Cents

certified jnk worshipper

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@GOTTENCENTS

⋮ Cents ( @gottencents) ᵎᵎ u ain’t making no noise     she/her  ⓘ masc lesbian  viewondarkmode 𖦹 BRメKE BメYS.ᐟ  𔓘𔓘.  jennie, mts, sabrina, ariana , beyonce  ♫♫     carrd,  mlist, wips    ✌︎㋡    bndriesᵎ  I. tinashe──── aquarius.ྀི 𐔌 anime & sims4 nerd༘⋆

• It’s no surprise to me , I am my own worst enemy lit

ཐི༏ཋྀ     .     Currently playing : 

when did you get hot ? - loser!jenniekim

gottencents       wealldiein2020

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[gottencents]

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can you rinse my eyes

i’ll do anything for u twin but we gotta mute sum words first to not see !ageplay on ur feed 😭

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Bestieeee

FRENNNN 😭😭😭

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29 Pearls In Your Kiss - Jennie Kim

pairing. spiderman!jenniekim x populargirl!reader

synopsis. quiet college student jennie kim leads a double life as spider-man, the only time she can truly connect with her untouchable crush, y/n. between nightly walks, subtle rescues, and stolen kisses in y/n’s penthouse, their slow-burning attraction ignites into a passionate and undeniable bond.

main masterlist. blackpink masterlist. navigation.

Jennie Kim was used to being invisible.

She didn’t mind it, not really. In the classroom, invisibility was safety no professors singling her out, no curious classmates prying into her life, no whispers of judgment when her answers weren’t perfect. In the cafeteria, invisibility meant nobody noticed her sitting alone, earbuds tucked in, half-listening to the buzzing social lives she didn’t belong to. Jennie had built her life on the edges, existing quietly in the background. But at night, everything changed.

The city opened itself to her in a way the world never had before. From the top of a skyscraper, New York wasn’t just noise and chaos it was breathtaking. Neon lights, traffic glows, windows that looked like stars scattered across steel towers. Jennie swung between them with nothing but a web and a heartbeat, laughter spilling from her chest even when her ribs ached, even when her knuckles were raw.

The mask turned her into someone else. Someone loud. Brave. Daring. Someone unforgettable. And in that mask, people looked at her. They saw her. Even if they didn’t know her name, they knew what she stood for.

But even Spider-Man had secrets ones Jennie clutched tight against her ribs like a wound. The biggest one? Y/N.

Y/N, with her glittering smile and sharp eyes, who always seemed untouchable. The kind of girl everyone wanted a piece of, yet nobody could keep. Jennie remembered watching her at freshman orientation, standing at the center of the room like gravity bent around her. By sophomore year, she was a campus legend Miss Popular, queen of the cheer squad, the girl professors remembered, the girl classmates adored, the girl who collected admirers like petals trailing behind her.

And Jennie? Jennie was just another nameless face in the crowd. The kind of girl Y/N probably didn’t even see. Jennie told herself she was fine with that. Crushes happened. They fizzled out. You moved on.

Except she didn’t.

Every time Y/N’s laugh echoed down a hallway, Jennie’s chest tightened. Every time Jennie spotted her across campus hair shining in the sun, uniform hugging her figure, that commanding stride that dared the world to keep up Jennie’s pulse stuttered. And when Y/N’s gaze accidentally brushed over her once or twice, Jennie found herself looking away too fast, as if stolen glances could burn. So Jennie buried it. She buried it deep. Because Jennie Kim, invisible and awkward, would never have a place in Y/N’s spotlight.

But Spider-Man? Spider-Man did.And maybe that was why Jennie broke her own rules. She wasn’t supposed to get personal as Spider-Man. No favorites, no attachments. Swing in, save the day, vanish before anyone asked too many questions. That was the deal.

Except… she found herself waiting for Y/N. Every night, after cheer practice ended, Jennie perched on the rooftop across from the gym, heart hammering as she watched for that familiar figure to step outside. She timed her swing perfectly descending just as Y/N reached the crosswalk, like coincidence, like fate. And every night, she offered to walk her home.

It wasn’t in the job description. But Jennie made an exception. Because for Y/N, she couldn’t help herself. And somewhere, deep down where Jennie didn’t dare touch the thought, she wondered if Y/N already suspected who was behind the mask.

The first time Jennie offered to walk Y/N home, it had been on impulse. She hadn’t planned it. She was supposed to be swinging downtown, checking the usual alleys for trouble. But then she saw Y/N leaving the gym in her cheer uniform, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, earbuds in. Alone.

Something about the way the streetlamps hit her casting golden shadows across her hair, lighting up the sharp set of her jaw pulled at Jennie’s chest.

She’d swung down before she could stop herself.

“Evening,” Spider-Man said, trying for casual, though her heart thudded like a drum.

Y/N blinked, tugging her earbuds free. “Oh. Uh hi?”

Jennie scratched the back of her masked head, realizing how awkward this was. “Just, you know… patrol. Making sure the streets are safe. New York and all that.”

Y/N tilted her head, clearly amused. “And the safest place in New York tonight just happens to be… my walk home?”

Jennie froze. “…Yes?” A laugh burst out of Y/N then bright and surprised and Jennie swore it echoed in her chest longer than it should have.

“Fine,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “You can tag along. Just don’t expect me to be entertaining. I’m exhausted.” Jennie followed, her steps unusually human instead of bounding across rooftops. For once, she wasn’t Spider-Man the spectacle. She was Spider-Man the… companion.

And it didn’t stop after that night. It became routine. Every evening after practice, Y/N would glance up as though expecting her. And Jennie without fail would swing down with a half-grin hidden under the mask.

“Back again?” Y/N teased one night, her gym bag bouncing against her hip.

“What can I say? You’re my favorite patrol route,” Jennie shot back, her voice steadier this time.

“Lucky me,” Y/N replied, smirking as she adjusted her ponytail. “New York’s friendliest stalker.”

Jennie stumbled a step. “Stalker?! Excuse me, I prefer the term ‘dedicated bodyguard.’”

“Dedicated, huh?” Y/N’s eyes sparkled. “And how much are you charging me for this service, Spider-Man?”

Jennie grinned under the mask. “One smile per block. Non-negotiable.”

Y/N laughed louder this time, genuine. “You’re ridiculous.” And Jennie thought, If I could bottle that laugh, I’d never need sleep again.

But the more walks they shared, the less ridiculous it felt.

Some nights, Y/N talked endlessly about cheer drama, about annoying professors, about her parents’ latest business trip overseas. Jennie listened, adding little jokes here and there, soaking in every detail Y/N revealed.

Other nights, they walked in comfortable silence, the sound of the city filling the gaps between them. Jennie found herself memorizing the curve of Y/N’s profile in streetlight, the way her expression softened when she thought nobody was looking. And then there were the nights when Y/N surprised her.

Like the time she glanced at Jennie and asked softly, “Doesn’t it ever get lonely? Doing what you do?” Jennie faltered, nearly missing a step. Nobody asked Spider-Man that. People asked for selfies, or for her to move out of the way. Nobody asked about her feelings.

“I guess,” Jennie admitted finally, her voice low. “But… then I get nights like this. And it doesn’t feel so bad.” Y/N looked at her for a long moment, her smirk fading into something gentler. Something Jennie wasn’t ready for.

“You’re weird, Spider-Man,” Y/N murmured, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. But her voice was warm, and her shoulders brushed Jennie’s just slightly as they walked the rest of the way.

Jennie pretended she didn’t notice. By the third week, it wasn’t even a question anymore. Every night, Jennie walked her home. Every night, Y/N let her. And every night, Jennie felt herself falling deeper into something she couldn’t possibly have. it started small. Barely noticeable. At least, Jennie hoped it was. One night, Y/N’s duffle bag slipped off her shoulder as she crossed the street, the strap tangling around her ankle just as a taxi blared its horn.

Jennie reacted before she thought web shooting out, pulling Y/N back onto the curb a half second before the bumper could’ve grazed her.

“Careful,” Jennie said, trying to sound cool even as her pulse thundered.

Y/N’s chest heaved, eyes wide. She grabbed Jennie’s forearm through the suit, grounding herself.“You ” Her voice broke for a second, then steadied. “You saved me.”

Jennie forced a shrug. “Part of the job.”

But Y/N didn’t let go right away. Her hand lingered on Jennie’s arm, her gaze narrowing like she was searching for something under the mask. “You always show up right when I need you.”

Jennie felt heat crawl up her neck beneath the mask. “Lucky timing.”

“Mm.” Y/N’s lips quirked. “Or maybe you’re watching me.”

Jennie’s stomach dropped. She can’t know. She can’t.

“…Maybe I just like the view,” Jennie blurted before she could stop herself. Silence. Then Y/N laughed light, surprised, almost disbelieving. She shook her head and finally let go of Jennie’s arm. “You’re trouble.”

Jennie told herself she should’ve kept her mouth shut. But the way Y/N’s smile lingered all the way to her building made it worth it. After that, the “close calls” stacked up.

A skateboarder barreled down the sidewalk too fast Jennie snagged the board mid-air before it could clip Y/N’s knees. A drunk guy staggered too close outside a bodega Jennie’s web tugged his sleeve just enough to send him stumbling the other way.

A falling flower pot from a third-story balcony nearly smashed against the pavement Jennie caught it inches above Y/N’s head, placing it carefully down before she even noticed. Y/N wasn’t oblivious. By the fourth or fifth time, she crossed her arms and fixed Jennie with that knowing stare. “Do you… have a tracking device on me or something? Because this is getting suspicious.”

Jennie raised her hands, palms out. “Hey, don’t flatter yourself. I save lots of people from… uh… runaway skateboards.”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N arched a brow. “Funny how those lots of people just happen to be me.”

Jennie scrambled for a comeback, panic clawing at her ribs. “Maybe New York just… really hates you.”

Y/N snorted, bumping her shoulder against Jennie’s. “Or maybe you really like me.” Jennie nearly tripped over her own feet.

Y/N smirked, clearly entertained by her reaction. “Relax. I’m kidding.” Jennie laughed weakly, praying her mask hid the flush crawling up her face. Still, the suspicion didn’t fade.

Sometimes, when Jennie swung down from a lamppost or appeared around a corner, Y/N’s eyes would flicker with something sharp. Not fear never fear. Just curiosity. Like she was putting puzzle pieces together. Like she was close to figuring out what Jennie didn’t want anyone to know.

And yet, every time Y/N could’ve pressed, she didn’t. She’d just slip back into her usual teasing, letting Jennie breathe for now. But Jennie couldn’t shake the thought: What if she already knows? And what if she doesn’t care? it happened on a Friday night.

Jennie had done the usual swing down just as Y/N stepped out of the gym, exchange a few playful jabs about who was protecting who, and walk her along the familiar route to her building. But when they reached the marble entrance of the penthouse tower, Y/N didn’t stop like she always did.

Instead, she turned, arms crossed, her expression unreadable under the warm halo of the streetlamp.

“You know,” she started, her voice softer than usual, “you don’t have to keep ditching me at the door.”

Jennie tilted her head, trying to play dumb. “Well, that’s kind of the point. You’re safe once you’re here.”

Y/N stepped closer, her smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “My parents are gone for a week. Tokyo. Business trip.” Her gaze flicked over Jennie sharp, assessing. “You don’t have to… rush off, Spider-Man. You could… come up.”

Jennie’s throat went dry. “Up?”

“To the penthouse.” Y/N’s tone was casual, but there was a glimmer in her eyes something more dangerous than casual. “Unless you’re scared of heights.”

Jennie almost laughed at the irony. Scared of heights? She’d swung across half the city that night alone. But this this was different. This was scarier. Still, she nodded. “Lead the way.” The elevator ride was torture. Jennie stood rigid in the corner, hands stuffed into the suit’s gloves, while Y/N leaned back against the railing, watching her with that same mischievous glint.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Y/N teased, breaking the silence. Jennie cleared her throat. “Maybe I don’t have any jokes left.”

“Impossible.” Y/N grinned. “You never shut up when you’re walking me home.” Jennie couldn’t argue with that. She stayed silent, willing the elevator to speed up. Finally, the doors slid open, revealing the penthouse. It was huge.

Floor-to-ceiling glass windows framed the skyline, glittering towers stretching as far as the eye could see. Sleek white furniture, polished marble floors, artwork Jennie was sure cost more than her entire apartment building.

But Jennie barely registered any of it, because Y/N had already kicked off her sneakers and flopped onto a sprawling king-sized bed in the middle of the open room, limbs sprawled carelessly, like she was inviting Jennie to follow. Jennie lingered awkwardly by the window, tugging at her gloves. “This is… nice.”

“Nice?” Y/N scoffed, propping herself up on her elbows. “That’s all you’ve got? My parents spend millions decorating this place and Spider-Man calls it ‘nice.’”

Jennie shrugged. “Guess I’m not easy to impress.”Y/N’s smile softened, just a little. “Good.” For a while, they just… talked. About the city. About Y/N’s future her dreams of either running her parents’ company or ditching it all to carve her own path. About Jennie’s “plans” as Spider-Man, which Y/N pried at like she wanted to peek under the mask.

“Do you ever think about life after college?” Y/N asked, lying on her side, her head resting on her hand. Jennie hesitated. Nobody asked her that. Nobody cared about the girl behind the mask, the one with overdue assignments and cheap instant ramen dinners.

“…I guess I never thought I’d get that far,” Jennie admitted quietly. Y/N’s expression softened in a way Jennie hadn’t seen before less sharp, less teasing. Gentle. “That’s sad.” Jennie shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just busy thinking about the present.”

“Fair enough.” Y/N’s eyes lingered on her a moment longer than they should have. Then she rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “Still. You should think about it. I bet your future’s brighter than you realize.”

Jennie wanted to believe that. But all she could think about was how dangerously close they were sitting. How much easier it would be to lean forward. How badly she wanted to. And how wrong it would be to want it this much. She never expected what happened next. Because one second, they were talking about future plans, and the next Y/N was tugging at the edge of her mask, pulling it up just far enough.

“Wait, what are you ” Jennie stammered, her breath catching.

“Relax,” Y/N murmured, her smirk returning as she leaned closer. “Just curious.” And before Jennie could stop it, Y/N kissed her.

Y/N’s lips were softer than Jennie had imagined in all her secret daydreams warm, insistent, tasting faintly of cherry lip balm. Jennie froze for half a heartbeat, every nerve in her body sparking at once. She wasn’t Spider-Man now, not really. She wasn’t Jennie Kim either. She was just… herself. Mask slipping up, walls slipping down, Y/N’s mouth pressed against hers.

By the time Jennie remembered to breathe, Y/N had already shifted closer, cupping her cheek through the mask, deepening the kiss like she’d been waiting for this moment far longer than Jennie had dared to believe. Jennie’s hands hovered uselessly in the air, trembling. She wanted God, she wanted but fear pinned her in place.

Y/N felt it. She pulled back just enough to whisper, lips brushing Jennie’s, “Relax. You’re allowed.” And that broke Jennie open.

She kissed back, hesitant at first, then hungrier, matching Y/N’s rhythm. Her gloved hands found Y/N’s waist, gripping lightly, almost reverently. “There you go,” Y/N murmured against her mouth, smiling into the kiss.

Minutes blurred. Kisses stacked, slow at first, then faster, rougher, until Jennie found herself lying back on Y/N’s bed, Y/N climbing over her, pinning her gently against the silk sheets. Every nerve in Jennie’s body burned.

Y/N’s mouth left hers only to trail lower along her jaw, her neck soft kisses that grew sharper, teeth grazing skin. Jennie gasped when she felt the first sting, followed by the heat of Y/N’s mouth sealing over it. “You ah ” Jennie stuttered, her voice breaking.

“Shh.” Y/N smirked against her skin, kissing harder, leaving a mark just below Jennie’s ear. “You’ll thank me later.”

Jennie shivered, realizing exactly what Y/N was doing: leaving evidence. Love bites. Hickeys. Proof Jennie couldn’t hide. Her mask suddenly felt stifling, heat pooling everywhere Y/N touched.

Then Y/N’s hand slid up over Jennie’s chest, to her neck. Her fingers curled gently, squeezing not enough to hurt, just enough to make Jennie’s breath hitch. Jennie’s eyes fluttered shut. She’d never felt anything like it: the thrill of being trapped and cherished all at once.

“You’re shaking,” Y/N whispered, her voice velvet-soft but edged with fire. Jennie swallowed hard. “I I don’t…”

“You don’t have to ask,” Y/N cut in, pressing another kiss to her lips. “I’m giving you permission. Touch me, Jennie.” Jennie’s heart stopped. Her name. On Y/N’s lips. She didn’t question how Y/N knew she couldn’t. She just obeyed.

Her hands, clumsy at first, slid under the hem of Y/N’s shirt, fingertips grazing warm skin. Y/N gasped softly, arching into the touch. “That’s it,” Y/N encouraged, threading her fingers into Jennie’s hair. “Don’t be scared of me.” Jennie wasn’t scared. She was drowning. The rest unraveled in a blur of heat and desperation.

Y/N kissed her again, harder this time, her hands roaming everywhere: along Jennie’s chest, down her arms, over the suit’s seams. Every inch she could touch, she claimed. Jennie responded with nervous, tentative caresses, emboldened only when Y/N sighed or whispered her name in approval.Their mouths crashed and parted and found each other again, over and over, until Jennie’s lips tingled and her throat ached from swallowing gasps.

By the time they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, foreheads pressed together, lips swollen, hearts racing like they’d run across the whole city. Jennie’s mask was pushed halfway up, hair sticking out messily, her neck littered with fresh marks. Y/N looked devastating and smug, a glint in her eyes as she brushed her thumb along Jennie’s jaw.

“You’re mine now,” she murmured, before stealing one last, lingering kiss. Silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint hum of the city through the penthouse windows.

Jennie lay back against the pillows, chest rising and falling as she tried to steady her breath. Her mask was still crooked on her face, pushed up just high enough to expose flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. Her hair was a mess from Y/N’s fingers, strands sticking out every which way.

Y/N, meanwhile, looked utterly unbothered. She lounged at Jennie’s side, one arm draped lazily across her stomach, the other propping her head up as she stared down with a smile that was equal parts satisfied and dangerous. Jennie groaned softly, covering her face with a gloved hand. “That… wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Funny,” Y/N murmured, tracing idle shapes along the seam of Jennie’s suit, “because it sure felt like it was.”

Jennie peeked at her between her fingers. “You kissed me.”

“And you kissed me back.” Y/N’s smirk widened. “A lot.” Heat crept up Jennie’s neck again. She turned her face away, but Y/N caught her chin, tugging her gently back until their eyes met.

“Hey,” Y/N said, softer now. “Don’t hide. Not from me.” Jennie’s breath caught. The weight of it the way Y/N said it like a promise lodged itself deep in her chest. They lay like that for a while.

Jennie staring at the ceiling, Y/N’s fingers tracing light circles along her arm. The air was warm, still tinged with the sharp sweetness of adrenaline.

Finally, Jennie whispered, “You shouldn’t… want this. Me. It’s dangerous.”

Y/N shifted closer, pressing her forehead against Jennie’s temple. “Dangerous is half the fun.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Y/N lifted her head, her gaze fierce now. “I don’t care what mask you wear or what risks you take. You show up for me. Every night. You protect me when you think I don’t notice. And tonight, you didn’t run when I asked you to stay.”

Jennie swallowed hard. “Y/N…”

“You’re mine, Spider-Man,” Y/N whispered, brushing a kiss against the corner of her mouth. “Jennie. Whoever you are. You’re mine.”

Jennie’s chest tightened fear, exhilaration, something she couldn’t name. All she could do was nod, because words felt too small. And then, because Y/N never let a moment linger too long in seriousness, she tilted her head and smirked.

“So,” she teased, fingers trailing deliberately back to Jennie’s neck, squeezing just enough to make Jennie’s breath stutter again, “round two?”

Jennie let out a strangled laugh. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” Y/N pressed another kiss just below Jennie’s jaw, over one of the fresh marks she’d left. “But you like it.” Jennie bit her lip, trying not to let the shiver give her away. And Y/N, as always, noticed everything.

Jennie’s lungs still hadn’t recovered from the first kiss when Y/N leaned back on her elbows, smirking down at her like she had the whole city in her palm.

“You’re trembling again,” Y/N murmured, her thumb brushing the edge of Jennie’s jaw.

Jennie swallowed, heat prickling across her face under the mask. “That’s because you’re… terrifying.”

Y/N tilted her head, pressing a teasing kiss just beneath Jennie’s ear. “Terrifying… or tempting?”

Jennie shivered. “Both.”

“Good,” Y/N whispered, lips curving against her skin.

Jennie’s first instinct was to pull away, to tug the mask down and retreat to safety. But Y/N’s hand slid up, fingers wrapping gently around her wrist before she could move.

“Don’t,” Y/N said softly, gaze sharp enough to pin Jennie in place.

“I can’t ” Jennie’s voice cracked, panic bubbling up.

“You can.” Y/N leaned closer, lips ghosting over hers. “Because I already know.”

Jennie’s chest seized. “…What?”

“Jennie Kim,” Y/N whispered, the name rolling off her tongue like a secret she’d been holding onto for months.

Jennie’s heart stopped.

“I’ve known,” Y/N continued, watching every flicker of her reaction. “The way you laugh under the mask. The way you get quiet when you’re nervous. Spider-Man or not you don’t stop being you.”

Jennie’s throat tightened, shame and fear clawing at her ribs. “Then… why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I was waiting,” Y/N said simply. “For you to trust me. For you to stop hiding.”

Her voice softened, hand sliding from Jennie’s wrist to her cheek. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. Not with me.”

Something broke loose in Jennie then something heavy she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying.

With shaky hands, she tugged the mask up and off, tossing it aside. Her hair tumbled free, face flushed and bare, vulnerable under Y/N’s steady gaze.

Y/N smiled, slow and devastating. “There you are.”

Jennie barely had time to breathe before Y/N kissed her again deeper, hungrier, her hands threading through Jennie’s hair as if she’d been starving for this.

Jennie gasped, her body arching instinctively. Her hands hesitated, trembling at Y/N’s waist.

“Touch me,” Y/N murmured between kisses, guiding Jennie’s palms under her shirt. “Don’t hold back.”

Jennie obeyed, fingers brushing tentative paths along warm skin. Y/N rewarded her with a soft moan, arching into her touch, urging her closer.

The kisses grew rougher.

Y/N’s mouth trailed down her neck, sucking hard until Jennie whimpered. Heat bloomed beneath every mark, sharp stings melting into throbbing warmth.

“You’ll remember these tomorrow,” Y/N whispered against her skin, satisfied. 

“Everyone will know you’re mine.”

Jennie’s pulse raced as Y/N’s hand slid back to her throat, squeezing lightly just enough to make her breath hitch, her body trembling in response.

“Y/N…” Jennie’s voice was a broken plea.

“You like it,” Y/N teased, pressing another kiss to her jaw. “Don’t bother denying it.”

Jennie couldn’t. She was too lost too undone.

Her nervous hands grew bolder under Y/N’s encouragement, roaming up her sides, across her back, pulling her closer until their bodies fit together perfectly.

Y/N kissed her harder, everywhere she could reach her lips, her neck, her collarbone while her fingers traced hungry lines down Jennie’s arms, her waist, the curve of her hips.

Everywhere Jennie touched, Y/N pressed back twice as hard, as though she couldn’t get close enough. when their lips finally met again, messy and desperate, Jennie realized there was no line between Spider-Man and Jennie Kim anymore. No double life. No hiding.

There was only this , Y/N’s hands, Y/N’s mouth, Y/N’s claim. And Jennie giving herself over to it, piece by trembling piece.

Jennie woke to the soft light spilling through the penthouse windows, painting Y/N’s face in golden hues. Her head was still resting against Y/N’s shoulder, hair tangled, mask long forgotten on the floor. The memory of the night before made her chest tighten her heart still raced, her skin tingled where Y/N’s lips had left marks.

She sat up abruptly, panic flashing. “Oh no Y/N’s going to ugh, the marks!”

“Relax,” Y/N murmured, her fingers threading into Jennie’s hair as she tilted her head to look up at her. “They don’t matter. They’re… proof.”

Jennie froze, cheeks burning, hands hovering over the faint hickeys still visible on her neck. “Proof of what?”

Y/N smirked, brushing her thumb lightly across Jennie’s jaw. “Proof that you’re mine. And that I like claiming you.”

Jennie’s heart stuttered. “Y/N ”

“Shh,” Y/N whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Jennie’s temple. Her hands wandered over Jennie’s back, tracing gentle circles, over shoulders and down to her sides. “You don’t need to talk. Just… be here.”

Jennie let herself relax a fraction, leaning into the caresses. Her hands, nervous at first, tentatively grazed Y/N’s waist and shoulders. Y/N caught her hands, threading them together and pressing them to her chest.

“That’s it,” Y/N whispered. “Touch me anywhere you want. I won’t stop you.”

Jennie’s nervous fingers traced along Y/N’s ribs, over her collarbone, lingering where Y/N encouraged her. Each touch earned a soft sigh or a playful nibble from Y/N, who left faint love bites on Jennie’s neck when she leaned down to kiss her again. Jennie shivered, breath hitching.

“You’re… incredible,” Jennie murmured, trembling, unsure if she meant it physically, emotionally, or both.

Y/N smiled, squeezing her gently around the neck again not rough, just claiming. “You think so? You have no idea how perfect you feel to me.”

Minutes passed in soft touches and whispered words, a slow rhythm of intimacy that had nothing to do with the mask, nothing to do with Spider-Man. Just Jennie. Just Y/N.

And Jennie, for the first time, allowed herself to believe. She didn’t have to hide. She didn’t have to be invisible. Because Y/N wanted her exactly as she was.

[gottencents]

PARTITION - Jennie Kim

pairing. idol!jennie x bpmember!reader

synopsis. After a night of undeniable chemistry in Ibiza, Jennie finally stops denying her feelings for Y/N, leading to a slow-burning, intimate night at her villa where confessions, lingering touches, and unspoken promises blur the line between friends and something much more.

main masterlist. blackpink masterlist. navigation.

The club was the kind of chaotic that only Ibiza could pull off  a haze of flashing lights, rolling basslines that rattled your ribs, and bodies moving in a way that blurred where one person ended and another began. The smell of saltwater still clung to the night air, sneaking in through the side doors every time they swung open.

Y/N leaned against the rail of the elevated DJ booth, taking in the crowd below. People were losing their minds to the beat, phones raised, drinks spilling over plastic cups. Beside them, Jennie was swaying slightly to the music, her hair catching in the glow of the LED lights above. She wasn’t paying much attention to the chaos  she was looking at Y/N.

They’d been here almost an hour, but Jennie hadn’t left Y/N’s side once. Every so often, she’d drift closer under the excuse of the loud music, her hand brushing against Y/N’s arm or resting for a moment at their lower back as if it belonged there.

“You’re drinking too slow,” Jennie said, leaning so close her lips were practically against Y/N’s ear. The words came out smooth but teasing, her tone threaded with a playfulness that didn’t quite mask the softness in her gaze.

Y/N smirked. “Some of us like to actually taste our drinks.”

Jennie tilted her head, feigning disapproval. “That’s boring,” she said flatly  though the curl of her mouth betrayed her amusement. Then she caught Y/N’s wrist and tugged them down toward the side counter behind the booth. “Come on. I’ll fix that.”

Before Y/N could protest, Jennie ducked down behind the DJ booth, dragging them with her. The world above blurred into muffled bass and flashes of light as they crouched together in the narrow space.

Down here, it was darker, the only glow coming from a strip of LEDs along the equipment case. The space was tight  unavoidably so  and when Jennie reached past them for a bottle, her shoulder brushed against Y/N’s chest. Neither of them moved away.

Jennie poured two shots with casual precision, her rings catching the dim light. She handed one to Y/N but didn’t let go of it right away.

“No, nolike this,” she said softly, her free hand coming up to the back of Y/N’s neck. Her fingers were warm, deliberate, and they guided Y/N’s head back just slightly. She tilted their chin with a care that made it feel less like a drinking game and more like something intimate.

“Is this your new bartending technique?” Y/N asked, smirking despite the way her touch had frozen them in place.

Jennie’s eyes didn’t waver from theirs. “It’s my way of making sure you finish it.” She pressed the rim of the glass to Y/N’s lips, her thumb brushing along their jaw as she watched them tip the drink back. Her gaze lingered long after the glass was empty.

And then Y/N noticed  Jennie had shifted without realizing it. She was practically in Y/N’s lap now, her thigh pressed firmly against theirs. Neither of them moved.

“You’ve been glued to me all night,” Y/N teased, voice low.

Jennie’s mouth curved. “And you’re complaining?” she asked, though there was an edge of sincerity hidden under the playful tone  like she was daring them to say they didn’t want her there.

Before Y/N could respond, someone shouted from above, calling Jennie’s name. She sighed, breaking eye contact, but instead of pulling away, she reached for Y/N’s hands, placed them deliberately on her waist, and gave a small nod.

“They belong here,” she said simply.

Back up in the booth, the world hit them full-force again  neon lights pulsing in time with the bass, sweat-slicked bodies in the crowd, the smell of perfume, alcohol, and warm summer air seeping through the side entrances.

Jennie stayed close. Too close, really. Every time Y/N shifted even an inch away to grab their drink or wave at someone, Jennie closed the gap again without thinking. It wasn’t aggressive  it was natural, instinctual.

At first, Y/N chalked it up to the noise and the press of people, but the longer it went on, the more they realized this was deliberate. Jennie’s hand found the back of their arm when she leaned in to say something. Her fingers brushed their side whenever she moved to the beat. She even hooked her pinky into their belt loop once, keeping them from stepping too far forward.

“You okay?” Y/N asked during a brief lull, leaning down so she could hear.

Jennie’s eyes flicked up to meet theirs, her lips parting like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. Then she smiled  not the practiced stage smile, but something smaller, softer, as if she wasn’t even aware she was doing it.

“Fine,” Jennie said, the word almost drowned out by the bass. “Why?”

“You keep…” Y/N trailed off, giving a half-smile. “Touching me.”

Jennie rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her with a tiny upward twitch. “Maybe you just notice it more tonight.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Maybe you’re doing it more tonight.”

Jennie didn’t answer  instead, she took another sip of her drink, her gaze sliding away. But her hand, almost unconsciously, drifted to Y/N’s waist again, resting there like it belonged.

Minutes later, the DJ switched tracks, the lights dropping into a low, warm amber glow. It was enough to make everything feel just a little more intimate, like the crowd had faded into the background.

Jennie moved closer again, her head tilting slightly toward Y/N. Her perfume  something floral with a clean, sharp edge  mixed with the faint scent of tequila still on her breath.

“I was thinking…” she began, then paused, biting her lip. She didn’t break eye contact, and for a heartbeat, Y/N thought she might actually close the space between them.

“Thinking what?” Y/N asked, their voice lower now.

Jennie didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze flicked down to Y/N’s mouth, then back up, almost like she was gauging something. The beat of the music thumped in the background, but it was nothing compared to the sound of Y/N’s pulse in their ears.

And then

“Jennie! Come here!” one of their mutual friends shouted from across the booth, waving for a picture.

Jennie froze, her lips parting just slightly in frustration, before giving a small sigh and stepping back  but not without sliding her hand into Y/N’s, squeezing once before letting go.

They took the picture, laughed for a few seconds, but as soon as Jennie was free again, she was right back at Y/N’s side. If her fingers weren’t wrapped loosely around Y/N’s wrist, they were resting lightly at the curve of their hip.

At one point, Y/N reached for a bottle of water, and when their hand slipped away from her entirely, Jennie glanced down, frowned, and without a word, caught it and guided it back to her waist.

“You’re acting like I’m gonna get lost in here,” Y/N teased.

Jennie leaned in, her voice barely audible over the music. “You might.” Her tone was light, but the look in her eyes wasn’t.

It was the kind of look that felt dangerous  soft, warm, and like it held a thousand things she wasn’t saying.

For the rest of the set, it was a dance of interruptions  Jennie leaning in just close enough that Y/N swore she was going to kiss them, only for a camera flash or a shout from the crowd to pull them apart again. Each time, Jennie looked away like nothing had happened, but her fingers never left Y/N’s body for more than a few seconds.

The DJ’s set shifted gears, each track melting into the next until the crowd was moving like one giant wave beneath them. Y/N could feel the floor of the booth vibrating under their feet, the air thick with heat and sound.

Jennie stayed tethered to them the entire time. Sometimes her hand was at the small of Y/N’s back, other times resting on their thigh when they sat on the booth’s cushioned bench to sip a drink. And when she wasn’t touching them directly, she was leaning close enough that their shoulders brushed with every bass drop.

At one point, Jennie bent to say something in their ear. The warmth of her breath cut through the chill of the air conditioning vent above, sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

“Look at them,” Jennie murmured, nodding toward the crowd. “Everyone’s losing their minds.”

Y/N glanced out at the sea of raised hands and dancing bodies, but they barely registered it  Jennie was still so close that if either of them moved even slightly, their lips would brush.

“Think you’re having more fun up here than they are,” Y/N said, smirking.

Jennie’s answering smile was slow and almost… knowing. “Maybe I am.”

Before Y/N could push that line of conversation further, the beat switched to a track that made the entire room roar. Jennie laughed and grabbed Y/N’s wrist, pulling them toward the front edge of the booth. She was moving to the rhythm without a second thought, hips swaying, head tipping back as she sang along to a few lyrics.

It would have been harmless  normal, even  if she didn’t keep brushing against Y/N every other second. Her arm slid across their shoulders at one point, fingers curling into the fabric of their shirt.

When a server ducked into the booth with another round of shots, Jennie lit up like someone had handed her a gift.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing Y/N’s hand again.

They crouched down together behind the DJ table to line up the glasses on a small counter. Jennie handed one over but kept hold of the other glass.

“Wait,” she said, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness. “Tilt your head back.”

Y/N gave her a questioning look. “Why?”

Jennie grinned, stepping closer until her hand cupped the side of Y/N’s neck. “Just do it.”

Y/N let out a small laugh but obeyed, tilting their chin up. Jennie’s thumb brushed over their jaw as she held the rim of the shot glass to their lips, coaxing them to drink.

The moment was absurdly intimate  the press of her fingers at the base of their neck, the concentration in her gaze as if nothing else in the club existed. And when Y/N swallowed, Jennie’s lips curved into that same small, private smile before she downed her own shot.

They stood there for a second too long afterward, faces still close, but a sharp cheer from the crowd snapped them out of it. Jennie stepped back, though not far enough to lose contact entirely.

As the set carried on, the heat between them only seemed to grow. Y/N caught Jennie looking at them more than once  not a casual glance, but a lingering, open stare that made Y/N’s pulse trip. Her eyes had that soft, dangerous shine again, the kind that told Y/N she was thinking about things she wasn’t going to say out loud.

Twice, maybe three times, Jennie started to lean in like she might finally give in and kiss them. Each time, the universe seemed to conspire against them  a friend popping into the booth, the DJ pulling Jennie in for a quick photo, a sudden request for her to wave to the crowd.

But between every interruption, her hand kept finding its way back  to Y/N’s waist, to the inside of their elbow, or resting lightly on their hip like an unspoken promise.

By the time the last track began to fade and the DJ started thanking the crowd, Jennie still hadn’t let go.

When they stepped down from the booth into the dim, quieter hallway behind it, Y/N realized her fingers were still hooked into their belt loop.

“Don’t want to lose me?” Y/N teased.

Jennie didn’t smile this time. She just held their gaze for a beat too long before murmuring, “No. I don’t.”

The second the partition slid up and sealed them off from the driver, Jennie’s whole demeanor shifted. The easy party smile she’d been wearing all night melted into something heavier, hungrier  the kind of look that made Y/N’s chest tighten and their throat dry.

Jennie didn’t rush. She turned toward Y/N slowly, eyes tracking over their face like she was memorizing it. The soft glow of the car’s ambient lights caught in her hair, making the dark strands shimmer against her bare shoulders.

“Can I…” She hesitated, biting her lip, then tilted her head with a breathless little laugh. “I’ve wanted to do this since before the first song tonight.”

Y/N leaned back slightly, teasing, “Do what?”

“This.”

Jennie didn’t give them time to react. She climbed across the seat in one smooth movement, knees bracketing Y/N’s thighs so she was straddling them, the hem of her dress brushing dangerously high. Her hands came up to cradle Y/N’s jaw, her thumbs stroking along their cheekbones.

For half a second, she hovered there  their faces inches apart, her breath warm against their lips. Then she kissed them.

It started soft, like she was testing the waters, but Y/N could feel the tension coiled in her. When they kissed her back, that tension snapped. Her mouth moved against theirs with more urgency, her fingers sliding into their hair and tugging just enough to make Y/N exhale sharply.

The kiss deepened fast. Jennie shifted forward in their lap, pressing closer until there wasn’t a single inch between them. The car swayed gently with the motion of the road, but neither of them cared.

Jennie broke the kiss only long enough to whisper against their lips, “I’ve been telling myself not to want you like this.”

Y/N’s hands found her waist, pulling her tighter. “You’re doing a bad job of it.”

She laughed  low, throaty  and kissed them again, this time slower, deeper, savoring it. Her fingers trailed from their jaw down to the back of their neck, nails lightly grazing skin. Every movement screamed I can’t get enough of you.

When she finally pulled back, their noses still brushing, she rested her forehead against theirs. “Every time you stopped touching me tonight, I wanted to drag your hands back. I hate not feeling you.”

Y/N smirked and slid their hands from her waist to the small of her back. “Then don’t let go.”

Jennie didn’t. She leaned in again, this time kissing them with that dangerous mix of tenderness and need that made Y/N’s head spin. Between kisses, her breath came in quick little bursts, her perfume wrapping around them until the rest of the world disappeared entirely.

The driver might as well have been a hundred miles away. The only sounds in that space were the hum of the road, the soft rustle of clothing, and the quiet, unguarded noises Jennie made when Y/N’s lips found her neck.

By the time the car slowed toward the villa, Jennie was still in their lap, fingers laced behind their neck, lips swollen and eyes hazy. She leaned in for one more kiss, softer now, almost shy despite everything.

“Come inside with me,” she murmured.

Y/N didn’t even think before answering. “Lead the way.”

The car rolled to a stop in front of Jennie’s villa, its white walls glowing under the soft amber of the exterior lights. The night air was warm, the faint hum of cicadas in the background as Jennie slid off Y/N’s lap reluctantly, her hands lingering on their shoulders like she didn’t actually want to move.

She glanced toward the front door, then back at Y/N, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “You’re coming in,” she said  not a question, but a certainty.

Inside, the villa was quiet except for the faint ticking of the clock in the living room. The air smelled faintly of her perfume and fresh laundry, grounding and intimate after the pounding bass of the club.

Jennie kicked off her heels by the door, leaving them haphazardly in the corner. Y/N followed her down the hallway, their footsteps muffled by the plush rug.

The moment they were in the living room, Jennie turned, backing them up until Y/N’s legs hit the edge of the couch. Her hands went to their waist, fingers curling in the fabric of their shirt like she needed something to hold onto.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” she said softly, almost like it was a confession.

Y/N’s lips curled. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Jennie rolled her eyes, but the blush rising on her cheeks betrayed her. She stepped closer, until her body was flush against theirs, and traced lazy circles on Y/N’s waist with her fingertips. “You make it really hard to keep pretending I’m not questioning myself.”

Y/N chuckled low in their throat. “Maybe stop pretending.”

For a beat, Jennie just looked at them, eyes searching, like she was weighing every possible consequence. Then, with a sharp exhale, she closed the distance and kissed them again  slower this time, savoring it like she had all the time in the world.

They sank into the couch together, Jennie’s knees on either side of Y/N’s thighs, her hands roaming over their shoulders, their jaw, back to their waist. Every touch was deliberate, every kiss lingering just a second too long.

When Y/N’s fingers slid into her hair, Jennie let out the softest sigh, her forehead pressing briefly against theirs. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Y/N murmured, tilting their head to kiss along her jaw.

Jennie’s hands slipped under the hem of their shirt, palms warm against bare skin. She traced her nails lightly along their lower back, making them shiver. Y/N’s own hands wandered, mapping the curve of her hips, the small of her back, the line of her spine.

It wasn’t frantic. It wasn’t rushed. It was slow-burning  the kind of heat that settled deep in their bones and refused to fade. Between kisses, Jennie’s lips would hover near their ear, her breath warm as she murmured things Y/N wasn’t sure she was even meant to hear.

“You’re addictive,” she whispered once, almost too quietly to catch.

Eventually, she curled up against them on the couch, her head on their chest, fingers idly tracing patterns along their stomach. The tension between them still buzzed like an unplayed note, but for now, she seemed content to just stay wrapped up in them.

After a while, she tilted her head up to look at them, her expression softer than Y/N had ever seen. “You’re staying tonight, right?”

Y/N smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Try and make me leave.”

Jennie grinned  a little mischievous, a little relieved  and pulled them back down for another slow, lingering kiss, the night stretching out ahead of them, full of unspoken promises.

[fellominaarcher]

THE DEVIL'S BRIDE ── JENNIE

03. The Serpent

» » SYNOPSIS: a month after marrying the devil's daughter, Y/N's career is thriving again and her interaction with Jennie seems to deepens. Which includes, constantly getting tempting by the devil herself.

» » pairing: devil!jennie x artist!femreader

» » genre: supernatural horror-romance, dark comedy, satirical humor & psychological thriller

» » what's in here: mild horror, religious symbolism, SATIRICAL humor and overall the story has a dark tone.

» » author's note: sorry it took me long to update 😓 I have been doing my research about the deal with the devil and lowkey a filler chapter also I'm very suckass with synopsis 💔

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Giuseppe Tartini. Niccolò Paganini. The blues legend Robert Johnson. Led Zeppelin. Avenged Sevenfold. Even The Beatles, allegedly. The story always goes the same way: desperate musicians selling their souls so their music could climb the charts and echo through generations.

Maybe there were more who'd walked this road. The type of people who'd discovered a shortcut, an unconventional, decidedly supernatural one.

Desperation truly breeds a different kind of faith. It challenges everything you thought you believed.

Nearly a month had passed since Y/N wed herself—sold her soul—to Jennie, the devil's daughter. And in all that time, she hadn't seen Jennie once. Not a glimpse. Not a word. She found herself wondering about the little Satan spawn at odd hours.

Was that all, then?

Nothing else would transpire? The consummation certainly hadn't happened yet. Hell, the thought of getting intimate with the devil made her shudder. She'd rather not think about it.

Better to focus on her new release: Delirium. The song was actually doing well on the charts. Right now, she sat in her home studio, blasting through demo tracks, observing what to release next and which artists or groups might be perfect for the songs she wasn't keeping for herself.

Her phone lit up with a notification. Y/N glanced at the screen, a reminder for an upcoming event. Small guest list, expensive tickets. A musician's gathering. The kind where they'd serve caviar and whatever cut of medium-rare steak paired best with obscenely priced wine. Dom Pérignon, probably. Champagne for the guests who pretended not to care about the price tag.

A networking event for people in the music industry.

Meanwhile, outside, the sharp taps of Loboutin heels clicking against the bricked pavement. One hand carried a fruit basket. Hips swayed with a clear confidence. Her outfit was ranged from crimson to deep navy—she was accessorized with designer earrings, a sparkling necklace and a pretty waist belt.

If there was one thing about the devil's daughter, it was her affection for human fashion and sex. And music, of course.

Probably her only love for mortals.

Jennie hummed a tune to herself, a smile playing at her lips. She was eager to see her favorite human—Y/N, whom she'd recently wedded and whose career she'd gladly resurrected.

When she arrived at Y/N's penthouse, she stood before the door and knocked. Twice.

No response. The devil waited a few seconds before realizing—oh. There was a doorbell button. “Right. I used the balcony last time. Never the door,” she muttered, pressing it like a civilized demon.

The lock clicked. The door opened partially, revealing Y/N leaning against it with a casualness. The door stayed half-opened, a small but pointed hint that the devil hadn't been invited in yet.

Nothing supernatural about it, really. Just boundaries.

“Hello... Satan's spawn. It's been a while,” Y/N greeted, her expression neutral, lips a tad pursed.

Jennie chuckled, clearly delighted to see her client/wife. “Hi,” a pause, her smile sharpening, “...my little puppy.”

“Let me in.” The sweet facade cracked like a mirror.

Y/N could have resisted. Could have told the devil to leave her alone. But this was the same entity who'd revived her career. Y/N wasn't exactly excited to discover what gore splattered or other types of horror might unfold if she chose defiance.

It was the devil. Who was she kidding?

She stepped aside, letting Jennie enter. They walked deeper into the penthouse and Jennie placed the fruit basket on the coffee table. Mildly pleased by the gesture, Y/N reached for one of the apples then she froze mid-motion as a dark green serpent slithered from between the fruit, it forked tongue flickering.

“Shit! What the fuck, Jennie?!” Y/N and she was genuinely frightened.

The reaction earned a delighted giggle from Jennie. With a casual snap of her fingers, the serpent dissolved into nothing and leaving only a faint smell of sulphur lingering in the air.

Jennie laughed, delighted as hell by her own little prank. “Relax. It’s just a serpent. You humans are so jumpy.”

“How original,” Y/N replied, clicking her tongue as she turned toward her home studio.

But the devil’s voice stopped her mid-stride. “How has it been? The success I generously dipped my fingers into? I want to hear about your days while I was gone.” Jennie’s tone was inviting, almost conversational.

Y/N glanced back, raising a brow—a silent invitation to follow her to the studio. A place to talk. Jennie shrugged and trailed behind without objection.

Inside, Y/N closed the door after Jennie entered and cleared her throat. “Hmm, well, it's been a lot. Quite like before, actually. Good... even.” She slowly lowered herself into her chair.

A room filled with expensive instruments and the faint smell of coffee, it felt cozy inside. The glowing computer screens and half-scattered lyric sheets. A little messy in this home studio but it felt just right.

Jennie plopped onto the fuzzy dark purple couch, arms wrapped around herself, a small smile playing on her lips. Making herself comfortable as if she owned the place.

“But not exactly like before, right?” Jennie challenged, her gaze locking onto Y/N's with unsettling intention.

Y/N didn't flinch. She met the devil's eyes and one brow arching just slightly.

“Is this about the consummation again? Sex.” Blunt. No point dancing around it with the devil.

Instantly, Jennie's face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. She nodded excitedly, leaning against the arm of the couch with her hands tucked beneath her jaw. “Turns out my little puppy isn't so stupid after all!”

She blinked repeatedly, her lashes fluttering and it was like a child begging for candies. The display made Y/N sneer to herself. It was amusing to her.

“I didn't know something like you could... do that. Human things, I mean.” Y/N looked away then back again, unable to fully commit to ignoring her.

Rubbing her temples with a deep sigh, Y/N licked her lips. “You mentioned this last time too. What is it to you? It's part of the deal, right?” The last part was more to herself than Jennie.

“I mean, is this coercion?”

“No. It is a part of the deal.”

“So this whole process, the steps, the yada yada, it'll be complete once I sleep with you. Right?”

Jennie nodded, maintaining that same eager expression throughout. “Mhmm. Bingo, puppy!” Her voice pitched higher now, showing her excitement.

For Jennie, it was both business and personal pleasure. The consummation wasn't just ceremonial—it sealed the deal. Ensured the succession of the pact with the devil herself.

The silence that followed was thick with tension. They stared at each other for several long seconds. Y/N swallowed and she kept her eyes fixed on Jennie's face. Jennie responded with a sharp glare before looking away first.

Y/N nodded to herself and rose from the chair, moving toward the studio piano. But the moment she turned, there was Jennie—perched on top of the instrument with her legs crossed.

Y/N gasped, jumping slightly. “Oh—” she whipped her head back toward the couch to confirm she wasn't losing her mind.

The devil quite literally teleported.

Y/N sneered and she's amused, shaking her head before settling into the piano bench. She lifted the lid and let her fingers graze the keys. “Are you here to negotiate about the sex, Jennie?” she asked without looking up, her right hand lightly pressing A4, B4 and a few black keys.

Testing out a new sound.

Jennie sighed softly and she leaned back on the piano, resting on one elbow—epitome of bored seduction. The small smirk on her face was not to miss. Y/N's statement made her chuckle. “Are you kidding me? You've already made a Faustain bargain.” she gesture pointedly, amused by the mild hypocrisy.

A pause. “But... kinda.”

Y/N began playing, it was soft, delicate notes and the sounds were thoughtful. “Sorry,” that was all she offered before continuing.

Jennie cleared her throat and leaned forward, studying Y/N's face. “So, how would you like that night to be?” her voice dropped lower, intimate and teasing.

The question made Y/N pause. She froze, palms flat on the keys. The piano released a full, muffled sound. She looked at Jennie. “Whew, what an HR nightmare.” Then she resumed playing softly.

Jennie sneered, giving Y/N a pointed look. “You're not exactly a paragonbof virtue yourself,” a reminder of the whole soul-selling situation.

“And you're the paragon of evil. Surprise!” Y/N retorted with a cheeky smile that quickly faded, her expression turning serious again.

Jennie studied Y/N for a beat too long, her expression unreadable. She blinked then watched Y/N's fingers move across the keys. “New sound, puppy?” her voice softened, almost adorable—if one forgot who was speaking.

“Mhmm,” Y/N hummed. “Still trying it out.” her voice was equally soft.

The devil could see her human wife struggling to find her rhytym, her sound. Trying to claw out a melody from the fog. She sighed softly—decided to help. After all, it was part of her job in this arrangement.

In the blink of an eye, Jennie reappeared beside Y/N, hunching down a little. The air in the studio seemed to shift and the lights were dimming and outside noises faded away. The world folding itself away. It was only them now.

“You know you can just ask, wife.” Jennie whispered into Y/N's ear, her lips brushing against it. The intimacy was deliberate.

In that exact moment, Y/N's playing intensified. The keys sang more beautifully under her fingers. “I thought there was one more step to complete...” her voice carried a hint of hesitation, a small rasp.

“I'll be kind tonight, Y/N.” Jennie's whisper was feather-light, mischievous smile playing at her lips and her face was nearly pressed against the human beside her.

Y/N was certain the devil had almost licked her ear. She imagined a forked tongue. The thought nearly repulsed her, nearly snapped her out of the trance. Jennie's breath warm against her skin.

Then Y/N slowed, fingers carefully grazing the keys, her stare distant and unfocused. “Are you sure...?” Still hesitant about this small offering from the devil.

Selling her soul hadn't prepared her for this. Y/N had thought one meeting—bargaining, meeting and marrying the devil—would be all it required. She thought she'd never have to see Jennie again. She didn't know there was more to it.

Jennie gazed at Y/N, smirk playing on her lips, a hint of red glowing in her eyes. Then, as if conjured from the air itself, a perfect crimson apple appeared on in her palm. Its surface gleamed unnaturally. “Don't be uncertain, puppy. You won't die...” the serpent said to the woman.

She lifted the apple higher, her smile widening and she let out a low chuckle. “Take a bite. You'll open your eyes wider. You'll listen sharper. You'll hear every note from the world hides from you. This is knowledge.” it was as if Jennie's voice echoed in her ears, eerily.

“You'll be on top...” her words hung heavy between them, echoing in the air and Jennie offered the apple to Y/N.

Y/N stared at the fruit. Her breath grew heavier. She stopped playing entirely and she held the last note, her finger pressing down on the A5. The sound was sharp and trembled across the room.

Then Jennie’s cold hand slipped behind her neck and it was gentle, guiding, make it inevitable. Y/N leaned in and took a bite. The apple’s skin broke with a soft crunch, its juice spilling down her lips. It was sweet—almost addictive.

Just like that, the devil also brought the apple to her own lips and she took a bite from the same spot Y/N bit at. “Beautiful,” she muttered and mucnhed on the fruit.

Then, it was as if the night had swallowed them both whole. Y/N remembered playing the piano with wild passion after the serpent offered the apple. As if she was bleeding into madness. The same serpent had stayed beside her all night while she played beyond herself, completely consumed by the sound.

Her eyes blinked open. It felt like she'd slept too deeply, too tightly. Y/N's vision cleared and she found herself standing in front of the mixers, phone in hand, back slightly hunched. Her limbs stiff, like she'd been asleep standing up.

She clicked her phone. The screen lit up—8:15AM. No sign of Jennie in the studio anymore. Notifications pinged—messages from acquaintances at various record labels and entertainment companies. She unlocked her phone to check.

Just a faint trace of the sulfur smell.

“thank you y/n for the new demo songs you sent last night ^^”

“listened to it and I think some of our artists might fit this song's concept!”

“i loved it!”

“we're actually interested in this.”

All positive responses about her new songs. But as far as she remembered, she hadn't sent any demos for review. She was in still in the process of completing them.

“I'm... a little confused...” she muttered, lowering her phone to stare around the studio.

Had the devil bewitched her? Was she still dreaming?

Before she could decide, a sudden hiss of static crackled through the speakers. The sound jolted her. A song began playing on its own—presumably the one she'd ‘sent’ to the record labels. It sounded good. Better than good. It sounded similar to what she played last night on the piano, after biting into that apple.

“Oh fuck...” she whispered.

Jennie may have delivered the other part of the deal.

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taglist (open): @saysirhc @somedaydream @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite @minaripenguu @fruityg0rl @justanotherqueer064 @gr0utgoof @valuyhh @goofymickeyr @ohlexs

[gottencents]

PEAKKKK 🙂‍↔️ READ EVERYONE THIS IS SO GOOD 😮‍💨

[gottencents]

When Did You Get Hot ? - Jennie Kim

paring. loser!jenniekim x fratgirl!reader

synopsis. Shy college student Jennie is reluctantly dragged to a chaotic frat party, where she runs into her confident, teasing former classmate Y/N, sparking unexpected chemistry. 

main masterlist. blackpink masterlist. navigation.

Jennie sat cross-legged on her dorm bed, a soft blanket draped over her legs and her latest book open in front of her. The world outside her window was quiet, the only sounds the occasional footsteps on the hallway and the hum of distant traffic. This was her sanctuary: pages to turn, stories to escape into, and the comforting rhythm of her own thoughts.

Her phone buzzed insistently. She ignored it at first, hoping the persistent notifications were a glitch. But Lisa’s voice soon blasted through the speaker, “Jennie! I am not letting you hide in your dorm all weekend! You need to get out of this hermit life!”

Jennie groaned, burying her face in the book. “I… I was just going to finish this chapter…”

“Chapter shmachter,” Lisa scoffed. “You need some action! You need to see real life! Come on, J! This is a party you’ll never forget.”

Jennie’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know if that’s… really my thing.”

Lisa’s voice softened just a bit, but only enough to be persuasive. “I get it, you’re bookish, introverted, all that. But trust me, sometimes you need to step outside your comfort zone. Come with us. Even for an hour.”

Jisoo chimed in, teasingly “Yeah, come on, Jennie. Even if you’re a total nerd, tonight you’re just… you. No labels, no expectations.”

Rosé added, smirking “Besides, you might surprise yourself. You might even have fun.”

Jennie sighed, debating whether to argue further, but she knew Lisa wouldn’t give up. She closed her book reluctantly.

“Fine… I’ll go. But only for a little while,” she muttered.

“Yes! That’s the spirit!” Lisa cheered, nearly jumping out of her seat. “You’ll thank me later.”

Jennie walked behind Lisa, Jisoo, and Rosé, her arms crossed over her chest as the cool night air brushed against her face. The campus was quiet, the streetlights casting soft pools of light across the sidewalks, but Jennie felt a nervous flutter in her stomach that made her shiver despite the mild evening.

Lisa practically bounced ahead, phone in hand, blasting a playlist through her tiny speaker. “Jennie! You’ve been holed up in your dorm for days! You need to come out and live a little! This party is going to be fun!”

Jennie muttered under her breath, “I don’t know… I’m not really a party person.”

“Not a party person? Oh, please!” Lisa called back, spinning on her heel dramatically. “You’re too serious sometimes, jen. Tonight, you’re going to dance, laugh, and maybe even let loose a little!”

Jisoo giggled. “Yeah, come on. Just try it. If you hate it, we’ll bail together. But you can’t spend your whole weekend in a corner of your dorm.”

Rosé smirked, bumping Jennie lightly with her shoulder. “Besides, we might actually see a side of you that’s… fun. I’m curious.”

Jennie scowled, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “I doubt it.”

Lisa looped her arm through Jennie’s, practically pulling her forward. “You’ll thank me later. Maybe. Probably. I promise it won’t be so bad.”

Jennie tried to steady her breathing as they walked. Part of her longed for the quiet safety of her dorm, the gentle rustle of pages, the soothing solitude of her own space. But another, smaller part a curious part she almost hated to admit wondered what it might be like to actually go somewhere completely different, something loud, messy, and chaotic.

Just get there. One step at a time, she told herself. You can do this. If it’s terrible, you can leave.

The further they walked, the louder the thumping bass became, vibrating faintly through the pavement. Jennie’s stomach twisted. Light flashed from the frat house windows, painting the sidewalk in reds, blues, and yellows. Laughter, shouting, and the occasional clink of glasses spilled into the street.

Jennie slowed, trying to summon courage, while Lisa practically floated ahead like a firecracker. “See? Nothing to be afraid of! Just step inside and let it happen!”

“I… yeah… brave,” Jennie muttered, rubbing her arms as a shiver of nerves ran through her.

Jisoo leaned closer, whispering teasingly, “It’s okay to be nervous. Just see it as an adventure. One you can survive. Maybe even enjoy.”

Rosé smirked. “I’m serious. Even if it’s just for ten minutes, I think tonight could surprise you. You might actually have fun.”

Jennie tried to picture it herself laughing, dancing, not worrying about everyone watching her every move. I’m not good at that. I don’t even know if I belong there…

Lisa, sensing her hesitation, looped an arm through hers again. “Hey, you’re almost there. One step at a time. And you’re not alone. We’ve got you.”

Jennie’s heart hammered in her chest as the glowing windows of the frat house grew closer, each beat of the bass echoing her own nervous pulse.

Okay… just go. One step. That’s all. I can do this.

And with that shaky resolve, she followed her friends toward the door where her night and an unexpected encounter would begin.

Jennie stepped through the frat house doorway, and immediately, the bass from the music hit her chest like a physical force. Lights flashed in red and blue patterns across the room, illuminating throngs of dancing bodies, loud laughter, and drinks spilling onto the sticky floor. Her stomach twisted, and she felt herself shrinking instinctively.

Lisa, Jisoo, and Rosé disappeared into the crowd as if the music had pulled them in by gravity. Jennie felt completely alone, clutching her arms across her chest, wishing she could vanish into the nearest wall.

Okay… find a corner. Blend in. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t… don’t scream internally…

Her eyes scanned the room desperately. There were groups of people everywhere laughing, swaying to the music, shouting over the thumping bass. Jennie felt every gaze as if it were a spotlight, even though she hadn’t made eye contact with anyone. She hugged herself tighter, wishing she had stayed in her dorm, wishing she had ignored Lisa’s relentless coaxing.

She edged toward the far side of the room, a shadowed corner near a potted plant and a cluster of empty chairs. The floor was sticky beneath her shoes, the heat and sweat of the crowd pressing in. Her pulse raced, her palms clammy.

Just breathe… just breathe…

Then she felt a presence, like a ripple in the chaos. Someone’s gaze landed on her and held. It was… unsettling, but in a way that made her chest tighten pleasantly.

“Well, well… look who’s hiding in the shadows,” a smooth, teasing voice said.

Jennie jumped slightly, spinning toward the sound. Her eyes widened.

“Y/N?” she whispered, incredulous, her voice barely audible over the music.

Y/N leaned casually against the wall nearby, arms crossed, scanning the room like she owned it. And maybe she did. Her dark eyes landed on Jennie with that mischievous glint Jennie remembered from middle and high school when Y/N had a knack for noticing everything about people, even the things they tried to hide.

“Jennie Kim…” Y/N said, smirking. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Jennie swallowed hard. “I… uh… hey,” she stammered. Her heart thudded. “It’s… been a long time.”

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, stepping closer, her confidence radiating in waves. “Middle school, high school… I can’t believe we actually ran into each other in a frat house.” She studied Jennie carefully, tilting her head. “You’ve… changed.”

Jennie’s cheeks heated. She looked down, embarrassed. “Uh… thanks… I ”

“Don’t look down,” Y/N said, with a teasing lilt. “Hold your head up. You’re here now, aren’t you? Let’s make the most of it.”

Jennie’s pulse raced as Y/N extended a hand. It was firm, confident, warm. Hesitating only a moment, she placed her hand in Y/N’s.

“Come on,” Y/N said, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll show you how to survive this party.”

Jennie followed, her steps tentative. Y/N guided her into the middle of the room, moving with the music naturally, effortlessly. Jennie felt awkward and stiff at first, tripping slightly on her own feet as Y/N laughed softly.

“You’re… tense,” Y/N whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair from Jennie’s face. “Relax. Just follow me.”

Jennie tried. She laughed nervously, twirling awkwardly. Y/N’s presence made her feel… safe, somehow, in the middle of a crowd she felt like she didn’t belong to.

“See? Not so scary,” Y/N said, leaning in close. Her lips were inches from Jennie’s ear. “And hey… I’ve never noticed how pretty you are until now.”

Jennie swallowed hard, her pulse hammering. “I… I didn’t think you would… notice.”

“I notice everything,” Y/N said with a playful smirk. “Especially when someone’s trying not to be noticed.”

Jennie felt a shiver down her spine. It was a mix of nerves, excitement, and something more something she couldn’t quite name yet. Y/N’s eyes locked on hers, teasing, confident, and just a little dangerous.

For the first time that night, Jennie laughed softly, nervously but genuinely. And as Y/N took her hand again, guiding her to dance, she realized that maybe… maybe this night wouldn’t be so unbearable after all.

The music pulsed through the room like a heartbeat, loud and insistent, vibrating through Jennie’s chest. She still felt awkward her shoulders stiff, her hands hovering nervously near her sides but Y/N had a way of drawing her in, making the chaos feel almost… manageable.

“Here,” Y/N said suddenly, grabbing two red cups from a nearby table. “Let’s make this interesting.”

Jennie blinked. “Interesting?”

Y/N smirked, leaning close so Jennie could feel the warmth of her body. “You feed me this drink.”

Jennie’s eyes widened. “I… what?”

Y/N tilted her head teasingly. “Just put it in my mouth. I’ll show you.”

Jennie felt heat rush to her cheeks. Her mind raced: This is ridiculous… but… wow, she’s so confident. She hesitated, then tentatively held the cup, bringing it to Y/N’s lips.

Y/N tilted her jaw just slightly, giving Jennie the perfect angle. “That’s it,” she murmured. Jennie’s hands brushed against her neck lightly, unsure whether to pull back or stay close. Y/N’s lips met the cup, and she swallowed, eyes locking with Jennie’s.

Jennie’s pulse jumped. “I… I think I did it right,” she whispered, a nervous smile tugging at her lips.

Y/N chuckled softly, a low, playful sound that made Jennie shiver. “You’re… really good at this. Better than I expected.”

Jennie felt a rush of warmth, both embarrassment and thrill. She glanced at the crowded room around them no one seemed to notice their little bubble. She could focus on Y/N, who was leaning closer, whispering teasingly:

“You’ve gotten… really beautiful . And shy. I like it.”

Jennie felt her hands trembling slightly as she brushed a loose strand of hair from her own face. “You… never said that before.”

Y/N’s smirk deepened. “I didn’t… notice until now.” She leaned even closer, grazing her lips near Jennie’s ear. “You’ve always been… interesting. I just… don’t know how i’ve never notice before.”

Jennie’s breath hitched. Her chest felt tight, her nerves buzzing with excitement. She could feel Y/N’s confidence radiating, pulling her into this strange, thrilling orbit.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” Y/N teased, letting her hand brush against Jennie’s neck lightly. Jennie felt a jolt, both startled and captivated.

“I… I think I like this,” Jennie admitted quietly, almost to herself, her fingers hesitating near Y/N’s arm.

“Like what?” Y/N asked, playful, tilting her head, letting Jennie touch her shoulder, testing the boundaries.

“This… this feeling,” Jennie whispered, flushed, her fingers brushing against Y/N’s collarbone, unsure but wanting more.

Y/N’s grin widened. “Good. Because I like it too.” She leaned in, letting her lips gently graze the side of Jennie’s neck. A soft bite, playful, teasing, made Jennie gasp and blush.

“W-what…?” Jennie stammered, her hands trembling as Y/N’s fingers brushed along her neck, testing her comfort with gentle squeezes and whispered words.

“You like that, don’t you?” Y/N murmured, low and teasing.

Jennie swallowed hard, her shyness melting slowly under the warmth of Y/N’s touch and the thrill of the attention. She let her fingers explore carefully, guided by Y/N’s subtle cues, and realized she was starting to enjoy this the closeness, the teasing, the heat of being noticed in a way she’d never experienced.

Y/N leaned closer, whispering in her ear “Come on… let’s get out of here. I have somewhere we can be… alone.”

Jennie’s pulse raced. She nodded, barely able to form words. “O-okay…”

Y/N took her hand firmly, confident and grounding, and led her through the crowded party, the music fading slightly behind them as they approached the stairs to Y/N’s room. Jennie’s heart hammered not just from anticipation, but from the thrill of following someone so bold, so fearless, and so undeniably magnetic.

The music from the frat party faded as Y/N led Jennie through the hallway, hand warm and firm around hers. Jennie’s stomach fluttered like butterflies trapped in a cage, nerves and anticipation battling against each other.

“Uh… I… I don’t really know what we’re supposed to do now,” Jennie admitted, her voice small, trembling slightly.

Y/N smirked over her shoulder. “Then just… follow me. Don’t overthink it.”

Jennie bit her lip, feeling both nervous and strangely excited. Every step closer to Y/N’s room made her pulse quicken. Her heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest, and her hands were clammy even though Y/N’s presence was strangely grounding.

When the door closed behind them, the room was dimly lit, cozy, and warm, a stark contrast to the chaotic party. Jennie froze in the middle of the room, unsure of where to place her hands, what to do with herself.

Y/N stepped closer, closing the distance, eyes glinting with playful intent. “Relax. You don’t have to do anything… except be here.”

Jennie swallowed hard, heat creeping up her neck and face. “I… I’m not really sure…”

Y/N smiled softly and cupped Jennie’s face gently in her hands. “Then let me show you.”

And then Y/N kissed her. Soft at first, testing boundaries, their lips brushing tentatively. Jennie’s hands went to Y/N’s shoulders instinctively, clutching nervously as the kiss deepened. The world outside music, flashing lights, crowded rooms disappeared.

Y/N pulled back slightly, teasing, and whispered against her lips, “You taste nervous… and perfect.”

Jennie giggled nervously, hands brushing along Y/N’s chest, unsure but emboldened by Y/N’s guiding touch. “I… I’ve never… done this before…”

“Good,” Y/N murmured, leaning in again. “Then let me teach you.”

The kiss became more urgent, heated. Y/N’s lips moved against hers with a confident rhythm, hands tracing her back, tugging her closer. Jennie’s nervousness began to melt under Y/N’s touch, her hands exploring timidly but guided by Y/N’s subtle cues.

Y/N’s lips trailed down Jennie’s neck, leaving soft, teasing love bites. Jennie gasped and flushed, her fingers tangling in Y/N’s hair instinctively. Every playful nip, every gentle squeeze of her neck drew moans from her lips, her body responding in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

“You like that, don’t you?” Y/N whispered, pressing closer, her voice low and teasing.

Jennie swallowed hard, barely able to nod. “Y-yes…”

Encouraged, Y/N pulled her closer, hands roaming slowly, confidently, tracing every curve she could reach, brushing along Jennie’s arms and back. Jennie’s hands followed cautiously, learning where it was okay to touch, feeling more alive and daring with every moment.

Finally, Y/N captured her lips again, their mouths moving together with hunger and playfulness. Jennie wrapped her arms around Y/N, letting herself give in completely, losing track of time and space, lost entirely in the heat of their connection.

When they finally pulled back, breathing hard, Jennie’s cheeks were flushed, her chest heaving. Her eyes met Y/N’s, both of them smiling with the shared, electric understanding that something new dangerous, thrilling, and irresistible had begun between them.

“You’re… amazing,” Jennie whispered, voice trembling.

Y/N grinned, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I told you, shy girl… you just needed a little push.”

Jennie’s pulse was still racing, but for the first time that night, she felt exhilarated, alive, and completely captivated by the bold, teasing presence of Y/N.

Jennie sat on the edge of Y/N’s bed, her fingers nervously twisting together as she tried to calm the rapid beating of her heart. The dim light of the room cast shadows across the walls, making everything feel more intimate, more private than the chaos of the frat party downstairs.

Y/N leaned casually against the doorframe, watching her with that confident, teasing smirk that Jennie couldn’t stop staring at. “You’re… quiet now,” Y/N said, voice low, almost a purr. “All flushed and nervous. I kind of like it.”

Jennie bit her lip, cheeks burning. “I… I don’t really know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything,” Y/N replied, stepping closer and letting her fingers brush against Jennie’s shoulder. “Actions speak louder anyway.”

Jennie shivered at the touch, feeling heat spread through her body. “I… I don’t know if I can… do this,” she whispered, voice trembling.

Y/N tilted her head, leaning close enough that Jennie could feel her warm breath. “Then don’t. Not yet. Just… be with me. Feel this.” She guided Jennie’s hands to rest gently on her own chest, encouraging her without pressure.

Jennie’s fingers trembled as she made contact, and Y/N’s hands found hers, intertwining their fingers and giving them a reassuring squeeze. “See? Nothing scary. Just us.”

Y/N stepped closer, their foreheads brushing as she whispered, “I want to see you… let go. Just a little. You can trust me.”

Jennie’s heartbeat raced. She hesitated, then slowly leaned into Y/N, letting her body melt slightly under her touch. Her hands began to explore tentatively her fingers tracing the line of Y/N’s arm, lingering at the shoulder, brushing her collarbone. Every movement made her pulse spike with nervous excitement.

“You’re so cute when you’re shy,” Y/N murmured, leaning down to nip softly at Jennie’s neck. Jennie gasped and pressed closer, heat spreading across her face and chest.

“Y-yes… I… I like that,” Jennie admitted breathlessly, her hands brushing against Y/N more confidently this time.

Encouraged, Y/N’s hands moved to gently squeeze the sides of Jennie’s neck while whispering teasing words into her ear. “You like that, huh? You’re blushing all over.”

Jennie’s fingers twined into Y/N’s hair instinctively, tilting her head slightly as Y/N’s lips found hers again. The kiss was slower this time, lingering, teasing, exploring. Jennie responded with a mix of nervousness and daring, pressing her body closer and letting her hands wander more freely.

“You’re… amazing,” Jennie whispered against Y/N’s lips, breath trembling.

“I know,” Y/N said with a playful grin, tilting Jennie’s chin up slightly to capture her lips again. “And I want to see how much fun we can have.”

Jennie shivered, a mixture of nerves and excitement flooding her senses. Her hands moved over Y/N’s shoulders, back, and arms, testing boundaries and discovering which touches made Y/N respond with a low, teasing hum.

“You can touch me anywhere,” Y/N whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Jennie’s temple. “As long as you ask.”

Jennie swallowed, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks again. “I… can?”

“Of course,” Y/N said softly, letting her lips brush against the side of Jennie’s neck again, leaving a faint mark. Jennie gasped, shivering, and her hands moved to Y/N’s chest, hesitant but emboldened by Y/N’s guiding tone.

Y/N’s grin widened. “See? You’re already doing it. You’re learning fast.”

Jennie’s pulse raced, a mix of exhilaration and nervous excitement coursing through her. She felt herself leaning closer, pressing her lips briefly against Y/N’s neck in response, testing the boundaries, letting the heat between them build.

“Good,” Y/N whispered, fingers brushing Jennie’s hair back. “You’re exactly what I wanted tonight. Shy, nervous… and slowly learning how to enjoy yourself.”

Jennie laughed softly, a nervous but genuine sound, her body relaxing slightly into Y/N’s arms. “I… like this,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Good. Because I’m just getting started.”

And with that, Y/N leaned in, capturing Jennie’s lips again in a kiss that was playful, teasing, and full of promise an unspoken understanding that the night was far from over, and neither of them wanted it to end.

The morning sun filtered softly through Y/N’s curtains, painting the room in warm gold. Jennie sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a blanket, her hair tousled and her cheeks still flushed from the night before. The memories of whispered words, teasing touches, and stolen kisses made her heart flutter all over again.

Y/N stretched lazily beside her, smirking. “You know… you were really cute last night.”

Jennie bit her lip, embarrassed but smiling. “I… I had fun. I didn’t think I would, but…” She trailed off, looking down, cheeks burning.

Y/N reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind Jennie’s ear. “Hey, look at me.” Jennie lifted her gaze, meeting Y/N’s eyes. “I mean it. You surprised me. You’re incredible.”

Jennie’s heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Really,” Y/N confirmed, a teasing glint in her eyes. “And, actually… I was thinking. This us it shouldn’t just be a one-night thing.”

Jennie’s pulse quickened. “You… you mean like… a date?”

Y/N grinned, leaning closer and letting her fingers trace lightly along Jennie’s arm. “Yeah. A proper date. You and me. No parties, no chaos just us. What do you say?”

Jennie felt warmth flood her chest. She laughed nervously, but it was full of genuine happiness. “I… I’d love that.”

Y/N’s grin widened, and she tugged Jennie gently closer, their foreheads touching. “Good. Because I’ve been waiting a long time to see you like this relaxed, smiling, and maybe a little bold.”

Jennie giggled softly. “Bold… I’m not sure I’m ready for bold.”

Y/N’s lips curved into that confident, playful smirk. “That’s okay. I’ll help you. Step by step.”

They shared a quiet laugh, the kind that filled the room with warmth. Jennie rested her head lightly against Y/N’s shoulder, still a little shy but feeling safe, exhilarated, and excited all at once.

After a long moment, Y/N whispered teasingly, “And tonight… maybe we continue where we left off.”

Jennie blushed, heart pounding, but she nodded, a small smile breaking across her face. “I… think I’d like that.”

Y/N pulled her close for a soft, lingering kiss, more gentle this time, as if sealing a promise not just of the night before, but of many nights and days to come.

Outside, the campus bustled with life, but inside Y/N’s room, time seemed to pause. Two people who had once been worlds apart had found something thrilling, unexpected, and intoxicating a connection that was equal parts playful, tender, and electrifying.

As they held each other, Jennie realized that sometimes, stepping outside your comfort zone could lead to the most unforgettable adventures. And for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

[gottencents]

thank yall so much for 700 followers, i know i been away but life after graduating is not for the weak 🫩 i got three new fics that will be posted in the upcoming weeks. ofcourseee request for fics in my inbox are always welcome 😮‍💨🫶

[gottencents]

TWINNN I MISS U

TWINNNN I MISS U TOOO HOW U BEEN 🤭

[gottencents]

if u get a ★ in ur inbox it means ur moot appreciates u, and ur efforts in the community. send this to 10 mutuals to continue the love !!

thank youuuu my pookie 🙂‍↔️ luv uuu 4ever

[gottencents]

chapter six. | Casual - Yu Jimin.

pairing. maingirl!karina x starsoccerplayer!reader

synopsis. at Changryeo University, Yu Jimin or just Karina is the ultimate “mean rich girl” — popular, wealthy, and always seeking ways to stay on top. After setting her sights on Sunghoon, the charming soccer captain, Karina shifts her focus to Y/N, an up-and-coming soccer star with an unexpected breakout season. Unlike the polished Sunghoon, Y/N is more of an outsider who got by on talent but doesn’t fit the typical college elite mold.

Realizing that Y/N is the only one who doesn’t care about the social hierarchy, Karina proposes a deal: they’ll fake date so Karina can boost her popularity, while Y/N gets protection from relentless attention. Reluctantly, Y/N agrees, and the two navigate a world of social manipulation, only to find that their fake relationship might lead to something more real than either expected.

author note - surprise 😳 things may seem like they’re going in circles but it supposed to feel almost exhausting to read to resemble the weight of their feelings .

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next.

The room was so quiet, the ticking of the old clock across the wall felt like a metronome marking time in a war neither of them were sure they were winning. Each second dragged, echoing off the walls like it knew they were both holding their breath, again.

Karina’s arms were wrapped around Y/N, one hand sifting slowly through damp hair, the other resting at her spine like she could hold her together if she just stayed still enough. But Y/N was tremblingbarelybut Karina could feel it, like there was still a storm beneath her skin, clawing to get out.

They’d been here before. Not this exact moment, maybe. But close enough. Close enough that Karina knew the script by heart, even when the lines changed.

“I don’t know why you keep doing this,” Y/N said into her collarbone, voice muffled, broken at the edges like she hadn’t slept in days. Maybe she hadn’t.

Karina didn't move. Didn’t flinch. “Doing what?”

“Staying.” Y/N’s laugh was small, flat, no humor left in it. Just tired. “You keep choosing this. Choosing me. Like we’re not stuck in the same cycle every week, like I’m not dragging you down with me. You’re gonna wake up one day and realize you don’t recognize yourself anymore. And I’ll be the reason.”

Karina swallowed, the words familiar enough that they should’ve hurt less by now. But they still landed like stones in her chest.

She exhaled slowly, brushing her thumb across Y/N’s jaw, grounding her. “I’m not putting up with you,” she murmured. “I’m loving you.”

The words felt heavier than the silence they broke. Familiar. Repeated. Truebut tired.

Y/N blinked, like she didn’t believe her. Like she’d heard the words too many times and still couldn’t hold them.

Karina cupped her cheek. “You think I haven’t tried to walk away from this?” she whispered. “From you? Not because I don’t love youbut because I’m scared I’ll keep showing up and you’ll never believe I mean it.”

Y/N looked away, shame pinching at her features.

“I want to believe you,” she said. “I do. But it’s like my brain is stuck in this loop, and every time you pull me out of it, I just… fall right back in.”

“I know,” Karina said. Her voice didn’t hold pity. Just truth. And fatigue. “I know.”

There was a beat of silence, heavy and worn thin.

“I’m so tired of being this person,” Y/N whispered, barely audible. “The one who always needs saving.”

“And I’m tired of trying to prove that you don’t,” Karina replied, not harshly, just honestly. “But I’ll keep doing it. Even if we’re going in circles.”

Y/N leaned into her, just enough that Karina felt the tension bleed a little from her shoulders.

“But what if we’re not getting anywhere?” Y/N asked. “What if we’re just spinning?”

Karina let her eyes fall shut for a second before answering.

“Then we spin,” she said softly. “Together.”

The apartment felt smaller lately. Not because it was, but because they kept filling it with silence that said too much.

Y/N sat at the kitchen table, coffee untouched, her fingers curled tight around the mug like it could keep her from falling apart again. Across the room, Karina stood at the stove, humming. Quiet, unsteady. Even her hums sounded tired now.

“You’re staring,” Karina said, still facing away.

Y/N swallowed. “I wasn’t.”

Karina turned slightly. “You were.”

Her smile was gentle, but her eyesGod, her eyes looked tired. Not just from lack of sleep, but from loving someone who kept expecting her to stop.

Y/N looked back at her mug. “You should stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Checking if I’m about to break.”

Karina turned off the stove and walked over, sliding into the chair across from her. “Would you rather I let you?”

Y/N shook her head, her voice barely a breath. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

Karina leaned forward, elbows on the table. Her fingers reached for Y/N’s and didn’t let go. “And I’m telling you, I wantto. But I don’t know how many times I can keep saying it before it starts to sound like I’m trying to convince myself, too.”

Y/N flinched at that. Not because it wasn’t fair. But because it was.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Karina didn’t look away, but her voice softened. “Don’t be sorry for hurting. Be sorry if you stop trying. And you haven’t. Not yet.”

“I don’t know what trying looks like anymore,” Y/N said. “Some days it feels like we’re just... going in circles. Like we’re chasing comfort we can’t hold onto.”

Karina’s voice was so quiet, it almost disappeared. “Yeah. But we’re still chasing it together. That has to count for something.”

Later, in the living room, the quiet stretched again. Y/N sat curled on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, trying to disappear into the cushions. Karina sat on the floor this time, leaning her head against Y/N’s knee like she was trying to tether them both to something solid.

“We keep ending up here,” Y/N murmured. “Same fight. Same pain. Just different days.”

“I know,” Karina whispered. “But I’d rather go in circles with you than go anywhere else without you.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. “Even if we never get out of this?”

Karina nodded against her leg. “Then I’ll keep walking the loop. Over and over. As long as you don’t let go.”

Y/N wanted to say it wasn’t fair. That Karina deserved a love that wasn’t exhausting. That didn’t require her to constantly remind someone they were worth loving.

But instead, she said, “I’m still here.”

It wasn’t a promise. Not really.

But it was something.

Karina looked up at her. “So am I.”

And maybe that’s all they had.

Two tired people.
Two hearts fraying at the seams.
Still spinning.

Still choosing each other anyway.

Everything felt louder in the early morning hours. The world was still young, but their bodies bore the weight of years of doubt and love. Y/N lay awake, watching the soft grey light pool across the curtains. Every breath felt like rehearsed survival.

Karina stirred beside heran inexact wind, shifting in sleepthen rolled over slowly, pressuring her shoulder back down into the pillow with gentle certainty. Y/N’s heart cracked a little at the gesture, because even in sleep, Karina was anchoring them both.

She couldn't move. The exhaustion wasn't just in her bones; it was in her thoughtsspinning loops of fear, enough to make her feel she's circling empty promises again. Eventually, she whispered, “You’re staying.”

Karina blinked awake. “I am.”

“But... what keeps you?”

Karina didn't answer at once. She let the silence stretch so long that Y/N wondered if she’d fallen asleep again.

“I don’t know what it is,” Karina finally said, voice smooth but soft. “Maybe because even when your doubt takes over, you still reach for me. You still look. You still”

Her words broke off.

Y/N’s breath came in quiet little stitches, rebellion or reliefshe couldn't tell. “I don’t think I deserve to be looked at.”

“Yes, you do.” Karina’s voice turned gentle, determined. “Because even when you're falling apart, you're still searching for something good. And that’s not pathetic. That’s human.”

Y/N exhaled, raw. “But we keep going around in chaos. Are we... moving at all?”

Karina’s hand found hers. “Circles don't have to mean stagnation,” she murmured. “Sometimes circles are how we reclaim the center.”

They stayed like thatfor minutes that felt like hoursuntil the morning slipped into hazy awareness. Words had been said. Progress, quiet but present.

By mid-morning, the apartment was a sketch of normal: dishes in the sink, sunlight through blinds, quiet footsteps. They moved through their routinenot easy, but familiar. Karina hummed softly as she brewed coffee; the kettle’s whistle felt like a bell of peace.

Y/N watched her from the couch, pulling knees to her chest. She didn’t speak; didn’t need to. The hum itself was enough.

Karina caught her gaze. Without a word, she filled two mugs, and carried one over. Y/N took it, his palm warm around hers.

“I thought we could try something,” Karina said softly, settling beside her. “Just... a small check-in. A moment of honesty.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Why now?”

“Because it’s been a long loop,” Karina admitted. “There’s fear in silenceeven more than in speaking. I want to break the loop with something new.”

Y/N nodded. “Okay.”

They each said one thing they were afraid of.

Y/N: “That one day, I’ll believe I’m not worth loving, and that’ll be the end of it.”

Karina: “That I’ll wake up and find I’ve grown tired of proving you you’re worth it.”

They named their ghosts, and in naming them, they shrunk just enough that the weight didn't feel infinite.

Later, around lunch, they sat together on the couch, the hum of daily life around them. The ticking clock felt different nownot like a judge, but like a companion marking time they shared.

Karina's thumb traced idle patterns on Y/N’s wrist. “I don’t promise this won’t feel like circling. But I promise I’ll always come back to you.”

Y/N swallowed. “I just... I want to believe it one day. Without having to talk myself into it.”

“It’s okay if it takes time,” Karina said. “I’ll sit with you until you do.”

Y/N closed her eyes, the ache of need and love and fear mingling inside her. She reached up, brushing her hand across Karina's cheekthe same gesture, new meaning.

“Thank you for sitting here,” she whispered.

“Always.”

As dusk settled, they moved to the small balcony. The air was cool, and the city hummed below. Y/N leaned against the railing; Karina stood close, close enough that even the space between them pulsed with unspoken promises.

Y/N’s head rested against Karina’s shoulder. “We’re still circling, aren't we?”

Karina nodded. “Yes.”

“And that’s okay?”

Karina turned to face her, and they pressed foreheads together. “It’s more than okay. It’s still forward motion.” She breathed them together. “Even if we can’t see the way out yet.”

Y/N let herself lean fully into the idea. Not believing entirelynot yetjust letting it exist.

Karina kissed her temple lightly. “We’ll keep circling. And maybe one day we’ll find the center.”

Y/N whispered, “Maybe.”

They stayed there, in the quiet curves of each other, circling stillbut maybe, finally, toward something real.

It started with pancakes.

Burnt ones.

Karina had insisted on cooking, even though Y/N raised an eyebrow the moment she pulled out the flour. “You sure?” she asked, arms crossed, voice suspicious but playful.

Karina grinned. “I’ve made pancakes before.”

“You attempted pancakes. It was a war crime.”

Karina tossed a dishtowel at her. “Have some faith in me, would you?”

Y/N smirked but leaned against the counter, silently watching her stir the batter with far more confidence than she deserved.

The first pancake hit the pan with a satisfying hiss. The smell followedburnt sugar, scorched edges, hope.

Y/N reached over and poked it. “It’s black, babe.”

“It’s golden,” Karina replied stubbornly. “Golden is subjective.”

Y/N laughedgenuine, breathy. The sound startled them both. Karina looked over, blinking like she wasn’t used to hearing it anymore.

“Do it again,” she said quietly.

“What?”

“That laugh. You don’t give it to me much these days.”

Y/N looked away, the smile falling before it could settle. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“I know,” Karina said, flipping another doomed pancake.

They ate on the couchone decent pancake each, the rest drowned in syrup to mask the burn. It was imperfect. Domestic. Almost easy.

For a while.

The shift came like it always didquiet, sudden, irreversible.

Y/N left her plate in the sink without rinsing it. A tiny thing. A stupid thing. But something about it tugged loose a thread Karina hadn’t realized she was barely holding.

“You left the pan on,” Karina said from the kitchen. Not accusatory. Just tired.

“I was gonna come back for it.”

“You always say that.”

Y/N’s spine stiffened. “Okay. Didn’t know we were keeping score.”

Karina exhaled through her nose, setting her own plate down with a soft clink. “It’s not about score. It’s about always living in this in-between. You do things halfway and then check out.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the edge in her tone. “I cooked with you. I laughed with you. I tried today.”

“I know,” Karina said, voice rising. “But trying isn’t the same as staying. You keep dipping your toe into this relationship like you’re preparing to run the second it gets hard again.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “You think I don’t want to be here?”

“I think you don’t trust that being here won’t break you.”

That landed.

And Y/N did what she always did when the walls got too close she snapped.

“Well, maybe I don’t trust it,” she shot back. “Maybe because every time I let myself feel safe, I start thinking you’d be better off with someone who doesn’t treat love like it’s a goddamn battlefield!”

Karina’s eyes flashed. “I don’t want better. I want you.”

“You shouldn’t,” Y/N hissed, arms folding tightly across her chest. “You deserve someone who’s not a fucking project.”

Karina’s silence was sharp, drawn-out.

And then, quietly like a match striking the last bit of oxygen left between them she said:

“I don’t love you despite the broken parts, Y/N. I love you because of them. Because they’re yours. Because you’ve survived every version of yourself that tried to end youand you’re still standing here trying to love me back.”

Y/N froze.

Her mind reeled, twisting on the words like they didn’t make sense. Like they couldn’t be true.

“No, don’t” she started, but her voice faltered. “Don’t make it sound beautiful. It’s not. I’m not.”

Karina stepped closer, slow, like approaching a wild animal. “You don’t get to decide what’s worthy of love. You don’t get to rip yourself apart and expect me to agree with your ruins.”

Y/N turned away, but Karina wasn’t finished.

“You think I’m tired of you? I’m tired of watching you hate yourself so loudly I can barely hear anything else.”

The room rang with the weight of that.

And Y/N’s anger cracked not in flames, but in fragments. She sank down onto the edge of the couch, hands covering her face.

“I don’t know how to stop,” she whispered. “I keep trying to claw my way out of it but it’s like… like I always fall right back in.”

Karina knelt in front of her, slow, deliberate. “Then stop climbing like you’re alone.”

Y/N looked at her. Broken. Hollow-eyed. But open.

Karina’s hands found hers, steady as ever. “I’m here. I’m still here.”

Y/N’s voice cracked as she whispered, “But what if I never get better?”

Karina’s grip didn’t loosen. “Then we’ll keep walking in circles. Together.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh that wasn’t a laugh at all. Just breath, shattered around the edges.

She leaned forward until her forehead met Karina’s.

“You really know how to wreck a breakdown,” she murmured.

Karina smiled faintly, eyes glassy. “Good. You needed a new one anyway.”

They stayed there, forehead to forehead, breath to breath.

Not healed.

Not fixed.

But present.

And maybe, just maybe, that was more than either of them knew how to ask for.

The apartment was quiet again.

The kind of quiet that didn’t feel soft, or safe, or still. It felt like falling back into yourself.

Karina had gone to shower, and Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, knuckles resting against her temples, elbows on her knees. The skin beneath her eyes felt dry and stretched tight, her chest hollow in a way that was all too familiar.

Karina’s words still rang in her head:

“Stop climbing like you’re alone.”

It had been meant to heal. It had almost worked.

But Y/N knew better than anyone: the climb started long before Karina ever showed up.

Then

Her earliest memory was of her mom slamming a door.

The sound of it, not the reason. She couldn’t remember what she’d doneif it had even been her. But the way the house echoed after that slam lodged itself in her ribs and stayed there.

Their house had always been clean. Too clean. The kind of clean that meant don’t touch. Don’t move the pillows. Don’t speak unless spoken to.

Y/N learned early to be small.

A quiet child was a good child. A silent one was better.

And on the days when her dad came home with tension in his jaw and his tie already loose, she learned something else: you could breathe wrong and start a war.

So she learned how not to breathe too loud.

She learned how to apologize before anything actually happened.

How to disappear into corners.

How to study a room and predict the storm before the clouds even formed.

She got good at it.

Better than she ever should’ve been.

Now

Karina's voice filtered faintly through the bathroom doorhumming again. That same soft, tuneless noise she made when her guard was down.

Y/N curled her fingers into the blanket beneath her.

Karina made it look so easy. Just… being. Existing in space like she deserved to be there. Like her presence wasn’t conditional.

Y/N didn’t know what that felt like. She only knew how to be useful, how to perform, how to earn the space she took up.

Then

In middle school, she made the soccer team mostly by accident.

She hadn’t planned to try out. She’d just kicked a ball at the right time, hard enough to shut someone up who was bullying a younger kid. The coach had seen it.

That was the first time someone had looked at her like she was something.

Not broken.

Not invisible.

Just capable.

She clung to that.

Soccer became the one place she wasn’t suffocating under the weight of her home life. The one place where no one cared how quiet she was, as long as she could run fast and hit hard.

And she did.

Over and over and over again.

Because winning meant no one asked questions. It meant she had value. It meant she didn’t have to explain why she flinched when someone raised their voice.

Now

The bathroom door creaked open, and Karina stepped out, wrapped in a towel, damp hair clinging to her shoulders.

Y/N looked up automatically, and something twisted in her chest.

Karina was the kind of beautiful that people fought over. Admired. Envied.

But that wasn’t what made her dangerous.

What made her dangerous was that she loved on purpose. With intention. With fire.

And Y/N had never been taught how to receive that.

Karina caught her watching and gave her a small smile. “You okay?”

Y/N hesitated. Nodded.

Karina didn’t push it.

Instead, she crossed the room, dropped the towel without ceremony, and pulled on an old t-shirtY/N’s t-shirt, faded and too big.

And just like that, Y/N felt like she was fourteen again, standing in a living room she wasn’t allowed to speak in, trying to convince herself she didn’t want too much.

She looked away.

Then

She had tried to come out once.

Just once.

She was sixteen. Naïve enough to think timing was everything, that if she caught her parents on a good dayafter a report card, maybe, or a win they’d hear her.

She got halfway through the sentence before her father cut her off with a sharp laugh.

“Of course you’re not.”

And that was that.

No shouting. No slurs.

Just dismissal.

Like her entire identity was a joke he didn’t find funny.

She never brought it up again.

Now

Karina crawled into bed beside her, still damp, skin warm from the shower. She didn’t say anything at first, just curled into Y/N’s side like she belonged there.

Like she knew she belonged there.

Y/N’s arms moved automatically to hold her. To keep her.

But something inside her still resisted the comfort.

“Can I ask you something?” she whispered.

Karina shifted, eyes blinking open sleepily. “Of course.”

“If I never let go of thisif I always feel brokenwill you still want me?”

Karina didn’t answer right away.

And the pause was long enough for every insecurity in Y/N’s chest to rise like acid.

But then Karina sat up slightly, hand cupping her face, her voice low but clear.

“I don’t want you because I think you’ll get better. I want you because you’re real. You feel like something I don’t have to fake.”

Y/N swallowed, throat burning.

Karina leaned in, forehead brushing hers. “And if your ghosts are coming with you, fine. Just make space for me in the car.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath that might’ve been a laugh. Or a sob.

She didn’t say thank you.

Didn’t say she was sorry for all the ways she still didn’t know how to stay.

She just curled tighter into Karina’s chest, letting the heat of her soak into the spaces that had been cold since childhood.

She might never unlearn the silence she was raised in.

But Karina persistent, stubborn, realwas teaching her that maybe silence didn’t have to mean alone.

Y/N wasn’t sure what was worse: the silence of Karina’s apartment or the noise of Changryeo University.

Maybe the noise. Because at least in silence, she could pretend she wasn’t being watched.

Out here?

Everyone was watching.

The dining hall was crowded shoulder-to-shoulder packed. Plates clattered. Someone’s playlist was leaking out of a nearby speaker, something upbeat and trendy. Laughter spilled from the table of media majors in the corner.

Karina sat across from Y/N, legs crossed, one hand holding her iced Americano like it was a prop and not a drink. She looked flawless. Effortless. A walking billboard for untouchable.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat, picking at the edge of her tray.

She’d forgotten what this part felt like.

Fake dating Karina had started as a power play. She was supposed to be the shieldthe buffer. Now? It felt more like sitting beneath a spotlight.

Everyone looked.

Some smiled. Others whispered.

Y/N hated both.

“I should’ve brought my hoodie,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

Karina raised a brow, sipping her coffee. “Why?”

Y/N gestured vaguely at the table beside them. “Because they’re staring like I’m a glitch in the simulation.”

Karina glanced sideways without turning her head, then shrugged. “They’re staring because you’re hot. And they’re confused why someone like you puts up with someone like me.”

Y/N blinked. “Is that a joke?”

Karina smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Half.”

And just like that, the atmosphere shiftedlike something invisible had tightened between them.

Y/N cleared her throat. “You don’t believe that.”

Karina leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice quiet. “I think people look at us and assume you’re a rebound. Or a distraction. I think you think that too.”

Y/N flinched. “That’s not”

“Isn’t it?” Karina tilted her head, still too calm. “Every time someone looks at you too long, you shrink. You act like you don’t belong next to me. Like you’re waiting for me to change my mind.”

“I’m not.”

Karina’s gaze sharpened. “Then why do you flinch every time someone calls me your girlfriend?”

Y/N’s breath caught.

Her tray suddenly felt very far away. Like the entire room had gone quiet even though the noise hadn’t dropped at all.

She looked down. “Because I don’t know what we are.”

Karina’s face didn’t move. Her voice, when she spoke, was still and even. But there was something jagged underneath it now.

“So the moment the label gets too real, you run?”

“It’s not that simple”

“It is that simple,” Karina said, suddenly leaning closer. “I’ve been here. Day in, day out. Through every 3 a.m. breakdown. Through your nightmares, your silences, your spirals. But the second someone else sees us and calls it what it is, you’re the one who disappears.”

Y/N swallowed hard. Her pulse was loud in her ears. “You said this was fake.”

“Yeah. I did. Back then.”

“And now?”

Karina stared at her, eyes burning with something that looked too close to heartbreak.

“Now I don’t know what we are either. But I do know what we’re not. We’re not fake anymore. We haven’t been for a long time.”

Y/N gritted her teeth, trying not to snap. “It’s not fair to spring this on me in the middle of the fucking dining hall.”

Karina let out a dry laugh and stood, grabbing her coffee. “You think I’m the one springing something on you? You’ve been springing doubt on me every goddamn day since this started.”

Y/N stood too, barely registering the scraping of her chair. “Because I’m trying not to mess this up!”

Karina stopped short, blinking.

There it was loud. Public. Honest.

Y/N felt her chest heave.

Karina stared at her for a moment. Then she said, quiet but cutting:

“Trying not to mess it up doesn’t mean anything if you keep acting like you already have.”

Y/N’s world tilted. Just a little. Just enough.

Because those words hit deeper than they should have.

It wasn’t an insult. It wasn’t even cruel.

It was true and Karina had said it like she wasn’t even mad.

Like she was just tired.

They didn’t speak again until they got back to the apartment.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Y/N dropped her keys onto the table with more force than necessary. “You really think I’m the problem here?”

“No,” Karina said from across the room, kicking off her boots. “I think your trauma is. But you keep handing it a megaphone and letting it answer for you.”

That stopped her cold.

Karina didn’t even look sorry.

“I’m not your enemy, Y/N,” she added, softer now. “But if you keep fighting me like I am, you’re going to make me one.”

Y/N’s throat closed.

Something in her wanted to shout. Scream. Defend herself.

But louder than that was the sound of her own heartbeat. And the truth she couldn’t outrun anymore:

She kept waiting for Karina to leave.

And every time she didn’t, it only made her more afraid.

Then

The last time someone had promised to stay, they’d left two weeks later without saying goodbye.

Her mom. A suitcase. The front door slamming one final time.

Y/N had been seventeen.

She still remembered the empty chair at the dinner table. The echo of footsteps down a hallway that never came back.

Now

Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, voice quiet and hoarse. “I’m scared, Karina.”

Karina looked up. Not triumphant. Not smug. Just steady.

“Of me?”

Y/N shook her head, slow and miserable. “Of me ruining this. Of never being able to not be scared.”

Karina crossed the room then, closing the space between them.

“You will be scared,” she said gently. “You’ll question everything. You’ll have bad days. But if you keep pushing me away every time fear shows up, you won’t leave me room to choose you.”

Y/N’s eyes stung.

And this time, when Karina reached for her handshe didn’t pull away.

The apartment had never felt this still.
Not peaceful. Not calm.
Just… paused. Like something had come undone, and now everything was waiting for permission to move again.

Karina sat in the dim light of the living room, back pressed into the corner of the couch, legs curled beneath her. Her phone buzzed once. Then again. She didn’t check it.

Some part of her wanted to get up, walk into the bedroom, and fix it the way she always didsoft words, gentle touches, a carefully controlled vulnerability she only ever offered Y/N.
But tonight felt different.

Not because the fight had been worse.
But because it had scraped too close to the places she tried hardest to hide.

The things Y/N had said… Karina wasn’t angry. Not really.
She was just tired.

Tired of reaching for someone who kept bracing for the fall.

Then

Karina was seven the first time she understood silence as a weapon.

Her mother had forgotten to come home for her birthday. A dinner reservation was missed, the cake untouched on the counter. She’d cried just a little curled on the marble steps in her new dress.

When her mother finally returned, hours later, she said only:

“You’ll learn not to expect too much from people. It’s better that way.”

After that, Karina stopped expecting anything at all.

She became what her parents wanted a girl who didn’t need reminding to sit up straight at fundraisers, who could make adults laugh without being precocious. She got praise, attention, envy.

But never love. Not the kind that was soft. Not the kind that stayed.

By the time she hit high school, she'd learned how to sculpt herself into a force. The mean girl. The untouchable. The one people feared but still wanted.

That girl never cried.
That girl never needed.
That girl won everything except softness.

And when she met Y/N… she didn’t think softness was something she’d ever want.
Until she did.

Now

The bedroom door hadn’t opened in hours.

Karina had stopped pretending to do thingsshe wasn’t on her phone, wasn’t reading. She just waited, still and quiet, staring at the faint outline of light under the door like it was the only sign that Y/N was still here.

When it finally creaked open, Karina didn’t move.
She didn’t look up until she heard the tentative sound of bare feet on the wood.

Y/N stood in the hallway, hoodie sleeves pushed over her palms, eyes rimmed red. She looked more like a kid than Karina had ever seen her.

And something about thatabout seeing the girl underneath all the layersmade her heart break in a new kind of way.

“…Hi,” Karina said softly.

Y/N nodded, barely. She made her way to the couch and sat a cushion away. Not close enough to touch. Not far enough to walk away.

“I didn’t come out to fight,” she said, voice small.

Karina shook her head. “Me either.”

Silence settled like dust between them. Familiar. Heavy.

Karina glanced over, tried to read the quiet tension in Y/N’s shoulders. “You’re still angry,” she said. Not a question.

Y/N didn’t deny it. But her voice was rough when she answered. “Not at you. Not really.”

Karina looked at her for a long time.

“You get angry at yourself a lot.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched. “Yeah. Well. You make it hard not to.”

That surprised a laugh out of Karina. A bitter one. “Thanks?”

“No, I mean” Y/N looked over, eyes tired but honest. “You’re… you. You say what you feel. You don’t back down. You fight for things. And I… I don’t even know how to receive that half the time without feeling like I’m breaking something.”

Karina’s chest tightened. “You’re not breaking anything.”

“Feels like I am.”

Karina hesitated.

Then said, voice low, “Do you want to know why I can say all those things so easily?”

Y/N didn’t answer, but she didn’t look away.

So Karina took a breath.

“I was raised to perform. My family’s whole world was image. Status. You only speak if it helps you win.” She looked down at her hands. “I didn’t grow up with love. I grew up with rewards.”

She glanced over, eyes sharper now. Not angryjust raw. “So when I found you, and I didn’t have to perform… it scared me. But I wanted it more than anything.”

Y/N swallowed thickly.

Karina leaned in slightly. “I know I’m not easy either. I know I come off like I have it together. But the truth is… when you start pulling away from me, I don’t get mad. I panic. Because I don’t know how to be soft without fearing it’ll be used against me.”

Y/N looked like she wanted to argue. But she didn’t.

Karina reached out, brushing their fingers together. “I know you think you ruin things by needing too much. But that’s not what ruins us. What ruins us is when you don’t let me need you too.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

Karina shifted closer. “I chose this. You. Not some version of you that never cries or gets overwhelmed or freaks out at 3AM. I chose this you. All of you.”

“But why?” Y/N whispered. “Why would you choose something so… messy?”

Karina smiled. Not wide. Not pretty. Just real.
“Because it finally feels like something real chose me back.”

They sat there for a while, quiet againbut this time, not lost in it. Just… resting inside it.

Eventually, Y/N shifted. Her hand reached out, brushing against Karina’s thigh. A small gesture. But enough.

Karina covered it with her own.

No grand apology. No full reconciliation yet. But something loosened.

The silence between us wasn’t angry anymore.

Not like last nightwhen every word had been sharp, when Karina had said something that cracked me wide open and made it impossible to hide behind my usual self-hate.

Today, it was quieter. Not peaceful, exactly. But quieter.

The kind of silence that follows something honest.

I woke up before her. My head heavy on the pillow we’d ended up sharing sometime in the night. Her arm was still around me, like even in sleep, she hadn’t let go.

That... did something to me.

I didn’t move. Didn’t dare. Just watched the sunlight stretch across the floor like it was carefully testing the mood in the room, same as me.

She shifted eventually, groaning softly as she blinked herself awake.

Her first words, groggy and low, were, “You still here?”

I didn’t know if she meant physically or emotionally.

But I nodded anyway. “Yeah.”

Karina hummed, burying her face in my shoulder for a second before pulling back. She didn’t smile. But she didn’t pull away either.

And maybe that was enough.

We didn’t talk about the argument.

Not directly.

We made breakfast instead.

She flipped pancakes with more concentration than necessary, the sleeves of her sweatshirt shoved up to her elbows. Her hair was still messy from sleep, tied into some sort of half-hearted bun that kept slipping loose.

I leaned against the counter, holding two mugs of coffee like they were some kind of peace offering.

“I think I was seven when I decided pancakes were better than waffles,” I said out of nowhere.

She didn’t look up, just asked, “Why?”

“Waffles feel too perfect. Too organized. Like someone planned every little square. Pancakes... I dunno. They’re messy. They’re never the same shape. You kind of have to accept what you get.”

Karina glanced over at me, flipping the spatula in her hand. “So you relate to pancakes.”

“I am a pancake.”

She snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”

But when she handed me a plate, our fingers brushed, and neither of us moved away too fast. It wasn’t a grand gesture. Just… contact. Quiet, deliberate.

Something grounding.

We ended up on the couch, legs tangled under a shared blanket. The TV was playing something we weren’t paying attention to. Background noise.

She was scrolling her phone lazily when she asked, “Can I show you something stupid?”

I looked over. “Always.”

She turned the screen toward me. It was a dumb meme. Something about astrology and emotionally unavailable water signs. Probably a subtweet about me, if she was being honest.

But I laughed anyway. And when I did, something shifted.

Her eyes softened in that barely-there way. She reached over and traced her thumb along my jaw, like she was checking if I was real.

“You look lighter,” she said.

I shrugged. “I don’t feel lighter.”

“You don’t have to. Just… don’t disappear again.”

I blinked. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” Her voice was quiet. “That’s what scares me.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Not yet.

So I leaned in until my head rested on her shoulder. Her arm came around me without hesitation, pulling me close.

For a while, that was enough.

Later, we cleaned up the kitchen. She rinsed plates, and I dried them, like some old married couple who’d figured out the rhythm of silence without making it cold.

“I was an accident,” I blurted suddenly, towel still in hand.

Karina froze mid-rinse. “What?”

“My mom didn’t want a kid. My dad didn’t stick around. I think I was more of a consequence than anything else.” I swallowed. “I just... grew up always trying not to be a burden. Always wondering when someone would finally get tired of pretending I wasn’t.”

Karina didn’t say anything right away.

Then she reached over, turned the water off, and dried her hands. Walked over until she was standing right in front of me, arms crossed gently over her chest like she was holding her own heart still.

“You’re not a burden, Y/N. And I’m not pretending.”

I nodded once. Too fast. My throat was tight.

She stepped closer.

“I grew up in a house where love came with strings,” she said, voice soft. “Where being good enough meant being exactly what they needed, when they needed it. Smile like this, speak like that, don’t ever cry in public. Love was a currency, not a comfort.”

She reached up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “But this? With you? This is the only real thing I’ve ever chosen for myself.”

My heart cracked open. Again.

I didn’t say anything.

I just stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her. Held her like maybe we could start rewriting the rules we were taught.

She kissed my temple. Soft. Familiar.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t brace for impact.

Later That Night

We sat on the floor, back against the couch, sharing a bag of chips and arguing over which K-drama couple had better chemistry.

Karina tossed a chip at me when I dissed her favorite.

“You’re just wrong. Objectively,” she said.

I grinned. “You’re just in denial.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll stop letting you use me as a space heater.”

I scoffed, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it tighter around both of us. “Too late. You’re trapped.”

She laughed, leaning her head on my shoulder. “You’re annoying.”

I kissed the top of her hair. “You like me anyway.”

Her hand found mine under the blanket. Fingers laced, warm and easy.

And just like that, we were okay.

Still healing. Still trying.

But okay.

taglist [OPEN] : @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @goofymickeyr @yuyuy90 @dgybbvrcsacgswtcbkyv @spidrgamer @takuhg

[gottencents]

I just found this on Pinterest and something about it is funny, Facebook quotes are something else

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[gottencents]

LIKE the urge to do that 😭🙏🏻

trust its for the better make ur followers yearn for a update 😁

[gottencents]

twin I'm too lazy to move from the bed

pull a me and not update for a month twin it helps everything 😭🙏

[fellominaarcher]

THE DEVIL'S BRIDE ── JENNIE

02. So It Begins

SYNOPSIS:

» » when Y/N discovers her three-year-old music project has suddenly gone viral overnight, she realizes this is no coincidence. Jennie’s "wedding gift" has arrived… and so has the beginning of their deal.

» » pairing: devil!Jennie x artist!fem!reader

» » genre: supernatural horror-romance, dark comedy & psychological thriller

» » what's in here: sexual activity references, occasional ritual references & please let me know if there's more

How long had it been since the ritual?

Since those faceless creatures dragged her down into the thick, suffocating black water, pushing her deeper until she couldn’t feel her own body anymore. Since she whispered that ancient vow that tasted like blood and ash on her tongue. Since Jennie’s voice—strangely soft, almost human, had reached her ears, saying:

“It’s okay. You did good.”

“Now let’s get you home.”

Now... Y/N stirred beneath the familiar weight of her thick blanket. Her body sank into the mattress with comforting resistance. The warmth, the softness, it felt... normal. Human. Her fingers twitched as she felt the fabric. Y/N sighed softly at the feeling.

Her eyes flickered open, blurry at first, and she let out a quiet whine. She was in her own bed. She knew that blanket. Knew the scent. Knew the way the sheets bunched near the edge. This was her bedroom. Her penthouse. Her life. Reality.

With a groggy groan, she rolled to her side and saw a figure perched casually on her desk, one leg crossed over the other, swinging slightly.

As her vision adjusted, it clicked... Jennie.

Satan’s daughter. Wife. Problem.

Sitting like she owned the place—which, technically, she might now. Hope not.

Consummation.

That word echoed violently in Y/N’s head, dragging her bolt upright. Her back smacked into the tall headboard as her heart started to pound.

What the hell actually happened?

Jennie, all smug and radiant, offered a chipper little wave. “Good morning, doggie!” she chirped. “It’s only 6 in the—”

“What did you do to me while I was out?!”

Y/N snapped before Jennie could finish, voice high and accusatory. Her tone dripped with panic, real panic, not just the kind you joke about.

Because this was a literal demon sitting in her room and she had passed out, entirely vulnerable, post-ritual.

Jennie’s response was immediate and loud, a grunt that bordered on theatrical. She rolled her eyes hard, hopping off the desk—annoyed by the human before her.

“Oh, swear that I didn’t know you’d be this miserable,” she groaned. Her tone oozed sarcasm.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “I think I’m allowed to panic! Are you not the daughter of Satan himself?!” she gestured to Jennie, as if to show the point of the whole thing.

Jennie looked personally offended. “NO!” she snapped, hands flying up in exasperation.

She tossed her head, black hair falling like silk over her shoulder. Her expression soured in annoyance.

“Yes... consummation is part of the ritual, yes, but we don’t just do it while you're unconscious, you little idiot. Consent, doggie. Ever heard of it?” Jennie let out another dramatic sigh and turned around, facing away from the bed, arms still crossed.

Y/N stared at her, stunned silent for a moment. The absurdity of it all was making her dizzy again. “Wait... so you didn’t...?” she kept her gaze on Jennie, a little hesitant to look at her.

“No,” Jennie said flatly.

Y/N blinked. “And the... ritual still worked?”

Jennie turned her head slightly, her voice dry. “Obviously. We’re bound. Vow-bound. Officially soul-married. You’re mine, I’m yours. Blah blah blah. Romantic, isn’t it?” she raised a brow, staring straight at Y/N's face.

A beat of silence.

Then Y/N flopped back onto the bed and let out a strangled groan into her blanket. She could feel Jennie smiling behind her.

“Anyway,” Jennie added casually, “we will need to handle the consummation part eventually. It’s the final step for locking the bond... you know, metaphysically.”

Y/N poked her head out of the blanket, face hot. “Why are you saying that so casually?”

Jennie shrugged. “Why are you being so dramatic about something you literally offered your soul for?”

Touché. Y/N sighed, dragging a hand down her face. Give the poor flopping artist a 10, she'd need a coffee to detox herself from her crazy choice.

Y/N stepped out of her bedroom, dragging her feet across the hallway as her fingers massaged her temple. A muttered curse slipped under her breath. She had no idea how to navigate this twisted new reality—let alone what the day ahead had in store.

“Oh, I forgot about that,” she grumbled, pausing at the threshold of her living room.

Married to the devil? What the hell was she supposed to do now? Eat brunch?

The scene looked like the aftermath of a séance hosted by someone halfway drunk and fully insane.

Dried blood dotted the otherwise pristine marble floor. Unlit candles—half-melted and crooked—lined a winding path from her studio to the wide-open balcony door. A half-empty bottle of Merlot sat abandoned on the coffee table. The very door through which Jennie had first materialized last night still swung lazily in the morning breeze.

Y/N’s gaze fell to the floor, her memory flashing back—those red lips curled into a smirk, those predatory cat eyes that met hers like they already owned her.

She remembered the way Jennie had looked at her, like a game. It made Y/N want to slap that smug expression clean off her face. Violently.

“Yikes. What a mess...” Jennie’s voice, soft and teasing, pulled her out of the memory.

The devil stood nearby, arms crossed, feigning disgust as she surveyed the room. But her eyes were glinting with amusement, she's enjoying the chaos and even more so, Y/N’s reaction to it.

“I, too, can see such a mess,” Y/N said flatly, eyes narrowing as she turned away from the devil-wife.

Jennie followed behind her, slow and deliberate, like a cat toying with its mouse. “Most wives are happy when they're newly married,” she said airily, circling like she was tasting the air. “Are you an exception?”

Y/N muttered something incoherent and stepped over the mess, walking to the coffee table where her phone sat waiting. She grabbed it and unlocked it with a lazy swipe.

“Hmm, yeah,” she said without looking up. “I’m the exception.”

“Boring,” Jennie huffed behind her.

The phone’s screen lit up, casting a pale glow on Y/N’s face as she unlocked it. She went to check her texts, maybe for something normal, something grounding but a new notification caught her eye.

It was a link. Sent by a friend.

“Get Going Easy LP performed by NCT 127, produced by Dem Jointz, Y/N, KENZO and more is currently blowing up again—three years after its release.”

Y/N blinked, stunned. She tapped the article with a trembling finger. She read on:

“Multiple tracks from the album are going viral after popular creators started using them in TikTok trends. Fans are rediscovering the producers behind the songs, including Y/N, whose work is being praised by both longtime and new listeners...”

The article went on to list fan comments. Some were shouting her out directly, saying things like “Y/N needs to drop something new!!” or “Where’s she been? She used to run this industry.”

Y/N’s breath caught. She stared at the screen, wide-eyed. It happened overnight. Her work. Her sound. Her name is back in circulation. Back in the charts. Just like that.

The same night Jennie appeared. The same night she said yes to the devil.

She slowly turned around, phone still in hand, finger frozen mid-scroll. “You... did you...?” Y/N’s voice cracked, stunned. Her index finger hovered toward Jennie like it was pointing at a loaded gun.

Jennie didn’t even try to deny it.

She beamed, almost proud. “A wedding gift,” she said sweetly, hands clasped behind her back. “From me to my human wife~”

She twirled on the spot like she was announcing her own coronation. It was sickeningly cute. And very clearly intentional.

This was the reason Y/N had summoned her in the first place. To revive her career. To reignite the spark that had all but burned out in the industry’s ruthless machine.

She wanted her name back in people’s mouths. On records. In meetings. She wanted in again. She hadn’t just sold her soul. She married the devil.

A prettier word. A more intimate contract. And Satan, apparently, was too lazy to handle it himself—so his daughter came instead. How... efficient.

Y/N swallowed hard, lowering her phone. This had better be worth it.

“Where are you headed?” Jennie’s voice cut through the hum of traffic and the rhythm of passing footsteps, louder than necessary like she wanted everyone within a two-block radius to know she was talking to Y/N.

They’d just exited the penthouse gates. Jennie followed behind Y/N like an overly affectionate cat or more accurately, a predator who’d grown fond of keeping its prey in sight.

The morning had slipped away. It was 10:15 a.m., a mere two hours before noon, and Y/N’s sudden career resurrection had her buzzing. A rare, giddy kind of productive.

She adjusted the strap of her designer bag and glanced at her devil-wife. “To the supermarket,” she said, with a small smile that was far too genuine for Jennie’s taste.

Jennie didn’t reply immediately. She just nodded, mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as her gaze slid slowly over Y/N from head to toe, like she was inspecting a specimen before deciding whether it was worth dissecting.

Y/N started walking. Jennie lagged for a moment, then tilted her head up to the sky. The clouds had turned a heavy, indifferent grey. A soft wind tugged at her hair. So much for a sunny day, she thought. Probably going to rain. Or hail. Or spontaneously combust.

By the time they reached the cereal aisle, the store was quiet. Weekday mornings did that—only retirees, night-shift survivors and people with questionable sleep schedules came grocery shopping now.

Jennie leaned against the shelf, arms crossed, watching Y/N read the back of a cereal box. The devil’s gaze was sharp, unwavering.

Y/N didn’t look up from the cereal box she was reading. “Are you always this attentive,” she asked, “or am I just lucky?”

Jennie arched an eyebrow, as if delighted to be acknowledged at last. “Oh, puppy, don’t flatter yourself. I’m dutiful. I’m just being a good wife. Kind enough to join you in… what do humans call this?” She made an exaggerated ‘thinking’ face.

Then her face lit up in mock revelation. “Ah! Charity. That’s it...” her voice rose with exaggerated delight, earning a quick side-eye from an old man two aisles over.

Y/N, unimpressed, nodded as if she’d just received the most convincing answer in the world. “You’re like the first super-attentive lover I’ve ever had. Wow. I really didn’t marry wrong,” she deadpanned, dropping the cereal box into the cart.

Jennie’s grin widened. “Well, you already know—” She spread her hands dramatically. “I’m Jennie. The devil. And your wife.” the last word came out dripping with theatrical pride—clearly fake.

Y/N snorted under her breath.

Jennie beamed, showing teeth, her brows wiggling mischievously. The fluorescent lights above them flickered once, twice like they were responding to her mood.

Y/N glanced up at the blinking fixtures, mildly impressed. “Neat trick,” she said.

Then the night came like the river filling in.

The city, of course, had no bedtime. Cold wind snuck down streets and brushed against bare skin like an uninvited hand. Above, a half crescent moon peeked from behind clouds, throwing a thin sliver of light across the skyline.

Up in Y/N’s penthouse, the world felt warmer—soft amber lighting casting shadows that hinted at intimacy or at least expensive taste.

Jennie sat sprawled on the couch like she owned the place (which, in a soul-selling sense, she probably did). Every so often she glanced at Y/N, then at some random book she’d plucked from Y/N’s shelves. She wasn’t really reading, just killing time and waiting to see if her new wife would crumble under the weight of her presence.

Humans usually did. They begged for things, tried to strike more deals, offered sacrifices they couldn’t name without trembling. That wasn’t marriage, that was business. And business was boring.

But this one? This one was desperate enough to dig up articles, slice her own palm and marry the Devil just to jumpstart a dying career. Jennie had been bored, sure, but she wasn’t immune to entertainment.

If Satan himself had answered that pitiful plea, he might’ve just patted Y/N on the head and told her to drink some water.

“I’m happy to be working with the agency again. I’m also looking forward to contributing to the songwriting. Titled…” Y/N glanced at her notes, “…Delirium, right?”

Her voice came through clear on the Zoom call. Several heads nodded in their little squares, and the meeting rolled on. The topic: her first big project back in the music scene, Y/N as lead composer and lead songwriter.

It had been less than twenty-four hours since she’d married the Devil in Hell and already she was relevant again.

The meeting wrapped after two hours of business and polite industry gossip. Y/N felt… high. Not on drugs, but on attention, opportunity, and the sweet taste of not being irrelevant. She almost felt like a nepo baby. Almost. In reality, her sudden boost came courtesy of the smug devil currently lounging in her living room.

And no, they still hadn’t completed the final step of the marriage ritual-slash-soul sale.

Consummation. Sex.

Y/N disconnected her earbuds and shut her laptop. Her legs were numb from sitting on the floor, and she groaned as she stood, stretching until her back cracked. She grinned, almost laughed as she turned toward the couch.

She wandered over to the couch, where Jennie had been watching her in that unnerving, unblinking way all evening. Jennie leaned back as Y/N approached, lips curling into a smirk. The sight of Y/N’s stupidly satisfied expression almost made her roll her eyes and would actually repeat it.

“Huh. The puppy’s so happy,” Jennie said, her tone dripping with exaggerated disgust.

“First of all—” Y/N stuck her tongue out in retaliation, “second of all, I am happy, Jennie.”

Jennie stood, shaking her head. “M’kay. But I’m leaving for the night.” she sneered at the human, almost giving her a dirty look.

She moved toward the balcony and Y/N followed, because what kind of host lets the Devil find her own way out?

“That’s good,” Y/N replied dryly. “Felt like you’ve been burning a hole in the back of my head all day.”

Jennie paused, giving her a flat smile. “You do realize I could literally do that, right?” She pointed at Y/N like she was seriously considering it.

Y/N nodded, pretending to be impressed. “Wow.”

Something about Jennie made it impossible not to talk back. Maybe it was the constant teasing, the nicknames: doggie, puppy. Or maybe it was the smug glint in her eyes every time Y/N dared to sass her.

Jennie stepped backward toward the balcony doors, her smirk widening. The glass doors slid open on their own, letting in the cool night air.

She tilted her head, voice dipping low. “Don’t forget, darling… there’s still one thing left for us to do.”

And before Y/N could snap back, Jennie dissolved into the night, her body dissipated into black smoke, curling and twisting before disappearing entirely. The smell of something dark and sweet lingered in the air.

Y/N blinked at the empty balcony. “Yeah,” she muttered. “I’m definitely getting a lock for that door.”

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[gottencents]

THIS IS PEAKKKK CANT WAIT FOR NEXT CHAPTER TWINNN 🫶