in between your legs. your core aches, despite you just laying there.

you roll your head back, “please … give me more.”

“more?” karina hums and you almost groan out, blinking back frustrated tears.

“mommy…” she immediately stops fucking around, eyes growing darker at the new name. “please fuck me already.”

“yeah?” karina smiles a vicious grin against your skin, “you want mommy to take your virginity?”

your toes curl at the thought, blinking so hard you saw colored spots, “yes, yes.”

karina’s hand reaches down to your core, eyes never leaving yours. your cheeks burn red, your heat pulsating, as you desperately search your brain for something to distract you. “did you know you have two heartbeats?”

“what?” she smiles, two fingers running through your wet folds over your panties. your arousal had soaked your panties, making karina’s cock twitch in her pants.

you shudder, “like… i heard sometimes you can … can feel your heartbeat, uh,” you nod your head down slightly, “down there.”

“oh,” karina says, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh and glancing up at you from under her eyelashes, “they’re right. i can.” oh. oh god. you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, making her giggle. “can i take these off?”

“yes…” you say meekly. can’t she already tell your answer would be yes?

“good girl,” she pats your thigh before hooking her fingers under your panties and tugging them down. she throws them to the side aimlessly, eyes immediately lowering to your pussy. without realizing, she grinds her hips down onto bed.

feeling shy, you go to cover yourself up but she quickly pins your hands down on the bed, “don’t cover up, you’re gorgeous, okay?” her eyes are sincere as she looks at you, “i love you.”

you smile shakily, “i love you too,” you breathe out, shifting lightly, “can you touch me now?”

karina laughs, “so impatient, but whatever my baby wants.” it’s like she flips a switch, going from sincere to lustful so quickly. it almost gives you whiplash. her fingers collect your arousal, making eye contact with you as she spreads your folds with her fingers.

your head turns, not able to keep eye contact with her, letting out a soft moan as she slowly enters a finger in your hole. you immediately clench around her finger, making her grin to herself as she gives you a second to adjust. once you give her the okay, she adds another finger.

your back arches, a whimper leaving your mouth before she soothes you with kisses, “it’s okay, i’m sorry, baby,” karina’s fingers begin to scissor you open, back arching off the bed before her free hand pushes you back on the bed. you glance down at her hand on your lower stomach— and, god. they were right when they said it was hot. throwing your head back, you moan.

“you’re doing so well for me,” karina whispers, now knuckle deep and she curls her fingers, aiming for a specific spot. “such a good girl for mommy.”

“hurry up,” you whine breathlessly, moving your head back and forth. you didn’t want to wait any longer.

“hurry up, what?” she teases, wrist beginning to hurt but she didn’t care. not when you’d be coming undone on her fingers and cock soon.

“hurry up, mommy,” you look down at her right as her fingers hit the soft, gummy spot. a loud moan abruptly leaves your mouth, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“found it,” karina grins before saying, “i won’t go easy on you, then, baby.”

“f-fine, whatever! just hur—” your words are cut off by her fingers starting to slam into that same spot— over and over. it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit, toes curling as you come around her fingers with a loud moan of “mommy!”

“atta girl,” she pats your thigh, taking her fingers and putting them in her mouth, licking them clean. your eyes open blearily, watching her do so as you feel your come drip on your thigh.

despite looking out of it, you want more. and she’s so happy to give it to you.

“ah, ah, ah!” you whimper in pain as her cock slowly slides in, stopping a few times for a breather. you squeeze your eyes shut, legs moving involuntarily to help distract the pain, “‘t hurts, mommy.”

“i know,” she reassures you, “but it’ll be okay in a minute.” she didn’t lie, the pain and discomfort turning into pleasure a minute later.

the “okay” doesn’t even fully leave your mouth before she’s pulling out and slamming right back into your sopping hole.

“oh, fuck—” she groans, feeling your tight hole clench around her. “god, you’re so— fuck, you take my cock so well, baby. it’s like we fit perfectly, like you were made for me and my cock.”

you moan at the quick, harsh slap on your thigh as she puts one of your legs above her shoulder and then the other for better access. the position makes you blush, but it feels too good to stop.

“mommy, mommy,” you grip onto her shoulders, “please, please.”

your endless babbles don’t make any sense, but she understands.

her cock fills you up to the brim as she hammers into you, hips meeting your ass with each thrust. little whimpers leave your mouth at the quick pace, and she intertwines her fingers with yours comfortingly, despite the thrusts never relenting.

her balls slap against your skin loudly, grunts filling the room, “gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

you don’t answer, moaning uncontrollably loud as the head of her cock slams against your cervix.

“answer,” she hums, pecking your lips sweetly.

“yes, yes, mommy,” you sob, feeling tears sting around your closed eyes. “please give it to m-me, i’ll be so—so good, mommy—”

karina moans at your words, feeling your hips grind up against her, “yeah? you’ll give me as many as i want?”

“yes, anything!” you cry out, free hand clawing at her back. “please, can i cum?”

“of course,” she coos, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit harshly. “let it go, baby.”

a broken moan leaves your lips as you reach your peak, body shaking. karina stares down at you, mouth forming into an ‘o’ as she releases into your womb.

you sigh in relief at the feeling of being full, clenching around her softening cock. your eyes are closed, feeling out of it from pleasure as she pulls out of you with a wince, and you think that’s all there is to it— that she’ll help you clean up before you go to bed.

karina isn’t that nice.

you’re being pulled by your ankles to the end of the bed, karina suddenly now on her knees. you blink your eyes open, “w-wha—”

“oh, you didn’t think i was done, did you?” her brows raise at your widened eyes. she smirks, leaning her head down. “i still have to clean you up. you’re filthy, baby. look at you.”

you look at yourself. and she’s right, her come and your come are seeping out of you, getting the sheets dirty. you whimper slightly at the sight, feeling yourself get even more bothered.

“don’t worry, though,” karina is grinning smugly as she speaks, “mommy’s gonna clean you up.”

before you can say anything, she licks a long strip up your folds. your hips buck up and she smiles before latching on your clit. her lips are wrapped around your clit, sucking lightly as she tastes your shared come. she moans at the taste, pulling back lightly, “you taste so good.” before she’s back at it again.

your legs wrap around her shoulders, trying to pull her as close to you as possible. her tongue flicks at your clit, and you moan loudly, “m-mommy,” you pant, “i- f-“ you can’t even finish your train of thought before a series of moans leave your lips when she fucks her tongue in and out of your gaping hole.

your hips twist off the bed when she shakes her head back and forth, head making a dent in the mattress as your head is thrown back. you blink back tears of pleasure as she never once comes up for air, holding you down by your hips now.

you can practically hear her slurping your juices up, making your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “ah, mo—mommy, right t-there!” your hand comes to her hair, pressing her where you need her and you feel the tightening in your stomach begin to uncoil. you can’t hold your tears back this time as she never pauses, pressing her tongue further into you.

“oh, f-fuck—” your hips stutter against her hands as your third orgasm rushes through you, feeling your body sink into the bed. she pulls back for air, your juices coating her lower face and you can feel your hole clench around nothing at the sight. you can feel the salty tears run down your cheeks, tasting it.

“i knew you could give it to me,” she smiles, before her head is lowering again. your eyes are wide, trying to push her head away now as her mouth wraps around your clit, again. her thumb rubs at your hip soothingly, but you hardly notice.

“n-no, don’t—” she doesn’t listen, locking her arms around your legs, “it’s too much!” you cry out, feeling more tears leak out your eyes. your ears start to ring, feeling a cramp in your leg as she never relents on your clit, abusing it even as you try and continue to push her away.

you come for the fourth and final time with a scream, sobbing out as you twist away from her. your entire body is trembling as she finally pulls away, licking her lips clean of your essence.

“i think i want to eat you for every meal, baby,” she smiles.

you shake your head, tears still streaming down as she brings herself up next to you. she presses a soft kiss to your cheek, kissing away the tears and wiping what she couldn’t get.

“was that good, baby?” karina asks softly and you can only push her away weakly, making her laugh. she pulls you closer, nuzzling her face into your neck. “i know that i enjoyed my dessert.” she pulls back, “you want seconds?”

you throw her a bewildered look, making her start a giggling fit at the expression, and you clear your throat to speak, but your voice is still hoarse from being so vocal, “fuck you, that was seconds, thirds, and fourths!”

karina throws her head back, cackling loudly, “because it was so good!”

“shut up,” you pout, turning away from her. “go to sleep.”

“a nap after being filled up is always a good idea,” she hums, giggling when you groan.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Before the World Knew

Part 1

Yoo Jimin (Karina) x male reader

word count: 20K

The automatic glass doors hiss shut behind you, sealing you back into the humid chaos of a Seoul afternoon. You shove your hands deep into your pockets, shoulders slumped, the stiff collar of the button-down you wore specifically for this interview suddenly feeling like a noose. "Nailed it", you think. Yeah, right.

Nailed it like a coffin lid.

That interview was a fucking train wreck. Stuttering over standard questions, sweating through your shirt despite the blasting AC, pretty sure you called the interviewer by the wrong name at least once. You can practically feel the rejection email drafting itself in their system right now. Landing a decent PR job in this city is proving harder than cracking Fort Knox with a toothpick. You thought graduating with a Public Relations degree, even from a university abroad, would give you some kind of edge. Turns out, it just makes you another drop in an ocean teeming with overqualified, hyper-competitive graduates who probably know the right people (something you definitely lack).

It's been a few weeks since you touched down at Incheon, hauling two overweight suitcases and a boatload of naive optimism. Seoul. The big leagues. You figured, new city, new start, maybe finally shake off that aimless post-college dread. You found a shoebox apartment that costs a criminal amount of money and have been pounding the pavement, digitally and literally, trying to find something, anything, that doesn’t involve fetching coffee or making copies for peanuts. So far? Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Just a growing pile of polite "we'll keep your resume on file" emails and the soul-crushing realization that your savings account is evaporating faster than puddle water in August.

Only a divine miracle would be able to make you feel anything remotely close to happiness now.

You sigh, kicking at a loose pebble on the sidewalk. The city rushes around you, a blur of impeccably dressed office workers, delivery scooters weaving through traffic like suicidal insects, the distant thrum of k-pop blasting from a storefront. It’s overwhelming, vibrant, and right now, utterly indifferent to your dwindling prospects. You just want a decent meal and maybe to wallow in front of Netflix for twelve hours straight.

Lost in your pity party, you don't see the person turning the corner until it's too late. Thump. You stumble back, colliding shoulders hard enough to knock the phone clean out of their hand. It clatters onto the pavement with a sickening plastic crack.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, my bad!" you blurt out, scrambling to pick it up, praying the screen isn't spiderwebbed. You snatch the phone (miraculously intact) and look up to hand it back, apology ready on your lips.

And then your brain just… stops.

Everything stops. The noise of the city, the frantic rush, the self-pity spiral: it all evaporates. Because the person standing in front of you, rubbing their shoulder with a slight wince, eyes wide behind a pair of large, stylish sunglasses… No. It can't be.

She’s smaller than you remember, but the face… fuck, that face. The perfect, almost unreal symmetry, the sharp jawline softened by full cheeks, the distinctive curve of her lips, currently pressed into a thin line of surprise. Even with the sunglasses and a simple baseball cap pulled low, obscuring most of her hair, it's undeniably her. Years have passed, sure. She’s changed. She’s… Karina now, a name screamed by millions, plastered on billboards, dominating charts. But beneath the idol gloss, beneath the global fame, it’s still her.

It's still Jimin. Yoo Jimin. Your childhood best friend. The girl you haven't spoken to since she vanished into the K-Pop trainee vortex years ago.

She takes the phone, her fingers brushing yours for a split second, sending a jolt up your arm that has nothing to do with static electricity. Her gaze flicks up, meeting yours through the dark lenses. You see confusion flicker there, then a dawning recognition that mirrors your own shock.

Her lips part slightly. “No way…”

Her voice. It’s softer than you remember, maybe a bit huskier, but it’s still Jimin’s voice. Hearing her say your name after all this time feels like being struck by lightning. You just stare, dumbfounded, unable to form a coherent thought.

She pushes her sunglasses up onto her head, revealing those large, dark eyes you used to get lost in during boring classes back home. They widen further as she really looks at you.

“Holy shit, it is you! Oh my god! What the hell are you doing here?”

The sheer, unadulterated surprise in her voice snaps you back to reality. You manage a shaky laugh, running a hand through your hair. “Jimin? Wow. Uh, hi.” Eloquent, very eloquent.

She laughs, a bright, musical sound that cuts through the city noise. It’s the same laugh you remember, the one that always made your stomach do stupid flips. “Hi? That’s all you’ve got after, what, six years? Seven?”

“Something like that,” you say, still reeling. “Damn. You, uh… you look…” Famous? Untouchable? Like a goddess who accidentally stumbled onto a mortal sidewalk? “…different.” Lame. You mentally kick yourself.

Jimin grins, the expression lighting up her whole face. It’s that specific grin, the one that crinkles the corners of her eyes. God, you missed that. “Yeah, well, a few things have happened since middle school.” She gestures vaguely, a hint of playful understatement in her tone.

“Yeah, no kidding,” you say, finally finding your footing. “Saw you… everywhere, basically. Aespa, huh? That’s insane, Jimin. Congratulations.”

Her smile softens slightly at the use of her real name. “Thanks. It’s… been wild.” She glances around quickly, lowering her voice a fraction. “But seriously, what are you doing in Seoul? Last I heard, you were going to college somewhere overseas?”

“Yeah, I was,” you explain, stuffing your hands back in your pockets. “Finished up my PR degree a few months back. Moved here a few weeks ago to, you know, try and find a job. Join the rat race.” You grimace, thinking of the disastrous interview. “Not going great so far, but hey, Seoul’s cool.”

Her eyes light up, genuine happiness flashing across her features. “You live here now? That’s amazing! Oh my god, I can’t believe it!” She bounces slightly on the balls of her feet, looking genuinely thrilled. The reaction warms something inside you that the job rejection had chilled.

“Yeah, it’s… definitely a change of pace,” you admit. It hits you again: you’re standing on a random street corner, catching up with Karina from Aespa. One of the biggest names in K-Pop. Your childhood friend, the one who disappeared into SM Entertainment and became someone else entirely. What are the actual, statistical chances of this happening? It feels like the universe is fucking with you, dangling a piece of your past right in front of your face when you least expect it. Fate? Maybe. Or just Seoul being a surprisingly small world sometimes.

“We have to catch up properly,” Jimin says immediately, her excitement palpable. “Like, actually talk. Are you busy right now?”

You glance down at your slightly rumpled interview clothes. “Uh, not exactly. Just finished bombing a job interview, so my schedule’s wide open for existential dread and instant noodles.”

She winces sympathetically, then pulls out her phone again (the one you nearly shattered). “Okay, first, give me your number. Is it still the same old one?” You rattle off your new Korean number, and she quickly taps it in, sending you a test message immediately. Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

It’s really you!!!

You look up, grinning. “Got it.”

“Good.” She slides her phone away, pulling her cap down a bit lower. “Look, I’m kind of on my way to practice right now, but are you free later this week? Or maybe this weekend? We could grab coffee? Drinks? Food? Whatever works.”

Hanging out with Jimin again. After all these years. After… everything.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, maybe a little too quickly. “Yeah, definitely. Coffee sounds great. Or drinks. Whatever’s easier for you, I know you’re probably crazy busy.”

“Never too busy for you,” she says, and the way she smiles; warm, genuine, a flash of the girl you knew before the fame… makes your heart do that stupid flip again. “Seriously, text me when you’re free. We’ll figure it out. It’s… it’s really, really good to see you.”

“You too, Jimin,” you reply, meaning it more than you thought possible. “Like, really fucking good.”

She laughs again, shaking her head. “Okay, I actually have to run before my manager sends out a search party.” She steps back, adjusting her cap and sunglasses, the idol persona clicking back into place. But just before she turns away, her eyes meet yours one last time, and there’s a spark there; something familiar, something you both thought was long buried.

“Text me!” she calls over her shoulder, before disappearing into the flow of the crowd, leaving you standing there, blinking in the afternoon sun, wondering if any of that actually just happened.

—

The days following that almost-too-surreal-to-be-true bump-in on the street are a weird blur of text messages and tentative plans. You’re talking to Yoo Jimin. Karina. Actually talking. Not just a polite exchange, but actual back-and-forth, interspersed with smiley faces and those little KakaoTalk character reactions she always overused, even back then. You finally manage to nail down a time to meet properly, a casual stroll through one of Seoul’s sprawling, meticulously landscaped parks. Her idea. Probably safer for her, less chance of being mobbed.

You tell yourself the knot in your stomach is just… nerves. Normal, run-of-the-mill nerves. Anyone would be a little keyed up about meeting a global superstar, right? Especially one you used to share juice boxes and secrets with in your dorky pre-teen years. Yeah, that’s it. It’s the Karina factor. Definitely not the Jimin factor, not the sudden, unwelcome resurgence of that colossal, all-consuming crush you thought you’d successfully buried under six years of distance and a different continent.

Nope. Not at all.

But your brain, the traitorous bastard, keeps replaying flashes of the past. Jimin, with her scraped knees and fierce determination during school sports days. Jimin, laughing so hard milk nearly shot out her nose in the cafeteria. Jimin, biting her lip in concentration while trying to teach you a ridiculously complicated handshake. These images, once faded and dusty, are now vivid, almost painfully sharp, overlaid with the equally mind-boggling reality of who she is now. It’s a strange cocktail, this potent nostalgia mixed with the sheer absurdity of her current life. You feel like you’re about to meet two people at once: the girl next door and the untouchable idol.

—

You spot her near the park entrance, leaning against a cherry tree that’s probably in full, glorious bloom (though you barely register the flowers). She’s wearing a dress today, something new, light, and airy that dances around her knees when the breeze catches it. It's a soft, pastel color that makes her skin look even more luminous. Simple, yet on her, it looks like it walked straight off a runway. Her hair is down, long and dark, catching the sunlight. Even from a distance, she’s ridiculously, effortlessly beautiful.

“Hey,” you say, trying for casual, hoping your voice doesn’t crack.

She turns, and that smile (the one that could probably power a small city) spreads across her face. “Hey yourself! You found it okay?”

“Yeah, a park. Pretty hard to miss,” you joke, falling into step beside her as you start down a wide, tree-lined path. It’s surprisingly uncrowded for a weekend afternoon.

The conversation flows easier than you expected, or maybe feared. You start with the safe stuff: how crazy it is to see each other after so long, the "what are the odds" of it all. She’s a natural in front of a camera, even if it’s just her phone. Every few minutes, she’ll stop, pointing. “Ooh, here! The light’s perfect.” And you, feeling like an unqualified, suddenly very sweaty personal photographer, do your best to capture her. She poses with an easy grace, a slight tilt of her head, a playful smile, a candid laugh as a gust of wind messes with her hair. Each shot is stunning. She’s just…photogenic doesn’t even begin to cover it. She makes a random park bench look like a high-fashion editorial.

“So,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear after a particularly enthusiastic mini-photoshoot by a koi pond, “tell me everything. College overseas must have been wild. Did you turn into some party animal I wouldn’t recognize?”

You laugh. “Hardly. Mostly just late-night study sessions fueled by questionable instant ramen and an unhealthy amount of caffeine. PR’s no joke. But it was good. Different. What about you? From quiet Jimin who was scared of the dark to… well, Karina, leader of Aespa, breaking records and being the it girl of this generation. How does that even happen?”

She chuckles, a soft, genuine sound. “It’s… a lot. Still feels unreal sometimes. The training was brutal, no lie. There were days I wanted to quit, thought I wasn’t good enough.” Her voice drops a little, a hint of vulnerability seeping through. “But then… we debuted, and suddenly everything changed. The fans, the music, performing… it’s a different kind of magic, you know?”

You nod, trying to imagine it. The Jimin you knew was fiercely talented, Always singing and dancing at school talent shows, but this level of fame? It’s on another planet. “I can’t even picture it. Standing on those huge stages, millions of people screaming your name.”

“It’s terrifying and amazing all at once,” she admits. “But enough about me. What about your job hunt? Any better luck since… the sidewalk incident?” She grins, and you groan.

“Marginally. Had a couple more interviews. One was for a junior PR role at a gaming company, actually sounded pretty cool, but I think I fumbled the ‘what’s your five-year plan?’ question. Said something about ‘not starving’ which, in hindsight, maybe wasn’t the power move I thought it was.”

Jimin laughs, bumping your shoulder playfully. “Hey, honesty is a virtue. Besides, gaming PR? You’d be great at that. You practically lived in arcades back in the day.”

“True. But ‘great at Street Fighter’ doesn’t exactly scream ‘hire me’ on a resume.” You sigh. “It’s tough out here, man. Competition’s insane.”

She nods, her expression turning more serious. “How are you managing? Like, financially? Seoul’s not cheap.”

You shrug, trying to keep it light. “Oh, you know. Freelance gigs here and there. Been doing some weekend shifts at a department store in Myeongdong, in the electronics section. Surprisingly good for people-watching. And it pays the bills. Barely.” You force a smile. “It’s fine. Temporary. Just until something in PR lands.”

Jimin stops walking, turning to face you properly. She’s biting her lip, a thoughtful expression in her eyes. “Send me your resume.”

“What?”

“Your resume,” she repeats, more firmly this time. “And your portfolio, if you have one. Anything that shows off your PR skills. I’ll send it to the team at SM.”

You can’t help it; a laugh bursts out of you, loud and incredulous. “Jimin, no. Come on.” You even raise your hands in a placating gesture. “I appreciate it, seriously, that’s incredibly sweet of you, but… SM Entertainment? They’re not going to hire some random, inexperienced guy who just rolled into the country. Especially not for their PR team. They probably have a waiting list a mile long of geniuses with connections.”

Her expression doesn’t waver. If anything, it becomes more determined. “Don’t doubt me. And don’t doubt yourself. You’re smart, you’re good with people, you get how things work. Just send it to me. What’s the worst that can happen? They say no? Big deal. You’re already getting that.”

There’s a conviction in her voice that’s hard to argue with, even though every rational part of your brain is screaming that this is a pipe dream. “I… I don’t want you to go out on a limb for me, Jimin. Especially if it’s for nothing.”

“It’s not for nothing if I believe in you, is it?” she says softly, and damn her, that hits you right in the feelings. “Just promise me you’ll send it. Please?”

You let out a long breath, rubbing the back of your neck. She’s looking at you with that earnest, hopeful expression, and you know you’re going to cave. “Okay, okay. I promise. I’ll send it tonight.” You still think it’s a snowball’s chance in hell, but for her? You’ll try.

She beams, her good mood instantly restored. “Good! It would be so crazy if we ended up working at the same place, wouldn’t it? Like fate, again!”

“Yeah,” you agree, a small, hesitant smile on your own face. “Completely insane.” But the thought, as outlandish as it seems, sparks a tiny, traitorous flicker of hope. It’s nice, you realize, to have someone in your corner. Someone who, despite the years and the fame, still seems to genuinely care.

“Ice cream break?” she suggests, pointing towards a small vendor cart surrounded by happy kids. “My treat. To celebrate your future employment at SM.”

“Don’t jinx it,” you groan, but you’re already following her, the weight on your shoulders feeling a little lighter than it did before.

The ice cream is sweet, cold, and a welcome distraction. You talk about lighter things: terrible movies you’ve both seen, the weirdest food trends in Seoul, the time you both tried to dye your hair with Kool-Aid in eighth grade and ended up looking like deranged parrots. It’s easy, comfortable, like no time has passed at all.

As the sun begins to dip lower, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you find yourselves back near the park entrance.

“This was… really great, Jimin,” you say, meaning it. “Thanks for today.”

“I had fun too,” she replies, her smile soft. “We definitely need to do this again. And sooner than another six years, okay?”

“Deal.”

She pulls out her phone. “Okay, one more photo. But this time, you have to be in it.”

You instinctively start to protest. “Oh, no, I’m good. I’ll just–”

“Nope! Non-negotiable,” she says, already switching to the front-facing camera. She grabs your arm, pulling you closer until your shoulders are pressed together. You’re acutely aware of her warmth, the faint scent of her perfume, the way her hair tickles your cheek. She holds the phone up, angling it for the perfect shot. “Okay, smile! Or… try not to look like you’re being held hostage.”

You manage a slightly stiff, awkward smile as she snaps a few pictures. She scrolls through them, a pleased expression on her face. “Cute! See? Not so bad.” She shows you one where you’re both actually smiling, the city lights just starting to twinkle in the background. It is cute. This crazy, unexpected reunion, now captured in a small digital frame.

She sends the photo to you, and as you look at it on your own screen, a feeling of… something warm, something hopeful, settles in your chest. Okay, maybe this move to Seoul wasn't a complete disaster after all. Maybe fate really does have a weird sense of humor. And maybe that spark you both felt isn't just a relic of the past.

—

You’re elbow-deep in a tangled mess of headphones and Bluetooth speakers at your soul-crushing electronics store job a few days later, trying to explain to a very persistent customer why his twenty-year-old MP3 player probably isn’t compatible with the latest Bose noise-cancelling monstrosities, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You almost ignore it (probably another scam likely call) but the insistent vibration continues. Excusing yourself with a strained smile, you fish it out.

Unknown number.

You almost swipe it away, but something makes you answer. “Hello?”

A clear female voice speaks your name.

“Uh, yes, it’s me,” you reply, already bracing for a sales pitch.

“This is Kim Hana from SM Entertainment’s Human Resources department. We received your resume regarding a potential opening in our Artist Relations team, specifically working with Aespa. Are you available for an interview later this week?”

Your brain short-circuits. SM Entertainment? Aespa? You almost swallow your tongue. The headphones in your hand slip, clattering onto the counter. The customer gives you a weird look. You try to speak, but only a strangled squeak comes out. Clearing your throat violently, you manage, “Excuse me? SM… Entertainment?”

“Yes,” Ms. Kim says, her voice betraying no hint of surprise at your shock. “Yoo Jimin forwarded your details. She spoke very highly of you. We have an opening for a Junior PR and Communications liaison for Aespa’s team. It involves assisting with press releases, social media coordination, and general support for the group's public-facing activities. Would Thursday at 2 PM work for you?”

Yoo Jimin. Holy shit. She actually did it. Your head is spinning. This has to be a prank. But the voice on the other end sounds far too official, far too… SM.

“Uh, yes! Yes, Thursday at 2 PM is… perfect,” you stammer, your mind racing a mile a minute. Junior PR liaison. For aespa. Working with Jimin. This is insane.

“Excellent. We’ll send a confirmation email with the details and address. Please bring a physical copy of your resume. We look forward to meeting you.”

“Thank you! I mean, yes, looking forward to it too!”

The line clicks dead. You stare at your phone, then at the annoyed customer, then back at your phone. Your first instinct is to call Jimin. You dial her number before you even consciously decide to, heart hammering against your ribs.

She picks up on the third ring. “Hey! What’s up?” Her voice is bright, cheerful.

“Jimin! You… you actually sent my resume to SM?” you blurt out, pacing behind the counter.

She laughs, that easy, musical sound. “Of course, I did. I told you I would, didn’t I? So, did they call you?” There’s a playful, knowing tone in her voice. She knew.

“They just called! I have an interview on Thursday! For a PR liaison role with Aespa! Jimin, this is… I don’t even know what to say. Thank you isn’t enough.”

“Hey, no need to thank me,” she says, her voice warm. “You’re qualified. You just needed a foot in the door. Now go ace that interview. I know you can.”

“But… SM? And working with your team? That’s… that’s insane.”

“Is it?” she teases. “Or is it fate? Again?” You can practically hear her smiling. “Just be yourself. They’ll love you. And hey,” her voice drops a little, becoming softer, more personal, “it would be pretty cool to see you around the office.”

“Yeah,” you manage, your voice a little breathless. “Yeah, it really would.”

—

Two days later, you’re standing in front of the imposing SM Entertainment building, dressed in your only decent suit, clutching your resume like they’re religious relics. The place is even more intimidating from the inside. Sleek, modern, buzzing with an undercurrent of focused energy. You see trainees rushing by, staff members with headsets, snippets of music drifting from behind closed doors. It’s a whole other world.

The interview itself is a blur. You meet with Ms. Kim from HR and a stern-faced senior manager from the Artist Relations department. They grill you on your PR experience (minimal, aside from college projects), your knowledge of the K-Pop industry (decent, from a fan perspective), and your ability to handle pressure (questionable, judging by the sweat currently soaking your palms). You try your best, channeling every ounce of professionalism you can muster, talking about your degree, your adaptability, your passion for creative communication. You highlight your international college experience, hoping it sounds impressive. You don’t mention Jimin, not directly, but you talk about your admiration for Aespa’s innovative concepts and global appeal.

When it’s over, you’re convinced you’ve blown it. You thank them, shake their hands, and walk out feeling a familiar wave of disappointment. Well, at least you got to see the inside of SM. That’s something, right?

You’re about to head for the exit, already composing a ‘thanks anyway’ text to Jimin, when you spot her. She’s further down the hallway, talking to someone who looks like a choreographer, dressed in stylish dance practice gear. Your heart does a nervous leap. You almost don’t approach her, but then she turns, her eyes meeting yours. A bright smile instantly lights up her face.

“Hey! How did it go?” she asks, excusing herself from the choreographer and walking towards you.

You can’t help but smile back, despite the lingering anxiety. “Hey. It was… an experience.”

She tilts her head, searching your face. “That doesn’t sound too enthusiastic.”

You sigh. “Honestly, Jimin, I think I tanked it. I was a nervous wreck. Pretty sure I forgot my own name at one point.”

Jimin just laughs, lightly punching your arm. “Oh, stop it. I’m sure you were great.” Then, her eyes sparkling with mischief, she asks, “So, did they offer you the job on the spot? Did they weep with joy at finding such a PR prodigy?”

“Hardly. They said they’d be in touch. Which is corporate speak for ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you, and by ‘we’ll call you,’ we mean never.’”

Just as you say it, your phone buzzes. You glance down. It’s Ms. Kim from SM. Your blood runs cold. Jimin peers at your screen, her eyes widening. “Well? Answer it!”

With trembling fingers, you swipe to answer. “Hello?”

“Hello,” Ms. Kim’s voice says. “We were very impressed with your interview. The team feels your background and enthusiasm would be a great asset. We’d like to offer you the Junior PR and Communications Liaison position for Aespa. Congratulations.”

You actually sway on your feet. Jimin grabs your arm, her eyes wide and questioning. You just stare at her, speechless, a slow, disbelieving grin spreading across your face. You manage to stammer out a “Thank you, I accept!” to Ms. Kim, who tells you HR will be in touch with the contract and start date details.

As soon as you hang up, Jimin is practically bouncing. “You got it?! You actually got the job?!”

You nod, still in shock, then burst out laughing. “I got the job! Holy shit, Jimin, I actually got the job!”

“I told you!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around you in a spontaneous, ecstatic hug. You hug her back, lifting her off the ground slightly, both of you laughing like idiots in the middle of an SM Entertainment hallway. When you finally set her down, you look at her, your heart full. “Thank you, Jimin. Seriously. This… this is because of you. I owe you big time.”

She waves her hand dismissively, but her smile is radiant. “You owed me for that time I covered for you when you broke Mrs. Lee’s prize-winning bonsai tree in fifth grade. Now we’re even.” She winks. “Besides, it’s going to be awesome having you here. Just try not to be too starstruck all the time, okay?”

“No promises,” you say, still grinning like a fool. Working at SM. With Jimin. This is actually happening.

—

Your first day is a whirlwind. You’re officially part of Aespa’s core PR team. The office is a hive of activity, a stark contrast to the quiet desperation of your job hunt. You meet your direct supervisor, a sharp, no-nonsense woman named Ms. Park, who walks you through your responsibilities: drafting social media posts, liaising with journalists (under strict supervision, of course), helping coordinate schedules for interviews and appearances, and generally being an all-hands-on-deck support for the group’s public image. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s exciting. You’re actually doing PR, not just theorizing about it in a classroom. And the best part? Your desk is in the same wing as Aespa’s dedicated team rooms. You can hear snippets of their music, see them occasionally passing in the hallways. It’s surreal.

During a much-needed lunch break, you’re trying to decipher the SM cafeteria menu when Jimin appears at your elbow, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Lost, newbie?” she teases.

“Completely,” you admit. “This place is a maze. And I think I accidentally ordered fermented skate for lunch.”

Jimin laughs, shaking her head. “Rookie mistake. Come on, I’ll show you the good stuff. And then there are some people I want you to meet.”

She leads you through the bustling cafeteria to a slightly quieter corner where three other girls are already seated, chatting animatedly. Your breath catches. Ningning. Giselle. Winter. The Aespa. In the flesh. Eating bibimbap.

Jimin grins, pulling you forward. “Girls, here he is. He’s the new PR liaison for our team. And also my super old, super dorky childhood friend.”

All three of them look up, their expressions ranging from curious to friendly.

Ningning, with bright, expressive eyes, offers a wide smile. “Oh, you’re the friend Jimin’s been talking about! Welcome to the chaos! I’m Ning Yizhuo.” Her energy is infectious.

Giselle, looking effortlessly chic even in casual clothes, gives you a cool, appraising nod. “Hey. Aeri Uchinaga. Or Giselle, whichever you prefer. Nice to finally meet you. Jimin’s been… enthusiastic about you joining.”

Winter, with her softer, almost ethereal beauty, offers a shy smile. “Hi. I’m Kim Minjeong. It’s nice to have you on the team.”

You manage to stammer out hellos, feeling completely out of your depth. You’re shaking hands with idols, people you’ve seen on giant screens and in glossy magazines. And they’re just… eating lunch. Talking. Laughing. It’s the most normal, yet utterly abnormal, situation you’ve ever been in.

The conversation is surprisingly easy. They ask you about yourself, where you’re from, how you know Jimin. You keep your answers vague about the ‘how you know Jimin’ part, sticking to the ‘childhood friends’ line. They talk about their upcoming schedule, a new music video concept, the usual idol banter. They’re all incredibly nice, welcoming, and you find yourself relaxing, actually enjoying their company. It’s still hard to reconcile these friendly, down-to-earth girls with the powerhouse performers they are on stage.

After lunch, as you’re heading back to your desk, Jimin falls into step beside you.

“So? What did you think?” she asks. “They’re pretty cool, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, still a little dazed. “They’re… amazing. And this whole thing is still kind of blowing my mind, to be honest. Working here, meeting them, seeing you…”

She bumps your shoulder playfully. “See? Told you it would be fun. It’s really good to have you here. Like, really good.” There’s an undercurrent to her words, a warmth that makes your chest feel tight.

“It’s good to be here, Jimin,” you reply. You look at her, and her presence so close to you makes you feel a mix of strange sensations; your childhood friend, now a global superstar, who somehow pulled strings to get you a job at one of the biggest entertainment companies in the world, just so you could be close. The thought is overwhelming, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once.

The dynamic between you is already shifting, the old, forgotten feelings bubbling closer to the surface now that you’re in her orbit again. And as you walk back to your new desk, you wonder if she is also feeling the same way as you.

—

It’s been a couple of weeks since you officially became Junior PR and Communications Liaison for Aespa, and that initial feeling (the one that hit you walking back to your desk after Jimin’s introduction to her members, that premonition of everything changing) hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s intensified.

You try to shove it down, to compartmentalize. You’re here to work, to prove Ms. Park, your sharp-as-a-tack supervisor, right for hiring you (even if Jimin’s recommendation was the battering ram that got your resume through the door). You spend your days buried in spreadsheets tracking social media engagement, drafting press release snippets that get dissected and reassembled ten times over, and fetching coffee more often than you’d care to admit. It’s grunt work, mostly, the bottom rung of the PR ladder, but it’s real. You’re in the game. And every so often, you catch a glimpse of the glittering prize: a quick, positive comment from Ms. Park on a draft, a nod of approval from the senior team members, the quiet satisfaction of a task completed efficiently.

Your attempts to maintain an air of cool professionalism around Jimin are… a work in progress. A fucking daily battle, if you’re being honest with yourself. She, on the other hand, seems to have no such internal conflict. Jimin is clearly, unequivocally, incandescently happy you’re there. It’s in the way her eyes light up when she spots you across the bustling open-plan office, the way she makes a beeline for your desk pretending to need a paperclip or ask about a non-existent email, her shoulder brushing yours a little too long as she leans in. It’s in the extra-bright "Morning!" that cuts through the general office murmur, often accompanied by a smuggled pastry from some high-end bakery she “just happened to pass.”

You try to reciprocate with a polite, colleague-appropriate smile and a "Morning, Jimin-ssi," emphasizing the honorific, a subtle reminder of the professional context. Sometimes. Other times, when she winks, or her smile is just for you, that old, familiar warmth floods your chest, and "Jimin-ah" slips out before you can catch it, a relic from a time before honorifics and idol personas mattered between you two. Her answering grin on those occasions is like a shot of pure sunshine, potent and dangerously addictive.

The other Aespa members are great. Ningning often swings by your desk to ask about some new Western slang she’s heard or to show you funny videos on her phone. She’s easy to talk to, her curiosity genuine, and you find yourself quickly falling into a comfortable banter with her. Giselle is cooler, more reserved initially, but possesses a dry wit that catches you off guard and makes you laugh out loud. She’s sharp, observant, and you get the feeling not much gets past her. Winter is quieter, often observing with a gentle smile, but when she does speak, it’s thoughtful and kind. You make a point of being equally friendly and professional with all of them, mindful of your role. You’re part of their team, here to support them, not to be a distraction or play favorites.

It's during one of these interactions with Ningning, about a week into your third week, that you notice it for the first time. You’re both hunched over your monitor, Ningning giggling as you try to explain the nuances of a particularly baffling English meme that’s gone viral. You’re leaning back in your chair, pointing at the screen, and she’s close, peering over your shoulder, her hair tickling your ear. It's an innocent, work-adjacent moment.

"Ah! So that's what it means!" Ningning exclaims, clapping her hands together. "Okay, okay, I get it now. You have a future as an official idol translator."

You chuckle. "Modesty aside, I am really well versed in the nuances of the English language, especially when it comes to memes."

"Apparently!”

The weeks bleed into a month, then two. You’re no longer the wide-eyed newbie fumbling with the coffee machine or getting lost on the way to the third-floor dance studios. You’ve found your rhythm in the relentless pulse of SM Entertainment. Your PR drafts for Aespa are getting fewer red marks from Ms. Park, you’ve memorized the building’s labyrinthine layout (mostly), and you actually feel like you’re contributing something more than just an extra body in meetings. You’ve even started to differentiate between the dozen slightly different shades of black that seem to constitute 90% of the staff’s wardrobe.

The other members of Aespa have become familiar, friendly faces. You’re careful, always. Professionalism is your mantra. You’re staff. They’re idols. But in those stolen moments, the casual chats in the quieter corners of the building, a genuine camaraderie is forming.

Jimin, though… Jimin is another story. She’s undeniably, overtly thrilled to have you around. Her smiles are brighter when directed at you, her laughter louder. She seeks you out for “work-related questions” that could have easily been answered by anyone else, her hand lingering a fraction too long on your arm when she makes a point. She brings you your favorite coffee "just because she was passing by the good place." While a part of you, the part that still remembers sweaty palms and a racing heart from your teenage years, basks in that focused attention, the professional, adult part of you is on high alert.

You’ve seen the glances. The whispers that die down when you approach a group of staff members. The subtle, almost imperceptible raising of eyebrows from some of the senior managers when Jimin’s interactions with you are a little too familiar, a little too warm for a global superstar and a junior PR guy. Idols, especially female idols at the top of their game, aren’t supposed to be this close, this visibly chummy, with male staff. It’s a dangerous line, and you’re terrified she’s either blissfully unaware of it or, worse, doesn't care. You try to dial back your own responses, keeping things friendly but more reserved, adding the honorific "Jimin-ssi" more consistently, hoping she’ll take the hint. Sometimes she does, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes before her professional mask slips on. Other times, she just bulldozes past it with that radiant grin, leaving you feeling like you’re walking a tightrope over a pit of vipers.

Her thing with the other members… that’s new. And it’s weird, kinda unsettling if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s never anything, like, obvious. She never says anything. But you see it.

Or you think you do.

It’s in the little things. Like when you’re cracking up with Ningning, sharing some stupid meme, and you catch a glimpse of Karina out of the corner of your eye. There’s a flicker of something in her expression, a barely-there tightening around her mouth before it smooths out into a small, polite smile. It’s so fast you question if you even saw it.

Or when Giselle gets all close, leaning into your space to show you a video on her phone, and Karina’s eyes just seem to… stick. They linger on you for a beat too long, her gaze heavy in a way you can’t quite decipher before she blinks and looks away, suddenly engrossed in her own phone.

Maybe you’re just making it up, projecting or something. But then she’ll walk over when you and Winter are in the middle of a conversation, laughing and vibing, and it’s like the temperature drops a few degrees. Her posture shifts, just a fraction, but she seems

One late afternoon, you find yourself in one of the smaller, less-used lounges on Aespa’s floor. It’s a comfortable space, rarely occupied, with a couple of plush sofas, a low table littered with old magazines, and a window overlooking a surprisingly green courtyard. You’d ducked in to escape the main office buzz for a few minutes, intending to just scroll through your phone and decompress. Ningning had found you first, plopping down beside you to complain good-naturedly about a particularly grueling choreography session. Soon after, Giselle and Winter had wandered in, drawn by Ningning’s animated voice, and the three of them were now comfortably arrayed on the sofas opposite you.

You’re in the middle of recounting a truly disastrous blind date your college roommate had dragged you on years ago (a story involving a mistaken identity, an escaped ferret, and a very public argument with a mime). You’re hamming it up, using voices, expansive gestures, and the girls are in stitches. Ningning is practically falling off the sofa, tears of laughter streaming down her face. Giselle, usually so composed, is clutching her stomach, her shoulders shaking. Even Winter keeps asking you for more details about the story, and for a moment, you forget the pressures of the job, the complexities of your situation with Jimin, everything. You’re just a guy, shooting the shit with friends.

"...so then the mime starts gesturing wildly, right? And my roommate, bless his clueless heart, thinks the ferret belongs to the mime and is trying to give it back!" you say, trying to catch your breath between laughs. "And the mime is getting more and more agitated because, apparently, he's deathly afraid of rodents..."

Ningning lets out another shriek of laughter. "No! Oh my god, a mime afraid of ferrets! That’s too much!"

Giselle wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. "Okay, that’s actually the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. Poor ferret, though. And poor mime!"

"The ferret was fine!" you assure them, grinning. "Made a clean getaway into a nearby bakery. The mime needed therapy, probably."

Winter shakes her head, still chuckling softly. "You always have the craziest stories."

"It's a gift," you say with a mock bow, eliciting another round of giggles. "Or a curse. Depends on whether you're the one living through it or just hearing about it."

It’s at this moment, surrounded by their genuine laughter, that the door to the lounge creaks open. You don’t even register it at first, too caught up in the shared mirth. But then a shadow falls across the room, and a new voice, cool and distinct, cuts through the air.

"Having fun?"

Your laughter catches in your throat. The shift in atmosphere is instantaneous, like a cold front rolling in. Ningning, Giselle, and Winter all visibly react; their smiles falter, their postures subtly stiffen. You turn, your heart giving a sudden, uncomfortable thump against your ribs.

Jimin is standing in the doorway, one hand resting on the doorframe. She’s dressed in sleek black leggings and an oversized hoodie, her practice gear, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Her expression is unreadable, a carefully blank mask, but her eyes… her eyes are fixed on you, sharp and intense. There’s no smile, no warmth, just that unwavering, assessing stare.

You scramble to your feet, a little too quickly. "Oh, hey, Jimin-ssi. We were just, uh..."

Ningning, recovering first, offers a slightly strained smile. "Jimin-unnie! We were just listening to his hilarious story."

"Yeah, unnie," Giselle adds, her voice a little less effusive than it was moments before. "He was telling us about his old roommate’s disastrous date."

Jimin’s gaze doesn’t leave yours. She takes a slow step into the room, her presence suddenly dominating the small space.

"A disastrous date?" Jimin repeats, her voice still devoid of any discernible emotion. Her eyes finally flick towards the other girls, then back to you. "Sounds captivating. You seem to have them quite entertained."

There’s an edge to her words, a subtle accusation. You can feel a prickle of sweat on your palms. This is exactly the kind of situation you’ve been dreading, her finding you in a moment of unguarded ease with her members, their laughter clearly for you, excluding her.

Winter shifts uncomfortably on the sofa, her earlier smile completely gone. Ningning is fiddling with the drawstrings of her hoodie, avoiding eye contact. Giselle maintains a neutral expression, but her eyes dart between you and Jimin. You feel like you're under a fucking microscope, and Jimin is the one holding the lens, her gaze burning into you, searching for… something.

"Well," you begin, clearing your throat, the sound unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet. You force a casualness you don't feel, gesturing vaguely towards the door. "I should probably, uh, get going. Got that report Ms. Park wanted… needs finishing." It’s a flimsy excuse; the report isn’t due until tomorrow afternoon, but escape is paramount.

You offer a quick, slightly strained smile to the other girls, who are still looking like they wish the floor would swallow them. "Was fun chatting, though. See you guys later."

Ningning manages a small, "Bye." Giselle gives a curt nod, her eyes still flickering towards Jimin. Winter offers a tiny, almost imperceptible wave.

As you turn to leave, Jimin’s voice stops you again. "I'll walk with you."

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. Your mind screams No, absolutely fucking not, bad idea, abort mission! but your mouth, like a traitor, says, "Oh. Uh, sure. Okay." Because what else can you say? Arguing would only make it worse, draw more attention, confirm whatever suspicions are brewing in her mind.

The walk from the lounge down the hallway towards the main office area feels like miles. The silence stretches between you, taut and uncomfortable. You can feel her presence beside you, a subtle tension in the air that wasn't there before. You risk a quick glance at her. Her expression is still set, jaw tight, eyes fixed straight ahead. You can practically hear the gears turning in her head. You brace yourself.

Finally, as you round a corner into a less populated corridor, she speaks, her voice low.

"You and the others seem to be getting along really well."

It’s a neutral observation on the surface, but you hear the undercurrent. You try to keep your own tone light, even. "Yeah, they’re great. Easy to talk to." You pause, then add, trying to steer the conversation onto safer ground, "Isn't that good? They're your members, your friends. I'm your friend, working with your team. It’s good that we all… you know, get along."

Jimin doesn’t look at you. Her gaze remains fixed on some indeterminate point down the hallway. "It depends."

"Depends on what?" you ask, afraid of what will come next.

"Depends if you start ditching me for them," she says. "Because lately, it feels like you’re avoiding me."

Your step falters for a split second. "Avoiding you? Jimin, that’s… that’s not true." The denial is automatic, but even as you say it, a flash of guilt hits you. You have been more reserved, more careful.

She finally turns her head, her eyes, dark and intense, meeting yours. There’s a flicker of hurt in them that makes your chest ache. "Isn't it? What about yesterday, in the cafeteria? I waved, you just nodded and hurried off with your tray. And Monday, when I asked if you wanted to grab a coffee after that marketing meeting, you said you were swamped. I saw you five minutes later scrolling through your phone at your desk." Her voice isn't accusatory now; it's quieter, tinged with a genuine bewilderment and that raw hurt. She remembers specific instances, and fuck, she’s not wrong. You were being short, deliberately creating distance.

Your throat feels tight. You glance quickly up and down the corridor. It’s relatively empty, just a couple of junior staffers disappearing around a distant corner. This isn't a conversation for public consumption. You stop, turning to face her more directly, lowering your own voice.

"Okay, look," you begin, trying to choose your words carefully. "Can we just… can we be real for a second?"

She watches you, waiting, her arms crossed over her chest now, a defensive posture.

"Jimin," you say, your voice earnest, "you know I’m happy to be here. And I’m happy you’re here, obviously. But you have to understand… this isn't like before. You’re Karina. You’re one of the biggest idols in the world. I’m… just a guy who works for the company. Your PR guy, technically."

Her brow furrows slightly, a hint of confusion. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with it," you insist. "Don’t you see how it looks? How we look? You being so… openly friendly with me, all the time? The little extra things, the way you seek me out? People notice that stuff, Jimin. Staff talk. Hell, fans would lose their minds if they saw half of it. This industry… it’s brutal. One wrong rumor, one misinterpreted photo, and it could be disastrous. For you, especially. For Aespa."

You run a hand through your hair, feeling the stress of it all. "I haven’t been avoiding you, Jimin. I’ve been trying to be careful. Trying to protect you. Trying to protect us from… from that. From the bullshit that could come from it. When I seem distant, or 'short' as you put it, it's not because I want to be. It's because I’m trying to keep a professional boundary in public, for both our sakes. I’m worried about your career, about you getting dragged into some stupid scandal because people misunderstand."

You let out a breath, the words tumbling out, a weight lifting slightly now that it’s said. You search her face, hoping she understands, hoping she doesn’t see it as a rejection.

Jimin stares at you, her expression slowly shifting as your words sink in. The defensiveness in her posture softens. The intensity in her eyes dims, then something akin to… embarrassment. Her gaze drops from yours to the floor, a faint blush creeping up her neck, painting the apples of her cheeks. She uncrosses her arms, fiddling with the sleeve of her hoodie.

When she finally looks up, her eyes are wide, a little watery, and full of a vulnerability that punches you right in the gut.

"Oh," she says. "Oh my god. You’re… you’re right." She winces, biting her lip. "I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking about it like that. At all." She shakes her head, looking genuinely mortified. "I'm so sorry. I’ve been… God, I’ve been acting like such an idiot. Paranoid." She lets out a shaky little laugh that has no humor in it. "I don’t even know why I’ve been like this. So… clingy or weird. It’s just…" She trails off, looking lost.

Seeing her like this, so exposed and contrite, melts away any lingering frustration you felt. All you want to do is reassure her.

"Hey," you say softly, taking a hesitant step closer. "It’s okay. Seriously. Don't beat yourself up about it." You offer a small, gentle smile. "It’s a weird situation for both of us, right? We’re figuring it out."

You pause, then add, you add, your tone surprisingly gentle, imbued with all the sincerity you feel, "And for what it’s worth, Jimin… you know how much I like having you around. How much I like you. Being near you, talking to you… it’s the best part of this whole crazy thing. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you. I haven’t forgotten that. Not for a second."

Her eyes, still glistening, meet yours. The blush on her cheeks deepens, but there’s a flicker of relief, of gratitude, in her gaze now. "Thank you," she murmurs. "For… for saying that. And for being honest. And for, you know, looking out for me even when I’m being a dumbass."

"Always," you say, and the word feels solid, true.

A comfortable silence settles between you for a moment. "So," you say, breaking the quiet gently, "how about this? To make up for my perceived avoidance, and your… non-dumbass-ness…" You grin, and she lets out a small, watery chuckle. "Later this week, or whenever you’re free from practice and schedules, we do something. Properly. Just you and me. No work, no office, no other members. Like old times, but… new times."

Her face lights up, a genuine, brilliant smile chasing away the last of her embarrassment. It’s the Jimin you remember, the one whose happiness is infectious. "Just us?"

"Just us," you confirm, your own heart feeling a little lighter, a hopeful anticipation bubbling up.

"I’d really like that," she says. "A lot." She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes sparkling again, this time not with suspicion, but with something that looks a lot like the excitement you’re suddenly feeling too.

—

The relief that flooded you after that honest, vulnerable conversation with Jimin in the hallway lingers for days. It’s like a heavy weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying has been lifted. There’s a new lightness in your interactions, a shared understanding that makes the stolen glances and brief smiles across the busy office feel less fraught with anxiety and more like thrilling little secrets.

True to her word, before you part ways that day, Jimin’s eyes sparkle with that familiar mischief.

"So, about that 'just us' time," she says, leaning against the wall, a playful smirk on her lips. "My place. Dinner. I’ll cook. Don’t look so surprised, I can actually make more than instant ramen."

You raise an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. "Oh really? Color me intrigued. Are we talking a five-star gourmet experience or something that might involve a fire extinguisher?"

She swats your arm playfully. "Hey! I’ll have you know my kimchi jjigae is legendary. Or, at least, edible. You in?"

The thought of it: Jimin, cooking for you, in her apartment, away from the relentless scrutiny of SM, it feels intimate, a significant step. "Absolutely in," you say. "When?"

She pulls out her phone, already scrolling through her calendar app, a frown of concentration on her face. "Hmm, schedule’s insane next week… What about… Friday? A week from today? I think I have that evening clear. For now, anyway."

"Friday it is," you confirm, a grin spreading across your face. "I’ll even bring dessert. To, you know, potentially counteract the legendary kimchi jjigae."

"You wound me! But deal." She winks, then with a quick, "Gotta run, practice!" she’s off, leaving you feeling a ridiculous sense of anticipation for a dinner that’s still a full week away.

The following days pass in a blur of work, punctuated by those small, shared moments with Jimin. A quick coffee break where you actually sit together for ten minutes, talking about nothing and everything. Her dropping by your desk with a new song recommendation, leaning in close so you can share an earbud, her hair brushing your cheek. The professional boundaries are still there, especially when others are around, but the fear and awkwardness have been replaced by a conspiratorial warmth. You’re both more careful, more aware, but the connection feels stronger, deeper.

Friday arrives, and you spend most of the day in a state of low-level excitement, replaying your outfit choices in your head, wondering what her apartment is like, what it will feel like to just be with her, without the roles of "idol" and "staff." You even bought an expensive cake from that fancy bakery she likes.

Then, around 3 PM, your work phone buzzes with a message from Jimin:

NOOOO! I’m SOOOO sorry! Next week's photoshoot was brought forward to today. I'll be tied up until late. They just told us. I was really looking forward to it. Stupid schedules. Can we reschedule? Please say yes!

Disappointment settles in your chest, but you push it down. This is idol life. This is what you signed up for, being in her orbit.

You text: Of course. No worries at all, totally understand. We’ll find another night. Good luck with the shoot! You’ll kill it.

You’re the best. Raincheck for sure!!! Next week? I’ll make it up to you!

But "next week" turns into a series of near misses. An unexpected variety show filming crops up for her. A last-minute fan sign event gets added. You have a late night at the office handling a minor PR flare-up for another group. The universe, it seems, is conspiring against your private dinner. The expensive cake sits in your fridge, a sad, delicious monument to your thwarted plans.

And as the days turn into another week, something else starts to creep into your awareness, a subtle, unwelcome shift in your own internal landscape. You’re part of aespa’s PR team, which means you’re privy to schedules, collaborations, and the general buzz around them. You see Jimin interacting with other people in the company, naturally. She’s the leader, charismatic and friendly. It’s her job, her personality.

But it’s her interactions with some of the male idols that start to… prickle.

It begins subtly. You’re in a meeting discussing upcoming cross-promotional content, and one of the senior members from a popular SM boy group, a guy known for his sharp looks and easy charm, casually mentions how he and Jimin were just laughing about a shared embarrassing trainee story the other day in the practice rooms. A tiny, almost imperceptible muscle tightens in your jaw. They just happened to be in the practice rooms? Laughing? You tell yourself it’s nothing. Colleagues. Friends.

Then, a few days later, you’re walking past one of the recording studios and you see Jimin through the soundproof glass, headphones on, talking animatedly with a well-known producer, also male, also handsome. He leans in close to adjust something on the mixing board, his hand brushing hers. She throws her head back and laughs at something he says, a bright, unrestrained sound. The knot in your stomach tightens a little more. You find yourself lingering a second too long, watching them, a sour taste creeping into your mouth. You force yourself to walk away, chiding yourself internally. She’s working. He’s a producer. This is normal. Get a grip.

The worst is when you’re scrolling through internal staff memos or even semi-public social media feeds from other idols. A candid behind-the-scenes shot from a music show, and there’s Jimin in the background, deep in conversation with a member of a rival boy group, both of them smiling. A congratulatory post from another male idol for am Aespa’s latest achievement, with a throwback photo of him and Jimin making silly faces from some past event. Each instance is like a small papercut, insignificant on its own, but collectively, they start to bleed.

You start to question yourself, this ugly feeling coiling in your gut. Am I actually… jealous? The thought is mortifying. You have no right. You’re her friend, her colleague. You buried that teenage crush years ago, didn’t you? This is different. This is… possessiveness. It’s irrational, and you hate it. You tell yourself it’s just protectiveness, the same kind you talked to her about, you’re worried about her image. But who are you kidding? That’s bullshit. This isn’t about her image. This is about that tight, angry clench in your chest when you see another guy make her laugh that specific way, the way her eyes crinkle at the corners. The way she only laughs with you. Or so you thought.

You try to subdue it, to crush the feeling down with logic. She’s an idol. Her circle is full of other idols, producers, industry people. Male, female, it doesn’t matter. She’s allowed to have friends. You are being a fucking psycho. You try to focus on your work, burying yourself in spreadsheets and press drafts, but your gaze keeps drifting, your ears straining for any mention of her name, your mind replaying those brief, observed moments, dissecting them, looking for… you don’t even know what. Reassurance? Confirmation of your fears?

This slow burn of jealousy is exhausting. It simmers beneath the surface of your carefully constructed professionalism, a toxic undercurrent poisoning your thoughts. You haven’t said anything to Jimin. You haven’t changed your outward behavior towards her, not in any way she’d notice, you hope. You’re still friendly, still supportive, still the guy she relies on. But inside, you’re a mess, increasingly tangled in a knot of feelings you don’t want and can’t seem to shake, this unwelcome, undeniable jealousy taking root, growing stronger with each passing day, with each shared smile she gives to someone who isn’t you.

—

Most of the nine-to-fivers have already made their escape, and even the usual thrum of idol activity has quieted to a muted pulse. You’re tucked away in a small, blessedly empty meeting room on one of the upper floors, nursing a lukewarm cup of instant coffee. You’re supposed to be reviewing social media analytics (riveting stuff, truly) but mostly you’re just staring out the window at the sprawling grey expanse of Seoul, lost in the delightful internal monologue of your own burgeoning, and entirely irrational, jealousy. It’s becoming quite the hobby, this mental self-flagellation.

The click of the door opening barely registers until a familiar, melodic voice cuts through your brooding.

"Hiding out?"

You nearly jump out of your skin, sloshing coffee onto a stack of decidedly unimportant papers. Turning, you see Jimin leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile playing on her lips. And just like that, the carefully constructed wall of your professional cynicism crumbles into pathetic, lovestruck dust.

She’s not in practice gear today. She’s wearing a simple, cream-colored knit sweater that looks ridiculously soft and some dark, well-fitted jeans. Her hair is down, cascading over her shoulders in those perfect, effortless waves that probably take a team of stylists two hours to achieve. Her makeup is minimal, making her look younger, softer, more like the Jimin you knew before she became Karina, global phenomenon and recurring star of your anxiety dreams.

"Hey," you manage, trying for nonchalant and probably landing somewhere near 'startled chipmunk.' "Didn't hear you come in."

She pushes off the doorframe and ambles further into the room, her presence instantly making the generic corporate space feel… smaller, somehow. More charged. "Sorry to interrupt your very important… paper-staring session."

"It's a critical part of my process," you say, attempting a dry wit that she, thankfully, seems to appreciate with a small laugh. "Deep contemplation of spreadsheet ergonomics."

"Right." She perches on the edge of the ridiculously oversized conference table, her legs crossed casually. "Look, I just wanted to say sorry if I’ve been a bit MIA the last few days. Schedules have been… well, you know. Insane."

"Ah, the glamorous life," you quip, though the relief at her explanation is a palpable thing easing the tension in your shoulders. So, it wasn’t you. Or, not just you. Probably. "No worries. Figured you were off conquering another continent or something equally mundane."

She smiles, a genuine, tired-around-the-edges smile. "Something like that. Endless meetings about tour logistics, new endorsement shoots, trying to learn choreography when every muscle in your body screams for rest." She sighs, then her gaze softens as it meets yours. "It’s just… been a lot. Haven't had much chance to just… breathe. Or talk."

"I get it," you say, and you do. The pace here is relentless. "You look…" You pause, searching for the right word, because 'good' feels like an insult to whatever cosmic alignment is happening with her features right now. "You look beautiful today, Jimin." The words are out before you can second-guess them, honest and a little too raw. You quickly try to backtrack, to lessen the impact, lest you sound like a complete lovesick fool (which, of course, you are). "I mean, you always look beautiful, obviously. It’s kind of your brand. But today… there’s something. Extra. You’re glowing. Or maybe it’s just the cheap office lighting playing tricks on my caffeine-addled eyes."

A delicate blush, the color of a summer peach, rises on her cheeks. She ducks her head for a moment, a shy gesture that feels impossibly endearing. "Thank you," she says softly, looking up at you through her lashes. The directness of her gaze, coupled with that blush. "That’s… really nice to hear. Especially today."

You should probably say something about those analytics. Or the weather. Anything but stare at her like she’s the only source of oxygen in the room.

Then, her expression shifts. A wistful, almost faraway look enters her eyes. "Hey," she says, her tone quieter now, thoughtful. "Do you remember… do you remember that time, we must have been, what, thirteen? When we biked all the way out to old Haeundae beach, even though our parents would have skinned us alive if they knew?"

The question catches you off guard. The sudden shift to such a specific, distant memory throws you. But of course, you remember. How could you forget? Your mind immediately conjures the scene: the reckless thrill of that forbidden adventure, the salty spray on your faces, the cheap, borrowed bikes threatening to fall apart beneath you.

"Yeah," you say, a slow smile spreading across your face as the details flood back. "With those ridiculously ancient bikes we 'borrowed' from your uncle’s shed? The ones where the brakes only worked if you prayed really, really hard?"

Her answering smile is luminous. "Exactly! And then that insane storm blew in out of nowhere. One minute it was sunny, the next it was like the sky just… cracked open."

"Torrential," you agree, a chuckle escaping you. "We were soaked to the bone in about ten seconds. I thought my sneakers would never dry out."

"And we found that tiny, busted-up old bus stop shelter way up on the coastal road," she continues, her eyes sparkling with the recollection, lost in the memory with you. "It was leaking, there were probably spiders the size of my fist in there, but it felt like a palace."

"We were freezing," you remember, "shivering like crazy. And all we had to eat was that one squashed packet of stale crackers I’d forgotten in my backpack."

Jimin laughs. "And we split it, didn’t we? Crouched in that damp, smelly shelter, rain hammering down outside, sharing those awful crackers like it was a feast." She looks at you then. "We talked for hours, waiting for it to stop. About everything. Stupid stuff, serious stuff."

"Our grand plans to escape our boring town," you supply, the memory so vivid now it feels like you could reach out and touch it. "Your dreams of being famous, my dreams of… well, probably something equally ridiculous I’ve thankfully forgotten."

"It wasn't ridiculous," she says softly, her gaze holding yours. "It was just… us. Just talking. It felt like we were the only two people in the world for a few hours."

You know what she means. It was more than just getting caught in the rain. It was a moment of unvarnished connection, of shared vulnerability, of feeling utterly, completely understood by another person, a feeling so rare and precious, especially at that tumultuous age. You remember the damp chill, yes, but more clearly, you remember the warmth of her shoulder pressed against yours as you huddled together, the easy rhythm of your conversation, the feeling that, for a little while, all the complexities of the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you and the roaring storm.

"I still think about that day sometimes," Jimin says, her eyes still locked on yours, searching, questioning. "A lot, actually."

Your carefully constructed composure, already teetering, threatens to shatter. All the air seems to have been sucked out of the small room. The irony isn't lost on you; here you are, a grown man, unraveled by a shared memory of stale crackers and a rainstorm from over a decade ago. Pathetic, really.

"Why?" The question slips out, hushed, almost involuntary. Your mind is racing. Why now? Why bring this up? What does it mean?

Jimin holds your gaze for another long moment, and you can see a universe of unspoken emotions swirling in the depths of her dark eyes. Then, she looks away, her gaze drifting towards the window, towards the distant, indifferent city. A tiny, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips.

"Actually, I don't know," she says, so quietly you almost miss it. "I really don't know."

It's an answer that's not an answer, a perfectly crafted piece of ambiguity designed, it seems, to send your already overthinking brain into a full-blown spiral. You watch her, this enigma you’ve known your whole life, and feel a familiar, frustrating helplessness. All those years, all that shared history, and she can still reduce you to a state of dumbfounded confusion with three little words.

She pushes herself off the conference table, the movement fluid and graceful. "Well," she says, her voice regaining a sliver of its usual brightness, though her eyes still hold that distant, thoughtful quality. "Maybe it’s better if I go. Don’t want to keep bothering you with… ancient history. And I actually do have that choreography meeting. Can't keep the dance monster waiting."

She turns and walks towards the door, each step feeling like a countdown timer on your chance to say something, anything, to pierce through this sudden, unbearable tension.

She reaches the door, her hand on the knob. It’s now or never, brainiac.

"Jimin," you call out.

She pauses, her back still to you, hand frozen on the doorknob. This is it. Your moment to say something profound, something that clarifies everything, something that bridges the gap of years and fame and unspoken feelings. Your mind races, a frantic slideshow of possibilities. 'What did you mean?' 'Do you feel it too?' 'That day meant something to me too, you know.'

And then, like a cold splash of reality, the internal killjoy (the one that pays the bills and reminds you of your precarious position) pipes up: She’s an idol, you idiot. Global superstar. You’re staff. This is how you lose your job and become a cautionary tale. Don’t be a walking, talking HR violation.

The grand, sweeping declaration dies on your lips, replaced by a pathetic little puff of air. When she finally turns her head slightly, looking back at you with a questioning gaze, all that comes out is a lame, "It's… uh… nothing. Never mind.”

A small, enigmatic smile plays on her lips. It’s impossible to tell if it’s knowing, amused, or just polite. With Jimin, it could be all three. "Okay," she says softly. "See you around."

And then she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her with a gentle finality, leaving you alone once more with your lukewarm coffee, your useless analytics, and the fresh, agonizing weight of all the things you didn't say.

Hours later, the office has thinned out almost completely. You’re packing up your bag, ready to call it a day and go home to stare meaningfully at your ceiling, when Ningning bounces over to your desk.

"Heading out?" she asks, perching on the corner of your desk like an overgrown, incredibly cheerful pixie.

"Yep. Day is done. My brain feels like overcooked jjigae."

She giggles. "Mine too! We had vocal training for three hours straight. My throat is screaming." She leans in a little. "So, work stuff aside… how are things?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Things? Vague. But… okay, I guess? Survived another day in the K-Pop trenches. You?"

"Good, good!" she says, then her eyes get that tell-tale sparkle of curiosity you’re beginning to recognize all too well. "Actually… I was wondering. About, you know…" She gestures vaguely between herself and an imaginary Jimin. "You two."

Ah. Here we go. The subtle interrogation phase. You try to keep your expression neutral, a Herculean effort. "Us two? Do you mean Jimin? We’re… old friends. Colleagues. As previously established in multiple official and unofficial briefings."

Ningning tilts her head, her smile a little too knowing. "Riiight. Old friends. But, like… how old? What’s the real story there? Unnie can be… a little selective with details sometimes."

Before you can even begin to formulate a suitably evasive yet charmingly informative answer, footsteps approach. Giselle and Winter appear, looking equally ready to bolt for the day.

"What are you two whispering about over here?" Giselle asks. Winter offers a quiet smile from beside her.

Ningning beams at them. "Perfect timing! I was just asking about him," she points a thumb at you, "and our dear leader. The true story."

Giselle’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow arches. "Oh? The origin story? Spill it. We’ve only heard Jimin-unnie’s version, which, let's be honest, is probably heavily romanticized."

Winter chuckles softly. "She did mention something about a very dramatic rainstorm once."

Now all three of them are looking at you, expectant and clearly ready for some prime gossip, or at least, your side of the folklore. You’re surrounded. There’s no escape.

"Okay, okay," you say, raising your hands in mock surrender, trying to buy yourself some thinking time. "There’s nothing really interesting in our story. Mostly just a lot of questionable teenage fashion choices and an unhealthy obsession with the same five boy bands."

"Details, details!" Ningning urges, leaning forward. "What were you like in school? Was she always… Karina-like? Or was she a secret dork?"

"Definitely a secret dork," you say, a genuine smile touching your lips as you think back.

This gets a laugh from all of them.

"And you?" Giselle prompts. "What was your role in this dynamic duo?"

"Chief instigator of dumb ideas, probably," you admit. "And expert in procuring illicit snacks for movie marathons. We spent a ridiculous amount of time watching terrible action movies and critiquing them like we were seasoned film critics." You share a few more harmless anecdotes: the time you both tried to bake a cake that ended up looking like a volcanic eruption, the disastrous school play where you both forgot your lines, the endless summers spent biking around the city, dreaming of bigger things. It’s easy to talk about the past, the safe, sepia-toned memories. It makes the present, with all its unspoken tensions and Jimin’s idol status, feel momentarily distant.

As you’re talking, weaving these tales of your shared youth, you see your opening. It’s a long shot, and your attempt at casualness will probably be about as convincing as a politician's promise, but you have to try.

"Speaking of Jimin," you say, aiming for a nonchalant tone that you’re pretty sure misses the mark by a country mile, "she’s, you know, so busy and in the public eye all the time. Must be tough to… have a personal life. Is she… seeing anyone? Or, you know, hanging out with anyone in particular? Just curious, as a friend. Worried about her, you know. Safety, happiness, all that good stuff."

You try to make it sound like a casual afterthought, a fleeting concern from a dear old platonic pal. You think you almost pulled it off, right up until you see the looks on their faces.

Ningning’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and she exchanges a lightning-fast glance with Giselle. Giselle’s lips twitch, a smirk threatening to break free. Winter just smiles like she knows what's going on in your head. Oh, you are so transparent. They see right through your flimsy "concerned friend" charade.

"Hmm, 'seeing anyone'?" Giselle repeats slowly, drawing out the words. "Nope. Can't say that she is. Unnie's pretty much married to her work these days. And us, of course."

"Yeah," Ningning chimes in, a little too brightly. "No mysterious romantic entanglements that we know of! Our leader is a free agent!"

"Why do you ask?" Winter asks her gaze lifting to meet yours.

"Oh, you know," you say, waving a dismissive hand, trying to project an air of breezy indifference. "Just… she’s an old friend. You worry about your friends, right? Want them to be happy, not get mixed up with… undesirables. Standard friend protocol."

The three of them share another look. This one is longer, more laden with unspoken understanding. It’s the kind of look that says, “Oh, honey, you are so delightfully screwed.”

"Right," Giselle says. "Undesirables. Of course."

Ningning nods vigorously. "Totally. Friend protocol. We get it."

"So," Giselle starts, "all these shared memories, the dorky school days… was there ever, you know, anything more? Between you two back then?"

You can feel the heat rising up your neck. Your brain is frantically sifting through a thousand possible deflections, each one more unconvincing than the last. This is where your PR training truly shines, in the art of saying absolutely nothing while appearing to consider something deeply. A true masterclass in verbal evasion is about to unfold, you can just feel it.

"I mean, the bond between you two is… remarkable," Ningning adds, helpfully twisting the knife. "Unnie was so, so excited when she found out you were coming to work here. Like, beyond normal 'old friend joining the company' excited. More like 'rare Pokémon spotted in the wild' excited."

Giselle snorts delicately. "Eloquent, Ningning. But she’s right. There’s definitely… a vibe."

Just as you’re about to launch into what would undoubtedly be a completely disastrous attempt at a nonchalant denial, a voice cuts through the charged atmosphere.

"There you guys are! I’ve been looking all over for you."

Jimin. Of course. Her timing is, as always, impeccably dramatic. She steps into the lounge, her gaze sweeping over her members, then landing on you, a slight question in her eyes. She’s still in her practice clothes, a light sheen of perspiration on her forehead, making her look both ethereal and remarkably real. The girls, bless their meddling, gossipy hearts, snap into action with the practiced ease of seasoned operatives.

"Oh, hey, Unnie!" Ningning chirps. "We were just… talking."

"About what?" Jimin asks, stepping further into the room, her gaze lingering on you for a fraction of a second longer than strictly necessary. Or maybe you’re just imagining that part. Your imagination has been working overtime lately, particularly where she’s concerned.

"Nothing major," Giselle says smoothly, waving a dismissive hand. "Silly things. Random office gossip. You know how it is." She stands, stretching languidly. "Actually, we should probably head out. It’s getting seriously late.”

"Yeah, same," Ningning agrees, bouncing to her feet. Winter nods, already halfway to the door. "My everything aches."

You seize the opportunity, a drowning man grasping at a life raft made of convenient excuses. "Me too, actually. Long day. Lots of… spreadsheets." You try for a weary, put-upon sigh. You’re not sure it lands.

The girls offer quick goodbyes, a chorus of "See ya!" and "Night, Unnie!" and then they’re gone, leaving you and Jimin standing in the sudden quiet of the empty lounge. She turns to you. "They keeping you entertained?"

"They’re… a force of nature," you admit. "Never a dull moment."

"Tell me about it," she says with a sigh that seems to carry the weight of a thousand schedules. "Well, I guess I should let you escape too." She gestures towards the door. "I’m heading out as well. Want to walk?"

And just like that, you’re accompanying her again, the two of you falling into step as you navigate the increasingly deserted corridors of SM Entertainment. You find yourself acutely aware of the space between you, of the subtle scent of her perfume, of the way her hair catches the low evening light filtering through the hallway windows. It’s all terribly poetic and deeply unhelpful for your already addled state of mind.

As you approach the main lobby, her voice, soft and a little melancholic, breaks the quiet. "Have you ever wondered," she begins, not looking at you, her gaze fixed on the gleaming marble floor, "what might have happened? If… if things had been different? If I hadn’t gone into training when I did, if you hadn’t gone off to study in another country? If we hadn't… you know, gone our separate ways back then?"

The question, so similar to the one that started your recent emotional tailspin with her, catches you off guard. It’s a "what if" laden with years of distance and change, a path untaken, a story unwritten. You glance at her profile, the perfect line of her jaw, the slight furrow in her brow. She looks so much like the fierce, determined girl you knew, yet also like someone entirely new, someone shaped by experiences you can only guess at.

"I don't know," you say honestly, the words feeling inadequate but true. It’s your go-to answer for her profound, soul-searching question, apparently. "It’s… hard to predict those kinds of things, isn’t it? One tiny change back then could have led to a million different todays." You try for a philosophical shrug, as if you ponder alternate timelines on a regular basis. You mostly ponder what to have for dinner.

She nods slowly, still not meeting your eyes. "You’re right. It’s impossible to know." A beat of silence, then she adds, almost to herself, "Still. Sometimes I wonder."

Before you can overthink it, before your internal HR department can issue a cease-and-desist, you find yourself saying, "But, Jimin… whatever those other million todays might have looked like, this one? This is the one where we’re both here. You, me, in this crazy building, against some pretty insane odds when you think about it." You meet her gaze then, hoping she sees the sincerity in yours. "That’s got to be worth something, right?"

A slow smile spreads across her face, a genuine, heart-stoppingly beautiful smile that reaches her eyes and chases away some of the weariness you saw there earlier. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I think it is." She finally looks directly at you, and there's a warmth there, a shared acknowledgement of the strange, unlikely thread that still connects you.

"Thank you for saying that."

"Just stating the facts," you reply, though your heart is doing a fair impression of a hummingbird’s wings. You pause, then, emboldened by the moment, you ask, "Are you okay, though? You seem… a little tired." A masterful understatement, considering the grueling life she leads.

She lets out a soft sigh. "Yeah, I’m okay. Just… tired is my default setting these days, I think." She manages a wry smile. "This week has been particularly brutal. But it’s okay. It’s part of it."

"I’ve been seeing it up close, you know," you say, your tone earnest. "You, the girls… the amount of work you all put in, the sheer dedication… it’s actually insane. I had no idea, not really, before I started working here. It’s… genuinely incredible. You’re all amazing." You hesitate, then add, "Just… don’t overdo it, okay? Take care of yourself. Seriously."

Her smile widens, softens. The appreciation in her eyes is unmistakable, and it makes you feel ridiculously warm inside. "Thank you," she says again. "That means a lot. I will. I promise."

You reach the main exit, the cool night air of Seoul beckoning from beyond the glass doors. This feels like another one of those moments, a pause before the story shifts again.

"Well," you say, "my chariot awaits. Or, you know, the subway."

She laughs, a light, easy sound. "Same here. My manager’s probably already sent out a search party." She turns to you, and for a moment, it feels like there’s something more she wants to say, something hovering on the edge of her words. But then she just smiles that enigmatic smile again. "Good night. And… thanks. For the walk. And the concern."

"Anytime," you reply. "Goodnight, Jimin."

And with that, she’s gone, disappearing into the waiting black van that always seems to materialize out of nowhere. You watch her go, a strange mix of hope and confusion and that ever-present, damnably persistent affection swirling inside you.

—

The weekend arrives with all the fanfare of a damp squib. You spend Saturday mostly alternating between staring blankly at your laptop screen, pretending to job-hunt for something that isn’t your current, emotionally hazardous employment, and replaying every single micro-expression Jimin has made in your vicinity for the past two weeks. It’s a productive, well-adjusted way to live, you tell yourself with a hefty dose of irony. You’re bored, tired of your own internal monologue, and a little bit adrift.

You’re cleaning your room, contemplating mentally the profound existential question of whether to order jjajangmyeon or just eat cereal for dinner for the third night in a row, when your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You almost ignore it, expecting another spam text about a crypto scam or a discount on air fryers. But then it buzzes again, insistent. With a groan, you reach for it.

It’s a message. From Jimin.

Hey! Are you by any chance, miraculously, incredibly, unbelievably… free tonight? My schedule just cleared up like magic (don’t ask, it’s a K-Pop miracle). That dinner we talked about… still interested? My legendary kimchi jjigae awaits its challenger! Let me know! Fingers crossed! ✨🍜🤞

You stare at the message, reading it once, twice, a third time just to make sure your sleep-deprived brain isn’t hallucinating. Her schedule cleared? She’s asking tonight? After all the cancellations, all the near-misses? A slow grin, a genuine, uncomplicated, shit-eating grin, spreads across your face. All the weariness, the boredom, the overthinking from the past few days, evaporates like morning mist.

You type back, your thumbs flying across the screen, a surge of adrenaline making your hands shake slightly.

Tonight? Miracles do happen! Yes, absolutely, 100% still interested. My taste buds are primed and ready for legendary status. Send me the address. I’ll even brave rush hour for this.

Her reply is almost instantaneous. A string of happy emojis, followed by her address and a time.

It’s set. It’s actually, finally, set.

A laugh bubbles up from your chest, loud and unrestrained in the quiet of your small apartment. Suddenly, your weekend isn’t looking so bleak. Suddenly, you’re not tired at all. Suddenly, the only thing that matters is that in a few short hours, you’re going to Jimin’s apartment for dinner. Just the two of you.

—

The hours leading up to your dinner with Jimin are a masterclass in controlled chaos, existing primarily within the confines of your own skull. You tell yourself, with the stern authority of someone trying to wrangle a particularly unruly toddler, not to overthink it. It’s just dinner. A casual meal between old friends. One of whom just happens to be a globally recognized K-Pop sensation who occupies a significant, and frankly unhealthy, amount of your daily thought processes.

Yes, perfectly normal.

Your attempt not to overthink manifests as a meticulous, hour-long deconstruction of your entire wardrobe, a frantic search for an outfit that screams "effortlessly cool and put-together" while simultaneously whispering "I definitely didn't try too hard, but please notice I tried a little." You settle on dark jeans that actually fit well and a soft, unassuming button-down shirt (casual, yet hinting at the possibility that you own an iron).

On your way to her neighborhood, a sudden pang of "don't show up empty-handed, you heathen" strikes you. You duck into a small, upscale market, ostensibly for a bottle of wine or some trendy artisanal sparkling water. As you’re Browse, your eyes snag on a particular brand of imported Swiss chocolate, a rich, dark hazelnut bar. It’s a lightning bolt from the past. Jimin used to be absolutely obsessed with this exact chocolate back in your school days. She’d save up her allowance for it, savoring each square like it was a precious jewel. It’s a ridiculous, sentimental impulse, but you grab it, along with a respectable bottle of white wine that looks like it knows what it’s doing. The chocolate feels like a small, secret handshake with the past, a nod to the girl she was… a girl you knew before the world did.

Her apartment building is sleek and modern, nestled in a quiet, affluent part of Seoul. You buzz her apartment number, your voice sounding surprisingly steady through the intercom when you announce your arrival. A moment later, the lock clicks, and you’re granted access to the inner sanctum. So far, so good. No alarms triggered.

Standing outside her actual apartment door, a fresh wave of nerves – oh, hello again, old friend – washes over you. You perform the sacred pre-door-knock ritual: a quick, surreptitious sniff of your own breath (minty, check), a frantic adjustment of your shirt cuffs, and a final, desperate smooth-down of your hair. You take a deep breath, then you knock.

The door swings open, and there she is. And just like that, your carefully constructed composure evaporates. Jimin. Even in simple, dark lounge pants and a ridiculously soft-looking, oversized grey sweater that swallows her frame, she looks… breathtaking. Her hair is tied up in a loose, messy bun, tendrils escaping to frame her face. Her makeup is so light it’s almost non-existent, just a hint of color on her lips and a subtle definition to her incredible eyes, making her appear more close to you, more vulnerable, more… Jimin. The effect is devastatingly beautiful, far more so than any stage costume or red-carpet glamour. This is her, unvarnished, in her own space.

You just sort of… stare for a beat, your brain temporarily short-circuiting. She offers a small, slightly shy smile. "Hey. You made it."

"Yeah," you manage. "Traffic was… surprisingly cooperative. For once." You then remember the social contract requires more than just grunting acknowledgment. "You, uh… you look amazing, Jimin. Really." There, you said it. Not as smooth as you’d hoped, but honest.

Her smile widens, a genuine, pleased crinkle around her eyes. "Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself." She steps back, holding the door open wider. "Come on in. Don’t mind the mess, I was literally in the middle of a creative explosion in the kitchen."

You step inside, and as you do, you present your offerings. "Brought some wine," you say, handing her the bottle. "And, uh, this." You pull out the chocolate bar. "Not sure if you still… but I remembered."

Her eyes widen when she sees the familiar wrapper, a gasp of pure, unadulterated delight escaping her. "Oh my god!" she exclaims, taking the chocolate from you with an almost reverent care. "This! I haven’t had this in ages! How did you even remember?" Her face is alight with genuine happiness. "This is… this is the best. Thank you." That she’s happier about the relatively cheap chocolate bar than the expensive wine says everything. It’s a direct hit to the heart, that shared memory made tangible.

"My memory retains crucial information," you say, trying for a light, teasing tone to cover the sudden thickness in your throat.

She laughs, clutching the chocolate bar like a long-lost treasure. "Apparently so." She gestures around. "Well, this is it. Karina's home. Or, you know, Jimin’s slightly-less-glamorous-than-you’d-expect-for-an-idol-but-still-pretty-nice apartment."

You take a proper look around as she leads you further in. It is beautiful. Definitely what you’d expect for someone of her status – spacious, with high ceilings, large windows offering a glittering panorama of the Seoul skyline. The furniture is modern and stylish, a palette of soft neutrals and rich textures. But threaded throughout the obvious expense are unmistakable touches of her. A shelf overflowing with books, a worn acoustic guitar propped in a corner, a collection of quirky art prints that are more charming than high-concept, a ridiculously fluffy throw blanket draped over a plush sofa that just begs for someone to curl up on it. It’s a home, not just a showpiece. It’s… Jimin. And you’re in it.

The aroma filling Jimin’s apartment is genuinely incredible, a rich, spicy, and deeply comforting scent that immediately makes your stomach rumble in anticipation. She’s bustling between the small, open-plan kitchen counter and the dining table as she places steaming bowls and an array of colourful banchan (pickled radish, seasoned spinach, glistening myeolchi bokkeum) onto the table. You try to offer help, a classic "can I do anything?" gesture, but she waves you off with a smile, directing you to simply take a seat.

"Guest of honor tonight," she declares, "your only job is to eat and, hopefully, not require medical attention afterwards." It's a joke, but there's a hint of nervous pride in her eyes as she surveys her culinary efforts. It's endearing, this glimpse of her outside the polished perfection of Karina, the idol. This is Jimin, hoping you like her cooking.

You settle into a chair at the intimate wooden table, which is perfectly sized for two and positioned to offer a breathtaking view of the city lights beginning to ignite the deepening twilight outside. She slides a bowl of rice in front of you, then the centerpiece: a bubbling, vibrant red earthenware pot of kimchi jjigae, the steam carrying its potent, delicious fragrance. She serves herself, then gestures for you to dig in. "Well," she says, a little breathlessly, "moment of truth."

You pick up your chopsticks, you take a careful spoonful of the jjigae, the rich broth warming your tongue, the tender pork and tangy kimchi a perfect balance. It’s not just edible; it’s genuinely, profoundly good. Your eyes widen in honest surprise.

"Jimin," you say, after a moment of appreciative silence, letting the warmth spread through you. "This is… seriously incredible. You weren't kidding about the legendary status. This is restaurant-quality stuff." You’re not just being polite; it’s the best kimchi jjigae you’ve had in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

A pleased, slightly flustered blush colors her cheeks. She ducks her head, stirring her own bowl a little too intently. "Oh, stop," she says, but her smile is radiant. "It’s just an old family recipe. My grandmother taught me. I don’t get to make it that often, so… I’m glad it turned out okay." She takes a tentative bite herself, then nods, a little surprised. "Huh. Not bad, if I do say so myself."

You both eat in a comfortable, almost reverent silence for a few minutes. You try some of the banchan she gestures towards, a crisp, spicy cucumber salad, some savory pan-fried tofu. Everything is meticulously prepared, bursting with flavor. It's clear she put a lot of effort into this, and that knowledge warms you even more than the jjigae.

It's as you’re both reaching for the water glasses at the same time, your fingers brushing for a fleeting, electric instant, that the full weight of the situation seems to properly land. You pull your hand back a little too quickly, a jolt going up your arm. You look up, and she’s looking at you, her eyes wide, a similar awareness dawning in them. Here you are. Alone. In her apartment, a space few outside her closest circle probably ever see. Sharing a home-cooked meal. It’s not uncomfortable, not exactly, but it’s undeniably there: a potent mix of history and the sheer, unadulterated weirdness of your lives having converged like this again.

A small, nervous chuckle escapes her lips, a delicate, airy sound. Almost instantly, a similar laugh bubbles up from your own chest; a little shaky, a little breathless, but a genuine release of the mounting tension. It’s a shared acknowledgment of the elephant.

"Okay," she says, setting down her chopsticks and picking up her water glass. "This is… this is a little bit weird, isn't it?" She takes a sip of water, her gaze still holding yours over the rim of the glass. "Not bad-weird," she clarifies quickly, perhaps sensing your own internal monologue already composing a list of polite escape routes, "definitely good-weird. But still… wonderfully, ridiculously weird."

"Good-weird is my favorite kind of weird," you manage. The shared laughter, the naming of the awkwardness, has somehow made it less… awkward. "And yes, 'wonderfully, ridiculously weird' pretty much sums up my entire existence since moving to Seoul and, you know," you gesture vaguely to encompass her, the apartment, the situation, "all of this." You take another mouthful of jjigae, savoring the spice, buying yourself a moment. "Honestly, if you’d told fourteen-year-old me, the one convinced that high fashion was wearing a band t-shirt without holes in it, that one day I'd be having homemade kimchi jjigae in global K-Pop superstar Karina's apartment…" You shake your head, a wry smile playing on your lips. "Well, let's just say his tiny, angst-ridden brain would have imploded. He probably would have assumed it was a very elaborate prank involving hidden cameras."

Jimin laughs, a bright, clear sound that seems to chase away some of the shadows in the room. "Oh, please. Fourteen-year-old you was far too cynical for hidden camera pranks. You’d have assumed it was a stress-induced hallucination brought on by too many all-night gaming sessions." She pauses, her smile softening into something more reflective as she looks around her living space, then back at you, her dinner guest, the boy from her past sitting so improbably in her present. "But look at us now, huh? Actually sitting here, eating dinner, in my own place. Talking about nothing relevant… and just being. Like two reasonably functioning adults who manage to feed themselves without burning the building down." She takes a slow, deliberate bite of rice, her gaze drifting towards the window, towards the vast, glittering expanse of Seoul spread out below them. "Who would have thought any of this was possible back then?" She turns back to you, a wistful, almost tender smile on her lips. "Time flies, doesn’t it? Feels like a lifetime ago, and yesterday, all at once.”

There's a shared melancholy in the air, a sweet ache for the irretrievable past, but it's also undercut by the sheer, vibrating improbability of your present. You nod slowly, swirling the last of the spicy jjigae broth in your bowl, the warmth of it seeping into you, mirroring the warmth spreading through your chest from just… being here, with her.

"It really does," you agree. "One minute you're plotting how to get out of gym class, the next you're… well, you're an international icon, and I'm marveling at your exceptional kimchi jjigae skills and wondering if adulting comes with a manual they forgot to give me." You offer a small, self-deprecating smile, which she returns with a knowing one of her own.

"Tell me about it," she sighs, pushing her empty bowl away slightly. "Sometimes I look in the mirror and I'm still half expecting to see that gangly teenager with the terrible bangs staring back, wondering how on earth I’m supposed to lead a group and remember lyrics in different languages." She pauses, then a playful spark ignites in her eyes, chasing away the momentary wistfulness. "Speaking of adulting… that wine you brought isn't going to drink itself, is it?”

"An excellent point."

"Yeah," she says, already rising from the table. "Let me just wash these dishes and then we can relocate. My couch is significantly more comfortable for serious wine contemplation than these dining chairs. And you haven't even seen my prized collection of questionable drama movies yet, a true adult indulgence."

She begins clearing the table with an efficient grace, and you quickly stand to help, gathering bowls and chopsticks. "Questionable dramas, huh? I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Oh, you should be. We're talking peak early 2000s angst."

While she rinses the dishes (a task you offer to do but are again cheerfully waved off from) you retrieve the bottle of white wine from the counter where you’d left it. You find a corkscrew in a drawer after a brief, the satisfying pop of the cork feels like a small, official commencement of the evening’s next, less formal, chapter. Jimin reappears with two elegant, long-stemmed wine glasses.

Soon, you're both settled on her ridiculously plush sofa. It’s U-shaped, large enough that you’re not exactly pressed against each other, but close enough that you’re acutely aware of her presence, the subtle scent of her shampoo, the way the soft lamplight catches the curve of her cheek. She curls her legs up beneath her, looking impossibly small and cozy, and takes a grateful sip from her wine glass.

"Mmm," she hums, her eyes closing for a moment. "Okay, this is good. Way better than the soju bombs from our trainee day survival kits, that’s for sure."

You take a sip yourself. The wine is crisp and cool, a pleasant counterpoint to the lingering spice of the jjigae. "Glad it meets the approval of your sophisticated palate," you tease, settling back into the cushions. The sofa really is incredibly comfortable. Dangerously so. "Though I have a feeling even drain cleaner would taste good after some of the trainee stories I’ve heard."

She laughs, a full, unrestrained sound this time, and the warmth of it, combined with the wine already beginning to hum pleasantly in your veins, makes you feel… good. Really good. Relaxed in a way you haven’t been in weeks, maybe months.

"You have no idea," she says, shaking her head, a smile still playing on her lips. "There was this one time, during our first evaluation prep, we were all so stressed and sleep-deprived, Ningning tried to microwave a banana. The whole banana. Peel and all."

You snort with laughter, nearly choking on your wine. "No! What happened?"

"Let’s just say the dorm smelled like radioactive fruit for a week, and we were banned from unsupervised microwave usage," Jimin recounts, her eyes sparkling with shared amusement. "Our manager almost had a conniption. Good times. Peak adulting, right there."

The wine flows easily, and with it, the conversation. You find yourselves reminiscing more about those "good old days," the stories becoming funnier, sillier, with each glass. You remind her of the time she tried to dye her own hair blue using a questionable internet tutorial and ended up with three distinctly different shades of swamp green. She counters with the story of your spectacularly failed attempt to build a skateboard ramp in your backyard, which resulted in more bruises than airtime. The laughter comes more frequently now, less self-conscious, more open. There's a comfortable intimacy in revisiting these shared embarrassments.

With the second glass of wine, a subtle shift occurs. The silliness is still there, but it’s becoming tinged with a more playful, flirtatious edge. Maybe it’s the alcohol lowering inhibitions, or maybe it’s the cozy proximity on the sofa, or maybe it’s just the inevitable result of two people with a mountain of buried feelings finally being in a private, relaxed space together. You find yourself watching the way her lips curve when she smiles, the way she gestures animatedly when she’s telling a particularly outrageous story, the way her eyes seem to catch and hold yours for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"You know," she says, swirling the wine in her glass, her gaze a little unfocused, a little dreamy, "you were always surprisingly good at listening. Even when I was rambling about the most ridiculous, angsty teenage dramas. You’d just sit there and nod, like it was the most profound stuff you’d ever heard."

"Hey, your angst was top-tier," you reply. "It deserved a captive audience. Besides, someone had to make sure you didn't actually follow through on your threat to run away and join the circus after that disastrous school talent show audition." You lean a little closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. "Though, for the record, I still think your interpretive dance to that heavy metal song was… creatively ambitious."

She throws her head back and laughs, a genuine, unrestrained peal that makes your chest ache with a strange, sweet tenderness. When she sobers, she lightly punches your arm. "Oh, shut up! That was performance art! You just didn't understand my vision!" Her eyes are bright, cheeks flushed from the wine and the laughter, and she’s looking at you with an open, unguarded expression that makes your breath catch. "But seriously," she adds, "you were a good friend. Still are."

The compliment, simple as it is, lands with surprising weight. "You too, Jimin," you say, your voice equally soft, meeting her gaze. "Always."

Her eyes search yours, and you feel like she can see right through your carefully constructed facade, right down to the terrified, hopeful teenager still lurking somewhere inside. The wine has definitely done its job; the world feels a little softer around the edges, your inhibitions are pleasantly fuzzy, and the desire to just reach out, to bridge that small remaining distance on the couch, is becoming overwhelmingly, dangerously strong.

The wine, crisp and cool, continues its delightful work, unspooling the tightly wound threads of formality and apprehension that had clung to the early evening. Each sip seems to loosen your tongue a little more, and Jimin’s too. The comfortable U-shaped sofa, initially a vast expanse, feels like it’s subtly shrinking, or perhaps you’re both just… gravitating. Her laughter, when you recount another particularly embarrassing anecdote from your shared school days, is no longer just a polite chuckle. It’s a full-bodied, unrestrained peal of mirth that makes her lean back against the cushions, her eyes squeezed shut, one hand playfully batting at your arm.

You find yourself grinning like an idiot, the warmth spreading through your chest having very little to do with the alcohol content of the wine and everything to do with the sound of her unbridled joy.

"It’s funny, isn’t it? All those little things we obsessed over back then, thinking they were the most important things in the world." She swirls the wine in her glass, watching the pale liquid catch the light. "Who you sat with at lunch, whether you got picked for the team, if that one person looked at you in the hallway…"

Her voice trails off on that last phrase, and there’s a subtle shift in her tone, a new layer of something… emerging from beneath the playful banter. She takes a breath, then turns to you, her eyes, luminous in the dim light, searching yours. The playful glint is gone.

"Can I… can I tell you something? Something really stupid I used to think back then?"

Your heart gives a little thump. "Of course," you say. "My lips are sealed. And my capacity for judging stupid teenage thoughts is, believe me, at an all-time low, considering my own track record."

She offers a small, grateful smile, then her gaze drops to her wine glass, her fingers tracing the rim. "Okay, well… don’t laugh." A pause, then, so softly you almost miss it, "I… I used to have the biggest crush on you."

Your brain, already pleasantly fuzzy from the wine, seems to stall for a moment, trying to process. Jimin. Had a crush. On you. The fourteen-year-old version of you, the one with the questionable sense of humor and the complete inability to talk to girls he actually liked without sounding like a malfunctioning robot, would have spontaneously combusted from sheer disbelief and elation. Even now, the adult, slightly-more-composed version of you is struggling to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

She peeks up at you through her lashes, a nervous blush creeping up her neck. "See? Stupid, right? I was so sure you just saw me as, like, your annoying little sister’s best friend, or just… Jimin, the dork who was always around. I used to spend hours overthinking every single thing you said to me, trying to decipher if there was some hidden meaning." She lets out a shaky little laugh. "God, it was exhausting."

You stare at her, a slow, incredulous smile starting to spread across your face. The irony, oh, the beautiful, painful irony of it all. All those years of your own silent, all-consuming crush, your own agonizing over every shared glance, every casual word, thinking she was completely oblivious, completely out of reach.

"Jimin," you begin. You clear your throat. "That’s… wow." You shake your head, a laugh bubbling up, a laugh of pure, unadulterated shock and a strange, retroactive relief. "The only thing 'stupid' about that is that I was doing the exact same goddamn thing."

Her head snaps up, her eyes widening, the blush on her cheeks deepening to a vibrant crimson.

"What?" she breathes. "You… you did? With… with me?"

"With you?" you echo, a wide, disbelieving grin plastered on your face. "Are you kidding? You were all I thought about. I was hopelessly, pathetically gone on you. I just… I figured you were way out of my league. That you only tolerated my presence because we were stuck in the same school and our families knew each other." The confession tumbles out, easy now, liberating, fueled by the wine and the sudden revelation of her own past feelings. It’s like a dam has broken, years of unspoken emotion finally finding their release.

She just stares at you, speechless for a long moment, her wine glass forgotten in her hand. Then, a tiny, incredulous laugh escapes her. "No. Way." She shakes her head slowly, as if trying to rearrange the entire narrative of her teenage years. "All that time? We were both…?"

"Apparently," you confirm, still grinning. "Two oblivious idiots, crushing on each other in silence. We could have written a really angsty, badly plotted teen drama."

She finally lets out a full laugh, leaning back against the sofa, looking utterly flabbergasted but also… lighter. "This is insane. I can’t believe it." Her eyes are shining, and not just from the wine anymore. "You know," she says, her voice regaining some of its earlier playful lilt, though it’s softer now, more intimate, "I used to get so jealous. Back then. If I saw you talking to… to other girls. Especially if they were, you know, prettier, or cooler." She makes a face, a little embarrassed. "It sounds so silly now, but it was true. I’d be all smiles on the outside, but inside, I’d be like, 'How dare she laugh at his stupid jokes? I’m the one who’s supposed to laugh at his stupid jokes!'"

You reach out, without really thinking, and gently touch her arm. "Hey. It wasn't silly. Or if it was, then I was just as silly."

Her gaze meets yours, and there's a warmth, a connection in that look that feels more real, more profound, than anything you've shared in years. She holds your gaze for a long moment, then a shadow crosses her face, her voice drops again, hesitant. "It’s funny… or, not funny, but… I kind of felt that way again. Recently." She looks down at her lap, tracing patterns on her pants with a fingertip. "When I saw you talking with Ning and the others that day in the lounge."

Your heart clenches. You remember that day, her sudden appearance, the tension.

"You all looked like you were having so much fun," she continues, "And they’re all so… bright, and funny, and talented. And for a second, this stupid thought just popped into my head, like… what if you ditch me for them? What if they’re more entertaining, or cooler to be around now? What if… what if I’m not that interesting anymore, compared to them?" She lets out a little, self-deprecating huff of air. "It sounds even dumber saying it out loud."

You gently cup her chin, tilting her face up so she has to look at you.

"Jimin," you say. "Listen to me. There is no one, no one, who could ever make me ditch you. And there is absolutely no one, not Ning, not Giselle, not Winter, not anyone on this entire planet, who is 'cooler' or 'more entertaining' or 'more interesting' than you are to me." You search her eyes, willing her to believe you. "And no one," you add, "no one makes me feel the way I feel when I’m with you. Not then. And definitely not now."

Her eyes search yours, wide and luminous, and you can see the emotions warring within them: surprise, disbelief, and then, slowly, a dawning, fragile hope. A single tear escapes and traces a path down her cheek, and you reach up, your thumb gently brushing it away, your touch lingering on her soft skin for just a heartbeat longer than necessary.

"When… when we met again," she begins, so fragile you have to lean in slightly to catch it. "That day on the street? All those… those old feelings…" She swallows hard, her gaze dropping to her hands, now twisting in her lap. "They just… they came rushing back. All of them. And I thought… I really thought I was over it. Over you." She attempts a small, shaky laugh that doesn't quite land. "So stupid. I’m a grown woman, a K-Pop idol, for crying out loud. I shouldn’t be… I shouldn’t be feeling like a confused teenager all over again just because my childhood crush reappeared."

She tries to continue, her lips parting, but the words seem to catch in her throat. Her brow furrows in frustration, and she shakes her head, a gesture of helpless self-reproach. "I… I can’t even…" Another aborted attempt. She looks up at you, her eyes swimming with unshed tears, a look of utter bewilderment on her face. "I'm sorry," she blurts out. "I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. It must be the wine. It’s making me all… emotional and stupid." She gestures vaguely, a hand fluttering near her chest. "I’m probably ruining everything, aren't I? Just… ignore me. I’m being ridiculous." She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, as if trying to physically block out her own chaotic emotions.

And in that instant, watching her so raw, so vulnerable, so utterly terrified of her own feelings (feelings that mirror your own chaotic internal landscape so perfectly) something inside you just… snaps. All the overthinking, all the caution, all the years of unspoken longing, converge into a single, undeniable impulse. The wine, the dim lights, the confessions, her tear-streaked face so close to yours… it’s a perfect storm, and you’re right in the eye of it. To hell with professionalism, to hell with the risks, to hell with everything but the raw, undeniable truth thrumming between you.

Before you can second-guess it, before your internal HR department can scream bloody murder, you lean forward and kiss her.

It’s not a gentle, tentative kiss. It’s clumsy, desperate, fueled by years of pent-up emotion and too much wine. Your lips meet hers, and for a split second, she’s completely still, a statue beneath your sudden onslaught. Her eyes fly open, wide and startled, pupils blown huge in the dim light, reflecting a pure, unadulterated shock. You feel the soft, unexpected give of her lips, the faint taste of wine and something uniquely Jimin, a taste you realize, with a jolt, you’ve been subconsciously craving for more than half your life.

For a horrifying moment, you think you’ve made a monumental mistake. Idiot! You absolute, unmitigated idiot! your brain screams. You’ve broken her! You’ve ruined everything! The irony of her exact words now applying to your actions is not lost on you, even in your panic.

But then, just as you’re about to pull away, to stammer out a mortified apology, something shifts. Her eyelids flutter closed. A tiny, almost inaudible sigh escapes her, a breath she seems to have been holding for a lifetime. And then, slowly, tentatively, she gives in. Her lips soften against yours, responding with a hesitant pressure that builds, her body relaxing slightly against the sofa cushions. The kiss deepens, still a little clumsy, still a little desperate, but now with an undeniable mutuality, a shared exploration of a boundary crossed together.

When you finally, breathlessly, pull apart, the silence in the room is deafening. You stare at her, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. Her eyes are still closed for a moment, her lashes dark against her flushed cheeks. Then they slowly open, and she just… stares back at you, her expression unreadable, dazed, her lips slightly swollen and glistening. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You can only watch her, bracing for the fallout.

And then, her face crumples. Her lower lip trembles, and her carefully constructed composure shatters completely. A choked sob escapes her, and fat, silent tears begin to stream down her cheeks, unheeded. It’s not the reaction you were hoping for. It’s definitely not the reaction you were hoping for.

"Oh, god, Jimin, I…" Panic, cold and sharp, seizes you. You have ruined it. "I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I just… I’m an idiot. Please, don’t cry. I’m so, so sorry." The words tumble out, a frantic, jumbled apology.

She shakes her head, swiping at her tears with the back of her hand, though more quickly follow. "No," she whispers. "No, it’s… it’s okay." And then, to your utter astonishment, she launches herself at you, her arms wrapping around your neck, burying her face in your shoulder, her body trembling with silent sobs. You instinctively wrap your arms around her, holding her close, your mind reeling.

"I… I liked it," she mumbles into your shirt, her voice muffled but audible. "I really did." She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes red-rimmed but shining with a confusing mix of emotions. "It’s just… it’s all… it’s a lot. Everything. All at once. Coming back. I feel… I feel kind of weird." She lets out another shaky laugh that sounds more like a sob. "Overwhelmed, I guess."

Fuck. She liked it. She actually liked it. You haven't irrevocably destroyed your friendship, your job, and your chances of ever experiencing joy again. Small victories. You gently shift on the plush sofa, pulling her more fully into your embrace until she’s settled somewhat in your lap, her side tucked against your chest. It feels incredibly intimate, yet also profoundly comforting. You rest your cheek against the top of her head, her hair soft against your skin, smelling faintly of her shampoo. After a few long minutes, her trembling stops. She lets out a deep, shuddering sigh and slowly lifts her head from your shoulder. Her eyes are still puffy, her cheeks tear-stained, but there’s a new calmness in her expression, a fragile sort of peace. She looks at you, her gaze soft and searching.

Then, a small, watery smile touches her lips. She reaches up, her hand, so small and delicate, coming to rest on your cheek. Her thumb gently strokes your skin.

"You know," she whispers. "for someone who claims to be an idiot…" Her smile widens, a genuine, almost dazzling Jimin-smile breaking through the tear-stained landscape of her face. "You’re not always wrong."

And then, before you can even process that, before you can form a coherent thought or even remember how to breathe properly, she leans in, her eyes fluttering closed, and kisses you.

This time, there’s no surprise, no hesitation. It’s a kiss that is both a question and an answer, a culmination and a beginning. It’s soft, tender, yet filled with an undercurrent of all those years of unspoken feelings, of rediscovered emotions, of the undeniable, terrifying, exhilarating truth that is thrumming between you. It’s a kiss that tastes of wine, and tears, and a hope so potent it makes your head spin.

When she pulls back, her eyes are galaxies, dark and swirling with emotion, a universe you’re only just beginning to navigate. A delighted, slightly breathless giggle escapes her, then you’re laughing too, a shared, giddy sound that bounces off the walls of her apartment.

"Wow," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "This… this really happened, didn't it?" Her eyes search yours, looking for confirmation in a world that suddenly feels wonderfully, terrifyingly new.

"It really, really did," you affirm. The air between you is no longer just charged; it’s practically incandescent, thrumming with a potent energy that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end. The earlier nervousness hasn’t vanished, but it’s been transmuted into something else. She leans her forehead against yours for a moment, just breathing, then pulls back slightly, her eyes alight.

Her fingers, still feather-light against your skin, drift down from your jaw to the collar of your shirt. She toys with the fabric, a slow, deliberate movement, her gaze fixed on yours. The city lights outside paint her in hues of gold and shadow, making her look even more ethereal, more achingly beautiful.

"You know," she says, "you haven't, uh… you haven't seen my room yet." Her eyes flick towards a hallway leading off the main living area, then back to yours.

Your own breath hitches. You try to swallow, your throat suddenly dry. "No, I haven't," you manage. You search her eyes, needing to be absolutely sure. "Would you… would you like to show me?"

A slow, devastatingly beautiful smile spreads across her face. It’s a smile of pure, unadulterated desire, mixed with a touch of that endearing shyness that still clings to her, even now. "Yes," she breathes. "Yes, I really would."

That’s all the confirmation you need. In one fluid movement you lean forward, sliding one arm beneath her knees, the other around her back. You lift her effortlessly from the sofa, her gasp of surprise quickly turning into a delighted laugh as she instinctively wraps her arms around your neck, her legs around your waist. She feels impossibly light, yet incredibly solid in your arms, a perfect, intoxicating weight. And then you’re kissing her again, deeply, hungrily, the earlier tenderness now ignited with a fiercer, more demanding passion.

"Which way?" you murmur against her mouth, your lips still brushing hers.

"That way," she whispers, gesturing with a slight tilt of her head down the hallway, never breaking the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer.

You carry her through the apartment, your steps sure and steady despite the roaring in your ears and the way your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest. Each step feels monumental, a journey into uncharted territory. She guides you with soft murmurs and the pressure of her body against yours, her kisses becoming more urgent, more demanding, her breath coming in soft, quick gasps against your skin.

Her bedroom is at the end of the hall. She reaches out a hand, fumbling for the doorknob, then pushes it open. You step inside, and the world seems to tilt again. The room is bathed in a soft, ambient glow from the city outside, filtered through sheer curtains, creating an atmosphere that is both intimate and dreamlike. It’s perfect.

You carry her over to the bed, your lips still locked with hers, a desperate, continuous kiss that speaks of years of unspoken longing. Gently, reverently, you lower her onto the soft duvet, following her down, bracing yourself on your hands on either side of her head. You break the kiss, just for a moment, to gaze down at her. Her eyes are dark and dilated, her lips swollen and flushed from your kisses, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

"God, Jimin," you breathe. You lower your head, burying your face in the soft skin of her neck, inhaling her scent, feeling the frantic pulse throbbing beneath your lips. "You are so unbelievably beautiful." You kiss the delicate curve where her neck meets her shoulder, then trail a line of slow, deliberate kisses up towards her ear. "The most beautiful girl in the world," you whisper, your lips brushing her earlobe. "You always have been. Always."

A soft, shuddering moan escapes her as you continue your exploration, your lips and tongue tracing patterns on her sensitive skin, tasting the salt and sweetness of her. Her breathing becomes more irregular, deeper, her fingers tightening in your hair, her hips starting to shift restlessly beneath you. You feel her arch into your touch, a silent plea for more.

Your hands, which have been resting on the bed beside her, begin their own exploration. They find the hem of her soft, oversized sweater, your fingers brushing against the warm, pale skin of her stomach beneath it. Her skin is like silk, radiating a heat that sets your own nerves on fire. You tug at the sweater gently, slowly, agonizingly, your eyes locked on hers, watching her reaction. Her eyelids are heavy, her lips parted, a look of pure, unadulterated anticipation on her face. With a final, deliberate pull, you slide the sweater up and over her head, tossing it carelessly aside.

And there they are.

Her breasts, even constrained by the delicate lace of her bra, are undeniably magnificent. Full, heavy, spilling slightly from the cups, their pale, creamy expanse a stark, breathtaking contrast to the dark fabric. You can see the gentle slope, the promise of their weight. Your own breath hitches in your throat. This is the reality of Karina, of Jimin, laid bare before you, a sight you’ve only dared to dream of in your most secret, most forbidden fantasies.

You take off your shoes, kicking them aside, never taking your eyes off her. As you reach for the hem of your own shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons in your haste, you see her hands move to her back. With a deft, practiced movement, she unhooks her bra. She holds it in place for a moment longer, her gaze locking with yours, a shy, almost vulnerable smile playing on her lips.

"I… I hope you like them," she whispers.

Then, with a deep breath, she lets the bra fall away.

Your world stops. Absolutely, irrevocably stops. Her breasts are… perfect. More than perfect. They are everything you've ever imagined, and so much more. They are large, gloriously full, spilling into her hands as she cups them for a moment, as if presenting a sacred offering. The skin is so pale it seems almost luminous in the dim light, smooth and flawless, save for the faint blue veins tracing delicate patterns just beneath the surface, hinting at the life and warmth within. Her areolas are a dusky rose, wide and perfectly formed, and at their centers, her nipples, a deeper, more insistent pink, are already hard and erect, puckered tight, practically begging for your touch, for your mouth. They look so incredibly soft, so utterly… juicy, for lack of a better, more reverent word.

You’re mesmerized, completely transfixed, your throat dry, your mind blissfully, wonderfully blank save for the overwhelming, primal need to touch, to taste, to worship. After what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a few seconds, you slowly reach out a trembling hand. Your fingers make contact with the warm, yielding softness of her right breast. She gasps softly as you cup its weight, your thumb brushing over the taut, sensitive peak of her nipple. So warm. So unbelievably soft. You gently squeeze, a possessive, reverent pressure, and a low moan rumbles in her chest, vibrating against your palm.

She lies back fully on the bed then, her arms stretching above her head, her body an open, trusting invitation. You quickly shed your shirt, your movements urgent, driven by a desire that is rapidly consuming every last shred of your self-control. You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself above her, your knees on either side of her hips, your gaze still fixed on the breathtaking sight of her bare, beautiful breasts.

And then, you lower your head and take one of those perfect, pink nipples into your mouth.

She cries out, a sharp, breathless sound that is pure, unadulterated pleasure, her back arching off the bed, her fingers digging into your shoulders. Her breast fills your mouth, the taste of her skin, salty and sweet, intoxicating. You suck gently at first, then more strongly, your tongue laving, teasing, drawing the hardened peak deeper. She is melting beneath you, writhing, her hips starting to buck a little, a silent plea for more.

"Oh, god," she gasps. "Yes… fuck, yes… right there… they’re so… so sensitive…" Her words are broken, punctuated by moans and sharp intakes of breath. "Please… don’t stop… keep going… it’s… it’s making me so fucking horny…"

You shift your attention to her other breast, giving it the same devoted worship, laving, sucking, gently nipping, while your hand continues to squeeze and caress the one you just abandoned, ensuring both are bathed in sensation. You can feel the frantic thrumming of her heart against your chest, the heat radiating from her skin, the way her entire body is trembling, on the verge of completely unraveling. You lift your head for a moment, just to look at her, at the sight of her, utterly consumed by lust, her eyes half-closed, her lips parted, her beautiful breasts flushed and glistening from your attention. This is Jimin. This is Karina. And she is yours, in this moment, completely and utterly yours to worship, to pleasure, to drive absolutely insane.

You continue your worship of her breasts, alternating between them, lavishing each with an equal, fervent devotion. One hand cradles the breast you’re not currently feasting on, your thumb flicking, teasing the already hard nipple, while your mouth works its magic on its twin. You suck strongly, drawing the peak deep, feeling the responsive tug in her body, the way her hips tilt upwards, seeking a friction that isn’t there yet.

"Fuck, yes," she pants, her fingers still tangled in your hair, now gripping, almost painfully tight, but you welcome the anchor in the storm of sensation you’re both caught in. "They’re so… oh god… so good… your mouth…"

You lift your head for a moment, your lips slick, your gaze devouring the sight of her: her chest flushed a deep rose, her nipples impossibly tight, glistening with your saliva, already looking delightfully, beautifully ravaged.

"Yours are the best, Jimin," you growl. "Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. I could suck on these gorgeous tits all night."

A choked laugh, half sob, half pure ecstasy, bubbles from her throat. "Please do… God, yes… you suck so fucking well…"

You dive back in, attacking her nipples with renewed ferocity, sucking, licking, nipping gently with your teeth, drawing out her moans. You leave your marks, faint red circles blooming on her pale skin where your lips have been. Her breasts are indeed glistening, slick with your drool and her own faint sheen of sweat. She’s thrashing beneath you now, no longer trying to control her reactions, her head tossing from side to side on the pillows, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. Each pull of your mouth seems to send shivers racking through her entire frame.

Slowly, reluctantly, you drag your mouth away from her sensitive breasts, leaving them flushed, swollen, and thoroughly worshipped. Her soft whimper of protest is cut short as you begin to trail a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the center of her torso, over the subtle curve of her ribcage, across the quivering expanse of her flat, pale stomach. Each kiss is deliberate, lingering, your tongue flicking out to taste her skin. You feel the muscles in her abdomen clench and flutter beneath your lips.

"Don’t stop," she whispers, her hands now gripping the bedsheets on either side of her. "Please… whatever you’re doing… just… more."

You continue your downward pilgrimage, your lips brushing against the waistband of her lounge pants. They’re soft, loose-fitting, and offer little resistance as your fingers find the drawstring. With a deft tug, you loosen it, then slowly, agonizingly slowly, begin to slide the fabric down her hips, revealing the delicate curve of her hipbone, the smooth, pale skin of her thighs. Your hands skim down her legs, pushing the pants further, until they’re pooled around her ankles. You kick them impatiently off the end of the bed, your gaze fixed on the prize they were concealing.

Her panties. A tiny scrap of pale pink lace, stretched taut across the apex of her thighs, already dark with her wetness. Her thighs, usually so strong and toned from years of dancing, are trembling uncontrollably now, a fine sheen of moisture glistening on their pale inner surfaces. The musky scent of her arousal is stronger here. You can practically feel the heat radiating from between her legs.

"Look at you," you murmur as you trail your fingers along the damp lace, feeling the heat and moisture seeping through. "So wet for me already, aren’t you, babe? Fucking dripping."

A broken sob escapes her. "Yes… oh god, yes… please… I need…" She can’t even finish the sentence, her body arching, her hips instinctively grinding against the mattress.

You pull the panties down, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, revealing her to your hungry gaze.

And she is, as you knew she would be, perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. Her shaved pussy is nestled between her thighs, a delicate, swollen mound. The outer lips are plump, flushed a deep, inviting pink, already glistening with her slick, arousal-heavy dew. They part slightly as you watch, revealing the even pinker, more tender flesh within, and the glint of her clit, a tiny, perfect pearl peeking out, already engorged and throbbing. This is the core of her, the secret, hidden place you’ve only ever dreamed of, now laid bare for your worship.

You shift your position, moving from beside her to kneel between her parted thighs. They tremble slightly as you settle there, and she lets out a shaky breath, her eyes, dark and wide, fixed on yours. There’s a beautiful, terrifying vulnerability in her gaze, a silent plea that makes your cock ache with an almost painful intensity. But you’re not going to rush this. Oh no. This moment, this offering, is too precious, too long-awaited. She needs to feel every second of this descent into pleasure, every nuance of her own burgeoning, desperate need. You’re going to make her burn for it. You’re going to make her beg.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Jimin," you murmur. Your gaze drops from her eyes to the glistening treasure nestled between her thighs, then deliberately, slowly, travels to the pale, trembling skin of her inner thigh. "So incredibly, exquisitely responsive."

Instead of diving straight for her pussy, as every instinct screams at you to do, you lean down and press a soft, lingering kiss to the delicate skin high on her inner left thigh, just inches from that wet, waiting heat. She gasps, her whole body jerking, her thighs instinctively trying to clench together, but you gently hold them apart, your hands firm but gentle on her hips.

"Easy now," you whisper against her skin, your breath hot. "Don't want to miss any of this, do we?"

You trail another kiss, then another, working your way in a slow, agonizing circle around that central, beckoning core, never quite touching it, but always promising it. Your tongue darts out, tasting the faint saltiness of her skin, the faintest hint of her arousal that has already slicked even this far out. With each kiss, each lick against her thigh, you feel her tremors intensify. Her fingers are fisted in the bedsheets, her knuckles white.

"What… what are you doing?" she pants. "Please… you’re… you’re driving me crazy."

"Am I, babe?" you purr, your lips brushing the impossibly soft skin just beside one of her swollen, pink outer lips. You can smell her now, that rich, musky, uniquely feminine scent of pure, unadulterated horniness, and it’s making you lightheaded, drunk on her desire. "Driving you crazy how? Tell me." You dip your tongue out again, this time lapping up a stray droplet of her slick wetness that has trickled onto her thigh. Her taste… fuck, it’s even better than you imagined. Sweet, tangy, utterly addictive. You groan softly into her skin. "Oh, you taste so fucking good right here… just a hint of what’s waiting for me."

"Please…" she begs. "Don’t… don’t tease me like this. I can’t… I can’t take it." Her hips are starting to move now, a small, involuntary rocking motion, trying to seek out the pressure of your mouth.

"Can't take what, Jimin?" you ask. You drag your open mouth slowly up her inner thigh, leaving a wet trail, then switch to the other, lavishing it with the same agonizingly slow attention. You can feel the heat pouring off her in waves. "You need to tell me what you want. Use your words, baby. You want me to stop?" You deliberately pull back a fraction of an inch, letting the cool air hit her heated skin, and she whimpers, a raw, frustrated sound.

"No! No, don’t stop, please, whatever you do, don’t stop," she cries. "I want… I want your mouth. There. Please. I need it. I’m so wet for you, can’t you feel it? Can’t you taste it?" Her words are a torrent now, the carefully constructed composure of Karina completely shattered, leaving only the raw, needy core of Jimin. "I’m aching… I’m fucking aching for your tongue, please… just… just eat me out. Suck my clit. Please, I’m begging you."

Her plea is music to your ears. She’s so close, so desperate. But you’re not quite done with her yet. You want her utterly, completely undone.

"Beg me how, sweet girl?" you murmur, your lips now hovering directly over her glistening, swollen clit, your hot breath fanning the sensitive nub. She gasps, her whole body seizing. "Tell me how badly you need it. Tell me what a good girl you’ll be if I finally give you what you’re craving. Convince me." The strategic irony here is that you're already convinced, already harder than you've ever been in your life, but the game, the sight of her unraveling at your command, It's the best feeling in the world.

"I’ll be so good," she sobs, her thighs trembling violently now, threatening to clamp shut around your head. "So fucking good for you. I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Just please… please put your mouth on me. I’m dying here. I need to feel your tongue… I need you to make me cum… I’m so close… Please, babe, suck me… suck me like you mean it…"

Her words, that broken, desperate plea to be eaten out, are the only permission you need. You lower your head, your hair brushing against the pale skin of her inner thighs, and finally, finally, you give in. You press your mouth fully against her, parting her slick, swollen lips with your own, and your tongue finds her clit. A sound is torn from her throat, a high, sharp keen that’s half shock and half pure, unadulterated pleasure. Her entire body jolts as if struck by lightning, her hips slamming upwards into your face in a single, convulsive movement. The taste of her floods your senses, and it's everything. It’s not just the sweet, tangy flavor of her arousal you'd already sampled from her thighs; it's deeper, muskier, the very essence of her, and it's intoxicating.

You're instantly, hopelessly addicted. You begin slowly, a reverent worship. Your tongue is soft, exploratory, lapping at her gently, learning the landscape of her. You trace the delicate shape of her outer lips, then dip inside to swirl around the plump, sensitive inner folds before focusing on that hardened pearl of her clit.

"Oh, god..." she breathes, her hands flying up to tangle in your hair, not pulling, just holding on as if she might float away. "Yes... that's..."

You hum against her, a low, deep vibration that you feel travel through her entire body. She lets out another soft cry. Her muscles are still coiled with tension, but it's the tension of overwhelming sensation, not desperation. She is melting, and you are the cause.

"Just relax for me, baby," you murmur against her slick flesh. "Just let me taste you. You're so perfect."

You settle in, continuing the slow, deliberate worship. For long minutes, this is all that exists: the sound of your mouth against her, her soft, breathy moans, and the rich, intoxicating taste of her on your tongue. Her hips are no longer bucking but have settled into a slow, swaying rhythm, rocking against your mouth in time with the gentle lapping of your tongue. She has given you control, and you intend to savor it. You can feel the change when her body becomes fully accustomed to the pleasure, when the slow worship is no longer enough. Her gentle sways become more insistent, her breath hitches with a new need, and her fingers tighten in your hair, this time with a subtle, pleading tug. She wants more. And you are going to make her beg for it.

You shift your technique, beginning the torture. You pull your mouth away from her clit, trailing your tongue down along the slick valley between her labia. She whimpers in protest, her hips pushing up, seeking the focused pressure you just denied her.

"Shhh," you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to one of her swollen inner lips. "So much to taste here. Can't rush."

You proceed to lavish attention on every other part of her, everywhere but the one place she is dying for you to be. You lick the plump flesh of her lips, suck gently on the inner folds, your tongue darting out to trace the rim of her opening, dipping just the very tip inside before pulling away. With every near-miss, a frustrated cry is torn from her throat.

"Please..." she pants, her hips rocking more frantically now. "Please... you're... you're driving me crazy. My clit... I need you there."

"Here?" you ask. You flick your tongue directly over the sensitive nub one time, fast and hard. She yelps, her whole body convulsing. Then you pull away again, moving to trace lazy circles on the sensitive skin around her. "You liked that, didn't you? Tell me how much you liked it."

"Yes! Fuck, yes, I loved it," she sobs. "Please, do it again. Don't tease me... I can't take it. Just... just suck it, please."

"Beg me," you command softly, your hot breath ghosting over her clit, making her shiver. "Tell me exactly what you want my mouth to do to you. I want to hear how desperate you are for it."

She’s a mess, completely undone by your teasing. "I'm so desperate for you," she cries, her words tumbling over each other. "I need your tongue on my clit. I need you to suck on it, hard. Lick me until I can't think. Please, I'm begging you. I'll do anything. Just go back there. I feel like I'm going to die if you don't."

Her plea is everything you wanted. You slide your mouth back over her, but instead of the hard pressure she's begging for, you give her the opposite. You open your mouth wide, your tongue flat, and you just... lick. Long, slow, deliberate strokes from the base of her mound, up over her clit, all the way to her perineum, and back down again. It’s a broad, wet, agonizingly gentle sensation.

"No..." she groans, a sound of pure frustration. "Harder... please, you have to do it harder."

"I don't have to do anything, baby," you murmur, continuing the slow, torturous laps. "I'm in control here. You'll take it how I give it to you. And right now, I want to feel you squirm."

She thrashes beneath you, so close to the edge but held back by your deliberate restraint. Her nails are digging into your scalp now, not painfully, but with a frantic urgency. It’s time to escalate. It's time to break her completely. While continuing the slow, steady rhythm of your tongue, you slide one hand down between her thighs. Her skin is flushed and hot to the touch. Your fingers find her entrance, already slick and gaping, practically weeping with need. You slide one finger inside her.

She screams, a raw, ragged sound, as the new sensation of being filled sends a fresh shockwave through her system. She’s so tight, so hot, clenching around your finger instantly. You push your finger deeper, feeling the texture of her inner walls, the way she convulses around you.

"That's it, Jimin," you praise, your voice muffled against her. "Take my finger. Feel how wet you are? Fucking dripping for me."

Now you change the rhythm of your tongue, finally giving her the focused attention she craved. You suck her clit into your mouth, your tongue working fast and hard, while your finger inside her establishes a steady in-and-out rhythm. The dual sensations are too much. She is completely lost.

"Fuck! Yes, both..." she gasps. "It's… it's too much… I'm going to…"

You add a second finger, stretching her, filling her more completely. She cries out again, her back arching so high off the bed it's a perfect, strained bow. Her pussy milks your fingers, slick and greedy. You can feel the muscles deep inside her starting to flutter, the tell-tale sign that her orgasm is gathering strength.

"You feel that, baby?" you ask, curling your fingers inside her, rubbing them against the nub of her g-spot. "My tongue on your clit, my fingers deep in your cunt. Does that feel good?"

"So good!" she screams. "It feels so fucking good! I'm so close, don't stop, please, please don't stop!"

You are her entire world now. She is aware of nothing but your mouth and your fingers, driving her towards the abyss. You increase the pace of everything. Your tongue is a frantic engine on her clit, sucking, flicking, laving. Your fingers pump in and out of her relentlessly. You can feel the final tension coiling in her body, a string stretched to its breaking point. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and her moans have become a single, continuous, high-pitched keen.

"I'm going to make you come so hard, Jimin," you growl into her. "You're going to scream my name. Get ready."

You feel it start, the first deep, internal clench around your fingers. Her entire body goes rigid.

"I'm cumming! Oh fuck, I'm cumming! I'm cummmmming!"

Her scream is primal as her orgasm rips through her, a violent, world-shattering release. Her body convulses, her hips slamming up against your mouth in a desperate, uncontrollable rhythm. Her juices gush out of her, hot and thick, flooding your mouth with the sweet, musky taste of her release. You swallow greedily, catching every single drop as her body is wracked by wave after wave of intense pleasure. You don't stop your ministrations, gentling your touch now, your tongue soothing her hypersensitive clit, your fingers massaging her inner walls as the aftershocks ripple through her.

Slowly, her body goes limp, collapsing back onto the mattress. She’s trembling from head to toe, her chest rising and falling in deep, ragged pants. Her eyes are squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners, her face flushed a deep crimson. You finally lift your head, your chin and lips slick with her, and look at the masterpiece of your work.

You lean down, capturing her mouth in a soft, lingering kiss. It’s a stark contrast to the hungry, desperate kisses you shared before. This one is tender. She moans softly into your mouth, and you taste it: the lingering, musky sweetness of her own climax. She tastes it too, a jolt going through her body as she recognizes herself on your tongue. A faint blush rises on her already flushed cheeks, a mix of shy embarrassment and burgeoning arousal.

You pull back just enough to gaze down at her. Her hair is a wild halo around her head, her lips are swollen, her eyes are still dazed and beautifully unfocused. She is the most magnificent thing you have ever seen.

"You look so beautiful like this," you say. "Completely undone for me."

"You're an asshole," she whispers, but there’s no heat in it, only a deep, lingering pleasure. "Don't you ever tease me like that again." As she says it, she shifts, leaning up just enough to press her teeth against the side of your neck in a playful, possessive bite. It’s not hard, just a firm pressure.

You chuckle, then pepper her cheeks with soft kisses. "I'm sorry," you say, not sounding sorry at all. "I couldn't help it." You lean in close, your lips brushing her ear. "Hearing you beg for me, Jimin… hearing you lose control and tell me how much you needed it… it makes me fucking crazy. It’s addictive. I don't think I'll ever get enough of it."

Her breath hitches. Your words, your confession that her submission drives you wild, are exactly what she needs to hear. As you pull back, her eyes, now clear and focused, glitter with a new, dangerous kind of light. Her hand slides from your cheek, down your chest, over your stomach, coming to rest directly on the hard ridge of your cock through the denim of your jeans. Her fingers close around you, a firm, knowing grip that makes you hiss through your teeth. She squeezes, feeling the full, thick length of your cock straining against the fabric.

A slow, devastatingly confident smile spreads across her face. "Addictive, huh?" she purrs, her voice regaining its strength. "I can beg for a lot more than that." Her gaze drops from your eyes to your crotch, then back up, her expression pure, unadulterated hunger. "And right now," she says, her grip tightening, "I really, really want your cock."

Her words are a command and a plea all in one. Without another word, you pull away from her, getting off the bed. Her eyes are wide, tracking your every move as you reach for the button on your jeans. You undo it, the sound loud in the quiet room, then slowly pull down the zipper. You never break eye contact. You hook your thumbs into the waistband and push the jeans down over your hips, kicking them off impatiently.

Now you stand before her in just your dark boxer briefs. The fabric does little to hide the truth, straining to contain the thick, heavy bulge of your erection. You see her eyes fixate on it, her lips parting slightly. A sharp intake of breath is the only sound she makes. She is, as you suspected, absolutely captivated.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear. "You wanted this, remember?" you ask. You drag the fabric down slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until your cock springs free, heavy and thick in the dim light.

Jimin lets out a long, shuddering sigh. It’s a sound of pure awe. Your cock is fully hard, glistening with a bead of clear, slick precum. It’s big, bigger than she probably imagined, and her eyes trace its length, from the heavy weight of your balls to the thick shaft and the promising, wet tip.

You don't give her too long to just look. You move back to the bed, climbing on and positioning yourself between her parted legs. They tremble slightly as you settle in, her thighs falling open to grant you full access. She's still so beautifully wrecked, so open and waiting for you. You take your cock in your hand, stroking it slowly, the pre-cum making your skin slick. You want her to watch. You want her to see exactly what is about to fill that empty, aching space inside her.

"Wait," you say. The thought hits you, a brief flash of real-world responsibility in this haze of lust. "Condoms. We should..."

"No," she says immediately, her voice firm, cutting you off. She shakes her head, her eyes blazing with a fierce, undeniable need. "No. I don't care about that right now. I need to feel you. All of you. I just want to feel your dick inside me. Now."

You hesitate, searching her face. "Jimin, are you sure?"

"Yes," she moans. Her hips arch off the bed, a desperate, silent invitation. "Please. I'm on birth control. Just… please, I need it. Don't make me wait anymore."

That's all you need. Her certainty, her raw need, erases any doubt. But you’re not going to let her off that easy. The teasing isn't over yet. You lean forward, bracing your hands on either side of her head, and lower your body until the tip of your cock is pressed against her. She gasps as the heat of you makes contact with her slick, swollen folds. She is unbelievably wet, her juices from her earlier orgasm making a perfect lubricant.

"So wet for me," you murmur, grinding the head of your cock against her clit. "You want this cock so badly, don't you?"

"Yes! Please, just put it in," she begs, her hands fisted in the bedsheets.

You ignore her plea, continuing the agonizing tease. You slide the head of your cock up and down her slit, gliding through her slickness, letting her feel your thickness, your hardness, but denying her the entry she craves. With every pass, she whimpers, her body straining, trying to force you inside her.

"Look at you," you whisper. "Trying to impale yourself on my cock. You can't wait, can you?"

"I can't," she sobs. "It feels so good… just the tip… please, I need to feel all of it. I need you to stretch me. Fill me up."

"Then you know what you have to do," you say, pausing your movements, holding the head of your cock right at her entrance, a promise and a threat. "Beg for it. Beg me to fuck your tight, wet pussy. Tell me how much you need this cock inside you."

"Please," she cries. "Please fuck me. I'm begging you. I need your cock. I need it inside my pussy right now. Please, I'll be so good for you, just fuck me!"

Her desperate, broken plea is the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. "Good girl," you praise.

And then you give her what she's begged for. You shift your hips, aiming the thick head of your cock at her entrance.

You push.

The feeling is indescribable. You stop, buried deep inside her, and the world just… ceases to exist. There is only this. The sensation is overwhelming, a sensory overload that shorts out every coherent thought in your brain. Her pussy is a revelation. It’s impossibly tight, a velvet clench around your entire length, gripping you with an intimate pressure that’s both demanding and welcoming. It’s slick, her juices coating your cock in a hot, wet sheen that makes every tiny shift an act of pure friction and pleasure. And it’s so, so hot, a deep, internal heat that feels like it’s seeping right into your bones.

Jimin lets out a choked, shuddering gasp, her eyes squeezed shut as her body tries to process the feeling of being so completely and utterly filled like this. Her inner walls pulse and clench around you, an involuntary, welcoming spasm that nearly makes you come right then and there. You have to clench every muscle in your body to hold back.

"Fuck, Jimin..." you groan. "You feel... I don't even have words. You feel so fucking perfect."

"You're so big," she whispers, her voice trembling. Her hands come up to rest on your chest, her fingers pressing into your skin. "You... you fill me up completely. I can feel you all the way inside me."

"I want to feel every inch of you," you say. You begin to move, but not in the hard, fast way you're both craving. Not yet. You pull back, agonizingly slowly, until just the thick head of your cock is inside her. She whimpers, a raw sound of protest at the loss, her hips lifting instinctively to follow you. Then, just as slowly, you push back in, letting her feel the full length of you sliding home once more.

"Oh, god," she moans, her head tossing on the pillows. "That... that feels..."

"I know," you say, continuing the slow, torturous rhythm. In and out. A deep, deliberate friction that is designed to let both of you savor every millimeter of contact. "I want you to feel all of it. Every time I slide into your tight, wet pussy. I want you to remember this feeling forever."

You do this for what feels like an eternity, just fucking her slowly, deeply, letting the tension build to a fever pitch. Her initial awe begins to melt away, replaced by a raw, hungry lust. Her hips are no longer just receiving you; she’s starting to push back, meeting your slow thrusts with an eagerness that makes your blood run hot. She’s ready.

"Okay, baby," you rasp, grabbing her hips firmly, your thumbs digging into the soft flesh above her hipbones. "You wanted this. Now you're going to get it."

You change the rhythm. Your thrusts become hard, deep, and punishing. You slam into her, your cock slapping against her wet folds, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing in the quiet room. You fuck her with a desperate, pent-up energy, each thrust driving you deeper, stretching her, filling her completely.

And she loves it. She cries out with every powerful slam of your hips, her legs wrapping around your waist to pull you even deeper. Her head is thrown back, her neck arched, a long, continuous moan spilling from her parted lips. This is what you’ve both been waiting for.

You watch her as you fuck her, your gaze devouring the sight of her. And her breasts… fuck, her breasts are perfect. With every hard thrust, they bounce, a heavy, hypnotic jiggle that mesmerizes you. They are large and full, their weight made obvious by the way they sway and tremble with the force of your fucking. Her nipples, still hard and puckered from your earlier attention, are a deep, flushed pink, pointing right at you as if in offering.

"Look at them," you pant, your voice strained with effort and lust. "Look at your perfect tits bouncing for me. Every time I fuck you."

She glances down, a dazed, lust-filled smile spreading across her face as she watches the motion. "Fuck..." she breathes. "They're… they're so heavy…"

"I love how they move," you say, never breaking your rhythm. "I want to see them bounce harder."

You increase your pace, pounding into her with a relentless, frantic energy. You’re lost in it now, lost in the feeling of her tight, wet heat, the sight of her beautiful body taking you, the sound of her cries filling the air.

"More!" she screams. "Please, don't stop! Fuck me harder! I need it harder!"

"Like this, baby?" you growl, slamming into her with as much force as you can muster. "You want your pussy fucked like this?"

"Yes! Oh god, yes!" she cries, her nails digging into your back, leaving fiery trails on your skin. "Your cock… it feels so fucking good inside me! It's hitting everything! Please… don't ever stop!"

You are both drenched in sweat, your bodies slick, moving together as one. You lean down, fucking her senseless, and she is taking every inch, begging for more. You press her deeper into the soft mattress, your combined weight creating a perfect hollow of heat and friction. You are buried inside her, a seamless join of wet, hot flesh, and yet you crave more. You need to consume her, to taste her, to feel her surrender in every way possible. You capture her lips, crashing your mouth against hers again. It’s not a tender kiss; it’s a rough, hungry claiming. It’s the kiss of two people who have starved for years and just found a feast.

She kisses you back with an equal, startling fervor. This isn’t a passive acceptance; it’s a demand. Her tongue pushes against yours, her hands leaving your back to tangle in your hair, pulling your mouth harder against hers. You are both lost in it, fucking and kissing, a closed circuit of overwhelming sensation. The deep, rhythmic plunge of your cock into her pussy is punctuated by the wet slap of your mouths, the soft, desperate moans she makes when you deepen the kiss, the guttural groans you can’t hold back when she sucks your tongue into her mouth. It’s filthy, it’s perfect, and it’s driving you both insane.

But it’s still not enough. You break the kiss, leaving her panting and breathless, her lips swollen and glistening. You look down at her, at the magnificent sight of her breasts, flushed and trembling with each powerful thrust of your hips. You need to taste them again. While maintaining the relentless, pounding rhythm of your fucking, you lower your head. Her skin is slick with a fine sheen of sweat, and it tastes salty and sweet as you lick a path from her collarbone down to the valley between her breasts.

"God, you're so beautiful," you rasp, your lips moving against her skin. "So fucking perfect."

You reach the peak of her right breast and take the nipple into your mouth. She screams, a high, sharp sound of pure ecstasy. The dual stimulation; the deep, stretching fullness of your cock filling her pussy while your mouth works its magic on her sensitive nipple: is too much for her nervous system to handle. Her back arches violently off the bed, trying to push herself deeper onto your cock and, somehow, press her breast harder into your mouth at the same time. You suck strongly, laving the hardened peak with your tongue, nipping gently with your teeth. Her moans change, deepening from pleasured cries into long, keening wails.

"Fuck! Oh, fuck, yes!" she gashes. "That… your mouth… while you're… inside me… it's too much! I can't…"

You switch to the other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, refusing to let either feel neglected. You feel the frantic thrumming of her heart against your chest, the way her entire body is trembling on the verge of completely unraveling. You continue to fuck her hard and fast, your hips a relentless engine of pleasure, your mouth a vortex of sensation on her breast. She is being attacked from all sides, besieged by a pleasure so intense it’s a breath away from pain.

"Please," she sobs. "Please, I need to… I need to cum. You have to let me."

You lift your head from her breast, your lips slick, and look her in the eyes. Her gaze is wild, unfocused, pupils blown wide. "You want to cum for me, baby?" you ask, not slowing your pace for a second. You drive into her, hard, and she cries out. "You want to feel my cock deep inside your pussy when you come?"

"Yes! Yes, please, I'm begging you!" she cries, her hips bucking wildly, trying to match your frantic rhythm. "I can't hold on anymore. It's so good… it's too good. Please, make me cum. Fuck me until I cum."

This is it. This is the surrender you crave, the sound you are addicted to. Her begging is the sweetest music you’ve ever heard. You lean in close, your mouth right next to her ear, your hot breath ghosting over her skin. You can feel the fine hairs on her neck stand on end.

"You're so close, aren't you?" you whisper. You feel her shiver violently. "I can feel your pussy clenching around my cock. It's getting tighter. You're about to fall apart for me."

"I am," she whimpers, turning her head, trying to capture your mouth with hers, but you deny her, wanting her to focus on your words, on your cock filling her. "Please… let me. Let me go."

"Then go," you command, grabbing her hips, lifting them slightly to change the angle, driving your cock into a spot deep inside her that makes her see stars. She lets out a sound you’ve never heard before, a raw, animalistic cry of pure sensation. "Let go for me, Jimin. Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my cock. I want to feel your pussy milk me while you scream my name. Cum for me now!"

The command, the raw filth of your words, combined with the relentless, punishing fucking, is what finally does it. You feel the first tremor deep inside her, the unmistakable sign that she's tipping over the edge.

"I'm gonna cum!” she screams, the sound exploding right next to your ear, a hot, vibrating wave of pure ecstasy. "OH FUCK, I’M CUMMING!!”

Her orgasm is a violent, beautiful storm. Her body convulses around you, her inner walls clenching and pulsing on your cock in a frantic, unstoppable rhythm. She throws her head back and screams, a long, ragged sound of pure, untethered release. Her hips slam against you, no longer in rhythm, just wild, spasmodic movements as the pleasure rips through her. You don't stop fucking her; you match her intensity, pounding into her as she comes, driving her deeper into her climax. You feel her hot juices flood her cunt, coating your cock in her release.

After what feels like an eternity, the violent convulsions begin to subside, replaced by deep, shuddering tremors. She collapses back onto the mattress, completely spent, a string of breathless, broken sobs escaping her lips. You slow your thrusts, moving in and out of her gently now, letting her ride the last waves of her pleasure. You pull out slowly, your cock slick and dripping with her essence, and collapse beside her, pulling her sweat-drenched body against yours. You are both trembling, both breathless, both utterly, completely undone.

You hold her, your bodies slick with sweat, tangled together in the rumpled sheets. You can feel the frantic, rabbit-fast beat of her heart starting to slow against your chest, her ragged pants gradually deepening into something more controlled. For a long moment, you just lie there, listening to the sound of your own breathing mingling with hers, feeling the aftershocks of her powerful orgasm tremble through her body. You press a soft kiss to her damp forehead, your thumb gently stroking her back.

After a few minutes, she stirs, letting out a long, contented sigh. She lifts her head from your chest, her hair a wild, beautiful mess, her face flushed and glowing.

"Hey," you whisper. "How are you feeling?"

She looks at you, her eyes still a little dazed, but shining with a bright, clear light. A slow, languid smile spreads across her face. "Great," she pants, the word a soft puff of air. She shifts, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at you. "No, that's… that's not the right word." She shakes her head, as if searching for a better one. "I've never… ever felt that good in my entire life. I feel… obliterated. In the best possible way." She reaches out, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You made me cum so hard. I think my soul left my body for a minute."

"Good. That's what I was going for." You love seeing her like this, so completely sated, so open and unguarded. "So, I guess that answers my next question," you tease, your hand sliding down her back to cup her ass, squeezing gently. "Or do you think you can take any more?"

You expect her to laugh, to say she needs a break, to maybe curl up and fall asleep. But the look in her eye changes.

"More?" she says. She lets out a soft, throaty laugh. "Of course I can."

Before you can react, she moves with a sudden, surprising strength. She grabs your shoulders, pushing you firmly onto your back. You go willingly, sinking into the mattress, intrigued by this sudden shift in energy. She straddles your chest, her knees on either side of your head, and leans down, her face just inches from yours.

"But," she whispers, her hair falling around you like a dark curtain, "it's my turn now."

She pulls you up by your hands, maneuvering you until you're sitting up, then pushes you back down again until you're lying flat on your back in the center of the bed. She crawls over you, her movements fluid and deliberate. She settles over your hips, straddling you, her knees planted firmly on the mattress on either side of your body. The view is breathtaking. You look up at her, at the perfect, heavy swell of her breasts, the soft curve of her stomach, her pink, swollen pussy still slick with her juices.

She reaches down, her fingers wrapping around your still-hard cock. You hiss as her cool fingers touch your hot, sensitive skin. She strokes you slowly, once, twice, watching your reaction, her eyes glittering with newfound power.

"You liked making me beg, didn't you?" she asks. "You liked hearing how much I needed you." She leans down, her lips brushing against yours. "Well, now it's your turn to feel what it's like. To just lie there and take it."

She positions herself, guiding the thick, slick head of your cock to her entrance. You can see the muscles in her thighs tense as she prepares to take you. She lowers herself with agonizing slowness, her eyes locked on yours. You watch her face as she takes you in, her expression a mixture of intense concentration and dawning pleasure. Her lips part, a soft hiss escaping as the head of your cock slides past her wet folds. She sinks down, inch by excruciating inch, her tight, hot pussy swallowing you whole.

The feeling of her taking you, of her being in complete control, is a whole new kind of ecstasy. When she has taken your entire length, she sits still for a moment, letting you both get used to the feeling of being joined again in this new configuration.

Then, she begins to move. It’s not the hard, frantic fucking from before. This is different. This is pure, sensual control. She starts with a slow, deep grind, her hips rolling in a lazy, circular motion. You groan, your hands coming up to grip her hips, but she just smiles, placing her hands on top of yours, stilling them. "No," she whispers. "My turn, remember? Just lie back and enjoy the ride."

She moves with an innate, hypnotic rhythm, her hips swaying, rotating, grinding your cock against all of her most sensitive inner walls. You can do nothing but lie there, completely at her mercy, as she plays your body like an instrument. She leans forward, bracing her hands on your chest, her breasts dangling just inches from your face. She picks up the pace slightly, her slow grinds transitioning into a steady, sensual bounce. She rises up on your shaft, then sinks back down, her movements fluid and graceful. With every downward slide, she lets out a soft, contented sigh, her head falling back, her eyes closing in bliss. This is Jimin in her element, a performer, a dancer, and right now, you are her stage, and she is giving the performance of a lifetime, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles, grinding your cock against her deepest, most sensitive walls.

Each rotation sends a wave of exquisite friction through you, a pleasure so profound it’s almost agonizing. You can do nothing but lie there, a willing captive to her rhythm, your hands gripping the sheets at your sides to keep from grabbing her, from disrupting the perfect, hypnotic control she has established. Her head is thrown back, her eyes closed, a single, continuous, breathy moan spilling from her lips. She is completely lost in the sensation of filling herself with you, of being in total command.

It is, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing you have ever witnessed. The soft light from the window traces the elegant curve of her spine, the subtle flex of the muscles in her back and stomach as she moves. Her breasts, full and heavy, sway with each languid motion, their own mesmerizing dance. You watch, transfixed, as she smiles, a slow, secret smile of pure, selfish pleasure.

You can’t resist any longer. Your hands leave the sheets and come up to her, not to her hips to control her, but to her breasts. You cup their weight, your thumbs finding her still-puckered nipples. Her flesh is soft and warm, yielding to your touch. You squeeze gently, and her eyes fly open, locking with yours. Her moan deepens, becoming a throaty, guttural sound, and her hips grind down on you harder, a clear, unmistakable response. She likes it. She likes you touching her, worshiping her, even as she controls the fucking.

You continue to knead her breasts gently as she rides you, your thumbs flicking over her nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through her that you can feel in the way her pussy clenches around your cock. The combination of watching her, touching her, and feeling her move on you is an intoxicating cocktail of sensations.

She leans forward, bracing her hands on your chest, bringing her face close to yours. Her eyes are dark, swirling with a mixture of lust, power, and something else, something playful.

"Have you ever," she whispers as she continues her slow, steady bounce on your cock, "imagined this? Fucking a K-Pop idol? Having Karina from Aespa ride your dick like this?"

You let out a shaky laugh, the sound half disbelief, half pure awe. "Never," you say. "Not in my wildest, most fucked-up dreams, Jimin. I never thought I'd even speak to you again, let alone… this." You gesture vaguely to the impossible reality of your bodies being joined. "This is… beyond anything I could have ever imagined." You reach up, your hand leaving her breast to cup her cheek. "You are so unbelievably beautiful right now. On top of me. Taking my cock. I can't… I can't even process how beautiful you are."

She leans into your touch, her hips never ceasing their hypnotic, sensual movement.

"I think…" she says, so soft you have to strain to hear it over the wet sounds of your fucking. "I think this is where I belong." She searches your eyes, a desperate need for validation in her gaze. "On your cock. Like this. It feels… right."

"You do," you say. "You're right. This is exactly where you belong, Jimin. You're mine."

Your words are the final permission she needs. It’s as if you’ve unlocked the last cage, unleashing the wild, untamed creature she keeps hidden from the world. The shift is instantaneous. The slow, sensual grind vanishes. She picks up the pace, her hips slamming down on your cock with a force that drives you deep into the mattress. She starts riding you with a frantic, desperate energy, no longer teasing or exploring, but fucking. She is fucking you with everything she has.

Her hair whips around her face, her body is drenched in sweat, and a stream of filthy, broken moans pours from her lips. She moves with a startling, intuitive skill, her hips tilting, rotating, grinding in a way that she knows, that her body inherently understands, will maximize your pleasure. She’s hitting hard with every downward slam, dragging the head of your cock along all the right walls. Her breasts are no longer swaying gently; they are bouncing wildly, a beautiful, chaotic jiggle that mirrors the abandoned rhythm of her hips. You are completely at her mercy, pinned beneath her, as she rides you with a single-minded goal: to drive you absolutely insane.

"Fuck, you're so hot," she pants. "Your body… I can't believe this is real. I can't believe I'm actually doing this, that I'm riding you." She shakes her head, a look of genuine, wondrous disbelief on her face. "I feel like I'm going to wake up."

You want to anchor her to this reality, to prove to her that this is not a dream. You lift your hands from her tits and reach for hers, the one still braced on your chest and the other tangled in the sheets beside you. You capture them, your fingers intertwining with hers, your grip firm and steady. She gasps, her eyes locking with yours. You squeeze her hands, a silent message passing between you. I'm real. This is real. We are real.

The gesture works. A new wave of confidence washes over her, the last vestiges of her disbelief burned away by the simple, grounding touch of your hands locked with hers. A fierce, determined look enters her eyes. She picks up the pace again, her bounces becoming higher, harder, each downward slam of her hips punctuated by a shared grunt of effort and pleasure. You can feel the tension coiling in your own body, the familiar pressure building deep in your balls. You’re getting close, and she can feel it too. The way your hips have started to buck up to meet her thrusts, the way your breath is catching in your throat—she knows.

She leans down, her face close to yours, her expression a perfect mixture of seductive confidence and genuine curiosity. "You're close, aren't you?" she asks. "I can feel you twitching inside me. You're going to come for me soon." She grinds her hips down, a slow, deliberate circle that makes you groan her name. "Tell me where you want it. Where do you want to cum?"

The question is so direct, so filthy, so utterly her in this new, empowered state, that a raw laugh escapes you. "Guess," you manage to rasp.

A wicked, knowing giggle bubbles from her lips. She doesn't even have to think about it. "On my breasts," she says immediately, full of certainty. "You want to cover my tits with your cum, don't you?"

"Is it that obvious?" you ask, your hips thrusting up involuntarily.

"A little," she teases, a wide, beautiful smile lighting up her face. "You're such a pervert."

"Can you blame me?" you groan, your gaze dropping to her magnificent, bouncing breasts. "They're perfect. I've been thinking about doing this since the moment you took off your sweater."

"I know," she says, and the way she says it, so full of pride and satisfaction, makes your cock throb inside her. "They're all yours." She leans in again. "But you have to make a good mess. I want you to cover them completely. Get them all sticky and hot with your cum. Promise me."

"Fuck, Jimin," you gasp, your body trembling. "Don't say things like that unless you mean it."

"Oh, I mean it," she says, her hips beginning to move in a final, frantic assault. She’s bouncing on your cock with a wild, desperate energy, trying to wring every last drop of pleasure from you. "I want it all. I want you to empty your balls for me. Cum for me, baby. Come on my tits now!"

"I'm going to!" you shout, the words ripped from you. "Karina, I'm going to cum!"

Without a word, she breaks the connection, sliding her body off your cock with a wet, sucking sound that echoes the hollowness you now feel. Before you can even question it, she moves with a dancer's deliberate grace, crawling to the edge of the bed and sinking to her knees on the soft rug below. She looks up at you from the floor.

You follow her lead, your mind reeling, your body acting on pure instinct. You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand before her. The world has tilted on its axis. The sight of Jimin, your childhood best friend, Karina, a global icon, the woman whose face adorns billboards and magazines, kneeling at your feet is so surreal, so intensely erotic, it feels like a fever dream. Her hair is a tangled mess around her shoulders, her face is flushed with exertion, her lips are swollen and parted, and her eyes… her eyes are fixed on your cock with a look of devotional worship.

She is waiting.

You take your cock in your hand, the skin slick with her juices and your own precum. The head is swollen, twitching with need. You start stroking yourself, a slow, steady rhythm, your gaze locked with hers. You want her to watch. You want to see her expression as you bring yourself to the edge for her.

Your hand moves on your cock, a slick, frantic motion, but it's almost unnecessary. Her gaze, her posture, her very existence in this moment is all the stimulation you need. She squeezes her breasts together, pushing them up, the pale, heavy flesh forming a perfect canvas, a perfect target. The nipples are hard, dark points in the soft mounds, practically begging to be decorated.

"Please," she whimpers. "Look at them. They're waiting for you. I want to feel your hot cum all over them. I need it. Please, baby, give it to me. Drench me." She shifts on her knees, her eyes wide and pleading. "I want to be your good, filthy whore. I want you to paint my tits."

Her words are a lit match to a barrel of gasoline. A deep, primal roar tears itself from your throat, a sound of pure, untethered release. Your hips snap forward, your eyes roll back into your head, and the world dissolves into a blinding, white-hot flash of sensation.

"Fuck! Jimin!" you scream as the first torrent of your orgasm erupts from the tip of your cock.

It's a powerful, shockingly thick shot that arcs through the air with surprising force, splattering directly in the center of her chest, in the deep valley created by her hands squeezing her breasts together. A thick, pearlescent glob lands with an audible smack against her hot skin.

She gasps, a sharp, shuddering intake of breath, her whole body jolting as if you’d touched her with a live wire. "Yes!" she cries out, her eyes fluttering shut. "Oh god, it's so hot... so warm..."

But you're just getting started. Your body is a machine now, completely outside of your conscious control. You grip your cock, your knuckles white, and with another guttural groan, a second, then a third powerful spurt are unleashed. These ones are ropes, thick and heavy, that land higher, one splattering across her right breast, covering the dark, puckered areola completely, the other hitting her delicate collarbone and starting to drip slowly down her neck.

"More!" she pants, her eyes still closed, lost in the sensation of being covered by you. "Give me all of it! Don't hold back!"

You obey her command, your hips continuing their involuntary bucking motion. Spurt after spurt flies from you, a relentless, massive load that you didn't even know you were holding. You paint her with your release, a chaotic, beautiful masterpiece of pure lust. A thick shot coats her left breast, another lands on her shoulder. You see a long, thick strand connect from your cock to her chin for a split second before it falls, adding to the growing mess on her chest. She is taking it all, not flinching, not shying away, only sighing and shivering as each hot, wet impact makes contact with her skin.

Even as the initial, powerful torrents begin to subside, you don't stop. You wrap your hand firmly around the base of your shaft and start to stroke, determined to give her everything. "Every last drop is for you, Jimin," you manage to gasp out. You milk your cock, forcing out the last, thickest globs of your semen, adding them to the already considerable mess. Your cum is everywhere. It’s pooled in the hollow of her throat, it’s dripping in thick, slow trails between and under her breasts, it has completely coated her chest and neck in a sticky, glistening layer.

Finally, your orgasm spends itself completely. You sway on your feet, your knees weak, your body utterly drained. You stare down at the scene, your breathing coming in ragged, harsh pants.

Karina stays kneeling for a long moment, her chest rising and falling heavily beneath the cooling, sticky evidence of your pleasure. Then, slowly, she opens her eyes. She looks down at herself, a look of pure, unadulterated awe on her face.

"Wow," she whispers. She looks up at you, her eyes shining. "Look what you did to me. You came so much."

Then, she does something that makes your already overloaded brain short-circuit again. She dips the index finger of her right hand into the thickest pool of your cum between her breasts. She lifts it, watching the thick, white strand stretch and then snap. A slow, mischievous smile spreads across her face. She uses her finger to swirl the cum around, drawing lazy circles and patterns on her own skin.

"It's so sticky," she says with a giggle, completely devoid of shame, full of nothing but a raw, playful joy. She dips the fingers of her other hand in, spreading the mess further, connecting the splatters, ensuring every inch of her chest and the full, heavy curves of her breasts are coated in a uniform, glistening layer of you. "Am I pretty like this?" she asks, looking up at you through her lashes, her face a picture of filthy innocence. "All covered in your hot cum?"

You can only nod, completely speechless.

She sees your state and her smile widens. She leans forward, takes the now-sensitive, post-orgasm head of your cock into her mouth, and gently, reverently, sucks you clean. Her tongue is soft and methodical, a soothing, incredible sensation that makes your knees threaten to buckle.

When she's done, she pulls back and looks up at you again, her own masterpiece complete. "All clean," she says softly. She gestures down at her chest. "All of it is on me now. Just like I wanted."

You finally find your voice. "You're… perfect," you say. "Absolutely fucking perfect."

You sink to your knees in front of her, your strength completely gone. You cup her face, your thumbs wiping away a stray drip of your own cum from her chin. You look at her, this incredible woman, your childhood friend, your idol, your lover, covered in your filth at her own request. And then you kiss her, a deep, soul-searing kiss that tastes of salt, and sweat, and sex.

—

You crack an eye open, the morning light filtering through a gap in Jimin’s bedroom curtains, painting stripes across the far wall. The space beside you in the massive bed is empty, though the sheets are still rumpled, still faintly radiating her warmth and her unique, intoxicating scent. You’re sprawled on your stomach, clad only in your boxer briefs. You push yourself up, wincing slightly as your muscles protest, and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

The apartment is quiet, save for the distant, comforting clatter of something in the kitchen. Coffee. The thought alone is enough to make you move. You pad out of the bedroom, your bare feet silent on the cool wooden floor, still feeling the pleasant, lingering ache in your groin, a happy souvenir from the night’s activities.

And there she is.

Jimin is standing at the kitchen counter, her back to you, humming softly to herself as she expertly works her fancy espresso machine. And she’s wearing your shirt. Your button-down from last night, the one you’d discarded so carelessly on her bedroom floor. It’s ridiculously oversized on her frame, the sleeves rolled up multiple times, the hem falling to her mid-thighs, offering tantalizing glimpses of her long, pale legs. Her hair is piled on top of her head in another one of those effortlessly perfect messy buns, a few errant strands escaping to kiss the nape of her neck.

It’s such an incredibly domestic scene, but the irony isn't lost on you: one minute she’s a K-pop idol, the next she’s your childhood crush confessing feelings, then she’s a screaming, cum-covered goddess, and now… now she’s just Jimin, making coffee in your shirt in her sun-drenched kitchen. Your head is still trying to catch up with the whiplash.

You lean against the doorframe just watching her for a moment. She moves with an easy grace, even when she’s just reaching for a mug, a quiet confidence in her posture that wasn’t there when you first reconnected. She turns then, two steaming mugs in her hands, and her own smile, soft and a little shy, blooms when she sees you.

"Oh, good morning," a slight blush creeps up her cheeks, but her eyes are warm. "I wasn’t sure when you’d surface. Or if you’d even remember where you were."

"Morning," you reply, your own speech still a little rough from sleep. You push off the doorframe and walk towards her, your gaze lingering on the way your shirt drapes over her. "And trust me, last night is pretty… unforgettable. Slept like a fucking log, though. Best sleep I’ve had in ages."

"Me too," she admits, her blush deepening slightly as she hands you one of the mugs. The rich, dark aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills your senses, a welcome antidote to the lingering haze of your hangover. "Black, two sugars, right? Or has your sophisticated palate evolved since our high school instant coffee days?"

You chuckle, taking a grateful sip. Perfect. "Still remember, huh? Impressive. And no, some things are sacred. This is… this is exactly what I needed." You take another long, appreciative gulp. "So, are you feeling the after-effects of that wine as much as I am?" you ask, gesturing vaguely to your head. "My skull feels like it's been crushed by a baseball bat."

She laughs, a light, airy sound. "Tell me about it. Definitely a two-aspirin, one-gallon-of-water kind of morning for me too." She sips her own coffee, her eyes meeting yours over the rim of the mug, a comfortable, knowing silence settling between you for a moment. "So," she begins, her gaze dropping to her mug for a second before returning to yours, a hint of that earlier vulnerability creeping back in. "Last night… that was… " She trails off, searching for the words.

"Amazing," you supply, your own words soft but firm, leaving no room for doubt. "It was fucking amazing, Jimin. All of it."

A relieved, almost dazzling smile breaks across her face. "Yeah," she breathes, her shoulders relaxing visibly. "Yeah, it really, really was." She takes another sip of coffee, then, almost as if she can’t help herself, she adds, "You… you really know how to make a girl feel good. Like, really good."

"Just returning the favor," you say, a teasing glint in your eyes. "You weren't exactly holding back yourself." The memory of her, riding you with such wild abandon, her cries echoing in the room, makes a heat rise through your body, making your cock give a responsive throb in your boxers. You discreetly shift your weight. This domestic morning-after scene is lovely, but your body clearly hasn't forgotten the main event.

A comfortable lull settles as you both sip your coffee, the shared memories of the night before a warm, unspoken presence. But then, you see a flicker of something in Jimin’s eyes, a subtle shift in her expression. She sets her mug down on the counter, her fingers tracing the rim. The tension, which had dissipated, slowly begins to creep back into the room. Here it comes. The inevitable "what now?"

"So…" she begins, her gaze fixed on her coffee cup, her words careful, almost tentative. "What… what happens now? With us?" She finally looks up at you, her eyes wide and searching. "Was last night just… you know… a one-time thing? Because of the wine, and the confessions, and… everything?"

You set your own mug down, your heart giving a familiar, uncomfortable thump.

This is it. The moment of truth.

"A one-time thing?" you repeat. You let out a short, humorless chuckle, running a hand through your already messy hair. "Jimin, after last night… after you… do you honestly think I could just… walk away from that? Pretend it didn't happen?" You meet her gaze, your own expression deadly serious now. "I really, really like you. More than like you, if I’m being completely honest. And… and I don’t think I can be the same around you anymore. Not after yesterday." You take a deep breath. "I think… fuck, I know… I need you. Like it’s oxygen. And that terrifies the absolute shit out of me, but it’s the goddamn truth."

The silence that follows is deafening. For a heart-stopping moment, you think you’ve said too much, gone too far, laid yourself too bare.

Then, slowly, miraculously, a smile begins to spread across her face. It’s not just any smile. It’s a Jimin-smile, a radiant, all-encompassing beam of pure, unadulterated happiness that lights up her entire being, that chases away every last shadow of doubt and fear in the room. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Without a word, she pushes herself off the counter, closes the small distance between you in two quick steps, and then her arms are around your neck, her body pressing against yours, and she’s kissing you. It’s a kiss that tastes of coffee, and relief. It’s a kiss that seals the deal, a kiss that says everything you both needed to hear. And as you kiss her back, your own arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, feeling the soft warmth of her body clad only in your shirt against your bare chest, You suddenly remember that Jimin, your Jimin, is no longer just yours, is no longer just Jimin, your dork childhood friend.

You pull back slightly, your gaze searching hers. "Jimin," you begin, "this is… this is incredible. You’re incredible. Last night was… beyond anything." Her smile softens, her eyes shining with affection, but you press on. "But… what the hell do we do now? I meant what I said, about needing you, about all of it. But us… like this…" You gesture vaguely between the two of you, encompassing the intimacy, the secret now hanging palpably in the air of her sunlit kitchen. "You know what your life is like. The spotlight, the fans, the company… SM isn’t exactly known for its progressive stance on its idols having, well, this." Your irony here is bitter, a defense mechanism against the very real fear clenching your heart. "This could be… dangerous for you. For your career. I don’t want to be the one who…"

Jimin’s fingers gently press against your lips, silencing you. Her expression is soft, understanding, but there’s a new firmness there too, a resolute calm that wasn’t present during her earlier, more vulnerable moments.

"Shhh," she murmurs, her thumb brushing your lower lip. "Don't. Don't do that. Don't spiral." She leans in, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to your mouth, then another to your cheek, then your forehead. Her touch is like a balm, soothing the sharp edges of your anxiety. "I know all of that. Believe me, I live it every single day. But right now," she continues, her eyes holding yours, clear and unwavering, "right now, I don’t want to think about any of it. Not SM, not the fans, not the potential fallout. Not yet."

She pulls back just enough to look you squarely in the eyes, her hands now resting on your shoulders. "What happened last night, what’s happening right now," she says, "this is real. And it’s ours." Her lips curve into a small, almost conspiratorial smile. "No one needs to know about this. Not now, anyway. It’ll be our secret, okay? Just for us."

Her words, her confidence, the delicious, illicit thrill of a shared secret with her: it’s an intoxicating, dangerous combination.

"Our secret, huh?" you echo, an eyebrow quirking upwards. "You know, that’s… that’s actually kind of fucking sexy, Jimin. The danger of it all… it’s a little exciting, isn't it?" You can't help the way your own words deepen, the way your gaze drops to her lips.

She lets out a delighted, throaty chuckle. "See? I knew you’d get it." She leans in again, her lips brushing yours, a silent promise of more to come. "Danger is always more exciting." Her breath is warm against your skin, her proximity reigniting the embers of last night’s events.

Between feather-light kisses that dance along your jawline, your neck, she murmurs, "But, speaking of not wanting things to get… complicated… or, you know, result in tiny, K-pop-superstar-related accidents…" She pulls back slightly, her expression turning a little more practical, though the sultry glint in her eyes remains. "I think it might be a very, very good idea for you to acquire some condoms. Like, a lot of them. A truly impressive, perhaps even alarming, quantity." A playful smirk dances on her lips. "We can’t exactly keep pushing our luck like last night, as… memorable as it was."

"Duly noted. I’ll arrange for a strategic acquisition of latex-based defenses. Consider me on a mission."

"Good," she purrs, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your mouth. Then, her hand, which had been resting on your shoulder, slides down your chest, a slow, deliberate trail of fire, down, down, until it reaches the front of your boxer briefs. Her fingers close around your already-hardening cock, her touch light but possessive, sending a jolt straight through you. You gasp, your hips giving an involuntary twitch.

She looks up at you through her lashes, her smile turning wicked, utterly predatory. "Because," she whispers, her breath hot against your lips, her fingers giving you a slow, deliberate squeeze that makes your knees weak, "while we wait for those… reinforcements… there is something I can do for you right now. Something that definitely doesn't require a condom."

And with a final, devastatingly innocent flutter of her eyelashes, she slides from your embrace, her hand never leaving your groin, and slowly, gracefully, sinks to her knees on the kitchen floor in front of you. The morning, it seems, is far from over.

In fact, this is just the beginning.

[kkuraissante]

✧ ultimate bias ✧

In which y/n is a big fan of Sakura (ft. aespa!y/n)

[y/n confessing her love for Sakura during an interview]

“so, y/n who is your celebrity crush?” the radio host in front of her asked. 

hearing the question, the rest of her members looked at each other, sharing a knowing glance. “huh, well… I think some of the fans may noticed it based on my phone wallpaper, but my celebrity crush is sakura from le sserafim.” y/n admitted shyly, lightly scratching the back of her head.

“I actually became her fans during pd 48 and have been her fans ever since. You don’t know how happy I was when I heard that she will debut again into a new girl group after the disbandment. I cried so hard after watching the intro videos,” y/n confessed. 

karina laughed after hearing her comments, “yeah, you wouldn’t believe how crazy she is for sakura. she collected albums and merch, basically a hardcore fan”.

“no, but do you guys remember how she sneaked out of the dorm during our free time to attend izone fansign? It was legendary. She talked our ears off about sakura that day” giselle added, groaning at the memories. 

the host and members laughed hearing the remarks. 

“well, I mean, who could blame me, she was perfect. a literal angel.” y/n tried to defend herself. “hopefully I will be able to go to her fansign again” y/n sighed happily at the thought. 

“you heard it guys, you need to steal y/n heart from sakura” the host joked.

[y/n’s room tour during her vlog]

“hi guys, today I will be showing you my room” y/n waved at the camera, standing outside her bedroom door. 

“so, here is the entrance. this is a custom-made sign that I bought on the internet and essentials to keep my sanity,” y/n gestured to a red sign that read ‘yoo jimin do not enter unless permitted’ in the middle of the door.

opening the door, y/n waved her hand excitedly for the camera, “welcome to my sanctuary.”

“first thing first, this is my closet, it’s a little messy since we’ve been busy these past few weeks, but its usually not this bad, I promise!” y/n said seriously, raising her pinky finger up.

“here is my desk, with my gaming setup. I’ve been playing valorant and lol whenever I’m free. over there is my keyboard and guitar wall. the black guitar is a gift from jimin unnie and the white one is from taeyeon unnie. this is actually my first guitar that I bought with my money” y/n showed everything before raising a red fender Stratocaster, showing it proudly. 

“moving on, this side is the bed. it looks comfy right?” y/n shoot the bed before raising the camera upwards, showing the hanging shelf, filled with albums, mainly her senior and izone albums. “and here is my album collection. most of these are gifts from sunbaenim during promotion and the only albums that I bought myself are the izones one” y/n smiled proudly at the camera. 

“look, this one is signed by all members” she showed the bloom*iz album. “Sakura was so pretty during this era,”

“and this is my photocards collection” y/n opened a photo album. “it’s mostly Sakura but I have other people too. this one is my favorite,” y/n raised sakura perfect night pc, “she look so cute with the glasses right?  oh!  I also want to flex a little, are you curious? this is not sakura, but I really like it” y/n show off a chaewon photocard. “ I think this is one of the rare photocard and are sold very expensive, so i’m really happy that i have it. also, chaewon-ssi looks so pretty here"

“so, that’s all for my vlog. thank you for watching the video. I love you MY’s, byee” y/n blowed a kiss at the camera before the vlog ended. 

[karinanana]: y/n is literally one of us

[y/n_wife]: I never expect that I will finally see an idol that collect photocards

[fimmily222]: y/n is the biggest sakura stan. we have an idol piona!!

[amboya.amboya]: I know the rest of her members are tired hearing her fangirling over sakura. look how much she rambled about her throughout the vlog. 

[thirstyfory/n]: the rare chaewon pc is killing me

[y/n showing her things during live]

“hi! Welcome to my weverse live!” y/n grins at the camera in front of her before reading the comments on her phone. 

“unnie, what items has you bought recently?” y/n read out loud. she scratched her chin before standing up abruptly, “wait a moment guys, let me pick some stuff up” she apologized, moving out of the frame, towards her bedroom. after 5 minutes she came back, holding a bunch of stuff on her arms.

“sorry for the wait but I’m back! let me review all the things that I bought recently” 

“first thing! its a t shirt” y/n raised a white t shirt, “it’s very cute right? i bought it in Japan during one of our schedules”

“this hoodie is also bought in Japan” y/n raised a black chrome hearts hoodie, “now I have a matching hoodie with Sakura” she blushed slightly at the thought.

remembering that its live, she tried to change the subject, quickly picking up the next item which is a headphone accessory. “oh, I bought it because it look cool, like, why does sakura always wear the coolest stuff” y/n whined at the camera. “she’s just so perfect”

“and the last thing is this” y/n raised a big basket filled with knitting yarn and needles. “I’ve noticed that sakura has been knitting a lot recently and I want to also try it. maybe trying to give her a handmade beanie if i succeed later”

“this is the first thing that I make” y/n picked up what looks like a knitted leaf. “it’s for headphones, but I think I screwed it to the point its unrecognizable, it’s way too crooked and ugly. minjeong teased me the other day saying that a year old could do it better than me” y/n pouted, remembering the teasing that she has to endure from her members that day.

“let’s move from my bad knitting projects…”

[sohyxn]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀LOVE ADVICE

01.⠀love expert!?⠀;⠀in which y/n help her desk mate, kim minjeong with some love advice.

the fluorescent lights of the classroom buzz overhead, casting a sterile glow over the rows of desks.

you, with your nose buried in a textbook, are trying to decipher the complexities of quadratic equations. math isn’t exactly your favorite subject, but you’re determined to ace the upcoming test.

“yn!”

what now? you grimace internally.

“hey, yn!”

“earth to yn!” a bright, bubbly voice breaks through your concentration.

you look up to see kim minjeong, your desk mate, waving her hand in front of your face.

minjeong, with her infectious smile and playful energy, is the epitome of sunshine.

when you first sat down next to her in class, you thought she was just another bubbly desk mate. her laughter was loud, and her bright personality seemed to fill the entire room.

you had no interest in befriending her ; after all, you were focused on your studies and avoiding any distractions.

but as the days turned into weeks, somehow you found yourself drawn into her orbit just like everyone else does.

“what’s up, minjeong?” you ask, a tight smile gracing your lips, clearly annoyed.

“I need your advice,” minjeong says, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “you’re the love expert, right?”

you chuckle. “sorry, what? I’m nowhere near a love expert. where did you hear that from?”

“oh, come on! yunjin told me you helped her with zuha!” minjeong claims.

“well, i wouldn’t call myself a love expert, but i'm a good listener, i guess.”

“okay, so you know karina, right?” minjeong asks, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.

you nod, your mind still focused on the quadratic equation you’re trying to solve.

yoo jimin or everyone knows as karina is the captain of the cheerleading squad, with striking beauty, impeccable style, and unmatched charisma. students whisper her name in awe, and her presence commands attention wherever she goes. so it's practically impossible to have not heard about the campus goddess.

“so I want to ask her out,” minjeong continues.

yeah no shit sherlock.

“and I want to make her fall in love with me,” she adds, her voice laced with determination. “but I’m not sure how to do it.”

you hum, trying to focus. “how about starting a conversation with her? you know, some small talk — ask about her day, her well-being, and give some compliments here and there. girls usually love those.”

your mind drifts back to the math problems.

“arghh, that’s so hard!” minjeong groans. “what if I wrote her a note instead?”

your interest piques. “a love note? that could work. just keep it light and fun.”

"right! I could do something cute—like, ‘hey, i think you’re amazing, and I’d love to grab coffee sometime!’” minjeong’s eyes light up with excitement.

“exactly! just make sure it sounds like you,” you encourage, feeling a sense of pride for her creativity.

minjeong scribbles down her thoughts on the crumpled paper, her brows furrowed in concentration. “what if she doesn’t like notes? what if it’s too cheesy?”

“then just be yourself! If she doesn’t appreciate your style, she’s not worth it,” you say, trying to bolster her confidence.

“okay, okay! I’ll do it!” minjeong beams, determination flooding her voice.

as she folds the note carefully, your heart flutters. you can’t help but feel excited for her.

“thanks, yn! you’re the best! i will pay for your lunch!!” minjeong says, her energy infectious.

you smile, but inside, you know your life is going to be harder than usual.

🏷️⠀──⠀@gayforalll @ringelar @wintersgff @kiazell @sixflame438 @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[oceanbug]

when worlds collide

smau non!idol ningning x reader

24. clarity.

•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•

“Yujin, what the fuck?"

Yujin stared down at her feet in embarrassment and fear. She tensed up in preparation for the cruel words that were bound to be spewed at her.

Jimin looked fuming. Her face was bright pink, and she looked as if she were about to explode. Whether it be from anger or tears, no one could really tell. She opened her mouth and let out a chocked-up

“How could you? What’s wrong with-“

But before Jimin could finish her sentence, Y/N cut her off.

“You came up with this elaborate plan because you thought we would just abandon you?" You had tried your hardest to hold back tears, but couldn’t stop them from flowing. It was hard to wrap your head around. How could you ever possibly abandon your best friend? Just for some girl? Granted, that ‘girl’ was the beautiful, talented, and kind Yoo Jimin. Still, throwing away years of friendship seemed out of the question for you.

Yujin’s eyes shifted around. She was nervous. The three of you never sat down and had a serious conversation. It always felt like the wrong time to bring up something so serious, like it would kill the fun mood.

“I guess, yeah? You seriously don’t think you would’ve still needed me, would you? From the moment you locked eyes with Jimin, you never stopped talking about her. It was all you talked about.” Yujin let out a sigh, cringing at those past memories.

“That’s not true. What about the amusement park we went to in 10th grade? Jimin caught a fever and couldn’t go, so we went together."

“Yeah, we did. Except we couldn’t go on any rides because you were so focused on winning Jimin a giant panda plushie that by the time you won it, the park closed. You took three hours.”

“Oh… Well, what about when we volunteered to paint the school mural in 9th grade? We had fun drawing dicks on it in secret!”

“I drew them. While you gawked at Jimin playing volleyball next door, If I remember correctly, you only volunteered so that your mom wouldn’t freak out about you staying after school. And 'Watching Jimin practice' wasn’t a good enough excuse, so you dragged me into volunteering.”

“Of course, I needed an excuse to stay late; we couldn’t let Jimin walk home alone after practice."

Jimin turned to you and cocked her head to the side.

“Y/n, my dad always picked me up from school? Until I get my license?”

You paused for a second and felt your face getting hot. This whole time, you convinced yourself that you stayed late for Jimin. In reality, were you just staying late because of Jimin?

"Just face it, Y/N, our whole friendship was the Jimin show.” Yujin’s words sounded tired. It was as if she had relayed this message to herself constantly. She always knew this in her heart, and it always hurt her. Jimin’s previous anger had subsided. It was replaced with confusion. Confusion about her feelings toward Jimin. And the situation at hand.

The room was silent.

Until you began to break down. You sobbed, sitting on your dorm room sofa. Sitting around with the two people you thought meant the world to you They were your everything, and yet you had hurt them. All three of you were hurting.

Is high school supposed to be fun? The best years of your life. Yet, all three of you felt nothing but fear, pain, and anxiety. And they never felt comfortable enough to express it to each other. Is this really friendship?

You felt Jimin scoot closer to you on your right side, while Yujin got up and sat next to you on your left. They hugged you as you let out your emotions. Each one of you did.

"I got into Yale.” Both you and Yujin whipped your heads to look at Jimin.

Jimin was always a hard worker in high school, so it came to everyone’s shock when she decided to go to an in-state university. Jimin always seemed to have a bright future ahead of her. Like she could accomplish the biggest things. Everyone always expected her to go off to a big, expensive school and do something amazing with her life.

“Senior year, I got in. It was even a full ride. But I turned it down. I couldn’t think about leaving the two of you. I know everyone wanted me to do something special in life, but I couldn’t imagine doing it without the two of you. I always feel pressured, all around me. Everyone expects me to be perfect. But when I’m with the two of you, I can take a break. I can be a teenager. I can be me.”

“We would’ve moved with you!” You exclaimed, while Yujin nodded her head.

“Most definitely.”

“We could’ve gone to school in Connecticut.”

“Def not Yale, but something close.”

“Probably would’ve preferred it than you locking lips with Ning.” Yujin added. Jimin chuckled slightly and looked off to the side. Feeling embarrassed by how her one act of 'rebellion' led to disaster.

“But, Jimin, no matter what you do, we’ll always support you.” You went to her other side and gave her a tight squeeze, while Yujin stayed on the right and embraced her as well.

It seemed like everyone was venting tonight. pent-up emotions the three of you have faced for years.

“Now would’ve been a perfect time to confess my love for you, huh?” You laughed, looking at your lifelong crush.

“Nah, the rejection would’ve killed the mood.” Jimin pushed you slightly and chuckled. It felt good to joke and tease about these things.

Yujin laughed along with you two but abruptly stopped. She hung her head low again.

“Man, I really screwed things up with us, huh?"

You exchanged a glance with Jimin, both of you having a similar thought. You turned to Yujin and held her hand.

"Yeah, you did.”

“Incredibly so.” Added in Jimin.

"But it’s okay. Apparently, so did all of us. So it cancels out, right?”

Yujin perked her head up and let out a small smile.

“Yeah, that’s how math works! I learned it in geometry!”

“You slept every class?”

“Blah blah, numbers, shapes!” Yujin rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. All of you could do it and laugh. Just like old times. Just like your trio always did.

“So… Can I move back in?” Yujin asked.

“No.” Jimin turned to you, confused. It seemed like everything was working out. Why the sudden decision on your end?

“How else are we getting insider information on the bitch Wonyoung?” It was clear who common enemy number 1 was. And it was time to take her down.

“You’ve got a plan, Y/N?”

“You know it!”

“Ha, yeah! Operation Take Down Bitchyoung is a go!” Yujin got up and cheered.

“You still messed up, Yujin, so we expect a lot of help on your end.”

Her cheers became slightly softer, but Yujin was still glad to be part of your life again.

Before you could grab your phone and let everyone know you finished the conversation, Jimin tackled you all onto the sofa and embraced you both.

“I love you guys.”

No matter what happened, You always had each other. It was obvious now. It’ll take some time before everything returns to its old ways. Or maybe it never will. All that matters is that you know you can count on each other, no matter what.

•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈

masterlist ~ next

(Synopsis) Y/N had never been the type to take life for granted. You grew up with the mindset that if you wanted something, you had to work for it; So getting paired up with the university’s “Rich Bitch” Ning Yi Zhuo for your midterm was the last thing you wanted. Are you willing to step into the world of fame for an A+?

taglist(open): @azraism; @kimsgayness; @sewiouslyz; @winieter ; @llluvbluy ; @i06kkura; @everydayiloveyves ; @edamboon ; @rdfgfv ; @beawolfbealionbeyou; @manooffline; @captivq

[chunghasweetie]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 | P.JM 2

— pairing | femceo!oc x ceo!pjm

— summary | yoo jangmi (oc aka you) is a highly successful independent ceo of YooMi Beauty, one of the most popular beauty brands of the century. jamgi’s rival company Park Enterprises owned by the even more famous park jimin. her and park jimin were enemies from the start. (but after each argument he’s lowk hard lol and he has a lil crush on her). only thing that’s stopping jimin from making a move on her is her boyfriend, minhyuk. but he’ll take care of him real soon.

— warning | bad writing, slow burn (i’m annoying), secret relationships (oc’s bsf has the hots for jk), cruel humor (oc acts hard to get), fluff, cheating (jimin won’t give up on this girl), relationship abuse, abuselight stalking, lying, toxic relationships, smut, aggression, irrational behavior, misogyny, derogatory comments (oc’s bf is a DICK), rudeness

— smut | pussy eating, light dirty talk, unprotected sex, semi public sex, semi rough sex

— word count | 8.04k words

— song suggestion | dream of you — chungha

Jangmi, Minhyuk, and a guest of her choice had been invited to a gala tonight hosted by none other than Park Enterprises.

He didn't mention anything of the sort when they hung out, so it was a bit of a surprise when her secretary read out the email.

"Are you ladies ready?" The driver asked the girls, seeing that they were making final touches on their hair.

"Yes!" Yeri clapped her hands together, grabbing their purses. "Did you bring your extra lip liner?"

"It's in my purse. I kept my compact in your purse if that's fine." Jangmi and Yeri headed out of the van, thanking the driver on their way out.

The girls walked towards to entrance of the venue, arms linked together.

The inside was gorgeous, almost like how you'd imagine the inside of a castle.

"Is this what it's like on Bridgerton?" Yeri gasped, looking around.

"This could almost pass as the Paris Opera House" Jangmi looked around, almost every detail catching her eye.

The scenery was beautiful and she felt as if Jimin really took the concept of a gala so serious.

"Imagine if we never read the dress code." Yeri laughed, swaying her dress back and forth.

It was required of the girls to participate in ballroom etiquette. The big dresses and the excruciatingly painful heels.

Jangmi wore a black ball gown, sequins colored gold with gold trimming. She looked ravishing. All eyes were on her and Yeri, who wore a beautiful yellow gown.

"Wait." Jangmi stopped in her tracks. "Minhyuk."

"He's not coming." A soft voice spoke, startling the girls.

"My apologies!" Secretary Jeon bowed to them. "I couldn't help but overhear. Mr. Lee rejected our invitation, unfortunately. I came to inform you that Mr. Park is actually running a bit late tonight. He shall join us momentarily."

He couldn't be serious. Minhyuk had told Jangmi he'd meet them there.

Could've been the wrong Minhyuk. There are plenty.

He did say Lee.

Secretary Jeon bowed once more, then went on his way.

"Hm, he's a bit on the softer side." Jangmi spoke out.

"Wow." Is all Yeri could mutter out.

She was love-struck. The guy had approached them even though there were hundreds in the room. Sure he was ordered to, but he did it!

"Yeri."

He was exactly like she remembered. A bit nerdy, but a very cute man.

"Yeri."

His voice was like paradise. Such a soft voice for such a beautiful man.

"Kim Yeri!"

"What?!" She shrieked, causing some heads to turn in their direction.

"There's no way you're really already fantasizing about him." Jangmi snorted, teasing the girl.

"Like I told you before." Yeri huffed. "It's love at first sight. Of course, he didn't see me this time but he will by the end of the night. I'll make sure of it."

"Whatever you say. Let's drink!" Jangmi cheered.

༊—

"This is disgusting."

"You're telling me. I thought the more they aged the better they were." Yeri made a sour face. "Maybe we're just not mature yet."

The girls had no idea the only drinks being served would be aged red wine with fancy European names.

Something about Minhyuk's sudden bail bothered her. It wasn't unusual for him to skip events at the last minute.

Usually she'd get some sort of message ahead of time. Even if it was just a few minutes before.

She knew he didn't want to come in the first place. Both him and Jimin felt neutral about each other. Galas just weren't his thing.

He wasn't much for the party life like she was.

"I'm about to sit here and sip water for the rest of the night." Jangmi winced. She couldn't bear to take another sip of the wine.

"You're telling me. I say after this we get iced coffee." Yeri smiled cheekily, even though it wasn't the brightest idea.

"I'm sorry to bother you both but, do you think I could have a dance miss?"

Secretary Jeon.

Yeri's smile somehow grew. A deep pink blush crept up on her face as her ears burned.

She simply nodded, being put so off guard she couldn't utter out a word.

Linking his arm with hers, they strutted off together on the dance floor.

Yeri had the biggest grin plastered on her face. Throwing up a thumbs up at Jangmi, she couldn't help but chuckle.

"How cute." She mumbled to herself, scrolling on her phone.

Jangmi

Where are you?

Secretary Jeon said you didn't accept the invite

Minhyuk

Something came up.

I'm in Jakarta for a bit for work

I'll see you in a few days

Jangmi was furious. There was no way he was serious. No communication, nothing.

Just "I'll see you in a few days" As if it were nothing. As if it was a town away.

Jakarta? He can't be serious. He just left in total disregard for her. Couldn't even notify her. She had to ask him where he was.

This was getting out of hand. It's like she was begging him to communicate with her. He had no problem tracking her but when it came to him, he couldn't say shit for himself.

"You don't look happy." Jimin spoke, coming from behind her. He took a seat at the chair Yeri previously sat in. "Talk to me. What's up?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She mumbled, a irritated look on her face.

"I can already guess." He looked at her. "Considering you brought your assistant when I invited Minhyuk as well. Who from the looks of it, didn't show up."

Usually Jimin's pushy demeanor would've set her off, but not this time. He announced the obvious a lot, but she knew it was just to get her to open her mouth.

"He's just busy." She replied under her breath, defending him once more.

"Come with me, Jangmi." He reached his hand out to her. "I have a feeling you're ready to leave."

Jangmi looked up at him, holding her hand out to him hesitantly.

She couldn't just leave Yeri alone by herself.

"Don't worry about her." Jimin watched as the girls eyes scanned over her best friend. "She's in good hands, believe me."

"Are you okay if I go?" Jangmi mouthed to Yeri, who urged her to just leave already.

She wasn't too sure about going off with him, but she definitely needed some clarity. The air was getting too thick for her there.

"Just trust me." He smiled to her.

That's all she needed.

She took his hand in hers, and off they went.

༊—

"Shh! You're going to wake up my neighbors." Minhyuk helped the mysterious woman out of the car.

Minhyuk was going to Jakarta, yes. But of course it wasn't for work.

Yoona was one of the women he'd been sleeping around with. The main woman he'd spoil and crawl to in a state of lust.

Who knew states of lust lasted for months.

She was just what he liked. Unlike Jangmi, she was an obedient woman. With a high sex drive at that. Willing to do anything he'd ask. He knew well she was money hungry, but that didn't stop the growth in their relationship.

Reliable. She was there. A single message and she'd rush out the door to meet with him.

He'd stay with her for days on them. Even start meaningless fights between him and Jangmi just to go see her.

He knew well he couldn't just separate from his girlfriend. His reputation depended on her. His company was on the rocks, and the only person able to get his name out there was Jangmi herself.

He was going to use her just long enough to be stable again. Maybe propose to her if he had to. He needed the publicity.

"I want you so bad Minnie." She clung onto him. "We need this vacation so bad. How'd you manage to get so much time away from her?"

"I was lucky to even escape. She's clingy as hell." He chuckled alongside her, giving her kisses all over her neck.

Once, Jimin had been exiting his home, standing out on his porch. The loud sounds from a woman's lips startled him.

The voice came from the left side of neighbor's home. That being where Jangmi lived, he naturally looked over.

It was her boyfriend Minhyuk. But the woman he was arriving home with, was not his girlfriend.

She wasn't Jangmi.

She was taller, much slimmer. Her hair was brown, short. It wasn't the same woman he had seen him with at the club, but she had a similar style.

Bringing the mistress home is a new one. Jimin thought to himself.

A brave man was he. It's almost as if Minhyuk had no shame in bringing another woman to his used to be sacred home.

Often, he'd hear the two get into it. Random bursts of insults back and fourth.

Jangmi would scream. Begging Minhyuk not to go. To just apologize and talk it out.

Minhyuk would scream at her even louder. Insulting her. Humiliating her in front of the entire neighborhood. There were some instances where Jimin thought he'd put his hands on her.

They fought so often. He could tune it out after a few minutes. Here and there he'd watch their other neighbors approach their door, asking them to keep it down.

One called the cops.

It was clear Minhyuk had paid them off to avoid anything being leaked to the outside media.

Most likely with Jangmi’s card.

How could Jangmi put up with all of it?

It wasn't any of Jimin's business. But if his plan was going to work, he needed to watch every second.

Jimin was going to be the one for her. Although she most likely wasn't aware of Minhyuk's behind the scenes work, he was going to take care of her.

He couldn't explain the attraction he felt for her. Even since day one. He'd been denying himself of it.

The two didn't get along. Business was all they knew of each other, and that was enough to disagree with one another.

It's when he started to look forward to their arguments. He started looking up if she'd be attending the same events he would be.

She'd insult him. How it was such a turn on. Her attitude aroused him to a great extent. He was always hard after their interactions.

Jangmi was a taken woman. That was a major obstacle. She would never drop her boyfriend for a guy she was competing against.

Now that Minhyuk was openly cheating on her, it was finally his time. The moment he seen Minhyuk kissing another woman, he knew it was time to put his plan into action.

༊—

"Let's talk." He poured Jangmi a glass of rosé from his newer bottle.

Jimin offered to have Jangmi over for the night at his home while Minhyuk was away and since Yeri would be occupied with his secretary.

She could wrap her mind around her own actions. Why the hell did she feel the urge to say yes to him?

He knew she needed to rant. Just talk out all of her issues and concerns. He was a great listener, and he loved hearing her speak. So why not?

Jangmi changed back at home into her pajamas. She packed a small bag for the night and decided to take Jimin up on his offer.

Although it may have seemed like a bad idea, she was desperate.

She already felt guilty that she would constantly complain to Yeri about her issues. Yeri was all ears, but it was the same problems over and over again.

"Here's how we're going to do this." He set the bottle down. "You're going to talk my ear off and I'm going to listen. Then I'll give the best possible solution. Sound good?"

"Why do you care?" She asked him, "I haven't done anything to be rewarded with your compassion."

"You're troubled. Anyone can see it. I want to help you out because it's hard to watch you be so miserable over some guy." Jimin answered honestly.

"It bothers you?" She looked up at him.

He nodded. "You'd be surprised. I also have a degree in psychology, and I feel like using it. Now talk."

"I don't know where to start."

"Alright then." He leaned back on the couch. "Just give me a rundown of your guys's relationship in the past couple of months."

"He's been unreadable." She began, "Even the most easy going conversations end in fights. He raises his voice and I raise mine. Then he leaves before we can even resolve the issue."

"He leaves? How often?"

She sighed. "Every time. Usually he'll spend the night at a friends or his sisters house. Sometimes he'll go without warning. Like earlier— He was supposed to meet me at the gala. He let me know he was in Jakarta for a last minute business trip after I arrived. No heads up or anything."

Jakarta? He can not be this stupid. Jimin thought to himself.

Jimin knew damn well Minhyuk wasn't on a business trip. Jimin's reasoning behind his lateness earlier had something to do with Minhyuk anyway.

But he couldn't tell her that.

He couldn't tell her exactly everything just yet. It wouldn't fit into the plans he had.

"Why do you think he can't communicate with you?" Jimin questioned her.

"I tend to over exaggerate. I ask too many questions. He doesn't give me any details, so I'm left to assume." She sipped on her glass.

"As anyone would." He added, "Now is there anything he says— when he does talk to you in particular that seems to set you off?"

"I'm embarrassed to say." Jangmi swallowed, eyes rolling over to the floor.

Jimin sat up from his relaxed position, scooting closer to the girl.

"I said talk to me. Tell me the good and the bad, I want to hear everything."

And so she rambled.

"My body. The way I look." The girl breathed out.  "He doesn't like it. Well he does— but only when it's convenient to him."

"Go on."

"He doesn't like the way I dress. Everything I wear is revealing. It's a problem. An embarrassment. I could make eye contact with someone that isn't him, and he could think I'm trying to seduce them. I could wear a hazmat suit and he'd accuse me of trying to show off myself. It's not fair to me. I've tried to hard."

Shit. With a body like that, showing off just came naturally. Her body was perfect, and anyone could tell no matter what she wore. But it was nothing to blame her for.

"I like to have fun. I love to party and travel whenever I can. I like to drink too. Socializing and discovering new things is something I love most. Exploring what the world has to offer is something that exites me. But in his eyes, it's just a problem. I need to grow up, think about our future instead of trying to be out running wild."

With the way she was talking, you could tell she’s been sitting with it for a minute.

She continued. "That morning I came over to your home for breakfast. He called me his whore-ish girlfriend when I got home. A daytime drinker too. I hadn't even told him I was over at another man's house either."

"And the sex. Don't even get me started on that shit. I've never came! Because of him at least. It's the same shit every time. He doesn't listen to what I want to do. It's all about him! So many nights I end up having to finish myself off."

Jimin swallowed. At least she was comfortable.

She could laugh. Hearing herself talking about her boyfriend out loud made her release how many issues the couple had.

"It's not fair to me. Why do I feel like I can never be myself in front of my own boyfriend? You're probably sick of listening. I'm sorry." The girl set the empty glass on the small table in front of them.

Jangmi felt so vulnerable in front of him. Venting to Jimin made her realize she was hurting a lot more than she thought she was.

"Has he done that much damage to you?" Jimin uttered, focusing all of his attention on her.

"I told you when we started. I'm allowing you to communicate with me as much as you need to. I may be a guy but I'm not him."

"I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"Stop apologizing." He chuckled into her ear. "How about we move the conversation somewhere else? You seem to be a bit shaken up by him, and you don't need unnecessary anxiety."

She nodded.

"You still don't look at me." He smiled.

She couldn't attempt to convince herself any further.

The Park Jimin she had loathed for year after year, was sort of attractive.

In this short span of time, she found herself checking him out. How could she not? He looked strikingly handsome.

He had a different look than Minhyuk. Obviously they weren't the same person. But it was like a different vibe.

Jimin had a dark exterior. A boss-like look if you will. The type of guys young women would write mafia fan fictions about. The type you'd make scenarios about before you slept.

She had a boyfriend. But she couldn't stop her wandering eyes. He was so tidy, so well kept. He was so clean.

Jimin was such a man. He made Minhyuk look like a shrimp.

She thought she still didn't like him, but how could she? He had listened to all of her worries without complaining. He asked her questions in relation.

Sure, it was the bare minimum. She'd been so used to below the bar treatment that she forgot what it had been like to really talk to someone. Someone who wasn't her best friend.

"I thought you said I didn't need any unnecessary anxiety." She breathed out.

Why did I just say that? I practically just confessed that he makes me nervous. She thought.

"I make you anxious?" He leaned in closer to her, staring deeply into her.

"N-No. Just forget I said that." She laughed nervously. "This wine was very good!" She rose up her empty glass from the table.

"You're cute." Her sudden nervousness made Jimin chuckle. "Can I tell you something, Ms. Yoo?"

Her ears perked up at the familiar name, nodding afterwards.

Jimin leaned his body closer to hers, making sure their legs touched. Bringing his mouth to her ear, he whispered.

"I'm very attracted to you."

"W-What?!" Jangmi hiccuped.

She had to be dreaming. There was no way Jimin could've possibly said that. It had to have been some sort of mishearing.

"Minhyuk isn't the man that you need him to be." He licked his lips. "You need an escape. A euphoria. And I am more than willing to fulfill that."

"You can't be serious." She backed away from him. "As many problems as we have I still have a boyfriend."

"A boyfriend who's not doing what he needs to. A relationship works both ways, but to me it looks so one sided."

"I'm not going to cheat on him because of a few lousy mistakes." She crossed her arms.

"I never said anything about you being a cheater." He answered immediately. "Think about this carefully Jangmi. All I'm offering here is to be your fantasy."

"Fantasy?" She swallowed.

"I'm offering to do everything he's not doing. You're not happy and it's obvious. I'm willing to cater all of your needs. I'll be the attentive, communicating, adventurous man you fantasize about." He explained.

"I don't know..." She trailed off.

"I can give you time to think about it. I'm not looking for an answer right on the spot. I know it's a lot to take in." He spoke softly, making sure not to pressure her.

It was a bad idea. A terrible one. A stupid decision that was up to her to make. Truly.

But she needed a break. An escape was exactly what Jangmi was lacking in her life.

Minhyuk was supposed to be her escape from reality. He was slacking in the boyfriend department and he wasn't doing what he signed himself up to do.

Jimin desired to fulfill her wishes, so why not let him?

He already had done more for her then Minhyuk has in the past three months. If her boyfriend wasn't willing to put out anytime soon, why would she wait on him?

Jimin's proven that he genuinely cares for her well-being. He actually considers the words that come out of her mouth. Whereas Minhyuk does the opposite.

It wouldn't hurt to try it out.

"Can we kiss?" Jangmi asked Jimin boldly. She leaned closely to Jimin, like how they were moments before.

She was nervous as hell. She was a confident woman but in front of Jimin she crumbled. She was a shy, anxious mess.

She hadn't sensed the feeling since her first meeting with Minhyuk. This time, it was much more intense.

"I thought you'd never ask." Jimin smiled, reaching for the back of her neck as he pulled her in for a kiss.

Jimin's lips were even better than she imagined. Opposed to Minhyuk, Jimin had very plump, big round lips.

The kiss was sensational. The two started out slow but the kiss got heated quickly. They were desperate to try the other out.

They yearned for their mouths to be so much closer. They needed to feel one another closely.

Jimin was powerful. He displayed dominance over her mouth, wanting to show her how bad he wanted her.

The kiss was wet and loud. Jimin's kisses were getting less innocent by the second. Jangmi couldn't help but do the same. Her lips smacked together with his messily.

The couple pulled away from each other to catch their breaths.

Jangmi looked at him, speaking through her gasps. "I'll do it, please."

Jimin smiled, grabbing her once more into a sweet kiss.

He couldn't help but cockily smirk into her mouth, knowing damn well he had her wrapped around his finger.

He knew she couldn't turn back now. She was enjoying herself all too much.

All he could wonder was, ‘Why am I still hard?”

༊—

"Only one? You can not be serious."

"It's true. I know its hard to believe but I've only had one serious girlfriend. I've messed around a couple times but I don't feel like that really counts you know." Jimin explained, "What about you?"

Jimin and Jangmi had enjoyed the takeout Chinese food he brought for the both of them.

In the plastic container, Jimin had given her a batch of homemade kimchi he had made and fermented in his home.

The two were drinking white wine on the bed Jangmi and her boyfriend shared. Cracking jokes and telling stories in their pajamas while a useless film was playing in the background.

"I've only ever been with Minhyuk. Aside from some flings before but it was only a few times. I'm inexperienced I'd say." Jangmi laughed.

The last part of her sentence peaked Jimin's interest. "Inexperienced? I know the other night you said you guys didn't do as much as you'd like but I'm sure you and Minhyuk have done plenty. You've been together for quite some time."

Jangmi was wearing a two piece pink and black velvet pajama set she had bought online. It was a cropped tank with shorts and it would be a lie to said she was showing off just a bit for Jimin.

And he definitely was invested. Her slim waist and glimmering figure was on display just for him to see.

She couldn't say she wasn't staring at him either. The sweatpants he wore to bed definitely peaked her interest.

His dick print was extremely prominent. Her eyes would casually drop to below sea level.

"You're willing to talk about my sex life with my boyfriend?" Jangmi laughed as she rose her eyebrows. "I feel like that's the last thing you'd want to know about."

"I'm more than willing to talk about anything with you." He replied. "And besides, anything he can do I can do better. Or in this case, what he doesn't do."

"Well for starters, he's very self centered. There's no foreplay and there's no edging of any kind. I can't suggest anything he hasn't tried before. Strictly giving him head and missionary. That's the farthest we've ever gone." She began.

Jimin almost spat out his wine. "He won't do absolutely anything but those two?"

She shook her head. "Not a damn thing. He doesn't like talking about possibly trying something new either. It upsets him."

"Does that not frustrate you?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "It used to. Not so much anymore. I just gave up."

His eyes softened as he looked at her. How could she be so oblivious? She was clearly discouraged. It was obvious Minhyuk only cared about his own pleasure. She shouldn't feel hopeless in her own relationship.

"Well if it was up to you what would you like to do?" He asked her curiously.

"Well" She paused. "I want something steamy, hot and rough. I want to be surprised. To be dominated and told what to do. I want to feel hot and bothered, unknowing of what's to come next for me. Oh my gosh I want to be talked to! I want to be desired and needed. Not used as someone's fleshlight. Something exciting and new."

Minhyuk's screw up was Jimin's perfect opportunity.

Jimin swiftly swept the glass of wine from Jangmi's grasp, setting their drinks on the nightstand.

"What're you—"

Jangmi's words were cut off by Jimin crashing his lips onto hers. Her lips immediately reacted, the blissful feeling coming to a return.

Jimin didn't kiss her like he did the other night. He was rough, and his mouth powered over hers.

He was handsy, his fingertips roughly skimming all over his waist and ass. He pulled the two in closely, making their body's touch.

Jimin found himself getting too far ahead. He quickly pulled away from her mouth. To his surprise the girl's lips were still attempting to cling to his, making him chuckle.

"Jangmi" He grabbed the back of her neck, making her face him. "I want you."

The two stared into each other. Seeing into each other.

She finally made eye contact with him. His eyes burned into hers.

"Let me have you." He spoke out, waiting for her approval. His gaze made her heart race. She knew he was after her. She was the one he craved.

"Please." Jangmi nodded.

He smiled before kissing her once more.

Even if she didn't know much about what to do, she followed his movements well. Minhyuk never kissed her how Jimin did, with such desire and passion.

Her boyfriends kisses never left her feeling needed. Often she felt that Minhyuk seen her as some sort of chore he was forced to do.

"So pretty" Jimin innocently fondled with her clothing, before slipping the two piece right off her body. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath the top, leaving her in her panties alone.

"Did you wear those for me? You looked fucking amazing." He whispered as his mouth traveled from her lips to the nape of her neck.

"Jimin" She softly called out, moving her neck to give him more access. "N-No hi—"

"No hickeys. Don't worry I got you." He breathed out against her skin, lips trailing further and further down her body.

His mouth lathered her body with pure admiration, no part of her being untouched.

His lips came to a halt below her stomach. He looked back up at her. "Are you ready?"

"I've actually never—" She answered hesitantly. "I've never done this before. But I'm ready." She halfway mumbled.

She was embarrassed. 28 years old with no experience of being orally pleasured down there. It truly was nothing to be ashamed of, but her own conscious was turning against her.

"I understand, Jangmi. I'll take care of you." Jimin flashed her a reassuring smile.

She nodded, sending him the approval he needed.

He stared into her as he shifted her panties to the side with his teeth. Her glistening slit in front of him made his mouth water.

As much as he wanted to immediately feast on her, he needed to take his time. It was her first time and he was going to make sure she was never going to forget it.

She needed to think of him. If Minhyuk ever wanted to try to eat her out, Jimin wanted her to only remember how he did it.

He started slow, soft innocent licks against her clit. As he began, he caressed her thighs in order to relax her for comfort.

Jangmi flinched at the sudden wetness on her clit. How she dreamed of someone going down on her, and it was finally the day.

“Oh wow,” She exhaled.

And it felt better than she had imagined.

The small licks eventually weren't enough for her, she moved her hips upwards in attempt for her to get more of herself in his mouth. “M-More.”

"Desperate aren't we?" Jimin smirked against her heat. “I thought this was your first time?”

“J-Just shut up and do more”

With that Jimin's soft, precious licks turned into rough and desirous ones.

“Jimin I—“ Jangmi's body naturally retracted. Her legs closing shut as her clit throbbed due to the stimulation.

“Tastes so good.” He hummed. “Never had pussy like this before.”

Jimin used one of his hands to hold her shaking body in place. He was in great need of her juices, and a few licks weren't going to do it for him.

Boy was he addicted.

He buried his mouth into her heat, flicking her clit with tongue.

"S-Shit Jimin" She moaned out breathlessly, her fingers running through Jimin's luscious silver locks. “Fuck— feels too good.”

Jimin chuckles at her words, looking up at her with a smirk. "I know I am, baby. I think I love eating your pussy." He says before diving back in, licking and sucking on her clit until she moans out his name once again.

“T-Think I love having my pussy ate.” She breathed out.

He moaned into her heat causing the vibrations to shake into her. He quickened up his tongue, traveling all over her with his mouth.

"Jimin— I feel it!" Jangmi arched her back as the rise in her stomach began to grow.

"Fuck I'm cumming"

"Cum for me beautiful."

༊—

"I have something for you." Jimin approached his secretary's desk, as chilidish grin spread upon his face.

"Sir I'm rather busy" Secretary Jeon answered as he typed away on his computer.

His work was piling up on him. He could handle it, but he needed to stay focused on what was assigned to him.

"Alrighttt" Jimin balanced on his heels before turning around to leave. "Guess you didn't want Ms. Kim's number."

"What?!" Secretary Jeon stood up from his seat. "No— you really were able to get it?!"

"I'm hurt you doubted my skills." He touched his heart. "But yes, I was successful. Successful enough to get you lunch plans."

"Lunch plans?"

"You're going to meet Ms. Kim for lunch at that sushi place on the corner. Yeah, you're welcome."

He hugged the man tightly, squealing like a girl "Oh my gosh! Thank you! Thank you!"

"Anything for my best employee." Jimin pat his back. "Now get back to work. The harder you work, the faster time will go by."

"Yes sir!" He saluted him, making Jimin laugh.

He exited his secretary's office, entering his own office next door.

Taking a seat at his desk, he set up his IPad in front of him, using it to FaceTime Jangmi since he got her number the night before.

It rang and rang until she finally picked up.

"Hey beautiful." He smiled into the lens. "How's work so far?"

Her striking visuals immediately captivated as soon as the camera came into a clear view.

She was in her office, doing some work on the computer. Her IPad was on a stand by her desktop, so he could see her from the waist up.

"Stressful. I'm ready to be home already. I miss the Chinese food we ate yesterday."

She could get used to this. The cold man who resented her was gone. He was admiring her and she soaked in every second.

"Well I miss you." He chuckled. "Should I let you go? You seem busy."

She shook her head. "No, don't. It'll be nice to have you on the phone while I work. I'm usually all alone unless my secretary comes in."

"Same here."

She paused. "Speaking of secretaries, how did Secretary Jeon react when you told him?"

"He jumped up out of his chair. Gave me a hug too." He laughed. "What about Ms. Kim?"

"She screamed in my ear. She went on and on about him and what she should wear. It was cute." She smiled, thinking about how her friend jumped for joy at the news.

"So when are we going to go on our lunch date?" He rested his chin on his palm, staring at the screen. "Unless shrimpy is going to take you out."

"He never does. I'm not doing anything for lunch today, if you'd like to come pick me up." She winked at the screen.

Interrupting their conversation, one of her assistants knocked on the door.

"Ah give me a second." She told Jimin before speaking out to her employee. "Come in!"

"Ms. Yoo, you have a delivery." She held up a rather large bouquet of flowers.

The flowers were roses painted deep yet bright purple, wrapped in black florist paper.

The roses were arranged in a heart shape, tied together with a ribbon in the same color.

"Let me help you." Jangmi got up from her desk chair, seeing as the roses almost threw her assistant out of balance.

Taking the bouquet in her hand, she thanked her before her assistant left her office.

Hearing the door close, Jimin spoke up. "What was your delivery?"

"Here, look." She took a seat back on her chair, showing off the bouquet she was delivered.

"They're beautiful. Who sent them to you?" He leaned closer to the screen.

"I don't know. There should be a card or something." She set the bouquet on her desk, turning it over to look at the card.

Roses for my rose

PJM♡

Looking at the card attached to the ribbon, she smiled seeing what it read.

"You got me good. Thank you so much." She blew a kiss at the screen. "They're so gorgeous"

Minhyuk had given her flowers before. So why was her heart beating quicker than when he got them for her?

"You're welcome beautiful. Like I said, I'm your fantasy. So anything he wouldn't do, I would. And better." He licked his lips, staring at her.

The nickname, 'beautiful' rolled off his tongue so elegantly. Like it only belonged in his mouth.

"Anything?" She leaned in, fondling with the material on her blouse.

"Anything my rose." He answered back, leaning into the screen like she did.

"I don't want to go out for lunch. I think I'd much rather stay in my office and have you join me."

"And what exactly would we do in your office?" He rose his eyebrow.

"Why don't you come over and find out?" She responded.

He didn't need to think twice about his next move. "I'm on my way."

༊—

"Honestly, I'm really glad to see you again." Secretary Jeon exhaled, his faint dimples on full display in front of her.

"Me too. I didn't think we'd end up meeting like this." Yeri shyly responded. "This was sudden. Not that I mind at all but I thought we wouldn't see each other for quite some time."

The two had met at the nearby sushi place, just like how Mr. Park arranged. At first Secretary Jeon was a shy mess, but he was easily able to adjust.

Yeri wasn't any better. Spamming Jangmi's inbox moments before she entered the building.

"Me too. But Mr. Park assured me he could get your contact information. Considering I forgot the last time." He laughed.

"I'm glad he was successful. I'm surprised he was able to get it out of Jangmi. They hate each other." She added on.

"I'm not so sure about that." Secretary Jeon sipped on his iced water. "It's some petty rivalry. Who knows, they could become good friends."

Yeri nodded in agreement. "The whole rivalry thing is just childish. It's been so many years since they broke out in the industry. If anything they'd be more powerful together."

"I agree." Secretary Jeon nodded. "But let's not talk about them. I came here to talk about us."

"Us?" She rose her eyebrow. "I didn't think we were there yet Secretary Jeon."

"I don't mean to be too forward with you. My apologies Ms. Kim."

"Call me Yeri."

"Hm?" He tilted his head.

"Calling me Ms. Kim makes me feel too professional. And if you don't mind I'd like to call you by your name, Jungkook."

He nodded, a stupid smile plastered on his face. "I'd like that Yeri."

The couple sat in silence for a second, simply just soaking in each other's presence.

Yeri wouldn't take back what she said previously. It was true love at first sight. The way they were so comfortable with each other so soon.

He undeniably felt butterflies around her. His fake confidence was adorable to her, seeing how he was so shy and cutesy.

"Before I forget," Secretary Jeon cleared his throat. "Saturday there's a gathering at the company's office. I-I was wondering if you'd want to go as my date? It's nothing too extravagant. I'm pretty sure Ms. Yoo and Mr. Lee were invited as well. There's drinks, food, and music. Of course if you don't want to go you—"

Yeri laughed, cutting off his rambling. "I'll go with you Jungkook."

He couldn't help but smile. "I'll pick you up tonight at 8 then?"

༊—

"If I got to see you in that skirt everyday, I'd never miss a day at work." Jimin locked the door to her office behind him as he approached her desk.

"Shut up." She shook off the sensual compliment, standing up from her chair.

[mazeofyeni]

꒰ㅤ LOVE SHHH' ─── YOONCHAE'S DATING HISTORY .ᐟ

™ ❪ all yoonchaes past relationships! ❫

╰ synopsis: all of yoonchae's past relationships.

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ 🪷 put it on replay

╰┈➤ #FEATURING. jeongin ❪ straykids ❫ – yangyang ❪ wayv ❫ – karina ❪ aespa ❫ 𓂃 ! ❞

「 yoonchaes' masterlist 𖹭 」

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ❪ 2018 — 2019 ❫ jeongin , straykids .ᐟ

jeongin met yoonchae through a mutual friend ; they went to the same school , but they never really crossed paths until yoonchae met this friend. jeongin was crushing on her hard and yoonchae thought he was cute , she seen he's debut so she wanted to congratulate him , so she approached him and that's how she got his number. a few months later they were dating secretly , only a few school friends — which was there downfall. it wasn't their friends who blew the whistle exactly, but a friend of their friend who took a picture with them in the background holding hands. no one knows if the friend did it out of malice or not, but the public saw it and they went wild.

the cause of their breakup was due to public outrage and their companies deciding that it would be best for the mental health of the two at the time minors, so although it was short lived it tore the two because they actually did really like each , they still talk to this day , they've never tried to work it out but he'll always be someone she loved.

❪ public opinion ❫. her first relationship, that was also blasted in the public , and people weren't happy to be honest , she was two years into her career and jeongin was a rookie , they just didn't like it , but there was a niche of people who didn't care as the couple were happy.

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ❪ unconfirmed situationship ❫ yangyang , wayv .ᐟ

yangyang and yoonchae met obviously because they're in the same group , they didn't date though; it was just an occasional hookup , of course they never openly say anything about it , but the members weren't dumb ( ten is nosy as hell ). yang yang did like the girl and wouldn't mind if they did date , but she wasn't having it so they continued like that until they ended it.

There was no reason why they ended things; they just did , they ended on good terms , they just stopped hooking up , they both even interacted numerous times after.

❪ public opinion ❫. the public didn't find out about this until the picture leaked in 2024 so it's not really a public opinion , people were a bit thrown off cause they're in the same group but it's real small majority , most people just watch nct2020 and nct2021 content closely to see it.

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ❪ 2022 — 2023 ❫ yoo jimin , aespa .ᐟ

yoonchae knew karina before aespas debut and when she met the girl she was sprung , she'd been crushing karina as soon as she saw her , even when she was with yangyang , karina was the first girl she ever liked , her bisexual awakening if you will , thankfully karina reciprocated those feelings and they began a relationship , she was going through a lot during this time and karina helped her through it all — which sadly also ended their relationship.

she was struggling too much and as much as karina wanted to help her, she couldn't and she didn't want karina to suffer because of her so she made the decision to end it , so she could focus on herself and get her self together , she ended it right around the time she went on a hiatus , karina talked to her all throughout the hiatus as friends , karina still liked yoonchae but she understood why she ended it and hopes nothing but the best for the girl.

❪ public opinion ❫. it was brief no one had time to even clock it , most fans saw it as to two friends hanging out , not to girlfriends on a date , so they thought it was cute that the two groups were good friends.

©️LUVYENI

[jnnul]

masterlist

personal faves are italicized.

💛 - well-received - 100+ notes

💙 - popular - 300+ notes

💚 - loved hard - 500+ notes

🤍 - hits - 1k+ notes

nct dream

mark lee

[2:19 a.m.] - angst, timestamp (💛)

five questions - fluff, short story (💚)

renjun hwang

n/a

jeno lee

ready for love - fluff, angst, novella (💚)

ready for love (teaser) - teaser

[6:42 p.m.] (ending) - fluff, timestamp (💛)

haechan lee

nasa - fluffy angst, short story (💛)

jaemin na

lowkey - fluff, drabble (💛)

forgetful - fluff, short story (💙)

chenle zhong

n/a

jisung park

in his first relationship... - requested, headcanons, fluff, nsfw (💛)

ot7

things he reminds me of - fluff, headcanons (💙)

nct dream in college - fluff, headcanons (💛)

in another lifetime... - fluff, headcanons (💛)

other nct members

jaehyun jung

ric flair drip  - fluff, angst, nsfw, novella (🤍)

enhypen

jungwon yang

jnn hard hours #1 - smut, thought bubble (💛)

peaches - angst, fluff, bullet fic (💛)

tokyo 1988 - angst, fluff, novella (💙)

heeseung lee

n/a

jay park

[9:12 a.m.] - fluff, timestamp (💛)

jake sim

n/a

sunghoon park

where have you been? - fluff, drabble

[12:32 am] - suggestive, timestamp

the right side of wrong. - series, novella (💛)

sunoo kim

n/a

riki nishimura

tokyo 1988 - angst, fluff, novella (💙)

ot7/ot6 (nsfw)

‘i love you’ - fluff, angst, headcanons (💙)

your love is my favorite color - fluff, headcanons (💛)

how much love is there between us? - fluff, headcanons (💛)

riding enhypen - nsfw, headcanons (🤍)

you text them ‘i love you’ randomly - fluff, smau (🤍)

you text them ‘i need you’ - suggestive, smau (🤍)

tomorrow by together

soobin choi

good liars - coming soon...

yeonjun choi

n/a

beomgyu choi

let me let you go - angst, drabble

taehyun kang

n/a

kai huening

n/a

new jeans

minji kim

a phone that won’t ring - angst, fluff, short story (💙)

super shy - fluff, drabble (💛)

hanni pham

n/a

&team

euijoo byun

n/a

yudai koga

dating k - fluff, nsfw, headcanons (💛)

fuma murata

n/a

nicholas wang

n/a

yuma nakakita

n/a

jo asakura

n/a

aespa

jimin yoo

dating karina - fluff, nsfw, headcanons (💚)

aeri uchinaga

n/a

minjeong kim

n/a

yizhuo ning

dating ningning - fluff, nsfw, headcanons (💙)

boynextdoor

jaehyun myung

n/a

sungho park

n/a

sanghyuck lee

n/a

dongmin han

falling in love at first sight (x3) - fluff, short story (💚)

donghyun kim

nouvelle vague - fluff, smut, novella (💛)

if i say...i love you! - fluff, short story (💙)

riize

shotaro osaki

n/a

eunseok song

mr. brawn and ms. brain - fluff, short story, first love chronicles #1 (💚)

sungchan jung

n/a

wonbin park

n/a

seunghan hong

DNA. - coming soon...

sohee lee

n/a

anton lee

n/a

ot7

first love chronicles - series, fluff, angst, short stories/novellas

other links!

jnn hard hours [all groups]

jnnul’s [works in progress] - 3/5 completed

jnnul’s [works in progress ii] - 0/4 completed

jnnul's [works in progress iii] - 0/9 completed

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[kanmom51]

JM Face masterlist

PJM1 is coming soon

Jimin IG story 5 February 2023

JM on TikTok 5 Feb 2023

JM TikTok 11 Feb 2023

JM dance challenge part 2

JM TikTok 18 Feb 2023

JM dance challenge part 3

JM new dance clip 25 Feb 2023

Face mood

JM concept photos - hardware version

JM concept photos - software version

Hard vr. Soft

JM Face emotion of the day

Enjoy it he tells us - Set me free pt. 2

The comparison - Lie and Set me free pt. 2

Hobi’s IG story 17 March 2023

Set me free pt. 2 - the visuals

JK told us

Fuck yeah JM

SMF pt. 2 - practice pic

JM Set me free pt. 2 - dance practice

Stunning

Finally user j.m is promoting his song

What I missed when I was sleeping 20 March 2023

What I missed when I was sleeping 20 March 2023

JM ‘Set Me Free Pt.2’ MV Photo Sketch

Like crazy - teaser

I guess we can start sharing pics from the album, right?

Okey guys, we can now reveal the big secret

JM Like crazy - my crazy thoughts

JM Face photo sketch

JM arriving for his KBS performance recording 24 March 2023

PolyC once again

Spotify with JM behind the scenes

JM  ‘FACE’ Album Cover Shoot Sketch

Jimin after day

Like crazy dance practice

I really love this interpretation

JM IG 25.03.2023 9:09 pm KST

Is letter a song for army?

Bringing this back

JM like crazy - dance challenge

If we didn’t think already that JM was a sweetheart

JM Face playlist

Bighit official IG - JM filters

JM like crazy dance challenge up

JM and Hobi dance challenge up too

Letter - the lyrics that didn’t make it

Serendipity and Letter

JM and the new Like crazy filter

JM at the Inkigayo pre-recording 28 March 2023

JM Like crazy photo sketch

Like crazy MV shoot sketch

JM at M countdown

JM M countdown full performances

JM now fulfilling the dreams of some super lucky fans

Set me free pt. 2 M countdown fan cam

Like crazy M countdown fan cam

Like JM like crazy

JM on Music Bank

What will JM eat for dinner?

JM performances Music Bank

Jimin “FACE” Special Cut for ARMY

Like crazy (English version)

Jimin Inkigayo 2 April 2023

Jimin’s “FACE” Selfie Diary for ARMY

JM Like crazy on Studio Choom

JM no. 1 Billboard 100

Tommy part of the JM fan club

Jimin W-live 4 April 2023

JM Weverse 5 April 2023

Full English subbed JM interview at SBS radio - Like JM Like crazy

JM IG 5 April 2023

JM and Niki (Enhypen) behind the scenes

JM IG 7 April 2023 8:23 pm

JM Choreography practice BTB

A day with JM in NYC - Vogue USA

Face off - what is it all about?

JM and Yoongi on Yoo Jae Suk’s DdeunDdeun

JM-JK 12 April 2023  

JM Spotify 14 April 2023  

Jimin’s ‘FACE’ album activities - behind the scenes  

Letter is for JK.  Period.

Letter again

Serendipity is now the preface and Letter is the forever

Dear.Army

Dear.Army again

JM ‘FACE’ Music Show Promotions Sketch  

Did JK promote other members like he did JM?

JM and the MVs for Face

Lookie what’s coming

Like Crazy new insights

Talking about JM’s Face Off

2 years to Face

JM Production diary

JM Production diary

Coming soon

So he does know how to use his IG story

JM Production diary keyword interview

JM Production diary trailer

JM Production diary - The truth untold

JM Production diary - JM’s favorite lyrics from Face

Nah I couldn’t wait for my post for you guys to see this

JM Weverse 23 October 2023

Just me or same vibes?

We just lost him at that point

JM production diary documentary and live 23 October 2023

Muscle memory

JM production diary - the commentary

JM fanmeet 30 October

[orchdaries]

(  aespa's yoo jimin (karina) ,  cisfemale , she/her  )    : ̗̀➛   twenty-five years young , a firebender from the noble house of choi . many know them to be fanciful & unambitious . how unfortunate , truly … i’ve always found them to be softspoken & dutiful . they oft fulfill the duties of a healer . oh , i should tell you — they oppose the rule of house yi . well , you know how every storyteller bends the tale they tell .   ✶   sky , 21+ , she/they  .

please welcome house choi's middle child (along with her twin), choi aera! contrary to the tendency of her house of learning lavabending, she preferred to focus and hone her bender abilities into the healing field instead of the combat one because she's the support type of character through and through (she really really really doesn't want to be sent to the battlefield and fight if house sungold or house yi ever makes them fight, help), thankfully the universe smiled at her and, even though she isn't the best healer you'll ever meet, she can do her job quite alright! under the cut more info about her past + personality and a couple of plot ideas!

choi aera. 25 y/o. firebender & healer. awakened her bending abilities at 10 y/o and as much as it was fun to incorporate fire bending into her daily life and how much she learned about herself in that process, she doesn't really enjoy the combative part of bending.

half because she does value peace and half because she isn't really good at conflicts especially when they end up getting physical (which is super ironic considering she's from a military house); hates the idea of getting hurt but also honestly would give up a limb if it meant she didn't have to go through an agni kai.

likes to daydream about a lot of scenarios in this very "seeing the world through rosé colored lenses" type of way and sometimes can even seem like an airhead, even more so with how softspoken she is; daydreams about some noble from another house coming to sweep her feet away at least five times a day, dreams of saying goodbye to her family (or even the fire nation) to live her own adventure another ten times but honestly lacks the courage to really do so.

in the end she likes the comfort and familiarity of what she already knows too much to really abandon it for the unknown. but it doesn't mean!! she won't enable others to chase after their own dreams no matter how unrealistic they are!! yes, @/head of house [redacted], go elope with that [redacted] commoner, aera will be rooting for you!!

loves loves loves to live vicariously through other people so pls tell her everything while she does a check up on your chi paths!!

does a lot of wishful thinking too, in this "everything will be alright in the end and if it isn't ok yet then it's because this isn't the end" way.

wasn't really the troublemaker type when growing up and much more like the good kid that wanted to be praised by her parents especially, but she liked fairy tale/fantastic sort of stories since then. i imagine playing pretend with her was super fun because her imagination was wild.

grew up as a mommy's girl through and through, going out of her way to spend time with mom when she was still alive (from unprompted and not so unprompted tea time, to bringing books so mom could read to her or asking to be taught this specific fire bending technique, etc etc) and showing off her results to her was motivation for aera to work hard 99% of the time; so it obv hit aera hard when she died, much more than her dad's death did (oop).

for the longest time she thought that she could've done something to prevent their deaths and that's why she almost started studying to be a doctor instead of a healer; still got into the study of herbs/potions for a while but she's no expert in neither of those areas; she knows the basics and that's pretty much it.

her mourning is mostly over at this point, but sometimes it still hits her very hard; that also made her mature a lot pretty quickly and now she keeps most to her more dreamy part of her personality to herself or to the people she lets in her inner social circle because she also closed herself off a lot more even though she does seem as friendly as ever.

overall a very sweet girl with sweet dreams but zero backbone (and actual desire, i guess) to chase them!

doesn't really like house yi because she feels they put way too much pressure/restraints on her family due to their ability to lavabend and wished that a "kinder" royal family ruled them instead.

wanted connections

fave client ! someone who always has the best stories to tell while she does her work on them. regardless of whether they're true or not, she's always looking forward to work for them because it means she gets to hear what adventure they got (or will get) themselves next!

childhood/teenage friends ! someone that not only knew aera before the tragedy with her parents but also was close to her and saw firsthand how the light in her eyes dimmed with what happened. someone that she feels like she can count on to this day or maybe they drifted apart at some point for some reason and now they're trying to reconnect (successfully or it's just very very awkward)

crushes ! she's much more in love with the idea of love (esp one that comes straight out of a love story) more than anything else + is very weak to good looking people so she gets infatuated with anyone pretty easily. i imagine she has an endless list of people she crushed on (but then falls out of it very easily too); people she's more in love with the idea of them than the person themselves.

the one that got away ! talking about which!! someone that she was in a relationship with but then it never got too far for any reasons— aera's immaturity with actual love, the other person's own shortcomings, maybe they were right for each other but met at the wrong time, etc etc, but it's still someone that she keeps in a very special spot on her heart, making her go wild with what ifs in her head. the one she'll always love (maybe in a first love or that one special summer affair sort of way) regardless of anything else.

older sibling energy/knight in shining armor ! as much as aera reaches out to look after people, she also has this energy of can't be left alone (affectionate but also a little derogatory). aera just feels like someone who'd fall for scams every and anywhere with how easily she genuinely believes that this really random guy is part of the earth nation's fallen royal family and traveled all around the world to hide themselves while collecting wealthy and knowledge so now they're looking for a new spouse to rebuild their dynasty with. basically someone who can't help but feel protective over her.

this is everything that i could come up with but i'm always open to brainstorm any and everything!!

[karjinayooo]

The prettiest ladylove.

· · 𓍢ִ໋ 🦢⋅ Her beautiful eyes and infectious laughter, still gleaming in the night, seemed to captivate the attention of an alluring woman clad in a puple suit ensemble, gazing intently into the camera. ★ ˚₊ 𖢷

DISCLAIMER

Regarding to X's policies, I hereby declared that this account is run by a fan, merely a parody and was made for roleplay purposes only. It has no affiliation with the real Yoo Jimin/Karina of aespa.

How is Karina Life?

Yoo jimin (karina) : South Korean singer, rapper, and dancer under SM Entertainment. She’s the leader, main dancer, lead rapper, vocalist, center, face of the group of aespa. She was born on april 11, 2000 in seongnam, South Korea. She has an older sister.ㅤ

She is Catholic, and her name “Karina” came from her baptism name “Katarina”. she wants to learn how to cook, makeup, and producing. She was active on SNS, and was cast by a talent agent who sent her a direct message. The page is now inactive.

Before debut, on February 2019, Karina appeared in Taemin's "Want" music video and also acted as backup dancer for the song's promotional stages. she's so attractive and famous trainee on SM Entertainment. Also, before her debut with aespa, on November 1, she performed alongside Kai of EXO for the virtual showcase held by Hyundai Motors. She has energy on her dance, she's got stamina and her transition are good. also for her expressions are on point. On October 28, 2020, Karina was revealed as the second member of aespa. the group debuted on November 17 with the digital single "Black Mamba". She was the leader of group, and as main dancer of group.

Little fun fact about her, she was the animal person such a hard working within soft hearted. she and her cats 🐈 also being such a popularity beyond everyone. Oh, forgotten some great news. AESPA today on going for the tour on demand biggest dream on Meksiko and <✈️> sst... something is waiting for the SMtown concert soon. If you curious about me, you can check instagr.am/Katarinabluu. ꕮ˖ ˚

Within the intricate tapestry of words and phrases, I hope the elucidation above gracefully weaves the portrait of who I am, a symphony of thoughts and emotions, intricately composed, waiting to be understood and appreciated. ˖ ࣪ 🏹 ᖚ 🦢 𖥔 ࣪˖

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 K͟a͟r͟j͟i͟n͟a͟y͟o͟o͟ 𓍼 𓈒 ࣪ ♥︎ ִ % ֵ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ.୧ ₊ ˚ 💭 ⊹ 🎀 ✧ ˚ 💗 ୭ ⸝⸝ ᵎᵎ ⋅ ★

[namjoonboo]

Could you do jealous power bottom suga with sub top male reader when suga is jealous that male reader is paying attention to namjoon and not him and end up punishing reader smut

Give me your attention boy.

Suga x male reader

Warnings: power bottom! Suga, sub top! Male reader, heavy smut, jealous! Suga, very small angst, mentions of 3 rounds,

A/N: RAAAH I love this request!!, I just love power bottoms so much<33

♡♡♡

Suga was burning in jealousy right now. His eyebrows frowning and his eyes looking straight at his boyfriend named Y/N. Why would suga be so mad right now? Well it started when Suga was telling Y/N that they should go to this cool amusement park for their date. Y/N smiled and he agreed to go with him.

But when they got there, a voice called their names "Yoo Y/N and Suga!!" When they turned around they saw namjoon with jimin. "Oh hey!!" Y/N said back to them. Suga was shocked to see namjoon and jimin at their date.

After that incident, namjoon and Y/N started to have a conversation about stuff. Suga's eyes were burning on Y/N's back.

'Why would Y/N give me attention on our date and talk to namjoon instead!' Suga thought in his head with burning jealousy. "Hey suga, are you ok?" Jimin said making sugas thoughts go away and bring his attention to jimin. "Yeah of course I am!!, why did you ask?" Suga said while one of his eyes was twitching.

Jimin look shocked to see suga act out of character. "Oh I was just, wondering. You well... looked mad." Jimin emitted. Suga look back at Y/N and saw him and namjoon laughing and smiling while their conversation.

'Ugh! Why is Y/N smiling and laughing with namjoon' Suga thought to himself looking down with anger. He was just so jealous of namjoon. He wished he could be the one talking to Y/N right now and now namjoon. He wished Y/N was smiling and laughing with him. They could have been having fun at this amusement park but no. Jimin obversed suga for a while now thinking to himself, 'what is suga thinking about?'

.....

"Bye namjoon!!' Y/N said waving to namjoon and walking over to his boyfriend. When Y/N walked to suga, Y/N felt something was wrong with him. "Hey babe" Y/N said to suga kissing his cheek. Suga didn't say anything back and just looked away. Suga didn't want to look at his boyfriend right now. He was thinking ways to.. punish Y/N.

After there time at the amusement park, Y/N was driving home, suga was currently in the passenger seat. Suga looked at Y/N and slapped his hand on Y/N thigh and made his hand all the way up to Y/N clothed cock.

"S-suga..?, what are you doing? I'm trying to focus on the road." Y/N said with a shakey voice. Suga went to Y/N ear and said "Y/N, when we get home, I want you to get naked right away and I'm going to fucking ride you so god damn hard. This is what you get for not giving me attention."

Y/N's eyes went wide and said nothing. He was too shocked to say anything. Y/N could feel a boner growing in his boxers while suga hand was still on his crotch. But he tried to ignore sugas hand and continued to focus on the road.

Y/N let out a groan when suga started to rub down on his crotch. "Fuck s-suga.." Y/N said whimpering. Suga smirked and felt even more horny watching Y/N whimpering. "I cant wait to see you break from me riding you." Suga said smiling making eye contact with Y/N when there was a red light.

"Oh my god, Y/N your so handsome."

.....

When they got home, Y/N could feel suga say "go in the bedroom, when I get there, I want to see you naked." Y/N rushed to the bathroom and closed the door and quickly took off his belt and took off the rest of his clothes. Y/N on their shared bed and sat down embarrassingly waiting for suga while naked.

Y/N looked up to see suga entering into the room naked with his perfect thighs and ass. Y/N couldn't take his eyes off suga amazing body. "You cant get your eyes off of me, huh?" Suga said climbing up to the bed. And then suga grabbed Y/N face and roughly slammed their lips together and roughly made out with Y/N while they were still naked.

When Y/N put his arms around sugas waist when suga was exploring his mouth, suga slapped Y/N arms "ah ah ah, no touching me yet." Suga said grabbing Y/N shoulders. Suga looked at Y/N nightstand and tried to look for Y/N's lube. When he finally found it, he put some on his hand and put some on your cock and put some on his hole.

And suga slammed right now on your cock. "A-AHHH..~" Y/N moaned loudly at how roughly suga went down on him. Suga didn't have any mercy and started to roughly ride Y/N out of jealousy and anger. Suga put his hands on Y/N shoulders and put his lips on Y/N's chest and roughly gave him hickeys while riding him.

The overstimulation was sending Y/N shivers down his spine. Suga was a power bottom since day one in your guys relationship. He always took control no matter what. But he wasnt always this rough with Y/N's dick. Only when you misbehaved. But right now, it was so much. The skin slapping in the room was very loud if someone heard it.

"OH MY GOD-AHH..!!~ T-T-TOO.. MUCH AHH..!!" Y/N's head went back when he felt close. "Oh my go-god babe. Ah.." suga said biting his lip when Y/N's cock hit his prostate every time. It felt like Y/N's cock was getting sucked so much. When you were about to release, suga didn't let you. "Your not able to cum big boy. Since you gave all of your attention to namjoon, I was planning riding you three times. And maybe I will let you cum in me."

Y/N face flushed and look up at suga. Y/N would be a giant mess after this...

....

Made by namjoonboo on January 4th 2023

[eventuallyaugust]

10. lee fcking soo-man (written)

note: bbtr lore??

warning/s: lee soo man (i think that's it)

hyunseol shoves her phone in her pocket and adjusts herself on her seat with bang si-hyuk on her right side, raking her fingers through her hair. why did i even suggest having a meeting like this?

"it's going to be okay, seol. mr. park and i are here to back you up on whatever you picked, okay?", bang pd-nim softly whispers, looking at the and the idol throws the ceo a look to find him giving her a thumbs-up.

hyunseol nods shyly and looks away, her worries somewhat reduced to a minimum. her manager, yongsun stands protectively behind her seat whose hand she felt on her shoulder, a gesture to show the latter's support to her before she feels the older woman remove it.

the idol hangs her head low, unable to fight off a smile from appearing on her lips. a few knocks are then heard as hyunseol's head shoots up, looking at the door.

the ceo's office door then opens with a big hit staff leading a man in a business suit, lee soo-man and one man wearing a button-down shirt and pants who hyunseol guessed is the show's producer. behind them are two women, one is the idol hyunseol will be working with, yoo jimin or mononymously known as aespa's karina while the other is...

hyunseol tries her best not to throw her manager a look once she meets the second woman's eyes. the other woman who entered is one of yongsun's best friends and the big hit idol often sees the latter in some of the pictures her manager posted in her personal instagram.

jung wheein. that's her name. age 27

hyunseol then diverts her gaze from the other woman to the idol and catches the latter staring back at her. the pair hold each other's gazes for two second, unblinking before the two idols look away with their eyes darting around the room, hoping the embarrassment running hot in their veins vanish.

little did they know wheein and yongsun saw their small interaction and now are smirking at each other before recomposing themselves, noting to ask the idols about it for a later time. the three newly-arrived people take their seats across hyunseol and bang si-hyuk, a whip of professional air rising in the room.

"good morning, mr. park." sm's ceo, mr. lee slightly bows to hybe's ceo who returned the gesture, hyunseol not knowing how to act in the suffocating professional tension in the room.

it's already hard enough being around hybe's ceo. so imagine alone being in a room with the latter and another ceo of another entertainment who is apart of the big 3 companies in the industry. the urge to break the tension is too tempting, but the thought of her image getting tarnished holds her back. for all she knows her actions might affect her group and her members and she doesn't want that to happen, so being her best behavior will have to work until the end of this meeting.

"good morning to you too. mr. lee." park jiwon starts off, his palms against the smooth surface of the wooden table. he meets soo-man's eyes, a polite smile on his lips. "thank you for lending us your time for today."

soo-man bows a bit, his smile getting wider. "the pleasure's all mine. i'm honored to have this meeting with you. shall we get down to business?"

please, god. let me survive this meeting in peace, hyunseol prays to herself as she lays her hands on her lap, keeping herself from playing with her fingers.

----

"i believe that's all we need to discuss for today, mr. lee." jiwon states as he places his pen down on the notepad, a smile directed at his fellow ceo. "again, thank you for giving us your time for today. i appreciate your effort in attending this meeting."

the producer who entered the room with lee soo-man and later introduced himself as gong daejung left the room with a bow, not wanting to be in the same room with the two ceos any longer.

"it's an honor to be here. and i forgot to say this earlier, but i must say what a great space you have here, mr. park." the other ceo looks around the spacious area, a pleased smile over his lips.

"thank you, mr. lee. the felicitations should be dedicated to hyunseol right here. she decorated the room with mr. bang's permission." the said idol flinches upon the mention of her name with her head shooting up before she nods as she hangs her head low, heat covering her cheeks.

mr. park wears a proud smile, his eyes falling on the 5'11 foot idol. "i'm honored to have her in hybe's creative team. her contribution will forever be unforgettable and our company will continue thriving through her and the other idols."

"it seems like you have a high regard for ms. oh here." mr. lee observes, his eyes flicking over the tall idol who tries her best to hold the ceo's gaze. good thing she had a practice of holding a staring contest with her cousin, sehun who is one of the intimidating people she knows.

si-hyuk holds himself back from shooting soo-man a raised brow when he sensed something from the latter's tone. mr. park also notices the strange tone, but decides not to bring it up to avoid making a scene. yongsun holds herself back from clenching her fists, her eyes trained on the 70-year-old man.

"it's already obvious on how much we spoil her from postponing a fansign event to attend her niece's graduation. in hybe, we let our idols attend their personal matters and do their own things because they are still human beings who have feelings despite working as idols."

soo-man hums, his calculating eyes trained on the big hit idol and drops the most insane question known to humankind, or at least, to hybe representatives. "are there times you think your idols are getting a bit too spoiled?"

si-hyuk, jiwon, and yongsun freeze at the question as hyunseol blinks, trying to process if she heard those words right. si-hyuk immediately narrows his eyes at the other ceo, slightly tilting his head as he clasps his fingers together.

jiwon adjusts himself on his swivel chair with his elbows on the armrests, looking the other ceo up and down with venom in his eyes. yongsun's expression hardens with a click of her tongue as she takes one step forward, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

soo-man notices the way the air inside the room immediately changes into some thick and heavy, or in karina's perspective, deadly and lethal. the 5'6 foot idol watches as jiwon, si-hyuk, and yongsun look at the ceo of sm entertainment in disdain with hyunseol's shoulders falling, her eyes slowly losing its natural glow.

karina tries her best not to throw the ceo beside her a glare, considering she might put her group in a grave position if she did so. what the fuck this man is even saying? why does he always feel the need to comment on things, especially other companies' business?

why can't he just mind his own business? it's not even that hard to do, wheein, on the other hand, thinks to herself as she throws soo-man a questioning look with her nose scrunched up before meeting her best friend's eyes, seeing the latter in state of glaring the ceo.

"pardon?", jiwon asks as he keeps himself calm, knowing that making a scene will be an unbecoming of him as the ceo of a prestigious company.

"what am i saying is, i've been noticing that your idols are getting too spoiled for their own good. it's just... they look like they are so dependent on you and i want to ask what you think about that." soo-man leans against his seat, using his hands to support his statement. he immediately notices the change in the big hit idol's demeanor and the other three's behavior, knowing his words have hit a nerve.

he's referring to hyunseol, jiwon thinks to himself and his eyes dart towards the 50-year old producer beside the 5'11 foot idol. he could see the latter's eyes fill with something explosive and holds himself back from diffusing the fight, knowing very well his efforts of doing so are futile. this meeting won't end in good terms.

si-hyuk calmly stands up and catches the attention of everyone in the room, his eyes looking down at soo-man in disgust and hatred. hyunseol grabs the producer's coat back, making the latter look back at the idol.

the idol shakes her head while mouthing 'no', telling the older man to not start a fight and an amused smirk appears on soo-man's lips, enjoying the interaction.

si-hyuk's once hatred-filled eyes soften for a moment while looking down at the idol before it hardens once again, looking away with his eyes meeting soo-man. "no, hyunseol. i had enough of people acting like my artists, especially those from big hit don't work hard. it's getting annoying when people discredit their efforts and hard work, especially yours."

bang si-hyuk is a man of his words and once he makes a decision, he always sticks to it. hyunseol reluctantly lets the coat go with a small pout and chews the inside of her cheeks, her hands on her lap while keeping a close range with the producer just in case the fight escalates into a physical one.

si-hyuk starts off, glaring at soo-man who is looking amused to the scene in front of him. "there are no such things as too spoiled in hybe, especially in my previous company, big hit. in case you aren't aware, txt doesn't have any privilege when they debuted despite being in the same company as bts. just like their seniors, they worked hard to rise and join the other idols in the top, especially hyunseol right here.

"she worked hard to write and compose songs for herself, her group, and her fans. it took them a lot of times for their potential to be recognized by the public and most importantly, don't speak on how we treat our artists. for all the people working under hybe labels know, that's how idols should be treated, respected, and managed unlike how you do it back at sm entertainment. you're from that company, of course you won't understand hybe's inner workings."

soo-man adjusts himself on his seat, his aura changing as if he's challenging the 50-year-old man to continue speaking.

"we treat each member in our groups fairly, unlike—"

from there, hyunseol decides that her ears have heard enough of the conversation as she then stands up and grabs the producer's shoulders, holding him back. "that's enough, bang pd-nim. he's just trying to rile you up, don't give in to what he wants to hear you say about him."

"no, hyunseol—"

"no, sit down, bang pd-nim." the authoritative and firmness present in the idol's voice and as she looks down, towering over the producer. she then massages the latter's shoulders, talking like a child coaxing their parent to change their mind. "stop and sit down. don't let your day be ruined by him, don't stoop down to his level 'cause we all know it's worthless to do so."

karina looks up and keeps her eyes focused on the other idol's facial expression, noticing the way the 5'11 foot idol clench her jaws and purses her lips together. she starts to stare at the big hit idol and wheein notices it, taking a mental note to talk it with her best friend.

"and, mr. lee", hyunseol tears her eyes away from the producer and looks down at the 70-year-old ceo with cold eyes, taking one slow step forward to him. her height casts a shadow over the man with the help of the fluorescent light shining behind her. "mind your words and tone around hybe producers, staffs, and artists, especially me. if i were you, i'd listen to me."

lee soo-man let out a snicker with a shake of her head, finding the words thrown at him ridiculous. "oh, really?"

the reaction from the man is expected, making a smirk forms over hyunseol's lips. she chuckles like a maniac as she looks at her manager, pointing to the 70-year-old man with a shake of her head. "can you believe this, yongsun unnie? he even got the guts to react like that, as if..."

she takes another step forward, her height seeming more threatening to the ceo than before.

yongsun and si-hyuk immediately throw each other a look, both approaching the tall idol and grabbing ahold of both of the latter's arms. the trio from sm entertainment notice the pair's actions and raise their brows, confused.

"hyunseol, don't—" / "seol, stop—"

"no, why should i?" the tone in the txt member's voice shifts into something karina is familiar yet couldn't identify. karina notices how si-hyuk and the idol's manager have a tight hold on hyunseol's arms. "you're not the only one who is angry, you know, pd-nim. if that question was directed to me, i normally wouldn't care and just shrug at it, but for mr. lee to include my members along with the other hybe artists who put their efforts of making a name for themselves in the industry, i wouldn't let that pass. over my dead body."

"i'm not afraid of you, ms. oh."

hyunseol's smirk gets wider as if it was possible, showing off her white teeth as her eyes focus on the ceo, a different glint in her eyes. "oh, you should be, mr. lee. afterall..."

the idol's voice drops into a whisper, deep and menacing as she slightly crouches down to his eye level, her smirk still on her lips. "... i know who you are and the past you keep trying to bury away from existence, especially the charges that you avoided for the past years. i've known all of them, lee soo-man. and believe me, i can leak that information at my will."

"h-how did you know that? who told you that?!" color drains from the ceo's face, his smirk getting wiped away from his lips.

a deep chuckle escapes the idol as she is pulled backwards by si-hyuk and yongsun, not even bothering to resist the pair. "oh, that? you're forgetting i'm nation's best friend, mr. lee. that title is true in the music industry and the political side. let me just say that it pays to have connections like i have. and believe me, ms. yoo and her manager right here don't want to know all the heinous crimes you committed. it'll take me this whole afternoon to explain what you did."

"so you're threatening me? you know i could sue you for defamation, right?" an angered expression appears on the ceo's face as he stands up, failing to scare the tall idol.

"you're digging your own grave, mr. lee." hyunseol warns.

"you're also forgetting i have the money to control this narrative, ms. oh." soo-man counters, hiding the panic rumbling in his chest.

"i would like to see you try, mr. lee. especially when i have a strong evidence on my side. right, yongsun unnie?" on cue, yongsun shows her phone to the ceo as her phone screen shows an ongoing voice recording, karina and wheein guessing that the recording starts after the producer had left.

karina, wheein, and soo-man stares at the screen in shock before 5'6 foot idol looks at hyunseol's face, seeing a huge smirk on the latter's lips. like an anime where the detective finally revealing the culprit to the public.

"h-how-?" soo-man throws jiwon and si-hyuk a look and sees them looking everything but surprised at the recording. as if they have been expecting the idol pulling a move like that.

"you see, we are prepared, mr. lee, especially on a meeting like this. we are aware that there are times something will take an unexpected turn and i've grown to take a recording of everyone i meet. if they pass my judgment, i get to delete the recording and move on." the idol takes another step, si-hyuk and yongsun failing to hold the txt member back. she looks down at the ceo with a manic smile plastered on her lips. "but since you didn't pass it, i won't delete it."

"now", hyunseol throws jiwon a look. "can i dismiss mr. lee now, mr. park? there's nothing left to discuss with him, anyways."

"do the honors, hyunseol." the ceo slightly bows at her, a pleased smile over his lips.

the idol looks back at soo-man and motions the door to him, a teasing smile over her lips. "this meeting is dismissed, mr. lee. you can now leave."

"why am i the only one getting dismissed? i'm not the only one who's not from here."

in instant, hyunseol's voice changes from her usually high-pitched one into a deep almost rumbling one. "because i said so. or are you forgetting i have something against you, mr. lee?"

grumbling, the 70-year-old man heads for the office door and walks out but without slamming the door behind him, airing his annoyance to the hallway.

"that went well." si-hyuk sarcastically comments after a few minutes of silence and hyunseol snickers, leaning against her seat. "that also means i need to go. if you'll excuse me, i have places to be. i have still some songs to review."

"anddd i'll make a visit to the cafeteria. i'm in a need of some snacks after that meeting." jiwon speaks up as he stands up, stretching his body a bit. he then approaches hyunseol and pats her head with a smile. "good job earlier. if i was in your position, i would probably be swinging my hand to his face to shut him up. i'm proud of what you did. i'll walk with mr. bang here."

the producer and the ceo then start walking up to the door and walk out of the room, leaving the two idols and managers inside.

"you really weren't lying when you said he was balding, wheein unnie." hyunseol breaks the silence with with a giggle as yongsun joins her, taking si-hyuk's previous seat.

wheein chuckles and shakes her head, approaching the 5'11 foot idol. "i told you, seol-ah. he's getting closer and closer to wearing a wig."

"if he wasn't such a grumpy pants and a dick, i'd feel sorry for him." hyunseol chuckles with wheein, making karina blink in surprise and throw her manager a raised brow.

the latter catches the look and realizes what sm idol is thinking. "oh, right. karina, this is hyunseol, txt's oldest. seol-ah, this is jimin, one of the aespa members i manage."

"hello, jimin-ssi. nice to meet you and i'm sorry about meeting likes this. usually, i'm not like that with everyone, but it seems like mr. lee wants to be an exception." the txt member gives the aespa leader a short bow while smiling.

the latter slightly flinches as she immediately stands up and shyly returns the gesture but with a ninety bow. hyunseol is her senior from the same company bts debuted in and karina needs to show her respect for the woman, so why not start with a bow?

karina then straightens herself and meets her manager's eyes, confused. "how did you guys know each other?"

the txt member points to her manager. "oh, i met wheein unnie through yongsun unnie. they became best friends in high school and up until now, their friendship is still going strong."

"and probably because you're the nation's best friend, seol-ah. that's why you easily clicked with wheein."

"probably." hyunseol shrugs at her manager's statement.

"wait, what about the things you said to mr. lee? is it true?", wheein asks as she turns to the bighit idol.

"a bit yeah?"

"what do you mean a bit?" the sm idol's manager asks and karina gets curious, looking over the 5'11 foot idol.

"well, actually, he had only three charges against him. only two of them are minor offenses, but the third? that's a major offense, but i got a feeling he must be thinking about his nightly activities."

"nightly activities?", karina and wheein both repeat.

"drugs, dui, and gambling." hyunseol holds up three fingers.

"and how did you know that? it's always a mystery on how you always know these kind of things." wheein tilts her head.

"my title, nation's best friend precedes me, wheein unnie. it also helps me that i used to be involved in the law enforcement."

"law enforcement?", wheein asks, furrowing her brows and hyunseol nods. "i thought you want to be a chef?"

the txt member only smiles at the 27-year-old woman, mystery lingering on the gesture. "that'll be another story for another time, unnie. for now, let's go out! i'm starving."

"all right." yongsun grabs hyunseol's hand and tries pulling to the txt member to her feet and the latter giggles, seeing how hard the older woman is pulling her.

wheein then turns to jimin, tilting her head. "do you want to join us, rina-ah?"

"i-if it's okay to tag along with you, then sure", karina shyly answers, trying not to be enthusiastic about the invitation.

"it's okay!" wheein and karina turn their head to hyunseol who is now back to her beaming façade, currently standing beside her manager. "besides, this is a great bonding time before filming the show. but if you don't want to, then it's fine, I understand."

"no! no, i mean. i'll join you guys. it's been a while since i went out and you're right. we could also use this time to get used to being with each other." karina stands up and momentarily meets hyunseol's eyes before immediately looking away with a heat coating her cheeks.

"okay, let's go!"

taglist (open!!): @curly-fr13s , @neuftaeng , @myothegreat

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