Back To You

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!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

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!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

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.

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...

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.

Quiet Nights

Requested By Anon: “Jenlisa x Reader where the three of them are asleep and reader’s weird body clock wakes them up in the dead of the night so she spends it fondly watching her girlfriends sleep??? I’m in a fluff fest mood, and on a Jenlisa binge 😭”

Pairing: Poly!Jenlisa x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 1,000 even, baby 😎

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff

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

A/N: Here we are with another request that I’ve finally been able to get to! This was my first time writing a poly story, so hopefully I did it justice. Happy reading :)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Bliss. That’s what you felt as you laid there in bed, sandwiched in between the two loves of your life. Lisa’s leg was thrown haphazardly over yours, her other limbs also sprawled out in whichever way they decided to go. In contrast, Jennie was on her side, facing you, her arms tucked under her pillow as she rested her head on it. That’s how it usually went: her sleeping neatly on your left, with Lisa spread-eagle on your right. In a way, you acted as the bridge between them, keeping the two extremes from waking each other up.

The same can’t be said for you, however: your unpredictable schedule means that sometimes a solid sleeping pattern is unattainable. Thus, nights like tonight inevitably occur; seemingly out of the blue, you were pulled from your peaceful slumber, and you haven’t been able to fall asleep since. Despite the exhaustion you feel, there’s no denying how wonderful the sight before you is. Perhaps your body clock was working in your favor by doing what it did. 

Soft snores slip past Lisa’s lips, successfully grabbing your attention. Faint hints of moonlight squeeze their way through the blinds, landing on various parts of her body, and you just gaze lovingly at her. Her hair is tousled, yet it still manages to look elegant as it’s splayed across the silky surface of the pillow. Times like these are arguably your favorite: at night, you’re all finally free to relax, the busyness of your schedules no longer weighing you down. She looks happy, content -- especially with how she nestles her head further into the pillow. Before you can stop yourself, you lean forward enough to press a sweet kiss to her cheek, making sure not to move too suddenly and alert either of them. A smile slowly spreads across her face, and you’re pleased to find that even while away in her dreams she still felt and registered your kiss. She subconsciously scoots a bit closer to you, likely to share your warmth, considering most of her body is uncovered now, the blanket long ago wiggled off of her. You don’t mind it, though, and you even lay your arm across her, allowing your warm hand to rest on her hip. 

After spending the next few minutes admiring how gorgeous she looks, you turn your attention Jennie. She’s still in the same position as earlier, only now she’s cuddling your arm as her lips gently brush against your shoulder. Having her so close is always a blessing, and your heart swells at the feeling of her fingers interlacing with your own. Her body twitches lightly at something in her dream, and soon her face scrunches up in an adorable pout. The sensation tickles your skin, and you work hard to stifle your giggles. She just looks so precious and small, her cheeks puffed out like little dumplings. 

The girls are utterly perfect, and you can’t believe that you managed to pull both of them. Out of your league in every way imaginable, they still ended up falling for you somehow. People would kill to be in your spot, dating two of the world’s most talented and famous women; but by some happenstance miracle they chose you, and you thank the universe for that on the daily. Even after 2 years of dating, you’ve never gotten tired of each other, and the love is stronger than ever. The three of you feel safe in each other’s presence and have a bond like no other; by now, you know each other better than anyone else, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. They’ve changed your life in so many ways; you know what a healthy, stable relationship looks like because of them, and you’re able to be yourself. They never judge you, and they’re always there to listen and take care of you. Even with how chaotic life can get sometimes, you know that nothing can break up your perfect little unit. 

“Mmm, Y/N,” Jennie mumbles groggily, her voice deeper than usual, laced with sleep. You give her a moment or two to adjust once her eyes flutter open, locking onto yours, and she can tell that you’ve been awake for a bit. “Can’t sleep, baby?” You shake your head as you toy mindlessly with her fingers, reveling in how soft her skin is against your own. 

“Come here,” she commands, releasing your hand in order to pull you ever closer into her embrace. Now on your side, face to face with her, she presses her lips to yours in a small kiss. She knows that even the simplest touch from her can comfort you like nothing else, and she thinks it’s adorable. She’s the same way with you, so she understands it completely. 

From behind you, Lisa’s body finally registers that you’ve moved, your arm no longer stretched across her. She groans at the loss of contact, soon deciding to turn on her side as well, pressing her front up against your back as she melts into you. She wraps an arm around you, allowing her hand to snake underneath your shirt and rest comfortably against your warm abdomen. She’s half awake now too, just like Jennie, and you almost feel guilty. 

It’s like Lisa has a 6th sense or something: just as you’re about to apologize, she says, “You didn’t wake us up, babe. Don’t worry.” Her cool fingers brush the hair away from your neck, giving her space to press a reassuring kiss to the area. 

With a content sigh and happy smile on your face, you declare to them, “I love you guys.” 

“We love you, too, Y/N. So much.” They make sure to not forget about each other, bringing their now-intertwined hands to rest against your hip. 

Now, wrapped in their warmth, you begin to unwind again. Glorious slumber beckons you closer with every passing minute, and soon you fall asleep to the feeling of their even breaths against you. 

Safe With Me

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 1,690

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, 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 Jennie; I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think! 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“Y/N, it’s Jennie. She needs you.”

The second that your brain processes those words, you’re on your feet, mind beginning to race. 

After the staff had called you in a panic earlier, you came as soon as you could. They failed to inform you, though, that it was something concerning Jennie -- likely because they knew you’d drive like a maniac in order to get there as fast as humanly possible.

“What happened?”

“She had an attack on stage earlier and she still hasn’t fully calmed down. We got her some water and she’s in her dressing room right now, but she keeps asking for you.”

With that, you thank the backup dancer and exit the waiting room, quickly making your way to her. The winding hallways of the backstage area seem longer than they ever have before, and you can’t help the antsy feeling that creeps over you. 

Upon turning the corner, you spot Jisoo outside of Jennie’s door, a heavy look of contemplation on her face. When her eyes meet yours, worry flashes across her features -- considering how strong she always stays for the other girls, this comes as a bit of a surprise. Despite the stutter in your step after seeing that, you continue on nonetheless.

Rosé and Lisa are further down the hall, the low chatter of their voices carrying over to Jisoo and yourself. “This one was pretty bad, Y/N. Take care of her, okay? I’ll keep the others occupied.” With a nod, the two of you part ways, and you open the door.

You make sure to enter slowly, not wanting to burst in and frighten her in her already anxious state. “Hey, jagi. Come here.” The words come out softly, a gentle request, as you open your arms to her and sit down beside her on the small couch. Wordlessly, she crawls over to you and settles against you. Now, holding her close, you can feel every tremble and sniffle that she lets out. Your world shatters a little more with each erratic pulse of her untamed heart -- you can feel every beat against your own chest. Her head is resting on your shoulder, her warm cheek pressing against your skin, and her lips lightly brush your neck.

It wasn’t anything sexual -- it’s something that she does everytime you hold her, no matter what. She once told you that it brought her comfort to feel your pulse point against her lips, the steady beat working to regulate her own. So, everytime she gets anxious, you assume this position with her. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, but I’m here now, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” Your left hand rubs soothing circles on her lower back as you use your other to play with her hair, knowing the calming effect it has on her. Her body begins to relax into you, and you feel the weight start to lift from your shoulders.

Having an inconsiderate boss always sucked, but never more so than at times like these. Even after explaining your reason for needing to leave early, he didn’t budge. He fired off the cliché, “If I let you do it, then I’ll have to let everyone do it too!” In a moment of crisis, Jennie needed you more than anyone else, and you couldn’t even be there for her. Even though it wasn’t your fault, you can’t help but feel guilty about it. Her reasoning for finding such comfort in your mere presence still baffles you, but you’re always willing to offer it when she needs it. 

She must have noticed the dejected look on your face, because she pushes herself up enough to press a kiss to your cheek. “I love you; thank you for being here. Now, will you tell me about your day?” You nearly melt at the sound of her sweet voice, paired with her declaration of love. It still makes your heart skip a beat, and based on the light smile that tugs on her lips, you’re sure that she felt it.

Her words serve as your command, and soon you’re filling her in on everything that happened throughout the day. Jennie could listen to you talk about absolute nonsense for hours on end; she loves the sound of your voice, and she takes solace in the vibrations of your body as you speak. All of those things -- some of her favorite things about you -- are a combination that never fails to take her mind off of anything that’s stressing her out. If she’s honest with herself, everything about you cheers her up. The way your face lights up when you see her, the feeling of your arms wrapped around her, your sense of humor, your kindness, the warmth that you radiate just by being yourself -- she could go on and on forever. No amount of words could possibly convey how thankful she is for you and all that you do for her. 

It goes without saying that you feel the same way about her. You suffer from anxiety, too, and she’s always by your side in an instant whenever it gets especially hard to handle. Her perfume would wash over you, and she would pepper kisses across your skin. Words of affirmation would spill from her lips and drift to your ears, working to bring you back down to Earth. She always knew just what to do to help, and you often thank your lucky stars for aligning with hers.

Things like that can really make or break a relationship -- dealing with stressors and pressure is never easy, but it can certainly bring people closer together. Before you even started dating, Jennie knew you were special; being around you brought her comfort like no other, and she quickly realized that she would choose to spend all of her time with you if she could. Anytime she thinks about her future, you’re always in it; you’re a complex puzzle that she wants to spend her life unraveling and solving.

After spending the better part of an hour like that -- limbs entangled as you talk with one another -- Jennie’s feeling a lot better. Her heartbeat is steady now, and that suffocating feeling of panic is long gone. 

“What would I do without you, huh?” She asks, nudging your shoulder as she sits up to face you. 

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” You start, looking off dramatically while you pretend to think. “Probably be really bored without all of my awesomeness around.”

Your dorky response earns you a chuckle, and she shakes that beautiful head at you. 

“I think you might be right about that one.” She tilts her head to the side, her eyes shining with a look of pure adoration. 

She rests her forehead against yours and guides your hand to her chest. It’s her special thing that she always does after an attack; she wants you to be aware of what your help does to her. The rhythm of her heart is constant against your palm, and her fingers slide up to lace with your own. Knowing that she’s comfortable now is the only reward you could ever ask for.

“I love you so much, Jennie. You’re so strong.” 

“I couldn’t do it without you.”

Her lips find their way to yours, and you can taste the gloss on them as she deepens the kiss. Before long, she’s worked her way into your lap, her hair falling like a curtain around the two of you. Unbeknownst to you, moments like these got her through some very hard times; her mind would recall the memories of how her skin felt against yours, the sighs that would leave your lips as she would kiss down your jawline, how just one touch from you could send her wild, etc. Her safe place is you, and she’ll do everything in her power to always remind you of that.

Just as her fingers begin to undo the buttons of your shirt, the building’s intercom starts up, and the sound echoes loudly across the building. Jennie startles, falling forward against you, and lets out a surprised yelp. Despite your efforts, you can’t stop the small giggle that leaves your lips at how easily she gets scared. She playfully smacks your shoulder and tries to give you an angry look; she can’t keep it up for long, and soon the two of you find yourselves in the middle of a laughing fit.

You give her cheeks a little squish before saying, “You’re the cutest ever.” Following this, she boops your nose and replies with confidence: “I know.”

She pecks your lips one final time before standing up and tugging you along with her. “We’d better go find the girls now.” 

“Fiiiiiiiiine.” You drag out, your usual dramatic self coming back out to play. 

With that, the two of you head out to the main dressing room in search of the girls, hand in hand. 

~~~~~~~

“YAY! You’re here!” Lisa shouts, nearly knocking the two of you over with her bone-crushing embrace. 

“We sure are!” You struggle out, the words coming through as more of a pained wheeze than anything else.

Rosé and Jisoo manage to pry Lisa away, but soon all of you are hugging again anyway. Your little huddle is perfect, and you’re so thankful for the girls. Being surrounded by such genuine, talented people is a blessing, and you seriously wonder how you got so lucky. As the sounds of their jokes and laughter fill your ears, you can practically feel your heart soaring. 

“Time for dinner!” Rosé shouts, now walking out the door. 

“I’ll race you to the car!” Lisa rushes out, quickly darting past the other girl.

“Not fair, I wasn’t ready!” Their rapid footfalls fade as they get further and further away, and you just scoff at their antics. 

“Kids.” Jisoo says with a roll of her eyes, her inner mom showing.

Jennie leans into you, settling against your side, and lets out a content sigh.

In that moment, the dynamic between everyone so perfectly highlighted, you can’t help but think to yourself: there’s nowhere I’d rather be.