#jimin×reader

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#5. A beautiful memory

Synopsis - When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre- parallel universe (duh)/ kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings - Language/dirty thoughts

Word Count - 11k

a/n- This is a bit early and serves as a bridge between the previous and upcoming chapters. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading! ♥️

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Chapter Index

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“You want me to do what?” You shout, placing your palms on the kitchen island. A little bit harshly that a soft bang echoes. Jimin just seriously stares at you. Not even flinching at the sound.

“Park Jimin. Tell me you’re not serious.” You say again as he doesn’t reply. Jimin gives you a tight-lipped smile. “I am spring roll. I am very serious.” Says finally, expression still very serious.

He must be losing his damn mind.

You sigh, exasperated. “But I know shit about business Park. What do you expect me to do there?” You throw your hands in the air. Jimin sighs too. Leans forward a bit over the kitchen island. Interlaces his fingers together.

“Listen Lil, just because Liya doesn’t remember this day, that doesn’t mean that other people too. They are gonna wonder what happened to Kim Liya. She has a business to run, and I don’t want everyone she knows on my doorstep asking where she is. You need to cover her life on her behalf while you are here Lil. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to.” He looks directly at your eyes.

You groan as you look away from his face. Eyes landing on the document on the island. Your ticket to disappear every other day without getting into any trouble. Written proof that you have CFS. You don’t even know what that means. As Jimin explained that means you are experiencing profound fatigue. Which means you’ll need special consideration. The letter is from a non- existent GP. But the hospital he works exists. In your world. Everybody knows it and as long as no one decides to contact this doctor and check for themselves, you are safe. And you know that nobody would walk that length for you. Except for Key. Oh, she is going to be thrilled when she sees this.

Jimin, in that case, did a god damn good job. This letter seems astonishingly legit. He did all that with the details you provided about the hospital. And he did that within a day. Impressive. Scary. Makes you realise he is a fucking CEO. Owns a damn business. Has connections. Still, sits here with a pout on his lips when you call him an asshole. Fuck! He is adorable.

Funny how you don’t see him as the powerful businessman he is. But rather just a man who is couple years older than you. A friendly one. Hot one. Caring one. Looks intimidating sometimes but makes you quite comfortable. See, he is a funny thing. Makes you wonder how he is when he is at work. Is he like this with everyone? Probably not. Maybe he is a very serious boss. You may not know very much about him yet, but you know he must be a successful businessman. He needs to be a responsible and serious leader to accomplish that.

Still, you can’t believe it. Can’t imagine him being, this impressive, grumpy, wise boss when he sits here with you in his sweatpants. His hair all messy and tousled. His plump lips still in a pout. You can’t believe him being a CEO of a company when he always comes up with stupid ideas whenever he is with you. Exactly like now, when he wants you to attend a damn board meeting in place of Liya. As the CEO of The SE, which is apparently the biggest publishing group in this Seoul, South Korea. A part of the Kim Group. You didn’t know what that is until Jimin explained. According to that explanation, Liya’s father owns the half of this country. And he wants you to pretend be his daughter and attend this broad meeting. When you barely understand the basics of business.

You turn back to Jimin. Ready to tell him to fuck off, and you can’t do it at all, but he beats you to it.

“Oh, c’mon. You said we’re friends Rollito. Friends help each other.” Whines. Looks like he might stomp his foot under the island. He doesn’t. Instead, gives you puppy eyes.

That friends part does something weird to your heart. Why did you ever tell you are friends now? Is a good idea though. You’re back to arguing over silly matters. Nobody avoids anyone. No guilty conscience. Just friends.

It was a close call. You were on the verge of spreading your legs for Park Jimin. Getting fucked and become the other woman. Woman who he cheated on his girlfriend with. If that ever happened that would have made you want to drown yourself. Can’t imagine living with such a burden on your shoulders. Even the things that happened made you want to go through a purification to get rid of your sins. Made you think how much of a bitch you are for wanting to kill Kim Taehyung for cheating and doing the same thing with his best friend.

The way thing turns out is good. Very good in fact. Even though you feel heavy whenever he or you mentioned you are friends. It will go away someday. This heavy feeling. It will.

You watch the way Jimin is still giving you puppy eyes. Makes you roll yours as a reply. “Oh, fuck Park Jimin. You’re so annoying. Can we go back to being strangers. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. You’re opportunistic.” You huff when he gasps in disbelief. “An opportunistic?” Clutches his heart and winces. “Can’t believe you’re saying such horrible things to me after I helped you.” Reaches for the document on the table. Takes it in his hand before continuing. Brandishes it in front of your eyes.

“See, I helped you. Don’t be a selfish ass and do this for me in return.” Puts the paper back. You are the one gasping in disbelief now.

“Yah! I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“So what? You could have solved the problem by yourself?” He looks way too smug for his own good. “Yes of course, Park. I’m fully capable of solving my own problems.” You tilt your chin up. His smug look gets worse. “Oh yeah? Do you need rem—”

“No thanks. I’ll do it.” You stand up. Take the letter. “Because we are friends and friends help each other.” Say as you push the chair back. With a screeching sound. “But I want you to know Park, that I can solve my problems most of the times. I’ve been doing that all my life. You’re the one who butts in to everything.” You’re saying the absolute truth. You could have solved this problem by your own. It would be hard. Jimin made it way easier. Still, you would’ve found a solution in the end. You’re grateful for him helping though. Just don’t want to feed his ego.

Jimin opens his mouth to retort when you interrupt him. Point your finger at him. “And just remember if your girlfriend’s damn business went to bankrupt, it’s all on you Park. All on you.” Look him in the eye when they disappear in his cheeks. Like always. You like that a little too much. How mesmerizing.

Jimin is grinning. And then chuckling.

“Fine.” Says through his chuckle. “Trust me, you don’t have to do anything. Just sit at the executive chair.” Stands up too. Rounds the kitchen island to walks towards you. Stops. Smiles again. Ruffles your already messy hair. Only for a second. And then he is going away.

Your heart stops for that second.

Oh fuck! You need to get laid.

...................................................................................................

You bite your thumbnail while gaping at the pristine glass building through the window. The building itself is enormous. Shines under the cold winter sun. Majestically. A modern architectural masterpiece. And you are to pretend the owner of that building.

Holy fuck!

This is The SE group. Liya’s father owns this. Liya manages it. She is amazing. The thing is, you don’t think you’re that amazing. Even looking at the building makes your stomach turns and churns awfully. Cold beads of sweat appearing on your forehead. You can think about twelve million things that can possibly go wrong. Oh, shit this is a bad idea. A terrible idea. You start chewing your thumb nail even faster. Habitual flaws that you were unable of letting go. That’s why you have perfectly manicured nails on your other fingers but the right thumbnail looks like it survived seven wars. Can’t help it.

You keep gaping at the building and chomp your own finger when Jimin’s hand reaches for you. After he sighs heavily. It makes you slightly startle and jump in your seat. He grabs your wrist. Makes you stop chewing your nail off.

“Fucking stop it Lil. You gonna hurt yourself.” Says as he yanks your hand down. You turn to look at him. He has a scowl on his face. Is starting at your hand. You follow his gaze. Look at your poor finger. Are about to say that you can’t help it when he cut you down by wiping your finger clean. With his hand. A simple and innocent act. Yet, your nervously beating heart stops again. Just like how it did when he stroked your hair. You shift your gaze back to his face with your eyes wide.

Did he just wipe your finger? Isn’t that gross?

Apparently, it’s not. Not when he is completely unaware and unfazed. Is stroking your finger gently. As if he wants to soothe it. Oh, you and him trying to sooth things are not good. Especially, when you feel these strange sensations in your tummy and your heart is squeezing. In a very bittersweet manner. That’s why you clear your throat and retrieve your hand from his soft grip. Look back at the building.

“I can’t help it.” Say finally. Avoid looking at him. Still, can feel his burning gaze on your face. “Yeah, but it’s bad.” He mutters and shifts in his seat. You just nod. Want to change the subject and the sudden heavy atmosphere.

“This is really bad Jimin. How am I going to pretend like a fucking CEO when I don’t even know which floor my office is. What if I ended up in the bathroom instead?” You question wearily. Finally finding the courage to look back at him. Meet his gaze. He chuckles.

“Office is on the top floor. And you are not gonna miss it Spring Roll. Your secretary, I mean, Liya’s secretary will meet you when you enter the building. She is expecting you. All you have to do is act like you own the place.” He sounds like it’s all easy. Well, it’s easier when it’s said. You’re the one who have to do it for real. You whine pathetically as you slump down. Drowning yourself in the comfy leather seat. You absolutely don’t want to leave Jimin’s car.

Jimin gives you a soft look. Unbuckle his seatbelt so he can lean toward you. You don’t like this. He is way too comfortable with you. How can he be like that? Isn’t he afraid, you’ll mess things up again? Maybe he doesn’t feel like how you feel. You shouldn’t feel this way either. But you do and he makes it worse. You wonder if he solved his horny ass problem. Finally fucked his girlfriend that he will be not horny for a year.

Well, you haven’t solved yours. You still have your horny ass, and he should keep his distance. You wish he would but of course he doesn’t. Brings his face inches closer to you. Breath fanning your face. It makes your nipples ache and panties soak. How pathetic? Suddenly, you want to leave his car.

“You don’t have to do anything Lil. Trust me it’s going to be all okay. Just sit at the meeting and then call your driver when it’s finished. He’ll take you home and all done. Everyone’s happy.” Squeezes your thigh. Makes your skin burn and tummy flutter. You’re crying internally. It’s a painful and deep desire that he ignites within you. You want him to stop and not, at the same time.

Jimin keeps his hand on your thigh for a long minute before reclines from your personal space. How you are glad. It’s not wise to be here with him. Better if you get away even though you’ll have to manage a business. Besides he says it’ll be okay. You’ll trust him with this. So, you nod at last. That makes him grin.

“Yeah? That’s my girl.” Says proudly. You on other hand, are back to stare at him with wide eyes.

Who’s who now?

What the fuck does he think he’s doing. You want to get away from here. Fast as you can. You hand is already on the door handle when he speaks again. “You’re a damn good friend Spring Roll.” Says happily. And you feel that disappointed ache. Fuck it. What’s wrong with you? You need to be on this just like him. That’s how you are going to survive this until you find your answers. Yes. You need to be his friend. So, you take a sneaky breath. Turn to him and scowl.

“Fucking opportunistic.” Mumble and exit the car. Take one final look at him when he wishes you luck. Wait there until he drives away.

How beautiful his little smile is.

...................................................................................................

You didn’t mess up. Surprisingly so. Yes, you sat there at an opulent conference room with an ashen face and clammy palms. Yes, you stupidly gape at all professional looking fellas there, whenever they asked something from you. Still, you managed to get through that with yes and nos. Even got the false impression that running a business isn’t that hard when all you have to do is say yes or no. In the end, you managed. Better than you thought, and you could pat yourself on the back for being that good. Being good at acting like you own the place.

Only minor issue you caused was calling Liya’s secretary Mrs. Seong. She appeared stunned. As if you had called her by a insulting name instead her real one. Turned out that apparently Liya just calls her by her first name. She herself told you that. Asked you what is the matter with you. And then of course she nearly had a heart attack when you refused to let her go to bring you a coffee. She is older. Probably good ten years older than you. Doesn’t sit right with you to call her by her first name. And then send her to bring you coffee? You were horrified.

You are extremely relieved now when you finally exited the pristine building after you called your (Liya’s) driver. Jimin had given you Liya’s phone despite your protests. Said it was okay. You are Liya while being at the office. That’s how he managed to get you inside this navy-blue Cashmere knee length skirt and the white turtleneck sweater. A winter coat to keep you warm. Knee high boots on your feet and very expensive looking bag on your hand. You and Jimin made sure that you emulate Liya in every possible way. From your clothes to hair. You thought you did a good job. Jimin thought you did a very poor job.

You smile to yourself when you notice the sleek, white car parked in front of the building. Even though everything went impressively well, you still don’t wish to linger here anymore. Especially, with Mrs. Seong bombarding with you hundred different questions. She just won’t accept your excuse of wanting to meet your boyfriend as a good excuse to cancel lunch plans with a client. An important one in that case.

“It’s a good excuse Mrs. Seong. I need to have a private life as well. You get me?” You sternly say as walking briskly towards the vehicle. The woman in the bob cut following close behind you. “But this is a very rare chance, Miss Liya. Didn’t you want to have another chance with Owen Scott?” Her high heels clatter against the cobblestone floor. She doesn’t let you just disappear. Makes you annoyed. You don’t know what this deal is or how important that is. No that you care anyway. Jimin wanted you to be here. At this one meeting. You have no intention of going through another painful business meeting. Lunch or not. You sigh as you reach the car. The driver gets out to hold the door open for you.

How uncomfortable?

“Please can you reschedule this lunch for me Mrs. Seong. I can’t ditch Jimin today. This is important. Trust me hm? Please give Mr. Scott a good reason.” You finalize and turn to get into the car. Rudely ignoring her protests. You’ll let Jimin deal with this later.

You mutter a soft ‘thank you’ to the driver as you almost get into the car when a voice, which does not belong to the woman, interrupts you. You take the foot you place inside the car back. Turn around. Eyes going wide and then a huge grin breaking out on your face as you recognize the man in front of you.

“Jungkook?” You nearly squeak in excitement but catch yourself right at the time. Eyes raking on his broad figure and then landing on the person next to him. The girl with the purple hair. “J!” You exclaim again. Happily. Jungkook looks the same as you remember. J has cut her hair a little bit shorter. Daring. You like her.

“Noona.” Jungkook squeak loud enough for all of you. Takes a step forward. Nearly touches you when J yank him back. He frowns at her first. Then smiles at you again. “What are you doing here?” Asks excitedly. Both him and J have two banana milks in their hands. You hide your amused grin while shrugging. It feels extremely wrong and weird to lie all over again. “Work, I guess.” You look at The SE building. Their eyes follow you. “Oh, you work here?” J wonders. Her eyes squinted and takin a good look at the glass establishment. Jungkook does the same.

You don’t want to take credit on someone else’s behalf after all. Hence, why you are about to tell yes and let it go. But then J suddenly gasps. “Wait? Aren’t you own this?” She gestures to the building. Well, you don’t at all. You don’t even own a doll house to be precise. And then regarding this building, Liya doesn’t own it either. Technically, it’s her father’s. Yet, you just nod anyway. Easier that way.

Jungkook lets out a low whistle. His eyes in a faraway land. “Can you fuckin believe we clubbed with a bunch of freaking CEOs” Asks from J when she shakes her head. Almost in a pure disbelief. “All thanks to Joonie. I love him. Too bad the bugger is already in love.” J sighs dreamily. You guess they are referring to Kim Namjoon. The acquaintance of Hoseok. Jungkook nods in assent. “Too fucking bad. Even if he isn’t J, J, you still have no chance against me.” Mutters. He looks dreamy just like J. “Wanna bet?” J breaks the stupor and snaps her head to him. Now she looks very serious. Jungkook scoffs. “Fuck yeah, how much?” Challenges.

You think you can watch their bantering for a whole day. There’s a low laughter emitting from inside your cheat. Unfortunate, how a throat clearing interrupts you. You turn around, suddenly remembering the bob cut woman. She is scowling. Displeasure evident on her face. “Your ride Miss. Liya.” She turns toward the car. Driver still holding the door open for you.

Ah yes! The ride.

“Ah yes. I better get going now guys. See you sometime later? Huh?” You grab the door and say to the two people. They are both watching you intently now. You give them a soft yet polite smile. Bow. J reciprocates your actions. Jungkook doesn’t. Takes a moment. Then suddenly, completely out of blue, thrusts his banana milk to you. Surprises you more than a little. Even makes you stumble backward at the intensity of how he jolted his hand out. A soft oh leaves your mouth when Mrs. Seong clears her throat again. This time in warning. You take a look at her disgusted face. And then back at Jungkook.

He is looking at you expectantly. Eyes big and mouth forming a cute ‘o’. You don’t think it’s normal to offer drinks to people like this. So, you don’t think it’s normal to accept them. Yet, he has this eyes that makes it difficult to say no. So, you take it. Chuckle. Ignore the sounds Liya’s secretary is making. “Thank You Jungkook. It’s very nice of you.” Smile awkwardly. Raise the drink hesitantly. J is giving Jungkook a murderous look. “I’ll... go then. See you.” You mumble again. Are about to get into the car. And Jungkook interrupts you again for the hundredth time for these past few minutes.

“Noona wait! Do you like... want to hang out with us?” He blurts that out that all three of you including J and Mrs. Seong, echoes a ‘what?’ in unison. He grins. Why is he so random? “Well, uh… are you heading home now?” Scratches the back of his head. “Yeeeaaah….” You drag that one word hesitantly. Yet, answer before your brain can evaluate it properly and comes up with the best answer. Fuck, you gave the wrong answer. Jungkook is beaming. “Then join us. We can have fun.” Nods to himself. J grabs from his oversized black t-shirt. Hisses.

“What the fuck Jungkook? You can’t ask a fucking CEO to hang out with us like that. Woman probably has tones of works to do.” She looks at you. Then back at Jungkook. Well, you have no work, but you nod. Jungkook visibly deflates. A pout on his lips. “Who cares if she owns a business or not. If she wants to she can.” Mumbles through his pout. “You really have work Noona?” Asks again. You are about to say yes and disappear when he bridges the distance between you two. Startles you and Mrs. Seong. So do to the two men stand guard at the entrance of the building. Ridiculous, how you have to hold a hand up to stop them from coming to you.

“It’s going to be fun. And you owe me a banana milk.” Jungkook peers at your face. You open your mouth in disbelief. Did he just fucking give it to you and asks you for a new one. “You can have it back.” You hold the drink back up to him. He whines. “Oh, c’mon.”

J hisses again. “Fucking hell Jeon.” Almost succeeds dragging him away from your space. Almost though. He shrugs her off. “Isn’t it boring to work all the time?” Doesn’t give up on bugging you. The thing is it’s almost working. Hence, your partially defeated sigh. He knows he is wining. Comes up with some more funny reasons why you should go with them. In the end you give up. He has eyes you can’t say no to.

“Okay Fuck. Let’s go. Not like I’m gonna die.” You try to appear annoyed. Fail when Jungkook is grinning from one ear to other. Step away from the vehicle when Mrs. Seong stutters on her word.

“But Miss Liya... Did…didn’t... you say… what about Mr. Park.” She takes few steps with you when you start to walk away with the intruders.

“I’ll call him Mrs. Seong. Don’t worry. You can go back to work.”

You are not going to call Jimin since he will not expect that. He has works to do. No time to worry about a pretend girlfriend. Not like you really have plans. That was a lie. Besides, it’s okay to have a little fun. Jungkook and J are nice people. You like them. You chuckle excitedly. You’re buzzing with excitement. Jungkook mirrors you. J shakes her head in mock disbelief. Finally joining you to walk side by side.

………………………………..………………………..………..............

“What are you doing wandering around the city?” You slurp the last bit of Jungkook’s banana milk from the straw.

“Eh...” J responds noncommittally. That’s not really an answer. You gape at her face. “Eh?” Repeat what she said. “We are just wandering around. No purpose.” She says. Shrugs. “So, like what? You have nothing to do?” You are curious to know. Look between J and Jungkook. They walk with you in the middle. “We have, normally.” Jungkook answers in place of J. Grabs your full attention.

“What do you mean normally?” You question further.

“Well, normally means if we are at our part time jobs or classes.” J states. You are now annoyed you have to turn your head every time. Yet are happy to know they both can relate to you. Only if you could tell them. “Yeah? Then is this mean you don’t have lectures or work?” You turn to Jungkook even before he answers. Know he is the one who is going to answer your question.

“Oh, we do. We have a class.” He says casually.

“So?” You turn to J.

“We skipped.” She states and points toward a Tteokbokki stall. You gape at her when she starts to rush toward the stall. “Kookie, you want some don’t you?” Asks from Jungkook yet yanks from your hand. Dragging you to the food stall. You are shocked. Do they just happily skip lectures. Like that? Aren’t they worried? You and Key are always worried. So, you voice your concerns. “Aren’t you worried about failing?” Jungkook is the closest to you. “We manage.” He replies before taking your other hand in his. Now they both are dragging you toward the stall.

They manage?

How unfair that there are people who can manage everything. When you are struggling with everything. They seem happy. Jungkook and J. Extremely so. Makes you feel happy too. You watch as J places three orders. Old lady in the stall hustling to give you your food. The smell makes your stomach growl despite not being hungry a second ago. You’re suddenly very hungry. But then that hunger vanishes in a finger snap at J’s next words.

“You gonna pay for us? Won’t you Miss Liya. You won’t make two broken college students pay for you?” She takes the first bowl of Tteokbokki with both of her hands. Bows deeply to the old lady. Looks at you expectantly. Oh, fuck. You have no money. You refused Jimin’s money when he tried to give some to you. The plan was to head home straight after the meeting. God, this is a stupid idea. Why did you ever agree to come here. You feel your throat goes dry as you scramble for a practical excuse.

“Yah! Don’t do that. We invited her.” Jungkook bellows. You absolutely love him.

“You did! Not me. Then pay for us idiot.” J screeches at Jungkook. Click her tongue. You are starting to feel worried that she is starting to be annoyed. For real. But then Jungkook is looking unfazed.

“I will. For her. You can pay for your annoying ass.” He shoots you an affectionate glance. You feel uneasy. Very uneasy. Don’t want to be cause for a fight between two best friends. How humiliating? You can’t figure if they are fighting for real or not. You shouldn’t have come. J clicks her tongue again. Harder than before.

“Then you should write that damn essay by your own annoying ass.” States with her head held high. You look away from her when the vendor gives you another bowl. You take it with a slight bow. There’s an eerie silence. They both glaring at each other. Until Jungkook sighs. “Fuck okay.” He mumbles. Apologetically smiles at the old lady for his vulgar language. Pays for all three of you. You feel extremely bad.

“Gosh, I hate your annoying ass J, J.” He pouts so hard again, poking at his food. J laughs wickedly. “But you love me.” Is excited of the taste. You take a bite too. Very awkwardly and hesitantly. It actually tastes pretty good. That’s why you think Jungkook is really mad. He looks angry. Brows furrowed. Scowling. You open your mouth to apologize even though you have no other options when J beats you to it.

“He isn’t angry don’t worry. Just loves his food little too much.” She snorts after say that. You snap your head to Jungkook. Eyes meeting his when he peers at you from over his bowl. Does he really look angry because food is good? Apparently, he is. The smile he gives you confirms that.

……………………………………………..………………………..............

You and J stare at the soft plushies inside the UFO catcher through its hard glass. Noses nearly press against the cold material as you cheer for Jungkook. His goal is to win the blue penguin. It’s so fucking adorable that your gums ache. Jungkook is weirdly competitive, having already lost around 5000 won for nothing. He doesn’t listen to you or J. Is adamant about wining the price. He is going to pay ten times more for the plushie at this rate. Still, he doesn’t listen. Stubborn.

“To the left. Left, left, left…”

“Fuck Yeah.” You and J both roar when the claw catches the plushie for the sixth time now. You have to fight off the urge to hit his back in excitement. Jungkook lets out his own noise of triumph.

“Now ladies, I’m gonna win this fucking stupid penguin for real this time. If I don’t J, then you can call me cutie pie all you want.” He declares. Tip of his tongue poking out from between his pink lips. Eyebrows turning into a straight line at how hard he concentrates. You take a deep breath and hold it. As if you need to stay stony for him to win. J does the same. Watching intently the way claw moves upward with the blue plushie barely within it’s grasp. Jungkook very slowly moves the claw to the left.

“Slow. Take it slow.” J whispers in his right ear. He nods. Looks like he is defusing a bomb.

“A little bit more. Move it a little more.” You whisper in his left ear. He nods. Again. Beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

“NOW.... NOW.....”

The way you and J shout makes a woman next to you lose her balance. She catches herself and grimaces at you. You bow to her in apology at the same time the plushie drops into the hole at the bottom. J yells through the top of her lungs as she throws her arms around Jungkook’s neck. Grabbing him to her and nearly choking him to death in the process. He doesn’t mind dying, however. It seems. Not after he won a stupid plushie. He hugs J back in elation. You don’t mind either. Until this very moment, despite all the exciting things you’ve experienced. You tried your best to stay in the Liya’s character. Now, though at the bubbling sensation of triumph. Even though it’s Jungkook’s and is stupid, you break the character happily.

You don’t even realize that you are jumping up and down, hollering. Laughing heartily. You don’t mind at all when Jungkook lets J go and hugs you instead. Picks you up from the floor easily. Making you squeak. Squeezes the life out of you before putting you down. Takes the plushie from the prize bin. Still, grinning happily. Holds the toy to you. His eyes are back to those shiny doe, Onyxes. The eyes no body can say no to. You look at his face and then at the plushie. Dumbfounded. It takes you a moment to understand that he is giving the prize to you. Realization makes your eyes wide. You gape at his face for a second before averting your gaze to J. She is grinning yet rolls her eyes.

“Yah! Are you fucking serious Joen? You give that to her when your best friend is right next to you?” Punches his arm. Playfully. Still, it makes you shake your head furiously. With your hands waving in front of your face. “No, no, I don’t want it Jungkook. You won it. You should keep it or give it to J.” You say embarrassingly when J snorts. Jungkook does the same. “Trust me, Noona, she doesn’t want it. Just being a pain in the ass.” He assures you while pushing the plushie into your chest. “Yah!” J hits Jungkook again. Protesting being called a pain. Especially, in the ass. You are not ready to accept a gift like that. Feels wrong for some reason. Then again, Jungkook made you come here to hang out with them in the first place. That’s why you shouldn’t be surprised when he pushes the toy into your hand forcefully. And tells you to shut it rudely when you try to reason.

……………………………………………..………………………..……......

“You don’t look like a CEO.” J asks offhandedly. You are sitting on a bench under a Gingko tree. Cold air playing with your hairs. Once again, slurping on three banana milks. Jungkook sits next to you. J sits next to Jungkook. So, you have to lean forward to look at her.

“That’s fucking rude J.” Jungkook gives her an annoyed look. She dismisses it. “What? I’m curious. Just look at her. No offense Miss. Liya, but you look nothing like a business owner.” She leans forward as well. Says to your face bravely. Well, of course, you don’t look like a CEO because you are not. Hell, you probably are younger than both of them. Still in your second year at college. And you forgot to be Liya since some time ago. Character was broken.

You feel horrible for eating on Jungkook’s dime, receiving a gift and now to have this drink on him again. He insisted though. But you feel humiliated. Should have taken that money from Jimin. Well, this is your sign to find a job here.

It's fair, in the end, that J thinks you don’t look like an owner of a leading business. All you can do, however, is give pathetic excuses. “Well, I’m a human J. And I know how to keep things separated you know?” You say calmly. Smiling at her. Jungkook nods in assent. As if he knows you. “I am a business owner when I work. Now? I’m a person like you guys. A stupid human who forgot her fucking wallet.” You shamefully mumble the last part. Why do you feel like you are scamming two innocent old people. Jungkook hums disapprovingly around his straw. Takes a good gulp. Then turns to you.

“Don’t say that Noona. We invited you.” He looks pure. Makes you guilty.

“You did.” J corrects him again.

“All right! I fucking remember.” Jungkook harps on.

“I did, Noona. So, it’s okay.” He pats your back, causing you to snort. “Okay but I’ll make sure to buy you something nice soon.” You pat his thigh in return. J peers at your over Jungkook’s large frame. Pouting. “What about me then?” Gesturers to herself. Jungkook mumble something about her being undeserving of anything when she smacks his head. “Ouch you little gremlin, don’t… buy her anything Noona... Not even… Yah!” Rest of his words die on his tongue as J starts to pinch him. They start fighting like two angry cats. Leaving you with no choice but to hold onto Jungkook so he won’t accidentally break J’s neck. Or yours. Your laughter disturbs the peaceful melody of wind.

“Okay shit. Stop it now.” You grab Jungkook’s arm. Trying to control your laughter.

“Jung-”

“Oi! Spring Roll!” Your words and their silly fight all stop at the same time. All three of you turning your heads around to where the sound came. In unison. A livid and exasperated Park Jimin seeps into your view. He is scowling deep. Hands in his pant pockets.

Oh!

“Jimin?”

“Mr. Park?” All three of you exclaim again. In unison. Jimin briefly looks away. Tongue poking the inside of his cheek. Lets out a humourless chuckle. Then his eyes are back on you. Oh, they are dark. Closes the distance between you like he is the wind and stands before you tall. A beat of silence pass. Everyone keeps gaping at Jimin. But he is piercing his gaze through you. There goes your heart beating fast. There goes your mind spinning fast.

Why the fuck is he here? How does he know where you are? Is this a coincidence?

You almost start to believe he is gone mute when he leans down. Takes your hand. Your heart stops again. Breath tangles in your throat.

“Let’s go.” He says with a certain authority. You would have liked it in a different context. Inside a private space. In this context, however, it makes your beating heart calm down instantly. Your breathing turns normal. A scowl, which is similar to Jimin, plastering on your features. He can’t just barge in and tell you ‘Let’s go’. Who does he think he is?

“Baby let’s go.” Jimin mutters again. And just like that your heart is back to racing. Lungs are protesting to breath properly. He thinks he is your boyfriend. Because, you are Liya. He probably is worried about you running the things. You inhale a shaky but sneaky breath. Nod. Get to your feet before turning to Jungkook and J. Both are still gaping at Jimin. You bow to them. Grab your things with the plushie and your banana milk.

“Thanks for these Kookie.” You shake them in your hand. “Let’s hang out sometime later.” Say again and mutter a goodbye to both of them. Bowing again and they do the same after getting up. You miss the death glare a pair of eyes send toward Jungkook. So do they. All busy while waving good-byes.

“Bye Noona!”

“Bye Miss. Liya!”

…………………………………………..………………………..………......

“What the actual fuck do you think you are doing?” Jimin practically yells in your ear. At the very moment Jungkook and J are out of your sight. You wince visibly. “The fuck Jimin. Why are you yelling?” Take a step away from him. Frowning. Jimin opens his mouth to say something. Then decides against it and takes you in for a moment. Takes in your expression which is torn between annoyance and fear. Blows a breath out. Groans. Mumbles an apology. You’re still frowning, however. And pouting.

“Hey Lil, I’m sorry.” He apologizes again as he takes a step toward you. You take a step back.

“Fuck, Lil, I didn’t mean to yell. But you can’t just ditch your secretary and go off with random passersby.” This time he doesn’t take any steps. So, you stand your ground. “They are not some random people. You know them.” You point it out. Watch carefully to see if he remembers. He has a poker face on. “Oh, c’mon that’s J and Jungkook. We met them at the club. Hoseok knows them.” You tries again.

“I don’t care who they are Lil. Hoseok knows them, not you. Not me. You can’t just walk away with fucking strangers…” Jimin hisses through his gritted teeth. Takes a deep breath in. Places his hands in his hips. “And how the fuck you know them just because you met them at a club? You met them this one-time Lil, and you think you know them? How old are you to act like a toddler who gets lured by a candy?” His eyes land on your drink and gift. Gives you the urge to hide them behind you. You badly want to argue. That’s how people meet new people. There’s a first time for everything. Everyone is a stranger once, just like Jimin and you were. Still, you think he has a valid point. Makes sense to say that you don’t know them. It is reckless.

So, you sigh in defeat. Speaks with defiance. “All right, I got it okay?” Just don’t want to accept he is right. “But I’m not a fucking kid Jimin. I know what I’m doing. I’m an adult who can manage herself very fucking well. And fully capable of making my own decisions. And… and… they are good. I had a great fucking day.” Your actions speak the opposite of your words. Especially, when you stomp your foot on the turf. Hug your blue penguin. Jimin huffs at that. “And is very irresponsible.” Mutters.

You click your tongue. Need to turn the winning hand of this argument towards you. “Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. So, tell me Park, did you just run here looking for me? How did you even know where I am?” You feel this satisfactory bubble in your tummy to see Jimin’s annoyance instantly replaces with something akin to embarrassment. “Huh?” You push him more.

“Run here? Looking for you? What do you think? That I have nothing to do? That I have time to run after your stupid ass?” He scoffs while tilting his head to the side. “I was just passing by and saw you.” Says. Looks away from you. Then again, even when you don’t know him, you can read him well. You know he is lying. It’s very scary how you know it. No time to be scared, however. There’s a battle you’re winning. You quirk your brow. “Oh, like that? What a coincidence Park. And then you abandon your work to come here and drag my stupid ass away? How considerate of you.” You say wryly. “Were you driving through this park?” Add that question to your list. Take a good look around. “Where’s your car?” You know you’re winning.

It's very obvious that there’s no way he could just spot you while passing by. Didn’t he tell something about ditching the secretary? He needs better preparations if he plan to tell blatant lies. You keep staring at his face. With a quirky eyebrow. You can taste the win now.

And you do win when Jimin sighs heavily. “Okay, fuck, Seong called me.” Admits it finally. Shifts his eyes to yours again. Looks ashamed. Recovers quickly, however. “Are you saying I shouldn’t be worried when she told me some two passersby dragged you away. And they looked like straight out from hell.” Takes the winning side to him again. You open your mouth in annoyance. “Don’t say that. Jungkook is fucking hot. So is J-” Don’t get to finish that line when he chuckles.

“Yeah whatever.” Mutters and turns around. Starts to walk away while you stand there stupidly. Oh, the nerve of him to be like that. You catch up to him with quick steps. “So, you did run looking for me Park. Why? How did you find me?” Your trails of inquiries makes him stop. He drops his head low. Closes his eyes shut and opens them again. “I was just, worried...” His voice finally changes to soft.

“You are supposed to be Liya Lil. Don’t you think it is weird for someone so busy like her to just run away with two kids? And you had Seong cancel a very important lunch because you and I have plans, and then you toss them away and go with a random man? How does that might seem to people?” He is making sense again. You hate it when he makes sense. And there’s part of you, feel that twisted ache to know he was worried about your pretense ruining. Not about you. Just like you thought. You guessed that might be the reason, yes. Yet it doesn’t hurt any less. “And you didn’t even bother to give me a fucking call?” Asks again at your silence. You force yourself to push that ache away.

“Sorry I was irresponsible. But I already told you I’m not gonna use Liya’s phone for anything else than calling the driver.” You did say that when he gave you the phone. A good thing since it aids you in winning. You don’t want to win anymore though.

“Why are you so stubborn? Then you should have answered my calls.” Jimin turns completely to face you.

He called you?

“I put the phone on silent. Sorry.” You mumble. This time it’s you who walks away, leaving him to stand there stupidly.

………………………………..…………………………..………………......

You look around the high-end store filled with various electronic devices. The shop is in the same mall you once visited with Taehyung and his poor girlfriend. You and Jimin stepped onto friendly ground back again, while you were on your way. It was him doing most of the talking until you cracked up to one of his silly jokes, however. Still, you are not that friendly. There’s a residue of an unpleasant argument lingering between you. A residue that can easily ignite the fire again in any moment. That’s why you wish he had brought you home instead of here.

A boy in a white cap, who had disappeared somewhere inside the store, emerges in front of you again. A white box in his hand. He hands that box to Jimin over the counter with a pleasant smile on his lips. Jimin takes it. You look at the huge QS printed on the box lid. Nobody has to be a genius to know that it’s a phone. And definitely you don’t have to be a prophet to see what he is about to do.

“Why do you need a phone?” You very suspiciously and annoyingly lean toward his ear. At the same time, he unboxes the box and a sleek mobile comes to your sight. Jimin ignores you completely. Instead, talks with the cute boy in the white cap like you don’t exist. So, you wait patiently until the boy fumbles with the phone. Setting it up. And finally, slip the phone toward you this time. You’re not surprised at all. You knew Jimin was doing this all along. From the very moment you enter this shop. Stayed silent because you didn’t want to jump into conclusions. And make a fool out of yourself. That doesn’t mean; however, that you’re not allowed to fume with sudden rage.

You push the phone back toward the boy before you turn to Jimin. “You’re not buying me a damn phone Park. I don’t want it. I’ll buy my own after I find a job.” You state as sternly as you could. Jimin gives you a very unimpressed glance.

“What job?” Asks cockily.

“The job I’ll find soon.”

“Well, pay me back when you find that job then.” Says causally. Pulls his wallet out. “She is buying that.” This time says to the boy. It’s a very sudden reaction how you grab on to Jimin’s hand quickly. “No, I am not. I’ll buy my own. I mean it.” Hiss through your teeth. Trying so bad not to cause a seen here.

Jimin’s unimpressed look changes into a pissed off one. “Jesus Lil. Why do you always have to be so fucking stubborn? Just take it and pay me back.” He shrugs his hand free from your vice grip. Takes that same golden card out. Pushes it to the boy, who looks like he is currently watching a cringy comedy movie. The last of your concerns right now though. So, you nudge Jimin out of the way. “No, don’t make the payment. I’m not buying it.” Say to the boy. Practically leaning toward him over the counter. Ready to snatch the card away. “She fucking is.” Jimin grunts that out. Behind you. Just before his hands slips around your chest. Under your breasts and around your rib cage. And lifts you up like you weigh nothing. A yelp escapes your mouth as he turns you away from the counter.

Did he fucking lift you up like that?

You go through a split second of shock. Mouth agape and eyes wide. Only for a half second though. When that half second passes you are seeing red. “What the fucking hell Park Jimin. Put me the fuck down.” You are hissing like an angry old cat.

“Stop being stubborn like a goat then.” Jimin hisses. His grip tightening.

You can fight his grip. Of course, you can. At least try to do so. The thing is you can see two women gaping at you with disgust, from your reddened peripherals. It’s shameless to act this way in public. You think it’ll be worse for Jimin. So, you just take a deep breath in. Ask him to put you down again, in a much calmer voice. He relents. Keeps his hands around you anyway. You give up.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Park.” Mutter under your breath. Yet you know he heard that.

He chuckles.

…………………………………………………………..……………...........

The sky was already dark when you exited the lavish shopping mall. Not uncommon to face sudden rainfall during the last month of the year. At least not uncommon in your world. You guess it applies in this world as well. That’s how you find yourself, sitting on a bench in front of a convenience store. Savoring an ice cream bar. Staring into the water drops kissing the earth graciously. Your anger evaporates due to the coldness in your tongue. Blending with the cold rain drops. And washing away. You feel calm now. Much calmer than before Jimin bribed you with the idea of sweet treats. How weird that he knows how to handle your moods. Is it because of Liya?

It's not that you’re completely on good terms with him now. Still, it feels relaxing to be here. With Jimin’s warmth next to you. The warmth that fight against the coldness of your ice cream and winter air. And rain. The warmth that is enough to melt you down. The warmth that is like an invitation to lean against him. You don’t. Think it’ll be too much. Him just sitting next to you is enough. As weird as it sounds. You like this feeling. Like the way cold breaths swirls inside your lungs. Like the smell of the rain. It’s better when you can smell Jimin’s earthy cologne. What a combination. Jimin and rain. You like the way his knee is touching yours. Like the small electrocutions it sends through your body. You like being next to him. How scary?

You take a look at him. Apparently, he didn’t want any ice cream. But it’s very odd and wrong to eat by yourself.

“Are you sure you don’t want some?”

“Why are you taking that stupid toy with you everywhere?”

You both ask at the same time. Fall into silence. His eyes land on your ice cream, which you’re holding in front of his mouth. Yours land on the blue plushie, which is clutched by your other hand. You are about to answer that when Jimin takes a bite from the ice cream. Makes you grin. Puts you in a good mood. You take your hand and the ice cream back. Inspect the plushie.

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” Show it to him.

“Cute my foot.” Jimin looks away. Your good mood sours. Grin disappears. “Yah! Don’t be fucking mean. It’s cute. Besides, it’s a gift.” You clutch the plushie tight again. Jimin doesn’t look at you. “From who? Jungkook?” Asks in a very passive-aggressive tone. You hum in reply to that question. So, he looks at you. Scoffs. “It’s fine when he buys you something but it’s not when I do?” Gestures to his chest with his finger.

“Oh, c’mon. We both know that’s not the same. This is a fucking… I mean a fucking adorable plushie. Not an expensive phone.” You hold the toy higher. Brandishes it.

“So what? You want me to buy you a toy?” Jimin’s expression morphs into something aggressively endearing.

“No… I don’t… Let’s not talk about you buying me things, Jimin.” You ignore the way Jimin is at wit’s end. “He didn’t buy me this. He won me this.” Say before going back to taste your ice cream. Jimin snaps his head toward you at that.

“Oh yeah? Like it must have been fucking hard.”

“Of course, it’s hard. You know these claw machine shits are rigged right? So, it’s hard to get a price.” You don’t know why you are defending Jungkook. Maybe, you’re enjoying the adorable bewilderment in Jimin’s face. A little too much. Like always.

“I can win something for you too then.” Jimin blurts that out. It’s you who snap your head to him now. His wide eyes tell you that he didn’t mean to say that aloud. It’s out in the air anyway now. Not that he can turn the time around. You gape at him in pure disbelief for a minute.

Why on the earth does he wants to win something for you? Is he jealous? Can’t be. Probably Jungkook is pinching his man ego. Yeah, that must be it. You’re certain. Hence, your loud snort and the head shake. Just because you find it hilarious that Jimin is getting riled up and competitive with a man who he doesn’t even know properly. Jimin, on the other hand, gasps loudly at your reaction. Apparently, reads you wrong.

“What? You think I can’t?”

“No, I didn’t say that, Park.” You give him a horrified look. Your playful mood vanishing to the cold air.

“You don’t need to use words all the time Lil.” He mutters irritated. That makes you feel really bad. Wasn’t your intention to belittle him at all. Are about to explain when he stops you. “Don’t say a word. C’mon we are going, and I’ll show you what I can.” He is already in his feet. Your horrified and saddened expression turns into a judgmental one. Is he serious? He calls you a toddler then acts like this. His irritation spreads to you.

“Are you serious Jimin? Can’t you see it’s fucking raining?” You point out the obvious. Don’t make an effort to stand up. He says nothing but gapes at you. Pushes you to snap. He annoys you to no end. But in a good way.

You don’t want him to do anything to be honest. It’s just he is getting on your nerves by acting childishly. Maybe, you match his energy just fine. You both are childish.

“Okay, fine. You’re fucking ridiculous.” You stand up. Go closer to him. Brain searching for a good idea to challenge him. That’s when your eyes lands on the plum tree behind him. A winter-blooming plum tree. There’s not many blooms. Just one. Out of reach of the hand. Will need little more than jumping to pluck it.

There you go!

A wicked grin breaks out on your face. See, childish. Point your finger toward it. Jimin turns around to see what you’re gesturing at. There’s no need to use words all the time. Indeed. He knows what you’re asking for. Gives you a bewildered look again. “You want me to fuckin pick a plum bloom for you? How’s that similar to winning anything?” Pulls his brows together. Squints his eyes to assess the tree.

“Well, it’s too high. You think you can pick it? That’s the challenge Park. The flower is the price.” You explain smugly.

It's weirdly stupid. Your challenge. Yet is better than watching Jimin lose his entire wealth on a claw machine. Just because some random kid hurt his ego. How pathetic. He sighs heavily. Takes his time and just when you are about thinking he just got his brain power back, he disappoints you.

“Fine, stay here.” Now his look is torn between stubbornness and reluctance. You watch him carefully when he shed his jacket off. Loosens the buttons of the dress shirt. Rolls the sleeves up. You two can be a dangerous duo together, can’t you? Is he really going to get drenched just because of a stupid challenge? Maybe you should cut him some slack. Convince him not to get drenched in the rain. Don’t want him to suffer after all.

He has already stepped into the rain, however. Stubborn. Childish. Adorable. Impish. The cold rain drops start kissing his figure graciously now. Slowly but surely soaking his warm body in coldness. He bridges the distance between the store and the tree in just five steps. Stands under the tree. Turns to look at you. His soft hair staring to fall into his face under the stream of rain. His white shirt becoming see through.

Fuck isn’t he beautiful.

There comes that tug at your heart. A painful tug. You blame it on the guilt of letting him go into the rain. That is the only thing. There’s no longing at all. No there’s none. Still, the tug is too powerful to ignore. You can’t ignore it. Makes you tremble. Makes your heart shatter. Again, in a bittersweet manner.

You find yourself being bewitched by a certain blonde man under a plum tree. He is utterly bewitching. Enchanting when he stands there in the rain. You shed your own jacket and place all your belongings on the bench. Next to Jimin’s jacket. Willingly, follow Jimin’s steps. Let the rain drops freeze your bones. Walk toward him. Never leaving his gaze. As if his eyes are the compass. Don’t take your eyes away until you’re in front of him. Can feel his warmth again. Oh, you missed that. Even for few seconds. You missed him. Turn your head up. Look at the bloom.

“Why are you here?” Jimin mumbles softly. “It’s my challenge.” Adds that too. You smile.

“It’s okay to ask for help sometime, remember? A win is a win, Park. Hoist me up. I’ll pick it, this is teamwork. Friends helping each other. What kind of a friend am I, if I don’t help you?” Takes your eyes away from the bloom. Stare into his soft brown orbs when you say it. Yes. You’re here because you’re friends. You should say the word more. That way you’ll get used to it sooner. The ache will go away soon.

Jimin just stares back into your eyes. You think you can see the stormy clouds in his eyes. Gloomy. Raise questions but he doesn’t let you ask them. “But that’s cheating.” Comes closer to you. You have to battle the urge to close your eyes at the sensation of his hot breath in your face. Battle the urge to look at his plump lips. You can feel your head start to buzz in an addictive way.

“No... It’s not.” You match his soft mumble.

“How?”

“I don’t know. Just let me help you. Hm?” Why are you whispering? You honestly don’t know how to answer his question. Or what he meant by the question. So, you allow yourself to get lost in his enchanting gaze.

Until, he distracts you by nodding. And then bending down to grab you from your hips. Lifts you up without a word. For a second time this day. Higher this time, however. Higher and higher. You stretch your hand to touch the flower. Request him to hold you little bit more high. It is a bit of a struggle. A struggle that needs to bite your bottom lip and merge your brows. In the end, still, you pluck the bloom with your fingertips. Triumphal noises leaving you.

“Got it.” You shout. Excited. Flower secure in your hand. Look down to find Jimin looking up at you. Amused glint in his eyes. Amused grin on his lips. Where are those gloomy clouds? Why do his eyes shine like that? He doesn’t put you down until you ask. But when he does, you think you shouldn’t have asked. Every minute you spend in this world, probably, is becoming the destruction of your sanity. Why do you crave his presence so much? His touches so much? Even when they are just innocent. It’s so damn hard to tear your gaze away from his glinting eyes. From his stretched lips. You do. Somehow. Hold the bloom for him. He takes it. Rolls the stem in his fingers. Now stretches his lips into a full grin. And you find yourself bewitched again. Unable to look anywhere but him. Unable to contain your own grin. So, you grin when he does. Chuckle when he does. Laugh when he does.

There’s nothing funny to laugh about. The thing is you feel content enough to laugh. Guess he feels the same. This is not normal, is it? Well, you don’t care about normalcy. Not when Jimin gives the flower back to you. Holds it out to you.

“You won that.” You never thought you could speak that softly.

“It’s a gift Spring Roll.” He places the flower behind your ear. Steals your breath away. Makes you want to cry for no reason.

Why?

Why would you cry over a stupid gift. See, it’s a stupid gift but you already know you’re going to preserve it for so long. So, so, long.

…………………………………..…………………………..………………

Jimin walks silently behind you. Just a few steps away from you. Hands in his pockets. He and you both are drenched to the core now. Initial plan was to wait until the rain eased. But your challenge changes it. Hence, your decision to walk back to the car in the rain. Jimin can’t believe he was so adamant about winning you something. Wasn’t that immature of him. It is and he knows it. He knew it. Simply was too annoyed to think things through. Or jealous.

No. Nope.

He wasn’t jealous at all. Why would he be jealous for you? Ridiculous. Nah, it was something else definitely. And he doesn’t wish to find out. It’s all fine this way. Just like it’s fine till he never tell you that he knew it was Jungkook who took you away all along. A man with muscles, tats and piercings is engraved in his mind. Fine till you never know that it wasn’t simply because he was worried that he ran looking for you. Will never tell you about the unpleasant twists in his guts he felt. About how restless he had been since the moment Liya’s secretary contacted him. You’ll never know how badly he wanted to reshape Jungkook’s sharp features when you called him ‘Kookie’.

Kookie?

You barely know the man and already call him by a nickname. And then you call Jimin, ‘Park’? Don’t you know him better than Jungkook. Oh, how he wants to punch something when that comes to his mind. He takes a deep breath in. Allowing the cold air to soothe the rage which started to bubble up inside him again.

Well, whatever happened, you’re here now aren’t you. That’s a good thing. He is the one who walks behind you. Eyes gracing over your every curve. Devouring you with his eyes. This is good and bad at the same time. He shouldn’t ogle at your figure like this. Especially, not with the thoughts whirling inside his head.

Then, how can he not? How can he look away from the way that blue skirt hugs your ass like a second skin. It’s drench material clings to your curves. It’s impossible to look away. The way your hips sway when you walk.

How fucking beautiful you are.

How fucking hot, you are. Hot in a criminal way. God, he wants to grab your ass. Knead the plump flesh in his hands. Maybe, spank. Will you like that? Will you drip down if he does that? Or to make you straddle him, and then grind on his hard dick. He wants to mold your ass cheeks when you do so. Control your movements. Have you pliant and whiney. Wants to hear his name chants through your mouth desperately. He can’t tear his gaze away now. It’s plastered into your drenched figure. His brain is malfunctioning. All the blood rushing down to his dick. Making him hard painfully.

Shit, what’s wrong with him?

The thing is, he just knows how your soft skin feels. Knows how it feels to press his hard onto your ass. Has done that before. So, it’s not possible, not to think about it. He badly wants to do it again. Grind against you. Press his hard body against your soft one. Smell your sweet scent. Fuck his dick throbs when he thinks about how you ground back on him.

Fuck, fuck this is where he should stop.

Jimin closes his eyes shut. Begging his improper sinful thoughts to go away. When he opens them back again, it slightly makes him jump to see you looking at him. With furrowed brows and pouting. Eyes narrowed. Fuck, now he doesn’t know what is worse. Is it that he wants to grind his dick against your ass. Or is it that he wants to kiss that pout away from your lips.

Holy shit! He wants to kiss you.

That urge is almost uncontrollable. Uncontrollable, when he finds you to be angelic with your stray wet hair strands framing your face. He likes how drops of water run down your beautiful features. How they gather on the tip of your nose and then fall down. It’s ethereal the way how rain kiss your lips. Unfair. He should be the one to do that. To taste it.

“What are you doing, Park? You’re not staring at my ass, are you?” You turn around. Break Jimin’s beautiful day dreams. Start walking backward. Facing him. He is grateful for the rain that you’ll not see the flush in his face. You have the flower in your hand now. Everything’s drenched. Is so glad that plushie is drenched, however.

“As if you have one to look at.” He retorts. Finding his voice hoarse. He blame it on the rain. That makes you scowl at him. And flip him off. Makes him chuckle. “Look at the road while you’re walking lady.” It isn’t that he simply worried about you tripping over something. Part of him is worried now he can see your plump lips and breasts. Good thing your sweater isn’t see through. He will definitely cross the line again. Isn’t he like a horny teenager? You should put back your coat on. Just for the sake of his sanity. You don’t. Just talk back. Say something about having a perfectly pretty ass before you turn around. He can’t argue on that. It’s pretty. Your ass. You’re pretty. Pretty it hurts. He sighs softly. Needs to stop this. You’re friends now. He has a girlfriend.

He can’t mess things up again.

He can see the car in the near distance now. You’ll reach it in probable twenty steps. There was something in his mind he wanted to ask from you all throughout the day. Couldn’t do it because of Liya’s meeting. Still, he needs to ask you to join the party. Convince you to come if you refuse. This isn’t a good time though. He calls your name anyway. Makes you turn around and stop again.

“What?” You inquire.

Jimin grabs the back of his neck with both of his hands. Watches how you carefully and suspiciously rakes your eyes on him. See, no need to use words at all. You know he is about to pull the friends card again.

“Fuck no Jimin.” You groan. Even before he opens his mouth. Nearly turn around when he grabs from your wrist.

“Oh, c’mon Spring Roll. What kind of friends are we if we don’t help each other.” Whines, ignoring your burning glare. Uses your own words against you. “Okay, if you do this me favor. I’ll help you land a job here.” Bribing you always work. Doesn’t know where that came from.

“I don’t want a job through nepotism.”

“Who said anything about nepotism. I’ll just help you to find a one. Like a good friend.” Bargains. Sees the way your mind whirls around through your eyes. “Please Lil?” One more push and you accept the defeat. Sighing heavily. Pouting. Fuck, he wants to press his lips into that pout. Wans to make you lose your breath. Taste you. Make you moan into his mouth.

“Fucking opportunistic. What is it?” You frees your hand away from his grip. Give him a moment to pull himself together. It’s not like you freed your hand. It’s he allowed you to do that. Jimin pushes himself to give you an answer. To stay focused.

“Well, you know Hoseok is throwing this new year party and-” He starts finally. Only to get disrupts by your annoyance laced honey voice.

“Jimin….”

Despite your loud and angry screech, he finds himself laughing. You’ll come. He knows that.

………………………..…………………………..…………………………..

You stare into your new phone and the plum blossom next to it. Placed on your rusty coffee table in front of your old couch. You made sure you bring them with you to your world. And were very careful not to crush the petals in your sleep. Are glad you didn’t. You pick the bloom up. Smell it. Even now, your heart is picking up the speed. You recall how Jimin looked at you under the plum tree. Standing in the rain. The glint in his eyes. His breaths. Touches.

This is so wrong. You may not do physical touches anymore. Yet it is still wrong to find your heart swoon at the sight of him. To feel so warm with him.

You sigh. Put the flower back. Maybe you should throw it away. Can you? Fuck, you can’t. It’s precious. Too precious. In the end, it’s a memory. Memory to preserve. Good or bad. Moral or immoral. It’s still precious to throw away. Like the memory of Park Jimin. Like every small moment you spent together. And the ones you’ll spend in the future. Like this party he made you agree to go.

Memories are not that easy to toss in a garbage can. Gosh, how will you ever be able to throw the memories away with Park Jimin? When this thing ends? How will you do that? The pathway you’re walking is not going to lead you to a pretty place. It’s better if you can throw the memories away from the beginning. So, it’ll be easy in the end. So, it will not hurt.

You pick the flower again.

Throw it away. No beautiful memories to preserve. No memories to hurt you in the end.

But it’s a beautiful one. It’s the memory of Jimin under the rain. It’s the beautiful memory of feeling him walking behind you. Slowly. It’s the memory of his glinting eyes and sinful smile. Park Jimin isn’t just a memory. He is a beautiful memory. A beautiful memory you can’t throw away. It hurts more to throw it away.

You get up from the couch. You can’t throw it away. Even though it’ll hurt you to look at it one day. If that’s the price, you’ll pay it. You place the bloom inside a little jewelry box. The flower will wilt away. But your memories will not. They will hurt you, but it’ll never wilt away. Will never turn ugly. Will reamin painfully beautiful.

Park Jimin will never turn ugly in your memories. He will forever remain beautiful. As a memory to preserve.

A beautiful memory.

Chapter Index

…………………………..…………………………..………………………

Taglist - @chimmy-licious @smoljimjim @graydolan12 @sugas-baby-girl @likemeforme

[veeparkersstuff]

"But the horror... The horror was for love. The things we do for love like this are ugly, mad, full of sweat and regret. This love burns you and maims you and twists you inside out. It is a monstrous love and it makes monsters of us all"- Crimson Peak🩸

👻BTS as Halloween's Movies according to ChatGPT👻

(Like or reblog, don't repost pls❤️)

[buryhny]

fan fic recommendations by AU

wattpad fics will be updated in this list too. and i'll be updating when i come across new fics.

monthly fic recs - updated each month

Jeon Jungkook fics

best friends/childhood friends AU brother's bestfriend/bestfriend's boyfriend AU bodyguard AU boxer/gangster AU ceo AU co-workers AU enemies to lovers AU exes to lovers AU fantasy AU fake dating AU fuckboy/fratboy AU friends with benefits/fuck buddies AU idol/popstar/celeb AU hybrid AU neighbors AU roommates AU strangers to lovers AU soulmates AU single parent AU teacher AU yandere AU other jobs (tattooist/baker/sugar baby/racer etc) AU

Park Jimin fics

best friends/childhood friends AU brother's bestfriend AU ceo AU college AU co-workers AU enemies to lovers AU exes to lovers AU fantasy AU fake dating AU fuckboy AU friends with benefits/fuck buddies AU idol/popstar/celeb AU hybrid AU neighbors AU parents AU single dad AU strangers to lovers AU sugar daddy AU soulmates AU yandere AU other jobs (stripper/racer/doctor/stalker etc) AU

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral

hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members

➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive

summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr

summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks

summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk

summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse

summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates

summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story

➺ tempest - by @kooktrash

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga

summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.

➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia

summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess

➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover

summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.

[army-geniuslab]

When you look for a fic on Tag Reader and the main character already has a name and social security number...

[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.

[flux1563]

Unforgettable Kidnapping ft Karina

Words : 9k

Tags : first time squirting, first time BBC

Karina stepped out of her apartment into the dimly lit hallway, her heels clicking rhythmically against the cold, tiles. She was a creature of habit, meticulous in her routines. The scent of last night's dinner lingered faintly in the corridor, hinting at the lives hidden behind the doors she passed. Her neighbor, a towering figure of a man, lived in apartment 3B. She had never seen his face clearly, just the outline of his massive form as he moved behind his half-closed door or the shadow he cast when passing by. His very presence was a constant reminder of the vastness of the world, a stark contrast to the confined space of their shared floor.

The neighbor, Mr. Y/n, was a mystery to her. His deep, rumbling voice echoed through the walls at odd hours, but he was always polite when they did cross paths, his eyes never meeting hers. His hand, the one time she had shaken it, was like a glove enveloping her own. It was a hand that could easily crush her, and she had felt the strength in his grip. His skin was dark as midnight, a stark contrast to the pale walls, and his height made the ceiling seem lower, the walls narrower.

The hallway was a silent companion to her solitude, a place where whispers of other lives melded with her own quiet existence. The light from the flickering bulb cast a warm, but eerie glow, throwing elongated shadows on the floor that danced with her steps. Karina had always felt safe in her solitude, a cocoon woven by the predictable patterns of her daily life. The office was a five-minute walk away, and she liked the anonymity it offered, the way she could blend in with the urban landscape outside her door.

But tonight, as she approached the stairs, she felt a prickle of unease. The building was unnaturally still. The usual murmur of distant TVs and muffled conversations was absent. The air felt thick, charged with an energy that made her want to hurry, to escape the oppressive quiet. She glanced at Mr. Y/n's door, a sliver of light peeking through the gap at the bottom. Her heart skipped a beat. She told herself it was just the silence playing tricks on her, that she was being silly. But she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. She quickened her pace, her hand hovering over the banister, ready to flee back to the safety of her apartment if needed.

The moment she passed his door, it swung open with a heavy creak. A hand, much larger than she had ever imagined, reached out and wrapped around her upper arm, pulling her into the apartment with surprising gentleness. She gasped, her eyes widening in terror as she stumbled into the room, the door clicking shut behind her. The hand belonged to Mr. Y/n. He stood before her, his face now fully visible in the soft glow of a single lamp. His eyes searched hers, a mix of curiosity and something she couldn't quite place.

The room was unlike anything she had expected. It was meticulously organized, almost obsessively clean. The walls were lined with bookshelves, their contents ranging from classic literature to tomes on physics and astronomy. In the corner, a grand piano gleamed, a stark contrast to the worn-out sofa in the center. His hand released her arm, and she stumbled backward, her eyes darting around the room, seeking an escape.

Now in front of Karina, y/n is standing.His body is very large, Karina's height only reaches his chest, his shoulders are very broad, and his palms are bigger than her body.

"What are you going to do, what do you want?"Karina dared to ask with trembling lips in fear."I won't hurt you if you don't resist," he answered Karina's question.

"What does it mean?"Karina asked again.All this time, y/n has been very attracted to Karina; she is his ideal type, with a big chest, a slim waist, and a big butt.Y/n has only been watching Karina from the shadows and he can no longer hold back his feelings."I will be honest, I like you Karina," he said, answering Karina's question again."I already have a boyfriend," Karina replied, lying.He knew that Karina was lying because he had dug up all the information about her, living alone in an apartment, working in an office near the apartment, and of course, he knew that Karina was still single."Don't lie, Karina, I know everything about you, besides, I don't accept rejection," he said to her.

He led her to the sofa, his hand still covering her mouth. She tried to struggle but his grip was firm, leaving her no room to escape. His eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze making her feel more exposed than she ever had before.

With surprising agility for a man of his size, Y/N bent down and, in one swift motion, tore Karina's shirt clean off her body. The fabric ripped easily, leaving her in just her lacy bra. She felt the coolness of the room on her bare skin and her heart raced.

Karina's eyes widened in shock and fear as she took in the sight of her torn shirt on the floor. The room spun around her, the books and furniture becoming a blur. She tried to push away the panic rising in her chest, telling herself to stay calm and think of a way out of this situation.

Y/N took a step back and admired his handiwork. His eyes traveled over her body, drinking in every inch of exposed flesh. The desire in his gaze made her feel like a piece of meat on display, and she shivered despite the warmth of the room. He sat down next to her, his leg brushing against hers, sending waves of terror through her body.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. "I've wanted this for a long time, Karina," he whispered, his voice a mix of excitement and determination. She could feel the weight of his body beside her, the heat radiating from his skin. Her mind raced for a solution, a way to get out of this nightmare without succumbing to his twisted desires.

The sound of his voice sent chills down Karina's spine. She could feel his breath on her neck, and she knew she had to act fast. Summoning all her strength, she pushed him away with all her might. The sofa screeched against the wooden floor as she stood up, but Y/N was quicker. He grabbed her by the wrists, his grip unyielding.

"Let me go!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls. But the only response she got was a low chuckle from Y/N. He pulled her closer, his face a mask of excitement.

"If you keep trying to escape, I'll make you faint," he threatened, his grip tightening around her wrists. Karina felt her pulse racing, her heart hammering in her chest. His strength was overwhelming, and she knew she was no match for him physically.

Her thoughts raced. If she could just keep him talking, maybe she could find a way out of this. "Okay," she said, her voice shaking. "I will do what you want, as long as you let me go afterward." It was a desperate bid for time, a hope that she could somehow convince him to change his mind.

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "As you wish," he said, his voice low and gruff. He pointed to the mirror in the corner of the room, the glass reflecting the dim lamplight. "Now, take off your bra and panties and masturbate over there," he instructed, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that made her stomach turn.

Karina's cheeks flushed with humiliation, but she knew she had to play along. She took a deep breath and began to unclasp her bra, her eyes never leaving his. The fabric fell away, revealing her bare breasts to the cold air. She tried to keep her movements as slow and deliberate as possible, buying herself every second she could.

Her hands trembled as she slid her panties down her legs, stepping out of them. She felt the floor against her bare skin and took a tentative step towards the mirror. Her eyes caught her reflection, and she saw the fear and desperation in her own eyes. She took another deep breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to focus on the task at hand.

Y/N watched her with rapt attention, his breathing heavy. "Look at me," he demanded. She opened her eyes and met his gaze in the mirror. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. "You have to masturbate until you orgasm, don't you dare lie," he threatened. The words sent a wave of revulsion through her, but she knew she had to play along.

Her hands began to move over her breasts, the sensation strange under his command. She had never felt so out of control, so exposed. As she touched herself, her body responded in ways she didn't expect. The fear began to mix with something else, something primal and unwelcome.

The minutes stretched into hours, or so it seemed to Karina. Her body was a vessel for his perverse pleasure, and she had become an instrument of his will. The orgasms came in waves, each more intense than the last. Her legs quivered, and she felt a sheen of sweat cover her skin. She didn't know how much more she could take, but he showed no signs of stopping.

"Faster," he growled, his voice sending tremors through her. She obeyed, her fingers moving in a blur as she watched herself in the mirror. The sight was surreal, a twisted reflection of herself that she barely recognized. Her mind was foggy with pleasure and pain, the line between the two blurring more with each passing second.

As she approached another peak, she could feel the ache in her core, a hunger that grew with each passing moment. Her own fingers weren't enough; she craved something more substantial, something that would fill her completely. Her thoughts strayed to his massive frame, the bulge in his pants that she had been trying to ignore.

Karina's cheeks flushed with shame as she found herself imagining his cock, thick and hard, taking her. Her eyes fluttered shut as she came again, the sound of her cries muffled by the hand still clamped over her mouth. When she opened them, she saw the approval in his gaze, and it only made her feel more degraded.

"You're a good girl," he praised her, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the very air around them. "Now, I'm going to let go of your wrists. If you stop, I'll know. And I won't be happy."

Her hands didn't stop moving, even when he released her. The need was too great now, the craving a living thing that demanded to be satisfied. Her eyes remained locked with his in the mirror, the only connection in this twisted dance of power and submission.

The room spun around her, the books and furniture becoming a blur. The only thing in focus was his hungry stare, the way his tongue traced the outline of his teeth as he watched her. Karina's mind raced, searching for a way out, but her body was trapped in a cycle of pleasure and pain that she couldn't escape.

"Please," she whimpered, her voice barely audible. "Y/N, give me your cock."

The words hung in the air like a confession, raw and desperate. He smirked, a victory shining in his eyes. "You have to ask for it," he said, his voice a taunt.

Karina felt the bile rise in her throat as she forced out the words. "Please, Y/N," she begged, her voice shaking. "Let me suck your cock."

The smirk on his face grew wider, and he leaned back on the sofa, his grip on her wrists loosening slightly. "Good girl," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now, get down on your knees and show me how much you want it."

Karina felt a mix of fear and anger swirl in her stomach, but she knew that resisting would only make things worse. Slowly, she sank to her knees, the cold floor sending a jolt of reality through her body. She could see the bulge in his pants, the fabric straining against his erection. Her mouth went dry at the thought of what was to come.

"Good," he said, his voice a low growl. "Now, tell me how much you want to degrade yourself for me."

Karina's stomach churned at the command, but she knew resistance was futile. She took a deep, shaky breath and whispered, "I want to degrade myself for you, Y/N." The words felt like acid on her tongue, but she forced them out, her eyes never leaving his in the mirror.

He leaned forward, his massive frame towering over her. "I want to hear you say it," he demanded, his voice a dark caress. "Say it like you mean it."

Her voice barely above a whisper, Karina repeated, "Please, let your slut suck your dick." The words tasted bitter, but she knew they were the key to unlocking this twisted game.

Y/N's smirk grew wider, and he released her wrists completely. She felt the weight of his gaze as she reached for his pants, her trembling fingers fumbling with the zipper. She took a deep breath and pulled them down, exposing his boxers. His erection strained against the fabric, and she swallowed hard.

When she pulled them down, revealing his cock in all its glory, she gasped. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. It was massive, thick and veiny, the head a dark purple that looked almost painful. It was the stuff of her darkest fantasies, but in this moment, it was a weapon of fear.

Karina's eyes went wide with shock. This was no porn star's cock; it was a beast that could split her in two. She felt a mix of dread and arousal as she took it in her hands, feeling the warmth and weight of it. It was the ultimate symbol of his power over her, and she couldn't help but feel a twisted fascination with it.

Her hand looked so small, almost comical, wrapped around his girth.

"How long and girth?" Karina asked, her voice quivering slightly, as she stared at the massive organ before her. It was a question that had been burning in the back of her mind since she first caught sight of it, a question she didn't dare voice aloud. Y/N chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror.

"12 inches long, 6 inches thick," he said with a smugness that made Karina's stomach drop. She had heard of such sizes in her wildest fantasies, but to actually see one, to feel its weight in her own hand, was almost too much to bear.

Y/N took her hand and wrapped it around his cock, showing her how to grip it properly. His skin was velvety smooth, the head swollen and shiny with pre-cum. He guided her other hand to cup his balls, showing her how to handle them gently. His breathing grew heavier as she touched him, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror.

"Open your mouth," he instructed, his voice thick with desire. Karina obeyed, her heart racing. He brought the tip of his cock to her lips, the smell of him musky and overwhelming. She took a tentative lick, tasting the salty precursor to what was to come. He groaned in approval, his hand guiding her to take more of him in.

He pushed into her mouth, inch by agonizing inch. She gagged, her eyes watering, but she didn't stop. She knew that if she did, it would only make things worse. His hand was in her hair now, pulling gently but insistently. She focused on breathing through her nose, her cheeks hollowing as she took him deeper.

The sensation of his cock filling her mouth was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was all she could do to keep her teeth from scraping his shaft, to keep her gag reflex at bay. He watched her in the mirror, his expression a mix of pleasure and concentration.

"Look at me," he murmured, and she did, her eyes watering. He began to move, fucking her mouth with a slow, steady rhythm. She could feel his cock sliding over her tongue, the head of it brushing the back of her throat. She tried to relax, to take him deeper, but it was a battle she was losing.

He pulled out slightly, giving her a moment to breathe. "Good girl," he said, his voice a caress. "Now, let me show you how it's done." He leaned back, stroking himself slowly, watching her with a hungry gaze.

Karina felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. She wanted to hate this, wanted to fight against the waves of pleasure that crashed through her body every time she thought of his cock inside her. But she couldn't. It was as if she had been programmed to crave this, to need it more than anything else.

He stood up, his cock swaying slightly with the movement. "On your knees," he ordered, his voice firm. She complied, her eyes never leaving his. He stepped closer, positioning himself in front of her.

"Now, watch and learn," he said, and she did. His hand moved in a blur, stroking his cock with a practiced ease that made her mouth water. His other hand reached out, caressing her cheek, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw.

He began to speak, his words a mix of instruction and seduction. "You need to relax your throat, let it open for me. Take it slow, don't rush." His voice was a purr, a siren's song that beckoned her closer.

Karina leaned in, her eyes glued to the sight before her. She took him back into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock. He groaned, his hand tightening in her hair. "That's it," he murmured, his eyes half-closed with pleasure.

As he fucked her mouth, she felt something shift within her. The fear and anger began to melt away, replaced by a burning need to please him. It was as if she had been waiting for this moment, as if this was what she had been born to do.

Her mind was a haze of pleasure and pain as she took him deeper and deeper. The only thing that mattered was his cock, the feel of him in her mouth, the taste of him on her tongue. She was his, completely and utterly, and she didn't want it to end.

The tension in his body grew, his movements becoming more erratic. She could feel his orgasm building, the muscles in his thighs tensing. He pulled out of her mouth with a wet pop, his cock glistening with her saliva.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice thick with need. She did, her eyes wide with anticipation. He stroked himself, his hand moving faster and faster.

"Gluk gluk gluk," was the only sound Karina's mouth could produce as she stared, mesmerized by the sight of his cock. It was a wet, sloppy sound, a testament to the saliva that coated his shaft. Her own need grew, a desperate ache that made her want to beg for more.

Y/N's hand moved with purpose, the sound of his fist sliding along his cock a symphony of desire. Karina's eyes were glued to the sight, her own breathing matching his rhythm. The veins in his cock stood out, pulsing with each stroke.

"I'm going to come," he warned her, his voice strained. Karina nodded, her eyes never leaving his. She was his, and she would take it all.

With a roar, he exploded, his cum spurting into her mouth. She swallowed, her eyes watering from the sheer volume of it. It was like nothing she had ever tasted before, a mix of salt and musk that filled her mouth and coated her throat.

He came for what felt like an eternity, his cock pulsing with every spurt. She took it all, her cheeks bulging with his seed. When he was finished, she licked her lips, savoring the taste of him.

Karina felt a strange mix of satisfaction and humiliation, a heady cocktail that went straight to her head. She had never been used like this before, and she had never wanted it more.

Y/N's grip on her hair loosened, and she looked up at him, her eyes glazed with lust. He reached down and wiped the remaining cum from her face, his thumb sliding over her bottom lip. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice a gentle praise that made her heart flutter.

The room was silent except for their ragged breaths. Karina felt a strange sense of peace wash over her, as if she had just passed some sort of twisted test.

"Now," he said, his voice a low rumble. "It's time for the real fun to begin." He picked her up effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist. Her heart raced as he carried her to the bedroom, the anticipation of what was to come making her wet with need.

He laid her down on the bed, his massive body looming over her. The mattress sank under their combined weight, the springs groaning in protest. His eyes never left hers as he spread her legs wide, the light from the lamp casting shadows over her exposed flesh.

With a predatory grace, he descended upon her, his tongue parting her folds. Karina gasped as he began to lick her, his tongue swirling and darting in a way that made her hips buck off the bed. She had never felt anything so intense, so all-consuming. It was as if every nerve in her body was focused solely on the sensation of his mouth on her most sensitive spot.

His tongue felt like fire against her clit, the pressure building with each pass. She moaned, her hands clutching the bed sheets in a desperate attempt to anchor herself to reality. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her breath coming in ragged gasps as he devoured her.

The room was filled with the sounds of his wet, hungry mouth and her own desperate cries. The scent of their mingling arousal was thick in the air, a heady aroma that only served to drive her higher. She could feel her orgasm building, a wave that threatened to crash over her and sweep her away.

"Oh, God," she moaned, her voice hoarse from the effort of speaking. "Y/N, I'm going to come."

He didn't stop, didn't even look up from between her legs. Instead, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue moving faster, pressing harder. She could feel the tension in her body coiling tighter and tighter, a spring wound to its breaking point.

And then, with a scream that seemed to rip from her very soul, she came. Her body convulsed, her muscles clenching around his tongue. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

Y/N pulled away, his face glistening with her juices. He gave her a smug look, his eyes dark with lust. "Good," he said. "Very good."

Karina lay there, her body still shaking with the aftershocks of her climax. She had never felt so utterly dominated, so completely owned. And yet, she wanted more.

"Have you ever squirted?" Y/N asked, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. Karina shook her head, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He chuckled, a deep, dark sound that sent a thrill through her.

"Let's change that," he murmured, his tongue delving deeper into her folds. He was relentless, his movements precise and calculated. Karina could feel the tension building again, her body responding to his touch with an eagerness that shocked and excited her.

His fingers found her g-spot, pressing and curling in a way that made her eyes roll back. She was so close, so close to something she had only read about, something she had never dared hope to experience. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she could feel her body tightening around him.

"Come for me," he said, his voice a command that she couldn't ignore. And with a scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, she did. Her body spasmed, her muscles clenching and releasing in waves of pure pleasure. She could feel the warmth of her release flooding out, soaking the bed beneath her.

Y/N's eyes never left hers as she squirted, the expression on his face a mix of awe and hunger. He watched her with the intensity of a predator, his tongue still working her clit with a skill that was almost unbelievable. The sensation was too much, and she felt herself being pushed to the brink of consciousness.

"Ahhhh... It is so good, fuck," Karina moaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation. The feeling of release was unlike anything she had ever experienced, a powerful, all-consuming orgasm that seemed to shake the very core of her being. She bucked her hips upward, her body begging for more of his touch.

Y/N's eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger as he watched her climax, his own desire clear in the bulge of his pants. Without missing a beat, he slid two fingers into her soaking wet pussy, his movements deliberate and slow. She gasped, the sudden intrusion making her body tense again.

He began to pump his fingers in and out of her, his thumb rubbing her clit in slow circles. The sensation was overwhelming, the aftershocks of her orgasm mixing with the building tension of a new one. "Do you want more, Karina?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper that seemed to echo in the room.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she could only nod in response, the words lost in the haze of pleasure. He took it as an affirmation and began to pick up the pace, his fingers moving faster and deeper. She could feel her walls clenching around him, her body greedily taking all that he had to give.

Karina's moans grew louder, her breath coming in pants as she approached the peak once more. Her eyes remained locked with his in the mirror, the sight of his powerful body above her, his fingers working their magic, only serving to fuel her desire. She had never felt so alive, so in the moment.

Her hips began to move with his rhythm, her body instinctively seeking out the sensation that she knew would push her over the edge. His thumb pressed harder against her clit, and she could feel her orgasm building, a storm gathering on the horizon.

"Yes, yes, I want more," she finally managed to gasp out, her voice a desperate plea. He smirked, a knowing look in his eye that said he had her exactly where he wanted her. He added a third finger, stretching her even further. The sensation was almost too much to handle, but she craved it.

Her muscles tightened around his fingers, her pussy squeezing and releasing in a frantic dance. His movements grew more urgent, his own breathing ragged with the effort of holding back. The bedrock of tension within her shuddered, and she knew she was on the brink of something incredible.

With a final, powerful thrust, he hit her g-spot, and she screamed as the orgasm crashed over her. Her body arched off the bed, her back bowing as wave after wave of pleasure consumed her. It was as if she was being torn apart from the inside out, reborn in a sea of ecstasy.

Y/N watched her with a satisfied expression, his own need palpable in the air. He slowly removed his fingers, his gaze never leaving hers. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

The room spun around her, the only anchor the sound of his voice. She was lost in a whirlwind of sensation, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her release. And yet, she could feel the hunger building again, a need that was insatiable.

Y/N's voice grew more urgent. "Now get all on four," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. Karina's legs felt like jelly, but she managed to push herself up onto her knees. Her breasts bounced with the movement, her nipples hard and sensitive. The fabric of the bed was rough against her skin, the friction adding to the delicious ache between her legs.

He positioned himself behind her, his breath hot against the back of her neck. "Spread your legs," he said, his voice a low growl. She felt his cock brush against her inner thigh, and she couldn't help but whimper. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

Without warning, she felt his tongue slide along her slit, the sensation so intense that it made her jolt. He chuckled, his breath warm and damp against her skin. "Relax," he murmured, his tongue delving deeper into her folds. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes squeezed shut as she focused on the feeling of him tasting her, licking her, consuming her.

He teased her mercilessly, his tongue flicking and swirling around her clit. She could feel her body tightening again, the pressure building. It was as if he had unlocked a secret part of her that she had never known existed. She was his plaything, and she loved every second of it.

He took his time, savoring her taste, driving her to the brink of insanity. Every time she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he would ease back, only to plunge in again with renewed vigor. Her hips rocked back against his face, her body begging for more.

"Oh God," she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm going to come again."

He didn't answer, just kept licking, his tongue now moving in slow, deliberate strokes that made her pussy clench around his fingers. He added a fourth digit, and she cried out, the sensation of being so filled, so stretched, making her feel like she was going to break apart.

But she didn't break. Instead, she shattered into a million pieces, her orgasm so intense that she saw stars. Her pussy spasmed around his hand, her juices flooding out of her.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, she felt his cock pressing against her opening. He was so thick, so hard, that she could feel herself stretching around him, her muscles protesting.

He didn't give her time to adjust, just pushed inside with one swift movement that made her scream. The pain was immediate, but it quickly gave way to a deep, intense pleasure that stole her breath away.

"Fuck, so big," Karina moaned, her voice high-pitched and desperate. "I'm going to cum."

Y/N's laugh was dark and triumphant. "You're such a slut, Karina," he said, his voice a sneer. "Already cumming from initial penetration. You're just like all the others."

The pain was intense, a burning sensation that made her want to pull away, but she knew better. She pushed back into him, taking him deeper, the heat of his body against hers making her skin tingle. "It's because your cock is so fucking big," she managed to say through gritted teeth, her voice thick with lust.

He began to move, his hips pumping into her with a slow, steady rhythm that made her moan. The pain morphed into something else, something dark and delicious that had her panting for more. Her nails dug into the bed, her body moving in time with his, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through her.

"Fuck, yes," she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls. "I can feel it in my stomach!" The intensity was almost too much to handle, but she reveled in it, her body stretching to accommodate his massive size. His hands were on her hips, guiding her, holding her in place as he claimed her.

Y/N's grip tightened, and with a smack, he slapped her ass. The sound was sharp, punctuating the rhythm of their fucking. Karina's eyes widened in surprise, but the pain was quickly followed by a burst of pleasure that had her pussy clenching around him even harder.

"Do you like it when my big cock destroys your pussy, slut?" he growled, his voice thick with desire. She could feel his hand tense before the next smack, the anticipation sending a shiver down her spine.

"Ahh, yes, Y/N," Karina gasped as the pain flared up again, her ass stinging from the impact. But it was a sweet, delicious pain, one that only added to the intense pleasure building within her. She pushed back against him, her body begging for more, the bulge of his cock pressing into her abdomen with each powerful thrust.

He didn't hold back, his hips slamming into her with a force that made the bed creak in protest. Her breasts bounced with each impact, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through her body. She could feel the head of his cock brushing against her cervix, a feeling that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"Ahh, your cock is bulging under my stomach," Karina managed to gasp out, her voice strained with the effort of speaking. She could feel his length stretching her to the limits, filling her completely. The pain in her ass was a constant throb, a reminder of the power he held over her.

Y/N chuckled, his voice dark and filled with satisfaction. "Squirt for my cock, Karina," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. She didn't know how she could possibly come again, but the command in his voice made her body respond, her pussy clenching around him.

He began to fuck her harder, his cock pistoning in and out of her with a force that left her gasping. She could feel herself building again, the pressure in her belly growing until it was almost unbearable. And then, with a scream that echoed through the apartment, she did it.

Her pussy spasmed, and she squirted all over his cock, the force of it pushing him out of her. It was like a geyser, a torrent of fluid that soaked the bed beneath them. Y/N's eyes widened, and he stared at her, his own arousal clear on his face. "Again," he demanded, and she nodded, her body already responding to his command.

He slammed back into her, his cock slipping into her easily despite her tightness. She could feel the head of his cock pressing against her g-spot, the sensation sending her over the edge once more. She squirted again, the force of it pushing him almost out of her.

This time, he was ready. He held her hips down, his grip bruising, as he kept pumping into her. Her pussy convulsed around him, the feeling of her release gripping him in a vice-like hold. He groaned, his own orgasm building within him.

"Fuck, you're so good," he grunted, his hips moving faster and faster. "So fucking good." His hand reached around, his thumb pressing hard against her clit as he drove into her. She could feel her body responding, the walls of her pussy clamping down on him, her juices flowing like a river.

With one final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her. She felt his cock pulse, his warm cum filling her up. The sensation of being so full, of being claimed so completely, sent her over the edge again. Her body tensed, her pussy spasming around him as she came, the force of her orgasm pushing his cum out of her, mixing with her squirt.

The room was a symphony of their moans and the slap of skin against skin. Karina's vision swam, her body shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. Y/N pulled out of her, his cock still twitching with the last vestiges of his climax. He stared down at her, his chest heaving.

"You're mine," he said, his voice a possessive growl. "You will always come for me, no matter how much you resist."

Karina collapsed onto the bed, her body limp and spent. She knew he was right. Some twisted part of her craved this, the feeling of being used and dominated by him. She was his, and she never wanted to leave this bed, this apartment, his control.

Y/N leaned down, his mouth capturing hers in a bruising kiss. She could taste herself on his lips, the flavor of her own arousal mixing with the salt of his sweat. His tongue danced with hers, claiming her mouth just as thoroughly as he had claimed her body.

When he pulled away, she was left gasping for air, her eyes glazed with lust. "What's next?" she whispered, her voice a needy plea.

He smiled, a cold, cruel smile that sent a shiver down her spine. "Now," he said, "we're going to see just how much you can take."

He reached into the nightstand, pulling out a set of handcuffs. The metal was cold against her wrists as he secured them to the bed frame, her heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement.

"You're going to scream for me," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "And I'm going to enjoy every single second of it."

The room grew colder, the only warmth the fire that raged in her belly. She was his toy, his to do with as he pleased, and she wouldn't have it any other way. As the cuffs clicked into place, she knew that she was in for a night she would never forget.

He stood over her, his cock still hard and glistening with their combined fluids. "Ready?" he asked, a glint in his eye.

Karina took a deep breath, nodded, and whispered, "Yes, Y/N. I'm ready." Her heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of what was to come making her body tremble. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But she also felt alive, more alive than she had in a long time.

Y/N picked up a flogger from the bedside table, the leather strands shimmering in the soft light. He trailed it gently across her skin, and she flinched at the touch. "This will hurt," he warned her, his voice a dark promise. "But you will take it. You will take it for me."

Her breath hitched as he brought the flogger down across her back, the leather biting into her flesh. It stung, the pain sharp and intense. But she didn't scream. Instead, she moaned, the sound of her own pleasure mixing with the pain. Each strike brought a new wave of sensation, a dance of agony and ecstasy that she couldn't get enough of.

He worked his way down, the flogger landing on her ass with a satisfying thwack. She felt the skin there warm and redden, the sting of each hit making her pussy clench with need. "Y/N," she moaned, her voice a desperate plea.

He leaned down, his mouth by her ear. "You're doing so well," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "But we're just getting started." He paused, the room silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing.

And then he struck again, the leather strands wrapping around her body and biting into her skin. She cried out, her body arching with the sensation. He varied the intensity, sometimes gentle, sometimes harsh, always keeping her guessing.

The smell of leather and sex filled the air, a heady mix that only served to heighten her arousal. She could feel herself growing wetter, her pussy swollen and begging for his touch. "Please," she moaned, not sure what she was asking for.

He set the flogger aside, his hand replacing the leather. His touch was firm, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass as he began to spank her again. "Count," he ordered, his voice firm.

"One," she gasped, as his hand came down again. "Two," she counted, her voice growing more strained. "Three, four, five..." With each number, the pain grew more intense, but so did the pleasure. Her body was on fire, a raging inferno that threatened to consume her.

Y/N's hand moved faster, the slaps falling in a steady rhythm that had her moaning and writhing on the bed. "Ten," she choked out, the word barely audible. "Please, more."

He complied, his hand landing with a satisfying smack on her ass again and again. Her skin was on fire, the sting of each hit only adding to the burning need between her legs. "I can't," she gasped, her voice tight with pain and pleasure.

"You can," he said, his voice a low growl. "You will." He leaned down, his teeth grazing her ear. "Because you're mine. You're going to take everything I give you and beg for more."

The words sent a shock of pleasure through her, and she nodded, her eyes squeezed shut. "Yes, Y/N," she whispered. "I'm yours."

He reached between her legs, his fingers sliding through her wetness. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. He slid two fingers inside her, his hand moving in time with the spanks.

Karina felt herself spiraling out of control, the pain and pleasure merging into a single, overwhelming sensation. Her orgasm built, a crescendo that seemed to go on forever. And when it finally crashed over her, she screamed his name, her body convulsing with the power of it.

Y/N watched her, his own desire burning even hotter at the sight of her submission. He pulled her down onto the bed, his cock still rock-hard and demanding. "Ride me," he ordered, his voice a low rumble. "Show me what a good little slut you can be."

Her legs still trembled as she positioned herself above his cock, straddling his hips. She felt the head of his dick nudging at her entrance, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She was so sensitive from the previous orgasms that even the slightest touch made her shiver.

Without warning, Y/N grabbed her hips and pulled her down, impaling herself on his cock with a sharp cry. "Ahh, Y/N," she gasped as he filled her up completely. She could feel every inch of him, stretching her out and filling her up with a delicious pressure that made her eyes water.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands tightening on her hips. "You're so tight."

Karina bit her lip, her voice trembling as she leaned back, pointing her stomach. "Your cock is reaching here," she whispered, the words filled with a mix of awe and fear. He chuckled, the sound deep and sinister, as he began to thrust up into her, his hips meeting hers in a punishing rhythm.

Her body was a wreck, muscles sore from the abuse of the previous climaxes, but she didn't dare protest. She knew that she had signed up for this when she stepped into his apartment, and she was going to see it through. Her eyes watered as she bounced up and down on his cock, trying to find a rhythm that didn't make the pain unbearable.

"AHHH," she gasped as she took him in deeper, his shaft hitting her g-spot with every bounce. She could feel his cock throb with every thrust, the veins pulsing beneath the velvety skin. His eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze making her pussy clench around him.

"Yes, my slut," Y/N grunted, his hips moving faster and more forcefully beneath her. "Cum for my cock." His words were a command, a demand that her body responded to instinctively. She felt the pressure building, the heat in her belly spreading out like wildfire.

With a scream that seemed to tear from her very soul, Karina's pussy clenched around his shaft, her muscles contracting in a powerful orgasm. Her juices gushed out of her, soaking him, the bed, everything. The force of it was so intense that she felt his cock slip from her grasp, the sudden emptiness making her gasp.

Y/N chuckled, his eyes gleaming with triumph. He grabbed her hips, pulling her back down onto him. She could feel his cock throb with renewed vigor as he began to fuck her harder, his hips bucking up to meet her every move. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, the tips brushing against his chest hair, sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

Her pussy was so sensitive, so swollen, that every stroke was like a brand-new orgasm. She could feel herself slipping, her body losing the battle against the relentless tide of pleasure that he was drowning her in. His cock was like a beacon, guiding her through the storm.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt herself falling into him, her body weightless against his powerful frame. His chest was a pillow of warm, solid muscle, his heart thundering against her cheek as he drove into her. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, keeping her in place as she rode him like a wild animal in heat.

But then, she whispered it, the words a desperate plea. "I can't ride anymore, Y/N. Forgive me." Her voice was barely audible, lost in the symphony of their mingled breaths and the slap of flesh against flesh. Y/N's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, but he didn't miss a beat, his hips continuing to piston up into her.

"Ahh, just like that," she moaned, her voice a mix of pain and pleasure. "Just fuck my pussy, Y/N." He smirked, his grip on her hips tightening, his thrusts growing more demanding. Karina's head fell back, her hair cascading down her back as she lost herself in the rhythm of his movements.

Y/N leaned back, his hands moving to her breasts. He squeezed and pinched the sensitive flesh, his eyes never leaving hers as he watched her face contort with every sensation. "You like that, don't you?" he taunted, his voice a dark whisper in the quiet room. "You like when I fill your tight little cunt."

Karina's pussy clenched around him, and she could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building. She nodded, her voice lost in a moan. "Yes, Y/N," she managed to murmur. "I love it."

The words seemed to spur him on, his strokes growing faster and more erratic. "You're so tight," he grunted, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's like you were made for my cock."

Karina's body was a whirlwind of sensation, a maelstrom of pleasure and pain. Each thrust seemed to hit her g-spot with surgical precision, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through her. "It's just ur dick is so big, Y/N," she gasped, her voice strained. "So...so thick."

Y/N smirked, his eyes gleaming with arrogance. "I told you," he murmured, his voice a dark purr. "You're mine now." He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into her, the force making her eyes roll back in her head.

Karina could feel his cock touching places inside her that she didn't know existed, reaching depths that she had never felt before. It was as if her body had been made for him, molded by his desire to fit him perfectly. "Ahh, Y/N," she gasped, her nails digging into his chest. "It's so deep."

Y/N's eyes darkened, his teeth gritted with the effort to hold back his own climax. He knew she was close, could feel the tightness of her pussy around him, the way her muscles tensed with every thrust. "You're going to come for me," he said, his voice a demand. "Now."

With that, he reached between her legs, his thumb pressing firmly against her clit. Karina's eyes snapped open, her pupils dilating with the sudden, intense sensation. She threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream as the orgasm took her. Her body bucked and convulsed, her pussy spasming around his cock.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm cumming!" she screamed, her voice hoarse with pleasure. Her pussy clamped down on him, the walls pulsing with each wave of her orgasm. He groaned, feeling her juices coating him, her warmth gripping him like a vice.

Y/N's own release was building, his balls tightening with the promise of a powerful climax. He could see the desperation in Karina's eyes, the need for him to fill her completely, to mark her as his. "Take it," he grunted, his hips slamming into hers. "Take all of me."

Her pussy was contracting around him, the muscles pulsing with every thrust. He could feel her getting closer, her breath hitching with every stroke. "Please, Y/N," she begged, her voice a whimper. "Please, let me cum again."

He didn't need any more encouragement. He leaned up, his thumb finding her clit once more. He rubbed it in circles, increasing the pressure with every pass. Her hips began to move in sync with his hand, her moans growing louder and more desperate.

"Please," she begged, her voice strained. "Please, let me cum again." Her pussy was so tight around his cock, her juices making it slick and hot. He could feel the beginnings of his own climax, the tension in his balls growing with every stroke.

Y/N leaned in, his teeth grazing her neck as his thumb continued to work her clit. "Beg for it," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Tell me you need it."

"I do," Karina sobbed, her voice a desperate plea. "I need to cum, please, Y/N. I can't take it anymore." Her pussy was clenching around him, desperate for release. The pain was a constant throb, a reminder of the boundaries he had pushed and the price of her submission.

With a snarl, Y/N drove into her one last time, his cock swelling within her tight channel. "Now," he grunted, his thumb pressing down on her clit with all the strength he had left. Karina's body responded immediately, her orgasm slamming into her with the force of a freight train.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed, her nails digging into his skin as her pussy spasmed around him. He could feel the warm rush of her release, her walls contracting in a vice-like grip that threatened to pull the very essence of him out. He couldn't hold back any longer, his own orgasm barreling through him like a storm.

With a roar, he filled her completely, his cum jetting into her in thick, hot spurts. The sensation of her tight pussy milking him was almost too much, and he came harder than he ever had before. The room was filled with the sounds of their shared pleasure, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

As the last tremors of their shared climax faded, Karina felt her consciousness slipping away. Her body was a limp mess of pleasure-soaked limbs, her mind a haze of lust and submission. She didn't know how long she had been with Y/N, but she knew she didn't want it to end.

Y/N watched her with a mix of satisfaction and concern, his breathing finally evening out. He reached out, his hand gentle as he cupped her cheek. "Look at me, Karina," he said, his voice a command even as his eyes searched hers.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she gazed up at him, her pupils blown with desire. "Y/N," she whispered, her voice a breathy gasp.

"You did well," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "So, so well." His praise sent a shiver of pleasure through her, her pussy clenching around his still-hard cock.

He leaned down, claiming her mouth in a kiss that was as much possession as it was affection. Karina melted into him, her body responding to his touch despite her exhaustion. She knew that she had found something in him that she had been craving, something dark and primal that she had never experienced before.

As the kiss ended, Y/N pulled out of her, the absence of his cock leaving her feeling empty and used. But it was a good empty, a good used, one that she knew she would crave again and again.

"Now sleep, Karina," he said, his voice a gentle command. "Tomorrow is a different day for you." He climbed off the bed, leaving her to lay there, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasms.

Her eyes followed him as he moved around the room, his naked body a vision of power and masculinity. He was a force of nature, unstoppable and all-consuming. And she was his, completely and utterly.

He returned with a warm, wet cloth, gently cleaning her up. The coolness of the fabric against her overheated skin was a relief, and she sighed as he took care of her. He was so tender, so gentle in his dominance. It was a stark contrast to the aggression he had shown earlier, and she found it incredibly arousing.

Y/N tucked her into bed, his eyes lingering on her bruised and swollen flesh. She felt a twinge of pain, but it was quickly overshadowed by the warmth of his gaze. "You did well tonight," he murmured, his voice a soft caress.

"Thank you, Y/N," she whispered, her eyes drooping with exhaustion. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but she knew she was in for more of the same. And she couldn't wait.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead in a soft kiss. "Rest now," he said. "You're going to need your strength." With that, he flicked off the light, leaving her in the darkness.

Karina closed her eyes, the events of the evening replaying in her mind. The fear, the pain, the pleasure. It was all so intense, so overwhelming. But as she drifted off to sleep, she knew that she had found something she never knew she was looking for. A man who could give her everything she never knew she needed.

The mattress dipped as Y/N climbed into bed beside her, his arm wrapping around her waist. She snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and protected in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. His hand trailed down her body, coming to rest on her hip, his fingers flexing gently.

"Tomorrow," he whispered into the darkness. "Tomorrow, we'll see just how much more you can take." The words sent a thrill through her, a promise of more pleasure and pain, more submission and control.

As she drifted off to sleep, her body still pulsing with the echoes of her orgasms, Karina knew that she was in for the most intense experience of her life. And she was ready to embrace it, ready to become whatever he needed her to be.

[sucker4jeon]

damn GOOOD fic recs ✮⋆˙

welcome to the void .ᐟ

⭑ hi i'm rina, i mostly rot here reading fics tbh ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 thought i'd start dropping some of the bangers i stumble across 🖤 hope ya'll find something worth losing sleep over ⭑ not a minor ⭑ she / her ⭑ all bangtan sfw / nsfw fics !

warning: ⚠️ not all but MOST recs are 18+ — not safe, not soft, and definitely not for kids. minors, do not interact. disclaimer: i do not own any of the fics i rec. all credit goes to the original writers. if i ever miss a tag or you want your work removed, just lmk. this blog exists to scream about good writing, nothing else. also, this list's probably gonna get REAL long, so i'll most likely sort everything by member using separate links in the future.

the collection .ᐟ

[ ☁️ ] – fluff [ 🖤 ] – angst [ 🥛 ] – smut [ ⭐ ] – favorite

──★ knj

one shot

new guy by @kithtaehyung [ 🥛 ] pairing: fuckboi!namjoon x organization president!reader word count: 5.5k status: completed slow mornings by @purplemoon7 [ ☁️🥛⭐ ] pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x black!reader word count: 2.1k status: completed

──★ ksj

... coming soon

──★ myg

series

oh! darling by @yoongiofmine [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: prof!yoongi x student!reader word count: 108k status: completed three tangerines by @kithtaehyung [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: brother's bestfriend!yoongi x reader word count: – status: on-going schemin' by @dollfaceksj [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: producer!yoongi x rapper!reader word count: 70.2k status: completed matilda by @babystrcandy [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: brother's best friend!yoongi x reader word count: 141.7k status: completed family matters by @explicit-tae [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: husband's brother!yoongi x reader word count: – status: on-going

one shot

contrition by hobisdmpl [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: priest!yoongi x stripper!reader word count: 12k status: completed primae noctis by @jimlingss [ 🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: god!yoongi x virgin!reader word count: 5.5k status: completed exitus acta probat by @bang-tan-bitches [ 🖤🥛 ] pairing: kidnapper!yoongi x reader word count: 7.2k status: completed hard liquor by @chateautae [ 🥛 ] pairing: executive boss!yoongi x employee!reader word count: 8k status: completed eargasm by @lavishedinjimin [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: sex hotline operator!yoongi x innocent!reader word count: 9.5k status: completed

──★ jhs

... coming soon

──★ pjm

... coming soon

──★ kth

one shot

pregnancy kink by @jiniretracha [ ☁️🥛⭐ ] pairing: boyfriend!taehyung x pregnant!reader word count: 1.5k status: completed

──★ jjk

series

dilf jk series by @venusiangguk [ ☁️🥛⭐ ] pairing: dilf!jungkook x grocery store clerk!reader word count: – status: on-going still don't know your name by @dollfaceksj [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: neighbor!jungkook x reader word count: 29k status: completed lowkey by @xpeachesncream [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: nerd!jungkook x popular!reader word count: 64.2k status: completed the hit list by @whoretan [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: fuckboi!jungkook x introvert!reader word count: – status: on-going taste of a poison paradise by @dollfaceksj [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: fuckboi!jungkook x reader word count: 91.1k status: completed throttle by @alphabetboyluvr [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: racer!jungkook x gasoline station cashier!reader word count: 160k status: completed beast of busan by @trivia-yandere [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: serial killer!jungkook x reader word count: 18.6k status: completed milf by @trivia-yandere [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: son's best friend!jungkook x milf!reader word count: – status: on-going sibling rivalry by @trivia-yandere [ 🖤����⭐ ] pairing: step brother!jungkook x step sister!reader word count: 13.7k status: completed starstruck by @trivia-yandere [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: actor!jungkook x newbie actress!reader word count: – status: on-going between takes by @jeonstudios [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: porn star!jungkook x fluffer!reader word count: 30.4k status: completed

one shot

magnolia by @dovechim [ ☁️🥛⭐ ] pairing: jungkook x pregnant!reader word count: 3k status: completed begging for mercy by @jeonsalibi [ 🥛 ] pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x client!reader word count: 4.6k status: completed the pink pill by @dollfaceksj [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: best friend!jungkook x reader word count: 9.1k status: completed exclamation mark by @whatifyoulivelikethat [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x client!reader word count: 6.7k status: completed instant gratification by @dovechim [ 🥛 ] pairing: fuckboi!jungkook x cheerleader!reader word count: 7k status: completed anti-baby fever by gashinabts [ ☁️🖤🥛 ] pairing: husband!jungkook x wife!reader word count: 4.5k status completed cheer by @btssaysstudy [ ☁️ ] pairing: athlete!jungkook x cheerleader!reader word count: 9.9k status: completed lemme take care of you by @ahgasegotarmy116 [ ☁️🥛⭐ ] pairing: baby daddy!jungkook x baby mommy!reader word count: 2k staus: completed ghostface killer by @7brownsuga7 [ 🥛 ] pairing: ghostface!jungkook x reader word count: 1k status: completed a pierce through the heart by @reredaydreams [ 🥛 ] pairing: tattoo artist & piercer!jungkook x client!reader word count: 6k status: completed fucking you right by @babystarbun [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: step brother!jungkook x step sister!reader word count: 6.4k status: completed baby o baby by @aajjks [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: jungkook x reader word count: 1.5k status: completed kerosene by @joonberriess [ 🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: obsessive!jungkook x older!reader word count: 15k status: completed hold on to me by @kooklovee [ 🖤🥛 ] pairing: ceo!husband x wife!reader word count: 11k status: completed

──★ multiple members

series

mami by @kithtaehyung [ 🥛 ] pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader , rapper!namjoon x reader word count: – status: on-going (or maybe discontinued idk) please be naked by @floralseokjin [ ☁️🖤🥛 ] pairing: namjoon x reader , yoongi x reader word count: 61.1k status: completed

one shot

steam by @hoseoksluna [ 🥛 ] pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x reader (feat. jungkook) word count: 9.2k status: completed waiting for by @whatifyoulivelikethat [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: yoongi x reader (feat. jungkook) word count: 5.1k status: completed monster by @whatifyoulivelikethat [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: mafia boss!yoongi x reader x bodyguard!jungkook word count: 4.6k status: completed all night by @axigailxo [ 🥛 ] pairing: namjoon x reader x yoongi word count: 4.5k status: completed truth or dare? by @letjungcoook7 [ 🥛 ] pairing: jungkook x reader x yoongi word count: 5.5k status: completed fill with fire, exhale desire by @whatifyoulivelikethat [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: smoker!jungkook x reader word count: 26.7k status: completed

thank you ~ ☆

i'll be adding more fics as i go—so stick around. for now, take your time, read something beautiful. huge love to all the incredible writers behind these works!

📢 STREAM BTS!

[melancholy-of-nadia]

i'm not sure?! (m) | jjk/pjm/kth

title: i'm not sure?!  pairing: jungkook x jimin x taehyung x show producer!reader(f)  rating/genre: m(18+) ; fluff, smut ; the canon idol au summary: You're a producer working on a BTS travel show, called "Are You Sure?!" staring BTS members Jimin and Jungkook, with their fellow member guest star Taehyung. Everything is going well on set as filming for the night comes to an end, but when Jungkook and Jimin inform you that they caught you staring at their shirtless bodies, things quickly escalate between you guys by the poolside. warnings: fluff, language, pwp, threesome, foursome, tit play, nipple play, licking, some body boob worship, blowjobs, hand jobs, eating out, multiple orgasms, ass slapping, light mlm moment, cumming, oral sex (m and f receieving), biting, praise, they all have a big dicks but they're different!, tatted jk and jimin is a warning in itself, jungkook is a bit more rough, jimin is soft :(((, taehyung dom tease!, insinuation that this is not their first rodeo lmfao, kisses note: i am watching are you sure?! and i've thought many thoughts... i hope this one shot can be prescribed to you and heal whatever insane and nasty intrusive thoughts you guys have when watching. i am a simple woman, but these men only slightly older than me have me wrecked :"))) also s/o to @daegudrama for editing despite her busyness total word count: 6.6k drop date: August 29th, 2024 5pm pst ao3 link

A day of filming wrapped as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the lush greenery of Jeju Island.

The final shot had captured the last rays of sunlight glinting off the shimmering pool, where Jimin and Jungkook had been playfully splashing each other and playing mermaids, their laughter echoing through the tranquil evening air. The crew began to pack up the equipment, the usual post-shoot chatter filling the space as everyone prepared to unwind after another successful day.

You, the producer, had been watching the monitors closely, ensuring every moment was captured perfectly for "Are You Sure?"—the travel reality show hosted by BTS members Jimin and Jungkook. You’ve seen how their chemistry was undeniable since filming started out in the US in July. Now, once again, their camaraderie was infectious as they explored the beauty of Jeju, Korea with their fellow bandmate and guest star Taehyung by their side. Each outing in Jeju had been a hit: indoor rock climbing, go-karting, savoring omakase as well as other Jeju delicacies, and now, the pool at the luxurious house accommodation, where they seemed to find endless ways to entertain themselves, and the audiences who would eventually be watching this.

However, throughout this filming project, you found your eyes constantly lingering. The cool blue water rippled gently as Jimin and Jungkook clambered out, their naked torsos glistening in the fading light. It wasn’t the first time you’d caught yourself staring a little too long, mesmerized by the sight of them so effortlessly carefree and touchy. There was something about the way they moved, their playful energy, that made it hard to look away.

You shake off the thought. Get it together, Y/N! You finally got a big gig producing a reality show for BTS in your mid-20s and you cannot be ruining it over your lust. You sigh. Maybe the lack of touch and a relationship is really getting to you, but that’s what happens when you value your career above other mundane things. You have to remind yourself that you have to continue staying professional to make it to the end of filming this.

What you don’t know is that your stares haven’t gone unnoticed, especially by the youngest of the trio, Jungkook.

As you begin to collect your things, your heart skips a beat when you hear a voice call out to you.

“Hey, PD-nim. Can you come join us by the pool for a bit before you go,” Jungkook says, his tone casual, but his smile inviting. “We wanted to talk about tomorrow’s shoot.”

Jimin nods in agreement, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans against the edge of the pool. “Yeah, we’ve got some ideas for tomorrow. Plus, it’s a nice night—no reason to rush off, right?”

You hesitate for a moment, your mind racing. The day has been long, and you can feel the exhaustion settling in. But the chance to spend a few more moments in their company, even if just to discuss the next day's itinerary, is too tempting to resist.

“Uh,” you turn to look around at the other staff, seemingly wondering if you should stay behind.

However, the ones who notice the interaction shrug, seemingly wanting to go back to their accommodation next door and eat dinner. Great.

“Sure, I can stick around for a bit.” trying to keep your voice steady as you walk over to where they’re waiting.

All the staff but you fully exit, closing the large doors that encase you in this space with these beautiful men. You sit on one of the comfortable seats by the pool, nervously hugging your knees as you watch Jimin and Jungkook swim toward you. You notice Taehyung is still inside the living room, lying on the floor as he scrolls on his phone. “Is he coming to join us?” You ask, wondering if there are any concerns for tomorrow, wouldn’t it be good to have him hear this information too?  

“He’ll join us later~” Jimin answers, his tone sounding like he’s up to something, but his adorable smirk makes you not question it.

“Ah, alright.”

A brief silence follows as you look to Jimin and Jungkook to start the conversation, but instead, they exchange a glance and giggle.

You’re confused, but you recognize this as typical behavior from them. “Is there something wrong?”

Jungkook’s giggling becomes softer before it cuts, “You know, we’ve noticed you staring at us too much throughout the trip in America and here.”

Holy shit! They noticed!

Panic sets in. Oh no no no. Is this it? They probably think you’re creepy.  What if they think you’re some sort of sasaeng fan who somehow got involved in the production of this show to stalk them? 

You’ll be labeled a pervert, potentially losing your job and getting blacklisted from the industry. All because you couldn’t keep your eyes off of their beautiful faces… and bodies. It’s not your fault! While you were a fan of BTS years ago, you gave that up once you entered the entertainment industry a few years ago and started out as a production assistant. You’ve occasionally seen them at music and end of the year shows you worked on, but you gently admired them from afar, prioritizing your work over anything else.

“I–” You struggle to find the words to defend yourself. “I’m so sorry!” You cover your face with your hands, your words muffled. “I-I didn’t mean to! Y-You’re… He’s…”

The professional and stoic exterior you’ve maintained begins to crumble now that you’ve been caught red-handed.

But despite your panic, Jimin and Jungkook find your reaction completely endearing.

“She’s reacting exactly as cute as you said!” Jimin laughs, splashing water at Jungkook, who swims toward the pool ladder to get out.

“I didn’t realize she’d be this flustered, though!” Jungkook says, a hint of concern in his voice. He climbs out of the pool and walks toward you, dripping water onto the deck. “PD-nim, don’t worry about it.”

You peek through your fingers, still mortified, as Jungkook approaches, looking as attractive as ever with his body glistening from light reflecting on the remnants of water falling down his body. His expression is soft, reassuring, and it only makes your heart race faster.

Jimin lets out a soft chuckle. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re just teasing you,” His voice is light and teasing as he floats lazily in the pool “We’re not uncomfortable. It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

Jungkook nods, his expression gentle yet probing. “Yup! You’ve been nothing but professional this whole time. We just noticed that… maybe there’s more beneath the surface.”

Jimin gracefully lifts himself out of the pool and takes the seat on your other side. His presence is both comforting and disarming. “It’s like there’s something you’re holding back,” he adds, his tone hiding something deeper. “Something you’re denying yourself.”

You exhale slowly, trying to steady your nerves. Internally, you’re awestruck. It’s like they read you like a book. The intensity of their gazes still makes your heart race. Before you can respond, Jungkook’s eyes drop to your chest, his smile turning playful again.

“You know,” he says, “I noticed the black bikini top peeking out from under your tank top earlier.”

Your breath catches as his fingers touch the straps that tie behind your neck. You’d planned to swim later, after filming, wearing the bikini under your tank top and maxi skirt. Seeing how much fun they were having, you’d wanted to join in. But now, with their attention focused on you, you feel exposed in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Jimin leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Why don’t you take off your clothes so we can see it better? We’ll help you~”

Take off your clothes?! Your heart pounds in your chest, the suggestion hanging in the air between you. The teasing is taking a turn, and you’re not sure how to respond. Saying no might kill the mood, and who knows what they’d think—or say. But if you say yes… there’s no telling where this might lead.

You’re not sure. But after a moment’s hesitation, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay…”

Jungkook gently takes hold of the hem of your tank top, his fingers brushing against your skin. His touch is both soft and deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine as he slowly lifts the fabric, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath catches in your throat as Jungkook pulls the tank top over your head, revealing the black bikini top beneath. Your cleavage and the roundness of your breasts are on full display, which makes them slightly more excited. The cool air hits your skin, making you acutely aware of how exposed you are. 

But the look in their eyes isn’t one of judgment—it’s something far more intense, more primal.

Jimin watches with a satisfied smile, his gaze flickering between you and Jungkook. “You don’t need to hide, okay?” he adds, his voice soft yet commanding. “We’re all just having a little fun, right?”

Jungkook’s hands linger on your waist, his thumbs brushing lightly against the skin just above the waistband of your maxi skirt. “This too,” he says, his voice almost a whisper as he hooks his fingers under the fabric.

You glance at Jimin, who nods encouragingly, his eyes dark with anticipation. There’s no turning back now, and a part of you doesn’t want to.

With a gentle tug, Jimin helps you slide the skirt down your hips, letting it pool around your feet. You stand up, stepping out of it. Now, your body is fully on display in the black bikini that suddenly feels far more revealing than it did before.

Jimin’s smile widens as his gaze travels over you, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “Wow, you look even better than I imagined,” he murmurs, his voice sending a thrill through you.

“She’s really pretty,” Jungkook’s hands trail up your sides, his touch light but possessive. “Let’s go in the pool for a swim,” he says softly, his eyes locked onto yours.

You’re momentarily thrown off by the sudden change of scenario, blinking in surprise. The intensity of the moment shifts, and both Jimin and Jungkook burst into soft giggles at your reaction. Before you can say anything, Jungkook takes your hands and, with a mischievous grin, pulls you up from the lounge chair.

In one swift motion, he lifts you into his arms, the strength in his hold both reassuring and thrilling. “Hold on tight,” he says, winking at you before he leaps into the pool, bringing you along with him.

“Huh!? Wahh!!” The water rushes around you, cool and refreshing as you both plunge beneath the surface.

When you resurface, laughing and splashing, Jimin stands at the edge, watching with amusement. “Wait for me!” he calls out before executing a perfect cannonball right between you and Jungkook, sending a wave of water crashing over both of you.

The three of you laugh as the playful atmosphere takes over. The tension from earlier dissolves into something lighthearted and fun. In the pool, you play a variety of games: splashing water at each other, racing from one end to the other, seeing who can hold their breath the longest, and even attempting to dunk each other under the water.

You become more familiar with them and vice versa.

Jimin and Jungkook take turns lifting you up and tossing you into the deeper end, your laughter echoing in the night. At one point, Jungkook even suggests a round of “chicken fight,” where Jimin hoists you onto his shoulders while Jungkook does the same with an imaginary opponent, both of you trying to push each other off into the water.

As the night progresses, the games become more relaxed, the three of you floating side by side, your bodies gently swaying with the ripples of the water. 

Maybe this is all that’s going to happen. Maybe you were overthinking any other scenario. They were just teasing you because you were staring at them throughout the filming. You guys are gonna call it a night, right?

Right–

“Y/N, can I touch your breasts.”

The sudden question jolts you out of your thoughts, and you quickly stand up in the pool, water cascading off your skin. Jungkook is closer now, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that wasn’t there before. His eyes are darker, a smoldering intensity taking over the playful spark you’re used to.

You swallow hard, caught completely off guard. “Is there… a reason?” you manage to ask, your voice coming out shakier than you’d like. You are on the bigger side than most girls here, so it’s not entirely surprising that your chest caught his eye.

Jungkook steps even closer, his presence almost overwhelming. “I’m just curious,” he says softly, his voice low and almost hypnotic. “I want to see how they feel.”

Your heart races, every nerve in your body tingling as the situation escalates far beyond anything you’d imagined. You can’t believe this is happening, and yet, there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes it impossible to say no.

“Uh… sure,” you respond, barely above a whisper, your cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.

Jungkook’s hand moves slowly, deliberately, under the cup of your bikini top. His touch is tentative at first, as if he’s savoring the moment, but then his fingers press more firmly against your skin, exploring the softness with a deliberate curiosity. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his thumb brush against your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. 

The sensation is heightened by the sight of his tattooed right arm, the intricate patterns of his sleeve adding a dark contrast to his skin. The ink swirls and curves with every movement, the bold lines almost mesmerizing as his hand continues its exploration.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sound that threatens to escape, but you can’t help the way your body reacts to his touch. The water feels warmer now, the atmosphere is charged with sexual tension. Luckily the cameras outside are now off, but you still can’t let the staff in the building next door hear anything going on. 

Jimin, who had been floating nearby, quietly watching, now moves closer as well, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Jungkook,” he says softly, his voice a gentle reminder that he’s there too, “Don’t hog all the fun.”

Jungkook pulls back slightly, his hand still lingering on your skin as he glances at Jimin with a playful smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jimin leans closer, his gaze intent and voice soft. “I’m going to touch you too, is that okay?”

You nod, anticipation and nervousness swirling within you.

Jimin’s hand moves under the bikini cup to grasp your left breast, his touch gentle yet confident as he begins to explore. His fingers graze and play with your nipple, causing a shiver to run through your body. His thumb and forefingers move in careful back and forth motions. Tenderly tweaking them, carefully observing the way your face reacts to his every touch. He appears as if he is under a trance, and looks at you with such a need in his eyes.

The sensation is heightened by Jungkook, who leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. 

“I’m gonna remove your top so I can suck on them a bit,” He says shyly, pausing for a moment to untie your bikini straps from the back of your neck and remove your bikini top, before lowering his head and softly pressing his lips to your nipple, his tongue darting out to tease. 

His hands push your breasts together as his tongue caresses the inner curves of your tits, swirling his tongue across them. Your hands are on his shoulders as he continues, licking every inch of your chest, nuzzling his face between them and leaving kisses along the path. His tongue flicks your right nipple and your breathing hitches in your throat. Despite the water in the way, you can feel yourself becoming wet from below.

Jimin watches, clearly intrigued, and soon follows suit, his mouth finding the other breast. He rubs his mouth along it, giving it a couple of kisses then wrapping his lips around it. Suctioning and taking in the tit with such hungry delight. 

You feel like you have whiplash, as you cry out from the warmth of their mouths on your skin, your back arches off of the wall of the pool. You want to touch them, reach for them, feel the silkiness of his hair in your grasp. 

But Jimin doesn’t let up, taking his time licking slowly around your areola until your nipple perks up, hard and stiff. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue, and with the sudden cold from the night air, it feels all too much. 

Jungkook looks up at you through his wet hair, through black lashes as he widens his mouth over your breast, his teeth bared, scraping the fat of your breast without ever breaking the skin. You cry out in a cluster of pleasure, maybe pain, as your senses are confused about all of the sensations at once.

Despite the feelings of them against you, their actions are synchronized and perfectly in tune with each other.

The pool’s gentle ripples and breeze seem to fade into the background as the focus narrows to the intimate touch of the two men. Their movements are tender and explorative, a blend of curiosity and desire that leaves you breathless and overwhelmed.

Your mind is fighting for dear life to stay sane and not lose to your animalistic urges,

“Let’s get out of the pool,” Jungkook commands, his voice firm yet enticing. “I want you to sit back on that daybed couch, baby.”

The shift in how he’s addressing you in the past 45 minutes is striking—both intimate and commanding. You nod, your body responding almost instinctively to his command as you all exit the pool. The three of you walk over to the poolside daybed, water dripping off your bodies, cooling in the night.

You sink into the plush cushions, the soft fabric cool against your heated skin. The daybed is large, designed for lounging, but right now, it feels like the center of something much more intense. Jungkook and Jimin kneel on either side of you, their knees pressing into the mattress as they lean over you, their wet bodies glistening under the soft pool lights.

You look at both of them, a daring thought forming in your mind. “I want to… lick at your chests too,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of eagerness, shyness and uncertainty.

The thought of exploring the contrasting textures of their skin, the difference in their nipples under your tongue, is almost overwhelming. You wonder how each will react, the mere anticipation making your breath catch.

Jimin’s eyes light up with a mischievous glint. “Go ahead,” he murmurs, his voice a blend of encouragement and desire. “We’re here for you.”

Jungkook watches intently, his gaze dark with expectation. “We’re all yours,” he says softly, his tone dripping with promise.

You reach out tentatively, your fingers brushing against their chests to feel the firmness of their muscles under your touch. The warmth of their skin sends a shiver down your spine as you explore the contours of their bodies. Your hands glide over Jungkook's chest first, pausing to tease his nipples with your fingertips gently. His breath hitches, a low hum of approval escaping his lips as he watches you with darkened eyes.

Encouraged by his reaction, you lean in closer, your mouth hovering just above his skin. You start with a soft kiss on his chest before taking one of his small chocolate nipples into your mouth, your tongue swirling around it in a slow, deliberate motion. Jungkook’s hand instinctively reaches up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he lets out a quiet groan of pleasure. His chest rises and falls more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier as you continue to tease him, alternating between gentle licks and firmer sucks.

The sound of his pleasure fuels your desire, making you want to elicit even more reactions from him. But as you pull back slightly, your gaze shifts to Jimin, who has been watching with equal intensity. His eyes are filled with anticipation, his lips slightly parted as if he’s already imagining what it will feel like when it’s his turn.

You move towards Jimin, your fingers tracing the outline of his chest as you did with Jungkook. His skin feels different—softer, yet still firm beneath your touch. Just below his right breast, he has a delicate script tattoo, the word "Nevermind" inked in elegant, flowing letters. You've always found it sexy, this handwritten tattoo adds a personal touch to his perfectly sculpted body.

His nipples are also differently shaped, bigger, and a bit lighter in color. You can feel the slight tremble in his body as you gently roll his nipple between your fingers before leaning in to taste him. Your mouth closes over his nipple, your tongue flicking against it in a teasing rhythm that draws a sharp inhale from him. His hand rests lightly on your shoulder, his grip tightening slightly as you continue to explore him with your mouth.

Jimin’s reactions are more subtle, yet no less intense. His soft moans mix with Jungkook’s heavier breathing, creating a symphony of sounds that only heighten your own arousal. The way their bodies respond to your touch, the contrast in their reactions, drives you to explore further, to discover just how much pleasure you can bring them.

You pull back slightly, glancing toward the large doors that separate the pool area from the rest of the accommodation. A flicker of concern crosses your mind, and you bite your lip before whispering, “You two need to stay quiet. We don’t want anyone overhearing us.”

Any slight mistake and you will lose your job, remember?

Jimin and Jungkook exchange a glance, their playful expressions tinged with a shared understanding. They nod, their eyes never leaving yours as they silently agree to your request. But just as you start to relax, your actions come to a stop when you feel them guiding your hands downwards, placing them on their lower bodies.

Your breath catches as your fingers wrap around their growing hardness, the heat and firmness of their cocks hidden under their swim trunks pressing against your palms. Jimin lets out a shaky exhale, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath against your ear. “I’ve wanted to feel you so bad for months now,” he confesses, his voice low and thick with desire.

Jungkook, not to be outdone, adds in a hushed tone, his eyes glinting with a dark sparkle, “Me too. You don’t know how much you’ve been driving us crazy.”

Their words send a thrill through you, intensifying the moment. You didn’t realize you were having this effect on them. You look at them both, their shared longing evident in their eyes. Slowly, you pull their members out from their swim trunks, your heart racing as you position yourself between them, sinking to your knees on the cushioned daybed.

Oh fuck…

The size difference even extends to their dicks. Jungkook’s is much longer, with veins prominent on its sides. Jimin’s is shorter, but the girth is insane. You can’t help but imagine how they’d feel inside your pussy. No, you can’t get ahead of yourself Y/N. Not yet at least…

With a mixture of boldness and anticipation, you lean down, your lips parting as you begin to lick at their members, starting with soft, tentative strokes of your tongue. The sensation of their heated skin against your tongue is intoxicating, their quiet groans spurring you on. You alternate between them, your tongue tracing the veins along their lengths, savoring the contrast in texture and taste.

Jimin’s breath hitches as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his member, the salty taste mingling with the slickness of your saliva. His fingers suddenly tighten in your hair, but he remains obediently quiet, the tension in his body evident as he struggles to hold back his angelic voice.

You shift to Jungkook, taking him into your mouth with a slow, deliberate sucking. His quiet sounds of pleasure are like music to your ears, the low hums of approval vibrating. His hands rest on your shoulders, his grip firm but not forceful, guiding you as you take him deeper, feeling the way his body responds to every movement of your tongue.

At the same time, your hand reaches out to Jimin, wrapping around his throbbing length. You start stroking him with a steady rhythm, making sure to keep him engaged, the sensation of your fingers gliding over his slick skin keeping his arousal high. Jimin’s breath hitches, his eyes half-lidded with desire as he watches you.

The two of them try their best to stay quiet, but the occasional gasp, lust-filled phrases or whispered name of yours slips out, betraying their growing need. 

“You’re so good at this PD nim…”

“Y/N, you’re so fucking fine…”

“Such a good girl, Y/N…”

“Fuck, right there…”

The thrill of their restraint only heightens your own arousal, driving you to explore them further, your lips and tongue working in tandem to bring them closer to the edge.

While working your mouth over Jungkook, you feel Jimin’s hand sliding up your body, his fingers brushing against your wet skin before cupping your breast. His thumb grazes over your nipple, teasing it to a hardened peak, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. The dual feeling—Jimin’s touch on your breast and Jungkook’s heat filling your mouth—intensifies the moment, driving you to pleasure them both with renewed focus.

The tension in the atmosphere thickens, all your quiet breaths turning into ragged gasps. You can feel the subtle changes in their bodies, the way their muscles tighten, and the way their grips on you grow firmer. The anticipation builds, and you know they’re close, teetering on the edge of release.

Jimin is the first to break the silence, his voice low and filled with need. “Y/N… can I come on your chest?” His eyes are dark with lust, the words almost a plea.

Jungkook isn’t far behind, his voice breathless and shaky as he adds, “And I–I want to come in your mouth. Is that okay?”

The heat in their words sends a shiver down your spine. You pause, looking up at them, their faces flushed with desire. 

“Y-Yes that’s fine with me,” You nod, your consent clear in your eyes and the slight smile that tugs at your lips.

With their requests granted, you resume your ministrations with renewed intensity. Your hands work in tandem, stroking their members with a firm, steady rhythm while your tongue flicks and teases them both. The taste of them lingers on your tongue, salty and intoxicating, driving you to push them further, to bring them to the edge of ecstasy.

Their breaths quicken, and you can tell they’re both struggling to hold back, to savor the moment as long as possible. But the pleasure is overwhelming, and soon their restraint begins to falter.

Jungkook’s voice is the first to crack, a desperate whisper as he warns you, “I’m close… so close…”

Jimin removes his hand from your hair. Instead, Jungkook’s hand, adorned with intricate tattoos and the bold "ARMY" inked across his knuckles, slides from your shoulder to your hair this time. The grip is firm and possessive, his fingers weaving into your strands with a fierce, almost primal hold. The veins beneath his tattooed skin pulsate as he uses his arm to guide you closer, pushing himself deeper into you with each powerful thrust. His tattooed bicep flexes with every movement, demonstrating his strength and control, while the rhythmic thrusts become more urgent.

Jimin's breath hitches as soft, erotic moans escape his lips, each sound laced with urgency to let go. His voice quivers, with a strained yet sensual whisper, “Me too… I’m going to come…” The words tumble out in a series of ragged breaths

With one last, deliberate stroke of your hand and a final suck, you push them both over the edge.

“F-Fuck!” Jimin lets out a guttural groan as he releases, his hot seed spilling onto your breasts, painting your skin with his pleasure. The warmth of it spreads across your breasts, the sensation almost surreal as you continue to stroke him, milking out every last drop.

At the same time, Jungkook’s hips buck slightly as he comes, the hot, salty taste of his release flooding your mouth. You swallow him down eagerly, your tongue swirling around him to milk him of every last bit. The taste of him lingers, warm and slightly bitter, but satisfying in a way that leaves you wanting more.

The sounds they make—those broken moans, the gasps of pleasure—echo in your ears, a symphony of gratification. Their bodies tremble with the aftershocks of their orgasms, their hands gentle but insistent as they guide you through the final moments of their release.

When they’ve finally come down from the high, their breathing ragged but steadying, they look down at you with a mix of awe and satisfaction. The sight of you, your chest slick with Jimin’s release and your lips still wet from Jungkook seems to stir something deeper in them—a shared sense of intimacy that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. Your fingers move instinctively, collecting Jimin’s release and bringing it to your lips, savoring the taste as you clean yourself, erasing the evidence of what just transpired. The sensation is both surreal and thrilling, the intimacy of the moment lingering in the air.

Jungkook's voice breaks through the haze, his tone a mix of innocence and desire. “PD-nim, can we do more with you?” His eyes sparkle with the same enthusiasm you’ve seen during filming, making it nearly impossible to deny him.

“H-Huh!? Oh…” you stammer, caught off guard. That look in his eyes—it’s almost impossible to resist. But a small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you should be heading back before the other staff starts wondering where you are.

“C’mon, we’ll be quick!” Jimin adds, his voice smooth and coaxing, making it even harder to stick to your resolve. “We can eat you out, or we can penetr—”

Before he can finish, another voice cuts through the tension, startling you. “Oh… so that’s what you guys were doing?”

You turn your head sharply to see Taehyung standing there, now wearing swim trunks, with a smirk playing on his lips. Your heart races, the sudden realization hitting you like a wave. “Oh my God, I forgot about Taehyung…” you gasp, instinctively trying to cover yourself, though it’s far too late for modesty.

“Hey, I thought you were going to head to bed?” Jimin narrows his eyes at the slightly younger man. He must’ve been watching you all this entire time, he thinks.

He chuckles, an amused glint in his eyes as he takes in the scene. “I thought you guys were still playing in the pool or something… but I’m not surprised things ended up this way. You two are always up to shit like this.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, clearly unimpressed yet intrigued.

“Huh?” you manage to squeak out, your mind reeling. Always up to shit like this? What’s that supposed to mean–

Taehyung’s smirk deepens, and he steps closer. “Anyways, I’m bored. Let me join in too,” he says casually with a boxy smile, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I won’t disappoint heh~” 

He winks. HE WINKS! 

The three members of the BTS maknae line look at you deviously, waiting to pounce on you at your command.

“I don’t think we should be–”

“Are you sure?” Jimin and Jungkook say in unison.

“I… “ The title of the show is going to come back to haunt you.

“I’m not sure…?” You can’t find yourself to say no, having already gone to the deep end.

You will be closer to getting fired if you get caught at this rate, but to hell with it, “Okay, fine!” 

And immediately, they’re all over your body, reigniting the hidden flame in your heart that reminds you how much you loved them as a fan years before. You won’t survive this.

“Come over here,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice deep and commanding as he settles against the pillows of the daybed. He props himself up, making sure he’s comfortable, then motions for you to crawl in front of him.

Your heart races as you move into position, with Jungkook and Jimin on each side of you, their eyes dark with lust. The daybed is deep enough that you’re perfectly nestled between them.

As you get closer to Taehyung, you feel his hands sliding up your thighs, tugging lightly at the waistband of your bikini bottoms. You gasp softly, a thrill running through you as he pulls them down slowly, exposing your wetness. The sensation sends a shiver through you, heightening your anticipation and eagerness to get this over with. You lift your hips slightly to help him slide them off completely, leaving you fully exposed.

Taehyung’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

He props himself up with the pillows behind his head, his hands settling on your hips as he guides you closer. “Sit on my face,” he tells you, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Your breath catches at the bold command, but the heat in his eyes, the way his hands grip your hips, sends a rush of excitement through you. You move to straddle him, your heart pounding as you position yourself over his face. Jungkook and Jimin remain close, their hands brushing over your body, adding to the growing heat between you all.

As you lower yourself onto his waiting mouth, the first touch of his tongue against your most sensitive spot sends a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. 

“A-Ah~ T-Taehyung…” You gasp, your fingers gripping the daybed as Taehyung’s tongue begins to work its magic, teasing and tasting you with skillful precision.

Taehyung’s tongue explores you, from your clit to your entrance. His mouth working in a rhythm that leaves you breathless, and your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

Jimin and Jungkook are on either side of you, their hands moving to your breasts, where they each take a breast in their grasp. Their mouths soon follow, lips closing over your nipples as they begin to suck and tease you with their tongues once more. The dual sensation of Taehyung’s mouth on you and the boys’ attention on your breasts sends your mind reeling, pleasure coursing through you to unleash an orgasm. But you need to be patient and let it continue consuming you.

Jungkook’s hand slides down, tugging off Taehyung’s trunks with a practiced ease before wrapping his fingers around Taehyung’s impressive length. The sight makes your eyes widen, but you aren’t entirely surprised by their actions—after all, you’ve seen how touchy BTS are with one another. Even filming earlier in the day and even back in the States. But this? Seeing them work together to push you to the brink of pleasure only makes you even hornier.

And Taehyung’s dick… it’s massive, much bigger than the other two. The way his tan skin contrasts with the thick, veined shaft is mesmerizing, almost too much to take in. You can’t help but imagine what it would feel like inside you, making you ache with the anticipation of trying it next time.

Jimin, not to be outdone, reaches over to stroke Jungkook, his touch slow and deliberate, making sure to keep him just as aroused. His free hand slips down to touch himself, fingers wrapping around his own length as he matches the pace. The sensation of their hands moving in tandem, coupled with the attention they’re lavishing on you, makes your body tremble with need.

You ride Taehyung’s face, grinding down against his mouth as his tongue works magic on you, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he can. Your hands clutch the edges of the daybed for support, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you lose yourself in the sensations they’re giving you. Since you’re facing outwards, Taehyung’s hands slide down to grab your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulls you even closer, deepening the connection between his mouth and your most sensitive spot. His grip is firm and possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he devours you with renewed intensity. He gives it a slap, which makes you cringe before you go back to indulging in the pleasure.

The feeling of the two men’s mouths on your breasts, Taehyung’s tongue inside you, and the sight of their hands pleasuring each other is almost too much to bear. The pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your body quivering with the need to release.

Jimin and Jungkook suck harder on your nipples, their teeth grazing them just enough to send jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Taehyung’s tongue flicks and swirls with expert precision, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

And then, finally, it all becomes too much. The pleasure explodes within you, sending you spiraling into an intense orgasm that leaves you gasping for breath. Your body tenses, your thighs clenching around Taehyung’s head as you ride out the waves of ecstasy, the sensation amplified by the boys’ continued ministrations.

As the last tremors of your orgasm fade, you collapse forward slightly, your body spent and trembling. Taehyung gently guides you off him, his lips slick with your arousal, and you fall onto the daybed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook quickly follow, their own bodies shuddering as they reach their peaks, their releases mingling, landing onto each others bodies or the fabric beneath them.

Now the three of you lay there, breathless and spent, with limbs piled on top of each other. The air is thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction, however a yearning for more still remains. The outdoor area is quiet, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, as you all come down from the high of your shared pleasure.

Jungkook leans in close, his voice low and filled with unfulfilled desire. “I’m so eager to fuck you, but I’ll wait until tomorrow after the itinerary is done,” he murmurs, his eyes smoldering with lust as he looks down at you.

Jimin, still tenderly stroking your skin, adds with a soft smile, “We don’t want you getting into trouble, PD-nim. We’ll be patient.”

You manage a weak smile, your mind swirling with the aftershocks of what just happened. “How have the staff not conveniently come in to check on us?” you wonder aloud, your voice shaky with exhaustion and disbelief.

The three of them exchange a glance, a shared understanding passing between them. 

Don’t say that the staff are aware that they’re doing this…!? Taehyung’s words from earlier were already… odd, but you decide not to think too hard on it right now. You need to head back anyway, so let’s keep this drama-free, you think to yourself. Wouldn’t be the first time you hear about idols doing these things.

They begin to clean you up, wiping away the evidence of your intense encounter.  They’re gentle, their touches soothing as they take care of you, ensuring that you’re comfortable before helping you to your feet to get dressed.

They walk you to the door, each of them pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before they see you out, their eyes filled with satisfaction. You step out, your mind reeling from the events that just transpired.

“Oh my god…” you say to yourself in a whisper.

As you walk away from the daybed, you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this situation—tangled up with the three members of BTS in a way you never could have imagined. The memory of their hands, their mouths, their words lingers with you, a heady reminder of the connection you’ve just shared. And though you know the risks, the dangers of what you’ve done, you can’t bring yourself to regret a single moment.

With a deep breath, you start heading back to your accommodation, telling yourself you still have more days of this show’s filming to go. And more chance encounters with them as well.

-

-

-

The End????

A/N: HAPPY SURPRISE ONE SHOT DROP! OKAY. ALSO I HAD PLANNED TO BLUE BALL YOU GUYS AND NOT GIVE YOU A TAE SCENE BUT RAE SAID I SHOULD WRITE IT SO I DID! I've seen all y'all thirsting over are you sure?! and honestly, the maknae line really FED US SO WELL WITH THIS SHOW. also never in my life did i think there would be no censoring of their bodies, but thank you god for allowing us to indulge in their beauty and cute antics lmao. if you somehow survived this and made it to the end, thank you for reading and please let me know what you think or like bc i was going THROUGH IT writing this 🥴 if it wasn’t good, i am so sorry for wasting your time. 😭

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[ruerecs]

fanfic writers NEVER contemplate or apologise for your fic being over 3-5k words long, we readers LOVE longer fics!! anyways have a good day/night 🙂‍↕️

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(17)✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮⋆˙

.☘︎ ݁ what are you willing to do? | Jungkook X Reader | TwoShot | @trivia-yandere

.☘︎ ݁ Beneath His Love | jungkook x reader | TwoShot | @ctrlsht

.☘︎ ݁ starstruck | Actor!Jungkook X Actress!Reader | Series | @trivia-yandere

.☘︎ ݁ All This Time? | Jungkook x reader | TwoShot | @jimxnslight

.☘︎ ݁ play you like a game, boy. | antagonist! tribe leader jungkook x princess reader | @lilliankoo

.☘︎ ݁ cruel secrets | Twin!JK X Reader | OneShot | @hellokittykookies

.☘︎ ݁ Embrace of Ruins. | King jk x widowed (fem) reader | @jjkssin

.☘︎ ݁ boxer!jungkook | boxerjk x neuro doctor!oc | Series | @muniimyg

.☘︎ ݁ Bound by Fate, Chosen by Love | Werewolf!Jungkook x Witch!Reader | ThreeShot | @sweetvoidstuff

.☘︎ ݁The Grumpy Girlfriend Protection Program | Jungkook x (f.) Reader | OneShot | @jincapableoflove

.☘︎ ݁ HOLD ON TO ME | CeoHusband!Jungkook x Wife!Reader | @kooklovee

.☘︎ ݁ stuck with you | computer sci major/ shy/ nerdy! jungkook X econ major/ popular/ influencer! reader | Series | @focusonkayjay

.☘︎ ݁bridges we almost burned | jungkook x reader | OneShot | @kooffeecup

.☘︎ ݁ His unsaid vows | Mafia jk x (fem) reader | @jjkssin

.☘︎ ݁ loves me, loves me not | rich asshole!jk x girlboss!reader | @dreamersparacosm

.☘︎ ݁ TOO LATE | jungkook x reader | OneShot | @jksarchives

.☘︎ ݁ Who Is My Heart Waiting For? | Staff f!reader x Rockstar!Jungkook | OneShot | @ahgasegotarmy116

.☘︎ ݁ HEARTWEAVE | SPIDEY!J. JUNGKOOK X READER | @chrrybbmb

.☘︎ ݁ shameless | boxer!Jungkook X Reader | ThreeShot | @redcherrykook

.☘︎ ݁ Angel in the Darkness | Jungkook x Reader | Series | mafia!au, | prostitution!au | @icyhobi

[marknee]

bts fanfics i think shakespeare would enlist himself into the military just to show the boys.

chapter iv. ✷ chapter vi.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — he’s not really thinking about enlisting, is he?

( ♬ ) — what do you mean shakespeare shaved his head?.. oh no.

( ✎ ) — don’t military bases have security? how the hell did that man get inside?

( ♛ ) — he’s proper pulling a cross country right now. the boys look confused. and horrified.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: dear readers, did you miss me? it’s been a while since i’ve shared my secret recommendations with you. but, since the two year anniversary of this special series has recently passed, i thought it was about time i spoiled you again. i’ve had quite a while to think about this one. so, i hope you’re ready. let’s give shakespeare something to enlist for.

( ♛ ) AMALTHEA — by @daechwitatamic

!! seokjin x reader | 40k !!

best friend’s older brother!au, smut (18+), fluff, angst.

bfb! bfb! my best friend’s brother, my friend’s brother! bfb! bfb! my best friend’s brother, my best friend’s brother!

this is one of the BEST seokjin fics i’ve ever read. straight to the point but there is no other way to put it. got to the point i would wake up earlier just to read another chapter before work. i was always present, bitch.

alike most of you, as someone who reads A LOT (re: i have no credentials for this, just my mum), i can tell when someone pours their every blood, sweat and tears (ha.) into writing. and for me, this is one of those writers.

this writer really shocked me at how much i connected to this story whilst reading n how attached i felt after finishing. caught me off guard, but so did death to shakespeare… sooo, what can i say.

“it’s been over a decade since that night, and you still don't know if he meant his family, or you.” dude i wish you could’ve seen my face. lmfao.

let’s just say there’s a reason this one’s first. amazed. truly.

( ♛ ) MOON MAGIC — by @jincherie

!! hoseok x reader | 33.8k !!

mermaid!au, pirate!au, fluff (like.. teeth rotting).

“and he calls me mooonlight toooooo,” she sings into the empty crowd with tears in her eyes. she meaning me.

now i know i’m known for having a sweet tooth, but damn! youse are gonna eventually turn me into an elizabethan england commoner. y’know, the crap dental hygiene n all. (re: shakespeare’s teeth.)

but, you know me. i looooove a good ‘ol fantasy inspired fic, so i guess i’m willing to risk a little here. and this one was worth risking for.

slams hand onto the table. the world building! this writer was not playing around when it came to painting us a picture of the world they wanted to create. i wanna live in this fic i’m not joking. get me in touch with namjoon asap for some of that moon magic shit. ok, rolls credits.

perfect in every single way. this is my first run-in with this writer, but am i swimming (sorry.) my way over to their masterlist? yeeees.

“he laughs and tells you that, actually, it's probably the youngest three princes that are most beloved by all.”

yea girl. not on my watch. enjoy!

( ✎ ) ALL GROWN UP — by @btsgotjams27

!! jungkook x reader | 64k !!

friends to lovers, older woman/younger man, smut (18+).

the fact this fic was loosely inspired by one of my all-time comfort kdramas… i didn’t even have to question adding it to my list. it felt like i was watching it for the first time again… deeply sighs. ahhh the nostalgia…

i had this fic bookmarked on my ao3 for the looongest time, but it was only recently that i got round to actually reading it. and i’m so glad i did. bless her, she was waiting for her moment to shine. and it’s now.

youngest kids in the family please raise your hands! all in attendance! you are welcome and appreciated here. the feeling of desperation, trying to get people to see you as your current age rather than the little kid they’ll forever remember. i think that’s why i loved this fic so much: i could relate to it.

alike this story, most fics on here are on the older side of things. but honestly, if it’s good and genuine, it’ll last forever. no matter how much time has gone by. feelings stay - perhaps even grow?

the same for our adorable pair over here. could time play in their favour?

you let me know when you finish it.

( ✮ ) ALIVE AHA FXCK — by @softyoongiionly

!! vampire!yoongi x human!reader | 42k !!

vampire!au, smut (18+), soulmate!au (you know i had to), please read the trigger warnings.

devoured. no pun intended. though other vampire synonyms include but are not limited to: consumed, ate, guzzled, feasted etc… thank you google, after a few questionable internet searches.

i cannot tell you how glad i am that shakespeare never wrote about vampires. cuz he would’ve written my ass into that damn thing and killed me off from the things i’ve said about that guy. and the things i will continue to say…

i love this fic on a personal level. it reminds me of being fourteen again, curled up in my sheets as the sun reaches the tip of my windowsill and the morning chill settles in after a night of fighting sleep to finish a fanfic. it’s safe - i’m safe.

i genuinely had so much fun reading this story. the characterisation of both the reader and yoongi is so unhinged and playful and i’m obsessed. if i could recommend it to anyone, it would be my younger self cuz i know she’d love it :,). n she did!

y’know, sometimes you just gotta read a silly - infused with twilight puns - vampire-themed yoongi fic for the world to feel alright again.

and it did - for me. n now - for you.

( ♛ ) OLDER — by @lovieku

!! dilf!jk x inexperienced!reader | 18.2k !!

smut (18+), dilf!au, best friend’s father, age gap.

pure, undeniable and utter filth. in the best fuckin’ way possible. yea, if you could crawl into my mind, plunge into the inky depths of whatever lurks there.. this is what you’d find lying on the sand floor. unadulterated sin.

i am so disgustingly obsessed with this fic i can’t explain it, hence why it’s ended up on my shelf of recommendations. it scratches and pleases a deep, desperate itch in my brain. maybe it’s the age gap, who knows?

this writer has a talent for making us - or, me. - claw at something forbidden in an almost hungry advance. the sinner doing the sinning. and goddamn, i’m impressed. n i bet shakespeare is too. well, he fuckin’ better be.

the characters are imperfect and selfish and lustful, but oh my god i love them. add on dilf!jk with his slutty, unbuttoned shirts and you have me sold.

@lovieku you are such an amazing writer. you have such a way with how you express. do not underestimate that. i am beyond excited to see your future works :)

masterpiece. but what the fuck was that ending.

( ♛ ) HABITS OF A CLANDESTINE NATURE — by @alphabetboyluvr

!! college!jk x female!oc | 16k !!

rich!jk, waitress!oc, enemies to lovers, smut (18+).

he got, he got away! he got away! he got away! he’s got a way, he’s got a way! awayyyyheyeyyyyheyyy! yea, but didn’t manage to escape a 460-year-old poet, nor me.. so..

clementines, fruit trees, the sound of innocent laughter, wind chimes, a sheer blur of colour, soft hands. things that come to mind whenever i am reminded of this fic. a solid and beautiful depiction of hurt and love and everything in between.

this writer knew straight off the bat how to sell this pair to the audience. how to capture us and string us along for the journey of two hurting, longing and hurting all over again. shakespeare bought the hanging fruit that’s for damn sure… me too then, perhaps.

the vision for this story is perfect to me. i almost want to give the writer a kiss on the forehead.

i did write down one quote; used from the story. a way to sum it all up. “the perfect place to get lost. the perfect place to get found, too.”

if you’re looking for somewhere to get lost, i hope this satisfies that need. i also hope i come back to read this every once in a while. for old times sake. to get found again.

( ♬ ) GUILTY AS SIN — by @gldrushh

!! brother in law!jungkook x widow!reader | 32k !!

forbidden love!au, smut (18+), angst.

“it began to lose its meaning. healing. as if it were something—a destination you could stumble upon.” oh, don’t even talk to me. people died. shakepeare died. april 23rd 1616.

god, this story is just so raw in and of itself - perfectly depicting the human experience of love and loss. inevitable and sometimes unexpected. i was - n still remain - in awe.

i crossed by this fic unexpectedly and i’m so glad that whatever butterfly effect led me to finding this succeeded, but damn that action also had consequences… like real bad… haha….

i want to cry every time this fic crosses my mind. dramatic? lil bit. but when you read it, holy shit - this will make sense to you young’uns. in due time.

well, to be even more dramatic as such… my wounds from reading this are still fresh (i will sob don’t test me), so i hand the torch over to you to make of this story what you will.

please go into this fic with no expectations. go in willingly and just… fall into it. i will be on the other side when you resurface and i will definitely say something ironic.

like i told you so. xx.

( ♛ ) CALLING PRODUCER MIN YOONGI — by @bangtan-dreamland

!! yoongi x reader | 4.6k !!

strangers to lovers, just fluff all around.

now this is the bitch i aspire to be. dials random ass numbers of random ass strangers just to yap. oh yea, that’s my kinda girl. i just hope she knows she’s the coolest person ever to exist to me. i want to buy a star for her. a big, bright one.

i think i have said this before, but never ever underestimate the power of a drabble. a short fic of little can hold the weight of ten times that amount. especially this one (which i read that long ago but has ultimately ended up here - says it all tbh).

this fic is everything and more to me. i miss it when i’m not reading it, and i miss it when it’s right in front of me. it has me wanting to ring up random people in hopes of meeting my true love - which i won’t, but who knows what might happen?

also, to point out - the immense chemistry between these characters is off the charts. felt like i was intruding on my own phone call.

good dialogue? tick. amazing characterisation? tick. interesting plot? tick. has shakespeare wanting to never learn how to use a phone in case he puts this fic to shame? tick.

lol.

( ✎ ) THE LOVE PROGNOSIS — by @awrkive

!! surgeon!jk x surgeon!reader | 90.9k !!

roommates!au, medical!au, smut (18+), fluff.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh. aaaand scene!

can i be honest? y’all stress me the fuck out! and you know who you are! starts with ‘j’ ends with ‘k’. the other one being ‘s’ ends with ‘e’. but one of you i like more and it’s not you, shakespeare.

the time it took me to finish this insanely crafted three-parter was embarrassingly short. (i think i formed a dent in my bed). so when i finished i was - obviously - heartbroken, so i did what every sane person does. i read all the drabbles. aaaand the tlp social media extras. and listened to the playlist. and cried. duh.

whilst all the fics on here deserve their own kdrama, i feel this one would ruin me completely. it’s weightlifting fairy kim bok joo all over again. it’s potential is there. like, c’mon screenwriters. i know you want to. or just pay me to do it.

the characters, the yearning, the friendship - immediately gets flashbacks… - ten’s across the board!

@awrkive is one to look out for. for real. i - along with everyone else here - will be tuning in. full volume.

oh yea, whilst we’re all still here. fuck that other guy. you know who you are! (no spoilers here).

( ♛ ) LET’S GET QUIZZICAL — by @taleasnewastime

!! jimin x f!reader | 28.6k !!

friends to lovers, angst, smut (18+).

sooooo… what i’m hearing is.. we all weren’t aware flo rida’s stage name is just florida with a space..? right? right.? cuz when you say it like that..

having been a victim of multiple pub quizzes in my past (haven’t won - yet!) the dialogue in this story was fucking perfect and scary real, depicting the anxiety, thrill and pure adrenaline running through your body as you rack your brain of every dumb fact you’ve ever read and hope it’s made a home somewhere up there.

not to mention you gotta trust your teammates like your life depends on it - cuz it fuckin’ does. n park jimin being one of them? the rest of the teams… y’all better not even bother showing up atp.

i thought the manor of the story being told through its settings was.. a slice of genius. so so cool and helped set the tone too. every time we transported back to the quiz i clutched my pearls in sheer relief.

also, i wish i could’ve highlighted angst in bold cause damn! you really hit us round the head with that one. and ofc i loved it, but damn. take notes, shakespeare. we don’t have to be killing characters off to ruin mk’s life. hm?

nothing less than spectacular from our @taleasnewastime.

( ♬ ) TRICKS OF THE TRADE — by @stutterfly

!! yoongi x reader | 24.1k !!

body swap!au, soulmates!au (you know me), smut (18+), humour.

peers down through speckled glasses, what’s next..? …oh god. sighs heavily and licks pen.

so i knew from the moment i read ‘body swap’ within the tags that this concept was gonna be so fuckin’ weird but so damn good. and low n behold, it didn’t disappoint. luckily i am a lover of fuckin’ weird.

this concept is so difficult to write. the foreign sensation of a different body and trying to channel each thought n emotions involved is complicated to convey, but this author did it so incredibly well.

also, not to be that person… but that smut… i’m gon’ be sleeping soooo well tonight let’s just say that lmfao. 100/10. might go back n read it when i’m done with this.

blushing… X

shakespeare couldn’t even fathom a story such as this - and we’re talking about the guy who once wrote about an incestuous relationship between a king and his daughter.

crazy work. you are so cool @stutterfly.

( ✎ ) TRIVIA LOVE — by @luxekook

!! namjoon x reader | 5.4k !!

non idol!au, smut (18+).

to quote myself from my reblog on feb 26 2020, “why was i smiling the whole way throughout this??” n you know what? hell yea i still stand by that!

this is the second pub quiz fic i have within this chapter (surprisingly, but not disappointing), but the circumstances cannot be more different.

the first group i would join, perhaps even rally with a little. but if i’m ever attending a pub night and these mother fuckers are in tow, best believe i’m leaving. they’re not ones to fuck with yo. they have $20 to win. they mean war.

since we’re at the end, and i’m 100% convinced nobody is still reading these, soooo… i can speak my truth. someone get me on joon’s lap. you gon’ be calling me cinderella cuz it’s gonna fit perfectly by midnight bro. on the dot.

this is - n will always be - a classic to me. one that i will always return to eventually. i can dress up all i want with these big fics, but these smaller ones are always a guilty pleasure.

like cinderella returning to her mice friends (or whatever), i will always come back to @luxekook and their stories.

forever xoxo.

MARKNEE’S SPECIAL MENTIONS:

caught my attention, and deserve their flowers.

( ♬ ) THE DEVIL SKATES ON THIN ICE — by @vankoya

!! yoongi x reader | 60.5k !!

winter sports!au, fluff, angst, humour.

my love life also skates on thin ice. lmfao. especially after this.

( ✎ ) KNOCKED — by @sailoryooons

!! streamer!seokjin x f!reader | 10.6k !!

roommates to lovers, smut (18+), humour.

more like she’s about to knock him out.

( ♬ ) NEFARIOUS — by @yoonia

!! jimin x f!reader | 39.2k !!

sex club!au, gentlemen club!au, smut (18+).

lets out a long sigh. won’t be in a rush to forget this one.

( ✎ ) THINGS WE DON’T SAY — by @wintaerbaer

!! taehyung x reader | 54.5k !!

best friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut.

the found family trope is strooong.

© marknee, 2025. all rights reserved.

[seokjinsonlyone]

even more niche boyfriend things i think bts would do

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

namjoon:

not a newborn baby but is a big proponent of the kangaroo care concept; like loves to cuddle you while he’s shirtless; him on his back you laid on top of him, skin touching skin at every possible contact point; it does it for him every time

sends you pictures of animals he finds wandering around when he’s out and about 

takes soooo many pictures of you; don't get me wrong there's a fair share of couples photos like you're definitely taking selfies together whenever y'all go out but he takes twice as many off guard pictures of you as posed ones; definitely has a pic of you during golden hour forlornly looking out a window as his lockscreen

asks you to make him a playlist and listens to it whenever he misses you even if it's really disjointed and doesn't fit his mood simply bc you made it and he's always in the mood for you <333

learns to be more gentle around you so he becomes 5-7% less clumsy when you’re around

if you went to a party together i think there’d only be like one hour max where you’re separated from each other any more than that and y’all both start getting fidgety from missing each other bc if you’re in the same space you absolutely have to be together; when you do meet back up he tucks you up underneath his arm and kisses your temple and y’all are sickly cute for the rest of the night; like enough lovey dovey pda to make someone nauseous

always amazed at the amount of stuff you manage to bring out the house; like you'll come out after him and he sees you walking towards the car, arms stuffed to the brim with water bottles and lotions and umbrellas and whatever else you deemed necessary for the day's outings, so he has to rush to help you before you drop everything; eventually gets hip to the fact that you're a a girl and you're always gonna have bunch of things and starts pre-loading your belongings so you won't have to struggle

Oblivious Boyfriend™; as smart and emotionally intelligent and mindful as he is, he's not a mindreader; like he be so focused on his feelings for you, his passions, and his work that he lowkey don't know wtf going on outside of that; so if there's something going on around you or something wrong with you or you have a problem with him you're gonna have to spell it out lest he be none the wiser

doesn't like when you watch him work out because you're more of a distraction than anything but he does like going to you straight after working out; he gets a real kick out of the way you ogle him and feel up on his biceps while he's all pumped up 

he really likes when you call him cute nicknames; joon, joonie, joonie boonie, namu like it lowkey make his heart soar; his personal favorite is joon bug you call him that and he would literally steal the moon if you asked 

seokjin:

tests out all his new recipes on you; feeds you bites to taste along the way so you're not too hungry because he's a perfectionist and it takes him extra time for him to plate it; "the presentation is just as important as the taste!"

likes when you’re in the same room as him while he plays his games; not necessarily watching him but just your company is enough; switches between focusing on the game and engaging you in conversation so you won’t get bored; would actually love it if you did take an interest in whatever game he was playing; would take his time explaining the back story of each character and their strengths and weaknesses; would start a separate game so that you could play and have you sit between his legs while he helped you with the controls

has to kiss you at least 3 times before leaving the house; once when you wake up, once while you’re going through your morning routine, and once before you leave; more kisses may be shared but any less than three and he swears his whole day is thrown off

he’s going to pick at you; there’s just no way around it it’s in his nature; he won’t do it enough to make you actually annoyed but enough that you wanna smack him around a little; which… he likes things like that

has no problem singing and dancing whenever y'all are casually listening to music but if you actually wanted him to sing for you he'd get all shy, red in the ears and neck and would have to take a couple days to practice before following through

begs you to join him for tennis practice bc he wants you two to become the next venus and serena

y’all will do that one couples trend on tiktok where they paint each other and then reveal the pictures at the end and it’s not like yours is fantastic or anything but you can tell that you at least tried; meanwhile when you see seokjin’s painting you can’t tell if you’re looking at a distorted walrus or a possessed squirrel either way it is NOT you no matter how much he insists it looks like you

stays sending you thirst traps; like whenever he looks good whether it's bc he's all dolled up for some event or he's fresh out the shower with his hair slicked back or he just sees himself in a mirror and remembers he's worldwide handsome, his phone is out, he's putting a sultry look on his face, snapping a pic, and sending it straight to you

you binge watch animes together; no one will see or hear from either of y’all for like 5 days straight, complete radio silence; and when someone finally knocks on the door they see that y’all been camped out in the living room no phone in sight on season 6 of whatever anime y’all started last friday night  

must feed you every time you meet up; like if he has not seen you eat something in the time you spend together he has not completed his boyfriend duties; even if he comes to your place he has to make sure you have at least eaten a snack; doesn't matter how much you weigh he absolutely can not have you wasting away on his watch

yoongi:

gently tucks your hair behind your ear

always offers you his arm to link when it’s cold out so y’all can share each other’s warmth; he absolutely will still be wearing slides with no socks tho and you fuss at him about it every time

lets you play in his hair; just sits there nonchalantly while you give him the most ridiculous hair styles; pig tails, corn rows, mohawks; as long as you don’t cut nothing he doesn’t care fr; takes a picture when you’re done with that big gummy smile on full display bc of how silly he looks

says he's not a big social media person but one of his favorite past times is sitting down with you scrolling down your fyp for hours; makes you send the funniest videos to him so he can watch later

you’re one of the few people that he gains energy from being around so he likes your presence even when you’re not particularly doing anything; like you just be sitting next to each other or like be hand in hand on a walk around the neighborhood not even saying anything but in his head he’s thinking about what a great time he’s having 

if you're up late at night and start feeling peckish he'll make you some snacks even if he doesn't plan on eating; still scolds you about how eating late at night is bad as he's enabling you; ends up eating with you too

he doesn't like watching dramas with you; he'll claim it's bc of the plot but really he just doesn't like how you be kicking your feet and giggling at the male leads

not the best with verbal affirmations so whenever he does go out of his way to compliment you he ends up just as flustered as you are; “you look pretty today” and his cheeks are flushed more than yours 

always preps you to bargain and gathers together all coupons before y’all go grocery shopping; “just bc i’m rich doesn’t mean i like to be ripped off” 

he's always listening to you even when it seems like he's not; you could be rambling on about something and you think he's not paying attention so you stop midsentence and be like "are you even listening to what i'm saying?" and he looks up from whatever he was doing and then repeats back to you everything you said; has a great memory in general so he remembers everything you say and do even the small things that you forget about

hoseok:

sends ‘thinking of you’ texts just to let you know when you’re on his mind

if you start dancing to a song he gets all hyped up and he’s joining you immediately; hands on your hips moving you as he pleases; it’s a club wherever you and the music are

makes you one of his little beaded bracelets that says “ur my hope”

if you fell asleep in a position that looks uncomfortable he’d gently rearrange you until he got you in a more normal position; 100% the type to carry you bridal style to bed if you fell asleep for the night on the couch 

the type to pop up at your crib with an insane amount of the most exquisite, top tier take out and you gotta try to figure out who he think eating all this; doesn't even try to fight the boujee allegations when you tease him for bringing out caviar and truffles 

always takes pics of you when he thinks you look good; like you could be running late and you’re rushing trying to get out the door but hoseok is just gonna spend a good 30 seconds checking you out while you’re fussing at him and then be like wait a minute and starts posing you; has several organized folders of you because of this labeled by genre of your look; it’s easier that way so when he’s showing people pictures of you they won’t accidentally get a peek of something meant for his eyes only

loves the idea of you becoming his family so he really likes bringing you home; warms his heart to see you getting along with his parents and his sister; sets up a group chat with you him and his sister to help y'all talk more but lowkey gets pouty when y'all do get closer and be chatting and hanging out without him 💀

if you're not already together he'll facetime you in the morning; he won't have much to say at first other than a groggy good morning; but after he comes to terms with the fact that he has to be awake and takes a couple sips of his iced americano he's his usual ball of energy sunshiny self; will have you up doing morning stretches and light calisthenics at 6:30am

every couple weeks y'all go to the nail salon together and get mani-pedis; he leaves the acrylics and jewels and glitter to you but the overall color scheme and design aesthetic for your nails match; takes like 17 pictures of your hands together to show off

loves cuddling up to you on the couch so you can play in his hair; like each time his head is resting on your chest and your hand is running through his hair lightly scratching at his scalp he swears he’s reached nirvana 

jimin:

will drag you out the house in the middle of winter to drive down to the beach and watch the sunset together; you’d be huddled up together you sat in between his legs leaning against him his arms draped around your neck pulling you into him; you’d stay there sitting in the sand even after the night settled in just talking until you were shivering and sniffling then he’d take you to a cafe to get some hot cocoa to warm up 

randomly calls you in the middle of the night bc he misses your voice; smiles the entire he’s getting scolded for scaring you bc you thought something was wrong bc he called you at 2am

kisses your forehead, nose, and lips in that order every time you part ways 

hates knowing there's other people staring at you so like if you're out together and wearing like a hoodie or something and he notices you're garnering attention he zips it all the way up and pulls your hood over your head and tightens the strings so no one can see you; in turn knows you hate the thought that other people even think of him so he pretends they don't even exist; like you can literally point somebody out and be like "omg aren't they so pretty" and he's gonna avert his eyes in the opposite direction won't even look and just be like "you're so pretty. there's only you"

number one advocate for a lazy morning; snuggles into you, his head on your chest trapping you in; looks up at you with a goofy smile and preens when you press a kiss to his forehead

squishes your cheeks in both his hands when you're being too cute for him to handle

like the true feminist he is, he supports your rights and wrongs!!; like you get into it with somebody and then tell him the story afterwards he's hyping you up the entire time telling you that you were right and what you should've done and what he would've done if he were you; he's just always gonna be on your side

riles you up just bc he likes the reactions you make when you’re irritated 

it’s tea city when it comes to you two; like whatever you know he knows and whatever he knows you know; gossiping is actually one of your favorite bonding activities; he likes to play it up and drag it out whenever he finds something out; like he’s gonna text you and be like UR NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!!!!! and you’ll be like WHAT and he’ll be like I HAVE TO TELL YOU IN PERSON OMG!!!! 😱 when it’s like noon knowing darn well he not getting off work until 10pm at the earliest 😭

likes to go with you when you have to “run errands” bc it’s usually just you doing girl things like getting coffee and then going to the store to buy snacks and skincare and he thinks it’s really adorable how you light up when you see small things in cute packages

taehyung:

has a series of like 12 hour logs in his phone recents list bc he stay falling asleep on facetime

makes it a point to hang out with your male friends just to assert dominance; doesn't matter if they have partners of their own or are completely uninterested in you he still wants to look them in their eye, shake their hand, and then put his arm around you to tie up any loose ends that may be dangling around

helps you pick the eyelashes out of your eye whenever one gets stuck

asks you to come over with the sole purpose of convincing you to take a nap with him; will straight up lie on the phone and tell you he wanna hang out and do this and that and then when you get over there he like let’s nap first; your cuddles just gon do it for him every time

uses kisses as bargaining chips; like if you need him to do something like idk take out the trash he's only gonna do it if you give him 3 kisses so you give him one as a down payment and the other 2 after he completes the task; (he was always gonna do what you asked but kisses make everything better)

likes to keep his hands free when he's out and about so he's always adding extra stuff to your purse; because he's always in your bag, he knows its exact content; you'll be frantically searching for your lip gloss and he'll ask what you're looking for and when you tell him he'll pull it out of some random side pocket he moved it to so he could make room for his stuff

will randomly wake up out of his sleep and call you just bc you crossed his mind; takes like 30 seconds to respond to anything you say bc he only half awake; the call lasts for like three minutes before he hangs up to go back to sleep 

as a big fan of roleplay at least once in your relationship he's gonna make y'all get all dressed up and go to a bar separately and act like strangers and he's gonna pretend to pick you up

if you sent him out to pick up period products last minute he’s the type that ask if you wanted lemon or lime flavor bc one package is yellow and the other is green 😭; alternatively would ask what’s your coochie size when he noticed the numbers on it

he’s not gonna let you win at any game you play; doesn’t matter how much you whine and pout he likes winning too much; god forbid you’re actually good at something he’s gonna try his very hardest and will even practice so that he eventually beats you; will give you all the prizes tho

jungkook:

if he gets bored while you’re asleep he’s gonna start messing with you; his favorite go to games are flicking your bottom lip until you tuck it in or start to gain consciousness and stacking cheerios on your forehead; his personal best is 9 of em 

hooks his chin over your shoulder to be nosy when you’re watching something on your phone that catches his attention

he understands that you’re not as nocturnal as he is but sometimes when you stay over at his place and he feels restless he can’t help but crave your attention; will wake you up at 4am gently with kisses so you can try some of the food he made; you’ll be half asleep with him kneeling in front of you feeding you some spicy noodles; he’ll patiently wait for you to finish chewing before he asks you if it’s good; makes you take at least one more bite before kissing your forehead and letting you go back to sleep; tucks himself up next to you about an hour later after he finishes cleaning up after himself 

you make funny tiktoks together; they never leave the drafts of course except for when he finds it particularly hilarious and sends it in the group chat 

threatens to beat up anyone who upsets you; like you tell him a story about someone who was upsetting you at work and his first response is "bring them to me. i'll take care of it"; and lord don't let someone get carried away at a club or something like if a guy starts hitting on you and won't take no for an answer before you can even tell them off he's already at the scene one shove away from being breaking news on every media outlet in the world

gets pouty when you have a night out without him but he understands the need for balance so doesn’t put up too much of a fight; his only stipulation is that if you can’t make it home on your own or your friends can’t drop you off that you always always call him; the thought of you getting into some randos car late at night when you’re not even mentally there all the way sends chills up his spine; he can’t sleep unless he knows you’re at home safe and sound anyway 

doesn't consciously have a preference for how you dress like he thinks you look good in whatever but you in a dress or a skirt itches a particular part of his id that would have carl jung doing backflips; like whenever you pop out in a dress or a skirt he's coming up to you and giving you a kiss on the lips while his arms wrap around your waist and 10-30 seconds later they're dropping down and his hands are toying with the ends of your garment and grazing your thighs underneath it; it just does it for him every time

you're his safe place <333; he goes through periods where you're the only person he wants to see; he will scare you half to death like you'll get off work and go home and you hear all this noise and whole time it's him in your kitchen making sandwiches for lunch; will make up for scaring you by tucking your face into his neck while his arms are wrapped tightly around you so he can breathe you in and then cupping your face and giving you kisses; you're his baby

you have matching hyperfixations; like one of you will get into something and won’t shut up about it and then being the supportive partner you are whenever you’re on social media you send the posts you stumble across to them; but then the algorithm picks up on it and the content keeps popping so often that you actually start being entertained by it too; then y’all won’t shut up about it and have inside jokes and no one ever knows what y’all are talking about bc it’s so deep down into the referential millennial dadaism

gets offended if you’re walking side by side and not touching in some way; like if you start walking ahead of him or something he’s gonna clear his throat very pointedly and when you look at him like ???? he’s gonna look at you like you’re stupid and pull you into him where you belong 

a/n: as promised she is back 🫡 thank you to everyone who encouraged me to repost 💕 pls continue to be kind my mental state is probably worse than it was before LOL

[bytemee]

MAKE A WISH — yu jimin.

"it's your birthday, make a wish."

synopsis. it's your birthday.

pairing. sugar!mommy!karina x beefy!gp!reader

warning(s). 18+ (smut), g!p reader, dom!karina(?), oral (r receiving), unprotected sex, finishing inside ahaha, she calls u good girl ahahadiohgjh, L smut, and let me know if there's more!

words. 2. sum k

authors note. would become an idol just to try the cakes they give them and drop it on purpose

navigation. main masterlist. request.

you barely had the energy to unlock the door.

your body ached from another brutal shift, your mind foggy from endless assignments and back-to-back exams. all you wanted was to collapse face-first into bed and maybe sleep for twelve hours straight.

your birthday barely crossed your mind.

but the second you stepped inside, the scent of something sweet hit you—vanilla, caramelized sugar, and something faintly floral.

karina stood in the center of your small apartment, looking devastatingly beautiful in an off-shoulder black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. her hair fell over one shoulder in soft waves, framing her lovely face and bright smile.

a small, elegant cake sat on the counter, a single candle flickering on top.

and then, there were the gifts.

boxes—neatly wrapped in expensive paper—lined your coffee table. chanel, cartier, prada. a sleek black bag sat beside them, probably stuffed with things you couldn’t afford even if you worked a hundred shifts.

you sighed, dropping your bag. “karina…”

she tilted her head. “you sound disappointed.”

you stepped closer, rubbing a hand down your face. “i told you not to get me anything.”

a slow smirk curled her lips. “and i told you it wasn’t up to you.”

your shoulders slumped as you sighed, but before you could say anything else, she was already moving. in a few steps, she was behind you, her hands sliding over your shoulders, applying just enough pressure to make you groan.

“you work too hard,” she murmured, kneading into the knots at the base of your neck.

you let out an involuntary hum, your body betraying you as you melted beneath her touch.

“i have to,” you mumbled, leaning back slightly.

karina tsked, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “not tonight.” she reached forward, resting her hands on your shoulders as she guided you toward the table. “sit down, baby.”

you didn’t have the energy to fight her, so you sank into the chair in front of the cake. the small flame flickered, casting warm light across karina’s features as she leaned against the counter beside you.

“make a wish,” she said, her voice softer now.

you stared at the candle, feeling a lump rise in your throat.

there were so many things you could wish for—less stress, more sleep, a break from the relentless pressure of school and work.

but the truth was, the only thing you wanted was her.

so, you closed your eyes, inhaled deeply, and blew out the candle.

when you opened them again, her hands slid down your arms, her lips brushing your cheek. “good girl,” she murmured against your skin.

a shiver ran down your spine, heat pooling low in your stomach.

you turned your head slightly, catching the teasing smirk on her face. you bit your lip, fighting a smile as she pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. it was a quick brush of her lips, but it sent your heart racing. “if you keep calling me that,” you muttered, “i’m gonna start thinking you want something from me.”

karina chuckled softly, pressing another kiss to your neck. “who says i don’t?”

a soft sigh escaped you, your eyes fluttering shut as you reached for her, fingers curling around the silk of her dress as you tugged her closer. she let you, settling between your legs with an amused hum.

her hands slid down your arms, fingertips tracing the veins along your forearms before she intertwined your fingers with hers.

“you’re supposed to be the one spoiling me tonight,” you murmured, squeezing her hands gently.

karina leaned in, her nose brushing yours, her breath warm against your lips.

“then let me,” she whispered.

you didn’t hesitate.

tilting your head, you closed the distance, capturing her lips with your own. karina released your hands, reaching up to cup your face as she kissed you back eagerly. there was none of her usual finesse, none of the slow buildup that drove you wild. it was all heat and desperation, tongues sliding together, teeth clashing in their rush to taste each other.

and god, did she taste good.

it made your head spin as she pressed against you, her lips moving against yours hungrily. your hands came to rest on her waist, holding her close as she pushed forward. her thigh slid between your legs, dragging against your groin as she crowded you against the table.

a moan slipped past your lips, swallowed by her kiss.

she pulled away just far enough to rest her forehead against yours, her dark eyes filled with lust.

you tightened your grip on her waist, tugging her down onto your lap as her fingers threaded into your hair. karina let out a small gasp, her hips rocking against yours instinctively as you buried your face in the crook of her neck. you trailed kisses along her skin, biting softly at the juncture where her shoulder met her neck. she rolled her hips again, sending another jolt of arousal straight to your front.

the scent of her perfume filled your lungs with every shaky breath you took, drowning out the sweetness of the cake beside you.

"best birthday gift ever," you mumbled against her collarbone.

karina laughed, the sound bright and beautiful. "wait! try the cake."

you pulled away, cocking an eyebrow.

she smiled, reaching over to pluck a fork off the counter before scooping up some frosting. she lifted it toward your mouth, watching as your lips parted obediently, taking the bite without question.

"mmm," you sighed happily as the vanilla melted across your tongue.

karina smiled, pulling the fork back. you watched as she licked the remaining frosting from it, swallowing thickly when she caught you staring.

"want another?" she asked, lifting another forkful to your lips.

you nodded, opening wide as she slid the bite into your mouth. you moaned at the taste, closing your eyes to savor the rich chocolate. when you opened them again, karina's gaze was fixed on your lips, her own parting slightly as she watched you suck the last bits of frosting from the fork.

karina’s fingers twitched against your arm.

her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching just enough for you to catch it.

"careful," she murmured, leaning in.

your pulse roared in your ears as her lips brushed your jaw.

"or i might start thinking…"

she kissed the corner of your mouth.

"that you’re the one who wants something."

your grip tightened on her waist.

"maybe i do. it's my birthday after all," you murmured back.

she set the fork aside, pushing away from you to stand upright. she held out her hand, and you took it, letting her pull you up and toward the bedroom. you felt a flush spread across your cheeks, warmth flooding your chest as she guided you to sit on the edge of the bed.

her hands cupped your face again, tilting your head up as she leaned in to kiss you. you could still taste the chocolate on her tongue as it slipped past your lips, dancing over yours in a teasing motion. her fingers slid into your hair, twisting it lightly as she pulled away.

"let's get this off," she whispered.

she tugged at your shirt, helping you out of it before tossing it aside. her fingers traced along your collarbone, down the slope of your shoulders, nails scraping lightly over your ribs. her hands roamed lower, fingertips brushing over your stomach, tracing the firm lines of muscle with a featherlight touch.

"i love your body," she murmured, almost to herself.

her nails dragged lightly across your abs, teasing the defined ridges, before pressing just a little firmer. "so strong," she mused, hands ghosting over your sides, fingertips skating along every dip and curve.

her hands found your hips, thumbs stroking across the sensitive skin as she leaned in again.

she pressed soft kisses down the column of your neck, pausing to nibble at your pulse point. her lips curved into a smile against your skin, and you shivered.

"my big, strong baby."

you could hear the amusement in her voice, and you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in your throat.

"are you making fun of me?" you asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of her face.

"not at all," she replied, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

she flashed a playful smile, leaning in for a quick peck before dropping to her knees. you watched as her fingers slid over the waistband of your jeans, unbuttoning them deftly. "rina—"

"shh," she said, her tone gentle. "let me."

you swallowed, nodding.

she tugged at the material, easing it off your hips. you lifted them slightly, allowing her to slide the pants down, her eyes fixed on your face. once they were gone, she placed a kiss against the inside of your knee, then the other, her hands resting on your thighs as she continued upwards.

"such a good girl," she breathed.

you shuddered.

karina nipped at your thigh, making you gasp, her teeth sinking deeper. you groaned as her tongue soothed the bite, tracing along the mark before moving higher. she stopped just below your boxers, looking up at you through her lashes.

you sucked in a sharp breath, anticipation building in your stomach. "you want it, baby?"

your head was spinning, every nerve ending firing. you could feel yourself getting harder, and she hadn't even touched you yet.

you bit your lip, nodding eagerly.

"use your words."

"yes," you breathed. "please."

she smiled, pressing one last kiss to your thigh before shifting closer. she ran her hands up the length of your legs, her fingers trailing over the fabric, tracing the outline of your bulge. you whimpered, trying not to buck into her touch.

"so eager."

she tugged your boxers down, freeing your length, her hand wrapping around the base. you couldn't help the groan that spilled past your lips, and her smile widened. she pumped slowly, working you over in long, firm strokes.

"fuck," you muttered, arching into her grip.

she lowered her head, her tongue darting out to swirl around the tip, lapping at the precum leaking from the slit. your eyes rolled back as she took you into her mouth, the warmth and wetness enveloping you completely.

she bobbed up and down, sucking hard while twisting her wrist just right. you reached for her hair, tangling your fingers in the soft strands, tugging gently whenever she did something particularly pleasurable.

your hips jerked forward involuntarily when her teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, drawing another moan from her lips.

you watched as she pulled off you with a pop, releasing your cock so she could reach up and cup your face again. her thumbs stroked across your cheekbones tenderly. "i love how you feel inside me," she whispered, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips.

she released you, pushing herself to her feet and stepping away.

"get on the bed, baby."

you crawled backward obediently until your back hit the headboard. she climbed onto the mattress beside you, straddling your lap, her thighs bracketing yours. her hands slid beneath the straps of her dress, slipping them down her arms and shimmying out of the garment.

you stared openly, drinking in the sight of her beautiful body—the smooth expanse of her skin, the curve of her breasts, the slope of her waist, the swell of her ass. she smirked, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra and letting it fall to the side. you leaned forward, taking one nipple into your mouth and sucking lightly as your hands squeezed her hips.

"god, you're perfect," you mumbled between kisses.

she laughed softly. "don't stop," she murmured, pushing gently against your chest. you released her breast, trailing kisses down the valley between them. "that feels amazing," she breathed, leaning back to give you better access. you switched to her other breast, lavishing it with attention.

her hips rocked against yours, grinding against your length, coating you in her arousal. you groaned, thrusting up instinctively. "baby," you whined. "please."

karina hummed, pulling away from you. "you want to fuck me?" she asked teasingly, reaching down to stroke your cock.

you nodded desperately, panting heavily.

she lifted her hips slightly, allowing you to guide your length into her entrance. she sank down slowly, inch by inch, eyes fluttering shut as she stretched around you. your head fell back against the headboard, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. once she'd taken all of you, she paused for a moment, adjusting to the feeling.

karina's eyes opened again, gazing down at you hungrily. "fuck," she moaned, rolling her hips experimentally. she was beginning to believe it was her birthday, not yours. to have you here, like this, moaning beneath her.

her own personal gift.

you gasped, nails biting into her skin. "rina…"

"i know, baby," she whispered soothingly, lifting herself up slightly before sinking back down onto you. your hands moved to grip her waist, guiding her movements as she set a rhythm that had you both gasping for breath.

you arched into her, burying your face in the crook of her neck as her walls fluttered around you. "so good," you mumbled.

"yeah?" she replied, grinning.

"yeah," you replied, lifting your head to meet her gaze. "so fucking good."

her smile was soft and warm. her hands framed your face, brushing your hair off your forehead before she leaned in. you pressed your lips to hers, kissing her slowly and sweetly. karina melted against you, her tongue sliding past your lips to caress yours. her arms slid around your neck, holding you close as you moved together, your hips meeting each thrust.

she broke the kiss with a gasp when you hit a particularly sensitive spot, throwing her head back. your eyes widened at the sight, taking in the way her breasts bounced with every movement, how her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted.

she was beautiful.

you trailed kisses along her collarbone, biting softly before nipping at the hollow of her throat.

"oh," she sighed, rolling her hips harder, grinding against you.

"you like that?" you asked, your voice rough and low.

she nodded, a small whimper escaping her lips. "yes."

you grinned, repeating the action, adding some pressure to her clit. she moaned louder, her fingers tangling in your hair and tugging lightly. "don't stop," she breathed. "keep doing that."

you obliged, pressing a kiss against her pulse point.

"come on, rina," you said, gripping her hips firmly and thrusting up harder. "tell me how much you like it."

she cried out, her back arching as you continued your ministrations.

"i love it," she managed, breathless. "i love the way you feel inside me."

you groaned, sucking a mark into her neck as she spoke. "fuck, rina…"

she pulled away, leaning back until she was practically sitting in your lap, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders. your grip tightened on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh. "so big," she moaned, rolling her hips again, sending a jolt of pleasure through both of you.

"karina…"

your eyes fluttered shut, mouth falling open as you chased your high. "mm, i'm close," you warned her.

she hummed, speeding up her movements as she rode you harder. you thrust upwards, meeting her every stroke.

"me too," she panted, squeezing your shoulders tightly. "don't stop."

your breath caught in your throat, chest heaving with every ragged breath. your climax was building rapidly, heat coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach, threatening to snap at any moment. "fuck," you gasped.

"please," she begged. "i need you."

"i'm right here," you promised, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, burying your face in the crook of her neck.

"please," she repeated, nails scratching along your scalp. "i want it so badly. please, please, please," she murmured, cupping your cheeks. "i've got you. i'm gonna take care of you, baby."

your jaw clenched, your eyes squeezing shut. "rina, fuck. i'm gonna—"

a string of curses fell from your lips, hips jerking erratically as you spilled into her. your entire body trembled, the force of your orgasm leaving you dizzy. you were vaguely aware of karina's hand tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as her hips continued to move, riding out her own release.

your name fell from her lips, a chorus of desperate whimpers and gasps, until finally she collapsed against you. you held her close, stroking her hair while she recovered.

"i love you," she whispered, lifting her head to meet your gaze. "so much."

"i love you too," you replied, smiling softly. "thank you."

she shook her head. "no, thank you." she leaned in, capturing your lips with hers, kissing you deeply and passionately. "happy birthday, baby."

you beamed. "best birthday ever."

"better than the cake?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

you laughed. "well…maybe not."

karina snorted, burying her face in your neck.

[jjkssin]

Embrace of Ruins. Jk

Pairing: King jk x widowed (fem) reader.

Character count: 14,962

Genre: Dark Romance | Historical

Tropes: Dominant , controlling jk, forced proximity, obsession , captive romance, war , fragile female lead, mentions of death, mature.

Summary: When ruthless warlord Jeon conquers a rival kingdom, he slaughters its royal bloodline including the cruel king who once claimed Y/N as his wife. But instead of casting her aside, Jeon takes her as his own, stripping her of her former title and making her his possession. She was never meant to be a queen. She was meant to be his.

The air reeked of blood and burning wood, the sky dark with the smoke of a fallen kingdom. Screams had long since faded into silence, leaving only the sound of victorious banners fluttering in the wind.

The Kingdom had fallen.

This was not just another kingdom swallowed by his empire. No this war had been waged with a purpose far beyond power. It was her. The ghost of a woman he had never seen, only heard of in whispers the famed beauty of the lost kingdom, Y/N.

People had spoken of her ethereal grace, of her skin that glowed like moonlight and eyes that held galaxies within them.

At the heart of the carnage, Jeon sat upon the grand throne, one boot resting on the fallen king’s lifeless body and the golden crown of the fallen king crushed beneath his boot.

The scent of blood and smoke lingered in the air mingling with the screams of the last remnants of a dying dynasty.

His victory was absolute. The kingdom now belonged to him. And so did everything within it.

Including her.

She was a vision in a silk dress , the color of winter’s first snow.

___

Amidst it all, She ran.

Bare feet against the cold marble, her silken gown now soaked in the lifeblood of her people, dragging behind her like a ghostly shroud. The palace corridors, once familiar, had become a maze of death and ruin. She barely noticed the bodies, the shattered glass of once grand chandeliers. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heartbeat, the rasp of her breath and the distant clamor of armored boots in pursuit.

She had seen him.

He had stood amidst the wreckage of her throne room, a wolf in the den of slaughter, dark eyes scanning the ruin with calculated indifference.

He had looked at her like a claim already made, and that had been enough to send her fleeing.

She stumbled through the grand doors of the palace and into the frozen night, her thin gown no barrier against the relentless cold. Snowflakes kissed her tear streaked cheeks as she pushed forward, her breath rising in desperate clouds.

The forest loomed ahead a tangle of frostbitten branches and endless dark. She plunged into its depths without hesitation. The crown she had once been forced to wear had been torn from her head, her hair cascading around her face in disheveled waves.

The trees whispered around her, the wind howling like a grieving specter. Her feet tore through the frozen undergrowth, bare skin sliced by unseen thorns but she did not stop.

She could not stop.

She knew they would come. She had seen it in his eyes obsidian pools that swallowed light, a gaze that spoke of possession and a hunger far more dangerous than the battlefield he had razed.

She tried to be silent, tried to disappear into the vast expanse of snow and night but her body betrayed her. A misstep her foot catching on a hidden root sent her tumbling forward. She crashed into the snow, pain exploding through her limbs as she gasped, clawing at the frost with trembling hands.

She scrambled to rise, but it was too late.

A shadow loomed over her, swallowing the pale light of the moon.

Him.

The air shifted with his presence, heavy with something she could not name. His breath came steady, controlled, unaffected by the chase. He had known this would happen. He had allowed her to run, entertained her futile escape before closing in like a beast playing with his prey.

"You thought you could run from me?" His voice was velvet over steel, dark and slow, as though savoring the moment.

Y/N trembled, her body wracked with exhaustion, yet she found herself inching back, her palms sinking into the snow.

Jeon crouched before her, gloved fingers tilting her chin upwards, forcing her to meet the gaze she had so desperately tried to avoid.

"You should know better" he murmured, his lips brushing against hers. "I do not chase what I do not intend to catch."

The rumors had not done her justice.

She was exquisite, a masterpiece carved by the gods themselves.

Even in her disarray, she was ethereal.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she did not fight. She had nothing left to fight for.

A cruel smile tugged at Jeon's lips as he leaned forward.

"Your king is dead. Your kingdom is mine"

With that his hand moved lower, gliding down the torn fabric of her gown, feeling the tremor beneath his touch. And then without warning, he slid his arms beneath her one under her knees, the other wrapping around her back.

She gasped as the ground disappeared beneath her, the sudden closeness of him knocking the breath from her lungs. Her hands instinctively grasped at his shoulders, clutching at the thick fabric of his cloak as he lifted her effortlessly.

The world around them blurred as Jeon carried her back, his strides slow, deliberate, savoring every second of the act.

His men stood waiting at the forest’s edge, their eyes carefully averted, knowing better than to interrupt.

Jeon was the master of every inch of this kingdom now but she was a different kind of victory.

A victory he would not let slip from his grasp

__

Jeon had wanted her from the moment he had laid eyes on her. A forbidden desire had taken root deep within him when he had first seen her beside the now dead king , a man unworthy of even touching the hem of her gown, much less claiming her as his.

__

The journey from the snow laden forest to Jeon’s kingdom was a silent one. His kingdom loomed ahead like a fortress of stone, walls that could never be breached.

When they finally crossed the threshold into the warmth of Jeon’s kingdom, the heavy iron gates closed behind them with a resounding clang, sealing off the outside world.

He called for his servants, his voice firm and authoritative.

“Take her to my chambers,” he ordered coldly. “Strip her of the dead king’s colors. She wears only what I give her now.”

__

The scent of lavender and jasmine filled the air as the maids scrubbed away the blood, the dirt, the remnants of her former life.

But no matter how many times they washed her, no matter how many hands gently soothed her skin, there were things that could not be erased.

The marks on her body. The scars both physical and emotional that she had borne under her husband’s cruel reign.

Afterward, Y/N was dressed in a delicate white nightgown. It clung to her thin frame, the silk soft against her skin, but it did nothing to ease the chill in her bones. The gown was far more modest than the opulent dress she had worn in her past life but it was far too intimate for her current circumstances.

As the maids finished their task, they led her down the stone corridors of Jeon’s castle to his private chambers.

The room was enormous, warm with a roaring fire. She stood silently before him, her eyes cast downward. Jeon stood by the bed his posture strong, unyielding and as always, a palpable aura of control surrounded him.

He moved toward her without a word, his presence overwhelming.

His eyes narrowed as they settled on her shoulders and arms.

His fingers hovered near her shoulder, brushing against the faded remnants of bruises.

“That pathetic excuse for a king,” he spat, his voice dripping with disgust.

“A man unworthy of a throne, unworthy of a crown and certainly unworthy of you."

Jeon growled, his hands flexing as if he longed to tear apart a man who was already rotting in the ground.

"What did you call him?" he mused, tilting his head. "My king? My husband?" He laughed, dark and mocking.

"No king allows his castle to fall while he cowers in his chambers. And a husband…" He paused, his fingers ghosting over the fading bruises on her wrist.

His expression turned cold. "A husband does not treat his wife like a common whore to be used and discarded. I barely had to lift my blade before he was groveling at my feet, begging for his life like a spineless dog"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, the image flashing in her mind. She had not loved the king, but his death had been brutal. The sound of steel slicing through flesh, the gurgled choking as he bled out it haunted her.

Jeon exhaled, stepping back slightly.

"I should make you my whore," he mused. "A slave to warm my bed, nothing more. It would be fitting for the widow of such a disgraceful man."

Her stomach twisted in fear.

"But no," he murmured, as if reconsidering. "Though your husband was a disgrace, you are now mine"

His gaze darkened, something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

"Did he ever touch you properly?" Jeon murmured, his voice turning low, almost teasing.

Jeon chuckled darkly. “Of course not. I imagine he was just as pathetic in bed as he was on the battlefield. Weak. Incompetent.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her ear. “Did he even know what to do with you? Or did he fumble like the fool he was?”

Y/N’s breath stuttered. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating. She didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to think about it.

Jeon chuckled at her silence.

“You will no longer be a widow,” he said casually, as if discussing the weather.

“You will be my wife. You wil bear my mark and sleep in my bed and by the time I am done with you, you will forget you ever belonged to anyone else.” His voice low in command.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. "W-what?

Jeon smirked, amused by her reaction. "You are still royalty, no matter how pathetic your bloodline is. And I do not waste what has value." He reached for her again, his fingers brushing over the fabric of her underdress.

Before she could protest, Jeon grasped the thin strap of her underdress and pulled, the silk slipping from her shoulder with ease.

Y/N gasped, instinctively clutching the fabric to her chest.

"Still shy?" His fingers trailed down her arm, his touch deceptively soft.

"Your husband must have taken his pleasures without care. Rushed. Unskilled."

His gaze flickered over her, unreadable.

"A shame. I prefer to savor what is mine."

Y/N trembled as he grasped the other strap, slowly sliding it down her shoulder. The silk pooled at her collarbones, threatening to slip further.

Y/N’s throat tightened, a tear slipping down her cheek . Heat rushed to her cheeks, shame and something unfamiliar twisting inside her.

"You were wasted on him," Jeon murmured. "But you will not be wasted on me."

His hand gripped her waist, pulling her closer. She gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"You will be my wife before the sun rises. And no kingdom, no force in this world will take you from me."

Jeon murmured, his voice laced with something deeper, something unshakable.

“I could touch you in ways that pathetic fool never could. I could make you beg, make you forget he ever existed.”

His hands slid lower, gripping her thighs holding her still.

“You will know what it means to be wanted,” he promised. “To be craved.”

She closed her eyes as his lips descended, as his touch deepened, as the last of her old self was stripped away like the silks of her gown.

She had been the queen of a doomed king. A nameless ghost in a gilded cage. A woman forgotten by the very man who had sworn to own her.

But Jeon was not a man who forgot what belonged to him.

He pressed her back against the silk draped bed, his gaze burning into hers as he loomed above her, all shadow and heat, all power and intent.

"You will curse me," he whispered, his lips hovering just above hers, "and you will crave me all the same."

His mouth claimed her then, slow and consuming, as if proving his words true. As if sealing the vow between them with something far more binding than marriage, more damning than devotion.

She let herself sink, let herself be undone, because there was no kingdom left to fight for, no crown left to bear, only this. Only him.

And as his hands traced a path of ruin and worship alike, she realized something with aching finality.

She was not lost. She had simply been claimed.

__

The first light of dawn crept through the towering windows, painting the stone walls in hues of muted gold. The warmth of the sun did nothing to chase away the lingering shadows of the night before.

She stirred, her body aching not from pain, but from the imprint of him.

Her body heavy with exhaustion.

Her skin burned where his touch had claimed her, the memory of his hands and his voice still lingering in her senses like a lingering scent, impossible to escape.

She blinked against the morning light, the thick, heavy silence of the room pressing down upon her. The bed was empty beside her, the space where Jeon had been only a ghost of heat.

A low voice broke the silence. “Did you sleep well?”

Her body tensed, her muscles still trembling from the storm of the night before. Jeon stood near the tall windows, his silhouette framed by the light, his presence as imposing as ever.

He looked unchanged powerful, untouchable.

"Get up," he commanded, already reaching for the black silk robe draped over a nearby chair. "We have matters to attend to."

She hesitated, sitting up slowly, the silk sheets slipping from her bare shoulders.

"What matters?"

Jeon turned, fastening the robe around his waist, "Our wedding."

Her breath caught.

Jeon chuckled, "What? Did you think I would leave you as a nameless concubine?" He stepped closer, gripping her chin between his fingers.

She searched his gaze, trying to understand, to make sense of this shift. "Then... I will be the queen of this place?"

"You wish to rule?" His voice was measured but there was an edge of something deeper beneath it.

Y/N swallowed hard. "No. But.." She hesitated, unsure how to put the ache in her.

She trailed off, shame burning in her throat.

Jeon studied her, a thoughtful hum vibrating from his chest. "You are not meant for war," he said at last.

"Not meant for bloodshed and for dirty politics." He tilted his head, his gaze heavy.

"You are meant for me."

His words did not soothe her as he likely intended them to.

She had listened. She had obeyed. She had surrendered in body.

But she would not surrender this.

"I will not marry you," she said, her voice quiet, yet firm.

"I will not be your wife unless I am your queen," Y/N said, her voice trembling but unwavering. "You took my kingdom, my home, my name. If I am to be bound to you, I will not be just another possession. "

His fingers curled slightly, then relaxed. Slowly, he turned, dark eyes locking onto her with something unreadable something slow-burning, something dangerous.

"You will," he said simply.

She lifted her chin, a flicker of defiance breaking through her usual obedience.

"Not if I am not to be queen."

A slow, mirthless smirk tugged at his lips. "Is that what you want?" He stepped toward her, his presence suffocating, the air in the room shifting like a storm about to break.

"A throne?"

She clenched her fists in her lap, her pulse thrumming against her throat. "I was a queen before you tore my kingdom apart." Her voice did not waver, though her breath did. "I will not be cast aside as some nameless wife while you rule alone."

Jeon studied her in silence, the weight of his gaze heavy, assessing. Then, without warning, he moved.

Faster than she could react, his fingers closed around her throat not choking, not hurting, just a firm grip, possessive, commanding. He tilted her head back, forcing her to look up at him, his thumb pressing lightly against the delicate pulse at her neck.

"You speak as though you have a choice."

She gasped softly but she did not break away.

Jeon’s other hand traced the curve of her jaw, his touch deceptively gentle, a contrast to the quiet fury simmering in his dark eyes.

"You were not a queen," he murmured. "You were a prisoner in a cage, a wife to a spineless rat who did not deserve you. You wore a crown but it was never truly yours. "

His fingers tightened slightly around her throat, enough to remind her of his power, enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"And now, you demand a throne beside me?" He leaned closer, his breath fanning against her lips. "No. You will kneel before it instead."

Her heart pounded, her breath shallow, but she still managed to whisper "If I mean nothing more than a body in your bed, end this now."

The air shifted violently.

Jeon’s grip tightened for the briefest moment just long enough to make her dizzy before he released her completely. He exhaled sharply, stepping back, his jaw taut, his gaze dark with something volatile.

For the first time since conquering this land, since taking her, someone had denied him.

And he did not tolerate defiance.

"Very well," he murmured, his voice eerily calm. "If you will not walk to the altar, you will be dragged to it."

Today, she would become his wife.

Not his queen.

He would marry her, not as a political arrangement, not as a necessity but because he wanted her.

He was a conqueror. He alone was enough to rule his land.

__

The silk gown clung to Y/N’s trembling frame, the deep red fabric as heavy as the chains she could not see but could feel in every step she was forced to take. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails pressing into her palms as the realization settled deeper into her bones. The room was deathly silent, the air thick with the scent of incense and candle wax.

Jeon stood before her, a predator draped in black and gold, exuding dominance with every breath. His patience was a thinly veiled thing, stretching dangerously as he watched her remain still, unmoving, unyielding.

"Come forward," he commanded, his voice steady but edged with warning.

Her feet refused to move.

In a single, fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, his fingers wrapping around her wrist in an iron grip. He yanked her forward, forcing her to stumble against his chest.

“You speak of power as if it is something I would give you,” he murmured, his voice deceptively soft, venom laced beneath the words. “You forget your place.”

She gasped, struggling against his grip, but he was relentless, his fingers digging into her wrist as he pulled her through the vast hall.

"You will stand beside me, Y/N," he said, voice cold, final. "But a throne is not something I share."

He did not stop until they stood before the officiant.

A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

Jeon studied her for a moment before sighing, almost in disappointment.

“I was willing to grant you this wedding without force. To let you walk beside me, instead of dragging you like a conquered spoil of war.”

“I did not win this kingdom with patience. I won it with blood.”

Then, louder, he addressed the officiant. “Begin.”

The ceremony was as empty as her heart. No grand feast, no celebration. Just her, him and the officiant bearing witness to the binding of a vow. She repeated them in a hollow whisper, her voice barely her own.

But as he pulled her in for the final kiss, sealing her beneath his name, his rule.

He tasted the salt of her tears on her lips.

For a moment, just a moment, he felt the bitter sting of something less than victory.

Because despite binding her to him, despite claiming her, despite stealing her body, her name. He felt the weight of something he could not conquer.

He had burned kingdoms for her. Killed kings for her. Stolen her from the ashes of a life she never wanted. Yet her sadness was a wound he could not stitch.

Jeon had indeed won the war.

But he had not won her.

__

(End)🤍

[lex1i0]

bts fic recs

✿ - my favorites

✧ty for the resources :))

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