#yoo jimin x fem reader

[bytemee]

SUPER RICH KIDS — yu jimin.

"super rich kids with nothin' but loose ends."

synopsis. stuck on a miserable family vacation with the same rich elites you’ve spent your whole life trying to escape, you somehow become karina’s new favorite distraction—whether as her escape or just her latest source of entertainment. either way, trouble seems to follow wherever she goes, and you’re starting to wonder if getting caught up in it is a mistake… or exactly what you need.

pairing. rich!girlkarina x rich!girl!reader

warning(s). language, dysfunctional family (they're rich vro), drinking, impulsive/reckless behavior, kissing (OH EM GEE.), and let me know if there's more.

words. 3.4k

authors note. i got a lot of reqs to work on, but chat...im actually gonna go ghost for a bit...wanted to feed u before i left. NOT FOR LONG JUST A BIT.

masterlist. navigation.

the night had started with forced smiles and expensive wine.

a business dinner, your father called it—an important meeting with the yu family about a potential merger, partnership, or investment—something that only mattered to men who measured their worth in profit margins. you were there for appearances, another polished accessory at the table, sitting pretty in an outfit that cost too much and shoes that made your feet ache.

karina yu, seated across from you, was similarly dressed up and looked just as uncomfortable. she was a year younger than you and, like you, was being trained to follow in her father's footsteps. the yu heir, your father liked to say.

"so polite." your mother would smile. "a proper young lady."

and she was. always so obedient, so docile. her eyes lingered on you a little too long every time you refilled your glass, every time you made a face at the bitter taste of wine, every time you raised your arm to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand—the way a boy would.

somewhere between dessert and your father's third whiskey, he made a comment. something about the way you dressed, the way you ate, the way you spoke. the words came out slurred, and your mother didn't say anything, but karina's eyes met yours in a flash of pity. you weren’t even sure what you said back. maybe you laughed. maybe you just took another sip. either way, by the time the dinner ended, you were in the midst of an argument, your father's face flushed with anger, your mother's lips drawn tight with disapproval.

"fuck you!" you'd spat, legs moving of their own accord. "you're such a fucking bastard!"

and then you saw it.

your father’s porsche, gleaming under the valet lights, parked at the front like a monument to his self-importance.

before you could think twice, you were slipping off your shoes and hurling one at the windshield. the crack of impact was louder than you expected, and you watched in a daze as a spiderweb of fissures spread across the glass.

“have you lost your mind?”

you went around the car, popping open the trunk before grabbing one of his sleek golf clubs and bringing it down over the hood; the first hit dented the hood. the second left a long, jagged scratch across the side. the third—

"stop! are you crazy?" your mother yelled.

you barely spared her a glance, breathless as you adjusted your sunglasses, heart pounding in your ears as you brought the club down again and again, watching as the car crumpled under the force of each blow. and when you finally ran out of breath, you looked up and saw the doorman staring. your mother, too, her face pale and expressionless. even your father, still standing by the front door, hadn't moved.

even the yu parents watched with thinly veiled horror.

and then there was karina.

standing just a few feet away, hands clasped in front of her, head tilted ever so slightly as the faintest ghost of a smirk curled at the corner of her lips.

three years later, you weren’t supposed to still think about that night.

but the problem with rich people was that they never let anything die. your father’s car had been replaced by the end of the week, the dinner party swept under the rug, your behavior excused as a rough patch in polite conversation. still, the whispers followed you through every gala, every charity event, every hushed conversation between wives who sipped champagne and smiled like they weren’t enjoying the gossip.

and unfortunately, karina's family, along with others, joined you on this godforsaken vacation, this trip of torture and misery. this was a chance for your parents to play recruiter, and they weren't the only ones.

you try to avoid her. really, you do.

you sit at opposite ends of the dinner table, sip champagne like it might actually make this tolerable, and politely nod at conversations about stock portfolios and summer homes in monaco. but the whole time, her gaze is like a brand. you can feel her eyes on you, burning a hole right through the back of your skull.

"she's still staring," you murmur at some point, leaning into your best friend's ear.

"who is?" he whispers back, turning his head ever so slightly to glance around the room.

you sigh and look back down at your plate, idly playing with the food on your plate. you're not hungry. you haven't been hungry for the last three days. it's a wonder you've managed to keep any of it down. "karina," you say. "she keeps—"

"karina?"

"yes," you hiss. "karina yu. has been staring at me nonstop for the past twenty minutes."

he pauses and looks at you, his eyes widening in understanding.

"oh, right," he says, and then his gaze shifts to your left, and he raises a hand in greeting. "hey," he says, and when you glance up, you see her waving back.

you groan inwardly, and she must hear because the next moment, her gaze is on you again. you meet her stare and watch as she raises her wineglass in a small toast. "she's pretty," your best friend says.

you roll your eyes and look away. "i guess," you say.

she’s trouble, is what you really mean.

but you don’t say it, because then you’d have to explain. you’d have to explain the way she had stood there that night, watching you rip your father’s car apart like it was performance art, the way her lips had curled in approval.

you shift in your seat and pretend like the weight of her gaze doesn’t make your skin prickle. your best friend, ever oblivious, keeps sipping his champagne.

and then—she slides into the seat next to you.

she smells like jasmine, and her hair brushes against your cheek as she leans over to whisper in your ear. "you’re not even pretending to have fun," she says. when you turn your head, karina is right there, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she smiles at you.

you swallow thickly.

“i didn’t know i was supposed to be entertaining anyone,” you say.

she tilts her head. “that’s the thing about you. you always end up putting on a show anyway.”

your grip tightens around your fork. “what do you want?”

her lips press together like she’s holding back a laugh. “a little company.”

“i’m busy.”

“with what?”

you blink at her.

and karina smiles sweetly, cocking her head to one side. her hair spills over her shoulder in a glossy wave, and she tilts her chin up, just a little, her eyes dancing with challenge. she looks good like this—all sharp angles and smooth lines, her clothes tailored to perfection, accentuating every curve. you hate that you notice.

she licks her lips, and your stomach flips.

and just like that, you stupidly take the bait.

“fine,” you say, setting your napkin down with a sharp flick. “where are we going?”

karina grins, like she’s just won something.

the next thing you know, you’re in the driver's seat of some random convertible, the engine purring underneath you. it's not hers; it's yours, and it's not either of your parents’ because you both stole it from the hotel parking lot.

“you’re going to get us killed,” karina says, but she’s laughing, wind whipping through her hair as you speed down an empty road. you shoot her a grin, one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the radio until it lands on some old r&b song you barely remember.

“wouldn’t be the worst way to go,” you muse. “at least the headlines would be fun.”

she gasps, clutching her chest in mock horror. “tragic demise of two rich idiots—local community breathes sigh of relief.”

you bark out a laugh, the sound cutting through the wind, and you feel a sharp pang of relief when karina grins back, wide enough to show teeth. you almost miss the turn for the beach, and she yelps as you swerve onto a side street, tires squealing against the pavement. it's late, well past midnight, and the roads are deserted. you can't hear anything over the roar of the engine.

it's electrifying.

"this is the stupidest thing i've ever done," she says breathlessly, and you throw back your head and laugh.

"isn't it?" you say. "and we're only getting started."

karina grins, white teeth flashing in the dark, and then you're driving down the coastline, music blaring, windows rolled all the way down. the ocean air fills your lungs, and you feel lighter than you have in weeks, months—years, maybe.

the beach is empty when you finally pull up, the sand stretching out under the moonlight, waves crashing in the distance. you kill the engine, and the two of you sit there in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of the wind, the water, and your own breathing.

karina shifts beside you, tilting her head as she looks out toward the water. “it’s pretty,” she says, her voice soft.

you follow her gaze, watching as the waves roll in, cresting against the shore, leaving foamy trails in their wake. you nod absently.

"yeah."

you clear your throat and reach for the door handle. “come on.”

she follows without question, slipping off her heels as soon as her feet hit the sand. you do the same, relishing the way the cool grains shift beneath your toes. it feels good after being cooped up all day, stuck in stuffy rooms full of people you couldn’t care less about.

karina inhales sharply.

you turn to look at her, and she laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she walks past you toward the ocean. the breeze catches her dress, making it ripple around her hips, and you follow without thinking, drawn to her like a moth to flame.

karina takes a deep breath, then exhales long and slow. “god,” she mutters, rubbing a hand over her face. “i needed this.”

you smirk. “the break from pretending to be the perfect daughter?”

she huffs out a laugh, but there’s something wry in her smile. “something like that.”

there's an awkward pause where neither of you speaks. karina stares out at the ocean, and you stare at her, watching as her eyes grow distant and thoughtful.

“what are you thinking about?” you ask.

she hesitates, then glances at you. “that night.”

you don’t have to ask which one.

“ah,” you say, stretching your arms overhead. “and here i thought we were avoiding the past.”

“i think about it sometimes,” she admits. “the way you just did it. no second-guessing, no hesitation. you just let it all out.”

you scoff, kicking at the sand. “and look where it got me. my dad replaced the car, my mom pretended it never happened, and i’m still stuck in the same stupid cycle.” you shake your head and run a hand through your hair. "all i did was make things worse."

karina turns to look at you, her eyes sharp as she studies you.

"but you felt better afterward, didn't you?" she asks softly.

you glance away, chewing on your bottom lip as you consider the question. you did feel better. for a while, anyway. but the feeling faded quickly enough. your parents were pissed, and they made sure to remind you how disappointed they were and how embarrassing it was to have their daughter act like that.

"i guess," you finally say.

karina hums thoughtfully, then takes a step closer to you. "would you ever do something like that again?"

you raise an eyebrow. "why? planning on watching again?"

she doesn't flinch. "maybe."

you snort and shake your head, “you liked it, didn’t you?”

and she smiles.

“i like when people stop pretending.”

and there it is—the real reason she keeps following you around, why she keeps pushing you, why she keeps testing you. it's not because she likes you; it's because she's curious. she wants to see how far you'll go, how much it'll take before you crack. you wonder if she's always been like this, if her family's wealth and influence have made her so bored and jaded that she'll do anything for entertainment.

you don't know what possesses you to take a step forward.

but karina doesn’t move away, doesn't even blink; her gaze flicks upward, meeting your eyes. you're taller than her by a few inches, and she has to tilt her chin up slightly to maintain eye contact, and for a moment, you wonder if she's going to kiss you. but instead, she reaches out and touches your cheek. her fingers are warm against your skin, and you swallow thickly as she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

her thumb lingers near your jaw. "i'm hungry."

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden change of topic. "what?"

karina grins and lets her hand fall back to her side. "i said i'm hungry," she repeats, then nods toward the beach. "we should get some food."

you open your mouth to respond, but she's already walking away, headed toward the car, her dress billowing out behind her.

you take a deep breath.

then another.

and another.

and then you follow, because what else are you supposed to do?

an hour later, you were sprawled across the king-sized bed of a five-star hotel that you booked just for tonight with your dad's black card, karina curled up beside you in an oversized robe, giggling into her hand as you held the room’s phone to your ear.

you weren’t sure exactly what time it was, but you didn't care, forcing your voice to be deeper, which was totally not believable and made you sound like a fucking idiot.

"sir," the poor receptionist stammered, "the kitchen is closed—"

"do you know who i am?" you interrupted, deepening your voice even more as you mimicked your father’s business tone. "i could have this entire establishment shut down by morning. now, i want a steak, medium rare, and a bottle of your best wine on the table within the hour."

the line went quiet for a moment, and you could hear typing in the background. karina muffled her laughter against your shoulder before composing herself just enough to put on her best impression of your mother. "and do not forget the crème brûlée," she added, her voice sickly sweet. "my husband simply must have his dessert."

there was another long pause on the other end.

"…right away, sir," the receptionist finally said, defeated.

the moment you hung up, karina lost it, burying her face in the sheets as she laughed. you couldn’t help but grin, watching the way she absolutely delighted in your childish antics, how she encouraged them with her own impulsive ideas. it felt like a dream, something so outside the realm of reality that it was almost absurd. and yet, there you were, playing make-believe like children, stealing bottles of alcohol and ordering room service at 2 am.

"this is crazy," karina said between giggles, looking up at you with shining eyes. "absolutely insane."

you raised an eyebrow. "crazy enough to be fun?"

she blinked at you for a second before smiling. "yes."

you grinned. "good."

the room service arrives anyway (turns out, rich people always get what they want), and karina laughs when the waiter leaves, eyeing the table full of food. she looks like a kid on christmas morning, and you can't help but smile as she takes in all the options. the two of you sit side by side at the table, digging into the assortment of food.

it's probably the most delicious meal you've ever eaten.

karina laughs, taking a sip from her glass of wine as she watches you devour the steak. you try to ignore the way your stomach twists when she smiles at you, but it's hard not to notice the warmth spreading through your chest every time she looks your way. it makes your cheeks flush, and you're suddenly grateful that the lights are dim enough to hide it.

"i can't remember the last time i ate this much," you mumble around a mouthful of food.

"me neither," she admits. "i think i might explode."

"same," you say.

she leans back in her chair, swirling the wine in her glass before bringing it up to her lips. "what are we going to do tomorrow?" she asks.

you shrug. "dunno."

karina sets her glass down and watches you for a moment; the way she studies you makes your breath catch, and you quickly look away, suddenly too aware of how close you're sitting. her knee brushes against yours under the table, a light touch that makes your heart beat faster than it should.

"you've got some sauce—" she gestures vaguely toward your face.

you reach up to wipe it away, but she tuts, shaking her head. "no, here."

before you can react, she leans in, her thumb brushing against the corner of your lips, wiping away the sauce with a soft sweep. your skin burns where she touches you, and your gaze flickers up to meet hers. she smiles slightly, and your breath catches when her thumb lingers on your lip before she pulls away.

"there," she murmurs, licking the sauce off her finger, and oh god—your pulse spikes, and your whole body flushes.

you clear your throat and try to ignore the way the room suddenly feels warmer than before. it's too hot, and your clothes feel tight around your chest. you can't breathe. karina's gaze burns into you, and you swallow hard, trying not to squirm under her scrutiny.

"are you okay?" she asks.

"fine," you manage, reaching for the bottle of wine. your hands shake slightly as you pour yourself a glass, and when you glance back at karina, her eyes are still on you, studying you like you're a 400-page textbook.

you take a large sip.

"so," she says slowly, resting her chin in her palm, "have you ever had a girlfriend?"

you choke on the wine.

karina watches as you splutter and cough, her expression amused as you struggle to catch your breath. when you finally manage to compose yourself, she raises an eyebrow expectantly.

"well?"

"what?"

she smiles, "or a boyfriend? whichever one floats your boat."

"uh…" you trail off, trying to think.

"i haven't either," she says helpfully.

your face burns, and you take another sip of wine, hoping the alcohol will ease the sudden tension in your shoulders. "i haven't really thought about it," you admit.

"really?" she tilts her head curiously. "not even once?"

you shrug, picking at a loose thread on the hem of your shirt.

"okay," she says, and then she slides off her chair and moves around the table, standing next to you. you turn, startled, and she's right there, leaning against the armrest of your seat, her eyes dark as she stares at you.

"kiss me," she says.

your heart skips a beat.

"what?"

"you heard me," she says, smiling a little as she runs a finger along the edge of the table. "kiss me."

"i can't."

"why not?"

"because—" you start and then stop, not sure how to explain why this is a terrible idea. because your family will kill me? because my parents will disown me?

karina's smile widens.

"if you won't, i will."

you blink. "what?"

"i said," she says slowly, "if you won't, then i will."

she steps closer, her gaze locked onto yours. your breath hitches, and you lean back instinctively, but her hand finds your thigh, squeezing gently. she smells like jasmine, and her skin feels warm where it brushes against yours.

"kiss me," she murmurs, eyes dancing with challenge.

you swallow hard.

"okay," you say, your voice hoarse.

her smile widens, and she leans forward, her lips brushing against yours. it's soft at first, tentative, and then her hand slides up your thigh, and your brain short-circuits. she's gentle but persistent, coaxing you open, her tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you gasp. you let her in, tasting wine and strawberries and something sweeter.

your mind goes blank.

when you pull apart, her eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide. her lips are swollen and pink, and she licks them slowly, savoring the taste. she smiles at you, a lazy, satisfied grin.

"well?" she asks.

your heart pounds wildly in your chest.

"good," you croak.

karina laughs.

you wake up with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily. there's no one next to you, just an empty space where a person should be. the sheets are still warm.

karina left a note.

and a phone number.

call me when you want to have fun again. - karina <3

[dearjiwon]

nerd karina fingering you while looking at you with puppy eyes ❤️ you being her first girlfriend and her first time at everything. Her looking at you to see your reactions, fucking you but in a cute way 💕

PROLOUGE: karina’s never fucked anyone before. so she plans to make her first special for you.

warnings: fingering, virgin!karina

karina’s fingers are trembling when she slides them into you for the first time. so careful, so slow, like she’s afraid she’ll hurt you if she moves too fast.

her glasses are slipping down the bridge of her nose and she doesn’t even fix them, too focused on the way your breath catches when she finally pushes her fingers in you.

her lips are parted, her cheeks flushed pink, and she’s looking up at you with the softest eyes, voice barely above a whisper when she says, “does that feel good? am i doing okay?”

and it’s her first time. with a girl. with anyone. she’s never touched anyone like this before.

never had anyone whimpering under her, legs spread and cunt clenching around her fingers, and she’s so overwhelmed she’s practically dripping through her own panties.

she keeps her fingers curled just right, moving slowly in and out while her thumb brushes over your clit in these soft, unsure circles.

and god she’s so messy already. her hand is soaked, your slick dripping down her wrist, her thighs rubbing together as she tries so hard not to moan every time you do. but she can’t help it.

her breath hitches every time you gasp her name, every time your hips rock up into her hand, every time you whine “karina.. baby, don’t stop…”

and she doesn’t. she can’t. she just nods and keeps going, eyes locked on yours like she’s desperate to see every reaction you give her.

her fingers are small, but they hit just right. shaky at first, but learning fast, learning you, watching your thighs tremble and your stomach clench and the way your lips part when she curls them just a little deeper.

and when you moan loud and grab at her wrist, she gasps and nearly comes on the spot, pussy clenching around nothing, whispering “d-did i make you feel that good?” like she can’t believe this is real.

she fingers you slow at first, but the wetter you get, the needier she becomes—fingers speeding up, your slick making these loud, wet sounds that make her thighs shake.

she leans down to kiss your neck, all breathless and dazed, whispering “you’re so pretty like this… i wanna make you cum for me, please baby, please…”

and when you finally do? when you cum hard around her fingers with a cry of her name and your back arching off the bed?

she whines, hips jerking, lips parted in awe like your orgasm is the only thing that matters in the world.

her fingers slow down but don’t stop, dragging it out, watching your body twitch and your legs shake as she kisses your chest and mumbles, “can i do it again? just once more? you’re so good, i wanna keep feeling you…”

because karina is sweet and shy and stuttering her way through her first time—but when it’s you?

she’s obsessed. and once she gets a taste, she doesn’t wanna stop.

[blossomcola]

Karina fucking you at night without your parents knowing 🙏 Karina being just an innocent friend in your parents' eyes, lol ❤️

She telling you to be quiet and be a good girl WHILE SHE FUCKS YOU WITH A GIANT STRAP ON byeee

pairing. dom!karina x sub!fem reader.

content warnings. corruption.

karina being your sweet best friend, the good, dedicated student who is a total angel with everyone and being a catholic who goes to church every bunday morning — of course, the role of a good girl would buy everyone’s confidence and no one would think that she is actually the opposite of what she shows! she knows what personality to use when she is surrounded by a certain group of people, managing to stay in character when it is not an easy task, but she makes it easy.

and your parents don’t suspect that she’s just a fake personality, of course not! karina has always shown herself to be the good girl who is a complete sweetheart and has no evil in that warm heart of hers, absolutely no one would think that she actually does that to be on good terms with everyone and not have to put up with the complaints of her strict parents! and of course it works because apparently no one has the slightest suspicion...

if only they knew that your friendship with karina is more than loyalty and affection, but more tension and certain suggestive moments where only you can feel that sexual tension... everyone thinks that they are just two best friends who trust each other since they have known each other since they were little, and it’s good that they think that because karina can do whatever she wants with you and no one would suspect! not even when she blatantly gropes you pretending to fix your clothes to look pretty and “impress some cute guy at church,” when she’s just waiting for the time to come home with you with the excuse of a sleepover that ends with her fucking you unconscious in bed <3 karina would always give a warm smile to your parents that always makes them believe that she is an exemplary friend for you, totally different from the karina who catches you in a mating press once you cross the door of your room and you are alone with her — she is not at all like what she shows to others, but she is a complete meanie to you and is always making fun of you the moment you get too restless or loud, probably saying that if you want your parents to find out that you are a cheap whore for her and she is capable of fucking you against your bedroom door or with the door open to be discovered, but you have to bring her back down to earth before she does something that’s likely to have consequences for the two of you...

[blissfulflw]

G!p sugar mommy rina marathon sex and cockwarming in the end 👉👈

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝑆𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒

Pairing- Yu Jimin (Karina) x fem reader

Genre- Smut

Word count- 4169

Warnings- 18+ interaction only, G!p Jimin, dom Jimin, age gap, marathon sex (multiple rounds), cockwarming, overstimulation, breeding kink, dirty talk, semi-public sex (apartment setting), body worship, NSFW

A/N: I just want to emphasise that CONSENT WAS THERE. In case I get cancelled!! 🤗 also I added font by accident again

You don’t hear the door open.

You feel it — the shift in the air, the low thud of expensive heels on marble, the silence that comes before the storm. A sharp contrast to the soft jazz still playing from the penthouse speakers. You sit up straighter in the velvet chaise near the window, heart thudding in your throat, smoothing down the silk robe she sent you — navy, monogrammed, nothing underneath.

Two weeks. That’s how long she left you. Two weeks of voice notes and teasing texts. Photos of her in tailored suits, sprawled across hotel beds with captions like “Wish you were here. On your knees.” She’d made you wait. Now she was home.

Yu Jimin — Karina, to the world — enters the room like she owns it. Because she does.

Hair slicked back from the cold, black coat tailored to her tall frame, heels clicking with purpose. You don’t breathe until she stops in front of you, shrugging off her coat, revealing the sharp cut of her blouse — undone just enough to make your throat go dry.

She doesn’t say hello.

Just lets her eyes drag over your body, slow and shameless. “You waited like a good girl,” she murmurs. Her voice is lower than usual, rougher from travel, like smoke and velvet all at once.

You nod, fingers clenching the edge of the chaise. “You said not to touch myself until you got back.”

Her smile is indulgent. Dangerous. “And did you listen?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

That earns you something between a hum and a growl. She steps closer, and suddenly her knee is nudging between yours. She spreads you open like it’s nothing, like she owns you — because she does.

“You look needy,” she whispers, brushing a knuckle under your chin. “All that waiting… all that patience… I should reward you. Or ruin you.”

You whimper, breath stuttering. “Please ruin me.”

Her hand cups your jaw, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “Oh, baby,” she says, eyes glinting. “I’m going to do both.”

The sound of your own heartbeat is deafening in your ears.

Jimin’s hand stays under your jaw, firm and possessive, as she leans in close — not to kiss you yet, but to savor how you tremble. Her presence alone makes your body ache. You can smell her perfume — amber and musk, faint but dominant — and underneath that, the subtle scent of her skin after a long flight.

“You look like you’re going to cry already,” she murmurs. Her thumb strokes your lip again. “Did you really wait like I told you?”

You nod, but she doesn’t move.

“I want to hear it.”

“I did,” you breathe. “Didn’t touch myself once. I wanted to be good for you.”

Her gaze darkens — with hunger, pride, and something dangerous.

“Oh, you’ve been very good,” she says. Her free hand ghosts over your thigh, pushing aside the robe you wore just for her. It slips open with a whisper of silk, baring you completely beneath it. “And I’m going to ruin you for it.”

You shiver as her palm cups the inside of your thigh, slow and deliberate. Her skin is cool from the cold outside — but the heat in her touch makes you burn.

She finally kisses you.

It’s not soft. Not slow. Not sweet.

It’s the kind of kiss that takes everything. Teeth and tongue and dominance. The kind of kiss that leaves you gasping, back arching into her as she presses you back against the chaise. She climbs over you with the smooth confidence of someone who’s done this a thousand times — because she has. But she’s never kissed anyone like this.

Only you.

You moan into her mouth as her hand finds your center. Her fingers slide between your folds — already wet, already aching — and she lets out a low laugh when she feels how ready you are.

“Soaked,” she says, dragging her fingers up slowly, spreading your slick over your clit with lazy circles. “And I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

Your breath hitches. That word — cock — always makes you weak when she says it. Because she knows exactly what to do with it. Because you’ve dreamed of it inside you every night she was gone.

“I missed you,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Missed the way you make me feel.”

Jimin leans down to your ear, breath hot. “Then you’re not sleeping tonight.”

She kisses down your neck — biting just hard enough to leave a mark — as her fingers keep moving, slow and precise. Her other hand unbuckles her belt with one smooth motion. You barely get a glimpse, but the bulge beneath her tailored slacks is unmistakable. Big. Thick. And strapped tight against her skin in a way that always makes you dizzy when she uses it on you.

You reach for her, but she grabs your wrist and pins it above your head.

“No,” she says simply. “You don’t get to touch yet.”

You whimper, thighs twitching. “Please…”

Jimin smirks against your throat. “You beg so pretty.”

With practiced ease, she frees her cock — thick and veined silicone, secured against her hip — and lets it slap against your thigh. You gasp at the weight of it, the promise of it. It’s not just about the physicality — it’s the way she uses it. Like it’s hers. Like you’re hers.

She strokes it once, deliberately slow. “You’re going to take this all night. You understand me?”

You nod, dazed. “Yes, Jimin.”

A growl escapes her throat — low, feral, possessive. That word lights her up like nothing else.

She doesn’t waste another second.

With one hand still holding your wrist above your head, she lines herself up with your entrance and sinks in — slowly, torturously — until she’s buried to the hilt. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you stretch around her, your whole body shaking.

“F-fuck—!”

Jimin hisses through her teeth. “So. Fucking. Tight.”

She stays still for a moment, letting you adjust, letting you feel just how deep she is. Then her grip tightens on your wrist, and her hips pull back — before slamming into you again, hard enough to make the chaise creak beneath you.

You moan loud and unfiltered, and she eats it up.

Her rhythm starts slow but punishing, hips driving into you with precision. Each thrust drags a desperate sound from your throat. She watches you unravel, eyes dark with pride and desire.

“This is what you waited for?” she pants. “All those lonely nights in bed, thinking about my cock filling you up?”

“Yes— yes, Jimin, please—!”

Your other hand claws at the sheets, nails scraping uselessly as she pounds into you without mercy. She leans over you, one hand fisting in your hair to keep you in place, the other holding you open like you’re hers to wreck — because you are.

And you don’t want her to stop. Not ever.

The way Jimin fucks you is clinical at first — deliberate and controlled, like she’s making a point. Like she wants you to remember the shape of her even after you can’t walk tomorrow. The force of her hips never falters, each thrust sharp and deep, like she’s carving herself into you.

You can’t even form a full word — just broken gasps of her name.

“Jimin—please—fuck—too much—”

“Too much?” she echoes, mocking and soft. Her lips brush your jaw as she slows down, just slightly, and grinds deep enough to knock the air from your lungs. “But you begged for this.”

Her hand finds your throat, not to squeeze — just to hold, a reminder of her grip on you, of how small you feel under her body, under her control.

“You said ruin me, remember?” she whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe. “Don’t start crying now, baby.”

She rolls her hips again, slow and grinding, making sure you feel every inch of her cock stretching you open. You claw at her back now, desperate to hold onto something, anything — but she just laughs under her breath and changes angles.

You choke on a sob.

“That’s it,” she coos. “Right there, huh? Feels too good now?”

Your eyes flutter shut, tears brimming from overstimulation already — and it’s only been one round.

But Jimin is relentless.

_____

Twenty minutes later, your robe is somewhere across the room, the chaise long forgotten. Jimin’s taken you to the floor, on your stomach now, face buried in the plush rug, ass in the air.

She mounts you from behind, one hand fisted in your hair, the other on your lower back, pressing you flat while she pounds into you — deep, fast, merciless. The obscene slap of skin on skin fills the room along with your broken moans and her ragged breathing.

“You hear that?” she pants behind you. “That’s your pussy dripping down my cock. You’re soaking me.”

“Fuck—Jimin—I can’t—!”

“You can,” she growls. “You’re gonna come for me again. And again. I’ll keep fucking you until you pass out from it.”

You feel like you might. You’ve already come twice, body wrecked and trembling, slick running down your thighs, your muscles shaking from how hard she’s holding you down. But the friction is addictive, her voice in your ear more powerful than anything else. The dirty praise, the quiet groans, the low curses in her native tongue — you’d drown in it if she let you.

And she wants you to drown.

She flips you again, hauling you into her lap now, facing her. Her arms wrap around your waist and she lowers you down, spearing you slowly on her cock again, bottoming out with a groan.

Your thighs tremble around her, muscles exhausted, and she kisses you through your gasp — not gentle, but slower now, dragging your body against hers like you belong nowhere else.

“Look at you,” she murmurs into your lips. “So wrecked. Barely able to sit up.”

“Y-You keep… fucking me full…”

“You love it.” Her tongue brushes your bottom lip before her teeth scrape gently. “You love when I don’t let up.”

She fucks up into you now — slow, controlled, devastating. Each thrust is a full drag-out and push back in, her hips rolling with maddening precision. You clutch at her shoulders, moaning into her mouth.

“Come for me again,” she whispers. “One more. Be a good girl.”

Your body obeys. It doesn’t matter that you’re exhausted. That you’re already trembling from the inside out. You come again — gasping her name into her throat — and she holds you through it, not stopping, not even letting you think.

Somewhere past 3 a.m., you’ve lost track of how many times she’s taken you. You’re in her bed now, face down in the pillows, cheek flushed against silk.

She fucks you from behind again — slower now, not from gentleness, but from complete control. Her hand rests on your lower back, holding you down, guiding your hips back to meet every push of hers.

Your voice is hoarse. “Jimin… I can’t—can’t even think…”

“That’s the point,” she says softly. “You don’t need to think. Just take it.”

You whimper, body twitching.

“You’re so fucked out,” she murmurs, and there’s something tender under it now. Her pace slows even more. “You gave me everything tonight.”

You nod weakly.

“I’m going to let you rest now. But first—” her cock sinks deep and stays there “—you’re going to keep me warm.”

You groan helplessly as she stills inside you, arms wrapping around your waist from behind, pulling you close until her chest presses to your back. She exhales like she’s finally satisfied.

You feel her cock pulsing inside you — not moving, just staying there, filling you, claiming you.

“You’re perfect,” she whispers into your hair. “So fucking good to me.”

You murmur something incoherent, too exhausted to reply properly, and she kisses your shoulder.

“Sleep,” she says. “I’ve got you.”

_____

You wake to the sound of her breathing.

Slow. Even. Almost peaceful.

It’s the first thing you register before you realize you’re still full — her cock still buried deep inside you, warm and snug, like it never left. Like she won’t let it. One of her arms is draped heavy around your waist, and her face is tucked into the crook of your neck, her breath warm against your skin.

She hasn’t moved. Not all night.

You’re sore — everywhere. Your thighs ache, your voice is raw, and the space between your legs is a throbbing reminder of the hours she spent using your body like her personal obsession. And still… she’s inside you. Not thrusting. Not teasing.

Just holding.

You shift slightly, and the movement makes your breath catch — she’s so deep. You squirm instinctively.

“Don’t,” Jimin murmurs, voice thick with sleep and control. Her hand tightens on your hip. “I’m not letting you go yet.”

You melt at the sound of her voice — husky, lower than usual, touched with possessive exhaustion.

“I’m too full,” you whisper, throat hoarse.

“I know.” She presses a kiss to your shoulder blade. “You’re doing so well for me.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then her hand slides up your stomach, slow and reverent, until her palm rests just beneath your chest. Her body molds against yours like she was always meant to be there.

“I should be asking if you’re okay,” she murmurs after a moment, quieter now. “I pushed you hard.”

“I liked it,” you reply, eyes fluttering closed again. “I like being yours.”

Jimin exhales into your skin like your words cracked something open inside her. Her fingers trace soft circles over your stomach now, grounding you gently, her cock still buried inside you with a kind of claiming that doesn’t need movement.

“You are mine,” she whispers. “I think about that too often.”

You hum at that — half-asleep, completely wrapped around her energy.

She lets you rest like that. A full half hour passes before she moves. Slowly, she pulls out, and you gasp at the drag of it — at the emptiness, the stickiness, the soreness left behind.

“Shhh,” she soothes, brushing your hair from your face. “I’ve got you. Let me take care of you now.”

She carries you — carries you — to the bath she drew while you dozed in her arms. The warmth is a balm, easing the ache in your muscles, washing away the evidence of how thoroughly she ruined you.

Jimin sits behind you in the water, her legs cradling yours, a washcloth in her hand. She doesn’t rush. She cleans you like she’s unmaking all the mess she created, kissing your shoulder between gentle swipes.

“You’re too good to me,” you whisper.

“No,” she murmurs against your neck. “I’m just matching your devotion.”

By the time you’re wrapped in one of her robes and curled against her in bed again, the sun is already bleeding into the room through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Jimin cups your cheek, tilting your face up. “One more before you sleep.”

Your eyes widen, and a shaky laugh slips from you. “You’re insatiable.”

She grins lazily, gaze dark and soft all at once. “You knew that when you signed up for me.”

You straddle her again, slower this time. It’s not about dominance now — not exactly. It’s about closeness. Connection. Her hands rest on your hips as she guides you down, filling you once more, inch by inch.

You sigh into the stretch, already oversensitive, but you welcome the burn.

This time, she doesn’t fuck you like she owns you.

She makes love to you like she can’t breathe without you.

Her hips roll into yours slow, controlled, her eyes locked to your face the entire time. You grind against her, moaning into her lips, every nerve raw and exposed. Her hands hold you steady, her voice low with praise — you’re so good, so tight, I’ll never get tired of this, of you.

You come with her name on your tongue and her arms around your back, your whole body shaking again. She follows, hips pushing up, cock twitching deep inside you as her moan dies in your mouth.

She holds you through it, and afterward, when you collapse onto her chest, boneless and blissed out, she presses a kiss to your hair.

“No more flights,” you murmur sleepily. “Stay here. With me.”

“I’ll cancel the next one,” she says without hesitation.

You smile against her skin. “Spoil me.”

Jimin chuckles, smoothing her hand over your spine. “That’s all I ever do.”

_____

You think she’s finally done with you.

Your body is spent, flushed and aching in all the ways that make you feel both alive and completely hollowed out. Jimin has taken everything — your voice, your strength, your thoughts — and now she lies beneath you like she could rest. Her hands, warm and wide, trace lazy patterns on your bare back as your breath evens out.

And then you feel it again.

The slow rise of her cock inside you.

You’re still on top of her, straddling her hips, her cock nestled inside your pussy like it’s right where it belongs — but now she’s growing hard again, and your heart starts thudding in your chest like a warning bell.

You stir a little, blinking through the daze. “You’re hard again.”

Jimin doesn’t open her eyes — she just smirks, smug and slow, her fingers squeezing your waist. “Mm. I never said I was done.”

You try to push up, maybe to say we need a break, but your body betrays you — you roll your hips instead, and the friction drags a gasp out of both of you.

Her eyes snap open.

And everything in her gaze is hunger.

“You feel that?” she murmurs, voice dropping into something dark and familiar. “You’re still wet. Still clenching around me like you want more.”

You open your mouth to argue, but she shifts her hips upward — and the friction makes you cry out.

“Thought so.”

She’s not moving fast. Not yet. She’s still buried inside you, but now her hands are gripping your hips, and she starts guiding you in slow, deep grinds. Every movement sends her cock rubbing against the tenderest part of your walls — the place she’s found a dozen times tonight and never let up on.

“Jimin—” Your voice is a ragged plea. “I… I can’t—”

“You can.” Her voice is steady, solid, like a command carved in stone. “You think I don’t know your limits by now?”

She sits up without warning, chest pressed to yours, mouth at your jaw. One arm snakes around your back while the other guides your hips in slow, rolling motions — up, down, up, down — her cock staying deep inside you, never leaving your warmth.

You’re crying before you even realize it. Not from pain. From how full you are. From how good it feels to be used even after your body gave up.

“Jimin—”

Her mouth finds your cheek, your temple, your neck — soft kisses, almost at odds with the way she controls your body.

“You’re beautiful like this,” she whispers. “Completely fucked out. Crying. Still riding me.”

“I’m— I don’t even know if I’m coming anymore,” you stammer.

Her hand cups the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair. “You are. You’ve come every time I’ve told you to.”

You sob against her shoulder, overwhelmed and wrecked.

“I’m going to stay inside you,” she whispers. “Until you beg me not to. Until you forget what it feels like to be empty.”

You grind down again, helpless. Her cock pulses inside you, thick and throbbing, and she takes it slow — deep thrusts with just enough snap to make your body jolt, to keep your pussy fluttering around her.

“Look at me,” she says.

You do — and the eye contact knocks the wind out of you.

Her eyes are heavy-lidded, almost soft. Her expression is nothing like the usual smug CEO or cocky tease she gives the rest of the world. This version of Jimin is terrifying in how intimate she is — like she could ruin you with nothing but her stare.

“I don’t care what happens tomorrow,” she says. “I’m not leaving this bed. You’re going to stay right here. On my cock. For hours.”

You moan, voice breaking. Your orgasm takes you off guard — again — rippling through your overstimulated body in a raw wave, and she doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t let you down easy. She keeps fucking you through it, keeps your body writhing on her lap while your eyes roll back.

Your voice is gone.

Your hands shake.

And still, she whispers: “One more.”

_____

Half an hour later, your body finally gives out.

Jimin pulls you into her chest again, cock still nestled inside you. Her fingers stroke your back, calming you, easing your trembling muscles.

“No more,” you whisper hoarsely. “I’m done.”

She kisses your forehead. “You did so well.”

You can’t respond. You’re already drifting.

And this time, when you fall asleep full of her, she doesn’t move. She just holds you like something precious — like something no one else gets to touch.

_____

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep.

Only that you wake up feeling heavy — not in a bad way, but like you’re anchored to something real. Safe. Warm. The kind of weight that means someone’s holding you, wrapped around you, too unwilling to let you go.

Jimin is still there.

Her arm rests beneath your neck, the other draped across your middle, palm splayed wide across your stomach like she’s still protecting you in your sleep. Her breath is slow against the back of your shoulder, deep and even, her chest rising with each exhale. The room is quiet. Still. Dim with morning shadows.

You shift slightly under the blankets, and her grip tightens instantly.

“Mmm… don’t move,” she murmurs, voice sleep-rough and hoarse from hours of low groans and gasped commands. “Still inside you…”

She is. Her cock is softened now, but still snug, still nestled deep between your thighs like she belongs there.

You murmur, “You’re so warm…”

“You’re so mine,” she replies, pressing a sleepy kiss to the back of your neck.

It’s not a tease. Not possessive in the way she usually says it. Just… truth.

You turn slowly in her arms, limbs aching but pliant, until your face finds the hollow of her collarbone and your fingers curl over the firm muscle of her chest. Jimin hums softly, shifting with you, her arms tightening around your waist.

There’s no rush. No lingering arousal.

Just the quiet hum of skin against skin, bodies molded together under the weight of silk sheets and exhaustion.

She breathes into your hair. “You feel okay?”

You nod into her skin, your voice still ragged. “Sore. But good.”

Jimin smiles. You feel it more than see it. “You were amazing.”

“So were you,” you whisper.

Her fingers trail softly down your spine, barely grazing your skin, until they settle at the small of your back. She holds you there, grounding you with nothing but her touch.

“Did I go too far?” she asks quietly.

You shake your head. “No. I… needed it. I needed you like that.”

Her voice drops lower. “You can ask me for anything. You know that, right?”

You nod again, your lips brushing her collarbone. “I know.”

Another beat of silence. Then—

“I canceled my flight,” she says.

You blink. Pull back just enough to look up at her. “You what?”

Her eyes are still half-closed, but there’s no sleepiness in her gaze now — only something raw and steady. “I’m not leaving you today. Or tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere until I have to.”

Your heart thuds painfully in your chest.

“You don’t have to cancel things for me—”

“I don’t have to,” she interrupts. “I want to. I don’t want to wake up without you in my arms.”

The air between you stills. Softens.

She kisses your forehead. Then your cheek. Then the corner of your lips.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” she murmurs. “I touch you and I can’t stop. I see you and nothing else matters.”

You let out a small breath. “Stay. Just like this.”

She nods without hesitation. “I will.”

You bury your face in her chest again, and her hand finds yours beneath the blankets, fingers lacing with yours. The smallest touches — her thumb brushing yours, the quiet exhale of her breath against your scalp — are the most intimate things in the world.

No sex. No teasing. No hunger.

Just her holding you like she never plans to let go.

The last thing you hear before sleep pulls you under again is her voice — quiet, possessive, almost reverent:

“Mine.”

[facefullofsadness]

Okayy okayy listen ceo!jimin g!p like how would she treat fem!reader they're married too

they're like barely married in this but yk wtv, they're sweet and fuck a lot (I really forgot how to write it's kinda crazy)

OKAY HI I NEED TO KNOCK SOME OF THESE OUT TO GET BACK INTO THE SWING OF WRITING!!! ceo g!p jimin who's married to reader is actually such a softie for her wife. tell me why I envision the fifty shades of gray concept where you're her assistant at the start/you work for her and after some time you get closer and get together? idk it just seems right for rina.

I think that jimin has the absolute softest spot for y/n which actually makes them working together really counter-productive for the same reason. the way rina gets easily distracted when you're in the room, averting her gaze from whatever is in front of her and what her company would say is more important to instead look at you mesmerized, the woman who so obviously is actually more important. they wanna separate the two of you so work can actually get done but well, when the ceo says you're working in her office and that's final? you just have to concede.

at first it's pretty civil, working on documents together, her using the most gentle and calming voice to make sure you don't feel stressed or pressured, exchanging flirty glances and smiles, just for her to run her hand along your thigh as she intently studies marketing graphs, glasses on the bridge of her nose making her look more enticing than she needs to be. you try not to let it phase you but it's karina ykwim, eventually you're on her lap and pushing her back against her chair, her hands holding you by your hips and her lips on your neck, making involuntary noises escape your mouth.

her office is soundproofed and only has one way windows for this exact reason, yall just can't stop fucking! no one dares knock on miss yu's door when you're in her office, knowing it was more than likely her cock was deeply sheathed in your wet and clenching pussy, drilling in and out of you as you screamed into her neck. she's fucking you so aggressively and desperately into her desk, pinning you almost painfully into the hard wood as she thrusts her long dick in and out of your cunt, the juices spilling all over the surface and painting her pelvis with your combined wetness as it seeps down your slit.

she pounds into you with no remorse and pants pathetically into your ear as your throat hurts from the sheer amount of screaming you've done, her cock ruining your insides so perfectly that you can't think logically. moaning into your ear sweet nothings as she encourages you and tells you how good it feels to have her cock completely buried in that hot and juicy hole. fuck y/n you feel so fucking good, I'm gonna breed you, pump you full of our kids yeah? you'll let me do that right, sweetheart? ahhh shit, baby oh my god this pussy belongs to me, my wife's cunt is made for my cock... she continues to word vomit all up in your ear without even thinking as you mumble incomprehensibly just how delicious the feeling of her cock inside of you feels.

needless to say either you're fucking each other or you're disgustingly clingy, workplace or home. don't even mention the honeymoon... somehow though through all those distractions, you both manage to get the work done in no time so much to everyone's dismay, they can't really complain. jimin is the ceo after all, no one is gonna mess with her or her precious wife.

[fellominaarcher]

plsplsplspls make another idol karina x g!p idol 🥹🧎🏻‍♀️

VIBEZ ── KARINA

» » note: I'm so sorry this took me a long time to do

» » fic type: smut oneshot

» » pairing: Karina x g!p + idol!femreader

» » what's in here: mutual pining, hotel rendezvous, unresolved tension, undercurrent emotions, sex (MDNI), smut with a plot, cock and cunt mentioned, oral sex, spanking and unprotected sex.

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01:15 AM. Post-award show. Osaka.

It had been three months since that night in Room 1104. Since the kisses. The touches. The sex. The heat. The ache.

Since Jimin laid in Y/N’s arms, half-naked and glowing, lips swollen from pleasure, then walked away like nothing happened.

They never spoke again. No texts. No calls. Just silence. Hell, they weren't really that acquainted before or after that blind one night stand.

Maybe that’s how these things were meant to end, quietly. Cleanly.

Not because it was awkward, not because it was bad—hell no. That night had replayed in Y/N’s head far more often than she was proud of. Sometimes she remembered it every day. Sometimes she forgot for weeks, only for Jimin’s face to flash in her mind during the most random of moments.

But tonight, it felt like something was still… burning.

Y/N was heading back to her company van, exhausted from the awards show but still buzzing from the adrenaline. Her group, Celestial, had won one of the big ones, and even though she was smiling and waving, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Maybe it was the city lights. Maybe it was the backless dress Jimin wore during her stage. Or maybe it was just that tonight felt like the right night.

And tonight?

Tonight, Y/N didn’t want to think anymore. She just wanted to see her.

Fuck it.

So a few hours earlier, somewhere between the post-show adrenaline crash and the van ride back to the hotel, Y/N had sent Jimin a message:

I’m in Osaka tonight too. Wanna hang out or do we keep pretending we don’t know each other?

It was bold. Risky. Very not-her. She expected silence.

But Jimin replied.

I'm too tired to move anywhere.

It's really late too...

Meet me at my hotel, I've got popcorns ;((

A grin had pulled at Y/N’s lips the second she read it. She quickly typed back a short okay, asked for the room number, and added a flower emoji at the end just because she could. Just because it felt right.

──────────────────────

It didn’t even take 15 minutes for Y/N to arrive at the hotel aespa was staying at for the night. She moved through the empty lobby with ease, hoodie up, mask on, eyes focused. Her heart, however, was doing the absolute most.

It wasn’t nerves.

It was… that feeling. The feeling you get when you're about to see someone you shouldn't be this excited about. Someone who shouldn’t make you feel like you’re seventeen and about to kiss your crush behind a gym.

Room 907.

Y/N stood at the door, her hand hovering near it, then quickly gave Jimin a phone call to let her know she was here.

Click. The door unlocked from the inside. The door swung open gently, and there she was.

Yoo Jimin. Standing barefoot in black sweatshorts and a baby tee that hugged her waist just enough to tempt. Her dark hair was messily tied into a low ponytail, and the glow from the hallway light behind her lit the edges of her face like a dream.

When she saw Y/N’s face, that easy, pretty smile bloomed across her lips—unfiltered, soft, real.

“You’re here,” she said, like it meant something. Maybe it did.

Y/N's hands were shoved in her hoodie pockets, but her smile was anything but shy. “Told you I would be.”

They stood there for a second. Just… staring.

Jimin didn’t know why, but she kept staring. Kept taking in the sight of Y/N standing there like a damn scene. Something inside her had perked up. Lit up. She'd spent all evening dancing under bright lights, but this—this was what made her feel warm.

“Come in,” Jimin said quietly, stepping aside.

Y/N did, slipping off her sneakers at the entrance and pulling her hoodie over her head, revealing a plain white tee and the slight curve of her forearms—veins visible, skin warm.

Jimin watched her move and hated how easily her thoughts spiraled. How is she hotter than I remembered?

Y/N’s eyes scanned her face. “You look tired.”

“You look dangerous,” Jimin replied without missing a beat.

Y/N chuckled, cheeks warming. “You’re the one who invited me to your room, remember?” which earned a small nod from Jimin.

Jimin finally stepped aside, and Y/N walked in, the door clicking shut behind her.

The room was cozy—warm yellow lighting, hotel-grade minimalism, a neatly folded bed, and yes... a half-eaten bag of popcorn on the table.

“You actually do have popcorn,” Y/N laughed, dropping onto the small couch beside the window.

“Told you,” Jimin said, walking to the mini-fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. She tossed one to Y/N before plopping down beside her on the couch.

For a few moments, they just sat—quiet, peaceful, watching the city skyline from the glass.

“I thought about texting you,” Jimin finally said.

Y/N looked at her. “Yeah?” she raised a brow, boldly looking into Jimin's eyes.

Jimin's eyes gazed back into Y/N's eyes. “Almost did. So many times. Just didn’t know if you’d want to talk. Or if it’d be weird.” the aespa leader answered, studying Y/N's features.

Y/N opened her bottle, took a slow sip. “It is weird. But I still wanted to see you.”

Jimin smiled faintly. “Same.”

Silence again. This time a little heavier. A little slower. Then Jimin tilted her head, resting it against Y/N’s shoulder. “You smell the same.”

Y/N’s heart jumped in her chest. “That a good thing?” she let out a chuckle, an almost awkward one.

“Mmhmm. It made me remember... a lot.”

Y/N didn’t respond, but she slowly let her arm wrap around Jimin’s waist, pulling her a little closer.

Familiar. Warm. Like they’d done this before. Because they had. And it didn’t feel wrong. Not at all.

Y/N's heart was pounding.

She could feel the weight of Jimin's head on her shoulder, feel the soft rise and fall of her breath, the way her skin warmed every inch it touched. It was soft. Intimate. Infuriating.

This woman is crazy, Y/N thought to herself. It’s like she’s got everything I want without even trying.

Everything about Jimin... her perfume, her breath, the soft weight of her palm resting absentmindedly near Y/N’s thigh. It was enough to make Y/N feel like she was starving. Starving for closeness, for more of her. Like some kind of touch-deprived masochist who finally got the first taste of what she wanted.

And fuck, she remembered. She remembered everything about that night.

The way Jimin felt under her fingers. The way she moaned when Y/N hit just the right angle. How her legs wrapped tight around Y/N’s waist like she never wanted to let go.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the grin that threatened to spill. She was gonna lose it at this rate. Her right leg was bouncing. Heart racing. Palms warm.

She didn’t remember feeling this restless last time. No, this was new. And it wasn’t just lust.

It was... more.

Dangerous. Addictive. Something you fall into headfirst and hope you survive on the way out.

“I remember a lot too,” Y/N said, eyes fixed on the wall, voice low and rough like she was holding something back. “Your face. Your voice. Everything.”

Jimin shifted against her, lifting her head and turning slightly on the couch. She tucked one leg under the other, her baby tee rising just a bit with the movement and Y/N caught the glimpse of her bare thigh and promptly forgot how to breathe.

Jimin was staring at her now. Fully. Soft brown eyes wide and curious, that slight smirk starting to form.

“Oh?” she said, one brow lifting. “You like that?”

That tone. That Jimin tone—teasing, flirtatious, a little too confident. The one that dug under your skin and made you feel like you were playing a losing game you didn’t want to win.

Y/N shrugged, though it took all her control not to let her own smirk grow wider. She leaned further back into the couch, sinking like the cushions could protect her.

“I do,” she said casually, “...and I thought you said there were popcorns here, Jimin? What kind of broke hangout is this?”

Jimin snorted. “Oh, now you want the popcorn?” She pushed herself off the couch with a groan, exaggerating her movements as if she were sooo put-upon.

Y/N tilted her head to watch her walk away—slow, legs on full display, that sweat shorts just barely covering the curve of her ass. The Celestial member ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek.

“Don’t forget the seasoning,” Y/N added, voice lazy. “I only hang out with girls who know how to flavor things.”

Jimin glanced over her shoulder, her smile sharp like a blade hidden behind lipstick. “You’re lucky I’m not kicking you out.”

“Trust me,” Y/N muttered under her breath, “I’m very lucky.”

Jimin grabbed the bag of popcorn off the table, then walked back over—still holding eye contact like she knew she had Y/N hooked and wasn’t letting her go. She dropped the bag between them on the couch.

“Here,” she said, “snack. Maybe that’ll shut you up.”

Y/N reached over, plucked a single piece out, then popped it into her mouth. “I don’t usually eat with girls I’ve already seen naked. But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

Jimin looked at her, deadpan. Then slowly smiled.

They both leaned back against the couch again, this time shoulders almost pressing, thighs were close to touching. The tension between them was no longer simmering—it was crackling. Every breath felt intentional. Every glance lasted a second too long.

And then, Jimin turned her head. Eyes locked on Y/N’s mouth. “Y/N.” Jimin called out.

The Celestial idol’s gaze flicked up. “Yeah?”

“Nothing,” Jimin responded with a small smile on her lips, shaking her head and her voice was almost an inaudible whisper, her eyes never leaving Y/N's face.

Y/N was no longer chewing on the popcorn and she nodded her head slowly, she probably was mentally undressing Yoo Jimin and the amount of eye contact was making her melt into her spot.

Jimin held the bag out to her, eyes still on Y/N as she plucked a single piece and tossed it into her mouth. “You went all the way up here just for this?”

“I went up here because you said you missed me.”

“I said I had popcorn.”

“Same thing.”

Jimin snorted softly, chewing, eyes glinting. “What else did I say?”

Y/N plucked her own piece from the bag. “Something about not being able to move because your legs were tired.”

“Mhm.” Jimin stepped just a little closer. “Still tired, actually.”

“Should I carry you back to the bed?” Y/N asked, voice a little lower now.

“I don’t trust you with heavy lifting.”

“I think I handled you just fine last time.”

Jimin leaned in—closer, slower, eyes never leaving hers. Her hand found its way to Y/N’s thigh, palm light but intentional.

And then, like she couldn’t stop herself even if she tried...

She kissed her. Warm. Soft. Familiar. But this time, there was something different. Something yearning.

Like she had spent the last three months pretending she didn’t miss this, but she did. God, she did.

Y/N kissed her back instantly, hand rising to cup the back of Jimin’s neck, the popcorn bag falling forgotten to the floor as their mouths moved together—slow, deep, teasing.

Tongues brushed. Breaths tangled.

And somewhere between the second and third kiss, Jimin shifted her body and climbed onto Y/N’s lap, straddling her, plain white tee riding up with the movement.

“I was thinking about you,” she breathed out against her lips, hips slowly rolling once against Y/N’s lap, “way too much for someone I was supposed to forget.”

Y/N swallowed hard, eyes dark now. “I'd love to make you remember, Yoo Jimin.”

Jimin smiled, hands fisting the collar of Y/N’s t-shirt, forehead pressing against hers. “Then remind me again,” she whispered, eyes half-lidded.

The aespa member closed her eyes, leaning in once more to press her lips against Y/N’s—this time slower, deeper. There was a smile on her lips while she kissed, like she couldn’t believe how good this felt.

Y/N pulled her closer, hand sliding around Jimin’s waist, holding her tight like she never wanted to let her go. And maybe she didn’t.

Their tongues met again, a hot, lazy slide, and Jimin moaned quietly into the kiss. It was soft, but it meant something, the kind of noise you make when you’ve missed someone without realizing it.

Her lips were plush, warm, wet. The kind of kiss that starts sweet but turns greedy—because the moment their tongues touched, Jimin tilted her head and deepened it. Slowly. Sensually. Like she wanted to drown in it.

Y/N’s hands slid down to grip Jimin’s waist, holding her tightly, possessively. She wasn’t letting this woman go... not now, not tonight. Jimin was hers tonight.

Maybe longer.

If the universe allowed.

But it was too good. Too much. The tension in Y/N’s stomach was unbearable, like it was going to snap. She pulled away for a breath, trying to regain a sliver of control, and pushed lightly—intent on flipping Jimin beneath her.

But the aespa leader knew better.

Jimin immediately cupped Y/N’s face, drawing her back in, their lips brushing, hot breath shared.

“Why don’t you behave,” Jimin whispered, her voice so low and seductive it made Y/N’s core pulse. “Then you’ll have me all night long. I’ll let you ruin me.”

She gently bit Y/N’s bottom lip, tugging it between her teeth with a teasing whimper then slowly licked the sting away, lips dragging, almost lazily tracing the shape of Y/N’s mouth.

It was infuriatingly hot.

Y/N’s hands were already trembling, fighting to keep still while their hips naturally started grinding together, desperation bleeding through every roll. It was slow and heavy, clothed for now, but the friction was maddening.

Moans began to escape. Low. Breathless. Needy.

The room felt hotter by the second. The air dense, clouded in lust. Someone had to move or they’d combust.

And it was Jimin who started undressing first.

She reached for the hem of her baby tee, pulling it up in one swift, almost angry motion, tossing it somewhere across the couch. Y/N immediately followed by grabbing the edges of her own white tee, pulling it off as well before reaching for Jimin again.

Their lips crashed together.

Y/N kissed her hard this time, all tongue and open-mouth groaning. Her hands roamed Jimin’s bare back, dragging fingernails lightly down her skin until she reached the clasp of her bra.

It came undone easily. Too easily. Like her body had been waiting for this.

Y/N peeled it off slowly, watching. Eyes glued to Jimin’s chest, mouth parting slightly when her full breasts spilled free.

Y/N stared for a moment too long, her breath caught in her throat. “Fuck,” she murmured. “You’re not real.”

“Then touch me before I disappear,” Jimin whispered, flushed, while Y/N letting the bra drop somewhere to the floor.

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice.

She pushed Jimin gently onto the couch, until the idol was laid out—her long hair splayed over the cushion, eyes wide, mouth already open like she was about to moan.

The Celestial member leaned in and kissed Jimin's neck, warm and wet, trailing her lips slowly down to Jimin’s collarbone, where she bit lightly. Then lower. Her tongue slid between the valley of her breasts, her breath hot against skin.

Y/N crouched in between of Jimin's legs and then she took one nipple into her mouth, lips wrapping around the soft peak.

Jimin gasped, tilting her head back as Y/N sucked slowly, tongue swirling. Her hand came up to cradle the other breast, thumb brushing lazily over the other nipple. She moaned, body arching toward the contact, fingers curling into Y/N’s hair.

“F-fuck, baby...” she breathed.

Y/N smiled against her skin, then kissed lower. Down Jimin’s ribs. Her stomach. Each kiss soft but sinful, like a promise. When she reached Jimin’s hips, she tugged at the waistband of her shorts.

“Lift,” Y/N said.

Jimin obeyed without a word.

Y/N pulled her shorts and panties down in one motion, dragging the cloth down Jimin’s legs until she was completely bare and flushed, breathless, and already so wet she was glistening.

Y/N spread her thighs gently with both hands, kissed the inside of one, then the other, before licking a slow stripe up the center of her pussy.

Jimin whimpered. Loud. Her hands clutched the back of the couch, head falling back, chest rising and falling like a heartbeat.

Y/N licked again, slower this time. Letting her tongue linger on Jimin’s clit before sucking gently, then pulling back to kiss her inner thighs once more. Whatever to please that needy, wet cunt of hers.

And then Jimin suddenly tugged at Y/N’s hoodie, breathless and wide-eyed. “Take it off,” she panted. “Let me see you, all of you.”

Y/N stood between Jimin’s legs, towering over her slightly, and pulled her pants and boxers, letting them fall in one motion. And there it was—her cock, already hard and leaking, thick veins running along the shaft, tip flushed and pink. The air in the room shifted.

Jimin’s pupils dilated. Her legs fell wider open. “Oh fuck,” she whispered.

Y/N flashed a small smile, stroking herself once, slow and teasing. “Still want me to behave?”

Jimin’s eyes glazed over. She reached to wrap her hand around it, thumb smearing precum across the head, and Y/N let out a groan, bucking slightly into her touch.

“Get on top of me. Now.” Jimin ordered.

Y/N kneeled onto the couch again, fitting herself between Jimin’s thighs, her tip brushing through Jimin’s wetness and making them both shudder. She leaned in to kiss her again, slow and deep.

Jimin wrapped her arms around her neck and whispered, “I want you inside me.”

Y/N held her gaze and then she moved between them, lined herself up, and slowly pushed in. Slow. Thick. Stretching. Jimin felt full and her lips parted around a silent moan, her fingers digging into Y/N’s back.

Y/N bottomed out, chest pressing against hers, forehead pressed together. “You’re so fucking tight, Jimin,” Y/N groaned. “So perfect.”

Jimin gasped, eyes shut tightly. “Fuck me.”

And she did.

Thrusting slowly at first, hips rolling in a deep, controlled rhythm. The couch creaked. Their skin slapped together softly with each push. Jimin’s legs wrapped around her waist and pulled her in deeper, nails clawing lightly down her back.

Y/N pressed her lips to Jimin’s ear, panting. “Tell me you missed this.” a light gasp escaped Y/N's mouth.

“I did,” Jimin moaned, voice shaking. “I missed you.” the pleasure was very much needed.

Y/N rocked into her harder, pace picking up. Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut, moaning loud now, no shame. One hand slid between them and rubbed her own clit in circles to match Y/N’s rhythm.

Y/N rocked into her harder, pace picking up. Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut, moaning loud now, no shame. One hand slid between them and rubbed her own clit in circles to match Y/N’s rhythm.

The sounds—wet, raw, needy—filled the room like a secret song.

Y/N kissed her again, messy, open-mouthed, tongues clashing. And then she whispered against her lips. “I’m not stopping until I fuck the memory of me into you.”

They had been in that position for a while—Jimin on her back, legs wrapped tightly around Y/N’s waist, nails raking across her toned back as Y/N drove her hips forward with firm, hungry thrusts.

The pace was relentless now. Each stroke made Jimin whimper, moan, bite her lower lip, and whisper Y/N’s name like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

“Fuck, right there,” she gasped, her voice cracking as Y/N filled her to the brim, each stroke rubbing against the exact spot inside her that made her arch her back. “Y/N, you feel so good…”

Y/N gritted her teeth, sweat glistening on her skin as she rocked her hips harder. Her mouth dropped open at the way Jimin clenched around her, soaking wet and warm, so unbelievably tight.

But she needed more. She wanted to see her. Break her a little. See what her face looked like when she was fucked from behind—no control, just raw sensation.

Y/N pulled out, breathing hard. Jimin whined at the sudden emptiness, blinking up at her with hazy, glassy eyes.

“Turn around,” Y/N rasped, voice low and wrecked.

Jimin obeyed with shaky limbs, face pressed into the couch cushions, her perfect ass arching up without hesitation. Her knees dug into the fabric, legs spread open, flushed, soaked.

Y/N exhaled a holy fuck under her breath at the sight. She knelt behind her, grabbed Jimin’s hips, and slid in again slowly, letting her cock press into the same dripping heat but from an entirely new angle.

The moment Y/N pushed all the way in, Jimin let out the sexiest moan she had ever made that night, it was raw, sharp, head buried into the cushion as her back arched deeper.

“Y-Yes, yes, yes—fuck, Y/N,” she gasped, voice muffled and so needy.

Y/N started slow. Rolling her hips, grinding into her, letting the head of her cock kiss that perfect, dangerous spot over and over again.

“God, baby,” she groaned, fingers digging into Jimin’s ass, “You’re tighter like this. You’re fucking squeezing me...”

Jimin’s knees buckled slightly. She could barely hold herself up, mouth open against the cushion.

“Don’t stop. Fuck me fuck me like that... just like that...”

A sharp spank landed on Jimin’s ass and she yelped, face burying into the pillow as another moan slipped out.

“Fuck—do it again…”

Y/N slapped her again, her palm leaving a faint red mark that made her cock twitch inside Jimin.

She was close. Too close. Her hips stuttered, a groan tearing out of her chest. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum... Jimin,"

With barely a second left, Y/N pulled out, stroking herself with rough, quick pumps, and her climax hit—spilling hot, thick cum right at Jimin’s entrance, painting the lips of her pussy, just barely missing going inside.

Jimin collapsed against the couch, trembling, skin flushed and her cunt throbbing with emptiness.

Y/N leaned in, her breath heavy, sweat dripping down her back and kissed Jimin on the shoulder before sinking to her knees behind her. She spread her open again with both hands and dove in with her tongue, licking up her own cum off Jimin’s thighs and kissing her way up to that soaked, aching cunt.

The moment Y/N’s tongue swiped over her clit, Jimin sobbed out loud. “FUCK, yesyesyes, don’t stop... please,” her eyes shut tightly and her fists balled, feeling absolute bliss.

Y/N sucked, circled, flicked, her tongue moving in rhythm, two fingers slipping inside, curling into the soaked heat as Jimin shook and cried out, body trembling from overstimulation.

“Jimin…” Y/N moaned into her, licking harder, rougher.

“Oh god, I’m—fuck!”

Jimin came with her face buried in the pillow, moaning Y/N’s name like a mantra, her thighs were lightly shaking, body arching off the couch as her orgasm crashed through her like lightning.

Y/N sat up slowly, face shining with wetness and pride, and pulled Jimin into her arms with both of them sweaty, shaky, but so damn high off each other’s bodies.

“You’re insane,” Jimin whispered, voice hoarse.

“And you’re too fucking good,” Y/N murmured, brushing her lips over her temple.

The room was quiet again except for their breathing. Their bodies, tangled on the couch. Clothes forgotten on the floor. They didn’t need to say much more.

Because now, it wasn’t just sex, maybe. It was something deeper, maybe. And they both knew... This wasn’t the last time.

──────────────────────

—The next morning

“Why are we even going to Jimin’s room again?” Minjeong groaned as she rubbed one eye, her hoodie barely covering the tangled mess of her bleached hair.

Aeri yawned dramatically. “Because someone... Jimin was supposed to order breakfast for the team, and we haven't heard from her since last night. I’m starving.”

“Girl, you’re always starving.” Yizhuo deadpanned, clutching her iced coffee cup like her life depended on it. “We could’ve just sent a text.”

“We did,” Aeri said, jabbing the elevator button, “but your favorite unnie’s been ghosting us since 1AM. Probably passed out.”

“Oh please,” Minjeong rolled her eyes as the elevator dinged open. “Or passed out on a TV series.”

That earned a round of tired giggles as they shuffled out onto the hallway floor, sock-slippered and makeup-free, all three dressed like off-duty girlies who were barely surviving post-schedule exhaustion.

They turned the corner toward Jimin’s room, still mid-laugh and froze.

Standing at the door of Room 907, leaning casually against the doorframe like it was her own personal balcony, Yoo Jimin was in sweats and a loose shirt…

Smiling.

Smiling in that I-had-a-fucking-amazing-night kind of way, her voice soft as she murmured something to the person in front of her.

And that person? Y/N from Celestial.

Hair damp from a fresh shower. Wearing yesterday’s hoodie. Looking way too good for someone who definitely didn’t get eight hours of sleep.

“Oh my God.” Yizhuo blinked.

Aeri stopped dead in her tracks, her hand instinctively rising to her mouth in slow-mo. “No way.”

Minjeong’s jaw dropped open just slightly.

Y/N turned at that exact moment, eyes meeting the three stunned aespa girls who stood in a perfect, horrified triangle.

“Morning, girls,” Y/N said coolly, voice smooth, giving a small respectful bow.

She smiled just a bit like she knew then walked past them casually, phone in hand, scent lingering like scandal itself.

No words. No explanations.

As the three girls slowly turned back toward their leader—Jimin, who was still leaning against the door, lips curved, arms crossed. “Oh,” she said, tone light. “You’re all up early.”

“Are we not gonna talk about the fact you literally escorted her out like you just tucked her in last night?” Aeri’s voice cracked.

Jimin just shrugged with a lazy smile, reaching for the door handle like she had all the time in the world. “We had popcorn,” she said simply, refusing to elaborate further.

“What—”

“Wait here, I'll go get my bag,” Then? She closed the door right in their stunned little faces.

“…Popcorn?!” Minjeong wheezed.

“THAT’S NOT EVEN—” Yizhuo’s voice rose.

“Holy shit.” Aeri whispered. “She got laid.”

──────────────────────

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[fioredeciliego]

Mommy Issues - Karina x Fem!Reader

11.2k words

Moving to another country wasn’t supposed to be easy. That was the mantra Y/N repeated to herself as she dragged her luggage through the crowded halls of Schiphol Airport. The Netherlands—a world away from the life she had known, filled with unfamiliar faces, a foreign language, and customs she barely understood. Yet, this was what she wanted. This was freedom.

It had taken months to plan, years to gather the courage. Back home, there was no peace. Privacy was a luxury she could never afford in a house that was always full: her mother, her three younger siblings, the constant noise. And then there was her mother herself—a complicated, volatile presence that dominated Y/N’s life. For years, Y/N had felt more like a caretaker than a daughter, shouldering responsibilities that weren’t hers to bear. It wasn’t all bad; she loved her siblings dearly and had moments with her mother that reminded her of the love buried under the chaos. But it was never enough to outweigh the suffocating sense of inadequacy and anxiety.

She rolled her suitcase to the curb and hailed a taxi, her heart hammering in her chest as she gave the driver her new address. The cityscape of Amsterdam blurred past the window as she tried to breathe deeply, grounding herself in the present. She’d rented a small studio apartment on the outskirts of the city—a modest space, but it was hers. No one would barge in uninvited. No one would demand things of her. No one would criticize her every move.

When the taxi stopped, she lugged her suitcase up the narrow staircase to her apartment. The first thing she noticed was how quiet it was. The silence felt foreign, almost eerie, after years of constant noise. She stood in the center of the room, taking in the plain white walls, the tiny kitchenette, the single window overlooking the street below. It wasn’t much, but it was hers.

As she unpacked, her phone buzzed on the counter. Her stomach twisted when she saw the caller ID: Mom.

She hesitated, staring at the screen until it went dark. The phone buzzed again, and this time, she answered.

“Hello?” Her voice was small, almost drowned out by the static of the poor connection.

“Y/N, where are you?” her mother’s voice demanded, sharp and accusatory. “Why didn’t you tell me you landed?”

“I just got in,” Y/N said, already bracing herself for the onslaught. “I was going to call you once I settled.”

“You should have called me right away. Do you know how worried I’ve been? You don’t think about anyone but yourself.”

Y/N closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the counter until her knuckles turned white. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, the words automatic, devoid of feeling.

Her mother launched into a familiar tirade about how selfish Y/N was, how ungrateful. She didn’t ask about the flight, the new apartment, or how Y/N was feeling. It was all about her mother’s own anxiety, her fears, her sacrifices. Y/N listened in silence, letting the words wash over her. She’d heard it all before.

When the call finally ended, Y/N sank onto the couch, tears prickling her eyes. She’d left the country to escape this, yet her mother’s voice still echoed in her head, a constant reminder of her failures. She wanted to scream, to cry, to do something, but instead, she sat there, staring at the bare walls of her new home.

--

The next few days passed in a blur of monotony. Wake up. Go to work. Eat alone. Come home. Watch TV. Sleep. Repeat. The job was unremarkable, a desk position at a small marketing firm. Her coworkers were polite but distant, their conversations flowing effortlessly in Dutch while Y/N fumbled with basic phrases. She spent her lunch breaks alone, scrolling through her phone and pretending not to notice the sidelong glances from her colleagues.

The weekends offered a slight reprieve. Y/N explored the city, wandering through parks, visiting museums, and losing herself in the maze of canals. She loved the quiet moments, the freedom to go wherever she wanted without answering to anyone. But even in the midst of Amsterdam’s beauty, she couldn’t shake the loneliness that clung to her like a shadow.

Her mother called almost every day, and every call left Y/N feeling more drained than the last. Her siblings would sometimes grab the phone, their voices bright and eager as they told her about school and their friends. Those moments were the only ones that brought a genuine smile to her face. She missed them terribly, but the thought of going back—of returning to that stifling environment—was unthinkable.

One evening, as she sat on the couch with a bowl of instant noodles, her phone buzzed again. She didn’t even need to look to know who it was.

“Hello?” she answered, her voice flat.

“Y/N, have you thought about what I said?” her mother’s voice was softer this time, almost pleading. “You don’t have to stay there. You can come home. We need you here.”

“I can’t,” Y/N said, her throat tightening. “I need to do this for myself.”

“Your siblings miss you. I miss you.”

Y/N’s grip on the phone tightened. “I miss you too. But I can’t come back. Not now.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Fine,” her mother said, her tone laced with disappointment. “Do what you want.”

The call ended, leaving Y/N feeling hollow. She set the phone down and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. She’d thought putting distance between them would help, but the weight of her mother’s expectations still bore down on her, even from thousands of miles away.

--

The following week, Y/N found herself walking aimlessly through Vondelpark, the crisp autumn air a welcome distraction from the thoughts swirling in her head. She’d taken to spending her lunch breaks there, finding solace in the rustling leaves and the laughter of children playing nearby.

She sat on a bench, pulling out a small notebook she’d started carrying with her. Writing had always been a form of escape for her, a way to process the chaos in her mind. She scribbled down a few lines, her thoughts tumbling onto the page:

I just want to feel loved. Truly loved. Not out of obligation or guilt. Loved for who I am, not for what I can do for others.

She stared at the words, her chest tightening. It felt selfish to admit, but it was the truth. For once in her life, she wanted someone to take care of her, to make her feel safe. She wanted what she’d never had—unconditional love.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The morning sunlight poured through the window of the cozy townhouse nestled in a quiet neighborhood of Amsterdam. Jimin stretched lazily, her fingers brushing against the edge of her soft duvet. The faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted up from the kitchen, signaling the start of another peaceful day.

Her family was always an anchor of stability in her life. Her mother, a warm and nurturing presence, was undoubtedly the heart of their home. She had a knack for making anyone feel welcome, whether it was through her perfectly brewed tea or her way of listening that made you feel truly heard. Jimin’s father balanced her mother’s kindness with his grounded practicality, always ready with a steady hand or a piece of advice. Her older sister, Hana, was her confidante and occasional partner-in-crime, always there to lend an ear or offer her unabashed honesty. Together, they formed a bubble of unconditional love that Jimin knew she was lucky to have.

Yet, even with this steadfast support system, a void lingered in her heart—an unspoken yearning for someone to share her life with.

Jimin rose from her bed, padding over to the window to look out at the serene street below. “Another day,” she murmured to herself. She glanced at her phone to see a string of messages from her best friends lighting up the screen.

Aeri: “Morning! Don’t forget, you’re walking Cooper today.”

Minjeong: “Bet she forgets and we have to chase the dog again.”

Yizhuo: “Minjeong’s just mad because Cooper likes Jimin better.”

Jimin chuckled, her heart lightening. Her friends were like family. They had been inseparable since childhood, navigating the ups and downs of life together. If her family provided her foundation, her friends were the walls and roof that sheltered her from life’s storms. But even with them, Jimin felt that persistent ache for something… or someone… she couldn’t quite name.

--

After a quick breakfast, Jimin arrived at Aeri’s house to pick up Cooper, Aeri’s spirited greyhound. Cooper bounded up to her as soon as she stepped through the door, his tail wagging furiously.

“Hey, buddy!” Jimin crouched down to ruffle his fur, earning a happy bark. “Ready for a walk?”

Aeri leaned against the doorway, smirking. “You’re spoiling him, you know. He’ll never want to come back to me at this rate.”

“Can you blame him? I’m way more fun,” Jimin teased, clipping on Cooper's leash.

“Just don’t lose him,” Aeri called as Jimin and Cooper headed out.

The park was a short walk from Aeri’s place, a lush expanse of greenery dotted with families, joggers, and couples enjoying the crisp morning air. Cooper tugged at the leash, eager to explore. Jimin let him lead the way, her thoughts drifting.

As much as she loved her life, it often felt… predictable. Her days were filled with love and laughter, but there was a part of her that craved something more. She wanted to be the kind of person who could offer someone the same sense of warmth and security her family had always given her. She wanted someone to come home to, someone to share her quiet moments with, someone who would trust her to take care of them.

“Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic,” she mused aloud, earning a curious tilt of Cooper’s head.

--

Later that afternoon, Jimin met up with her friends at their favorite café. The cozy space buzzed with chatter, the scent of freshly baked pastries mingling with the rich aroma of coffee. Minjeong was already seated, scrolling through her phone, while Yizhuo animatedly recounted a story to Aeri.

“You’re late,” Minjeong said without looking up as Jimin slid into the booth.

“Cooper wanted to inspect every single tree in the park,” Jimin replied, grinning.

“Sure he did,” Minjeong said dryly, but the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement.

“Speaking of dogs,” Aeri began, “have you guys noticed how much Jimin’s been sighing lately? Like a lovesick puppy?”

Jimin’s cheeks flushed. “I have not!”

“Oh, come on,” Yizhuo said, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You’ve got that faraway look in your eyes. Spill. Is there someone you’ve got your eye on?”

“No,” Jimin said firmly, but her friends weren’t convinced.

“You know,” Aeri said thoughtfully, “it’s okay to admit you’re looking for someone. We all know you’ve got that whole ‘caretaker’ thing going on. You’d be a great girlfriend.”

Jimin groaned. “Why do I even hang out with you guys?”

“Because you love us,” Yizhuo quipped.

Despite their teasing, Jimin knew they were right. She was looking for someone, even if she didn’t know who yet.

--

That night, Jimin sat on her bed, scrolling aimlessly through her phone. She paused on a photo from the park earlier that day—Cooper sniffing a patch of flowers, his grey fur glowing in the sunlight. It was such a simple moment, yet it had brought her so much joy.

“Maybe that’s all I’m missing,” she thought. “Someone to share the little moments with.”

She set her phone down and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Her life was full of love and laughter, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was someone out there who needed her just as much as she needed them.

And maybe, just maybe, she would find them.

With that thought, Jimin drifted off to sleep, her dreams filled with fleeting images of laughter, warmth, and a pair of eyes she hadn’t yet met but somehow already knew.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The morning air was crisp and fresh, carrying the faint scent of flowers blooming across the park. Jimin tugged at the leash in her hand, glancing down at the sleek Greyhound trotting alongside her. Cooper’s thin frame and long legs made him look almost regal, but his excitement for sniffing every patch of grass made Jimin chuckle.

"Cooper, can we stick to the path for once?" Jimin muttered, gently tugging the leash as the Greyhound veered toward another tree.

She’d agreed to take Aeri’s dog out for a walk, something she didn’t mind doing since it gave her an excuse to enjoy the peaceful weekend morning. The park was alive with activity—families on picnic blankets, joggers weaving through the paths, and couples strolling hand in hand.

Jimin barely noticed the lone figure sitting on the edge of the fountain, head bowed as if lost in thought. You had come to the park seeking a bit of calm amidst the chaos of adjusting to your new life. The sound of the fountain’s gentle splashes mixed with the distant chatter of park-goers, providing a soothing backdrop to your wandering thoughts.

Suddenly, a blur of movement snapped you out of your reverie. Before you could react, a Greyhound barreled toward you, its leash trailing behind it.

"Whoa!" you yelped as the dog jumped up, placing his paws on your lap and eagerly licking your face.

"Cooper!" a voice rang out, frantic and apologetic.

Despite the surprise, a laugh bubbled up from your chest. "Okay, okay! I get it, you’re excited!" you said, gently scratching the dog behind his ears.

Jimin sprinted toward you, her heart pounding from both exertion and embarrassment. She grabbed Cooper’s leash and tugged gently. "Cooper, af! Kom eraf!"

At her command, Cooper obediently stepped back, though his tail wagged with unbridled enthusiasm.

"I am so, so sorry!" Jimin blurted, her words spilling out in Dutch. "Hij doet dit normaal gesproken niet—uh, sorry! I mean... uh..."

She froze as soon as you looked up, her breath catching. Your laughter had already left her stunned, but now, meeting your gaze for the first time, Jimin felt her heart lurch. You were looking at her with a mix of amusement and curiosity, your eyes sparkling in a way that made her brain short-circuit.

Realizing she’d spoken Dutch, you blinked, scrambling to piece together the few words you recognized. "Sorry... I don’t speak Dutch," you said, your voice hesitant but kind.

Jimin’s face turned crimson. "Oh! Oh, right! English, sorry," she stammered, switching languages. "He doesn’t usually do this—I mean, he’s usually... better behaved?"

She winced at how clunky her words sounded, her usual confidence completely abandoning her under your gaze.

"It’s okay," you said, a smile tugging at your lips. You brushed some dog hair off your clothes. "He’s sweet. Maybe a little too enthusiastic, but sweet."

Jimin exhaled a laugh, relief washing over her. "Yeah, that’s Cooper for you. Always ready to make an impression."

You crouched slightly, giving the Greyhound one last pat. "Well, he succeeded. Is he yours?"

Jimin shook her head quickly, glad to have a straightforward question to answer. "No, he’s not mine. I’m just watching him for a friend. I’m Jimin, by the way."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should introduce yourself. But there was something disarming about her—the way she seemed both nervous and sincere.

"Y/N," you said, standing and offering your hand.

Jimin hesitated before taking it, her touch warm and a little unsure. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. And I really am sorry about Cooper."

"Really, it’s fine," you replied, waving off her concern. "Honestly, I needed a distraction today. He’s adorable."

Jimin glanced at Cooper, who was now sitting obediently, his tail wagging lazily. "Adorable is one way to put it. He’s also a bit of a menace."

You laughed softly, and Jimin felt her chest tighten. The sound was so genuine, like a spark of light cutting through her nerves.

"So," Jimin began, shifting her weight awkwardly, "are you touring here?"

You tilted your head, the cliché making you grin. "Not really. I actually just moved a couple weeks ago, so I’m still figuring things out."

"Wow," Jimin said, genuinely impressed. "That’s a big change. How are you finding it so far?"

You shrugged, your gaze drifting toward the fountain. "It’s... an adjustment. Some days are harder than others."

Something in your tone made Jimin pause. She wanted to ask more, to know why your smile seemed tinged with something wistful. But instead, she nodded, her voice gentle. "I can imagine. If you ever need tips or recommendations, I’m kind of an expert. Born and raised here."

Your smile softened, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a little less like an outsider. "I might take you up on that."

“Well, I really feel like I owe you something for all this,” Jimin said, gesturing to Cooper, who wagged his tail innocently as if he weren’t the culprit of the chaos.

Y/N waved it off, awkwardly chuckling. “Really, it’s fine. No need to apologize.”

Jimin shook her head, determination shining in her eyes. “How about I buy you a coffee? My treat. I insist. That way we can start the tour”

Y/N hesitated, glancing down at her phone as if she could escape the situation. “You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” Jimin interrupted gently, “but I want to. Please?”

Faced with Jimin’s earnest smile, Y/N found herself nodding despite her reservations. “Okay, sure.”

--

They walked together to a small café nearby, Cooper trotting beside them, now behaving like a model citizen. The atmosphere was a little awkward at first; Y/N wasn’t used to spontaneous social interactions, especially with strangers.

Jimin, sensing the tension, started to ramble. “So, do you live around here? Or were you just visiting the park?”

“I live close by,” Y/N replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I like to come here on weekends to unwind.”

“That’s nice. I come here pretty often too. Well, not usually with Cooper—that’s Aeri’s dog. She’s one of my best friends. She couldn’t walk him today, so here I am.”

Y/N nodded, her lips twitching into a small smile. “He’s sweet. A little intense, but sweet.”

Jimin grinned. “That’s a perfect description of him.”

By the time they reached the café, Jimin had managed to pull a few more details out of Y/N: she’s taking intensive dutch classes, worked a remote job, and didn’t know many people yet.

Inside the cozy café, they sat by a window with steaming cups of coffee in front of them. Cooper lay sprawled under the table, finally tired out.

Jimin shared funny stories about Cooper and her friends, while Y/N talked about her favorite hobbies and places she’d discovered so far.

Jimin found herself captivated by Y/N’s laughter. It wasn’t loud or boisterous, but it was genuine, and Jimin decided she wanted to hear it as often as possible.

By the time their cups were empty, Jimin didn’t want the moment to end. As they stepped out of the café, she took a deep breath.

“Can I—uh—get your number?” Jimin asked, scratching the back of her neck nervously. “You know, so I can let you know when Cooper’s planning his next ambush.”

Y/N laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Sure.”

They exchanged numbers, and Jimin couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across her face.

As they parted ways, Jimin did a little jump of happiness. Hearing a giggle, she looked back to see that Y/N was still there, looking at her. Blushing, she clumsily waved goodbye and walked Cooper back to Aeri’s place, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

Y/N watched her retreating figure, a faint smile lingering on her lips. It had been a long time since she felt this kind of warmth.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The weekend had been unusually lively for you, though not in the traditional sense. Your apartment remained your sanctuary, the world outside still too daunting to face for long. Yet, your phone buzzed more frequently than it had in months, each notification bringing a smile to your face.

Jimin: "Do you think Cooper knows he’s a Greyhound, or does he just think he’s a really fast human?" You snorted at the absurdity of her question, shaking your head as you replied.

You: "Fast human, 100%. With questionable manners."

Jimin: "Hey, Cooper has AMAZING manners! He only licked your face because he sensed you’re nice." Jimin: "…Or maybe he just thought you smelled good. Either way, he’s the goodest boy!"

Her messages were a mix of humor and sweetness, each one pulling you further out of the fog that had settled over your mind since you’d arrived in this new country. It was strange how quickly Jimin had become a presence in your life. Her texts were the highlight of your days, her playful energy a stark contrast to the loneliness you often felt.

You spent most of Saturday exchanging messages with her, laughing at her jokes and learning more about her life. She told you about Cooper’s quirks, her friends’ antics, and her favorite spots in the city. It was easy, effortless even, and you found yourself wishing you could hold onto this feeling a little longer.

Sunday morning was no different. Jimin sent you a picture of Cooper lounging on her couch, his long legs sprawled awkwardly.

Jimin: "Look at this absolute model. He’s posing for Vogue, clearly." You: "GQ, maybe. He’s got the ‘brooding male lead’ look down."

Your laughter filled the quiet apartment, a sound that had been absent for far too long. But just as you were settling into the comfort of this new routine, your phone buzzed again, and your heart sank.

Mom.

The name on the screen felt heavier than it should have, and for a moment, you considered letting it go to voicemail. But the guilt crept in quickly, as it always did, and you sighed, swiping to answer.

“Hello?” you said, keeping your tone neutral.

“Y/N,” your mom’s voice came through, sharp and impatient. “Finally. Do you ever check your phone? I’ve been calling all weekend!”

You closed your eyes, already bracing yourself for the familiar cycle. “I’ve been busy, Mom,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just trying to get things done.”

“Busy?” she scoffed. “Too busy to call your own mother? You have time to move halfway across the world but not to pick up the phone?”

Her words stung, as they always did, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “I’m not ignoring you,” you said carefully. “I just needed some time for myself.”

“Time for yourself,” she repeated, her tone dripping with disdain. “And what about your family, Y/N? What about me? Do you ever think about how hard it is for me to keep everything together without you?”

Your chest tightened, the familiar guilt settling in like an old friend. “Mom, I didn’t leave to hurt you. I just needed space to figure things out.”

“Space,” she said bitterly. “From your own family? From the mother who’s done everything for you? Do you even care about us anymore?”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut, but you bit your tongue, refusing to let the frustration spill out. “I do care,” you said softly. “I just—”

“Forget it,” she snapped, cutting you off. “You clearly don’t have time for me. I’ll let you get back to your oh-so-busy life.”

The line went dead before you could respond. You stared at the phone in your hand, the silence in the room now deafening. You knew you hadn’t done anything wrong, but the weight of her words pressed down on you all the same.

You tried to shake off the heaviness, but it clung to you like a shadow. Desperate for a distraction, you opened your chat with Jimin, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

You: "Are you free for a call?"

Her reply came almost instantly.

Jimin: "Always! Give me 5 mins to grab headphones."

You smiled faintly at her eagerness, even as your chest still felt tight. A few moments later, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You hesitated for a second before answering.

“Hey,” Jimin’s voice was bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to your mood.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice quieter than usual.

There was a pause on the other end, and you could almost feel her concern. “Are you okay?” she asked gently.

You hesitated, not ready to unpack the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” you admitted.

Jimin didn’t press, her voice lightening instead. “That’s okay. Want me to tell you about how Cooper tried to steal my breakfast this morning?”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah. Tell me everything.”

And just like that, Jimin launched into a dramatic retelling of her morning, complete with exaggerated impressions of Cooper’s antics. Her voice was animated, full of warmth and humor, and it didn’t take long for her stories to pull you out of your head.

“I swear, if he had opposable thumbs, he’d be unstoppable,” Jimin said, finishing her tale of how Cooper managed to knock her cereal bowl off the counter.

You laughed, the sound feeling almost foreign after the weight of the day. “Maybe you should hire him as a food critic. He’s clearly got opinions.”

Jimin gasped theatrically. “Brilliant idea. I’ll start his blog tomorrow: Cooper’s Culinary Adventures.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics—your favorite foods, her favorite spots in the city, and a heated debate about whether pineapple belonged on pizza (Jimin was adamantly against it, to your amusement).

As the hours slipped by, you found yourself relaxing more and more, the tightness in your chest easing with each passing moment.

“Thanks for this,” you said quietly, interrupting her mid-sentence.

“For what?” Jimin asked, her voice genuinely puzzled.

“For... just being here,” you admitted. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

Her voice softened. “Hey, anytime. Really. I like talking to you.”

Your heart warmed at her sincerity, and for the first time that day, the weight of your mom’s words didn’t feel so crushing.

The call stretched late into the night, neither of you wanting to hang up. Jimin’s laughter filled the empty corners of your apartment, her warmth seeping through the phone and wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

By the time you finally said goodnight, the heaviness in your chest had lifted

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The scent of spices and sizzling food filled the air as you approached Jimin’s apartment. Your stomach churned—not from hunger, but from nerves. Meeting Jimin’s friends felt like stepping into uncharted territory. You weren’t sure if you were ready for this yet, but Jimin had insisted.

“They’re going to love you,” she’d said, her voice warm and confident over the phone.

You adjusted your grip on the small bouquet of flowers you’d brought—a gesture you hoped would make a good first impression. Maybe this would be okay.

When the door swung open, Jimin stood there, dressed in a simple yet effortlessly stylish sweater and jeans. Her warm smile eased some of your tension immediately. “Hey, you made it!” she said, stepping aside to let you in.

Her apartment was cozy, with string lights lining the walls and the faint hum of music playing in the background. The voices of her friends carried from the kitchen, punctuated by bursts of laughter.

“You didn’t have to bring flowers,” Jimin said, taking the bouquet from your hands. “But they’re so pretty. Thank you!”

“I just thought it’d be nice,” you replied, your voice quiet but steady.

Jimin placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Seriously, they’re going to love you. Promise.”

You nodded, though the knot of anxiety in your stomach remained as you followed her deeper into the apartment.

As you entered the kitchen, three people were clustered around a counter piled high with food. Their laughter faded as Jimin announced your arrival.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” she said, her tone bright and cheerful.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward you. For a split second, you wanted to retreat, but their faces broke into warm smiles that made you feel a little less out of place.

“Finally!” said a tall girl with sharp features and an easy grin. “Jimin’s been talking about you nonstop. I’m Aeri, by the way.”

“Minjeong,” another introduced herself, shorter with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Nice to meet the person who’s been monopolizing Jimin’s attention lately.”

“Don’t mind them,” the last one said, her tone playful. She was bubbly and energetic, her bright smile instantly infectious. “I’m Yizhuo. And I promise we’re not that scary. Just a little.”

You smiled shyly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s nice to meet you all,” you said, clutching the strap of your bag tightly.

“Come on, sit down,” Aeri said, gesturing to the table. “Jimin’s been cooking all day. She refuses to let us help, so if it’s bad, we’re blaming her.”

“Excuse me!” Jimin interjected, hands on her hips. “You’re the one who burned the rice the last time we let you cook.”

The banter flew back and forth easily, the teasing and laughter filling the room with a warmth that started to chip away at your nerves.

The table was laden with dishes—steaming bowls of pasta, fresh salad, and crispy garlic bread. As you took a seat, you noticed the effort Jimin had put into making everything perfect.

“This looks amazing,” you said, glancing at her.

She grinned. “Thanks. Cooking is kind of my thing.”

As everyone dug in, the conversation flowed effortlessly. They teased Jimin mercilessly, recounting stories that had you laughing despite yourself.

“Did she tell you about the time she fell into the canal trying to impress someone?” Minjeong asked, her grin wicked.

“Hey!” Jimin protested, her cheeks flushing. “That was years ago!”

“And yet, here we are,” Aeri said, smirking.

“She never learns,” Yizhuo added. “The other day, she tripped over Cooper’s leash and spilled coffee all over herself.”

“That wasn’t my fault! Cooper’s deceptively strong!” Jimin defended, throwing a napkin at Yizhuo.

“So, Y/N,” Aeri said, leaning forward with a curious grin, “what’s your deal? How’d you end up stuck with Jimin?”

You hesitated, but their faces were open and inviting. “We met at the park,” you said, glancing at Jimin. “Your dog kind of ambushed me.”

Classic Cooper,” Minjeong said, shaking her head with mock exasperation.

“Sounds about right,” Yizhuo agreed. “But hey, at least something good came out of it.”

You smiled, feeling a little more comfortable as the conversation turned to lighter topics—favorite movies, travel destinations, and the best local restaurants.

At one point, Yizhuo turned to you with a mischievous grin. “So, Jimin’s been on her best behavior, right? No embarrassing serenades or awkward pickup lines?”

“Yizhuo!” Jimin groaned, burying her face in her hands.

You laughed softly. “She’s been great. No serenades yet.”

“Key word: yet,” Minjeong teased, earning another napkin thrown her way.

As the night went on, you felt the weight of your anxiety begin to lift. Jimin’s friends had a way of making you feel like you belonged, their easy camaraderie wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

By the time the plates were cleared and everyone settled into a more relaxed conversation, you found yourself leaning back in your chair, feeling a sense of comfort you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So,” Aeri said, raising her glass with a teasing grin, “if Jimin ever messes this up, just know we’re all here to steal you for ourselves. No pressure, Jimin.”

Jimin groaned dramatically. “Can you guys not scare her away?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. “I think I’ll stick around for now,” you said, glancing at Jimin with a soft smile.

Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the room seemed to fade away.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The evening sun cast a golden glow over the city as you and Jimin strolled through a quiet street, the rhythmic hum of bicycles filling the air. The two of you had spent the day wandering through local shops, sharing little anecdotes and indulging in pastries from a nearby bakery. With every moment, you felt a little lighter, your laughter coming more easily around her.

“You have powdered sugar on your face,” Jimin said, pointing at the corner of your mouth with a teasing smile.

“Where?” you asked, swiping at your cheek.

Jimin shook her head, chuckling. “No, not there. Here—” She reached out, her thumb brushing gently against your skin. The touch was brief but enough to make your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, looking away to hide your flustered expression.

Jimin’s grin widened, but she didn’t tease you further. “I’m just saying, it’s a sign you enjoyed the pastry.”

“Maybe I did,” you replied, your voice softer now.

The two of you continued walking, the atmosphere comfortable and filled with the kind of quiet contentment that didn’t need words. But as you reached a small bench by the canal, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of the moment.

You hesitated before pulling it out. The screen lit up with a name that made your heart sink: Mom. For a moment, you considered letting it go to voicemail. But the guilt that always lingered when you ignored her calls was too heavy to bear.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you said, stepping away from Jimin.

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she nodded. “Take your time.”

You walked a few paces away, answering the call with a tentative, “Hello?”

Your mom’s voice came through, sharp and insistent. “Y/N, finally. I’ve been calling all day. Why haven’t you answered?”

“I’ve been busy,” you said, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

“Busy? What could you possibly be doing that’s more important than answering your mother?” she demanded, her voice rising slightly.

You sighed, already feeling the familiar weight settle over your chest. “I’m just out right now. I can’t talk long.”

“Out? With who? Are you making bad decisions again?” she asked, the accusation in her tone cutting deep.

“No, Mom,” you said firmly, trying to keep your composure. “I’m just with a friend.”

Your mom’s tone softened slightly, but the edge remained. “You’re always so distant these days. I don’t understand why you can’t make more time for your family. Do you even care about us anymore?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Of course I care,” you said, your voice quieter now. “But I’m trying to build my own life here. I need space.”

“Space?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. “You’ve had all the space in the world since you left. But do you even think about how hard this has been for us? For me?”

You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Mom, I—”

“No, Y/N. You don’t understand. You’ve abandoned us, and now you’re too busy to even talk? What kind of daughter does that?”

Her words, laced with guilt and frustration, made your grip on the phone tighten. “I’m trying my best,” you said, your voice breaking slightly.

“Clearly, your best isn’t enough,” she said sharply before the line went dead.

You stared at your phone, the screen dimming as the call ended. The knot in your stomach tightened, and the guilt clawed at you, even though you knew you hadn’t done anything wrong.

You turned back toward Jimin, who was watching you with concern. She stood as you approached, her expression soft.

“Everything okay?” she asked gently.

You tried to nod, but the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. Instead, you sat on the bench, staring at the ground.

Jimin hesitated for a moment before sitting beside you. She didn’t press you for details, but her presence was steady and comforting.

You forced a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Jimin studied you for a moment, her gaze searching. “You sure?”

You hesitated, then nodded quickly. “I just don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” she said softly, her tone understanding. She didn’t push, didn’t pry, and you were grateful for it.

imin didn’t look away, though, her presence steady and grounding.

After a while, she broke the quiet. “You know, if Cooper were here, he’d probably be trying to sit on your lap right now. All 30 kilograms of him.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Yeah? Sounds like a handful.”

Jimin grinned, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “He is. But he’s also a giant baby. Last week, he tried to hide behind me because he saw a pigeon.”

“A pigeon?” you repeated, laughter bubbling up despite the heaviness in your chest.

Jimin’s smile faltered, her tone turning sheepish. “Okay, so... I might’ve been a little scared, too.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, are you telling me you’re afraid of pigeons?”

Jimin groaned, burying her face in her hands. “It’s not a fear! It’s just... they’re unpredictable, okay? They move too fast, and they’re always staring at you like they know your secrets.”

You burst out laughing, the sound startling even yourself. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, I’m glad my suffering amuses you,” Jimin said with a mock pout, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her teasing.

“Seriously, though,” you said, your laughter subsiding into a grin, “a Greyhound and a grown woman scared of a pigeon? That’s a story for the ages.”

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve been on the receiving end of a pigeon’s wrath,” Jimin said, crossing her arms in mock indignation.

Her animated expressions and playful tone pulled you further away from the storm of emotions left by the call. The ache in your chest didn’t disappear, but it dulled under the warmth of Jimin’s company.

“Thank you,” you said suddenly, your voice quiet but sincere.

Jimin looked at you, her brows lifting in surprise. “For what?”

“For just... being here,” you said, meeting her gaze briefly before looking away.

A soft smile spread across her face. “Always.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of lighthearted conversation and quiet companionship. Jimin didn’t push you to share more, didn’t try to fix what she couldn’t understand. Instead, she simply stayed by your side, her presence a steady reassurance that you didn’t have to face everything alone.

And for now, that was enough.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The café was bustling with life, the hum of conversation mixing with the clatter of coffee cups and the hiss of the espresso machine. You and Jimin had claimed a small table by the window, the sunlight streaming in and casting a warm glow on her features.

As always, Jimin had a way of making you feel at ease, her laughter contagious and her stories brimming with energy. But today, your mind was elsewhere, pulled into a spiral you couldn’t seem to escape.

It started when a girl had walked up to your table—a tall, confident woman with a dazzling smile. She greeted Jimin with an ease that spoke of familiarity, her tone playful as they exchanged a few quick jokes. You tried to focus on your coffee, pretending the interaction didn’t bother you, but the way Jimin’s face lit up as they talked sent a pang of unease through your chest.

The woman left as quickly as she’d arrived, waving goodbye to Jimin with a wink. Jimin returned to your conversation seamlessly, completely unaware of the way your heart was now hammering in your chest.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. Jimin wasn’t yours; you weren’t dating. She was just being her naturally kind and warm self. But the thought didn’t stop the flood of doubts that followed.

Why would someone like Jimin ever want someone like you?

You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, your gaze fixed on the swirling liquid. Jimin’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“Y/N?”

You looked up, startled to find her watching you with concern.

“Everything okay? You’ve been quiet.”

You forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

Jimin didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she launched into a story about her friend’s latest antics, her animated gestures drawing a small, genuine laugh from you.

But even as you smiled, the doubts lingered.

--

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as your thoughts raced. Images of Jimin laughing with that woman played on a loop in your mind, each one twisting the knife of insecurity a little deeper.

You reminded yourself again that Jimin wasn’t yours. She had every right to talk to whoever she wanted. But no matter how much you reasoned with yourself, the feelings wouldn’t go away.

It wasn’t just jealousy—it was something deeper, more insidious. A voice in your head whispered that you weren’t good enough for someone like Jimin. That she deserved someone brighter, someone more put together, someone who didn’t carry the baggage you did.

By the time morning came, the weight of those thoughts felt unbearable.

--

Jimin noticed immediately when you met up that afternoon. She always noticed.

“You’re quiet again,” she said, tilting her head as the two of you walked along the canal. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

You nodded quickly, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But Jimin stopped walking, her hand gently catching your arm to stop you too.

“Y/N,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, your first instinct to deflect. But the concern in her eyes made it impossible to lie.

“It’s nothing, really,” you said, your voice shaky. “I’m just... in my head, I guess.”

Jimin didn’t let go of your arm. “In your head about what?”

You looked away, your gaze fixed on the water. “I just... I feel like I don’t measure up sometimes. Like I’m not... enough.”

The words felt heavy as they left your mouth, and you braced yourself for her reaction.

But Jimin didn’t look at you with pity or disbelief. She looked at you with so much care it almost hurt.

“Why would you think that?” she asked gently.

You shrugged, still unable to meet her gaze. “Because it’s true. I mean, look at you—you’re amazing, Jimin. You’re kind and beautiful and confident. You could have anyone you wanted. Why would you ever...”

You trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Jimin stepped closer, her hand moving from your arm to your hand. Her touch was steady, grounding.

“Hey,” she said, her voice firm but kind. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to anyone else. You’re amazing too, Y/N.”

You shook your head, your throat tightening. “You don’t understand. I’m a mess, Jimin. I’ve got so much baggage, and I’m not... I’m not like you.”

Jimin squeezed your hand, her grip warm and reassuring. “You’re right—you’re not like me. And that’s a good thing. I don’t want you to be like me, Y/N. I want you to be you.”

Her words made your chest tighten, the sincerity in her voice breaking through the wall you’d built around yourself.

“But what if me isn’t enough?” you whispered, the question breaking your voice.

Jimin stepped closer, her other hand coming up to gently rest on your shoulder. “Y/N, you are more than enough. You’re kind, and funny, and smart. You make people feel seen and heard. You make me feel... happy. Really happy.”

You blinked, her words sinking in slowly. “I do?”

Jimin nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. “You do. Every time I see you, every time we talk, I feel like my day gets brighter. You don’t have to be anyone else or do anything special—you just have to be you. That’s enough for me.”

The lump in your throat grew, but this time it wasn’t from sadness. It was from the overwhelming warmth of Jimin’s words.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice trembling.

Jimin smiled, her hands giving yours a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

For the first time in what felt like days, the weight on your chest began to lift. Jimin’s words didn’t erase your insecurities completely, but they made them feel smaller, more manageable.

“Can we... just keep walking for a bit?” you asked, needing a moment to process everything.

“Of course,” Jimin said, her smile gentle. She let go of your hand, but only to fall into step beside you, her presence steady and comforting.

As you walked together, the canal glinting in the afternoon sun, you realized something important: Jimin saw you—truly saw you—and she didn’t run away.

Maybe, just maybe, you could start seeing yourself the way she did.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Jimin had texted you the day after the call that had left you shaken. Her message was simple:

“I was thinking... maybe we could hang out this weekend? Just you and me? Nothing too fancy, just... a date?”

Your heart had skipped a beat at the word "date." It was the first time she’d said it outright, and though the thought filled you with nervous excitement, you agreed.

So now you stood in your apartment, nervously smoothing down your outfit, when a knock sounded at the door. You opened it to find Jimin standing there, a shy smile on her face—and a small bouquet of tulips in her hands.

“These are for you,” she said, her voice a little sheepish as she held them out.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “You brought me flowers?”

Jimin shrugged, her cheeks flushing. “I figured... I don’t know, I thought you might like them.”

A soft laugh escaped you as you took the bouquet, the vibrant petals a burst of color against the duller tones of your thoughts. “I do. Thank you, Jimin. They’re beautiful.”

Jimin’s smile grew, and she glanced down at her shoes. “I’m glad you like them.”

You invited her in, setting the flowers in a vase with water before grabbing your coat. “So, what’s the plan for this date?”

Jimin’s grin turned playful as she said, “You’ll see.”

The surprise didn’t last long, though. Instead of a bustling restaurant or a noisy café, Jimin led you to her apartment. The choice made your heart settle—it was thoughtful, quiet, and personal, exactly what you needed.

Her place was cozy and inviting, with soft lighting and a faint scent of vanilla. The living room was small but thoughtfully decorated, filled with plants and little knick-knacks that spoke to Jimin’s personality. A blanket was draped over the couch, and the coffee table was set with snacks, two glasses, and a bottle of wine.

“I figured we could keep it simple,” Jimin said as she slipped off her shoes. “Movies, snacks, maybe a little wine? No pressure, though—just whatever feels comfortable.”

“Perfect,” you said, meaning it. After the emotional turmoil of the past week, this kind of quiet, personal setting was exactly what you needed.

You settled on the couch, and Jimin joined you, a movie queued up but forgotten as the two of you started talking. Jimin had a way of making you feel at ease, her energy infectious and her laughter like a warm hug.

Hours passed without you even realizing it, the two of you sharing stories, teasing each other, and laughing until your sides hurt. But as the evening wore on, the warmth of the moment began to stir something deeper within you—a longing to share the parts of yourself you usually kept hidden.

Jimin must have sensed the shift because she turned to you, her smile softening. “You okay? You’ve gone quiet.”

You hesitated, your fingers picking at the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. “I’m okay... I think.”

Jimin didn’t push. She just waited, her presence steady and reassuring, giving you the space to find your words.

Taking a deep breath, you began. “I haven’t told you much about my past... about why I moved here.”

Jimin’s expression grew serious, her gaze never leaving yours. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready,” she said gently.

“I want to,” you said, surprising yourself with how certain you felt. “I think... I need to.”

Jimin nodded, her body angled toward you as if to shield you from the rest of the world.

“It’s my mom,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “She’s... she’s always been hard on me. Critical, demanding, never satisfied. Nothing I ever did was enough for her. And when I told her I was leaving, that I needed space, she made me feel like I was the worst person in the world for even thinking about it.”

Your hands trembled as you spoke, and Jimin reached out, her hand warm and steady on yours.

“She’d call me selfish, ungrateful,” you continued, your voice breaking. “She’d guilt me, make me feel like I owed her everything. And even now, when I’m here, she still calls and texts constantly, like she can’t let me go. And I...” You paused, swallowing hard. “I know I did the right thing by leaving, but I can’t stop feeling guilty. Like I failed her.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you blinked them away, but they fell anyway. “And it’s not just her. It’s... it’s everything. She’s in my head, telling me I’m not good enough, that I’ll never be good enough. And no matter how much I try to drown it out, it’s always there.”

Jimin’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, her touch grounding you. “Y/N,” she said softly, her voice filled with emotion. “I’m so sorry you’ve been carrying this. You didn’t deserve it—not then, not now.”

Her words broke something in you, and the tears came harder, spilling down your cheeks in a torrent of emotion you couldn’t hold back. Jimin didn’t say anything more; she just pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly as you cried into her shoulder.

For the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

When the tears subsided, you pulled back, your face warm with embarrassment. “Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping at your cheeks.

“Don’t be,” Jimin said, her voice firm. “Never apologize for feeling what you feel.”

You nodded, your throat tight. “I just... I want to feel loved, Jimin. Really loved. Not judged or criticized or made to feel small. I want to feel... safe. And cared for. Is that too much to ask?”

Jimin’s hands cupped your face, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Y/N, you deserve all of that and more. You deserve to be loved, to feel safe, to be cared for in every way. And I want to be the one to give that to you.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jimin...”

“I mean it,” she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. “I know it won’t be easy, and I know you’ve been hurt. But I promise you, I’ll be patient. I’ll prove to you every day that you’re worth loving, that you’re more than enough just as you are. You don’t have to do anything or be anything for me—you just have to be you. That’s all I need.”

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from pain. They were from the overwhelming warmth of her words, the kindness and love she poured into them.

“Why would you want to do that for me?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Jimin smiled, her thumbs brushing away your tears. “Because you’re worth it. Because you’ve already made my world brighter just by being in it. And because... I think I’m falling for you.”

Her confession took your breath away, the weight of it settling in your chest like a warm glow.

Jimin took a deep breath, her hands still holding your face. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

Your heart swelled, a mix of fear and joy swirling inside you. But as you looked into her eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity and warmth.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Yes, I will.”

A radiant smile spread across Jimin’s face, and before you could process what was happening, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours.

The kiss was soft and gentle, a promise in itself. It felt like the walls you’d built around yourself were finally crumbling, replaced by the warmth and safety of Jimin’s embrace.

When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her eyes closed as she whispered, “You’re safe with me, Y/N. Always.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believed it.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Life with Jimin was a series of small, joyful steps forward.

In the weeks following your first official date, the two of you settled into a rhythm. Weekends became sacred—a time for just the two of you. One weekend, you introduced Jimin to your favorite books, curling up on her couch as you read aloud together. Another, she taught you to make her grandmother’s favorite dumpling recipe, both of you laughing as you fumbled with the dough.

“You’re better at this than I thought,” Jimin teased, nudging you with her elbow as you successfully folded another dumpling.

“Natural talent,” you joked, feeling lighter than you had in years.

It wasn’t just weekends, though. Jimin had a way of weaving herself into your daily life in the most unexpected ways—sending you silly selfies in the middle of her workday, texting you goodnight every evening without fail, and making you laugh with her ridiculous dad jokes.

And you found yourself wanting to do the same for her. You started surprising her with little things—a playlist of songs you thought she’d like, a sketch of her dog that made her beam with delight, or simply a thoughtful text to brighten her day.

It was new, unfamiliar, but also wonderful. For the first time in a long time, you felt loved, cared for, and seen.

But as you were beginning to build something beautiful with Jimin, the shadows of your past refused to stay quiet.

It was a quiet Tuesday evening when your phone rang, the name on the screen freezing the smile on your face.

Mom.

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the screen. But the part of you that still craved her approval won out, and you answered.

“Hi, Mom,” you said softly, your voice tinged with trepidation.

Her tone was sharp from the start. “So, you’re too busy to call your mother these days?”

You closed your eyes, the weight of her words settling on your chest. “I’ve been busy with work and... things. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” she snapped. “Do you even care about how I feel? Or is this just about you, as always?”

The accusations came quickly, each one sharper than the last. No matter how much you tried to defend yourself, to explain, she wouldn’t hear it.

“I gave you everything,” she said, her voice breaking into a sob. “And this is how you repay me? By running away, by abandoning me? You’re worthless. Selfish and worthless.”

Her words sliced through you, reopening old wounds you thought were healing. You managed to stammer out a weak “I have to go,” before hanging up, your hands trembling as you dropped the phone onto the table.

You tried to breathe, but your chest felt tight, each inhale jagged and shallow. The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of her words pressing down until you couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

Your phone buzzed on the table, but you didn’t look at it. You couldn’t.

--

Jimin frowned as she stared at her phone, her latest message to you still unread. She’d been texting you for over an hour with no response, and something about it didn’t sit right.

Normally, you’d at least send a quick reply, even if you were busy. But tonight... nothing.

She grabbed her coat, worry gnawing at her as she headed to your apartment.

When she arrived, she knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Her worry deepened.

“Y/N? It’s me,” she called out, her voice gentle but firm. “I’m coming in, okay?”

Using the spare key you’d given her just last week, she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The sight that greeted her broke her heart.

You were sitting on the floor, your back against the couch, your knees drawn up to your chest. Your hands were clutching your head, and your breaths came in shallow, rapid gasps. Tears streaked your face, and your whole body trembled.

“Y/N,” Jimin said softly, dropping to her knees beside you.

Your eyes darted to her, wide and filled with panic, but you didn’t speak.

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice calm and soothing. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

She sat down beside you, close but not crowding, her presence steady and grounding. “Can you try to breathe with me?” she asked gently, demonstrating slow, deep breaths. “In for four, out for four. Just like that.”

You tried to match her breaths, but your chest felt too tight, the panic refusing to release its grip.

“It’s okay if it’s hard,” Jimin said, her voice unwavering. “Just keep trying. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words were a lifeline, pulling you back, little by little, from the edge. After what felt like an eternity, your breaths began to slow, the tightness in your chest easing.

Jimin reached out, her hand hovering uncertainly before settling on your arm. “You’re doing so well,” she said softly.

The warmth of her touch grounded you further, and the tears started again, but this time they weren’t from panic. They were from exhaustion, from relief, from the overwhelming mix of emotions you couldn’t untangle.

Jimin didn’t speak; she just held you, her arms around you like a shield against the world.

When the tears subsided, you finally found your voice, though it was barely a whisper. “She called me worthless.”

Jimin stiffened slightly, but her embrace didn’t falter. “She’s wrong,” she said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. “You are not worthless, Y/N. Not even close.”

You shook your head, the weight of her words still pressing down on you. “It feels like I am. Like no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

Jimin pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands cupping your face. “Listen to me,” she said, her tone steady and unyielding. “You are enough. More than enough. Your mom... she doesn’t see it, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. You are kind, thoughtful, strong, and resilient. And anyone who can’t see that doesn’t deserve to have a say in how you see yourself.”

Her words pierced through the fog of doubt and pain, reaching a part of you that still believed in the possibility of hope.

“I don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

“You don’t have to figure it out alone,” Jimin said. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time, okay? You’re not alone in this, Y/N. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her unwavering support, her presence, it was more than you’d ever dared to hope for.

For the first time that night, you allowed yourself to lean into her, to let her hold you, to let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as broken as you felt.

And as Jimin whispered words of comfort and love, you felt a glimmer of something you hadn’t felt in years.

Hope.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

For the first time in what felt like forever, you stood at the edge of your past, ready to confront it.

The past few weeks with Jimin had been a revelation. She had shown you love and care in ways you hadn’t thought possible. With her, you felt safe enough to begin unraveling the tangled mess of your emotions and experiences.

But there was one thing you hadn’t yet faced: your mother.

Every time she called, you felt the same pull—the ache of wanting her approval mixed with the dread of her inevitable criticism. But you couldn’t live like this anymore. You couldn’t move forward with the weight of her words dragging you down.

And so, on a crisp Saturday afternoon, you decided it was time.

Jimin was by your side as always, sitting with you on the couch. Her presence was steady and reassuring, her hand warm in yours.

“Are you ready?” she asked softly, her dark eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

“No,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I need to do this.”

Jimin squeezed your hand. “You’re stronger than you think, Y/N. I’m right here, okay?”

You nodded, drawing strength from her unwavering support. With a deep breath, you picked up your phone and dialed.

It didn’t take long for your mom to answer. “Finally,” she said, her tone sharp. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten you had a mother.”

You closed your eyes, steadying yourself. “Hi, Mom. I wanted to talk.”

The words came out calmer than you expected, but your heart was racing.

“Oh? You have time for me now?” she said, her voice dripping with bitterness. “How kind of you.”

You fought the urge to apologize, knowing it would only validate her behavior. “I need to say some things,” you said instead, your voice firmer now.

“Say what?” she demanded. “How ungrateful you’ve been? How you’ve abandoned me?”

Jimin’s hand tightened around yours, grounding you as you pressed on. “No, Mom. I want to talk about how I feel. About how your words have affected me.”

Your mom scoffed. “Oh, here we go. Playing the victim now, are we?”

You clenched your free hand into a fist, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I’m not trying to play the victim. I just need you to understand that the way you’ve treated me—calling me worthless, criticizing everything I do—it’s hurt me. It’s made me feel like I’ll never be good enough.”

There was a beat of silence, and for a moment, you thought she might actually listen. But then she spoke, her voice trembling with indignation. “After everything I’ve done for you? I sacrificed so much, and this is the thanks I get? You’re so ungrateful.”

The guilt hit you like a wave, but Jimin’s gentle touch on your hand kept you steady. She leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, her silent reminder that you weren’t alone.

“I’m not ungrateful,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “I know you’ve done a lot for me. And I love you, Mom. I always will. But I don’t like the way you treat me. I don’t like how I feel when we talk.”

“How you feel?” she snapped. “What about how I feel? Do you even care?”

Tears pricked your eyes, but you refused to back down. “I do care, Mom. That’s why I’m saying this. But I can’t keep sacrificing my happiness just to make you feel better. I need space. I need time to heal.”

“Space?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You’re abandoning me again. Just like you always do.”

“I’m not abandoning you,” you said firmly, though your hands trembled. “I’m asking for space. I’m asking you to respect my boundaries. I can’t keep living like this. It’s not fair to me.”

Her voice cracked. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’ll regret this.”

Maybe you would, but you also knew you couldn’t go back to how things were. “I’m sorry if this hurts you, Mom. But I have to put myself first for once.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Finally, she spoke, her tone cold and distant. “Fine. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

The call ended abruptly, and for a moment, you stared at the phone in your hand, the silence ringing louder than her words.

Tears blurred your vision, but Jimin’s arms were around you before you could fall apart completely.

“You did it,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of pride.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” you said, your voice trembling. “It feels like I’ve just lost everything.”

“You haven’t lost everything,” she said gently, pulling back to look at you. “You’ve just taken the first step toward finding yourself again. And I’m so proud of you.”

Her words broke the dam inside you, and you leaned into her, crying into her shoulder as she held you. She didn’t try to fix it, didn’t tell you to stop crying. She just held you, letting you feel everything you needed to feel.

When the tears finally subsided, you sat together in silence, Jimin’s fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back.

“I feel so... empty,” you admitted.

“That’s okay,” she said. “Sometimes you have to let go of what’s hurting you to make room for something better. And I promise, Y/N, there’s so much better waiting for you.”

Her words stayed with you as the days passed. Slowly but surely, you began to feel lighter. The guilt and pain didn’t disappear overnight, but they began to fade, replaced by something new.

Hope.

--

One sunny afternoon, you and Jimin took Cooper for a walk in the park. The greyhound trotted happily ahead, his tail wagging as he sniffed every blade of grass.

The park was alive with the sounds of laughter and birdsong, the crisp autumn air filled with the scent of fallen leaves.

Jimin reached for your hand, lacing her fingers with yours as you walked. Her touch was warm, grounding, and you felt a quiet sense of peace settle over you.

As you rounded a bend in the path, you spotted three familiar faces waiting by a bench.

Minjeong waved excitedly, her grin as bright as the sun. Aeri and Yizhuo were beside her, both of them holding drinks from the nearby café.

“About time you showed up!” Yizhuo called out, her voice teasing.

“Cooper needed to inspect every tree,” Jimin said with a laugh, giving the leash a gentle tug.

You couldn’t help but smile as you approached them, the warmth of their welcome washing over you.

As you sat down with them, Cooper flopped onto the grass, content and happy. Jimin’s hand never left yours, her thumb brushing softly against your knuckles.

For the first time in years, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Loved. Supported. Happy.

And as you laughed with your friends, Jimin’s hand in yours, you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful. a/n: this one was easier to write, probably because it hits a bit to close to home lol

[melanchoire]

Hey! Could I request a nsfw college AU with Karina?

Where you’re the shy, honor roll, top of the class, goody two shoes type and Karina is the outgoing, popular, everyone wants to be with her or her friend type.

You guys are in a relationship and she decides to sneak you guys into the deans office because she loves adrenaline and gets a thrill out of knowing the two of you could potentially get caught as she eating her lunch(you) on top of the deans desk.

Thank you!

BAD GIRLS R US ──── yu jimin

── ( 🚬 ) you thought acing exams was stressful? try dating karina, the campus rebel whose every impulsive decision threatens to unravel your perfectly structured world; now, she’s got her sights set on corrupting your good–girl image, and you must decide if you’re willing to risk it all for a taste of the forbidden fruit she's so tempting you with.

pairing. teasing dom!rebel girlfriend!karina x sub!good student!fem reader

warning(s). cum eating, cunnilingus, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, semi exhibitionism, spanking, squirting.

word count. 3,8k

being in a relationship with karina was, as cliché as it sounded, like riding a roller coaster with a fear of heights. you, the exemplary student, the beacon of discipline in academic pursuits, found yourself perpetually dangling from the precipice of her chaotic brilliance. honor roll was your middle name. you were a picture of academic discipline, dean’s list regular, a name synonymous with responsibility.

karina… well, karina was a supernova. bright, chaotic, and drawing everyone into her orbit. she was the cool girl from the movies, eternally confident, radiating a charisma that could light up a room.

but god, she has a big charm.

you remember the initial shock of it all. how she had noticed you. you, huddled in the library with your nose buried in textbooks, while she breezed through life, a whirlwind of social gatherings and spontaneous adventures. yet, here you were, undeniably, irrevocably entwined.

walking with karina was a public affair… it was impossible to go unnoticed. walking with her through the college halls was a sensory overload. your hand swallowed in hers, or her arm draped tentatively around your waist, became a magnet for attention. every few steps, a chorus of greetings would erupt; “good morning, karina!” “hey, karina!” “morning, karina, you look great!” the greetings were relentless, a chorus of admiration echoing her every footstep. her replies were always effortless, sprinkled with wit and genuine warmth. her confidence was a force field, deflecting anxieties that would usually cripple you. her attitude was the reason you loved her.

you, on the other hand, would shrink a little, offering shy smiles and quiet nods. even with your closest friends, karina’s presence amplified your timidity. you were perfectly content in her reflected glory, a quiet moon orbiting a vibrant sun.

now, standing in the bustling college hallway, the aroma of lukewarm coffee swirling around you, you checked your phone for the tenth time in as many minutes. sunlight filters through the leaves, dappling the brick facade in shifting patterns.

you’re waiting for karina, having escaped your literature class early after demolishing the midterm. elation had bloomed in your chest — an unexpected free morning! you’d texted karina, hoping she’d be free to celebrate with… something. anything. her reply was brief: “teacher MIA. free as a bird. meet you at the vending machines?”

first, you wonder why your girlfriend suddenly has free time when she’s supposed to be studying right now. surprisingly, karina didn’t have class because her professor supposedly bailed. you’re skeptical, but not enough to outright accuse her of ditching. you take a sip of your coffee, the lukewarm caffeine doing little to soothe the nervous flutter in your stomach.

that nagging little voice in your head, the one honed by years of academic integrity, whispered suspicions. karina skipping class? it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility, but something felt off. you took a sip of coffee to try and relax and let the warmth soothe you from within; its bitterness doing little to soothe your rising unease. instead, it was as the taste of hazelnuts and caffeine had doubled your discomfort and worry.

as you scroll through instagram, a pair of hands snaked around your waist, startling you. the unexpected pressure sends a jolt of electricity through you. before you can react, someone’s blowing on your neck, a warm breath tickles your neck and sends a shiver down your spine, followed by a quick, playful kiss just behind your ear.

you nearly choke on your coffee, sputtering and flailing, before whirling around to find karina holding back a laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. “hi baby.”

“karina!” you punch her lightly on the shoulder, a scolding simmering under your voice. “you idiot! you scared me half to death!”

“but you looked so cute, all serious and focused.” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “like you were solving the mysteries of the universe with just a cup of coffee and your phone. all focused and serious. it was adorable.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. “very funny.”

you glare, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you. it’s impossible to stay mad at her. you give her the look and she apologizes, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as a peace offering.

she leaned in, her expression softening. “okay, okay, i’m sorry.” she murmured, planting a soft kiss on your lips. the world seemed to fade away for a moment, the noise of the hallway blurring into a distant hum. “i’ll say it again, i’m sorry sorry.” she murmurs, her breath warm against your skin. “couldn’t resist.”

she looped an arm around your waist, pulling you against her side and steering you down the hall. you let her lead, the familiar weight of her presence grounding you. “c’mon, let’s go for a walk.” she said, her voice regaining its usual playful tone. “tell me all about your brilliant conquering of calculus.”

“it was a literature exam.” you retort, giving her a slight sideways glance, noticing how she smirked at you getting moody when she manages to get out of you the attitude she loves the most

“so…” she says, her voice light and conversational. “how was the midterm from hell?”

“easy.” you retort, trying to sound nonchalant. “finished it in twenty minutes.”

“show off.” she nudges you playfully.

“and you, ms. art aficionado? what masterpieces are you creating today?” even though you two were joking around a bit and treating each other in a certain way, your question had a genuine interest.

“just finished a sculpture”. she replies. “i’m pretty proud of it. it’s… well, you’ll see.”

“i look forward to it. and if you need some help, i can help if you want.” you offer, ever the dutiful girlfriend.

“thanks, babe.” she rests her head on your shoulder for a moment. “i think i’m good for now. i just have to finish this painting project for arts. it’s kind of hard, you know?”

“yeah, i see. and what class was it that you so conveniently didn’t have because of a teacher’s absence?” you ask, your voice laced with gentle suspicion.

karina laughed, a melodious sound that always made your heart skip a beat. she tried to hide her smile, but a tell–tale glint in her eyes betrayed her. it only took one pointed look from you for her to confess. “okay, okay, you caught me.” she admits, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“me and yeji and giselle decided a sunny morning was better spent… elsewhere.”

you felt a familiar surge of exasperation. “karina!” you started, ready to launch into a lecture about responsibility and wasted potential.

you open your mouth to scold her, to lecture her about responsibility and wasted potential, but she clamps a hand over your mouth, her eyes wide with mock horror. “shhh! don’t say it so loud!” she hisses. “someone might hear me, and then i’ll be in actual trouble.”

before you could formulate a retort, she grabs your wrist and tugs you in the opposite direction, away from the main thoroughfare and towards a more secluded part of campus. “c’mon, let’s go somewhere more… private to discuss this.”

you stumbled after her, your mind reeling. where was she taking you now?

“karina, where are you taking me?” you ask, your voice tinged with concern. she’s never skipped like this before. “we should probably get you back to class—”

she cuts you off, spinning you around and leading you towards the hallway with all the administration offices. now, you two are standing outside the… dean’s office. the polished brass plaque gleams in the filtered sunlight.

you stared at the imposing wooden door, your heart pounding in your chest. “karina, what are you doing?” you ask, your voice rising in pitch. the anxiety that had been simmering beneath the surface now threatens to boil over. “why are we here? you’re not in trouble, are you?”

she leans closer, her eyes sparkling with a reckless abandon that both terrifies and exhilarates you.

she grinned, a wild, mischievous glint in her eyes. “well, if i’m going to get a report for skipping class anyway.” she said, her voice dripping with mock drama. “i prefer to give a good reason for having one.”

“are you serious? karina, you’re going to get into serious trouble! actually... you’re going to get us into serious trouble! do you have any idea how a report would look next to my grades? that would ruin my student image! and—” before you could continue with your monologue, she interrupts you.

“relax.” she says, her voice a low murmur. “i’m going to get a report whatever happens, so, i prefer to give a good reason for having one. and don’t worry, if we get caught, i promise you that i’ll be the one to take full responsibility and face the consequences alone, so stop being a pussy.”

you don’t have time to process her baffling statement before she’s pushing you through the door, her hand firmly planted on your lower back. the office is thankfully empty, the dean presumably away at a meeting. the air smells of old paper and authority. this is so wrong.

she pressed you against the cool, smooth surface of the door, her body a warm, insistent pressure against yours. your breath caught in your throat. her hands moved to cup your face, her thumbs gently tracing the lines of your cheekbones. her gaze, intense and playful, locked with yours.

“karina.” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

she didn’t answer. instead, she lowered her head, her lips brushing against yours in a feather–light kiss that sent shivers dancing down your spine. the kiss deepened, her lips parting yours, inviting you in. you surrendered, your worries and anxieties melting away in the heat of her touch.

her hands moved from your face to the small of your back, pulling you even closer, molding your bodies together. the subtle scent of her perfume, a mix of vanilla and something indescribably floral, filled your senses.

her hands roam freely, tracing the curve of your waist, sliding under your shirt to explore the sensitive skin of your back. you gasp against her mouth, your body responding instinctively to her touch. her fingers dance along your spine, sending shivers down your back.

the world shrinks to the space between you, a bubble of heat and desire in the sterile environment of the dean’s office. you can feel the rapid beat of her heart against yours, the frantic pace of her breath mingling with your own.

you instinctively arched closer, your own hands finding their way to her hair, the soft strands sliding between your fingers. the kissing grew more insistent, more demanding, a silent conversation of desire and unspoken needs.

she nibbled at your lower lip, her tongue tracing its outline, and you moaned softly, the sound lost in the deepening kiss. your hands moved lower, tracing the curve of her back, the smooth fabric of her blouse a tantalizing barrier.

the kissing broke, and she trailed kisses down your jawline, her breath warm against your skin. you tilted your head back, giving her better access, a silent invitation. her lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, and you gasped, a thrill shooting through you.

“karina.” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “we… we shouldn’t be doing this here. the lunch bell will ring any minute.” the absurdity of the situation finally registered, the dean’s office feeling suddenly small and claustrophobic.

she pulled back slightly, her eyes dark and knowing. “then…” she whispered, her voice husky with desire. “we should hurry up.”

karina’s hands slid up your sides, her fingers splaying across your back as she pulled your body flush against hers. you could feel every curve and contour of her lithe, toned figure pressed against you, separated only by the thin fabric of your uniforms.

she captured your mouth in a searing kiss, her lips moving hungrily against yours. her tongue pushed past your teeth, exploring and claiming, dominating your mouth with a fierce intensity. one hand tangled in your silky hair, gripping it tightly as she angled your head to deepen the kiss.

karina’s other hand slid down to grab your ass, squeezing the firm flesh hard enough to leave imprints of her fingers. she ground her hips against yours, letting you feel the heat building between her legs. the kiss turned sloppy, wet, obscene in its intensity as she devoured your mouth.

karina’s hands slid down to your ass, squeezing the soft yet firm cheeks, followed by a tap on your side, giving you the signal to wrap your legs around her waist. without breaking the weight, she effortlessly carries you up to the dean’s large, polished mahogany desk

after a long, breathless moment, she broke the kiss, leaving you both panting. a string of saliva connected your lips before she licked them clean with a wicked grin.

karina’s eyes flashed with unbridled lust and a hint of madness as she gazed at you, chest heaving with each ragged breath. without warning, she spun you around and bent you over the dean’s large, imposing desk, scattering papers and office supplies to the floor. her fingers found the hem of your skirt, pushing it up and bunched around your waist.

“fuck, you look so hot like this, love.” she growled, giving your ass a sharp smack. the sound echoed through the office, followed by the muffled yelp that escaped your lips. karina rubbed the reddened flesh, soothing the sting before continuing with her purpose.

slowly, teasingly, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of your panties and tugged them down, yanking them off your legs and tossing them carelessly to the floor. cool air kissed your bare skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

wrapping her long hands around your waist, she spins you around, making you lie on your back. karina grabbed your thighs, spreading them wide and pushing your legs against your chest, making you hook your hands on the back of your knees and hold them against your chest — this exposed your most intimate place to her hungry gaze.

“mmmh, and look at this pretty little pussy... all pretty and perfect, just for me.” karina licked her lips as she took in the sight of your exposed sex, glistening and ready. she leaned in close, her warm breath ghosting over your most intimate place. her fingers slid through your slick folds, teasing and stroking. she could feel the heat radiating from your core, the slick evidence of your arousal coating her fingertip.

without further preamble, karina leaned in and sealed her mouth over your sex, her tongue delving deep between your folds. she groaned at the taste of you, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before she focused intently on pleasuring you. her tongue circled and flicked over your clit, then pushed inside your tight heat, fucking you with deep, deliberate strokes.

karina’s hands gripped your thighs hard enough to leave marks as she held your legs open, keeping you spread wide for her hungry mouth. she devoured you like a woman starved, determined to taste every drop of your arousal.

she lapped at you greedily, savoring your unique taste, before focusing on your sensitive clit. she suckled and flicked the hardened nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

karina attacked your pussy with wild abandon, her tongue delving deep and stroking every sensitive nerve ending. sloppy, wet sounds filled the dean's office as she ate you out with gusto, not caring about the mess she was making or who might hear.

every so often, she would pull back and spank your ass hard, leaving a red handprint on your cheek. the sharp sting only served to heighten your arousal, making you writhe and buck against her mouth.

“fuck, you taste so good.” karina growled against your cunt, giving your clit a hard suck. she released it with a pop, only to dive back in and press the flat of her tongue against it, rubbing firm circles.

“such a naughty girl… letting me do this in the dean’s office.” she purred, punctuating her words with a sharp smack to your ass. “i bet you love being a dirty slut, don’t you baby? being eaten out where anyone could catch us?”

tears burn in your eyes, escaping from the corners of your eyes and turning into fat drops as they begin their journey down your blushing cheeks. a sob escapes from your swollen and almost sore lips from biting them so much in attempts to contain your moans and noises so as not to be caught in this position by some teacher or student. “you’re the one who suggested it.”

karina laughed, a low, wicked sound that vibrated against your sensitive flesh. she delivered another hard spank to your ass, leaving a matching red handprint on the other cheek.

karina smirked up at you, her chin glistening with your juices. she gave your clit a quick flick with her tongue before responding. “mmmh, you’re right, baby. i’m the one who suggested it. guilty as charged, baby. but i’m not sorry. i saw what i wanted and i went for it, just like this… and look at you, being such an obedient girlfriend for me.” she purred, rubbing your reddened skin soothingly before gripping it hard enough to leave bruises.

she dove back in, sucking your clit into her mouth and flicking it rapidly with her tongue. at the same time, she pushed a finger, then two, into your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out at a brutal pace.

“mmmh, and now look at you, spread out on the dean’s desk like a feast for me to devour. i can’t help myself around a cute little thing like you.” she purred, curling her fingers to rub your g–spot as her thumb circled your clit.

karina leaned in and buried her face between your thighs again, attacking your pussy with single–minded focus. she licked and sucked and fucked you with her tongue and fingers, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

she could feel your walls starting to flutter around her invading fingers, signaling your impending orgasm. karina doubled her efforts, determined to make you come undone on her tongue.

“that’s it, baby, come for me.” she growled against your cunt, the vibrations pushing you over the precipice. “i want to taste your cum dripping down my chin as i make you scream my name.”

karina punctuated her words with a particularly hard spank to your ass, leaving a vivid red handprint on your skin. at the same time, she pressed her thumb hard against your clit and bit down gently on your clit, sending you hurtling into ecstasy.

she could feel your breathing growing more ragged, your hips bucking erratically against her face. with a final, hard suck to your clit, she pushed a third finger into your tight channel, stretching you deliciously.

karina fucked you hard and fast, the wet squelch of her fingers plunging in and out of your dripping cunt filling the room. she could feel your walls fluttering, your body tensing, and she knew you were right on the cusp.

with a final, brutal thrust and a hard suck to your clit, karina sent you hurtling over the edge. your pussy clenched vice–tight around her fingers as your orgasm crashed through you, waves of ecstasy radiating out from your core.

your pussy clamped down around her fingers as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating out from your core. karina moaned as she felt your release flooding her mouth, lapping up every drop of your essence like a woman starved.

karina groaned against your spasming sex, lapping up your release and pushing her fingers deeper to feel every pulse and flutter. she worked you through your climax with skilled fingers and a wicked tongue, wringing out every last tremor and aftershock until you collapsed back onto the dean’s desk, boneless and sated. only then did she pull back, a smug grin on her face as she licked her lips.

pathetic. that's what you looked like right now; pathetic. but of course your girlfriend was enjoying every damn second of this moment, seeing you so vulnerable given the context of the situation… maybe this will just feed her twisted brain and get her mind working on thinking of more places she can get a nice piece of pussy if she’s in the mood

maybe this will just feed her twisted brain and get her mind working on thinking of more places she can get a nice piece of pussy if she’s in the mood, and of course, you’d never deny it to your girlfriend, right?

“not bad for a quick fuck in the dean’s office, huh baby?” she purred, standing up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. her eyes raked over your disheveled form, sprawled out on the dean’s desk with your skirt bunched up around your waist.

karina leaned over you, bracing her hands on either side of your head. she licked her lips, still glistening with your juices. “and i’m not nearly done with you yet, baby. we’ve still got so much more to explore together… just wait until i get you all to myself.”

pulling away from you, she takes your wrist, giving you a gentle tug to lift your body off the desk and onto your feet.

she picks up your discarded panties on the carpeted floor, kneeling in front of you. wrapping one of her hands around your ankle, she helps you lift each of your legs and put your underwear back on. she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, pulling the panties up your weak, shaking legs — the fabric stained as it made contact with your slippery folds and puffy clit, but hey, you had to endure the sensation until you could find a moment to sneak off to your dorm and find a clean pair of panties.

smoothing your skirt and setting it into place, karina watches through her lashes as you put your sweater back in place and comb your hair, running your fingers through your messy locks. “we’ll go get something from the cafeteria, okay? let me buy you something for lunch. you need to regain your energy to continue the day, you can’t be in class with that lack of energy on your body. i promise that after class, i’ll take you home and take proper care of you.”

you smiled victoriously. finishing the literature exam in record time and passing it, being able to spend quality time with your girlfriend, getting fucked by her and then her promising you a nice breakfast and a date afterwards? today was your lucky day.

“oh, and wipe that satisfied smirk off your face before someone sees. wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea about the dean’s pretty little assistant.”

[bitchiswild]

Pervert

G!P Karina x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.7 k

Warning: unprotected sex, slight choking,possessiveness, reader being a major pervert

A/n: hai 😝imma disappear after this again… sorry! i do miss yall tho!!!😩 smut is whatever tho not my best!! Fyi!!!

Requested

──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“Y/N!” Karina burst into the backstage area, panting heavily. She was supposed to be on stage in minutes, but a button on her shirt had popped off, leaving her in desperate need of a quick fix. And that meant she needed you—her stylist and dresser—to save the day.

Being Karina’s stylist had its ups and downs. On the plus side, she was incredibly kind, treated you with respect, and trusted your judgment completely when it came to her outfits. She made you feel like an essential part of her team, always listening to your suggestions and appreciating your work.

But there was also a downside—though you couldn’t exactly call it a ‘con.’ You had a hard time keeping your eyes off her, especially when dressing her. Your job gave you the perfect excuse to admire her body up close, particularly her chest, and you often found yourself getting lost in those moments. It didn’t help that Karina seemed to enjoy teasing you, flirting just enough to make your heart race.

It wasn’t really your fault, you reasoned. How could anyone blame you when Karina was standing right in front of you, practically glowing? And seriously—have you seen Karina?

You quickly grabbed your bag of sewing supplies and rushed over to Karina, ready to fix the button. As you got closer, she watched you with an expectant gaze, her eyes slightly hooded in a way that made you gulp. Despite the nerves bubbling up inside, you reminded yourself that you had a job to do.

Standing in front of her, you found yourself face-to-face with her chest, her curves mere inches from your own. It was like a dream come true, being this close to her, but you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. You began to sew the button back onto her shirt, trying to ignore the warmth radiating from her body and the way your hands trembled slightly.

As you worked, Karina lifted a hand and gently caressed your head. “That’s it, Y/N, you’re so good at this,” she murmured, her voice soft and almost sultry.

Your hands started to shake even more. Why did that sound so hot? Your heart raced at her innocent praise, though you knew you were only doing your job. But then again, Karina had a way of making everything she said feel like a tease, and her casual praise had always made your heart flutter.

Once you finished sewing the button back in place, you couldn't resist the temptation. You purposely let your hand graze against her boobs as you pulled away, feigning innocence. “All right! You’re all fixed up! You gotta head back on stage, Jimin,” you said, flashing her a wide-eyed, innocent look as if nothing had happened.

Karina stared at you for a moment, clearly not fooled. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Y/nnie,” she replied, her voice dripping with playful intent. Before you could respond, she winked at you and rushed off to the stage.

That wink nearly made your legs give out. You knew she was fully aware of the effect she had on you—how could she not be? And yet, there was something thrilling about the whole thing. The way she teased you, the way she knew exactly how to push your buttons, and the way you secretly loved every second of it.

Why did you enjoy it so much? Maybe it was because, in those fleeting moments, it felt like you were sharing a secret game that only the two of you understood.

You watched from backstage as Karina and the girls performed, completely mesmerized by their talent. As always, they were incredible—their vocals flawless, their dances sharp and synchronized. They were aces at what they did, captivating the entire audience with ease.

The show was nearly over, which meant it was time for you to prepare Karina’s going-home outfit. But with Aeri’s stylist absent today, you were also covering for her, adding a bit more pressure to your workload.

As the girls wrapped up their final number, they still had to greet the VIP fans who’d stayed for the after-show. But before they could do that, Aeri came rushing over to you, her face showing a mix of urgency and concern. “Y/N, the strap on my top just broke!” she exclaimed, holding up the loose fabric.

You heard her, but for a split second, your attention was completely elsewhere—specifically, on her chest. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way the broken strap left her top barely clinging to her body. It was only a moment, but you snapped out of it quickly, hoping Aeri hadn’t noticed your wandering eyes.

But someone else had noticed—Karina. From across the room, her gaze was locked on you, and the sight of you staring at Aeri’s chest sparked something inside her. Jealousy. It was subtle, but unmistakable. She knew exactly what was going through your mind, and it lit a fire in her that she couldn’t ignore.

You quickly focused on fixing Aeri’s top, your hands working with practiced efficiency. Once the strap was secured, she flashed you a grateful smile and rushed off to greet her fans. You breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have handled the situation without further incident.

But your relief was short-lived. As Aeri mingled with her fans, Karina, having just finished thanking her own, made a beeline straight for you. Her steps were purposeful, and you could tell by the way she moved that she had something on her mind.

“Y/N,” Karina said firmly, her tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Your heart dropped at the sound of her voice. Was she angry? Had you been too obvious? You hadn’t meant to stare, but it was right there in front of you—it had been impossible to resist. You swallowed nervously. “Y-Yeah?” you replied timidly, unsure of what was coming next.

“I saw you,” Karina stated, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Huh?” you responded, trying to play dumb, but your voice wavered.

“I saw you staring at Aeri’s tits,” Karina continued, her eyebrows arched and her arms crossed over her chest.

Your face flushed with embarrassment, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I-I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” you pleaded, panic setting in. The last thing you wanted was to upset Karina.

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, in one swift motion, she reached out and gripped your jaw, pulling you closer to her. Her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “The only tits you’re allowed to look at are mine,” Karina said firmly, her voice low and commanding.

Your jaw dropped at her words, shock rendering you speechless. Your face turned an even deeper shade of red as you processed what she’d just said. “I-I…” you stammered, completely at a loss for words. Your heart pounded in your chest, so loud you could almost hear it in your ears.

Karina’s grip on your jaw softened, but her gaze remained locked on you, waiting for a response. You could barely think, let alone speak, your mind racing with a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and something else—something that made your pulse quicken in a way you hadn’t expected.

Karina’s hands slid down from your jaw, gripping your waist as she pulled you closer to her. Her lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I see the way you look at me,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry. “I see the way you look at my body. You want me, don’t you, Y/N?”

You gulped, unable to trust your voice to respond. The intensity of the moment left you speechless, your mind racing with a mixture of desire and disbelief.

Karina’s breath was warm against your ear as she continued, “Because I want you so bad.” Her words sent a jolt through your body, and before you could fully process what was happening, she grabbed your hands, guiding them to her chest. She pressed your hands against her breasts, forcing you to grip them.

A soft sigh escaped Karina’s lips, and the sound made your knees weak. You let out a quiet whimper, the sensation of her body against yours overwhelming your senses. The boundary between what was real and what you’d only dreamed about was quickly dissolving, and all you could do was hold on, completely captivated by her.

Karina's hands began to move over yours, her touch sending electric currents through your body. You sighed at the sensation, your heart racing, and the pulse between your legs intensified with every moment. You wanted Karina so badly it hurt.

Her other hand slid down, guiding your hand to her crotch. “You feel that, Y/N? You do this to me. You make me so hard,” Karina groaned into your ear, her voice thick with desire. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and your eyes locked onto hers, hooded and dilated with lust. You wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to close the distance between you.

Just as you began to lean in, there was a sudden knock at the door, startling you both. You jumped apart, the heat of the moment dissipating as reality crashed back in. Karina quickly turned away to change while you tried to collect yourself, your mind still reeling from what had just happened.

You opened the door to find Aeri standing there again. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes flickered down to her chest before quickly snapping back up. “Uh, sorry, just checking if your strap is holding up,” you said nervously, trying to cover your slip with a nervous chuckle.

Aeri chuckled in return. “Y/N, you’re a pro at sewing—it’s going to hold up just fine,” she reassured you before casually pulling off her shirt in front of you, leaving you momentarily speechless as your jaw dropped slightly.

“Where’s my going-home outfit?” Aeri asked, looking around the room as if she hadn’t just rendered you completely speechless. Your eyes remained glued to her chest, unable to tear yourself away.

Karina, now fully dressed, caught you staring and the jealousy in her eyes was unmistakable. “Y/N!” she snapped, her voice cutting through your daze and jolting you back to reality. You scrambled to find Aeri’s clothes, your hands fumbling as you handed them over to her.

“Here you go, Aeri,” you said sheepishly, feeling more than a little embarrassed. Aeri flashed you a cheesy smile before heading off to change, leaving you alone with Karina.

“What did I just tell you?” Karina’s voice was sharp, dripping with jealousy.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t help it!” you whimpered, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you.

“You’re such a fucking perv, Y/N,” Karina spat, her words like a punch to the gut. Your heart dropped, and you felt tears springing to your eyes. “Karina, I’m sorry! Please don’t tell anyone—I promise I’ll stop!” you pleaded, your voice trembling with desperation.

Karina’s expression softened for a moment, but there was a glint in her eyes that told you she was enjoying this—enjoying the power she held over you. Seeing you cry, seeing you so vulnerable, seemed to give her a twisted sense of satisfaction.

“I’m going to put you in your place, Y/N. The only person you’re allowed to stare at is me,” Karina said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

“But—” you began to protest, your voice trembling with a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty.

“No buts,” Karina cut you off, her tone brooking no disagreement. “I better see you in my hotel room later, Y/N. Or so help me, I’ll make sure everyone knows about your little habit.” Her threat hung heavily in the air, a sharp reminder of the power she held over you.

You nodded quickly, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. “O-Okay,” you stammered, unable to look her in the eye.

Karina’s eyes held a steely resolve as she turned away, leaving you to grapple with the weight of her words.

You arrived at the hotel with a mix of anxiety and anticipation, your mind racing as you navigated through the lobby. Karina’s threat still echoed in your ears, and you couldn't shake the nervous energy that had settled in your stomach.

When you reached her door, you took a deep breath and knocked. The sound echoed through the hallway, amplifying your nerves. Moments later, Karina opened the door, her expression a mix of curiosity and determination.

“Come in,” she said, her tone firm but with a hint of anticipation.

You stepped inside, your heart racing. The room was tastefully decorated, and Karina was already in casual clothes, having changed out of her stage outfit. She gestured for you to sit on the couch while she moved to the other side of the room, giving you a moment to gather your thoughts.

“Did you think about what I said?” Karina asked, her voice carrying an undercurrent of authority.

You nodded, feeling your face flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “Yes, I did.”

Karina’s gaze was intense as she walked towards you, her movements deliberate. “Good. Because tonight, I want to make sure you understand just who you’re allowed to look at,” she said, her voice low and steady.

She sat down next to you on the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her body. “I’m going to show you exactly what I mean,” she continued, her eyes locked on yours. “And I want you to remember this moment, Y/N. Remember who has control here.”

As she spoke, Karina’s hand reached out to gently touch your arm, her touch sending a shiver through you. She leaned in slightly, her lips almost brushing against your ear as she whispered, “You’re mine tonight. Don’t forget it.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. “I won’t forget,” you promised, your voice barely above a whisper.

Karina smiled, a mixture of satisfaction and desire in her eyes. “Good,” she said, her hand moving from your arm to gently cup your cheek. “Now, let’s make sure you remember who you belong to.”

Without breaking eye contact, Karina guided you gently but firmly onto the bed. The sudden shift from the couch to the soft surface of the bed intensified the electricity in the room. You looked up at her, your heart pounding with anticipation and a touch of nervousness.

Karina followed you, her movements confident and assured. She positioned herself above you, her body pressing down against yours as she straddled your hips. Her eyes were dark with desire, and she leaned in close, her breath warm against your skin.

“Do you understand now?” Karina whispered, her lips almost brushing yours. Her hands explored your sides, her touch both tender and possessive. She paused, her gaze intense and searching.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, overwhelmed by the proximity of her body and the heat of the moment. The weight of her presence was exhilarating, and you could feel every touch, every movement acutely.

Karina’s hands roamed gently over your body, her fingers tracing along your curves with a mix of tenderness and assertiveness.

Karina’s hands gently gripped the bottom of your shirt, lifting it slowly as her eyes locked with yours. The intensity in her gaze made your breath catch, and you let out a shaky sigh. Her movements were deliberate, filled with an almost tangible anticipation.

Once your shirt was off, Karina’s hands continued their journey, her fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. She pulled them down slowly, her eyes never leaving yours, and you felt a rush of vulnerability and excitement.

Karina stood back up, her hands moving to your bra strap. She looked at you with a question in her eyes, seeking permission, which you gave with a slight nod. As she removed your bra, a low groan escaped her lips at the sight. The sound was both appreciative and possessive.

Karina’s hands roamed gently over your body, her touch exploratory and tender. As she leaned down, she placed a soft, lingering kiss on your chest. The warmth of her lips and the sensation of her touch created a mix of anticipation and comfort.

Her kisses deepened as she began to suck on your tits, each movement both electrifying and soothing. Her gentle touch with the intensity of her sucking left you breathless, your arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her closer, and you arched your back into her touch,

Karina’s right hand slid down to your lower body, her touch teasing and gentle as she made contact with your clit. Your breath catching in a gasp of pleasure. “Fuck Karina,” you whimpered, your voice filled with a mix of need and desperation.

“What is it, baby?” Karina’s voice was a low murmur against your chest, full of urgency.

“I need you,” you gasped out, your fingers gripping her hair as she continued to kiss and caress you with a desperate intensity. Her touch was relentless, making every sensation more acute. In one quick motion, Karina pulled off your panties, leaving you exposed. She swiftly followed, and you couldn’t help but let your gaze roam over her body.

“That’s it, baby. Look at me. I want you to focus on me and no one else,” she said firmly, her tone commanding.

Your eyes dropped to her body, and the sight of hergrowing cock made your breath hitch. The thought of feeling her inside you, was nearly overwhelming.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet for me,” Karina said as her fingers explored you. Her touch made you shiver, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Karina started moving her member against you. Each stroke slid smoothly against your dripping wetness. You could feel the slickness drip down you as her member glided against your soaked crotch, each movement adding to the pleasure driving you both wild.

The tip of her member brushed against your opening. “You’re mine, Y/N,” Karina whispered with a possessive edge. With that, she slid into you, filling you up with a deep, satisfying pressure. The sensation of her moving inside you was intense, and you could feel every shift and thrust.

You gasped at the overwhelming sensation, a mix of pleasure and surprise escaping your lips. “Oh my god,” you moaned, gripping Karina’s back tightly.

Karina responded by kissing your neck, her lips leaving possessive marks as a reminder of your connection. The room echoed with the sounds of your movements, each thrust from Karina purposeful and deep. Her grip on your hips was firm, guiding you to match her rhythm. “You’re mine, Y/N,” Karina groaned, her hands moving to your neck, adding to the intensity.

Her thrusts grew harder and more deliberate, each motion pushing deeper inside you. The sensation was intense, with every thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel the pressure building with each movement. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, your body on edge.

Karina’s hands left your neck and moved down to your clit, rubbing it quickly and skillfully. “That’s it, baby. Cum on my cock. Squeeze me with your tight cunt,” she moaned, her voice thick with desire. The pleasure was almost too much to bear. “God, Karina,” you cried out, letting the wave of your orgasm wash over you.

Your body tightened around her, your slit gripping her member so tightly that the pressure and sensation made it difficult for her to move, but the pleasure was undeniable. Karina’s breathing grew heavier as she neared her own climax. “God baby you’re so tight” She groaned out.

With a final, deep thrust, Karina’s orgasm hit, and she filled you completely, the sensation of her release made you shiver against her.

As the intensity of the moment faded, Karina’s breathing gradually slowed. She gently pulled away, her movements tender and careful. Her eyes, filled with a mix of satisfaction and affection, met yours.

Karina brushed a strand of hair away from your face, her touch soft and soothing. “You did so well,” she murmured, her voice warm and reassuring. She helped you adjust your position, ensuring you were comfortable and relaxed.

Gently, she wrapped her arms around you, holding you close in a comforting embrace. Her fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin, and she pressed a series of soft kisses to your forehead and cheek.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern as she checked in with you. Her eyes searched yours, wanting to make sure you felt good both physically and emotionally.

You nodded, feeling the warmth of her care and the afterglow of your shared experience. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you replied, your voice filled with gratitude.

Karina smiled and continued to hold you, her presence a calming reassurance. She fetched a warm cloth and gently cleaned you up, her touch gentle and attentive. As she worked, she stayed close, her touch and gaze conveying her affection and commitment to making sure you were well.

The room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of your breathing and Karina’s comforting presence.

Karina chuckled softly as she looked at you with a playful glint in her eye. “You’re gonna hate what I did to your neck,” she said, her tone light but mischievous.

You stared at her, puzzled, before slowly getting up to head to the bathroom. Your heart raced as you approached the mirror, curiosity mixed with a touch of apprehension.

When you finally looked in the mirror, you saw the marks Karina had left on your neck. The dark, hickeys were a clear reminder of the intensity of your time together. “Karina!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

Karina’s laughter was soft but warm, her eyes twinkling as she joined you in the bathroom. “I just wanted to make sure you remember who you belong to,” she said with a grin, her tone affectionate despite the teasing.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, despite the shock. “Well, mission accomplished,” you said, shaking your head. “I guess I’ll be wearing high collars for a while.”

Karina reached out and gently touched your arm, her expression softening. “I’m sorry if I went a bit overboard,” she said, her voice sincere. “I just got carried away.”

You smiled at her, feeling a deep sense of affection and connection. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I like it”

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[winterislife]

The Battle of Hearts

Pairing: Karina x fem reader

Genre: enemies to lovers (kinda bad)

Words: 1.6k

A/N: hello I'm just new to tumblr so idk how to arrange this hehe and also I'm just a beginner in writing so feel free not to read and you guys can also give me tips to Improve it😊

---

Y/N had always prided herself on being the best. No one in her school had ever challenged her until Karina came along.

It wasn’t that Y/N was unintelligent—far from it. She was fierce, sharp-tongued, and always one step ahead of everyone else in every subject. But, no matter how hard she pushed herself, she always ended up second to Karina. It burned in her chest like a constant, unshakable fire.

Karina was tall, striking, with a brilliance that matched her looks. She was everything Y/N wasn’t. Where Y/N was all attitude, Karina was poised. Where Y/N’s talent was hidden beneath layers of snark and stubbornness, Karina’s intelligence shone through effortlessly. And, to add insult to injury, Karina was popular, the one everyone admired, the one everyone wanted to be.

Y/N hated it. She hated Karina.

It wasn’t just the grades, either. Karina’s mere presence in the classroom sent ripples through Y/N’s usually unwavering confidence. Karina's smile, effortlessly warm and disarming, made Y/N want to scream every time it flashed in her direction.

Y/N gritted her teeth as she walked into class, her gaze instinctively landing on Karina, who sat at the front, reading a book as usual. Karina didn’t even glance up. It only irritated Y/N more.

"Good morning, Y/N," Karina’s voice drifted through the air like a soft melody. Y/N couldn’t understand why it always grated on her nerves.

"Good morning," Y/N replied curtly, though she wasn’t in the mood for conversation. She couldn’t care less about Karina’s fake sweetness.

Y/N’s hands tightened around her books as she made her way to her seat. Every class with Karina was a game of nerves. Every time she was just slightly behind, it gnawed at her.

Karina, as usual, breezed through the lesson with ease, answering the teacher's questions before anyone else could even raise their hand. Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Show-off", she thought bitterly.

But it wasn’t just Karina’s academic brilliance that made Y/N so bitter. No, it was something more. Something that she’d never admit to herself, let alone anyone else. Karina’s beauty, her effortless grace—it made Y/N feel small, inadequate.

Still, Y/N couldn't let herself back down. She couldn’t afford to lose to Karina. Not when everything she had worked for was on the line.

If she thinks she's going to stay at the top, she’s got another thing coming, Y/N thought.

---

Days passed, and the rivalry between Y/N and Karina only grew more intense. Every test, every presentation, every little moment in the classroom felt like another battle to be won. Y/N didn’t back down—she never did. Her fierce determination kept her fighting for that top spot, no matter how many times she lost to Karina.

Yet, over time, something strange began to happen. The biting tension between them shifted, subtly at first, but unmistakably. Karina started to look at Y/N in ways that she hadn’t before. Sometimes, when they crossed paths in the hallways, Y/N would catch her watching, those sharp, intelligent eyes narrowing in a way that made her pulse quicken, even though she refused to admit it.

One day after class, as Y/N grabbed her bag, preparing to rush out of the room to avoid another “friendly” interaction with Karina, she was stopped.

“Y/N,” Karina’s voice rang out.

Y/N froze, her fingers tightening on the strap of her bag. "Not again," she thought.

“What do you want, Karina?” Y/N’s voice was curt, defensive, but there was a slight tremor in it that she couldn't hide.

Karina stood at the front of the class, her gaze soft but unwavering. Her usual confident demeanor had a hint of something else—something Y/N couldn’t quite place. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Y/N shot her a skeptical glance. “About what?”

“About... us,” Karina said, taking a step closer.

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest. "Us? There’s no ‘us,’" she thought, though the idea gnawed at her.

“What’s there to talk about?” Y/N snapped, but her bravado was starting to crack under the intensity of Karina’s gaze.

Karina smiled softly, a gentle curve of her lips that made Y/N’s stomach twist in unexpected ways. “You know, Y/N, for someone so smart, you sure don’t see a lot of things right in front of you.”

Y/N blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Karina’s smile faltered just a bit, as if she was debating how much to reveal. “You’re not as invisible as you think you are,” she said quietly. “I’ve noticed you. More than you realize.”

Y/N scoffed. “Oh, please. You’re just trying to get under my skin again. It’s not going to work.”

But Karina wasn’t backing down. She took another step closer, her presence filling the space between them in a way that left Y/N’s pulse racing. “I think I’ve been getting under your skin for a while now.”

The words hung in the air, charged with an energy neither of them could deny. Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. Was Karina saying what she thought she was saying?

“Are you—” Y/N started, but Karina interrupted her with a shake of her head.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Karina said softly. “But we don’t have to talk about it right now. I just wanted you to know.”

Y/N’s mind was racing, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion. She wanted to lash out, to argue, but instead, something held her back. Something about the sincerity in Karina’s voice, the way she looked at her, made her hesitate.

“You’re… not mad at me anymore?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t know why she cared, but she did. She couldn’t ignore it.

Karina’s expression softened even more. “No, Y/N. I’m not mad at you. I never really was. I just wanted to get to know you better.”

Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest. This wasn’t how she thought things would go. She had spent so much time despising Karina, focusing on her as the enemy, that she hadn’t realized just how much she had come to depend on her presence—her every move. Her words, her smile, everything about Karina now felt like a part of the puzzle that was her life, a puzzle Y/N had spent too long trying to ignore.

Before she could speak, Karina’s hand brushed lightly against hers, the touch soft and fleeting, but it was enough to send a shockwave through Y/N.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” Karina added quietly. “But just think about it, okay?”

Y/N swallowed, staring at their hands for a moment before lifting her gaze to meet Karina’s. Her heart was in her throat, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t have the words to keep fighting.

“Okay,” Y/N muttered, feeling strangely vulnerable. She couldn’t help but feel the weight of Karina’s presence in a way she never had before.

As Y/N walked out of the classroom, her mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions. She couldn’t admit it—not to herself, not to anyone—but for the first time, she felt something other than disdain for Karina. Something unfamiliar, and maybe, just maybe, something a little dangerous.

---

The days after that conversation with Karina left Y/N in a whirlwind of confusion. She couldn’t escape the thoughts of Karina, not completely. Every time she closed her eyes, Karina’s smile flashed before her. Every time they passed each other in the hallway, Y/N felt the same strange sensation—the flutter in her chest, the way her pulse seemed to race when their eyes met. It was disorienting, and for the first time, it was all Y/N could do to keep her composure.

She couldn’t—wouldn’t—admit to herself what was happening.

It wasn’t just that Karina was brilliant, beautiful, and graceful. It wasn’t even that Karina was starting to see past Y/N’s tough exterior, to the person she’d spent so long hiding. No, it was deeper than that. The truth was undeniable, and yet, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to confront it.

"I don’t like her," Y/N told herself over and over, though the words felt empty and hollow each time. "I can’t like her. Not Karina."

But the more she tried to push those thoughts aside, the stronger they became.

The following week, Y/N found herself in the school library, desperately trying to focus on her studies, but her thoughts kept drifting. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Karina had looked at her when she said she wanted to get to know her better. The softness in her eyes, the vulnerability she rarely showed to anyone.

"She’s just playing games," Y/N tried to convince herself. "She’s just trying to mess with me. She’s always been so... perfect, and I’ve always been the one who had to fight for everything. There’s no way she could actually like me."

Yet, every time she thought about Karina’s words, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more there. Karina had said it herself: "I just want to get to know you better." What did that mean? Was she really interested in Y/N? Or was this just another one of her attempts to get under Y/N’s skin, to show that she was untouchable, to play with her emotions like a cat with a mouse?

But no matter how much Y/N tried to deny it, she couldn’t stop wondering if Karina was being honest. And that, more than anything, unsettled her.

“Y/N?”

The voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see Karina standing at the entrance of the library, a hesitant expression on her face.

“Uh, hey, Karina,” Y/N muttered, her heart racing despite herself. She quickly shoved her textbook aside, trying to hide the fact that her hands were shaking.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Karina said, her voice soft and unassuming. She took a step closer, her eyes scanning the bookshelves as if she were looking for something.

“No, it’s fine,” Y/N replied, forcing a casual tone into her voice. She leaned back in her chair, trying to appear nonchalant, though her heart was still pounding in her chest.

Karina paused for a moment, then sat down across from Y/N at the table, her movements graceful and deliberate. She looked up at Y/N with a soft smile. “I was wondering if you wanted to study together for the upcoming test. I mean, we’re both at the top of the class, right? Might as well make the most of it.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, still trying to keep her cool. "Why is she doing this?"

“Sure,” Y/N said, not wanting to appear too eager to spend time with Karina, even though every part of her was screaming to do just that. “But don’t think I’m going easy on you. You might be the top of the class, but I’m still right behind you.”

Karina chuckled softly, her laughter light and melodic. “I wouldn’t expect you to. That’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile in return, though she quickly wiped it away, reminding herself that this was still a competition. She had to keep her guard up. "No feelings. No distractions."

The two of them spent the next hour studying in silence, the only sounds being the rustle of pages and the occasional tap of a pencil. But even in this quiet space, Y/N couldn’t ignore the way her heart raced every time Karina looked at her, or how every brush of their hands or shared glance sent a jolt of warmth through her.

"Focus," Y/N told herself. "You’re here to study, nothing more."

But it was getting harder and harder to ignore the pull between them. The way Karina would glance at her over the top of her book, the way she would smile whenever Y/N got something right, her eyes lighting up with genuine pride. Karina was warm and attentive in ways Y/N had never expected.

And the worst part? Y/N was starting to enjoy it. More than she should.

“Y/N,” Karina said suddenly, breaking the silence. Y/N looked up, startled.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re a lot more than just the ‘second top student,’” Karina said, her voice serious now. There was no hint of teasing, just a quiet sincerity that Y/N wasn’t used to hearing from her.

Y/N blinked, unsure of how to respond. Her throat felt tight. "She’s looking at me like..."

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked, her voice hoarse despite her best efforts to sound normal.

Karina didn’t answer right away. She just stared at Y/N, her expression unreadable. Then, as if making up her mind, she leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, you’re smart, yes. Fierce, yes. But there’s so much more to you, Y/N. You don’t have to keep pretending that you’re just the tough girl who doesn’t care. I see through that.”

Y/N froze. She had no words. The way Karina was looking at her... it was as if she could see straight through the walls Y/N had built around herself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N muttered, her voice sounding weak even to her own ears. She clenched her fists under the table, trying to fight the heat rising in her chest.

“I think you do,” Karina said softly, her eyes locking onto Y/N’s with a knowing intensity. “But I’m not going to push you. Not now. I just want you to know that I’m not the enemy here, Y/N.”

Y/N swallowed hard. Her emotions were all over the place—confusion, fear, desire, and something else she couldn’t name. She looked away, unable to meet Karina’s gaze anymore.

"What do I even feel?" Y/N thought, her mind a whirlwind of uncertainty. She didn’t want to like Karina, didn’t want to admit how much she was drawn to her. But the more Karina’s words echoed in her mind, the more Y/N realized that the lines between hatred and attraction were starting to blur.

“I’ll think about it,” Y/N whispered, more to herself than to Karina.

Karina smiled softly, and for the first time, Y/N didn’t feel the need to push it away.

---

The following day, Y/N couldn’t shake the weight of the conversation with Karina. Every time she tried to focus on anything, her mind kept circling back to those soft words Karina had said, the way her gaze lingered on her, the warmth in her voice when she spoke.

It was maddening.

Y/N tried to convince herself that she was just overthinking it. Karina was a flirt, right? It was just a game for her. After all, she had everything—brains, beauty, popularity. Why would someone like Karina be interested in someone like Y/N, who was always second-best, always fighting for attention?

"She’s just messing with me," Y/N thought bitterly. "It’s a game, and I’m not going to play along."

But despite all the arguments swirling in her mind, there was a part of her that couldn’t let go of what Karina had said: "I’m not the enemy here, Y/N."

Y/N tried to ignore it, but it gnawed at her like a splinter she couldn’t pull out. Her chest tightened every time she thought about Karina’s soft smile, the warmth in her eyes.

That afternoon, as Y/N walked down the hallway, she spotted Karina by her locker, laughing with a group of friends. The sight made Y/N’s heart skip a beat, but it also triggered something else—a spike of irritation that had been building since the day before.

Without thinking, Y/N marched up to her, her steps quick and purposeful.

“Karina!” Y/N’s voice was sharp, cutting through the noise of the hallway.

Karina looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. “Y/N? What’s going on?”

Y/N didn’t give her a chance to respond. “I’m done with this, Karina,” she said, her voice loud enough that it turned heads. “Stop playing your little games. I’m not some toy for you to mess with. I get it, okay? You think it’s funny, seeing me squirm, but I’m not falling for it.”

The hallway fell into a tense silence as people turned to watch the scene unfold. Karina stood frozen, her smile faltering, her friends exchanging confused glances.

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Karina said, her voice softer now, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes. “I’m not playing any games. I don’t—”

“Don’t give me that!” Y/N cut her off, her emotions spilling over like a dam breaking. “You act like you’re interested, like you care, but I know better. You’ve probably got some bet or something with your friends to see how far you can go. But I’m not stupid. I’m done being your plaything, Karina.”

Karina’s eyes widened in shock, and for a brief moment, Y/N saw something there—something vulnerable, something raw. But Y/N didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to feel the pang of regret starting to form in her chest.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Karina said quietly, her voice shaking slightly. “I’m not playing with you. I never was.”

Y/N shook her head, stepping back. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not falling for it anymore.” She turned on her heel, walking away, leaving Karina standing there, looking bewildered and hurt.

Y/N didn’t stop walking until she was outside, standing in the cold air, trying to steady her breath. The rush of adrenaline had started to fade, and now all she felt was an overwhelming sense of guilt.

"What did I just do?" Y/N thought, her heart pounding in her chest. "I shouldn’t have yelled at her like that. What if I was wrong? What if…"

But the more she thought about it, the more her anger flared again. She couldn’t help it. The idea of Karina playing with her emotions, of pretending to care just to mess with her, felt like a betrayal. Y/N hated feeling vulnerable, hated the idea of letting someone in only to be hurt.

But there was another voice, quieter and more persistent, that refused to be silenced. "What if Karina wasn’t playing a game? What if you’re just too scared to admit the truth?"

Y/N clenched her fists. "No. It’s easier to hate her. It’s easier to believe she’s just playing with me."

---

Later that day, Y/N was in the library, trying to drown out the guilt and confusion with more studying. She had her books open in front of her, but her mind kept drifting back to Karina. The way she had looked at her, her hurt expression, the way she hadn’t even tried to defend herself when Y/N accused her of playing games.

A voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Y/N.”

She turned quickly, expecting to see one of her classmates, but instead, it was Karina. She was standing at the entrance of the library, looking hesitant, her expression soft and earnest. There was no hint of a game in her eyes, no teasing smile. Just… sincerity.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat.

“What do you want?” Y/N asked, her voice more defensive than she intended, but she couldn’t help it. Seeing Karina here, after everything that had happened, made her feel exposed, vulnerable.

“I just… I need you to understand,” Karina said, taking a cautious step forward. “I’m not playing with you, Y/N. I never was. I don’t know how to make you see that, but I can’t just let you walk away thinking that.”

Y/N stared at her, her emotions in turmoil. "Why does she look so… hurt?" Her heart clenched at the sight of Karina standing there, clearly torn.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Y/N said, her voice quieter now. “I thought… I thought you were just messing with me. I thought you were playing some kind of game, like everyone else.”

Karina’s expression softened, and she took another step closer. “I’m not like everyone else, Y/N. I didn’t want to hurt you. I never did. But I think you’re afraid to let someone care about you. And I get it. I do. I’ve seen how hard you fight to keep everyone at a distance. But I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to be close to you. To let you know that you don’t have to keep fighting alone.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her chest. Karina’s words were like a punch to the gut—soft, honest, and real. It was everything Y/N had been too afraid to admit, even to herself. The truth that had been lingering in her chest for weeks.

"Could it really be true?"

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, but the words stuck in her throat. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to untangle the mess of feelings inside her. The only thing she knew for sure was that, no matter how hard she fought it, something between her and Karina was changing.

Something "real".

---

The days after the confrontation were some of the hardest for Y/N. Every time she saw Karina in the halls or in class, the weight of what she had said—the way she had yelled at her, accused her—gnawed at her insides. She tried to keep her distance, pretending that everything was fine, but every time she looked at Karina, she felt a pang of guilt that she couldn’t shake.

It wasn’t just the way she had yelled at Karina. It was the realization that she had been wrong. That Karina wasn’t playing some cruel game. She wasn’t toying with Y/N’s feelings for fun. Karina had been honest with her, vulnerable in a way Y/N had never expected.

And now Y/N couldn’t ignore it anymore—couldn’t ignore the way her heart fluttered every time Karina smiled at her, the way her thoughts had drifted toward Karina more and more each day.

It wasn’t just admiration. It was something deeper. Something she had been too scared to admit.

I like her. I like Karina.

That thought had been haunting her for days, and Y/N couldn’t run from it any longer. She had to make things right. She had to apologize.

It was after school when Y/N finally found the courage to confront Karina. She spotted her walking toward the gates of the school, her long hair swaying gently behind her, and for a moment, Y/N hesitated. What if Karina didn’t want to hear it? What if she was angry with her?

"No. You need to apologize," Y/N thought firmly. "This isn’t about pride anymore."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N walked briskly toward Karina. The moment Karina saw her, her eyes widened in surprise, and she stopped walking, waiting for Y/N to catch up.

“Karina,” Y/N called out, her voice shaky but determined. “Can we talk?”

Karina hesitated for a moment, then nodded, her expression softening. “Of course. What’s up?”

Y/N’s heart raced as she took a few steps closer, standing in front of Karina. The words she had rehearsed in her mind seemed to disappear as soon as she opened her mouth.

“I… I owe you an apology,” Y/N started, her voice low. She looked down for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “I’m sorry for what I said the other day. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

Karina blinked, clearly surprised. “Y/N, you don’t have to apologize. I understand why you were upset. I should’ve explained things better.”

“No,” Y/N interrupted, shaking her head. “It wasn’t just that. I was… I was angry at myself. And at you, but it wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You didn’t deserve that.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Y/N felt her chest tighten, the vulnerability of the moment overwhelming her.

“Y/N,” Karina said gently, her voice softer than usual, “It’s okay. Really. I know I made you feel like I was playing with you, and I never meant to make you feel that way. But… I’m not playing games. I’m not that person.”

Y/N finally looked up, meeting Karina’s gaze. There was no anger there, only understanding. Karina wasn’t holding onto the past anymore. But Y/N still had more to say.

“I know. And I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, her heart pounding. “I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. How to handle you.”

Karina raised an eyebrow, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Me?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, you. I’ve been acting like an idiot because I didn’t want to admit that I… that I like you.”

Karina’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, Y/N thought she had said the wrong thing, that she had made things even more awkward. But then, Karina’s smile widened, and her expression softened.

“You like me?” Karina repeated softly, as if testing the words on her own lips.

Y/N nodded, her heart racing. “Yeah. I do. I’ve been trying to ignore it, trying to convince myself that it was just some stupid rivalry, but it’s more than that. I’ve been… scared.”

“Scared of what?” Karina asked gently, taking a small step forward, her voice full of warmth.

“Scared of being vulnerable,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of letting someone in. Scared of what liking you means. I’ve always fought to be the best, to not need anyone, and now… now I’m realizing that maybe I don’t want to fight it anymore.”

Karina’s eyes softened even further, and she reached out, her fingers brushing against Y/N’s hand in a gesture that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“I’m glad you’re being honest with me,” Karina said softly, her voice full of tenderness. “I never wanted to make you feel like you couldn’t trust me. And I’m sorry for that. But I’m glad you’re letting me in.”

Y/N took a deep breath, finally allowing herself to feel the relief that came with letting go of the fear that had been holding her back for so long. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t,” Karina said with a teasing smile, but there was no malice behind her words. “But I’m willing to forgive you.”

Y/N chuckled softly, the tension in her body slowly melting away. “You’re too nice to me.”

Karina shrugged playfully. “I’m not perfect. But I like you, too, Y/N. I think you’re amazing. You’re fierce and smart, and I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the words. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, the truth between them now out in the open.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” Y/N whispered, looking at Karina, her voice full of sincerity. “Not with you. Not if you don’t want to fight, either.”

Karina’s smile widened, her eyes sparkling with something that made Y/N’s chest feel tight. “I don’t want to fight anymore either.”

There was a brief, beautiful silence between them before Karina stepped closer, her fingers brushing against Y/N’s hand once more. “So... where do we go from here?”

Y/N hesitated for just a moment, her heart racing, before she finally allowed herself to answer, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Wherever you want to go.”

And with that, the walls that had once separated them—walls built on rivalry, fear, and confusion—came crashing down. The tension that had once been so suffocating now felt lighter, more hopeful. Karina was no longer just the girl who had been the object of Y/N’s rivalry. She was someone Y/N wanted to be close to.

Someone Y/N finally allowed herself to care for.

---

[dearjiwon]

FOCUS ──── yu jimin.

── .✦ (🥥) late-night practice was supposed to help you clear your head. but when karina walks in without a word and locks the door behind her, you realize she didn’t come to watch—she came to touch. and now she’s not stopping until you lose focus.

.ᐟ ݁ pairing: dom!idol!karina x sub!idol!reader

.ᐟ ݁ warnings: fingering, mirror sex, nipple play, orgasm denial, semi-public setting, slight degradation, hair pulling, slight thigh riding

.ᐟ ݁ word count: 2.4k

the studio had fallen quiet long ago. the kind of look quiet that blankets everything — soft, low, and humming with the aftertaste of sound. it was late, later than you meant to stay, and the building had emptied little by little over the last hour.

footsteps down hallways, echoes of laughter, the gentle thud of doors closing — all of it had faded. you were the only one left.

you moved through the routine again, muscles aching, sweat clinging to your skin like silk. the overhead fluorescents had been turned off, replaced by the dim ambient lights tucked along the ceiling, casting warm gold across the walls.

it softened everything — the mirror, the shadows, the shape of your body as it turned, dipped, stretched. it made the space feel intimate. private. not just a room, but a refuge.

you weren’t even sure why you stayed behind. the choreography had been drilled into your bones since last week, but something about tonight felt different.

your body still buzzed with the residual energy of rehearsal, of wanting to get it right, of needing to feel it in a way you hadn’t been able to during practice.

and so you kept moving, not for the sake of perfection, but for the quiet rush of being alone — of performing only for yourself, stripped of pressure, unobserved.

except you weren’t.

karina had slipped into the room unnoticed, as silent as a breath, barely a shadow against the hallway light before the door eased shut behind her.

she didn’t announce herself. didn’t speak. didn’t even let her footsteps reach you. she only stood just inside the room, letting her eyes adjust to the low lighting, and settled into a slow, observant silence.

her gaze held you — locked, unblinking, drinking in every movement with a stillness that was almost predatory.

you didn’t notice, too immersed in your own rhythm to feel the weight of her attention. and yet, there was something in the air that shifted.

it wrapped around you like heat, invisible and creeping, making your skin buzz with something just short of awareness.

she watched the way your body curved with each movement, the subtle flex of your stomach when you exhaled, the way your shirt clung to the small of your back, damp and rising slightly with each sharp twist of your hips.

she noticed how your shorts had ridden up, barely clinging to the edge of modesty. and how your sweat shimmered against your neck, collected at your collarbones.

it wasn’t the routine that had her this quiet. it was the way you danced like you didn’t know you were being watched. the way your face softened, lips parted, lashes low, the kind of unguarded expression that performers only wore when no one else was around.

she lingered in that moment like it was art — your body a living painting, one she wasn’t supposed to touch. not yet.

when she finally moved, it wasn’t to say anything. it was to act. slow, deliberate. her fingers curled around the lock and turned it until it clicked into place, quiet but absolute. the sound was nothing more than a whisper under the hum of the lights. but you didn’t flinch.

her approach was soundless, precise. each step closed the distance between you in careful silence, like she was stalking a moment instead of a person.

the heat radiating off your body was the first thing she felt as she got close — the smell of clean sweat, the faint perfume of your skin, the rhythmic rise and fall of your breath as you continued, unaware.

her chest hovered just behind your back. her hand hovered inches above your waist.

to which she touched you with calculated precision. her hands settled on your sides with the confidence of someone who had imagined this exact moment a hundred times over.

her grip wasn’t tentative or testing — it was final. claiming. one palm spread across your lower stomach, pressing you gently but firmly back into her body, while the other slid upward beneath your tank top, finding your heated skin.

you froze at the first contact, body jerking slightly, breath catching in your throat. but she didn’t flinch.

her lips were on your neck before you could even turn your head. open-mouthed and slow, her tongue tasted the salt on your skin before her teeth followed—grazing the delicate line where your shoulder met your throat.

her mouth moved like she’d been starved for you, but her hands remained steady, mapping the terrain of your stomach, your ribs, the slow curve of your sides as she lifted your shirt inch by inch.

you inhaled shakily, eyes flickering to the mirror in front of you, and the reflection nearly knocked the wind out of you.

her. behind you. dark eyes half-lidded, jaw tight, arms wrapped around your frame like she was sculpting you from the inside out. her expression was unreadable,

but her body gave her away — the tension in her shoulders, the way her chest rose and fell against your back, the way her fingers trembled just slightly when they brushed over the curve of your bra.

your shirt came off slowly, tugged upward with expert care. her knuckles dragged along your spine as she peeled the fabric over your head, revealing you inch by inch to the low light and her hungry gaze.

she didn’t pause to admire — not yet. she simply dropped the shirt somewhere behind her, hands returning immediately to your waist, thumbs brushing under the band of your bra like she was testing whether you were ready to fall apart.

and you were.

her fingers curled under the fabric and eased it up, not frantic, not rushed — just slow and sure. each movement was deliberate, as if she wanted you to feel every inch of her skin against yours.

your breath stuttered when her hands cupped your breasts from behind, the heat of her palms seeping into your skin, thumbs dragging over your nipples with just enough pressure to make your stomach tighten.

your eyes fluttered shut, only to open again a moment later when you caught the sound of your own breath fogging the mirror. you looked at yourself, and what you saw made your cheeks burn — flushed skin, eyes already glassy, lips parted as your chest rose and fell against her touch.

karina pressed herself closer. her thigh nudged between your legs, a firm line of muscle you couldn’t help but grind against once. then again. the pressure made you whimper softly, and she felt it — the sound, the way your hips twitched. her lips found your shoulder, tongue tasting sweat before she spoke against your skin, voice a quiet, low hum.

“you’re already so worked up.”

her tone was calm, almost amused. but underneath it was hunger. restraint. the kind that made your pulse flutter.

she let you keep rolling your hips against her thigh, her hands still palming your breasts, teasing each nipple until they stiffened completely. when your rhythm started to stutter — hips searching for more friction than her leg could give — she shifted.

her right hand slid down from your chest, slow and smooth, dragging along your stomach until it reached the band of your shorts. she slipped inside without hesitation, her fingers brushing the damp heat between your thighs.

“fuck,” she breathed, soft and barely there. “you’re soaked.”

your body jolted at the contact. the first touch was featherlight, the backs of her fingers gliding over your folds —

just enough to tease, not enough to satisfy. her touch was confident, practiced, like she knew exactly what you needed and was going to take her time giving it.

then she pressed her fingers flat against your clit, and your breath hitched sharply.

she didn’t move quickly. her circles were slow, lazy, perfectly controlled. your hips rocked down into her hand, chasing the friction, and she chuckled quietly against your neck, her free arm curling around your waist again to hold you steady.

“keep watching,” she murmured. “i want you to see what you look like when i touch you.”

and god — you did. you had to. your reflection was the filthiest thing you’d ever seen: chest rising and falling, nipples peaked from her earlier attention, your face flushed and slack with pleasure as you ground your pussy into her palm.

she dipped her fingers lower. two of them slipped between your folds, slick with arousal, and then one pushed inside — slow, all the way to the knuckle. you gasped, grabbing at the mirror for balance as your walls clenched around her.

your forehead hit the mirror, your legs shaking already. her finger began to move, curling gently inside you with every stroke. then the second finger joined, stretching you open, fucking you deeper, harder. her other hand returned to your clit, resuming those sinful little circles that had your thighs trembling.

“that’s it,” she cooed, her mouth right against your ear. “just let me take care of you. don’t think. just feel.”

and you did. your body melted into her hands, back arching, hips grinding down into the friction she gave you. her fingers were soaked — every pump into your pussy pulling a wet sound from between your legs that made your face burn hotter.

“you hear that?” she asked, fingers thrusting faster now. “listen to how wet you are for me.”

you whimpered. it was all you could do. every nerve in your body was lit up, your hips twitching in frantic little jerks as her fingers worked inside you, dragging slick and hot and relentless, pushing you closer with each pulse of pressure. your body didn’t just want to cum—it ached for it. thighs trembling, stomach tightening, jaw hanging loose as your moans caught in your throat.

you could feel it—the orgasm clawing up your spine, tightening your muscles, cresting, burning bright in your core. it was there, right there, and you pushed your hips back into her hand, chasing it like instinct.

but her fingers… slowed. just enough. just subtle.

still inside you, still moving—but the tempo shifted. her thrusts shallowed. her palm lifted off your clit. she didn’t stop—no, that would’ve been merciful. she changed the way she fucked you. denied you with control.

“no,” she murmured, voice smooth against your neck, low and final. “not like that.”

you choked on a sound—something like a sob, something like a plea. your body kept trying to move, to finish what she’d started, but she held you in place.

her free arm locked around your waist, her other hand still inside you but moving slower now, stroking deeper, more deliberately.

you were twitching. squirming. your clit throbbed, untouched and aching. your pussy clenched around her fingers with every slow pull and push, sucking her in deeper like your body was begging for friction she refused to give.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” she whispered, almost condescending. “too fast. you don’t get to cum like that. not yet.”

you nodded, shaking, desperate. “karina—please—”

her hand moved lower again, fingers slipping out with a lewd sound, coated in your slick. she let them drag against your folds, featherlight, brushing your clit just once and watching you jolt against the mirror. her mouth was at your shoulder now, breathing steady, calm. completely unaffected while you shook for her.

then—her tone changed.

“you want to cum?” she murmured. “then take it like i want you to.”

and suddenly, everything changed.

she fucked her fingers back into you—deep, fast, filthy. her pace was unforgiving this time, like she was making up for every second she’d held back.

her other hand pressed flat against your lower stomach, holding you steady, pushing down to keep the pressure tight inside.

her fingers curled up, right there, right into that soft, spongy place that made your knees buckle. your hands slapped the mirror again, your breath fogging the glass as you gasped, choked, whimpered out her name.

and then she added pressure.

her palm ground into your clit now—hard, perfect. not teasing, not circling. just firm, unrelenting pressure that made your hips snap forward, your thighs shaking as your whole body tried to fight what was coming.

you were moaning now—loud, desperate, the kind of sound that wasn’t even words anymore. your body trembled, sweat dripping down the backs of your knees, your hair sticking to your temples, chest heaving.

she kept going. her fingers thrust faster, deeper, curling just right as her palm rocked into your clit with every movement.

you couldn’t even speak anymore. couldn’t beg. couldn’t breathe.

she kissed your shoulder again, sweet and mocking, and whispered, “there you go. now you can come.”

and you did. your body exploded. your orgasm hit with no warning, no build-up left—it had been building. and now it was everything.

your muscles locked, your back arched so hard it hurt, your thighs clamped tight around her hand as your pussy clenched and gushed around her fingers.

you screamed. sharp. hoarse. your vision went white, your body convulsing like she’d pulled the orgasm straight out of your soul.

her fingers never stopped. they kept going, stroking you through the crash, milking every wave until your legs collapsed beneath you.

she caught you.

one arm held you up, the other still buried in your cunt, now wet and twitching and spent, your thighs slick with your own cum.

your head fell back against her shoulder, mouth open, drool slicking your chin, your eyes unfocused. your chest heaved.

and karina just smiled—soft, smug, her breath hot against your cheek.

your body sagged against the mirror, too drained to hold yourself up. your breath came in shallow, uneven pulls, lips parted as you tried to gather yourself—tried to remember what it felt like to not be unraveling.

her hand slid from your waist to your back, tracing gentle lines over your spine as if she could soothe the trembling away.

she didn’t say anything at first. just let the silence sit between you, heavy and humid, like the echo of what had just happened still clung to the walls.

then, softly, her mouth brushed your temple.

“next time,” she murmured, “i want you to keep your eyes on the mirror the whole time.”

her thumb tilted your chin up, breath tickling your jaw as her voice dipped lower, firmer—

“and focus.”

[blossomcola]

Mean r overstimulating Karina with her tits:( that's literally stuck on my head since Dirty Work release because we need to talk about sub!Karina

pairing. needy!karina x fem reader.

content warnings. nipple play, titsucking.

karina knows she has the most beautiful pair of tits and that made her develop new ideas in her head. you don’t have to be very smart to know that she can most likely cum in her pants just by someone playing with her nipples because she probably spends day and night playing and pinching her nipples to train herself :( even if she is being fucked and her breasts are not getting enough attention or are not being touched at all, it wouldn’t take long for Karina to bring her hands to her own chest and shamelessly touch herself until you get the cue and finally start giving her the real attention she wants.

i know she would wear the shortest or tightest shirts when she is with you because she wants your full attention, yes, she is an attention whore too. when she feels that the clothes are not yet perfectly cut or made, she would surely adjust her shirt in the middle of her sentence or she would prefer to do it when she is concentrating on “listening” to you speak because she would love how your gaze drops for a second while your words slur a little as you unconsciously look at her chest. karina would do things in a sneaky or casual way but both you and she know that she is just pretending to have no idea what she is doing just to provoke you.

and she swims shirtless in the comfort of your shared home so you can play with her chest whenever you feel the need or just when you’re bored <3 there are times when you can be sitting on the couch watching anything on tv and out of nowhere she will jump on your lap without saying absolutely anything because she doesn’t need words to let you know what she wants: attention on her tits, and who are you to refuse when you also want the same thing as karina?

[blissfulflw]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘

Pairing- Yu Jimin (Karina) x fem reader

Genre- Smut, Fluff

Word count- 3718

Warnings- 18+ interactions only, public teasing, rough sex, fingering, creampie, light choking, overstimulation, g!p Jimin, mean Jimin, dom Jimin, sub reader, oral, size kink, NSFW

The first thing you notice when you step into the halls of Kwanga Academy isn’t the marble floors or the gold-plated lockers — it’s the way people move. Like they’re afraid of stepping out of line. Like the air itself is policed.

You don’t belong here.

You knew that the second you got the acceptance email. Scholarship kid. Public school transfer. A nobody in a sea of old money and perfect teeth. You keep your head down and your voice lower.

It works — for a week.

Then she notices you.

Yu Jimin. They call her “Queen Jimin” — not to her face, because she’d hate that. No one dares pretend she needs a crown. She already rules everything.

She’s cruel without lifting a finger, devastatingly beautiful, and always flanked by her three lieutenants:

• Minjeong, cold and clever with a permanent eye-roll.

• Aeri, sharp-tongued and observant, always whispering things into Jimin’s ear.

• Yizhou, the loud, glittering one — deceptively sweet until she isn’t.

They don’t walk through the halls. They stalk.

And somehow, for some reason, their leader’s eyes land on you one morning before homeroom.

You feel it before you see it — that hot prickle of being watched. You look up from your book, and she’s standing there, twenty feet away, one arm hooked around Aeri’s shoulder, her head tilted just slightly as she stares.

Right at you.

You look away.

Mistake.

A chair scrapes loudly in front of you. You flinch, your book slipping halfway off the desk.

“Hi, new girl,” Jimin says, sliding into the seat across from yours like she owns it — because she does.

You blink. “…Hi?”

Her smirk is slow, like she’s already bored. “You don’t talk much.”

You fumble for words. “I—I just don’t know anyone yet.”

“Aw,” she coos, falsely sweet. “Maybe you’re just not very interesting.”

Minjeong snickers behind her. Yizhou leans over your shoulder to glance at your book. “What even is that? Shakespeare?”

You don’t respond. You wish the floor would eat you.

But Jimin leans in closer — enough for you to catch the expensive perfume she wears. Sharp, elegant. Like danger wrapped in silk.

“Here’s the thing,” she whispers, and only you can hear it: “I don’t like girls who hide. It’s creepy.”

Your cheeks burn. You try to look down, but her hand is suddenly on your chin — manicured fingers tilted just enough to make you face her.

“Look at me when I’m talking,” she says, tone low and ice-smooth. “You want to stay invisible? Too late.”

Then she pulls away like nothing happened, brushing a strand of hair over her shoulder.

“See you around, nerd.”

They’re gone before you can breathe again.

You sit frozen, fingers clenched around the edge of your book.

What just happened?

_____

You try to ignore her.

You stop reading in the courtyard and move to the back stairwell between classes. You eat lunch in the library, pretending to study, pretending you’re not afraid of what might happen if she corners you again.

But it doesn’t matter where you go.

She finds you.

It starts small.

Your locker, one morning, is wide open. Your books rearranged. Nothing stolen — but tucked neatly in the middle is a folded note on thick, expensive paper.

Just one word, in perfect handwriting:

Cute.

Your breath catches.

Later, in the library, you reach for a book — and a hand gets there first. Long fingers brush yours. You look up. She’s there.

Yu Jimin.

Glassy eyes, lips barely curved, chewing a piece of gum slowly.

“I liked that quote you underlined in English today,” she murmurs, pulling the book off the shelf. “The one about monsters wearing pretty faces.”

You didn’t even know she was paying attention.

You catch her watching you in class, phone hidden under her desk, angled just right.

Taking pictures.

She doesn’t stop when you notice.

She just grins.

You try to tell yourself she’s just messing with you. Some cruel game. That’s what mean girls do, right? Pick a loser and string them along until they snap?

But there’s something in the way she looks at you — not just amusement.

Possession.

Like she already owns you. Like she’s waiting for you to figure it out.

_____

Friday.

Someone shoves a glittering black envelope into your hand during last period.

No name. Just an address. A party. Tonight.

You’re not invited — you’re summoned.

You don’t want to go.

But you know you will.

_____

That Night

It’s loud.

Music rattles the walls, neon lights flashing in time with your heartbeat. You’re out of place — too sober, too anxious, too alone. But you catch sight of her upstairs, leaning over a balcony, a red solo cup in hand.

She sees you instantly.

Jimin smiles like a cat that’s been waiting all day to play with its food.

She doesn’t wave. She just tilts her head.

Come here.

You don’t remember deciding to climb the stairs, but your legs move anyway.

People part for you. Like they know better than to get between Jimin and her newest game.

You follow her down a hallway. Past closed doors, muffled laughter, the occasional moan.

She opens a door, steps in — doesn’t look back.

You hesitate.

Then enter.

She shuts it behind you.

Locks it.

Turns.

You realize then that you’re not afraid of her hurting you.

You’re afraid of how much you want her to.

_____

The door clicks shut behind you.

Jimin doesn’t speak.

She leans against it, arms crossed, the red solo cup abandoned somewhere in the hallway. Her eyes rake over you, slow and hot, like she’s undressing you with her gaze.

You stand frozen.

The bass thuds below your feet. But in this room, it’s silent — thick with something heavier than noise.

“I was wondering if you’d show,” she says finally, voice low. “I don’t like chasing people. Makes me…aggressive.”

Your mouth goes dry. “I didn’t ask you to—”

“I don’t care what you asked,” she cuts in smoothly, stepping closer. “You don’t get it yet, do you?”

She’s in front of you now. Close. Too close.

“I want you,” she whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “That means I get you.”

You try to back away, but your knees hit the bed.

She follows.

Her hand slides under your chin again — that same arrogant grip from before. She tilts your head up. “You keep running,” she says, tone like silk over steel. “But you want this. I see the way you shake when I touch you.”

You hate that she’s right.

You hate that you’re throbbing already. That her voice alone makes you weak.

Jimin smirks. “Say stop.”

Silence.

She waits.

You don’t say it.

“Good girl,” she breathes, and then she’s on you — lips crushing yours, hot and rough. Her tongue pushes past your lips like she owns your mouth, and maybe she does. You’re too stunned to fight. Too turned on to care.

Her hands are fast — under your shirt, over your bra, squeezing your breast like she’s been imagining it for weeks. You gasp, and she swallows it, grinding her hips into yours.

You feel it then.

Hard.

Strained beneath her jeans. Thick and real.

You freeze.

She feels you tense — pulls back, eyes gleaming with a wicked smile.

“Mm. Didn’t expect that?”

You don’t answer. You’re panting, red-faced, confused and aroused and overwhelmed.

Jimin bites your lower lip gently, then drags her mouth to your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you,” she whispers. “Right here. Right now. And everyone downstairs is going to keep partying while I ruin you.”

You whimper.

She laughs — low and dark. “Oh, now you’re being honest.”

She pushes you back onto the bed.

Your shirt is gone in seconds. Bra too. She doesn’t even pretend to be gentle — her mouth is on your chest, her hands everywhere. You try to cover yourself. She pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other tugging your skirt up.

She grinds into you again — and you moan.

“Feel that?” she pants. “That’s all for you.”

The friction is too much — she’s thick, hard, pressing between your legs like she’s already inside.

“I could take you like this,” she murmurs. “Dry. Fast. You’d cry, wouldn’t you? You’d beg.”

She kisses your throat. Then lower.

“But I want you wet. I want you desperate.”

She slides down your body. Pulls your panties off like she’s unwrapping a present.

And then her mouth is there — hot, slow, devastating.

You moan, thighs trembling, back arching. She doesn’t let go of your wrists.

She eats like she’s starved. Like she wants to taste your soul. You can’t think — you’re just gasps and stuttering breath, broken words, her name falling from your lips like a prayer.

She doesn’t stop until you’re soaked and shaking.

And then — she unbuckles her jeans.

You see it. Thick, flushed, veiny. Her cock, real enough it makes your legs go numb.

She strokes it once. Twice. Eyes locked on you.

“You’re mine now,” she says softly. “Say it.”

You hesitate.

She taps the head of her cock against your entrance.

“Say it,” she repeats, firmer.

“…I’m yours.”

Her smile is dangerous.

And then she thrusts in.

She thrusts in—slow, but deep.

You gasp, nearly choke on it. She’s so big.

It stretches more than you expected, her body pressed flush against yours. Jimin doesn’t move right away. She just leans in, forehead brushing yours, watching every twitch of your face as you try to adjust.

“You feel that?” she whispers. “So tight. You’re barely taking me.”

Your fingers dig into her arms. She’s hot, solid, the smell of her skin — perfume and sweat — making your head spin.

Then she moves.

Not gentle.

A sharp, slow pull and a hard snap of her hips forward that punches the breath out of your lungs. You cry out, and she groans low, voice dark and shaky with restraint.

“Fucking perfect.”

Her pace builds fast. Deep strokes, unrelenting, her hips slamming against yours like she’s trying to bury herself even deeper. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, muffled only by your moans.

She leans up to see it — watches her cock disappear inside you again and again. Her jaw tightens. “You’re taking it so well now. I knew you’d be a good girl underneath all that shy little shit.”

You try to bite back your sounds, try to stay quiet, but she notices. Of course she does.

“No,” she growls. “Let them hear you.”

She grabs your throat — not enough to choke, just enough to make you feel her there, claiming every part of you.

“Moan for me. You’re mine. Let them fucking hear it.”

You cry out when she angles her hips — just right. That spot. Again and again. You’re already close and she knows it.

“That’s it,” she pants, her free hand gripping your thigh to spread you wider. “Come on this cock. Soak it. I want you dripping down my legs.”

You fall apart — back arching, toes curling, your body shaking underneath her. You come hard, clenching around her, and Jimin moans like it’s her own release.

But she doesn’t stop.

She fucks you through it — faster, rougher, chasing her own high. She pulls out just enough to slam back in harder, your walls overstimulated and soaked.

“I should fill you,” she growls against your neck. “Should fuck a mess into you and make you walk home dripping with it.”

Your legs tremble. You’re begging now — you don’t even know for what.

“Shh,” she murmurs. “I know. I know, baby.”

She gives one more brutal thrust — then stills, groaning deep in her throat as she presses all the way in, holding you there, pulsing.

You feel the warmth flood inside.

You didn’t expect her to actually—

You gasp. “Jimin—”

Her hand slides over your mouth.

“I told you,” she says darkly, lips brushing your ear. “You’re mine now.”

You lie there — wrecked.

Legs spread, throat sore, skin flushed. Your clothes are bunched at your waist, Jimin still inside you, her weight braced above you on one arm, eyes burning into yours.

Neither of you speaks for a moment.

Then she pulls out.

Slow. Deliberate.

You hiss at the emptiness, the way your body clenches around nothing now, sore and too sensitive. You expect her to just leave — like she got what she wanted.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, Jimin sits back on her knees between your legs and drags her fingers through the mess she made. Her cum dripping from you, slick and warm on her fingertips.

She watches it drip out like it’s art. Then, without a word, she pushes two fingers back in.

You moan weakly, thighs twitching.

“You’re still open,” she murmurs. “So pretty like this. All ruined.”

Her voice is softer now. A little dazed. Like she can’t believe what she’s done — and can’t stop staring at it either.

She leans down again, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. Gentle. Too gentle. It makes your chest ache.

You try to sit up, but she pushes you back down with a firm hand.

“Relax. You’re not going anywhere.”

Her eyes meet yours. Dark. Hungry. Almost…affectionate.

“I should’ve done this the first day,” she says. “Marked you before anyone else got ideas.”

You blink, still catching your breath. “You act like I’m yours to own.”

She smirks. “You are.”

“You don’t even know me.”

Jimin leans in again, brushing her nose along your cheek. “I know enough. You blush when I talk. You flinch when I touch. You melt when I fuck you.”

Her lips ghost over yours. Not a kiss — a warning.

“You want to be owned. Don’t lie.”

You say nothing.

You should hate her.

You should be disgusted, furious, afraid.

But you’re not.

You’re addicted.

She helps you clean up, oddly careful — tugging your skirt back down, finding your shirt, helping you sit up. She doesn’t let anyone see you leave.

Her arm stays around your waist like a leash the entire way downstairs.

And when Minjeong raises an eyebrow, when Yizhou smirks and whispers something to Aeri, Jimin doesn’t speak — she just tightens her hold on you.

Daring them to look too long.

_____

Outside, you stop near the gate. You want to leave. To think. To breathe.

But Jimin steps in front of you, hand on your face again. Her thumb strokes your cheek, almost tender.

“Don’t talk to anyone else next week,” she says calmly. “Don’t look at anyone. Don’t let them look at you.”

You swallow. “Or what?”

She smiles, brushing your lips with hers — a mockery of sweetness.

“I won’t be gentle next time.”

Then she turns and walks back into the party.

Leaving you outside, weak-kneed, heart pounding, the ghost of her mouth still on yours.

You realize something then.

You’re not afraid she’ll do it again.

You’re afraid of how much you want her to.

_____

Kwanga’s cafeteria isn’t a place for food.

It’s a battlefield.

And you usually survive by staying quiet, sitting alone in the back corner, eyes low, avoiding the stares and whispers.

But today — it’s different.

You can feel them watching you the second you walk in.

Especially her.

Yu Jimin sits at the center table like a queen on her throne, legs crossed, iced coffee untouched beside her. Minjeong’s next to her, lazily scrolling her phone. Aeri’s laughing at something Yizhou just whispered — but all of them turn their eyes on you when you pass.

You clutch your tray tighter. Head down. Pretend you don’t see her.

You barely make it two steps past their table before—

A hand grabs your wrist.

You freeze.

And then you’re yanked.

Your tray clatters to the ground — forgotten — as Jimin pulls you into her lap like you’re nothing but a doll. Your knees hit the bench, legs straddling hers before you can think, before you can breathe.

Gasps around the room. Stares. Phones lifted, already recording.

Jimin doesn’t care.

She’s too busy pulling your face down close to hers, one arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other braced on your thigh — high on your thigh.

You try to squirm, red-faced. “Jimin—what are you—”

“Shh,” she murmurs, her voice low enough for only you to hear. “This is mine. I’m showing them.”

Your heart slams in your chest.

“Smile,” she adds, smug. “Or I’ll make you.”

Minjeong watches with that unreadable, amused stare. Yizhou giggles. Aeri leans in closer like she’s studying an art piece.

“You’re so tense,” Jimin purrs, dragging her nails slowly up your thigh. “Should I help you relax? Right here?”

You jolt. “Don’t.”

She tilts her head. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t embarrass me,” you whisper.

She smirks. “Sweetheart, I own you. Being on my lap is the least embarrassing thing I could do to you.”

You bite your lip.

Your body shouldn’t want this — shouldn’t pulse with need when she touches you like this, holds you like this, stares at you like you’re hers.

But you do.

And she knows.

Her fingers shift slightly — just enough to press between your legs. Not hard. Not obvious. But intimate. Enough to make your breath hitch.

“You’re already wet, aren’t you?” she whispers in your ear. “Right here in front of everyone.”

You shut your eyes. Her friends are watching. The whole school is watching.

And Jimin couldn’t look more proud.

You’re hers now.

And she’s never letting go.

Your skin is on fire.

Everyone’s watching. You can feel it — the weight of stares, the buzz of whispers, the sound of a phone clicking a photo from somewhere nearby.

You should pull away.

But instead, your body betrays you.

You tuck your face against Jimin’s neck.

Hide.

Your breath fans against her skin as you bury yourself there, cheek flushed, arms curling instinctively around her shoulders like you need her to shield you.

And for a moment — just a moment — she goes still.

You feel it in the way her hand pauses on your thigh, the way her posture shifts slightly, chest rising against yours in something almost like surprise.

Then her grip tightens.

Not possessive this time — but firm. Like she’s grounding you. Claiming you in a new way.

“Oh?” she breathes, lips brushing your temple. “You’re shy now?”

You don’t answer.

You just nod — tiny, barely noticeable.

Jimin exhales a quiet laugh, but there’s no mockery in it. No cruelty.

Only satisfaction.

And something else.

Something warmer.

She adjusts you slightly in her lap, pulling your legs to one side, your whole body curling against her like you fit there. Like you belong there.

“Look at you,” she murmurs against your ear, voice soft and smug. “Hiding in me like you haven’t been running all week.”

You close your eyes, face still hidden in her neck. Her perfume surrounds you — expensive, heady, familiar now. Your fingers twitch on her jacket sleeve.

“Don’t like them staring,” you whisper.

Her jaw flexes. You feel it against your cheek.

She doesn’t like that.

You’re hers. No one should be allowed to look.

She kisses the side of your head — once. Brief. Gentle.

“They can stare all they want,” she says, low. “Just means they know who you belong to.”

You don’t reply. You just let yourself stay there, pressed against her, melting a little deeper into the twisted warmth she gives — attention and danger all at once.

And Jimin…

She holds you tighter than she ever has before.

_____

The cafeteria buzzes back to life.

Eventually, the whispers fade, and everyone returns to their own drama, gossip, and half-eaten lunches. But you’re still in her lap — curled into her like she’s home, like you’ve finally stopped fighting whatever this is.

No one questions it now.

Because Jimin made it clear.

You’re hers.

She’s still talking to Minjeong and the others like nothing’s changed — like you’re not tucked into her, arms around her neck, your head resting just under her jaw. Her tone is light, a little bored, like she’s forgotten how aggressively she claimed you ten minutes ago.

But her hand never stops moving.

She’s tracing soft, absentminded circles on your bare thigh. Fingertips under your skirt, but it’s not dirty. Not this time. It’s… comfort. It’s hers, and you’re letting her have it.

You barely react when she plucks a grape from her tray and lifts it to your mouth.

“Eat,” she says gently, not even looking at you.

You part your lips without a word.

She feeds you one, then another — all while discussing weekend plans with Aeri, lazily dodging questions about where she disappeared during the party last week. Yizhou laughs and tosses a crumpled napkin at her. Jimin swats it away with a scoff, arm tightening around your waist as she shifts you slightly in her lap.

You don’t resist. You nestle closer.

“God,” Minjeong mutters, sipping her drink. “She’s finally gone full cling.”

“Shut up,” Jimin replies, but she’s smiling.

She dips her fingers into the side of her iced coffee, scoops a bit of whipped cream, and taps it on your lower lip.

You blink at her.

“Lick,” she says.

You obey.

The corner of her mouth lifts just a little.

“You see that?” she says, half-laughing, turning to the girls. “Didn’t even have to say please.”

“Whipped,” Aeri mutters under her breath.

“Obsessed,” Yizhou adds, biting into a cookie.

Jimin rolls her eyes — but her hand comes up and strokes your hair gently, thumb brushing your cheek, her fingers threading lazily through the strands like you’re something fragile she doesn’t want to break yet.

You can feel it now. All of it.

You’re hers. Fully.

But maybe…

Maybe she’s a little bit yours too.

And when the bell rings — loud and shrill — Jimin doesn’t let you move.

She just kisses your temple, smooth and unbothered, like this is routine now.

Like this is where you’ll always be.

[uchizana]

CHORDS OF LOVE

synopsis: during an unexpected storm that traps you and karina, the talented guitarist of aespa, alone in the studio, she decides it’s time to stop hiding her heart. with the rest of the band away seeking dinner, the atmosphere crackles with the potential for confession. as the wind howls outside, will karina's brave revelation about her long-standing crush bring the two of you closer, or will fear of breaking the band’s sacred harmony send her heart spiraling into uncertainty?

pairing: rockstar!karina x bandmate!fem reader

warnings: kissing, none more that I know of

word count: 2.7k

— english isn't my first language so sorry if there are any grammar mistakes.

aespa masterlist.

jimin lets out a sigh of frustration, letting the pen fall free from the grip of her fingers, landing on the worn leather of the notebook. the pages are overwhelmed with half-formed lyrics, doodles of hearts and stars, and errant thoughts. it’s all a chaotic testament to her inner turmoil, a reflection of the pressure she feels to deliver yet another brilliant album. she drops her body abruptly onto the swivel chair, causing her to squeal at the sudden force, a sound that slices through the silence of the studio.

what was going on? well, jimin was trying to write a song for the next album of the rock band she was in—the band you were also a part of, and not just a member, but the very heart of its musical identity. it was complicated enough that the last few weeks had seen her pacing frantically when she wasn’t teetering on the edge of frustration.

the impossible task looms larger every moment, each hollow space on the page amplifying her every doubt. twelve songs, twelve distinct messages, and she still has nothing but crossed out words and half-formed melodies that refuse to budge from the intricacies of her mind

“hey! you okay?” comes a voice from behind her.

it’s aeri, her sandy-blonde hair falling over her face as she leans against the door frame, followed closely by minjeong and yizhuo, both of whom wear playful smiles. they giggle like schoolgirls as they watch her theatrical outburst, a wave of warmth washing over jimin despite her frustration.

“what was that for?” yizhuo laughs, her eyes sparkling.

“just trying to summon some creativity over here,” jimin groans, throwing her head back dramatically.

just then, a deep rumble of thunder rolls through the air, pulling her from her reverie. she jumps slightly in her seat, feeling the giggles of her bandmates filter into the little bubble of her frustration. aeri, with her ever-gleeful spirit; minjeong, always the pragmatist; and yizhuo, who somehow always finds the light in the chaos. they share a laugh at her expense, teasing her about how a mere thunderclap was enough to shatter her precious concentration. the light-heartedness brings a slight grin to her face, easing the tight knot forming in her chest.

“jimin,” aeri says playfully, “you look like the world’s weight is on your shoulders. relax a little. we have plenty of time before we need to head into the studio to record anyway.” the sincerity in her voice softens the ribbing, a reminder to jimin that she doesn’t have to shoulder this burden alone.

the thunder doesn’t just signal a storm outside; it mirrors the tempest within her. “i swear, these lyrics are just not coming together,” she admits, the words creeping out reluctantly. they mean more than just her struggles with songwriting—they seep into her personal thoughts.

“we didn't realize we were dealing with a diva here!” yizhuo jumps in, her voice light and cheerful as she shimmies her thin jacket over her shoulders. “relax, jimin. you’re going to burn yourself out. we have time before any of it matters.”

jimin scowls playfully but the laughter helps buoy her spirits. “you’re all just lucky i didn’t throw something at you,” she retorts with mock irritation.

“seriously though, don’t stress too much,” aeri advises, her expression more earnest now. “we have plenty of time before recordings. you don’t want to wear yourself out before we even get to the fun part!”

they all know how much it means to her—the thrill of performing together, the rush of being in front of their fans, the electricity in the air during their concerts. but right now, it’s hard to remember that. right now, it’s just the empty pages and the untamed notes swirling in her mind.

as the three of them discuss dinner plans, jimin shifts her gaze back to her notebook. the messy letters seem to mock her. she stares at the crossed-out lines, the hints of torn pages—a chaotic representation of her tangled thoughts. then she hears the unmistakable sound of jackets being zipped up, and her heart beats faster.

“what are you doing?” jimin asks, a hint of desperation threading through her tone as her eyes dart between them.

"we’re going out for dinner! we can’t just live on snacks while we’re working in the studio," yizhuo said, rolling her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing.

“we’re off to grab something to eat. something good, and then we’ll come back and keep working,” aeri ads, and you can see the kindness shining in her eyes. “you need a break, jimin. fresh air and a good meal might be just what you need.”

jimin watches as they exchange conspiratorial glances. just then, her eyes drift across the room and land on you, nestled comfortably in the corner of the couch. you haven’t moved to grab your coat despite the playful teasing. you’re her bandmate, the composer who has been behind the production of all the band’s musical hits, and the group’s guitarist—a presence that sends both comfort and confusion coursing through her.

your brow is furrowed slightly as you focus on your guitar. the twilight light reflects in your eyes, making it impossible for jimin to ignore the way her heart leaps just at the sight of you. there is something captivating, magnetic, in the way you lose yourself in the music, translating emotions into notes as you’ve always done.

and that’s the problem. over time, that admiration has turned into something else—something more profound. a crush that runs deeper than a passing fling or a drunken kiss. it’s the kind of affection that makes her chest ache when you smile, the kind that sets her pulse racing whenever you laugh.

“hey, you coming with us?” minjeong asks, breaking her reverie.

you look up from your guitar, a faint smile revealing a tenderness that tugs at jimin’s heartstrings. “i’ve got a few more things to work on, so I’ll stay here for now,” you say, your voice low and soothing.

jimin feels a rush of disappointment. she wants to invite you to join them, to share a meal and a moment outside this studio bubble that has kept them all locked in a creative frenzy.

“are you sure?” she asks, an urge swallowing her hesitation. “we could really use more brains. i mean, the sky might just help us to stir some creativity, right? plus, i’ve decided to try a new place that serves the best pasta in town!”

you chuckle softly, a sound she could listen to forever. “pasta sounds good, but i really need to sort out these lyrics before i can think of anything else.” your eyes dart back to the guitar strings in a way that makes her want to scream in frustration.

she watches you for a moment, the weight of her feelings hovering between them. the unspoken connection thickens in the air, but it’s the fog of uncertainty that keeps her immobile. how would you react if she confessed that her admiration had blossomed into something stronger? that every fleeting touch during practice ignited sparks that lingered for far too long?

“alright then, we’ll be back soon,” aeri interjects, clapping her hands together. “when we come back, you better be done with that song, or i’ll be taking that guitar from you!”

as the door swings shut behind them, silence envelops the room, leaving you alone with the sound of the rain trickling against the window, the storm still raging outside.

and then—there it is—this longing that has previously felt muted begins to pulse stronger. jimin's focus on her songs often distracts her from what lies just beneath the surface, a connection built on years of shared laughter, tears, and unspoken words. watching her struggle, you decide to take a risk, to bridge the gap widening between you both.

you rise from the couch, guitar in hand, and move toward her desk. the sight of the crumpled notes makes your heart ache for her, knowing she isn’t just creating music; she’s trying to carve out her place in the world.

jimin rubs her forehead and sighs, an audible sound of frustration escaping her lips. the tension in the room grows thicker; the air feels electric, charged with unspoken words and lingering glances.

“can't seem to get the right words out,” she mutters, her pen tapping against the page in irritation. you’ve been cooped up in this studio all afternoon, trying to piece together something worthwhile for the next album, but every sentence that flows from her pen seems to vanish into the void of her mind.

“ugh, i can’t think of anything!” she finally exclaims, tossing the pencil aside in frustration. it clatters to the floor, breaking the spell of quiet. leaning back on the chair, she tilts her head, exposing her delicate neck. the curve of her jaw catches the light just so, and for a moment, you forget about the music.

“why not try writing something about desire?” you suggest, your voice steady despite the flutter that ignites in your chest. it’s an idea that’s been bubbling in your mind since the last time you two shared that knowing glance, that electric chemistry lurking just under the surface. “you know, something forbidden?”

“desire…” she repeats, rolling the word across her tongue like a sweet melody. “that could be something.”

you nod, emboldened by the thought of igniting that spark. “yeah. something raw, something real—like secrets we keep or...”

“or that lingering touch we dare not explore?” jimin finishes for you, her gaze piercing through the dim light. there's a challenging tone in her voice, teasing and serious all at once, stirring something primal inside you.

“exactly,” you say, your heart pounding in rhythm with the notes you play. the tempo quickens, matching the beat of your thoughts. you’re both living in a world of unspoken possibilities, and suddenly, it feels like the walls of the studio are closing in, trapping you in this moment.

you set your guitar aside, the faint sound of strings vibrating mingling with the quietness of the room. the soft sound echoes like a heartbeat between you, creating a momentary pause where the world outside fades away.

“what do you know about desire?” she challenges playfully, a teasing smile breaking her earlier frustration. it’s a question that feels loaded as your chest tightens; you’ve known her long enough to recognize the weight behind her words. you can tell she’s not merely asking about the general concept.

“oh, i know a thing or two,” you reply, forcing a chuckle, though the truth is that you’re acutely aware of your own frustrations—of the yearning that’s been building each time you share a moment with her. each chord you strum, every late-night practice, has only made you more aware of how intoxicating she is, how your affection for her swells when you least expect it.

“like what?” she asks, leaning back the chair, her body subconsciously inching closer as if drawn to you. the light dimming, stripping away the outside world, leaves only the two of you.

you shrug, trying to mask the magnetic pull you feel toward her. “desire is…” you start, and the words spill forth unbidden. “it’s wanting something that feels out of reach, something you can’t have. it stirs up excitement and fear all at once.”

you take a breath and lean forward, resting the guitar on your knee, your fingers practically itching for more than just strings. “what if we wrote a song about—” you hesitate, the weight of your words anchoring the air around you, “—about the tension between... two people who want more than what they’re allowed to have?”

jimin's eyes shine with a spark that mirrors your own feelings. “you mean like us?” her voice is barely above a whisper, the question hanging uncomfortably yet intoxicatingly between you.

a pulse of vulnerability courses through your veins, and you search her face for signs, for permission, for something you hope desperately isn’t just a figment of your imagination. “maybe,” you manage, your throat dry as sand.

with a slight tilt of her head, jimin's expression morphs, shifting from playful to something softer, more sincere. “what if...” she trails off, glancing down at her notebook, biting her lip. “what if we expressed that desire? what if we were brave enough to put it into words?”

the silence stretches, thick with anticipation. you both know the unvoiced truth as well as you know every chord on your guitar. you’re no longer just bandmates; you’re two souls on the precipice of deeper connection, caught between friendship and something intoxicatingly new, dangerously thrilling.

“then we should be brave,” you say softly, inching closer on the carpet. the air thickens, charged with an energy you can almost taste. “just like the music we create.”

the silence that follows is charged, both of you holding your breath while the world spins outside your bubble. you can’t help but notice how her gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, a magnetic pull mirrored in your own gaze as you take in every feature that makes her jimin—her tousled hair, the glint of determination in her eyes, those lips that seem to provoke a longing you didn’t know was possible.

you lean forward instinctively, drawn like gravity. “what if we…” you murmur, but you don’t quite finish the sentence. instead, your heart races ahead of your mind, and you find yourself inching closer, the distance collapsing between you.

just then, jimin's breath quickens; she takes a sharp inhale that slices through the electrically charged atmosphere. her eyes widen a fraction, and in her gaze, you see an invitation strung between confusion and that intoxicating desire.

slowly, jimin leans forward, eyes locking onto yours. there’s a shift in the atmosphere, an understanding that dances in the silence—an unbreakable thread tethering you to this moment. and then, in a heartbeat, the distance collapses.

your lips meet, tentative and ignited by the electricity pulsing between you. the kiss is soft at first, exploratory, as if you are both testing the waters of this new territory. it’s warm and lingering, sending shockwaves through your body. there’s a hunger, a desperate need to explore the intimacy that’s always been lurking beneath the surface of your friendship.

as you deepen the kiss, time seems to lose all meaning. the world outside the studio fades away; it’s just you and jimin—everything you’ve ever wanted. every secret glance shared during practice, every lingering touch of fingers in an accidental brush, all the pent-up emotions spill over. her hands find their way to your hair as yours cradle her face, and the kiss transforms, blooming into something fierce and intoxicating.

the kiss feels forbidden, electric—a culmination of all the moments you’ve shared, the chemistry that had always clouded your interactions. everything that had remained unspoken now dances into the open, painting the walls of the studio with a vivid hue of realization.

moments stretch into infinity, lost in the rhythm of each other’s breathing and the distant echo of the life outside the studio. when you finally pull away, foreheads resting together, both of you are breathless, hearts racing as you hold onto this fragile moment of truth.

“wow,” she breathes, laughter bubbling at the edges of her words. there’s a mix of disbelief and wonder in her gaze, and you can’t help but smile.

“i guess that’s one way to write a song about desire,” you murmur, teasing as you catch your breath.

jimin chuckles, her cheeks flushed, and for a moment, the weight of the world falls away, leaving only lightness and possibility. “let’s make it a good one then,” she agrees, eyes sparkling, and you both know that this is just the beginning.

as you sink back into the rhythm ,,,,,,,of creativity, the lines of your collaboration shift and blend. this time, though, it’s filled with a beautiful new tension, a music born from uncharted desires that will carry you through the creation of a masterpiece—together. and maybe, just maybe, what started in this studio would reverberate far beyond the notes, echoing through the very hearts of your songs to come.

[fellominaarcher]

you belong to me — stripper!Karina x fem!reader

⤷ stripper!karina x g!p fem!reader

⤷ m.list | next

⤷ trigger warning: smut (minors dni) adult content, p in v (unprotected), violence, strip club (?).

⤷ note: this shit is terrible and this is my first gp smut :/

That’s the problem. Y/N is a frequent visitor at this elite strip club. What started as an innocent getaway out of curiosity about the whole concept of a strip club had led her to meeting Yoo Jimin or as she goes by on stage, Karina.

Her stage name.

If she were to count, this would be her ninth visit in two months. That’s quite frequent, even for a regular customer at this club. In fact, she had spent the most money here recently. Entrance fees. Drinks. Snacks. Strippers.

But that’s not a problem for the current vice president of a certain corporation.

Until a certain dark-eyed dancer with a mean expression — a well-known performer here who attracts the most customers — entered the picture. Also the co-owner of Hellfire Club, she had successfully seduced and captivated the usually quiet Y/N.

“Hey!” a man, more specifically, a male waiter at the club — called out. “You again! Eyeing Karina again?” he teased as he took a seat next to her at the bar.

Y/N shot him a side glare, letting out a soft groan, a little infuriated by the sudden interruption of her little moment. She continued sipping her cold whiskey.

The waiter’s eyes followed Y/N’s gaze to where it was glued, Karina. His boss. One of the highest-ranking dancers at Hellfire. He hummed knowingly. “Just ask her out. You drive her home sometimes, and sometimes she even takes you into her room,” he chirped, offering his slightly unwanted opinion.

“My boss is gorgeous. I don’t blame you,” he added.

Still no response from Y/N.

Yes, there are rooms above the strip club. Private rooms for the highest-ranking strippers to entertain customers they’re interested in — for private performances and more.

“I’m just a customer. It’s delusional to think that a stripper might be into you just because of how often you come here,” Y/N finally spoke, taking another sip of whiskey. Good thing she’s a strong drinker.

Rarely drunk. Always in control. But when it comes to her nights with Karina, she’s drunk and weak, knees wobbling at the touch of her hands. The feeling of Jimin’s body.

It’s addictive, really. In fact, Y/N and Karina are almost like friends now, sharing bits of their personal lives and daily routines. They’ve even had lunch together twice after unexpectedly bumping into each other on the street. Y/N found it entertaining and surprisingly easy to talk to Karina.

Sometimes, she hoped Karina felt the same, that their conversations were more than just casual small talk, that Karina found it just as comforting and effortless as she did.

Most of Y/N’s nights at Hellfire were filled with sinful whispers and breathless moans shared with Karina, indulging in carnal needs that translated into physical desires neither of them could resist.

The male waiter scoffed at Y/N’s earlier words. “I’m just saying. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry her right away,” he teased. Y/N fell silent because, as irritating as he was, he wasn’t wrong.

Her gaze drifted back to Karina, and her jaw clenched, brows knitting together. It was a sight she wasn’t expecting and certainly not one she wanted to see.

Karina was sitting at another table with another regular, Juyeon, the chaebol guy. The waiter, noticing Y/N’s change in expression, leaned closer. “Oh, that’s Juyeon. He’s been coming in a lot these past few weeks,” he informed her as she leaned against the bar, eyes locked on the scene before her.

Karina hadn’t noticed Y/N had arrived to pick her up for the night. She was too busy leaning in to hear Juyeon’s words over the heavy bass pounding against the club’s walls and Y/N’s heart.

Juyeon said something funny, making Karina chuckle softly, the kind of laugh that wasn’t forced. The kind that made her eyes sparkle. The kind that made Y/N’s chest tighten.

“Why not? I like dad jokes too,” Juyeon grinned, earning a small smile from Karina.

She nodded slightly, scooting a bit away from him. It was midnight, and all Karina wanted was to leave the club, go home, and rest. But Juyeon’s presence made that harder. He had shown interest in her recently, and tonight was no different.

A few older men, the usual types with gold bands around their fingers and families waiting for them at home—beckoned for Karina to continue dancing for them. She was too exhausted to entertain their sleazy smiles and wandering eyes tonight.

Juyeon, however, wasn’t giving up. He wanted to see Karina on the pole, to have her undivided attention even if it meant outspending everyone else just to get her alone in a private room.

“This is hard to watch,” Y/N muttered, downing the rest of her whiskey in one swift gulp.

Karina, on the other hand, felt suffocated. She needed to escape, even if this was her own club. The co-owner, barely sincere in her performances anymore, was growing weary of showing herself off to men who didn’t really see her.

“Please, Karina, just for a ni—” Juyeon reached out, grasping her wrist.

A loud crash shattered the tension in the room.

Gasps echoed through the club, the DJ immediately cutting the music, leaving behind an awkward silence punctuated by the faint scratch of the halted track.

Karina’s eyes widened, both hands covering her mouth in shock.

Juyeon dropped to his knees with a heavy thud, clutching his head tightly as blood trickled down his face.

Y/N stood over him, her hand still clenched from smashing her whiskey glass against his head. Thin beads of sweat lined her hairline as she gritted her teeth, glaring down at him.

This was her territory.

Karina stared at Y/N, utterly stunned. Relief flickered within her, someone had come to her rescue. But she wasn’t expecting this. Not here. Not in her club.

“Don’t you ever dare look at her again,” Y/N stated coldly, her voice laced with quiet fury. She wanted to blame it on the whiskey, maybe it was the Laphroaig clouding her judgment but deep down, she knew better.

This wasn’t the alcohol talking.

This was possession.

Juyeon swayed, his vision blurring as he groaned in pain. Blood dripped sluggishly down his face, and he gritted his teeth, trying to regain his balance. Karina's eyes flickered between him and Y/N before she finally exhaled the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.

She didn't care about Juyeon. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Without hesitation, she grabbed Y/N’s wrist and pulled her away. The murmuring crowd had already begun to close in, eager to watch the chaos unfold, but Karina had no intention of cleaning up Y/N’s mess. Let someone else deal with it.

Y/N let herself be dragged, though Karina’s grip was tighter than necessary—possessive, almost. They weaved through the dimly lit hallways of Hellfire Club, the heavy bass of the music still thudding in the distance. The scent of whiskey, sweat, and expensive perfume clung to the air, but all Y/N could focus on was the heat of Karina’s hand on her skin.

The moment they reached the private room, Karina shoved the door open and slammed it shut behind them. The muffled echoes of the club faded into silence.

Then she yanked Y/N’s hand from her own grasp.

“That was uncalled for! Why’d you do that?” Karina’s voice was sharp, a mix of frustration and something else, something raw, something shaken.

Y/N stood tall, but her gaze stayed on the floor. Her heart was still hammering against her ribs, her breathing uneven. What the hell had she just done?

She hadn’t planned to smash that glass against Juyeon’s head. It wasn’t premeditated. It wasn’t logical. It was instinct.

Because the moment she saw Karina laughing with someone else, leaning in close, touching someone who wasn’t her, something inside her snapped.

"I hope you're not expecting me to apologize," Y/N finally said, lifting her head to meet Karina’s eyes. Her voice was low, rough, laced with something dangerous. "I don’t think I did anything wrong at all."

Karina’s breath hitched.

The way Y/N was looking at her, it wasn’t just anger. It wasn’t just jealousy. It was darker than that, deeper than that. Possession. A claim, unspoken yet impossible to ignore.

And the worst part?

Karina wasn’t sure if she hated it.

Her own gaze softened, but the conflict still lingered in her chest. Y/N had come to her defense. Protected her. But the violence—it wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t supposed to be like that.

Letting out a quiet sigh, she took a step forward, closing the space between them.

“Are you… okay?” Karina murmured, her voice gentler now.

Her fingers ghosted toward the back of Y/N’s head, hesitant, searching.

Y/N didn’t move. She didn’t flinch.

But her dark eyes never left Karina’s.

"I fucking hate anyone who touches what's mine." It's a matter of statement, stated by Y/N.

The tension between them crackled like fire in the dimly lit room, burning too hot, too fast, and neither of them could stop it now.

She just stood there, letting Karina’s fingertips barely ghost over her scalp, her body thrumming with something electric.

Without thinking properly, Y/N tugged Karina's closer into her by her arm and her gaze drifted down on Karina's eyes then kissable pinkish lips. Y/N gulped at the closeness between them and she took a deep breath as she grew needy for the beautiful woman.

Y/N leaned in and capturing Karina's lips in a deep yet gentle kiss. She could taste the lingering sweetness from Karina's pinkish gloss on her tongue and she pulled back carefully, her eyes opening again as she bored into Karina's eyes.

Karina melted into the kiss, she didn't hate that and she was kinda looking forward to fuck Y/N again whenever Y/N decided to be a customer again in Hellfire Club.

"Oh baby, you're in a big trouble," Karina whispered and she was fighting the smile that was threatening to form, "Seeing you like that was hot, though." She placed her hands on Y/N's chest and pushed Y/N to the bed.

Karina crawled in the bed right after pushing the taller woman, she got on top of Y/N and straddled her hips then looping her arms around Y/N's neck and her lips immediately pointed their way towards Y/N's lips.

Kissing again and invading Y/N's mouth as her wet tongue pushed into so she could make the kiss all better. More steamy.

Y/N was happy to be here and she had been looking forward to spend the night with Karina whether it is driving the co-owner of Hellfire Club to home or spending the night between Karina's legs. The latter is so much better.

Y/N broke the kiss because she can't no longer hold the grin and she gazed into Jimin's half lidded eyes and her hands roaming over Karina's curves, "I don't like saying sorry but if I have to this is how I'll say 'sorry', Karina," Y/N spoke, her voice is almost a whisper.

Karina smirked as she listened to Y/N's and she let out a soft chuckle, "Sounds toxic. If you fight with your girlfriend and you'll say sorry through intimacy?" Karina questioned Y/N in a teasing manner and leaned in again to give a quick peck.

"Manipulative." Karina added.

Y/N captured Karina's mouth again, kissing her deeply as she began to strip off her skimpy outfit. Y/N tossed the pieces aside carelessly, her hands eager to explore every inch of Karina's silky skin. She cupped Karina's breasts, thumbing her nipples until they pebbled under her touch.

Karina gasped into the kiss, arching into Y/N's hands. "Mmm, that feels good. But you're wearing too many clothes."

Y/N chuckled, nipping at Karina's bottom lip. "Let me take care of that for you, gorgeous."

She reached for the buttons of her own shirt, fumbling slightly in her haste to be naked with Karina. Once she had shed her shirt, she tugged off her pants and underwear, baring herself fully to Karina's heated gaze.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," Karina breathed, her eyes roaming over Y/N's body.

Y/N's cock twitched at the praise, already hard and aching for Karina's touch. She stepped closer, pressing her body against Karina's as she kissed a trail down her neck and chest. She lavished attention on Karina's breasts, suckling and licking until Karina was writhing with need.

Karina tangled her fingers in Y/N's hair, holding her close as she moaned her pleasure. "Please, Y/N. I need you."

Y/N knew exactly what Karina needed. She slid her hand between Karina's thighs, stroking her wet folds and teasing her clit. Karina spread her legs wider, giving Y/N better access.

"Yes, just like that," Karina panted, her hips rolling into Y/N's touch. "Make me come, baby. I want to feel good for you."

Y/N obliged, curling her fingers inside Karina's tight channel as she sucked hard on her nipple. Karina cried out, her body tensing and shaking as she came hard around Y/N's fingers.

As Karina came down from her high, Y/N gentled her touches, stroking and petting her soft skin. She peppered kisses along Karina's body as she murmured words of possessiveness.

Karina looked up at her with hazy eyes, a lazy smile on her face. "That was amazing. But I think it's time for round two."

Y/N grinned, feeling her cock throb in anticipation. "Whatever you want, baby. I'm all yours." said Y/N and this woman made her feel weak already.

Karina reached down, wrapping her hand around Y/N's shaft and giving it a firm stroke. Y/N groaned, pushing into her grip. "Fuck, that feels so good." It feels so good and she threw her head back.

Karina pumped her hand along Y/N's length, teasing the tip with her thumb. "I love your cock, Y/N. I want you to cum for me." Karina teased Y/N seductively.

Y/N thrust into Karina's hand, desperate for more friction. "It's all for you, baby. I only get hard for you."

Karina guided Y/N to the bed, pushing her down onto the mattress. She straddled Y/N's hips, rubbing her wet folds along Y/N's thick cock. "I need you inside me, Y/N. I need to feel you fill me up." Karina's voice is softer and quivering now.

Y/N reached between them, positioning her cock at Karina's entrance. She rubbed the tip along Karina's slick folds, teasing them both. "Are you ready for me, baby? I'm going to make you feel so good." There's a bit of push and pull dynamic between them.

Karina nodded, sinking down onto Y/N's cock with a low moan. "Oh fuck, yes. You feel so good inside me." She moaned out and Y/N thought it was one of the sexiest sound to hear.

Y/N gripped Karina's hips, thrusting up into her tight heat as Karina rode her. They moved together in a steady rhythm, bodies glistening with sweat as they lost themselves in the pleasure.

"Fuck, that feel so good," Y/N panted, her hands roaming over Karina's body. "You're mine, Karina. Only mine."

Karina leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips in a searing kiss. "Yes, all yours," she breathed against Y/N's mouth. "Now make me come on your big, beautiful cock."

Y/N did as she was told, pounding into Karina with renewed vigor. She changed the angle of her hips, hitting that special spot inside Karina that made her see stars.

"Yes, right there," Karina cried out, her walls clenching around Y/N's shaft. "Fuck, I'm going to come!" Y/N exclaimed in pleasure.

Y/N felt her own release building, her body tensing as Karina rode her harder and faster. They came together, bodies shaking and crying out each other's names as they found their pleasure.

Afterwards, they lay tangled together on the bed, basking in the afterglow of their intense sex. Y/N held Karina close, pressing soft kisses to her hair.

Karina smiled against Y/N's chest, snuggling closer. "I think I need to have more taste of you. I don't even allow my regular customers to be around me this often, you know." Karina stated as a matter of fact.

Y/N chuckled and both of them are taking a few minutes to recuperate before they have to leave this place. Y/N and Karina both knew that this is never going to be the last time for them to meetup like this.

m.list | next

[fioredeciliego]

How to Kidnap a Mafia Boss: A Step by Step Guide - Karina x Fem!Reader

13K Words

Now, her night had taken a turn for the worse. Nina’s ex-boyfriend, who had the temperament of a rabid raccoon, had shown up uninvited, creating a scene that had them fleeing the club like fugitives.

“Nina, you owe me for this,” Y/N muttered under her breath, fumbling with her car keys as she fast-walked toward what she thought was her car. Her hands shook slightly as she unlocked the door. She was just grateful Nina had ditched the ex in time for her to make a clean getaway.

The parking garage was far too quiet, the kind of quiet that makes every sound—like the echo of her own footsteps—seem amplified and sinister. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, her paranoia fueled by the faint scuff of shoes against concrete somewhere behind her.

"Just get to the car, Y/N," she whispered, clutching her phone in one hand and her tiny purse in the other.

She glanced over her shoulder and swore she saw movement in the shadows. Her heartbeat spiked. Nope, nope, nope, she thought, practically throwing herself into the driver’s seat. She slammed the door shut and locked it, her breath coming out in shallow gasps.

Fumbling, she jammed the key into the ignition, and the engine roared to life. Without hesitation, she backed out of the space and sped toward the exit ramp, desperate to put as much distance as possible between her and the creepy parking garage.

As the cold night air seeped through a cracked window, she exhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing heart. "Okay, Y/N, you’re safe. It’s fine. Just head home and—"

A muffled groan cut through the air like a knife.

She froze, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror, but it was too dark to see much of anything.

Another groan, this time louder.

Y/N’s pulse thundered in her ears. Her mouth went dry as she slowly turned her head, half-expecting to find a horror movie monster or a deranged hitchhiker. Instead, her eyes landed on a figure slumped in the back seat—a woman with sharp, striking features, her arms bound tightly behind her back and a gag over her mouth.

Y/N’s scream tore through the car, shrill and panicked.

The woman jolted slightly, her eyes narrowing in annoyance rather than fear. She let out a muffled sound through the gag, which only made Y/N scream again.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! What—who—why—WHAT?!” Y/N shrieked, scrambling for her phone and nearly dropping it in her lap.

The woman in the back seat tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, her bound hands twitching slightly as if to say, Calm down.

“Calm down?! You’re tied up in my back seat! What is happening?!” Y/N babbled, her voice pitching higher with every word.

The woman let out another muffled groan, this one decidedly annoyed, and jerked her head toward the gag as if to say, Take it off.

Y/N shook her head wildly. “Oh, no, no, no. You could be some kind of psycho! What if this is a trap? What if you’re a mob boss or something?”

The woman rolled her eyes so hard Y/N swore she could hear it. She let out a string of muffled sounds that were probably curses, her gaze sharp and exasperated.

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to process the surreal situation. She looked from the woman to the road ahead, realizing she was still idling at the bottom of the parking ramp. She reached for the gear shift, her hands trembling.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself, “you’re going to pull over and figure this out. You’re not a criminal. You’re not involved in some weird mob thing. This is just... a misunderstanding.”

--

The city lights faded behind Y/N as she sped down a quiet back road, her mind a chaotic swirl of questions, expletives, and mounting panic.

“What the hell do I do? What do I do?” she muttered, glancing nervously at the woman in the back seat. The woman—still bound and gagged—looked more annoyed than terrified, her sharp eyes tracking Y/N like a hawk.

Y/N’s car sputtered to a stop on the shoulder of the road. She threw it into park and buried her face in her hands, trying to suppress the urge to scream again. She failed miserably.

“Okay, okay, let’s just... think this through,” she said aloud, more to herself than to her mysterious passenger. She turned in her seat, facing the woman.

“So,” she began, her voice wavering, “who... who are you? And why are you tied up? Blink once if you’re in danger. Blink twice if—”

The woman blinked. Once.

“Oh god.” Y/N clutched her chest, the reality of her situation sinking in. “Are you serious right now? Am I, like, an accessory to a crime? Did I just become an accomplice?!”

The woman’s exasperated groan brought Y/N back to the present. She motioned with her head toward the gag, her eyes practically screaming, Take it off, you idiot.

Y/N recoiled. “Oh no, you don’t! What if you’re, I don’t know, dangerous? You could be a ninja or... or an assassin!”

The woman’s expression darkened. She slumped against the seat and let out a muffled sigh that sounded suspiciously like Oh, for the love of...

Y/N’s guilt began to outweigh her paranoia. After all, the woman didn’t look like a ninja. And her sharp, tailored suit—now wrinkled and slightly torn—was more “CEO at a power brunch” than “trained killer.”

“Fine,” Y/N said with a reluctant sigh, reaching into the back seat. “But if you try anything funny, I’ll... I’ll—”

The woman’s raised eyebrow stopped her mid-sentence.

“Right, you’re tied up,” Y/N mumbled, her cheeks flushing.

She fumbled with the gag, finally pulling it free.

The woman coughed softly before licking her lips and fixing Y/N with a level stare. Then, with a voice that was calm, low, and laced with biting sarcasm, she said, “So, what’s your plan, kidnapper?”

Y/N froze. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” the woman replied, her tone far too casual for someone in her predicament. “You abducted me. What’s your next move? Ransom? Interrogation? A dramatic villain monologue?”

“I didn’t abduct you!” Y/N protested, her voice climbing. “I-I didn’t even know you were in the car! This is all... this is just one big misunderstanding!”

The woman’s lips twitched, a hint of amusement breaking through her otherwise unimpressed expression. “Sure. A misunderstanding. Totally normal to flee a parking garage with a bound woman in your back seat. Happens all the time.”

Y/N groaned, slumping forward until her forehead hit the steering wheel. “This cannot be my life right now.”

--

An hour later, they were sitting in a dimly lit room in the sketchiest motel Y/N could find. The neon sign outside flickered ominously, casting the word “VACAN_” in garish red light across the peeling wallpaper.

Jimin—she had introduced herself with a sly smile and zero context—sat at the rickety table, sipping tea she had somehow brewed with the motel’s ancient coffee maker. She looked completely at ease, as if she weren’t a recently liberated captive but rather a guest at a particularly questionable Airbnb.

Meanwhile, Y/N paced the room, her phone clutched in one hand as she frantically Googled things like what to do when you accidentally kidnap someone and is returning a kidnapped person illegal?

“You’re going to wear a hole in that carpet,” Jimin remarked, her tone light.

“Not helping!” Y/N shot back, her voice cracking under the weight of her growing hysteria. “I don’t even know how I got into this mess! One minute I’m running from Nina’s psycho ex, and the next... you! In my car! What were you even doing there?!”

Jimin tilted her head, her dark eyes glittering with mischief. “Would you believe me if I said I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

Y/N stopped pacing and leveled her with a look. “No. No, I would not.”

“Smart girl.” Jimin smirked, taking another sip of tea.

Y/N groaned and flopped onto the bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. “I just want my normal, boring life back.”

“Boring, huh?” Jimin leaned back in her chair, studying Y/N like she was some fascinating puzzle. “Maybe this is fate. You needed a little excitement, and I needed... well, a ride, apparently.”

“Excitement?” Y/N sat up, incredulous. “This is not excitement. This is a nightmare! I’m pretty sure I’m committing multiple felonies right now.”

Jimin laughed softly, the sound warm and unexpectedly charming. “Relax, Y/N. I won’t tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“That’s not comforting!” Y/N buried her face in her hands.

Jimin’s smile widened, and for the first time that night, there was a flicker of genuine softness in her expression. “You’re kind of funny, you know that?”

Y/N peeked at her through her fingers. “Funny? Seriously?”

Jimin shrugged. “A little. I mean, you’re clearly in over your head, but you’re trying. It’s... endearing.”

Y/N groaned again, flopping back onto the bed. “Kill me now.”

“No need for dramatics,” Jimin said with a chuckle, standing and stretching. “You’ve already got a mafia boss in your motel room. Isn’t that enough excitement for one night?”

Y/N’s head snapped up. “Mafia boss?! Wait, you’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

But Jimin didn’t answer. She just smiled, enigmatic and infuriating, and turned back to her tea.

Y/N sank back against the pillows, her mind spinning. Whatever this was, it was far from over.

--

The motel room was as depressing as a B-movie horror set. The peeling wallpaper reeked of mildew, the flickering ceiling light buzzed ominously, and the lone bed looked like it had seen one too many questionable nights. Y/N, still in a full state of panic, paced back and forth while Jimin lounged on the creaky chair by the window.

“You’re hiding from people who work for me, by the way,” Jimin remarked, scrolling lazily through her phone. “In this dump. Bold strategy.”

Y/N froze mid-step, turning to glare at her unwelcome passenger. “Could you, like, not right now? I’m trying to figure out how to fix this!”

Jimin’s gaze flicked up from her phone, one elegant eyebrow arching. “Fix it? Sweetheart, you’ve kidnapped the wrong person. This is less ‘fixable’ and more... what’s the word? Oh, right—impossible.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” Y/N snapped, clutching her phone in a death grip.

“Touchy,” Jimin mused, her lips curving into a small smirk. “But seriously, if you’re going to go on the run, maybe aim for somewhere a bit... nicer? This place screams ‘criminal on the lam.’” She gestured around the room, her expression faintly disgusted.

Y/N groaned, throwing herself onto the edge of the bed and burying her face in her hands. “Why is this happening to me? I didn’t even mean to kidnap anyone!” She peeked through her fingers, narrowing her eyes at Jimin. “And you seem weirdly okay with this.”

Jimin shrugged, tucking her phone into her pocket. “Not my first rodeo.”

“What does that even mean?” Y/N asked, her voice pitching higher in disbelief.

Before Jimin could answer, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, sighed, and tapped out a quick reply.

“Are you seriously texting right now?” Y/N asked, incredulous. “Who are you even talking to?”

“Oh, just a couple of people who are probably freaking out because I’ve been kidnapped.” Jimin’s voice was laced with amusement, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Wait, WHAT?!” Y/N shot up, panic written all over her face. “You’re telling people where we are? Are you trying to get me arrested—or worse?!”

Jimin laughed, a sound so carefree it felt wildly out of place in their current situation. “Relax, I’m not giving them our location. I’m just telling them I’m alive. Gotta keep my people loyal, you know?”

Y/N flopped back onto the bed, muttering to herself. “I’m so dead. This is how I die. In a disgusting motel with a mafia boss who probably thinks this is all a joke.”

Jimin grinned. “It kind of is, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not!” Y/N shot back, her voice cracking. “This is serious! I have no idea how to deal with... with this!” She gestured wildly in Jimin’s direction.

Jimin leaned back in her chair, propping her feet up on the rickety table. “Here’s an idea: stop panicking. Order some food. Maybe a drink. It’s not like you can do much else tonight.”

Y/N stared at her, aghast. “Food? You want to order food? You’re a hostage!”

Jimin gave her a pitying look. “Honey, you’re the one who took me. You’re not exactly following the hostage manual either. Might as well make the best of it.”

Before Y/N could protest further, Jimin picked up the room phone and dialed.

“Wait, are you seriously calling room service?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with both disbelief and awe.

Jimin winked. “Yep. Can’t think on an empty stomach.”

--

Twenty minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. Y/N jumped to her feet, her heart pounding. “What if it’s the police? Or... or your mafia people?!”

Jimin rolled her eyes. “It’s room service. Chill.”

Y/N crept toward the door and peeked through the peephole. Sure enough, it was just a bored-looking teenager in a rumpled motel uniform holding a tray of food.

She opened the door just enough to grab the tray, then slammed it shut and turned to Jimin. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, setting the tray down.

“Thank you,” Jimin said with a grin, grabbing a sandwich and taking a bite.

Y/N watched her, torn between frustration and begrudging admiration for how unfazed Jimin was by... well, everything.

“Do you, like, care that you’ve been kidnapped?” Y/N finally asked, sitting back down on the bed.

Jimin considered this as she chewed, then swallowed. “Not really. You seem harmless, and this is more entertaining than most of my meetings.”

Y/N gaped at her. “Meetings?”

Jimin smirked. “What, you think mafia bosses just sit around counting money and making threats all day? We have schedules, sweetheart. Agendas. Conference calls.”

Y/N blinked. “You’re joking.”

“Am I?” Jimin teased, her tone maddeningly vague.

Y/N groaned, flopping onto the bed again. “I give up. You’re insane.”

“And you,” Jimin said, pointing at her with the remains of her sandwich, “are in way over your head. But hey, at least the food’s decent.”

Y/N didn’t reply, opting instead to stare at the ceiling and wonder, for the hundredth time, how her life had spiraled so wildly out of control.

In the corner, Jimin leaned back in her chair, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

--

The early morning sunlight filtered through the grimy motel blinds, but Y/N hadn’t slept a wink. She sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, staring at Jimin, who was peacefully sprawled out in the lone chair, arms crossed and head tilted back as she napped.

“How is she this calm?” Y/N muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She clutched her phone, debating what to do. Call the cops? Would they even believe her? “Hi, yes, I accidentally kidnapped a mafia boss, can you come pick her up?” Yeah, no.

Jimin stirred, a faint smile playing on her lips as she stretched. “You’re a loud thinker, you know that?” she murmured without opening her eyes.

Y/N jumped. “How are you so chill right now? Aren’t you supposed to be mad? Or scared? Or... I don’t know, plotting your revenge?”

Jimin opened one eye lazily. “Mad? No. Scared? Not really. Revenge?” She chuckled, sitting up and fixing Y/N with a playful smirk. “Too much effort. Besides, this whole thing is kind of hilarious.”

Y/N gawked at her. “Hilarious? I could go to prison for this!”

“Only if you get caught,” Jimin replied, brushing invisible lint off her sleeve.

Before Y/N could respond, a low rumble caught her attention. She froze, her ears straining.

“What was that?” she whispered.

Jimin’s expression didn’t change, but her eyes flicked toward the window. “Oh, that? Probably my people.”

Y/N shot to her feet, her heart pounding. “Your people?!” She darted to the window and peeked through the blinds. Sure enough, three black SUVs were pulling into the parking lot, their dark-tinted windows making them look even more menacing.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Y/N chanted, pacing in a tight circle. “They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me, and it’s all your fault!”

Jimin stood, stretching leisurely. “My fault? You’re the one who kidnapped me, remember?”

Y/N whirled on her, panic in her eyes. “What do we do? What do I do? Do I hide? Do I run? Do I—”

“You do nothing,” Jimin interrupted smoothly. She walked to the door, cracking her neck like she was preparing for a morning jog.

“What do you mean, nothing? They’re probably armed! They’re going to drag me out of here and—and—”

“Relax.” Jimin turned the lock on the door and opened it wide, stepping out onto the small concrete stoop.

“Relax?! You want me to relax?!” Y/N hissed, peeking out from behind her.

The SUVs parked in a neat row, and the doors swung open in unison. Out stepped several sharply dressed men and women, their expressions grim as they approached.

“Boss,” one of them said, inclining his head respectfully. “Are you okay? We’ve been looking for you all night.”

Jimin crossed her arms and gave them a lazy smile. “I’m fine. Just a minor detour.”

The man’s eyes flicked to Y/N, who was still half-hiding behind the doorframe. His expression darkened. “Is this the... person responsible for your detour?”

Y/N let out a strangled squeak, shrinking back. “I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!”

The man took a step toward her, but Jimin held up a hand. “Stand down,” she said, her voice calm but commanding.

“But, boss—”

“Stand. Down.”

The man hesitated before nodding and stepping back, though his glare toward Y/N didn’t soften.

Y/N blinked, peeking out fully now. “Wait, you’re not going to...?” She mimed a vague slicing motion across her neck.

Jimin turned to her, her grin wicked. “Not today.”

“Why not?!” Y/N blurted before she could stop herself.

Jimin stepped closer, leaning in until her face was just inches from Y/N’s. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief as she said softly, “Because this is way too entertaining.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Entertaining?! That’s why you’re not letting them... them—”

“Whack you?” Jimin supplied helpfully.

“Yes!”

Jimin laughed, turning back to her people. “We’ll be leaving soon. Go make yourselves useful.”

The group nodded and retreated back to the SUVs, though not without a few lingering glances at Y/N, who was still frozen in place.

Jimin turned back to her, hands on her hips. “See? All under control.”

Y/N gaped at her. “You’re insane.”

Jimin grinned. “Took you this long to figure that out?”

--

The silence in the car was thick, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional squeak of the windshield wipers. Y/N kept her focus glued to the winding road ahead, her fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The events of the last 24 hours were a chaotic blur, but somehow, her current predicament felt even more surreal.

Beside her, Jimin reclined in the passenger seat with an air of complete relaxation. She’d kicked off her expensive heels and propped one foot on the dashboard, her other leg crossed lazily over her knee. She looked more like a co-pilot on a carefree road trip than a mafia boss who’d just been accidentally kidnapped.

"So, this is your grand escape plan?" Jimin’s voice broke the silence, smooth and laced with amusement.

Y/N shot her a side-eye glance. "What are you talking about?"

Jimin gestured vaguely at the car’s interior. "This—this charming rust bucket of yours. Bold choice for a getaway vehicle. Very… inconspicuous."

Y/N bristled, her grip on the wheel tightening. "It’s my car. Not all of us can afford bulletproof limousines and private jets, okay?"

Jimin tilted her head, smirking. "I wasn’t judging. It has character. Kind of like you."

"Gee, thanks," Y/N deadpanned, focusing on the road.

After a beat of silence, Jimin began tapping her fingers against the passenger window. "What’s with all the fast-food wrappers on the floor? Is this a mobile trash can or a car?"

Y/N gritted her teeth. "Excuse me for not having time to detail it before my accidental kidnapping."

"Touché," Jimin quipped, nodding with mock solemnity.

Y/N’s patience was wearing thin, but before she could snap, Jimin leaned forward and began fiddling with the ancient radio dials. Static crackled through the speakers.

"Don’t touch that!" Y/N swatted Jimin’s hand away, nearly swerving off the road in the process.

"Relax!" Jimin raised her hands in surrender, laughing. "You act like I was going to break it."

"It barely works as it is!" Y/N hissed, steadying the car.

Jimin leaned back in her seat, unbothered, and gave a long, exaggerated sigh. "Do you even have decent music in this thing, or is it just sad pop songs and static?"

"That’s it." Y/N glared at her. "New rule: no touching the radio. In fact, don’t touch anything."

Jimin smirked. "Kidnapper rules? That’s adorable."

"Adorable?" Y/N sputtered. "What about this is adorable?!"

Jimin shrugged, feigning innocence. "I’m just saying, you’re kind of terrible at this whole kidnapping thing. It’s almost endearing."

"Endearing?" Y/N echoed, incredulous. She yanked the wheel to make a turn, the car lurching slightly.

Jimin casually braced herself with one hand on the dashboard, the picture of calm. "Well, yeah. You’re panicking, floundering, and driving like you’re in a driver’s ed class. But you’re trying your best. It’s cute."

Y/N slapped a hand over her face. "This can’t be happening," she muttered to herself.

Jimin reached down and grabbed an open bag of chips from the console, inspecting the label. "Gas station snacks? Really? Do you ever eat anything that wasn’t fried in questionable oil?"

"Excuse me for not catering this little adventure!" Y/N snapped, snatching the chips away. "I’m a regular person, okay? Do mafia bosses usually have Yelp reviews for kidnappings?"

At that, Jimin burst into laughter—a real, genuine laugh that filled the small car. It caught Y/N off guard, and for a split second, she almost smiled. Almost.

"You’re funny," Jimin said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

"No, I’m panicking," Y/N corrected, glaring at the road.

Jimin waved her hand dismissively. "Same thing, really. But seriously, you’ve got to loosen up. It’s not like you’re in danger."

Y/N whipped her head around, eyes wide. "Not in danger?! You’re a mafia boss! There are probably a hundred people looking for you right now, and when they find me—"

"They’re not going to hurt you," Jimin interrupted calmly. "You’re with me. And besides…" She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "This is way too entertaining."

Y/N stared at her, speechless, before letting out a frustrated groan. "Unbelievable."

Jimin settled back into her seat, a satisfied smirk on her face.

For a while, the only sound in the car was the faint hum of the engine. Y/N’s irritation simmered as she focused on the road, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Sure enough, when she glanced over, Jimin was staring at her, her chin resting in her hand.

"What now?" Y/N demanded.

"Just wondering," Jimin mused, her tone playful, "what’s your next move, kidnapper?"

Y/N blinked, momentarily thrown off. She had no idea. She was completely out of her depth, and it must have shown on her face because Jimin’s smirk widened.

"Thought so," Jimin said with a chuckle.

"Can you stop talking for five minutes?" Y/N snapped.

"Depends," Jimin replied smoothly. "Do you have snacks that aren’t chips?"

Y/N groaned, gripping the wheel tighter. "I swear, you’re going to drive me insane before this is over."

"Challenge accepted," Jimin said brightly, popping a chip into her mouth with a grin that was equal parts infuriating and charming.

--

The neon sign of "Dottie’s Diner" flickered against the darkening sky, its hum faintly audible as Y/N begrudgingly parked the car.

“Happy now?” she muttered, turning to Jimin, who was already fixing her hair in the passenger-side mirror.

“Famished, actually,” Jimin replied with a grin, stepping out of the car as if she owned the place.

Y/N followed reluctantly, her nerves on edge as she scanned the small, homey diner. Booths lined the walls, filled with truckers and locals enjoying their meals under dim yellow lights. The smell of frying bacon and freshly baked pie lingered in the air, momentarily soothing Y/N's frazzled mind.

Jimin, however, walked in with the confidence of someone who had never been thrown into a dumpster fire of chaos. She slid into a booth by the window, gesturing for Y/N to join her.

“I’m not hungry,” Y/N grumbled, sitting down anyway.

“That’s cute,” Jimin said, waving a waitress over. “Two menus, please.”

The waitress, a middle-aged woman with a friendly smile, handed them menus. Jimin’s demeanor shifted instantly as she flashed the woman a dazzling smile.

“Hi, Dottie?” Jimin asked, glancing at the nametag.

“Yep, that’s me!” the waitress replied, beaming.

“Lovely diner you’ve got here,” Jimin said smoothly. “Feels like home. The kind of place where the food isn’t just cooked—it’s made with love.”

Dottie blushed, clearly charmed. “Well, you’re too sweet! What can I get for you?”

“I’ll take a cheeseburger, medium rare, with extra pickles, and… a slice of your famous apple pie for dessert,” Jimin said. She leaned in slightly, her voice conspiratorial. “I can tell it’s famous. Bet you make it yourself.”

Dottie laughed, waving a hand. “Oh, stop. You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Mission accomplished,” Jimin murmured with a wink, handing the menu back.

Y/N gawked at the scene, her mouth slightly ajar, as Dottie turned to her.

“And for you, hon?”

“Uh… grilled cheese and fries, I guess,” Y/N said, shooting Jimin a pointed look.

“Coming right up!”

--

The meal arrived quickly, and Y/N had to admit it was better than the gas station chips. Jimin seemed genuinely relaxed, savoring her burger with almost childlike enthusiasm.

“Okay, I’ll give you this,” Y/N admitted, stabbing a fry with her fork. “This is good.”

“See?” Jimin said around a mouthful of food. “I know how to pick ‘em.”

But the peace didn’t last long.

The bell over the door jingled, and Y/N glanced up to see a group of men entering the diner. They were dressed in dark jackets, their sharp gazes scanning the room until they landed on Jimin.

Y/N froze, her stomach plummeting. “Uh… friends of yours?”

Jimin’s face didn’t flinch, but her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Rivals,” she muttered under her breath.

“What do we do?” Y/N hissed.

Jimin casually wiped her hands on a napkin, leaning back in her seat. “We eat.”

“What—are you serious?!”

“Relax,” Jimin said, her tone calm but firm. “They’re not going to make a scene. Not here.”

But as the men approached their booth, Y/N could feel the tension crackling in the air. One of them, a burly man with a scar across his cheek, stopped just short of their table.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice smooth and mocking. “Yu Jimin. Didn’t expect to see you slumming it in a place like this.”

“Han,” Jimin said coolly, leaning back in her seat. “What a surprise. I’d offer you a fry, but I don’t like sharing.”

Han’s gaze shifted to Y/N, his smirk widening. “And who’s this? A new recruit? She doesn’t look like your type.”

“I’m not—” Y/N began, but Han cut her off.

“She’s cute,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension. “Bit out of your league, though.”

Y/N’s face flushed, though whether from embarrassment or anger, she couldn’t tell. She shot Jimin a nervous glance, but the mafia boss’s expression remained impassive, her fingers drumming lightly on the table.

“Leave her out of this, Han,” Jimin said, her voice low and edged with warning.

Han chuckled. “Touchy, aren’t we? You’re usually better at keeping your cool.”

“Don’t push me,” Jimin replied, her tone deadly calm.

Y/N, feeling cornered and frustrated, grabbed her plate of fries and, without thinking, flung it at Han’s chest.

The diner fell silent as everyone processed what had just happened. A fry slid down Han’s jacket, leaving a greasy trail in its wake.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jimin muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oops,” Y/N said weakly.

Han’s expression darkened, and he reached for Y/N, but Jimin was faster. She grabbed her burger and hurled it at his face.

“GO!” Jimin shouted, dragging Y/N out of the booth as chaos erupted around them.

Plates flew, ketchup bottles exploded, and the entire diner descended into a cacophony of shouting and clattering dishes. Y/N ducked as a slice of pie soared past her head, hitting the wall with a wet splat.

“This is all your fault!” Y/N yelled as she crouched behind the counter.

“You started it!” Jimin shot back, grabbing a chair and using it as a shield.

“You could’ve done something diplomatic!”

“Diplomacy doesn’t work on people like Han!”

Han’s men weren’t faring much better, slipping on spilled drinks and dodging flying condiments. Dottie, armed with a rolling pin, chased one of them out the back door.

When the distant wail of sirens became audible, Han growled in frustration. “This isn’t over, Jimin,” he snarled, retreating with his men.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimin called after him. “Go cry about your dry-cleaning bill!”

--

Back in the car, Y/N slammed the door shut and turned to Jimin. “What the hell was that?!”

Jimin smirked, brushing a smear of ketchup off her sleeve. “A bonding experience.”

“That was not bonding!”

“Come on,” Jimin teased. “Admit it—you had fun.”

Y/N glared at her, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re mad,” Jimin replied, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

Y/N groaned, starting the engine. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Jimin said, her tone smug.

And as much as Y/N wanted to argue, she didn’t.

--

The abandoned warehouse was dimly lit, its broken windows casting scattered rays of moonlight across the dusty floor. Y/N glanced around nervously, her sneakers crunching against shattered glass.

“This place screams ‘horror movie,’” she muttered, tugging her jacket closer.

“It’s functional,” Jimin replied nonchalantly, already pacing as she dialed her phone. “And nobody will find us here, so stop complaining.”

Y/N huffed, leaning against a rusted metal beam. “I’m not complaining. I’m stating facts. This is where people go to get murdered in every crime show ever.”

Jimin gave her a smirk, holding up a finger as the line connected. She began speaking in rapid Korean, her tone calm yet authoritative.

Y/N squinted, trying to make sense of the conversation. She couldn’t understand the words, but Jimin’s voice carried the kind of confidence that only made her more suspicious.

“What are you saying?” Y/N whispered. “You’re not calling someone to kill me, right?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, continuing her conversation.

Panic bubbled up in Y/N’s chest. Her eyes darted around the room for a place to hide. Spotting an old crate stacked behind a few barrels, she crouched behind it, clutching a broom she found leaning against the wall.

Jimin glanced over her shoulder mid-conversation, her lips twitching as she noticed Y/N’s not-so-stealthy retreat.

“Yeah,” Jimin said into the phone, her voice deliberately louder. “She’s a bit of a handful. Might have to deal with her sooner rather than later. You know how liabilities can be.”

Y/N’s grip on the broom tightened.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Jimin continued, her tone now dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll take care of it personally. Quiet and clean.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. Her heart pounded in her chest. She bit her lip to keep from gasping audibly.

Jimin ended the call, slipping her phone into her pocket. “Guess I should get started,” she said to no one in particular, her voice carrying a playful lilt.

That was enough for Y/N. She shot up from behind the crate, wielding the broom like a makeshift sword. “Stay back!” she yelled, brandishing it wildly.

Jimin froze, her eyes darting to the broom and then to Y/N. Her expression was unreadable for a moment before her lips curled into a grin.

“What are you doing?” Jimin asked, barely holding back laughter.

“Don’t act innocent!” Y/N yelled, lunging forward. “I heard you! You were talking about disposing of me!”

Jimin stepped back gracefully, dodging the wild broom swings with infuriating ease. “Disposing of you? Really?”

“Don’t play dumb!”

Y/N swung again, but the broom’s bristles hit a low-hanging pipe with a clang. The momentum sent her off balance, and she stumbled forward, landing unceremoniously on the floor with a thud.

Jimin doubled over, laughing so hard she had to clutch her stomach. “Oh my god,” she gasped between breaths. “You’re— you’re the least threatening kidnapper in history!”

Y/N groaned, her face burning as she scrambled to her feet. “You’re the least grateful kidnappee in history!”

Jimin wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still chuckling. “You really thought I was going to ‘dispose’ of you? That’s adorable.”

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at her. “Excuse me for being cautious! You’re a mafia boss!”

“And you’re a terrible judge of tone,” Jimin shot back, smirking.

Realizing how ridiculous the situation was, Y/N’s glare softened into a reluctant smile. “Okay, maybe I overreacted.”

“Maybe?”

“Fine, I overreacted. But you shouldn’t mess with me like that!”

Jimin shrugged, still grinning. “It was too easy. And worth every second.��

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you haven’t abandoned me,” Jimin quipped, offering Y/N a hand to steady herself.

For a brief moment, their hands lingered. Y/N quickly pulled away, clearing her throat. “Let’s just focus on not dying tonight, okay?”

“Deal,” Jimin said, the teasing glint in her eyes not fading one bit.

--

The warehouse was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the distant city and the occasional rustle of a rat in the shadows. Y/N sat cross-legged on the cold concrete floor, staring blankly at the wrapper of a granola bar she’d just eaten, her mind still trying to process the last 48 hours. Across the room, Jimin leaned against a tall crate, her face half-illuminated by the flickering overhead light.

The silence stretched between them, awkward and strange. Usually, Jimin would be firing off sarcastic quips or finding creative ways to tease Y/N about her bumbling attempts at “kidnapping.” But tonight, she was uncharacteristically quiet, her expression distant.

Y/N glanced at her, curiosity gnawing at her like a persistent itch. “Hey,” she said hesitantly.

Jimin didn’t respond.

Y/N cleared her throat, louder this time. “Earth to mafia boss. You okay?”

Jimin blinked as though coming out of a trance. “Hmm? Yeah. Fine.”

Y/N frowned, unconvinced. “You don’t look fine. You’re not even making fun of me right now. Should I be worried?”

That earned a faint chuckle, but it was hollow, lacking its usual bite. Jimin slid down the crate, sitting with her knees pulled up slightly and her arms draped over them. She stared at the floor, tracing invisible patterns with her finger.

“It’s nothing,” Jimin said, her voice quieter than Y/N had ever heard it.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Y/N pressed, tilting her head. “I mean, it’s weird seeing you not... smug.”

Jimin glanced at her, a flicker of her usual sass returning. “Careful, you almost sound concerned.”

Y/N shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Hey, you’re my hostage. If something’s wrong with you, it’s my responsibility to deal with it.”

Jimin smirked faintly but didn’t say anything. The silence settled again, heavier this time.

After a long pause, Jimin finally spoke. “You ever feel like your whole life is mapped out for you? Like, no matter what you want, it doesn’t matter because everyone else has already decided who you’re supposed to be?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “That’s... oddly specific.”

Jimin let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah. Welcome to my world.” She rested her head against the crate, her gaze fixed on the flickering lightbulb above. “Everyone thinks being a mafia boss is all power trips and fancy dinners. But it’s not. It’s exhausting.”

Y/N frowned, shifting her position to sit closer. “Exhausting how?”

Jimin’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “You think I wanted this? That I woke up one day and said, ‘You know what? I’d love to be surrounded by violence and deceit for the rest of my life’? No. This... position was handed to me. Expected of me.”

Y/N’s curiosity deepened. “Why? Family?”

Jimin nodded, her expression darkening. “My dad was the head before me. And when he was... gone, everyone looked to me to take over. Not because I wanted it, but because I had to. No one else could keep things together.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. The vulnerability in Jimin’s voice was startling. For the first time since their chaotic “meeting,” she saw the cracks in Jimin’s carefully constructed persona.

“That’s a lot to carry,” Y/N said softly.

“You have no idea.” Jimin’s laugh was sharp, almost self-deprecating. “It’s not just about running things. It’s about living up to expectations. Keeping people loyal. Pretending you’re invincible even when you’re falling apart inside.”

The weight of her words hung in the air. Y/N didn’t know what to say. What could she say?

They sat in silence for a while, the distant city noise filling the void. Finally, Y/N spoke again.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re handling it better than I would,” she said, her tone lighter. “I’d probably have a nervous breakdown on day one.”

Jimin looked at her, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Oh, trust me, I’ve come close.”

Y/N smiled back, and for a brief moment, the tension between them eased.

Then Jimin, ever the master of ruining heartfelt moments, leaned forward, her smirk returning. “Look at you, caring about your hostage. How cute.”

Y/N groaned, her face heating. “Oh my god, don’t ruin this.”

“Too late,” Jimin quipped, her tone playful again.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped her. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” Jimin teased, tilting her head.

“Not by choice!” Y/N shot back, but the humor in her voice betrayed her.

--

The car rattled as Y/N gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled determination, her eyes darting between the rearview mirror and the road ahead. Behind them, two black SUVs tore through the deserted outskirts of the city, their headlights slicing through the early evening gloom.

“This is fine. Everything’s fine,” Y/N muttered to herself, her voice tight with panic.

Jimin, sitting in the passenger seat, leaned back with a bemused expression. Her seatbelt was off, one hand braced casually against the dashboard. “You know, I was starting to think today would be boring.”

“Boring?!” Y/N shrieked, swerving to avoid a pothole that could have swallowed the car whole. “We’re being chased by people who probably want to kill us, and you’re calling this boring?”

Jimin shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, it’s not like this is new for me. But you—” She glanced at Y/N’s trembling hands on the wheel. “—you’re doing... okay, I guess.”

“Okay?!” Y/N shouted, her voice pitching higher as she narrowly avoided a wooden crate that had inexplicably fallen in the middle of the road.

“Relax, kidnapper. You’re alive, aren’t you?” Jimin smirked, but even she flinched as the pursuing SUVs sped up, now close enough for Y/N to see the shadowy figures inside.

“What do they even want?” Y/N hissed, her heart pounding.

“To kill me, mostly,” Jimin replied casually, leaning over to adjust the air conditioning as though they weren’t in a life-or-death situation.

Y/N shot her an incredulous look. “And you’re this calm about it?”

Jimin grinned. “What can I say? Occupational hazard.”

One of the SUVs pulled up alongside them, and the passenger leaned out of the window with something metallic glinting in his hand.

“Is that—oh my god, he’s got a gun!” Y/N yelped, jerking the wheel so hard the car veered onto the shoulder.

“Yeah, they tend to carry those,” Jimin said dryly, her hand gripping the edge of her seat as the car bounced over uneven terrain.

The SUV swerved to follow them, its tires kicking up a cloud of dust. Jimin’s grin widened as she glanced at the driver. “You know, for someone who claimed they couldn’t drive under pressure, you’re doing pretty well.”

“Don’t jinx it!” Y/N snapped, her eyes wild.

Ahead, the road split into two uneven paths: one wide and flat, the other narrow and riddled with sharp turns.

“Which way?!” Y/N screamed.

Jimin tilted her head, as if considering. “The fun one.”

Y/N groaned but swerved onto the narrower path, the car nearly tipping as it rounded the first bend. The pursuing SUVs hesitated, their bulkier frames struggling to keep up.

“See?” Jimin said smugly. “Told you this was better.”

“Better?!” Y/N shrieked as the car clipped a low-hanging branch, the windshield cracking slightly.

Behind them, one of the SUVs tried to make the same sharp turn but skidded off the road, crashing into a ditch.

“One down,” Jimin said, her voice tinged with amusement.

The remaining SUV was relentless, its engine roaring as it closed the gap between them. Y/N’s knuckles were turning an alarming shade of white as she gripped the wheel, her teeth gritted in concentration.

“I’m going to die,” she muttered under her breath. “This is it. I’m going to die in a car chase with a mafia boss.”

“You’re not going to die,” Jimin said, rolling her eyes. “But if you don’t stop panicking, you might get us killed.”

“Wow, great pep talk!”

“Just keep driving,” Jimin said, her voice suddenly sharper.

Up ahead, the narrow road gave way to an old wooden bridge that looked like it had seen better centuries.

“Uh, Jimin? That bridge doesn’t look—”

“Drive faster,” Jimin cut her off, her tone firm.

“What?!”

“Just trust me. Floor it.”

Y/N hesitated for a split second before slamming her foot on the gas. The car surged forward, the engine protesting loudly. The bridge groaned ominously as they sped across it, wooden planks splintering beneath the tires.

The SUV behind them wasn’t so lucky. As it barreled onto the bridge, the structure gave way with a deafening crack, sending the vehicle plummeting into the ravine below.

Y/N barely managed to stop the car on the other side, her heart hammering in her chest. She sat frozen, her hands still gripping the wheel like a lifeline.

Jimin, on the other hand, looked utterly unbothered. “See? Told you it would work.”

Y/N turned to her, her face a mixture of disbelief and fury. “That was your plan? To trust a hundred-year-old bridge not to kill us?!”

Jimin shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Y/N let out a strangled scream and buried her face in her hands. “I hate this. I hate this so much.”

Jimin reached over and patted her shoulder, her tone almost soothing. “Cheer up, kidnapper. You just survived your first car chase. I’d say that’s cause for celebration.”

Y/N groaned loudly, but despite herself, she couldn’t help the small, shaky laugh that escaped her.

“You’re either incredibly lucky or the worst driver alive,” Jimin added with a grin.

Y/N glared at her. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Barely.”

Jimin leaned back in her seat, her smirk never fading. “You should. You’re still alive, after all.”

For the first time that night, Y/N allowed herself to breathe, the adrenaline slowly draining from her system. But as she glanced at Jimin, lounging like she hadn’t just risked both their lives, she couldn’t help but think one thing:

How is this my life now?

--

The safe house was little more than a wooden cabin nestled in a dense thicket of trees. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the ground with patches of gold. Y/N stood on the porch, arms crossed, glaring at Jimin, who was meticulously inspecting a handgun like she was choosing a new accessory.

“This,” Jimin said, holding up the gun, “is what’s going to keep you alive if we run into trouble again.”

Y/N snorted. “Or, hear me out, I could just avoid trouble altogether.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Sure, because that’s worked out so well for you so far.”

Y/N opened her mouth to retort but couldn’t argue with that point. She sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up. “Fine. Teach me. But I’m telling you right now, I’m not exactly action-hero material.”

Jimin smirked. “Oh, trust me, I’ve noticed.” She handed the gun to Y/N, who held it like it might explode in her hands.

“Why is it so heavy?” Y/N complained, staring at it like it was an alien artifact.

“It’s a gun, not a plastic toy,” Jimin said, her tone dry. She stepped behind Y/N, adjusting her grip on the weapon. “Okay, first rule: keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.”

Y/N nodded, her finger twitching dangerously close to the trigger.

“Off. The. Trigger,” Jimin repeated, her voice sharp.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Y/N muttered, quickly removing her finger.

Jimin sighed, stepping even closer. She reached around Y/N, her hands guiding Y/N’s to the proper stance. Y/N froze, hyper-aware of Jimin’s proximity.

“Relax,” Jimin murmured, her breath warm against Y/N’s ear. “You’re holding the gun like it’s a bouquet of flowers. Be firm.”

Y/N gulped, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that Jimin’s hands were practically wrapped around hers. “Firm. Got it.”

“Now,” Jimin continued, “aim down the sights. See that tree over there?” She nodded toward a thick oak about twenty yards away.

“Yeah,” Y/N said hesitantly.

“Shoot it.”

“Wait, what?”

“Shoot the tree.”

Y/N hesitated, squinting down the sights. She took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

The gun kicked back with surprising force, and Y/N yelped, stumbling backward into Jimin. The bullet went wide, missing the tree entirely and hitting the dirt several feet away.

“Holy—” Y/N exclaimed, her ears ringing. “Why didn’t you warn me it would do that?!”

Jimin was laughing so hard she had to lean against the porch railing for support. “You—your face! I can’t—”

“This isn’t funny!” Y/N snapped, her cheeks burning.

“It’s hilarious,” Jimin said between fits of laughter. “You almost shot your own foot!”

Y/N glared at her. “Maybe I should shoot your foot.”

Jimin smirked, straightening up. “If you could aim, maybe I’d be worried.”

Y/N groaned, thrusting the gun back at her. “This is pointless. I’m clearly not cut out for this.”

Jimin shook her head, her expression softening slightly. “You’re not bad for a beginner. You just need practice.”

“Beginner? I kidnapped you by accident!” Y/N retorted.

“And yet here we are,” Jimin said with a smirk. “You’re not as hopeless as you think, Y/N.”

The unexpected sincerity in her tone caught Y/N off guard. She glanced at Jimin, who was casually inspecting the gun again, as if she hadn’t just paid her a compliment.

“Okay, fine,” Y/N said reluctantly. “One more try.”

Jimin handed the gun back with a grin. “Atta girl. Let’s see if you can hit something this time.”

Y/N took her stance again, this time determined not to make a fool of herself. She focused, aimed, and fired.

The bullet nicked the edge of the tree, sending a small spray of bark flying. Y/N turned to Jimin, her face lighting up with excitement. “Did you see that? I hit it!”

“Barely,” Jimin teased, but there was a glint of approval in her eyes.

“Progress is progress,” Y/N said smugly, puffing out her chest.

Jimin chuckled, shaking her head. “At this rate, you might actually survive the week.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. For the first time since this whole ordeal began, she felt a flicker of confidence—and maybe, just maybe, a flicker of something else whenever Jimin looked at her like that.

--

The small-town grocery store was quaint, with neatly arranged shelves and soft music playing overhead. Y/N trailed behind Jimin, clutching a shopping basket filled with instant ramen and an assortment of snacks she had hastily grabbed. She felt out of place amidst the mundanity of the store, especially with Jimin confidently striding ahead like she owned the place.

“Why are we even shopping?” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible over the faint hum of the refrigerators.

“Because,” Jimin replied without looking back, “a mafia boss can’t survive on gas station chips alone. I have standards.”

Y/N huffed but kept following. It wasn’t like she had a choice.

As they reached the frozen foods section, Y/N’s gaze wandered, and she froze mid-step. Near the entrance, two men in dark suits were browsing the produce aisle. Their stiff postures and sharp looks screamed “mob enforcers” to her. Her heart rate spiked.

“Uh, Jimin,” she hissed, grabbing her arm.

Jimin turned, holding a pint of pistachio ice cream. “What?”

“Those guys,” Y/N whispered, tilting her head toward the men. “They’re definitely here for us.”

Jimin followed her gaze, her expression unchanging. “Relax,” she said, turning back to the ice cream freezer. “They’re not here for you.”

Y/N blinked. “How do you know that?”

“Because they’re not mine,” Jimin replied casually, tossing the ice cream into the basket.

“That doesn’t make me feel better!” Y/N said, her voice rising slightly.

“Shh,” Jimin chided, gesturing for her to lower her voice. “If they were here for you, trust me, you wouldn’t even know they were here.”

“That’s supposed to be comforting?” Y/N demanded, but Jimin was already walking toward the checkout line, completely unbothered.

Unable to shake the feeling of being watched, Y/N kept her head down as she hurried to catch up. She stuck close to Jimin, clutching the basket like a lifeline.

--

Outside the store, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the parking lot. Y/N took a deep breath, relieved to be out of the store and away from the men in suits.

“See?” Jimin said, unlocking the car with a click. “No one cares about you, Y/N.”

Y/N glared at her. “You have the worst way of comforting people.”

Jimin smirked, opening the trunk to place their groceries inside. “You’re welcome.”

Before Y/N could retort, a commotion erupted near the corner of the parking lot. A group of men, shouting angrily, had gathered near a beat-up sedan. One of them shoved another, and it quickly escalated into a full-blown argument.

Y/N instinctively took a step back. “Uh, what’s happening?”

Jimin glanced over, her expression darkening. “Rival gang,” she said, her tone clipped.

“Are you serious?” Y/N whispered, her panic rising again.

“Stay here,” Jimin ordered, already stepping toward the scene.

“Wait, what? No! Don’t—” Y/N started, but Jimin was already halfway there.

Y/N watched as Jimin approached the group with the kind of confidence only someone with her background could muster. The shouting died down as the men noticed her. She said something Y/N couldn’t hear, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Y/N’s nerves were shot. She ducked behind the car, peeking over the hood to keep an eye on Jimin.

Suddenly, one of the men gestured aggressively toward Jimin, and before Y/N knew it, he pulled out a weapon.

Her stomach dropped. Without thinking, Y/N darted out from behind the car. “Jimin, look out!”

The man’s focus shifted to Y/N for a split second—a mistake that gave Jimin’s men, who had been shadowing them unnoticed, the opening they needed. In a matter of seconds, the situation was under control.

Jimin turned to Y/N, her expression unreadable. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked, striding toward her.

Y/N stumbled back, her adrenaline wearing off. “I—I thought you needed help.”

Jimin sighed, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you?” Y/N said weakly.

“That wasn’t a compliment,” Jimin said, though there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

As they walked back to the car, Jimin’s men cleaned up the mess behind them. Y/N glanced at Jimin, who seemed completely unfazed by what had just happened.

“You’re insane, you know that?” Y/N muttered, climbing into the car.

Jimin chuckled, sliding into the driver’s seat. “And you’re fragile. But,” she added, glancing at Y/N with a small smirk, “thanks for caring.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity beneath the teasing. She looked away, her cheeks warming.

“Whatever,” she mumbled, but the hint of a smile on her face didn’t go unnoticed.

--

The rundown cabin creaked with every slight breeze, its weathered wooden panels making it feel more like a relic than a refuge. Y/N paced the small living area, muttering to herself as Jimin lounged on the rickety couch, legs crossed, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who’s being hunted by another mafia

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Y/N said, running a hand through her hair. “Why are you so... so calm about all this? Why are you still acting as if you couldn’t leave at any moment?”

Jimin smirked, tilting her head as if Y/N had just asked the most obvious question in the world. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment to take over.”

Y/N froze mid-step, turning to glare at Jimin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jimin shrugged, the smirk widening. “Maybe I’m just letting you tire yourself out, running around like a headless chicken. When the time comes, I’ll strike.”

“You’re bluffing,” Y/N said, though her voice wavered slightly.

“Am I?” Jimin leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. The glint in her eyes was both playful and mischievous.

Y/N swallowed hard. “Well, we’ll see about that,” she muttered, marching toward the cabin door.

The next hour turned into a chaotic game of cat-and-mouse. Y/N, determined to keep Jimin from pulling any tricks, began “fortifying” the cabin. She locked every door and window, stacking random furniture against entryways and fashioning makeshift traps out of whatever she could find.

“Are you seriously barricading me in?” Jimin called from the couch, watching Y/N pile chairs against the front door.

“You’re not taking over anything on my watch,” Y/N retorted, dragging a heavy cabinet toward the back door.

Jimin chuckled, standing up and effortlessly unlocking the window Y/N had just secured. “You know, for someone who kidnapped me, you’re really bad at containment.”

Y/N spun around. “Hey! I just locked that!”

“Oops.” Jimin gave her an innocent look, slowly closing the now-unlocked window.

Y/N groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re frustrated,” Jimin quipped, dodging a throw pillow Y/N hurled at her.

--

After the so-called fortification, Y/N decided chores were a safer distraction. She swept the dusty floors while Jimin, much to her own amusement, insisted on helping.

“Fine,” Y/N sighed, handing Jimin a dish towel. “You can dry the dishes. Think you can handle that without breaking anything?”

Jimin gave an exaggerated gasp. “Wow. Such faith in me, Y/N. I’m touched.”

It took less than two minutes for her to shatter a glass plate.

“Are you serious?” Y/N asked, staring at the shards on the floor.

“It slipped,” Jimin said, looking entirely unbothered as she picked up the larger pieces. “I’ll deduct it from your kidnapping ransom.”

“Ransom?” Y/N’s voice rose an octave. “There is no ransom! That’s not how this works!”

Jimin smiled sweetly. “Oh, I know. But it’s fun to watch you freak out.”

Y/N groaned, returning to sweeping.

--

Later, Jimin volunteered to make toast for a snack. Y/N hesitantly agreed, keeping a watchful eye as Jimin fiddled with the toaster.

“Jimin, it’s not that complicated,” Y/N said when Jimin kept inspecting the buttons like she was defusing a bomb.

“Let me work my magic,” Jimin replied confidently.

Moments later, smoke began billowing from the toaster.

“Magic, huh?” Y/N coughed, fanning the air with her hand. “What did you do?”

Jimin pulled out two charred slices of bread, holding them up like trophies. “I call it ‘Mafia Blackened Toast.’ It’s a delicacy.”

Y/N snorted despite herself, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Jimin grinned. “You’re laughing. That’s progress.”

--

The final straw came when Jimin somehow managed to lock herself in the bathroom.

“Y/N!” she called through the door, her voice a mix of annoyance and amusement.

“What now?” Y/N shouted back, approaching the bathroom.

“I think the lock’s broken.”

Y/N stared at the door. “How did you even manage that? It’s a basic latch!”

“Talent,” Jimin said, deadpan.

Y/N sighed, grabbing a bobby pin and working the lock open. When the door finally swung ajar, Jimin stood there, looking sheepish.

“Thanks, kidnapper,” she said with a wink.

Y/N couldn’t help it—she laughed.

Jimin leaned against the doorframe, watching her. “See? I told you I’d grow on you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re lucky you’re funny.”

Jimin grinned. “And lucky I’m charming.”

“Don’t push it,” Y/N said, brushing past her.

But as Jimin followed, humming a little tune, Y/N couldn’t shake the warmth blooming in her chest. Maybe this whole accidental kidnapping wasn’t entirely terrible.

--

The lake near the cabin shimmered under the fading sunlight, its surface reflecting hues of gold and amber. Y/N leaned against a tree, staring out at the water as Jimin skipped stones effortlessly, each one gliding across the surface with perfect precision.

“Of course, you’re good at this too,” Y/N muttered, crossing her arms.

Jimin glanced back at her, smirking. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, kidnapper. Want me to teach you?”

Y/N snorted. “No, thanks. I’ll leave the stone-skipping expertise to you, your majesty.”

Jimin chuckled and threw another stone, watching it bounce five times before sinking. “Suit yourself.”

The quiet between them wasn’t awkward—just the kind of calm that sneaks in when two people have been through too much together to need constant conversation. Y/N fiddled with a loose thread on her shirt, glancing at Jimin when she thought she wouldn’t notice.

It was annoying, really. The way Jimin’s hair caught the light. The way her smirk softened when she thought no one was looking. The way she made Y/N’s heart race for absolutely no good reason.

“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” Jimin asked, breaking the silence. She turned around, raising an eyebrow at Y/N. “Plotting your next terrible kidnapping strategy?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance.” Jimin grinned, brushing her hands on her jeans before walking over. “Come on. You’re not sulking, are you?”

“I’m not sulking!” Y/N snapped, a bit too quickly.

Jimin leaned closer, narrowing her eyes. “You sure about that?”

Y/N sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m just... thinking.”

“Dangerous territory for you,” Jimin teased, sitting down beside her.

“Do you always have to be such a pain?” Y/N muttered, though her tone lacked any real bite.

“It’s one of my many charms.” Jimin flashed her a dazzling smile before leaning back on her hands, looking at Y/N out of the corner of her eye. “So, what’s got you so deep in thought?”

Y/N hesitated, debating whether to play it off with sarcasm or just say what was on her mind. Against her better judgment, the words spilled out before she could stop them.

“I... I kind of enjoy this. Being around you, I mean.”

The confession hung in the air, and Y/N immediately regretted it. Her cheeks burned, and she avoided Jimin’s gaze, suddenly very interested in the pattern of the dirt at her feet.

There was a beat of silence, then: “Wait, what?”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Forget I said anything.”

“Oh, no way.” Jimin’s voice was laced with amusement as she scooted closer. “Did you just admit you like my company?”

“No!” Y/N shot back, face still hidden. “I mean—maybe. I don’t know! Forget it!”

Jimin laughed, the sound warm and uncharacteristically soft. “This is gold. Are you falling for your hostage, Y/N?”

Y/N finally looked up, glaring at her. “Could you not?”

But the glare didn’t land, not with the way her face was flushed and her expression was more flustered than intimidating.

Jimin’s teasing smirk faltered for a moment as she saw the genuine embarrassment in Y/N’s eyes. Her voice softened. “Hey, relax. I’m just messing with you.”

Y/N huffed, looking away. “You’re impossible.”

“I know,” Jimin said, nudging her shoulder. “But for what it’s worth... I like you too.”

Y/N froze, whipping her head around to stare at her. “You—you do?”

“Obviously,” Jimin said, the smirk returning. “Why else would I stick around with the world’s most incompetent kidnapper?”

Y/N blinked, processing the words before shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming, you mean.”

Y/N laughed despite herself, leaning back against the tree with a sigh. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I could say the same about you,” Jimin replied, her voice softer now. She glanced at Y/N, a flicker of something more serious in her gaze. “Thanks for... being you.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat but managed to play it off with a laugh. “Don’t get all mushy on me now.”

Jimin grinned, picking up a stone and tossing it into the water. “Wouldn’t dream of it, kidnapper.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the lake in hues of orange and pink, the two sat in comfortable silence. For once, neither was running, hiding, or panicking. It was just them, and that was enough.

--

Y/N sat cross-legged on the creaky floor of the rundown cabin, her phone balanced precariously on her knee. The screen was filled with a YouTube tutorial titled “How to Build a Fire Without Burning Down the House.”

“Step one,” Y/N muttered to herself, “gather dry wood.” She glanced out the window where Jimin had wandered off into the woods, promising to find firewood. Y/N still wasn’t sure why Jimin insisted on making this place “cozy,” but it was a rare moment of normalcy. Well, as normal as things could get with your accidentally kidnapped mafia boss.

She glanced at the clock on her phone. Jimin had been gone longer than expected.

Before she could worry too much, the cabin door burst open with a deafening crack.

Y/N froze, her phone clattering to the floor as several men in dark suits stormed inside. Their cold glares swept over the room before locking onto her.

“Where’s Jimin?” one of them demanded, his voice sharp and dangerous.

Y/N’s mind raced, heart pounding in her chest. What the hell?

“Uh…” She looked around frantically, as if Jimin might magically appear. “She’s, um, not here?”

The man stepped closer, clearly unimpressed with her answer. “We know she’s been hiding out with you. Where is she?”

“Out getting firewood?” Y/N blurted, immediately regretting her honesty.

The men exchanged glances before one of them grabbed her arm. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, hold on! I can’t leave—I was about to start a fire!” Y/N protested, struggling as they dragged her toward the door. “This is illegal, you know! Kidnapping is illegal!”

One of the men smirked. “You’d be surprised what we get away with.”

--

The room was dimly lit, with bare concrete walls and a single flickering bulb overhead. Y/N sat tied to a chair in the center, her wrists bound tightly with scratchy rope. Around her loomed several intimidating figures, their eyes cold and unrelenting. Leading the pack was Han, the rival boss—tall, sharply dressed, and annoyingly smug.

Han leaned casually against the table in front of her, studying her with a faint smile that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. Not because he was intimidating, but because of the unsettling mix of curiosity and amusement in his gaze.

“So,” Han began, his voice smooth and almost friendly, “we meet again, Y/N.”

Y/N glared at him, trying to suppress her nerves. “Yeah, hi. Nice to see you too. Could you maybe not tie me up next time?”

Han chuckled, brushing an invisible speck of lint off his sleeve. “That depends. Will you stop harboring my rival?”

“I’m not harboring her!” Y/N snapped. “This whole thing is a misunderstanding!”

“Sure it is.” Han leaned in slightly, his smile widening. “You know, I’ve been thinking about you since our little diner encounter. You’re quite... captivating.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Captivating?”

Han nodded. “It’s not every day someone manages to kidnap Yu Jimin and live to tell the tale. I find that intriguing.”

“Great. Maybe write a book about it and let me go?”

Han laughed softly, ignoring her sarcasm. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that.” He gestured to one of his men. “Let’s try this again. Where is Jimin?”

Y/N’s heart pounded as the burly man approached, his expression menacing. “I don’t know!” she blurted. “She doesn’t tell me anything! I’m just—” She hesitated, realizing the truth wouldn’t exactly help her case. “—an innocent bystander!”

Han raised an eyebrow, his skepticism clear. “Innocent? You were practically glued to her side at that diner. Don’t play coy, Y/N. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Okay, first of all, rude,” Y/N shot back. “Second, if I knew where she was, do you think I’d be here?”

Han tilted his head thoughtfully. “Fair point. But you must know something.”

Y/N hesitated, wracking her brain for anything that might satisfy him without throwing Jimin under the bus. “Uh... she likes espresso?”

Han’s smile twitched.

“She hates bad Wi-Fi?” Y/N continued weakly.

One of Han’s men snorted before quickly disguising it as a cough.

“Enough games.” Han’s voice dropped, and his eyes darkened. He stepped closer, his proximity making Y/N’s stomach churn with unease. “Tell me where she is, or things will get... unpleasant.”

Y/N stared back at him, her heart hammering. She didn’t have a plan, and she definitely didn’t have the information he wanted. “I don’t know where she is!” she insisted. “She left me at the cabin to get firewood, and then you showed up!”

Han’s smile returned, softer this time but no less unsettling. “You know, you’re quite charming when you’re flustered.”

Y/N gaped at him. “What?”

“Relax,” Han said, straightening up. “We’re not going to hurt you. Yet.” He turned to his men. “Keep her comfortable. I need to make some calls.”

“Comfortable?” Y/N echoed as Han began to walk away. “I’m tied to a chair in a dungeon!”

Han glanced back over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. “Some people pay good money for that experience.”

Y/N groaned, slumping against her restraints. “Jimin, if you don’t show up soon, I swear I’ll haunt you if I die.”

--

Jimin trudged through the woods, her arms full of firewood. She’d been taking her time, enjoying the peace and quiet, when she noticed the cabin door wide open.

Her brow furrowed as she stepped inside, instantly taking in the signs of a struggle—the overturned chair, the broken lamp, and the distinct lack of one panicked kidnapper.

“Y/N?” she called, dropping the firewood. Silence greeted her.

Jimin’s jaw tightened, her calm demeanor slipping as worry took hold. She pulled out her phone, dialing a number. “Get everyone together,” she barked when the line connected. “We’ve got a problem.”

--

Han came back to the room, regarding Y/N with that maddening smirk, as though the entire ordeal was just a game to him. “You’re quite the enigma, you know,” he said, his tone almost conversational.

Y/N glared at him, hiding her fear behind a wall of sarcasm. “And you’re quite the creep. Can we skip to the part where you untie me and let me go?”

Han chuckled, pushing off the table and stepping closer. “You’ve got spirit. I like that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fantastic. Add it to my Yelp review after this is over.”

His smile widened as he crouched in front of her, his gaze piercing. “You’re bold. But I wonder... is that bravery, or are you just pretending not to be terrified?”

Y/N swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much his words unsettled her. “Why don’t you untie me and find out?”

Han’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “Tempting.” He stood, turning to his men. “I’ll as you one last time. Where is Jimin?”

Y/N pressed her lips together, weighing her options. She didn’t know where Jimin was right now, but she couldn’t exactly say that without giving away too much. “She’s... she’s not coming for me,” she blurted.

Han arched an eyebrow. “Oh? That’s interesting, considering how quickly she showed up the last time you were in danger.”

“I’m just some random nobody,” Y/N said, trying to sound convincing. “Why would she risk herself for me?”

Han studied her for a moment, then leaned back against the table. “You know, Y/N, I almost believe you. Almost.”

He reached into his jacket, pulling out a sleek, black pistol. The sight of it made Y/N’s stomach drop.

Han twirled the gun lazily in his hand, his eyes never leaving hers. “Here’s the thing. Jimin has a soft spot for lost causes. It’s one of her flaws. So, either you’re lying to protect her, or she’s already on her way.” He pointed the gun at her, his voice dropping to a chilling calm. “Let’s find out which.”

Y/N froze, her pulse thundering in her ears. Her bravado cracked under the weight of the cold barrel aimed at her chest. “W-wait!” she stammered. “You don’t have to do this!”

“Relax,” Han said, smiling faintly. “I’m just testing a theory.”

Before he could say another word, the door to the hideout slammed open. The loud crack echoed through the room, and everyone turned to see Jimin standing in the doorway, flanked by her men. Her sharp suit was pristine, her expression cold as ice.

“Drop it, Han,” she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Han’s smirk returned as he turned toward her. “Right on time, as always, Jimin.”

Jimin’s eyes flicked to Y/N, tied up and terrified, and her jaw tightened. “Let her go.”

Han tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Why so serious? We were just having a friendly chat.”

“Funny,” Jimin said, taking a step forward. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re holding a gun to her chest.”

Han’s smile turned predatory as he shifted his aim, pressing the barrel to Y/N’s temple. Y/N gasped, her eyes wide with fear.

“Careful, Jimin,” Han warned. “One wrong move, and this could get messy.”

Jimin’s expression didn’t waver, but her hands curled into fists at her sides. “You’re making a mistake, Han.”

“And you’re predictable,” Han countered. “Always so quick to play the hero. Tell me, Jimin, what’s this girl to you? A pawn? A distraction?”

Jimin’s gaze darkened, her voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “She’s mine.”

Han chuckled, amused by her response. “Yours, huh? Well, then, I suppose this is personal.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as the standoff stretched. Then, in a flash, Jimin moved. She lunged forward with a speed that left Han’s men scrambling. Her hand struck the gun, knocking it away just as it fired, the deafening crack echoing through the space.

Y/N screamed, flinching as the bullet lodged harmlessly into the wall behind her.

Jimin didn’t stop. She delivered a swift, brutal punch to Han’s jaw, sending him reeling. The room erupted into chaos as her men stormed in, engaging Han’s goons in a flurry of fists and shouts.

Y/N struggled against her bonds, panic and adrenaline coursing through her veins. Jimin, mid-fight, caught sight of her and called out, “Hold on! I’m coming!”

In one fluid motion, Jimin grabbed a discarded knife and sliced through the ropes binding Y/N. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice tight with concern.

Y/N nodded shakily. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

Jimin grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the exit as the fight continued to rage behind them.

--

Outside, the cool night air hit them like a slap. Y/N leaned against the side of a car, trying to catch her breath.

“That was... intense,” she managed, her voice trembling.

Jimin placed a hand on her shoulder, her expression softening for the first time. “You’re safe now.”

Y/N looked up at her, her heart still racing. “You came for me.”

“Of course I did,” Jimin said, her tone almost offended. “Nobody touches my kidnapper but me.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, tears prickling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re reckless,” Jimin countered, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “But... I’m glad you’re okay.”

The moment hung between them, charged with unspoken tension, until Jimin finally pulled away, her cool facade slipping back into place.

“Come on,” she said, helping Y/N into the car. “Let’s get out of here before Han decides to get back up.”

As they sped away, Y/N couldn’t help but glance at Jimin, her heart tugging in a way she wasn’t ready to admit.

--

The apartment was a mess, as always. Y/N’s shoes were haphazardly kicked off by the door, her jacket draped over the back of a chair, and the lingering smell of half-eaten takeout filled the space. Jimin, however, didn’t seem to mind. She leaned casually against the wall, her suit slightly disheveled from the evening’s chaos but still managing to look effortlessly put together.

Y/N paced back and forth in the small living room, her nerves still frayed. “What were you thinking?” she demanded, pointing a finger at Jimin. “You could’ve been killed back there!”

Jimin arched an eyebrow, her arms crossed over her chest. “I wasn’t the one tied to a chair, sweetie.”

“That’s not the point!” Y/N snapped, spinning to face her. “You didn’t have to risk yourself like that. You should’ve just—just let me handle it!”

Jimin’s smirk deepened, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Handle it? You mean when you were about to get shot? Great plan, Y/N. Truly inspiring.”

Y/N groaned, running a hand through her hair. “I mean it, Jimin. You don’t get to just... swoop in and play hero like that. I’m not—” She faltered, her voice softening. “I’m not worth losing yourself over.”

Jimin pushed off the wall, her expression shifting to something softer, more serious. “Don’t say that.”

Y/N looked away, her arms wrapping around herself. “Why not? It’s true. I’m just some random nobody who accidentally kidnapped you. You could’ve walked away at any time, but instead, you’re... you’re doing all this. Why?”

Jimin stepped closer, her heels clicking softly against the worn floorboards. “You’re not nobody,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a rare sincerity.

Y/N’s breath caught as Jimin reached out, gently tilting her chin up so their eyes met. “I don’t care how we started. What matters is where we are now,” Jimin continued, her gaze intense. “And right now, you’re the only thing I care about.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then, as if drawn by some unspoken pull, Jimin leaned in and kissed her.

It was tender at first, a soft brush of lips that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. But it quickly deepened, Jimin’s hands sliding to Y/N’s waist as she pulled her closer. Y/N’s heart raced, her hands tentatively finding their way to Jimin’s shoulders.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathless, Jimin smirked down at her. “So,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing, “still think you’re the one in charge here?”

Y/N blinked up at her, dazed. “I—what?”

Jimin chuckled, stepping back just enough to lean against the edge of the table. “You kidnapped me, remember? Isn’t the kidnapper supposed to be in charge?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and exasperation. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” Jimin quipped, her smirk softening into a genuine smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. “Fine. You win.”

Jimin tilted her head, feigning surprise. “Oh, was there ever any doubt?”

Y/N groaned, but the warmth in her chest betrayed her frustration. She shook her head and sighed. “Alright, Mafia Boss. What now?”

Jimin straightened, her smile taking on a mischievous edge. “Now? We figure out how to make this work.”

Y/N blinked. “This?”

“This,” Jimin repeated, gesturing between them. “You. Me. Us.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the casual confidence in her words. “You’re serious?”

Jimin leaned in again, her smirk returning. “Do I look like someone who does things halfway?”

Y/N swallowed hard, a mix of excitement and terror bubbling in her chest. “You’re insane,” she muttered.

Jimin chuckled, her voice warm. “You’re not wrong.”

With that, she grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her toward the couch. “Come on, kidnapper. Let’s order takeout and figure out what the hell we’re doing.”

Y/N let herself be pulled along, a smile creeping onto her face despite herself. Maybe, just maybe, she could handle a little insanity if it meant keeping Jimin around.