Reblog If You Are A Fic Writer Who Welcomes Moodboards, Playlists, Remixes, Art And Any Other Type Of

Reblog if you are a fic writer who welcomes moodboards, playlists, remixes, art and any other type of gift based on your stories.

First of all, I want to thank you for being a writer who feeds the starving gays. Second of all, I want to thank you for inspiring me to write. Your blog is frickin amazing and it might be off topic by a lot; but the color scheme just screams "Be as soft as you want to be over here"

This. This is it. Thank you so so much for the kind words; you have no idea how much they mean to me. I'm beyond thrilled to have made a space for you guys to come to and enjoy yourselves; it always makes me so happy to hear that.

You really know to how to flatter a girl 😌 And I inspired you to write?? I'm blown away, honestly. I'm honored 🥰 No way did I ever expect that.

Also, please don't hesitate to reach back out if you ever decide to post your writings; I'd love to read them!

Okay bye, imma go cry from all of the love and support 😭❤

Back To You

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,266

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Some Fluff, Some Smut / Suggestive Themes, Some Swearing

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! This one is based loosely on the songs “Everytime” by Ariana Grande and “Oh My God” by (G)I-DLE. (Total bops, ikr?) There are some *spicy* moments in here, so prepare yourselves. Nothing too crazy, but it’s definitely something new for me. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it; feel free to let me know what you think. Happy reading!

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As Lisa watched you from the back of the room, her drink being clutched tighter in her hand with each passing second, she attempted to control her emotions. The current song’s strong beats pulsed throughout the house, the bass sending vibrations out across the floor. She watched as you spun around, leaning back and grinding slightly on whatever new person had been brave enough to approach you. Their hands were all over you, gripping your hips, your hair -- everything. The sight made her sick, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of you.

“You okay?” Jennie asked, raising her voice loud enough for her friend to hear. Upon seeing the dejected look on Lisa’s face, she followed her gaze; just as her eyes landed on you, your dancing partner leaned in to press a kiss to your neck. Your head was tilted back, granting them access; Jennie knew that Lisa would be crushed.

"Totally." She seethes, clenching her jaw and rolling her eyes as you're bent over again. 

Not even 10 minutes ago, she was the one dancing with you. The past hour had seen you two out there, bodies pressed close together, free in the rhythm. 

But she lost you the second that she left to get a drink: everyone who had been waiting for the chance to dance with you took this as their opportunity. 

Upon seeing her best friend so miserable, Jennie began to regret inviting you in the first place. The girls love Lisa more than anything and they want to see her happy; clearly, though, whatever you share with Lisa is anything but healthy. Every time they voice their concerns, she swears she knows what she's doing -- that she's capable of handling herself. It doesn't take a genius to see that she's not fine, but they do owe you some credit; she's seen some of her happiest times because of you. The only thing Lisa is certain of is that she can never seem to leave you. Anytime she thinks she's managed to let go, you're calling again, effectively pulling her back in. The situation is complex, feelings and fears mixing together in a deadly combo. 

After a while, Jennie convinces her to spend some time with the girls outside by the firepit in hopes of taking her mind off of the situation. She agrees, and soon she's genuinely enjoying herself again. 

~~~~~~~

Why, out of every other room possible, did she have to walk into this one? It's almost karmic, to the point that Lisa wonders if maybe she did something so unbearably heinous in a past life that she might be deserving of such punishment. She was simply looking for the restroom; never did she expect to witness this. 

Perhaps you haven’t noticed her presence yet -- you're in someone’s lap, half naked with your hair mussed and lips swollen, your motions never ceasing for a second. Standing there, catching you in the act, Lisa's torn -- should she slip away and pretend like she never saw that? Or should she burst in and interrupt you? 

Before she has time to react, the decision is made for her.

From outside the door, just a little bit down the hallway, another partygoer shouts out a slurred phrase to their friend, falling to the ground in a drunken heap. The sound catches your attention (considering it was loud enough to be heard over the music blasting from downstairs) and you look up. Lisa’s eyes meet yours halfway, neither of you knowing what to do at that point. She visibility tenses before muttering a quick sorry and shutting the door. Shit.

Your current hook-up is too busy leaving marks on your neck to even acknowledge what happened, their hands gripping your waist as they pull you in closer. While part of you wants to go after her, your mind is still clouded with desire -- your body overrules your better judgement, prompting you to continue on. You attempt to push the thoughts of Lisa from your mind, but every time your head is thrown back in pleasure, eyelids fluttering closed, the image of her sad eyes flashes before you. Why did she look so upset?

Lisa’s heart is breaking. After making her way down the stairs, she throws a goodbye to her friends over her shoulder before walking out. What the two of you have was never supposed to be complicated; quite the opposite actually. Neither of you can deny the energy you share -- the connection you feel anytime you're together-- but you aren't ready for a relationship. Lisa's always said that she isn't either, but it's a lie every time; she doesn't want to tie you down or hold you back from experiencing everything life has to offer, but she wants more with you. 

She prides herself on being a strong woman, tough in the face of difficult situations. But the one thing she can't seem to get over is the fact that you're intimate with other people. It's not a new discovery by any means, but in the past she could always pretend like it wasn't true when the sadness would come on especially strong. After finding you like that at the party, though, she clearly can't do that anymore. 

Once the two of you are finished, they quickly exit the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. With them gone, you can finally breathe and take a minute to think about what happened. Why do you feel guilty? Lisa has made it clear that she's okay with what you have going on, but yet something in her gaze told you the opposite. The way her face fell, brows knitted sadly, eyes cast to the floor -- it all sold her out, her real emotions on full display. 

~~~~~~~

Two Days Later

"Can I come over, baby?" The pet name felt a bit foreign on your tongue now, almost as if you didn't have the right to use it after what happened. 

She knew the words were coming, but she still felt her stomach flip at them. A simple "Mmm," came through the phone as your answer, and you soon set off for her apartment. You could tell she was trying to sound the same as always, attempting to disguise the uncertainty in her voice as indifference. 

~~~~~~~

*Knock Knock*

The second that the door opens, you begin to apologize. 

"Lisa, I'm sorry that you had to see--"

The feeling of her mouth on yours silences you, catching you completely off guard. Wasn't she upset? Despite the confusion, you don't move away; you allow her to pull you into the room, melting into her embrace as she pushes you up against the door. 

The logical part of your brain is begging you to wait, to talk about what happened that night, but you can't find the strength to step out of her hold. Gently, her nails graze over your skin, mindlessly tracing little patterns as her soft lips press to your jaw. 

Her hands swiftly snake under your shirt, caressing the warm skin of your abdomen, and she lifts her head to kiss your lips. After spending so much time with Lisa, you're able to read her well; every touch, tremble, and move has its own meaning, successfully communicating the thoughts that she could never say out loud. Her body never lies to you, and you consider it a trusted source for that very reason. With that in mind, you make a mental note to pay attention so that you might gain some insight into what she's feeling. 

After stumbling blindly into the living room, she walks you backwards until your legs hit the couch; with a shove, you're sent falling backwards onto the soft cushions below. Her darkened eyes peer down at you, scanning over every inch of your body. Once her gaze settles on your face, she smiles widely; you're already turned on, and she's proud of herself. The air of the room thickens as she licks her lips, signalling for you to take your clothes off. She reciprocates before joining you, hovering over your form. Her hair falls into your face, gently tickling your cheeks and lightening the mood momentarily; the action draws a giggle from you, and she grins at the sound. No matter how upset she was, how hurt your previous actions made her, she would forever be under your spell. 

The aura around you shifts back to its initial, tense state, thrilling you to your core. She bites your lip, granting herself more access as she nudges your legs apart with her knee. The feeling of her toned thigh connecting with your center sends you reeling, but she's quick to muffle your moan with a kiss. Every little move from her drives you crazy, only fueling your desire more. One of your arms wraps around her waist, aiding her movements on your thigh, while your other hand comes up to tangle in her hair. With a tug, you begin kissing down her neck, leaving dark marks on the tender skin there. Your actions pull a low groan from her, and you almost grow arrogant; your ego is soon put in check when she grinds further down onto you, her hips settling into a smooth rhythm. Your knees go weak at the sensation, your stomach tightening with each push and pull of her body against your own.

The pleasure rushing through you causes your eyes to flutter closed, mind only on Lisa. Your head falls back onto the cushion, and she jumps at the opportunity to gently -- teasingly -- wrap her fingers around your neck, the slightest bit of pressure added. "You like that, baby?" It's a rhetorical question: she knows you enjoy it, especially with the way that your pulse quickens beneath her fingertips, your skin heating up. She watches as your eyes peek open the slightest bit, only to widen upon seeing the lustful look she's giving you. Knowing that your words would surely fail you, you instead nod furiously, determined to answer her question anyway. 

Her other hand travels up your stomach, past your ribs, and eventually lands on the material on your bra. In one motion, she has it off of you, sending it flying across the room with a flick of her wrist. When you shift your leg, brushing it harder up against where she needs you most, her breath hitches and her movements speed up. "Fuck, Y/N," she whines out.

"L-lisa…" The word is a mix between a stutter and a sigh as it slips past your lips; the very ones that are swollen and red from her fervent kisses. Seeing you like this -- watching you slowly come undone right before her, squirming and calling out her name -- is one of her favorite pastimes. She wants nothing more than to be the only one who has the privilege of seeing this show. You've drug her under completely, leaving her no possible way of escaping the love she has for you.

The couch creaks beneath you, its springs being worn down with every thrust of Lisa's hips, and the lewd sounds you're both letting out echo across the apartment. Surely her neighbors can hear what you're up to, and perhaps that should matter; it doesn't, though, at least not right now. 

By the way she's pouring her all into it, giving you everything she has, you know she's hurt. She's trying to prove something to you, to show you how good she can make you feel. 

You match her energy, both of you spending the next while pulling out all the stops to bring each other to release.

~~~~~~~

Deep maroon paints the dusky sky, streaks and hues of yellow and orange mixing in here and there. From your position on the couch, the curtain is parted just enough to give you a glimpse of the brilliant summer evening. The two of you must've fallen asleep after your third round, considering how much later it is and how rested you feel. Lisa’s skin is warm against your own, her body cradled in your arms underneath the blanket. With this peaceful set-up laid out before you, you decide to put your head back again and relax.

A few minutes later, quiet sniffles against your chest snap you out of your post-sex haze, causing you to quickly reposition yourself to look into Lisa’s eyes. 

"What's wrong, jagi?" 

Her eyes shut at the name now, tears wetting her long lashes at the action. How many other people have earned that titled? The thought of you holding anyone else like you're holding her right now breaks her heart.

"Don't you know?" She asks sadly, voice soft.

"I think so, but I need you to tell me." Sensing that this conversation will be a serious one, you sit up fully so that you can face her. 

"I want to be with you, Y/N. I can't share you anymore." She dives right in, sick of always beating around the bush. This isn't the first time she's tried to make you aware of her feelings, but in the past she's always relented, chalking her confessions up to simply being caught up in the moment. Her tone lets you know that this time will be different, though. 

"Lisa, we've talked about this--" The words come out sounding tired, but you're not sure what it's more directed towards: her and this recurring argument, or yourself. Perhaps a bit of both, seeing as how they're interconnected in many ways -- you're the root cause of the issues. You're tired of reminding her of your agreement, always having to be the one to crush her spirits time and time again; but what's more, is that part of you is tired of fighting your feelings for her. 

She's perfect, even in the ways that she isn't, and you know you don't deserve her because of that. You're a deeply flawed individual, too much of a coward to face your feelings and be honest. All you've ever known is running, and the idea of being open and vulnerable with someone so important to you isn't something you can deal with. You've tried pushing her away -- keeping her at arm's length, hoping she'll see that she deserves better than you -- but it never works. You're far too selfish to give her up completely, and she's too in love to leave. 

"Don't say it," she pleads, fresh tears being wiped away as soon as they fall onto her skin. 

"Why am I so special, huh? You could have anyone in the world and you choose me? I'm a nobody; I have nothing to offer you." The words are whole-heartedly earnest, honestly surprising you a bit. 

"I don't know why, Y/N. Don't you think I've questioned that myself?" 

You shake your head, taking a minute to gather your thoughts.

"Tell me that you don't feel the same. I need to hear you say it." Her tone is final, attempting to hold strong. She's trying to do this in order to move on, but both of you know it's futile. 

"I can't do that." You refuse to lie to her.

"Why, if you're only interested in me for sex?" You curse yourself for allowing things to get to the point that she'd believe something like that. 

"You've gotta be kidding me. I care about more than that, Lisa; I'm just trying to protect you." 

"From what?" She inquires, quirking an eyebrow as she crosses her arms. She's growing frustrated just like you; you can feel it.

"Me, damnit! I'm not good for you; can't you see that?" You're exasperated at this point.

"Why the hell is everyone such an expert on what's good for me? The girls, now you -- evidently everyone gets a say in it but me."

She has a point, so you tell her to continue.

"All I know is that I want you, Y/N. I wanna be the person you wake up next to, the first person you call when you have news to share; your person. I know you're far from perfect, but when have I ever asked you to be? You're a fucking mess, but I want every part of you." 

Did she really just say that to you? Your mind tries to process how the hell you managed to have such an incredible woman so ready and willing to not only stay by your side, but actively want to be there. No one's ever cared enough to be different; but Lisa is the difference that you've been searching for all along. She's seen your struggles; you've told her more about your past than anyone else, and somehow it's only made her want to stay more. How you had been such an idiot before is beyond you, but you can't put all of the blame on yourself. Having a person like her in your corner is rare; you're just happy you had this epiphany before you let her slip away.

She's looking into your eyes, intently searching for an answer in the deep pools as she waits for you to respond. The nerves that she's worked hard to suppress bubble up within, sending a sinking feeling to settle within her stomach. She holds her breath upon seeing you slowly lift your head higher, a special sort of twinkle in your eye.

"I'm so sorry, Lisa; for everything. You're the best person I know, and the absolute last person to deserve what I've put you through. I'm just scared. You're different than what I'm used to and I don't know how to deal with that. But I want you, too."

She can't contain the smile that works on her lips, tugging the corners up in the most adorable way possible. Her heart is soaring now, starting to feel like it's being repaired as she fully registers your words. She's been dying to hear you open up -- to let her in -- and it's finally happened. 

"Yeah?" She asks, seeking reassurance that this is really happening before she gets her hopes up.

"Yeah." You declare, reaching for her hand. "I'm ready to try." A gentle kiss is pressed to it, serving as your way of confirming your feelings. For some reason, kissing her hand has always felt sacred to you; thus, you only do it on special occasions. She's noticed that fact too, so it means so much more to her that you chose to do it now. 

"Come here." She utters, leaning back and opening her arms for you to join her. She wants to hold you. With a wide smile, you quickly do as she asks; her embrace is one of your favorite places in the whole world, and you'd never miss a chance to be in it.

Your head is on her chest, the sound of her steady heartbeat making its way to your ear, comforting you. She rests her cheek against the top of your head, taking in the tropical smell of your shampoo. I'll have to get her some more, she thinks to herself. She can't wait to spoil you.

Now, with the cosmos finally finding some semblance of harmony, the two of you begin your journey together. It won't be easy, but the love you hold for each other is too strong to let go to waste. Lisa’s shoulders are free of the previous weight they held, her heart no longer bound by the shackles placed on it. She's free to love you, to show you that you're worthy of a good, kind love -- the type that's patient and honest -- and she's never been happier. 

Die For You

Requested by Anon: “hi :) can I request Jennie scenario based on The Weeknd’s song ‘Die For You’? I also wanted to say I really love your works, they’re really good”

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,705

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Fluff, Near-Death Experience, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Thank you anon! My schedule is getting busy again, so writings may take a bit longer to get posted; I apologize for the delay with this one, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Let me know what you guys think!

PS ~ This is my first time writing a song request, so I kind of just went with it lol. It’s a little messy, but I think it has charm. Happy reading!

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Jennie Kim has a magnetic pull to her -- one that is relentless and unwavering once it takes control of you. It’s hypnotic in every way; sweet torture in its truest form; and you’re always left to pick up the pieces.

The arrangement that you share with Jennie has been clear from the get-go: friends with benefits, no strings attached. Neither of you have time for anything serious, and this seemed like a win-win: always having someone to come home to when you happened to be in the same area at the same time? Hell yeah. 

You hate that you want me

Hate it when you cry

You're scared to be lonely

'Specially in the night

Gradually, though, things got messy -- lines became blurred as feelings mixed into the equation. You did everything in your power to make them go away, reminding yourself time and time again of the agreement you had. But in moments like these, as you lay in bed with Jennie, her head resting on your chest as your hand runs through her hair, you can’t help how your heart swells. Pale moonlight traces patterns on the floor, wiggling its way into the room to offer a soft glow and ambiance. In here, you’re untouchable: no cameras or prying eyes; it’s just you and Jennie, free to be yourselves. Given this fact, you’ve grown to have a love-hate relationship with these four walls; they’re your haven -- your refuge -- but they serve as a brutal reminder of just how limited your relationship with Jennie is.

Nothing is certain: weeks turn into months -- especially when she’s on tour or otherwise occupied with her busy schedule -- and you’re left to your own devices, waiting on her return. Each day without her brings you closer to believing that you’re strong enough to move onto something better -- something more consistent; but then there she is, knocking on your door again, completely pushing that absurd idea from your mind. One smile from her is enough to reel you back in, and it only makes you feel more conflicted. 

Jennie stirs in her sleep, nuzzling her face closer into you as she brings a hand up to rest against your collarbone. Her body twitches lightly, lips pursing and pouting against your neck, and you wonder what she’s dreaming about. She doesn’t seem to be distressed in any way, so you take the opportunity to get a good look at her. Within the next couple hours the alarm would be blaring that sound that you despise more than anything else in this world, signalling for her to get ready and head off to the airport to leave you all over again. Despite the circumstances, you're comforted by the fact that she always makes sure to set it for the very last second, barely giving herself enough time to catch her flight -- she wants to spend every moment possible with you, and she makes it a point to do just that. Tearful goodbyes in the back of your car would be too involved for your “relationship”, so you always try to seem unaffected (or, at least, as close to that as you can manage). You save your tears for when you arrive back home, where you spend the evening coming to terms with her absence. She would never tell you, of course, but her flights are known to bear witness to plenty of sadness for her as well; with each new mile added to the distance between the two of you, her heart breaks a little more.

~~~~~~~

It’s been 4 months since you last saw Jennie. The time apart had offered you a new perspective, something in the long nights without her affirming what you already knew to be true -- you weren’t capable of continuing on like this much longer. Nothing about your situation was ever simple; the instant you began catching feelings, it all became muddled. The one rule set -- the only principle you were tasked with following -- had been broken, and there was nothing you could do to repair it. 

A knock at your door echoes out across the empty apartment, and you quickly put down the food that you had been preparing. With a swift adjustment of the dial, you set the burner to simmer and make your way to the door. None of your friends had mentioned that they were coming by, so you’re genuinely clueless as to who it could be. 

“Jennie?” Surprise is inadequate in describing the feeling that courses through you upon meeting that familiar gaze. The metal of the knob is cool in your hand as you grip it, knuckles turning white while your emotions run wild. She had failed to let you know that she was coming back to town, neglecting even to text you recently.  

“Miss me?” How are you to answer that? Part of you wants to blurt out your thoughts, effectively ripping the metaphorical band aid right off, but another part of you wants to deny her: the past few months had allowed your feelings to become somewhat dormant as you attempted to see a future beyond this arrangement, one void of her presence. It’s completely normal to feel like that, you tell yourself. It’s strange, but as in love with her as you are, you’re almost as equally indifferent about it all. How many more times could you watch her walk away, only to string you along until she came waltzing right back in? 

The more important question of the matter is apparent: how would you even begin to tell her what you’re feeling? In the past, you’ve tried to make her aware of what you’re going through, only to be met by a change of topic. She always stayed reserved, opting to spend your time together talking about anything other than that.

Deciding that you were taking far too long to respond to her, she steps into the room, closing the door behind her. The time away from you had affected her more than she’s willing to admit, and she’s more than ready to embrace you. Her arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body flush up against hers, and she sighs at the feeling. “I’ve missed holding you, Y/N.” The sweet nothing does it’s job, making your heart flutter as the words register in your mind. You’re still tense, though, and she doesn’t fail to notice; before long, soft kisses are being trailed across your face -- her attempt at relaxing you. Sometimes you wonder if she knows your body better than you do: it responds to her, just like she knew it would, and you loosen up. 

After what feels like minutes of just standing there, bodies intertwined, her hands make their way to your hips. She leans forward and ghosts her lips over yours, her gloss smudging a bit in the process. A battle is being fought in your mind: should you allow yourself this indulgence? Or is this the time to be strong and finally put your foot down? The choice is made up for you by the way that she slowly backs you up against the wall, along with how her mouth brushes against yours as her warm hands steady you. Before you can stop yourself, you close the distance. 

Her lips move against yours in perfect time, a delicious rhythm being set in the process. It brings to mind the notion that maybe -- just maybe -- the two of you are meant to be. After all, you fit together like a puzzle, being complete in the presence of one another. 

As her fingers play at the band of your shorts, hands roaming further with each needy kiss she presses to your lips, you debate with yourself. Her actions tempt you to cave in and give yourself up to her, but you decide that you can’t go down that road again. At least not until everything gets sorted. Quickly -- as to not give her anymore time to change your mind -- you step back and run a hand through your hair. Hers is messy, lips red and pupils blown wide. She reaches out for you again, but you simply hold your hand up in response.

“I can’t, Jennie.” The words come out as a reluctant declaration, your tone sounding tired.

Her brows furrow, but you continue.

“I can’t keep doing this.” 

“Elaborate.” Her demand is clear, but you miss the effort that it took for her to come off that way. At your words, panic began to course through her; she can’t lose you. 

“Whatever this is,” you say, motioning between the two of you. “I can’t be someone who waits around for you all the time, just keeping your bed warm.” She wants to laugh at that one; it’s almost comical how far you are from the truth. Jennie knows she’s good at hiding her feelings, but she’s shocked that she managed to make you believe something that ridiculous about yourself. You mean the world to her -- she’s just too afraid to admit it.

“Y/N--”

“No, don’t even try to change the subject; I’m sick of it. Please, just listen to me for once.”

A subtle nod from her serves as your cue to continue.

“I never meant for things to get like this, Jennie, believe me. But I can’t pretend anymore: I like you, a lot. And after having you in the ways that I’ve had you…” you pause, allowing your eyes to trail up and down her body as you clench your jaw, “I can’t bear the thought of someone taking my place when I’m not around. Do you know how hard that is to deal with?”

Happens every time

I'm scared that I'll miss you

I don't want this feelin'

I can't afford love

She seems stunned, to say the least; she blinks a few times before gathering her thoughts and speaking up. “You’re all I think about, no matter what I’m doing.” For a second, you’re hopeful: your heart beats a little faster at her confession, and you finally believe you’re getting somewhere with her. Sadly, she continues: “But I can’t afford that. I don’t have time for a commitment like that, and we have something good right now. I’ve seen plenty of relationships go bad and end in heartbreak; why should we risk it?”

“Aren’t you tired of it? Sometimes I really start to think that you like me back, but then you’re as guarded as ever, pushing me away again. I never know where I stand with you. So unless you tell me how you honestly feel, you’ll have to take me off your list of fuck buddies.”

Your language catches her off guard, seeing as how it’s unexpected and unlike you. How are you so oblivious? You’re so much more than that to her.

“Fine, Y/N! I’m in deeper than I care to admit. I’ve tried to run from it, but I can’t. You’re the one person I can’t seem to forget, and I can’t stand you because of that. And yeah..” she pauses, a bit exasperated, and takes a deep breath before continuing. “I won’t deny that I’ve been with other people when I’m away.” You close your eyes at her admission, that familiar sadness beginning to seep in -- it wasn’t anything you didn’t already know, but that doesn’t make its confirmation any easier to hear. 

“They’re not you, though. They don’t know me like you do… they’re not fun like you. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and I don’t want to. It terrifies me.”

“That’s kinda part of the deal, Jennie -- it’s a scary thing. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I’m willing to try with you. What we have right now is wearing me down, and I don’t deserve it; so either listen to your heart and be with me, or you won’t be seeing me again.”

Following your ultimatum, she doesn’t dare speak. Her brows are slightly furrowed again, jaw set, and she’s looking at the ground. Out of habit, your arms cross against your chest -- being vulnerable is never something you particularly enjoy (especially with so much on the line) but you’re sick of beating around the bush with her. One of the first lessons you ever learned from Jennie is that she avoids her feelings at all costs; so, standing there, you wonder what it would take to make her finally open up. Would your absence be enough? Maybe you were foolish for thinking so.

With every second that passes, silence remaining unbroken by the words that you so desperately want to hear from her, your heart sinks more and more. Every insecurity you have is swirling in your mind, further clouding it. Her lack of a response confirms your fears, and you nod quickly, knowing what you have to do. 

“Okay, I get it. I’m gonna take a walk, but you can stay here and take a shower since you just got in. When I come back, though, I want you gone.”

She doesn’t even raise her head to look at you. Inside, her heart is breaking; every fiber of her being is begging to say something -- anything -- but she stays quiet. It’s hard enough for her to keep her feelings for you in check with the arrangement you have now; if you become official, she won’t know what to do with herself. She’s falling hard, but she’s fighting it all the while -- her lifestyle doesn’t have room for love. You deserve someone who can be with you whenever you want them, not someone who’s always a world away. Calls and texts only go so far, and she knows it wouldn’t be enough for either of you. She’s spent your latest stint apart attempting to come to terms with the idea of life without you; it’s the last thing she wants, but she needs you to move on and find someone better. For you, she’s willing to hurt, so long as it means you’re happy. 

After a beat, she accepts your words, confirming that she heard you by giving a simple nod. Any remaining hope you were clinging to fades away completely, and you’re left feeling empty. Now at the coat rack, you pull your jacket over your shoulders and slip your shoes on. “There’s food on the stove, by the way. Don’t let it burn.” You say over your shoulder, too sad to look at her again. Maybe that’s some sort of symbolism: the wonderful thing you had spent so long creating was fizzling out right in front of you, Jennie being the one who could fix it all. She can step up and repair things, but that doesn’t seem very likely to happen. Tears are brimming in your eyes, and her heart breaks at the sound of your sniffles. 

Even though we're going through it

And it makes you feel alone

With a thud, the apartment door closes, and Jennie finally breaks down. It all hits her in an instant, and soon she’s sliding down to the floor, her tears mimicking her actions as they fall onto her cheeks. Why did this have to be so hard? Seeing the pain etched so plainly into your features was definitely the hardest part to all of this; she’s being cruel to be kind… if only you knew that. 

I try to find reason to pull us apart

It ain't workin' 'cause you're perfect

And I know that you're worth it

I can't walk away, oh!

As soon as Jennie had realized her feelings all that time ago, she racked her brain for any and every logical reason to end things. She would pick fights over small things, praying to every higher power that you’d get tired of the stupidity and give up on her. So many other people had in the past, so why wouldn’t you? Knowing that you’re different from all the rest -- perfect for her in every way imaginable -- only scares her more. You lit a fire in her heart the day you met, and it’s only grown stronger ever since. 

~~~~~~~

20 Minutes Later

You have no real destination in mind; you’re content with just allowing your feet to take you wherever they wish to go.

Chatter from across the city makes its way to your ears, oddly offering a sense of comfort in your time of need. The night sky is full of stars, and the city bustles with life and activity. As you pass different businesses and shops, their iridescent lights shine just for you. Distant cars honk as they traverse the streets, and your mind begins to think of all of the different things those people might be doing right now. Surely some are having a great day, maybe on their way home, eager to be greeted by their loved ones. Others might be hurting just like you.

And you won't find no one that's better

'Cause I'm right for you, babe

I think I'm right for you, babe

Jennie fails to realize that all you want is her; you’re not naive -- you know how crazy her schedule is, but you’re more than willing to make sacrifices if it means she’ll be yours. No one makes you feel the way she does, and the thought of spending your life searching for something that can never compare scares you. 

A slight breeze rolls in, ghosting over your skin, and you’re reminded of all the times she would pull you in close to keep you warm. Her sweet perfume would fill your nose as you snuggled into her embrace, sharing the heat that her coat offered. Getting over her would definitely be a bitch.

It's hard for me to communicate the thoughts that I hold

But tonight I'm gon' let you know

Let me tell the truth

Baby, let me tell the truth, yeah

The peace -- if you can call it that -- is broken by a shout. “Y/N, wait!” Confused, you spin around on your heel towards the voice. It’s Jennie; she’s sprinting to you, her brown locks bouncing and flowing in the wind with every step. Conflicted, yet again, your feet appear to be rooted in their spot. What does she want now? It seems that every time you get your hopes up, she’s always letting you down. With this in mind, you slowly turn back around and continue your walk. Eventually she’ll catch up to you, but you need the extra time to gather your now-jumbled thoughts. 

Just know that I would die for you

Baby I would die for you, yeah

It all happened in a blur. As you began crossing the street to put more distance between Jennie and yourself, the high pitched sound of tires squealing against the pavement rang out. The car came out of nowhere, barrelling straight towards you with no signs of stopping; they had run a red light. Your eyes locked with the driver’s, both of you donning an equally terrified expression, and you had no time to react. Just as the bumper was about to come into contact with your body, you were instead forcefully shoved out of the way. Another person -- your savior -- comes tumbling with you just in the nick of time, and the driver swerves around you.  

“Are you okay?!” It’s Jennie; her voice is ripe with worry, her thoughts focused solely on your wellbeing. She doesn’t even notice the cut that she received from the fall. You bring your hand up to her forehead to assess the wound.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. But you,” you say, touching her injury and eliciting a pained hiss from her in the process, “...are not.” The two of you are breathing hard as adrenaline courses through your systems; once it has died down a bit, you stand up and check each other for any more sore spots.

“Thank you, Jennie. I don’t know how to repay you for something like that.” 

“I’d do it again a million times, Y/N. I’m sorry for putting you through all of this. I came to tell you that I love you, and that I’m done running. Seeing you leave really put things into perspective for me.”

“Am I supposed to believe that, or will you change your mind again?” The words are harsh, your voice laced with the bitterness that you still hold onto. You can’t find it in yourself to cushion the blow much; you’re still hurt by what’s happened in the past, and rightfully so. Beyond that, though, you’re trying to be cautious; after hearing her confess like that, you know there’s no going back. 

“Okay, I deserve that one. But I mean what I said. You’re the best thing in my life -- the best I’ve ever had -- and I just want you to be happy. I’ve always been afraid that I can’t give you that if I’m so far away all the time.” 

“Oh, baby,” you start, cupping her cheek and running your thumb across it soothingly. She leans into your touch, and your expression softens. “All I’ve ever wanted is you. You’re everything to me, you know that? We can do this together, so long as you’re willing to try.” 

“I am.” She utters before pulling you in, sealing your new agreement with a kiss. Her lips move against yours gently, taking their time as they attempt to make up for her previous behavior. It’s soft yet urgent, a million different things passing between you without words. 

Suddenly, you pull back, and Jennie panics for a second. 

“Did you turn the burner off?”

“Oh shit!” She exclaims, a look of pure fear gracing her features. 

Just as that cold, prickly feeling of dread begins to spread throughout your body, she grins. 

“Yes, I did.” 

You roll your eyes and huff loudly at her, delivering a rough shove to her shoulder. 

“Don’t do that to me!” 

She responds by pulling you in again, kissing away your frown. “I love you, too, if you didn’t catch that earlier.” You declare, feeling her lips turn up in that beautifully iconic smile of hers. She hums at that, pulling you in closer just as the chilly wind blows again. Huh, maybe the universe had been listening all along.

Saranghae

Requested by Anon: “Can i make a request for Blackpink RoséXFem!reader one shot/imagine where y/n always thought she was the one that said I love you first but she realizes rosé said it in korean when y/n was first learning it the first few months they were dating. like rosé says it and y/n is like wait what does that mean? and rosé teases her and doesn't say anything (holy crap this is long, sorry. i hope that makes sense. I asked someone else if they can write it but I dont think they're going to) thank you very much if you do🥺❤️”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 2,300

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: To the anon who requested this: Thank you! This is actually a really sweet ask, so hopefully I did it justice. I stuck with the gist of the prompt, but I added a little twist to it. I hope you enjoy; let me know what you think. Happy reading, everyone!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

~~~ Flashback: A Few Months Into Your Relationship ~~~

“Baby, come grab the door, please!” You request, your hands busy holding the two steaming cups of hot cocoa you prepared for Rosé and yourself. At the sound of your voice, she sets down the notebook that she had been writing in, and makes her way to you. She appears in the doorway with a wide smile, her face lighting up when she spots the drinks. 

“How’d you know I wanted some?” She takes her mug from you, being careful not to move too quickly and spill it, and lays a kiss on your cheek -- her way of thanking you.

With a nonchalant shrug, you make your way across the room, saying over your shoulder, “It’s my superpower, duh. We’re just in sync like that.” The giggle that leaves her lips makes your heart flutter, and you can’t help but smile back.

Now armed with your beverages, the two of you sit back down on the floor next to each other, getting prepared for your mini lesson. The fluffy material of the carpet comforts you, and you settle in.

~~~~~~~

Rosé repeats the phrase one more time, slowing it down for you, enunciating the words as clearly as she can. Your gaze is set on her lips, taking note of how they purse and pout with the different syllables. You try again, albeit incredibly slow and choppy, but eventually the words manage to come out intelligible. She celebrates the win, quickly standing and pulling you up along with her for a victory dance; after all, it was a pretty tricky phrase for someone just starting out. She knows how competent you are though, and she wanted to give you a challenge. 

As the two of you stand there, doing a little dorky jig together, she takes a second to think. She is totally smitten with you: these past few months have been some of the happiest times of her life, and she owes a lot of that to you. There’s no one she’d rather have by her side like this, staying up well into the night to teach Korean to. She loves that you’re eager to learn more, and she’s ecstatic to be the one that gets to help you on that journey. It really is a special thing to her, and she doesn’t take it for granted. Time spent with you is heaven, regardless of what the two of you are doing. 

Rosé is pulled from her thoughts by the quiet sound of you yawning. Her heart nearly melts at the sight of your face all scrunched up, paired with the little wiggle that you do. She pulls you in, smiling as you nuzzle your face into her neck sleepily. “Rosé, I’d love to keep practicing, but I’m about to pass out.” Her hand comes up to run through your hair, the other one wrapped around your body to keep you close. “We should be going to bed anyway, babe. We can pick back up tomorrow, if you’d like.” She kisses your forehead tenderly as you just simply nod, your body too tired and brain too fried to do much of anything else. 

Once she’s tucked you in, making sure you’re comfortable and warm, she crouches down next to the bed. The lights are dimmed now, the only source of illumination being the moonlight that glitters in through the blinds, kissing your skin just right. Sitting there, face to face with you, she realizes that you’re her person. The one that she wants to wake up next to every morning and fall asleep wrapped around every night; the one to go on late night drives through the city with, stopping wherever your hearts desire; the one to hold through the bad times and comfort through the sad. You mean the world to her, and she can’t help but declare it.  

“사랑해, Y/N.” 

Despite only being half conscious, you’d never ignore the sound of her voice. “Mmm?” You mumble groggily, the noise making her laugh. She makes a mental note to add that to her list of favorite sounds. “Nothing, angel. Rest now.” With that, she goes to stand, but you catch her wrist before she can go. “No, tell me. Pleaaase?” Your eyes are open now, but just enough for her to see that beautiful sparkle in them. “Tomorrow. Now shhhh.” She leans down, placing a hand on your cheek to caress it, as she presses her lips to yours in an attempt to silence you. Her plan works, and she gives you a few more pecks before going to pick up and organize the books that were still strewn about on the floor. Not even a minute later, the sounds of your soft snores carry over to her ears, and she just shakes her head in amusement. 

~~~ The Next Day ~~~

“Alright, ready baby?”

“Do your worst.”

“Next up is… 사랑해.” Her eyes hold a hint of mischief, and you furrow your brow as you try to place where you’ve heard that. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Have you said this one before? It sounds familiar…” Now, deeply confused, you rack your brain. She plays innocent, though, having no intention of bringing up what happened the night before. With you being none the wiser, she’s content with teasing you for now. 

“Oh, that’s gonna drive me insane. Roseanne! What does it mean?” She chuckles at your frustration and use of her full name, but she doesn’t give in. Clearly, she gets a kick out of this. 

“Just start guessing, babe.”

~~~ Present Day, At The Blackpink Dorm ~~~

“Guys, I have the perfect game for tonight! Somebody was talking about it at the studio today: it’s called the Newlywed Game. I wanna see how well the lovebirds can do.” Lisa informs as she walks through the front door of the dorm, making her way into the living room where you and the girls are sitting. 

“Oh you’re on, Manoban. I know Rosé like the back of my own hand.” A smug expression takes over your features as you smirk at Lisa, standing up and playfully challenging her. 

“Oh yeah? Jennie and I are so gonna beat you.” She matches your energy, coming eye to eye with you, and she struggles to mask her grin. With the way she’s moving her lips to hide it, she kinda looks like a fish. 

Jisoo is next to speak as she goes to stand between the two of you, pretending to hold you back. “Hey, hey, break it up. Save it for the game.” Lisa sticks her tongue out at you, which prompts you to brush past Jisoo and tackle her onto the sofa. Jennie shouts, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” And soon, all of you are piled together in a heap of fake punches and throws, laughing loudly. 

{....} The Game {....}

“It’s neck and neck as our couples head into the final round; whoever wins this, wins the game.” Jisoo announces to no one, gesturing and looking to imaginary cameras around the room. “Contestants, are you ready?” Everyone nods in affirmation, and you give Rosé’s hand a loving squeeze. 

“Who was the first to say, ‘I love you’?”

At the question, you look to Rosé with a cocky expression on your face, absolutely convinced that you’ve got it in the bag. She scribbles her answer down on the white board -- yes, surprisingly, the girls had a few of them laying around the dorm -- and looks up at you with a smile. 

“Reveal your answers in 3...2...1…” Jisoo calls out in her best host voice, successfully creating suspense as she holds onto the numbers, dragging the count down out. 

“Now!”

Everyone flips their board around, and it seems as though time stops for a moment. Lisa and Jennie have the same answer, and you look to see what Rosé put -- despite being confident that you already know. Your jaw nearly drops to the floor as you read her name on the board.

“WHAT??” You exclaim, utter disbelief coursing through you: your whole life is a lie, it’s official. The other team is cackling by now, and you send them a mocking smile. 

Eyes now focused back on your partner, you say, “I totally said it first. Remember, that night after dinner with your parents back in Melbourne?” You hope something will click at that, her memory magically being jogged. Alas, that never happens. Everyone gets comfortable on the couches in preparation for the story she’s about to tell.  

“We hadn’t been dating super long, but it was when I was teaching you Korean back at your place. We cut the lesson short because you got sleepy, so I put you to bed. I couldn’t help myself though; you just looked so cute all cuddled up like that. I hadn’t expected for you to actually hear me, since I thought you had already passed out, but you asked me to tell you what it meant. I was stubborn and didn’t, of course,” You narrow your eyes at her, ready to stick up for your past self, but your heart secretly soars at how precious that story is.

“I love you, a lot, Rosé; but I hardly think that that counts, considering I was practically unconscious,” you say, putting emphasis on the word. The inner gamer in you is on full display, and you’re not ready to admit defeat yet. 

“Nope, we won, fair and square.” Lisa declares, exaggeratedly tossing her hair over her shoulder. You look to Jisoo, hands clasped together, eyes pleading, but she hands the victory to the other team. 

With a roll of your eyes, you tut at the loss; in no time, though, the feeling of Rosé’s arms snaking around you has you abandoning your little pity party, opting instead to smile at her. You pull her in for a kiss -- there’s no one you’d rather lose with, after all. Her lips turn up in a smile, and you can taste the cherry gloss on them. Eventually, the two of you decide to spare the others from your love-fest, and pull away. You keep an arm around her, your other hand busy being held by hers, and she lays her head on your shoulder. 

The playful atmosphere still stands, and Jennie goes to rub it in. “How’s it feel to lose, Y/N?” 

Dramatically, you look off into the distance, pretending to be in deep thought, before looking down at Rosé, and say, “With you, I can never lose; you’re the greatest prize I could ever ask for, Rosé.” The other girls let out a chorus of boos at your cheesy line, and Rosé lets out a little squeal as she scrambles to hide her blushing cheeks. With each laugh that she lets out, her body shakes against you, and you laugh right along with her. 

“Have I told you how adorable you are?” She asks, gazing up at you through her lashes. 

You purse your lips at her own cheesiness, and say, “Once or twice, I think. But tell me again.” 

Over the course of the night, she does just that -- multiple times, might I add -- and the 5 of you revel in each other’s company. Given their busy schedules, the opportunity to spend multiple hours with each other can be pretty rare; so, all of you thoroughly take advantage of the night. Karaoke sessions, Netflix binges, dance battles, food breaks, tickle fights -- anything you can think of, you guys probably did it. 

As things wind down, everyone is nodding off, and you take that as your cue to go. You remove your arms from their position around Rosé, the action drawing a whine from her, and you lay her back against the couch so that you can bid the girls goodnight.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” Jisoo says, voice laced with exhaustion, as she flips the small pillow in front of her over to the cool side. 

“Night, loser.” Lisa’s grin can be heard through her words, and you lightly smack her as you go by.

“Sleep well, Y/N. We love you.” Jennie is the most awake of any of them, and she reaches up to give you a hug. 

“Goodnight guys, we’ll see you in the morning.” Arms are thrown up into the air as a sign of acknowledgement to your statement, and you make your way back to Rosé.

She’s curled up against the side of the sofa, her hair falling gracefully over the armrest. Not having the heart to wake her up, you opt to scoop her up into your arms, smiling as she drapes hers around your neck. Her skin is warm against your own, and you take comfort in the feeling. Somehow she always manages to be so, so perfect, without even trying. As you make the journey back to her room, you’re careful to not bump into anything. She shifts a bit in your arms, and your heart nearly stops when she lazily mumbles your name in her sleep, a cute smirk on her lips. Nothing feels better than this.

Now in her bedroom, you slowly lean against the door until it shuts, and the soft sound of it latching behind you echoes across the silent space. You lay her down and pull the sheets up on her -- just as she had done that day, all those months ago -- and press a kiss to her cheek. “사랑해, Rosé.” As you climb into bed next to her, she rolls over to face you. A small smile plays on her beautiful lips as she says, “I heard that; I love you, too, baby.” A content sigh leaves your lips as you beam at her and pull her into your embrace. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for reading!!!

Don't You Know I Love You?

Pairing: Misty Day x Reader

Word Count: ~ 1,162

Summary: After you sustain an ankle injury, Misty decides to heal it for you. In the process, some hidden feelings surface, changing your relationship with Misty for the better. (This summary is kinda bad, but I promise the writing is better lol)

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff, Happy Ending

I envisioned a female reader as I wrote this, but there's nothing to stop a male / non binary / genderfluid person from feeling the love!

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first writing, and constructive criticism is welcome. Feel free to request, all I ask is that you have an idea of what you want. We can come up with something together if you're not too sure, no worries! As always, comments and feedback are much appreciated. I hope you enjoy! 😁

SPECIAL THANKS: I want to thank @imagines4thepeeps for encouraging me to post this and showing me the ropes!

●●●●●●●

"Misty, it's just a little sprain! Nothin' to get all bent outta shape over." You laugh incredulously, rolling your eyes at her. "You got hurt, and I'm not gonna just let you be in pain for no reason. Now just sit there and look pretty while I find the right spell." She replies, matter-of-factly. Arguing with Misty never seemed to go anyone's way except hers; she has a funny way of always sounding right and logical. So, you do what she said to. 

The soft hum of a Fleetwood Mac song moseys into the room, filling your ears with the sweet melody, making everything peaceful. You look around the room for something to occupy your mind, while she sifts through her book in the adjacent room; your attention is momentarily captured by the glass of sweet tea she brought you earlier, the condensation slowly dripping down it. As strange as it sounds, sitting there looking at the glass, you feel something swell within your chest. You love her. You'd known for a long time, and you'd had to come to terms with your feelings. The way she was just so gentle and good, never meaning harm or having wicked intentions like so many others you'd encountered before. She was perfect and pure, and you wanted nothing more than to protect and cherish her forever. 

And in your dreams, you did. They were wonderful, pleasant fantasies; they felt like that rush of warm summer air you feel as you step outside, into the sun. Or like the smell of sweet lavender as you ride your bike down the streets, feeling the light drizzle of cool water from your neighbors watering their gardens. It was warm and safe, and you never wanted to leave that place. But sadly, your reality is far different than that paradise. 

The sound of her voice calling to you pulls you from your thoughts. "--you alright? You were in your own little world there for a bit." She smiles, looking down at you. You can't help but do the same, the look on her face making your heart speed up. Whenever she paid you any attention -- however small it might be -- you were giddy. "Yeah, I'm good." You tell her, and you feel your walls begin to rise back up. "D'you find the incantation?" Her eyes analyze you for a moment before she answers you. "Sure did, sweet thang. I just need ya ta' sit up for me. Here--" she says, reaching out a hand. You take it, and she eases you up, before helping you lean back on the couch; she crouches at your feet. "Ya know Mist, I didn't injure my whole body... you're treatin' me like I'm fragile." Without missing a beat, she says, "Well you are, Y/N. That's why I love ya so much."

 Her words nearly knock the wind from your lungs. She loves you? Surely not like that. The way she said it so freely, so unafraid; those same words that you've been repeating to yourself for months, like a mantra, trying to find the right way to confess. And here she is, so gorgeous in the lazy, fading sunlight, simultaneously calming you down and making you nervous as hell. She quickly furrows her brow, looking up at you from her crouched position in front of you. Mustering up all the courage that you possess, you say, "I need to show you something." She just nods, reassuring you that she understands. You tenderly take her hand within your own, creating the physical bond required to show her your world. She gazes into your eyes, growing serious and curious all at once. "Show me, darlin'." 

With that, you begin. Warmth and radiance fills your senses, the dazzling aromas and sights following suit. You allow her to experience everything you feel when you see her; the giddiness, the excitement, the pleasure. It's unexplainable, but you manage to show her all of it; how protective you feel of her, how precious she is to you, all the things you never knew how to tell her on your own. Then, you let her in on some memories -- the main one being the first time you realized you love her. After that, you slowly release the bond, letting her get prepared for the juxtaposition of realities. Something drips down your cheek as you open your eyes; it’s a tear, and you wipe it away before she can see it. Her eyes stay closed for what feels like an eternity, causing you to sink down into the cushion and prepare for the worst. 

“Well... there ya go.” You let out a singular, nervous chuckle, before looking down and biting your lip. There was no way you could look her in the eyes as she rejected you. You sneak a glance at her, and find her eyes open; she has a gorgeous, awestruck look on her face. “That was beautiful.” She utters, sounding breathless. “I’ve never felt so accepted and loved before... why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You raise your head, meeting her gaze. “I was afraid. I mean, you’re so you and I’m just me. I could never measure up.” Instead of wasting oxygen on telling you all the reasons you’re wrong and she’s right, she leans forward and kisses you. 

It’s sweet and gentle, just like her, but it holds so much passion that you know you’d swoon if you were standing up. Her left hand cradles your head, and she moves to deepen the embrace. A few more alluring kisses later, you pull away and lean your forehead against hers and smile. “God, I never even imagined that this could happen. I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” You confess, feeling the weight lift off of your chest. “Me too, sugar.” She starts, pulling away further to look in your eyes. “Ever since that cookout we had months ago.” Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. “Really? That was only, like, the third time we’d seen each other.” She shrugged in her nonchalant way, saying, “It was enough for me. Part of me knew as soon as I met you. Another one of my traits, I guess. I felt a little pang of something when we first introduced ourselves... I just couldn’t tell what it meant at the time. But it’s clear now.” She says, running her fingers through some of your hair. “I love you so much. Almost as much as Stevie.” She whispers the last part in your ear, rolling forward and climbing beside you on the sofa. You gasp, shocked by her words. “I’m honored.” Your lips find hers, already accustomed to them. “I love you, too. I think we’ve established that, though.” She laughs loudly, and your heart soars. With your ankle forgotten about, the two of you spend the rest of the night together, tangled in each others arms, dizzy with excitement for the future.