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kyunghwannie · 6 hours ago

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Entangled In A Dance Of Love (Part: 3) [+18]

TWICE's Minatozaki Sana x M!Reader ft. TWICE's Hirai Momo

Part-1 | Part-2

➤ Words: 10914 words.

➤ Tags: Small Vanilla sex with Momo only for now (Blowjob and Pussy penetration only)

(Bare with me please. I have plans with Sana but the limit block of Tumblr is just messing my rhythm and style of writing more)

➤ Description: Momo and You got together? Wow, It's like a dream come true to be the partner of the Dance Queen of TWICE but what about the aegyo queen? The one who also had feelings for you but lost to her best friend like member but...knowing Sana, She wasn’t one to lose or give up something her heart yearns.

☞ A small rant, my dear readers. I hate Tumblr's 1000 block limit. Due to my writing style being not paragraph like, its hard to make it. So that's why, i had to make many parts

Is it truly the end..?

---

The sound of the door shutting echoed in my head like a dull thunder. I didn’t move for a few seconds, my gaze frozen on the space where Sana had been standing.

Her smile—that sad, tight-lipped smile. It was haunting me.

I swallowed hard and shifted, trying to sit up. But before I could, a familiar weight pressed against me again.

Momo.

Her arms tightened around my torso from behind, her bare skin warm against mine.

Her voice was soft but firm.

Momo: “Don’t.”

I frowned, still trying to push myself up.

Y/N: “Momo, I need to—”

Her hold tightened.

Momo: “No.”

I froze.

She buried her face into my neck, her breath warm against my skin. Her legs hooked around mine, locking me in place. I could feel her heart beating steadily against my back, as if she wasn’t even slightly shaken by what had just happened.

Or rather—she was, but she refused to show it.

Momo: “Sana will be fine.”

Her voice was so certain. As if she had already decided it for her. But I wasn’t convinced.

Y/N: “Momo, she…” I hesitated. “She looked hurt.”

Momo was silent for a moment, and then—she sighed. Not ouf frustration. Not out of impatience.

But as if she had already foreseen this moment and had been waiting for it to happen.

Momo: “She’s Sana.”

She said it like it explained everything.

I turned my head slightly, glancing down at her.

Y/N: “And?”

Momo: “She’s tough,” Momo murmured. “She always has been. She’ll be fine.”

I wasn’t sure if that was the truth—or if Momo was just convincing herself of it.

But I wasn’t convinced. Not after seeing the way Sana's entire expression crumbled. Not after seeing her fingers tremble. Not after hearing that forced, painful laugh.

I exhaled and tried to move again, but Momo held me down.

Momo: “Stay.”

It wasn’t just a request. It was a command.

And I hesitated.

Because this was Momo.

And in the months that she had wormed her way into my comfort zone, into my daily routines, into my heart—I had somehow become…weak to her

I felt my shoulders relax against my will.

Momo felt it too, because I could feel her lips curve into a small smirk against my skin. She knea. She knew that i was falling. Falling for her control. For her dominance.

For the way she could wrap herself around me, both figuratively and literally, and make me stay exactly where she wanted me.

I sighed.

Y/N: “…Momo.”

She hummed, nuzzling into my shoulder.

Y/N: “This isn’t fair to Sana.”

Momo was quiet for a moment.

Then, she tilted her head up, her lips grazing my jawline as she whispered:

Momo: “Fairness doesn’t exist in love.”

I tensed.

Her voice was so dangerously smooth. Like she had been waiting to say that. Like she had already thought about it long before this moment. And it made something inside me shiver. Because she was right.

Fairness didn’t exist in love.

People didn’t fall in love fairly.

They didn’t wait their turn. They didn’t play by some kind of invisible rulebook.

They just felt. And acted on it. Just like Momo did.

And just like Sana—who had never even gotten the chance.

I closed my eyes, exhaling deeply.

Momo stayed quiet, simply holding me, clinging onto me as if she had already decided she wouldn’t let go.

Minutes passed.

Then, she spoke again.

Momo: “Do you regret it?”

The question caught me off guard. I turned my head lightly, confused.

Y/N: “What?”

She pulled back just a little, just enough for our gazes to meet.

Her dark brown eyes held mine, searching.

Momo: “Us.”

Her fingers trailed lazily down my arm.

Momo: “Me.”

A slow smirk played at the corner of her lips.

Momo: “Everything.”

I didn’t answer right away.Because I didn’t know what to say.

Did I regret it? Regret her?

No.

But did I regret Sana getting hurt?

Yes.

And that was the problem. Momo could see it on my face.

She sighed, rolling onto her back beside me.

Her hand lifted, her fingers tracing absent circles against my forearm.

Momo: “I’ll talk to her.”

I blinked, turning my head toward her.

Y/N: “You will?”

She nodded, still staring at the ceiling.

Momo: “Eventually.”

I frowned.

Y/N: “Momo—”

Momo: “Not right now.”

She turned her head, her gaze meeting mine.

Momo: “Not while you’re still thinking about her.”

I stiffened.

Momo smirked.

She reached up, her fingers brushing my jawline.

Momo: “You don’t even realize how easy you are to read, do you?”

I swallowed. She rolled over again, her body pressing against mine.

Her legs tangled with mine, her fingers sliding down my chest.

I could feel her lips hovering just inches away.

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

Momo: “Tell me…”

She leaned in, brushing her lips against my earlobe.

Momo: “Are you still thinking about her now?”

My breath hitched.

Because the way her voice dipped—the way she dragged me back into her gravity—

The way she was so damn sure of her place in my life.

I clenched my fists.

Because she was winning. And i let her. I always did.

I exhaled slowly, my voice quiet.

Y/N: “…No.”

Momo smirked against my skin. She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.

Momo: “Good.”

Her fingers trailed down my chest before stopping at my waist.

Momo: “Then stop thinking about her.”

I hesitated.

Then, I nodded.

Momo smiled. A slow, satisfied smile. Because she knew she had me. And I was starting to think that she always had.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling. Momo’s arm was still draped across my chest, her fingers tracing slow, absent-minded patterns against my skin.

She had always been like this—possessive in a quiet way.

She didn’t need to say it out loud. Her actions were enough.

And yet… I still had questions.

Y/N: “What happens now?”

My voice came out softer than I expected. Momo hummed, not immediately answering.

Her fingers continued their lazy movements, as if she was thinking. And then—she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow.

Momo: “What do you mean?”

I hesitated. Then, I exhaled, my shoulders sinking further into the mattress.

Y/N: “Everything. You, me… Sana.” I paused. “And my career.”

Momo’s expression didn’t change. She just watched me, unreadable.

And then—she smirked.

Momo: “Are you getting cold feet already?”

I frowned.

Y/N: “That’s not what I meant.”

Her smirk widened. She reached over, her fingers grazing my cheek.

Momo: “Then what do you mean?”

I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment.

When I opened them again, she was still watching me. Still waiting. Still Momo.

Y/N: “I haven’t debuted yet.”

She blinked.

Y/N: “I don’t even know if I will."

Momo tilted her head slightly, studying me. And then—she exhaled, shifting closer.

Her leg hooked around mine, locking me in place. Her voice, soft yet firm.

Momo: “You will.”

I stiffened.

She said it so certainly.

Like it wasn’t even a question.

Y/N: “How do you know?”

She blinked at me.

Then, she laughed. Not mockingly. Not condescendingly.

But like she genuinely found my question funny. And then—she leaned down, pressing her forehead against mine.

Her breath was warm against my lips.

Momo: “Because I know you.”

Her voice was steady. Unwavering. She pulled back slightly, her fingers trailing down my arm.

Momo: “And I know how this industry works.”

Her expression turned serious. And for the first time since we started this… whatever this was—I saw Momo, the industry veteran.

The idol who had debuted in 2015.

The woman who had seen trainees come and go.

The woman who had fought to keep her place in this cutthroat industry.

She had been through it all. And now—she was looking at me with that same intensity. That same unshakable certainty.

Momo: “You’re talented.”

Her fingers tightened around mine.

Momo: “You work harder than anyone I’ve seen.”

Her eyes held mine, unwavering.

Momo: “And you have something most trainees don’t.”

I swallowed.

Y/N: “What?”

She smirked.

Momo: “Me.”

I blinked.

Y/N: “Huh?”

Her smirk widened.

Momo: “You have me.”

I stared. And she just grinned, nudging her nose against mine.

Momo: “That means you have an unfair advantage.”

I frowned.

Y/N: “Momo, that’s not—”

She cut me off with a kiss. Soft. Brief. But enough to shut me up.

And when she pulled back, her expression was serious again.

Momo: “I’m not saying I can make you debut.”

Her fingers curled around mine.

Momo: “But I can make sure you don’t burn out before you do.”

I exhaled. Because she wasn’t wrong.

The industry was brutal. The training, the expectations, the pressure—it was enough to break even the strongest.

But having someone who had already survived it? Someone who knew exactly what to expect? Someone who could guide me, support me, keep me from collapsing?

It was an unfair advantage. And Momo knew it. I looked at her, my chest tightening.

Y/N: “…Why are you doing this?”

She blinked.

Momo: “What do you mean?”

Y/N: “Why are you…” I hesitated. “Why do you care so much?”

Her eyes softened. And then—she sighed. Her fingers brushed my hair back gently.

Momo: “Because I want to.”

She held my gaze.

Momo: “Because I care about you.”

My throat tightened. She said it so simply.

Like it wasn’t even a big deal. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe to her—it was.

I exhaled, my fingers curling into the sheets.

And then—I felt her shift.

Before I knew it, she had rolled on top of me again, straddling my waist. Her fingers trailed down my chest, her smirk returning.

Momo: “And because I want my boyfriend to succeed.”

My brain short-circuited.

Y/N: “W-what?”

She grinned.

Momo: “What?”

Her fingers pressed against my chest.

Momo: “Are you not?”

I gaped at her.

Because what the hell was I supposed to say to that? We never really talked about labels. Never really defined what we were.

But here she was—dropping that word so easily. I swallowed hard.

Y/N: “…You never asked.”

She blinked. Then—she laughed.

Momo: “Do I need to?”

I stared at her. And she just smiled.

Momo: “You’re mine, Y/N.”

She leaned down, her lips brushing against my jawline.

Momo: “I thought that was already obvious.”

My breath hitched. Because she wasn’t wrong.

She had been staking her claim for months now. In small ways. In big ways. And I had just let it happen.

I exhaled shakily, my hands resting on her waist.

Y/N: “…Momo.”

She hummed, her fingers trailing down my sides.

Momo: “Hmm?”

I hesitated. Then—I sighed, my head dropping back against the pillow.

Y/N: “You’re insane.”

She grinned.

Momo: “And you love it.”

I groaned, my hands tightening around her waist.

Y/N: “I hate that you’re right.”

She laughed. And then—she leaned down, her lips brushing against mine. Her voice was a whisper.

Momo: “Good.”

And just like that—I knew.

That no matter what happened next—

No matter how hard this industry tried to break me—

No matter what obstacles came my way—

Momo wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was I.

---

Meanwhile – Sana’s Heartbreak and Resolve

The production room was silent.

Too silent.

Sana sat alone in one of the chairs, her hands curled into fists on her lap. The dim lighting from the monitor screens flickered against her face, highlighting the storm raging in her eyes.

The room wasn’t much—just a simple space filled with high-end audio equipment, large speakers, and a mixing board covered in blinking lights. TWICE had spent countless hours here, recording, refining, perfecting their songs.

But tonight… it felt different.

Tonight, it felt like a place where she could fall apart.

Her fingers trembled as she clutched the plastic bag of snacks she had brought earlier. Her appetite had vanished the second she had walked in on you and Momo—entangled in a way that screamed ownership, possession, victory.

Her breath hitched at the memory of Momo’s body pressed into yours like she belonged there. Like she had won.

The realization struck her again, sharper this time, twisting inside her like a knife. She lost.

She had always battled for what she wanted. Always chased after it with everything she had. And you—you were no exception.

From the moment she noticed you, she had been drawn in.

Not just because of your warmth, your kindness, or the way you made her laugh when she needed it most. Not just because of the way your presence felt like home.

It was because you saw her.

Not Sana the cute, flirtatious TWICE member everyone adored.

Just Sana.

She hadn’t realized how much that meant to her until it was too late. And now, Momo had taken that from her

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the image of her best friend laying claim to the man she wanted.

Her mind was a mess of emotions—anger, sorrow, frustration, and something dangerously close to desperation.

It wasn’t fair.

Momo had always been her best friend. The one who understood her in ways most people couldn’t. But at that moment, all she could feel was resentment.

Not at Momo.

At herself.

For waiting too long. For hesitating. For assuming there was still time

Her eyes burned as she leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. The silence of the room only amplified the loudness of her thoughts.

She exhaled shakily, her fingers gripping the edge of the chair.

Was this it?

Was she supposed to just… give up? Accept that she had lost?

She had seen the look on Momo’s face. That quiet confidence. That undeniable certainty that you were hers.

That certainty burned.

It clawed at the inside of Sana’s chest, filling her with something raw, something she couldn’t name.

Her breathing turned unsteady as she pressed her fingertips against her temple, trying to calm herself. This wasn’t like her

She wasn’t the type to break down over a boy. But you Weren't just any boy

And Momo—Momo wasn’t just any rival.

She had fought against Momo for years in dance practice, in training evaluations, even in the small competitions they created among themselves just for fun. But this… this was different.

For assuming there was still time.

This was real.

She clenched her jaw, her mind spinning.

She couldn’t afford to break down. Not now. Not when she still had a chance

Her heart clenched painfully at the thought, but she forced herself to sit up straighter, to breathe deeply.

Momo might have won the battle.

But that didn’t mean she had won the war. Sana wasn’t going o step back and let this end here.

Momo had been bold, had taken the first step before she could. But Sana wasn’t out of the game yet. A new resolve settled in her chest

She would fight for you.

Not in a way that would hurt Momo—she could never do that to her best friend. But in a way that would make sure you saw her.

Make sure you realized that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t so one-sided.

Because deep down, she could see it. She wasnt blind

She knew you cared for her too.

Maybe it wasn’t as obvious as Momo’s claim over you, but it was there. In the way you looked at her. In the way you lingered just a little longer when she reached for you. She had seen it, She had felt it

And she wasn’t going to let that slip away.

Her fingers tightened around the crumpled snack bag in her lap, her expression hardening. Momo might have had her moment but this Isn't far from over yet.

---

One Month Later – Love in Motion

The dance studio smelled like wood, sweat, and determination. The polished floor reflected the overhead lights, gleaming beneath the movements of two bodies locked in an endless cycle of push and pull.

The speakers blared a heavy beat, and I could feel it deep in my chest, syncing with my own rapid heartbeat as I pushed through the choreography.

And then there was her.

She stood in front of me, her body moving with fluid precision, every motion controlled yet effortless.

Her eyes—sharp, teasing, challenging—locked onto mine through the mirror as she guided me through another complicated sequence.

But unlike before, this wasn’t just Momo the strict mentor.

This was Momo the girlfriend.

And she was relentless.

I exhaled sharply, sweat dripping down my jaw as I stumbled slightly on the last move.

Momo’s hands were on me in an instant—not scolding, not cold, but warm, sensual, and ever so supportive.

Her fingers traced along my arms, her breath ghosting against my neck as she leaned in from behind, correcting my posture.

Momo: “You're getting better, baby.”

Her voice was sultry, teasing, laced with something deeper than just professional critique.

I gulped, knowing exactly what she was doing. This wasn’t just training anymore. This was her way of loving me.

She had found a balance between pushing me to be my best and cherishing me as her boyfriend.

And I—I had fallen for it completely.

The music restarted, and I adjusted my stance.

Momo stepped away, but not before giving me a playful smack on the arm, grinning mischievously.

Momo: “Again.”

I groaned dramatically, running a hand through my damp hair.

Y/N: “Momo-noona, give me a break.”

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head in mock disapproval.

Momo: “A break? You don’t want to be the best?”

She moved toward me again, slow, deliberate, her fingers trailing up my chest lightly before stopping at my collarbone.

Momo: “Or…”—she leaned in, her lips barely brushing my ear—“do you just want me to take care of you right here?”

A shiver ran down my spine.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay composed.

Y/N: “You’re evil.”

Momo laughed, stepping back with a smirk, her eyes filled with amusement and affection.

Momo: “And yet, you love me.”

She wasn’t wrong. I surely did.

Another hour passed, and my body felt like it was on the verge of collapsing. But Momo’s persistence, her unyielding belief in me, kept me moving.

She wasn’t breaking me down—she was building me up.

Momo: “One last time, Y/N.”

Her voice was softer now, almost encouraging.

I took a deep breath, nodded, and gave it my all.

And when the final beat dropped, I landed the last move perfectly.

Momo clapped her hands together, eyes sparkling with pride.

Momo: “That’s my boy.”

She didn’t even give me time to catch my breath before she tackled me, her arms looping around my neck as she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my jaw.

I sighed into her embrace, my arms instinctively wrapping around her waist.

Y/N: “You’re insane, you know that?”

Momo chuckled, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes.

Momo: “And yet…?”

I smirked.

Y/N: “And yet, I love you.”

Her expression softened, her fingers brushing damp strands of hair away from my forehead.

Momo: “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

I groaned, earning another melodic laugh from her.

But deep down, I didn’t mind.

Because this—this was love.

The music faded into silence, leaving only the sound of your ragged breaths and Momo’s soft, satisfied hum. Her hands—once firm with corrective guidance—now traced leisurely patterns down your sweat-slicked chest, her nails dragging just enough to make your breath hitch.

Momo: soft chuckle “Look at you. All tired already?”

You swallowed thickly, watching through the mirror as she circled you with feline grace. The way her athletic body moved—hips swaying, every muscle flexing beneath smooth skin—was hypnotizing. She knew it. Loved it.

Y/N: “Momo-noona… you’re killing me.”

She smirked, stopping behind you and pressing her front against your back. Her hands slid lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your sweats before she leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

Momo: whispers “Told you I wasn’t done.”

Your pulse spiked as her palm cupped you through the fabric, squeezing the steadily hardening outline of your cock. A breathy groan escaped you, shoulders tensing when she rubbed slow, torturous circles.

Momo: “Mmh~ You’re so responsive… love that about you.”

One hand tugged your shirt up, her teeth grazing your shoulder while the other crept beneath your waistband, fingers wrapping around your bare length. HOT. Thick, pulsing, already leaking against her grip despite the exhaustion from dance drills.

Y/N: “F-Fuck—”

Momo: laughs “Ah ah, language~”

She teased your tip with her thumb, smearing precum in slick motions while her other hand pinched and rolled a nipple. The mirror reflected her wicked grin as she watched you squirm under her touch.

Momo: “You’ve been working so hard… let noona take care of you now, hm?”

In one swift motion, she spun you toward the full-length mirror, back braced against the glass as she dropped to her knees. Her almond eyes locked onto yours, tongue darting out to wet her lips before she yanked your sweats down.

Your dick sprang free, flushed and throbbing, bobbing inches from her face. Momo didn’t hesitate—she leaned in, lips parting to drag the flat of her tongue up your shaft with a satisfied Mmmf~

Y/N: “Shit—Momo!”

Momo: humming “So tasty…”

She took you into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she sank down, her nose pressing into your pelvis. GOD. The warmth, the tightness, the way her throat fluttered around your tip—it was obscene but still heavenly as fuck.

Her hands gripped your hips, urging you deeper as she bobbed, spit dribbling down your length. Every suck, every flick of her tongue made your thighs tremble.

Momo: pops off “Look at you…”

She jerked you slowly, admiring how your cock twitched in her grip. Milky strands of saliva connected her lips to your tip, her pupils blown wide with hunger.

Momo: bites lip “Gonna fuck my face, baby?”

You barely nodded before she slammed you back between her lips, gagging herself on you deliberately, eyes watering as she took every inch. The mirror fogged with each ragged exhale you made while Momo worked you ruthlessly, her free hand sneaking under her crop top to grope her own tits.

Momo: whimper “Nhgh~ Y-You fit…so good…”

Momo’s mouth abandoned you with a lewd pop, her chest heaving as she stood. Your hands immediately found her waist, yanking her against you, cocks throbbing against her toned stomach while you crashed your lips onto hers.

The kiss was filthy—tongues tangling, teeth clashing, her moans vibrating into your mouth as you groped her ass through those tiny dance shorts.

Y/N: “Need you, noona… now.”

Momo: “Mmm~ Then take me.”

She turned, bending herself over the practice barre, ass on full display as she peeked back at you. Fuck. Her shorts were peeled down just enough to expose her plump, glistening pussy—already dripping.

You spat into your palm, slicking yourself before pressing the fat head of your cock against her entrance.

Momo: whining “Y-Yes… please…”

A single thrust buried you balls-deep, her cunt clamping around you like a vice. The mirror rattled as Momo’s fingers scrambled against it, her back arching beautifully when you pulled out and slammed back in.

Momo: “HAHHH~! FUCK!”

Her high-pitched cries filled the studio, every snap of your hips making her tits bounce wildly. You palmed her ass, spreading her cheeks to watch your cock disappear into her slick, pink folds over and over.

Y/N: “G-God… so tight—”

Momo: sobbing “D-Deeper! Mmmf—NGH~!”

Her legs gave out, forcing you to catch her, lifting Momo with an arm hooked under her thigh as you fucked her upright. The new angle had her seeing stars, her nails raking down your arms while her head fell back onto your shoulder.

Momo: panting “C-Cum inside… fill me—”

Three more brutal thrusts, and you exploded, hips stuttering as ropes of cum painted her walls. Momo’s entire body convulsed, her pussy milking you through your climax with erratic spasms.

Breathless, you collapsed onto the floor, Momo sprawled atop you, her chest rising and falling rapidly against yours.

Momo: giggles “Best… practice… ever.”

And as her lips claimed yours again, you knew she was right.

The studio air hung thick with the scent of sex—musky, sweet, laced with the tang of sweat and exertion. Momo lay sprawled across your chest, her lithe body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her skin glistened under the dim studio lights, every curve painted in a sheen of perspiration.

You traced idle patterns along the dip of her spine, fingers skating over the delicate ridges of her vertebrae before cupping the sinful swell of her ass. It was perfect—round, plush, with just enough give to make your fingers sink in as you kneaded the supple flesh.

Momo: soft moan "Mmm~ Hands still greedy, huh?"

Her voice was a sultry purr, laced with amusement as she arched into your touch. The way her body moved was hypnotic—every shift of her hips, every roll of her shoulders, fluid and effortless, like she was still dancing even now.

You smirked, giving her cheek a playful smack, watching the ripple of flesh beneath your palm.

Y/N: "Can you blame me? Look at you."

Momo giggled, pushing herself up onto her elbows, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief. The motion made her tits sway enticingly—full, perky, the dusky pink of her nipples still stiff from your earlier attention.

Momo: "You’re insatiable."

She leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, filthy kiss, her tongue sliding against yours with practiced ease. You groaned into her mouth, hands sliding up her sides to palm her breasts, thumbs brushing over her peaked nipples.

Momo: whispers "But I love it."

With a sudden, fluid motion, Momo straddled your hips, her thighs bracketing yours as she settled over your already hardening cock. The heat of her was intoxicating, her slick folds brushing against your length as she ground down, coating you in her arousal.

Momo: "You’re not done yet, are you?"

Her voice was a challenge, a dare, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles that made your breath hitch.

You gripped her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh there as you guided her up, lining your cock with her entrance.

Y/N: "Not even close."

With a sharp thrust, you sheathed yourself inside her to the hilt, the tight, velvety walls of her cunt clamping around you like a vice. Momo’s head fell back, a broken moan tearing from her throat as her nails scraped down your chest.

Momo: "F-Fuck—! Y-Yes~!"

Her body was a masterpiece in motion—every bounce of her hips, every arch of her back, every shuddering breath a symphony of pleasure. You watched, entranced, as her tits bounced with each movement, the soft flesh jiggling enticingly with every rise and fall.

Your hands moved to her ass, gripping the plush globes as you helped her ride you, your hips meeting hers in a relentless rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the studio, mingling with Momo’s breathy whimpers and the slick, wet sounds of your joining.

Momo: "H-Harder-please—!"

You obliged, driving into her with bruising force, the angle allowing you to hit that sweet spot deep inside her that had her seeing stars. Her thighs trembled, her moans growing louder, more desperate, her body tightening around you like a coiled spring.

Momo: "I-I’m gonna—NHG~!"

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her cunt clenching around you in erratic pulses, her back bowing as she came undone. You followed soon after, your release spilling into her with a guttural groan, your hips stuttering as you milked every last drop of pleasure from your bodies.

Spent and sated, Momo collapsed onto your chest, her breath coming in ragged pants as she nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

Momo: murmurs "We should… do this more often."

You chuckled, running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Y/N: "Only if you promise to wear those shorts again."

Momo laughed, the sound bright and carefree, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Momo: "Deal."

And as the two of you lay there, tangled together in the afterglow, you knew this was just the beginning.

The cool wooden floor beneath my back felt like heaven against my overheated skin. My chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, the aftershocks of what had just happened still tingling through my limbs.

And then there was Momo, sprawled half on top of me, her cheek resting against my damp shoulder. Her fingers lazily traced patterns on my stomach, her body still warm, soft and languid from pleasure.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Just the rhythmic sound of our breaths filled the dimly lit practice room, the faint hum of the speakers in the background, and the distant echoes of the outside world that felt so far away.

Then, out of nowhere, she let out a dramatic groan.

Momo: “Ugh… Y/N, my butt hurts.”

I turned my head slightly, still too drained to move much, and looked at her.

A lazy smirk formed on my lips.

Y/N: “Good kind of hurt, right?”

She tilted her head up, her brown eyes narrowing playfully before she smacked my chest lightly.

Momo: “Don’t get cocky. You were… a little too insatiable.”

I chuckled, but my voice was hoarse.

Y/N: “Says the one who started everything.”

Momo hummed, her fingers pressing against my ribs, her nails dragging lightly down my skin.

Momo: “Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to be that willing to please.”

I scoffed, throwing an arm over my eyes as I caught my breath.

Y/N: “What can I say? I aim to satisfy.”

She rolled her eyes, but the soft smile on her lips betrayed her amusement.

Then, she shifted slightly, her bare thigh brushing against my limp cock and i hissed at the overstimulation

She smirked.

Momo: “Oh? Sensitive now?”

I groaned.

Y/N: “Momo-noona, please.”

She grinned, clearly enjoying my wrecked state.

Despite her teasing, Momo’s touch soon turned softer, gentler.

Her fingers ghosted over my jaw before she leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss just below my ear.

Momo: “You okay?”

I exhaled, finally peeling my arm away from my face so I could look at her properly.

She looked stunning.

Flushed skin, messy hair, lips slightly swollen. Completely undone.

And yet, she was gazing at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Y/N: “I’m more than okay.”

Momo let out a breathy laugh before she snuggled closer, resting her head against my chest.

Momo: “Good. Because I like you just like this.”

I raised an eyebrow.

Y/N: “Like what?”

She grinned, her fingers now tracing lazy circles on my chest.

Momo: “Soft. Sweet. Submissive.”

I groaned, covering my face again.

Y/N: “You’re never letting that go, huh?”

Momo: “Nope.”

Her laughter vibrated against my skin, and I felt myself smile.

She was Impossible But damn, I loved her for it.

A few minutes passed, and I felt my body finally start to cool down.

Momo must have felt it too because she suddenly lifted her head and propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at me.

Her fingers brushed my hair back, soft and intimate.

Momo: “So… what now?”

I blinked, feeling the weight of the question settle between us.

She wasn’t just asking about tonight.

She was asking about us.

About what happens from here on out.

I swallowed, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of her waist.

Y/N: “I guess… we just keep going, right?”

Momo tilted her head, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Momo: “You’re really just going with the flow, huh?”

I chuckled, squeezing her hip lightly.

Y/N: “Isn’t that what got us here in the first place?”

She hummed, her eyes studying my face, as if searching for something.

Then, finally, she sighed and collapsed back onto my chest.

Momo: “Fine. But just so you know—”

Her voice lowered, sultry, teasing.

Momo: “I’m still not done with you.”

I groaned dramatically, throwing my head back.

Y/N: “Momo-noona, I need at least a day to recover.”

She laughed, the sound light, carefree, full of affection.

And in that moment, lying there in the warmth of her embrace, I knew— i wouldn't want it any other way.

------

The vending machine stared back at me.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like after it had swallowed my money twice without giving me my damn drink.

I exhaled sharply, pressing the button again. Nothing. No whirring sound. No movement.

Y/N: "You piece of—"

I smacked the side of the machine, hoping to jog it into cooperation. Still nothing

Narrowing my eyes, I cracked my knuckles.

Y/N: "Alright. You wanna do this the hard way?"

Bracing myself, I gave the machine one solid shake. A few buttons flickered, but still no drink.

A deep inhale. One more time. This time, I grabbed the sides and rocked it harder.

The machine rumbled.

Then, finally—thud.

A can rolled out and landed in the tray below.

I let out a triumphant laugh, wiping a bit of sweat from my forehead as I reached down to grab my hard-earned prize.

Y/N: "Victory."

Cracking the can open, I took a satisfying sip, the cold liquid running down my throat.

But then, just as I was about to bask in my small win, I heard it.

A soft sniffle.

I froze mid-sip, my ears straining.

It was faint, but there. A quiet, heartbreaking sound. And it was coming from the production room.

I placed my drink on the nearest ledge and approached slowly. All the staff were on break right now. So who was inside?

Another sniffle. The voice was saccharine sweet, even in pain

A feeling curled in my gut, recognition whispering at the edges of my mind.

I pushed open the door. And then i saw her.

Sana.

Sitting at the table, shoulders trembling, her face buried in her arms. Her normally bright and mischievous aura was completely gone

Her hair cascaded over her arms, strands sticking to her cheek as she sniffled again.

The soft glow from the computer screen illuminated her, making the wet sheen in her eyes more noticeable.

A bottle of soju 1/3 empty was on the table by her. She wasn’t drunk, but she’d definitely had a drink or two.

And I hadn’t seen her in a month.

Ever since that day—the day she walked in on me and Momo— she had avoided me completely. Not once had she cone in front of me. And i asked Momo about it, worried.

But Momo had waved it off, saying Sana was fine. That she was casual about it. That it was something else bothering her which was small.

But now, as I stood there watching her shake, I knew.

Momo had lied.

I hesitated at the door, debating whether to step closer.

But before I could decide, Sana’s shoulders shook harder, her quiet sniffles turning into something more fragile.

Something that cracked through my chest.

I took a step forward. Then another.

The scent of her perfume mixed with the faint trace of Soju filled the space between us.

I swallowed. And then, softly-

Y/N: "Sana-noona…?"

The moment my voice broke through the silence, Sana froze. Her breathing hitched, but she didn’t lift her head. Her hands, gripping the edge of her sleeves, clenched slightly, the fabric twisting between her fingers.

I hesitated at the doorway, my mind scrambling for the right way to approach this.

The last thing I wanted was to assume her pain was about me. It would've been presumptuous--self centered even.

Sana had her own world, her own struggles. Maybe it was something about her career. Maybe she was just exhausted.

Or maybe—

I shook my head. No assumptions. Instead, I quietly pulled out the chair across from her and sat down.

The sound of the legs scraping against the floor was the only noise in the room besides her shallow breaths.

I leaned forward slightly, resting my arms on the table as I watched her.

She still hadn’t looked up.

Y/N: "Sana-noona..."

I kept my tone gentle, patient.

Y/N: "What’s wrong?"

Nothing. Just silence. Her fingers tightened their grip on her sleeves.

Then—

A soft, wavering breath.

Slowly, Sana lifted her head. Her eyes were red, her lashes damp from tears. The usual spark in her gaze was dimmed, lost.

It was unsettling to see her like this.

Sana—the girl who was always teasing, always smiling, always finding a way to bring warmth into a room.

She looked like a candle struggling to stay lit.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to speak, but then— She faltered. Her eyes darted away, avoiding mine.

I didn't push. Instead, i just waited. And after a moment, her voice finally came— Soft. Raw. Almost hesitant.

Sana: "…Why are you even here?"

Her words weren’t sharp. It was a question without accusation. There was no bite, no anger. Just... Tiredness

I tilted my head slightly, studying her.

Y/N: "You were crying."

Her eyes flickered. I could see the brief flash of embarrassment. Like she hadn’t meant to be caught, like she was trying to gather herself before I saw too much.

Sana took a slow breath, pressing her lips together as if weighing her next words.

Sana: "You don’t have to be here."

I leaned back slightly, folding my arms.

Y/N: "I know."

A small pause. Then I added, quieter—

Y/N: "But I want to be."

Sana’s fingers twitched. Her gaze dropped to the table

For a long, neither of us spoke. The clock on the wall ticked steadily. I could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning, the distant sounds of the hallway outside.

But inside this room, it felt like we were somewhere else. Suspended. Trapped in a moment neither of us knew how to navigate.

Finally, Sana exhaled a small, humorless laugh.

Sana: "You’re really persistent, huh?"

I shrugged.

Y/N: "Not really."

Her brows lifted slightly at that. I gestured vaguely towards her.

Y/N: "I just don’t like seeing people I care about hurting."

Her fingers stilled on her sleeves. For the first time since i walked, she really looked at me.

Her lips parted slightly, eyes searching mine as if trying to find something— something she wasn’t sure she wanted to see

The Crack in the Armor

Then, softer this time—

Sana: "You care?"

There was something fragile in her voice. Something hesitant. Like she wasn’t sure she believed it.

I held her gaze, steady and unwavering. And i didn’t hesitate when i answered.

Y/N: "Of course."

Sana inhaled sharpy. Her fingers curled into her sleeves again, but this time, not as tightly.

I could see the way her shoulders trembled slightly, the way her breathing shallowed. She blinked a few time, almost as if she was trying to process something

She blinked a few times, almost as if she was trying to process something.

Then, her voice—so small, so broken

Sana: "Then why does it feel like I lost?"

My breath hitched. It was a question that cut deep.

The words settled in the air between us, heavy and unspoken for a few moments.

Sana looked away again, her jaw tightening.

I could see the way her lips pressed together, as if she was holding back more. Like if she let herself say too much, she wouldn’t be able to stop. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. I had no idea how to answer that

Because no matter how much I tried to ignore it, no matter how much I tried to push it away— i knew what she meant. And it had everything to do with me.

The silence stretched between us like an invisible thread, thin and fragile.

Sana's words still hung in the air, their weight pressing against my chest.

"Then why does it feel like I lost?"

I didn't know how to answer that.

Or maybe I did—

Maybe i just didn’t wanna say it. exhaled slowly, trying to piece together my thoughts.

But before I could even think of what to say, Sana spoke first.her voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. Like she was deciding, at this very moment, whether or not she should cross the line.

Then—

She crossed it.

Sana: "I liked you first, you know."

The words landed softly, but their impact was anything but.

I felt my breath catch. My fingers curled slightly against the table as my mind raced, trying to process what she had just said.

Sana…

She liked me first?

She tilted her head slightly, a small, almost bitter smile playing on her lips.

Sana: "I just… I thought I had time. I thought I had time to figure it out, to be sure about what I felt before doing anything about it."

She exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking her head.

Sana: "But I guess Momo didn't wait, huh?"

There was no real malice in her tone. No resentment. Just reisgnation.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry a lot. I wasn’t fully shocked. A part of me—deep, deep down—had suspected something.

The way Sana would always tease me a little more than the others. The way she’d hover just a second longer after a joke, her eyes searching mine as if waiting for something. The way her touch had always been a bit more lingering, just a bit more possessive

I wasn't dumb. But hearing it out loud? Hearing her actually say it? That was different. That made it real.

And right now— It put me in a dilemma. I had a girlfriend. I had Momo. And i was commited to her. There was no doubt about that. But How the hell was i supposed to comfort Sana now? How was i supposed to tell her that i cared? That i hated seeing her cry, without making it seem like i was giving her hope?

How was I supposed to be there for her when she was hurting because of me?

I opened my mouth, but—

Sana suddenly leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head as if forcing herself to relax.

Sana: "You don’t have to say anything, Y/N."

I blinked, caught off guard.

She let out a small breath, closing her eyes briefly before offering me a soft smile— But this time, it was different. It wasn’t bright. It wasn’t mischievous. It was hollow.

Sana: "I already know your answer."

A strange uneasiness settled in my stomach here was something about the way she said that—

Something about the way her eyes darkened for just a second before she hid it behind her usual expression— That made me feel like she wasn’t accepting defeat. That made me feel like she had a different plan. One she hadn’t told me about yet.

And for some reason— That scared me.

Sana leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly against the table. A small smirk played at the corner of her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Sana: "You know… I’ve always had my suspicions about Momo."

Her voice was steady, but I could hear the weight behind it.

I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

Her gaze flickered toward me, studying my face like she was trying to gauge my reaction before she spoke again.

Sana: "She’s never done this before, you know. Taking a trainee under her wing like that. Momo’s always been focused on TWICE—on her members. She helps them, supports them, mentors them. But never anyone outside the group. Never."

I frowned slightly. That… was true.

I knew Momo was strict when it came to dance, but she had never personally taken a trainee under her guidance. The only ones who ever received that level of attention from her were her own members.

And yet, with me— She did.

Sana: "She picked you, Y/N. She made you hers before you even knew it."

Her voice was softer now, almost contemplative.

Sana: "And that means one thing—Momo liked you long before you realized it. Long before I even realized it."

I swallowed, feeling something heavy settle in my chest.

Momo… liked me before? How long before? Had she known from the start? Has she planned this all along? No, that wasn’t it. Momo wasn’t like that. She didn’t plan things when it cones to emotions. She just felt them, embraced them and followed her heart. That's what made her Momo.

But still—

The thought that she had already set her eyes on me while I was blindly fumbling through my feelings made me feel… strange. Not in a bad way. Not in a good way. Just strange.

Like I had been walking in the dark this whole time while she had already found the light.

And Sana—

Sana had been left in the shadows.

I finally looked up at Sana again, but this time, she was already watching me. Her eyes weren’t sad anymore. They weren’t filled with resignation. They were filled with determination.

Sana: "I won’t lose."

A chill ran down my spine.

Sana: "I won’t back away, Y/N."

Her voice was gentle, but firm. Like she wasn’t saying it to challenge me. She was saying it because she had already decided.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. A part of wanted to tell her that this wasn’t a competition. That love didn’t work that wa.y

But another part of me— a part i didn’t quite understand felt something dreadful yet curious settle in my stomach

Before I could say anything, before I could even fully process what she had just declared—

She suddenly grabbed the half-empty soju bottle beside her and threw it into the trash can without a second thought. It clattered loudly against the metal, echoing in the empty production room

It clattered loudly against the metal, echoing in the empty production room.

Then, before I could react— Sana stood up. She stepped closer. And then-

She bent down slightly— And kissed my forehead. Soft. Warm. Brief. But undeniably real.

I froze. My entire body locked in place as her scent—sweet, floral, unmistakably Sana—wrapped around me.

I could feel the ghost of her lips lingering against my skin, a stark contrast to the fire that suddenly ignited in my chest.

She pulled away just as quickly as she had leaned in, her expression unreadable.

But then— a smile. Not sad. Not mischievous. Just a smile.

And then, She turned and walked away, leaving me stunned and speechless in the middle of the empty room.

The room was empty now.

Sana’s presence lingered like a phantom—her perfume still faintly hanging in the air, the soft warmth of her lips still tingling on my forehead. I hadn’t moved. I couldn’t move.

My body felt stuck in place, as if any slight motion would cause the fragile reality around me to shatter.

What the hell just happened?

This… wasn’t something I was prepared for.

Love, relationships—those things had always felt like distant fantasies, like something that happened in movies and dramas, but never in real life.

I had spent so much time chasing my dreams, working my ass off to debut, to make it in this industry. I never had the luxury of thinking about love, let alone experiencing it.

And now—

My first relationship. Not just with anyone—but with Hirai Momo of TWICE.

A woman who was admired, desired, worshiped by millions. A woman who had chosen me i still didn’t know what she saw in me, why she had reached for my hand in this crazy world of K-pop, but she had.

A woman who had chosen me.

I still didn’t know what she saw in me, why she had reached for my hand in this crazy world of K-pop, but she had.

And I had gladly let myself fall into her arms. I had commited myself to her. I was hers.

But Now… Another storm was brewing.

Minatozaki Sana.

Sana, with her bright smiles and teasing words. Sana, who had always been warm, playful, affectionate. Sana, who had watched from afar—watched as Momo took me before she even had the chance to reach out herself.

I had seen it before in the way her eyes lingered.

But now— She had said it out loud. She wasn’t going back away. She wasn’t going to lose. I could still hear her voice, soft yet deadly certain

"I won’t lose."

"I won’t back away, Y/N."

Her conviction sent a shiver down my spine.

To most people, this situation might seem like a dream. Two of TWICE's most popular members fighting over me? It sounds like something straight out of a fanfiction.

But in reality—

It was like being caught between the devil and the deep sea. No matter what happened, someone would get hurt. And that someone was most likely going to be Sana. Because no matter how much i cared about her. Now matter how much her word unsettled something inside me.

I couldn’t betray Momo. I wouldn't. She was my first everything. My first love. My first relationship. I owed her my loyalty.

But at the same time—

I couldn’t stand the thought of Sana hurting because of me. Of seeing her heart break every time she looked at me.

What Was She Planning? That's what scared me the mist. Sana had said she wouldn’t back down. She had said with such certainty, such quiet resolve. But what did that mean? What exactly was she going to do?

I had no answer. Only dread. Only God can help me now.

I sighed, finally running a hand down my face. I was in way too deep.

This wasn’t just some high school crush drama—

This was real. Real emotions. Real stakes. Real heartbreak waiting to happen.

And the worst part? There was no way out without hurting someone.

I shut my eyes, inhaling deeply, as if somehow, I could breathe away the weight in my chest.

But the moment I exhaled—

Sana’s words echoed in my mind again.

"I won’t lose."

I opened my eyes, staring at the empty room.

Only one thought filled my mind.

God, help me.

---

A few days later

JYPE Headquarters – Executive Meeting Room

The conference room was larger than you had expected, its modern interior giving off an air of professionalism and prestige. A massive oval-shaped table sat in the middle, surrounded by plush leather chairs where several executives had already taken their seats. The walls were adorned with framed platinum records and awards—a constant reminder of JYP Entertainment’s legacy.

Sitting at the head of the table was none other than Park Jin-young (JYP) himself, his expression warm as he regarded you.

JYP: "Y/N, it's good to see you again. You’ve been working hard, I hear."

You nodded, keeping your composure despite the intimidating presence of the room.

Y/N: "Yes, PD-nim. I’m always pushing myself to improve."

A few of the higher-ups chuckled, appreciating your humility. Beside JYP, Director Lee, one of the senior executives, leaned forward, tapping a pen against the table.

Director Lee: "We've been hearing great things about you, Y/N. Not just in terms of your training, but your discipline, creativity, and ability to handle pressure. That’s why we wanted to meet today—to discuss your debut."

The weight of the conversation settled in, but you had been preparing for this moment. You had spent years refining your skills, and now you were here—on the verge of stepping into the industry as a full-fledged artist.

Y/N: "I appreciate the opportunity. I want to make sure my debut is something that represents who I am, both musically and personally."

JYP nodded, clearly approving of your mindset.

JYP: "That’s exactly what we want as well. At JYPE, we’ve been making changes—ensuring that artists have a stronger voice in their creative process. We’re no longer just about safe, market-friendly concepts; we want to give you the space to express yourself authentically."

That was surprising. JYPE had been known for its structured approach to artist management, often prioritizing safe, commercial hits. To hear JYP himself acknowledge a shift in philosophy was unexpected—but also encouraging.

Director Choi, another executive, adjusted his glasses before speaking.

Director Choi: "To that end, we'd like to ask you: Would you be interested in having a hand in the production process? Not just as an artist, but as someone who helps craft the music itself."

Your eyes widened slightly. This was bigger than just selecting songs; they were offering you the chance to shape your sound from the ground up.

Y/N: "I’d love to be involved. I’ve actually been working on some sample compositions, and I think they could fit well with my debut."

The room grew interested, a few executives exchanging glances. JYP folded his hands together, his expression thoughtful.

JYP: "Do you already have an album concept in mind?"

You took a deep breath before responding.

Y/N: "Yes. I want my debut album to be called Who Is My Heart Waiting For? I know it’s not the typical title for a rookie’s first album, but I want my music to have depth from the start."

Silence settled over the room as the executives absorbed your words. It was a bold choice. Most debut albums went for something flashy, energetic, or trend-driven. Your choice was introspective—an emotional statement rather than a commercial one.

JYP was the first to respond.

JYP: "That’s... different. But I like it. It shows maturity, a willingness to break the mold."

Director Lee: "I agree. It’s rare for a rookie artist to go this route, but with the right execution, it could set you apart from the rest."

Encouraged by their reactions, you pressed forward.

Y/N: "I also have two title track ideas. The first is called Shadow. It’s about being someone’s shadow—always by their side, even when they don’t notice. It’s a love song, but with an element of longing and devotion."

JYP’s eyes lit up with interest.

JYP: "That’s a strong concept. Emotional but relatable."

Y/N: "The second track is called U ok? It’s about checking in on someone who used to be a huge part of your life, someone you still care for but are now apart from. It’s not necessarily a breakup song, but more about lingering feelings of concern and attachment.....okay, maybe it is a break up song."

There was a brief pause before Director Choi exhaled, smiling slightly.

Director Choi: "You certainly don’t go for surface-level themes, do you?"

You chuckled.

Y/N: "I want my music to have meaning. I know debut songs are usually high-energy and made for impact, but I want my impact to come from emotion, from connection."

JYP leaned back, tapping his fingers against the table.

JYP: "I trust you, Y/N. You’ve shown dedication, and I’ve always believed that artists who pour their hearts into their music find the most success. If this is what you believe in, then we’ll support it."

Relief washed over you. Having JYP’s personal approval meant everything.

Director Lee: "Do you already have melodies for these tracks?"

Y/N: "I have drafts. I can play some samples if you’d like."

JYP gestured toward the laptop connected to the meeting room’s speakers.

JYP: "Go ahead. Let’s hear what you’ve got."

You took out your USB drive, plugged it in, and navigated to your demo files. First, you played the instrumental for Shadow. A slow, atmospheric intro filled the room, followed by a steady rhythm that carried a blend of intimacy and upbeat.. The production was layered but clean, creating an immersive feeling.

As the beat kicked in, you noticed some of the executives nodding along, their expressions intrigued.

When the track ended, JYP was the first to speak.

JYP: "That’s... beautiful. It has a cinematic quality to it. I can already picture the choreography and the visual aesthetics."

Encouraged, you played U ok? next. This one had a more minimalistic production, opening with a simple synth before transitioning into a RnB rhythmic yet sentimental beat. It carried a sense of nostalgia—like a late-night conversation with someone you once loved but still vibing.

By the time the demo finished, the room was silent for a few moments.

Director Choi: "You composed these yourself?"

Y/N: "Yes. I had help refining some elements, but the core melodies and concepts are mine."

JYP smiled, his pride evident.

JYP: "You’re not just a singer, Y/N. You’re an artist. And that’s exactly what this industry needs."

You felt a swell of gratitude.

Y/N: "Thank you, PD-nim. I won’t let you down."

JYP nodded.

JYP: "We’ll move forward with these tracks as your title songs. I’ll assign a production team to help bring your vision to life, but you’ll have full creative input. You’re leading your own debut."

You exhaled, taking in the weight of his words. This was it. Your debut was finally taking shape—not as something manufactured by a company, but as an extension of yourself.

As the meeting wrapped up, JYP stood up and patted your shoulder.

JYP: "You remind me of myself when I was younger, Y/N. Keep that fire burning."

You bowed deeply.

Y/N: "I will."

As you walked out of the meeting room, a sense of purpose settled over you. You had taken your first real step toward debuting on your own terms. And no matter what happened next, you were ready.

As you stepped out of the conference room, the hum of the building’s usual activity filled the air—staff members walking briskly, trainees murmuring to one another, the distant sound of music from the practice rooms. Yet, none of it registered in your mind.

Your head was spinning, not with anxiety, but with the weight of your own choices.

JYP had just entrusted you with something massive—your own debut, on your own terms. That wasn’t something every artist got, let alone a rookie. It felt unreal, but you knew you had earned it through the endless nights of practice, through every note you perfected and every lyric you rewrote.

Still, it wasn’t just about you.

These two songs—Shadow and U ok?—were deeply personal. More than just concepts, more than just melodies. They were pieces of you, of your life, of the emotions you carried. And, most importantly, they were about two people who had shaped you in ways you hadn’t expected.

You let out a slow breath as you walked toward the elevator, your mind replaying the events that led to these songs even existing.

Internal Monologue – The Meaning of 'Shadow'

The instrumental for Shadow had come to you late at night, during one of those quiet moments where the world felt still, yet your mind was anything but.

Momo.

Your mentor. Your guide. And now, your girlfriend.

The transition from one role to the other had been unexpected, almost surreal. She had started as someone you looked up to—someone you admired not just for her talent but for her kindness, her patience, her ability to push you beyond your limits while still making sure you didn’t break under the pressure.

But somewhere along the way, admiration had turned into something deeper.

And she had noticed it first.

You still remembered the night it happened—how she had pulled you aside after practice, her eyes searching yours as if confirming what she already knew. The first sex of your life and the unsaid emotions came out as actions.

That was the moment things changed.

The confession had come naturally, like something inevitable. You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the late-night atmosphere, or the closeness you had built over months, but when she had leaned in, and your lips had met for the first time, there had been no hesitation.

And yet, a part of you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you would always exist in her shadow.

Momo was a star—established, beloved, a name that carried weight. You, on the other hand, were still rising, still struggling to carve your own space.

Would people see you as nothing more than "Momo’s boyfriend"? Would they assume your success was only because of her influence?

That was why Shadow was born.

It wasn’t about insecurity. It was about devotion. About standing beside someone without overshadowing them, about offering unwavering support, even if it meant not always being seen.

You weren’t afraid of being in Momo’s shadow.

You just wanted her to know that you would always be there—watching over her, loving her, whether the world noticed or not.

Internal Monologue – The Meaning of 'U ok?'

If Shadow was about Momo, then U ok? was about the one person you didn’t know how to face.

Sana.

The moment her name and face entered your thoughts, your chest tightened.

You had known Sana for as long as you had known Momo, but where Momo had been your mentor, Sana had been your confidant. She was the one who had made you feel at ease when you were introduced to TWICE that one time and especially closer after Momo became your mentor, the one who had always been the first to greet you with her bright smile, the one who had reassured you whenever you doubted yourself.

You thought she would be happy for you when you and Momo got together.

But then… that day happened.

The day you had walked into the production room, expecting to find it empty, only to see Sana sitting there alone with a few glasses of Soju consumption.

Her shoulders were shaking.

She was crying.

Your instinct had been to approach her, to ask what was wrong, but before you could even take a step, she had spoken of all that happened that day.

She had turned to look at you then, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The air had felt thick between you. You had no idea what to say.

Sana had always been affectionate, playful. You had thought that was just her personality. But in that moment, as she looked at you with a mix of pain and resignation, you realized how blind you had been.

She had liked you.

Maybe she hadn’t planned to confess. Maybe she had convinced herself that she was content just being close to you. But once you had chosen someone else, once you had made it official, reality had caught up with her.

And then she had said the words that haunted you.

Sana: "I’m not backing down, Y/N."

You hadn’t known what she meant by that. Even now, you weren’t sure.

Did she mean she was going to fight for you? That she wouldn’t give up, even though you were with Momo? Or did she mean something else entirely?

That was why U ok? existed.

Because you couldn’t stop wondering.

Was she okay? Was she hurting every time she saw you with Momo? Did she regret never telling you how she felt sooner?

Or was she already moving on, pretending like nothing had happened?

You didn’t know.

And the worst part?

You were too afraid to ask.

By the time you reached the rooftop, you felt like you needed air. The sky was a deep shade of blue, the city lights twinkling in the distance. The cool night breeze brushed against your skin as you leaned against the railing, your thoughts still tangled between the two women who had shaped your life in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

You took out your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you hovered over Sana’s name. Your thumb hesitated over the call button.

Y/N (thinking): What would I even say?

Would she even want to talk to you? Or would calling her now just make things worse?

Before you could decide, your phone buzzed with an incoming message.

Momo: "Hey, practice just ended. Are you free? I miss you."

A small smile tugged at your lips.

No matter how complicated things were, at least one thing was certain.

Momo was waiting for you.

And for now, that was enough.

#twice #chaeyoung #dahyun #jeongyeon #kpop #jihyo #mina #momo #nayeon #sana #tzuyu #twice smut #momo smut #twice x male reader

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