#monster!jimin x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aloneatpeace · 2 years ago

Text

Fall Of Empire

Girl in the Woods ' 1 '

Summary :𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓪 𝓯𝓾𝓷𝓷𝔂 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 . 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓷 . 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓭𝓮𝓷𝔂 𝓸𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼.

Disclaimer - this is pure fan fiction it's not real. I mean no disrespect to any of the members.The stroy is fictional it's doesn't have anything to do with the real life members of bts.

Warning - this chapter doesn't have anything but later we will reach the depth of story and there will. Abuse , degradation of women, sexism, men doing awful things, assault maybe more. (Not by the boys)

A/n : the fic take place as you can tell during mediaeval era or sort of it how would be a life of a girl that time from my perspective. Im not really good at and i don't wanna spoil it so that's it .

WC: 2132

“You are charming, you are everything any women would love to have. You are going to walk up to her and tell her that you like her that’s it.” Hoseok gives himself speech feeling proud of himself, he picks up his bag flung it over his shoulder and march towards where his horse was standing patiently for him.

Upon seeing his companion, the horse let out a happy noise greeting him. Hoseok smile brightly, a contagious smile that made the sun himself feel a little insecure. He pets the horse affectionately.

The sound of footsteps reaches his ear.

hoseok take breath preparing to hear what he heard a thousand times “son, be careful when go there and if the crazy girl tries anything use the weapon”

He turns to his mother “why is it so hard to believe that she is simply just like living in the woods?”

“You are too young and innocent my son” his mother cup his cheeks squishing them making him whines at display of affection “I don’t know who is your companion but everything he sell you make us good living so I will let you go”

Hoseok pauses for a minute “yeah …. he is private man?” he said with hesitation

“Come before celebration start, will you?”

Hoseok node at his mother and start navigate his hose with a soft grip on its neck.

Unlike everyone hoseok didn’t fear the woods, he often find himself yarning to take a walk round the forest. The trees standing tall and proud, sun light gilding through the branches of the trees. The sound of birds and squirrels is something that made hoseok smile something that lots of his villagers find uninteresting. The lake was always crystal clear, remanding him of the tears of mermaid tales that he heard growing up. The silence of woods never frightened him either because he knows there is nothing out there that could harm him.

He always coming up with reasons to go there, maybe the reason behind that is he simply love the forest or maybe because your home is in the forest and it’s the only way, he can see you. He used to think that it was the first one but as the time goes, he realized it might be not.

How the two of meet was fresh in his memory. Teen hoseok was rebellious and reckless, as teenager always curious to find out new things and his curious nature resulted in him find the hunter that lives in the woods. His grandmother would gather him and his siblings to tell the story of wild hunter that lives in the wood. He was most dangerous man the town, no one would dare to walk or look his way. He was taller and stronger than an average man. He would come town at beginning of the month and middle of it each year to collect things and then he would go back to the woods. His grandma would say that the woods is his home and no one was allowed to go there. He partially believed that his grandmother was lying so they don’t wonder off into the woods.

To test his theory, he went to woods he was happy to find no man was there but what stunned him was you kneeling on the ground plucking wild flowers beside a basket that was too big for your little arms. He felt like creep for watching you do your thing, the way your hair was kept showed someone did a poor job the cream color ribbon tied just keep the hair falling on your face, dress that fit perfectly but mud stain at the bottom, boots that too big for you, but his insides were glowing warm making him tingle all over his body. You were in your own world and when he walked towards you startling you at unexpected visitor. When hoseok smile pushed his hands towards to greet you all you did was start to cry and throw the basket at him hastily before running away.

He was only seconds away running after you to explain he didn’t mean to make you cry but the sound of his parents’ voice calling his name made him change his path of running. Yeah, it wasn’t a good first impression.

He parents were so furious at him and banned him for going to the woods again, everyone kept an eye on him and he wasn’t allowed to go alone for couple of years he was always accompanied with cousins or siblings. Sometimes he thought that you were just his imagination that proved wrong when he saw you again.

He was helping his father at the market when the hunter came to the usual routine, he no longer intimidated them but he surprised when a little girl trailed behind him her little hand securely kept in the mans calloused one.

You were clearly amazed by the market eagerly looking around the innocence and pure happiness radiated from you. Your clothes were neat but it’s worn out, someone really tried to make your hair more presentable as if you spent hours on it.

When his eyes meet yours this time toy didn’t show any fear just curiosity unknowingly a smile made its way to his lips and that made you smile as well. He remembers the hunter taking to buy clothes that’s fits you. The people casted him suspicious glances thinking what a young girl doing with a hunter. Clearly, he wasn’t the father judging by the appearance but he didn’t question it. As he tries to follow you his father pulled by his shirt denying his wish to meet up close. He watched from afar as you and the man collect thing from various shops before starting to leave.

From there on you and the man would come and collect things and leave. Hoseok would try to walk up to you but always there will be someone preventing him from doing so and you never spent time longer than needed but you always looked at him some times even smiled at him.

But after one day you didn’t come at all he waited for but you never came later the hunter also stopped coming, it worried him. Are you ill? Why did you stop coming? Did something happen to you? There aren’t wild animals that could hurt you, he concluded that you were just ill and prayed the gods that you will be better. It annoyed him to no end for feeling that way, you’re just a stranger that he doesn’t know anything about, but something in him hurts thinking about you in pain, maybe its in his nature, he one of most empathic one in the village.

His worries only increased when you nor the hunter never came, the people didn’t indulge in what happened to you. As he grows his responsibility grow to slowly, he starts to forget about you. Hoseok grown into fine young man everyone loved him young men envied him, but he was humble and kind to everyone.

Surprised would be understatement when he saw you again years later, just like the first time you were in your own world as you washed fresh fruits in near lake. He was starstruck when he saw you but this time you didn’t run away. With a titled head a small smile graced you face.

“You are not going to throw me in the water this time, are you?” he asked with a teasing smile on his lips

“Perhaps I will” there is no menace in the words its was light and playful, that’s made him laugh

From that a beautiful friendship was born and along the way he fallen for the girl in the woods. When everyone thought that she is witch that killed the hunter now living the woods controlling the woods.

His eagerness made him reach his destination faster, he smiles unknowingly when he sees your home, it radiates a sense of calm and warmth. A deer walks around the front of your home with no fear of his presence along with couple of rabbits and swans. Wild birds preached on window a total sense of safety indicated.

He calls out your name.

“In here” you yell from behind the house where you arrange different kind of fruits and wild flowers for him to sell at his shop. After the two of you become friends, you have been helping him find new flowers and fruits and vegetable that grow in the woods. The partnership had helped him and his family in more than one way.

But to him you were just simple girl that live in woods, there is no evil magic in you even if there is he would gladly let you use him. He learned that the hunter was like father to you and like him you also content with living in the woods.

Washing the fresh fruits that you find couple of days ago, you answer him. Hoseok didn’t tie his horse as the it knows the routine, simply walks towards where you kept water and fresh leaves for him to each along with some fruits.

“Did you go deep in without me?” he asks after seeing buddle of flower that was, he never seen. He frowns at the thought of you running around the woods without him even if you lived your entire life in the woods he woods

“Yeah, I felt like walking after couple of hours I came across these beautiful flowers” you said with smile on your face not knowing his inner thoughts.

“Well wait for me next time”

It was time for him to go home you send Hoseok a smile “have lovely day Hoseok”.

You nodded your head before continuing Hoseok starts to tell you about how things back in his home, how you occasionally node and listen silently without making any attempt to talk. He never took that personally because he knew that you are used stay in silence and rather listen to him and you love that about him for not judging you or pressuring you to talk to him.

He node at you, glancing at you he inhales slowly, oh heavens you are just captivating just by standing there in without realizing how mesmerizing your presence is, in worn out clothes here there is dirt and stains visible but that somehow made you more alluring he don’t know. Maybe someone else don’t agree with his statement but to him you’re the prettiest and most beautiful girl he know.

The soft whisper of his name falls from your lips bring him back from his blissful thoughts, sees you stand a little closer to him with a confused look on his, everything in his body scream to embrace you, take away the wariness of your bones, give his warmth to you, to love you. Without even knowing he caught up in his thoughts again. Making you worried even more at the lack of his response

A soft touch on his arm made him come back and he wish your touch stay like that feeling like it’s the only thing that connect him to reality.

“Are you feeling unwell? You look flustered and red like berries” you touch his forehead to feel his temperature making him go redder if that’s possible

He removes himself from you before he melts into a puddle of honey “I’m fine” his voice come out too rushed and out of breath he walks towards his horse, he stops for moment before fully turning to you, you tilt your head at confused when you start to walk towards you.

“I know it’s been a while but I was meaning to ask you……….” He pauses you silently encourage him to continue “wouldyoulikebeminefortherestofmylife” he blurred out so quickly.

That was bad how can she be yours she is her own person

“Hoseok, I did not understand any of that” you said with a playful annoyed jest.

Good

“I was asking if you would like……to come with tonight’s celebration I was looking forward to have you there with me”

“I do not think that would be a good idea…” you trail off but seeing his defeated look on you face you falter a little and he never asked you to do something for him, if the celebration means that’s much to him, you’re willing to indulge in it “but I think we can give it a try” that made him light up like a sun in the early morning.

“Good…. Great even… then I will come to get you be prepared by dust”

With a bright smile on his face, he walks backward still smiling like teenage boy towards his horse.

Maybe he can tell you tonight how he feels.

Note : that's type of dress what I have on mind if you want you can change it I'm only showing the typical one. There won't any other description of what you'll wear.

Thank you for reading, comment, likes and reblogs it's help to write 💓🙏

Tag

Masterpost here

@thebisexualonesworld

166 notes · View notes

jungkookjeon0007 · 1 year ago

Text

— I was having such a good day until this notification. 😭 what are we going to do w/o Joon’s IG updates, Jungkook’s amazing lives that make us feel so close to him, Jimin’s constant love towards us, and V’s short but super meaningful lives that leave us always wanting more. MY HEART IS BREAKING. The sooner they go the sooner they come back and we willl have all 7 of them again, that’s what I have to keep telling myself. ♥️😭

54 notes · View notes

taehyungday · 1 year ago

Text

𝗦𝗔𝗦𝗔𝗘𝗡𝗚 - 𝚖.𝚢𝚐.

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀…𝗒𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾…𝗒𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗎

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍…998

I'm still not sure how I ended up here, but I was tethered to a chair in a basement of a building. My lips was also taped, so I couldn't shout for help. I just remember walking back to my apartment after a successful concert a few hours ago when I suddenly felt a great deal of pain in my head region. I turned around to find a masked man with a baseball bat smeared with blood, most likely my blood. I awoke here after that. My head was still aching, therefore I got a headache. I could only hope that my fellow members of my group would come here to look for me. But I knew they didn't call me often because our group didn't have a strong bond. And since this was our final show of the tour, and our record label granted us a two-month vacation thereafter, the chances of my members or managers looking for me were little to none.

Then I heard a pair of footsteps approaching. The cellar door was suddenly opened, showing a really gorgeous man with a poker face staring at me. There were also some other men with him who appeared to be his bodyguards. The man with the poker face approached me and pulled the tape from my mouth.

"I'd been looking forward to this moment for a long time." He stated.

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I began pleading with him to help me escape out of this cellar.

"Please, sir, I have no idea who you are, but don't harm me. Please let me go because I have done nothing wrong. Sir, I beg you."

"Unless you disobey my commands, I will not harm you." You'll be living in the basement until you figure out what your role is in the house. I intend to move you from this basement to my room as soon as you start behaving good. You must sign these papers until then." He remarked this as he threw some papers at me.

"Can you tell me what these documents are about?" I stated.

"Sweetheart, don't ask questions; just do what I say or you'll finish up with a bullet in your skull." He remarked this as he drew his weapon. I was terrified.

"Untie her from the chair, Jason, and provide her a pen." He told his men.

I've never been a big fan of music. Despite the fact that I had a girlfriend who was a member of a Kpop group. Because I was in a mafia gang, I told her to keep our relationship a secret. She didn't even tell her group mates about our affair. She asked me to one of her concerts after that. I opted to go because I didn't have any plans or task. I'm not sure what occurred to me after seeing her. She was simply hypnotic. The way she sang, danced, and laughed was fascinating. I couldn't understand it, but when she walked, everything began to look prettier. Because of her, my cold, dead heart began to beat again. That night, I returned home while just thinking about her, and I slept while her lovely voice echoed in my mind.

I began stalking her from that point on. I began collecting her photographs and glueing them to the wall. I created a room particularly for her, complete with her photographs and artwork. I purchased everything that featured her in a commercial. I even purchased some makeup accessories because she was selling it. My girlfriend began to notice that I was ignoring her. One day she arrived at my mansion and discovered Y/n's room, she was astonished and immediately began wrecking the place. I tried to stop her, but she was deafeningly deafeningly deafeningly deafen After she started spewing nonsense about y/n, my mind became agitated. HOW DARE SHE. That's when I grabbed a nearby wire. Then I strangled her as a result of it.

I alerted the police about her death after she died, and I urged them to cover it up by claiming she had committed suicide. The cops didn't question me because I had power over them.

When the world learned that their beloved idol had committed suicide, they were devastated. They began to lament her death. My darling Y/n was inconsolably wailing. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and comfort her, but I knew it wasn't the proper time.

I couldn't wait any longer after a few months. I couldn't figure out how to love her. But, my God, how much I loved her.

I told my men to kidnap her after a few weeks. That guy, on the other hand, hurt her by striking her in the head. That jerk deserves to perish slowly and painfully. I approached my Y/n after killing him, and just by glancing at her, I could tell she was terrified. What a beautiful young lady she was. I forced her to sign papers transferring her entertainment label to me. Because the ceo was afraid of a mafia, he didn't ask me any more questions regarding the paperwork or the weather-about y/n.

Despite the fact that the fanbase and group members were perplexed as to why y/n departed the group. But I was too engrossed in my alone time with y/n to notice that.

She was a thorn in my side at first, refusing to obey my orders. I began giving her less food and left her completely alone. I didn't even pay her a visit since I wanted to make her feel lonely so she would develop Stockholm syndrome and cherish my company. And that's exactly what occurred; she was pleased to see me. She began pleading with me not to leave. That's how my Y/n figured out her place in the family and began to love me.

137 notes · View notes

yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein · 2 years ago

Text

What are the imaginary scenarios your brain is coming up with after seeing this🌚🫣

161 notes · View notes

btspurplemusicworld · 4 months ago

Text

youtube

🔥🔥 (REACT ALL PLS) 🔥🔥 *IF U DON'T REACT Or IF U DON'T FOLLOW ME I'LL STOP UPLOADING FULL UPDATES AND VIDEOS OF BTS *😉

Please follow me 🙋 back Army's💜💜

* Share with ur friends *

Please follow me Army's💜💜

3 notes · View notes

oddinary4bts · 9 months ago

Text

Chasing Cars | Masterpost (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆status: completed

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others.

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆total word count: 218.5k (lmao my fingers slipped)

☆a/n: I got the idea for this fic just a little over a year ago, following a power outage that lasted for a few days where I live and Jungkook's live where he kept coming back with different outfits (the white dress shirt hit me right in the gut). It took me a long time to write, as I was working on multiple other projects at the same time, but I am so so happy to be ready to share this baby with you guys <3

☆Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing this monster <3 (and for all your encouragement and support)

☆And a special thank you to @wintaerbaer and @btsborahaee for encouraging me and supporting me whenever I screamed to you about this fic

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆discord server link here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

➳Teaser (Jungkook pov): the day he met you (1.1k)

You fucking touch her, you're dead.

➳Chapter one: when the Incident happens (11.8k)

Jungkook is Tae's best friend.

➳Chapter two: when Jungkook teases you (10.2k)

You know I hate that nickname.

➳Chapter three: when Valentine's Day happens (13.1k)

You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.

➳Chapter four: when you and Jeon Jungkook clash (9.5k)

I was just going to say that we should keep this between us.

➳Chapter five: when you have to go back to reality (12.1k)

We just pretend nothing happened, no?

➳Chapter six: when Jungkook hosts his friends over (9.6k)

I really want to kiss you right now.

➳Chapter seven: when doubt makes you question everything (15k)

Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?

➳Chapter eight: when secrets are unveiled in New York (13.5k)

I want you.

➳Chapter nine: when a party makes Jungkook jealous (11.2k)

You make me insane.

➳Chapter ten: when time slips through your fingers (10.1k)

I don’t want to lose you, peach.

➳Chapter eleven: when Jungkook visits Taehyung in Paris (8.4k)

Can’t wait for you to be back.

➳Chapter twelve: when it breaks (7.3k)

I can’t be with you.

➳Chapter thirteen: when it's too late (8.9k)

I have to talk to him.

➳Chapter fourteen: when the truth comes out (12.2k)

We never told each other how we felt.

➳Chapter fifteen: when you find your way back to Jungkook (7.4k)

You came?

➳Chapter sixteen: when Jungkook takes you out on a date (8.9k)

I think I was waiting for you my whole life.

➳Chapter seventeen: when forever awaits you (9k)

Getting to love you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.

Drabbles in Jungkook's pov (might add more as the story goes on)

➳Chapter 1.5: the first party (1.6k)

Then why are you bringing him home, peach?

➳Chapter 3.5: Valentine's Day (1.1k)

We should have hung out like this before.

➳Chapter 4.5: a walk through campus (852)

You love it, peach.

➳Chapter 5.5: the return to reality (2k)

You wanted to talk?

➳Chapter 6.5: hosting his friends at the apartment (4.4k)

What the fuck is wrong with you?

➳Chapter 7.5: when he realizes (2.5k)

Isn't she Taehyung's sister?

➳Chapter 8.5: the engagement party (6.6k)

Have fun while it lasts.

➳Chapter 9.5: jealous jungkook (3k)

Shouldn’t I prove to you that you’ve got nothing to worry about?

➳Chapter 10.5: the morning before Paris (1.7k)

I promise I'll come back to you and make it work.

➳Chapter 11.5: the kiss (1.2k)

Just this once.

➳Chapter 12.5: after losing you (4.6k)

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

➳Chapter 13.5: returning home (4k)

What am I supposed to do?

➳ Chapter 14.5: losing you again (3k)

I can't believe you've been wearing the necklace

➳Chapter 15.5: a conversation with Taehyung, and his reunion with you (2.6k)

It’s never been like that with her.

☆☆☆☆☆

#chasing cars masterpost #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #chasing cars #chasing cars series

3K notes · View notes

smutoperator · 2 months ago

Text

Party Monster

Aeri Uchinaga (Giselle) x Male Reader (special guests: Ning Yizhuo, Kim Minjeong, Yu Jimin)

Tags: anal, asshole boyfriend, birthday, butt plug, cheater, clothed titfucking, cuckquean, creampies, cum on belly, facesitting, facial, (lots of) fingering, flashback, grinding, halloween, mirror sex, morning blowjob, parties, rimming, threesomes, tummy licking, voyeurism

Word count: 9420.

October 30th - Giselle's birthday

It's your girlfriend's birthday, and she's getting herself ready. From afar, you just look at her body as she stares at the bathroom's mirror and puts on her makeup, noticing her thicc legs and big ass even from a long distance. Meanwhile, you're getting impatient; she's taking too long to get dressed.

"Gigi, we gotta go," you tell her. "I'm going as fast as you can," she answers you, giving you an eyeroll in the process. You notice something is wrong. Giselle doesn't really seem very willing to go to her own party and keeps putting you on hold. But why?

You walk towards the bathroom, and Giselle faces you; her pink hair, big glasses, and black dress with a pantyhose make her look quite cool and enticing. Maybe even too hot for you.

"That's a great dress you're wearing, Gigi," you tell her. "Sure," she says, looking quite bothered. "Oh, and happy birthday," you tell her. "I guess," she answers.

"Can I watch you getting ready?" you ask Giselle. "Why do you want to do this? To look at me like the cheating pervert you are and distract me?" she replies angrily.

And that's the moment you realize she knows.

No more, Mr. Nice guy for Gigi; for now on, you'll be the biggest asshole she'll ever know. To match with that fat ass, she's arching proudly while getting herself ready.

"You know what, Giselle, you dyed your hair pink lately, but did you dye the hair in your pussy pink too?" you ask a very inappropriate question to her. "Why don't you check it by yourself?" she asks you. You do just that, ripping her pantyhose and then pulling her panties down to see if she did it.

"WHAT THE FUCK YOU STUPID ASSHOLE? I DIDN'T MEAN FOR YOU TO LITERALLY DO IT" Giselle angrily screams, pushing her panties back up. She's really mad now. She just got that pantyhose and you ripped it apart. "God damn it, you're such a distracting asshole," she tells you.

You ignore Giselle's words and start touching her pussy. "Why are you so curious? I thought her pussy was better; didn't you cum inside it last week?" Giselle asks, reminding you of why she's been so angry these past days. But you're committed not to listen to her and just pay attention to her folds.

"I see you didn't dye it pink, but regardless, your pussy is quite pink," you tell her. "But is it pinkier than her pussy, you know, the one you nutted all over last week?" Giselle asks, determined to shove all her anger towards you. She wants to break up with you right now, and if today wasn't her birthday, she would do that. But she doesn't want to ruin it, trying to stay calm against your assholeness.

Giselle is also starting to get on your nerves, but you know a solution to manage both your angers and hers. It's right between your legs, and it needs to go right in her pussy, and that's exactly what you do, pulling your underwear down and Giselle's to the side and inserting your cock right in that pink cunt.

"Who told you to put that dirty cock in my pussy?" Giselle asks, pointing out that she didn't consent to it. "No one, but you begged for it, arching that fat ass in front of me," you tell her. "God, you're such an asshole. But you know what, now that you're inside it, just fuck me, it's that only thing you can do right in your life after all," Giselle mocks you.

These words get you even angrier, and you pick up the pace, your shaft slowly disappearing under Giselle's big butt as your cock gets deeper in her pussy; you can tell her moans are of anger, but she slowly starts to cream herself on your cock; in the end, she just can't resist that huge shaft in her needy fuckholes.

You increase the pace of your thrusts, nearly ruining Giselle's eye makeup as she nearly drops her eyeliner. Her slutty face in the mirror makes your blood boil, and you take your frustrations right in her cunt. "Fuck, fuck," she curses, both of you looking like the angriest couple ever.

Giselle can't even do her makeup anymore as your fast thrusts make you take more and more control over her body. "Go easy; I need to finish my makeup," she tells you. But you just ignore her, going harder instead and just pounding that cunt like your life depended on it.

"Damn, I told you to go easy; are you stupid?" Giselle asks, clinging herself onto the bathroom's tap as you pound her. "No, I'm not; I just want to fuck you like the whore you are. You claim you don't need a man, just accessories, but I guess the accessory you need the most is my cock," you say to her.

Giselle moves her body, meeting your thrusts, but you quickly put an end to it, taking control and going back to pounding her to the fullest. "OH FUCK," she moans. "You know what? If you're not going to let me get ready, just fuck me in the ass," she tells you.

"Not yet, Gigi, I'm going to destroy that pink kitty first," you tell her, grabbing her neck and reaching into her dress as well to grope her tits. She tries to hold herself to anything in her vicinity. But you suddenly come to a halt and present your conditions.

"Bounce that fat ass on my cock and I'll let you get fucked in the ass," you tell her. Giselle obliges, as you stop and let her take control, enjoying the recoil of her big butt every time she gets down your shaft and clashes with your hips. "Your pussy is so fucking wet today, Gigi; you really want to lube my cock to fuck my ass, you slutty kitty," you tell her.

"You want more lube, baby, come get it," Giselle says, getting on her knees and sucking your big cock, enjoying her own taste, her saliva quickly covering your shaft as she spits all over your dick and sucks it like a maniac. You push her towards your bedroom, watching her climb on the bed with her big ass wiggling back and forth.

But first, you want some extra fun with her pussy, putting your cock back inside it and enjoying her moan as she bounces it on your cock. "Such a slutty kitten," you tell her. "If you say so, then fuck that kitten," Giselle asks, making you go crazy and plow her cunt even harder. You rip Giselle's brand new pantyhose completely, leaving her tail completely naked for you to drool over.

You tease Giselle, massaging the area around her butthole; she follows suit, putting a couple fingers in her anus while her long nails scratch your shaft and make it throb even harder. "Stretching your ass for Daddy's big cock, you fucking slut?" you ask her.

Giselle doesn't answer, trying to keep herself concentrated as you nail her cunt, her asshole winking as you stuff your cock deep inside her. You answer the winking with your thumb up her butthole, making her moan even louder. She really enjoys the anal massage. "Is this what you wanted for your birthday, baby?" you ask her. "Well, yes, but I want more," Giselle answers.

You finally give Giselle what she asks for, putting your cock right up that big Japanese butt. "Oh my God," she moans. "Oh fuck," you groan. Even though you have fucked her in the ass since the first encounter, you two often get surprised a lot of times, you by how tight it is, and her by how well your fat cock stretches it out.

You push as hard as you can against Giselle's fat ass; she bounces on it and makes your cock go even madder. "That's what I want for my birthday," Giselle says. "Not really, that's what you want every day, you big butt anal slut," you answer her.

Giselle moans as your cock does great work inside her ass. "I'm going to destroy your dirty, slutty, tight ass on your fucking birthday," you tell Giselle, who closes her eyes as she takes a huge pounding, only able to pray to God every time your shaft reaches the depths of her anus.

You pause a bit to give Giselle a taste of her asshole; she always loves doing it, massively bobbing her head on your shaft and seizing the opportunity, bouncing her mouth on it, and covering your cock full of spit. "My ass tastes so good," Giselle says, licking your shaft from top to bottom and then stroking it hard as she licks your balls.

"You want it back in your ass, you fucking bitch?" you ask her. "Yes, baby," Giselle answers. "Then beg for it," you reply. "Yes, please, put this big fucking dick in my tight little asshole," she answers. "That's the spirit," you tell her.

You put Giselle on her knees on the floor and put your cock back in her asshole, more determined than ever to destroy it; your feet stomp her head, and you get real rough with her. "Bubble butt birthday slut, that's what you're going to get for being so rude to me," you tell her.

"You love this fucking dick in your ass, don't you? To think you were calling it dirty just a couple moments ago," you prank Giselle. "Yes, I love this dirty cock up my fat ass," Giselle says, proud of her assets. The more she talks, the more you want to fuck her until she can't walk. Despite getting obliterated, Giselle still manages to rub her clit as you pound her butt, squirting all over the floor.

"OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, DON'T FUCKING STOP FUCKING MY ASS," Giselle screams loud. Indeed, you won't stop; that butthole is so addictive. "I've got the best asshole ever, don't I, baby? Perfect for that big cock, isn't it?" Giselle says, teasing you.

"You know what you got? The most cummable ass ever," you tell Giselle, dropping a huge load of your semen inside it. "STAY THERE" you order to her. You quickly hush to the bathroom, picking up her butt plug in the drawer and rushing back to keep your cum stored in Giselle's butthole.

"This is my birthday gift for you," you say to her.

"An asshole cumming inside another? How fitting," she replies.

"Now get yourself ready; the hosts are coming and you're late," you tell Giselle.

The guests start to arrive as Giselle rushes to get dressed. Her best friend Somi is the first to arrive. God damn it, that blonde bitch really does have some big tits. Speaking of big tits, Karina arrives next. Giselle's friends keep coming; it's Chaeyeon next, followed by Winter, but one Chinese girl finally comes to steal your attention.

Ningning arrives in her stunning Versace outfit. The maknae truly has an unmatched fashion sense, and watching her look so cool in front of you is truly a shock—the same girl that was calling you daddy and asking you to breed her and put a baby in her womb at her own birthday party.

"AHHHH DADDDY, PLEASE, FUCK ME, STRETCH ME OUT, CUM INSIDE THAT YOUNG PINK CHINESE PUSSY UNTIL YOU PUT A BABY IN IT," the screaming moans of Ningning still echoed in your head. The tightness and warmth of her pussy, the perfect smell of her body, her perky tits that you licked like a baby a week ago. Just reminding yourself of it was giving you whiplash. Truth be told, you can never get bored with Ningning by your side.

But just as you were about to greet Ningning, your girlfriend comes downstairs.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIGI," her friends scream together. Giselle greets them one by one before looking at you and stomping on your right foot with her high heels. She knows you have a massive crush on Ningning; her groupmate knows too. The tension rises in the air. But it's Giselle herself who comes up with a solution.

"Why don't you show me what you two did last week?" she asks Ningning.

The party keeps rolling, the guests heavily drunk as they celebrate Giselle's birthday. Somi decides to be the DJ. The guests don't even notice Giselle is no longer with them.

Giselle takes you and Ningning upstairs to her bedroom. The smell of sex from your early quickie is still there. She looks at her younger groupmate, gives her a little wink, and whispers in her ear.

"Put those Versace clothes on the floor and get completely naked," Giselle says.

Ningning obliges, and soon it's Giselle's turn; you're facing both beauties completely naked. Giselle puts Ningning laying on the bed and starts eating her pussy, the same pussy you jizzed inside last week, making you wonder if she can still feel the smell of your cum in there. Then, your girlfriend turns around and says some words to you.

"What are you waiting for? Get yourself naked and fuck me now."

You follow Giselle's orders, taking your clothes off in a matter of seconds; she spreads her legs, and you put your cock back in her pussy, giving her a sexy but hard spooning under Ningning's watch as you massage your girlfriend's pussy. No wonder Ningning got fucked so well last week; you two really know how to do it; going to her was just jumping from one tasty pussy to another.

"OH YEAH, FUCK ME HARD, BABY," Giselle screams, backed by the loud noise muffling it completely. Well, it's not like the guests care, as they turned Giselle's party into theirs and have Somi and Karina literally popping beer cans with their tits.

You choke Giselle and grope her tits as you pump her pussy hard. You two kiss each other passionately. Soon you're railing Giselle from behind again while Ningning jerks herself off to the scene, until Giselle interrupts her.

"Don't cum yet, little slut; I want you to make both of you cum," Giselle tells her. "No, bitch, I'm going to be the one cumming; give me your boyfriend's cock and let me show how it's done," the Chinese girl says.

Ningning takes your cock down her throat and goes balls deep from the beginning. As she bobs her head on your shaft, Giselle gets between her legs, and her tongue puts some heat in Ningning's young pussy, you two doing the most to double-team the maknae and give her maximum pleasure.

"Let me handle this, baby," you tell Giselle, putting your hands on Ningning's pink pussy. Last week's experience means you already know her sweetest spots, and just a little fingering already makes Ningning shake. "FUCKKKKKKK," she screams as your hands are all over her cunt. "Ohhhh, she really likes it," Giselle says.

You fuck Ningning's face until she gags on your cock. "You're making my dreams come true; I always wanted to share your cock with your girlfriend," Ningning says. You and Ningning look at each other, Giselle seizing the opportunity to suck your cock herself while you put your hands on the maknae's mouth. Watching Ningning take your cock deep in her mouth gives Giselle some urgency, with her trying to accomplish it herself and leaving her mouth wide open for you to fuck her face as well.

"Come here, Ning, show me girlfriend what you did to my cock last week," you tell the Chinese girl, grabbing her hair and pushing her against your crotch to deepthroat your shaft. As soon as she gags, you "punish" her with your cock swinging against her face. "Bad girl, you only stop sucking that cock when I tell you to," you say to her.

You punish Ningning by pushing your balls down her mouth. She closes her eyes as Giselle also slides under her body and eats her pussy. The young girl tries to overcome both of you stimulating her, but it's too much, as her throat gets pounded like crazy and her pussy is shivering with Giselle's licks.

You carry Ningning and put her back in the bed, shoving your hands back in her little pink pussy. "GODDDD, DON'T STOP," she screams. You take advantage of her weakness and unceremoniously shove your cock in her cunt. "YES, YES, YES," Ningning screams as Giselle comes up to massage her tits and kiss her. You show no mercy to little Ningning yourself, fucking her pussy hard from the start, just like the way you had her calling you daddy during her birthday last week.

"OH FUCK, AHH, AHHHH, AHHHHHHH," Ningning moans and screams, getting louder and louder, especially after Giselle places her hands all over her clit. The maknae quickly starts losing her breath. Meanwhile, Giselle very much enjoys it, sharing very passionate kisses with you as you nail her groupmate.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, OUCCHHHHHH?" Ningning screams once again as you pull out and then put your hands in her pussy, making her squirt for the first time. "Looks like he made you cum a lot on your birthday, Ning; I'm a little jealous," Giselle says.

"Well, baby, watch me do this," you say, putting Ningning in a spooning position and hammering her pussy more. "Yes, like this, like this, please," and out of breath, Ningning moans. "Like this?" you ask rhetorically, choking Ningning and making her grin her teeth. Giselle just watches, not hiding; she's very entertained watching it, feeling she shouldn't have been that mad early this morning. It looks like she's developing a kink for watching you fuck other girls.

Ningning gets another pounding to remember, having flashes from last week run all over her head. "AH, AH, AH, AH," she screams, very out of breath. Giselle turns into her official cunt masseur, unable to keep her hands off her friend's throbbing clit. You soon start to slap Ningning's perky tits, getting the young girl even more overwhelmed. "Oh yeah, she takes it so well," Giselle says, praising her groupmate's slutty skills.

"FUCKKKKKKKKKK," Ningning screams very loud as you pinch and grope her tits, soon making her squirt. She drops so many juices on your cock. Giselle quickly takes advantage of them, sitting on your cock with ease as she gets ready to bounce on it. "Come on, bitch, bounce that fat ass on that cock," Ningning says, quickly recovering to take revenge on her groupmate and spanking Giselle's big butt.

Giselle takes note and twerks hard on your cock. Ningning looks at her with whore eyes as they kiss each other. You reach under her body and make her pussy squirt again. "AHHHHH," Ningning gets caught by surprise. Gigi just keeps bouncing, going harder the more both of you keep spanking her ass.

Ningning slides her face between Giselle's tits, enjoying getting hit as they bounce and sucking them like a baby. She then reaches for Giselle's pussy, fingering it just as Giselle starts grinding on your cock. "Seems like your girlfriend really wants your cum," Ningning tells you. "And to think she already got a lot this morning," you reply.

"OH GOD, YES," Giselle screams as she impales herself full of your cock. Meanwhile, you challenge her. "Let's see who can squirt first," you tell her, putting your hands back in Ningning's pussy. "AHHHHHHHHH," the young girl screams again.

"Looks like she won," you tell Giselle as Ningning's pussy gets wet again. "Give me that taste, Giselle orders, licking your hands and then kissing Ningning. You take advantage of your girlfriend getting distracted and thrust up her pussy. "Oh my God, fuck fuck fuck," she moans, caught by surprise, before retaking control and showing who the real boss is with more grinding.

Ningning dives to deepthroat your cock and taste Gigi's juices while you make out with your girlfriend up top. You quickly show Giselle her groupmate won't be the only one squirting, using your magic hands to get her pussy yet. "Oh, yes, yes, yes," Giselle moans as you essentially fist her cunt and make her gush all over your hands, much to her and Ningning's celebration, who have more juices to taste from it.

Ningning takes her turn and starts riding your cock herself, looking like someone who just found a new toy, laughing and giggling as your cock hits deep in her folds. Giselle comes from behind and licks your shaft as it goes in and out of her groupmate's pussy, while also taking some chances to taste Ningning's ass.

"Yeah, yeah, YEAH, YEAH, AHHHHH," Ningning screams as you push your cock up that cunt. "Come on, get up and bounce on that cock," you tell her. Ningning obeys you like the good submissive slut she is, ramping up her efforts to ride you. "Wow, she's so hot sitting on your cock," Giselle tells you.

"You like that?" you ask Ningning, slapping her ass and turning her porcelain skin red. "HELL YEAH, FUCK!" she screams. Giselle decides to take her turn too, printing her big hands all over her groupmate's ass. "MAKE THOSE CHEEKS FUCKING RED," Ningning screams again.

You ramp up the pace, wrapping your arms around Ningning and pushing hard against her pussy. "YEAHHHH, FUCKKKK, I'M GONNNA CUM, AHHHHHH, GOSH," she screams, losing her breath once again. "You like being a slut for Daddy's cock?" you ask her, now slapping her face too. "YEAH, I LOVE IT. I WANT TO BE DADDY'S CUMSLUT FOREVER," she yells.

"Then give it to me; keep riding that cock like a good bitch," you tell Ningning, teasing her with your finger in her asshole. Giselle just watches and masturbates herself to you, fucking her friend. "GOD DAMN IT, FUCKKKK," Ningning gets caught by surprise as you make her squirt once again with your hands as soon as you pull out of her pussy. Ningning then gets punished hard as you grab her hair and push her face against your shaft while pushing it upwards. She chokes hard on your cock as you treat her like nothing but a bunch of fuckholes.

"Your time to sit your fat ass in it has come, Gigi," you tell your girlfriend. Giselle obliges, taking off the butt plug and lubing your cock with the cum you put in her earlier. Giselle impales herself with ease, riding your cock hard and fast as you get a privileged view of her big butt bouncing on it.

"Wow, you're such a good rider, Gigi," Ningning says. "And I'll be even better if you slap my tiddies," your girlfriend replies. The maknae quickly follows her lead and plays with Giselle's big boobs, spanking and groping them while also massaging her pussy and kissing Giselle.

"Oh yes, make that pussy squirt; that's so fucking hot," Giselle begs to Ningning, who now eats her out. Ningning picks up the pace, using her hands now to make Giselle squirt. "Cum all over my fucking cock," you tell your girlfriend. Ningning grabs your shaft and rubs it against Giselle's entrance, making her squirt. "AHHHHHH FUCKKKKKK," the Japanese girl screams. She puts your cock back in her ass, and you thrust hard against it, leveling her and making her float with the hard poundings. Ningning spanks her tits as Giselle cums. "Do I taste good?" Giselle asks as she squirts right on Ningning's face.

"God damn it, Gigi, you're cumming so hard in your boyfriend's cock," Ningning says. "Well, now I want you to squirt on my face," Giselle replies as you put her in a spooning position, fucking her ass even further while Ningning sits on her face to get eaten out. "Fuck, you eat me so good," Ningning says. You reach to finger Giselle's cunt as your hands and Giselle's mouth compete to see who's going to make which girl cum first.

Hands are flying everywhere, stimulating every inch of the girls bodies: yours grope Giselle's boobs, hers grope Ningning's tits, Ningning's finger Giselle's cunt. Ningning grinds her own pussy on Giselle's mouth, who prays to God as you destroy her ass. Suddenly, your own hands are reaching to spank Ningning's tits.

Ningning gets on top of Giselle as you enter her tight asshole next. "Fuck her on top of me," Giselle demands. You do just as your girlfriend asks, giving Ningning a nice pounding from behind. Both girls now duel to see who screams the hardest, Ningning with your cock in her ass or Giselle with your hands back in her cunt. You lube your cock with some of Giselle's squirt and plunge it back on Ningning's butt, the young girl completely overwhelmed by your fast pace thrusts.

"That's really good; make my cheeks red," Ningning moans as you hit her ass; you then pull her hair and cover her mouth. "Stop screaming for a second bitch," you tell her. "I'm going to punish you," you say to Ningning, sticking your fingers in her pussy and leading to more squirting and more screaming. "AHHHHHHHHHH," Ningning yells.

Giselle shoves her cum-filled butt plug in Ningning's asshole, fucking it while you stick your fingers in the maknae's cunt. Ningning is overwhelmed with the amount of stimulation you two give her. "Damn, I can't take it; you two fuck me so good," she says. "Well, there is more to come," you say to her.

You put Ningning facing you and stick your cock back in her ass. "Oh, I love it. I love it. I love this fucking cock in my ass," she says. "Shut the fuck up," you tell her, shutting her mouth. But as soon as you uncover it, she goes back to screaming. Giselle enjoys it. "That's so hot," your girlfriend says, spitting on your cock to lube it up to fuck Ningning's ass. You fuck her pussy with your fingers and her ass with your big cock, double-stimulating the young girl. "That feels really good; give me more," Ningning says.

"AHHHHHHH FUCKKKKK," an out-of-breath Ningning screams. Giselle shoves her pussy in Ningning's face while you pound the young Chinese on all fours, her whole body turning red as you spank her butt and fuck her ass. "Lick my pussy like you want it," Giselle asks. "I'm going to go deep," you warn Nining, soon mounting on top of her and catching her by surprise.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," that's too deep and too big in my ass," Ningning says. You plow her like a bull fucking a cow, making her scream in pain as you rip her asshole apart. Ningning clings to Giselle's pussy to cope with it. "That's perfect," Giselle says. "Keep licking my cunt," she demands.

But you have different plans, taking Ningning all by yourself and plowing her ass in a full nelson. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she screams, unable to deal with your fast thrusts and your balls smacking her clit while Giselle fingers it. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, HOLY SHIT, I'M GONNA CUM," she screams as she squirts again.

"I'm going to cum too; give me your fucking mouth," you tell Ningning, pulling out of her and jerking your cock until it blasts a huge load right in her slutty young Chinese face. You then move to Giselle and unload in her mouth too. The two girls then kiss each other and lick their faces full of your cum as you are fully drained and just enjoy the view of two hot girls kissing each other.

Giselle and Ningning leave the room, going back to check the party only to find a scenario of utter chaos. Beer cans and condoms are all over the floor, and when they go to the living room, they find Somi and Karina dueling to see who gets plowed the hardest, with guys queueing up to fuck them raw and hard, making their big tits bounce and unloading their cum inside their pink pussies.

"Looks like we weren't the only ones having sex during this party," Ningning says.

October 31st - Halloween

Giselle wakes up the next morning. Ningning is still there, and so is another one of Giselle's groupmates, a still recovering from last night's party's hangover, Winter. As Winter dresses herself for the Halloween party that is coming next, Giselle asks her an offer she can't refuse.

"Minjeong, do you want to suck my boyfriend's cock?" Giselle asks. "Of course," Winter answers. "But let's keep it quiet; we can't wake Ningning up; she already tasted too much of it," Giselle says, getting closer to your bedroom. "You'll pull his underwear while I'll sit on his face," Giselle tells her the plan. "Got it," Winter replies.

"Good morning, baby," Giselle says, suffocating you with her big ass. "Are you ready for today's surprise?" she asks you, as you see a blonde girl pulling your underwear down and getting shocked with the size of your morning wood. "Wow, you weren't lying, Aeri unnie; it's a really big one," Winter says as she licks your shaft a bit. Giselle stays on top of you and gives it a little taste too, stroking your cock to get it throbbing for Minjeong.

"Wow, it's extra tasty; it's like candy," Winter says as she dives on your shaft and gives your balls some love. GIselle just watches as she lets Minjeong have fun with it. You're barely awake, unable to connect many thoughts as both girls fight for your shaft. "You better have a big load saved on these balls; I'm so hungry; I need it for breakfast," Winter says.

Winter gives your cock a slurpy deepthroat. "Keep going, Minjeong; I want to see how much you can fit in your mouth," Giselle says, pushing her friend's head against your shaft. Winter loves it, making some crazy facial expressions. The two girls then share some kisses to taste your cock from their mouths.

"Let's tease him a little," Giselle says, grinding her ass against your shaft. Minjeong follows suit, and soon your cock is surrounded by their cheeks on all sides. "Hmmm, I love it, big dick between your cheeks," Winter says. "How does that feel? You like the way we tease your cock?" she asks, but you just let them do their thing.

"This is the close you're going to get, baby. I know you thought you could fuck her like you did to Ningning yesterday, but I'm not going to let it; you already had too much fun yesterday," Giselle says as she keeps rubbing her ass on your cock.

Both girls spit on your cock and suck it together, Winter moving her tongue around your shaft while Giselle dives on it. As Minjeong is on her knees in the bed, you try to reach under her skirt. "Come on, baby, get up and do some work; come here and fuck her face," Giselle tells you.

Giselle and Winter get on their knees as you get up, bobbing their heads hard on your cock. You grab Minjeong's head, pushing it closer to your shaft, but Giselle just can't let go of your cock; once she does, both of them lick your shaft from the side, making you go crazy even as you just woke up. "Wow, that cock is so hard, and you suck it so well, Aeri unnie," Winter says. "Yes, I'm so lucky to have such a big cock boyfriend and share them with my groupmates," she says.

You finally make a move, pushing Winter's head against your cock, and start facefucking her, much to Giselle's pleasure, as she enjoys watching Minjeong choke on your cock while she rims you from behind. Minjeong gets very sloppy with her tongue, spitting all over your dick. "You like that?" Giselle asks her, but she's unable to answer, with a string of saliva coming out of her mouth as Winter coughs on your dick and tries not to gag as you shove it down her throat.

"Wow, that was almost the whole thing." Giselle gets impressed with Winter's cocksucking skills. Minjeong just smiles to her unnie. Winter reaches into Giselle's purse and puts a ring around your cock, restricting the blood flow and making it throb even harder. Giselle adds some spit on your cock, deepthroating it and making Winter impressed. "Look at that; look at Aeri unnie taking all that fucking cock," Winter says.

Winter takes her turn bobbing her head on your cock while Giselle dives under your balls. You push Minjeong's head further. "Oh baby, come down; there will always be enough spit for you," Winter says. "Come here, go back and forth between our mouths," she continues.

You use Giselle and Winter's mouths like gloryholes, sticking your cock in and out of them repeatedly and then fucking their faces, making them get very sloppy while doing it. The girls compete to see who can take your cock the deepest and to see who can spit on it the most. "Ohhh, it's so slippery," Giselle says.

"I want you to lick that ass," Winter tells Giselle, leading to a big smile from Giselle, who warms it up for Minjeong by putting her tongue all over your butthole while Winter savors your shaft a little more. "So hot watching you lick that ass," Winter says as she kisses Giselle's dirty mouth after some good rimming from your girlfriend on you. "Look how hard he is; our tongues seem to be working well on him," Winter says.

"You're such a good slut; your boyfriend must really love the way you suck his cock every day," Minjeong says to Giselle, who strokes your cock hard now, twisting and turning her hands all over your shaft while Minejong stuffs your balls in her mouth. Giselle bobs her head hard and then gags after deepthroating your pole. "You're such a good ball whore," she tells Minjeong, who sucks your cock balls deep next.

You start jerking your cock off franctically, signaling you're ready to cum at any second. "Cum at her belly," Giselle tells you, who oblige and aim your cock right at Minjeong's navel, pressing your tip against it. "Ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh," you groan as your tip against her skin makes you lose it and unload in her midriff, paiting it white. As you're done cumming, Giselle comes in and licks Winter's tummy.

"Your cum is so yummy in her tummy tummy tummy," Giselle says, taking it in her mouth and then swiping it with Winter, dropping the massive load you gave to her midriff right in her mouth.

Ningning arrives a little late as she just woke up, finding the three of you having fun.

"Damn, you girls didn't even invite me to drink some morning milk," she says. "You're getting really addicted to my boyfriend's cock," Giselle says. "It's hard not to; it's so huge," Ningning says. "You girls are going to kill me," you tell them.

"The day is just starting, baby boy; get yourself ready because it's going to be hard to survive; have you forgotten it's Halloween?" Giselle says.

You take some rest and then get yourself ready for the Halloween party, wearing a Michael Myers costume. Giselle takes some futuristic clothes, leading you to ask which costume she is taking. "I'm going to be an ae traveling to Kwangya," she says. "I don't know much about it, just that those music videos you're in are quite crazy for me to follow," you tell her. "Well, no problem. Is it you that is going to kill us tonight?" Giselle giggles.

Both of you arrive at the Halloween party, and you can quickly tell who the center of attention is. Everybody has their eyes set on just one girl, a tall woman in an all-black outfit with knee-high socks and a top that can barely cover her huge boobs.

You finally get an opening to get close to Karina. She notices you and quickly asks, "Are you Giselle's boyfriend?" she asks. "Well, sometimes," you answer her. "Sometimes, what does that mean?" Karina asks. "Well, we have sort of an open relationship," you tell her as you kiss Karina's neck. "Calm down, baby, you're a killer, not a vampire," she tells you. "Well, tonight I want you to kill me," you say to her, reaching to touch her boobs covered by her costume.

"Hmm, that's so tasty," she says. "Can I suck your cock?" she then whispers in your ear. "You can do whatever you want," you answer. "Let's go to a quiet corner, and I'll suck your soul," Karina says.

You two find an empty room, and Karina quickly locks the door. She flashes her boobs to you, and you try to touch them. "Not yet, baby," Karina says, teasing you. "Tell me, Karina, how big are they?" you ask her. "34DD, all natural," she answers. "Looks like you fit my ideal type perfectly; you're so tall," she says.

Karina unzips your pants, and your cock quickly comes out of it, already throbbing for her. "Can't wait to take it in my mouth," she says. "Then do it," you tell her. She gets sloppy from the start, giving you a quite slurpy blowjob and taking it at full force, making her saggy tits already bounce. "Good girl, spit all over this big cock," you tell her.

"Ahhhhh, Your cock takes so amazing," Karina says as she chokes herself all over it, making quite loud noises as she keeps bobbing her head on it and licking it like a maniac. Her blowjob is very fast-paced and quickly puts you on the edge. "Are you having fun?" you ask her. "Of course, baby," she answers.

"Can I put it between your tits?" you ask Karina. "Obviously, you didn't even need to ask; all the boys want to be lucky enough to have their cocks between my big tits," Karina says, lifting her top just a little to free her massive bazookas and squeezing your cock right in the middle of them.

You can tell right from the get-go that Karina is a next-level titfucker as she squeezes your throbbing shaft between her boobs to the point the tip can barely pop out. She smiles and fucks your cock as if she is giving a massage to it, touching the right spots with her fat milkers. "Ahhhh, what a fantastic cock you got, baby," she says just as she crushes your tip between her massive melons.

You quickly find out there are few things better than a Karina titjob. Those bazookas seem like they are mad at a lab in Kwangya, given how huge and soft they are. She turns your cock into her playground, as you can feel your entire blood rushing into that throbbing shaft the more she moves those big tits between it.

"Suck it again," you tell her as a way not to cum early. Karina obliges, bobbing her head on your shaft without using her hands. "Choke on my big cock, you big tit bitch," you tell Karina as she does just that, closing her eyes and taking your cock in her mouth as deep as she can. More titfucking ensues as Karina sexily moans and bounces those melons hard on your shaft. "Spit on it, slut," you order her, and she obliges like a good girl.

Karina titfucks you really fast, committing to destroy your cock; every time it emerges out of her melons, she makes sure to lick your tip. "Tell me how much you love having that dick between your big tits," you tell her. "Oh fuck, I love it so much," she says, squeezing them very hard as you come from the side and make her push it even further.

"Those big tits are going to make me cum at any second," you tell Karina. "Then cum under my top; I want to see that white cum dripping under it," she replies.

Karina puts her top back on as your cock slides between her fabric. You take the initiative now even though you can't even see where your cock is hitting, just looking at your tip bulging under her top. "You're so fucking hard; I love the way you fuck my big tits," Karina says as you pick up the pace. You squeeze her melons, using them as if you're inside the tight walls of her pink pussy. "That's hot as fuck," you tell her. "It'll be even hotter when you give me that fucking cum," she answers.

And you do just as she asks, dropping your thick sperm under her top, Karina giggling as she watches the black fabric of it turn white. You then pull out and tell her to clean it, which Karina does perfectly, ending an amazing session with this big tit beauty, better yet, with no one seeing it.

Or at least you thought so.

"I had a lot of fun," Karina says, giving you a high five. "But now I have to go; our performance is coming up soon," she continues. "Sure, I won't stand in the way," you tell her. "Hope I can see you there," she says, giving you one last kiss.

As you return to the main hall, the announcer speaks.

"Ladies and gentlemen, raise your hands for one of the nation's top groups, Aespa!!!!!!!"

The Aespa girls enter the stage and start performing their new song Whiplash; they all tease you, looking at the crowd multiple times. As they play Supernova afterwards, the crowd goes even crazier, and something is about to happen that will get things even wilder.

Giselle jumps offstage in your direction and starts grinding her fat ass against your clothed manhood as the song plays loud. You quickly get aroused and are unable to react. She keeps grinding on it for a long time, and after a couple minutes you just can't resist, cumming on your pants in front of everybody inside that party.

"Looks like I'm the real killer," she says.

You feel embarrassed. Giselle really wanted revenge on you for cheating on her. But your anger doesn't last long, as she quickly talks to you. "I have a surprise; come here, baby.".

Giselle guides you to another room where two beautiful girls are waiting—ah, the killer duo of Jiminjeong, the body bang duo, smiling at you as Giselle gives them the command.

"I want you to fuck them in front of me."

The two girls quickly take your pants off and start touching your erection. Karina takes her top off your you to massage her big tits while kissing her; meanwhile, Winter strokes your cock. You then move into kissing Minjeong as Karina gets on her knees to suck that big dick. Then Minjeong takes her turn and does the same thing while you play with Karina's boobs. Both girls then get on their knees and fight for your cock, taking turns between sucking the tip and licking your balls, before you slide your erection between their mouths.

All three of you get naked, Minjeong taking the initiative and rubbing your cock against the entrance of her pussy, sexily moaning and making you groan like a monster. As you kiss Karina, Winter keeps her hands stroking your cock at all times, while Karina reaches hers to massage your balls, to which you reciprocate, reaching your own hand to massage her pussy. She then grabs your cock and massages it against Winter's navel.

Jimin and Minjeong drop you to the bed, as Ningning has also joined Giselle, both of them even getting popcorn as if they were watching a porn movie going live. Karina takes your cock all by herself while Minjeong sits on your face for you to lick her pretty pink pussy. "Ahhhh, ahhhhh, oh my God," the cute girl moans as you tongue her folds.

Karina grabs your throbbing shaft and rubs it against her big tits as Minjeong's moans grow louder. She clings to her unnie, trying to muffle them as her pussy gets wetter and wetter, kissing Karina and then sucking her tits. Karina turns her attention back to your cock before serving it to Minjeong as you two perform a hot 69 under her watch.

You can't stop making Minjeong moan; make her dive hard to lick and suck your cock; Karina is now teamed up with her. But Jimin decides to steal the candy for her, pulling a trick on Minjeong's treat, leaving her to fend for herself as you keep eating her out while Karina takes your cock and sucks it alone.

"OHHHHH FUCKKKK, AHHHHHHHH," Minjeong moans as you keep tonguing her cunt, getting her already out of breath. Karina is kind and lets her suck your cock while the big tit girl takes on your balls. "Oh yes, eat my pussy, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," Minjeong moans repeatedly.

"You were eating her pussy good, now I want you to eat mine too," Karina says as Winter goes to the side. She sits on your face too, and you definitely won't complain about every single Aespa girl turning your face into their stool. Minjeong takes the break you give her to kiss Karina and grab her wonderful milkers. But soon she realizes what she wants the most is your cock, diving to take it while Karina keeps moaning all by herself.

"You like how she eats your pussy?" Minjeong asks Karina, who agrees in between more moans. They kiss each other while Minjeong strokes your cock before she dives Karina's head for a sloppy 69. "Your saggy boobs look so hot in this position," Minjeong tells her, pushing Karina up to lick her boobs and play with them, sucking them like a baby afterwards and massaging them.

It's finally time for Minjeong to get your cock inside her, something she's been wanting since early in the morning. But before that, she does a little teasing, rubbing your shaft against the entrance of her vagina. However, the friction against her skin is so strong you can't resist and give her a surprise.

Your cock shakes and starts ejaculating shortly after Minjeong does all that rubbing. Caught off guard, she giggles and quickly inserts your cock inside her pussy, trying to get as much cum inside her before she even gets to ride your cock. "He couldn't resist and blew it before even going in," she laughs.

"Ahhhhh, oh God, it's still hard and big," Minjeong says as she puts it in her pussy and starts riding it. She takes it slow, still baffled by your monster cock's size. Karina is right behind her to help. "Unnie, it feels so good," Minjeong says in between moans as she picks up the pace, already losing her breath, while Karina just enjoys watching her get fucked while you reach to grope her tits.

"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes." It's all Minjeong can moan as she slides up and down your cock while Karina gives her some kisses and then gropes her little tits. "Yes, yes, yes, ohhhhhh, don't stop," Minjeong moans as Karina rubs her clit and makes her leg tremble.

"You seem to be enjoying that cock, Minjeong, but now it's my turn to try it," Karina says, moving forward to bounce on yourcock herself. Minjeong leads your shaft into her pussy, and Karina takes it with ease, impaling herself to the fullest from the beginning, while Minjeong gets to enjoy her big tits bouncing as she sucks them while rubbing her unnie's clit. Karina is incredible, riding you at a steady pace, and even from a back view, with Winter in the way kissing you, you can see her massive tits bouncing hard.

"Keep rubbing my clit Minjeong; make me cum," Karina begs as her moans get sexier. You join in and finger Minjeong's clit, both of them getting overwhelmed, but it's Karina who gets most of the fun, getting smashed by your cock as you make her boobs move like pinballs as she gets pounded from below. "Keep going, baby, I'm going to cum," she says as Minjeong shares more kisses and rubs her hand over Karina's incredible bangable body.

Karina quickly hops off your cock, letting and eager Minejong take a second ride as she gets back on top of you, thing time leaning forward as Karina grabs her cheeks and moves them up and down your cock. "Come on, Minjeong, show me you can do it," Karina says as the younger girl moans. "OH MY GOD, IT'S TOO BIG," she screams as you now wrap your hands around her body while Karina shoves her pussy right at Minjeong's face.

Karina gets on her knees and teases Minjeong to kiss her and suck her tits while riding your cock, but she's just too concentrated on it to even think straight. "OH FUCK," Minjeong moans as you two share kisses under Karina's watch now, her running Minjeong's hair, the young girl barely able to breathe with your monster cock constantly hitting her cervix.

"FUCK, IT'S SO DEEP IN ME," Minjeong says, kissing you again and then Karina as your cock makes her feel things she never did before, completely overwhelmed by your size. Karina lets her have a break, getting herself on all fours for you to fuck her pussy and make her saggy boobs bounce as hard as they can while Minjeong passionately kisses you. Karina moans hard as you show no mercy to her cunt, entertained by her tits moving at each thrust you give her.

Minjeong tastes your cock right from Karina's pussy, lubbing it to take on her tight hole and licking her asshole to further stimulate Karina. You grab Jimin's waist, taking your cock as deep as you can in her pussy while she dives to eat Winter's, her boobs pressed against the matress as you constantly fuck her. But it's Karina who comes out on top, eating Winter's already throbbing pussy and getting her close to cum.

"Give me your tongue, OH FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM," Winter moans as Karina licks her cunt nonstop, searching for your cum as your thrusts push her closer and closer to it. You two work perfectly to make little Minjeong cum again, as your cock is buried deep inside Karina and her tongue is buried deep inside Minjeong, who has to slide herself under Karina's beautiful, sexy body to save herself.

But not for long; if Karina can't use her tongue, she'll just use her hands, making Minjeong smile as she cums with her best friend on top of her, your cock now turned into just an accessory to their pleasure.

Karina moves up and down your cock, sexily moaning on Minjeong's face. God damn it, everything about her is so amazing. Her bangable body, her beautiful face, her huge tits—you just feel blessed for being able to fuck a goddess like her and have your cock go in and out of her pussy endlessly, making her moan each time you get deep inside her and enjoy the franctic bounce of her boobs.

Karina moves to the side, giving you the opportunity to slide your cock in Minjeong's creamy pussy as you get on top of her."OH MY GOD, DAMN IT," Minjeong moans as the mating press position means you get really deep inside her; she just closes her eyes and lets you passionately fuck her as you share kisses with her, Karina enjoying it right to her side. "Please, give me all that cock," she whispers in your ear with her soft voice.

You do just that, enjoying your cock bulge under Minjeong's sexy belly as you fuck her. "Don't stop, don't stop," she whispers. You keep thrusting her while Karina makes things even better, offering her tits for you to suck as you pound Minjeong. "Rub my pussy, make me cum, oh yeah, ah, ah, ah, yeah, yeah, yeah," she tells Karina, who then leans to kiss her and muffly Minjeong's moans, to no avail as she can't resist your cock hitting her nonstop, fingering herself into an orgasm as her legs start shaking with your cock still deep inside her.

Another break for Minjeong as she kisses you while Karina tastes her juices, diving down to suck your cock as Winter recovers from her orgasm. But soon the cute blonde Vixen wants a taste too, getting down as you and Karina share passionate kisses.

Karina seizes the opportunity to jump on your cock, but you quickly discipline the big tit slut, wrapping your hands around her and thrusting upwards while Minjeong smiles watching her get pounded and then kisses you. That's truly the perfect position, watching Karina's boobs bounce in full glory in front of you while she moans like a whore, all that with Minjeong kisses in between. Both of you massage her big tits, eager to get a piece of it as Karina moves her hips and dances on your cock as if she were performing on stage. You rub your hands all over her sexy body, her pussy now queefing every time your cock moves up and down it.

Karina clings to you and passionately kisses you as she leans forward before going back to more riding, going real fast as her tits become living beings and can't stop bouncing. Her and Minjeong hug and kiss you as they enjoy this Halloween night sex. Minjeong gets on all fours but can't handle your cock hitting her cervix, trying to run away before Karina comes in and pushes her back to you, all that while eating Minjeong's ass.

"Come on, take that cock at full speed," Karina says to Minjeong. You fuck her hard, making Minjeong scream. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," Karina is relentlessly licking Minjeong's asshole before moving up to kiss you as you play with her boobs while fucking Minjeong. You get closer and closer, Minjeong's tight pussy and your fast thrusts getting you on the verge of cumming. "Fuck me hard like that," she begs, grinning her teeth.

"AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, FUCK, OHHHHHHHHHH, FUCKKKKKK," Minjeong screams hard as you enjoy giving her a massive pounding to entertain Karina. Poor Minjeong can barely hold her weight on her knees, your cock turning her into just a fleshlight. "YES, YES, YES, YES," she keeps moaning.

You put a halt to your pounding of Minjeong and then ask your girlfriend. "Can I cum inside Karina?" "Of course," Giselle says. "You already fucked her for a long while; who am I to deny it?" she continues. Karina giggles as she gets ready for one final ride.

Spice it up, burn it up, run it up, up, up, up. Karina rides as hard as she can, you reaching to grab her big tits as they bounce harder than ever, her hips hitting hard as she sits on your cock. "Give me your cum, please; fill my tight pink pussy; ah, ah, ah," she begs. It doesn't take long for Karina to get it—your semen dripping out of her pink cunt as Minjeong comes in to lick it.

"Wow, that was an amazing Halloween night," you say to Giselle, kissing her. The other girls leave the room; you and your girlfriend are now all by yourselves.

"It isn't over yet, you fucking monster," Giselle says. "You're under arrest for excessive horniness," she continues, grabbing some handcuffs and tying you up before using them to tie you to the bed and blindfolding you.

Giselle then reaches out to Karina, giving her a proposal.

"Do you want an anal afterparty with my BF?" she asks.

"Of course," she answers.

"Then come here," Giselle says.

Giselle lets Karina sit on your cock. You can feel a tight asshole start surrounding it, but you never fucked it before. Surely it doesn't feel like your girlfriend's; you fucked it countless times to know it already. Karina then lays down as Giselle moves your hands towards her big tits. "Do you recognize her, baby?" she asks.

"K-Karina?" you say, confused.

"I think you two should have an afterparty; can you fuck her ass until she can't walk without even moving?" Giselle asks.

"I'll try my best," you answer her.

"Good, I want to see you ruin that big tit bitch in front of me." Giselle says

And that's exactly what you would do for the remainder of the night, stopping only after you made Karina's butthole prolapse and bleed like a killer stabbing his victim.

#giselle smut #aespa smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

1K notes · View notes

stxrvel · 2 months ago

Text

disclosure (6)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. platonic ot7 x f!reader for now content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, angst, reader becomes sus, fighting (in the wrong way), angry and mean jin? self-doubt. a/n. hi guysssssss!!! sorry it's taking me this long always, but i finally finished this part! i actually just finished it and it's almost 2am and i have to go to work in fivehours. i'm publishing this part as it is and maybe tomorrow if i have the time i'll look at it again, bc i'm really exhausted right now. and also please forgive me if there are any mistakes in the text;((((. but i hope you guys enjoy this 7k monster of a chapter and i'll see you next time!!

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

The fourth book of your saga was a reflection of everything you had gone through when you moved with your family to the capital. You finished the third book when you had barely been in the city for a month and maybe that's why it didn't have a happy ending and why everyone who had read the trilogy had been devastated with that ending. It wasn't something you had planned from the beginning, but it wasn't something that ruined the plot either. It was actually much better than you had planned.

And when you finally finished with the trilogy, starting to write again wasn't hard, especially with so many mixed emotions and so much repressed pain coming back to the surface uninvited.

Maybe you hadn't been in connection with your strong feelings since then, when the city constantly reminded you that you had lost the only people you considered your true friends and the pain of their absence and the harsh reality was a knife burying itself in your chest over and over again. You hadn't felt this much since the moment you realized that they were able to live their lives without you, but you had to go through the mourning of losing them.

You hadn't felt this much since then, until that moment when, having been just a day since you had decided you would take the path of healing, you had to reopen the draft of your fourth book and find all those angry paragraphs, spit out words, piled up letters and whole pages filled with pure rage and pain; of disappointment and realization… of betrayal.

“Are you going to start again already? Don't you think you deserve a break?”

The words Yuna had spoken to you that morning were echoing in your head from the moment you read the first words of this draft and the memories began to well up, emotions making your hair stand on end and your throat close up.

It was almost funny to remember how incredibly angry you were when you first arrived in the city.

The city, with posters of Jungkook's face on every corner, with his performances on some screens or just teenagers talking about him and whispering about his music, it was practically impossible to escape it. The city, with radios blaring Yoongi's songs, in a cab or on public transportation, interviews blaring on TVs in shopping malls. The city, with the international news, which echoed so much, about the spectacular promises of modeling. The country couldn't be prouder to have representatives of that caliber, because the moment Taehyung and Jimin overtook the West and broke the international barrier, it was only a matter of time before the others followed suit and completely changed the idea of entertainment and media in the country.

The first months in the city were nauseating, when you had to get used to and overcome your emotions the hard way, fighting against the aggressive tide that all the time tried to drown you, and that was noticeable in every word and every scene of that book, and you were almost sure that if any of them read it, they would know immediately. If they wanted to know anything about you, if they were really interested, there would be no better way than through your books; in no other situation would you be so vulnerable.

You wondered, for a moment, if any of them would have read any of the books by now. If Namjoon would remember when you asked him for strange words to describe emotions and now they were captured in those impressions, or when you asked Jin and Hoseok for their opinion about the complex construction of your world and each of their peculiar and crazy details can be found in those pages. Just as your books had all the pieces of you, it also had crumbs of them, and you wondered if they would notice if they read it.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

Maybe you do. That's why you had decided to close that cycle once and for all, and there was no better way to do it than to finally start with the edition of this book. Of this fourth book, so strong in its toughness and determination, so vulnerable in its rage and palpable pain.

It was the cleanest and purest and truest version of you.

But as much as you deserved it, it felt more like punishment. Reliving those emotions and evoking those memories caused you more anguish and you didn't know if you could face a kind of shock therapy like that to finally let go.

“The editors said you'd be here.”

You saw Choi Dohyun standing, leaning against the door frame above the computer screen that still displayed the title of the first chapter of your fourth book. On a Wednesday at barely eight o'clock in the morning, the great CEO decided to set aside a few minutes of his busy time to gratify you with his presence.

His calm, serene and carefree expression was the contrast to the swirl of emotions that ran through that room, rising from the crown of your head. You could almost tell he wasn't venturing into the office because he could feel the tension radiating from your position at the desk. He must have even seen it on your face.

You sighed and barely waved at him, running your hands over your face, trying to ease your tense muscles a little.

“Is there a specific reason why you don't want the editors to read the book?”

Choi Dohyun was a mystery. You only knew about him from the three-hour conversation you had the day before, besides the strange looks he cast at Yoongi from his office entrance. He had shown himself to be a very open person and it was clear that he was an expert at making things work his way. You knew he had agreed to many of your conditions because what he would get in return was bigger than what it would cost him, which really wasn't too much, just enough to maintain a level of creative freedom that would allow you to access editorial support when you saw fit —because you knew that once you handed it over, it would no longer be entirely yours—and often businessmen reflected their own personalities in how they negotiated a deal.

Dohyun tried to come across as a fairly personable person; he tried to be understanding, communicative and open-minded, so much so that he reminded you of the comfortable security of an older brother. However, you could tell in that meeting that he held back too much; that he had hated the way Yuna used to interrupt him to ask him questions or how your brother would put too many buts in his mouth and try to get information out of him that he shouldn't give away. You could tell he was impatient, that he really expected the meeting to last less than twenty minutes because he was sure you would sign the contract blindly as soon as you saw the profits you'd gain from the distribution and sale of your books. You also noticed, in case it wasn't obvious already, that he preferred to be in control as long as the situation and the people around him allowed it, for his convenience. If he gave in on several occasions, you knew it had been because he was very, very aware of everything that benefited him.

There were two options: Choi Dohyun wore a mask constantly, or Choi Dohyun was a fraud.

“I just wanted to read it one more time… before handing it over. I won't take long.”

“It's okay. No problem.” Dohyun finally walked into the room, the office he had handed you for whenever you decided to go to his publishing house. You didn't even know writers had that option; you didn't know if it was common, but he allowed it. He had also offered you a writing kit that included a typewriter that looked quite expensive, and although you hadn't accepted it, there it was in one of the corners of the office. Dohyun sat across from you, glancing at the few things you had brought from home to make the place a little more pleasant. “I understand that sometimes it's hard to separate yourself from your work. It's a part of you, after all. A kind of vulnerability that not everyone sees.”

That was the kind of thing that kept Dohyun's true nature a mystery. His stoic expression as he blurted out words of comfort. It almost felt like running sandpaper over cement. Not that you needed to figure him out, because at the end of the day he was a boss of sorts and you two were bound by a contract with mutual economic benefits —technically, you were each there for a benefit of your own— but it was something you wanted to be aware of, watchful of, informed of, because you had no way of knowing this guy wouldn't try to take advantage of some situation later, in any possible scenario.

“Yes…”

“Take as much time as you need. The demand for the trilogy is still pretty high, after all.”

You nodded at him in response, wary of his attempt to lighten the mood. If he was the kind of person you thought he was, he surely knew you didn't feel an ounce of trust towards him.

“In just two days you must have quite a bit of work to do with that,” you tried to continue the conversation, interspersing your gaze over the letters on the screen and his dark eyes.

“But it's a very welcome work. Aren't you glad your books were so well received?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, momentarily remembering the proud look on Yuna and your brother's face when they finally got you to see the reactions and opinions of your books on social media. “It's comforting. For your work to be appreciated, recognized… moreover, that it allows you to make a living from it. It's amazing and a very great privilege.”

Dohyun shook his head in assent, interlacing his fingers over his abdomen. From his nonchalant way of taking a seat across from you, slumped over the chair almost as if he was an old friend from college and not practically your boss, and from how his voice reflected that sense of calmness and confidence, you could almost tell he was perfectly selling the facade of the most trustworthy person in the world.

But ultimately it was your feeling and your need to automatically distrust anyone you met because you didn't know at what point they would try to take advantage of you or turn their back on you, and maybe Dohyun wasn't as bad a person as you wanted to paint him in your head. Maybe you would even accept that his presence was a bit comforting and that he actually reminded you of someone you used to know in the past and of whom currently, if you knew he was still alive, it was by sheer luck. That personality, that sense of security he conveyed and that way he had had of expressing himself to you in that meeting that showed a different and more mature kind of wisdom, indeed reminded you of someone else.

Dohyun was very, very much like Jin.

“Can I… ask you something?” you hesitated, alternating your gaze between the screen and his dark eyes, not quite sure if you wanted to go down that path, but aware that you would get something in return if you did, and perhaps the risk would be worth it. “But it's not related to… this.”

As you pointed to your computer and the rest of the office, you couldn't decipher what expression Dohyun sketched. Trying to read him like you did everyone else, it seemed he entertained a specific train of thought in his head and was sparked by your question, but you couldn't probe much further because he agreed, tilting his head to invite you to ask bluntly.

“How do you know Min Yoongi?”

Dohyun then lifted his chin and his lips curved into a sort of small smile that could more accurately be described as a grimace. With his eyes on the window, with the beautiful view of the city and its busy streets, Dohyun took his time to answer and his pleased and almost satisfied look gave you to understand that your question was not a surprise at all. Dohyun could take it simply as healthy curiosity, for after all Yoongi was a celebrity and there weren't many people around the country who couldn't recognize him and you literally saw him face to face.

However, of course, there was something about his attitude that felt different. He wasn't surprised by your question, it was true, but maybe not for the reason you thought.

“He's a friend of my best friend.” Dohyun finally answered, returning your gaze, a glint of amusement highlighting his dark eyes. “I met him a couple of years ago through him, who is also his best friend. Otherwise, I doubt we would've ever met.”

Ah, Dohyun had a best friend who was best friends with Yoongi. That could only mean one thing.

“Ah. Then your best friend is part of the seven kings.”

Dohyun raised his eyebrows, clearly amused by your choice of words and the permanence of that haunting smile and the glint in his eyes should've been warning enough. He had the posture, demeanor and speech of a person who knew he was in control of the situation. Whatever his purpose was in entertaining this conversation, you already knew you were involved in that reason, indirectly.

Dohyun knew something about you that you had no idea about.

“Yes, indeed. It's Kim Seokjin. We met in college.”

As you guessed, of course. That's where the similar traits you could find in his personality came from.

But then Yoongi wasn't directly friends with Dohyun, and they couldn't be that close because of the nonchalant way he referred to him, so the question of why he was here yesterday, precisely when you came, would remain unanswered. It could be a coincidence? Of course, and you could remain in doubt, or you could…

“Wow. You two really are a powerful duo.”

Dohyun let out a laugh, nodding, looking so comfortable with himself, as if you were asking all the questions you should be asking.

“I love my job and I know I'm good at what I do, but Jin is simply on another level.”

You nodded, getting into his game of pretending, with a half smile on your face.

You knew that if Yuna knew what you were doing she would shake her head and tell you that you were crazy; that you should try to be less hard on other people and that's why you had never been able to hit it off with the other co-workers in Sol's cafeteria.

“Yes. I hear he's a great surgeon. He was top of his class, wasn't he?”

“That's right.” Dohyun nodded, determined not to look away from you. “But you're close to them too, aren't you? I saw Taehyung's Instagram stories when he uploaded your books.”

You blinked. Once. And again. He had already figured you out, and now he wanted to reverse the table and get some kind of reaction or information from you that you didn't know what kind of mystery it would solve in his head. The best option was to feign a bit of surprise, which was what you did, as if you didn't expect him to suddenly bring that up.

“Well, we studied together in school, but we were never that close.”

You lifted a shoulder, trying to downplay the subject, as if on cue, and Dohyun nodded slightly processing the information, averting his gaze over the dark carpet on the floor. He seemed to be tying up loose ends in his head and had more questions, the way he squinted his eyes as you gave him his space to think.

You had no idea what he was getting at. You had already brought out to him that he was close friends with Kim Seokjin and that, basically by extension he knew Yoongi. You could almost say it was a bit of an ordinary, almost trivial topic, not overly suspicious. Unless, of course, he knew something else that raised his curiosity and made you look suspicious in his eyes for asking such questions.

It seemed the most certain theory.

“And through him you must have met the others sometime, right?”

And it seemed you were right, too.

You had to deny his assertion, you knew, but it seemed you had taken half a second too long because he beat you to the word, shaking his head in a nod, and then said:

“That explains a lot.”

“Huh?”

Play dumb, play dumb.

Dohyun cracked a big grin, looking almost like a predator in the midst of its hunt, and from that alone you knew he'd already put his puzzle together.

“Well… actually, now that we're being honest, Jin was the one who recommended me to read your books.”

Wow.

Okay.

Jin… told Dohyun about you? About your books?

That doesn't explain anything. In fact, more questions popped up in your head than you could control and you were sure Dohyun could see the question marks moving over your irises.

“He told me that there could be a great opportunity if I published you and he was really right. I don't regret sending you that offer.”

Dohyun leaned back against the backrest and stretched one of his arms over the chair next to him. His posture was a little more relaxed than before and you couldn't help the feeling of anger that ran through you because you had given him just what he wanted, but you couldn't concentrate too much on that because you were too surprised by what he had just blurted out, as if it was nothig.

Of all the things you could've imagined, you would never have considered that this huge and prestigious publishing house had offered you a contract just because one of the CEO's great friends had recommended it to him. I mean, if Jin had never talked about it, would you have had any chance of getting this offer? Of signing this contract? Would you have been recognized on your own merit and not because you were linked to the mouth of a close friend?

None of that made any sense. Why had Jin told Choi Dohyun about you? His best friend being the owner of the most prestigious publishing house in the country, clearly knowing the implications of his actions, why would he do that? Maybe he didn't count on his friend throwing him overboard someday for gossiping and because he has an ego bigger than his own head? Maybe he thought it would be an anonymous job forever? And for what reason? On what grounds? What kind of emotions moved him to make that decision? Maybe it was simply an altruistic desire. Maybe he was moved by the same thing that moved Taehyung, the one who started all this. But was it something premeditated or not? Was it something he had previously discussed with Namjoon? Would the others know about it? Would they have agreed? Would they not have cared?

In the midst of that mental stupor, the very idea of healing seemed stupid to you. The immense confusion and anger that was coursing through your blood had no place for this group of fools to continue to meddle in your life as if they were playing a fucking election game on their computer. Why? Why? Why?

You wanted to get out of a simple doubt with Dohyun, to know what kind of connection he had with Yoongi and that everything that had happened was a coincidence, and you had ended up with a thousand more questions, with a hundred confusions and even more mixed emotions.

And Yoongi… would he have been in his office yesterday for something related to that?

“At first I thought Taehyung had asked him, but Jin is quite careful about such things. He wouldn't hint something like that to me even because his brothers ask him to, unless it was someone he could vouch for. So you knew Jin too, right?”

You didn't try to deny it, but you didn't give him the reason either. Amidst a sea of questions and confusion, incredulous and angry, you just shook your head and crossed your arms.

“I'll bring the first draft tomorrow.”

Dohyun took his time, drumming his fingers on the wood of the chair, sending you a look as if he wanted to get more answers out of you because your attitude raised more doubts than he initially had. Maybe you let go of a wolf's leash or this would be a one-time occurrence, you had no idea. But he said nothing more. Finally he got up, said goodbye and left.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

You should've listened to Yuna.

The next day, when you finished editing the draft of your fourth book amid tears, several cups of coffee and an excruciating pain in your wrist, you finally handed it in to the editors with a heavy heart and an hour of sleep in your body. It had officially ceased to be yours. The revelation that Dohyun had actually offered you all of this because Jin had asked him to do so kept going round and round in your head and made you revise and edit that draft more harshly than you would've done before.

Maybe you added a few extra curse words.

“If you don't finish that pasta, I'm going to steal it from you.”

Yuna hadn't even finished her own plate and was already eyeing yours, her brow furrowed and her own fork stabbing the ceramic of the deep dish you'd served your friend in as she crossed the threshold of the front door. You had been stirring the food with your fork for a while, thinking, reflecting, theorizing, trying to figure out what you really wanted; trying to recognize and accept the emotions inside you that were upsetting you.

Your parents had left early and Seojun was back in his college dorms, so you invited Yuna to lunch because you knew she loved the pastries your mom made and because you thought it would do you good to have some company after turning in the draft of your book. But, really, you were more overwhelmed than before. Yuna's presence didn't stop the thoughts in your head from racing, nor did it erase from reality what had happened.

“Y/n?”

You raised your head.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, and tried to focus on eating lunch before rambling on.

“Is it because of the book?”

“No, no. Everything's fine. I was just thinking.”

“Do you think you should've waited a little longer to turn it in?”

You shook your head. “No.”

It wasn't an order from Dohyun or anything like that. You decided to get started on editing the next book because it was a bit desperate to have nothing to do. Before you could focus on the whole operational and logistical process of delivering the books, but now that was taken care of by a separate company and all you had to do was verify that the money was coming into your account and that was it. Not that it was bad, but you were not used to just sitting idly by. So you thought that continuing with the pre-publication editing of the next books might be a good way to pass the time.

You didn't expect, of course, the statement you heard the day before, let alone that it would knock down your motivation like the wind to dry leaves. After that conversation with Dohyun, you decided that the best thing you could do was to turn in that draft and give them as much work as possible as a distraction so that you wouldn't have to go back to that building for at least a couple of weeks. It wasn't a healthy activity, of course, because at the time you were only functioning to keep Yuna from questioning if there was something wrong with you. Well, she probably did, but she preferred not to comment on it, because you hadn't been giving her too many answers to her questions lately.

Having decided that Dohyun was an expert manipulator, you could only worry about the possibility that he might decide to comment something about that conversation to Jin or just stir up a conversation about the possible existence of a friendly bond with him during school time. You didn't know what could trigger that; with everything that had happened up to that point you could no longer be sure of anything or trust anything.

“No. I thought I'd turn it in now so I'd have more time to read the next books. I know that one isn't too bad. I revised it too many times while I was writing it and even after.”

“And it's pretty long, isn't it?”

You nodded, finally tasting another mouthful of pasta. “Seven hundred pages.”

“Holy Christ,” Yuna put a hand to her forehead and sketched a worried expression. Then her excited exclamation echoed throughout the house. “What a thrill! I can't wait to read it!!!!!!”

Yuna returned to work an hour later and you spent the rest of the afternoon between shifts of lying down staring at the ceiling and watching more videos about your books on social media, which you hadn't been able to leave since you saw them with your whole family in the living room. It still seemed surreal to you that you could search the name of your books on the internet and you would indeed get the results you expected. Clearly not all the opinions were praise, but you were willing to take all of that and learn, implement and consider it for the next stories you were willing to tell. For now, you were going to focus on keeping the editors busy enough that they wouldn't have to ask about it or demand your presence for any reason. This trilogy really was quite a lengthy saga, so when they finallt finish editing the fourth book, you'd have the fifth waiting, and so on. At least until you had another amazing idea for a new story.

Now, on the slightly more disturbing topics, you still had more loose ends to tie up than you had initially thought. As you still had those particles of anger running through your body and you were still convinced that there was still no room for healing and overcoming, you could only think about what Yoongi's presence in Dohyun's office was about and if it had to do with what Jin had done.

That was the first line of thought. The second one sounded more like Yuna with her serious voice trying to talk some sense into you and tell you that you were seeing into it too much, that surely it was all just a coincidence and that Yoongi's presence was just some kind of crossfire.

But… yet… how many more times did something like this have to happen before you stopped chalking it up to coincidence? How many more times would you say it was a coincidence until everything started to connect to a purpose? Did they even have a purpose? Did they have a reason for all this, for all this unnecessary drama? And was their reason worth it to compensate for the instability you were going through? Having pent up emotions, confusion, lots of doubts and zero answers was about to drive you crazy.

However, maybe seeing things from another approach would allow you to understand.

Because, honestly, you saw it as too complicated to be able to leave them behind in this way, when it seemed that, on purpose or not, you would keep finding them in your soup. Adopting a slightly more objective approach, even though your emotions were always running high when it came to them, could give you the resolution you were looking for and the answer to the questions you were asking yourself. And there would be nothing more than that, because it would be impossible to restore the friendship you once had. Perhaps the truth would be painful, but you would accept it as it was and move on. Now, as old as you were, it would not be as hard as it was ten years ago when in the midst of confusion and desolation you could only cry.

Now, you had already gone through the mourning and made peace with the distance, the absence and the betrayal.

Maybe, if you tried a little harder, you could bring real closure —and soon, hopefully— by finding the answers on your own.

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, which he was spinning around like a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and solve any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would make everyone feel comfortable enough to move forward.

In his head, Namjoon was a three thousand dollars conflict-solver. Seeking solutions from reason and objectivity was basically how he kept his company afloat, that company he had inherited from his parents and had turned into the economic juggernaut it was today. All that success was summed up in the capacity for resolution that Namjoon had in his super head and, of course, his strategic capacity that allowed him to read his opponents and know exactly what they wanted, how they wanted it and when they wanted it.

However…

The whole table was still silent.

And Namjoon could only look at the faces of each of his friends, his best friends, practically his brothers, while they shied away from his gaze or directly ignored him, while he clasped his hands on the edge of the chair and tried to keep his composure because he no longer knew what to do.

Kim Namjoon, the three-thousandth troubleshooter, had a factory defect and could not fix the one thing he had always been able to fix with ease.

When Hoseok had walked into his office two nights ago with that stern and serious expression, Namjoon knew that there would be more problems to solve. But if he had to be honest, even before that moment he knew it wasn't working out well. Maybe it was because of the delicacy of the subject or the crudeness of his friends to address it, but Namjoon was losing the important ingredient of patience and that was something that hadn't happened to him before.

But then again, how could they all be so insensitive?

“Doesn't anyone have anything to say?”

Hoseok had been the only one to be spared from this discussion, though his presence was required at the table and tension radiated from his body in equal amounts. The others were directly attacked by the three thousandth (broken) problem-solver and despite Namjoon giving them a space to try to explain the situation, the table was still silent and with each passing second the pressure cooker containing Namjoon's anger was beeping louder and louder.

“I don't think there's much to say.”

It was Jin who finally broke the silence and Namjoon let out some air.

“Ah, thank you, Jin. Why do you think so?”

With his arms crossed, the older sent him an incredulous look.

“We've had this conversation three times already, Namjoon. Why do you think it's necessary for us to keep repeating ourselves?”

Hoseok had told Namjoon that he was concerned about the coexistence in the pent-house and that perhaps the elephant in the room was not being addressed in the right way; that more and more misunderstandings were being created between everyone and that it was making for an untrustworthy environment for the youngers. Namjoon agreed halfway through; if he had to be honest, none of it would've gotten to that point if none of them had been so irresponsible and daring to do all that they had done. And Jin had the least right to dismiss the issue as he had.

“Because you all don't seem to have listened to me at all, especially you.”

Jin snorted and turned his head away. Jungkook beside him barely winced at the hostile exchange.

“And what did I do?”

“What did you do? Jin, how can you be so inconsiderate?”

“I only rushed an exchange that was eventually going to happen, what the fuck is wrong with that?”

Namjoon tried not to look so surprised by the fact that the conversation he had had with him two nights ago and Yoongi had basically gone in one ear and out the other. Namjoon had no idea if it was an occupational hazard or a personality trait, but Jin was having a kind of stubbornness that bordered too much on his pride and desire to be right.

And right now it wasn't about who was right or wrong. It was about the fact that they had all made a promise and now they were breaking it as if it was worthless. Worse, as if the only ones affected by it were them and not a third party.

“Didn't you stop to think how she would feel if she found out that was how things went down?”

Jin rolled his eyes, but didn't answer him.

“Why do you all do all these things without believing that they will have consequences beyond your own feelings? That's all I'm asking you to consider!”

Taehyung and Jungkook at least had the decency to actually look embarrassed, avoiding Namjoon's gaze. Jimin was still convinced that he had done nothing extremely wrong and Yoongi simply demonstrated his sorrow through indifference. Namjoon knew that Yoongi was just as frustrated as he was with the way things were going, because they were the only ones trying to fix the messes the others had been thoughtlessly causing. And Jin… well, it was obvious that he didn't see any big implications beyond having to be scolded by Namjoon.

“Guys…” Hoseok started, sitting to Namjoon's right with a tired and defeated expression. If Namjoon and Yoongi were looking out for the integrity of the third party concerned, Hoseok was the one who was most concerned about the bonds that were breaking between them and that was why he had gone to Namjoon to have a group meeting again and set the boundaries once and for all. “You guys know that Namjoon is not just talking for the sake of talking. Jin, you don't need to get defensive. I understand that you tried to make the connection in good faith, but you have to understand that it was a very high risk. And while Dohyun is your friend, you know he's not very trustworthy.”

Jin grunted then, despite the kind tone Hoseok used to address him, and the others at the table only sent him a surprised look.

“Sure, now it's all my own damn fault. Not only do I have to deal with the stress of work, now I have to come to my supposed time off to deal with this too?”

“Hyung,” Yoongi called after him and frowned at the rude tone the older had used. “No one is saying it's your fault. We all have a part in this.”

“I don't care, Yoongi. Whatever's going on right now you know who's really to blame. And there's nothing you can do about it anymore.”

“Jin,” Namjoon called back and the aforementioned turned to look at him with daggers in his eyes. “You made the promise too.”

“Yes, one I never agreed to and you know it.”

Hoseok sighed and ran his hands over his face. “This is not the time to apportion blame, okay? I only wanted this space because I want us to fix this lack of communication and all this hostility that is affecting our living together.”

Namjoon turned to look at the table, finding the younger ones sealed in silence. None of them raised their heads and they showed signs of nervousness and anxiety, even if they tried to hide it under the tablecloth on the table.

There were too many things Namjoon wanted to control; there were too many things he wanted to solve; there were a number of other things that drove him mad and others that made him feel hopeless. Understanding all these emotions, his own or others', was wearing him down and perhaps that was why he was increasingly losing an ounce of patience. However, no matter how hard it was for him, Namjoon had to be sure that his priority was right in front of him. He had chosen to do so a couple of years ago and he could no longer turn back time.

“Hey, I'm sorry, okay?” Namjoon started once again and although Hoseok tried to shush him to calm down, he continued, “I know how I've acted during these days since everything started and I have not been very open to dialogue. For me it was… it was like crossing a forbidden boundary and I couldn't understand how you guys could jump over it without a second thought. It made my hair stand on end and I didn't… I didn't… I didn't know how to contain those emotions, I didn't know how to control them and clearly I didn't know how to express them. And the truth is that it worries me. I understand that you don't, because otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that, but I would like you to try to do that because this is not a unilateral action that will only affect you and will only be in your memories. You are affecting her too, and very much so. We were not good, not even friendly or cordial, so I need you to understand that all these things she will not see them as you think. Jungkook, you experienced it first hand. She hates us.”

Jungkook jerked on the chair and Taehyung was the one who reached over the table to take his intertwined hands. Jin sighed, finally letting the anger dissipate and Yoongi mimicked him, a little calmer as he watched his elder relax. Hoseok shook his head in assent, noticing the tension at the table dissipate a bit and how the young men held each other.

“And rightly so, because we made an inexcusable decision. And not only that, but she will now believe that it was a simple Tuesday for us and it's not. We made the promise for a reason and anything related we were supposed to consult first as a group. Sure, life happens and we get busy with a lot of things and have too much on our minds, but this was all inexcusable and we owe her more than forgiveness. We probably owe her our lives.”

“Hyung, I'm sorry…”

Jungkook was the most regretful. Since that harsh encounter, for which he dared to risk his presence in public and for which he believed it would be worth a try, Jungkook had never regretted something so much since the day of the promise. He still remembered the hatred your voice exuded and shivers ran down his spine. He had been unconscious, that was true, and he didn't know what he had let consume his body to have made that decision or to have simply acted without thinking. The possibility of seeing you again simply…blinded him. But that was never an excuse.

And Namjoon knew that. It was Jungkook who acted worse than everyone else, but he also couldn't deny to himself that had he found himself in the same predicament, with the same opportunity, he wouldn't have done the same. Maybe that's why he was so demanding of others, because that's how he reminded himself that he had no right to even think about it, much less act on their emotions, when they had taken away your choice as if they had any say in it.

“We can't erase what has already happened and what you have already done. All I ask is that you don't make it worse.” Namjoon implored, closing his eyes in silent prayer. “At this point there is no way to fix anything, and if every day we do things like this we are only inflicting pain on someone who doesn't deserve it. So please, for the love of God, leave her alone.”

The whole table was still silent, but this time Namjoon could clearly see everyone's face and notice their emotions right away, as he had always been able to do. He still didn't understand what had moved them to do all that; to Taehyung, to Jungkook, to Jin, to Jimin, despite everything they had discussed before, and he didn't understand how he hadn't been able to foresee their intentions from the beginning. But he could no longer focus on what had happened, but on what was happening and what he could still fix.

For that which had already been broken for years, Namjoon doubted too much that any of it could ever be fixed, no matter how hard he tried. And boy, would he have wanted to try.

“I'm sorry,” Jin mumbled, and it almost seemed like he had ripped the words from the back of his throat, but Namjoon took it with all his being and considered it the first victory on this new path.

When he finally dispatched everyone, Jimin remained seated to his left.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

The blond looked disgruntled, and though it was clear that the tension was gone from his shoulders, in his gaze was that longing that Namjoon hadn't seen in years and certainly didn't allow in himself for all that he had previously exposed.

“Do you really think it's impossible to fix it?”

Namjoon hated knowing that the gleam in Jimin's eye had no future. At least not the one he wanted to believe. Namjoon, like everyone else, had spent sleepless nights thinking, remembering, reflecting and considering that they were never brave enough nor necessarily tough enough to earn that friendship once again. It had all gone to waste and it had been because of them.

“Yeah, I don't think that's possible.”

Jimin passed his saliva harshly, as if his mouth was dry, but he had to control and keep his emotions in check. Namjoon knew his every emotion and mainly knew how sensitive this whole issue was for Jimin, who from the beginning never agreed with him on anything and never hesitated to let him know. In fact, it took a couple of years before Namjoon could finally have this close relationship with Jimin again, until the blond decided to forgive him.

“It's silly to hope at this point, right?”

Namjoon also knew that Jimin struggled a lot to stop pointing blames, as Jin still did. He knew that, had Jimin had the opportunity in his hands several years in the past, he would have taken it and perhaps left them behind if he could. It was an extremely complex and long process to get the blond to trust Namjoon and those on his side again, which was one of the reasons why Hoseok was so insistent on talking and communicating and keeping everyone on good terms. It had cost them so much to re-form their trust that he couldn't allow it to crack once again.

Jimin nodded at his words when they were met with silence, for there was nothing Namjoon could say to comfort him. It was simply a heartbreaking situation.

“Tae and I will be with Jungkook.” Jimin assured Namjoon as he stood up. “Thank you… for trying.”

Namjoon only nodded, pressing his lips together in an attempt at a smile. Things would not automatically go back to the way they were before, as Namjoon's sternness in dealing with this issue on previous occasions was what initially caused this whole fiasco of miscommunication and hostility. He was heartily grateful that likewise Jimin took him into consideration, because he didn't know if he would be able to sleep knowing that everyone in that pent-house hated him. He didn't know if being the reason for the constant discord would allow him to have a respite of peace of mind at some point, when he was simply trying to do what he thought was best for everyone and what suited them on a sentimental level.

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, over which he circled as if it was a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and provide a solution to any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would allow everyone to feel comfortable enough to move forward.

However, at that moment, the past tense wording was the most accurate.

Namjoon used to believe.

Jimin stopped halfway up the stairs, transfixed, and Namjoon watched him curiously. Then, the blond half-turned on his heels and Namjoon got front row view of Jimin's pale face and his exaggeratedly expanded eyes as he looked at his phone.

“Hyung…”

Namjoon came striding over, intrigued as well as concerned by the expression on the blond's face.

Jimin had his Instagram open, specifically his direct messages. There was the message there that had made Jimin stop dead in his tracks and all blood dropped to his feet, but Namjoon didn't understand what the reason for his surprise was until he saw the sender, and then his eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

y/n Let's meet

omg🙊🙊

tag: @rinkud@futuristicenemychaos@pastelpeachess@parapiop7@11thenightwemet11 @yoongznme @queenbloody @lynnettys-world @darlingz99 @dreamerwasfound @chaotickyrith @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthigs @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @kariningss @juju-227592 @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @jincapableoflove @notrustfratedjin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @cerulean1riz @kawennote09 @angelfuzzy2 @themoonsblueside @damn-u-min-yoongi @drenix004 @dhanyasri @borahaetelevision

419 notes · View notes

pandorasword · 2 years ago

Text

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

ꕥ Stage name: CHAERI

ꕥ Birth name: Kang Chaeri

ꕥ Hangul: 채리

ꕥ Meaning: Cherry

ꕥ Nicknames: Chérie

ꕥ Birthdate: December 17, 1998

ꕥ Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius. Instead, according to the Korean/Chinese horoscope she was born under the sign of the Tiger

ꕥ Birthplace: Jeju-Do

ꕥ Places where she lived: Jeju-Do; Paris

ꕥ Ethnicity: Korean

ꕥ Languages: Fluent in Korean and French. Currently learning English and Japanese at a higher level than school level

ꕥ Height: 163cm - 5’4 feet

ꕥ Weight: 45kg

ꕥ Blood type: AB Negative

ꕥ Education: Home-schooled

ꕥ Position: Main dancer, Lead vocalist, Maknae

ꕥ Debut: June 13, 2013

ꕥ Debut age: 14 1/2 years old | 15 1/2 years old in Korean age

ꕥ Trainee period: Almost 1 year

ꕥ Instagram: bts.bighitofficial (official) | chaeri (individual)

ꕥ Twitter: bts_twt (official)

ꕥ YouTube: BANGTANTV

ꕥ Relationship status: Taken

ꕥ Family members: Kang Dal (Brother) 달 Kim Eun (Mother) 은 Kang Si-u (Father) 시우

ꕥ Close friends (outside the company): Yeri (Red Velvet) Soojin ( (G)I-DLE ) Mingyu, The8 and Vernon (SEVENTEEN) Chan ( A.C.E. )

ꕥ MBTI: ENFJ-T; Turbulent Protagonist

ꕥ Personality:

◌ Sensitive to the problems of others;

◌ Not comfortable dealing with emotions and stress. This help tho to empathize more deeply with others who are having trouble dealing with similar things;

◌ Charismatic and natural leader;

◌ Likely to ask for an opinion but unlikely to change their minds;

◌ Hothead;

◌ Outgoing and friendly;

◌ Rebellious;

ꕥ Known for:

Being the only girl in a group that was supposed to have only boys;

Daughter of a former Prima Ballerina of the Paris Ballet;

Being best friends with Red Velvet’s Yuri;

Being able to dance any style;

Being overly spoilt by her bangtans’ brothers;

Taking pics everywhere she goes;

Becoming a trainee and debuting within a year;

Loving wine, like a lot (and sparkling cocktails too);

Being the first member of BTS to officially announce to be in a relationship;

Being one of the idols who changes the most outfits during a single show;

Being the other half of V (platonic);

Being the enthusiastic caretaker of the group;

Being very flexible;

Being among the best idol dancers of her generation;

Being one of the most influential women representing South Korea;

Creating her own fashion brand as a solo business. It's labeled ‘JEONG'.

Fans freaked out by the coincidence that the brand name and Jeon Jungkook's name are almost the same, but in fact most Armys seems to not to believe in coincidences. The word 'Jeong', which is untranslatable in other languages, can, however, be traced back to the Korean word for 'connection'. It is an emotional and psychological bond. It should be pointed out that it is not us who experience 'Jeong' but it is the ‘Jeong’ that makes us connected to another person, to an animal, to a place. Her brand logo ↓

ꕥ Facts:

◌ She was named Chaeri because during the pregnancy her mother was always craving cherries

◌ According to BTS managers, Chaeri is good at negotiating and making counterproposals to reach a meeting point between the request (of the managers) and the solution (what she would like to do instead)

◌ She studied ballet (and other dance styles in the background) from the age of 3 until she was 13, international age. Being the daughter of a prima ballerina, her mother expected a bright future from her in that.

◌ Her parents separated shortly after her birth. Her mother could not bear the fact that her husband's plans to start a world-famous restaurant chain had gone up in smoke. So she left with her two children for Europe, Paris, to make them study ballet professionally and settle there full-time.

◌ In an interview, Chaeri explains how she found herself having to ask the hyung line, rather than her parents, for permission to do or not do certain things during her teenage years. When asked who among them was most likely to let her do what she wanted, her answer was J-Hope

◌ She left Paris at the age of 13 to live again with her father in Jeju-do, deciding to leave ballet for good and devote herself to dance styles that more reflected her wishes. She doesn't like to talk about the real reasons why she left Europe

◌ Her fashion brand, JEONG, is based solely on the creation of couples' clothing and matching outfits

◌ She has a high level of stamina as long as she is in the middle of something, when she stops she suddenly feels fatigue crushing her

◌ During the first months of living with the BTS members, the thought of having to sleep in a single room with seven men made her completely uncomfortable, yet she feared hurting their feelings by expressing this concern since everyone had been kind and helpful to her from the start. That is why, for months, she would let them all fall asleep before leaving the room and positioning herself on a folding chair in the small, messy living room. One night, after a while, she found herself simply falling asleep in her bed before the others did, and the next morning, she finally realized that she felt safe surrounded by those boys and that sleeping with them would not turn out to be so bad.

◌ Her brother, Dal, is three years older than her. Their relationship is troubled as he is still on good terms with their mother and she is not.

◌ She has known Chan, a member of the group A.C.E., since before they both debuted

◌ She was home-schooled by a tutor in both France and Korea during her teenage years. When both of her parents agreed to sign their daughter's contract with Big Hit, as she was a minor, her mother made it clear to the company that she wanted her daughter to continue home-schooling or she would not have accepted the agreement. Therefore, unlike Jungkook, she did not attend SOPA or any other art schools. In several videos, Chaeri can be seen, at the oddest moments, alongside a man with a censored face intent on studying or transcribing something. The name of the Korean tutor has never been revealed

◌ During her periods of rebellion she always justified herself by saying that since she was home-schooled, those were her only opportunities to be unreasonable and that they should have dealt with that

◌ She is completely comfortable with her feminine vibes

◌ As soon as she became adult enough, she made it very clear to the company that she wanted to abandon that uniquely soft image they were propagating of her and begin to define her identity as a Woman

◌ She is in a relationship with Ateez’s captain, Hongjoong. Although she feels great affection towards him, she is sure that if her first love was not a forbidden love, nothing would have ever clicked between them. In a private conversation, when asked by Taehyung if that was the kind of love she was looking for, she replied that 'he calms her mind’. The couple is much loved by fans and tabloids

◌ Her father is her number one fan

ꕥ Hobbies: ◌ Aerial yoga ◌ Snowboarding ◌ Designing clothes for her brand, she enjoys it so much that she won't call it a duty ◌ Any reckless sport

ꕥ Her top 5 songs: ♪ Obsessed - Mariah Carey ♪ Tous les Mêmes - Stromae ♪ Gotta go - Chung Ha ♪ Moth to a flame - The Weeknd ♪ Love shot - EXO

ꕥ Face claim: mostly @/kkmmmkk on IG + other female idols when needed

261 notes · View notes

w1w2 · 1 month ago

Text

Taste

Karina x Fem!Reader feat. Winter

Word Count: ca. 6k

Synopsis: Amid the shimmering lights of an exclusive party, Y/N finds herself drawn back into the orbit of a complicated past. Memories and emotions collide as she faces unspoken truths and unresolved tensions with two familiar figures. As the night deepens, Y/N is forced to reckon with what she’s lost, what remains, and the strength it takes to walk away.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The venue exuded understated elegance, its high ceilings and minimalist decor a perfect canvas for the glamour of the night. Warm golden light spilled from modern chandeliers, catching the shimmer of sequins and polished champagne flutes as Korea’s entertainment elite mingled and posed for photographers.

Y/N stepped inside, the click of her heels muted by the soft carpeting. She wore a sleek, tailored dress that hugged her frame, a vision of quiet confidence. The air was alive with the hum of conversations, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses.

Her lips curled into a practiced smile as Irene, tonight’s host and star, approached.

“Y/N,” Irene said warmly, her shimmering gown catching the light. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Congratulation.” Y/N replied, her tone as smooth as the champagne she plucked from a passing tray.

They exchanged pleasantries—industry updates, compliments on Irene’s solo debut—but Y/N’s attention began to waver, her eyes scanning the crowd over Irene’s shoulder.

She’s here.

The realization hit before she even saw her. There was an electricity in the room, a pull she couldn’t ignore. And then, as though drawn by instinct, her gaze found her.

Yu Jimin stood near the far wall, radiant as ever. Her long, dark hair framed her sharp features perfectly, her elegant black dress accentuating her tall frame. She was smiling, laughing softly at something Kim Minjeong had said.

Minjeong.

Y/N’s throat tightened as her eyes shifted to the smaller woman at Jimin’s side. Minjeong’s blonde hair fell in soft waves, her white dress glowing under the golden lights. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her laugh bright and unrestrained as she leaned closer to Jimin.

They looked perfect together. Too perfect.

"Oh, I leave quite an impression. Five feet, to be exact."

Y/N’s lips pressed into a thin line as the lyric echoed in her mind, bitter and sharp. She forced her attention back to Irene, nodding at something she’d said, though she hadn’t processed a word.

“Excuse me,” Y/N murmured, lifting her champagne glass in a half-toast before retreating toward the bar.

The bar offered a small reprieve from the crowded room, but it did little to quiet the storm brewing in Y/N’s chest. She tapped her nails against the glass, her thoughts racing.

She hated how easily Jimin still got under her skin. The way her presence filled a room, the way her laughter—so effortless—could drown out everything else.

And yet, here Y/N was, stuck in her orbit again.

Her eyes betrayed her resolve as they flicked back to the far side of the room. Jimin had leaned in closer to Minjeong now, her hand resting lightly on the small of Minjeong’s back. The touch was subtle, casual even, but it screamed intimacy to Y/N.

"You’re wonderin’ why half her clothes went missin’. My body’s where they’re at."

She clenched her jaw, the memory slicing through her composure. Did Minjeong know? Did she know about the stolen nights, the whispered promises, and the way Jimin’s voice used to tremble when she said Y/N’s name?

Y/N turned back to the bar, signaling for another drink.

Flashback

“Do you always have to be so dramatic?” Jimin teased, leaning against the kitchen counter as Y/N searched for a coffee filter.

Y/N spun around, brandishing the empty box. “You’re telling me you live here and don’t have coffee filters? What kind of monster are you?”

Jimin laughed, that low, melodic sound that always made Y/N’s heart skip. “A tea person. Obviously.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched. She stepped closer, the box still in hand. “This is unforgivable.”

“Is it?” Jimin asked, her voice softer now. She reached out, her fingers grazing Y/N’s wrist. “How are you going to punish me?”

Y/N tilted her head, her breath catching at the way Jimin’s eyes softened, her teasing replaced by something more vulnerable.

“I’ll think of something,” Y/N murmured, leaning in until their lips met.

End of the flashback

Y/N blinked back to the present, setting her glass down with more force than she intended. The memory still clung to her, its edges bittersweet and raw.

From across the room, as though sensing Y/N’s turmoil, Jimin’s eyes met hers.

The connection was immediate, electric. Jimin’s laughter faded, her smile dimming as her gaze lingered. For a moment, the noise of the party seemed to dull, leaving only the unspoken tension crackling between them.

Minjeong, oblivious, tugged lightly on Jimin’s arm, pulling her back into their conversation. Jimin tore her gaze away, her expression unreadable.

Y/N exhaled sharply, her chest tight. She turned back, signaling for another drink.

Y/N took the fresh glass of champagne from the bartender, her fingers wrapping around the stem as if it were her only anchor. She hated how easily Jimin still got under her skin. The way her presence filled a room, the way her laughter—so effortless—could drown out everything else.

And yet, here Y/N was stuck in her orbit again.

Does she know?

The thought twisted in her mind, sharper than she wanted to admit. Did Minjeong know about her? About the stolen nights, the whispered promises, and the way Jimin had trembled in her arms? Did Minjeong know that, even as she smiled so sweetly now, Jimin still carried the ghost of their time together?

Y/N clenched her jaw, her polished exterior barely holding under the weight of it all.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

She turned, startled to find Irene standing beside her. Irene’s sharp eyes missed nothing, though her smile remained polite.

“Fine,” Y/N replied quickly, smoothing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Just needed a breather.”

Irene studied her for a moment, the corner of her mouth twitching. “A breather or a distraction?”

Y/N chuckled softly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re too observant for your own good.”

“It’s a gift,” Irene replied, her tone light but her gaze pointed. She glanced toward Jimin and Minjeong, her expression unreadable. “You know, some things have a way of lingering even when you think they shouldn’t.”

Y/N’s lips tightened around the rim of her glass, but she didn’t respond. Instead, her eyes flickered back toward Jimin, unbidden. The sight of her, standing so effortlessly close to Minjeong, stirred something sharp and restless in Y/N’s chest.

The room felt warmer, the noise of clinking glasses and muted laughter pressing in. Y/N took a steadying breath, her fingers tracing the edge of her flute.

Irene seemed to sense her unease. “Don’t let the ghosts win,” she said softly, her voice almost lost in the hum of the crowd.

Y/N blinked, turning to look at her. “What makes you think they have?”

Irene smiled faintly, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she offered a polite nod and slipped away, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts.

As Y/N let her gaze drift back across the room, her breath caught. Jimin’s eyes flickered toward her, the connection immediate and electric.

Jimin felt Y/N’s gaze like a static charge in the air. It prickled at her skin, pulling her attention no matter how hard she tried to focus on Minjeong.

“Jimin?”

Minjeong’s voice was gentle, her head tilted in that familiar way that always made Jimin feel safe.

“Hm?” Jimin blinked, realizing Minjeong had asked her a question.

“Are you okay?” Minjeong asked, a hint of worry creeping into her tone. “You seem... distracted.”

Jimin forced a smile, giving Minjeong’s hand a light squeeze. “I’m fine, just a lot on my mind.”

Minjeong seemed to accept the answer, but her eyes lingered on Jimin’s for a moment too long. There was a quiet curiosity in her gaze, as if she sensed there was more to Jimin’s distraction than the weight of the event.

“Okay,” Minjeong said softly, her voice tinged with a gentle reassurance. She turned her attention back to the room.

Jimin exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly when Minjeong wasn’t looking. Her gaze wandered again—inevitably—to Y/N.

Y/N, leaning against the bar, looked unshaken on the surface. But Jimin recognized the tension in her posture, the way her fingers traced the edge of her glass as if holding herself in check.

For a brief second, Jimin allowed herself to linger, her chest tightening with the weight of everything unspoken.

Y/N was halfway through her second glass of champagne when her resolve finally cracked. The air around her felt too thick, the noise of the party too loud. But it wasn’t the room that suffocated her—it was the unanswered questions, the lingering tension that stretched between her and Jimin like a taut string.

Y/N had just set her glass down when she saw Jimin approach. Her movements were deliberate, her expression poised, but Y/N could see the cracks beneath the surface.

“Y/N,” Jimin said softly, the sound of her name almost lost in the noise around them.

“Jimin,” Y/N replied, her tone smooth but edged with something sharp.

Before the tension could unravel further, Minjeong appeared beside Jimin, her timing impeccable. Her expression was curious but polite as she took in Y/N, her smile warm and unassuming.

“Hi,” Minjeong said, offering a small nod.

Y/N’s chest tightened. She managed a faint smile. “Hi.”

The silence stretched, awkward and palpable. Minjeong glanced between them, her brow furrowing slightly.

“Minjeong,” Jimin said, her voice unusually tight, “would you mind grabbing us some water? I’ll be right here.”

Minjeong hesitated for the briefest moment but nodded. “Sure.” She touched Jimin’s arm lightly before walking away, her presence leaving a noticeable void.

Y/N didn’t wait for Jimin to speak. “She’s sweet,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

“She is,” Jimin replied, her voice quieter now.

Y/N tilted her head, her gaze piercing. “And yet, here we are.”

Jimin’s breath hitched, but she said nothing, her eyes darting to the glass in her hand.

“Funny,” Y/N continued, her voice low but cutting. “She doesn’t seem to notice the way you keep looking at me.”

Jimin opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. The tension between them was a living thing now, thrumming like a heartbeat.

"I heard you’re back together, and if that’s true, you’ll just have to taste me when she’s kissing you."

Y/N took a step closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Does she know, Jimin? Does she know that when you touch her, you’re thinking of me?”

Jimin flinched, the sharpness of the words slicing through her composure.

Before Jimin could respond, Minjeong returned, her bright smile cutting through the haze like sunlight after a storm.

“Here you go,” Minjeong said, handing Jimin a glass of water.

Y/N stepped back, her mask slipping back into place as easily as a curtain falling over a stage.

“I’ll see you around,” she said smoothly, her gaze flicking between them before she turned and walked away.

As Y/N disappeared into the crowd, Jimin’s grip tightened around the glass, her knuckles white against the delicate crystal. She drew in a slow breath, but it did little to steady the weight pressing down on her chest.

She turned back to Minjeong, who was mid-conversation with another guest, her soft laugh cutting through the noise of the room. For a moment, Jimin envied Minjeong’s lightness—the way she could immerse herself so fully in the moment without the shadow of someone else pulling her attention away.

Jimin’s gaze darted back to where Y/N had been moments before, but she was gone. The space she’d occupied felt like a void, lingering in the back of Jimin’s mind like a stubborn echo.

The sound of laughter from the far side of the room blended into a dull hum as Y/N leaned against the bar. Her polished exterior—so carefully constructed—was starting to falter, and she hated it. Every glimpse of Jimin and Minjeong together chipped away at the armor she had built around herself since the breakup.

The memories came unbidden, vivid and cruel, pulling her back to moments she thought she had locked away.

Flashback

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jimin had whispered, though the way her hand lingered on Y/N’s wrist told a different story.

Y/N smirked, stepping closer. “Maybe not. But here I am.”

They were in Jimin’s hotel room, the city lights spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting everything in shades of gold and shadow. The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, the world outside nothing but a distant hum.

Jimin looked at Y/N like she was a question she didn’t know how to answer. There was hesitation in her eyes, but it was overpowered by something deeper, something hungry.

“You’re trouble,” Jimin murmured, her voice soft but unsteady.

Y/N tilted her head, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. “You like trouble.”

Whatever restraint Jimin had been clinging to snapped in that moment. She pulled Y/N closer, her lips crashing against hers in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation. Y/N’s hands found their way into Jimin’s hair, tugging gently, earning a soft gasp that sent a shiver down her spine.

For a while, it was just them—no consequences, no questions.

End of the flashback

Back at the bar, Y/N’s fingers curled around her champagne flute as the memory faded. She exhaled shakily, her chest tight.

"Every time you close your eyes… Just know I was already there."

The lyrics twisted in her mind, bitter and taunting. Y/N took a sip of champagne, willing the ache in her chest to dull.

Flashback

“What are you smiling about?” Y/N asked, her voice soft and teasing.

Jimin turned her head, her cheek resting against the pillow. Her dark hair was a mess, her face bare, and her expression unguarded in a way that made Y/N’s heart ache.

“Nothing,” Jimin said, though her smile grew.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, rolling onto her side to face her. “You’re terrible at lying.”

Jimin laughed, the sound low and melodic. “Okay, fine,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I was just thinking… this feels nice.”

“Nice?” Y/N repeated, pretending to be offended.

Jimin rolled her eyes but leaned closer, her hand finding Y/N’s beneath the sheets. “You know what I mean.”

Y/N’s teasing faded as she took in the sincerity in Jimin’s eyes. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I know.”

They stayed like that for a while, tangled in the quiet morning light, the world outside their little bubble forgotten.

End of the flashback

Y/N’s jaw tightened as she watched Jimin from across the room. She leaned in to whisper something to Minjeong, earning a soft laugh in return. The sight sent a fresh pang through Y/N’s chest, though she refused to let it show.

She used to smile like that for me.

The thought was bitter, yet undeniable. Y/N knew she had left her mark on Jimin, even if she’d been cast aside.

Flashback

“You’re really going back to her?” Y/N’s voice wavered despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

Jimin stood near the door, her arms crossed, her expression conflicted. “It’s not that simple, Y/N.”

“It is,” Y/N said, taking a step closer. “You’re making it complicated.”

Jimin’s shoulders slumped, and she turned her gaze to the floor. “I can’t… I can’t keep doing this. With you. With her.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she forced herself to speak. “So, what? You’re choosing her? After everything we—”

“It’s not about choosing!” Jimin interrupted, her voice rising for the first time. “It’s about… it’s about history. And safety. And not ruining everything I’ve worked for.”

Y/N froze, her chest tightening. “Ruining everything?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin’s expression softened, regret flashing in her eyes. “Y/N, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” Y/N said, cutting her off. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You meant every word.”

Jimin reached for her, but Y/N stepped back, shaking her head. “Just go,” she said, her voice breaking. “If that’s what you want, then go.”

And Jimin did.

End of the flashback

The memory still felt fresh, even now. Y/N closed her eyes briefly, the noise of the party becoming a distant hum as her thoughts spiraled.

"You can have her if you like. I've been there, done that once or twice."

She hated how true the words felt, how much of herself she had given to Jimin, only to be left behind.

When she opened her eyes again, she caught Jimin looking at her from across the room. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded.

Y/N held her gaze, refusing to look away, even as her chest tightened with everything unsaid.

And then, just as quickly as it happened, Jimin turned back to Minjeong, her expression unreadable.

Y/N exhaled slowly, setting her empty glass on the bar. The night was far from over, but she was already exhausted. The air felt too thick, the noise of the party too loud, pressing against her like a weight she couldn’t shake.

She glanced over her shoulder, half-tempted to slip away unnoticed, but something held her in place. A pull she couldn’t resist.

Her gaze drifted across the room, searching for the source of her unrest.

The crowd ebbed and flowed like a tide, vibrant and alive, but Y/N stood still, her gaze fixed on Jimin and Minjeong across the room. They looked effortless together, a picture of ease and harmony that made Y/N’s chest ache.

Minjeong’s laugh was bright and unrestrained, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. She had an openness about her, a warmth that drew people in without trying. Y/N watched as Jimin leaned in closer, her tall frame almost curling protectively around Minjeong’s smaller one. The movement was subtle, instinctive, and painfully familiar.

She learned that from me.

The thought hit Y/N before she could stop it, sharp and unrelenting.

She couldn’t unsee the parallels. The way Jimin tilted her head just so, nodding along as Minjeong spoke, her lips curling into that soft, private smile. It was the same smile Jimin had once saved for Y/N, during late-night conversations and whispered secrets.

Y/N’s grip tightened on her glass as another laugh rang out. Jimin was teasing Minjeong now, something clever and understated that had Minjeong giggling and swatting at her arm playfully. The sound of Jimin’s laugh—low and melodic—sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

"She’s funny now, all her jokes hit different. Guess who she learned that from?"

The thought was bitter, yet undeniable. Y/N had taught Jimin how to wield humor like a weapon—lighthearted but disarming, a way to draw someone closer without them even realizing it.

Jimin glanced up, her gaze flickering to Y/N for the briefest of moments. Her expression remained unreadable, her polished composure firmly in place.

But Y/N saw through it. She saw the crack beneath the surface, the hesitation that lingered in Jimin’s movements every time their eyes met.

“Jimin,” Minjeong said, her voice cutting through the moment. She tugged gently on Jimin’s hand, smiling up at her.

Jimin blinked, her attention snapping back to Minjeong. Her lips curved into a smile. Warm, reassuring, but not quite reaching her eyes. “What is it?”

Minjeong tilted her head toward the dessert table. “They’ve got those little tarts you love. Want to grab some before they’re gone?”

Jimin hesitated, her gaze darting back toward Y/N’s direction, but she caught herself quickly. “Yeah,” she said, squeezing Minjeong’s hand lightly. “Let’s go.”

The two moved together, weaving through the crowd, but Y/N’s eyes followed them like a magnet.

Y/N set her glass down on the bar, her fingers tracing the rim absently. She hated how much power Jimin still held over her, even from across a crowded room. But there was something else there, something she couldn’t ignore.

Pride.

Despite everything—despite the heartbreak and the bitterness—Y/N couldn’t help but feel a small, stubborn sense of pride in the way she had shaped Jimin. Their time together had been brief but intense, and it had left an imprint on Jimin that couldn’t be erased.

The way Jimin leaned into Minjeong now, her touches gentle but deliberate, mirrored the intimacy they’d once shared. It was a habit Y/N had teased her about endlessly, back when they’d stolen moments away from the rest of the world.

From the dessert table, Jimin glanced over her shoulder, her eyes seeking out Y/N once again. Minjeong didn’t seem to notice, too busy chatting with the person next to her, but Jimin’s focus wavered.

Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but the words died in her throat. The weight of Y/N’s gaze, the history between them, lingered like a ghost in the air.

Minjeong turned back to Jimin, holding up a tart with a playful grin. “Got one for you before I ate them all.”

Jimin laughed softly, shaking her head. “Thanks,” she said, her voice gentle.

But as Minjeong handed her the dessert, Jimin’s hand trembled slightly, the crack in her facade growing just a little wider.

Minjeong, ever perceptive, tilted her head curiously but said nothing, her focus shifting to a nearby conversation. Jimin’s eyes darted back toward Y/N, the weight of their shared history tugging at her chest.

Across the room, Y/N noticed the hesitation. The tremor. The way Jimin’s gaze flickered toward her as if she couldn’t help herself.

Y/N exhaled slowly, letting the tension settle in her chest. She didn’t need to fight for Jimin’s attention; she already had it. Every glance, every hesitation, every joke Jimin told was proof of the mark Y/N had left.

But it wasn’t enough—not anymore.

Her gaze shifted away, back to her own reflection in the bar’s mirror. The woman staring back at her looked composed, confident. But underneath, she was tired. Tired of being haunted by someone who had chosen stability over passion.

"You’ll just have to taste me when she’s kissing you."

The lyric echoed in her mind, bitter and unyielding. Y/N straightened her posture, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips.

Let Jimin remember her. Let her feel the weight of Y/N’s absence every time she touched Minjeong. Y/N wasn’t going to fight for someone who didn’t choose her—not anymore.

The thought gave her a fleeting sense of closure, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the restlessness thrumming in her chest. The noise of the party felt louder now, the air heavier.

She needed to get out, to find some space where she could breathe without feeling like the walls were closing in.

Y/N turned away from the bar and slipped through the crowd, weaving past clusters of chatter and bursts of laughter until she found a side door leading to the balcony.

The balcony was quiet, the distant hum of the city below muffled by the soundproof glass doors behind her. A faint breeze teased at the edges of Y/N’s dress, the chill of the night air biting against her skin. She leaned against the railing, her champagne flute dangling loosely from her fingers, the golden liquid untouched.

The room inside had become too much—the laughter, the stolen glances, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on her chest. Out here, under the glow of the moon and the soft glitter of city lights, she could breathe.

But not for long.

The sound of the door sliding open made her stiffen. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Y/N.” Jimin’s voice was soft, hesitant, but it carried through the still night air like a whisper in a cathedral.

Y/N didn’t look at her. “I was wondering when you’d come,” she said, her voice steady but devoid of warmth.

Jimin stepped closer, her heels clicking against the stone floor. “I just... needed to talk to you.”

That made Y/N laugh, low and humorless. She turned, leaning her hip against the railing as she finally met Jimin’s gaze. “Talk?” she repeated. “Now you want to talk?”

Jimin’s lips parted, but no words came. For the first time tonight, her polished composure wavered, cracks appearing in the armor she’d so carefully built.

“I saw the way you were looking at me,” Y/N continued, her tone sharper now. “Or maybe you were just trying to see through me. Is that it, Jimin? Hoping I’d disappear if you ignored me long enough?”

Jimin flinched, her hand tightening on the clutch she’d brought with her. “That’s not fair,” she murmured.

“Fair?” Y/N took a step forward, her voice dropping into something softer, more dangerous. “You think this is fair? Watching you play house with her while you look at me like—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “Forget it.”

Jimin took a shaky breath, her voice quieter now. “I didn’t plan this, Y/N. I didn’t plan on you being here tonight.”

“And yet, here we are,” Y/N said, a bitter edge to her words. She swirled the champagne in her glass absently before setting it on the railing. “So, what do you want? To explain? To apologize? Or are you just here to make yourself feel better?”

“That’s not why—” Jimin started, but Y/N cut her off.

“Spare me,” Y/N said, her voice laced with exhaustion. She looked at Jimin, her eyes sharp and unyielding. “You chose her. Again. And maybe that’s what hurts the most—not that you left, but that you always seem to come back just to remind me of it.”

Jimin’s carefully constructed walls began to crack, her breathing uneven. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice trembling.

Y/N laughed again, shaking her head. “Congratulations. You failed.”

For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of traffic below.

“I still think about you,” Jimin admitted quietly, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. Her gaze dropped to the ground, as if saying it out loud was too much to bear. “I see you everywhere—in my head, in my jokes, in the way I…” She trailed off, her voice breaking.

Y/N’s throat tightened, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she tilted her head, her lips curling into a small, wry smile. “You’ll just have to taste me when she’s kissing you.”

Jimin’s head snapped up, her eyes wide and glassy. She looked like she wanted to respond, to fight back, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Look, Jimin,” Y/N said, her voice softening slightly, the sharp edges of her anger dulled by exhaustion. “I don’t want to be your regret. But I know I’ll always be your ghost.”

Jimin flinched at the word, her composure crumbling further. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to argue, but no words came. Instead, her hand lifted halfway, fingers trembling like they were caught between reaching for Y/N and letting go entirely.

“Don’t,” Y/N said quietly, her tone not harsh but resolute. The single word carried a finality that made Jimin’s hand falter. It dropped back to her side, and she took a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her own indecision.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispered, barely audible over the soft hum of the city behind them.

Y/N’s gaze softened, but her expression remained unreadable. “Yeah,” she said after a long pause, her voice steady but distant. “Me too.”

The silence that followed was deafening. They stood there, inches apart but separated by a chasm neither of them could cross. The memories between them felt alive, pressing down on the air, filling the space with everything they couldn’t say.

Jimin looked at Y/N one last time, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I never meant to hurt you,” she said, her voice breaking.

Y/N’s lips quirked into the faintest, bittersweet smile. “I know,” she replied, her words softer now. “But you did.”

For a moment, Jimin hesitated, as if she might stay, as if she might say something more. But the moment passed, and with visible reluctance, she turned and took a step back.

Her hand hovered on the glass door, her reflection ghosting over the city lights beyond. She paused, casting one last glance over her shoulder, her face shadowed with regret.

Y/N met her gaze evenly, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. There was no anger left in her expression, just a quiet resolve that made Jimin’s chest ache.

Jimin finally slid the door open and stepped back inside, leaving Y/N alone on the balcony.

Y/N didn’t move, even after the door slid shut behind Jimin, leaving her alone on the balcony once more. Her chest felt hollow, her breath shallow as she leaned back against the railing. The chill of the metal seeped through her dress, grounding her even as her emotions churned.

She tilted her head back, letting her gaze drift to the stars scattered across the vast, inky sky. They seemed impossibly far away, distant and untouchable. For a moment, she envied them—their silence, their constancy.

The tears came quietly, slipping down her cheeks unchecked. She didn’t fight them. It wasn’t the kind of grief that demanded sobs or outbursts; it was quieter, more resigned. It wasn’t about what could have been anymore. It was about what never truly was.

There was no collapse, no shattering. Just a slow, aching acceptance of something she had always known deep down: Jimin had been a ghost in her life long before tonight. A flicker of light she had tried to hold onto, even as it slipped through her fingers.

Y/N wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, her lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. It wasn’t a smile born of joy, but of understanding—of the weight finally lifting, even if it left a scar behind.

The city stretched out before her, endless and alive. The buzz of traffic below, the distant glow of streetlights, the muffled hum of voices inside the venue—they were reminders that life continued, indifferent and unstoppable.

She was still here.

She straightened, pulling her shoulders back, the breeze teasing her hair as she turned to glance at the glass door. A part of her wondered if Jimin would come back, but the thought didn’t linger. Y/N no longer needed her to.

The party was beginning to slow, its earlier energy now replaced by a quieter, more reflective buzz. Conversations grew softer, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and bursts of laughter that seemed to echo in the half-empty room.

The golden glow of the chandeliers felt warmer now, casting long shadows across the thinning crowd. The music had shifted too, slower and subdued, as if the night itself was winding down alongside the guests.

Y/N stood near the edge of the room, a fresh glass of champagne cradled in her hand. She hadn’t taken a sip yet, the glass more of a prop than a comfort. Her gaze wandered over the room, though her focus was elsewhere, her thoughts still tethered to the balcony.

Ghost.

The word lingered in her mind, heavy but strangely freeing. She had spent so much time fighting to hold onto pieces of what she and Jimin had shared, clinging to memories as if they could somehow make her whole again. But out on that balcony, as Jimin had walked away, Y/N had finally felt something shift.

It wasn’t closure—not entirely. Closure suggested an ending, clean and final. What she felt was more like an exhale, a slow loosening of the grip she had held on something she no longer needed.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The familiar voice drew her back to the present, and Y/N turned to find Irene standing beside her. The singer’s earlier, crowd-working smile had softened into something quieter, more personal.

“Not worth that much,” Y/N replied, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

Irene chuckled, raising her own glass to her lips. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You’ve had that look all night.”

“What look?”

Irene tilted her head, studying her. “The one that says you’re carrying something too heavy to set down, even though you want to.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, letting out a quiet laugh. “That obvious, huh?”

“To me, maybe,” Irene admitted, her tone gentle. She set her glass down and leaned in slightly. “You don’t have to tell me, but... if it helps, you’re not alone. Everyone’s haunted by something.”

The words hung in the air, simple but resonant, their weight settling over Y/N like a warm blanket. She let the silence stretch between them, her gaze shifting back toward the far side of the room.

There they were—Jimin and Minjeong.

Minjeong was speaking animatedly, her hands gesturing as she laughed at something Jimin had said. Jimin was smiling too, that soft, private smile Y/N had once known so intimately. They looked happy, a picture of comfort and stability that could have made Y/N ache.

But as she watched, Y/N caught something else. Jimin’s fingers tapped lightly against her glass, a nervous habit Y/N recognized all too well. There was a faint crease between her brows when Minjeong wasn’t looking, a flicker of something unspoken in her expression.

She’s carrying it too, Y/N thought.

The realization didn’t bring comfort exactly, but it brought something close to peace. They had both been changed, scarred in their own ways, but Y/N was no longer tethered to that pain.

She exhaled, the breath steady and deliberate, her grip on her glass loosening as she set it down. The weight wasn’t gone entirely, but it was lighter now, easier to bear.

“I think it’s time for me to go,” she said, turning back to Irene.

Irene nodded, her expression soft with understanding. “Sometimes leaving is the bravest thing you can do.”

Y/N smiled faintly, the corners of her lips curving upward with a quiet gratitude. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it carried weight—a silent acknowledgment of the truth in Irene’s words. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, the movement simple yet deliberate, as if shedding the last remnants of hesitation.

The walk toward the exit felt longer than it should have, every step echoing with memories she was letting go. The golden glow of the chandeliers flickered over her, each footfall a quiet rebellion against the weight in her chest. Conversations buzzed faintly around her, their cadence softer now, as if the party itself was winding down.

As she reached the door, her hand brushed against the cool metal of the handle. Something made her glance back—a pull she couldn’t entirely resist.

Across the room, Jimin and Minjeong remained in their own world. Minjeong’s laugh floated through the air, light and uninhibited, and Jimin’s lips quirked into a smile that once had been reserved for Y/N. The pang in Y/N’s chest flared briefly, a sharp reminder of what was and what would never be again. But there was a difference now—an unexpected softness to the ache, like a bruise fading under time’s patient touch.

She turned back to the door, her fingers tightening briefly around the handle before she pushed it open. The night greeted her with a crisp embrace, the chill biting against her skin yet somehow refreshing. It was a stark contrast to the warmth of the venue, a reminder that outside those walls, life stretched on in endless, unpredictable patterns.

The city spread out before her, alive with a thousand stories, none of which she was beholden to. Y/N paused at the edge of the sidewalk, her breath visible in the night air. Tilting her head back, she let the city lights blur into the stars above, her heart settling into a calm rhythm she hadn’t felt in months.

“If you want forever, and I bet you do. Just know you'll taste me too”

“She’ll taste me every time.” The words slipped out softly, carried away by the breeze. They weren’t bitter or triumphant—just an acknowledgment of the truth she had lived.

For a moment, she closed her eyes, feeling the weight of those words settle. They weren’t about holding on anymore. They were about release—a final reminder to herself that she had left her mark and didn’t need to keep proving it.

When she opened her eyes again, the world seemed sharper, more vibrant. The streetlights flickered against the pavement, and the distant hum of traffic reminded her of everything waiting beyond this moment.

With a steady breath, Y/N straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she began walking, each step sure and unwavering. The night stretched ahead, vast and full of potential, and for the first time in a long time, she felt ready to embrace it.

She didn’t need to look back.

She was done looking back.

The memories, the pain, and the lingering echoes of Jimin’s presence—they would always be a part of her, but they no longer defined her. Y/N was more than what she had lost. She was the sum of every moment she had survived, every choice she had made to stand back up.

As the cool night air wrapped around her, Y/N allowed herself a small, private smile. This wasn’t the end of her story—it was a new beginning.

She was ready to reclaim herself.

#karina x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #gg x reader #girl group imagines #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #karina x fem reader #yoo jimin x reader

246 notes · View notes

baelabong · 5 months ago

Text

𝖡𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾

—————————————————————————

Pairing: glp Karina x fem!reader

Note: sequel to twisted devotion

Warning: emotional?! No protection (wrap it up yall) crying rina, asshole y/n, mentions of ningning

Word count: 1.3k

—————————————————————————

“A-anything! I’ll do anything!”, Jimin pleaded with doe eyes staring down into your own

You almost scoff in amusement but instead your smile faltered, loving the way she was so pathetic for you.

Leaning up and just grazing your lips over her ears, your hot breath fanning on her skin making the hairs at the back of her neck rise, you say with a small whisper

“Then fuck me”, with a small smile you pull back with an innocent expression

Nodding her head eagerly like a little kid, she presses herself closer against you as you reach down her boxers grabbing her limp dick. Ss if on cue, her dick hardened under your touch, your eyes widening in amusement.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this monster from me for so long, rina”, she shuts her eyes, suppressing back a moan from your own words

Grabbing her face with your free hand, you harshly grab her chin forcing her to open her eyes and look at you. The sight of Jimin with lidded eyes made you so wet you almost lost your patience and wanted her to fuck you.

But no. Letting out an amused chuckle you whisper a small “pathetic” while giving her that same innocent look in your eyes.

“Fuck me Jimin. Fuck me so hard I can’t walk”

An idea entering your mind you smash your lips against hers, tiptoeing to reach her tall figure, almost making the two of you fall back against the bed.

You pull away breathlessly and say

“Fuck me … like how Ningning fucks me”

In that moment, Karina's eyes darkened, a fierce possessiveness taking over her usually gentle demeanor. The mention of Ningning ignited something primal within her, and her grip on your hips tightened. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered in a low, commanding tone.

"You're mine tonight. Only mine."

With a swift motion, she lifted you up effortlessly, carrying you over to the bed and laying you down gently but with a sense of urgency. Her hands roamed your body, exploring every inch as if she was trying to memorize the feel of your skin. The intensity of her touch sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel the anticipation building within you.

Karina's lips found yours again, this time more fervently, her kiss filled with a mix of desire and determination. Her hands moved with purpose, sliding down your body and pulling away any barriers between you. She took a moment to admire you, her eyes drinking in the sight of you laid bare before her.

"You’re so beautiful," she murmured, her voice husky with need.

She positioned herself above you, her gaze locking with yours. The connection between you felt electric, a current of longing and passion flowing between you. Karina's hand moved to guide herself, her eyes never leaving yours as she entered you slowly, inch by inch, savoring the sensation.

Your back arched, a moan escaping your lips as she filled you completely. The feeling of her inside you, combined with the intensity of her gaze, made you feel more connected than ever. Karina began to move, her thrusts deep and deliberate, each one eliciting a gasp from you.

"Tell me how it feels," she demanded, her voice a mix of authority and tenderness.

"So good," you managed to say between breaths, your hands gripping the sheets as she increased her pace.

Karina's movements became more urgent, driven by both the desire to please you and the need to assert her dominance. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body responding eagerly to her every touch.

"You're mine," she repeated, her voice thick with emotion. "And I'm never letting you go."

The intensity of her words and the relentless pleasure she was giving you pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Karina followed soon after, her own release a powerful testament to the connection you shared.

As you both lay there, breathless and spent, Karina pulled you close, her arms wrapped protectively around you. The fierceness in her eyes had softened, replaced by a tender affection.

"You're mine," she whispered once more, her lips brushing against your forehead. "And I love you."

You smiled, feeling a profound sense of contentment. "I love you too, Jimin."

Karina’s embrace tightened around you, her breathing slowly evening out. But the spark of desire in her eyes hadn’t diminished. She shifted slightly, her lips finding yours in a tender, lingering kiss.

“I need you again,” she whispered against your lips, her voice trembling with emotion. “I need to show you how much I love you.”

You nodded, your own desire reigniting at her words. Karina moved over you once more, her touch gentle yet insistent. She guided herself back inside you, her movements slow and deliberate, savoring every moment. This time, there was a softness in her actions, a vulnerability that made your heart ache with affection.

As Karina thrust into you, tears began to well up in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. The sight of her so emotional, so open, only made you love her more.

“You’re everything to me,” she choked out, her voice breaking. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You reached up, cupping her face in your hands, and kissed her tears away, your lips brushing gently against her damp skin. “I’m not going anywhere, Jimin. I’m right here with you.”

Karina’s pace quickened, the urgency in her movements matched by the raw emotion in her eyes. Each thrust was a declaration of her love, a promise of her devotion. You could feel her trembling, her tears mixing with the sweat on her skin.

“Stay with me,” she pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion. “Please, just stay with me.”

“I will,” you assured her, your hands sliding down her back, holding her close. “I’ll always be with you.”

Karina’s tears continued to fall, her sobs mingling with the sounds of your lovemaking. The intensity of her emotions fueled her movements, driving her to bring you both to the edge once more. As you felt yourself nearing climax, you held her tighter, wanting to give her everything you had.

With a final, shuddering thrust, Karina pushed you both over the edge. Your orgasms hit simultaneously, a powerful wave of pleasure and emotion crashing over you. She collapsed onto you, her body wracked with sobs, and you held her close, whispering soothing words in her ear.

“It’s okay, Jimin,” you murmured, kissing her tear-streaked face. “I’m here. I love you.”

Karina’s sobs slowly subsided, her breathing evening out as she clung to you. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “More than anything.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for the woman in your arms. “We’re in this together, Jimin. Always.”

As you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that no matter what challenges you faced, your love for each other would always see you through. And in that moment, with Karina’s tears still fresh on your lips, you felt an unbreakable bond between you.

#fem reader #aespa karina #karina x reader #karina #aespa kpop #aespa #aespa x reader #aespa icons #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin #jimin #kpop #reader insert #kpop girls

366 notes · View notes

forlix · 1 year ago

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

words・11.1k

pairing・idol!hyunjin x female stylist!reader (inspired by this)

genres・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative

warnings・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack, alcohol is consumed, lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication, complex people feeling complex emotions, smut warnings under the cut

playlist・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

a/n・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

smut warnings・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?”

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,” he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path.

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.”

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there.

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.”

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour.

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, beautiful.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

“Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?”

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall.

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze.

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter.

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds.

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session.

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete.

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin��s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person.

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe.

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels.

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you.

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand.

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system.

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod.

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of spit suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?”

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane.

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe

2K notes · View notes