Ive Got You

I’ve Got You

Requested by Anon: “Could I request a jennie scenario where her girlfriend is scared of water / swimming and jen calms her down like reader did in your ‘safe with me’ work?”

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,626

Warnings / Misc. -- Some Angst, PTSD / Flashbacks, Anxiety, Crying, 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 so much! I wrote it all in one go (at like 3am, mind you), and I had a blast with it. I took it a little more on the angsty side, but I really hope you guys enjoy it. Happy reading, let me know what you think!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Waking up in Jennie’s arms has always been a lovely thing, but something about this time seemed even more perfect than usual. Early morning sunlight glittered into the room, creating an almost dream-like haze, and some of the rays landed on her skin. She looked like an angel -- features slightly puffy with sleep, a small pout on her lips. Her head was against your shoulder, and her arms snaked around your waist, anchoring you close to her body. You always loved cuddling in close with her, the two of you keeping each other warm throughout the night.

Stealing a glance at the clock, you realize that the two of you almost overslept; the girls want to meet downstairs at the hotel’s restaurant in an hour. With that notion in mind, you know what you have to do; reluctantly, you gently shake Jennie to wake her up.

“Jennie, baby, we’ve gotta hurry or else we’ll be late.” 

She lets out a groan, her voice a bit gravelly, and ignores your words, opting to pull you in closer instead. 

“5 more minutes.” The words come out as a mumble, barely intelligible, but you grin. Jennie’s always been the type to sleep in when she can, and you can’t blame her; with as hard as she works, it’s completely understandable.

“Alright, but that’s it! We seriously have to get up after that.”

With a gentle nod, she snuggles into your side again, bringing a hand up to rest against your neck.

As your eyes rake over her delicate features, you start to recall the plan that all of you had decided on for the day. With the girls taking a break from practices and rehearsals to shoot a new show for their Youtube channel, you have plenty to do -- today’s agenda called for ziplining and mini golf, to be precise. Given how close you are with all of the girls, it’s no wonder that they were able to sweet talk their managers into letting you tag along for the ride. Of course, you’ll have to wait until they get all of the filming done to join in on their escapades, but regardless, you’re beyond excited to see them having fun.

With the 5 minutes officially over, you hatch a plan on the best way to wake Jennie up again. You start by gently rolling her onto her back, and proceed to pepper feather-light kisses all across her face. Soon, you feel her stir underneath you, her eyes fluttering open in the cutest way possible. Perhaps in an alternate universe, she worked as a Disney princess instead of an idol; she’s definitely qualified to be one.

“Hey cutie,” she says, voice laced with remnants of sleep, and pulls you in for a quick kiss. One of your arms is around her waist, with the other one propping you up so that you can look down into her eyes. 

“C’mon beautiful, let’s go.” 

Once she’s had a chance to rub her eyes and get adjusted to the light, you scoop her up in your arms and carry her to the bathroom. 

“Oh no, looks like we’ll have to shower together if we wanna make it on time…” Her eyes exude mischief as the words fall from her lips, and you play along. 

“What a shame.” 

She kisses you again, smiling widely against your lips, and the two of you start getting ready.

~~~~~~~  

“There you guys are! It sure took you long enough.” 

Both Jennie and yourself have to bite back your smiles. After a quick apology, the girls are already busy talking about what the day has in store.

“I know we’ll probably be tired after filming, but maybe once we get back here we can go down to the pool to unwind? I saw the spa, too; it looked really nice.” At Rosé’s innocent suggestion, you soon find your heart beginning to palpitate. Anything but that, you think to yourself, your mind already beginning to betray you with intrusive thoughts. 

You can’t blame her for proposing the idea -- after all, it’s a beautiful day outside, and the weather is perfect for swimming. But the problem lies deeper: you’ve never told any of them -- including Jennie -- about your fear of the water (swimming, to be exact). Even thinking of it makes you sick to your stomach, and you suddenly feel a bit overwhelmed. 

“I’m gonna run to the restroom, okay? Be right back.” 

As you stand, Jennie asks if you want her to tag along -- had she noticed your uneasiness? With a quick squeeze to her hand, you assure her that you’ll be fine, and you begin your walk. 

Once in the safety of the bathroom, you take a deep breath to steady yourself as your hands grip the marble surface of the countertop. Memories of that fateful summer day come flooding in, and you’re unable to push them away any longer.

It was a gorgeous day, the sun high up in the sky, shedding its heat down on everything below. Your family had decided to spend the day outside, grilling and swimming, the usual summer traditions that you held every year.

Delicious smells carried over from the food being cooked by your father, and you shouted praise to him from across the yard.

“Smells good, pops!” 

He yelled a thank you back, and your brother got your attention from his place beside you. 

“Wanna race in the pool?”

“You’re on, loser, but don’t cry when I beat you!” You throw him a smug look, and laugh when he shoves you.

“Yeah yeah, you’re going down!” He exclaims as he darts past you, getting a head start to the pool.

“Not fair!” You run after him and jump in, ready to wrestle him and make things even.

The water is cool against your skin, working in perfect contrast with the beams of sun shining down. You’re faced with a rude awakening, however, as you come back up to the surface: your brother is waiting on you, and he pounces. 

In the beginning, the wrestling match is quite fun; the two of you can’t contain your laughter as you push each other around, splashing water at one another. In no time, though, things take a tragic turn; with one particularly hard shove, you’re sent under, falling down the slope of the pool and towards the deep end. The slippery surface of the liner underneath your feet offers no grip, and soon you find yourself struggling for even a breath of air. 

Panic begins to spread throughout your body as you feel yourself losing control; oblivious to the gravity of the situation, your brother is still giggling -- he has no idea what’s actually happening. With each urgent thrash, you’re sent a little further away, out of reach of your brother. 

Shortly after he realizes you aren’t messing around, he attempts to help you. Seeing as how he’s only a couple years older and just a few inches taller than you, he’d also be struggling in the deep end. He soon discovers this fact as he reaches for you, only to almost go under himself. He knows he has to think fast and reassess his plan of action, so he jumps out of the pool and runs further down, closer to where you are. 

“Mom! Dad! Help,” he yells out, searching for something to throw to you. He spots a floatie nearby, and tosses it into the water near you. Unsure of if you can even really make out what he’s saying, he still tells you to grab it.

In a flash, your mother and father are next to him, terrified of the sight before them. Without hesitation, your father jumps in, successfully managing to grab your now limp body and pull you out of the water.

Your breathing is shallow, and your family begins to fear the worst. They shake your limbs in an attempt to wake you, but it doesn’t help. Your mother begins compressions, suddenly very thankful that she took those classes in the past, and your brother and father rush inside to call for help.

Despite it taking a few minutes, her actions are successful, and you come to. With a sputtering heave, you lean to side and cough up all of the water that had made its way into your lungs. Your mother pats your back and huddles next to you, tears streaming down her face. When the others return, they hurry to wrap you in their arms and embrace you. A few minutes pass as you all sit together, everyone happy that you’re alright. 

Being the person that you are, you decide to use humor to deflect and cope with the insanity that just went down. “Welp… that was something. Let’s pretend I won that match, okay?” You suggest, looking at your brother with a trace of a smile playing on your lips. He shakes his head at you, confused at how you’re already joking about it, but he laughs nonetheless. “No way!”

As the memories begin to leave your mind, you attempt to get a grip on yourself; surely you had been away for a bit, and Jennie would likely be coming by to check on you any second now. Grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser, you wet the edge of it, and wipe the sweat that’s formed on your forehead and neck. 

After drying yourself off and calming down, you exit the restroom and make your way back to the table. Jennie sends you a relieved look, as if to say, Thank God, I was worried. You manage to send her a fairly convincing smile, and she seems to accept it. Once seated again, she takes your hand into her own, rubbing her thumb in random patterns over your skin. You relax at the contact, and soon join back in with the conversation. 

~~~~~~~

“Today was so much fun! Remember when they dropped Jisoo in super fast? That was hilarious!” Lisa and Rosé cackle at the thought, whooping loudly with laughter. Jisoo proceeds to smack them on the arm in response, saying, “Oh yeah? Well at least I could actually get a hole-in-one when we golfed; Lisa missed the ball completely!” The maknae glares at the other girl for flaming her like that, but soon they’re all trading playful insults and goofing around.

You hung back a few paces, allowing them to have their fun while your mind drifted back to what would surely happen later that evening. As much as you hated keeping something as big as that from them, you were a bit embarrassed. Out of everything there is to fear in the world, yours is water? On top of that, you didn’t want to let them down or spoil their fun; they’d been looking forward to this little trip for awhile, and you didn’t want to keep them from swimming and having a good time. Completely lost in all of the negative thoughts vying for your attention, you failed to notice Jennie approach you. She had picked up on the scowl that fell across your features, your brows furrowed and lips drawn tight in a line. It was clear that something was troubling you, so she went to investigate. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Her words come out softly, a gentle request for you to share what’s troubling you. When you stay silent for a bit longer than she likes, she stops walking, and you subconsciously do the same. 

Releasing a sigh, your eyes cast away from hers, you respond, “It’s nothing, baby. I promise.”

For a moment, it seems like she’ll give in and accept your answer -- which, of course, is the one thing you desperately want. Knowing you better than that, though, she can see right through you; still, she decides to spare you this time. “I don’t believe that, jagi, but I’ll wait for you to tell me about it whenever you’re comfortable.”

“Thank you, Jennie. I will.” You wrap an arm around her, and she settles against your side as the two of you make your way through the hotel lobby. 

~~~~~~~

This was a mistake in every sense of the word. Why didn’t you just stay in the room and let Jennie come down with the girls? They all wanted you there, but surely you could’ve at least tried to talk your way out of it. 

The 5 of you scour the area surrounding the large pool, searching for a table and some chairs to recline in. Eventually, you see one in the distance, and lead the way there. With each new step towards your destination, the fear within you grows a little larger, and you wonder how hard it’ll be to keep pretending like you’re fine.

Once everyone has set their things down, they take their shoes off and begin to pull their hair up. You opt to sit down on one of the chairs and lay back, attempting to calm your nerves. 

“You’re not coming in, Y/N?” Jisoo asks, her head tilted to the side.

You retrieve a book from the bag you brought down and hold it up, saying, “I’ll just hang here and get caught up with some reading. You guys go ahead.” 

Jennie looks to you, but you simply open the book and pretend to be invested in the pages. Telling her about your fear is definitely not an option, especially at the current moment; if you do, you run the risk of throwing yourself into a panic attack. It’s all you can do to seem calm and collected right now, and you can’t afford to blow your cover like that.

She trails after the girls, albeit a bit dejectedly, and you release a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. Now able to take a moment for yourself, you look around: the evening is just as spectacular as the day had been before it, the deep colors of the imminent sunset lighting up the sky with their gorgeous patterns. Sunsets have always been one of your favorite things, so you take some time to enjoy the sight. 

Jennie steals glances at you from her spot in the pool, making sure to keep an eye on you. It isn’t hard to see that something’s bugging you, but she knows not to push you to open up; she’s always willing to wait for you. A smile tugs on her lips when she sees your face brighten as you look at the sky, and she wishes whatever’s plaguing your mind would just go away. You deserve to be happy like this, a smile on your sweet face, right where it belongs. She wishes she could take away all of your struggles. 

After a while, you’re now -- ironically -- invested in your book. The sound of Rosé calling for you draws your attention to the pool again, and you meet her eyes. “Y/N, my hair tie snapped. Do you mind bringing me one from my bag?” 

Your breath hitches; you weren’t prepared for that one. With a gulp, you nod to her and attempt to send her a smile. It’s not like you could just say no. Your fingers shake slightly as you rummage through her bag in search of one of the bands, and you work to center yourself again. You can do this. 

As you near the edge of the pool, your legs feel heavy, every step seemingly harder than the last. A strange sensation of numbness takes over your fingers -- something that almost always happens when you get this nervous -- and you subtly shake them to gain feeling again. “Here you go.” You manage to make the words sound cheery despite the inner battle you’re fighting. 

“Thank you, love.” At her reply, you return from the crouched position you had been in when reaching it to her, and you think you’re home-free. About three steps later, as you’re walking back to your seat, everything changes.

“Go long!” Another hotel guest shouts from your left.

Before you can realize what’s happening and get out of the way, a body collides with yours, sending you into the pool. It all happens within an instant, and you don’t even have time to hold your breath for the impact. You hit the water with a splash, liquid already shooting up your nostrils.

Your mind is reeling with memories of that day, sending you into a series of flashbacks as you scramble to get to the surface. Strangely, you feel just like you had that day: the panicky feeling seeping in with no signs of stopping, your lungs burning as they plead for air, the feeling of your limbs thrashing hopelessly at the water. 

Before long, two arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards the surface and side of the pool. You’d know those arms anywhere: they’re Jennie’s. She pats your back -- just as your mom had all those years ago -- and helps you cough out the water. Thankfully you hadn’t been under long, but it was still terrifying either way. The girls all trade scared looks as they do their best to comfort you and make you feel safe. Jennie can sense that you’re majorly overwhelmed, so she decides to take you somewhere that you can be alone and recover. 

Once out of the pool, she quickly wraps a towel around your trembling body and leads you into the hotel lobby, sitting you down on a secluded couch that’s tucked away from everyone’s view. You eek out a quiet thank you, even in the state you’re in, needing to let her know how much you appreciate her help. She sits down beside you, settling into the comforter, and pulls you up against her chest. Soft, soothing circles are rubbed against your back, her other arm keeping your body snug against hers. 

“It’s all gonna be okay, jagi. I’m here, you’re safe. I’ve got you, I promise.” Her lips are beside your ear -- she knows how distant things can sound to you when you’re having an attack. The hand on your back stops its motions; she brings it up your cheek, rubbing the skin there as you lay your head on her shoulder. Her lips press sweet, gentle kisses against your shoulder, and she thanks the universe when she feels you relax some. “I love you, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere.” Those words bring tears to your eyes, and some of them spill onto her arm; as she feels them, she almost starts crying with you. Seeing you upset like this always makes her emotional, but she does her best to stay strong for you.

“I’m sorry, Jennie.” Sobs rack your body, causing parts of the sentence to come out louder than others. 

“For what, baby?” She pulls back enough to look into your eyes, her hand still on your cheek, moving slowly. 

“That I didn’t tell you about what’s bothering me. I’m afraid of swimming; I had a traumatic experience with it in the past.”

“Oh, baby. It’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry. Do you want to tell me about it now?” Her words are so understanding and kind that you curse yourself for not telling her sooner. You simply nod in affirmation, and begin to relay the story. The entire time, her eyes never leave you, and she holds you close. Anytime a particularly hard detail for you to describe comes up, she strokes your hair and tells you to take as much time as you need. There’s no rush, and she makes sure you understand that.

Eventually, once you’re feeling loads better and are fully calmed down, you meet her gaze again. “Thank you for everything. I love you so much; I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you. You knew just what to do.” She smiles that earth-shattering smile of hers again, and if your heart wasn’t so tired from the time it just had, you know it would’ve skipped a beat. “That’s my job, baby.” Her eyes fall to your lips, in her unspoken request to kiss you. You grin, pulling her in closer, and connect your lips. She tastes like cherries and everything else that’s good in this world, and you revel in the fact that you’ll be the one kissing those lips for the rest of your life. The two of you part, both a little breathless as always, and you rest your foreheads together. “Let’s go see the girls.”

~~~~~~~

After many hugs, tears, and one long story later, all of you are in Lisa’s hotel room. The girls understood your fear and didn’t think any less of you at all; they wished, though, that you had told them sooner. They all want the best for you, and to see you happy, no matter what. Everyone is glad to see you doing better, and the mood is substantially brighter than it had been before. 

“Did Lisa tell you that she beat that guy up for bumping into you?” Rosé asks, a smile on her face.

Lisa’s expression shifts into anger at the mere thought of him, and she says, “He deserved it, I’m not gonna let anyone get away with that.” She shrugs her shoulders, and all of you laugh at the fact that she actually roughed him up a bit.

“Can’t argue with that,” Jisoo says patting your back tenderly and sending you a smile.

“And she’ll do it again, BOP BOP!” Lisa says, causing everyone to burst out laughing. Jennie rolls her eyes at the other girl and buries her face in your shoulder, seeking shelter from the cringe. 

“I love you guys.”

“We love you, too, Y/N.” They all say in unison… at least, as close as they can get to it.

Thanks for reading!!!

Too Late To Apologize?

Requested By @rosiesandlilies​: “I was wondering if I can request a Rosé x female reader story where Rosie is an idol who also happens to be ur wife and since she and BP are taking over the world by storm, she starts to forget about you and whenever u ask her to spend a little bit of time with you, she gets upset and fights with you. You’re also an important person but you always make time for her. Can it be angsty with fluff 🥰”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,026

Warnings / Misc: -- Angst, Self Doubt, Strained Marriage / Relationship, Crying, Some Swearing, Fluff

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

A/N: Oooooo lord, here we go. I am feeding 👏 you 👏 all 👏 today! This one took a while to write, but I’m pretty happy with it. I wrote it all in one go, starting at like 3am (as usual lol), so forgive me if it’s a little rough. I put a lot of effort into it, though, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for requesting -- Happy reading!

PS ~ I highly recommend that you listen to these songs as you read this:

You Were Good To Me -- Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

Surrender -- Natalie Taylor

The Night We Met -- Lord Huron

I Found -- Amber Run

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hongdae, Seoul  --  8:00 PM

“Good evening, everyone! Before I open the doors, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out of your day to stop in. We couldn’t have done this without your support, and we’re endlessly grateful. We hope you have a wonderful experience with us tonight. Now, without further ado, welcome to La Rêverie!”

To your amusement, the sizable crowd erupts into a fit of cheers once your opening speech is over. Echoes of the joyous sounds carry across the city, wiggling their way through the alleys and streets, bouncing off of the nearby buildings. The customers slowly filter in, greeting and congratulating you on their way; you’re beyond excited to start this new journey, and seeing people so happy to be a part of it only makes you more proud.

Eventually everyone makes it inside to their seats, and you join them.

--- Later That Evening ---

“Y/N, we have a private party that would like to see you. They’re eager to meet the woman behind all of this,” Pierre smirks, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. His demeanor confuses you slightly, seeing as how this isn’t the first time high profile celebrities have requested your presence -- that’s just one of the perks of being a world renowned chef. You brush off his remark as playful banter and send him to tell them that you’ll be out soon. 

---

“...yes, actually. Y/N and I were fortunate enough to meet when she was studying in Paris; we were being trained by the same chef. We’ve been close ever since. I’m not surprised that she hired me, though; I’m practically a master in the kitchen.”

At Pierre’s cocky words, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. A small grin plays on your lips nonetheless, and you smooth out your top one more time before rounding the corner. 

“What’s this idiot on about now? Did he tell you about the time that he nearly got kicked out of our mentorship program for giving Anthony Bourdain the wrong dish?” You ask the table, sending them a glance while ruffling his hair as you come up behind him. They all snicker at that, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes; with an annoyed shove, he scolds you for bringing that story up again.

“Must you always tell people about that?”

Your smile widens, spreading cutely across your face. Mocking him is one of your favorite things to do. “Mhm,” you say simply, nodding your head for emphasis. He attempts to hide his embarrassment, but it only brings a deeper blush to his cheeks. 

At the VIP table, the suppressed sound of laughter carries over to you, and you’re reminded of your reason for being here in the first place. Upon offering your full attention to the table now, no longer distracted by Pierre, you’re met with 4 different pairs of eyes on you. Warm, yellow light illuminates the area, the classy overhead fixture emitting a soft glow to cast down on the guests beautifully. It’s cozy and inviting, just like you had intended it to be, and the sight makes you happy.

As you quickly scan over each of the girls, your brain pieces together where you know them from.

“My oh my, it’s Blackpink themselves. To what do I owe this honor?” All of the natural charisma that you possess takes over now, doing its best to override your nerves. It’s definitely not the time to fangirl over them; you have to act cool. One by one, you shake their hands, making sure to give each of them a glimpse of your award winning smile. 

Jennie is the first to speak up. “Yourself, of course. You’re the talk of the town, Y/N, how could we miss this?” The way that she says it so casually, already skipping past the formalities, puts you at ease. 

“Ah, you’re too kind. Was your food prepared to your liking?”

A chorus of approving noises leaves the table, successfully boosting your confidence in the process. “It was truly incredible, Y/N.” Rosé gushes, her adorable accent adding something magical to the simple phrase. For the first time tonight, your mind goes blank; ever since news broke of your plans for this new restaurant, you practiced to avoid this very thing. As you stand there floundering for a beat, she takes notice of the effect that her words have on you; it doesn’t take long for her to realize how much she loves to make you blush.

“Thank you so much. We’re so glad to have you here tonight.” 

“We’re happy to be here! Rosé hasn’t stopped talking about it for the past week.” The Australian’s eyes go wide as Lisa exposes her, and she shoots the younger girl a shocked look. Lisa only smirks at this, her shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. Jisoo nods in confirmation, adding, “Yeah, she’s been super pumped.”

On the inside, you’re freaking out. Rosé was that excited to try out your creations? There’s no logical explanation for that one. Your own surprise is evident in your voice as you respond, “Oh really now? And why’s that?”

“I-I’ve just heard a lot of great things, you know? You’re pretty talented.” She tries to sound confident, but the stutter in her voice betrays her. The tips of her ears are burning with embarrassment, and after sending her yet another smile, you decide to spare her by changing the topic. 

“Well thank you, again. It’s truly a privilege to cook for you girls.” The conversation continues from there, effortlessly moving from subject to subject, and you love how welcome they make you feel. Occasionally you excuse yourself to check on the other guests and ensure that they’re enjoying their dinner, and every time, Rosé finds herself sorely missing your presence. Despite only officially meeting tonight, she feels like she’s known you her whole life. The two of you clicked instantly, and she can’t seem to get enough of you.

After spending the better part of 2 hours chatting and getting to know one another better, you grow bold and ask the question that’s been rolling around in your head all night. 

“Would you guys like to come back to the kitchen for a bit? I could give you some tips and we could make a couple dishes, if you want.”

Rosé nearly interrupts you from how eager she is to accept the offer. The second that you’re done asking, she’s already saying yes. The others happily agree as well, and soon you’re leading them to the back to get prepped.

_________

“Just like this, everyone. Cut thinly here,” you inform, using your knife to point to the areas in question, “...then turn it and follow through with the slices. It should come out diced, like so.” The girls observed your swift motions, peeking over at the small cubes once you’re finished. Things continue on like this for a while, and soon you’re halfway done with the veggies while they’re barely done with the first part of their batches.

“Slow down, Y/N! You’re too fast for us grandmas.” Jisoo jests, her voice bouncy with amusement. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll wait, just let me know if you need help.” Your knife comes to rest against the cutting board, and you take the opportunity to lean back against the countertop to watch them work. Your eyes trail over to Rosé, only to find her already looking at you; she tenses once she realizes she’s been caught, and she returns to her previous duties. You decide to tease her.

“Everything alright, Rosé? You seem a little distracted…” She momentarily shuts her eyes at your words, trying to refocus her thoughts and collect herself. A subtle snicker from Lisa can be heard, and Rosé delivers a quick jab to her arm. The maknae lets out a little “oww” before setting her things down to rub away the newfound soreness of her arm. 

A little later, Jennie requests some assistance, prompting you to make your way over to her. The station that she’s working at just so happens to be next to Rosé’s, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t thrill you. 

“Do we peel this first or leave it on?” 

“Cut the ends first, then slice it in half and remove the outer layer.”

Under your watchful eye, she follows your instructions and is soon back on track. She thanks you, and you bring your hand up to give her a pat on the back. Although she feels childish for it, the action works to make Rosé the tiniest bit jealous; she wants your attention on her. 

The blonde clears her throat before speaking up. “Y/N, I need a little help, too.” Your heart jumps at her words, and you fight hard to keep yourself in check as you spin around to face her.

“Of course, Rosé.” She sighs at the way her name rolls off your tongue, and she’s completely convinced that you’ve secretly put her under some type of spell. Her thoughts of you and your mysterious ways are interrupted when you come to stand next to her, your hip lightly brushing against hers. 

“Oh, well there’s your problem: you’re holding the knife wrong. Here,” you start, reaching out to reposition her hand in a better spot. Now she’ll be able to control it better, and she won’t run the risk of cutting herself.

“Better?” You ask innocently, missing the way that she bites her lip. The close proximity of your bodies is making her head spin, and she can’t decide if she wants you to stay or go. “Yes, thank you.” She looks like she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t, so you take that as your cue to go check on the other girls. Rosé silently curses herself for missing that golden opportunity to flirt with you, but she takes solace in the fact that she catches you stealing glances her way fairly often. You feel the connection too, and she’s pleased with that -- maybe she was doing something right after all.

The next stint of the night is spent preparing and cooking the dishes you promised them while trading jokes, banter, and teasing remarks. A mini food fight also took place, but for the sake of professionalism you won’t mention that. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

---- 

“Goodnight girls. I hope you come by again sometime soon!” 

They all assure you that they’ll be back before you know it, and you believe them. After all, they gobbled those dishes down like they hadn’t eaten in days -- it’s safe to say that they enjoyed them.

Rosé lingers in the doorway, eyeing you as you work to clean off the counter. She doesn’t want to go; she’s loved getting to hang out with you. Contemplating her options, she decides to be brave; she tells the girls to go on ahead, that she’ll be there in a minute. 

“Rosé, did you forget something?” You ask, looking up at her as you reach forward to wipe any remaining debris off the sleek surface.

“Yeah, your number.” Somehow, she possesses all the confidence in the world now, her new demeanor completely opposite to its previously shy counterpart. 

You tilt your head at her, a dumbfounded smile parting your lips ever so slightly. “Bold, are we? Alright, I’ll bite.” You say, holding a hand out for her to give you her phone. Her eyes widen a bit -- was she not expecting you to say yes? There’s no way you could turn down a chance like this. She fumbles around in her bag until the smooth screen of her phone comes into contact with her fingers, letting her know she’s found it.

“Here you go,” she chuckles cutely, an adorable little pattern of blush rising to her cheeks again. 

After entering your number, making sure to save the contact and even take a goofy picture of yourself for it, you give it back to her. “Call me anytime, love.” Her smile spreads even farther at the pet name, and she ducks her head to hide her reddening cheeks.

As she slowly approaches the door, walking backwards, she says, “I will… love,” offering you a little awkward salute at the end of it. You giggle at her antics, and soon bid her goodnight. 

No more than 5 minutes later, your phone dings as it displays a notification from an unknown number. 

“I’m usually not that awkward 🤦‍♀️ pretty girls just make me nervous.” The message makes your heart flutter, and you quickly save her number to your contacts. 

“Really? We have yet another thing in common, then.” 

The girls watch as Rosé does a little victory dance in her seat, her movements a bit limited by the belt stretched across her body. She’s practically glowing with excitement, her fingers already firing off another reply.

________

3 Years Later -- Rome, Italy

Upon seeing Rosé saunter down the aisle, your emotions get the jump on you; before you can stop them, tears flow freely down your face, and you bring a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. She looks bruisingly beautiful: the natural curves of her body are accentuated by the silky material of her dress, and her shoulders are covered in lace. An angel cast down from the heavens above. 

She smiles at the audience that’s filled with your close friends and family, offering little greetings as she passes them. Once she and her father make it to the altar, he pulls you in for a big hug, a few tears escaping his eyes. After he takes a step back, he looks between the two of you with pure pride on his face, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

The song ends, signalling for the two of you to join hands and face each other, and he returns to his seat. 

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of Y/N L/N and Roseanne Park. Two souls destined to find their way to one another, travelling millions of miles in the process. We come together to revel in this fact and send them into their new life together with all of our support.” The officiator says into the microphone, smiling at the two of you. You can tell he loves his job, and he’s damn good at it. 

Rosé’s grip on your hand tightens as she tries to contain her tears, but you’re quick to assure her that it’s alright. “You can cry, baby.” At your words, her lip is released from between her teeth, and her tears begin to flow. You wipe them away, stepping closer to rest your forehead against hers. 

The ceremony continues on and the two of you recite the personal vows you wrote. Somehow, unbeknownst to you, there doesn’t seem to be a limit to how much you can cry in one sitting. Rosé is having the same problem, seeing as how her makeup is smudging some as the tears wash the substances away. You don’t care though, and you make it a point to remind her of that; she’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“I do.” You choke out, beaming at her as you run your thumb across her knuckles.

“I do.” She responds, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits for those final words from the officiator. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

Her lips are on yours before he even finishes the phrase, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she pulls you in closer. Your lips move with hers in perfect time, working to seal your union in the best way possible. “I love you, forever,” she whispers against your lips. 

____

Present Day, 1:17 AM

In order to spare you from the overwhelming sadness that you’re being subjected to now, your brain takes you back to those happy times from the past. When Rosé still made time for you; when she loved you. 

Even though you hate it, you still find her in everything. The bright sunshine of the early morning reminds you of all the times she would wake you up with kisses, holding you close. The songbirds outside of your window bring to mind when you’d come home to find her at the piano, alternating between striking the keys and strumming her guitar as her beautiful voice carried out across the house. 

You miss that Rosé, so, so much. The Rosé that would call you in between sessions at the studio, if only for 5 minutes. The Rosé that longed to hear your voice after a long day; who fell into your arms the second that she shuffled through the door after practice. 

As time has passed, though, she’s seemed to fade more and more from your life; missed calls and texts have become a given, and it takes everything in you to mask your sorrow. Anyone who knows you well at all can easily see through the facade: you’re now a shell of who you once were, your normally vibrant and cheery self gone. You attempt to hide your sadness behind a smile, but it never really works out; your eyes don’t shine like they used to, and your lips don’t quite tweak up at the corners in the special way they had before. 

But you’re getting ahead of yourself again. Your reason for crying tonight is simple: for the hundredth time this month, she’s cancelled your date night plans, opting to spend the time working instead. The argument that the two of you had earlier replays in your mind:

"I don't have a choice."

Except, she did. She could choose you, choose to take a break, if only for the evening. You never ask too much of her, knowing that she can't handle even more stress competing with what she already has from the company and media. Being an idol is hard enough, and you know you can never fully wrap your head around everything that's expected of her.

Though, that makes this all the more ridiculous. All you've asked for is a couple hours of her time -- for her to relax with you and get away from it all. Earlier that day you had gone to the store and picked up all the necessary materials to treat her to a little spa day, complete with bath and body oils, face masks, and even some bath bombs. 

"Asking my wife to spend an evening with me is not unreasonable, Rosé."

"I'm not having this argument again, Y/N. I get enough shit from everyone else; I don't need any extra from you."

Maybe it was something in how she said it, so final and hateful, her face coming to rest in a scowl. Her arms were crossed as she stood in front of you, and you could see the muscles in her jaw clench and release repeatedly. In some twisted way, part of you was glad to have this encounter; it hurt like hell, but at least she was paying attention to you. She hadn't looked at you for this long in a while.

Before you can even get another word out, she sighs, saying, "I don't have time for this. I have to go back to the studio." 

Just as she turns to go, you catch her wrist. With a slightly annoyed look, she turns to face you.

"If you walk out that door then I'm leaving; at least for the night. We need to talk about this, but if you don't care enough to even give me that, then…" you trail off, tilting your head slightly. You want her to apologize, to say how wrong she's been for doing all of this to you -- but she doesn't. Her expression is tired, irritation written plainly for you to see. She pulls her arm away, offering a petty, "Oh well," with a shrug before exiting the house. 

How could she be so cold? Maybe that's what hurt the most. Seeing the love of your life turn into someone completely different than who you fell for stung more than any argument ever could. The reality is that she's not the same person anymore. Accepting that would be half of the battle in and of itself. 

Your heart is betraying itself, stuck in a sticky situation: you're constantly struggling between your love for her and the respect you hold for yourself. Half of you wants to stay, to make her listen and fight for this; but the other half of you, perhaps the more rational side, knows that that won't work now. You've tried that already, you reason with yourself, racking your brain for any new way to get through to her. 

Sometimes it's like she forgets all of the sacrifices you make for the relationship. Despite having your own busy schedule to deal with, you always make time for her. So why could she never do the same for you?

It's obvious that in its current state, this relationship is only wrecking your mental health -- a testament to that is every night you've spent lying awake, sobbing into your pillow as your list of insecurities grows longer and longer. She used to be the person you'd run to when negative thoughts plagued your mind, her sweet words of love showing how much she valued you. But all of that's gone now, leaving you with a shattered heart and racing mind. When had you stopped being enough?

~~~~~~~

It’s late, well past 4AM when Rosé manages to make it home. Practice absolutely wrecked her today, leaving her body exhausted from dancing and throat sore from all the singing she had to do. She’s more than ready to collapse into bed and pass out. 

One thing that always stayed the same was your sleeping arrangement. No matter how much Rosé hurt you, you still slept in the same bed. Her subconscious was always kinder to you than she was, anyway; the two of you would cuddle in close like before, her arms wrapped around you as she slept peacefully. No arguments or yelling, you could always count on the nights to heal your heart a little bit. 

As she enters the empty bedroom, the memory of your argument from earlier that day comes flooding back. She remembers that you said you were leaving, but part of her didn't fully believe you. She should've known better -- you always keep your word. Guilt washes over her, and she gently taps her head against the wall as a sort of self-punishment for her previous actions. Why did she say that to you? The hurt look in your eyes broke her heart, but she couldn’t afford to skip practice, especially with the comeback quickly approaching. In retrospect, she should’ve just told you that she didn’t feel prepared, and that’s why this practice had been so important. Even though she doesn’t show it, you still mean the world to her. She just so happens to be her own worst enemy. 

With a heavy sigh, she makes her way to the bathroom; there she finds a cute little basket of goodies next to the tub, and a note on the counter of the sink. She approaches the basket first, quickly discovering that it holds some of her favorite self-care items from the local store. Yet again, a deep pang of guilt courses through her upon realizing that you had prepared that for her. Defeated, she picks up the note. 

Roseanne,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve already left. I don’t want you to worry, if you even still care enough to do that, so I decided to leave this letter for you. I’ll be staying with my friend for the next while. I don’t know how long, but that depends entirely on you. I’ve tried to communicate with you, but we’re getting nowhere; we both know it. We’re not who we used to be, Rosé, and I hate that. I want us to be happy again, but it seems that I can’t do that for you. If you want to end things, let me know. 

- Y/N

Rosé’s heart is breaking, splintering into a million different pieces and leaving her with no possible way to collect them all. How had she so royally fucked this up? She only has herself to blame, and she knows that; she can’t believe that she let things get like this. She had been so blinded by the stress that she lost sight of the most important thing in her life: you. It’s slowly sinking in that she very well might lose you for good this time, and she doesn’t know how to cope with that. She can survive without her career, but she knows she can’t go on without you.

-----  La Rêverie, 2 Weeks Later -----

She only intended to walk by -- to see if you were there and safe. But as she gazes through the windows, peeking into the place that houses so many of her dearest memories, she’s transfixed. Her eyes land on you, finding you hard at work in the kitchen. It’s always been where you go when you’re stressed or upset about something -- two things that Rosé knows she’s the cause of.

You’re in your element, face donning a look of pure concentration as you prepare what she assumes is a new dish. Your hair’s in a bun, a few strands coming down to fall around your face as you move about. Gravity takes its time in gently coaxing them out of the tie's hold, and Rosé’s breath hitches at how beautiful you look; it’s as if she’s falling for you all over again. She’s always admired your skills, but they hold a whole new meaning now, an unspoken tension in every movement you make. 

How had she been so selfish? You had been there for her all along, waiting patiently for the day that she would come to her senses. You would always have dinner ready -- usually one of her favorites, hoping that would spark something again -- but she always brushed you off. She never stayed long enough to see the crushed look on your face, or how the pain was becoming clearer and clearer by the day. She realizes now just how much of a toll her actions have taken on the both of you; you're still just as breathtaking as ever to her, but that special sparkle in your eye has long been eclipsed by something more dull. You're tired of being let down repeatedly, stuck in a constant loop of excuses and avoidance, and Rosé can't blame you for a second.  

The time apart hasn't been kind to her at all; there hasn't been a single day that's gone by where you haven't consumed her thoughts. She misses you so badly it hurts, and even now, despite being so close to you, separated only by the walls of the restaurant, you've never been further away. 

The distant sound of a car alarm cuts through the silence, simultaneously scaring her and drawing your attention. Before you can spot her, she ducks down; there’s no way that she can face you yet. Taking this as a sign, she decides to leave.

She’s spent the past 2 weeks attempting to spare you by not coming around; she thinks you need time away from her to deal with everything she’s put you through, and she doesn’t want to upset you anymore than she already has. Ever-torn, part of you is glad that she’s stayed away; however, another part of you just wants to see her again. You miss the nights more than you thought you would. 

--- A Few Days Later ---

Steady sheets of rain pound harshly against the window, vibrating the latches with each gust of wind. Times like these are always the worst, especially when you don’t have Rosé to calm you down. Violent thunderstorms never fail to frighten you, and this one in particular seems like it’ll be the worst one of the season. Swiftly padding over to the window, you sneak a quick peek outside, only to find the branches of the large oak tree that occupies the yard swaying in the wind with reckless abandon. The sight terrifies you, but you do your best to keep yourself from panicking, even having to do some breathing exercises. Your friend can sleep through anything, and you know she needs the rest; so, you stay in the spare bedroom that she’s so graciously allowing you to reside in, and lie awake. 

Across the city, Rosé is tossing and turning. The storm hasn’t fully reached its peak there yet, but she knows how worried you must be. Tears spring to her eyes at the thought of you huddled up under the covers, body trembling in fear as the storm rages on. The deep-rooted shame that she’s grown so accustomed to since you left plagues her conscience, making her even more disgusted with herself. 

After turning over yet again, her eyes land on the picture she has of the two of you propped up on the nightstand. It was taken on your wedding day, that stunning view of the venue paling in comparison to your beauty. A sense of determination washes over her -- determination to make you that happy again someday, in whatever way she can -- and she gets out of bed to collect a few materials. She’ll do whatever it takes.

----

The sound of a car door slamming perks your ears up, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quickly pulling the curtain back, you’re beyond shocked to see Rosé out there, holding something in her hand. Just as you lean in closer to the window to try and see what it is, her caller ID pops up on your phone. 

“Come downstairs, please.” 

Even with the vast array of emotions coursing through you at the moment, you’re only focused on getting her inside and out of harm’s way. 

You nearly knock the door off its hinges with how quickly you snap it open. To your surprise, she’s still standing by her car, but now you can see what she was holding before; a white sign with black writing on it. The words are barely legible with how much it's raining, the dye of the marker horribly smudged, but you can make out: “I’m sorry! I’m an idiot.” It’s like something out of romantic drama.

Before you can even comment on everything that’s happening, Rosé begins the speech that she’s been trying to piece together ever since you left. 

She has to raise her voice so you can hear her over the storm. You wonder why she doesn’t just come in, but you think that maybe she’s doing it to show you that she’s willing to punish herself by standing out in the elements. “No words that I say will ever be able to fix the pain that my actions caused. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, and I hate myself for being such a coward. I was too immature to look past my own struggles and just talk to you about them.” 

Now, she takes a few cautious steps towards the front door, testing the waters as she scans your face to gauge how you’re feeling. “I guess I just thought I could deal with it like I always do. But losing you showed me how wrong I was; I love you so much, Y/N. I don’t want to end things; I’ll never want that. You’re my world, baby; I’m so sorry that it took me this long to see what was right in front of me.” 

How are you to respond to that? Can you trust her? She looks more sincere in this moment than she has in a long time, and that puts you a little more at ease. Her eyes are begging -- pleading -- with you to believe her, and after a moment you step to the side, wordlessly telling her to come in. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until a few stray tears drip onto your shirt, leaving little marks in their wake. She has to restrain herself from reaching out and wiping them away; she has no idea when -- or if -- you’ll be able to forgive her. 

Soft pitter-patter of the water running off of her coat echoes lightly across the foyer, serving as white noise for the conversation you’re having. Her sniffles work in tandem with it, and she bites back her sobs in order to get the words out. 

“I know this won’t be fixed overnight, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me. I won’t blame you for a second if you can’t forgive me, either. I just couldn’t let you get away without a fight.”

With each new fresh batch of tears that settle in your eyes, you have to work twice as hard to blink them away. “I-I don’t know what to say, Rose. You’re the only person in this world capable of hurting me that badly, because you mean more to me than anyone else. But I never thought you’d treat me like that. Do you know how many times I doubted myself, thinking I did something wrong?” Your tone is bitter now, voice conveying the pain from those months of anguish that you had to endure, and Rosé hangs her head. 

“I know that now, Y/N, and I know that I can never take it back. But God, how I wish I could. I’d do anything in my power to take that pain away. It was never your fault; none of it was.”

You know she’s being honest. After seeing the opposite for so long, it’s easy to spot when she’s telling the truth. You nod a couple times, deciding to pull her in for a long-overdue hug. She’s motionless at first, not quite knowing if you want her to return it or not, but the second that you quietly say, “Hold me, Rosé,” she’s scooping you up in her arms like her life depends on it. Her head rests in the crook of your neck, and the two of you cry together, letting all of the pent up frustration and sadness leave your bodies. 

After standing there, embracing one another for who knows how long, she pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. Her gaze subtly falls to your lips, but you don’t fail to notice. “Can I?” She asks gently, raising her eyes back up to yours. “Yes.” You utter, nearly swooning as her soft lips brush against your own. You’ve missed them. 

Her chilled hands cup your cheeks with purpose, and you can feel water running off the ends of her hair and onto your chest.

She kisses you in such a poetic way: softly, as if you might break at any moment, but urgently, like a lost soldier finally returning to the arms of their lover. She wants to make you feel how sorry she is, how much she loves you, and this seems like the perfect place to start.

“I love you, jerk,” you say through your tears, brushing your thumb along her cheek as you look into her eyes.

“And I love you, angel.” She picks you up, spinning you around a couple of times before setting you back down on your feet. 

After a moment, you glace at the window. “Shhhh, wait. Do you hear that?”

She cocks her head to the side as she listens closely for any potential noise that you might be talking about, but she hears nothing. “No? I don’t hear anything…” 

“Exactly; the rain stopped.”

“Huh. I guess it did its job, then.” She smiles, silently thanking the universe for working in its wonderful ways. It brought the two of you back to one another, and neither of you can contain your happiness. Maybe you don’t hate storms as much after all...

Youth With You

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,113

HC Count: 31

This is a mix between headcanons and a one shot

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff, Little Hot & Heavy, (Public) Teasing, Happy Ending

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

A/N: Hey everyone! Here’s my first writing for Lisa; I’m pretty proud of it! Feel free to let me know what you think. Happy reading, I hope you enjoy!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Becoming a new trainee was terrifying in every sense of the word. The media, the practices, the tests -- everything. 3 months into your coaching, however, things hit an all time high: you gained the opportunity to enter the competition Youth With You, as an independent trainee. Your freedom and right to expression was important to you, so it wasn’t an accident that you were going in independently. A company would only put pressure and bans on you, restricting your creativity and keeping you from being your most authentic self.

Finding out that Lisa was a mentor only made your nerves worse; at the same time, though, you’d never been more excited for something in your whole life.

Having friends in the industry proved to be an important factor as you prepped for the show. Producers and managers gave you advice, knowing exactly what each of the teachers looked for and demanded from their groups. You worked tirelessly to ready yourself for the whirlwind that was sure to come.

When you arrive at the production building, you’re in awe; the interior is ginormous, with insanely high ceilings and huge doors. Everything is coated in various colors, all of them pristine and beautiful. The labyrinth of halls that winds throughout the building before you is quite intimidating, but you take a deep breath and remind yourself of your reasons for being here. It’s far too important to chicken out now.

The staff had tipped you off to the fact that the mentors would be there today, but they neglected to tell you when. You had surely expected them to come in after everyone got settled. Alas, you were sorely mistaken; thus, you can imagine the surprise that etched into your features upon entering the main room.

Ella and Kun were invested in their papers, flipping through the stacks and whispering to each other; Jony J was turned to his right, chatting with Lisa. Your presence was announced by the rather loud thud that echoed through the room at the closing of the door.

The bright lights nearly blinded you as you turned to face them again, dread creeping into your mind.

“Hello everyone, I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The words came out cooler that you had expected, and you patted yourself on the back for remaining so calm. You’re known for managing to hide your nerves well and remain professional, but that’s no easy task with this group of talent. Especially her.

You purposefully tried to avoid looking at her, knowing you’d blush and get majorly sidetracked. You feared you wouldn’t be able to recover from that.

“I see that you’re an independent trainee,” Kun said, a smile spreading across his lips. You swallowed at the sight, knowing the questions were about to come rolling in. “Yes, that’s correct. I prefer working alone; I only have to rely on myself.” He studies you, head tilted to the side as he considers your answer, and you nearly melt under his astute gaze. “I was the same way. It’s never easy, but the mentors and I will be right beside you during your time here.” Knowing that these 4 amazing people were here to share their experiences and guide you through your troubles made the task at hand much less daunting, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Despite the intensity of the competition, you felt at ease, knowing they genuinely want the best for you.

“Ah, look at that face! So cute,” Ella coos, grinning back. You hide your face behind your hands, embarrassed beyond belief. Everyone chuckles at the sight, and you join in. With the atmosphere officially comfortable, you allow your eyes to trail over to Lisa. To your surprise, she’s already looking at you, lip between her teeth. 

“I see that you have 2 special talents listed.” Lisa starts, leaving room for you to elaborate. “Yes ma’am. While studying abroad in my youth, I learned 3 languages in addition to my native English.” The mentors look pleasantly surprised, and you continue with your other skill. “My mother is a professional chef, and we’ve always been close. She’s trained me over the years, and that’s something I’m very thankful for. During my time away from home I was fortunate enough to learn new techniques and styles from across the world.”

As you finish talking about yourself, you look to each and every one of the judges separately. You know it’s important to have a good connection with all of them, and you use this chance to do just that.

Upon locking eyes with Lisa again, your breath hitches. The light blush that rests on her cheeks, combined with the look she’s giving you, is enough to make you swoon. It’s innocent enough, the way she’s watching you; after all, she can just blame it on her role as a teacher -- she has to get a good understanding of her students. However, though, behind the innocent facade lies a much more sensual reason for her behavior. You don’t miss the way her eyes rake up your body, nor her smirk as she notices your hands mindlessly toying with the band of your shorts. You do your best to keep your attention on the others as they ask you questions about your resume, but that’s easier said than done.

Once they’ve finished with their questions, they invite you to take a seat anywhere you’d like. Despite your desire to book it next to Lisa, you don’t want to be impolite; that’s also not to say that you didn’t enjoy the company of the others -- you truly did. Clearly, though, no one can compare to Lisa.

You give them all another smile, the dimples of your cheeks on full display, and approach them one-by-one to shake their hands. They appreciate the gesture, and you’re confident that you’ve won them over that much more.

As you make your way to the seat beside Lisa, your heart beats wildly. It’s difficult, but you manage to suppress your anxiety for the time being. Letting your control slip now is definitely not an option.

In contrast to the heated look she had been giving you just moments before, Lisa now dons an adorable smile that nearly makes your heart burst. In the moment, you almost reach forward to touch her puffed out cheeks. 

You sit down beside her, and she takes a minute to look you over again. It’s baffling how she can go from so wholesome and adorable to flirty in such a short period of time. 

As the time ticks on and the mentors work through the list of contestants, the two of you continue to steal conversations and teasing glances.

Things are ramped up, however, when Lisa’s hand finds its way to your thigh, settling there for a bit. You attempt to push the intrusive thoughts from your mind, but they come flooding back the second she leans in to whisper something into your ear.

“You look gorgeous,” she tells you, warm breath fanning over your neck. Her slight accent only adds to the effect that her words have on you. All you can offer is a breathless thank you, thoughts completely jumbled at having the stunning woman do such things to you.

Before anyone can get suspicious, she backs off. The disappointment must’ve been evident, because she chuckles lightly and pats your knee in response. Thankfully no one had been paying you two any mind.

~~~ Practices ~~~

It wasn’t often that you came into the studio upset or exhausted, considering you knew you’d soon be cheered up once you saw Lisa, but she made sure to take care of you when those times came around. She could read you like a book, easily knowing when you’d had enough and needed a break. That’s not to say that she lowered her standards, though -- she was firm and demanding, but she checked on you often. She respected all of her students, but she couldn’t deny that she had a soft spot for you. You lived for her soft gaze and gentle touches on the days you needed them most.

Other days, though, you got a kick out of teasing her; playing dumb, purposefully missing steps, ignoring her instructions -- anything to pull a reaction from her. 

          ↪“Eyes forward,” she would call out, voice strong, upon catching you talking to a fellow trainee when you were meant to be practicing. Her jaw would be set, eyes menacing.

          ↪“You keep messing up. Here,” she’d declare, demonstrating the moves directly in front of you. She knew exactly what to do to get you going, and sometimes your plans backfired a bit.

          ↪Those times that you’d play dumb were by far the best, both of you secretly loving the back and forth of it all. “I’m sorry, miss. I just can’t seem to get the moves right.” You’d say, appearing innocent and sweet all the while. It was hard to contain yourself when she’d approach you from behind, pressing her body against your own. “One here,” she’d inform, placing your hand on your hip; “...and one here,” she’d finish, correcting your position once again. When the music restarted, she counted next to your ear, keeping time as her warm hands held yours, guiding you through the positions.  

And of course, the majority of the time, you were a great student for her. Her praise had a mighty effect on you, and there existed a mutual love for it. Being a strong dancer often worked in your favor.

~~~ Performances ~~~

Anytime you were set to perform, Lisa made sure to settle in and get ready to enjoy herself. The two of you had spent many weeks getting to know each other better, growing closer in the process. She found you captivating, and always loved to watch you on stage. The same can be said for you; seeing her dance was always the highlight of your day.

The two of you made sure to play things up, having a knack for getting the other riled up and squirming in their seat.

Watching her cool demeanor falter and ultimately crumble before you was one of your favorite things in the whole world. One of its only rivals was how she had to attempt to conceal it, knowing the cameras would be on her often. 

“I-I loved it. I’m very proud of you, Y/N.”

You smirked at her stutter; no one else was capable of making her blush as much as you did

~~~ Bonus: Backstage ~~~

“You all did so well. I loved that dance break in the middle of the song.” You gushed to a group of your fellow contestants, smiling at how happy they were. Over the course of the competition you had become something of a “celebrity” yourself, noticing that the other girls would always approach you for help and get giddy when you agreed. Not to mention that the mentors were always proud of your progress and dedication to the craft. The conversation continued, and you settled into a comfortable rhythm; everyone taking a turn to share their favorite part of their performance. Seeing these girls -- your friends -- so proud of themselves was a wonderful thing. Everyone worked so hard, day in and day out, to put forth their best effort in everything that they did. Celebrating each other’s wins just felt right, despite the fact that this is a competition. It always hurt to see anyone go home, considering you spent so much time getting to know each other. These were the people who were there for you when you needed it most; all of you know how hopeless it can feel, and you wanted to protect the others from that in every way possible. 

“Y/N!” The sound of someone calling your name pulls you from the conversation, and you send a quick bow and goodbye to the girls before departing. 

Your eyes travel across the crowded stage, searching for the source of the noise. You spot Lisa looking at you, hand beckoning you towards her. A familiar warmth spreads across your body at the action, and you don’t even attempt to stop the smile that takes over your features.

“Yes?” You ask sweetly, approaching her. Her hands slip into yours, fingers lacing in a sweet embrace. “I want you to come to my dressing room once everyone goes back to the dorm. You impressed me tonight, but you still have some things to learn.” As that last sentence falls from her lips, your blood runs cold. Her voice had dropped lower, and you feared what she meant by that. Had you mixed up the choreography without realizing it? Surely not. The only thing you were sure of in that moment was the way she was studying you, almost intimidatingly. Her jaw was set, eyes narrowed, and you swallowed thickly upon noticing this. “Of course. I appreciate the feedback.” She smiled, seemingly pleased with your answer.

With a swipe of her thumb across your knuckles, she was gone.

A sigh left your lips, your mind racing at all of the possible things to come.

~~~ Bonus: A Private Meeting ~~~

“You wanted to see me, Lisa?” You announce upon entering the room and shutting the door behind yourself. The two of you had long ago left the formalities behind, opting instead to be on a first name basis. It was much more intimate, and you preferred things to be that way with her. Of course, occasionally you would use her official title just to get a certain reaction out of her. Slipping it into conversation when around the other instructors always worked to get her attention and catch her off guard. It was easy to see that she enjoyed it, the innocent way it rolled off your tongue. 

You sit down in the chair opposite her, feeling the coolness of the leather press against your calves as you get situated.

“Good job tonight; you get better and better with every performance.” You thank her, both well aware of how much you enjoy her praise. Her expression turns more serious, and you take a deep breath. Here goes. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to be so close with some of the other contestants, though. Not all of them are interested in gaining your friendship for the right reasons.” With furrowed eyebrows and slightly pursed lips, you look at her. “What exactly do you mean?” Her expression turns unreadable, and you sink into your seat a little more. “Some of them may want to get into your head to throw you off your game. Despite what you want to believe, Y/N, this is still a contest.” You sigh, now a bit upset that she’s treating you like a child. “I’m aware of that, Lisa, but I can take care care of myself.” At the change in tone, the air around you shifts into something more tense. “Are you sure? Because you seem to be pretty oblivious to their actions.” She bites back, shifting her seat to get a better look at you, and crosses her arms.

When you don’t respond, she takes this as her cue to continue. “Don’t play dumb, Y/N. I see the way they look at you, so entranced. They know that acting helpless will get your attention. It’s just to distract you!” She says, exasperated, jaw set and eyes cut, just like earlier.

“Are you jealous?” You ask, a contrasting tone of accusal and uncertainty in your voice. No turning back now.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Jealous? Of what?” Her eyes setting on you again, a cocky expression on her face.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you start, toying with her; you know exactly what to say. “Maybe at the fact that they get to be so close to me all the time, like you want to be. Or maybe that we sleep together, especially when it gets cold in the dorms.”

It’s her turn to be speechless. “I’m more observant that you act, miss.” She gulps, and you bite back a smirk. “I see how you look at me; your desire is obvious. We’ve both known it for a long time now… Why don’t you just admit it?” The teasing tone in your voice is thick, and it’s clearly getting to her. Who knew you could make her feel like this with just your words?

“Y/N…” Lisa says your name almost as a warning, knowing that you’re on the edge of crossing the line. She failed to deny your claims; after all, it would do no good. She can’t disguise her feelings for you.

A surge of confidence washes over you, and you take that as a sign to scoot closer to her. Soon, you’re mere inches away from her, your body pressed against the side of the seat as you rest your chin in the palm of your hand. Her tongue darts out of her mouth, soothing her lips.

You take her in for a moment, enjoying the sight. Her long dark hair tumbles past her shoulders in loose waves, and a blush takes residence upon her cheeks. Having her like this was something you only dreamed of in the past; seeing her so aroused because of you truly made you think back on how far the two of you have come.

To put an end to the silence, you loop two fingers underneath her chin, successfully coaxing her into meeting your gaze. Your eyes fall to her lips as you ask, “Am I wrong?” Before you can continue, her resolve fades. She leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. Any ounce of doubt that you had before melts away as she pulls you closer.

With inhibition and processing skills long gone, you slip from your chair and into hers, settling in her lap. One of her arms wraps around your waist to hold you steady, while her other hand tangles itself into your hair. A swift bite to your lip, paired with a flex of her warm thigh beneath you, sends a jolt through your body and earns her a low groan. She shudders against you, and that simple act works wonders in boosting your confidence.

All too quickly, a sudden noise from just outside the door startles you; reluctantly, Lisa pulls away. You nearly gasp at how dark her eyes have gotten in the heat of the moment. “I’m going to go see what that was,” she informs, gently setting you down in her seat as she stands up. Before turning to walk away, however, she plants another kiss on your lips. “Don’t even think about moving. I’m not done with you yet.”

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.

This is adorable 🥺 Thank you for thinking of me

I'll tag: @poulengp @its-a-me-mario-hihi And anyone else who wants to try it out :)

rules: make yourself with this

tagging: @atbzkingdom​ @chaoticdeobi​ @fullsunsays​ @mjlkau​ @the-romantiques​ @micaronn​ @lsangyeons​ @heartyyjeno​ @shaechans​ @monunivers​ @jonghos-left-airpod​ @mydaintydaisy​ @hhjs​ @ukiyoexo​ @timextoxhajima​ @sunlightwoo​ @seraphimguks​

Happiest Year(s)

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 1,759

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Character Death, Illness, Crying

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

A/N: OMG!!! This writing absolutely wrecked me... I’m so sorry Jisoo 😭 I promise that I have some fluff in the works to make up for this one. Regardless, I hope you enjoy! 

PS ~~ I listened to the song “Happiest Year” by Jaymes Young when I wrote this (hence the title). I highly recommend that you check it out -- maybe even play it in the background while you read this.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The pain was something you had grown accustomed to, especially within the past few months. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, though it sure gave you a run for your money sometimes.

One fateful night, everything changed: Hot, excruciating jolts shot through you, burning and raging like a fire within. Jisoo found you in the bathroom, curled up in the fetal position, and immediately called for help. To her, this was something totally unexpected -- you had always worked hard to hide what you were going through from her, not wanting to give her any added stress. She had enough to worry about; you didn’t want to be another thing on that list. Perhaps that had been the wrong thing to do, judging by the panicked look on her face as she cradled you in her arms. Surely her stress had increased tenfold now.

~~~~~~~

The soft click of the door to your hospital room grabs your attention, and you open your eyes. 

“Y/N, why did the doctor just tell me that you’ve known about your condition?” Her voice is quiet, unbelieving; she sounds tired. For the first time in a long time, her eyes are unable to meet yours. She swallows thickly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and fear. Tears threaten to spill from her beautiful eyes, and you curse the universe for not giving you enough strength to reach up and wipe them away when they inevitably fall. 

“I was going to tell you… I just never found the right time. How was I supposed to tell you something like that?”

“You should’ve.” The reply is simple, but her delivery is profound: her voice is laced with pain, a hint of resentment mixed in. Who could blame her? She’s having to witness her world crumble before her eyes, and she has absolutely no way to stop it. Her jaw clenches as she finally gives in, little by little, allowing her tears to fall. You can tell she’s trying to stay strong, though.

“Would you have lived as fully if I had? No. You would’ve spent every second with me worried about that, looking at me different. Like I was fragile and would break at any moment. Maybe you wouldn’t have meant to, but I would’ve felt it. It would’ve been at the forefront of your mind; you wouldn’t have said what you meant and did what you wanted. I needed to make those memories.” 

~~~~~~~

As you faded in and out of consciousness again, the distant sounds of monitors served as a beacon for you. Fighting sleep was growing harder every time, but you held on for Jisoo. She wasn’t ready to let go yet, and neither were you; although, the two of you never really would be.

“What am I supposed to do without you, Y/N?” Her hands are cradled around your left one, lips pressing against it as the words roll off her tongue. She’s looking down, attempting to wrap her head around what’s about to happen. Hot tears drip onto your skin, and you pray to have enough strength to hold her one last time. You want to leave this world embracing her, feeling her warmth for as long as you possibly can. You have to. 

“J-Jisoo.” Within an instant, her head snaps up, her eyes searching your face, waiting for your command. 

“Hold me.”

As she moves to lay next to you on the bed, she makes sure not to hurt you. One of her arms supports your head and wraps around your shoulders, while her other comes to circle around your waist. Her soft skin rubs against your own, and a hum of happiness leaves your lips.

In an instant, it hits her: she won’t be able to hear that sound again. She won’t be able to hear your laugh… God, your laugh. It’s always been one of her favorite sounds in the entire universe; after tonight, she’ll have to settle for listening to it from videos on her phone. Those captured memories, frozen in time for her to replay as often as she wanted, could never compare to the real thing. 

Soon, you’d be gone from this world, leaving her behind as a shell of what she once was. How could you keep this from her? Everything the two of you had spent so much time creating -- the stable life you were going to keep on living well into your 80s -- is crashing down around her. That dream of passing away together in bed, a long and happy life replaying as you fade away, is rapidly disappearing into nothingness, and she doesn’t know how to cope.

She tries to make sense of the situation -- to rationalize like she always does -- but it’s not possible this time. Why were you burdened with this terrible disease? Why you? You’re one of the greatest people Jisoo has ever known, always doing right by everyone you come across. So what kind of higher power would damn you in such a way? 

“Stop thinking about it. Just be here with me, please.”

As hard as it is to do as you ask, she does her best to push those thoughts away. 

“I can’t do this without you, Y/N.” Her sobs get in the way of her words as they struggle past her lips. She’s a mess: streaks of tears are running down her cheeks again, her hair stuck to her face in various places. The mascara she applied earlier that day is smudged underneath her eyes, mingling with the salty liquid spilling from them without restraint. 

“Yes you can, baby. It’s gonna be alright; you’ve got the girls, and you know I’m gonna be there, too. I’ll always be with you.”

She presses a kiss against your forehead, and you can feel her lower lip tremble against you. 

“I’m not afraid. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, I’m not hurting.” You try your hardest to remind her of that and soothe her, even in the state you’re in; seeing her like this hurts you more than any sickness ever could. Both of your hearts are breaking at the same time, attempting to figure out how to go on without the other. 

A rather violent cough racks through your body, and she holds you once it’s over. In that moment, it’s clear that your time to go is rapidly approaching. 

“Jisoo--” You begin, mustering up all of your strength to utter some parting words.

“Don’t. Don’t say it. You’ll have to go once you do. I’m not ready.” She shakes her head in protest, still unable to accept what’s happening. 

“I have to, jagi. Just let me get it out.” 

With a shuddered breath and fresh set of tears replacing her previous ones, she nods. You take that as your cue to continue.

“Thank you for the happiest years of my life. Knowing you -- being able to love you -- has been the biggest privilege I’ve ever had. There’s no one I would have rather spent my time with. I know it’s hard baby, but please don’t hate me for not telling you… I think you’ll understand why I didn’t, in time. Just be happy, Jisoo. For me. Remember me and the times we shared; those aren’t going anywhere. I’ll love you forever.”

Her lips are against yours in a flash, gentle passion burning wildly. The feeling takes away all of your worries, and you sigh against her. She doesn’t want to stop, but she has some words for you, too. 

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Y/N… that’s what makes this so hard. I could never hate you, though. I just wish we had more time. I’ll love you always, even through the distance that separates us. You’re my happiness.”

“Ooh baby…” The words come out through your tears, your voice unstable from all of the emotions you’re feeling. “I wish I could stay. God, am I gonna miss you.”

She kisses you again, and some of the pain is alleviated from your heart immediately. It still hurts, of course, but her kisses soothe you in a way that nothing else can -- part of you is healed now.

“I think I’m gonna miss that most of all.” She mumbles as her forehead rests against yours again. Her tears are at bay for the time being.  

“Not as much as I will.” The faintest chuckle is drawn from her; even as you lay dying, you’re still just as competitive as ever. 

You wrap your arms around her and let your face rest in the crook of her neck. You’re at peace in her arms, warm and comfortable in every way possible. Only she could do that -- no one else made you feel as safe and protected as her. The realness of the situation is hitting you again, but you try to focus your mind on the feeling of her heart beat against your chest. Yours is slowing down, the process becoming unnecessary now.

She can feel you slipping away, right between her fingers, and it’s almost too much to handle. Her entire world is fading right in front of her, and she just has to be a passenger in the process. If she could save you, she would; if there was a way for her to trade positions with you, she would do it in a heartbeat. Every other type of pain pales in comparison to seeing you, the love of her life, so weak and frail.

“I love you. Now, kiss me one last time.”

She does as you ask, whispering her own declarations of love against your lips in between kisses. 

In stark contrast with her broken state, your mind is running wild with memories from the life the two of you shared. All of your “firsts” replay in a flurry of various emotions and colors. It’s difficult to explain, but your mind is aglow with the vivid hues of a life well lived -- one with no regrets, no stones left unturned. It’s all playing in your head like some sort of slideshow, and there’s no other way you’d want to be sent off. 

“It’s beautiful, Jisoo.”

Just as she looks down at you, ready to ask what you’re talking about, the monitor flatlines. You have a content, peaceful smile on your lips, your eyes closed in comfort. 

“I’ll see you later, my love.” She whispers to you -- and those are the last words you hear before leaving this world, beginning your journey to the cosmos.