Lisa Imagines - Tumblr Posts

Dancing In The Dark

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!5thMember!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,641 😌

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Language, Suggestive Themes, Fluff

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

A/N: BOP BOP BOP 💃 Here's a Lisa fic for you guys!!! This isn't the request I got for her, but recent events inspired me to write this one and I really hope you enjoy it. More content will be coming in the near future :) Thank you all for the continued support, and as always... ♡ Happy Reading ♡

Follow-Up Part: Worth It

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Tense isn't quite good enough of a word to describe how you've spent the past week and a half. For some reason unbeknownst to you, Lisa's been hostile and standoffish whenever you've tried to communicate, always giving you short answers and snide remarks instead of being mature and confronting you about whatever issue she has. So, of course, it's only natural for the bitterness to have rubbed off on you as well. 

What's worse is that you're not even sure why you're fighting. Anytime you rack your brain for a reason to explain the anger, you come up with nothing. 

"Are we still on for practice later?" You ask, picking up a piece of bacon from the breakfast tray that sets on the counter. 

"I'll be there." She says simply, not even bothering to look up from the bowl of cereal she decided to grab. You clench your jaw and give a curt nod, determined to give her the same energy she's giving you. 

Jisoo notices the air of aversion that's quickly taking over the room, so she speaks up in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I can't wait to meet more Blinks at our fansign later this week. Aren't you guys excited?" The mere thought of meeting your supporters makes the unnie unbelievably happy, and all the hard work seems worthwhile. 

Despite herself, Lisa lightly grins and mutters a phrase of agreement around her mouthful of food. 

"At least they know how to make conversation." You respond pettily, glancing across the counter at Lisa as you take a bite of your bacon.

"I know how, Y/N. I just lack the desire to do so," she shrugs, seemingly unaffected by the cold words that slip past her plump lips. 

You click your tongue, now used to her behavior. Had this been one of her first times saying something like that, you probably would've been sadder than you currently are.

"Awww," you coo. "You come up with that one on the spot? You'll have to do better than that if you wanna hurt me." You lean against the marble countertop to whisper that last part, throwing a goodbye to Jisoo as you set off to your room to get ready for the day. 

Later That Day -- 7:49 PM

The bright red numbers displayed above the elevator doors tick on, changing with each floor you put behind you. A heavy sigh bounces off the walls and you rub the back of your neck for comfort. 

Why does Lisa have to be such a good dancer? The only reason you arranged this practice with her in the first place is to ensure that you know all the proper choreo for your upcoming Inkigayo performance. Your fans matter more to you than any disagreement you could be in, and you're determined to put on the best show possible for them. Lisa just so happens to be a critical factor in that process, unfortunately.

"Level 6," an automated voice announces before the sleek doors open, revealing a nearly uninhabited floor of practice rooms. They branch off on both sides of the long hallway that stretches out before you, and you get started on your journey down it. The only occupied studio sets at the end, emitting a soft glow through its translucent door as one of your song's choruses thumps through the speakers. 

You don't bother to knock before walking in, far past keeping up with the niceties any longer. Lisa's eyes dart from the wall of mirrors that borders the front of the room to glance at you, momentarily stilling her movements. 

"Don't let me stop you," you say, moving your hand in a "shoo-ing" motion at her until she picks back up with the song. You turn around to shut the door and take off your jacket, missing the way her eyes slowly rake over your body. 

You join her in the middle of the room, making sure to stay far enough away so that neither of you accidently hit or bump into each other as you run through the songs. The next hour or so is spent doing just that, repeating the ones you have issues with until you're performing the moves expertly. Every approving nod and shout from Lisa works to boost your confidence, and you actually find it a bit easier to enjoy yourself in her presence again. The two of you trade jokes, and sometimes it seems as if the hostility is fading away.

"You did well with all the other songs, so let's practice the one where we have the male backup dancers. I'll fill in for them." 

Your breath catches in your throat at the thought of Lisa dancing so sensually with you, but you quickly dismiss it and get into position. 

"From the top?" You ask over your shoulder, feeling her eyes on you as she approaches. 

"Of course." She says it like it's common sense.

The song starts up, and she sets her phone down on a nearby chair that she dragged closer earlier. She watches as you perform your solo moves, offering tweaks and scattered praises all the while. About midway through, the song shifts and she rolls her sleeves up in preparation. 

You take a deep breath as she settles behind you, reaching an arm around your front to rest her fingertips on your jaw. When the next hit of the sensual bass vibrates across the practice room, she coaxes your head to the side, moving hers forward just enough to brush her lips against your neck. 

You're aware of every twitch of her muscles, every breath she takes -- her body is flush up against yours, radiating that heat that you've missed so much. Her heart beats quickly like yours, and you can feel the way it pounds against your back.

Perhaps this is the moment you should step away; some distance is sure to clear the fog that settles over your brain, clouding your judgment more than ever. But she's holding you like she used to, and you can't muster up the energy to put an end to something that feels so good. 

"Arms up," she coaches, lifting your hands above your head before trailing her fingers back down your arms, lower and lower until they skim over the warm skin of your abdomen. In one fell swoop, she tangles her thumb into one of the belt loops of your jeans and uses her other hand to assist you with the next move: a spin. Her hold is steady, and your hair cascades over your shoulders as you lean your head back, twirling effortlessly. Given that your eyes are closed, you fail to notice the way she traps her bottom lip in between her teeth, doing all she can to keep dancing and not kiss you. You feel her palm press to the small of your back as her arms tighten around your waist, allowing you to dip towards the ground without falling.

"Good, just like that." The praise is like music to your ears as she raises you back up, and she audibly swallows when she sees how mussed your clothes have become from dancing. 

Turning your attention back to the front, you meet her gaze in the mirror; it's calculated and intimidating, but she looks aroused. You watch as her eyes scan over your body, lingering in the places that she's spent hours worshiping before. A smug smile tugs at your lips; despite being mad, her attraction to you is undeniable. With that in mind, you decide to tease her; in time with the music, you push your hips back. 

"I think I still need help with this next part." You purr, lulling your head back to rest against her shoulder as you slowly drag your hands over your body. Lisa lets out a low moan when you arch your back, grinding your ass further into her while you innocently toy with the buttons of your shirt. Having her in such a state is great enough, but knowing that you're the reason she's so turned on is something else entirely.

"Y/N…" she warns, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress anymore noises that run the risk of selling her out. 

"Lisa…" you tease back, playfully matching her tone as you watch her face scrunch up in response to the way you wind your body along to the music. 

She turns you around, her grip on your hips tightening as she works hard to restrain herself. Your chest rises and falls with slightly hurried breaths, partially from the dancing you've been doing and partially from the effect she has on you. Keeping her hands from roaming is proving harder than she imagined it'd be, and her mind goes into overdrive to find a way to make sure things don't slip too far out of her control. 

Her plans are stalled when you grab the material of her shirt in your fists, lightly yanking her forward by the collar of it until her lips ghost dangerously close to yours. You fake her out, only allowing them to brush against each other for a moment before you tilt your head and drop your mouth down to her neck. 

As you begin to leave a light hickey on her pulse point, she somehow manages to come to her senses and knows what she has to do. It was a hard fought battle, though, and part of her still wants to relent and let you have your way with her. 

She puts her hands on your shoulders and shoves you backwards, being careful not to push too hard. The look in her eye is predatory, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't thrill you. 

With every advancing step she takes, slow and deliciously torturous in its nature, you take one backwards, only stopping when the cold surface of the mirror presses against your skin. 

"You wanna know why I've been short with you?" Her darkening eyes scan down to your lips before coming back up to look into yours as she waits for your answer. 

Why would she bring that up right now? The question sours your mood, effectively ruining the moment -- that's exactly what Lisa wanted (she's still bothered by whatever's been plaguing her lately, and as much as she wants you, she can't get over it yet).

"Yeah, because it's really unfair. I haven't done anything wrong." The anger and hurt you've been feeling for the past week returns now, bubbling up in your chest when the memories of some of her more harsh words replay in your mind. Your voice conveys the growing irritation you feel, but Lisa’s expression remains unreadable. The effects of your desire are beginning to border on frustration now, dancing on the line as they threaten to cross over it.

"I didn't particularly appreciate finding you at the studio with Jung-hoon when you were supposed to be with us."

A singular exhale leaves you, short and unbelieving as you roll your eyes.

"That's what this is about?" You scoff. "You know I was held back to record my part for the newest track; and besides, I wasn't even that late to dinner. The girls weren't mad, so why are you?" Your arms come up to cross over your chest defensively, and you narrow your eyes at her.

"You should know." She says it like it's the most obvious thing known to man.

"Well clearly I don't, Lisa, so why don't you enlighten me?"

"You're so oblivious," she bites back, rolling her eyes like you just had, "He's practically in love with you."

"What?"

"You heard me. He doesn't even try to hide it. Why else do you think he made sure to schedule you for the last slot of the day? He wanted to get you alone." Her tone is laced with bitterness, and a grimace crosses her face. Even the thought of him puts her off.

"So what if he did? I'd rather be talking to him than getting this shitty treatment from you." 

"Is that so?" She challenges, pursing her lips with a tut as she tilts her head up. 

"It sure is. You'd never know it, considering you seem to hate him so much, but he's actually pretty nice. He even bought me a tea when I complained about my throat being sore that night."

"He sounds like a winner," she says sarcastically, voice void of sincerity as it drips with contempt instead, "Why don't you go spend some time with him, then, if I'm just so horrible to be around?" 

You shake your head as a humorless laugh slips past your lips. She's unbelievable. Before you can think of a good response, she continues her train of thought. "Maybe he'll bribe his way into your pants like he's been trying to for the past month. Tell me, Y/N, would he have to buy you dinner first? Or would another tea suffice?" 

The second those words leave Lisa's lips, her chest tightens; she draws a breath in, keeping it held tightly in her lungs as guilt begins to course through her. She feels the aftershocks of her statement in the painful silence of the room, and she finds it nearly impossible to look you in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time. 

Her words slowly sink in, rendering you momentarily speechless as you simply blink a few times. Your eyebrows sit higher up now, aiding your slack jaw in conveying the surprise you feel. You have to fight the urge to shove her; had you reverted back to being the less mature version of yourself from your teenage years, you would've done so in a heartbeat. But you're older now, and you realize your words and actions have consequences; clearly she hasn't learned that quite yet.

"Lisa, I'm gonna make this as simple as I can for you: if you ever say something like that to me again, we're going to have some real problems… You're such an asshole."

"I shouldn't have--"

"No, you shouldn't have. But you did. And I don't know what the hell has gotten into you lately, but it needs to stop."

"I'm sorry."

Her apology feels meaningless right now, and it falls on deaf ears. You don't allow yourself to believe she means it -- maybe she does, maybe she doesn't; regardless, she might try to sweet talk her way into forgiveness if you stay here right now, and you can't let that happen. "I don't think it's smart for me to be here -- not after that. I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk to me when you get back to the dorm later, either." The conversation sounds more formal than you're used to with Lisa, but it's fitting given everything that's happened. Her eyes remain trained on the floor as she nods sheepishly; she's ashamed of herself.

When you stride over to retrieve your coat from its resting spot, the sound of your shoes hitting the hardwood echo around the rehearsal room, serving as the only noise to cut through the tense silence. It's like a hot knife through butter, and Lisa feels her heart break a little more with each passing second. Your footfalls are a bit heavier than normal now, and you pop your knuckles out of habit to soothe yourself. 

She stops herself from reaching out to you as you brush past her on your way to the door. Had things gone her way, none of this would've happened at all: she even planned to apologize and attempt to make things official with you tonight -- but life always seems to deny us of what we want most. 

The handle's smooth surface rests in your palm as you linger in the doorway, keeping your back turned to her. You're not sure what you're even waiting for in the first place. When Lisa remains silent, unable to think of a fitting way to rectify the situation, you nod to yourself and slip out of the room. 

The dancer releases a breath now that she's alone, and she runs her hands over her face. Her dislike for Jung-hoon was never meant to override her love for you, and it sure as hell wasn't meant to get in between the two of you. In some ways, Lisa's still that young girl she used to be when you first met as trainees: she still gets jealous and annoyed when she doesn't get what she wants, and although the years have made her far more mature than what she once was, old habits truly do die hard. She blames herself for hurting you, but she doesn't blame herself for disliking him. On one hand, you're completely innocent in the situation and undeserving of what she put you through -- she should have trusted you; but on the other, she can't help but be angry at him for trying to steal you away. You're hers, if only in her dreams, and he has no right to flirt with you like that. 

So, with hundreds of thoughts swirling around in her mind, Lisa decides to do what she does best; for the next couple hours, she remains at the studio, releasing the pent up tension and frustration she's been holding in for so long.

~~~~

Back At The Blackpink Dorm

"Can today get any worse?" You groan loudly, tugging at your hair out of frustration. The worn pages of your song book flutter slightly as you push it off of your lap, sending it onto the bed with a soft thump. A couple minutes later you hear movement in the hallway, and you decide to investigate. Carefully, you feel your way through the dark and eventually reach your bedroom door, which you subsequently open. 

"Help me look for some candles, please." Jisoo requests from the hallway, just a little ways away from you. A small flashlight is clutched in her hand, and its surprisingly bright beam does well in illuminating the shelves of the closet as she searches through it. You retrieve a spare light from her before making your way down the hall to search the bathroom. 

"We probably won't have power until tomorrow night; maybe even later. The storm caused a blackout and parts of the grid are down right now. At least that's what management told me." She informs, raising her voice slightly so you can hear her well. She doesn't have to try too hard, though, considering a blanket of silence has fallen over the dorm; with no power, no appliances offer any background noise to drown out the jarring quietness.

Steady sheets of rain pound against the window of the bathroom, momentarily stealing your attention away from the task at hand. As inconvenient as storms of this caliber can be, it's hard not to be in awe of the power of mother nature; occasionally, bolts of lightning streak across the sky in various places, offering a peek at the angry clouds that loom overhead. It's almost like peering into another world: the vivid colors of the lightning contrast with the darkness of the sky, making it appear as a raging sea as the clouds trek across it in waves. 

"I'm already cold." The distant sound of Jennie's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you release a sigh as you draw open more cabinets. She and Rosé are now seemingly out in the hallway, talking with Jisoo about the storm and how you're all going to deal with it. For a moment you wonder why Lisa hasn't joined them; perhaps she's asleep and didn't even notice the power go out. 

Unbeknownst to you, the maknae hasn't done much of anything besides overthinking. Ever since she came home earlier, she's abided by your wishes: she kept quiet during dinner, and retreated to her room without so much as a word to you. It hasn't been easy by any means, and her heart has been aching to apologize to you -- she wants to make things right, but upsetting you further isn't a risk she's willing to take. So now, she lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling as she listens to your other members talk out in the hall. 

"I found these," you approach them, holding up a few medium sized candles that Rosé bought for when you guys need a spa day. 

"Ah, not the good ones!" She whines, disappointed that the luxury items have to be wasted for such a lame purpose. 

"We could always just sit in the dark," you remind her with a chuckle, quirking a small smile at how she's acting. She seems to forget that you guys are rich and completely capable of getting plenty more of them. 

"No, I'll order more," she sighs, adding, "...just don't use all of them." 

"Aye aye, captain," you salute, grinning wider when she lets out a soft laugh. 

"Let's go set the stuff up in the living room," Jisoo says, slipping in between the two of you on her way. When you raise an eyebrow at the other girls, Jennie speaks up, "We might as well just hang out there. We can stay warmer that way and not die of boredom." 

You cock your head to the side and nod after considering the offer, quickly deciding that you have nothing better to do anyway. "What about Lisa?" You ask, the waver in your voice going unnoticed by either of them. From inside her room, Lisa holds her breath, tensing up as she waits to hear their answer. 

"I think she's sleeping, so we don't have to wake her up right now. She'll realize it's out eventually." 

You seem to accept her answer, and Lisa relaxes into the cushions of her bed as she hears three sets of footsteps getting further and further away. There's no way she can face you yet -- she's still working on a good enough apology. Besides, pretending that everything's okay was hard enough at dinner -- the girls were growing suspicious, so it's only a matter of time before they ask about it. None of you like to see each other sad, but there really seems to be a soft spot in all of their hearts for you: they always try to keep you happy and protected in order to repay you for taking such good care of them. You may not be the oldest unnie, but you're dedicated to your members, and their loyalty isn't something to be taken lightly. That undisputed fact works to make Lisa even more nervous; she knows she's been bad to you, and the girls aren't afraid to give her a piece of their minds. Their combined disappointment is only rivaled by her own, and she knows she'll have to work hard to get things back to where they used to be with you. 

~~~~~

As you wash your hands in the bathroom sink, you take in the sight of your reflection staring back at you. Bags rest underneath your eyes from what little sleep you've gotten so far, not quite dark enough to make you cringe but visible enough to show that things aren't going your way. You and the girls spent what was left of the evening chatting and playing board games to keep yourselves entertained, but eventually sleep became unavoidable and you retired to the large pillow fort that the 4 of you had constructed earlier. Without any power going to the dorm's heater, you've been forced to rely on extra blankets and each other's body heat to stay warm. 

A glance at your watch lets you know that it's a little after 3AM now, and you can only hope to fall back asleep soon. Your mind is exhausted from all the thinking you've been doing -- the toll it's taking on you coming through as a physical pain, pulsing steadily to remind you of everything that's happened -- but somehow sleep doesn't seem to be attainable. Despite being so drained, your body and mind would rather stay at odds than just compromise and let you rest. It's like something is telling you to stay awake -- like some quiet voice with ulterior motives is calling on you to look beyond yourself and fight sleep. Whatever the reason may be, you're annoyed with it. 

Frigid water meets your face, stealing the warmth away from your cheeks as it slides its way downward. You lean against the sink, sighing softly as your chilly fingers press into your temples and rub small circles into the skin there. The storm continues to rage on outside, drawing parallels to the war being waged in your heart. You're torn. Part of you is so overcome with the love you hold for Lisa that you just want to forget she even said anything at all -- you almost care more about having things go back to the way they once were than the fact that she's been breaking your heart more and more everyday. But another part of you is tired of her shit -- she shouldn't be able to get away with saying that to you, and you're strong enough to stay away from her until she steps up and makes things right. It's hard, no doubt, to keep your distance when she's the one person you want to be with most in this world, but you respect yourself enough to set a standard for what type of treatment you're willing to accept. 

As if on cue, a loud burst of thunder roars out, quite literally shaking the house with how strong it is. You jump, feeling your blood run cold at the unexpected scare. A yelp from the living room can be heard, and you have to bite your lip to contain the snicker that threatens to escape; you love Jennie to death and hate to see her frightened, but sometimes it's funny. Comfort comes to the brunette in the form of soothing words groggily whispered by the other girls as they hold her close. 

For what seems to be the millionth time tonight, Lisa crosses your mind; should you check on her? Despite what Jennie had suggested earlier, the maknae failed to leave her room at all. You wonder if she's cold; surely she is, considering she didn't have many blankets in her room to bury herself under. Worrying is apparently your strong suit, because the thought of her staying curled up in bed to grant your wishes, alone and shivering, saddens you beyond belief and convinces you to see how she's doing. 

After drying your face and hands, you sneak back to the living room and grab the fluffiest blanket you can find. Your feet dodge the creaky spots in the floorboards, having already memorized them after years of tiptoeing to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning for snacks. Before long, you stand in front of her door and attempt to prepare yourself.

Lisa's eyes fly closed as she hears the door to her room being opened. The weathered metal hinges groan slightly with effort; over the years, it's been thrown open in times of excitement and subjected to it's fair share of slamming during arguments. 

She does her best to play the part, but her act almost falters when she feels your soft hand brush her hair out of her face. The pad of your thumb strokes her cheek slowly, and she can practically feel all the emotion your gaze holds. Her eyes remain closed as you reach out to feel her arms, making sure they aren't frozen solid from being exposed to the chilly air. The fact that you still care enough to make sure she's comfortable makes her feel even more guilty, and her eyelashes have to work twice as hard to keep her tears from escaping. They dampen as the salty liquid builds up, serving as a dam that could break at any moment, but thankfully you don't notice. You splay the cover over her and tuck it slightly, leaving her plenty of room for movement -- you remember her telling you in passing that she doesn't like being tucked in completely because it makes her feel restricted. 

Her breath hitches as your hands fiddle with the collar of her shirt, fixing the ruffled material so that it covers her better. The bed dips as you sit down next to her, letting your eyes trail over her body. 

"How can you sleep right now?" You whisper out, thinking she's lightyears away in dreamland. A stray tear rolls down your cheek, but you're quick to wipe it away. 

"You're so stupid Lisa," you breathe out, releasing your lip from between your teeth. "I can't believe you think I'd want to be with Jung-hoon and not you."

"But hey," you say with a bitter laugh, the sound almost inaudible in its softness, "I guess I'm the oblivious one, right?" 

After spending a few more moments torturing yourself, you slowly stand up and return the blankets to the state they had been in before you sat down. Unable to resist the urge any longer, you lean down to press a kiss to her forehead. You have no idea where the two of you will stand with one another when she wakes up, and you want to have this memory before you're forced to be at odds again. 

As you push your tired body up, prepared to turn around and leave, you're instead met with her deep brown eyes peering up at you.

You freeze, feeling your muscles tense up as the tears in her eyes become more visible. Her features look even more beautiful now, somehow, in the pale moonlight that streams into the room. It's lustrous, seeming to sparkle as it casts down on her perfectly, kissing every inch of exposed skin that it can. She looks like a dream, and for a second you wonder if you're just imagining this. Her skin appears even softer than usual in the gentle glow of the room, but she looks as striking as ever with her defined collarbone and sharp jawline standing out. You feel her hand brush against your wrist, and you're reminded of all the times she would draw you in close and kiss you until you were breathless. 

"How much of that did you hear?" You swallow, a slight nervousness taking over now as you run a hand through your hair. 

"Enough," she utters simply, indulging herself in a few more seconds of the intimate staring contest you were in before breaking eye contact to sit up in bed. She leans back against the headboard and pulls her feet in some to give you plenty of room to sit. Selfishly, she wishes you'd sit right next to her again; she can't say she's surprised when you put a little space between the two of you though, opting to sit further down on the mattress. 

Neither of you say anything for a little while, too busy trying to locate the right words and how to phrase them. The situation is delicate, and neither of you want to mess it up; Lisa's more afraid to speak than you are, but she eventually finds her voice.

"I know sorry doesn't cut it, nor does it solve anything. But I really am sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out how it did, and I haven't been treating you right for awhile now."

"You can say that again," you quip, nodding singularly. 

She sighs, a bit discouraged by your demeanor but still just as determined. 

"Seeing you with him just scared me, Y/N. I know I have no right to be jealous, but that's exactly what I was. When I saw the way he was looking at you and sitting so close… it just hurt. A lot. I like you more than I want to admit, and you're completely capable of pulling anyone you want. Especially a 2 like Jung-hoon." 

You almost smile at that last part: even when apologizing, she can't help but clown on him. 

"That was a fucked up thing to say, back at the studio. It made me feel cheap, Lisa, and I never thought you would be someone who'd make me feel like that. I don't care if it was in the heat of the moment or not -- it was uncalled for." It feels good to finally voice your feelings to her, and you don't waste time by skirting around them or softening the blow.

"You're right, and I wish you could understand how much I regret it. I wanted to run after you so bad… you have no idea. I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth." She hangs her head now, feeling the shame rise in her at the thought of her past actions.

"You can dislike Jung-hoon as much as you want, but you're right about one thing: you have no right to be jealous. I refuse to be your reason for hating someone, especially when your logic is as flawed as it is." 

She can sense that you have more to say, and she's more than willing to listen; so, she waits for you to continue. 

"First of all, you and I aren't dating, Lisa. And even knowing that, you still didn't trust me, evidently. I don't owe you anymore of an explanation than the other girls, but I'll give it since you seem to want it so bad: we really did just work on the song. He was nice to me and treated me well, but he never overstepped or made me uncomfortable. Regardless of whether he likes me or not, he was kind; the same can't be said for you." Your voice is taut with the pain you've been through because of her, and the brutal honesty behind your words hangs heavy in the air. 

"I deserve that one. But can you please try to see it from my point of view? When you're in love with someone, it's easy to get jealous," your heart pounds harder at her use of that four letter word, but you don't let it show, "...especially when the other person isn't even yours to begin with. At least that's how it works for me. I feel like I have to work extra hard to keep your focus on me, because I'm afraid anyone can come by and take you away. You have no obligation to even be with me."

"I may not have an obligation to, Lisa, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be with you. Do you know how excited I was to finally get home and see you and the girls that night? I was dying to pull you into the kitchen and sneak a kiss when I was grabbing my plate. But you'd never know that, because you cared more about your insecurities than believing me."

"Wow." Your confession surprises her, and the simple utterance is all she can manage at the moment.

"Yeah." You say, solidifying your words. 

"I really am an idiot, aren't I?"

"To put it kindly, yes."

She pauses for a beat or two to really process your words. "Can we get past this?" She asks gently, playing with the frilly edge of the blanket you brought in earlier that's now worked its way down into her lap.

"I think so," you say honestly, releasing a steadying breath, "but you have to work for it." 

"I will, everyday. I want us to be okay again." 

"I do too, Lis. I really do." Her gaze softens at the nickname, and she can tell you're being truthful. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"You just did." 

"I-" She starts, only to be cut off by the small giggle you let out.

"Shoot, Manoban."

"Does this mean I can ask you to be my girlfriend?" She notices the way your face falls as you begin to stutter out a response, so she quickly clarifies, "Eventually?" 

"Eventually," you affirm, thankful that she understood that you're not quite ready yet. You crack a small smile as you say, "So long as you don't give me a reason to say no in the meantime." 

The two of you share a much needed laugh, happy to finally begin clearing the air between you. 

Not long after, Lisa says, "One more thing, Y/N." 

You lift your head to look at her and respond, but her lips meet yours before you get the chance to say a word. The surprised noise you make is muffled, but it soon gives way to something crossed between a sigh and moan as her hand travels up your thigh. It rests there, the heat of her palm seeping through the material of your pants as she waits to see how you react, still pressing innocent kisses to your lips. She wants to continue, but you deserve to control the situation. 

Wordlessly, you tilt her head to the side to deepen the kiss, languidly moving your tongue against hers. It's a dance you've spent hours practicing before, and your bodies fall back into the familiar rhythm they've been craving for the past week and a half. When you take her hand and lead it under your shirt, allowing her to touch wherever she pleases, she lets out a guttural noise of approval that has you pressing your thighs together in search of friction. Already, Y/N? You think to yourself; she's barely touched you and you're already so responsive.

Lisa smiles at the shuddered breath she feels you release, and she tugs at your bottom lip to tease you further. 

"If you keep this up, that 'eventually' will come sooner rather than later," you say shakily, swallowing as you press your lips together. They taste like her, and you're convinced you're addicted. 

She lets out a throaty chuckle at that, the action garnering a smile from you. Your cheeks are flushed, and she secretly loves the effect she has on you.

"You're beautiful," she declares, the smile on her lips coming through in the phrase. She strokes your cheek with the back of her hand, and you let out a little "pshh" sound at her sweet comment. Taking compliments has never been something you're very good at.

Determined to show you that she's genuine, she takes your hand and places it against her chest, right over her heart. It beats wildly, untamed and unpredictable as her emotions course through her. "It always gets like this when I'm around you. I can't control it; you just drive me crazy." 

"You're really trying to kill me, huh? Soft Lisa is far hotter than petty Lisa, just so you know." You say, wrapping your arms around her neck. Her hands tighten around your waist as she pulls you into her lap, slowly grinning at your confession. 

"Noted. Now come here, baby." 

You close what little distance is left between you, not having to be told twice. Her lips move in time with yours as she flips you over, laying you on your back beside her. In your preoccupied state, you don't even realize that she's tucked your legs under the blankets and brought the material up to cover the two of you. 

"I'm gonna take care of you, okay? I'm done being an ass." 

"It's about time," you joke, rolling your eyes. "Better get to work if you want to lose your status as a dickhead by the end of this century." 

"Hey! Century? That's a little long, don't you think?"

"Tread lightly, Lisa," you warn, half teasing and half threatening. She catches a hint of the menacing look you send her way, and quickly gets her act together. 

"Yes ma'am." She nods, attempting to contain the smile that tugs at her lips by pressing them against yours again.