Blackpink Reaction To Their S/O Surprising Them W/ Dyed Hair

Blackpink Reaction To Their S/O Surprising Them W/ Dyed Hair

A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! Thank you guys for being patient with me on the requests, I really appreciate it. This is my first time writing a reaction, so let me know what you think. I hope you enjoy. Happy reading, everyone!

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Everything is under the cut :)

Jisoo

"Say hello to everyone," Jisoo requests through the phone, looking back up to the screen in front of her with that signature smirk playing on her lips. As fate would have it, she was in the middle of doing a live when you called. The fans love you -- especially since you're so funny and chaotic when you're around -- so you're happy to greet them.

"Hi, Blinks! I'll be there in a few minutes with a special surprise." 

Jisoo lets out a shocked noise at this, considering you hadn't told her about your plans. 

"Oye! Hurry home so we can see it." She says excitedly, lightly bouncing up and down on the bed. With a smile that's evident in your voice, you tell her goodbye.

---

In one swift motion, you scoop up a cheery Dalgom in your arms, laughing at how he licks your cheeks in greeting. 

"I love you, too, buddy."

After setting your bag down on the couch, you make your way to Jisoo's room. Little do you know, she has a surprise of her own in store.

"BOO!" She shouts, keeping her phone steady to capture your reaction to the scare. You tense up and shout, nearly dropping Dalgom in the process, but you recover after a moment. Both of you break out into a fit of giggles, and you look over at the computer on the bedside table to find the fans blowing up the chat. Jisoo wipes the tears of laughter from her eyes, and looks at you again; only now does she notice your new hair. 

At first, she's speechless -- only capable of looking at you with hearts in her eyes. Eventually, though, she finds her voice again. "Y/N! Wow, it looks gorgeous!" She smiles, running her hand through the newly dyed locks. Her accent made the compliment even more special, and you don't even try to stop the grin that tugs at your lips. 

---

Now seated on the bed with Jisoo beside you and Dalgom in your lap, you flip your hair around exaggeratedly as you show it to the audience. The positive comments roll in, and you take turns reading some of them out loud. From her position against the headboard, she can see the different hues of your hair shine and shimmer brightly in the gentle lamplight; she can't help but admire you.

After half an hour or so, she decides to end the live. You pull Dalgom into your arms again and smoosh your cheek up against Jisoo's, making sure to crowd in enough to fit into frame. Something must have gotten into her, because she leans around to press a lingering kiss to the corner of your lips, right in front of the camera. You can only imagine how much harder the fans are going to ship you now.

With a final wave and goodbye to everyone, she ends it. She wraps one arm around your back as her other comes to rest on your thigh, reaching up every now and then to pet Dalgom's head. 

"I'm so happy you like it." You say after a few minutes, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the room. She lifts her head from its place on your shoulder to look at you. "Of course I do, Y/N. Did you doubt that I would?"

"Not exactly… I was just afraid it might not turn out pretty. You know?" She nods in response, but her heart breaks a little: you have no idea how amazing you are.

"I understand, but you don't ever need to worry about that. Everything about you is beautiful because it's a part of you. You make everything pretty." She gushes, tracing little patterns on your hip. 

You attempt to dismiss her words, throwing a hand into the air while making a little "pshh" sound, but she doesn't stand for it. "I mean it, Y/N. I'm not just saying that. I'm glad to call you mine; you're so special." Her words affect you more than you thought they would, and soon tears are blurring your vision. Who knew dying your hair could lead to all this?

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, Jisoo, but I love you so much. You always know what to say." And it's true -- she does. She knows you get insecure sometimes, and she's always there to reassure you of her feelings when you need it most. 

"And I love you." She affirms, allowing her head to rest on your shoulder again now that you're happy.

Feeling left out, Dalgom lets out a little bark; he wants attention too. In an instant, the room is filled with kissy noises and the sound of your high pitched voices as you both talk to him and shower him with love.

Jennie

"Jen, I'm home!" With a shrug of your shoulders, the warm material of your coat falls down your arms. As you hang it on the rack beside the door, a smile tugs at your lips; Jennie gave you that coat, and it's always done well in keeping you warm and comfortable when she can't be around to do so. You make a mental note to thank her properly. 

With that, you amble into the kitchen.

"Yah, jagi! What took so long? I missed you." Jennie whines, her words slipping past the cute little pout that's surely adorning her face. She's preparing a snack at the counter, her back turned to you as she struggles to open the sauce jar. 

"Here, let me help," you offer, approaching her. 

As she hands you the container, she turns to look at you for the first time tonight. Her eyes widen as she does a double take at you. You don't notice, though -- your focus is elsewhere.

"Jisoo and I saw a new gaming store when we were out today and we decided to stop in. We didn't expect to be there for so long; we just got wrapped up." You tell her, answering her previous question as you finally manage to pop the lid open. Upon sliding the jar over to her and meeting her gaze, an instant blush begins to make its way to your cheeks. Her pupils are blown wide now, and her lips are pursed as she appreciates the sight of you. You never fail to send her heart wild.

"I'm convinced you can rock any color," she flirts, smiling widely at the reaction her words garner from you. 

"Why don't you come a little closer and get a better look?" You ask, fighting the shyness that threatens to take over you. She quirks an eyebrow before sauntering over, swiftly moving to tangle her hands in your hair. "It suits you so well, babe." She compliments, toying with the soft strands that fall down into your face as you lean in closer to her. Her embrace is comforting, as always, and you sigh at the feeling of her fingers against your scalp. Before she can stop herself, Jennie leans forward and connects your lips in a sweet kiss. She tastes like fruit, and you can't get enough of the flavor. Working with a sneaking suspicion, you open your eyes and glance over at her work station. Now, with your fears confirmed, you abruptly pull away.

She groans at the loss of contact, but you're quick to speak up. "You made tanghulu without me?? Woooow, Jennie. I'm hurt." You tease, acting truly upset as you take a step away from her. She shakes her head, letting out a little chuckle; for a second, she worried you were upset about something serious.

"Shush, we can always make more." 

You don't drop the act so easily, though, and the playful glint in her eye tells you that she's enjoying the banter. 

"What else have you done without me today? If you watched that new drama without me then you're sleeping on the couch tonight." A guilty expression falls over her features, and she avoids your gaze.

"About that…" she starts, rubbing the back of her neck as a dry chuckle slips past her lips.

"JENNIE KIM!" 

"I'm messing with you, babe. That would be treason." She pulls you into her arms again, raising a hand and giving you a sort of "scout's honor" gesture to prove that she isn't lying. After narrowing your eyes at her one last time to ensure she's being truthful, you give in and kiss her again. 

"Fine. You'll just have to keep kissing me to make up for the tanghulu."

"Oh, really? I'll have to start making it without you more often, then." She laughs against your lips as you pinch her for that remark. Your mood brightens exponentially at the sound of her giggles, and you wrap your arms around her even tighter.

Rosé

“I'm home, my love!" You shout, slipping your shoes off and setting them beside the door. A content sigh leaves your lips as you undo the top few buttons of your shirt, finally able to relax and see Rosé. Her excited footsteps carry out across the house as she makes her way downstairs, Hank following right along. You crouch down to pick him up, smiling at the precious way his ears bounce around as he runs into your arms. 

"Oww, my heart," Rosie exclaims with a grin, holding her hand against her chest in mock pain. Nothing can compare to seeing her two loves so happy and carefree. She pads her way over to you, and you kiss the top of Hank's head before setting him on the ground. Her arms wrap around your waist, and you pull her in for a warm embrace; the two of you stand like that for a minute, swaying back and forth. Eventually she pulls back to press a kiss to your lips -- something she's been dying to do all day -- and she takes your hat off in order to run her hands through your hair. 

"I missed you, babe." The words come out quietly, accompanied by a frown. You peck her lips again until her pout turns into a soft little smile, and rest your forehead against hers. 

"Me too. But now I have the next 3 days off, and I'm all yours." Her eyes look into yours lovingly, but quickly shift to look at your newly exposed hair. 

A sound of surprise stutters past her lips -- you've truly taken her breath away. She has a special twinkle in her eye as she looks at you, completely in love. Her fingers skim across your collarbone and neck as they move to play with your hair. 

"It's beautiful, just like you." You tut at her and bring your hands up to cover your face, taking refuge behind them. She's quick to pull them away, though, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and wrists before interlocking your fingers. 

"I mean it, Y/N. You're always so stunning." There's no denying the effect her words have on you; even after being together for as long as you have, her compliments never fail to set your heart aflame. 

"How'd I get so lucky, huh?" You ask her as you let your hands settle on her hips. She's clad in a crop top and jeans, and the soft skin of her abdomen against your fingertips is a wonderful contrast to the rough material of her pants. 

It's her turn to blush now. "I love you to the mountains and back and to the far far hills--" your giggles interrupt her recital, and she just laughs along with you. "I love you, too, Rose. So much." She presses another kiss to your cheek before leading you up the stairs and calling out for Hank to follow.

Lisa

As you walk down the hallway of the dance studio, destination set on Lisa's rehearsal room, you can hear the strong beat of "Candy" by Doja Cat pulsing inside. A stray staff member passes by you, looking nearly entranced as you run a hand through your hair to readjust it and smile at her. She watches you walk away, incapable of taking her eyes off of you, and that simple act boosts your confidence tenfold. You had been a little nervous to see how people would react to your new look -- Lisa, in particular -- but all of the approval you've been receiving has eased your worries so far.

With one final, steadying breath, you release your fears and open the door. 

Your girlfriend doesn't notice you come in at first, given that she's totally in her element, her body winding around as she performs the moves expertly. You lean against the doorframe now, taking in the beautiful sight. During one particular part of the song, she does a set of body rolls, putting the muscles of her abdomen on full display as she flexes them. The low lighting of the room sets the mood perfectly, creating just the right ambiance.

"Damn, baby. Am I crazy or are you somehow getting even better?" The words startle her ever so slightly, pulling her from the other world that she was just in. She glances at you from across the room, and a look of confusion crosses her face for a split second. After she registers that you're you and not some random staff member, her jaw drops to the floor. 

Totally disregarding your previous question, she's quick to replace it with her own as she runs over to you. "Y/N! Oh my gosh, why didn't you tell me??" The words come out in a rush as she engulfs you in a tight embrace, and you snuggle into her warmth. 

"I wanted to surprise you. I've been wanting to switch it up for a while, and somebody told me that this is your favorite color." You say, unwrapping one of your hands from her waist and bringing it up to toy with your hair. "Do you like it?" You ask, biting your lip as the nerves begin to creep back in momentarily. Lisa hasn't said anything yet -- she's just been studying your features with the hint of a smirk on her lips. 

"No, I don't."

"Wha--"

"I love it, babe. You're so beautiful." She says as she rests her forehead against yours. 

With a sigh, you nudge her playfully. "Hey, don't do that to me! I thought you didn't like it." You pout, avoiding her now incredulous gaze.

"Look at me." She commands, cupping your cheek gently as she lifts your head to face her. "Did you seriously think I wouldn't like it? You could be bald and I'd still be just as in love with you as ever. But that color looks absolutely gorgeous on you." 

She always knows just what to say. 

"I love you, dork." You grin, pressing a kiss against her soft lips. 

"And I love you. Now, come dance with me." Her hands skim down your arms on their journey to your hands, and she interlocks your fingers. She walks backwards towards the middle of the room, doing a goofy little shimmy on the way. Her antics draw a giggle from you, and she reciprocates. Before long, the two of you are having a full on dance battle as another new song blasts through the speakers.

The Finer Things

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 4,864

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

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

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Blackpink. I hope you enjoy. Happy reading, as always! Let me know what you think. 

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Part 1: Partners

“Alright class, settle in now. Today we’ll be starting our new projects. You know the drill; they’ll be a quarter semester long, and you’ll have a partner to work with. That gives you 9 weeks to complete the assignment and be ready to present your creations. Your topic is “the finer things in life”. Remember: there’s no exact way to do this. Whatever that topic means, however you interpret it, just show us what you envision when you think of that. I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

Unsurprisingly, everyone is rather excited for this project. Considering this class is an elective, your classmates signed up for it knowing what they were getting themselves into. Regardless, even the stray few that enrolled for an easy A would rather do this than Calculus and Statistics. 

Your eyes scan the room, and you smile upon seeing everyone light up as they discuss their game plans. Familiar eyes meet yours from across the room, and you feel a blush begin to rise to your cheeks. You mentally curse yourself at how easy it is for her to make you giddy, but you don’t look away. The small smile that she gives you nearly makes you combust from the cuteness; you can’t help the dorky grin that takes over your features. 

Before you can fully melt under her gaze, your teacher speaks up again. You silently thank the universe for that divine intervention. “Now that you’ve had a minute to brainstorm, it’s time for everyone’s favorite part: partner time! I’ve chosen your partners based on your individual strengths and weaknesses as photographers; I want this to be a true learning experience for all of you. Being an artist takes constant growth, and I see this as the perfect opportunity.” 

Since your class is a fairly close-knit group of students, no one’s upset by who their partners are. Mrs. Johnson continues rattling off the pairs, and you take a moment to look out the window. It’s a beautiful day, the trees swaying gently in the breeze. The vivid red hues of their leaves are complimented perfectly by the bright blue sky behind them.

“...Y/N, you’ll be working with Rosé.” The second those words leave her lips, your eyes shoot to your partner’s. It’s an odd feeling, to put it plainly; those were the words that you were dying to hear, but also terrified of. After all, working so closely with your long-time crush would definitely prove to be nerve racking. You didn’t have much time to worry, though, as Rosé sat down at the desk in front of you, turning the chair around to face you. It was clear that she loved to see what she did to you, your reactions to her words, everything. She studied you like her life depended on it, but you never noticed. Your brain was always too busy short-circuiting to take in the ways that she watched you from afar, remembering every detail, curve, and dimple of your face. 

“So, how about we meet up after school today to get some ideas going?” She proposes, and you nod. “How’s the park sound? I’d hate to miss such a gorgeous day.” Her face lights up at your suggestion, and you smile at the sight. In her excited state, she rushes out, “That’s just what I was thinking!” The two of you spend the rest of class chatting and goofing around, and go your separate ways once the bell rings. You send her one last wave, already missing her presence. To say the two of you are eager for your next meeting is a major understatement.

Part 2: The First Few Meetings

The first couple weeks are spent getting to know one another better and spending more time together -- something you definitely weren’t complaining about. Seeing her out of school, able to really be herself, was a magical experience. You often thanked your lucky stars that you decided to sign up for the class in the first place.

Part 3: You Go To One Of Her Practices

Attending school practices and games was never really your speed, but you made an exception for Rosé. Some family issues had gotten in the way of your meet-ups for a bit, so the two of you were a little behind schedule for the project. You weren’t worried (the honor student in you knew that you’d get it done in time), but Rosé asked you to stay after school for one of her cheerleading practices. “We can work on it everytime coach gives us a break, okay?” She had said earlier that day, during class. You were almost too mesmerized by the way her lips moved while she spoke to comprehend what she had said, her accent popping out in the most adorable way possible. 

The memory brought a light smile to your face, and she saw it, stealing a glance at you. You looked up at her and tilted your head to the side, letting her know she’d been caught. Her eyes widened in shock and she quickly cleared her throat, clearly not expecting that. 

~~~

“Ah, ah, ah,” you protested, blocking her from sitting down in the seat beside you. “Stand in front of me, I wanna take a picture.” She put on a horrified face, looking down at you. “Excuse me?? Absolutely not! I look terrible. I’m all sweaty.” You rolled your eyes at her, letting out a dramatic sigh. “I’m sorry to inform you, Rosé, but you’re physically incapable of looking bad. My condolences.” You bowed your head in mock pity, adding to the effect. “Oh shut up, you dork.” She said, pushing you playfully. “Fine. One picture; you better make it a good one.” You smiled your signature grin at her, and she got a little lightheaded at the beautiful sight. “1, 2, 3…”

Part 3.5: Could It Be?

“Rosé, I don’t know….” You begin, a grimace crossing your face. The object of your affection had spent the past 10 minutes trying to convince you to ditch work and accompany her to the local fair that was in town for the weekend. It’s not that you didn’t want to go; in fact, you can’t think of a place you’d rather be tonight than with her, getting away from the stress of everything life had been throwing at you. If you were honest with yourself, though, the work was just an excuse for something bigger; you knew that with each step closer you got to Rosé, you would eventually be taking two steps back. You had long ago assured yourself that she didn’t share your attraction, and you had done okay in accepting that fact. By okay I mean “totally not at all, even in the slightest.” You liked to pretend, though, wanting to have some semblance of control over the situation. 

“Pleeeeease?” She whined into the phone, drawing the word out to torture you a little more. Surely she had to know what she was doing.

That simple question served as your command, and it became very apparent in that moment that you’d do just about anything that Rosé asked you to. You kicked yourself, a genuine feeling of nervousness rushing over you. 

A sigh left your lips as you responded, “Okay, okay! But only for a little while.”

Her high pitched cheering drew a laugh from you, and you shook your head at her antics. What were you getting yourself into?

~~~~~

Rosé looked stunning, as usual. Her long blonde locks fell elegantly over her shoulders, looking just as soft as always. The pink top she donned complimented her light blue jeans perfectly; if you weren’t so enraptured by her, you might’ve gotten jealous. How can someone look so gorgeous without even trying? It’s infuriating, to say the least. 

“Ready?” Her cheery accent met your ears, and you felt yourself pep up at the single utterance. Dear lord, you’re in deep. Pushing the thoughts from your head, you send her a simple smile and nod, pulling her in for a hug. 

Freezing time had never been a thing that you thought about often, but it surely crossed your mind as you stood there with her in your arms, feeling her skin against yours. All too quickly she pulled away, already rambling excitedly about all of the rides she wanted to try out. You were still in a bit of a daze, her strawberry perfume making your head spin. Before you know it, she has a hold of your hand, dragging you towards the largest drop tower that the festival had to offer. Maybe this would be a good time to mention that you’re deathly afraid of heights…

~~~~

Hair disheveled and heart palpitating, you stumbled away from the ride. It was comical really, the state you were in. Rosé must have thought so, because she couldn’t contain her laughter once she looked over at you. The sound was music to your ears, and you quickly decided that you’d be willing to get back on that ride if it meant you could hear her giggle like that again. 

After your laughing fit died down, you suggested getting on the ferris wheel to see all of the city lights. Everything burned a little brighter this time of year, the downtown area bustling with life and activity.

“I was just about to mention that. I like the way you think, Y/N.” The combination of the look she gave you and the way your name rolled off of her tongue made you weak in the knees. Before your mind could even begin to question if she had meant something else -- something deeper -- you stopped yourself. It wouldn’t do any good to read too far into the things she said. It was just innocent teasing, you reasoned. 

You failed to notice the way Rosé had looked at you, her eyes taking in every part of you. She wanted to remember this sight; your head thrown back, eyes welling with tears of laughter. When you didn’t pick up on her flirting, though, she took it as a sign to back off a bit. Surely it had been obvious, right? She told herself she’d give it one more try, by the end of the night. No matter your reaction, she would have an answer. 

With that decision made, she led the way to the ferris wheel, you trailing happily behind her. 

“Two?” The worker looked to be about your age, face marked with acne scars, and attitude already unpleasant. With a simple gesture of confirmation, the two of you made your way to the nearest cart. You held the small gate open, allowing Rosé in first. The metal was cool against your palm as you closed it after yourself.

A chilly breeze rolled in, and you noticed her body shiver in the seat across from you. You could tell she tried to hide it, but you were far too observant to miss that. “Here,” you start, already pulling your leather jacket off of yourself and offering it to her. She shook her head furiously, saying, “No, I can’t. You’ll get cold up there!” Maybe it had been the slushy you had earlier, but you got a sudden surge of confidence. “Come over here, then. We’ll keep each other warm.” Her eyes shined with something you couldn’t quite place; something mischievous, perhaps.  

She quickly repositioned herself next to you, snuggling up against your side. “You’re still putting this on, Rosé.” You say lowly, lips grazing her temple. The way the words left your mouth, so matter-of-factly, made her bite her lip. You rarely told anyone what to do, so this role reversal was a bit unexpected. A welcome surprise, she thought, as she slipped the warm material over her shoulders.

~~~~

If someone offered you a million dollars to be anywhere else in the world right now, you would turn them down. You were sure that you had died and gone to Heaven, with how Rosé’s body fit perfectly up against yours and the distant skyline looked as though it had been stolen from a postcard.

Once the cart reached the top, the ride stopped for a short while, allowing you to get a picturesque view of the surrounding area. You grabbed the camera from your bag and snapped a few pictures, not wanting to forget this moment. A quiet wow left her mouth as she leaned over you, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. Has she never seen the lights like this? The untamed beating of your heart echoed wildly at the feeling of having her so close. You prayed she wouldn’t notice the tremble that ran through you as she placed her hand on your thigh, pushing herself up higher into the air for a better perspective. She must’ve noticed something in the distance, because soon she was pointing across the city and bouncing lightly in the seat. With some help, you located what she was so excited about: it was an inflatable cat. She had been that giddy over an inflatable animal on the porch of someone’s apartment. Such a dork, you muttered. She drew in a breath, feigning disbelief. “I am not!” She started, about to defend her honor, when she turned her head. In the excitement, the two of you had pressed closer together -- much closer than either of you had realized -- and now you were face to face. Your eyes darted down to her lips, and you almost threw caution to the wind and closed the distance. You didn’t, though, still missing the signs she was sending you. Her gaze raked across your features, and she grew bold; her hand came up to your cheek, her thumb soon brushing the soft skin. She was achingly close; you could feel the warmth radiating from her body, calling for you.

This cycle continued; both of you waiting for the other to make the first move, terrified that the other didn’t feel the same. It was a wicked game of cat and mouse, and you were finally getting the courage to end it. Just as you were about to lean in, the rickety ride started back up again with a groan, and she was jostled away from you, back into the seat.  

That had to be some sort of symbolism. 

The rest of your night went well, soon again filled with laughter and jokes, but the two of you couldn’t shake what happened. There was an air of something uncertain now, and only something significant was capable of putting an end to this cruel arrangement. 

Part 4: The Realization

“Shit!” You exclaim with a huff, realizing your mistake. “Rosie, do you have any extra film for the polaroid? I lost the last pack I had.” You mentally slap yourself for that one. When you don’t get a response, which is quite unusual for Rosé, you take that as a sign to go look for her. The two of you had chosen to work on the project at her house this time, and it was definitely more spacious than yours. “Rosie?” You call out to her again, checking the rooms as you pass them. Sniffling sounds perk up your ears, and you follow them to their source: the bathroom. “What happened, Rose?” She just sniffles again, letting out a defeated sigh. “It’s nothing, Y/N. I’m okay.” You shake your head, a pained look taking over your features. Knowing that she was hurting killed you. “I don’t believe you. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but at least let me cheer you up. Please?” You plead through the door, waiting rather impatiently for her response. Wordlessly, she gathers herself and opens it, choosing to lean against the frame and meet your concerned gaze. “It’s Joon. He’s being an ass.” You set your jaw and quickly bite your tongue, not wanting to upset her more. Her sweater is soaked and matted with tears, large stains polka-dotting the fluffy material.

Who’s Joon, you may ask? Rosé’s boyfriend and star of the football team… aka your arch nemesis. The two of you typically avoided talking about him, and dating in general. As far as you were concerned, he wasn’t deserving of the attention. A muffled sob pulls you from your stewing session, and you’re quick to step forward and wipe away her tears. You cup her cheeks, softening at the way she leans into your embrace. It’s not hard to tell that she doesn’t get the love that she deserves. “You’re too good for him, Rose. He’s never deserved you.” You say softly, tired of seeing her being mistreated. One instance of this was more than enough, and knowing that this isn’t the first time that he’s been the reason for her tears makes your blood boil. You pull her in, and she rests her head against your chest. If circumstances were different, you would’ve been terrified to have her so close; however, that’s not at the forefront of your mind right now. You’re determined to be there for her, even if it’ll never be in the way you want. “You should be with someone who values you. You can do so much better.” You whisper against her temple -- just loud enough for her to hear -- lips in the same position as they were that night at the fair. It comes out as a gentle confession, but you say it like the simple fact it is. 

After a few more moments of holding her close, her sweet vanilla perfume in the air, she shifts in your arms. Her eyes find yours, and the moment seems as though it was plucked out of some cheesy, coming of age movie. Something within both of you clicks at that point, and you just know. Her slightly puffy features look especially adorable right now, her eyes sparkling. That always seemed like such a strange, poetic thing to you -- how some people can manage to look so stunning after crying. It’s as though she needed that, in some twisted way. It opened her eyes to the situation she was in, although it hurt. She knew she could get through anything, though, with you by her side. And standing there, wrapped in your warmth, she really couldn’t find it in herself to even think of Joon. 

Your eyes fell to her lips, and she didn’t fail to notice. God, those lips. You thought, remembering all of the times you’ve wanted to kiss her. She somehow managed to be utterly perfect without even trying. Your heart rate sped up at the feeling of her hands working their way down to your waist, gripping your hips tightly. The atmosphere shifted, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. “Y/N…” she says lowly, almost as if she’s trying to keep herself from doing something stupid. “Hmm?” You drag out, causing her to bite her lip in return. Just as the two of you lean in ever closer, the sounds of keys jangling downstairs interrupts your moment. Feeling brave, and not wanting that encounter to pass with nothing to show for it, you give her a sweet kiss on the cheek. You chuckle lightly at the whine that leaves her lips, and take a minute to gather yourself before leading the way downstairs to greet her parents. 

----

Over the next few days, neither of you mention all that’s happened. You want to, but you have no idea how; your nerves would surely get the best of you. And what if she didn’t feel the same? How embarrassing would that be? You wanted nothing more than to have that Hallmark, fairytale ending with her, but you knew that was unrealistic. So, you did what you do best; you continued falling for her from afar, attempting to settle into this routine.  

Little did you know that she hadn’t stopped thinking about it. She often found herself stroking her cheek, where your hand had been that night. If she focused hard enough, she could almost remember the smell of your tropical shampoo, too. Her feelings confused her, but she knew what she wanted. Her fear of rejection outweighed her courage, though, and she never knew how to tell you that she had fallen for you. 

Part 5: An Overheard Conversation

As you made your way through the halls and towards the library, your mind wandered to a place it often frequented: Rosé. You had been so caught up in other things that you hadn’t really registered that the project would be over soon. It saddened you to think about, but maybe it was for the best. Perhaps a little distance between the two of you would make it easier to ignore your feelings. Turning the corner, you collided with someone, sending their books into the floor. “I’m so sorry!” You apologize quickly, making sure they’re alright, before helping them gather their things. They do the same, and continue on their way as you readjust your clothes.

At the sound of that achingly familiar voice, you freeze.

“I broke up with him, Jennie.”

That’s all it took for you to press yourself up against the wall, set on listening in on the conversation without getting caught. Part of you felt bad for doing that, but there was no way you were leaving now.

“Good, he never deserved you anyway.” The other girl, Jennie, said, and you made a mental note to give her a high five later on. 

“He took me for granted. I’m just upset it took me so long to realize it.”

“Hey, don’t do that. You remembered your worth and didn’t let that jackass hurt you anymore. That’s queen status, if you ask me.” Make that a double high five.

The sounds of her locker being closed lead you to believe that the girls are about to walk away and end the conversation, but you soon stop dead in your tracks, yet again.

“There’s another reason that I ended things, though, and I’ve been meaning to tell you about it.” 

“Ooh, do tell.”

Rosé clears her throat, and quickly checks to make sure the coast is clear before speaking again. Thank God she didn’t notice your presence. 

“I’ve liked this person for a really long time, Jennie.” She confesses, before continuing. “They’re always there for me when I need them… and don’t even get me started on how adorable they are.”

Jennie chuckles at Rosé’s words, and you can see her shake her head. “What??” Rosé asks, pushing her shoulder lightly. 

“You’ve got it bad. I’ve never seen you blush like that at just the thought of someone. And that’s saying something.”

Rosé hides her face in her hands, embarrassed but amused. “She’s just so incredible.”

Your heart stops, blood running cold in your veins, and your hand shoots up to cover your mouth. Does Jennie know she likes girls? SHE LIKES GIRLS?? I mean, you had thought so after that night but she’d never admitted it before.

“She?” Jennie asks gently, not even a trace of judgement in her tone. A little surprise, sure, but nothing bad. Rosé simply takes a deep breath and nods her head, waiting for her best friend’s reaction to her slip up. It’s not that she thought she would be unaccepting, just that these kinds of things were a little bit of a shock to hear sometimes.

“Well, who is she? I’ll have to do some snooping on your next potential love interest.”

Rosé lets out a giggle, and you almost blow your cover by laughing with her.

“You won’t be getting that information out of me yet, Jennie. No way.” She says, taking the other girl’s hand and leading her down the hallway, away from you. 

Once alone again, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Could you be that girl?

Part 6: Presentation Day

As you make your way to your seat, you let out a tired yawn; you had stayed up late adding some last minute touches to your presentation. You wanted it to be a surprise for Rosé, so you hadn’t told her about what you had done. Hopefully she would enjoy it.

The other groups each took turns showcasing their projects and explaining what the prompt had meant to them. Some said “money”, “luxury”, “time”, etc. Your answer was a bit different than theirs, and you were excited to share it with everyone.

Once it was your turn to present, you made your way up to the front of the room, selecting the correct files and connecting your device with the projector. Rosé could sense that you were anxious, which wasn’t new for you; school presentations had always made you nervous. Silently, she took your hand within her own and rubbed her thumb across your knuckles. None of the class was paying much attention yet, since you were still technically getting set up, and you were beyond thankful for that intimate moment with her. 

A short time later, you begin. 

Rosé expertly introduces the different topics you chose to cover with the prompt, explaining their meaning with sincerity. Images of old couples smiling, holding one another close, graced the screen when she brought up “growing old together” as a finer thing in life. “Not everyone gets the opportunity to do that with who they love,” she said, and you noticed that her eyes went to you when she said that. Maybe you just imagined that last part, you thought to yourself. Surely so. 

Other slides of animals, pets, and nature appeared as she continued her speech, followed by her suggestion that “the act of loving and preserving Earth and its creatures” is another finer thing in life. 

This process continued, with you jumping in for the slides that you had chosen to take over for. 

Upon hearing Rosé finish her last stretch of rehearsed dialogue, you look to your teacher, who gives you a subtle nod and smile. Rosé shoots you a confused look, but you don’t answer her with words. You move a nearby chair to face the board before bringing her to it. She sits, even more confused now, but trusting you. 

You swallow nervously, and lick your lips. “Over these past couple months, Rosé and I shared new experiences,” with a click of the remote, images of your adventures flood the screen -- your trips to the lake, forest, park, and even the beach, capture the attention of the class. Rosé was right there with them, considering she had never seen some of these pictures, let alone expected you to present them. “We tried new foods, left our comfort zone, and learned more about each other.” More images popped up; some from when you went on a tour of the different restaurants around town, some from bungee jumping, cave exploring, and open water fishing. 

“But as we grew closer, I realized more about myself in the process. I’m totally, utterly, and undeniably in love with you, Rosé.” The next set of candid images shows a new glint in your eyes when you look at each other; this was when you had really gotten in deep. You shyly raise your eyes to hers, your stomach in knots. Tears are quickly forming in her eyes, and she’s covering her mouth to quiet herself. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been, and life feels better with you. You are my finer thing in life.” Despite all of the emotions she’s feeling right now, she smiles at the dorky pictures of the two of you doing random things during your shared escapades. 

Finally, you click to the last slide, revealing a series of pictures of you spelling out, “Be mine?” 

This was the final straw; tears finally make their way down her face, spilling onto her soft cheeks. You nod at Mrs. Johnson the same way she had done before, and she swiftly bends down to grab something beneath her desk. When she returns, she hands you a single red rose. “OMG! A rose for Rosé, how cute!” One of your classmates yells from the back of the room, and you laugh aloud. That broke the tension, and soon all of you were giggling loudly together. “Well, whaddya say?” You ask, holding out the rose to her in offering. Wordlessly, she takes the flower and wraps her arms around your neck, connecting your lips in a long overdue kiss. The class erupts at this and she smiles against you. 

“Mission accomplished.” Mrs. Johnson says to herself, once everyone is settled back in their seats and chatting about what happened. “I was hoping that would work out.” Confused, you decide to inquire. Reluctantly taking your eyes off of Rosé, you look to your teacher and ask, “Did you plan this from the beginning?” She gives you a curious look before scoffing, “I’m practically a matchmaker, Y/N. I saw the way the two of you looked at each other. It would’ve been a crime not to pair you up.”

Your mouth hangs agape as you look back to Rosé, finding her donning a similar expression. “I was tricked into the plan!” You realize, laughing with her. “It was destiny, then.” She says, pulling you in by your collar for yet another kiss, loving the feeling of your blushing cheeks against her own.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for reading!!!

Happiest Year(s)

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 1,759

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

“Hold me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s beautiful, Jisoo.”

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

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

Somewhere Only We Know (As We Are Now)

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader

Word Count: ~ 1,047

Summary: After a fight with Cordelia, you're left to pick up the pieces. While doing some reflecting, Misty (and the girls) help you decide what comes next.

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst (not entirely soul crushing tho), Potentially Hopeful Ending, Like 1 Curse Word

A/N: Hey guys, I hope you enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated. Happy reading!

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It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You’d think after everything you’ve been through together -- the ups and downs, constant tension and ever-changing circumstances, literal hell and back -- things would’ve found a way to work out. But right now, as you mindlessly twist the band around your finger, it all seems pretty hopeless. Memories of the night she gave you that ring come flooding into your mind:

“Darling, you look absolutely stunning.” At the sound of Cordelia’s voice, you turn your head towards her and smile. “Right back at you, sweetheart.” You quip, lowering the heat of the burner and wrapping an arm around her. She settles against your side, pulling you ever closer into her magical embrace. “Here, taste it.” You quickly gather some of the sauce onto the spoon and hold it to her lips, once it’s cooled down. Judging by the look that she gives you and the ethereal sound that she lets out after she tries it, it’s safe to say that she approves. “It’s delicious.” You blush lightly, still just as excited by her praise as ever. “It’s new, some type of Italian sauce for the pasta. Misty let me use some basil from her garden.” A wide grin spreads across your face and you raise your eyebrows at that last fact -- anytime Misty gives you fresh ingredients for a new dish, it usually turns out amazing. “She did, did she?” Delia asks, smirking lightly. You hum in response, and she kisses your temple. “Let’s eat.” You declare, before plating up the food.

Full and content, you look at Cordelia across the table. “Thank you for tonight, love.” You bow your head, smiling as you return her gaze. “My pleasure. I know you’ve had a lot going on recently with the girls, and I wanted to treat you to a nice meal.” At that, she sits unwavering for a moment, before a look of affirmation crosses her face. “And that is precisely the reason that I’m giving you this,” she states, pulling a small box from her pocket. “I’ve been realizing just how in love with you I am, Y/N. You’ve been by my side through it all, and I promise to do the same for you. I wanted to give you something to remind you of that, and I figured this would suffice.” She says, voice shaky with emotion, as she slips the ring onto your finger. “I don’t know what to say, Delia. Thank you... I love you so much.” You utter, tears in your eyes. She moves closer to you, enveloping you in her arms and keeping you close. 

The distant sound of a dog barking brings you back down to Earth. The bed had grown cold a long time ago, and the smell of her perfume was beginning to fade. Attempting to take your mind off of it, you slink down to the kitchen for some warm tea. Needless to say, that was a horrible idea. As you wait for it to steep, your eyes wander to the dining table; the same table that you had shared many meals, “I love you’s”, tearful reconciliations, and other defining moments in your relationship. As much as you try to fool yourself, the truth is blatantly obvious; everything reminds you of her. After all, when someone becomes your world, you tend to find them in everything. Whether it be the golden rays of sunlight shining on you to remind you of her angelic hair, or even the chill that goes up your spine at the memory of her hands all over you, you can’t escape your thoughts. It’s sweet torture, working to tear you down and build you back up all at once. As you taste the tea, her flavor comes to mind. Countless hours spent kissing and making love had made you accustomed and fine tuned to her. Knowing her body like the back of your hand was proving to be a blessing and a curse.  

As you sit alone with your thoughts, a sudden wave of anger washes through you. Without restraint, your cup flies across the room and shatters against the wall. Warm, salty tears spill from your eyes and flow relentlessly down your cheeks; you’re too drained to wipe them away. “Y/N? Are you alright?” It’s Misty. Sweet, loving, Misty. She takes a seat beside you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “No, I’m not, Mist. I miss her so much, I just don’t see how I so royally fucked this up.” It was no secret to the Coven that the two of you were taking some time apart, to put things nicely. After all, it wasn’t hard for the girls to see when something was wrong with the power couple of the house. “I know it’s hard, but I can’t stand to see you upset like this. I’ve dealt with more than enough suffering in my life,” she pauses for a moment, “so take my advice: go after her. Sitting here, wallowing in your sadness, doesn’t give you any chance at making the situation better.” 

You let out a shaky breath, looking into her eyes. “I want to, but what if she doesn’t want me anymore?” At this, Misty lets out a small chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “Y/N, that woman will always want you. She’s hurt, of course, but she needs you now more than ever. This isn’t where your story ends… I just know it. Now go.” She says with conviction. The corners of your lips lift slightly, forming a soft smile. “Thank you, Misty. I love you.” You wrap her in a much needed hug, happy to have such an amazing person in your life. “I love ya, too. Now go get your girl.” She jests. Quickly grabbing your keys and wallet, you make a beeline for the door. Misty was right, as always: staying idle was doing you no good. “Good luck!” You take another look to find the source of the voice, and spot Zoe smiling at you from around the corner of the hall, giving you a thumbs up. The other girls are piled around her, and they quickly scurry off to try and hide the fact that they were eavesdropping. You laugh softly. “Thanks, girls.” 

Too Late To Apologize?

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

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,026

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

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

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

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

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

Surrender -- Natalie Taylor

The Night We Met -- Lord Huron

I Found -- Amber Run

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hongdae, Seoul  --  8:00 PM

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

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

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

--- Later That Evening ---

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

---

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

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

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

“Must you always tell people about that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---- 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

________

3 Years Later -- Rome, Italy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

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

____

Present Day, 1:17 AM

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't have a choice."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

Roseanne,

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

- Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--- A Few Days Later ---

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

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

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

----

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

“Come downstairs, please.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly; the rain stopped.”

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

Youth With You

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,113

HC Count: 31

This is a mix between headcanons and a one shot

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

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

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

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~ Practices ~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~ Performances ~~~

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

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

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

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

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

~~~ Bonus: Backstage ~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~ Bonus: A Private Meeting ~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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