Too Late To Apologize?

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...

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

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

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

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

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

I’ve Got You

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

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,626

Warnings / Misc. -- Some Angst, PTSD / Flashbacks, Anxiety, Crying, Fluff, Happy Ending

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

A/N: To the anon who requested this: thank you so much! I wrote it all in one go (at like 3am, mind you), and I had a blast with it. I took it a little more on the angsty side, but I really hope you guys enjoy it. Happy reading, let me know what you think!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C’mon beautiful, let’s go.” 

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

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

“What a shame.” 

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

~~~~~~~  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Smells good, pops!” 

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

“Wanna race in the pool?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you guys.”

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

Thanks for reading!!!

Hidden Love & High Society

Requested by Anon: “Can you do a Jisoo x fem reader where the reader is also an idol and Jisoo and the reader develop feelings for each other. But they're under super strict companies and Korea is a strict society so they're scared to admit their feelings. Some angst but a fluffy ending please!”

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,049

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Self Doubt, Fluff, Happy Ending

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

A/N: To the anon who requested: Thank you! I had a couple different ways I was going to go with this, but I think this version fits the best. I hope you enjoy it! Happy reading, everyone. Let me know what you think :)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Falling in love with Kim Jisoo had been a gradual experience, beautifully terrifying and perfectly imperfect. You never intended it, especially with how strict your companies are, but there was no stopping it once it started. As much as you’ve tried to, you can’t deny the butterflies that take flight when your eyes meet, or how your heart skips a beat whenever she’s near. In your head, where you’ve convinced yourself this unrequited love will forever stay, things are perfect; you hold onto the memories there when the hard times come along, seeking solace in them. Sadly, the real world can never look like this -- especially for the two of you. Two women -- two idols, at that -- thrust into the limelight, immersed fully in Korean standards and societal roles. You don’t stand a chance against all of the odds, even with your group members at your side, behind you all the way. But with every stolen glance, every fleeting moment with her, your feelings become harder to hide. You’re only capable of so much pretending, and your cache is running out.

Being the leader of your group is a wonderful thing that you don’t take lightly, but it doesn’t come without its share of stress. The girls look up to you, always trusting you to take care of them and do what’s right, and that makes you want to be perfect for them. That fact doesn’t make the inner turmoil any easier for you: is it better to deny yourself of the one thing you want, for the sake of saving face? Or should you teach them to live for themselves, answering to no one else? That question persists in your mind, replaying like a mantra, working to drive you insane. 

Jisoo is much the same: she knows how unforgiving and heinous the media can be, and she isn’t willing to risk the group’s reputation over a silly crush. A silly crush, she always tries to remind herself, although it becomes more difficult with every new memory she makes with you. She’s done well in concealing her emotions this long, but you make her feel weak; a part of her resents you for how easily you can turn her into a blushing mess. All of your little mannerisms and quirks fuel the flame in her heart, and she’s growing more and more fond of the feeling. 

~~~~~~~ 

For Jisoo, nights like these are always the best: both of your groups are relaxing at the Blackpink dorm, everyone discussing the award show you just attended. The two of you are seated on adjacent couches, the rest of your members strewn about the room, some on the floor while others lounge on the sofas. From her spot, Jisoo has the most perfect view: warm light shines on you from the nearby lamp, accentuating your features in all the right ways. Her gaze softens as she watches you recount how it felt to hear that you’d won, your eyes bright and expression cheery. You rule her world without even knowing it, and sometimes she seriously considers just listening to her heart and admitting her feelings. 

Lost in her thoughts of you, she doesn’t even realize that she’s leaned in closer, her eyes dropping down to your lips as you speak. You act like you don’t notice, doing your best to hide the blush that rises to your cheeks at the thought of having her full attention. There’s always been an unspoken tension between the two of you, and all of your members are aware of it. As Lisa takes control of the conversation, you sit back a bit, relaxing into the cushions of the loveseat. At the feeling of the material against your skin, you’re reminded of the time that Jisoo straddled you here, tickling you relentlessly as you squirmed and laughed. The memory, one of thousands that she’s the star of, brings a smile to your face.

Eventually the conversation shifts, with everyone ranting about how hungry they are. Of course, being the unnie that you are, you offer to make some food for everyone -- you enjoy cooking, but you also know that they’re all too lazy to make anything for themselves. 

“Jisoo, would you care to help me? I know I’m pretty great and all, but I’m not so sure I can feed this gang by myself.”

She has to stop herself from agreeing before you’re even done asking. Needless to say, her smirk widens as she says, “I’d love to help,” before standing up and trailing in your wake.

As the two of you make your way out of the room, a quiet chorus of ooo’s can be heard from the girls. You send them a stern look, but it only makes them giggle even more than they already are. Jisoo’s thankful that you’re turned away from her right now -- she has to bite her lip to contain the dorky grin on her face.

~~~~~~~

Upon entering the kitchen, you retrieve two aprons from the hook located beside the other entryway. The room is spacious and open, with plenty of countertop to work on and even an island in the middle. Perfect, you think to yourself. Jisoo leans into you as she wraps the material of the apron around your form, securing it in place with a light tug. You help her right after, and try hard not to get distracted by the warmth that radiates from her. 

To anyone other than the two of you, getting so flustered over such a simple act would seem ridiculous. You had long ago mastered the art of subtlety, though, quickly learning how important it is in your line of work. In a weird way, being so restricted added even more meaning to the small things -- light touches asking, “How was your day?”, soft smiles saying, “I’ve missed you.” Everything had a hidden message, a secret purpose between the two interacting. You spoke without words, living in a realm of quiet boldness.  

Now, equally as giddy in each other's presence, the two of you begin cooking.

~~~~~~~

By some miracle, you had managed to whip out a fairly big meal for everyone in just under an hour. The spread consisted of ramen, tteokbokki, dumplings, soup, and some other random things your members requested. Quickly, everyone is called into the dining room, and they begin making their plates. 

“Crap, I’ll be right back. I forgot to cut up the veggies.” You announce as you set off back to the kitchen, a pep in your step; preparing the food had made you realize just how hungry you are, and you want to hurry back. Perhaps that’s where your mistake laid; about halfway through the batch of veggies, in the rushed state that you were in, you miscalculated the slice, and the sharp edge of the knife cut into your finger. It wasn’t too deep, but it was enough to draw blood immediately, the red liquid running down your hand without restraint. 

“Oww!!” You call out to no one in particular as the pain seeps in.

At the sound of your strained voice, Jisoo practically races to the kitchen to check on you. The other members are concerned too, but they know that she’ll take care of you. (Besides, they’re busy chowing down on the food... but we won’t mention that). 

“Y/N?? What happened?” She’s frightened, completely worried about you. 

You fill her in to the best of your ability, feeling a little lightheaded as you catch a glimpse of your hand. She wraps you in her embrace, steadying you, and grabs a towel. You’re unable to stop the pained hiss that leaves you at the pressure she adds to the tender skin in order to stop the bleeding. She sends you a regretful look, paired with a quick sorry, as she walks you to the bathroom.

Once there, she puts the lid down, carefully setting you down on the toilet. The cold surface of the porcelain makes you tense up, but it’s successful in taking your mind off the pain, if nothing else. Your eyes shyly trail up her body as she stands on her tippy toes, stretching up to reach the top shelf of the medicine cabinet. How does she manage to always look so good?

“Here, let’s rinse it off first.” It’s a request and a command wrapped into one, and you readily agree. One of her arms loops around your waist as she helps you stand, and you hold onto her with your good hand. She tries not to think about how your fingertips run over her collarbone, lightly stroking the skin there, absentmindedly. Focus, Jisoo, she tells herself. Even with the slight grimace on your face, you look breathtaking. After all, you’re art to her -- she would spend hours studying you if she could, imprinting every detail of you into her mind. 

You lean against the smooth counter of the sink, feeling your hip bones press onto it, and you wobble a bit. Jisoo notices this, but both of her hands are busy with cleaning your injured one off -- thus, she does the next best thing: gently, she repositions herself so that one of her legs is behind you, and she presses her own hips into you. Once you’re secured against the counter, she puts her focus back on her previous task. Meanwhile your brain is having trouble functioning at the proximity of your bodies; she’s being bold. You steal a glance at her in the mirror, but she appears cool and collected -- the complete opposite of you right now. 

After the bleeding has slowed dramatically, she returns you to your seat and grabs the bandages. She crouches in front of you, a reassuring smile on her lips as she makes sure you’re feeling okay. Once your finger is patched up, she takes you by surprise: she places a small kiss to it, her hands still cradled around yours lovingly. 

Likely from the blood loss, a strange surge of confidence comes over you, and you reach forward to run your thumb across her bottom lip. She’s a little shocked, with how her eyes open a little wider and her breath hitches. The two of you stay like that, looking at each other, a silent war of wills being waged. 

In that instant, Jisoo is forced to confront her feelings. She had long ago lost count of how many times she’s wanted to kiss you. To feel your body aligned with hers, your racing heart against her chest, minds running wild with all of the new possibilities being unlocked. It would be a huge step, no doubt -- one that offered no chance to turn back, no place for fear to reside any longer. It would feel like finally solving a puzzle, all of the pieces coming together in just the right ways. As terrifying as that leap would be to make, Jisoo would do it for you. The idea became a little less daunting with every step closer the two of you got to one another.

And so, she does. Jisoo leans forward fairly quickly, capturing your lips in a hesitant kiss -- if she would’ve gone slower, she knows she would’ve chickened out. A light tremble runs through her, proving just how nervous she is. At first, you relax into the kiss, moving your lips against hers in perfect time; once your brain catches up with your heart, though, you pull away. 

“I- I can’t,” you stutter out, mind still a little foggy at what just went down. You lick your lips without really meaning to.

Her expression quickly dims, now looking dejected at your rejection. As she goes to stand, one of your hands lands on the collar of her shirt, holding her in place -- you don’t want her to misunderstand you.

“If we do that, I won’t be able to stop myself.” 

“Who says we have to? I’m sick of holding back.” Her hands are resting on your thighs now, eyes watching you intently as she waits for your response. She’s just a breath away from you, sitting right in the palm of your hand. 

You panic and say, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

Your change of heart confuses her, but she respects your wishes nonetheless. Just as quickly as she had appeared before, she’s gone, leaving you to think about what just happened. 

You sit there, already missing her presence, and you hate yourself a little more. How could you be so stupid? The opportunity was right there, ripe for the taking, circumstances perfectly aligned, and yet you let it all slip away. Even still, your mind justifies your cowardice for fear of the fall out that would ensue. This is for the best, though it hurts. Keeping Jisoo at arm’s length in the name of protecting her had become the customary thing to do, and you fell right back into the habit. To be with her is to limit her, and you can’t bear the thought of that. She deserves to be showered with love and attention all the time, not hidden away and forced into secret meetings. What kind of life would that be?

~~~~~~~

The rest of the evening hosts a newfound tension, one full of uncertainty and longing. The two of you are deep in your thoughts, neither of you knowing where to go from here. She tries to forget how your lips felt, the rhythm that they fell into with hers; but she can’t get it out of her head.  

Before long, your members decide to call it a night, and you’re being whisked away. Somehow, it’s a combination of exactly what you want, and the complete opposite -- what are you to do now? Where do you stand with Jisoo? Your feelings are so overwhelming that it’s almost too much to handle; so many questions float around in your mind, begging to be answered by her. 

Quick goodbyes are given, and you can’t find it in yourself to even hold her gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. Surely you’ve hurt her: knowing that fact is bad enough -- you can’t stand the thought of seeing the pain in her eyes, her smile even a little faded because of your own doing. It tears you up, and your speedy exit is a testament to that.

~~~~~~~

2:41 AM

You’ve spent the better part of the night tossing and turning with no hope of getting any sleep, no end in sight for this self-made torture. Regret runs through you every time you replay the events that unfolded, and you feel a little more hopeless with each passing second. 

Why did she have to kiss you? It’s impossible to contain your feelings now, the emotions far too abundant to be bottled up any longer. Your lips remember how hers moved against them, her gloss spreading at the contact. She tasted like some tropical fruit, sweet and foreign on your tongue. Being with her is like taking a late night drive through the city, windows rolled down with the radio playing your favorite songs. She makes everything feel possible, somehow, and you secretly love the spontaneity of it all. You want more than anything to just give in, to relent after all this time. Clearly she feels the same, right? If that kiss meant anything, then surely she did. So why should you care about the rest of it? If being with you is what she wants, who are you to deny her?

~~~~~~~

“Y/N?” Her voice is sleepy, yet it still holds a layer of shock; likely given the fact that you’re at her door at such an ungodly hour. 

“Did I wake you up?” 

She pauses for a beat, seemingly deciding on what to say, before replying, “...no. I can’t sleep.” 

“Neither can I,” you confess, hoping that she’ll put two and two together. 

“Listen, I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have done that without asking first.” For a second, your heart stops, and you almost chicken out again. 

“I’m glad you did, Jisoo. Because it made me realize how much I like you.” You listen to your heart, the admission coming out more confident than you expected. 

She’s stunned, to say the least, her eyes blinking a few times in confusion. “I thought--” she starts, but you interrupt her.

“I’ve spent all of this time pushing you away when all I’ve ever wanted was to be close to you. To be with you. I’m just so scared of what people will say, you know? There’s no turning back after that.”

“I wouldn’t want to, Y/N. I’d rather be happy with you than live like this. To hell with them, they’re always gonna have something to say about us. You and I can figure it all out together.” She smiles at the end of her statement, a tender hue in her eyes that you’ve never quite seen before. 

As you stand there in her doorway, the slight chill of the night breeze ghosting over your skin, giving you goosebumps, everything clicks. It feels like coming home, something that was always destined to be, and you can tell she feels it, too. You close the distance, finally allowing your walls to crumble away. Her arms are around you, and her presence is actively soothing any remaining fears you may have. Only she is capable of that; you’ve never felt safer than when you’re with her. You run a hand down her arm, lacing your fingers with her own in a sweet embrace. She relaxes into you, now able to trust that you won’t leave. 

Though the kisses started off sweet, they’ve turned more desperate; the two of you are eager to make up for lost time, after all. Following an especially bruising kiss, you pull away breathlessly, and rest your forehead against hers. “Can I come in?” You ask shyly, ducking your head down a bit. Two of her fingers hook underneath your chin, raising your head so that your eyes can meet hers. “I’m not letting you get away this time.” With that, the two of you retreat to her room, hand in hand. You spend the night tangled up in each other, joining forces to write your new destiny together from scratch. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for reading!!!

You Return From War After Being Presumed Dead

Pairing: Eliza Schuyler x Fem Reader

HC Count: 12

Summary: After you’re sent to war and subsequently not heard from, everyone thinks you were killed. Eliza tries to accept it, but she can’t. She doesn’t have to, thankfully; you return home, bloodied and bruised from battle, but alive and still as in love with her as ever.

Warnings / Misc. : Presumed Death of Reader, Bit of Angst, Fluff

A/N: Hey all! In honor of Hamilton being released on Disney Plus, (and thus my brain giving me some inspiration to write), here are some headcanons for you! I’ve never written these before, and this is also my first time writing for Eliza. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated. Happy reading!

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“Eliza, she’d want you to be happy. You know how much she loved seeing you smile.” Hercules says bittersweetly.

A wistful look takes over her features. Coming to terms with the fact that you had likely been killed in battle was the most painful thing she’s experienced, and she’d be lying if she said she was over it. She knew, as well as everyone else, that you were the one for her. 

“Ready?” Angelica asks gently, knowing her sister is still grieving. Seeing the throngs of soldiers returning home to their families was clearly not an easy thing for her. Everyone had taken your death extremely hard, but none so much as Eliza.

 As your family and friends make their way out of the city, the atmosphere around them is heavy with sadness. It stands in stark contrast with the neighboring, joyous reunions of so many others. This is changed, however, when loud bells chime once more in the distance. “More soldiers are arriving!” Someone shouts, running towards the docks. Eliza’s heart skips a beat, never wanting to lose hope. She looks towards the others, trying to gauge their reactions. Should they go check or just accept the inevitable? Something inside her tells her to wait, just a little longer. Your parting words echo throughout her mind: Wait for me, I’ll come home to you. And so, she does. She’s convinced that she’d wait an eternity for you if she had to.

“Y/N!” Another soldier cries out, limping quickly across the square. She recognizes his voice as Robert, your childhood friend and confidant. She makes an effort to keep her hopes low as she spins around, but that’s easier said than done.

Her breath hitches at what she sees. You’re hugging him happily, an incredulous look on your face as it rests on his shoulder. Surprise isn’t the word you’re looking for; it doesn’t suffice. After all, almost everyone in his battalion was killed -- you feared you’d never see him again.

As if on cue, your eyes raise to hers from across the way. In an instant, she’s practically flying to you, dying to have you in her arms once again. Robert takes a step back, allowing her to wrap you in a long-overdue embrace. 

Her eyes well with tears, all of her emotions hitting her at once. She starts to speak, but halts when she realizes that words simply aren’t adequate in expressing how she feels. 

“I know.” You reassure her, one hand cupping her cheek as the other rests on her lower back. She rests her forehead against yours, letting her tears flow freely. “This is a miracle. We all thought you were gone... I didn’t know what to do with myself.” She sniffles, and you feel your heart break. You truly hate to see her cry. “I did everything in my power to get word to you, but there was little that we could do when were informed that our group of messengers were murdered by British officers. I’m sorry, Eliza.” 

She responds by pulling you closer, softly whispering, “Shhh. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. I love you.” Gently, she presses a kiss to your lips. It feels new and yet familiar all at once; almost as if you’re rediscovering one another. For months on end she prayed to any and every power in existence: just send her home to me, that would be enough. And finally, her prayers had been answered.

As glad as you are to have all of your loved ones there, you can’t help but want to run away from everything with Eliza. You’d spent countless nights dreaming of holding her again, swaying to whatever sweet melody she was singing at the moment. During those long nights without her, in the cold, unforgiving trenches, you could almost recall the smell of her favorite perfume. You always made a note to buy her some more when you managed to make it back. She was the only thing getting you through that war, so naturally you’re eager to spend every minute possible with her.

She began to give everyone some space to greet you, but you gingerly grab her hand, an unspoken request for her to stay by your side. She readily agrees, smiling as you’re tearfully welcomed home by everyone.  

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.