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w1w2 · 10 days ago

Text

Twin

Jennie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 13k

Synopsis: After leaving Jennie before their debut, Y/N never truly moved on. But when she hears Jennie’s latest song, old wounds resurface along with unanswered questions. Will they finally face the past they never truly left behind?

Requested by Anon

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The dim glow of the studio monitors cast long, flickering shadows across the empty room. The only sound was the soft hum of the speakers, filling the space with something hauntingly familiar. Y/N sat motionless before the mixing board, fingers resting against the cool metal fader, her other hand curled into a loose fist on her lap.

A slow inhale. A sharp exhale.

She had produced this track for an artist under SM, a rising soloist with a delicate voice, the kind that carried emotion effortlessly. But no matter how hard she tried to separate herself from it, the song was not theirs.

It was hers.

The chord progression, the way the notes stretched like fingertips reaching for something already gone, the way the vocalist’s voice wavered, just barely, on the high notes. It wasn’t just music. It was a memory.

The kind of song that felt like déjà vu, like standing in the middle of a dream where you already knew the ending but wished, desperately, that this time it would be different.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Y/N allowed herself to sink into it.

And then the chorus hit.

Her breath caught, the sound cutting through her like glass. The ache in the melody, it wasn’t just familiar. It was identical.

Identical to the way Jennie’s voice used to tremble at 2 AM when exhaustion pressed too heavily on her bones. Identical to the way she used to hum mindlessly between practice sessions, back when they were just kids chasing a dream too big for their hands.

Identical to the way she had sounded the night Y/N walked away. A phantom pain bloomed in her chest, sharp and unforgiving.

Jennie.

The name echoed through her mind like an unfinished lyric.

Before she could stop herself, Y/N’s fingers twitched against the console and pressed pause. The silence that followed was deafening. A deep, suffocating kind of silence, the kind that filled the spaces where words were never said.

The kind Jennie had left behind.

Y/N swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as if it would push back the burn in her eyes. She had spent years perfecting the art of walking away, leaving the past where it belonged.

But some things, no matter how much time passed, never really left.

Y/N exhaled slowly, her pulse still uneven from the song that had been playing just moments ago. The weight in her chest hadn’t lifted, it had only settled deeper, like an anchor dragging her down.

Without thinking, she turned away from the soundboard, her gaze landing on the wooden desk drawer beside her. A familiar habit. A dangerous one.

Her fingers hesitated for only a second before curling around the handle.

The drawer creaked open.

Inside, a neat stack of envelopes lay in quiet confession. The edges were worn, yellowing slightly with age, some folded so many times the creases had nearly torn through the paper. A graveyard of words left unsaid.

Letters.

Dozens of them, written in moments of weakness. Moments when the silence was too loud. When she had wanted to reach out but couldn’t. When she had almost broken her promise to stay gone.

Her fingertips ghosted over the stack, tracing the curves of her own handwriting on the front of each envelope. Always addressed to the same person.

Back then, writing had been the only thing that kept her from drowning. Because if she wrote to Jennie, she could pretend, just for a little while, that Jennie was still listening.

Her hand wavered before settling on the letter at the very top.

The first one.

She had written it the night she left. Alone in a hotel room, the city lights blurring through the rain-streaked window, the world outside moving forward while she sat frozen in place.

She lifted the fragile paper, its corners slightly curled, the ink smudged in places where her hands had gripped it too tightly. Her handwriting was smaller than usual, hesitant. As if even the letters had known they weren’t meant to reach their destination.

But she didn’t need to open it. She already knew what it said.

Jennie, I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, but I need you to know. I never wanted to leave you…

Her chest tightened.

The words had felt like a confession then. Now, they felt like a wound that never fully healed.

She squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the letter so tightly it crumpled slightly between her fingers. How pathetic was this? After all these years, Jennie’s name still had this power over her.

A sharp knock at the door shattered the moment.

Y/N inhaled sharply, stuffing the letter back into the drawer, slamming it shut before turning around. Like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just been holding the past in her hands.

The knock had barely faded when the door creaked open.

“Y/N, you in here?”

Minhyuk stood in the doorway, a tablet in one hand, a takeout coffee in the other. His usual easygoing expression was tinged with something more hesitant today, like he wasn’t sure if he should be here.

“You didn’t answer my messages,” he said, stepping inside and placing the coffee on the desk. “Figured you were drowning in work again.”

Y/N forced a small smile. “Lost track of time.”

“Figured.” He gestured to the screens. “You working on the final mix for the new soloist?”

“Yeah, just tightening up the chorus.” She reached for the coffee, grateful for the excuse to keep her hands busy. The warmth seeped through the cup, grounding her.

Minhyuk hummed in approval, but then his gaze flickered, just for a second, toward the drawer she had shut only moments ago. He didn’t say anything, but she could tell he’d noticed her tension.

And then, just as she was about to steer the conversation back to work, he said it.

“Oh, have you heard? Jennie Kim is releasing an album.”

Y/N froze, just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.

Minhyuk didn’t notice, or maybe he did and chose to ignore it. “You must’ve heard about it. Everyone’s been talking about it since Mantra dropped. But there are rumors that the album includes a really personal song.”

Her stomach twisted.

She pressed her lips together, keeping her expression neutral. “Good for her.”

Minhyuk took a sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim of the cup. “Looks like it’s gonna be a big one.”

Y/N nodded, forcing herself to appear indifferent. “She always does well.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, but there was something searching in his gaze, something cautious. “It’s just… a lot of people are saying it’s different this time. That it’s, like, deeply personal.” He paused, as if debating whether to say more. “Some fans think that one of the songs is about someone specific. Her ex to be exact.”

The words hit her somewhere deep, but she refused to let them show. Instead, she let out a small, dry laugh. “Fans say a lot of things.”

Minhyuk studied her for a moment longer before shaking his head with a smirk. “You really never crack, huh?”

She only shrugged.

Minhyuk hesitated but didn’t push further. Instead, he tapped his tablet against his palm. “Anyway, we have a meeting in twenty. Thought I’d remind you before you bury yourself in work again.”

“I’ll be there,” she assured him.

With that, he nodded and stepped back into the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar.

The room fell silent again.

Y/N let out a slow breath, turning back to the desk. Her gaze fell to the drawer, the one that held years of words she never said, years of pain she never let herself feel.

She didn’t reach for it this time.

Instead, she grabbed her headphones and pressed play on the track she had been working on. She drowned out the silence with music.

The track she had been working on filled the studio, soft yet aching, each note stretching like a half-formed memory. It was a good song, melancholic, intentional, but something about it felt unfinished. Like a letter that trailed off before the final words.

She leaned back in her chair, eyes flickering to the coffee Minhyuk had left behind. The steam had faded, but the scent still lingered, warm, familiar. It reminded her of another time, another studio.

A different cup of coffee, set beside a messy pile of lyric sheets. Fingers wrapped around hers, a quiet giggle in the dimly lit room.

"Here, try mine. You’ll like it better."

A decade had passed, but the memory was still sharp. Y/N let her eyes close, just for a moment, letting it pull her under.

And just like that, she was back.

The YG practice rooms were never truly quiet.

Even at 3 AM, the building still pulsed with life. Music drifted through the halls, some tracks half-finished, others playing on a loop as trainees pushed through exhaustion. Sneakers scuffed against polished floors. Distant voices hummed unfinished melodies, notes blending into the steady hum of the air conditioning.

Inside one of those rooms, Y/N sat with her back against the mirror, legs stretched out in front of her, damp strands of hair clinging to her skin. Her limbs were sore, but it was the kind of ache that felt good. The kind that reminded her she was getting closer.

Across from her, Jennie lay sprawled on the floor, arms stretched wide, her chest rising and falling in deep, measured breaths. She was still catching her breath from their last run-through, sweat glistening at her temples.

“We’re insane,” Y/N muttered, tilting her head against the cool glass. “It’s literally the middle of the night.”

Jennie turned her head, dark eyes glinting under the fluorescent lights. “So? You’re still here.”

Y/N huffed, but a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Yeah, well. Someone has to make sure you don’t pass out from overworking yourself.”

Jennie grinned, slow and lazy, rolling onto her side to face her. “That’s cute. You think you’re the responsible one.”

Y/N nudged her shin with the tip of her shoe. “Shut up.”

Jennie laughed, that soft, breathy sound that Y/N had grown to love. It wasn’t the polished laugh Jennie used for cameras, nor the teasing one she shared with their members in training. No, this was different, quieter, realer, something only meant for moments like this.

The room settled into silence, the kind that stretched without pressure.The track they had been practicing to had ended long ago, but neither of them moved to play another.

With Jennie, silence never felt empty. It wasn’t the kind that begged to be filled with meaningless words or restless movements. Instead, it settled around them like a familiar melody, unspoken, but understood.

Jennie shifted beside her, pushing herself up onto her elbows, her gaze drifting toward the ceiling.

"Do you ever think about it?"

Y/N turned her head slightly, studying the way Jennie’s expression softened in thought. "Think about what?"

Jennie let out a slow breath, her voice quieter now. "The future. What it’s going to be like when we debut."

Y/N smirked, tilting her head.

"When, huh? Not if?"

Jennie turned to her then, one brow arched, eyes sharp despite her exhaustion. "Are you planning to fail?"

Y/N chuckled, lifting her hands in mock surrender. "Fair point."

Jennie rolled her eyes but didn’t hide the small smile playing at her lips. "Come on, just humor me."

Y/N sighed, leaning her head back against the mirror, pretending to think. “Alright. Let’s see… We debut, obviously. Become the biggest girl group in Korea. You’ll be the ace. Rap, vocals, visuals, everything. I’ll be the chaotic fan favorite.”

Jennie let out a quiet snort, shaking her head in amusement.

"Obviously."

Y/N’s grin widened. "We’ll travel the world, win Daesangs, perform at Coachella… make history." She said it like it was inevitable, like the universe had already carved their names into the stars.

Jennie’s smile softened, the teasing glint in her eyes fading into something quieter, something more fragile. She hesitated, just for a second, before murmuring, "Together?"

Y/N’s breath caught.

It was one word, simple, almost careless. But it wasn’t casual. Not when Jennie was looking at her like that, like the answer meant everything. Like Jennie was asking about more than just debuting.

Y/N swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. The air between them felt heavier, warmer, charged with something unspoken.

She wet her lips. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Together.”

Jennie held her gaze for a second longer before dropping her head back against the floor with a soft sigh.

“Good,” she whispered.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Their bodies were exhausted, but their hearts felt light. They were young, stupid, reckless, and completely convinced they could take on the world.

The countdown to debut should have been the most exciting time of their lives. Instead, it was suffocating.

Every morning began with a weigh-in. The number on the scale determined everything, how much they ate, how much they trained, how much they were worth in the eyes of the company. If it wasn’t low enough, there were consequences. Extra hours of cardio. Meals taken away. A warning that they were replaceable.

“Idols don’t have baby fat,” the trainers would sneer. “You either lose it, or you lose your spot.”

Y/N quickly learned how to quiet her hunger, how to sip on ice water until the gnawing in her stomach became something distant, something easier to ignore. Jennie was better at pretending it didn’t bother her, but Y/N saw the way she gripped the sink each morning, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

Then came the rehearsals.

16-hour training days that stretched long into the night. Choreographers drilled them relentlessly, barking corrections that burned like lashes across their skin.

“Again. Again. Again.”

It didn’t matter if their legs shook from exhaustion, if their bodies screamed for rest, they weren’t allowed to stop. Mistakes weren’t tolerated. Trainees who couldn’t keep up disappeared without warning.

Evaluations were worse.

Every month, they stood in a cold, silent room while executives picked them apart like livestock at an auction. Their singing, their dancing, their faces, their bodies, everything was up for scrutiny.

“Your voice lacks color.” “Your expressions are lifeless.” “Your thighs are still too thick.”

Each critique carved into them, piece by piece, until they were hollow enough to be filled with whatever the company wanted them to be.

Privacy was a luxury they no longer had. Cameras watched their every move, managers monitored their diets, and every word they spoke felt like it could be overheard. They weren’t just trainees, they were investments, carefully molded into perfection. People stopped seeing them as girls with dreams and started seeing them as future idols, marketable and polished.

At first, Y/N convinced herself it was all part of the process. The exhaustion, the hunger, the bruises, just stepping stones on the path to success. Endure it now, and the reward will come later.

Jennie believed that, too.

“It’s just for now,” she’d murmur against Y/N’s temple in the quiet hours of the night, when the world outside the practice room ceased to exist. “Once we debut, it’ll get better.”

In those stolen moments, half-asleep, bodies aching, they allowed themselves to dream. They whispered about the future, about the world tours they’d conquer, the awards they’d win, the music they’d make together.

"Just a little longer," Jennie would say, fingers brushing against Y/N’s wrist, grounding them both. "We’re so close."

And Y/N wanted, desperately, to believe her.

But it didn’t get better.

The closer they got to debut, the worse it became. Training days stretched into sleepless nights, their bodies pushed beyond their limits, their minds fraying at the edges. Hunger settled in their bones, exhaustion blurred the weeks together, and there was no room to stop, no space to breathe.

Speaking out wasn’t an option. Complaining wasn’t tolerated. Refusing wasn’t allowed. Instead, they were met with the same cold reminder.

“Do you know how many girls would kill for this opportunity?”

So Y/N forced herself to keep going. She swallowed down her doubts, shoved away her exhaustion, ignored the nagging voice in her head that whispered, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

And then the rumors started.

Trainees gossiping in hushed voices, stolen glances from staff members, managers suddenly checking their phones more often when Jennie and Y/N were around.

At first, they ignored it.

Rumors were always circulating in YG. Someone was dating. Someone was getting kicked out. Someone had secretly undergone plastic surgery. It was just noise, the kind that came with living under constant surveillance.

But this time, the whispers followed them wherever they went.

“Did you hear?” “I thought they were just close, but…” “They’re reckless. Don’t they know how strict the company is?”

Jennie brushed it off, insisting it would pass. But Y/N saw the way she glanced over her shoulder more often, how her fingers hesitated before reaching for Y/N’s hand when no one was looking.

Then, the instructors started watching them more closely.

At first, it was just glances, lingering a second too long, a shift in tone, corrections that felt more like warnings. Then, it became something else. Their critiques grew sharper, no longer about technique but about image. Something had changed. Someone had been watching.

One night, as they were gathering their things after practice, a voice cut through the air.

"Jennie. Y/N. The executives want to see you."

A slow, sinking feeling settled in Y/N’s stomach, heavy and inescapable.

They knew.

The office was eerily silent when they stepped inside, the kind of silence that made it impossible to breathe. A long table stretched before them, lined with YG’s higher-ups, their faces blank, detached, impossible to read. The air was thick with something unspoken, pressing against Y/N’s ribs like a weight she couldn’t shake.

Jennie sat beside her, back rigid, hands clenched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles turned white. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them had to.

One of the executives leaned forward, threading his fingers together, his voice slow and measured, as if he were delivering nothing more than a routine business report. "We’ve been hearing things."

Y/N felt her pulse quicken, the cold weight in her stomach turning to ice.

"Things that cannot be tolerated."

The words were devoid of emotion, as if everything they had given, the sleepless nights, the injuries, the sacrifices, meant nothing in the face of company policy. It didn’t matter that they had spent years molding themselves into perfection, shaping every breath, every movement, every thought to fit into the carefully curated image of an idol.

As if they were disposable. As if they hadn’t bled for this dream.

"You know the rules."

No dating. No distractions. No personal lives. The meaning was clear. Idols belonged to the company. Not to themselves.

Jennie inhaled sharply beside her, the sound barely audible, but Y/N could feel the way she tensed, her fingers twitching slightly before curling into fists.

She already knew what they were going to say, but still, when the words came, they hit like a knife straight to the gut.

"End it."

Jennie didn’t move. She didn’t argue, didn’t beg, didn’t fight, not here, not in front of them, but Y/N could feel the way her body locked beside her, the way her breath turned unsteady, the way her silence screamed louder than any words ever could.

"If this continues, there will be consequences."

It wasn’t a warning. It was a command.

Silence stretched between them, suffocating, unyielding. Y/N forced herself to lift her gaze, to meet their eyes even as her throat burned with the weight of everything she couldn’t say.

Debut or love.

They weren’t allowed to have both.

The practice room was empty, yet the air felt thick, pressing down on them like a weight neither of them could shake. The mirrors stretched endlessly around them, reflecting back the ghosts of everything they had been, everything they were about to lose.

Jennie sat cross legged on the floor, her head bowed, strands of dark hair falling over her face like a curtain. Her hands were clasped in her lap, fingers curled too tightly, as if she were trying to hold herself together. Y/N stood a few feet away, arms wrapped around herself, but it did nothing to stop the unraveling.

It was almost cruel.

This room had been their sanctuary once. The place where late night practices blurred into whispered dreams, where exhaustion faded into laughter, where stolen moments made all the suffering feel worthwhile. Now, it would be the place where it all ended.

Jennie exhaled slowly, but Y/N could hear the tremble in it.

"Stay with me."

The words were soft, barely more than a breath, but they struck like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.

Y/N’s hands curled into fists at her sides. She wanted to stay. God, she wanted to.

But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t keep starving, breaking, hiding. Couldn’t keep swallowing herself whole just to fit inside someone else’s mold. Couldn’t keep hoping for a future that had never really been theirs to begin with.

Jennie lifted her gaze then, eyes glossy, filled with something raw and desperate.

"Just a little longer."

Her voice cracked, splintering at the edges, and Y/N felt something inside her shatter along with it.

That was all Jennie had ever asked of her. Just a little longer. Just a little more pain. Just a little more sacrifice. Just a little more of herself.

But what was left of her to give?

Jennie was built for this world. Born to endure. Made to shine. She could withstand the pain, the hunger, the scrutiny, because she saw something beyond it, something worth all the suffering. Y/N didn’t. Not anymore.

Her throat tightened. She forced herself to swallow, to breathe, to push past the ache clawing at her ribs.

"I can’t."

Jennie flinched, a sharp inhale, like she’d been struck.

Silence stretched between them, heavy, unbearable. Y/N’s body screamed at her to take it back, to say anything to ease the hurt in Jennie’s eyes, to promise that they would find a way to survive this.

But Jennie said nothing.

Her lips parted, as if she wanted to fight, to beg, to convince Y/N to hold on just a little longer, but the words never came. Slowly, her shoulders dropped, her fingers loosened, her posture crumbled just enough for Y/N to see the heartbreak bleeding through the cracks.

And Y/N knew.

Jennie would never beg. Not for this. Not even for her.

Even with unshed tears clinging to her lashes, Jennie was still Jennie Kim. Poised, composed, unshakable. The girl who was meant to stand beneath the brightest lights, adored by millions.

Y/N had never felt smaller. She took a step back. Then another.

Jennie’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move. She wouldn’t stop her. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she loved her too much to make her stay.

At the door, Y/N hesitated. She looked back at the girl who had been her best friend, her first love, her home. She wanted to say something, anything, to make this hurt less.

But there was nothing.

So she turned and walked away. Jennie didn’t call after her.

The memory lived in the back of her mind, untouched for years, buried beneath time and distance. But some things never truly fade. Some moments linger, surfacing when least expected, like now, as she stood in her apartment, heart pounding, breath unsteady.

Y/N wasn’t running. Not really.

She told herself that over and over again as she threw a few essentials into a duffel bag, grabbed her headphones, and booked the earliest train out of the city. This wasn’t avoidance. It was just… space. A temporary retreat. A weekend to breathe.

But even as the train pulled out of Seoul Station, she could still feel it, the weight of the day pressing against her chest, the buzz of the city trailing after her like a shadow. It was inescapable.

Jennie Kim had finally released her first full-length solo album, and the world was losing its mind.

Seoul had been unbearable today, an electric storm of flashing billboards, trending hashtags, and endless conversations orbiting around one person. It didn’t matter where she went, studios, streets, every screen, every voice, every radio station played the same name on repeat.

Jennie. Jennie. Jennie.

The Jennie Kim. Global icon. Record breaking artist. The kind of star who didn’t just shine, she burned, leaving an imprint on everything she touched.

The album had dropped at midnight, and the industry had erupted.

Critics were already calling it a masterpiece, the kind of project that defined not just a career, but an era. Fans flooded social media, dissecting every track, every lyric, every hidden meaning buried in Jennie’s music. Industry giants were hailing it as one of the most important albums of the decade.

Y/N had spent years in the industry herself, just on the other side of it. She knew exactly what today meant.

And she wanted no part of it.

For years, she had kept her head down, working behind the scenes as a producer, crafting music for idols who still had stars in their eyes. She had built a name for herself in a different way, one that didn’t demand cameras flashing in her face, one that let her create without suffocating under the expectations that came with it.

She had done everything right. She had moved forward. She had left that life, that dream, that person behind.

And yet, no matter how much distance she put between herself and the past, some things never really let go.

So she left.

Booked a train ticket to Busan, let Seoul shrink behind her, let the rhythmic hum of the tracks drown out the noise in her head. Maybe, if she was lucky, a different sky, a different city would quiet the ache that still refused to fade.

The waves stretched lazily toward her feet before slipping away again, their rhythm steady, hypnotic. The scent of salt lingered in the air, mingling with the faint traces of grilled seafood and coffee drifting from the boardwalk behind her. Somewhere in the distance, the city hummed, soft, unobtrusive, distant enough to fade into the background.

Busan was quieter than Seoul, but even here, life pulsed on. Couples wandered along the shore, their laughter carried by the wind. A few kids chased each other near the water, their shrieks of joy rising over the waves.

Y/N stayed where she was, hoodie pulled low over her face, sneakers half buried in the cool sand. She had been sitting here for hours, watching the sky melt from soft blue to gold, then to dusky pink.

Her phone lay beside her, screen dim, playing through an old-school R&B playlist. The kind of music that had always been a comfort. Something soft. Something familiar. Something that didn’t hurt.

Ashanti’s voice drifted through her earbuds, blending seamlessly with the crash of the tide. She wasn’t really listening. The songs bled together, fading into the background, nothing more than a quiet hum to fill the silence.

She let her mind drift, let the wind pull at the loose strands of her hair, let herself breathe. For the first time in a long time, there was nothing pressing down on her chest.

And then.

"It’s like I’m writing a letter And I put in a twelve-ounce bottle of Heineken…"

Y/N’s breath stilled.

A quiet tension gripped her muscles before her mind could even process why. Something about the voice, the melody, the way the words settled in the air around her, it struck like a presence she hadn’t expected, hadn’t prepared for.

Then, recognition crashed into her, swift and unforgiving.

Jennie.

She jolted upright so fast that her hands slipped against the sand, sending grains spilling over her jeans. Her heart pounded as she fumbled for her phone, barely registering the cold metal beneath her fingers. The screen lit up in the dimming light, and there it was, staring back at her.

twin – JENNIE

The world tilted slightly.

Of all the songs in the world, of all the tracks that could have shuffled into her playlist, it had to be this one. Out of the millions of possibilities, it had to be her.

Jennie’s voice poured through the speakers, smooth and deliberate, carrying a weight that settled deep in Y/N’s chest. There was something sharp beneath it, something quiet and unrelenting, threading itself between her ribs like a whisper she couldn’t ignore.

"I didn’t leave ya, I still see ya When I’m bumping Ashanti, yeah, on the beach, yeah."

A slow, unsteady breath left Y/N’s lips, but it wasn’t enough to steady her. The air caught in her throat, tangled somewhere between disbelief and something heavier, something dangerous.

Her grip tightened around the phone, fingers pressing into the edges as if grounding herself would make a difference. But the truth was, it wouldn’t. Because this wasn’t just a song. It wasn’t some distant, abstract heartbreak ballad written for a faceless love lost to time.

It was them.

Every lyric, every pause, every aching note, it was a story, and she was in it. Jennie wasn’t just singing about the past. She wasn’t just weaving a melody out of old wounds and untold confessions.

She was remembering. She was reliving it.

And now, so was Y/N.

Y/N’s nails dug into her palm, the sharp bite of pain a desperate attempt to keep herself anchored, to keep the past from crashing into her all at once. It was a losing battle. The memories rose too fast, too strong, slipping through the cracks she had spent years sealing shut.

She had told herself that she won’t think about that night anymore, that time had softened it, blurred the edges, made it something distant, something she could acknowledge without feeling.

But music had a way of unearthing things.

And this wasn’t just music.

The practice room flickered to life behind her eyelids, the weight of silence pressing down like it had all those years ago. The air had been thick, stifling, full of things neither of them knew how to say. Jennie’s voice had been so small, so unlike her usual sharp confidence, just a whisper, but it had wrecked her.

Stay with me.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, as if that could erase the memory, as if she could unhear the way Jennie’s voice had cracked, as if she could unfeel the unbearable pull in her chest that had begged her to say yes.

But she hadn’t.

She had walked away.

And now, years later, sitting on a quiet beach miles away from the life she had once fought to escape, it didn’t matter how much distance she had put between them. The ache still lived inside her, dormant but never gone.

She had left Seoul to avoid this, to escape the inevitability of Jennie’s voice reaching her, pulling her back into a storm she had spent a decade outrunning.

And yet, here she was, sitting on the sand, staring at a name on her screen, heart breaking open like it was that night all over again.

The ocean stretched endlessly before her, waves lapping in a steady rhythm, unbothered, indifferent. She wished she could feel the same. But no amount of distance, no amount of salt air, could drown out the weight pressing against her ribs.

Two more days. That’s what she told herself. Just two more before she returned to Seoul, to reality, to the mess she had abandoned in her wake.

She should have known better.

Because the past had a way of finding her, no matter how far she ran.

The message came on an otherwise uneventful Tuesday, arriving with the kind of casual audacity that only Wendy and Irene could manage. Y/N had been lost in work, headphones slipping from her ears as she focused on layering harmonies, smoothing imperfections, and details only she would notice. It was muscle memory by now, adjust, refine, perfect. A process that left little room for distractions.

Her phone vibrated against the desk.

She ignored it at first, fingers still moving over the controls, mind still tethered to the track. But the messages kept coming, insistent, persistent. With a sigh, she reached for her phone, expecting nothing more than another dinner invite, another inside joke.

Group Chat.

Wendy: “Guess who has an extra VVIP pass for The Ruby Experience?”

Y/N frowned, the words not quite sinking in at first. The Ruby Experience. She had heard the name countless times in the past days, but never aloud, never in direct relation to herself. The realization settled slowly, creeping in at the edges before striking all at once.

Jennie’s concert.

The first solo concert. The one that had sold out in minutes. The one that was already being hailed as historic before the stage lights had even been tested. The one the entire industry had been waiting for.

A second message followed before she could even process the first.

Irene: “No excuses. You’re coming.”

Wendy: “It’s been years, Y/N.”

Years.

The word lingered longer than it should have, wrapping around her like an unwelcome echo.

She should say no. She wanted to say no. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a response forming on instinct.

Y/N: “I don’t think,”

Another message cut her off.

Irene: “You owe me dinner if you decline.”

Wendy: “And drinks.”

Y/N huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. Cowards. They weren’t even pretending this was about the concert itself. They weren’t pushing just because it was an event, they were pushing because of her.

Because no one had to say Jennie’s name for her presence to be felt. Because no matter how much time had passed, Jennie Kim’s name still carried weight in her chest, still felt dangerous in her mouth.

Like something sacred. Like something broken. Like something she had never really learned to live without.

Y/N: “Fine. But if it gets weird, I’m leaving.”

Her fingers hesitated for the briefest second before pressing send, but it was too late. The message was out, irreversible, the decision made. And yet, as the confirmation flashed on her screen, a sharp knot twisted in her stomach, the finality of it settling in too quickly, too heavily.

She told herself it was just an event. Just one night. A fleeting moment in a crowded venue, nothing more.

But deep down, she knew better.

Because the past had never been content to stay buried, especially not when Jennie Kim was a part of it.

The venue pulsed with energy, an undercurrent of anticipation vibrating through the walls. Even from the seclusion of the VIP lounge, Y/N could feel it, the unmistakable electricity of a sold-out arena, the collective breath of thousands waiting for one woman to take the stage.

Ruby’s signature red bathed the space in a warm glow, a stark contrast to the sleek black leather couches and glasses balanced on polished tables. The industry’s elite moved around her, exchanging handshakes and half-empty compliments, but Y/N barely heard them.

She tried to focus on Irene and Wendy’s conversation, nodding at the right moments, laughing when expected. It should have been easy, pretending, performing. She’d spent years perfecting the art.

But then, the sound of her name, spoken with a mixture of disbelief and something softer, made her shoulders stiffen.

"Y/N?"

She turned.

Rosé stood just a few feet away, a champagne flute hanging loosely from her fingers, forgotten. Her blonde hair framed her face in soft waves, and despite the dim lighting, there was no missing the flicker of recognition in her gaze.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Years.

That’s how long it had been since they had last stood face to face. Since they had last spoken without a stage, a screen, or a continent between them. But there was no hesitation in Rosé’s expression. No bitterness. Just quiet surprise.

"You’re here," she said, as if confirming it for herself.

Y/N swallowed, forcing a small, knowing smile. "So are you."

Rosé let out a breath, shaking her head with a quiet huff. "Flew in from LA yesterday. There was no way I’d miss this."

Of course not.

This was Jennie’s night, the kind of moment no one who had ever truly known her would dare to miss, and they both understood that without needing to say it.

Rosé studied her for a moment, head tilting slightly, something curious, maybe even cautious, flickering in her eyes.

"I didn’t know you’d come," she admitted, her voice softer now, like she was searching for something unspoken in Y/N’s expression.

There were countless ways she could answer, a hundred variations of the truth sitting on the tip of her tongue, each one easier than the one before. But in the end, honesty slipped through before she could stop it.

"Neither did I."

Rosé stilled, lips parting just slightly, something shifting in her gaze, not quite surprise, not quite understanding, but something close to both. Y/N hadn’t planned to be here. She had spent years avoiding moments like this, convincing herself that distance was the only thing keeping her upright.

And yet, despite every reason not to, she had come anyway.

A beat passed, the noise around them fading into something distant, inconsequential. Then, as if remembering herself, Rosé straightened, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You know, I was going to say something smug about how you finally decided to show your face, but…" She hesitated, eyes softening. "I’m just glad to see you."

The sincerity in her voice caught Y/N off guard, settling uncomfortably in her chest. She exhaled, looking down briefly before meeting Rosé’s gaze again.

"Congratulations, by the way."

Rosé blinked, caught off guard for just a second.

"For Rosie," Y/N clarified, her voice even, measured. "And for APT."

For a moment, Rosé said nothing, but something flickered in her expression, first surprise, then warmth, settling into something quieter, something understanding.

"You kept up."

Y/N didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to. The silence between them spoke louder than any words could, carrying years of history, of distance, of things left unsaid.

Slowly, Rosé’s lips curved into a knowing smile, her voice light but edged with something fond. "You’re still terrible at pretending you don’t care."

Y/N exhaled, rolling her eyes, but there was no real bite behind it. She shook her head, already regretting this conversation. "Shut up."

Rosé chuckled, and just like that, the years between them felt a little less heavy. There was still distance, still space carved out by time and choices, but in this moment, neither of them were looking at the past.

Only at what remained.

The moment the lights dimmed, the stadium roared to life. A wall of sound crashed over Y/N, the force of it rattling in her chest, reverberating in her bones. It wasn’t just excitement, it was worship. The kind of adoration reserved for legends.

Thousands of voices called her name.

"Jennie! Jennie! Jennie!"

The ground vibrated beneath her feet, the sheer magnitude of it swallowing the VIP lounge in its wake. And then a single note cut through the chaos.

Low. Resounding.

The stage bathed in red, and Jennie rose.

She emerged from the floor in a slow, deliberate ascent, bathed in crimson light, a vision against the darkness. The opening chords wove through the air like a spell, wrapping around the crowd, pulling them into her world.

The moment she lifted the mic to her lips, the stadium erupted again, the sound near deafening.

And still, she remained untouched by it.

Effortless. Untouchable. A force of nature.

From the lounge, Y/N sat frozen.

She had told herself she was prepared for this. That she was here as a producer, an industry professional watching a fellow artist perform. It was just a concert. Just music.

But as Jennie moved, fluid, commanding, every step measured, every glance deliberate, Y/N felt the slow, creeping realization settle deep in her stomach.

She wasn’t ready.

Not for this. Not for the way Jennie’s voice curled around the lyrics, each note rich and powerful, each song a declaration of who she had become. Not for the way she owned the stage like it had been built for her.

And certainly not for the way she still looked like the same girl Y/N had once loved.

And lost.

Y/N’s fingers tightened around the glass in her hands. She forced herself to focus on the technicalities, the impeccable production, the seamless transitions, the live band swelling beneath Jennie’s vocals.

But it didn’t help.

Not when the stage lights cast shadows along Jennie’s face in a way that felt achingly familiar. Not when the rasp in her voice dragged up memories Y/N had spent years trying to bury.

Jennie was everywhere.

In the way the crowd moved in unison, hanging onto every syllable she uttered. In the way the cameras captured the curve of her smirk, the flicker of something dark and playful in her eyes. In the way she carried herself, not as an idol, not as a performer, but as someone who knew she had already won.

This was the Jennie Kim the world saw. Untouchable. Limitless. A star so bright it was impossible to look away.

But Y/N knew better.

She knew the Jennie behind closed doors. The one who had once held her hand like she was afraid to let go. The one who whispered secrets into the hollow of her throat late at night, voice small and uncertain. The one who had begged her to stay.

Y/N blinked, inhaling sharply, pushing the memory away before it could fully form.

She was fine. She had to be.

This was just music. Just a concert. Nothing more.

And yet, as Jennie’s voice carried through the air, wrapping around the stadium like something tangible, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, she had already lost all over again.

It should have been over.

The hardest part was over, song after song, each a reminder of everything Jennie had become, everything she had achieved. Y/N had watched from a distance, hands curled into fists beneath the table, heartbeat steady even when it shouldn’t have been. She had endured the spectacle, the flashing lights, the deafening cheers that followed Jennie’s every move.

She had made it through.

But then, the arena went dark.

A hush swept through the crowd, anticipation thick in the air. Even before the first note played, something inside Y/N twisted, coiling tight like a premonition she wasn’t ready to face. The silence stretched, unbearably long, until a single beam of light pierced through the darkness.

Jennie stood alone.

Gone was the grand production, the dancers, the elaborate staging that had framed her for the past hour. Now, it was just her, a lone figure bathed in silver, shadows stretching long behind her. No distractions. No escape.

Y/N barely had a moment to exhale, to convince herself that it was over, that she had made it through the night without falling apart.

But then, the first few notes filled the stadium.

Soft, slow, unmistakable.

Her entire body tensed, breath stalling in her chest as a sharp, invisible thread coiled tight around her ribs, pulling mercilessly. She knew this melody. She knew it in the way one knows an old scar, in the way a phantom pain lingers long after the wound has closed.

No.

Not this song.

Not the one that had been theirs before either of them had the words to admit it. Not the one that carried every memory she had tried to outrun.

Her fingers curled into fists, nails pressing hard against her palms, as if she could ground herself, as if she could stop the way the past was crashing over her like a tidal wave.

The crowd erupted in recognition, thousands of voices gasping, screaming, chanting Jennie’s name. But Y/N barely heard them. The first lyric was already slipping through the air, delicate yet devastating.

"It’s like I’m writing a letter…"

It hit like a fist to the ribs. Her nails dug into her palms.

Jennie’s voice carried through the vast arena, rich and aching, wrapping around every syllable like a confession. This wasn’t just a song. It never had been.

Y/N had spent the past week trying to avoid it, switching the radio station, leaving cafes when it played, pretending she didn’t recognize the melody. But here, now, there was no running.

Her lungs tightened, her body refusing to move, as if any small motion would shatter the fragile hold she had on herself.

Jennie stood beneath the spotlight, singing their story to an audience that would never understand what it meant. The lyrics unraveled between them, each word unearthing things Y/N had buried deep, late night conversations whispered between shared breaths, fingers laced together beneath trembling city lights, the weight of a promise that had never been kept.

"I didn’t leave ya, I still see ya..."

A flicker of something passed through Jennie’s expression.

She wasn’t just performing. She was remembering.

The weight of it hit Y/N all at once, a force so sudden and overwhelming that it felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs.

This wasn’t for the fans. It wasn’t for the press or the charts. No, this was something else entirely, something raw, something intimate, something meant for one person alone.

For her.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out the roar of the crowd, the lights, the thousands of eyes watching Jennie pour her heart into every note. A hand brushed against her arm, Wendy, a quiet attempt to steady her, but the touch barely registered. Y/N was already slipping, already spiraling, already being pulled back into a place she had sworn she would never go again.

The memories bled into her vision, sharp and vivid, slipping through the cracks she had tried so desperately to seal. Jennie laughing, head thrown back, warmth curling at the edges of her smile. Jennie whispering her name like it was something sacred. Jennie standing in the practice room, eyes wide, voice breaking on the words asking her to stay.

Her throat burned.

She clenched her jaw, willing herself to keep it together, but it was impossible when Jennie stood there, putting every ounce of herself into a song that had never stopped belonging to them.

The final chorus rose, a wave of sound crashing over the arena, but it was Jennie’s voice that cut through everything else. It wasn’t perfect, not in the way it usually was. There was something raw in it, a slight tremble hidden between the notes, a crack so faint that most wouldn’t notice. But Y/N did.

She felt it like a ripple in her chest, a pull deep in her ribs, as if the weight of Jennie’s voice alone was enough to unravel something she had fought to keep buried. It was in the way Jennie held herself, poised, effortless to anyone who wasn’t looking too closely, but Y/N saw the tension in her shoulders, the flicker of emotion in her gaze, the way her fingers curled ever so slightly around the microphone like she was holding on to something unseen.

And in that instant, every carefully constructed lie Y/N had told herself over the years began to crumble.

The distance she had put between them, the silence she had forced herself to accept, the belief that time would dull the ache, it had all been for nothing. Because no matter how far she had run, no matter how much she had tried to convince herself that she had moved on, the truth was right there, woven into every note Jennie sang.

Jennie Kim had never let her go.

The realization struck hard, pressing against her ribs, making it difficult to breathe. Y/N’s fingers tightened in her lap, nails digging into her palm, as if grounding herself could stop the way her pulse pounded against her skin. The weight of it was suffocating, terrifying, undeniable.

And worst of all, it wasn’t one sided.

Because as much as she had wanted to believe otherwise, as much as she had tried to move forward, as much as she had convinced herself that she had done the right thing, her body betrayed her. Her heart, hammering against her chest. Her hands, trembling where they rested. Her eyes, locked on the woman she had spent years trying to forget.

She had never let Jennie go either.

And now, with the music still ringing in her ears, with the memories clawing their way back to the surface, she wasn’t sure she ever would.

Y/N sits stiffly on the couch, fingers curled around the glass in her hands, the condensation damp against her skin. The ice has melted, pooling around her fingertips, but she barely notices. Her grip is tight, almost too tight, as if the glass is the only thing anchoring her in place. Around her, the room hums with energy, laughter, clinking drinks, the lingering excitement that always follows a concert of this scale. Voices rise and fall in waves, but they feel muffled, like she’s submerged underwater, like she’s observing the scene from behind glass rather than truly existing in it.

Irene and Wendy are still buzzing, animated in their conversation, their voices threaded with unfiltered joy. They’re already making plans, talking about heading backstage, about their turn to go see Jennie, about how incredible she was tonight. Y/N should join in, should laugh along, should pretend that she belongs in this space. Pretend that being here doesn’t make her feel like she’s standing at the edge of something dangerously steep.

She should go with them.

She should walk into that room, lift her chin, and pretend that time hasn’t twisted things between them. That she isn’t haunted by the past. That Jennie’s name doesn’t taste like nostalgia and regret every time it passes through her lips.

But the thought of it, of stepping into the same space as Jennie, of seeing her up close, of hearing her voice directed at someone else, warm and familiar, like Y/N was never a part of it, makes something in her stomach twist so violently she feels almost sick.

“I’ll stay here,” she says, forcing a smile that feels too tight, too rehearsed. “You guys go ahead.”

Irene hesitates. Wendy’s brows knit together. They don’t buy it.

“You sure?” Irene asks, already glancing toward the entrance leading backstage. “I mean, we can all—”

“I’m fine,” Y/N cuts in, light and easy, as if this is nothing. As if she isn’t unraveling at the edges just thinking about what waits on the other side of that door. She waves them off before they can argue, pasting on a look that she hopes is convincing. “Really. Go.”

They exchange a look, clearly unconvinced, but eventually, they relent.

Y/N watches them disappear into the crowd, their excitement carrying them forward. She waits, stomach tight, pulse steady and controlled. She keeps her posture relaxed, keeps her gaze focused on the swirl of bodies moving around the lounge, keeps herself still just long enough to be sure they won’t turn back.

Backstage is alive with the high of the concert, the air electric with celebration. The energy is infectious, staff members exchanging high-fives, dancers still breathless and exhilarated, the lingering echoes of the final song reverberating in their bones. Jennie should be basking in it, soaking in the afterglow of another unforgettable night.

“Y/N was here.” Rosé’s voice is quiet, almost careful, but it cuts through the noise like a blade.

Jennie freezes.

The world around her distorts, the sounds, the movement, everything suddenly muffled as if she’s been thrown underwater. Her pulse slams against her ribs, erratic and unsteady.

The words take a moment to register, but when they do, they land like a punch to the gut.

“What?” The word barely makes it past her lips.

Rosé looks at her, gaze searching, cautious. “She was here,” she repeats, voice gentle but firm, as if she already knows the impact this is about to have. “I saw her at the lounge. She didn’t come backstage, though. I think she left.”

Left.

Jennie swallows hard, but her throat is suddenly dry, the weight in her chest pressing down with something sharp, something almost unbearable. Y/N was here. She was here, in the same crowd, in the same space, breathing the same air. And she left.

Y/N left.

Jennie doesn’t remember making the decision to move. One second, she’s standing there, frozen, heart stuttering in her chest. Next, she’s pushing past people, slipping through the sea of bodies with single minded determination. Someone calls her name, congratulatory and bright, but she barely hears it.

There are things she’s supposed to do, press photos, a post-show debrief, a room full of people waiting to celebrate. But none of it matters.

She doesn’t care. She needs to know.

Her body moves on instinct, urgency propelling her forward, past the dressing rooms, past the equipment cases, past the dimly lit hallways that stretch toward the exit. Every step feels too slow, every second a widening gap between her and the answer she’s chasing.

She doesn’t stop to think. Doesn’t stop to consider what she’ll say, what she’ll do, if she even has the right.

She just runs.

The hallway is quiet.

Not the comforting kind of quiet, the kind that settles gently, that allows space to breathe. No, this quiet is sharp, heavy, pressing against Y/N’s skin like an unseen force, wrapping around her throat, making each breath feel just a little too shallow. The muffled hum of the arena lingers somewhere in the distance, but here, in this dimly lit corridor stretching toward the exit, there is nothing but the sound of her own footsteps.

She moves quickly, purposefully. One step, then another. Just a little further. She tells herself she won’t look back.

She almost makes it.

"And after all this time, you can’t even come say hi to me?"

The voice slices through the silence, smooth but edged, laced with something unmistakable, hurt, disbelief, something dangerously close to anger.

Y/N stops.

Her breath stutters, chest tightening as if invisible hands have reached inside, curling around her ribs. Her fingers twitch at her sides, a reflex, a tell.

Slowly, because she knows she has no choice, she turns.

Jennie stands a few feet away, still in her stage outfit, the remnants of performance clinging to her in the form of sweat-dampened hair and the subtle rise and fall of her breath. The stage lights may be gone, but they might as well still be shining on her, because she looks stunning, untouchable, every inch the Jennie Kim the world adores.

But Y/N doesn’t see the idol.

She sees the girl beneath it, the one whose eyes burn, dark and deep and brimming with something unspoken. The weight of that gaze settles over her like a storm, pressing against every carefully constructed barrier, seeping into the cracks she thought she had long since sealed shut.

The air between them is thick, charged, unstable. Years of silence, of distance, of unfinished conversations stretch out between them, coiling tight like a wire ready to snap.

Y/N swallows hard. Forces her spine to stay straight, her face unreadable. Tells herself to stay composed, to keep the past buried where it belongs.

But Jennie isn’t letting this go.

Not this time.

Y/N exhales sharply, pressing her nails into her palms as if the dull sting can ground her, keep her steady against the storm building in front of her. She forces herself to meet Jennie’s eyes, even as every instinct screams at her to look away.

"What do you want me to say?" she finally mutters, voice tight, brittle.

Jennie laughs, but there’s no warmth in it, just something hollow, something sharp enough to cut. "Maybe start with why you even came," she says, tilting her head, her expression unreadable. "If you were just going to leave again, why bother?"

"It was a mistake," Y/N blurts out, too quickly, too defensive. She hears it the moment it leaves her lips, the way it rings false, and from the flicker in Jennie’s gaze, she knows Jennie hears it too.

Jennie’s jaw tightens. "Right," she echoes, voice quieter now, but somehow heavier. "A mistake."

The word lingers between them, bitter and unforgiving.

Jennie shakes her head, her jaw tightening as something dark flickers across her face. “You always find a way to leave,” she says, her voice steady, but there’s something raw beneath it, something that cracks at the edges. “You show up just long enough to remind me you’re still out there, and then you disappear again like none of it ever mattered.”

Y/N flinches.

Because it’s not fair, but it’s not wrong either.

"It’s not like that," she says, but even she can hear the weakness in her own voice.

"Then tell me what it’s like," Jennie presses, stepping closer. The hallway feels smaller now, suffocating, as if the walls themselves are caving in. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like running away."

Silence.

Y/N’s breath shudders out of her. "I didn’t—"

"Coward."

The word is soft, almost a whisper. But it cuts deeper than any scream ever could.

Y/N’s chest tightens, a fresh wave of something painful curling in her stomach. She should leave. She should end this before it spirals into something neither of them can take back.

Jennie’s gaze shifts, just barely, something unreadable flickering in the depths of her eyes. And when she speaks again, her voice, her voice is different. Softer. Frayed at the edges, laced with something dangerously close to breaking.

"Do you know why none of my relationships ever worked out?"

Y/N doesn’t answer. She doesn’t think she can.

Jennie exhales sharply, shaking her head like she hates herself for saying it, like she already knows it’s too much, too late.

"Because none of them were you."

Y/N stops breathing.

Jennie lets out a quiet, shaky laugh, one that barely conceals the weight of the words that just shattered the last of the distance between them. "You’re my first love, Y/N. The one that still lingers in my heart. The one I never really let go of." Her voice wavers, but she doesn’t stop.

She can’t.

"Every time I tried, I just ended up leaving them. Because they weren’t you."

The confession settles between them like shattered glass, too sharp to step over, too painful to ignore.

Y/N’s throat closes, something clawing its way up her chest, something she doesn’t know how to contain.

Because this? This is what she always feared. This is what she never wanted to hear. Because there is no fixing this.

And they both know it.

Jennie isn’t done though.

She takes a step forward, and suddenly, the air shifts, crackling with something volatile, something just waiting to combust.

"You don’t even care, do you?" Jennie’s voice trembles, but not with sadness, this is something else. Something furious. "You stand there, acting like this is nothing to you. Like you didn’t just rip open a wound I’ve spent years trying to close."

Y/N swallows, but the lump in her throat refuses to go down. "I never wanted—"

"Don’t," Jennie cuts in, eyes burning. "Don’t tell me you never wanted to hurt me. You knew you would. You always knew. And you still left."

Y/N flinches, but Jennie presses on, the words tumbling out now, reckless and unrestrained. "Do you even feel anything, Y/N? Do you even care that I spent years wondering what the hell I did wrong? Why nothing was enough for you to stay?"

"Jennie"

"Do you know what it’s like to love someone who won’t even look at you?" Jennie’s voice breaks, but she doesn’t stop. She’s too far gone now. "To spend years convincing yourself they were just a dream, just a stupid, reckless mistake you were never meant to have?"

Y/N’s breath shudders out of her.

Because she does know. She knows all of it. She just never let herself say it.

"I looked at you," Y/N says, voice barely above a whisper. "More than you ever knew."

Jennie lets out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "Right. And that’s supposed to mean something now? After everything?"

Y/N exhales, shaking her head. "I didn’t know how to stay."

Jennie’s eyes darken, disbelief flashing across her face, her frustration spilling over, unchecked. “Didn’t know how?” Her voice is sharp, cutting through the space between them like a blade. “That’s bullshit. You knew how to leave. You knew how to disappear. You just never tried to stay.”

She takes a step closer, the weight of years pressing down on every word. “We could’ve found a way. We could’ve figured it out, been together without them knowing. But you never even gave us a chance.”

Y/N clenches her jaw, her own frustration rising to the surface, raw and messy. "You think it was easy for me?"

"You made it look easy," Jennie spits back, arms crossing over her chest, a poor shield for the way she’s unraveling. "You walked away like I was nothing. And now what? You show up after all these years and act like you’re some tragic ghost, like we’re just unfinished business and not a fucking disaster you caused?"

Silence.

Heavy. Unforgiving.

Y/N inhales sharply, hands shaking at her sides. She could say something cruel. She could end this right here, throw up every wall she’s spent years building. But none of that would be true.

Jennie exhales, some of the fight leaving her, but none of the fire. "Would you have stayed if I asked you to?"

The words cut through the tension, raw and unguarded.

For a second, Y/N almost lets herself lie. She almost reaches for something soft, something that could make this hurt less.

But there’s only one truth left to give.

"You did."

Jennie goes still. Her lips part slightly, like she wants to argue, like she needs to, but the answer is already there, carved into the silence between them.

She had asked and Y/N still left.

Jennie blinks, and for the first time since this confrontation started, the fight drains out of her. She looks at Y/N like she’s seeing her for the last time.

Maybe she is.

The silence between them is suffocating. Final. Jennie doesn’t stop her this time. Maybe she’s too tired. Maybe she finally understands that Y/N won’t stay.

This time, she doesn’t even ask her to.

Y/N walks away, and Jennie doesn’t watch her go. She just stands there, rooted in place, listening to the quiet click of the door shutting behind Y/N, the finality of it settling into her bones like an ache she’s long since learned to live with.

The gift bags sit untouched in the corner of Jennie’s house, an afterthought amid the soft glow of the dimmed lights and the quiet hum of the city beyond her windows.

The night stretches on, heavy and unrelenting, pressing into the spaces between her ribs, curling around the edges of her exhaustion. The adrenaline that had once surged through her veins, keeping her upright, keeping her moving, has long since faded. The roar of the crowd, the flashing stage lights, the euphoria of performing, it’s all nothing more than a distant echo now, swallowed by the vast, suffocating silence that fills the room.

And yet, despite the quiet, despite the stillness, something lingers, something she can’t shake. A weight in her chest, a dull ache that refuses to ease, a ghost of something she thought she had buried years ago.

She tells herself it’s nothing. That she’s just tired, that the concert drained her, that the remnants of the night are clinging to her skin like dust. She tells herself she won’t look inside the bags, that there’s nothing in it worth her attention, nothing worth losing sleep over. Just gifts. Just the usual things. Just meaningless tokens of appreciation, wrapped up in pretty paper and tied with silk ribbons.

And yet.

The hours drag on, the stillness stretching thin, fragile. She remains on the couch, motionless, her mind a battlefield of warring impulses. She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t want to look. But the longer she sits there, the harder it becomes to ignore the way her gaze keeps drifting to that corner, to the forgotten bags sitting patiently in the shadows, waiting.

Eventually, she exhales, a slow, quiet surrender, and reaches for it.

Her fingers brush over the smooth edges, slipping past expensive perfumes, delicate jewelry, handwritten notes from friends who adore her. Everything feels distant, impersonal, nothing more than what she expected.

But then. Something different.

Not the weight of a designer box or the crispness of a formal letter. Something softer, thinner. Her brows knit together as her hand moves instinctively, fingers finding the texture of old paper tucked between folds of tissue. She freezes.

A thin envelope, barely noticeable, buried beneath the rest.

Her breath catches in her throat.

The handwriting, she recognizes it instantly.

A sharp, involuntary inhale.

Her chest tightens, her grip faltering as a tremor runs through her fingers. It feels impossible, like some cruel trick of the universe, like a fragment of the past has broken through time and landed in her hands.

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Just stares down at the letters scrawled across the front, her pulse pounding so loudly that it drowns out everything else. And for a long moment, she doesn’t dare touch it. Because she knows. She knows what this is. Knows who it’s from.

And she knows that whatever’s inside will change everything.

A wound that had never quite closed threatens to split open all over again. She tells herself to put it down, to forget she ever saw it, to leave it buried in the past where it belongs. But her body betrays her.

Her fingers tighten around the edges.

And, against every ounce of self-preservation left in her, she unfolds the paper.

Jennie reads it once.

Then again. And again.

Her eyes trace the familiar curves of the handwriting, the ink pressed into the page by a hand she once knew better than her own. The words blur together, not because she doesn’t understand them, but because she understands them too well. They pull her under, deeper and deeper, until she’s drowning in memory, past and present colliding so violently she can no longer tell them apart.

She grips the letter tighter, as if holding it firmly enough might stop the ache rising in her chest, might keep her from unraveling completely. But it doesn’t. It only makes it worse.

Because this letter, it’s not just words on a page. It’s Y/N. It’s every unspoken conversation, every almost, every what if. It’s the version of them that never got the chance to exist, a piece of a love that never truly ended, just stretched thin over the years, frayed at the edges but never severed.

Her vision blurs, but one sentence stands out through the haze, clear and sharp as a blade. The last one.

"We will make up, make things right when we get older."

A promise. A belief that there would be more time, that eventually, one day, they would find their way back to each other. That what was broken could be fixed, that the love between them could withstand the years, the distance, the choices that pulled them apart.

Jennie’s breath shudders out of her, ragged and uneven, as if her body is struggling under the weight of the truth she’s tried so hard to avoid. Her fingers tremble, the delicate edges of the letter crinkling under her grip, but she doesn’t loosen her hold. She clutches it to her chest, pressing it against her heart like it’s the only thing keeping her together, like if she holds it tightly enough, she can stop herself from falling apart completely.

Like if she holds it tightly enough, maybe, just maybe, she won’t feel the empty space Y/N left behind. Maybe it won’t hurt so much. Maybe she’ll stop waiting for a door to open that was locked long ago.

But the truth settles in her bones, heavy and unyielding. There is no making up. No fixing things. No someday.

Only this. Only a letter written in a time when they still believed in second chances.

The night outside is still, heavy with the kind of quiet that settles deep into your bones. The city is alive somewhere in the distance, but in Jennie’s apartment, there is only silence.

Only the sound of her own breathing, uneven, too fast.

She sits on the edge of her couch, shoulders hunched forward, elbows pressing into her knees, the letter clutched so tightly in her hands that the paper is starting to curl beneath her fingers. The ink has smudged slightly from the heat of her grip, but it doesn’t matter. The words are already burned into her mind, impossible to forget.

A bitter laugh bubbles up in her throat, but it dies before it can escape.

Older was supposed to mean a future. A someday. A second chance waiting on the other side of all the things that had once stood between them. But the years had passed, the world had kept spinning, and Y/N had never come back.

Jennie had spent so long trying to forget, burying the ache beneath sold out shows, flashing cameras, voices calling her name. She had told herself it didn’t matter anymore, that some things are meant to be left behind.

But now, here it is. Unfolded in her hands. A wound torn back open, and Y/N is gone. Again.

Jennie exhales sharply, chest tightening as she stares down at the letter like it might suddenly rewrite itself, like it might change into something she can handle. But it doesn’t.

She feels sick.

Not because of what Y/N wrote. But because Y/N never said it. Never gave her a chance to fight. Never told her the truth when it mattered, when it could’ve changed things. She had just… left.

Like she always did.

Jennie squeezes her eyes shut, jaw locking, trying to breathe through the frustration clawing at her ribs. It doesn’t work. The silence is suffocating, pressing in on her, thick with all the words Y/N never said.

Then, before she can stop herself, before she can think, she grabs her phone. Her fingers move on instinct, opening her contacts, scrolling fast. She already knows what she’s looking for, who she’s looking for. But the moment she reaches the end of the list, her stomach drops.

Y/N’s name isn’t there.

Of course, it isn’t.

Jennie swallows against the lump in her throat, gripping her phone tighter. It shouldn’t surprise her, not after all these years. But somehow, it does. Somehow, the reality of it, the fact that Y/N is so far removed from her life that she doesn’t even have her number anymore, hits harder than she expects.

Her heart pounds in her ears, too loud, too much. She stares at her screen, fingers hesitating over the empty space, over nothing.

Then her jaw clenches.

Fine. There’s another way.

She flicks back to her contacts with renewed purpose, scrolling with intent. She stops at one name, barely even registers the hesitation before she presses call.

The line rings once.

Twice.

A rustling sound, then a groggy voice, hoarse with sleep, thick with confusion. “...Hello?”

Jennie doesn’t waste time. “Irene.” Her voice is sharp, controlled, but there’s a demand woven into it. A raw edge she can’t soften. “Give me Y/N’s address.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, Irene sighs, and Jennie can already hear the exhaustion in it. “Jennie, it’s late.”

“I don’t care.” She’s already standing, already grabbing her keys, yanking a hoodie over her head with jerky, impatient movements. She feels like she might combust if she stays still. “You knew, didn’t you? About the letter.”

Another pause. Irene doesn’t confirm it, but she doesn’t deny it either. That’s all Jennie needs to know.

She exhales harshly, fingers tightening around her phone. “Then you know I need to see her.”

A long silence stretches between them. Jennie waits, her pulse drumming against her ribs.

Then, finally, Irene speaks. Her voice is careful, slow. Like she’s bracing herself for what might happen next.

She gives Jennie the address, and Jennie doesn’t thank her. She doesn’t even say goodbye. She’s already moving, already shoving her feet into her shoes, already reaching for the door.

Outside, the city waits. But Jennie isn’t thinking about the streets stretching ahead of her, or the distance between them.

She’s only thinking about one thing.

This time, Y/N doesn’t get to run. This time, Jennie won’t let her.

Y/N stands by the window, arms wrapped around herself, staring out at the endless sprawl of the city. The lights shimmer below, stretching far beyond what her eyes can take in, a thousand lives moving at once, laughing, talking, living.

But inside this apartment, there is only silence.

She should feel lighter. Should feel relief. The letter is gone now, sitting in the hands it was meant for. The weight of it, the words she never had the courage to say out loud, should have lifted.

But it hasn’t.

If anything, it’s heavier now, sinking deep into her chest, pressing against her ribs like something clawing to get out. Because no matter how many times she tells herself she did the right thing, that she walked away so Jennie wouldn’t have to, so Jennie could move on, so Jennie could hate her and finally be free of this. It still feels like she’s suffocating.

Her gaze flickers toward the table, where her phone sits untouched, the screen dark. She hasn’t checked it in hours.

She could. She could pick it up, unlock it, see if there’s a message, a missed call, something.

But she doesn’t.

Maybe because she already knows the truth. That there won’t be anything there. That this is done. Or maybe, just maybe, because she’s afraid that there will be something.

That Jennie won’t let her go so easily.

She exhales sharply and turns away from the window, blinking against the burn in her eyes. Enough. She made her choice. She has to live with it.

Her feet move slowly, dragging across the wooden floor, each step heavier than the last. She is so, so tired.

But the night doesn’t stay silent for long.

The sharp, unrelenting knocks cut through the silence, sending a jolt straight down Y/N’s spine. The sound echoes through the apartment, rattling through the stillness, too loud, too sudden, too desperate.

She freezes.

The air shifts, thickens, pressing in on her from all sides. The walls feel smaller, the floor unsteady beneath her feet. Her heart lurches against her ribs, hammering so hard she can hear it in her ears, a frantic, uneven rhythm.

Another knock, louder this time, harder, shaking the door on its hinges. There is no hesitation in it, no patience left.

Her breath catches. She doesn’t need to check. Doesn’t need to move, doesn’t even need to think. She already knows who it is.

The knocking comes again, forceful, demanding, a silent refusal to be ignored.

And that’s when she hears it. A voice.

Low. Rough. Angry.

“Y/N.”

Not a question. Not a plea.

A demand.

Her breath catches, her fingers twitching at her sides. She could pretend she isn’t here. Let Jennie stand outside, let her knock until she gets tired, let this moment slip away like all the others.

But she knows Jennie. Jennie doesn’t let things go.

The space between them feels thin, like something fragile holding back the inevitable.

Y/N forces herself forward, each step slow, uncertain, the air growing heavier the closer she gets to the door. Her fingers wrap around the handle, tight, too tight. She hesitates. Just for a second.

Just long enough to wonder if she’s making another mistake.

She pulls it open, and there she is. Standing in the dim glow of the hallway, hoodie rumpled, hair messy, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Her hands are clenched at her sides. Her eyes are dark, stormy, burning. But it’s not just anger.

It’s betrayal. It’s hurt. It’s something else, something deeper, something breaking wide open right in front of Y/N’s eyes.

Jennie swallows hard, her jaw tight, the muscles in her throat working like she’s trying to hold something back. Her breath is sharp, her hands shaking where they curl into fists.

For a long, stretched moment, neither of them speak. The air crackles, charged with everything unsaid, with every word that was written in ink instead of spoken aloud.

Jennie exhales, sharp and unsteady.

“Say it to my face.”

A challenge.

And Y/N? Y/N doesn’t know if she can.

#kpop imagines #girl group imagines #gg x reader #kpop x reader #blackpink x reader #blackpink imagines #blackpink jennie #jennie x fem reader #jennie x reader #jennie kim x reader #jennie kim x fem reader #kim jennie x reader

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a-pute11as · 27 days ago

Text

ibiza holiday - leila ouahabi & misa rodríguez

word count - 8.8k | summary - laia convinces her bestfriend that a group holiday with her friends would be a good idea, yet previous encounters lead to some interesting experiences. leila x misa x reader.

MDNI 18 + - 18+ themes, basically smut but not smut, probably an incredibly unrealistic holiday set up

“nenaaaa, come on it’ll be fun!” laia whined as she tugged on your shirt for a second time. the two of you were sitting in your shared apartment, having just finished training, you were trying to relax but clearly laia had other ideas.

for the past few hours she had been trying to convince you to say yes to a girls' holiday to ibiza in the off-season, a tradition that had been going on for years between her and her friends and yet somehow you’d been invited, even when you barely knew anyone who was going.

you and laia had become inseparable incredibly quickly. the two of you had previous connections before laia made her move to arsenal, being invited to celebrate the champions league win with kiera and lucy meant you got to know a few of the barca girls over some dancing, a lot of drinks and a hangover breakfast.

“laia these are your friends, not mine, you can’t just invite me because you’ll ‘miss’ me for a few weeks” you used finger quotes around the word ‘miss’, clearly emphasising how dramatic laia had been in her previous convincing.

“no no, the girls invited you, you must’ve made a good impression on them” she said, wiggling her eyebrows as she spoke.

“wait, which girls?” you asked hesitantly, narrowing your eyes in her direction.

“espera déjame pensar” she dazed off for a minute, using her hands to count the players before speaking the list aloud, “there is alexia, jenni, leila and misa” she smiled. (wait let me think)

“jesus that’s a lot of people, i barely know any of them” you shook your head firmly, her convincing clearly not working.

“joder, if alexia putellas asks you to go on holiday you do not say no!” laia tutted, shaking her head the same way you just did.

you thought for a minute as your mind went through the list of people, “wait, you said leila?” you asked curiously, now considering the offer slightly more than before.

“si, maybe she is the one who asked for you eh” a smirk flashing across her face as she teased you.

“shut up asshole” you muttered, “i was just making sure i heard you right”.

“do not lie english woman, you are thinking about when you fucked her at my birthday party!” she accused, pointing her finger at you.

you smacked her hand down, “it was literally just a kiss codi, and you were the one who wanted to set us up!” you accused back.

“only because both of you kept talking about finding each other attractive and i didn’t want to hear any more” she defended, the two of you half-shouting at each other as you spoke.

you settled in your chair and folded your arms across your chest, “i have no regrets, anyways why is misa coming? i thought this was a barca thing?.

“hm more like a spain thing, you haven’t met misa before right?” she questioned.

“well we have a little bit, it was weird, obviously i was trying to score but she kept saying things like ‘vale princesa’ or would touch my waist and my back during corners, or there would be really intense eye contact, even at the end of the game she came and talked to me and said it again” you explained, “and lucy said she was looking me up and down but i don’t really believe her”.

you watched as laia’s smirk reappeared, “esto es clasico misa, she wants you”.

“what?” your eyes widened in shock, “that’s not true” you shook your head adamantly.

“si, i know what she’s like, no wonder she was asking questions about you the last time i saw her”

“the night of the game she followed me on instagram and then liked a picture from 6 months ago and obviously unliked it, but she always likes my pictures now, sometimes she even comments” you shrugged.

laia laughed at your oblivion, “you’re joking right?”, you shook your head, “nena you cannot be serious, she’s coming after you”.

“maybe she wants to be friends” you were trying to play the devil’s advocate, but you knew the heart eyes, the ‘guapaaaa’ or the ‘quiero’ she had commented on your instagram posts probably weren’t the friendliest.

“ah si si, friends with benefits” she winked before getting up and disappearing to her bedroom, leaving you sitting on the sofa contemplating the choice you had to make.

it wasn’t long before you heard multiple spanish voices coming from laia’s room, presumably the same ones you had just been talking about. whilst laia has been teaching you spanish throughout your time of living together, the words were far too fast for you to possibly translate.

pushing that to the back of your mind you made your way to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the two of you, you had your music on and were practically dancing around the kitchen as you cooked.

you spun round to see laia holding her phone in your direction, laughter spilling out of her mouth, immediately stopping in your tracks you nearly dropped the bowl in your hand.

“baila bebe baila” a voice from her phone shouted, your face flushing red immediately as the others cheered along.

“laia i fucking hate you” you stuck up your middle finger with your free hand before turning back to the dinner you were half way through.

“now she won’t say yes to coming with us” a familiar voice echoed from the phone.

she made her way over to you, putting her phone on the counter against the wall so you were now in the frame and unable to avoid it. you were met with the faces of alexia, jenni, misa and leila who were beaming in your direction.

“hola chica, what are you making?” jenni spoke, a grin covering her face. you had met jenni a few times, mostly on an international stage but a few times at mutual friends birthday celebrations.

“laia asked for pasta so i made it with chicken and mozzarella” you shared her smile as you continued stirring the pasta.

“ahh so you’re wifey material then” misa smirked causing you to go slightly flustered.

“deja de coquetear con ella” leila responded to misa before turning her attention to you, “how are you carino? it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other”. (stop flirting with her)

“i’m good, very excited to have some time off soon” you answered, “how are you?”

“very good too, are you going to join us on the trip?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye as she spoke.

“joder, you were meant to let alexia ask” laia interrupted, rolling her eyes.

“laia are you trying to intimidate me into saying yes?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow as you faced her.

she held her hand to her heart as she mocked pain, “nena i would never do that to you”.

“do not lie to her, she wanted me to ask you because she thinks you would be more likely to say yes” alexia explained, you reached over slapping laia on the arm as she tried and failed to move out of your reach.

“you’re an asshole, codi” rolling your eyes at her, as you began plating dinner for the two of you.

“si ella es pero, what is your answer?” alexia asked, smiling sweetly whilst her eyes felt like they were staring into your soul, the power the best player in the world had even off the pitch was crazy.

you ran your hand through your hair as you stood thinking about the offer, it was dead silent and you could feel every set of eyes on you as you tried as quickly as you could to weigh out the pros and cons, but in reality, what's the worst that could happen?

“well i guess if it’s okay with you guys i’d be down for it” you said causally, maybe a part of you was actually quite excited about it.

the spaniards erupted with cheers as laia wrapped her arms around you, picking you up and spinning you around as she cheered, “buena elección mi mejor amiga”. (good choice my best friend)

you laughed as she continued spinning you around, clearly very happy that you had given into her persuasion tactic of getting alexia to ask you. she put you down after a minute or two, picking up the phone and running back into her bedroom as you set the table for the two of you.

sitting down, you began eating as you waited for laia who seemed to be saying goodbye to her friends when your phone lit up.

instagram notification - marisabel_rguez : see you soon princesa

a small smile automatically appeared on your face as you read her message, your heart beat a little faster as you felt the butterflies dance around your stomach. spending a week with misa wearing little clothing definitely wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and by the way your thighs tensed together at that thought, you were clearly more excited than you thought.

your fingers moved quickly as you typed your response, carefully crafting a message that would come off as a little flirty but still casual.

you : could’ve been sooner if you decided to play in england

satisfied with your response, you turned off your phone and continued eating. laia made her way back out to you, sitting across from you at the table with a smirk.

“why are you making that face” scrunching your nose at the suspicious look she was wearing.

“nada nada, just this will be very fun” she shrugged, her smirk only growing, “and we are going on the plane with leila and meeting alexia, jenni and misa there”.

you tried to contain your smile as you were reminded that leila was joining you, but laia could read you like a book, “hm sounds fun”.

“oye you’re just going to flirt with all my friends whilst we are there and forget about me” she huffed, shaking her head as if she wasn’t the one who has encouraged it multiple times over the course of your friendship.

“don’t be so dramatic, it’s not all of your friends” you rolled your eyes and her dramaticness “just one or two” you mumbled under your breath.

your phone lit up again, this time a message from leila catching your eyes.

instagram notification - leilaouahabi : the highlight of this trip will be seeing you in a bikini

before you could verbally react, your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at her comment, but the thought of seeing her in a bikini too had you clenching your thighs yet again. a feeling that was starting to become far too familiar.

“you okay nena?” your bestfriend asked, curiously peeking at your phone as her eyes widened slightly at leila’s forwardness.

“mhm” you nodded as your whole body continued to heat up, “didn’t realise leila was so bold”.

she nodded slowly as she mumbled, “that’s not even the worst i’ve heard from her”

laia’s words piqued your interest, you raised your eyebrow at her words “meaning?”

“let’s say she has used some descriptive words to describe how she feels about you” you were slightly stunned into silence as you began pushing your food around your plate, not in a bad way, your mind had just become very distracted.

you picked up your phone, not leaving much time for her message to simmer before you wanted to reply, probably coming off as slightly desperate.

you : i’ll pack my best one for you, it won’t be city blue though

you were about to put the phone done but you immediately saw the three dots appear to indicate she was typing.

instagram notification - leilaouahabi : i don’t think i can manage with arsenal red, it’ll be better idea to just keep it off

slightly choking on the food you were trying to eat, you turned your phone off and flipped it so it was face down on the table.

“i’m not even going to ask” laia smiled awkwardly as the two of you continued eating, the text leila had sent you in the back of your mind.

after having 3 breakdowns about packing, 2 last minute trips to the shops for things you forgot and 1 slightly shouting match with laia over where she had put your gym clothes after emptying the washing machine, you were finally on the plane and somehow you had let laia coax you into the middle seat. the seat in between laia and leila. what could go wrong?

with laia fast asleep on one side of you and leila clutching onto your hand at every small jolt of the plane, it was better than expected. you and leila had the opportunity to actually talk to each other away from the football field, the same bold footballer that had told you she’d rather see you naked than in red wasn’t as brave in person, well not when you were 30,000 feet in the air.

all the netflix movies you had downloaded for your flight became useless as the two of you sat talking about absolutely everything.

“where’s your favourite place?” you asked in an attempt to distract leila, as she turned your hand white from the grip she had on it as the plane went through a slightly bumpy patch.

“home but in catalonia, not manchester” she clarified with a small anxious smile, her hand now loosening on yours as started brushing her thumb back and forth against your fingers.

“do you miss being there? it must be difficult to live so far away from your family” you acknowledged, looking down at the patterns she was now drawing on your hand that was relaxing both you and her.

“si, mucho” she nodded, “but for my career, it made sense to come to manchester, i needed a new challenge, so i couldn’t say no to manchester city”.

“maybe i should’ve tempted you with arsenal” you smirked, your team's rivalry had a way of appearing in every conversation, “you’d look better in red” she looked incredible in everything she wore but when she wore the red kit for spain she looked incredible.

she shook her head adamantly, “no nena, you would look much better in city blue, it would make the blue in your eyes pop” she winked.

“well you’re going to have to put up with my very very red bikini” you smiled sweetly.

her tongue flicked over her lips as she cocked her head slightly, a smirk appearing on her face “we both know how i feel about that”.

“shut up” your cheeks instantly flushed a deep red colour as leila laughed at your reaction before changing the conversation back to something that was semi-normal.

the three of you made your way to the villa you’d be staying at for the next few days, laia had offered to drive and of course leila dibs the front seat due to her ‘long legs’ yet you were left in the back to overthink exactly how this holiday was about to play out.

you were about to spend a lot of time with two incredibly attractive footballers that apparently had the hots for you in very minimal clothing, your mind was racing in every direction possible.

the two girls in the front had spanish tunes blaring, the both of them singing along to the words that you could barely understand, but you couldn’t help but smile at their pure joy. maybe this was a better picture of what your week was going to look like, rather than the intense sexual tension you were imagining.

“la guiri is here!” jenni cheered as the three of you walked through the door.

you turned to laia with a questioning look, “oh it’s just a word for like an annoying tourist, but she means it in a loving way” she explained.

immediately you were enveloped into a hug from jenni, followed by alexia as they greeted you before asking how your flight had been. you’d be lying if you said you were looking around for misa, the real madrid player not being with her friends as you arrived, but you held your questions.

it didn’t take long for the four of them to naturally switch into spanish, you definitely couldn’t blame them though, they had invited you onto their holiday so the least you could do was let them speak in the way that was most comfortable for them.

“do you know what they’re saying?” you jumped out of your seat slightly as you turned to face the voice.

it took you a second to register the sight in front of you, looking down at you was misa in what you assumed was her workout clothes which only consisted of a sports bra and shorts. her hair was slightly damp and there was a slight sheen to her tanned skin that made it look like she was glowing. her abs were on full display, and you were unashamedly looking.

she interrupted your blatant staring with a cough, forcing your eyes back up to hers. “what did you say?” you asked awkwardly, not even apologising for the way you were eye-fucking her.

“the spanish, do you understand it?” she reiterated, a cocky smirk now plastered onto her face, pleased with the reaction you’d give her.

“nope, laia has only taught me the basics, and they speak so fast so” you shrugged, briefly looking back over at the four friends before meeting misa’s eyes again.

“so do i get a hug too?” her head tilting slightly as she smiled down at you.

you nodded, matching her smile, standing up as she made her way in front of you. you held your hand out as she pulled you to your feet, your hands then wrapped around her neck whilst hers snaked around your waist and rested on your lower back.

it was only for a few seconds but you easily relaxed into her arms. her fingers drew circles on the exposed skin of your back making you melt further into her embrace. even after being in the gym, she smelt incredible, you couldn’t help but fall deeper into bliss.

you were interrupted by a whistle, the two of you breaking apart and facing the direction it had come from. jenni, alexia and laia had wide grins on their face whilst leila had a tense look across her face and her arms were crossed against her chest.

“please do not fuck infront of us” jenni smiled, earning a playful smack from alexia.

“in misa’s dreams” leila muttered, refusing to make eye contact with you but sending a deathly glare in misa’s direction.

you were hesitant to question leila’s tone, worried you had misheard what the spaniard had said and somehow created a sense of jealousy in your head, instead opting to go to your assigned room to unpack your things and settle for a bit.

it didn’t take you long to unpack, probably 20 minutes or so, and you were eager to get yourself out into the sun. opting for the bright red bikini you packed, you slipped on your coverup and made your way outside to the pool. as you walked through the house you noticed it had become eerily quiet, none of them were sitting on the sofas as they previously were, yet there was a faint buzz of spanish music coming from the pool.

slipping out of the doors, you were met with a tanned dark haired woman spread across a sunlonger, dressed in a white bikini that left little to the imagination with the addition of a black cap that presumably was keeping the sun out of her face. as you got closer you noticed the tattoos that were littered along her arms, recognising that they belong to the man city player that had joined you. part of you felt rude for interrupting her when she looked so at peace, it was as if it she was in her natural element, but

“hola” you hummed, placing your things down on the adjacent sunlounger as you began to take off your coverup.

she jumped slightly, her alarmed expression switching to a sweet smile as she looked up at you “oye carino you scared me”

you giggled at her response, “where did everyone go?” you asked, laying out your towel before planting yourself on the sunlounger.

“hm i think they went to the shops for food but i offered to stay with you instead” her smile now turning into a smirk that was somewhat cheeky but also really cheesy.

you rolled your eyes playfully at her words, “how kind of you ouahabi, i’ll remember that next time one of your tackles knocks me off my feet”.

“i’m known for sweeping girls off their feet, sometimes literally” she laughed with a small shrug.

you knew leila was bold, laia had told you a few stories about the things she’d do on nights out when she first peaked your interest, but you didn’t know just how bold she was until the dm’s she had sent you. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy this side of her, it was relaxed and cheeky and you liked it a lot.

a comfortable silence fell amongst the two of you, leila softly singing the tune of the music that was playing from speaker she had placed next to her sunlonger. in your moments of relaxation you had forgotten about applying any form of sun protection on your back, which probably wasn’t the best idea considering the sun that was beating down on you.

gaining some courage you spoke up, now propping yourself on your elbows, “leila, can you put some suncream on my back? i was going to ask laia but she obviously disappeared”

you could physically see the gulp as her mouth parted slightly, you waited for an answer, one of your eyebrows raising slightly as you questioned her reluctance. “if not it’s okay” you added, worried you had made her somewhat uncomfortable.

her eyes widened at your words as she sat up quickly, “no no” she cleared her throat, “of course i can, i was just uh.. translating what you said in my head” a nervous smile on her face as her legs moved to the side of her sunlounger signalling you to turn your back to her.

moving your hair to your shoulder, you shuffled back, handing her the suncream over your shoulder, it took a couple seconds longer than you anticipated for the cool lotion. as her hands met your back a shiver ran down your spine. her hands moved in slow, firm strokes, drawing patterns in a way that was soothing and methodical. you caught your eyes closing for a moment as you were lulled into a state of relaxation.

reluctantly her hands were removed from your back, forcing your eyes to open in the sad realisation that the moment you were sharing was over.

“thank you” you mumbled, shuffling yourself until you were laying back on the sunlounger, in your original position.

as you got comfortable, the only thing on your mind was the feeling of leila’s hands against your skin, to you it felt intimate, as if the two of you had a moment that held some kind of meaning, but her initial hesitance had you questioning if she felt the same. maybe she wasn’t as bold as you initially anticipated.

some more time passed in which comfortable silence fell back between the two of you, your eyes closed in an attempt to shield yourself from the sun allowing you to relax as much as possible. it wasn’t until you heard shuffling next to you that your eyes peaked open, your eyesight drifted to leila who was now standing at the end of her sunlounger, yet her eyes were firmly planted on you.

from the corner of your eye, you watched as her eyes travelled up and down your body, her tongue dragging across her bottom lip before catching her lip between her teeth for a second, completely unaware of your eyes on her. the way she looked at you was predatory, you felt as if you were sinking into your chair a little more every second that her eyes were locked onto you. it was as if you were hers to use as she pleased, and you were more than okay with it.

your eyes finally locked with hers. her eyes instantly widened as if she was a deer in headlights.

“i’m going to cool down in the pool” she spoke, excusing herself quickly before submerging herself in the pool within seconds.

your gaze was fixed on her as her head popped out of the water, she lifted her hands, fingers sliding through the wet strands in a slow and effortless way, the sunlight reflecting off of her dark hair which made her look as if she was straight from the gods. it had your thighs clenching together for any form of friction.

you were quickly snapped out of your daze from jenni cannonballing into the pool with a scream, causing a large splash to fly in your direction.

you let out a sharp gasp, “jesus jenni, im soaked”, water droplets dripping down your half bare body.

“surprised to hear jenni’s name in that sentence and not misa’s or leila’s” laia said, emerging from the doors of the house to the pool area.

“i hate you so much” you squinted your eyes in her direction, as you wiped the water from your arms.

“you might as well get in the pool now too” laia laughed, placing her stuff next to you.

her close proximity was all the invitation you needed. standing up quickly, you wrapped yourself around her, pressing your soaked body against her dry clothes.

“get off asshole” laia half-cried, squirming as she tried to pry your arms off, but she wasn’t quite strong enough.

“nope, this is what you get” you only tightened your grip, rocking her side to side as she continued to struggle.

when she finally stilled, you let go, stepping back with a satisfied and incredibly cocky grin.

laia narrowed her eyes, “you’re going to regret that, estúpida” she lunged for you, causing you to instinctively took a few hurried steps back, only to collide with something solid.

before you could react, strong arms wrapped around you, effortlessly lifting you off the ground.

“lo siento princesa, time for a swim!” a familiar voice teased behind you. of course it was misa.

your heart dropped as she carried you to the edge of the pool, your kicks and desperate pushes doing nothing against her ridiculous strength “misa don’t do it” you yelped.

she hummed in amusement, “hmm but you’d look so pretty wet” her voice dripped with smugness, you could practically hear the smirk on her face.

before you could protest any further, you were airborne then plunged into the cold water with a splash.

the rest of the day was spent relaxing, taking in the beautiful ibiza sun whilst trying your best to not get too burned, something the spanairds had already teased you about. you didn’t have any real plans for your first day on holiday, opting to take it slow with a few excursions scattered over your week's holiday.

dinner was relatively simple, laia decided to take charge in the kitchen to avoid any food poisoning yet it was impossible to avoid the bickering that happened between misa and laia about what was being cooked and how laia was doing it ‘wrong’. a quick google search proved that laia was in fact doing it right and misa had just seen a tiktok hack that didn’t actually work. leila attempted to reason with misa before it got to the google search but misa was set in the opinion, jenni and alexia ended up staying out of it, choosing to watch the two argue whilst laughing under their breath.

you had a relatively early night, choosing to miss out on another round of drinks and yet another argument about who had the right uno rules. spoiler alert - it was you. but you had a plan for tomorrow ; gym in the morning and a boat trip for most of the day.

waking up you felt refreshed, the sun always made you feel like a brand new person, which was the perfect mood to be in for a holiday gym session.

you got changed into a pair of your arsenal shorts and a sports bra, grabbing a towel and some water, before making your way to the gym attached to your villa.

familiar songs made their way from the gym, you were shocked someone had made their way to the gym before you, but you were on holiday with some of the biggest footballers in the world, what else did you expect.

opening the door you were met with misa, dressed in black shorts and a white sports bra, her hair had been thrown on top of her head into a messy bun, yet she looked incredible. misa was effortlessly pretty, she could’ve been dragged through a bush and she’d still come out looking out of this world.

you paused at the door as you watched her body move, she seemed to be adding weights to a bar in front of the mirror. as she picked up the large circular weights, the muscles in her arms instantly became more defined.

the sound of a weight dropping snapped you out of your thoughts which had been running wild, misa turned round, meeting your presence with a smile.

“beunas dias princesa, how did you sleep?” she asked, now standing up straight to meet your eyeline.

“good morning” you chirped, now walking into the area, placing your things down on the bench, “i slept really good, how did you sleep?”

“mine was good, i went to bed pretty soon after you did” she explained, you couldn’t tell if she was hinting that your lack of presence had sent her to bed early even when she was still surrounded by her close friends. “do you want to workout together?” she added.

you nodded in agreement, gathering your hair in your hands to scoop it back into a low bun “don’t go easy on me”

“i wasn’t planning to. but if you beg nicely, maybe i’ll let you catch your breath” yet again, her voice was laced with a pure cocky attitude, but this time you were going to rise to her level.

you raised a brow, smirking. "oh, misa, i didn’t know you liked hearing me beg. should i be concerned?"

she leaned in slightly, you were met with an intoxicating scent of perfume that had your brain malfunctioning for a second, “only if you’re not going to”.

you bit your lip, holding her gaze. "guess you’ll just have to work for it, then." you left her standing there with a stupid grin on her face as you brushed past her to begin your warm up.

“are you going to keep standing there like an idiot or come and warm up?” you questioned, looking at her from over your shoulder. her eyebrows slightly furrowed as if she was surprised with your newfound attitude towards her, but the small smile that appeared had you thinking she was a fan of it.

the two of you bounced off each other throughout the hour workout, making stupid jokes but also having normal everyday conversations that had you learning much more about her than you thought this trip would reveal. of course there was still an underlying flirty attitude to both of your words, but you genuinely enjoyed getting to know misa even with the cocky smirk she had on her face as she watched you squat.

towards the end of your work out, you were both starting to get slightly out of breath, you had been pushing each other in slight competition as you completed each of your sets. you made your way over to the bench where you had previously dropped your stuff, hoping to catch your breath.

but that plan was quickly interrupted when misa casually plopped down on a nearby bench, leaning back with her arms stretched behind her, taking slow, deliberate breaths. you couldn’t help but watch as her chest rose and fell with each breath, the movement captivating. the glistening sheen of sweat on her skin caught the light, making every shift of her muscles more defined. after a moment, she shifted, leaning forward with her arms now resting on her thighs, still drawing in deep, steady breaths. you couldn’t look away.

you couldn’t tell how long your gaze had been fixed on her, it felt physically impossible to avert your eyes in any direction when the sight in front of you felt like an art piece. yet it was probably affecting you more than you realised as a heat between your legs grew and your heart rate picked up.

that’s when her eyes found yours, her classic smirk quickly appearing on her face, “te gusta lo que ves?” she asked, a cocky head tilt matching her smirk.

you nodded without realising what you had down you had earnt an eyebrow raise from misa, your eyes widened as you quickly shock your head “i uh i’m going to shower bye” you spoke so quickly you were sure she didn’t fully understand, but you didn’t give her the chance to ask as you darted out of the room.

after showering and getting ready for the day you tried to form some kind of plan of how you were going to approach the day. both leila and misa were sending you signals, yet you weren’t sure where it was going beyond those signals. considering you were about to spend the rest of the day on a boat in the mediterranean sea with plenty of alcohol, you needed some kind of game plan.

your mental planning was interrupted as laia burst through the door, announcing her arrival with a very dramatic good morning before she dropped a bomb, “i heard what happened this morning”.

automatically your jaw dropped, “what the fuck”.

“i can’t believe you basically undressed her with your eyes, you should have fucked her” she giggled, poking her fingers into your arms causing you to swat her hand away.

“laia shut up incase they can hear you” you hissed, “i couldn’t help it, she’s been flirting with me this whole time and the way she looked in the gym was just… i have no words for it” you tired to justify your actions but honestly you were just babbling.

“clearly both misa and leila want to fuck you, so what are you going to do? fuck them both at the same time?” she spoke as if it was an outrageous idea, yet it had your brain thinking, which must’ve been obvious by your face, “oh my god you’re going to fuck them at the same time!”

“that’s not what i was thinking, you asshole” you muttered, your cheeks glowing red at the thought, “they don’t feel like that, you’re making it serious, it’s obviously just fun” you shook your head adamantly.

“mhm that’s not what i’ve heard, they sai-” laia started to explain before being cut off by the sound of jenni’s voice echoing through the halls.

“laia, is the guiri ready?” jenni shouted.

“tell her to remember her suncream and hurry up” alexia shouted shortly after her.

you grabbed your bag that you had filled with all your essentials, especially your suncream, and walked towards the door, realising laia hadn’t followed your lead you turned back to see her sat on the edge of your bed with her mouth still slightly open as if she was about to say something. “are you coming?” you asked.

she snapped out of her gaze, “yes yes im ready”, pushing her up as she followed you out the door.

it was a short walk to the boat, one that had been privately rented by alexia and somehow jenni had the right qualification to drive it which surprised you more than you’d like to admit and had you looking for the life jackets as soon as your foot stepped onto the boat.

it didn’t take long for the boat to be anchored in a beautiful cove that looked like something out of brochure. you were surrounded by beautiful cliffs, water which was so blue you could see the fishes swimming and a small beach of perfect white sand. it felt like a paradise away from the rest of the world, one that you very much enjoyed being in.

you were laid on a towel at the front of the boat, sunglasses shielding your eyes as you tried to stay focused on the book you had bought with you. the sun was beaming down on you, mixing with the bright orange bikini you had decided on wearing. it was lighting up your skin as if it glowed, a sight which had both leila and misa’s eyes drifting across your body.

“carino would you like a drink?” leila asked, causing you to look up from your book. she stood in front of you, shielding your eyes momentarily as the sun lit up around her.

“mmm yes please” you practically moaned at the thought of a cold drink helping you cool down.

your reaction had leila’s eyes wide as a grin appeared on her face, “if i knew that was how to make you moan i would’ve said it a lot sooner”.

“oh you wish it was that easy ouahabi, surprise me with your choice of drink” you smiled sweetly, causing leila to turn on her heels as she walked over to the makeshift kitchen in the shaded area of the boat.

she made her way back in a few minutes, causing you to pop yourself up on your elbows as she knelt down to you on the floor, “try” she smiled, pushing the glass into your awaiting hand.

you held the drink to your lips, the condensation on the glass slowly dripping onto your chest as you took a sip, your mouth quickly overwhelmed with a cool tropical flavour followed by the hint of an alcohol you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“leila this is delicious” you complimented, savouring the taste on your lips, “where did you learn to do this?”.

“i’m always on drinks duty when we have parties or celebrations” she shrugged smugly.

you giggle at her, the way she spoke was so casual but you could tell she was proud of the mixologist title she had been given. she got herself comfortable on the floor next to you, her legs now crossed as she sat with you. you continued sipping on your drink as she told you some of her favourite recipes, you admired the way she spoke, it had an incredibly cheesy grin across your face.

you must've sat there for a while as the conversation naturally drifted to the other plans you had for the off season as your drink had become empty and your head had a slight buzz to it. you were sure the drink didn’t contain a lot of alcohol but as an athlete you very rarely drank so when you did your tolerance was zero.

“having fun?” a voice questioned, you craned your neck upwards to see a very wet misa in front of you.

“misa!” you smiled, happy with her presence but even more thrilled by the incredibly sexy sight that was standing right in front of you, “did you go for a swim?”.

“siii, it was beautiful, but not as beautiful as you” she winked, whilst it was incredibly cheesy, you couldn’t help but be a little bit affected by it as your cheeks heated up, “the others are still on the beach”.

misa sat with the three of you, conversation flowing effortlessly, as if you’d all been friends for years. there was an ease to it, but your focus kept flickering elsewhere. you couldn’t ignore the way misa’s hand inched closer to your thigh, her confidence growing with every passing moment. your eyebrow lifted slightly at her boldness, but you didn’t move away.

leila had excused herself to refill your drink allowing misa to take full advantage of the opportunity of having you alone for a few minutes. her fingers ghosted over your outer thigh, tracing lazy swirls against your skin. the sensation was subtle but impossible to ignore, sending a warmth through you that you tried to suppress. without making it obvious, you shifted slightly, searching for some kind of friction without the embarrassment of pressing your thighs together too openly.

misa noticed. of course she did. her gaze flickered to yours, amusement dancing behind her dark eyes, an innocent smile curving her lips.

"¿qué?" she asked, lifting her free hand to run her fingers through her hair, a simple movement, yet undeniably sexy.

"nada," you muttered, a shiver running up your spine, making your back arch ever so slightly under her touch. despite the cool breeze, your body was burning.

she chuckled, her fingers pressing just a bit harder against your thigh. "princesa, i’ve barely touched you, and you’re already arching your back?" the innocence in her smile faded into something more knowing, a smirk tugging at her lips.

you shook your head quickly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of knowing exactly how easily she was unraveling you. "it was just a cold shiver… from the, uh, wind," you stammered, though you didn’t even believe your own excuse.

misa’s smirk deepened. "of course, amor. very strange, though, since you’re the only one who felt it." she shrugged, her fingers sliding a little higher, creeping toward your inner thigh. she squeezed lightly, just enough to make your breath hitch. "so this isn’t affecting you at all, then?"

you shook your head, lips pressed together in a weak attempt to maintain composure. speaking would only make it worse.

she studied you for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but before she could push you any further, leila dropped back into her seat beside you.

"here’s your drink!" she grinned, handing it to you.

you took it without hesitation, gulping it down like it was your only lifeline, hoping somehow that the cold liquid would cool the heat surging through you.

the two spaniards simply laughed at your quick action, “debiste haberla visto, esto va a ser muy fácil” misa spoke proudly, but the spanish was far too advanced and fast for you to understand anything. (you should have seen her, this is going to be so easy)

“mi turno ahora” leila matched misa’s energy, whilst your spanish wasn’t up to their level, you could definitely tell what she meant. (my turn now)

your eyes flickered between the two of them, unsure of what to say or do, completely at their mercy, not that you minded. lying between them, you felt like a toy for them to play with, and the thought alone sent a thrill through you.

leila reached out, her fingers curling around a strand of your hair, twirling it idly before tucking it behind your ear. the simple touch sent warmth down your spine, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned into her hand, craving more. but just as quickly as she granted it, she took it away, her fingers drifting lower.

she traced a slow path from your shoulder, her touch featherlight as it skimmed down your neck, across your collarbone, and to the center of your chest. her hand lingered there for a moment, just long enough to make your breath hitch, before continuing downwards. the soft brush of her fingertips dipped between your breasts, teasingly tugging at the fabric of your bikini top as they passed.

what started as delicate touches turned into something more as her entire palm flattened against your stomach, stopping just before your waistband. every movement set your skin ablaze, the anticipation burning through you as her touch took over your skin. you hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath, too caught up in the way her touch mapped out your body.

something had flipped in leila, her newfound confidence a stark difference from the same person that was stuttering over putting suncream on your back.

she removed her hand, snapping you out of the bliss that she had effortlessly put you in, her lip tugging at her bottom lip as she looked at you, “you were right misa, she’s so easy”.

you swallowed hard as they talked about you as if you weren’t there, your legs now firmly clenching together as all efforts to withhold the obvious physical effect they had on you had disappeared.

“easy?” you questioned leila’s words, “i’m not easy” you huffed, somewhat frustrated at the way they perceived you as if you hadn’t turned to putty in their hands in front of their.

“cari, you’re practically begging for us to touch you, but of course you aren’t easy” leila mocked, pouting at you as she looked down on you.

you scoffed, shifting slightly as if that would somehow ease the tension thrumming through your body. "i don’t beg" you repeated, though the breathiness in your voice betrayed you. "i just know what i want."

leila’s smirk didn’t waver as she dragged a slow finger down your arm. "oh, cariño," she murmured, tilting her head.

"and what is it you want, hmm?" misa spoke, having your head snapping in her direction.

your lips parted, but no words came out at first, your breath unsteady under their piercing gazes. you shifted slightly, heart pounding as your fingers curled into your lap.

"i… i don’t know," you admitted softly, voice barely above a whisper. your body, however, told a different story, silently pleading for them to decide for you.

you watched as they shared a look, “i think we can figure that out” misa hummed in response.

“we definitely can” leila confirmed with a soft nod, “after we get back to the villa” she added, shattering the hope that had been building in finally getting what you wanted after all the relentless build up you’d been experiencing.

“why after?” your eyes gave her a pleading look, trying to convince her with just a look was probably hopeless, but it was worth a short.

“you want us to fuck you on a boat for our friends to see? very brave of you princesa” misa purred, her hand reaching out and tugging on the string of your bikini bottoms ever so slightly.

your eyes widened as you shook your head slightly, whilst the idea of them touching you here and now was incredible, you knew you wouldn’t be able to stand the endless teasing from your best friend if she saw how you were about to hand yourself over to them on a plate.

“that’s what we thought” leila smiled, giving the signal to misa to pull on the string, causing it to fall next to you before you gasped and scrambled to retie it, worried that your friends would reappear on the boat any second.

the two of them stood up, almost as if it was planned, “we are going to eat, are you joining us?” leila asked, nudging her head to the selection of fresh fruit and other snacks that had been catered as per alexia’s request.

you shook your head politely as you stood to your feet, “i think i need to go for a swim and cool off”.

making your way to the back of the boat, you dived in without hesitation, the water being a desperate relief from the heat still coursing through your body. you wasted no time swimming towards the shore, where jenni and laia had decided that burying alexia in the sand was their newest form of entertainment.

most of the time on the beach was spent in your determined attempt to build a sandcastle without a bucket. every time you took your hands away, laia took it as an open invitation to knock it down, grinning as she ruined your progress. after the third time, you grabbed her ankle, sending her tumbling into the sand with a surprised yelp. the three of you sat giggly as the now incredibly sandy laia sent daggers in your direction.

eventually, the four of you made your way back to the boat, deciding it was time to return to the villa and unwind before getting ready for dinner. the day had been long, the sun still warm against your skin, but the lingering saltwater clinging to your body left you desperate for a shower.

the moment you stepped inside, you beelined for the bathroom, grateful that your room had an ensuite, no waiting, no interruptions, just the promise of fresh, clean skin. time seemed to slip away as you stood under the spray, letting the heat soothe your muscles and refresh you entirely. by the time you stepped out, your body felt lighter, your damp hair falling in waves down your back as you pulled on a pair of soft shorts and a sports bra to lounge in.

swinging the bathroom door open, you were stopped in your tracks.

leila and misa were sitting at the edge of your bed, their gazes locked onto you with knowing smirks. your stomach flipped as the memory of what had happened on the boat, the promise from the boat rushing back to your mind.

"you didn’t forget, did you, princesa?" misa’s voice was smooth yet firm, her arms crossed over her chest as she eyed you. the authority in her tone sent goosebumps racing up your arms, a shiver rolling through you as you processed what was happening.

you swallowed, quickly shaking your head. "no, of course not”, you lied. between playing on the beach and the trance-like calm of your shower, the promise they had made had momentarily slipped your mind. however the dull ache between your legs made it clear, it hadn’t forgotten for a second.

leila’s lips curled into a smirk, tilting her head slightly. "of course, amor," she murmured, her voice softer than misa’s but no less commanding. "come here."

the contrast of your predictions between them had your head spinning. leila, the one who would hold you, whisper soft praises against your skin, while misa was rougher, teasing, pushing you past your limits. at least, that’s what you assumed. boy you were wrong.

hesitantly, you stepped forward, drawn into leila’s presence like she had an invisible pull on you. her hands reached for you instantly, fingers splaying across your waist as she guided you between her legs with ease. the warmth of her touch seeped into your skin, grounding you in the moment.

you were so focused on her that you almost didn’t notice misa standing until she was right behind you. her hands ghosted over your back, fingers tracing absent patterns over the ink etched into your skin. the teasing touch had you holding your breath, until they finally settled on your shoulders, pressing firmly as she began to knead the tension from your muscles.

the sensation had you instinctively tilting your head back, leaving your neck vulnerable, something that misa quickly noticed. her lips brushed against your skin, pressing slow, deliberate kisses that sent a shudder through your entire body. a quiet whimper threatened to escape your lips.

and then there was leila, her hands still moving, still exploring, mapping your body with a featherlight touch that somehow burned hotter than anything. every caress, every whisper of contact sent jolts of electricity through your veins. you were completely at their mercy. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

your door swung open as laia came rushing it but was instantly stopped in her tracks before she could ask if you wanted to play mario kart on the switch she had bought. she stood rapidly blinking at the sight in front of her, clearly unsure of what to do before turning around and making a clear run for the door.

“i told you so” she shouted before slamming the door behind her.

your cheeks flushed red at the slight embarrassment you now felt after your best friend had seen you in this position, but the sets of hands that had taken hold of your body quickly refocused you on the situation that was developing with you at the centre.

“you ready for some fun, carino?” leila mummered, her gaze locking onto you with a teasing smile

the look in her eyes had you nodding instantly, your breath hitching in anticipation.

“oh you have no idea” misa whispered against your ear, voice dripping with a mix of mischief and smugness.

a/n - only half proof read, soz x

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso oneshot #leila ouahabi #leila ouahabi x reader #misa rodriguez #misa rodriguez x reader #espwnt #alexia putellas fic #jenni hermoso fic

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yamumsyadadd · 4 months ago

Text

ten years

Your first love is the love you’ll never forget. The type where you’d sit down and tell your kids. the type to look back and picture all the memories of you two.

You and alexia grew up together in Mollet del Vallès. The Putellas family lived next door so naturally, you, Alba and Alexia all became inseparable. It wasn’t until just before your sixteenth birthday that things had shifted between the pair of you.

You were close, but the lingering stares, the touches, the deep connection you shared changed. It was the month before your birthday that alexia sat on your bedroom floor crying. Refusing to tell you what was wrong, or to say anything really. Her words were a mixture of sobs and unintelligible mumbles.

After a while the tears stopped, but then she stood up and started pacing the room, “I’m gay. I’m gay and I am in love with my best friend. How stupid is that!”

“Alexia, you can be gay. I don’t care. You’re still alexia. You’re still my best-“ it dawned on you. She was in love with her best friend, you were her best friend. She was in love with you. Alexia Putellas, the dorky, adorable, sweet girl that you were in love with was in love with you too. “Oh.”

“Oh! OH! Is that all you have to say? oH” her hands are flapping around like a bird trying to learn how to fly, if it was any other moment you’d laugh.

“Do you have another best friend?”

“What?”

“I said-“

“No I heard you. That’s your first question? I come out to you, confess my love to you, and you ask if I have another best friend?”

“Relax. I was just making sure otherwise it would be real awkward.” She’s confused for a moment, watching you get up and walk towards her. You cup her face and kiss her. It’s messy, hard, there’s teeth and some unintentional tongue. “I’m in love with you too.” You say after pulling away.

The next four years go by in a blur. Alexia’s career kicks off, forcing her to move to Levante but you make it work. Weekends are spent judging her games, your university degree and adult life in general but slowly, it becomes to much.

maybe your first love is the one that sticks with you because it’s the only person who will have you completely, receive all of you, after that you learn better, but, most of all, no matter what a piece of you forever remains left behind in the heart of the one you loved. A piece no future lover could ever get, no matter what. That piece holds in once, the belief that love really can last forever, it holds friendship and pain, trial and error, that one kiss you’ll never forget, and the night under the stars you can never get back. It holds youth, and everything you thought love would be, everything that was proven wrong.

Alexia was spending more time with her teammates, you were studying hard. There wasn’t much left in common between you two and slowly that caused fights. She wanted to stay in, rewatch a game, you wanted to go out, get drunk and dance in a dive bar with your friends and Alexia.

At first, that’s what the fights were about then it became fighting over everything. You left your shoes at the door: fight. Alexia dumped her kit bag in the hallway: fight. The dishwasher wasn’t turned on: fight.

After yet another, exhausting, stupid fight, you called it quits.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do want? Us?”

“Yes Alexia. All we do is fight. We are on different paths, doing different things in life. You don’t want what I want, I don’t want what you want. And that’s okay, you’ll find someone who will be more suited and I’ll find someone too.”

“No. No amor, we can work it out. Couples fight all the time. What about counselling?”

You can’t help the laugh that comes out, “we are twenty Ale. We don’t need counselling, we need to find who we are. Maybe we will come back to each other, maybe we won’t.”

“I don’t know how to love anyone else.”

There are many tears that night, as she watches you pack your stuff and say goodbye. Alba tells you how hard she’s taking the break up, how she returned her mother’s ring that her father proposed with. It’s hard and depressing so you do the one thing you thought was best, you leave.

A year after the breakup you move to England, freshly graduated from your International Affairs degree. It was easy to get a job, the Spanish Embassy in London needed Immigration Support workers so that’s what you.

For the next four years you worked hard, it was exhausting, mentally but you got through. Earning enough to buy a two bedroom flat in London, making new friends, most importantly, finding who you were without relying on someone else.

Most of the visits back home were brief, purposely so. You wanted to avoid Alexia. She was starting to become a high profile person, doing incredibly well within her sport. You were proud, of course, but you didn’t want anything to compromise that for her. So instead, you stayed away, hide your feelings that never left and carried on with your life.

Then you met Abigail. She loved you in ways that were different from Alexia. Things naturally progressed within the relationship, meeting the parents, moving in together, getting engaged, starting a family.

During Covid lockdown you had your baby girl. Ínes was the light of your life. Everything seemed to fall into place. Until it came crashing down.

Ínes’ second birthday party goes off accordingly. Your family fly from Spain to London, Abigail’s family are there too, friends you’ve made over the last eight years and ínes’ friends from daycare are there. It’s meant to be a joyful occasion, a little girl who is surrounded by family and friends but Abigail couldn’t keep it in her pants.

It’s your brother who finds them, he tells your friends, who finally, hours after, tell you. The woman you had your life with, that you were set to marry in six short months, was fucking her coworker in the bedroom you shared together.

For your daughter and those around, you put on a brave face. Instructions your brother and friends not to say anything but asking them to slyly pack a bag for you and Ínes. The plan at this point was to get out, stay at a hotel for the night and then figure it out from there.

It was embarrassing really. Abigail didn’t fight for you, your relationship or your daughter. She flaked on the days she was supposed to have Ínes, missed daycare pick ups and dance recitals. The only excuse you could come up with was simply that mummy was busy. But after a while, Ínes stopped asking, stopped begging for her other mother’s love and it was just the two of you.

The move back to Spain, to Mollet, wasn’t one you needed a lot of time to think over. Ínes wa young enough to make friends again, her Spanish and Catalan was perfect, her other mother had completely ghosted the both of you six months ago, so you were free to go. And you did.

For the first few months it as hard. You had to move back in with your parents, Ínes loved it and you were grateful for the free childcare but you were itching for your own house. A place with a backyard, close to her grandparents, to her school and ballet, and most importantly (if you asked Ínes) to her little kickers soccer.

Unfortunately for you, she’d fallen in love with the game. The game that caused your first heartbreak, the one you never really got over. And of course, like many other little girls, Alexia Putellas was her hero.

It wasn’t your Alexia anymore, fundamentally she was still the same. Thrilling in her game, content with her life, but now she was a household name, arguably the best female footballer ever. Your parents had taken her to a few games, your brother buying her the jersey she picked out and that proudly held the name and number of ALEXIA 11.

Sometimes you’d lay in bed, holding a sleeping Ínes, who was sporting her Barcelona Femeni jersey, thinking about how you wanted this to be your reality with Alexia. Secretly scrolling through her instagram, or the many photos from your youth. When Ínes was older, you’d explain why you wouldn’t go to the games, but for now she was too young.

The first of December marked the start of the Christmas season. Mollet held their annual Christmas tree lighting, Ínes was so incredibly excited for it. That’s when you saw her for the first time, it was from afar but it was her. Alexia was with Alba and a few of their friends. She looked happy, free, older but still as beautiful as ever.

It sparked something inside of you. Maybe it was anxiety or maybe it was jealousy. Your Mami had kept you updated on both Alexia and Alba, still seeing them semi regularly for the Sunday dinners. She never told you Alexia asked about you, or that she never told her about Ínes.

It was the night before Ínes’ fourth birthday that you saw her. Up close and in person.

ALEXIA:

10 years have passed and I still haven’t seen you since we broke each others hearts that one summer night.

I’m walking down the busy city street when I first see you. You had a gift bag in your hand with pink tissue paper. I come to a halt on the sidewalk, unable to move, people were cursing under their breaths, because of my sudden stop.

You keep walking towards me, still not noticing, until you did. For a second you seem not to recognise me, but I see it hit you the same way it did me.

You plaster a smile, one that doesn’t reach your eyes, and come up to me and say hello. We exchange the normalcies and ask how to past ten years have been.

All I want to do is ask about the gift bag with the pink tissue paper. So I do.

“Who’s the gift for? Someone special?” I laugh even though I’m holding my breath waiting for the dreaded answer.

“Yeah someone very special.” You smile, a real smile, “my daughter. She turns four tomorrow.”

The words catch in my throat. I don’t know what to say. But I smile and tell you to wish her a happy birthday for me. I tell you I’ve got to get going, but I have all the time in the world really. You say goodbye, and for a second it seems that you have more to say.

As I continue down the street, away from you, all I can think about is your daughter. She probably has your eyes, your wild morning hair, your soft and loving heart. I wonder if she knows about me, about us.

I think about how I used to imagine it being our daughter you were buying gifts for.

———————————————————————————

I was shopping for Ínes’ daughter’s birthday present when I first see you. Standing there, frozen on the sidewalk, looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost.

It’s been 10 years but your face looks exactly that same way I remembered it. I could never forget. The freckles, the creases around your eyes and mouth from smiling and laughing. Those big, beautiful hazel eyes.

I smile and walk up to you. We talk like we haven’t spent the last 10 years missing each other, at least, that’s how I spent it.

You ask me “who’s the gift for? Someone special?” You laugh though, I can tell it’s not a genuine laugh, you’re scared for the answer.

“Yeah someone very special.” I respond, “my daughter. She turned 4 today.”

I can tell it catches you off guard, some emotion flashing across her face, one I can’t recognise. It takes a second for you to respond but then you do and say “wish her a happy birthday for me.”

I smile and you say you’ve got to get going. I try and hide the disappointment and I almost tell you something that’s probably too heavy for the distance that ten years has put between us.

So instead I just say goodbye. And I don’t tell you how much I still love you, or that I might have a daughter but I’m not married. And I certainly don’t tell you that my daughter’s name is a name we picked out together.

Instead, I watch you walk away down the street and I know I’ll be spending the rest of my life trying to find my way back to you.

ALEXIA———————————————————————-

It’s been two weeks since I saw you in the street, I still love you but you have a daughter and probably a wife, or at least a girlfriend.

Seeing you hurt more than I thought it would. I knew it would happen eventually, you grew up here, you loved it here. But nothing prepared me for it.

I was about to pour myself a large glass of wine, needing it after the conversation that was had with alba. But then my doorbell rings.

I answer, expecting a package but when I open it, my breath catches in my throat. You’re standing there, holding another gift bag with pink tissue paper.

“Um. Hi?” You say, looking more nervous than I am.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, yeah everything is fine. Can I come in?” You ask.

“Of course.” I don’t move. Watching you. “Yeah, sorry.” I curse myself for standing there like an idiot.

You hand me the mystery bag with pink tissue paper, “I wanted to give you this.”

My heart is beating out of my chest, I have no idea what is going on. Carefully, I take out the tissue paper, feeling your eyes on me. When my eyes land on it, they start to sting straight away. It’s the scrap book I made you for your birthday, twelve years ago.

“You still have this? How?” I ask.

“I could never bring myself to get rid of it.” You smile.

“But wouldn’t your wife be upset?” I ask

“My wife?” You were confused, I’m confused. “Oh no. My daughter’s mum and I never worked out.” You responded.

I had assumed that your heart was taken by another as soon as you told me you had a daughter. I never gave myself the chance to imagine otherwise. That would bring longing that would turn to hurt.

You continue, my heart beating through my chest, “that’s why I’m here.” The pause before you spoke again seemed to last for years. “Listen, I still love you. And even if you don’t feel the same, I had to tell you. I couldn’t go on without telling you or knowing if you felt the same.”

Every memory of us from the last twenty years came rushing back to my mind, at that very moment. There are so many things I want to say, but I can’t find the words.

“Everyday that I spent apart from you was like watching a piece of myself live without me, of course I still love you.”

The smile that appears on her face is the same smile that made me fall in love with her all those years ago. “I’m going to spend the rest of our lives making up for the past 10 years I didn’t get to love you.” She says.

I fall into her arms, overcome with the feeling of everything starting to come back together. “Oh I forgot to ask, what’s your daughter’s name?”

She just laughs lightly and smiles, pulling me back in.

It takes a while before you introduce Ínes to Alexia. At first it’s just as friends. As happy as Ínes is, she’s also annoyed that you kept that secret for ages.

Slowly but surely, your lives become intertwined again. It may have taken ten years but you found your way back to each other.

#fcb femení #alexia x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas fanfic

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pitchsidestories · 5 months ago

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el sueño de una niña (2) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

part 1 | masterlist | word count: 1803

summary: Jenni promised reader's daughter Mila to come to her first football match, can she keep her promise despite being away with the Spanish national team.

author's note: dear readers, you asked for a part 2 and here it's, please enjoy. Let us know your thoughts on the oneshot.💜🖤

“But you promised to come…”, Mila whined through the phone, her voice on the verge of cracking. The disappointment in the little girls voice weighed heavy on Jennis heart.

She winced as she replied: “I know, I know.”

“It’s my first important game…”, Mila complained.

Jenni sighed. She was the one who had helped Mila find a football team in her age class, the one who had bought her first pair of cleats and also the one who had promised her support for her first game. Only, she had forgotten that she would be away with the national team at the time of Milas first game.

“I'll find a way to be there, Mila.”, Jenni promised determinedly. She didn’t know how yet but there was no way she would disappoint her.

Mila seemed a bit more calm at the end of their call but at the same time the conversation had attracted the interest of Jennis spanish team mates.

“Mila has a game?”, Alexia asked, her eyebrows moved towards her hairline with curiosity.

Jenni threw her phone on her hotelbed with frustration: “Yes, it’s her first one. She asked me to come weeks ago.”

Irene who leaned in the doorframe smiled to herself: “Do you all remember your first games?”

“Who doesn’t?”, Alexia replied with a grin.

“We all do.”, Jenni agreed. She knew from experience how formative first games could be.

Aitana stood there, frowning at Jenni like her brain was working at full speed: “But how do you get to her game when you’re here with us right now?”

The hotelroom went quiet as everyone seemed to search for a solution to help Jenni out.

“Easy, fake an injury.”, Mariona blurted out.

Four pairs of eyes stared at her. The disbelief about her suggestion was palpable inside the room.

Jennis face suddenly lit up as she got up from her bed: “During training later? Mario, you’re a genius!”

Excitedly, the darkhaired player pressed a grateful kiss to Marionas cheek and picked her up to whirl her around.

“Jenni!”, she protested, her cheeks slightly reddened.

“Sorry!”, Jenni laughed and finally let Mariona back down.

“Don’t tell anyone that I had anything to do with it.”, Mariona pleaded.

Jenni winked at her nonchalantly: “Oh, don’t worry, Darling. I’d not tell a soul.”

“Good.”

A few hours later, Jenni went down just as planned during a training drill. She held her knee and screamed in pain. The other players crowded around her, faking worried looks. Alexias eyebrows knotted together, indicating that Jenni was definitely overdoing it.

“Jennifer? Are you alright?”, their coach asked, crouching down to Jenni.

“No.”, the football player moaned.

“The physio should take a look at it.”, Alexia interrupted, trying to steer the conversation into the right direction.

Jenni nodded quickly: “Yes, just to be sure. That really didn’t feel good.”

“Okay.”, Montse agreed as she watched her get up and limp off towards the physios.

A short time later, the physiotherapist Pilar realised with a sour face. “You’re fine, Jennifer.”

“Listen I know I’m fine but there’s a game tonight I’ve to attend. It’s a little girl’s first football match.”, Jenni pleaded.

She shook her head in disbelief. “You want me to lie and say it’s bad enough that you’ve to leave?”

“Not to leave necessarily only to take a break until tomorrow. Please.”, Jenni looked at her with big eyes.

“Excuse me, you want me to compromise my integrity.”, Pilar protested.

“It’s for a good cause.”, the striker gave her the most charming smile in the hope it would work on the physio like it did on all the women before. Nowadays, the specific grin was usually reserved for Mila and you. But this was an emergency.

“You owe me, Hermoso.”, she warned her.

“I know, you can count on me.”, Jenni reassured the physio.

“Go.”, Pilar replied in an impatient tone.

“Thank you!”, the football player promptly jumped off the lounger throwing kisses at her.

“Ugh.”, the physio waved it off, pretending to be disgusted by it.

In awe you watched your daughter warm up with the teammates who became her friends. Mila and you were heartbroken that your friend hadn't come yet despite her promise, which she was supposedly so keen to keep.

The referee started the game that’s why you didn’t hear the person coming who put her arms around your waist with a cheeky smile on her lips. A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you turned around to see who dared to touch you like that.

“Jenni?!”, you exclaimed surprised, glancing at the face you came to love so much over the past year.

“Hey.”, the Spanish woman greeted you grinning.

“You really made it to the game.”, you whispered deeply impressed by her dedication.

“I told you I’d. I never break a promise.”, Jenni answered in a serious tone.

“True, it’s been twelve months, and you never ran away.”, you noted.

“Can’t believe you still think I would.”, she remarked hurt.

“No, I trust you.”, you disagreed whole-heartedly, cupping her cheeks with your hands before exchanging a gentle kiss with the striker. For one moment the pitch and the game faded into the background.

“I think I deserve that trust by now.”, Jenni stated earnestly, pressing a kiss to your hand before releasing you fully.

“You do.”, you responded. Both of you followed the game proudly. The Spanish national team player was the one who cheered and supported the girls the loudest.

A bright smile lit up Mila’s face during a short break once she realized that Jenni did came to the game to see her play. Shily your daughter waved at her which the striker returned with her hands formed to a heart. When the game was on again Mila even scored her first goal.

“There she comes! Hi Mila.”, Jenni kneed down to hug the small girl after the match officially ended.

Milas face split into a big grin once she spotted Jenni standing next to you. She immediately broke into a run and jumped into Jennis arms. “Jenni, you made it!“

“Of course I did. I promised you.“, Jenni laughed as she spun the little girl around before setting her back down on the grass.

Mila cocked her head: “Have you seen me play? You looked distracted by looking at Mami.“

You failed at stifling your laughter while your girlfriend replied: “Hey! Of course I watched you play.“

“Uhu, sure.“, Mila nodded, her little face filled with sass.

Jenni raised her eyebrow at her with a grin: “Excuse me? I came all the way from my national team camp to watch you play.“

The tiny football players’ eyes widened in awe: “How did you do that?“

“Magic.“, Jenni explained, waving her hands through the air as if she was casting some spells.

“Wow.“

“All for you.“, she winked at your daughter.

“Thank you, Jenni.“, Mila beamed and pressed yourself against the football player for another hug.

Jenni kneeled down to her: “You did so well today. Were you nervous?“

Mila nodded hesitantly: “Yes but Mami said she believes in me.“

“We both believed in you. Don’t worry, the nervousness gets better after a few games.“

“It does? Also, told coach that you’re a good coach too.“, Mila said and pointed in the direction of woman your age who watched you with raised eyebrows.

You shot her a smile while Jenni laughed: “Oh god.“

“She didn’t like to hear that.“, Mila confirmed what you both could read from the face of her coach already.

Jenni bit her lip to stop herself from laughing: “I bet so.“

“Mila, are you hungry?“, you quickly changed the topic, impatient to leave the football pitch and the watchful eyes of the youth coach.

“Yes!“

You turned to your girlfriend: “What about you, Jenni?“

“I think I have time to take my girls out for food.“, she winked.

“Perfect.“, you smiled.

Jenni held out her hand for Mila. You took the other hand of your daughter. “Let’s go.“

“Please, I’m starving.“, Mila complained which caused all three of you to break into laughter again.

Jenni ruffled through the young girls hair: “Don’t worry, you will get some food to fuel your body after such a long game.“

You found yourself at a restaurant shortly after. Mila was busy digging into her chicken tenders and you watched Jenni pick at her salad.

But there was something that your girlfriend had said earlier that you couldn’t get out of your head. You leaned forward, your chin resting on your hand and watched Jenni curiously: “So… how did you get out of the Spain camp?“

Chewing on a tomato, Jenni shook her head: “Can’t tell you that.“

“It’s top secret, huh?”, you smirked.

“Yes, it’s between me, the girls and our physio.”, she winked conspiratorially.

The small comment of the striker sparked Mila’s curiosity as well. “Was it dangerous?”

“A little bit.”, Jenni admitted sounding amused.

“Woah, that’s so cool.”, your daughter marvelled.

“Mila!”, you clicked your tongue disapprovingly.

“But mami you must admit it’s true.”, Mila defended herself.

Swiftly you changed the topic, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes. “When do you have to go back?”

“Tonight, but I can take Mila to bed before that.”, Jenni answered smiling.

“Really?”, your child asked beaming with delight.

“Really.”, the footballer confirmed mirroring her excitement.

“Good.”, Mila nodded satisfied.

The dinner with three had gone by in a blink.

In an animated tone Jenni read out loud to your daughter in the child’s bedroom. It was a story for boys and girls featuring the life story of Marta. In between you could hear Mila’s lively comments she exchanged with your girlfriend until there was only the silence of the night.

“She’s sleeping?”, you questioned as Jenni closed the door behind her.

“Yes.”, she affirmed calmly.

“Wonderful.”, you muttered gleefully. Eye to eye, you noticed a desire and lust in the way the striker looked at you. A blush crept upon your cheeks feeling the intensity of her stare. “What? Why are looking at me like that Jennifer?”

“No reason?”, she murmured innocently.

“No, tell me.”, you demanded in the knowledge that your lover was lying.

“Well, I’ve some more time before I’ve to leave.”, she began mischievously.

“You mean long enough to..?”

“Yes.”

“We shouldn’t waste more time don’t you agree?”, you glanced at her expectantly.

With a playful expression Jenni took your hand to guide you to your shared bedroom, leaving no doubt that she was fully in line with what just passed your lips.

Everything started with a promise and ended with another one.

After you two made love together Jenni promised that you three would be a forever thing. Something like the three musketeers against a man’s world which despite all it’s harshness would never get you down.

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

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ourdadai · 5 months ago

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୨୧ jennie ( blackpink ) lockscreens.

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girlgenius1111 · 9 months ago

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no time

jenni hermoso x reader. jenni is feeling neglected by how much time r is spending away from her, focused on football and getting her degree. jenni decides r is avoiding her, and pulls away too. eventually, it all becomes too much for r, who is feeling the pressure from everyone and everything. i would say teeny amount of angst and majority amount of fluff. for all the underfed jenni girls 😌😌

-----

Jenni knew you were busy. She knew you had a million things going on, and that the lack of time you’d been spending her was probably completely unintentional. A more insecure part of her worried that it was intentional, but she tried to quiet that part down. The Spaniard came across as a very outgoing, confident individual, and for the most part, she was. In her relationships, though, she had an issue with asking for what she needed, just like you did. She craved your attention and your company, but something inside of her just… wouldn’t let her ask for it.

And it wasn’t like Jenni wasn’t trying to spend time with you. She’d come into the office while you were studying, trying to convince you to take a break. In the past few weeks, the answer had been no. You were drowning in school work, with practices picking up in frequency and intensity for the team. When you did have time to focus on school, you were always rather exhausted. Adding another 2 classes to your course load this term had been a mistake if you’d ever made one. Instead of the two you normally took, sometimes three, you were taking four. Four more classes, and you’d be done with your degree, fulfilling your promise to your parents to have a backup plan in case football didn’t work out. Maybe you didn’t deserve a degree. It was pretty idiotic to come to the conclusion that four classes wasn’t that much more than two.

Jenni had never cared for school, getting it done as soon as she could. She loved you, a lot, but she couldn’t really comprehend the deeply ingrained need you had to get your degree, and get perfect marks. She was supportive nonetheless, but she didn’t really quite understand what another two classes would entail. For the first part of the term, it had been manageable. Now, things had piled up, and you were absolutely drowning.

You were a perfectionist, and you’d do anything to make sure your university work was perfect, your football was perfect, at the expense of everything. Even your own wellbeing. And, apparently, Jenni’s wellbeing too, although you weren’t quite aware of the toll your lack of time spent with her was causing.

It was really a lack of communication that caused things to bubble over.

Jenni felt neglected. And you wanted nothing more than for her to pull you away from your late night study sessions and remind you to put yourself first, because you were sure you couldn’t do it yourself. If either of you had just spoken to the other, it would have been resolved so easily. Jenni would have realized that you needed her, but were too stressed to really know what you needed. And you would have realized that giving Jenni space wasn’t some kind of gift for her, and that she would be happy to sit next to you while you studied and just keep you company. Communication was an area that your relationship tended to struggle, though. It was a work in progress, and this situation clearly presented where there was still progress to be made.

-----

As you typed away at your computer, you again wondered why on earth you had added classes. Another term would have been worth it, if only to avoid this hell. It was Tuesday, and you had 3 essays due on Sunday. The week was stuffed full of training and extra workouts, though, and then the team was traveling for an away game. Everything had to be done by Friday, or it wouldn’t get done, and that wasn’t an option.

Not only did it have to be done, it had to be perfect. There was no possibility of halfassing any assignment. You’d tried before, but you always ended up redoing it until it was perfect, and it was just much easier to do it the first time around.

You had just finished the first essay, which was at the very end of the page limit. It was up to your standards, you decided, reading over it once more before turning it in. You should have felt relieved, that one of the things hanging over your head was now completed. Instead, you could only look to the next essay, and the one after that. And the exam next week, the project the week after. It was so easy to get overwhelmed if you thought too hard about everything, so you did your best to focus on each task one at a time.

Perhaps it was this very narrow view of your life that had you not really thinking about your girlfriend in the other room. She’d been waiting for you to emerge from the office all afternoon, only getting you to take a short break to eat.

She just wanted to spend time with you. Catch up on a show, or hold you on the couch and talk. It didn’t make any sense to her, why couldn't you just put the schoolwork down for one night, and pay attention to her. Maybe you would have, if she’d just asked for it. Instead, she sat quietly in the living room, trying her best not to cry as her feelings began to overwhelm her. Was she really that horrible to spend time with? That her own girlfriend preferred mindless busy work to being with her?

Deciding to end her pity party, she wiped at her eyes, checking in the front hall mirror that there were no visible tear marks, before she made a very pathetic attempt to get your attention. It wasn’t very late, but training had been grueling today, and Jenni knew that if she was tired, you must be exhausted.

“Mi amor?” Jenni called from the doorway of the office. “Are you coming to bed?”

You didn’t even turn your head away from the screen in front of you for a full 20 seconds, and when you finally did, it was to stare almost blankly at your girlfriend. “Huh?”

“I was just- I’m going to bed now. Goodnight.” Before you could reply, Jenni was turning around and heading down the hall towards the bedroom. No goodnight kiss, no request for you to join her. You blinked after her, struck by how cold she’d just been with you. Now that you thought about it, she’d been like that for a few days, and you hadn’t noticed.

You turned back to your outline, copying lines from your notes mindlessly as you tried to figure out the source of Jenni’s frustration. Of course, you settled on yourself. You were a disaster at the moment, and you knew that. The only logical thing you could come up with was that Jenni was just… annoyed with having to deal with you like this. There were only a few weeks left of term, and you decided to try to bother her as little as possible until then. Once school was over, for good, you could go back to being the smiley, relaxed girlfriend Jenni was used to. The one Jenni preferred.

You had very little clarity of when you fell asleep. One second, you were typing away, eyes drooping. The next, you were facedown asleep, your face smushed into your keyboard.

Jenni managed to fall asleep without you next to her, but did not remain that way for long. After only two hours she woke, frowning to herself when she realized the bed was still practically made on your side. With a sigh, she dragged herself from bed and walked down to the office, prepared to drag you to bed if she had to. Even if you were avoiding her, she had to put her foot down somewhere; this was bordering on unhealthy.

She trudged into the office, lips curving into a small smile as she noticed you out cold on your laptop. It didn’t look very comfortable, and the quiet inhales and marks on your cheek told her you’d been asleep for a solid amount of time.

“Amor,” Jenni sang, her voice soft and loving as she roused you from a deep sleep.

“Jen?” You picked your head up, blinking groggily up at her, and winced at the knot that had appeared in your neck. You’d fallen asleep, you realized. It was dark in the room, and Jenni’s face was half hidden by shadows. It was unreadable, and you cursed yourself internally for immediately breaking the promise you’d made to yourself just a few hours prior. The promise to not make Jenni suffer through your stress along with you. She must be so upset with you, having to come check on you like you were a child. Still, Jenni was kind and you knew that the way she carefully picked you up and cradled you to her chest didn’t mean she still wasn’t annoyed. It didn’t mean you weren’t being too much for her, it just meant Jenni was a good person.

“Let’s go to bed, sí?” She cooed, carrying you down the hall.

You nodded into her chest, allowing yourself a moment of comfort. You fought against the tightness in your throat and the moisture in your eyes as you realized just how exhausted you were, not wanting to make the situation any worse. Warmth filled your girlfriend’s chest at the feeling of having you so close to her again, but that feeling faded quickly when she placed you down on the bed, and you immediately rolled to the edge of your side. As far from her as possible.

This cemented it in her mind, honestly. That you were avoiding her on purpose, using your school work as an excuse. And you were only more sure that she was tired of how much stress you brought to her life when she didn’t curl her body around yours, as she normally did. Both of you were miserable as you drifted off, completely incorrectly convinced that the other person was angry.

-----

You were not a morning person, but your girlfriend was. It was your daily routine at this point for her to wake you up in the morning, a mug of coffee in her hand and a soft smile on her face, dimples just barely peeking out. Or, you’d wake to her curled around you, her breaths steady puffs on your neck. Never, never, did you wake to nothing. No Jenni at all. Your alarm went off, and you groaned, feeling that the few hours of sleep were not enough. You were barely conscious, rolling onto the other side of the bed in search of your girlfriend’s warm body. Nothing.

Waiting a beat, you listened for her footsteps coming up the stairs. Nothing. Minutes passed with no appearances from the striker, and you rolled over towards the bedside table, grabbing your phone. Her location showed her already at the training grounds, a full hour early. You pictured her taking free kicks from all over the pitch, the same scowl on her face she always got when she was worked up about something. You loved that scowl, despite the cause of it. You liked to make it turn into a huge grin, one that brought out the dimples on her cheeks.

God you missed her. Suddenly, with full force, you missed her deeply. Though you’d seen her last night, it felt like you’d been gone for weeks. You supposed you had, too caught up in your school work to think of much else. You wondered if she missed you, too, or if she was glad for the break.

No way to know, you decided, even though there very clearly was. Deciding that you could get a bit of your next essay done before you had to get ready for training, you dragged yourself out of bed and down the hall to get some coffee. There was some left on the counter for you, in a mug that had Jenni’s face on it, a joke gift she’d given you last christmas. On the very rare occasions Jenni had to leave the house before you were up, she almost always left a little note. Sometimes it was something cheesy and adorable, and other times it was just a heart. Today, there was nothing but the mug, the coffee inside already cold.

------

When Jenni entered the house after dinner, she was feeling kind of guilty for being so distant the past few days. Especially after seeing how exhausted you were the night before. With the whole day to think about things, she realized maybe she should be more worried than upset with you.

She’d left before you were even awake. Obviously, you couldn’t discuss anything at training, and you’d gone straight to the library after to work on your essay. Jenni had made herself get out of the house, getting together with a few friends, texting you quickly that she wouldn’t be home for dinner.

She knew she’d been a bit immature and that she should have just communicated her issue to you. Before you, she’d never felt needy. Now, though, it felt like any time away from you was difficult. And the distance she’d forced in the past few days hadn’t made her feel better like she thought; she hadn’t gotten used to not being around you. Instead, she just missed you even more. Maybe she would have talked to you, honestly, if she hadn’t been convinced that you were upset with her, tired of her.

She couldn’t hear the clicking of the keyboard coming from the office, and that would have been her first guess as to your location. Moving further into the house, Jenni looked around, finally spotting you in the living room. You weren’t lounging in the armchair, watching a show, like she’d been expecting. Instead, you were curled up into a ball on the sofa, sobbing into your hands. It was loud and painful, and the brunette was sure that you hadn’t even heard her enter the house. There were papers scattered around you, your computer set aside, still open to the essay that just wouldn’t get done.

The small sounds you were making in between each sob broke Jenni’s heart, and it only took her a minute to unfreeze, and cross the room.

“Amor, hey,” she cooed, crouching down next to the sofa and trying to tug your hands away from your face. You jumped slightly, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. You thought you’d have more time to hide your breakdown before Jenni got home.

“Go away.” You murmured, attempting to move away from her. Jenni was strong, though, and before you could move very far, you were being pulled into her lap.

“No. Talk to me.” Jenni encouraged, finally getting a look at your face. Her stomach dropped as she realized just how exhausted you were, and just how upset. Your bottom lip trembled as you tried to stop your tears, fighting against the urge to lean into your girlfriend. If the past day had taught you anything, it was that Jenni didn’t need to deal with your stress. That was the reason she must have been pulling away, and you wanted to respect her obvious need for space.

“I’m fine, Jenni, just go to bed. I’ll be in later.” Your voice was raspy from crying, and Jenni’s brow furrowed.

Shaking her head, she leaned in to place the gentlest of kisses on your cheek. “Cari, I am not going anywhere until you tell me what is wrong.”

Again, it felt like every part of you was begging to collapse into her. You just couldn’t do it. “You have enough on your plate. Don’t worry about me.” Even as you spoke, tears ran down your face, and you sniffled pitifully.

Jenni rolled her eyes in response, her slender fingers pushing your hair away from your face. “I love you, I am going to worry about you. Especially when I find you like this. Now tell me what is wrong so I can fix it.”

There was nowhere for you to look but at her, and her eyes were so earnest and so concerned, you gave in. “I-I’m just so stressed, Jen. I can’t- there isn’t enough time for me to get everything done and I’m so tired and I can’t do this anymore I’m losing my mind, and I’m too much for you and I just-”

Jenni became laser focused on the end of your rambling sentences, her hands working frantically to run through your hair and caress your face in comfort. “No, you are not too much for me, mi amor. Never. Why would you think that?”

Looking at her with wide eyes, you wondered why she was lying. “You’ve been avoiding me these past few days. You’ve barely been here, you left this morning without even waking me, I-”

Shaking her head rapidly, Jenni felt guilt tugging at her. She should have known better, should have known you’d never do anything to hurt her, but yourself? That was another story. “Amor, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks. I was only trying to give you space.”

“I was trying to give you space.” You choked out. “I thought you were tired of me.”

“No, mi amor, no.” Jenni sighed, gripping you by the shoulders and internally cursing herself. “I thought you were tired of me. You’ve been so busy, and I just thought you wanted to spend less time with me.”

‘No, I didn’t want that.” You shook your head, shrugging her hands off your shoulders, only to wrap your own arms around her abdomen and bury your face in her neck. “I was just so busy and so overwhelmed, I didn’t want to stress you out.”

With a gentle hand on the back of your head, Jenni pressed you in closer to her and left a kiss on the side of your head. “You do not stress me out. I want to help you when you are stressed, but I cannot do that if it feels like you do not want me around.”

You nodded into her neck, knowing she likely felt the tears running off your face and onto her skin. “I’m sorry.” You whimpered.

“It’s alright, cari. I’m sorry too, I should have noticed you were stressed.”

When she only got a shrug in response, she leaned you back from her and studied your face closely. “What’s going on, hmm? School doesn’t normally get you like this.”

Subconsciously, you tried to match the rise and fall of your girlfriend’s chest, willing yourself to just calm down so you could have a conversation. “It’s the extra classes. It’s way too much, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m barely getting everything done and it’s building up and-”

“Extra classes?” Jenni asked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion.

You blinked at her. You’d told her about the extra classes… right? Admittedly, Jenni didn’t listen very hard when you talked about school, so it was entirely possible she’d just missed it, but she always remembered the important things. “I told you. I’m taking four this term.”

“Four! Why would you do that?!” Jenni exclaimed, her face so comically surprised, you had to fight a smile. “You didn’t tell me, amor.”

“I did!” You argued back. “So I can finish school this term instead of after the next one.”

Jenni shook her head, her face turning slightly stern. “You did not tell me. That is too much, mi amor, why would you do that? No wonder you’re so overwhelmed.” She tutted.

You thought hard, your eyebrows scrunching in a way Jenni found downright adorable. “Oh. I decided when I was home with my family for the holidays. I must have told them and forgotten to tell you…”

You looked at Jenni wearily, wondering if she’d be upset. Instead, she was chuckling at you and shaking her head. It was very you to forget something like this. Jenni liked to joke that you spend all your brain power on football and school, and there wasn’t any left over for common sense.

“Sorry, Jen. I thought I told you.” You mumbled, face turning red with embarrassment. Maybe your girlfriend would have been annoyed, if she wasn’t so very in love with you. All your quirks, though, were just silly to her, endearing. She had become horrifically soft for you, she realized.

“It’s okay, you didn’t do it on purpose.” Jenni said kindly. “I understand now, why you’ve been so busy. But, amor, if it is too much, why don’t you just drop a class? Or turn in a few assignments late. You only need a certain grade to pass, no? Not everything has to be perfect. You have to give yourself a break.”

It was everything you’d needed to hear, and still, everything you refused to believe. You couldn’t drop a class, couldn’t get less than a perfect score. You didn’t deserve a break, not until everything was done. Jenni’s face fell as your eyes began to water again, and she worried she said the wrong thing.

A flood of words spewed from your mouth, trying to help her understand what you didn’t even really understand. “I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to take a break without someone telling me to, I feel like my body is shutting down Jenni, I’m so tired,” you sobbed, once more pressing your face into her chest, likely staining her shirt with tears. She was quick to wrap you in a hug, hushing you quietly.

“Oh, mi amor.” She sighed, stroking her fingers through your hair. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you were having a hard time, I’m sorry I didn’t help.”

That felt like an incredibly ridiculous thing for her to apologize for, and you told her so. “You shouldn’t have to do that, you shouldn’t have to take care of me like that”

“Of course I do. I want to. That is what partners do, no?” She replied incredulously, using her sleeve to gently swipe the tears off your face. She hated to see you cry, but she loved how long your eyelashes got when they were wet with tears; it made your eyes look bigger, somehow, and it always made her want to hold onto you and never let go.

“You don’t have to.” You argued weakly.

Jenni kissed you gently instead of replying right away, her soft lips pressing into yours telling you more than she could probably convey with words. “I’m going to, cariño.”

“Okay.” You whispered, effectively convinced by her kiss, knowing Jenni well enough to know that if you agreed with her, she’d kiss you again. And she did.

“We’ll start now then. Let’s take a break. We can lay on the couch and take a nap and then order dinner in.” She was already shutting your computer and carefully putting your notes into a pile, before placing it all on the table.

“But my essay,” you argued halfheartedly, knowing you would probably only be capable of writing incomprehensible sentences at this point. The striker turned back to you, a stern look on her face once again. Jenni shook her head firmly, her thumbs running back and forth across your cheeks in an incredibly soothing manner. “No essay is worth this. You need to take a break, and rest.”

“I- I don’t…”

“Hmm? You don’t what, amor?” Her voice held a challenge, almost begging you to argue with her about needing a break. She didn’t understand, but she wanted to, more than anything.

“I didn’t finish.” You whispered. “I don’t deserve a break until I’m done.”

“Cariño,” Jenni sighed, gently pulling on the back of your neck until you’d tucked your face in against her. She kissed the top of your head, mumbling her next words into your hair. “You are not a machine. You deserve a break whenever you need one, and you need one right now. No arguments.”

And though it felt all wrong, you let Jenni remove all your study materials from the room, putting them god knows where. She returned, sliding onto the couch and pulling you so you were laying in her arms.

Once your favorite show had been put on the TV, you looked up at her, chin resting on her chest. “I’m really sorry you felt so neglected, Jen.” You murmured. Now that you were no longer panicked about not getting your essay done, guilt had flooded you. “I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I promise. I’m so-”

“It’s okay, mi amor.” Jenni smiled. Now that her insecurities had been relatively addressed, [and now that she felt ridiculous for having them in the first place,] her only focus was on getting you to relax. Incidentally, that meant you would be spending a fair amount of time with her going forward, and that was a win for the striker. “I do not want to hear any more about it, si? All is forgiven.”

Jenni’s ability to forgive was one of her best traits, and you knew that when she said she forgave you, she meant it.

“Now, for my plan.” She continued, smiling almost mischievously at you.

“Your plan?” You asked wearily.

“Si, my very smart and well thought out plan.” Jenni grinned. “We are going to make a schedule. There will be Jenni time and study time, but not too much study time.”

“What about too much Jenni time?” You smirked.

She frowned at you. “That is not possible.”

You laughed, laying your head back down on her chest. “Anything else?”

“And now it is nap time, because your eyes are falling shut and you slept for three hours last night.” Her arms locked around you, allowing no escape. Not that you wanted one.

“Okay.” You mumbled, squirming slightly until your face was tucked into her neck, blocking out the light of the room. You drifted off quickly, lulled into sleep by Jenni’s hands rubbing up and down your back, and the rise and fall of her chest under you.

Jenni waited an entire hour to order dinner, thinking that she could wake you when it arrived, if you weren't already awake. She got the message that the food had been delivered a half hour after that, trying to wipe the stupid grin off her face at the way you were curled up on top of her. How she could have ever doubted your love for her, she wasn’t sure.

“Amor? The food is here.” She whispered, pushing your hair out of your face enough to see that your eyes were shut, your face relaxed. Giving up ridiculously quickly, she settled into the couch, allowing you to stay asleep. The food could wait. You needed the rest, and your girlfriend was more than happy to be a pillow for you, for as long as you needed her to be.

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as if i would study if i was jenni's girlfriend, and not spend the whole day looking at her like 🙂

#jenni hermoso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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