#How to choose a dance studio

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[sakuravalelp]

The Dance Academy isn't a gang- DC X DP Prompt

Inspired by this prompt

Clockwork suggests to Danny, who's been the king of the infinite realms for 6 years now, that he should take sometime off in a mortal realm. He doesn't feel like going back to his own dimension (you choose the reason), so Clockwork suggest another dimension where he thinks Danny might have fun.

Danny investigates the dimension, and finds it is a dimension where some humans, who are called meta-humans, develop powers, mostly during their childhood. Danny knows how tiring and alienating it is to grow with powers that one have to hide. He wishes to give this kids a safe space to experiment with their powers, but not as a weapon, just as part of themself.

He chooses to create a dance academy, because dancing is something in which you use your body and express yourself. It would be an excellent way to encourage this kids to use their powers while enjoying themself. He decides to open the dance academy in Gotham, were it seems metas may feel more pressure to keep themself hidden. With his ability to see and feel the differences in soul it's easy to identify metas, so he starts scouting kids for the academy.

Of course convincing the kids that it's just a a dance academy that wants to create a save space for metas, instead is of a trafficking ring, is difficult. But once he gets the first couple kids in, slowly more come too.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Bruce is worried about the new possible meta gang that it's forming on Gotham, and sends Duke undercover.

It's hasn't been long since Duke joined the bats, and this is his first official undercover mission. He's excited at the start, feeling proud that he's been trusted with an independent job, but then he finds out that the "gang" it's just a dance academy. He's a little disappointed, thinking that this job is more of a probation thing than anything, since there isn't anything suspicious.

The bats tell him to stay in the dance academy, because maybe the dance thing is just a cover up and they'll reveal their real motives when he's actually accepted in the group. And Duke takes it as them wanting him to have a meta support system. See? He's learning to understand how the bats show love to each other!

Duke finds himself enjoying being in a dance group. It's a lot of fun. Danny it's fantastic, he has a lot of powers and isn't scare to show them. Which makes everyone in the group feel so much safer to use their own.

Danny encourages them to integrate their powers in their dance. It's freeing. Their powers are treated as a normal part of them, and not as this exotic ability that has to be controlled. It's such a safe space that all of them have gotten used to using their powers for day to day stuff when in the dance studio. It all feels so casual because no one bats an eye to it. There's no talk about how they should try to do things "normally," or limit their use of their power.

Danny: "Why would you? That's your normal, and this place is safe for you to just be you."

Duke realizes a bit late that the bats were actually suspicious of the group, and that his placement there wasn't really a probation. He's glad to know he was actually trusted with a job, but, he had really thought that every time they had asked about his day with the group was because they were interested in how he was doing. That they were showing love and interest in him in that evasive ways the bats did, and it kinda suck to know it wasn't the case. It also meant that he had to confront their family in their clear meta-discrimination.

"Would you have been so suspicious if it wasn't a meta group? No. Other than them all being metas there wasn't anything off. No proof of fights, no proof of robberies, no proof of trafficking, nothing.

There's no proof of anything other than a group of teens dancing, and you know that because you checked it out before sending me.

Like, I don't blame you for checking it, I'm not naive, but you were so sure it was a gang, just because they were metas. That's fucked up guys."

[mattsangel]

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 (𝒏𝒐𝒕) 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚 | 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉… you slowly start avoiding being home and your boyfriend notices, resulting in an argument.

ballerina!reader x undergroundfighter!matt, angst, crying, cursing, fighting, mention of violence, lowkey toxic matt

2.7k words

“when are you coming home?” , “are you back yet?” , “it’s getting late, where are you?” , the three questions that you heard the most coming from matt. you didn’t know if he was asking them out of genuine concern or just to be the controlling boyfriend he had become, although you tend to think it was the second option. he wasn’t like this when you met him, when you fell in love with him. but the once loving and thoughtful boyfriend that he was had vanished some months ago.

youtube wasn’t paying nearly as much as it used to for matt and his triplet brothers, their prime time was long gone and their audience had moved on to the next big thing, leaving them with no choice but finding a side hustle to get by. while chris and nick had found some decently normal jobs, chris working for a music production company while nick found a photography gig, matt had had a harder time finding a job. nothing seemed fitting enough for him, going from modeling to graphic designing for video games he couldn’t seem to find the right fit for him.

you supported him through the whole process, using your free time between college and rehearsals to help him look at thousands of job offers online. your earnings as a dancer and matt’s savings couldn’t support you guys forever, and you both knew that. it wasn’t long before matt got frustrated and abandoned his quest for work, choosing to go for something a little more easy. and illegal.

on a random friday night a few months ago matt had come home late, with busted knuckles and a slight cut on the top of his lip. he kept insisting that he was fine, to stop asking questions, until he snapped at you to leave him alone and stop being pushy about it. the next day, the two of you got into an argument, then matt finally admitted to have turned to underground fighting at a nearby private club.

you tried your best to reason with him, telling him he didn’t have to put his life on the line to keep you guys afloat with money, that you could manage to get more opportunities for bigger ballet productions and get a better earning or that he could simply find a safer job. he didn’t want to hear any of it though, his decision was final and you couldn’t do anything to change his mind.

at first, matt just seemed exhausted and in pain every time he’d come home. you did your best to try and support him, taking care of him when he got home and doing everything in the house to ease his mind. the more time passed, the more matt came home with an attitude, cursing at you and getting mad at the slightest thing being off, on top of that he had started drinking. his constant yelling and controlling behavior is what drove a ledge between you two, and it wasn’t long until you couldn’t take it anymore.

late night dance practices became an almost daily thing. you did not want to be home. from the moment your classes ended, until late at night you’d be at the dance studio. the older, cold lady that had been teaching you ballet for the better part of your life took a notice in how often you’d stay late, in an empty studio either dancing, rehearsing or doing your homework, pointes, sewing kit and textbooks splattered everywhere across the floor. one night she finally decided to ask you about it, and after explaining to her that things at home haven’t been easy, she took it upon herself to always reserve an empty studio for you to hang out in for as long as you needed. that place easily became your new safe place, and you were barely ever home anymore. 

it took matt a lot longer than you wished it would to realize that you weren’t ever really around anymore. it was almost always past ten pm when you’d walk in, careful to not make much noise and tiptoeing to your guys' shared room. you’d put your things down and take a shower, heading straight to bed and avoiding any attempt at small talk that matt would make, knowing it almost always ended with him getting pissed. he was rarely mad at you, but whatever it was that ticked him off, he’d take it out on you. the nights that you were home before him, you’d already be fast asleep when he walked through the door.

for the first few months, he did believe your countless excuses; that you just got more busy on a production, that you stayed at the library late to study for exams, that your instructor made you stay at the studio longer, but the more time passed, the less he believed you.

it was monday night and for the first time in what felt like forever, matt was seated at the kitchen table with two plates of food when you walked in. it took you a minute to process, but when you did look up at his face a sudden gasp left your mouth. his white tee was covered in platters of blood and dirt, his lip was bleeding and a black eye was starting to form on his left eye. he looked worse than you’d ever seen him.

you took a step toward the table, walking slowly not daring to look him in the eye.

matt cleared his throat, “you never answered my text.”

you finally look up, almost shocked that he spoke this softly to you. “sorry, they had me stay a bit longer at the studio”, the lie rolled off your tongue easily.

he nodded slowly, “right”, he paused for a second, “they have you doing this a lot lately.”

you wondered where he was going with this, but chose to answer short, not wanting this conversation to go where all the others before went, “i got a role in a pretty big production, i have to put in a little more work to keep it”. that wasn’t a total lie, you did score a leading role in the swan lake production taking place at the local studio next spring and there was a lot of work to put in.

“you didn’t tell me that”, matt said, “i don’t know why i’m surprised, you never tell me anything anymore”.

a frown takes over your face, “that’s not-”

matt suddenly interrupts you, “it is true. don’t play dumb”, you can tell he’s getting agitated, “you’ve been avoiding being home, or anywhere near me like the plague, y/n.”

you shake your head, not really knowing how to answer because you know that he’s right. you’ve been doing everything in your power to avoid him, not because you don’t love him, but because you don’t love who he’s become. the short-tempered, always angry at everything matt that sat in front of you was not the same matt that you knew and loved. he felt like a stranger.

you chose to sit down in the chair opposite of him, not sure how to approach the conversation that you knew was necessary to have, “i don’t want to argue, matt.”

he huffs, shaking his head lightly, “i just want to know why you’re never home. we haven’t spent time together in months, hell i can’t even remember the last time we fucked, not that it matters.”

you swallow hard. “you’ve changed matt, and i don’t want to blame it all on you but i can’t recognize you anymore,” you let out a shaky breath, tucking some hair behind your ear, “you’re always getting mad, raising your voice at me for no reason. you know i can’t handle the yelling.”

matt looks down at his lap for a split second, “i know i’ve been loosing my temper lately, but this can’t be the only reason why you spend all of your time away,” his blue eyes fixates on you, “is there someone else?”

the gasp that leaves your mouth is loud. you can’t believe that he’d think you’d have met someone else. 

“no, god no. there is no one else, i promise matt,” you look up at him, “i can’t bear the constant being mad and fighting. every time i come home, you’re moody and hurt, i can’t handle that.”

you feel the tears start to gather in your eyes, and try to blink them away but there’s no use. you feel your face getting hot and your hands are sweating, this conversation might’ve been needed but it doesn’t mean you’re enjoying it.

“being hurt is part of my job, y/n. i can’t prevent it from happening and i can’t stop fighting,” matt says, his voice raising slightly, “the money is good and i’m doing this for us, you have to understand that.”

this has you getting up from your chair, “don’t put this on us matt. you had a choice, you could’ve worked a normal job, but you chose to put yourself in this position,” you pause, taking a deep breath, “and i don’t care if you make millions, no amount of money is worth your life.”

“i don’t know in what kind of fairytale you think we’re in, but believe it or not, we need money to keep having a roof over our heads and food on the table.” matt is still sitting, in an almost nonchalant matter.

this sets you off, because if there is one person here that is painfully aware of this, its you. within  seconds you're out of the kitchen, speed walking towards your guy’s shared bedroom. in a hurry, you grab your baby pink duffel bag from the closet and throw it on the bed. your grabbing whatever clothes you have in sight, as well as your cosmetics bag and your charger. by the time you’re going over to the bathroom to grab more stuff, matt waltzes in.

“what are you even doing with that?” he says looking around at the mess you’re making, grabbing and shoving everything you can fit in your bag.

you spin to face him, your hair whipping him in the chest, “i can’t do this anymore,’ you say brokenly, “i can’t keep watching you get hurt and taking it out on me anymore.”

his face soften slightly, “angel, come on don’t do this,” he reaches towards you but you step back, not feeling strong enough to have him close. “where are you even planning to go, uh?”

tears of rage starts going down your cheeks rapidly, your hands are slightly shaking because he does have a point, you have nowhere to go. your family lives hours away and you wouldn’t know who else to turn to. and he knows it.

“i’ll figure it out.” you let out harshly, pushing past him towards the bathroom.

matt follows in tow, almost desperate to have you stay, “you can’t leave, y/n.”

you keep grabbing things from the vanity, not daring to look at him knowing it’ll make you even more emotional, “why, uh? i can’t keep living like this, i feel like a disturbance in my own house,” you keep going, “everything i say ticks you off, you’re always raising your voice and belittling me.”

at that, he stays silent. “you’re never affectionate with me anymore. you don’t pay attention to me, we don’t even act like a couple anymore.” you wipe your cheeks, “you’re always in pain, i know it’s uncomfortable but you don’t even let me help. you just tell me to leave you alone. it’s killing me, matt.”

“is this really how i make you feel?” matt whispers quietly.

you finally turn to look at him not expecting to see his glassy eyes and a pained expression forming across his face, as if he’s been stabbed in the chest. he’s holding his breath waiting for your answer, already knowing it.

“yes,” you say in a small voice, leaning against the marble counter.

suddenly, matt turns around, muttering a barely audible sorry and leaves. seconds later you hear the front door close and his car speeding out of the driveway. sliding down the wall to the cold tiles of the bathroom, you let out a sob that you didn’t know you were holding. 

you stay there for what feels like hours, just sobbing with your face in your hands, still clad in your light pink leotard and a pair of grey joggers, sitting on the cold floor. after a while, exhaustion takes over and you slump over, falling asleep.

you feel yourself getting lifted up, causing you to stir and rub your eyes. “matt?” you ask, visibly confused.

“shh, go back to sleep,” matt says, dropping a kiss on your forehead and setting you on the clean bed and putting the covers over you.

you sit up, “where did you go?” you take a good look at him, he’s definitely not wearing the blood splattered shirt from earlier and his face is cleaned up, making him look a bit less disheveled.

matt sits on the edge of the bed, taking your duffel bag from earlier and putting it on the floor, “i went to see nick and chris. i needed their advice.”

this peaks your interest, “advice on what?”

“on how to make you stay.” he’s looking at you with so much purpose, “i’ll put in the effort, i’ll go back to therapy and learn how to deal with my emotions, but you can’t leave me.”

suddenly it hits you. you see a glimpse of the matt you’ve been missing. the matt you fell in love with.

without leaving you any time to speak, he continues, “i’ve been the worst boyfriend ever lately, but i promise, i’ll keep myself in check and i’ll fix this. just please, give me the chance to do it.”

he hesitantly put his tattooed hand on your thigh, and for the first time in months, you feel relaxed because you know that he meant every word he just said.

“you can’t let it get this bad again matt,” you cover his hand with yours, “love is not easy, we both know it, but you have to let me be there for you.”

he nods fast, “i know. i was just in so much pain, and it made me feel weak because i see you suffer every day, dancing until your feet are bleeding and your ankles ache and you never complain.”

“you can’t compare yourself to me, baby,” you lift yourself on your knees, passing a hand through his dark hair, “and you can’t keep me from taking care of you. that’s what i’m here for.”

he puts a gentle hand on your cheek, caressing it tenderly before speaking up, “i’m so sorry for treating you like this my love. i hate myself for making you feel this awful.”

you lean in, pressing a sweet kiss to his plump lips and leaning back to look into his eyes, “i know you matt. i know this wasn’t intentional.”

“i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” he tugs you onto his lap, hugging you to his chest and letting out a breath of relief.

the two of you stay like this for a while, bathing in each other’s embrace until matt speaks up again, “congrats on that big production, baby.”

a huge smile takes over your face, “you won’t even believe what it is.”

his eyebrows shoot up, “what is it?”

your eyes are sparkling as you tell him that you’ll be performing as the lead in swan lake for all of next spring.

“no way,” he shakes his head, smiling at you like a fool, “this is huge, you’re a star.”

you tackle him onto the bed, smiling and being so happy to have your matt back.

© mattsangel

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆; this lowkey sucks, i’m just getting back into writing fics as i was previously writing on wattpad! i really hope you guys like this one, let me know if we want more of ballerina!reader, i love writing her as i am myself a ballet dancer and it feeds my delusions lol. don’t forget to leave some suggestions for either blurbs, headcanons or oneshots in my asks! love you all x

[heartseungs-archive]

dance to this | l.hc

word count: 3.8k | genre: dancer! haechan x dancer! reader, university au, slight enemies to lovers | warnings: none

Donghyuck is an ace. He knows this from the way Taeyong chooses him to be the centre of too many of their performances, and the way too many of his clips have gone viral online.

Donghyuck is annoying. He knows this from the way Doyoung groans in exasperation at every one of his stupid pranks, or when Mark finally loses his patience and shouts across the room at the top of his voice.

But above all of that, Donghyuck is very, very competitive. He doesn’t make it obvious, but the need to win is always simmering beneath the surface, especially for the things that matter. He knows this because you are always there, in his peripheral vision, reminding Donghyuck that he needs to be better than you.

You’re an ace too, even if Donghyuck doesn’t want to admit it. The entirety of the Yonsei male student population is likely in love with you and has posters hung up in their room. You’re also annoying, or at least Donghyuck thinks so. He’s sure the rest of the team would disagree, but you’ve got them wrapped around your finger.

“I’m not partnering with someone who can’t even moonwalk properly,” he bites, and you glare back at him.

“Says the one who tore his jeans at rehearsal last year trying to do a split.”

“That was just because the jeans were too tight. I assure you I am fully capable of doing a split.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see it then. See, you’re hesitating-”

“Guys! For the love of God, can the two of you cut it out? It’s like I’m dealing with two toddlers.” Taeyong stands in front of you and Donghyuck, looking frazzled as always. Next to him is Karina, who simply rolls her eyes. Taeyong is no stranger to you and Donghyuck bickering at all hours of the day, but he’s especially tired with the upcoming recital. For that sole reason, the both of you fall silent like sullen children, looking at him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, and Taeyong smiles gently at you.

“It’s fine. We just really need this performance to go well, okay? And the both of you doing a duet will garner the most attention.”

Donghyuck sends a pointed look to Karina, who nods in assent. He sighs dramatically, enough for you to cast a sharp glance over. The dance studio is empty save for the four of them, everyone else not yet here. “Okay.”

“Me too. I’m in if Donghyuck cooperates,” you reply, and Taeyong breaks out in the most brilliant smile you’ve ever seen, lighting up his entire face.

“What do you mean if I cooperate? You’re literally the most argumentative person I’ve ever met-”

Taeyong's smile quickly disappears.

However, Karina puts a hand on the small of his back, guiding him out of the room, and the door slamming shut cuts Donghyuck’s spiel short. Just before you can send another jab Donghyuck’s way, however, Mark and Jaehyun come in, while Ningning and Giselle follow quickly after.

It’s time for practice, and you suppose there’s another thing Donghyuck can add to the list. That the both of you are professional enough to keep the childish comments outside of your actual work, and you suppose it’s the only reason Karina hasn’t bought duct tape to forcibly mute the both of you yet.

You’re sitting on the floor, out of breath and with a light sheen of sweat on your face when Donghyuck’s performance starts. Well, it’s a team performance, really, but your eyes are always on him. Compared to the majority of his audience, though, your gaze is always assessing, not admiring. His dynamics, control, sharpness, everything. You sear his image into your brain, just to compare it to your own movements in the mirror later.

Still, there’s a fluidity to Donghyuck that you’ve never been able to replicate perfectly, as much as you try. It’s something so distinct to him, the way he moves across the floor like he’s walking on water. It takes your breath away, but you’ll never tell him that. Just like how he’ll never admit that you’re much better than him at capturing details in dances, and the way you do it makes standing out effortless.

The way your sharp eyes follow Donghyuck as he moves seamlessly across the room makes him weirdly determined to make this the best performance yet. Your presence is a source of pressure, but Donghyuck performs well under pressure anyways.

The sky is quickly turning a midnight blue when Taeyong calls an end to the practice, and everyone’s made a temporary home on the wooden floor of the dance studio. It’s a familiar and comforting sight, seeing some of them on their phones, others lying on the couch, or going through their routines in the corner.

This is what makes up Donghyuck’s world. The four walls of the dance studio. Of course, he supposes his degree in Business is one integral part of his life, but it’s so much less exciting for him. Donghyuck derives an enormous amount of exhilaration from every minute, every second that he’s on the stage, spotlight shining.

He’s one of the last to leave, waving to Taeyong and Karina who give him a cursory greeting in return. They work so much harder than the rest of the team to perfect the formations, and Donghyuck’s sure that they’re both bound to get together at some point. He’s never seen two people more similar.

Other than you and him, maybe.

That’s the exact thought running through his head as he strolls past the exit of the building and turns a corner to the familiar alleyway. You’re leaning under a streetlight, phone in hand and earbuds plugged in. Your features are delicate, and the blue glare of the phone reflects off your face.

Besides being annoyingly talented and competitive, Donghyuck is also in love with you.

There was a time when he genuinely disliked you. Three years ago, when he couldn’t understand why someone new was being accepted into the dance team and was sharing the position of centre with him. If he looked back now, the Donghyuck back then would seem so very immature, nothing more than a boy afraid of being replaced.

It took him a while to realise that he didn’t mind. Enjoyed it, actually. The fact that someone else understood the burden of being under the spotlight, the responsibility of heightening the team’s energy and bringing out the very soul of the performance. You were also immensely capable and pushed Donghyuck to do better. Be better.

Somewhere along the line, dislike changed into grudging admiration, to a tentative friendship, and then into butterflies that fluttered wildly in Donghyuck’s stomach every time you looked at him.

And then one night, all it took was a few too many bottles of soju and the empty dance studio for him to take that very final leap. The both of you had stumbled out of the arts faculty building afterwards, tipsy and giggling. It’s still one of Donghyuck’s favourite memories that he has of you, clinging onto him and refusing to go into your dorm building.

There are very few feelings that surpass the pride that Donghyuck feels when he finishes a routine perfectly. However, one of them is the feeling of your lips on his. The other is the way you look when you wake in the morning, eyes half-lidded and hair messy.

And of course, like some cliche trope, the both of you had not yet told the rest of the team of these… not-so-recent developments. And the longer you went, the easier it was to just pretend there was no real need to tell them. After all, it’s not like you and Donghyuck didn’t argue anymore, if not made obvious by the events of the afternoon.  It was just that the bickering was now purely for entertainment, and the both of you acted much sappier to make up for it when no one was watching.

There was a fear that the knowledge would just bewilder most of them, considering the fact that they thought the both of you disliked each other vehemently. Karina also did mention that workplace relationships were strictly not allowed, even though she technically had no right if 1. none of you were on her payroll and 2. she had the biggest crush on Taeyong.

“Hey there,” Donghyuck says, smiling, as he grabs an earbud and places it in his other ear so that he can still hear anything you say clearly.

“Hello. Tired?” You ask as you interlace your fingers with his, but not before casting a quick glance around your surroundings. He shakes his head, and the both of you remain in a comfortable silence until you’re seated comfortably in his car with the heater on at full blast. It’s the middle of winter, and as much as you enjoy the snow, the chill also gets bone-deep. You grab the blanket from its familiar spot in the back of the car, tugging it over your legs.

Donghyuck’s apartment is far enough from campus to not be crowded, but it’s not so isolated that it’s inconvenient. You find yourself spending a lot more time at his apartment these days, so much that you almost have an entire shelf in the closet that stores your clothes.

“You should move in,” he had said one day, after the both of you finished a movie. You definitely wouldn’t mind. After all, living with Donghyuck would be comfortable. He did have a tendency to scatter his clothes all over the room, but he was mostly tidy. He also didn’t mind doing the dishes, and the only real problem you would have would be him singing at the top of his voice at all hours of the day. Even that was more enjoyable than annoying.

“How can I move in if you have the guys over almost every week to game? We’d get found out in no time,” you replied from where you were standing at the fridge, and Donghyuck muttered something like we can just tell them, then, but you were unsure if you had heard him right.

“Did you say something?” You asked, looking at him expectantly. However, Donghyuck didn’t say anything, instead smiling at you, and you tried to hide the disappointment that welled up in you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Donghyuck’s question jolts you out of your recollections, and you shake your head. His hand is interlocked with yours and rests gently on your lap, even though you’ve told him before that he should try to keep both hands on the wheel. However, the roads are deserted this time of night, so you suppose you’ll let him have his way.

The moment you enter his house, you’re quick to collapse on his couch and close your eyes, but you’re immediately dragged off. “Ouch,” you mutter when you land unceremoniously on the carpet, but Donghyuck just grins. “You need to shower, and so do I. Unless you want to sleep on the couch tonight.”

“The both of us know you would be the one sleeping on the couch anyways,” you retort, and Donghyuck just rolls his eyes before he passes you a towel and extra clothes. His sweatpants, and a band tee that's a little too small on him.

You have five sets of your own clothing folded neatly on the second shelf of his closet on the right. Even then, you take his.

An hour later, you’re scrolling on your phone when Donghyuck comes out of the bathroom, towel round his neck. He’s quick to make his way over to the couch, and you move your phone out of the way before he can accidentally knock it over.

“You big baby,” you scold half-heartedly as he sprawls over you, legs tangled with yours. He hums contentedly from where his face is nestled into your shoulder, and you try not to smile.

“Donghyuck.”

“Hm?” He places a soft kiss on your neck, and your fingers fiddle with his hair. It’s getting longer, you realise, since the last time you cut it for him. It had taken a few too many video tutorials, but you were getting better at it. Not that a bad haircut would ruin Donghyuck’s looks anyways. However, when your first attempt had not been so ideal, he had taken it upon himself to be your personal make-up artist. Your relationship with Donghyuck has always been like that. Push-for-pull. Neither of you is the kind of person to back down, but you suppose that’s what makes being with him so exciting.

“Can you make me ramen?” You can feel it when Donghyuck huffs, and he raises his head to look at you. “Is that all I’m good for? I feel like I’m a personal chef instead of your boyfriend.”

You nod, making your expression as serious and earnest as possible. Still, he gives in and gets up, making his way over to the kitchen. You’re quick to follow him, however, grabbing everything he needs. It’s a routine at this point. You’re in charge of ingredients, Donghyuck overseeing cooking.

You grab a vinyl from the tall shelf next to the television, placing it gently into the gramophone. This is one of Donghyuck’s favourite records, and you find yourself humming to it as well as the music filters gently out. You remember his expression of awe when he had opened your present on his birthday.

“Y/N, you didn’t.”

“I did. You can’t possibly have that many records and no gramophone to play them.”

“But this is so expensive.”

“It was just a bunch of extra shifts at the cafe,” had been your nonchalant reply, and Donghyuck’s eyes were soft when he looked up at you, almost glistening. The both of you were seated on the floor, the cake half-eaten on Donghyuck's table that both functioned as a study area and a place to eat.

“Thank you, Y/N. But,” Donghyuck leans over, until he’s barely centimetres from you. His lips are next to your ear, and you can hear your breath hitch.

“I’ll get you an even better present next year. You know me. I can’t lose.” His grin is full of mirth now, and you scoff.

“Even for this?”

“Even for this.”

“It’s still in such good condition,” you mumble to yourself as your fingers brush over the lacquered wood.

“Of course it is. You gave it to me.” You didn’t realize Donghyuck had heard you, but his comment causes your heartbeat to speed up just slightly. The pot is simmering gently on the stove, and Donghyuck turns to look at you. Here, away from the glaring fluorescent lights of the studio, is your favourite version of Donghyuck. Not the dance team’s ace, the mini campus celebrity, but your Donghyuck.

Of course, you love the other versions of him too. But this, the Donghyuck standing under his kitchen lights with grey sweatpants and messy hair, is a sight that belongs to you and you only. And god forbid that he's not the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life.

You make your way over to him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Donghyuck isn’t that much taller than you, but in close proximity, he still cranes his neck down to meet your gaze directly. His arms wrap around your waist instinctively, and you can feel the warmth that radiates from his palms through the thin shirt you’re wearing.

“What’s with the sudden affection?” He asks, and you lean into his chest, eyes closed. “Nothing. I just like you. A lot.” The way his chest rumbles slightly tells you that he’s trying to hide a chuckle, but you know Donghyuck enjoys the sweet words, even if he teases you about it.

“Dance with me.” It’s an odd request, considering the both of you are tired out from practice, but you nod, and Donghyuck smiles.

“Wait, but the music. Shouldn’t we change it?”

“No, it’s fine. We can just dance to this.”

Donghyuck pulls you away from the stove and nearer to the couch, where there’s open space. It’s less dancing, and more of a poorly-imitated ballroom waltz. The both of you had only taken one waltz lesson during the team's annual retreat, when Taeyong had thought it a good idea to ‘diversify genres’. However, after Jaehyun had narrowly avoided crashing into a glass display and Chenle caused the team to receive a noise complaint, you suppose Taeyong had scrapped any further ideas of forcing everyone to take mandatory lessons.

It was memorable to you for an entirely different reason, however. It was the first time you began to see Donghyuck in a different light, being forced to partner with him for all three days. The both of you had quickly resolved to outdo everyone else, kickstarting a temporary truce which spiralled to well…this.

Donghyuck’s arms gently circle around your waist as the both of you take light footsteps from one end of the living room to the other. You’ve always found it easy to sync with him, and you’re guessing it just boils down to natural chemistry. That, and the fact that you’re so familiar with the way Donghyuck moves from watching him dance day in and day out.

There was a fascination with university that everyone else had, that you often failed to grasp. It had just seemed like a natural progression, rather than a hard-earned escape to a utopian place where you were an adult free to do what you wanted. The past three years had been some of the best in your life, mainly owing to the fact that you had a major you enjoyed and a dance team that simultaneously functioned as your closest group of friends.

You realise that Donghyuck has been present for its entirety. He had been there when you were accepted to the dance team, and then made centre alongside him a year later. He had been there when you did your first showcase and solo act, running down from the stage breathless afterwards. When you got your first injury, he was the one who told Taeyong for you, and convinced him that you could still fill the role with enough rest. Donghyuck was the one who found you crying in the studio when you got a failing grade on one of your exams, and who sat with you silently until your eyes were no longer red.

There’s only one year until you graduate, but Donghyuck’s presence in your life is as constant as the air you need to breathe.

It was easy to say farewell to your friends from high school, with an easy promise to maintain contact. But it’s so very different with Donghyuck, who fills up every crevice of your life effortlessly with his little habits.

You had wondered if you had fallen too fast for Donghyuck. After all, the change from rivals to friends to romantic feelings had been alarming, because you could rarely think straight when it came to him. Yet, looking at him now, you’re convinced that you want to spend as much time with Donghyuck as possible, before the worries of adulthood start creeping in.

Call it young ambition, but something about Donghyuck just makes you want to take chances. To let loose and live a little easier. Maybe it’s because he’s able to make you happy with the simplest things, and he’s so easy to love. Which is why you suppose you can finally make a decision, even though your heart has probably been silently waiting to say yes.

“If I move in, I want counter space. And also half of the closet space. And you have to promise to not scatter your clothes around our room,” you say, so abruptly that Donghyuck stops moving entirely, and you have to pause to prevent yourself from tripping over his feet. He bends down, until he’s eye level with you. His eyes are hopeful, questioning, as if he’s not entirely believing of what you’re implying.

“You’re not kidding, right?” It’s so easy for a smile to make its way onto your face, as you shake your head and Donghyuck’s grip on your waist gets a little bit tighter.

“You’ll get all the counter space you want. I’ll even let you bring your stupid potted plants.” Your nose scrunches at his remark, and Donghyuck has to stop himself from cooing at your expression.

“For the record, I think my potted plants are adorable. And once I bring them here, they’ll be yours too. So don’t speak of our potted plants that way.”

Ours. Donghyuck thinks he likes the sound of that.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

A week later, you’re standing outside the dance studio with Donghyuck, when you grab his hand. He looks down sharply at you, mouthing a ‘what?’, and then angling his chin urgently back in the direction of the studio. However, you just flash a grin at him. “Open the door, Donghyuck. We’re already late.” He narrows his eyes, but the playful grin tugging on his mouth shows that he already understands what you’re aiming at.

When the both of you walk in, there’s a mixed range of reactions. There’s Jisung and Shotaro, whose mouths are wide open. Doyoung and Mark’s eyebrows are raised, but they don’t show any other expression. Ningning, Renjun and Chenle are in a corner, knowing smiles on their faces. Taeyong and Karina just look like they’ve always known, and are honestly more miffed at the lack of punctuality from the both of you.

“I think Karina’s going to kill us for breaking her no relationships rule,” Donghyuck mutters worriedly in your ear.

“If you forget, I’m her favourite child. I think she’s more likely to murder you for getting with me,” you respond sweetly, and Donghyuck simply stares, speechless, as you let go and walk over to where Giselle and Winter are warming up. He scoffs, shaking his head, and walks over to Jaemin and Jeno, who are already ready to tease him for being a lovesick fool.

The four walls of the dance studio make up so much of Donghyuck’s life, but so do you.

[itstheghostofmypast]

Awake - (Hyung Line)

separate members Ateez x (F)Reader

Summary: You went to sleep after a HUGE (not really) fight, only, when you went to sleep you were alone, not in the comforting arms of your lover.

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4.2k

Est.Read Time: 21 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

Maknae Line: Here

A/N: A special thank you to my one and only @edenesth , for helping me out with this- I swear for the life in me Yeosang still confuses me and Hwa seems to sweet to argue with (yeah i know that aint true) .I'll be updating my requests soon and uploading the next chapter of meow soon, too!

Kim Hongjoong

Waking up next to Hongjoong was as rare as going to bed with him. Considering he'd come to bed at an ungodly hour, unlike you, and leave at an ungodly hour, waking up way before you did- in theory, however, the man barely slept four hours. Then there were times when he'd choose to stay at the studio or the dorm. So often, you'd receive a text about his location and that was it- and for so long it was okay- until it wasn't. 

There's no real reason or premise behind how it started, but all she remembers is that he had come home in the middle of the night, and ironically she had been watching a film at the time. Now, the reaction could've been sweet, could've been filled with love, but the words had left her sooner than she could stop them, 

"You know, you should really take care of yourself too."

That was all it took for him to stare at her blankly before turning around and slamming the door shut behind him, leaving her wincing in regret on the couch, the same very couch she had cried on, lying across its expanse, trying to get in touch with him through text or call, only for her tears to dry up and eyes to close, falling asleep on the couch.

What you did not expect was to wake up in your bed, on your back blinking up at the ceiling, shades of golden seeping through the cracks of the curtains, illuminating the dancing specs across the room. With a heavy sigh you turned your head to glance at the usual empty side  when you were greeted by an unusual sight. The same blonde man you had cried your heart out for last night was laying there, knocked out cold, lips slightly parted, hands folded on his belly as he lay on his back- Hongjoong was one weird dude. With a sigh you turn to lay on your side, staring at him, taking in his tired features, the dark circles under his eyes, his chapped lips, the way his brows were slightly furrowed. God, you definitely loved an idiot.

Taking a few more minutes, you thought to yourself, before letting out a sigh, at least he was home now, at least he was resting. With that in mind, you slowly pushed yourself up, sitting up and rubbing your face, trying to erase the remnant traces of sleep. You were about to slip out of bed when something tugged at your shirt, causing you to turn to lock eyes with your sleepy love, his gaze filled with some form of remorse and guilt.

“Don't…go.” his hoarse voice rasped across the silent room, her shoulder slumped at the fatigue in his tone, before shaking her head and moving closer to him, letting him pull her closer, enough for her to rest her head against his shoulder, a hand placed on his heart, appreciating the steady beat- his own rhythm for her. 

“I’m sorry…”

“You should be.” she mumbled, turning to bury her face in the crook of his neck, feeling him draw her closer, the arm around her waist tightening, as if he were afraid that she’d disappear. Not a word was exchanged after that, her lips would often gently graze against his warm skin, curling into a small smile when she’d hear him let out a sigh, her leg now hooked around his, basically tangled around him. He never pushed her away or told her to stop, even when her hand slipped into his shirt, fingers tracing his warm skin, trying to feel him against her, as if she were trying to become one with him. He may not prefer skinship or let anyone else touch him, but she was the exception, she held the key to his heart, to his soul, giving her the free access of a more compliant and vulnerable Hongjoong, who was no longer a captain, but a boy who loved music, and she was but his muse, his inspiration, the rhythm his heart would dance to.

Park Seonghwa

Did she mean to forget it? No. Did she forget it? Yes. Was she sorry about it? Yes. But was she going to accept his berating and taunting? Not at all. She knew he was tired and exhausted, she knew being an idol wasn’t easy, it was a job accompanied with constant stress and fatigue-  you knew what you were getting yourself into, but so did he. He knew you were a full eight to six job, a busy job, a hectic job, and that wasn’t accompanied with a driver or a manager or any other kind of comfort, no you had no one to lean on when it came to someone messing up and expecting you to clean up after them. 

So, is it your fault that you came home all tired and exhausted to the bone, only to flop down on the couch, next to your boyfriend- who by the way did not even bother greeting you- and expect him to show you some compassion? Apparently, it was. Your head lay on the backrest of the couch, the TV acting like a white noise as your turned your head, eyes drowsy and tired to look at the magnificent being fate had paired you up with, someone so loving and caring, so endearing and tender, so pretty and- 

“Did you vacuum today?”

“What?” sitting up properly she looked at the not so loving man, god, how could someone so pretty be so weird sometimes- oh shit. Shaking your head you cleared your throat, “Well umm…I know…I told you I’d do it today since I had to go later to work but I…kinda forgot? Plus you did clean yesterday so the house is pretty clean?” trailing off you averted your gaze, trying not to meet eyes with the man who looked borderline distraught and disappointed. 

“Tch…this is why your mom got mad at you last week.” he mumbled and stood up, walking away, perhaps to the kitchen to get the stupid vacuum cleaner- no, he did not just bring that up! You sat there, too stunned to react, what may have seemed like a minute was perhaps more, especially when you felt something nudge at your feet, causing you to look up wide eyed at the source of hurt, staring up at him with blurry eyes.

Crying?

His eyes widened at the realisation, she had not been sitting there all stubborn while he was vacuuming, no, she was sitting there, crying, too shocked to even notice she was crying- the hell did he just do? He felt his fingers twitch, tongue poking out to lick his lower lip, an apology and more at the tip of his tongue, but before he could say anything, you were gone, the bedroom door slamming shut causing him to jerk back into his senses, running after you, trying to open the door, only to find it locked.

“Angel? Open- I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” he called out, all anger and dominance, instantly flushed out of his being, wanting nothing more than to cradle her in his embrace, trying to hold onto her crumbling pieces. He mentally cursed himself, knowing damn well how your mother’s visit last week ended poorly, an evening that was going great, until his future mother in law found out that he did most of the cleaning, which led you to receive an earful about the duties of a true, good wife.

You don’t remember much of what happened after, you had showered, cried during the shower, changed into something comfortable and snuggled into bed, ignoring the persistent knocking and apologies that flooded the room. Were you being childish? No. You could’ve talked it out with him, but you really didn’t want to and you really didn’t care enough right now to morph an understanding mood.

What you didn’t understand was why you weren’t able to move- oh. Trying to pry his arms off you, you huffed out frustrated and still upset, only for him to mumble something in your hair, pulling you closer as his grip tightened on you, pushing his leg between yours, tangling you in his long limbs. His hair fell of his face, the tips of his silky locks caressing your forehead, tickling your skin.

“Let go.” you mumbled only to hear him whine, about to ask him to ‘get lost’ until you heard a sniffle, followed by a broken, “I-I’m s-sorry.” Honestly, a part of you didn’t want to give in, but when you heard the way he whined, calling out your name like you were a million miles away, your heart clenched at the tone, hand gently squeezing one of the two that were tightly clamped around you. 

“Hwa…” you sighed, leaning back a bit, feeling his lips press against your neck, ghosting up to your ear, whispering unending apologies, before squeezing you closer.

“Its…not fine but…please don’t…say that again.” she sighed, closing her eyes at the feeling of his soothing touches, letting his plump lips press against the shell of her ear before he flipped them over, with him hovering above her, keeping himself steady with his forearms pressing into the pillow on either sides of her head, staring down at her with puffy eyes and a pink nose, “I won’t…I’m sorry.” 

You smiled up at him, placing a hand on his cheek, adoring the way he instantly nuzzled against it, before slowly bringing him down to meet your lips.

“Then make up for it.”

Jeong Yunho

Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT!

Your blood ran cold, staring at what you had just done, oh my god, it was all over now, you were doomed- you had the worst luck known to man! You were also probably the dumbest person to exist- oh my god. The sound of the controller being placed on the table had you freeze up, but it was the loud exhale that had you flinching like a small kitten, ever so slowly turning your head to the source, trailing your eyes off the floor to lock with an unreadable pair.

“Babe.”

“Yes…Yuyu?” meekly responding, your grip tightened on the mop, trying not to run away, knowing that would only upset him even more. Okay, granted, he had told her as soon as he had come home that he was not in a great mood, the new choreography was a bit tricky and everyone was taking a bit longer than usual to pick it up, and that had led the dancer to embrace this sour mood. Even when she was smothering his cheek with kisses, clinging onto him, he had only sighed, turning to meet her lovey-dovey eyes with his tired ones, giving her a small smile before bumping his forehead with hers, “I’m gonna blow off some steam, yeah?” That had meant he’d be gaming the stress away, and she was supposed to act like a good little kitten and not play around. Lord knows why she thought of cleaning in the first place, perhaps because she was bored and needed a distraction- oh god.

He blinked at you, trying to control his expressions, though his hard stare had you shaking in your boots, slowly standing up he walked closer, and you took a step back, enough for your back to press against the wall next to the TV. Yunho had never hurt you, and he probably never was going to, but what he was doing now was uncharacteristic, exactly how angry was he? How upset was he for him to do what he had done? How angry and frustrated was he for him to say those words? For him to pull away with a glint in his eyes, watching you slowly grip your shirts, trying to control the frantic beating of your heart that was pushing the tears that were fighting to stay within your waterline.

He didn't even stop her when she slid down the wall, pulling her knees closer to her chest, his cold, harsh, brazen words slicing deep and bloody. He stared down at you for a moment before slowly moving away, his absence only hit you once you heard the soft click of the main door. It was moments later that you stood up, wiping your eyes you walked back into your shared bedroom, the scene replaying in your mind on loop;

He pressed his forehead against hers, not the way he would do so romantically, no, this was different, he was being mean, he wanted her to feel the anger coursing through his veins. Though his words were what felt like a cold slap,

“Can you do anything right? Or are you built to disappoint?”

Your eyes snapped open at the gentle call of your name, trying to ignore the lingering pounding at the back of your head. Of course, the persistent headaches were about to roll in, especially after that stressful scene followed by an unimaginable amount of crying.

Yunho whispered to you once more, noticing how you had flinched the first time, he knew your migraine would kick in as soon as he had seen your sleeping tear struck face- shit. He really did lose his cool this time, and had blown up on the wrong person. If there's one thing that he had learnt during his time with you, was that his girl was as fiery as a tiger, but her heart was as fragile as a kitten's, and his gold retriever self had managed to mangle it with his bare teeth.

“Love…” he brushed the hair away from your eyes, trying to meet your blank, unfocused gazed, as he cleared his throat, “I umm….I brought…something to eat-”

“Go away.” You whispered, gently pushing his hand away from you and sitting up, holding your head, the pounding getting louder and more difficult to handle, now that you knew he was right next to you. It was bad enough that you even dreamt about him saying that to you, in fact, in your dream he had broken up with you, which is probably why you gave him the stink eye as soon as he woke you up.

“I…I didn't mean to say that to you- tsk- it wasn't even directed towards you.” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair, trying not to rip it out in frustration. He did not mean to take it out on you, at one point he wasn’t even looking at you, he could just see himself and how he was failing - but did that mean he could take it out on you? No, it didn't. 

You looked at him sitting there on his knees, he still looked like a giant, but his hurt puppy dog expressions just had you internally berate yourself, any moment longer and you would give in- “Wait…” you turn to look at the alarm clock on your side table and whine in protest, having his full attention on you. “You woke me up! I thought it was already morning- it's only 3 am.” huffing she flopped back down on her pillow, ignoring him by closing her eyes. This was the only way you could ensure you got your message across- granted you were at fault, that didn’t mean he could turn you into his personal punching bag.

Yunho sat there, staring at you, closing your eyes as his own cast down to his clasped hands, feeling even more guilty for waking you up, but the guilt had been eating him up, as soon as he had uttered those words the guilt had begun to bubble, watching you helplessly. That was why he had walked out, he needed to clear his head, he needed to calm down and think, and other than the monologue of an apology he had even gone out of the way to get you a cake- not sure you’d eat it now, considering you were still mad at him.

“Ah-Yunho” she giggled as her eyes snapped open. 

You looked down at him and snorted, his head was placed on your tummy, ear pressed against your shirt as he looked at you. “What are you doing?” you asked propping up on your elbows to stare at him, wondering what his mind was up to this time.

“Shhh…I’m listening.”

“To what?”

“Your belly.” he stated simply before sitting up and replacing his head with his palm, “She tells me she’s hungry, and that she’d like this idiot to feed her cake.”

“Did you just call me an idiot?”

Shaking his head he cleared his throat, “N-no, your tummy called me the idiot!” he clarified before turning around and crawling to his side of the bed, picking up a tray and turning around to face her, “So…am I forgiven?” he asked, casually opening the lid of the box, glancing up to see her admire the icing, man, he really struck gold with this one, she was as forgiving as she was cute- 

“Depends. If you promise not to have a single bite.”

His eyes widened at your request, trying to see if this was some kind of joke, apparently…it was not. Clearing his throat he placed the tray between them and saluted her with one hand, “Yes Ma’am!” he yelled before taking a spoonful of the cake and pressing it against your lips, “I live to serve and please my lady.” Leave it to Yunho to wake you up at the early hours of the day and feed you cake, a very Yunho way of apologising.

Kang Yeosang

He watched you barge through the front door, looking like a mad woman as you flung your bag somewhere across the apartment, not after kicking off your heels and stumbling into the kitchen, grumbling about how ‘shitty’ your day was and how you hate men, followed by a ‘minus you Sangie, you’re the best.’ His girl really was something else, it truly amazed him how he ever fell inlove with her, especially with her distaste towards most men, hell it took her some time to even warm up to the rest of the guys- except for Mingi, which was super weird because if you ask him, Mingi is the weirdest, but she just said he’s a giant baby who thinks hes cool, like boss baby!

Picking up the remote, he pressed play, leaning back against the couch to continue watching the film. Only a shrill call of his name has him jerking off the sofa and running into the kitchen. Stumbling through the door frame blinks at you, with you standing there with the fridge open, glaring daggers at him, holding onto a container - oh…no.

“Yeosang…” other than your horrifying expression, your overall tone was very calm, which honestly scared him, you were a very expressive person until pushed to a point where you begin to shut out others, and right now, he’d have you yell at him, than completely shut him out. He took a step in your direction, only for you to raise your hand and stop him, motioning towards the empty container, “Did you eat the last slice?” Even though it was a question, it really did sound like a statement, one that was holding back the predestined overflow of emotions, of stress.

With a light sigh, he nodded, clearing his throat as he continued, “I…um…I forgot that you told me to save it for you…I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind.” His words held a gentle form of sincerity, the tender warmth of love, the calm essence of admiration - and she could not give a flying f*ck about it, especially not right now.

Making sure to maintain eye contact, you placed the empty container - the evidence - back in its place before closing the fridge. Taking a deep breath, you walked away, making sure not to spare him a glance as you walked out of the kitchen, ignoring his calls when you walked into the bedroom. You could hear him run after you, a gentle whine hanging off the tip of his tongue, but he froze when you turned around and looked at him, giving him no expression whatsoever, just, blankly staring at - no, through him. Honestly, it was then when he realised that this was not about the stupid cake, no, this was much more, he had forgotten something that was important to her, something she must have been looking forward to while she was on the bus home, something she must have been craving to eat- selfish, that’s what he was, and he knew deep down how mad she must have been- could he blame her?

He sat on the edge of the bed, ever so quietly, watching you go through your nightly routine. It hurt how easily you could pretend he wasn’t there, but then again, he wasn’t very attentive to your presence within this apartment either. He watched you go into the washroom, peaking through the door left ajar, watching you vigorously rub your face, holding back the urge of telling you to go gentle with the scrub on your skin, but he knew if he did, he’d probably get kicked out of the room- at least you didn’t ask him to leave you. You came back into the room, making sure to glare at him, something he caught onto pretty quickly, averting his gaze to his lap.

After a solid ten minutes of letting you change your clothes he glanced up at you once again, only to find you frowning at him through the mirror as you brushed your hair- at this point he realised you had not shut him out, but had decided to punish him like this. This went on for a while until you finally ripped The comforter from your side, making sure to land on the with an angry bounce, enough for him to jerk, turning to your direction for you to glare at him one more time and turn around as you flopped down on your side with an audible “HMPH”.

He didn't know if he should fine this cute, or be upset, a good part of him wanted to tease you, his inner menace begging to come up to the surface, but his more mature side or being kept reminding him that she was only doing this to avoid blowing up at him- which only added to his guilt, you really were a blessing.

You sat up to the sound of something shattering, heart racing a thousand miles as you turned to look at the place on the bed that was usually occupied by Yeosang, only to gasp when he wasn't there. Slipping out of bed, you slowly crept towards the door, grabbing your handy bat in the process as you tip toed out of the room, towards the kitchen. It was early morning, other than the noise from the kitchen, you could hear the early chirping of the bids- Yeosang had an early schedule today, so he was already out of the house- did that mean he forgot to lock the door? Shit, did someone come in because the door was unlocked, or did someone break in because they saw your boyfriend leaving.

With a bat in hand, you ran into the kitchen, ready to swing at the intruder, only you stopped mid swing when you met a familiar pair of eyes.

“YAH! KANG YEOSANG!”

His eyes widened at the sight of the bat, body frozen, crouched on the ground, waiting for the impact, only for him to jerk into action and fall back on his butt, staring up at her, whispering, “I almost…died.”

With a huff, you placed the back on the counter, pushing your hair back and walking over to your idiotic lover. Glancing at the pieces of shattered glass on the floor, oh, so that's what happened, huh? Giving him a hand, you looked at his face, raising a brow, watching him mumble something before giving your hand a squeeze.

“What?” you asked, leaning closer to hear him better, only he mistook it for you wanting affection, or perhaps he was the one who needed physical consolation. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush into his chest, making sure to squeeze you close. With a sigh you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, a good night's rest clearing your mind of any and all negative thoughts, in fact, now you were just exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to be pampered by your forgetful lover.

“What were you doing here?” You asked, looping you around from under his, placing your palms flat against his shoulder blades, feeling the slightest shift, pressing him closer to you - almost squeezing him like a plushie.

“Was…trynna bake you a cake.” He mumbled, burying his face in your hair, “But I messed up….I'm sorry…I ate your slice.”

With a sigh, you pulled your face back, giving him a small smile, “It's…alright Sangie…I'm sorry I got so upset last night…I just really really really don't like men.”

He pouted at your statement and nodded before leaning closer and pressing his forehead against yours, whispering, “Am I included in that statement?”

A giggled broke past your lips as you glanced up at him through your lashes, “Of course not…you're a fairy prince…not a stupid man…now come on,” with that you pulled away, gently lacing your fingers with his, “Let’s bake a cake together.” He could only smile at this, blushing at your compliment, any other day he'd argue about how he was a manly man, but today, he just wanted to shower her with all his love and tenderness, so he'd take it, and he'd be your fairy Prince for as long as you need him to be.

.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a @ateezswonderland

[svtswhorehouse]

DATING HOSHI INCLUDES…. — sfw

• if he ever suspects you or figures out that you’re the mafia whenever y’all play, he would NEVER expose you. he would in fact protect you WITH HIS LIFE. this says a lot about how much he loves you because hoshi would never back down during mafia ever. (poor mingyu :/ he really was innocent all this time.)

• you would probably be the only person capable of successfully dragging him out of the dance studio.

• he would let you squish his cheeks whenever you want (especially when you’re having a bad day.)

• as surprising as it sounds, when y’all are alone, he’s the calm bf and you’re the hyper gf.

• he will NEVER dull your sparkle no matter how bad of a day he’s having.

• when he loves, he loves with EVERYTHING in him.

• dates with him would never be boring. he mainly plans the adventurous ones, choosing to do something like a water park or hiking instead. (he would definitely give you a piggy back ride if you get tired.)

• if he makes a promise with you, he would rather walk through hell barefoot than break it no matter the circumstance. he’s such a dependable lover and always comes through.

• he turns into the softest person whenever you’re having a bad day. he would start talking in a low voice, give you space if needed, but also make sure you’re never suffering alone. your struggles are his and he always lets you know that.

• he’s fine with driving you around everywhere, but be prepared cause he is a super speeder for sure (i know we’ve all seen that one episode of going seventeen.)

• y’all definitely have random dance parties from time to time, especially when y’all are home alone and drinking.

• also, he’s DEFINITELY the type of person who would pull you out of the house to dance under the stars or in the pouring rain. SO ROMANTIC AND CUTESY :’)

• he once ended up winning a tiger plushie for you at the fair before y'all even started dating, and you still have it to this day.

• y'all are for sure dressing up as tigers one year for halloween, he insists.

• he enjoys teaching you dances and always lets you watch as he choreographs. hoshi is constantly wanting your input and praise when he does so.

• he’s oblivious to everything besides when it comes to you.

• he has the habit of hogging the blanket at night. definitely looks like a kicked puppy when you shake him awake to yell at him. he truly doesn’t mean to, it just happens.

• he flaunts you with no fear or shame all over his social media. he dngaf about haters, at the end of the day it’s you that he plans to spend the rest of his life with not them.

• be prepared because he would constantly litter kisses ALL OVER your face no matter the time of day.

• if he had to chose between you or kimchi, he would pick you. that’s saying a lot.

• he will forever be your number one supporter. he is always encouraging you and hyping you up despite what situation you’re in.

• he genuinely thinks you’re the absolute cutest !

• he tells you anything and everything, even if it has nothing to do with him. you definitely know all the practice room secrets.

• if you whip out the government name, he would look at you like a deer in the headlights. don’t scare him like that.

• no matter how bad you are at singing, he would always reassure you that it sounds like music to his ears.

• the pantry would always be stocked with frosted flakes. not because he likes the cereal, but rather just because of the tiger on the box.

• he is always taking random pictures of you, it consists of ninety percent of his camera roll. he REFUSES to delete them.

• he’s speaks of you so fondly and definitely might bring you up in every conversation with people absentmindedly. he loves and admires you so incredibly much.

• he used to tickle you often. he stopped when you accidentally elbowed him in the nose one time and made him bleed.

• if you’re allowed to squish his cheeks, then you have to allow him to boop your nose. it’s an eye for an eye.

• whenever you two argue, it’s rare in which it’s serious. it’s mostly just playful little banters here and there.

• if the arguments are ever serious, it plays in his mind a lot. hoshi treats your heart as if it’s made of glass and the last thing he ever wants to do is make you sad or worse, cry.

• he voices his love like shakespeare to you whenever he’s drunk. hoshi most def becomes a giggly, nervous mess whenever you’re around.

• you know how it’s normally the gf that turns their brain off whenever they’re around their boyfriend? yeah, it’s the opposite way around for you two.

• eye of the tiger would be on full BLAST throughout all hours of the day, he claims it’s his favorite song.

[dallaji]

Hope we make it to the Cloud.

♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗

SUMMARY: Amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. The lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. However, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. They decide to send over one Bada Lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. You just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.

WORD COUNT: 10k

CW: eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (but i promise it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was meant to be pure smut but it became much longer than i intended ... oops for that . . . lets just roll with it!!1 also the choreo described is heavily inspired by tinashes bouncin.

- you don't care about those 7k words worth of boring build up? skip to this line: <After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”>

————— ୨୧ —————

The first thing you notice is how surprisingly gentle her voice is. 

“I’m Bada, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Bada Lee stood tall in front of you, clad in an oversized jersey, cargo pants and a cap hugging her forehead in such a way her eyes were entirely obscured from your view. She promptly bowed after she spoke. Unsure where to look, you dropped your gaze and followed suit; vaguely aware of her seniority and bowing deeper.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” You tried to keep your own voice as neutral as possible, but agitation bubbled in your chest as you felt your manager’s prodding, eager eyes behind you. “Thanks for being here.”

Your team was much more excited about this collaboration than you were.

None of the aggravation you felt was Bada’s fault. It had been three weeks of your creative team dismissing every choreo draft you came up with: Three weeks of sleepless nights at the dance studio, tiring out yourself and your background dancers. Three weeks of browsing through videos sent in by other choreographers across the country, attempting to mix bits and pieces together but none of it ever feeling right. Three weeks filled with reminders of a deadline looming over your head. Three weeks of your team letting you know they had little confidence in this comeback. Your last attempt at showing them what you had come up with had ended up in a shouting match. Your manager, who you otherwise got along with just fine, bluntly stated that, perhaps, this concept simply wasn’t something you could pull off.

It had left you feeling betrayed. Your creative team had agreed it was time for you to approach a more mature concept, something that you felt was years overdue. But it seemed their definition of mature and yours were wildly different. You had worked hard on perfecting a set of songs to choose from, but you immediately butted heads with the rest of the team. You wanted to do the bouncy and playful R&B track. Your team wanted the EDM track. Eventually they relented, but now seemed hellbent on making it as difficult as possible for your vision to come to fruition. Putting together the visual board for the concept photos and the eventual music video was a similarly arduous process. You had to meet in the middle and sacrifice a lot of your initial ideas, but that procedure was almost pleasant compared to what you were dealing with in regards to the choreography.

Every idea you put forward was promptly shut down. Too complicated. Too boring. No TikTok challenge potential. Too sexy.

And maybe it was true. Your formations weren’t as clean as the ones thought up by a professional choreographer, but you weren’t really given a chance at all. It wasn’t like you were a bad dancer either. Far from it. You picked up choreos incredibly fast and had always played an active part in brainstorming past routines alongside your background dancers. You had more experience than most of your peers, yet you were treated as if you were still the same teenaged trainee from years ago.

“Is that really how you all feel?” You had whispered after your manager dropped that bombshell, searching for an answer in the facial expressions of your creative team. Most of them were not even willing to meet your eyes. “We just need to be realistic.” Your manager stated matter-of-factly. “That other song is still an opt—” “I am not changing the song.” You cut him off. Momentarily, your manager looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. “Sorry.” You added quickly, albeit a bit flustered. “Look,” He sighed, “We can do mature without shocking the nation. Let's keep it mild for now and maybe after two or three more singles, you can go all out.” “I haven’t been 18 in years, you know.” You retorted bitterly. Something inside you understood where he was coming from, but you had been obedient since your debut- how much longer should you wait? You didn’t want to sacrifice any more of your creativity, so many years into your career. You had even seen one of your own concepts go to a labelmate instead, your own team dubbing you too “youthful” to pull it off.  “Okay, how about this,” He began with a frown, “Let us pick one of the choreographers’ drafts for you. You can finetune it with their guidance.”

Their pick had been Bada. You hadn’t even realized she sent in a draft: at one point you were so overwhelmed you just stopped checking your emails. You also hadn’t bothered to watch it before this meeting. You were genuinely too deep in your feelings about that whole ordeal for that. However, now that she was standing in the studio, tall height towering over you, you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. 

You had seen Bada around.

After all, she had worked with many of your labelmates before. You had also watched a fair amount of her videos. She was one of the best in the business, and whenever you had downtime to practice freely you scrolled through her routines on Youtube to help stay in shape. As you were facing her, even with half her face hidden, you understood why everyone was so stricken with her. When she had walked into the room she oozed with authority, though not in an obnoxious way.

“Great!” Your manager clapped his hands, effectively breaking your train of thought. “Thank you so much for supporting us, Bada. Shall we jump right in?”

“Sure,” She nodded eagerly, hands wringing together as her body turned towards you. “I kind of wanted to see what you had in mind for this choreo.”

That surprised you, and you were certain your facial expression wasn’t hiding it. Your manager held his breath. “Oh! Well—” You chewed on your lip as you vaguely motioned the corner of the room, trying to find the words. “I wanted to use… I wanted to use a trampoline.”

Bada immediately turned her head to follow your gestures, her eyes landing on the mini trampoline set up in the studio. “A trampoline?” In the background, your manager heaved a sigh.

You purposely ignored him and nodded, slowly: “I can show you, if you want.” You had hoped that sounded more self-assured to her than it did to you.

Bada scratched her chin, still looking off to the trampoline, and then nodded along with you. “I’d love to see it.” 

You felt the tension in your chest ebb away. There was no malice to her tone; she seemed genuinely curious.

Then, Bada turned her head towards your manager, her ponytail falling off her shoulder. “I hope I'm not imposing but, I would like this to be a collaborative effort between the two of us. I think it would take the pressure off if you…?” She trailed off with a kind smile, one impossible to say no to.

As if he got doused with cold water, your manager stood up with an urgency. “Privacy! I can give you two some privacy, no problem!” He fussed around, gathering his things. “Just let me know when we can sit in on the finished product.”

The both of you bowed to him as you bid your farewells, watching him leave the studio with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, you could feel yourself exhale in relief. You knew that if your manager was going to sit in on every practice, he would go out of his way to shut down all of your ideas. Without him around, you had more opportunity to champion your vision- at least, you hoped so.

You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, before letting your eyes fall shut with a sigh, almost forgetting there was another person in the room.

“They’ve been on your case, huh?” 

Bada's soft but clear voice broke you out of your spell, and you turned your head to search for a glimpse of eye contact. Tough luck, as her hat was still in place casting a shadow down her face. There was, however, a knowing smirk playing across her features.

“You have no idea.” You muttered honestly. Bada laughed.

“I don’t want to make you dance a routine you don’t fully stand behind. I did mean it when I said I want this to be a collaborative effort.” Bada spoke carefully, but sincerely, her fingers once again intertwining. “I always wanted to work with you, so it’s an honor.” She added.

If you got a penny for every time you were caught off guard today, you could set some humble savings aside for an early retirement.

It is true that you’ve been sought after, but it wasn’t something you had ever internalized. Hearing it come from someone who herself was heavily sought after, made your face heat up.

“T- thank you. It’s an honor to work with you too.”

She bowed her head humbly, glancing over to the corner of the studio again where the trampoline sat, waiting. “Do you feel comfortable showing me what you have been working on?”

You nodded and rushed to the corner to set up your speaker, and then dragged the trampoline to the center of the room. You were oddly aware of your own presence, and almost felt the urge to make yourself smaller as you moved around. In the meantime, Bada was getting comfortable: she had dropped her things on a nearby table and left out a bottle of water. To her it must be a regular working day, but to you this felt scarier than getting up on stage.

Once you stood behind the trampoline, facing the wide stretched mirror filling up one side of the room, you stole a glance at the choreographer who was now crouched on the floor. She had pulled out a small camera and was setting it up on the edge of the table, making sure the lens was focused on your position. Long fingers fiddled with the buttons, and her tongue was prodding the hollow of her cheek. The angle allowed you to finally catch a glimpse of her eyes.

As if on cue, she glanced up at you. Your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and your heart raced.

She gave you a soft smile and moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, the camera now fully set up. “I usually record everything, so we can watch it back and give feedback.”

Right, of course.

“Yeah, that’s usually how we operate as well.” You spoke timidly, and it was true. Yet something about having her attention on you felt more intimate. Usually there was at least one other person from your creative team looking on as well.

Trying to come across casual, you tied your hair up in a high ponytail. “What do you think of the song?” You asked curiously.

It was now Bada’s turn to be caught off guard. Her smile faltered and she broke the eye contact you had been sharing, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “I like it.” She began. “A lot, actually. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. There isn’t anyone doing a song like this nowadays.”

Even though her body language was confusing, you couldn’t find any dishonesty in her voice. What she said made you feel relieved, some of your insecurity fading to the background. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. 

You sent a smile her way even though you weren’t sure she was even looking at you. 

Proving you wrong, she smiled back.

“Alright, so,” You gestured to the trampoline at your feet. “The idea is, the other dancers and I all do the same routine. I'll be front and center. Four or six other dancers dance behind me, with their own trampoline.” You gave the trampoline a light shove with your foot, making sure it would stay in place, and then grabbed your phone. “Then you have an idea.” 

You looked over your shoulder at Bada and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. “Ready?” You asked.

Bada pressed a button on the camera and mimicked your thumbs up with a smile. “Ready when you are.”

You faced the mirror again and shook your shoulders a bit, forcing your body to loosen up. After twisting your neck a few times, you hit play on your phone, quickly placing it under the trampoline as the familiar synths of the song started blaring from the speakers. You tried to feel the confidence you were usually able to conjure up on stage, closing your eyes and swaying your hips, ponytail moving from side to side. 

As soon as you heard your own voice through the speakers, instrumentals going deeper, you got into position. Your eyes opened up to focus on your own reflection in the mirror as if it was a fan in the crowd watching. Mouthing along to the lyrics, a playful smile on your lips, you hit every move as you had envisioned. Once the chorus came up, you dropped to your knees on the trampoline, grappling the edge as you performed the routine. Pushing back against the springs gave you the velocity to keep your moves fluid, your body twisting and turning, flipping over and hitting the next move. You made sure to move your hips deftly, aware that you had enough curves to allow you to pull it off, and kept your facial expressions in line. It had to look effortless. 

You felt your ponytail swing along with your movements as if it were an extension of you, and sat up on the trampoline. The chorus came to an end and you used your arm strength to twist yourself around fast enough, gracefully falling back on your chest whilst keeping your toes en pointe in your sneakers. The tips of your fingers were touching the floor as your legs crossed, moving to rest your elbow on the edge of the trampoline and resting your chin atop your palm. You lip synced to the final words of the chorus, gaze alluring as you finished the move, and the music stopped.

You slowly sat up straight on the trampoline, crossing your legs, and slid your hand underneath to hit pause on your phone. You looked towards Bada expectantly, but the question got stuck in your throat. She was staring at you, mouth slightly agape, with an unreadable expression. For a split second you were reminded of your trainee days, when you had just finished a routine and were met by your choreographers’ stern faces; they wouldn’t spare you a single compliment, and instead listed off every mistake you had made.

But then, Bada blinked once and then twice, as if in a daze, and let out a soft “woah”. She started applauding you, shaking her head in bafflement. You felt your shoulders drop in relief.

“That was incredible!” The choreographer took off her cap, fixing her bangs before putting it back on. “You came up with this?”

You nodded slowly, the tips of your ears glowing hot. “I used to be a gymnast.”

“I can tell—” Bada spoke bluntly, but then snapped her mouth shut as if she said something wrong. “I mean, that was really good. Every part of your body was in command. Your team didn’t like it?”

“They think it’s too much, compared to my usual routines.” You had the urge to go off on a tangent, but ultimately you didn’t know Bada well enough. Unfortunately, you were naturally quite expressive and the disapproving frown on your face was on clear display.

“Too much? I kind of wanted more, actually.” She laughed softly, looking down to where her legs were crossed. You felt your heart skip a beat and bowed your head in lieu of a thanks. 

Subsequently, the bright green light of the camera caught your attention. It was still recording. 

“Hey, I think the camera is still on.” You spoke before you realized, and hoped it didn’t sound accusatory.

“Huh? Oh!” Her expression was almost akin to a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, the way she swiped at the camera to turn it off. “Sorry. Good call.” She mumbled shyly, tucking it behind her. 

You weren’t sure what to say next, still flustered at her lofty praises, but luckily Bada broke the momentary silence.

“I had an idea…” She began, her hand rubbing at her chin pensively. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to watch my draft yet?”

You shook your head abashedly. “No, sorry, I honestly didn’t get to it.”

“It’s fine.” Bada waved her hands dismissively. “Maybe instead of doing the trampoline routine in every chorus, we could only do it in the middle? Exactly as it is. I wouldn’t change anything. And then for the other two choruses, we could keep some key moves but keep it on the floor.”

You mulled it over for a second, glancing up at the ceiling contemplatively. Using the trampoline the whole way through was not an option, according to your team. They had felt you were toeing the line with ‘raunchy’ much too closely. Perhaps you could find middle ground this way, while still keeping the part of the routine you felt most proud of. 

“Okay.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “We would need something special for the final chorus, then.”

“I had another idea for that, if you’re fine with it. Would you like to watch my draft with me?”

————— ୨୧ —————

Her draft was good. Really good, actually. 

Bada and you were sitting on the floor next to each other, the taller girl holding her phone out in front of you as the draft played on the screen. You were sitting quite closely together, but not close enough to be touching, a conscious decision on your part. You were a bit too aware of her presence, something about her was heightening your senses in a variety of ways. It wasn’t even as if she was stern or unkind, she just had an aura that intimidated you. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

A blonde girl you didn’t recognize was dancing your parts. Six other dancers, one of them being Bada, were in formation behind her performing the choreography perfectly in sync as your song played in the background. While you should really be paying attention to the girl in the center, your eyes couldn’t leave Bada’s figure. In the video she was dressed in loose-fitting cargo pants, just like today, and a crop top. Once again she wore a cap covering half her face, and even a face mask, but her hair hung loose over her shoulders. 

You were always impressed by the small movements she was able to squeeze in, emphasizing certain parts in ways the other dancers weren’t able to. However, it was the final chorus that had your hands turn clammy.

The final chorus was a duet formation. Bada, with a quiet confidence in her step, and the blonde girl moved towards each other in the center of the room. They were effectively dancing for each other, the blonde girl whipping her head back as Bada stared her down, swaying their hips together rhythmically. Their steps were coordinated in such a way they almost mirrored, Bada rolling her body one way and the blonde girl moving the other; but it still felt cohesive. It was an intimate choreo. There were a few split moments of hips grinding against crotches, but it never lasted long enough to be straight up inappropriate. Still, you couldn’t help but realize you would have to practice this routine with Bada as well, and you felt yourself getting hot under the collar.

The choreo ended with the blonde girl giving Bada a playful shove, and the taller girl backed away slowly, a saunter in her step, before moving off the screen along with the other background dancers. The video ended and Bada dropped her phone in her lap, not looking at you.

“That was good.” You were relieved your voice came out evenly, and Bada started nodding in her trademark way, hands clasped together. “The formations were really clean and— I loved the final chorus.” You blurted.

She smirked, head raising and meeting your eyes for the second time today. You were starting to feel eager, greedily watching. 

“I’m glad to hear. We definitely need to finetune the first chorus, line it up with your routine and all that. I really don’t want to lose your input.”

“That sounds great, thank you.” You felt a surge of gratitude in your chest, and shot her a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to working on this together.”

Bada dropped her gaze again, worrying her lower lip. You felt miffed at the brusque interruption of your shared eye contact but didn't show it. 

“I suggest we start with practices tomorrow, we will edit the first chorus as we go,” She whipped out her phone, looking at her calendar. “We should practice the duet together until you’ve got a handle on it, and then I can bring over some of my guys to prep for the actual performances. I know someone for my part. He’s worked with some of your labelmates before, I’m confident he’s right for the job.” 

You couldn’t tell if you were anxious at the prospect of practicing such a choreo with Bada, or if you were disappointed that the eventual product wouldn’t be performed with her. It made sense, though. If your label was already worried your concept was too mature for the country, having two women perform such a choreography wouldn’t be received well at all. 

“Great. Same time tomorrow, just the two of us again?” 

“Same time tomorrow,” The third time she was willing to meet your eyes, and once again with a small smile playing across her features. “Just the two of us.”

————— ୨୧ —————

Working with Bada the past few days has been surprisingly easy. 

On the first day, she brought some iced coffee for the both of you and presented it with an exaggeratedly deep bow, holding out the plastic takeout bag in front of her as if she was a lackey presenting you a treasure. You giggled, muttering an incredulous “thank you” as you took the bag from her hands. Through sips of coffee, the both of you fast forwarded through the recordings trying to piece the choreography together. You were able to bounce ideas off of her in a way you never felt comfortable enough doing with other choreographers. Bada was attentive, patient and, above all, eager. 

On the second day, you wanted to repay your debt and entered the studio with a box of doughnuts. She let out a surprisingly girlish squeak when you laid the box on the table, and barreled over to grab one. That day she was wearing a beanie instead of a cap, something you inadvertently preferred as you could now lock eyes and take in her features. Sometimes you had the impression she was hellbent on looking anywhere except into your eyes, but you didn’t want to mull it over for too long; some people just had a different way of interacting. Everything else about her still left you with a warm feeling.

Sometimes you both took turns performing for each other. She would pull her beanie further down her head as she took the center of the studio, and each time something inside you would brace itself. You could only watch in awe: her movements were sharp and magnetic, her entire body language changing in the blink of an eye. While your attention should be on her footwork, you were instead hypnotized by the sway of her hips, greedily drinking her in. You chalked it up to her being such a captivating dancer.

However, little could explain how much you relished in her undivided attention. When it was your turn to copy the moves, you made sure to give it your all and put on a show. Without a hat obscuring her eyes, you could tell where her eyes were looking and it wasn’t always on your reflection in the mirror. You swore you could feel her gaze burning in your lower back, but you didn’t mind. It encouraged you to hit your moves a bit harder than you usually would.

“You’re a fast learner,” Bada said at the end of the day, drinking from her water bottle as you watched her throat bob. “Keep it up and you won’t need me anymore.”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

————— ୨୧ —————

By the fifth day, the both of you had started working through the details of the duet. 

The familiar song sounded through the speakers, the room filled with the sound of your singing voice and the squeaking of your sneakers on the floor. 

You were painfully aware of the way Bada closely danced behind you but you kept your eyes down, forcing yourself to keep track of your footwork. You bent over slightly at the start of the next line, your hips popping out and letting your hair whip to the side as you hummed along to the lyrics. In tandem, Bada moved her hips the opposite direction but gyrated closer to you, her hand coming up to tug her cap lower. You spared the mirror a glance for a split second, realizing Bada was much closer to you than you had realized, but you pushed the thought away.

You looked good together.

“Pause real quick.” She spoke suddenly, stepping away from you and bending over to stop the song. You immediately halted your movements at the command, trying to control the heaving of your chest and willing away the warmth of your cheeks. 

She stood up again, meeting your eyes in the mirror before steadying herself behind you, body close to yours.

“You’re doing great, but,” A tentative hand slid to your hip, fingers curling over in a loose grip as she subtly urged it to move to one side. Both your eyes remained locked through the mirror. “I think we should move together in this part. Like this.” She repeated the motion, her grasp on your hip tightening ever so slightly before pulling you flush against her pelvis. Her hips rocked along with yours, and you could only follow. 

She hummed close to your ear, and you felt her breathe along the side of your face. “Just like that.” Her voice was quiet, gentle even, though her stare was everything but that. It was intense. 

In an attempt to sound casual you replied with an “okay”, but it came out softer than you had hoped for. 

Her eyes dropped from the mirror, opting to look down at you directly, but you couldn’t find the confidence to return the favor. “You should do that thing again," she continued quietly, "Where you throw your hair back, but look at me when you do it.”

You repeated your steps, but this time both her hands came down to hold your hips in place. You turned your head as requested, your hair falling over your shoulder as your eyes finally met. Her gaze was intense but undecipherable; she hadn’t been looking at the mirror at all this time.

Bada was so close, unblinking and heady. The thought entered your mind before you fully realized: if you craned your neck you could kiss her. In a careful motion, you felt her hands slide up and down slowly, smoothing along the curve of your hips.

“Perfect.” She said, and it sounded so intimate you felt lightheaded. Usually she voiced her approval with an animated smile and a thumbs up, but she spoke to you as if she was scared you would set off running. “You got it. You want to try that again with music?”

You nodded slowly and her hands dropped from your hips, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. As she bent down to turn the song back on, you brought the back of your hand up to your cheek; checking if it was as warm as you felt. Then you ran your fingers through your ponytail, tightening the hair tie with a sharp tug in an attempt to snap yourself out of whatever daze you had fallen into.

It meant nothing. She had merely workshopped a move and there was no need to feel so nervous.

The final chorus of the song began thumping again and the both of you got into your starting positions. Bada’s presence was palpable behind you, but you tried to force your head back into performance-mode. You kept your moves sharp, lip synced as if the voice came directly from your own throat and smiled playfully at all the right lines. 

As the instrumentals of the final chorus got louder, you twirled a finger around your ponytail, playing with the imaginary crowd in front of you. Bada pressed up against your back. Your hips moving in tandem just as the choreo required and you could no longer repress the urge to grind back against her. You saw Bada smirk in the mirror, her eyes obscured by her cap, but you could tell she was enjoying your blunt display of confidence. That made you laugh for real, putting an extra ‘oomph’ into the roll of your hips, dropping even lower, and feeling Bada take what you gave her with a great amount of enthusiasm. You heard the choreographer let out a "woo!" and you giggled.

At the very end of the choreo, you were meant to face Bada and push her away; making room for a final solo moment. So you turned around, meeting that familiar mischievous grin and your hand came up to curl into her collar. Bada sucked in her lower lip, greedily towering over you and looking down expectantly. 

But something about the giddy atmosphere had you feeling bold, so you tugged her even closer instead. Her mouth fell open, but she followed you down nonetheless, eyes becoming half-lidded. You were mere inches removed from each other, and her breath fanned across your face. For a split second her gaze lingered on your lips, and you held your breath, heart fluttering in an unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting thought told you to bridge the gap, pull her impossibly closer by the grip you had on her collar, but your body acted before your brain could. 

You reached for her cap and tugged it off her head, putting it on yourself in one swift movement and then shoved her away as you were supposed to do; effectively breaking the spell. You turned on your heel to look back at your reflection in the mirror, consciously blocking Bada from your periphery and closed out the song. The music stopped.

Now that the studio was quiet you could hear the both of you catching your breaths, and rather than facing Bada while your face was still heating up, you flopped onto the floor, limbs spread out. You moved Bada’s cap atop your face, blocking out the bright lights of the practice room, feeling exceptionally winded. 

You felt Bada sit down next to you and she promptly pulled her hat off your face.

“Ow,” You uttered lamely, arms coming up to cover your face instead. Surely the shame you felt was on wide display and you had to save the little bit of the reputation you had left. You could already hear her voice, albeit uncharacteristically, echo in your head: “What was that?” “Why didn’t you just stick to what I told you?” “That was highly unprofessional.” Your stomach churned.

But instead she said: “That was incredible.”

“Huh.” You exclaimed unintelligently. You tentatively moved your arms from your face and were met with Bada staring you down, her hat back in place. It would probably be too weird if you went back into hiding, so you dropped your arms uselessly. 

“That was incredible,” she repeated, a fond smile on her lips. “You are incredible. I’m telling you, we’ve got a hit on our hands.” She extended her arms excitedly, as if she had to convey the sheer magnitude of potential you both had crafted.

“You really think so?” You sounded breathless, the warmth in your chest blossoming. 

“I know so. Seriously? If your team doesn’t like this, they’re idiots.” Her bluntness kicked a laugh out of you, and you playfully whacked her knee. “No, I mean it!”

“It wasn’t too much?” Slowly you sat up, tugging at the front of your shirt clinging uncomfortably to your body from the sweat.

Bada tilted her head, blinking at you sympathetically as she weighed your words carefully. 

“I’ve already told you,” her voice was quiet, as if she was worried someone else might overhear, “I can’t get enough of you. The same goes for the public, by the way.” 

That made you want to kick your feet like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fought the impulse to fall into her arms. Instead, you dropped your head with a timid smile hoping that did enough to show your gratitude. 

Bada placed a hand on your shoulder with a touch so soft she might as well be reassembling a broken vase, urging you to look at her. “Let's take a break, order some bubble tea and then watch the recordings. Sound good?” 

You leaned into the touch with exhilaration. “Yeah. My treat, though.”

————— ୨୧ —————

The tenth day coincided with a photoshoot in the morning. You had gotten up at 4am to get to the location early enough so that there was enough room for your stylists to get to work. 

The first thing you noticed was the visual board you had worked on tirelessly a few weeks prior.

It had changed.

Some of the images jumbled around or left out entirely, replaced by ones you did not recognize or even liked to begin with. Even the color scheme had changed. Before you could ask your manager about it, however, your hair stylist beckoned you to follow her into the booth. Still groggy, with just a protein shake in your belly to keep you at bay, you followed without objection.

But then, after you emerged fully made up with your hair in intricate braids and ribbons, you saw the backdrop you were going to work with and the outfits you would be wearing: they looked nothing like what you had agreed on. 

Once sown into the baby pink corset, you looked at your reflection in the mirror with a glassy expression, too exhausted to even express the anger that was simmering in your chest. 

“What happened to the costume I commissioned?” You asked your manager in a flat voice, fully realizing you wouldn’t like whatever the answer would be.

“Oh,” But he didn’t sound surprised at all, “We didn’t really like how it turned out, so we decided to go with something else. Pink looks good on you, you know.” He added hurriedly. 

You blinked, clenching and unclenching your jaw. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in front of all the staff. Firstly, it wasn’t their fault; secondly, word got around quickly and the last thing you needed was a trending blind item about diva behavior. With great difficulty you swallowed the venom down your throat and walked over to the camera crew without sparing your manager a single glance. Bowing to everyone separately, you turned on the autopilot. You just needed to get through the day. You posed for the flashing of the cameras, turning your brain off.

“That’s a wrap! Great work, all.” The photographer’s voice snapped you out of your daze, and you slowly stumbled away from the backdrop, blinking back tears.

“Great job everyone, thank you for your hard work.” You hoped your voice sounded even and hurried away to get changed.

Once alone in your dressing room, you bent over the sink with your hands in your hair. You didn’t understand. They had seen the choreography Bada and you had worked on, and approved. They had been enthusiastic even, and it felt like your team and you had finally buried the hatchet. Now you understood why they were so pliant in their acceptance of the final choreo; they had found something else to exert their control over. You didn’t want to cry, so you grit your teeth and untied your hair, fingers smoothing out where the braids had been.

Bada.

In the bustle of the early morning you had almost forgotten you were meant to start your first practice with the entire dance crew today, with Bada as the lead choreographer ensuring everything played out exactly according to your collaborative vision. It had been almost two days since you had last seen her, yesterday being a day off for the both of you, and for some reason it felt like a lifetime.

You wanted to see her, but you weren’t sure if you could dance today.

You arrived at the studio about an hour later, right on time, with most of your makeup cleared from your face and dressed in joggers and a crop top. This time you were sporting a cap as well, hoping the dancers wouldn’t notice the fatigue etched on your face on your first day with them. 

Everyone was already there. Some dancers stretching, others practicing and a few watching the recordings while in deep discussion with Bada. Her flannel shirt was bunched up at her elbows as she made grand gestures with her hands, explaining something to the dancers in front of her. As the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room, the tall girl perked up mid-sentence, shooting you a wide smile. 

“Hey! I got you some coffee.” She spoke brightly, walking over to you in big strides as her loose braid fell off her shoulder. You had just finished bowing to everyone when you turned to Bada, feeling your chest swell at the sight of her. “How was the shoot?”

She must’ve noticed something. Perhaps it was the sag of your shoulder, the way you bit your lower lip or the exhaustion in your eyes; but her smile faltered slightly when she got a closer look. 

“It went alright.” You spoke neutrally, unable to meet her eyes but adding a nod to come across as reassuring as possible. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Bada stood a bit helplessly but seemed to understand that prying any further would be futile. “Of course, it was my turn, after all.” She smiled carefully. “You wanna get started?”

“Let’s do that.” You agreed, hoping that dancing would get your mind off of things. 

Bada gathered everyone together and gave a small speech, making a conscious effort to do all the talking so you could comfortably hide the swelling insecurity you felt deep in your chest. You nodded at the right times, smiled at the dancers (some of them peeking at you in awe) and tried to come across relaxed. 

Once Bada finished talking, she called for everyone to get in position as she strode to the far end of the room, where she had the most optimal view. You moved to the front, right next to your trampoline, facing the mirror and vaguely took note of a tall guy with a buzzcut who now stood in the spot Bada did when you had been practicing with her. Something about her not being part of the dance anymore, even though you perfectly knew this was going to be the plan all along, made you feel even less secure.

You shook your limbs loose, trying to empty your head for the sake of the dancers who were all blind to your inner turmoil and instead incredibly excited to be here. You did not want to waste their time. Once again, you forced yourself into auto pilot. 

The song started playing, bubbling synths building up to your first lines, and you danced. You danced as you had practiced with Bada, but weren’t able to envision the crowd in front of you. Instead you relied on muscle memory, which worked out well enough. Even when the tall guy was behind you for the duet, hips grazing yours, you didn’t feel very aware of your surroundings at all. Sometimes you all had to stop midway when Bada noticed that someone was offbeat or out of position, but you slid back into the moves easily. The team was strong, too. You danced the choreo once, twice, thrice and a fourth time. When you grabbed the guy’s collar, you pushed him back immediately, unlike what you had practiced with Bada, and finished your move.

Bada clapped her hands together with a cheer.

“That was solid, everyone!” She strode over, giving everyone a thumbs up. “Some things we have to smooth over, but we are way ahead on schedule. Let’s take five. I— Are you okay?”

You barely realized your own actions until you felt the warm tears run down your cheeks. You had sat down on the trampoline in such an unceremonious way, body shaking from exertion as you tried to hold back hiccups. Panic began crawling up your body and into your throat. Suddenly aware of the dancers seeing you in such a state, you took your cap off and held it in front of your face.

“Actually, since we are ahead on schedule, let’s make this a short day.” Bada’s authoritative voice declared to the entire room. The dancers nodded along nervously, glancing at your hunched figure with palpable worry. “Great work everyone, make sure to get home safe. Same time tomorrow.” 

You croaked out a soft “Thank you, everyone” through your fingers, but your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t face them.

Footsteps rushed around the room, the dancers gathering their backpacks off the floor. You barely registered the hushed voices slowly echoing further and further away from you, until the door shut with finality; a lock sounding in place and silence reigning over the space.

Bada’s hands came to rest on your shoulders as you felt the trampoline sink with her added weight. Then she pulled you into her arms with a tenderness you had never experienced from anyone before. Your arms tightened around her frame in instinct, dropping your cap onto the floor, and your heart constricting painfully as you hid your face in her chest. 

She didn’t speak as you hiccupped soundlessly, letting the exhaustion pour out of you with quivering shoulders. Bada’s hands traced comforting lines along your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head as she waited for the trembling of your body to subdue. In turn, you tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing lulling you. 

After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?” 

You glanced up at her, tears still running down your cheeks as you choked back a particularly pathetic sob. “I’m sorry…” 

Bada let out an affronted gasp, bringing her hands up to cradle your face instead and letting her thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”

“My team,” You began with a slurred speech, “They still don’t believe in me. They don’t think I can pull this off.” 

Your voice sounded heartbroken: “They make sure to remind me every chance they get. My manager is certain I am going to embarrass the nation, because there is only one thing I can do and it’s not this. I can’t be sexy. I don’t have good ideas. And maybe they’re right! I don’t have the charisma to pull this off. My fans are going to hate it, because it’s not the person they wanted to support—” There was nothing you could do except keep going, like a faucet running, and Bada let you, “—I can’t even wear what I want. My visual board was cybercore inspired. I had a red PVC two piece outfit custom-made, but they put me in a pink dress and ballet shoes.” You added, horrified; not at the clothes, but at the clear disconnect between your team and you.

Bada, who was nodding along to your words with a serious expression up until that point, chuckled at your words, thumbs still catching tears. “Well I always thought you looked like a pretty princess, but that’s indeed a bit on the nose.”

The follow-up to your rant died in your throat, eyes widening at her words. Your brain was short circuiting. “You think I’m pretty?”

The taller girl scoffed at that, brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”

“Why?” You asked, genuinely.

For a moment she gawked at you, deep in thought and searching your face for insincerity. Bada was unable to find it. 

“It’s not the only thing I think of you.”

Something about the atmosphere in the room changed when she spoke, and you almost forgot why you were upset in the first place. She carefully tucked your hair behind your ears, her eyes staring into yours unblinkingly. It reminded you of the way she had looked at you during practice days prior, when you had pulled her close by her collar for the first time. Her attention on you was suffocating, but you were glad to be drowning.

You sucked in your lower lip for a split second, releasing it, and waited with bated breath for her to continue. Her eyes dropped immediately, following your movements. She slid one hand down to the crook of your neck, slowly, the tips of her fingers tracing along your skin and leaving shivers in their wake; her other hand curled under your chin with a loose grip, tilting your head back slightly. Your head felt so heavy you could only lean in closer, wanting more of something you couldn’t even put in words.

But as always with Bada, she seemed to know what you wanted before you could open your mouth and ask for it. She closed the distance, brushing her lips against yours in a soft peck, and it was when you realized she was also holding her breath.

Her thumb trailed along your jawline, breath fanning over your lips. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly. You placed your hands on her thighs to brace yourself, your own lightheadedness overwhelming you, and nodded.

There was a shadow of a smirk on her lips when she kissed you a second time; lips connected with more force this time before gliding together in tandem. She tilted your head to get impossibly closer to you, her hand moving from your chin to tangle her fingers into your hair and cradling the back of your head. When her lips parted and closed around your bottom lip, nipping eagerly, you inadvertently let out a soft noise at the warmth of it all which only seemed to spur her on further. 

You curled your hands into the front of her shirt as her back straightened, crowding around you as if her goal was to subdue, the trampoline creaking underneath your shared weight. She seemed to relish in overpowering you, inhaling sharply through her nose when you parted your mouth for her further.

You felt the tentative prod of her tongue, and accepted. The wetness made you shiver as she swallowed your quiet gasps. The hand that was previously nestled against your neck slid lower, began exploring along the curve of your waist and feeling the bare skin your crop top couldn’t reach to hide.

She parted the kiss, and you let out a soft whine. Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but ultimately failing, her eyes were drinking you in. You could only imagine what you looked like as even Bada was flushed all over, chest heaving from excitement. Then, as if she was reading your mind, her eyes glanced over to the mirror in front of you. 

Bada shifted her position behind you, running her fingers through your hair before ultimately placing her palm against the other side of your waist. Steadily, as if she were correcting a move during practice, she turned your body to face the mirror. At this rate you simply accepted the effect she had on you, and wordlessly obeyed her ministrations. She planted her feet on the floor, long legs on either side of you; and ultimately caged you in, nestling her chin into the crook of your neck. Her eyes never left the mirror.

She brushed some of your hair over your shoulder as if she were propping up a doll, and spoke in a hushed voice: “Look at yourself.” 

The sight made you feel all the more dizzy. Through half-lidded eyes you barely recognized your own reflection; hair slightly mussed and lips swollen and lovebitten. Someone did that to you. Bada did that to you. 

The taller girl, pressed up against you, placed a kiss on your shoulder, fingers running up and down your body and making the hairs on your arms stand straight in exhilaration. You loved the way she touched you, how it made you feel; as if she was tracing the lines on an art piece. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your shoulder, “people would kill to see you like this.” 

The honesty in her voice made something in your stomach roll. “Bada…” You began, but you didn’t even know what you wanted to say.

“You have no idea how other people look at you.” Her hands cradled the small of your waist, fingertips digging into your hips. “So let me show you how they look at you.”

She began kissing up your shoulder, soft and warm presses of her lips, before parting her mouth against your neck with a tangible hunger that left you sighing. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room and every inch you freed, she swarmed eagerly. Her tongue swirled against a patch of skin, hand flattening on your lower stomach as the other traced higher and higher, along your ribcage, before inquisitive fingertips moved under the hem of your top. As she sucked a mark onto your skin, you clenched your thighs together at the familiar sensation between your legs. Your eyes slowly fell shut as she crept up higher, lips pressing right below your earlobe with a barely-there hum.

She whispered: “Keep looking at yourself.”

You obeyed bashfully, right when Bada reattached her lips to your skin. She had been tracing lines along the hem of your sports bra, enthralled with the way you shivered in her grasp, before slipping a hand under; her hand was warm as she kneaded your breast, but your nipples stiffened at the sensation all the same. You pushed out your chest to convey your delectation, and she rewarded you by sinking her teeth into your skin. Suddenly, with a swift movement, both her hands hoisted up the hem of your top and bra, and pulled it upwards, your breasts releasing from its confines. The cold air made them perk up and Bada’s hands cupped the underside.

She detached her lips from your skin with a wet sound before looking up at the mirror, taking you in with her saliva-slicked mouth agape. 

“So pretty,” Bada muttered, bringing your breasts a little higher, “Are you sensitive here?” She wondered loudly before tracing her thumbs right below your nipples. Once again your legs squeezed together, feeling yourself throb from excitement, and Bada picked up on the hint with a wide smile. “You are.”

In your reflection you saw Bada bring her fingers up to your mouth, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip imploringly, and you opened your mouth. She slipped her digit past, pushing it back against your tongue and you sucked obediently. Her eyes were drilling into yours through your reflection, enthralled by how pliant you were under her care. 

You released the digit with a wet ‘pop’ and Bada promptly brought it to your nipple, rubbing it in circular motions as her other hand continued to knead your other breast. A quiet moan escaped you, chest rising into her touch and Bada giggled, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. Your own hands ached to touch her, but she kept you firmly locked between her legs; instead you squeezed her upper thighs, feeling her shapes through the baggy cargo she was sporting. 

“Give me a kiss.” She commanded, and you immediately twisted your neck to capture her lips. 

It was all teeth, wet noises echoing through the room as your tongue swirled against hers; the taller girl groaning into your mouth at the sheer force you exerted. She gave your nipples a pinch before rubbing her fingers over them repeatedly, and she swallowed your breathless moans greedily. You dug your nails into her thighs as she cupped your breasts again, her tongue slipping out of your mouth to trail along your bottom lip instead. Your head was chanting her name, getting drunk on the near delirious attention she gave you. Tilting your head back even further, you connected your lips again even though the angle was uncomfortable. You were starting to feel desperate, hips lightly rocking back against the firmness of her body as Bada sucked down on your tongue.

One of her hands released your breast and trailed down the expanse of your stomach, once again breaking the kiss and instead opt to look at you in the mirror. Her fingers found the knot of your joggers as your eyes met in the reflection, and she pulled on the string; untying it. 

“Okay?” Bada inquired meaningfully, and you nodded much faster than you intended. “Let me hear you say it.” The tone of her voice, which was otherwise so gentle and quiet, made your full body shiver.

“I want it.” You spoke breathlessly, squirming impatiently between her legs as her fingers finally slipped down your pants.

She trailed along the sweatband of your underpants before cupping your heat over the fabric, fingers pressing against your folds inquisitively. Her eyes never left yours, quietly measuring your reactions. Unwittingly your thighs clamped around her wrist, breath hitching in your throat as she began to caress you with a touch so gentle it didn’t fit the precarious position you both were in. 

“You’re so wet.” Bada spoke coyly, smirking at the way your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. She began rubbing circles over your covered folds, feeling your wetness spread as if on command. Your breathing turned into whining, subconsciously grinding back against her hand. 

She removed her hand much to your distress, until you realized what she wanted: Bada began tugging the fabric of both your joggers and underpants down as far as she could, before giving your hip a commanding pat. You raised your hips to assist her ministrations, and she pulled the clothing down past your knees before you kicked them off fully. 

Your thighs were pressed together when you got back in place and suddenly felt self-conscious at how exposed you were despite your own eagerness. Bada wasn’t having it: her eyes were taking in your figure, hands immediately coming down to smooth along your thighs. Then, she squeezed tightly and wrenched your thighs wide apart, making you expose yourself for her. Before you could instinctively close them, her long legs hooked over your ankles, forcefully keeping them in place. All of it only made you throb harder.

“You don’t want to know how often I’ve been thinking about this these past few days.” Her hands smoothing along your sides in marvel, cupping your breasts once more. The tip of her nose pressed against the shell of your ear. “How many times I’ve watched those recordings and imagined you, exactly like this.” Her fingers fit into your mouth once again, and you sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl along the digits as if you were starving for it. “I think I lost count.”

Her confession made you moan around her fingers, shivers running down your spine. She scooted back ever so slightly, pulling your hips back with her unoccupied hand until it was the angle she needed, and then dropped it between your legs. Her fingers spread your folds and she sucked in a breath, completely mesmerized by your reflection. You were still swallowing around her fingers and she hummed encouragingly, hand cupping your vagina and spreading your wetness across your heat. 

She removed her fingers from your mouth and you caught your breath, fingers digging into her upper thighs as you braced yourself. As one hand kept your folds spread, the other, spit-slicked, began rubbing slow circles against you. You gasped at the sensation, mumbling her name in amazement. You raised your hand to the back of her head; grabbing a hold of her braid to simply have a hold of something, but it earned you a particularly sweet noise from the girl behind you. Your hips rocked back against her movements trying to find more friction in the right place, and Bada slowly sped up, moving her wrist up and down to try and find the spot that did it for you. Her lips pressed against the back of your neck so tenderly, and something about the dichotomy between that and the way she was touching you between your legs made your eyes roll back; lids closing as you thrusted back against her hand.

You didn’t understand how she was able to build up to that familiar knot in your stomach so soon, and it almost made you feel embarrassed, until you realized Bada was savoring every second of it. Her eyes never left your form, as if she were studying just another choreography, lips parted in an awestruck way. You had long foregone the urge to keep quiet, vocalizing exactly what she was doing to you: You let a particularly loud moan leave you when she rubbed along your most sensitive spot. Trying to pull more sounds from you, she pressed against your clit with more force and rubbed faster. Your hips could only chase her touch as your lower stomach constricted. 

Bada brought her hand up to her own lips and lapped at her fingers, effectively pausing her motions for a split second and thus drawing a broken whine from you; both because her hand wasn’t where you needed it to be and also because she had no qualms about having you in her mouth. It didn’t last long: she hushed you soothingly as she put her hand back where you felt it belonged and used the added wetness to add faster friction against your clit. Your head rolled back and you tugged at her braid, pulling an attractive groan from the girl behind you.

You weren’t far away anymore. Your lower stomach was unbearably tight with desire and you were a gyrating, frantic mess against her hand while her fingers rubbed against you in vertical swipes, her name falling from your lips repeatedly as if you were reciting a prayer. 

You managed to utter an “I’m close”, and Bada crowded against you before you could start begging her for release. “Come for me.” She demanded, and then immediately captured your mouth in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing together while she drank your sweet moans. 

As if on cue, the tension in your stomach imploded and you gave her braid a sharp pull. You gasped into her mouth, no longer kissing each other but rather breathing each other's air, as your orgasm rippled through you.

You felt your whole body quiver and shake in pleasure as Bada led you through your release, thighs trembling despite the hold the choreographer’s legs had on you. Her fingers hadn’t left your core, but the rubbing slowed down until you were gasping at the overstimulation, yet unwilling to make her hands leave you. As if she read your mind her movements came to a halt, but she pressed her palm against you; almost possessively. She planted kisses along the side of your throat, whispering praises against your skin as you caught your breath.

Once you had the rise and fall of your chest under control, her arms curled around your waist in a fond embrace, and you turned your head to look directly at her. She had already been staring at you, meeting your eyes with a bashful smile. The two of you laughed at each other, and Bada pressed your foreheads together.

“That,” You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you relished in her open affection: “Was amazing, thank you.”

“Was happy to do it.” She responded playfully, rubbing the tip of your noses together affectionately. 

“Will this happen every time I get self-deprecating?”

“I definitely intend to do this more often, but you could also just ask nicely.” Bada retorted with a smirk before pecking your lips. You giggled, putting your hands over hers and leaning back into the embrace.

After several more shared kisses and hushed whispers, both of you decided to get a move on: you were starting to get cold in your exposed state so Bada urged you to get up. She helped you step back in your clothes, a smug self-satisfied grin never leaving her face when she noticed the unsteady wobble in your legs. 

When you pulled your bra and top back over your breasts, Bada pouted. You gave her a playful shove but she caught your arms instead, bringing them around her neck as her own enveloped your waist.

“Wanna grab dinner?” Her eyes were round and hopeful.

“I would love that.” You replied, and gave her a kiss.

As the both of you tidied up the practice room and gathered your things, Bada listing off food suggestions in the background, your eyes slid to the table at the front of the room.

A familiar device remained perched on the edge, a small green light lighting up proudly.

“Hey, Bada.”

“Hm?”

“Camera’s still recording.”

She stumbled over looking mortified, snatching the device off the table and rewinding haphazardly. 

“Oh, fuck.”

[residentflamingo]

Twice Members’ Favorite Places to Kiss You

Twice x fem! reader

Genre: fluff!!

Warnings: so sweet you’ll get a toothache <3

A/N: I have so many good drafts I want to share with you guys, but my motivation has been at 0% because school has been kicking me in the ass 💀✌️ But lately I have been getting a lot better, so more works are expected to come soon! Which also means I will be opening back up my requests box :D Someone did request me to write something a long time ago, and I’ve been steadily working on it over time. It’s got about 3,000 words on it, so as long as my lazy ass doesn’t put it off to writing it, that draft will be coming out soon as well. Thank you to all of you lovely people who have been patient, and also the ones that have been liking my posts. You guys are phenomenal and I love and appreciate all of you ❤️

Nayeon

Lips ♡

A very standard one, but well suitable for her

She loves how soft and plump your lips are

Like Sana, Nayeon is a very affectionate person

So after she’s had a loooong day at the studio, all she wants to do is give you some repetitive and silly kisses that end up in slow and passionate ones

(Sometimes she’ll even bite your lip if she’s feeling a little bit frisky that night…)

“Oh my gosh I missed you so much Y/N. You won’t believe how many new dance routines they made us learn today.”

Her favorite kinds of kisses are good luck kisses and goodnight kisses <3

(And the passionate ones of course ;)

Nayeon loves how sweet it feels to be able to show her love through a kiss, and be able to feel your soft lips in the process

Kissing your lips make her feel grounded, and wanting nothing more than to spend every moment of every day with you

Jeongyeon

Forehead ♡

Very domestic and homey feeling for her

Her kisses are always very sentimental and sweet

She doesn’t kiss as often as other people, which makes the wait worth it every time

“Here honey, you go lay down and rest. I can do the rest of the laundry for you.”

Always kisses you randomly and making sure it catches you off guard

She loves seeing you all flustered and shy <3

Kissing you on the forehead reminds her of being married to you someday, and just being able to protect you from harm

You are everything to her, and she never wants you to feel anything less than that

And if you’re shorter than her, then it’s an even better reason for her to kiss you on the forehead <3

Will also give you the biggest kiss when she comes home from work 🥺

“I missed you so much honey, what have you been up to?”

Momo

Tummy ♡

When you had previously told her about being insecure about your tummy, you never thought she would take it so seriously

But oh boy how wrong you were

It instantly became Momo's favorite place to kiss you

Momo made sure to always remember it so she could prove your insecurities wrong

She loves how soft and chunky your tummy is, and just can't ever get enough of it

Also loves how much you giggle when she kisses you

If you ever have those days where you're not feeling too great, she will start giving you kisses there first and make sure you feel so loved and beautiful

“You are so beautiful Y/N. Don’t you ever forget it.”

“Your stretch marks are not ugly at all honey I promise. They make you look even more gorgeous.”

She will sometimes leave hickies and bite marks there too, but only when she’s in the mood and you give her permission

If you are also pregnant, she will not hesitate to smother your tummy in kisses then too <3

It would be almost impossible for her to keep her hands off of you

Her end goal is to always make you feel loved, and to remind you that you are the most beautiful woman she has ever set her eyes on

Sana

Dimples ♡

We all know Sana is a very affectionate person. So choosing her favorite spot to kiss you would be impossible right?

Nope not at all for her.

The first thing that had drawn her to you was your radiant smile

But the deal breaker was the dimples that came along with it

She just couldn’t get enough of them

Once you guys had been dating for about 3-4 months, you both had gotten very comfortable with each other and started being all lovey dovey and such

That was when you noticed how much she loved to kiss your dimples

Any chance she could get, she made sure to kiss you in that same spot

It never failed to make you blush every time, and that’s part of the reason why she would constantly kiss you there

She also loves how well they compliment your face, and how adorable they make you look

“Y/N have I ever told you how much I love your dimples? They make you look so cute!” *pinches your cheeks*

Jihyo

Cheeks ♡

She doesn’t mind kissing on the lips. She loves it actually, but she just enjoys kissing your cheeks even more

Jihyo’s kisses are the most genuine ones you will ever feel in your entire life

Sometimes it’s hard for her to say how much she loves you outloud, so she’ll express it through her kisses

When you’re having a bad day and come home tired, she’ll wrap her arms around you and give soft pecks on your cheeks

Or when Jihyo has to leave for early morning dance practice, she’ll slowly wake you up by peppering your face with kisses too

It’s just a super sweet gesture for her, and your puffy cheeks are too cute for her to not kiss anyways

She loves the way you blush when she randomly walks up to you and kisses you

Jihyo adores you so much, even if it’s hard for her to say outloud sometimes

When she does, she makes sure it meaningful, and at the perfect time

“I love you so much Y/N. Even if I don’t say it outloud that much, I really do. You’re my world, and I never want you to feel any lesser than that.”

Mina

Nose ♡–-

When you confessed to her that you hated the shape/size of your nose, she made it one of her top priorities to make you feel less insecure about it

Her shy persona may keep her from expressing a lot of things, but it didn’t stop her from showing her affection for you

You were used to her always giving you warm hugs, and very soft kisses on the lips

But when she added your nose to the agenda, it was game over for you

She loves to kiss your nose when you look super cute, and she can’t handle it

Or when you’re doing something sweet for her like washing the dishes, or doing her laundry. She’ll always find a way to pay you back with affection

“Thank you so much baby. You’re so sweet.”

Over time your insecurities had slowly gone away after receiving so much love and support from her, making your nose the very very least of your worries

Having someone like her in your life made you realize that looks weren’t every thing, and that you never have to worry about when you’re with her

“Honey your nose is so cold. *kisses your nose* Here let me kiss it some more so it will feel warmer...”

Dahyun

Hands/ fingers ♡

Dahyun is very loving and sweet

She loves to hold your hand when you two are walking around Seoul together, or just cuddling on the couch

She loves the intimacy it brings between you two

If she doesn't express her love with words at the moment, she will express it with actions

She'll bring your hand up to her lip and pepper your knuckles, fingers, and whatever else with kisses

Something else that she would never admit, is how she loves the softness of your hands

It reminds her of when she was little, and she would hold her mother’s hand

Dahyun wants you to feel loved and adored by her at all times, even if it’s not verbally

When you guys are at restaurants, she will have no shame holding your hand from across the table and kissing it

“Dahyun be careful. People might see us.”

She’ll just laugh and say, “Let them. Nothing will ever stop me from expressing my love for you darling.”

Chaeyoung

Jawline/Neck ♡

We all know Chaeyoung is a big romantic

And can sometimes be a bit flirty with it too

So it’s no surprise that her favorite place to kiss you, would be the most intimate and steamy

Even though it is her favorite spot to kiss you, she doesn’t really kiss there very often

But when she does, she makes sure to go all out

She loves how intimate it is, and loves hearing/ seeing your reaction every time she kisses in that area

Most definitely will leave hickies too, so be aware when she starts going to town down there

“You like it when I kiss you like this baby?”

You can just already see her smirking while saying that…

She loves riling you up and making you melt from her touch <3

Tzuyu

Ears ♡

Tzuyu is a one-of-a-kind woman, and the sweetest one you have ever met

When you guys first started dating you it stayed at the awkward stage for a little bit longer than most couples

But when she started warming up to you, her affection towards you became even greater

It started with little kisses on the nose, then on the cheek, lips, she eventually progressed to your ears

You thought it was weird at first, but you eventually grew to love it

Tzuyu loves to hug you from behind because of the height difference, and she’ll often whisper in your ear how much she loves you

Sometimes she’ll nibble a little bit too after kissing it, but not very often

If you have slightly larger size ears, she would tease you about it every now and then

But not enough to where you would feel insecure

She just thinks your ears are super cute, and make you even more loveable

"I love you so much Y/N... Don't ever change. You are perfect just the way you are."

[hamjwis]

‘Baby say the word and I’ll be yours’

pairing: mark lee x f!reader sypnosis: mutual pining between two hearts that yearn for eachother yet too afraid to just say the word. wc : 1.4k an # been obsessed with requiem lately saur..

It was obvious from the start.

From when you first approached him till your most recent hangout back at his place. Mark knew that you liked him. It may be a bold claim, and it really was.

He knew he couldn’t just assume what others felt or thought about him. But he couldn’t help it. It started with your stuttered words, how you always became this clammy and nervous mess around him. Until you two grew closer and from acquaintances your friendship blossomed into something more intimate.

Mark noticed the extra effort you seem to put it in whenever it came to him. How you force yourself to listen to his rants about beats he conjured in his studio or the latest spiderman theory he had thought while in the shower. Or when you always find the time to come at his call despite your hectic days. Even as simple as how you always choose to eat at that one restaurant he likes despite preferring to stay in the comfort of your home when the night gets chilly.

Can’t read your mind, when all you do is dance on the line

It would drive him insane how you would pull him close and then push him away, letting out words only to take them back. It was tugging on his heart and messing with his mind whether you would mean those subtle touches, those gazes that you would hold a second longer than necessary, the way you would look at him as if he was the prettiest sight your eyes have laid on.

He had no idea if his feelings were just getting into his head or if there really was a deeper meaning behind your words.

“y’know, you look extra handsome today” You pipe up after taking in the details of the boy’s face, the words leaving your lips before you could stop yourself.

Mark could feel his cheeks grow warm as the words you blurt out reach his ears, another one of those remarks that make his heart jump. “yeah? you mean that?”

“why wouldn’t I?”

“you could be messing with me”

A roll of your eyes was all he received as he continued to push away your compliment, taking it as another one of your sarcastic jabs at him.

Of course you weren’t a fool too, you weren’t blind to Mark’s feelings. But there always was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that the fragments of his feelings were only a part of your delusion. Which is why you held yourself back from explicitly admitting your feelings to the boy in front of you.

On fleeting instants, gathering the courage to do so, Mark found himself playing dangerously at the edge of the boundaries of your relationship, calling you baby when he felt brave enough. Though when you question him about it, he would throw an awkward chuckle and say it was because you were 'too childish' and acted like a baby.

Can't read your mind, all I need is a sign

A sign, a single indication was all he needed, was all he was waiting for to finally push forth with what he was feeling. That was the only thing holding him back from letting out the words he longed to say. That was all he was waiting for because he had this feeling, that you long for him too, that you search for his presence in every room you enter.

Mark's heart would race whenever you smaller hand finds his, making up some excuse like 'I don't want to get lost' or 'There's too many people here' just to find a way to keep some touch with him. And he knew that wasn't the real reason you wanted to keep him close, when you would reach an area with lesser people, your grasp would remain tight in his.

Somehow, you would always find a way to stay close to him. Playing with his hair, fiddling with the rings on his fingers, holding his hand and just sitting close to him. And he wasn't complaining at all, hell, he loved it. But he was afraid of your interactions feeding his dreams and delusions that you just might like him back. He often found himself thinking to himself if you were just as touchy with your other friends or if he was receiving some sort of special treatment.

But despite all those apparent gestures, Mark always had a cloud of doubt in his mind.

Say the word, I know what you're thinking but just say it first

It was another one of those nights where you would stay over at Mark’s place, just unwinding after weeks worth of stress and work in the comfortable space of humble abode. The lights were dimmed down, creating this intimate air that surrounds you. Two glasses of wine, both halfway drunk was set on the coffee table. You found yourself setlled comfortably on Mark’s lap, the alcohol in system making your head buzz, blurring out the line between rationality and impulse. Mark’s hand on your thigh felt like it set your skin on fire, but you couldn’t help but yearn for it more.

“something’s on your mind?” Mark’s voice breaks you out of your train of thoughts, bleary eyes traveling up to gaze into his own hazy oned. He looked like he was on the edge of closing his lids, his face nuzzling into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

“do friends do this?”

Your question hangs unanswered for a few moments as the air grows heavier

“do you want to know what I think?” Mark finally replies, his whisper a bit harsh, having a rough edge to it.

And to his question you nodded.

Mark looked like he was bracing himself, contemplating deeply whether he should take the leap after all this time.

“No, friends don’t do this..”

“..they don’t just snuggle with each other the entire night, or wear each other’s clothes or touch each other like we do and call it as being friends. it’s just.. I don’t know.”

He heaves out a heavy sigh before shaking his head.

“Or maybe they do and I’m just looking too deeply into things”

Silence

It was that dense silence against that made his heart thump, making him cower from looking back at you.

“Do you want us to be just friends?”

Your voice was quiet, almost barely a whisper but Mark heard it clearly. His ears perk up and finally lifts his gaze to see you already looking at him, almost unsure but determined. Perhaps it was the alcohol that made your tongue loose or finally dismiss the lingering uncertainty in your minds. But it seemed like you weren’t gonna let this night end without discussing this constant push and pull between the two of you.

“No”

He breathes out, his voice quivering slightly

“I want us to be everything beyond friends”

you let out a soft hum, as if you were contemplating over his words.

"so... best friends?" Mark couldn't hold back the sigh of exasperation that slips his lips, his hand leaving your thigh to card his fingers through his hair "baby, are you being serious?" He felt the lingering annoyance fade away the moment he heard your giggles, the sound you always made when you successfully poke fun at him. "Of course not" A whispy chuckle comes from you as you turn to face him.

"I like you, Mark"

The words felt heavy but they flowed out from you easier than you first thought they would. But your doubt begin to fade as you saw the warm spark in his eyes, his lips quirking into a smile. Mark couldn't find the words to reply with your confession, his body moving faster than his mind as he plants his lips on yours.

Your lips met, a soft brush at first, a tentative exploration of this new territory of hesitance both of you have stepped on. As your lips lingered, the kiss deepened into something more slow and sensual. A warm feeling spread through you, your lips leaving his to catch some air only to be pulled back in. Your hand found his nape, resting on his skin as you keep him closer.

Your chests were heaving when your lips break away for good, the sound of panting fills the room as you try to catch your breath. Mark's cheeks were flushed, her hand moving up to cup your cheek.

"God, I like you too, so fucking much it hurts" He whispers against your lips, his forehead leaning forward to rest on yours.

"I'm all yours baby, you had me from the start, you just had to say the word"

Baby, say the word and I'll be yours

an # tbh idk if this is good (and i kinda think it stinks) but a little story time hueheu I actually got the inspo of writing this because this is how I feel with the guy I like rite neow.. he's confusing the hell out of me but whatever, if I don't get my happy ending at least they will!!

[ghostofthepresent]

Why I think Shiguang can be canonically read as romantic

(I will only be using the donghua for reference, so no Studio Lan retweeting those fanarts (lmao) nor those especially gay manhwa panels (lmao x2) nor even the songs ("chase you to the end of the world, just to say your name once more" my beloved).

It's important to start off by saying that I'm aware Director Li said they ended up not making Lu Guang a girl because they didn't want romance to be seen as a must in Shiguang's relationship by the audience (and because he feels that "bros can have a good heart-to-heart connection with each other"). In my opinion that was a great move since it allows more freedom with how they write them than they'd have otherwise. I also think viewing Shiguang as queerplatonic is a great read too and it doesn't diminish their love for each other nor the importance of their relationship at all.

With that said, despite Director Li's words, there's been things that had me going 🤨 as someone who likes to adhere to canon relationships and read into the writer's intentions, so I wanted to share why I personally see them as romantic.

EPISODE 2

We've all seen this coming, right? Most obvious parallel ever, and in the second episode no less. We all know the similarities between both relationships, so I will just touch on those I consider the most important ones.

Lin Zhen and Yu Xia have gone to college together, and since then decided to start a business of their own - named after a mix of their names. They've been shown as being really close and having no romantic relationships. Lin Zhen also says that Yu Xia's happiness is her own, and then it's shown to us that she's gone through years of unhappiness just for Yu Xia. I believe you can replace their names with Lu Guang's and Cheng Xiaoshi's in your head without me writing all this again. And I'm not even going to get into the most obvious parallels like the special noodle recipe for each pair.

I think it's safe to say that Lin Zhen and Yu Xia are implied to be romantic. From that "one noodle" scene, to the close shot of Lin Zhen grabbing her hand, etc.

Now, I want to get into a writer's point of view and pose two questions:

1. What's the purpose of this episode, when even those which seem episodic connect to the overarching plot of season 1 (even the missing kid's case, as it leads to the involvement with the police)?

2. If we answer the previous question with the conclusion that it's meant to show us the nature/development of Cheng Xiaoshi's and Lu Guang's relationship, what does that say about it?

"Partner" in Link Click

Continuing with episode 2, what really got me thinking about the romantic intentions in their writing was the constant mention of marriage and anything in relation to it.

(may I remind everyone that the driver's comment was said when Cheng Xiaoshi was complaining about Lu Guang lmao)

They're telling us through "show don't tell" (for example, when Lin Zhen kept on eating the noodle despite knowing they'd kiss) and, also, connotations. They are presented to us as business partners, but then the entire episode goes on to tell us that there's more to them by tying their relationship to things percived as romantic. So what they want to really tell us is that beyond simple business partners, they're life-long partners.

And then, after establishing this kind of connotation to the word partner, Cheng Xiaoshi says this to Lu Guang in the next episode:

This doesn't stop at them. While it's the most obvious example, I think partnership in Link Click is intended to be seen as romantic, or at the very least dancing somewhere close to it. Let's go even further and take a look at our fully canon, heterosexual relationships and see briefly how their story is written:

1. Dong Yi and Xu Shanshan: both of them chose the comfort of each other's presence over moving on with their respective futures. Dong Yi had so much faith in their relationship and their love that he couldn't choose a life/future that didn't have Xu Shanshan - choosing to not go back to his family home nor go to that interview, and instead waiting for Xu Shanshan to define their relationship.

2. Liu Siwen and Ouyang: Siwen spent his entire life training with the purpose of getting his father-in-law's respect and marry Ouyang, going every year over and over to fight him. His perseverance and his undying love for her allowed Siwen to do the (seemingly) impossible.

3. Chen Bin and his wife: they're a tragedy. His wife understood Chen Bin the best, enduring feeling lonely because she loved him and wanted a future with him. But their relationship was cut short, so they promised each other to be together in a future life to make up for the time they wouldn't be in this one.

With this + the pictures I attached, it seems like Link Click has set this theme of "love is a life with you" for its romantic relationships, a partner that will fight to stay because they can't see a future that doesn't have their beloved. Going back to episode two, this applies even to the noodle ladies. When Yu Xia remembered what actually matters to her, she went back home - to the start, to her hometown. And, most importantly, to Lin Zhen.

So why is Shiguang romantic? Why aren't they queerplatonic, or just best friends, or bros or whatever else? Because besides what I said at the start of the previous paragraph, Shiguang's relationship mirrors a lot of the romantic ones. Each story and author writes romance and other kinds of relationships differently, portraying them in the way they perceive "this is what this kind of love is like". And beyond life-long partners, I think that the key elements of romantic relationships in Link Click are the ones I highlighted in bold above in the 3 canon relationships part - which Shiguang shares, too.

(I didn't mention this before with the het couples, but I find it a little amusing that season 2 happened because a man wanted to go to the past and get his wife back (still fuck you Qian Jin) and then we find out Lu Guang did go back to the past and got his boyfriend partner back lmao).

"Friend" vs "Partner"

So where is the boundary between platonic and romantic? What marks the difference between a (best) friend and a partner?

There is, for example, Liu Xiao and Li Tianchen's relationship. They aren't shown to have any kind of romantic undertones and there's even the very real possibility of manipulation on Liu Xiao's side. They're also never labeled as nor call each other partners, but instead Li Tianchen says he "met a new friend" and Liu Xiao says he's "going to meet an old friend" years later. So we could say for now that they have a somewhat close relationship (we see Li Tianchen go against Qian Jin to give the phone to Liu Xiao), but never cross that "friend" label.

We can even bring Qiao Ling and the boys' relationship. She's never labeled as a partner despite taking part in the side job and, more importantly, being super close to both of them. She is very important and a cherished friend to Shiguang, so why not call her partner too? I think it's intentional. Since she's been given a familial role already (calling Cheng Xiaoshi her brother when talking to Li Tianxi), she can't fill a partner role. I wonder why? because it's supposed to be a synonym for a romantic relationship. who said that.

So even best friends (Qiao Ling, arguably what Liu Xiao is to Li Tianchen) don't enter this close space that is being a partner. It's different, it's beyond platonic. Or at least that's what they've been showing us for the past two seasons.

I could go soo much more into this honestly, because I do think the little hints thrown here (the music videos) and there (tiny seemingly inconsequential details) are worth to be looked at too, but I wanted to get into the core reason that makes me go "woah so they're In Love fr". I hope I expressed myself well ^^

tldr; the series shows us a divide between having a (best) friend and a partner, giving "partners" romantic connotations.

[mysteriesmuse]

childhood trio izuku, katsuki, and y/n!! who are constantly dragged to each other things! Like, Katsuki and Izuku who both got signed up for T-ball and Pee-Wee Soccer. Katsuki who eventually got good at it and had baseball tournaments every other weekend and your parents are dragging both you and Izuku out to watch Katsuki. The sweetness of a sticky box of crackerjacks and peanuts shared as you spend dozen of weekends sitting together in the stands at his field games with the big pointer finger foam hand and corn dogs — and the everlasting hope of catching a ball. It gets close to happening once or twice, and eventually Katsuki reluctantly gives everyone in his fanclub a signed baseball from the game. It sits proudly on your bookshelves.  Katsuki who in middle school eventually gets recruited to the small wrestling team as well and so now you’re stuck in the van in between these too in the back seat and driving all the way to his other tournaments in a giant sweaty gym. All of you with folders of paperwork in your laps as you dutifully try to complete hw before the match. You and Izuku snickering behind your books as Katsuki complains about a weggie from the uniform being too tight in the crotch. And Izuku, who started winning at spelling bees at an early age; whose ramblings landed him a spot in debate club when he got older. The T-ball never really stuck for him like it did for Kacchan. Who’s got an auditorium full of overachievers and stuffy dressed people staring at their stopwatch’s that are taking down every note. The evenings where there’s a tie being grueling. The early mornings a challenge of wits as you and Katsuki used to pilfer through a dictionary together. Index fingers frantically running over the letters of the words Izuku was trying to spell as your heads nearly bump into each other. The evenings where you’d lay your head on his or your parents shoulders as you tried to stay awake . . . Momma Inko always gently patting the two of you on the shoulders when the debate is over. You and Katsuki rubbings the sleep out of your eyes as you run off to congratulate Izuku. The late night milkshakes in the car as he continue talking about all the exciting little quirks of the game. You nodding along w The hours spent where Izuku would practice his word count at the kitchen table afterschool. You and Katsuki, used to the new routine, now bring headphones to drown out the noise of him practicing his talking so that you both can focus on studying. And y/n who’d gotten signed up for dance classes the same time the boys were busy attempting miniature versions of sports. Eventually sticking with it and finding that she’s naturally talented at looking graceful across the ballet stage. Always having Izuku and Katsuki come out to the performances and sitting with all the parents. The two of them always forced to dress formally like proper audience members and each of them clutching and handing you a bouquet of their own choosing when you arrive from backstage. Izuku’s classic green button up and eagerly handing you a sweetly wrapped ghetto bouquet as he comments on the ballet. Katsuki who comes out in slacks and loafers and sheepishly hands you a classic bouquet of red roses with his sweaty hands. Sometimes even getting you a matching bouquet so you can take photos with it in your costume; a factor you never seem to miss with a gasp and tease. Y/N who’s always preparing for the ballet over at Katsuki’s house. His father taking the time to help prepare your costume and pointe shoes together. The family office (which already was a design studio) now an explosion of ribbons and bubble gum pop as pins and needles do hems and tucks. Your mother and his always taking the time to practice teaching you how to do the makeup and hair yourself. Katsuki will always peak his head into the office to office to announce his presence as you swivel your head and beam from the dress pedalstol.

Y/N who quickly dives into theatre and music. The Suzuki cello lessons taking place for so long that eventually when Katsuki gets signed up for drum lessons the new carpool starts to break your routine. Instead of the usual music that you’re studying your accompanied by Katsuki tapping anxiously with his fingers against his knees. His lessons that take place down the hall so loud that you can hear them in the midst of your scales. And everyday for the first few months when asked how it was you’d grumble and snark out “not really sure it was impossible to hear with the super loud drums next door.” And quickly his lessons require a little bit of piano playing and soon enough the hallway is filled with plinkering notes as he attempts a sonata every Wednesday for 20 minutes.  Eventually he gets good enough that his mother starts pressuring him to accompany your cello playing. And it’s 2 grueling days spent at his house where you’re forced to sit as Katsuki stiffly positions himself at the keyboard and hammers out the accompaniment to your solo. Very quickly the parents learn that this isn’t going to work very well and you and Katsuki go back on your merry way with lessons. Sometimes now you even get a good giggle when hammering along to something only for a drumstick to fly out of his hand. The resulting pause and string of curses simply hilarious from your safe distance.  Y/N who joins theatre and try’s out for the musicals for several years. Whose excitement and participation in captivating performances moves Izuku to join shortly after. Momma Inko packing snacks into your bags as you stay afterschool. Your own parents picking the two of you up and having Izuku over for dinner until Momma Inko gets off of work.  Izuku who’s fantastic at memorizing lines and lyrics that he quickly gets lead roles especially when there’s so few boys in theatre. And you who’s good enough at music and dancing that you’re on the “dance team” which is a special group of students from similiar backgrounds who get to do the more interesting choreography. The two of you a perfect duo of tenor and soprano which means that you can sing out all the songs out of context to your hearts content together. The two of you incredibly enthusiastic the year you do Macbeth because it’s the first time you’ve both landed big roles: Izuku as Banquo and Y/N as the head witch in the play. And now the both of you get to interact together on stage besides just being ensemble and chorus members.

Every rehearsal in costume you get to prance around with a cloak and dare to scare Izuku in the dark backstage. Except he’ll usually silently flinch and then grin with his arms open for an embrace whispering “n/n!” as he beckons you forth, “didn’t know you got back from costume and makeup already. That was super fast. You look good - uh I mean bad. Yeah, bad.” 

And Katsuki’s forced to watch by himself with all of your folks giving y’all a congratulations and handing off another bouquet to you and giving Izuku a playful punch to the shoulder. The parents enthusiastically asking to get pictures of the two of you in costume. 

Y/N with best few photos always ending up on your wall just like the rest of them that you have with the boys after everything you’ve done all these years together. Izuku has his catalogued by year in a scrapbook and Katsuki has his favorite one framed: a photo of you in your ballet outfit and him in his baseball get-up with a fashion disaster Izuku in the middle as he had to dress up for both events. The poor boy slightly sunburnt and covered in a far amount of glitter sandwiched between y’all. 

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Three

Chapter three has arrived! And we have some time with Mingi and Hongjoong in the studio!

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: Studio time with Mingi and Hongjoong, is interesting, plus a surprise appearance from another member of Ateez! wc: 1.7k AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: Angry Joongie and Mingi, yelling, delusional people, anxiety because of said yelling, Hongjoong isn't having any of it masterlist

They all entered the room, finding Mingi sitting in one of the two chairs pulled up to the desk. He waved at them all as the group walked in, y/n being the last to enter. Hongjoong shut the door after she had entered, blocking the staff member from entering. He moved quickly to sit back down in the other empty chair, looking very closely at every one of, as he called it, the lucky group that managed to make it this far. The reactions varied, a couple of the alphas tried to intimidate him right back, though most understood it was better to have as minimal of a reaction as possible.

“You’re here so we can evaluate your vocal abilities. If you don’t bring your best, don’t think you’ll be getting close to the chance at becoming the ninth member of Ateez.” Hongjoong told them, his voice still gruff and unhappy. It made y/n shrink into herself slightly, though she tried to hide her reaction, not wanting this to be perceived by either alpha.

Hongjoong quickly picked one of the alphas to head into the recording booth, as he had already placed the lyrics sheet for the song they’d all be using to test their abilities inside. Allowing a few minutes for the first alpha to warm up, Hongjoong then launched right into testing their vocal range and abilities. It seemed despite their outward confidence, neither idol was impressed by how the alpha was doing inside the booth. Y/n wasn’t sure if it was them being nervous, or if they truly weren’t able to sustain any of the notes, since their voice cracked multiple times during just one run through of Wonderland. She could see that as they continued to try, the two men just became more and more frustrated with their inability to get through the song without any flaws.

“Okay, I think it’s time for you to take a break.” Hongjoong told them, instructing them to come back out of the booth, and sending one of the betas in.

Hongjoong sent the next auditionee inside, hoping that they would be better than the first one. They were better, but they definitely needed more vocal training if they were going to be able to be a part of Ateez. And more stamina, since they seemed to tire easily. He exchanged a glance with Mingi, and could see that the younger man's thoughts were similar to his own.

This was how it went for most of the group, though there were a good few that were amazing vocally, though he wasn’t sure of how they did dance wise, but vocally they would fit the group, and had the ability to hit every single note. That was until they reached one of the last to head in. It was clear from the moment that this alpha walked into the room, that she exuded an air of superiority and arrogance, her confidence was falsely inflated.

She entered the recording booth, and quickly situated herself. “I’m ready.” She told the two men.

Mingi looked over at Hongjoong, but the captain just proceeded to turn on Wonderland, as it was one of the more difficult songs, and after this all not going to plan for the most part, plus his anger at the company being directed in the wrong direction, he wanted to really test out this alpha’s actual skills. He had a hunch that the confidence wasn’t backed by actual skills and not to be stereotypical, but she seemed like a ‘daddy’s money buys everything’ kind of girl.

Hongjoong, as he was most of the time, was correct. She was even worse than the others had been. He was honestly clueless how she even got to this point, other than the thought that daddy dearest paid off whoever was choosing the group that would get to come here. Because while the others had some form of talent, she could barely hold a note, and was almost tone-deaf. He hoped that anyone who had heard her sing was compensated heavily for the damage it caused to their ears. How no one had told her she shouldn’t sing, was beyond him.

“Okay. Stop.” Hongjoong told her, but she continued to sing, intent on finishing the song, and also butchering Jongho’s high note, since that was the next part of the song.

“Stop. It.” He told her again, when she was clearly ignoring him.

“Yah! Hyung told you to stop!” Mingi half shouted into the microphone, shutting off the song so she could no longer hear it.

“I was just about to get to the best part and nail it! Why did you stop!?” She said, and Hongjoong was in disbelief at how she thought she’d nail their maknae’s part when she could barely nail any other part of the song. Though, she clearly was delusional anyways, so it probably was par for the course.

“You have no talent. You would have butchered Jongho’s amazing high note, not nail it.” He was blunt with her, having no patience to sugar coat it. Honestly, did no one actually vet the auditionees before bringing them here? Like the fuck?

She stormed out of the booth, coming chest to chest with Hongjoong as he stood up. Mingi stood up as well, the tall alpha coming to stand behind his pack alpha. He knew his pack alpha was more than capable of defending himself, but he would never hesitate to provide backup.

“You’re obviously wrong, everyone in my life has told me that I am the best singer they’ve heard. You should just get your ears checked.” The female alpha told Hongjoong, and the anger that immediately rolled off of the two idols was felt by everyone else in the room, and y/n who had already been slightly on edge because of Hongjoong’s tone the entire time, was worried that a fight would break out. But she also knew better than to step in to try and break things up. It wouldn’t end well for anyone if she did.

All of the eyes in the room were on the two alphas, and no one dared to speak as they didn’t want two angry alphas at their throat.

“I don’t know who you bribed to get here, or how you are delusional enough to think you are even the slightest bit talented vocally, but you are not. You can leave now. I don’t work with untalented people, and that includes you.”

“Excuse me?” The alpha replied, “Fine. If you don’t want me, then I’ll go to JYP, or SM, or HYBE. They’ll be begging for someone as talented as me to join their companies.” The confidence in her voice was staggering. Y/n couldn’t believe how much she believed in her non-existent talent, but she wished that she could be that delusional. Multiple of the other auditionees had the same thought, they couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

“I’d love to see that. But somehow, I think daddy would be the one paying your way into the smallest companies possible. Besides, I never wanted a new member, none of us did. So if you think you, any of you, are going to just come in and take the spot of a ninth member, you can think again. I want you all gone.” Hongjoong spat, looking at the rest of them halfway through his words.

“Hongjoong-” “Mingi, shut up. You can’t say you had the same reaction to learning about this yesterday. None of us want any of you here, and honestly, you can all go ahead and leave.” The captain finished, anger clear on his face.

“I think it might be best for you all to leave now. I’ll let the staff know we’re done here for today.” Mingi told all of them, trying to lessen the blow that Hongjoong had just delivered.

Y/n was the first to leave, needing to get out of the environment, and that kicked everyone else into motion as well, leaving the two alphas with the delusional alpha in the room. That was until they watched security enter the room and drag her out. No one said a word as they watched her be dragged out while yelling some phrases that even Draco Malfoy wouldn’t dare to say.

They all stood there in the hallway outside of the studio, waiting to see if any of the staff members would show up. Someone did show up, just not who they expected.

“Why are you all waiting out here? Did Hongjoong not let you in?” Seonghwa questioned, looking concerned.

“We kind of got kicked out.” Aaron spoke up, being the one brave enough to do so.

“Why did he kick you out?” Seonghwa said, looking confused.

“He was unhappy, to put it simply.” Aaron replied, and the others, including y/n confirmed his words with nods.

This was when Seonghwa focused his attention on the others, and quickly realized that there was an omega within the group. He quickly moved to put himself in front of y/n, who shyly looked up at him, intimidated by the older omega.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?” He asked her, to which she responded, introducing herself.

“Oh that’s such a cute name. I think you already know who I am, so it’s a little bit of a waste to introduce myself.” He said, smiling down at her. They weren’t that far apart in height, but he still had to look down at her, just a little bit.

“Oh!” He said, suddenly reminded of something, “You should meet Wooyoung. I’m sure you two are close in age, and that little troublemaker always complains about wanting more omega friends.” He told her.

He reached out and grabbed her hand, shocking y/n though Seonghwa doesn’t think much of it, and pulled her away from the group, back down the hall where he came from. “Come on, we’ll go see him now. Plus I’m sure you’ve had a tiring day, if Hongjoong got upset at all of you. So we can go see Wooyoung and introduce the two of you, and then you can relax while I will go and scold my pack alpha for being so aggressive to you and everyone else.”

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[ifonlyitwasmidnight]

And They Were Best Friends

Pairing: Draken x F!Reader x Mitsuya

CW/TW: Hurt/Comfort, Situation-ship without the benefits, Oral F (face sitting) and M receiving/giving, vaginal sex, rough-ish sex (It's Draken, what're we gonna do), swearing, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart, beautiful), nipple play.

Summary: Six years is a long time to dance around your feelings for your two best friends. When you are forced to move out of your apartment, Draken suggests you move in with him and Mitsuya, where things become even more complicated.

Word count: 8.6k

tag list: @awkwardchick87

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At some point in the last five years, Draken and Mitsuya had become permanent fixtures in your life. You couldn’t even pinpoint the moment when people started asking where any of the other sides of your triangle were when you showed up alone or if they showed up somewhere without you. It was to be expected at this point. 

You three simply were.

You can’t remember the last time at least one of them wasn’t crowded into your too-small one-bedroom apartment with you, silently sitting with you while you worked or helping you cook whatever the three of you would be having for dinner that night. 

If it wasn’t your place, you were at the shop when Draken would have to work late, you and Mitsuya keeping him company as the streetlights came on, illuminating the streets in a crimson, orange glow while he pushed to finish up his project. 

Or it was Mitsuya's place when his mom needed someone to watch the girls. Laughter and unbridled joy filtered in and out as the three of you wrangled them in for the night. Others, it was Mitsuya’s loft design studio, you and Draken curled up on the small sofa together, having fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning while the third part of your lives sketched and pinned, needing to get his designs out but still needing you nearby. 

It was somehow domestic.

Outside looking in, people thought it was an odd dynamic—an overly complicated situation of feelings that would eventually lead to heartbreak. 

But to the three of you, it just was. 

In the five years, it had always been simple. Crushes had come and gone, packed down into boxes that couldn’t be opened out of fear of ruining what had become your lives. Mitsuya never missed how Drakens lips turned into a small smile when you entered a room, instantly lighting up the room, even on the darkest days. Draken never failed to recognize the longing in Mitsuya’s when you would push the hair from his eyes as he poured over sketches like Mitsuya wished those touches would linger just a little longer so he could soak in your warmth for just a little longer. 

The two had some unspoken agreement not to push, too wrapped up in the comfort that you all brought to the others, even at the cost of their own fulfillment if that’s what it took. 

They never saw how your eyes would linger on one or the other, wishing that the moments of happiness and friendship they offered could turn into more. They didn’t know that when they would eventually leave you at night, with a hug that lingered a little too long or a look in their eyes like they wished they could stay, you hoped for the same thing, to spend every night in the comfort of their presence, waking up to another day with them. So instead, you listened as their motorcycles would rumble to life and count as the noise slowly turned into the stillness of night once more. 

But just like them, you knew that pushing those lines was out of the question. That one day, you would have to let them go so they could find what they needed outside of you. You would never ask them to choose between you and them. They were the twin dragons, two sides of the same coin, never to be separated, bonded through life and blood. 

Never once did any of you stray from the others. Year after year, settling into a routine that revolved around your complicated situation.

“They’re upping my rent at the beginning of the month,” you groaned one night as you leaned against Draken on the couch in the studio. He had a leg folded up, ankle sitting on top of his knee as he thumbed through an old motorcycle manual you had picked up for him at a thrift store. His other arm slung over the back of the couch, unknowingly drawing little shapes into the bare skin of your shoulder. 

Mitsuya stuck his drawing pen behind his ear and turned on the stool. “Too much?”

You hummed a confirmation. You’d have to move. You rented that place initially because it had been a steal, but recently, it seemed like your rent kept increasing, and your pay kept getting thinner.

“You talk to Peh and Pah?” Draken shut the manual after dog-earing a worn-out, oil-stained page. 

You shook your head, “Not yet. I was going to give them a call in the morning. But from what I could find, I’m probably going to have to move further out of the city.” 

Both men stiffened almost imperceptibly, locking eyes across the room. 

Leaving the city meant you’d be gone from them longer than they’d like, keeping you just out of reach of their protection. Draken felt his stomach sink at the thought of not having you close. Not being able to show up where you are and watch as your eyes lit up, how you’d wrap your much smaller frame into his own as you pressed against him before wrapping you in his arms, hugging you close. 

“I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Mitsuya said softly, lost in his thoughts. “I’ll take you down there and talk to them with you.” The unspoken “we’re not letting you go” passed between the two men. Draken nodded in agreement with the plan and Mitsuya’s resolve. 

Draken sighed heavily and dropped his head back, staring out the skylight in the ceiling, watching as one star in the sky slowly blinked out of existence. “We’ll figure this out, sweetheart.”

You had been out the door the following morning before Mitsuya had even finished pulling up to your apartment, having heard him coming. You knew the sound of their bikes like the back of your hands at this point. It was chilly, the tepid days of fall slowly filtering into the early brisk of winter, and you shivered as Mitsuya kicked down the stand before getting off, leaving the bike running. His face was pinched, his eyebrows scrunched together as he took you in; something was bothering him that he wasn’t ready to voice. 

You raised a hand and wordlessly smoothed your thumb between his brows, relaxing his face. He smiled gently as he reached for the helmet on his bike and placed it on your head, pulling the braid you had secured your hair into over your shoulder before fastening the buckle under your chin. When he was done, he tilted your chin up with a finger, staring into your eyes with a softness you weren’t ready to acknowledge. Something shifted last night when you said you would need to move. Like a leg had been kicked out from the stool, you all sat on precariously, waiting to tumble into the unknown. You felt the pull to Mitsuya now, just as you had felt last night with Draken when he had dropped you off, unable to meet your gaze as he left you at your front door with a lingering hold on your hand, afraid that if he let go, it might be the last time he got to do something that had become part of his ritual for far too long. 

You had almost asked him to stay. 

Mitsuya climbed back on the bike and held out a hand to help you on as he steadied it. You would miss this. He would pull your arms around his waist to secure you to his back before shifting into first and slowly easing out onto the main street. This time felt different. Mitsuya needed to feel your arm around him. Needed to feel you pressed against him where you belonged. 

He and Draken had decided long ago to put their feelings aside for your sake. But the thought of you being gone had tipped something in them both last night. The stupidity of their lack of trust in your relationship coming back to haunt them in their sleepless night and late exchange of texts discussing how they could keep you with them. Mitsuya felt that sting now more than he ever had. 

“So, I’m screwed?” You said thirty minutes later in Peh and Pah’s office as they explained your options. 

There wasn’t much to rent, and buying wasn’t an option. You’d either need roommates to afford rent or, as you thought, you’d have to move further away from the area you had grown to love over the past five years. Your home. The sanctuary that you had built. 

“Basically,” Peh grumbled. 

The other original members of Toman knew what you meant to their brothers but, like everyone else, never mentioned it. However, they all respected what had been built between you, knowing that you were what was needed after their lives of turmoil. Even Pah was up to date after some much-needed explanations from Peh. 

Draken had been silent the whole meeting, leaning up against the wall behind you and Mitsuya with his hands balled into fists, shoved into his pockets. He watched as your shoulders deflated at the realization that your one Hail Mary had failed. 

“What if,” Draken spoke quietly into the somber room, “we all found a place? Together.” 

You whirled in your seat, shock written across your face at the suggestion.

Mitsuya hummed in fake contemplation. He and Draken had filtered the idea around last night, only wanting to offer it to you if needed. They knew your independence—how you liked having your own space. 

“I do need a bigger studio. I keep running out of room, but I’m not ready to move to a whole building yet,” Mitsuya said as if he was thinking aloud. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. Simply a slightly grandiose version of the truth.

You whirled on Mitsuya next, blindsided by their offer. 

“But Inui,” you started as you turned back to Draken. He shrugged.

“The shop is doing well enough that he doesn’t need me to split the cost anymore. Plus, getting away from the guy a little more would be nice. Love him, but….” Draken trailed off with another nonchalant shrug. 

They had already discussed this with Pah and Peh, the possibility of moving the three of you into one place. You could afford it, even if they tried to pick up more of the cost. You loved your job— it was your passion. Even if the compensation wasn’t the best at times, you always made it work, and that was one of the things the Twin Dragons admired about you so much. 

Your mind was reeling. You could… you all could. But would that complicate things? How would you all navigate such tight quarters with the feelings you all had been avoiding? The sealed lid you kept on your feelings for both men slowly unraveled, the stitches fraying from years of being overstuffed with everything you felt. 

Mitsuya looked at Pah and Peh. “Give us a minute?”

Both men quickly exited the room, mumbling something about needing to look at other paperwork anyways.

Draken approached you both, hands still in his pockets. He loomed over you, looking down at you with his eyes bouncing between your face and Mitsuya’s.

“This’ll keep you here, sweetheart,” he said uncharacteristically gently. He walks around the chair you sit in and crouches before you, his hands finally coming from his pockets to rest on your knees. The veins in his hands were more prominent than usual from their clenching.

“Stay with us,” he whispered, a soft plea in the words that cracked your heart. Mitsuya looked on, his turn to stay silent. The words coming from Draken would mean more than his own. No jealousy came with that thought— it was just fact. Draken expressing his need for you in the only way he knew how to would be more powerful than Mitsuya saying the exact same thing. You looked at Mitsuya, and that brilliant smile spread across his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

The part of you that feared what this would mean was won out by your need to keep things the same. The knife slowly tipped sideways as you took your phone from your pocket and emailed your landlord.

This is my 30-day notice to vacate.

Draken and Mitsuya deposited your boxes and bed in the primary room, saying something about how you needed the room with the bathroom connected for your privacy against your insistence that Mitsuya needed the space for his work. Mitsuya waved you off, stating he would claim the office as his own, and that was the end of the discussion. 

Somehow, Pah and Peh had found you a three-bedroom, two-bath with an office and spacious living room a perfect distance from D&D Motors, Mitsuya’s mom's home, and the rest of the prior Toman members. Almost like it was “fate.” By now, you knew better. Mikey had “accidentally” let it slip that they had all been searching for something perfect for you three during the whole debacle. No one in your circle seemed keen on the idea that you would have had to leave them. 

You spent the first night in your new home, settled on the floor together, eating takeout. 

Weeks passed. Then months. That unspoken tension continued to build, swirling around you, waiting for one of you to fall into the torrent of unspoken feelings. Maybe it was just you reading too much into the situation, hoping for something that couldn’t possibly be true. Perhaps it was just them making sure you didn’t have to leave and nothing more. Why would it be, after so long together and the moments you had shared? For everything to change now, to shift into something that had stopped crossing your mind for so long, could be nothing more than the pipedream of your unrequited feelings. What was the possibility of being with them and asking them to share you? 

But you couldn’t deny the attraction to them. You couldn’t resist how Draken would pull you into him after a long day, securing you against his side as you watched a movie. You never stopped Mitsuya from tucking you into him, resting his chin on the crown of your head while he basked in all the things that were you. They didn’t stop you when you crawled into their beds, seeking comfort from a sleepless night, falling into a dreamless, fitless sleep as either one unconsciously wrapped an arm around your waist and held you to their warmth. Nothing stopped any of you from the lingering touches on each other’s bodies as you went about your days, passing each other, seeing Draken off to work in the morning, or bidding Mitsuya good luck as he shut himself in his office for another day.

Soon, hugs turned into cupped cheeks with kisses pressed to your forehead. Fitting sessions turned into long gazes and unspoken words as Mitsuya used your body for his latest design. Trips to D&D became bringing dinner and riding home on the back of Drakens bike instead of with Mitsuya because you missed him a little extra that day. Soon, the muddied waters of what had been the shut box had become black with the things none of you would admit. 

Still, it didn’t stop.

“Are you dating them both?” 

You choked on your drink. Hina had called you earlier, asking if you wanted to meet at the little café near her and Takemitchi’s house. She wasted no time in asking the question that had been on everyone’s mind. She had seen the sly kiss Mitsuya had placed against your temple before he left after waving at Hina.

“I…” you said after you could breathe again. “I don’t really have an answer to that.” Although you probably should at this point.

Neither man pressed you for answers. Nor did you to them. Nothing ever went further than what it had all become. However, you knew at times when either would kindly excuse themselves from the room after being close to you for a little too long, gently putting space between your bodies to hide their need for you. They had discussed it in private when you weren’t home, what this all meant, and how to navigate it. Neither one had answers. All they knew was that you belonged with them, no matter what it looked like. If they spent the rest of their lives pining for you, then that’s what they would do; they had agreed. 

“No one would care if that’s what you’re worried about. You all have been dancing around your feelings for years,” Hina said. She was always straightforward with you. It was her job as your best friend. “We all just want to see you happy.”

Happy. But you were happy. Weren’t you? You chewed on your bottom lip. Thoughts raced through your mind about what could happen if you let go. If you let yourself feel the frightening and unending extent of what Draken and Mitsuya meant to you. It was an abyss with no end, and you never wanted it to.

“They both care for you a lot.” 

You knew that, and you said as much out loud.

“That’s not what worries me. What if it all goes to hell if I let myself go with them?”

Hina placed her chin in her hand and leaned across the table slightly. “Do you want them to be with someone else? It’s been almost six years now. I haven’t seen either one so much as look at another woman the way they look at you. I haven’t seen Draken so content to be around someone since we were teenagers. Mitsuya gravitates to you like you’re the sun in his universe. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve caught him looking for you in a crowded room, and he relaxes as soon as he sees you. Love never looks the same for everyone.”

Love.

A stitch on the box buried within you snapped.

You couldn’t think of them with someone else. The thought churned your insides, making you feel sick. It had never crossed your mind that they might eventually seek someone else out, ready to move into a new phase of their lives. It wasn’t jealousy at the possibility, just an unbridled sadness that sank claws into your heart and refused to let go. 

“What do I do?” You whispered the question, knowing the answer. You were afraid to admit it. Afraid to let it all loose and have it come crashing down around you in a torrent of pain and rejection. You knew logically that their actions spoke the opposite of what you were feeling. They could be feeling the effects of whatever this was just as much as you were and were too afraid to bring it up. But what if it was just a comfort to them?

“What if I’m just a placeholder, Hina?”

She giggled, and you cocked an eyebrow at the fit she had. 

“Six years is a long time to be a placeholder. I think you know what you need to do. We all support you guys. Take a chance. You never know what will happen.” 

The phone only rang once before Mitsuya picked up, and he was back with you before you could buy his and Draken's favorite pastries from the tiny café. 

You nervously pushed at your food that night, churned up by your conversation with Hina. If you didn’t do it now, you were worried that you would lose all resolve and never come back to it, content with how things were—intimidated by the unknown. 

Mitsuya cleared his throat, and your eyes snapped to his. He tilted his head to the side slightly, his way of wordlessly asking if something was wrong. You sighed heavily and placed your utensils down. Draken peeked up at you, alerted to the shift by the heavy puff of your breath, his dark hair falling into his face, still wet from the quick shower he had taken upon arriving home.

“I think we all need to talk.” 

Draken and Mitsuya exchanged a look, knowing what was about to happen.

“I’ll clean up,” Mitsuya said as he rose from the table, reaching for your plate. “Meet you in the living room, ‘kay?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat before standing. Draken held out one of his hands, quickly lacing your fingers together and engulfing your smaller hand in his. His palms were sweaty as he led you to the couch, where you plopped down. He sat in front of you on the floor between your legs and craned his neck back to look at you. You knew what he wanted. 

Your hand carded through his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut as he felt your fingers drag against his skin. He always loved when you’d play with his hair when it was down. Something about the movements felt intimate to him. 

“Everything is going to change. Isn’t it?” You asked softly, breaking the stillness in the room.

“Not if you don’t want it to, but on some level, if this is going where Draken and I think it is, yes. On some level, it will,” Mitsuya answered as he entered the room, taking a spot next to you on the couch, leaning his back against the armrest, and crossing his arms across his chest. He was tense. Eyes full of something that resembled worry. 

“I feel like you guys have been waiting for this conversation to happen for a while.”

“Not so much waiting as hopin’ maybe one day it would happen,” Draken supplied, eyes still shut. He used the excuse of your hands in his hair to avoid looking at you. He knew if he did, any resolve he had built would crumble. His walls he had spent so long refusing to scale, seemed crumbling moment by moment. He had waited so long for this to potentially happen that it felt like a dream. He anticipated waking up at any moment, once again disappointed that he would have to go another day without calling you his. 

“What are we doing here, guys?” You forced the question out after a pregnant pause, hoping one of them would be the one to break it. Your hand glided through Drakens hair that was as dark as the ocean you found yourself in. 

“We’re simply three people living a very complex life together. None of us want to disrupt the peace we have managed to find. I’m gonna be honest with you, though, Princess,” Mitsuya said, leaning forward. “I don’t want to live like this anymore.”

Your heart sank at the words. You didn’t think your heart would instantly shatter at the words you had dreaded. Had you let things go for too long? Had you spent so long denying the way you felt that any chance of saving your relationships was about to go out the window?

Draken opened his eyes as your hands stilled in his hair. Your eyes were lined with tears as your brain went to the darkest place it could find quicker than either could rip you back from falling into it.

“We don’t want to keep dancin’ around how we feel, sweetheart,” Drakens low timber reverberated around the room. 

You looked down at him; it was the first time Draken truly let his walls shatter. You saw it in his eyes, how he felt for you, and the words he couldn’t quite find a way to say. It was all there, hidden in the depths of the swirling blackness that you recognized all too well, as if the depthless abyss you found yourself in at times was him surrounding you. The trickles of light that poked through being Mitsuya. You looked to the other man, and a sad smile worked its way across his delicate features. 

They took your breath away, these men. Each time you looked at them, it was a reminder of how beautiful they both were, from soul to body. Years they had spent by your side, supporting you, fighting for you. Watching and cheering you on as you chase your goals. They had held your hand through the most challenging times and walked beside you, always present. And they knew you had done the same, a steady constant in their lives that they could reach for when they needed you. 

“We know you feel the same, beautiful,” Draken admitted. “Six years is a long time to keep your feelings pushed down.” Your hand carded through his hair once more, a quiet answer to his confession as much as it was one. Because if they knew the depth of what you felt for them, for them both, then that was Drakens way of admitting he understood.

“What does it look like? How can I ask you to share me and be with you both? And what do we tell other people when they ask? At least now an easy “it’s complicated” seems to be enough to stop people from prying,” The questions spilled out of your mouth too quickly, and Mitsuya reached for one of your hands, gripping it tightly.

“Nothing about what we call ourselves or how to respond to people matters. If someone has a way they feel about it, they can keep it to themselves. So we are the only three that matter. And as far as sharing you goes,” a mirthless smirk crept across Mitsuya’s face, and you felt your cheeks flush. “Draken and I are brothers. We’ve been through too much together to let jealousy break us apart. But there would be none if that’s what you’re fear. I’ve watched as he held you for years, and it’s always settled something in me, knowing that you both were happy with each other.”

“Every time Takashi kisses your head, do you know how you sigh and lean into his touch?” Draken asks as he turns between your legs, kneeling before you. Something about the image of Draken knelt between your legs stirred something in you—the stoic, strong, unrelenting man, putting himself in front of you, offering up himself. “I’ve watched it hundreds of times. Each time it puts a tiny smile on your face. Belongin’ to both of us doesn’t mean anything other than that we are both yours.”

You sucked in a shaky breath as a tear slipped from your eyes. Draken caught it before it could fall from your cheek, and you leaned into the touch. A warmth bloomed in his chest at the motion, little sparks of electricity shooting up his arm at the contact. 

“I’ve spent so long keeping it all in check. Refusing to get between you two out of fear. I would never be the reason something comes between you.”

“You’d be the best thing to come between us,” Mitsuya responded quickly. It was something he had thought for years after concluding that he would be okay with sharing you with Draken. No other man was good enough to touch you. None other would be worthy enough to run his hands down your soft skin and hear your bubbling laugh. 

“Lemme kiss you,” Draken whispered, his dark eyes darting between your lips and your eyes. Even if it was once and you realized you couldn’t do it. He would be content for the rest of his life knowing he could taste your lips for a fleeting moment if that were all he was granted. Your tongue poked out between your lips, running along them before you gently bit your lower one. Draken watched each movement, suppressing a groan at the innocent motion. You glanced at Mitsuya, and he nodded. You nodded, and Draken slowly rose onto his knees, placing his hands beside your thighs on the couch before invading your space. The air between you grew thick with each slow movement, giving you time to reconsider and turn away. 

But you didn’t.

With each inch he closed between you, your resolve grew. You wanted to feel his lips against yours. Would they be soft? Would he taste sweet? Or would they be brash and overwhelming like the rest of him in an oh-so-good way? The first touch of his lips to yours was gentle, testing, and teasing—a ghost of a kiss that had you chasing him as he pulled away to gauge your reaction. You reached up and cupped his cheek, pulling him back to you. The kiss was unhurried as he pressed his lips against yours, and you lost yourself in the feeling. 

It was as if the gates you had sealed yourself behind unlocked at the sensation. He was the key that allowed you to let go and be free. You slotted your lips further against his, darting your tongue out between you and running it along his bottom lip, requesting permission. Draken groaned into the kiss, one calloused hand slipping to your thigh, dragging against your bare skin. His skin against yours set you on fire. 

The kiss deepened quickly—tongue dancing with tongue. Teeth bumping as you couldn’t get enough of each other. A fog in your brain promptly settled nothing but the man in front of you breaking through until you felt a hand on your cheek, breaking you away from Draken, and a different set of lips was pressed against yours. Mitsuya was different from Draken. Where Draken took Mitsuya gave. Where Draken devoured, Mitsuya allowed you to lead. He was sweet when Draken tasted of spice. The contrast between the two truly showed just how much they completed each other. 

Your body became aware, every nerve firing simultaneously as Drakens lips met the sensitive skin of your throat, kissing and biting before sucking little marks, marking you as his. He pulled back to look at the marks before pressing closer to you for more, unable to get enough of you now that he could finally touch you the way he had been aching. You didn’t know how you wound up in Mitsuya’s lap with Draken pressed against your back, still kneeling on the floor. 

You were turned once more, Drakens hand cupping your jaw as he pulled your lips back to his, eager to taste you again. He pushed closer against your back, trying to get as much contact with you as possible, and you gasped slightly into the kiss as you felt his erection push against you.

“Ignore it,” he said in between kisses. 

Mitsuya leaned forward to place kisses against your collarbones and neck, leaving his marks against your overly hot flesh. You were overwhelmed by them. They were everywhere. Their hands roamed over your body, leaving nothing untouched as they began to learn you in different ways. 

You didn’t want to ignore it. Mistuya had kept you low enough on his lap that if he was feeling the same as Draken, you couldn’t tell. You wanted to give in to the urges you had for years, fingering yourself in the shower or bed, biting down on anything you could to keep your moans from spilling into the hallway and alerting them to what you were doing. You needed to feel their flesh against your own with no clothes between you.

You reached your hand behind you and gently rubbed it over Draken’s hard cock, and his hips instantly bucked into your hand.

“Fuck,” he let out a strangled moan at the feeling. How often had he dreamt of this? Your hand pressed against him, stroking him to completion, letting his cum spill into your hand that he knew wouldn’t wrap entirely around his girth. 

“Want us to make you feel good, princess?” Mitsuya spoke against the hollow of your ear before nipping your lobe. Your whine against Draken’s lip was the only answer you could provide as he deepened your kiss. Everything they did had you pulsing with need. So long of ignoring how they would send your body into overdrive with a simple touch culminating into this moment when you could finally let go. This feeling was the one you had been missing for so long. And it felt right. To be with them. To have them against you like this. It was the feeling of being so touch-starved for something so magnetic being fulfilled in the way it needed.

You broke from the kiss, sucking down desperate gulps of air. Taking a chance, you pushed your hips against Mitsuya, moaning as the pressure building between your thighs was relieved for a split second, causing the man under you to groan at the sweet sound and friction. He was going to lose himself in you. He did everything he could to keep himself from cumming at the slightest touch. You probably wouldn’t believe it if he told you, but neither man had touched another woman since you came into their lives. Mitsuya gripped your hips tightly, pushing and pulling you along his clothed cock, your foreheads pressed together, breathing mingling as you both panted. Even like this, with the delicious drag of your cunt against him, your orgasm was building. You whimpered as Mitsuya stopped and pulled you off his lap suddenly, having noticed Draken pull away and motion for him to stand you up. 

“What?” You said breathlessly and were quickly answered by Draken pulling off your shorts and panties, tapping you lightly on the thigh to encourage you to step out of them. Your arousal dripped down your thighs, unrestricted by the lack of clothing. He ran a finger through your folds, and your hips twitched as his long, thick finger eagerly sunk into your pussy. 

“So fuckin’ wet,” Draken watched from behind as his finger sunk in and out of your sloppy cunt. Your moans filled the room, and you ground yourself against his hand, looking for more, more, more. 

Draken’s finger pulled from your core, and you grunted in frustration, once again denied of your pleasure. You should have known they would both be teases. Draken laid on his back under you, quickly pulling you down to your knees and positioning you over his mouth, encouraging you to sit. The first swipe of his tongue against you had you seeing stars. Mitsuya lurched forward, once again capturing your lips and swallowing your moans. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good, princess,” Draken’s voice was muffled between your thighs. 

Mitsuya sat back again, a string of saliva connecting you both before it broke, and he wiped it off your chin with a swipe of his thumb. Your eyes were already glossy, lust-blown pupils joining with his own. The lavender of his iris’ was engulfed in darkness as he watched your face contort, and your mouth dropped over at the pleasure Draken was wringing from your body. You reached forward and pulled at his sweats, eager to taste him and feel him heavy against your tongue. 

That smirk returned as he lifted his hips and pushed his sweats and boxers down enough to free his aching cock. The tip was leaking precum, and you instantly leaned forward, licking it from his slit before wrapping your lips around his head and taking him into the hot cavern of your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” Mitsuya bucked up into your mouth. “Slow— fuck, fuck— slow down, beautiful. You’re gonna make me cum if you keep going like that. God damn, you’re so fucking good.” Mitsuya swept your hair from your face, watching as you looked up at him through your lashes, moaning each time his cock disappeared between your lips. Your moans were muffled around him, and each vibration rocketed him towards the edge quicker and quicker.

Draken’s tongue dipped in and out of your pussy before he locked his lips around your clit and sucked, pulling the bud into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it before he would let go and repeat the process. Your hips ground against his face shamelessly, chasing your high, and Draken was more than willing to get you there. Your taste was sweet. Sweeter than he could have ever imagined—he wanted more. He wanted to feel more of your cunt pulsing around his tongue and hear more of your sweet moans. He wanted to hear you scream as you came on his face, riding out your high, bucking your hips as you came down. It was a sound he was growing addicted to quickly. He dipped his tongue back into you, moving his face side to side as his nose bumped against your clit, giving you the stimulation you craved. Your muffled moans grew around Mitsuya’s cock as Draken worked your pussy like an expert. 

Your hand wrapped around Mitsuya’s cock as you popped him from your lips, the sloppy way you were sucking his cock giving you more than enough to stroke him from base to tip as you focused on chasing your orgasm, too overwhelmed to keep sucking him. Which he wasn’t against. He didn’t want to cum down your throat. He wanted to feel your pussy around him when you made him cum with your body for the first time. He had been dangerously close, panting and throwing his head back as his eyes rolled, losing focus as he felt you bob on his cock. It was the best he had ever felt, the years of knowing each other somehow translating into the knowledge of knowing what he liked. 

“Ken, fuck. Ken, don’t stop. Please, please, please,” your begging was sobbed and broken. So close to your orgasm that you could feel it teetering on edge; one final flick of his tongue against your clit, and you were gone. Your orgasm exploded from your body with a loud scream of the man's name who brought you to it leaving your lips, and he drank down every ounce of your release, groaning at the taste and bucking his hips into the air. He almost came from the sound of his name leaving your mouth. Your legs shook on either side of his head, constricting tightly until he tapped your thigh again, and you shakingly forced them open, allowing him to shimmy out from under you and sit up. 

“You did so fuckin’ good for me, baby,” Draken kissed at your neck before starting to pull your shirt, one he realized was his with a little bit of pride, over your head, quickly unhooking your bra. You smiled at the praise, slowly coming down from the earth-shattering orgasm. Mitsuya’s tongue poked out between his lips as he saw your tits, perfect in every way. He reached up and cupped one, loving how it fits in his hand. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it to a taught peak before letting go. You moaned, the slight motion building into overstimulation. 

They rubbed their hands over your body, exploring your curves as your breathing returned to normal. Mitsuya grabbed your sides when your eyes opened and locked with his. He needed you. He needed to feel you wrapped around him. He had managed to calm down enough, determined to get you to cum before he did. He quickly lifted you and placed you back in his lap before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock and rubbing it through your soaked folds. His tip caught on your clit as he did, collecting the wetness before slowly pulling you down on him. 

He looked down to where you were connected, mouth agape as he took in the sight of his cock disappearing into your drenched pussy. His cock was big, longer than girth, but he knew the sting of the stretch was there as he glanced back up at your face, and your eyebrows were pinched together. You both moaned when you were fully seated on him. 

“Oh my god, Taka,” your voice was breathy as you spoke. “You feel so good.” 

He was curved enough that as he gave gentle thrusts into you, you could feel him drag against the sensitive spot tucked against your walls. Each time he did, you relaxed until he could move more freely. Mitsuya angled his hips just enough so that each time he pulled you up and down, the head of his cock would bully that spot over and over. 

“More, Takashi.” His name was a prayer on your lips. His eyes slid shut as he thrust into you, matching each drop of your hips. Your thumb pulled on his chin, forcing him to look at you again. 

“Don’t close ‘em. Wanna see as you fuck me.”

“Holy shit,” Mitsuya breathed, his hips stuttering at your words. 

The couch sank as Draken took up Mitsuya’s original spot, slowly stroking his now-freed cock as he watched. He was mesmerized by the way your tits bounced with each pound Mitsuya pushed into your body. The sound of skin-on-skin mixes with the collective grunts and moans filling the room.

“Play with her tits, Mitsuya.”

Mitsuya instantly complied, returning to his earlier motions of pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers. His mouth latched onto the other, biting gently and sucking it into a taught peak before letting go to blow cold air over it. Mitsuya could feel your pussy pulsing as he pushed you to another orgasm, gripping and tightening around his cock as he bullied his way in.

“You’re so tight,” he said, pulling your breast back into his mouth, moaning against the skin. “Gonna make me cum. Fuck, I’m gonna cum. C’mon, baby. C’mon. C’mon.” 

Mitsuya’s hand snaked between your bodies, pushing his thumb to your clit and rubbing tight circles into it. Your legs trembled as he did. You felt the fiery building sensation as you neared another high, uncaring as your moans grew in volume, too lost in how you felt. Everything Mitsuya did to your body was rushing you towards the edge, every kiss and snap of his hips enough to clear your mind and fuck you until all that was left was him. The twitch of his cock and the falter in the rhythm of his hips were the signs of his impending release. 

“Gonna cum, Takashi. Cum in me, please, please. Wanna feel your cum.”

“Fuuuck,” the word was drawn out from Draken, and he gripped the base of his cock, fending off the orgasm that threatened to spurt from him at your words. 

Mitsuya’s hips stuttered once more, and his eyes met your glazed-over ones as he pulled you down once, twice, three times more, and your pussy pulsed hard, wrapping him in a vice as you came, sending him over the edge as you milked him for all he was worth. Each spurt of cum was pushed into you with a twitching thrust of his hips, forcing it deep into you. Each time a moan was ripped from the back of his throat, guttural and deep. 

You collapsed against him, chest to chest, while you both panted. Not pulling in oxygen quickly enough to replace what you were losing. Mitsuya cupped your cheek, pressing gentle kisses against your lips, and you moaned gently into him. He slowly pulled you off his softening cock with a whimpering moan, unashamed of the sound that left him. He watched his cum leak from your abused cunt and down your thigh. Your body was like jelly as he handed you to Draken, who was waiting, cock rock hard and begging to be buried in you. 

You hummed gently, lifting a hand and carding it through your next new lover's hair. His eyes were soft as he assessed you, looking for any signs of discomfort. 

“Hey, handsome.” 

“Think you can go one more, baby?” Draken gently kissed your jaw, continuing down your neck and back up before slowly locking his lips with yours. He knew your body was worked over. He had waited this long. But, if he needed to wait longer, he gladly would. You reached between you and gripped his cock, pumping once before running your finger over the tip, collecting the precum, and stroking him again. Draken hissed at the contact between his teeth, a sharp intake of air.

Mitsuya chuckled from behind you. “Think that means she’s ready.”

Draken let you line his cock up with your entrance, and you slowly sank down, whimpering at the feel of him, at the stretch that knocked the breath from your lungs. He was bigger than Mitsuya, and you were thankful for the two orgasms they coaxed you to. 

“Take it slow, baby,” Draken said through gritted teeth. “So fucking tight.”

Mitsuya hummed in agreement. Watching as you sank yourself down. Watching your back muscles flex and twitch as you took Draken into your core was intoxicating. Your arms wrapped around the corded muscles of his neck, and you leaned forward, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. It was art, the way he observed you. If he could draw this moment, capture how you looked now, pressed against Draken’s body as his hands flexed on your hips, grounding himself to this universe, he would. 

Draken resisted every urge to thrust himself up into you or pin you to the couch and push your legs to your chest to pound into your tight cunt relentlessly. He wanted you to have this moment. To let you give yourself to him in your way and your time. It was a level of control he could offer you as you bared yourself to him. Draken wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close. He gave a testing thrust of his hips upwards, and you met the motion with a roll of your hips. You pushed up on your knees, and Draken planted his feet on the couch, allowing himself the leverage to thrust up into your gushing pussy. Each time the sloppy sounds of your slick mixed with Mitsuya’s cum spurred him on more.

You could tell he was holding back. His arms trembled with restraint, and each grunt against the skin of your neck was strained, rumbling from deep within his chest. Your hand tangled in the hair at the base of his neck, and you gripped tightly, pulling back with a yank. He gasped, his eyes turning feral. 

“Stop holding back, Draken.” 

A growl burst from his chest, and Mitsuya was moving before either of you, anticipating Draken's movement as he slammed your back onto the couch, capturing your hand between one of his and pinning them above your head. Draken slotted himself back between your thighs, slamming his cock back into you, going deeper than you had ever anticipated. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he started roughly pulling back and sinking into you with a sharp slap of his hips. You hooked a leg around his lower back, angling your hips to allow him to bump up against your g-spot. Tears gathered on your lash line with each thrust. Each choked moan only spurred Draken on as he drank in the sight of you below him, utterly pliant in his hands. 

“Such a good fuckin’ girl. Taking our cocks so well,” Drakens words fell from his lips mindlessly, unable to hold them back any longer. “Want me to fill you up, baby? Wanna feel my cum in there with Takashi’s and watch it drip outta your pretty cunt. Our pretty cunt.” 

His words were music to your ears, bouncing around in your empty head and filling it with the image of what he described. You never wanted anything more. To be marked by these two men, pumped full of their cum, staking the claim on you that they had spent so many years imagining. 

Mitsuya’s eyes were glued to your face, and he resisted the urge to stroke his cock as it twitched to life once more. He watched as your moans grew into silent screams, unable to let out anything more than gasps of air each time Drakens hips slammed against yours. He watched as your eyes rolled back once more and your chest arched off the couch, and your legs shook, quickly realizing these were the signs that you were about to cum. The sharp intake of breath from Draken confirmed as your pussy gripped him tighter, sucking him in deeper, begging for more, more, more, just as your vision whited out and you came with a muted cry. 

“Fuck. That’s it, sweetheart. So. Fucking. Tight.” Every word was accentuated with a thrust, coaxing you through your high until he finally stilled, body shaking as he let go, letting his orgasm ripple up his back. Spurt after spurt of hot cum emptied into you, stuffing you impossibly full. Draken pushed his forehead to yours, rubbing at your wrists where he held them as he panted, eyes shut and hair sticking to his face. He gently eased out of you once his cock had softened, and the mixture of your, his, and Mitsuya’s cum leaked from your abused hole. He ran two fingers through it, pushing it back in, smirking as you whimpered at the touch.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Mitsuya lamented beside you as he tapped Draken’s shoulder with a cold water bottle. You didn’t know when he had disappeared and returned just as quickly. His sweats were back in their place, and his shirt was gone. You took a moment to soak in the sight while Draken pulled you up and into his lap, holding you close against his sweat-slick body. Mitsuya opened the top of your water bottle and handed it to you. The cold liquid was a balm to your horde throat, raw and overused from the screams and moans. 

“You did so well, Princess,” Mitsuya said against the crown of your head as he pressed his lips to it. 

Draken grunted in agreement, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent was a mix of your own and theirs now. In a primal way, some part of him preened at the smell. 

You were finally theirs. 

Draken had never been so sure of something in his life that this was how it was meant to be. 

Mitsuya held your hand tightly as you walked down the street, heading toward D&D Motors. Mikey had called your boyfriend earlier, a giggle in his voice as he asked you to meet him at the shop. Mitsuya had rolled his eyes when the call ended, unphased by Mikey’s antics and dreading what he could be planning. Draken had also gotten the call, annoyed that he would be going into the shop on his day off. 

You glanced down at your phone as it buzzed in your freehand.

“Oh, Draken just got there. He said he’s going to wait for us out front.”

You turned the corner a few moments later and skipped a little as you saw Draken standing there, hands tucked tightly into his pockets. Mitsuya let your hand slip from his as you rushed forward, flinging yourself into the bigger man's arms, and he oofed as he steadied himself with a step back at your force. 

“Hey, baby. Miss me?” 

You pressed a kiss to his lips as you nodded. He had been out running errands all morning, picking up parts for customers, and visiting other shops in the area. 

“What does Mikey have planned?”

Draken rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Mitsuya finally closed the distance between you at his leisure pace. “Hell only knows with him.”

The bell over the door jingled as Draken pushed it open. The shop was dark as you entered and looked around. You did see anyone.

“Yo! Mikey!” Draken called into the shop.

“Back here, Ken-chin!” His best friend yelled back from where all the parks were parked. Mitsuya cocked an eyebrow at you both before leading the way. 

You all pulled to a stop when you saw all your friends crowded into the area and a banned over their heads that read, “It’s About Damn Time!” 

[bluemari23]

main masterlist

this is going to be my main masterlist where everything is going to be organized☺️

I write for whichever member I choose to. this is my blog and I reserve the right to write whatever I wish.

IMAGINES

SEVENTEEN

8:32 | choi seungcheol

where you feel insecure during a cuddly morning with your boyfriend

lemon tart | choi seungcheol

a new cafe for a much needed date brings out tons of giggles and plenty of kisses

soul glow | choi seungcheol

you attended your first concert, waiting a long time to see your ult group perform. unable to recognize a soul bond taking place, you leave early, leaving seungcheol to scramble to find you.

soul haze || choi seungcheol

soul glow pt.2

you had just gotten home after leaving the seventeen concert early, only for your phone to start ringing with what you think is the biggest joke of the century. it turns out, that maybe you left too early.

anything for you | choi seungcheol

where he can tell your feelings are becoming too much again and he decides to keep you with him for the day

new _world || choi seungcheol

the night of your 18th birthday left nothing to be desired; waking up to no hint of any soul bond left you one of the unbonded. almost eight years later, however, you find out that you are very much not unbonded, and that your soulmate is someone who you admire. very much.

darl+ing you || choi seungcheol

new _world pt 2

You were on your way to South Korea, leaving your life behind to follow your soulmate back home. Your anxiety runs amok, and Seungcheol tries his best to get to know you better.

don't wanna cry || choi seungcheol

you had been ignored and neglected again, on the night of your soul bond anniversary. you were tired and felt defeated. and it took just that for your soulmate to snap out of his funk and remind you of why you were soulmates.

sparkling || choi seungcheol

literally falling for your soulmate was not what you had in mind when you got up for your first day of work that morning.

BTS

muscle tension | park jimin

you feel a little stressed after a family visit and your husband helps relieve some tension

cake cake cake | jeon jungkook

 your boyfriend eats the cake for a party and thinks he can get away with it

hey soulmate | min yoongi

your first day on the job doesn’t turn out the exact way you envisioned

inspiration | min yoongi

you had been called to your soulmates studio for "inspiration" and walked into an unexpected but not unwelcomed situation

remember our touch || bangtan

you try to push away your bad memories and your soulmates help you replace them with good ones.

ATEEZ

warm and soft | kim hongjoong

your soulmate knows exactly what to do when he can tell your stuck in your head, needing to just feel him against you.

dancing like butterfly wings || park seonghwa

you’ve been feeling a little down lately as you experience another flare up, and not wanting to feel like a burden, you try to to hide it from your soulmate.

festival love || kim hongjoong

 you wait patiently for your soulmate to finish his practice rehearsal for the famous festival so you can go spend the day together before his performance. Things don’t necessarily go as planned but everything turns out alright in the end.

dazzling light || kim hongjoong

your soul bond activates at a concert and you seriously doubt your actually going to be able to meet them, not when they are on the stage and more than likely can't see the soul light that surrounds you.

HEADCANONS

BOYFRIEND BTS

bts and how they would kiss their s/o

bts and the place they like to kiss you the most

bts and how they would react to being jealous

bts and how they would react to their s/o being shy with other people

bts members and how they would react to their foreign s/o being the 8th member of bts (poly)

bts members and how they would react to their non-idol s/o (poly)

bts and how they would react to their s/o falling asleep in their lap

bts and how they react to their s/o's natural hourglass figure

bts and how they react to their small/petite s/o

bts and how they would ask you out after you've been friends for a while

bts and how they would react to their girlfriend trying to hide their pots flare up

bts and how they react to your niece/nephew saying their name

bts members and how they would love their plus-size s/o

bts when their independent soulmate suddenly wants to be babied

hybrid!bts when they are clingy with their mate

bts: sacrifice you or the world

BOYFRIEND SEVENTEEN

bf!seungcheol and how he loves his plus-size s/o

© 2024 bluemari23. All rights reserved. 

These works nor any part of their content may be republished, reproduced, translated or used in any manner without the express permission of purpleyoonn. These are works of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. 

[loveforquanrui]

the love I hold for you

제로베이스원 - jebewon as things they would definitely do as boyfriends!, gn reader. i dont think there is any disclaimers but let me know if i missed any!

-jiwoong-

showing a different side of himself

would show his true authentic self with you <3

would be really protective of you

since he wants to show he cares without being too "obvious" he would also over offer his help

but its so cute so it cancels out!

would care and love you so much

-hao-

introverted but clingly with you

hao is an introvert as we can all tell, and may need space but never from you

when he's tired, he would find so much comfort in your presence

constantly wants to be around you even if you guys aren't talking he just loves knowing you are there

you are his favorite

he chooses you over anyone else

-hanbin-

planning dates in advanced every week

hear me out in this, hanbin is an observer

he would allow you to plan the first few dates, and in those dates he is taking mental notes of your likes and dislikes

now he will tell you, he wants to plan the following dates

and from then on its funnn

he would take you to many new places like a art gallery or even invite you to his dance studio as a fun date

somehow hanbin will always think of something different for a date idea

-matthew-

teach you how to play video games

i know we all saw this man play league of legends now-

i have a feeling he would try to get his s/o into gaming

he would try to teach you how to play, and he is very patient

since he wants you to play with him, he is willing to spend some time teaching and training you to play these games

he takes it very seriously too

if you ended up not liking the game he would try to find another game that you'd like

regardless if he's not into that game, he would learn how to play it just for you <3

-taerae-

perform for you

strong believer in simp taerae

he would be so deeply in love with his s/o that sometimes they are above himself

if you are anxious, he would sing your favorite song to calm you down

if you are trying to fall asleep, he would play a calming tune in his guitar until you are fast asleep

feeling bummed out, no worries, taerae is dancing the newest tiktok trend for you!

this man will perform for you anytimes if it will make you smile

if you wanted to film a little dance video he would do it proudly

ahh taerae is such a cutie :'(

-ricky-

attention seeking and physical touch

hear me out ricky can sometimes be dismissive

although he clearly cares about other i think the baby cat has some trouble expressing it sometimes

since ricky would struggle to tell you he loves you sometimes he would be surprisingly very cuddly?

he would want to constantly have his arms around you even if he wasn't speaking to you

small gestures like cuddling or holding your hand are a big deal to him

its his way of showing his love

he would also seek your attention in the same way

he has very grabby hands constantly wanting your attention without actually saying it

-gyuvin-

carrying extra items for you

gyuvin is a goofy guy but he is also always taking mental notes of you

he would notice your favorite snacks and items you constantly use

he secretly carries your favorite snacks in his backpack

in his backpack there is chapstick, germx, and much more items you use on the daily

you would say "i'm really craving __" and all of a sudden he pulls out the snack from his backpack

needless to say gyuvin is prepared for anything you might need

-gunwook-

have a photo album dedicated of pictures of you

gunwook adores you

sometimes you catch him just starring at you deeply with a smile plastered on his space

he just loves looking at your face, as its a boost of serotonin for him

since he realized how happy it makes him, he takes about 3 pictures of you

sometimes you don't even know he is taking pictures, yet you still come out looking so good

and when he is in a bad mood or simply misses you he would go to his album titles Y/N and just look over all the pictures

he would be so smiley and thankful to have such a partner in his life

-yujin-

get you flowers at the right times

yujin would love getting you flowers

he knows how happy it can make you so he always gets you flowers

yet unbeknown to you he actually always steals one flower from the bouquet he buys

why?

because that way he knows when he needs to get you more flowers

of course he doesn't tell you this, since he wants to be seen as cool

but it's a sweet gesture that he loves doing <3

ahhh guys I did not post as much as I wanted to for a bit. Buttt i hope you enjoyed this. Let me know if you would like a part two or even a fic. Don't forget my asks are always open not just for request but also for any questions or just talks you want to have <3

[costinblazetwice]

Momo and The Scent In The Dance Room

Male Reader X Momo

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: The inspiration for this was to give more attention to the scents/smell of smut activities which I believe to be the most neglected of the 5 senses in writings, including my own. I could see why as it’s difficult, and often a bit too raw and dirty to write out but I enjoyed the writing this one, finding it a good challenge. If you have any thoughts or feedback I’d love to hear from you.

Also Happy Late Birthday Momo you are the cutest 🍑 in the world!

Scent is the most under appreciated of all the senses in the act of sex. Now you and your girlfriend Hirai Momo were guilty of also ignoring this powerful sense, focusing more on the touch, sight, taste, and hearing when alone in your bedroom.

But this all changed the night you stayed behind with Momo at the dance studio, you and your girlfriend shifting between different positions, bodies moving on instinct to the music being played on the speakers. The sound of your guys’s sneakers squeaking on the wooden floor blended in with the pop song being played loudly as the two of you moved to the rhythm, eyes on your own reflections in the gigantic mirror in front of you.

You were a couple of steps behind of course, which should be expected as your girlfriend is the dancing queen. But what surprises you most is how her speed hasn’t slowed at all despite the overwhelming heat in the room. Raising the temperature to such levels was her idea, some days choosing to keep it very cool and on this day very warm. This was Momo’s way of really pushing her body, making sure she has the ability to dance regardless of temperature.

“No more, I need a break,” you pant over the music. Momo doesn’t hear you or maybe she does but doesn’t acknowledge, her eyes still on her reflection and caught in a trance as her body grooves to the beat.

As you rest your back on the corner of the wall you take the chance to observe your charming girlfriend. She’s wearing a regular pare of sweats but what catches your eyes is how drenched her ass is from all the sweating and how you could make out the lines of her panties underneath. It didn’t help that she has a visible wedgie, her panties and pants having their fabric pulled into her ass, something that some may find embarrassing to watch but you find rousing. It is quite common in explosive dancing for your under garments to find themselves in uncomfortable positions and adjusting it continuously could become a hassle, so just leaving it be until after the session is over isn’t a bad idea.

Your eyes then move to the mirror where you see her reflection, watching attentively as the dance choreography involves a lot of lifting of the arms which allows you to catch continuous sights of her underarms, completely drenched with sweat and glistening under the light of the dance studio.

She was so seductive in these moments and watching her in her element like this, a sweaty and dirty mess that she was made it hard to turn away the dirty thoughts that were appearing.

The music finally comes to an end and Momo bends down resting her hands on her knees, sweat drops dripping from the tip of her nose, abs soaked as well with her navel visible from the tank top she’s wearing, abs tightening as she takes sharp intakes of air.

At this point the yearning for your girlfriend increases, you becoming more eager to quench this thirst that no doubt has been made in part by the rousing heat in the room, your body wanting nothing more than to cool down by removing your clothing and preferably hers as well.

“Ah, that was good,” Momo huffs as she picks herself up. “We’ve been going at it for a few hours now. I think that should be good.”

“I didn’t know this is what you go through each day,” you comment as you wave your shirt back and forth trying to find some coolness in this heat.

“I thought I’d make it extra rough since you wanted to join in today,” she teases, walking over to the wooden table by the doors entrance, pausing her phone to prevent the next song from being played.

Her back is turned to you as you watch with your heart racing, her bra strap visible from under her top, the drenched sweatpants, and the bitter scent in the air of her and your sweat combined made for a tantalizing experience. Maybe it was the pheromones that were guiding you but either way you bring yourself over to her, caressing her ass with your hands as you pressed light kisses to her neck.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind doing something else that’s a bit rough,” you whisper into Momo’s ear as her eyes flutter, a low moan escaping her lips as you can see clearly she’s in heat herself and wants you just as bad despite not showing any clear signs earlier in the day, but then again you do know of Momo’s habit. Sometimes she’d watch you when you didn’t know, mesmerized by the way you move, your smile, and by the overall energy you bring. You typically wouldn’t even know about it until the clothes came off and you two would engage in some pillow talk.

“I-It’s getting late… and besides, this is the trainees room,” she stutters out unconvincingly as you know she wants this just as bad as you do. This was her way of playing tease, push and pull.

“The windows are tinted,” you grunt in her ear, tongue cleaning up some of the sweat on her shoulders but ends up making it a bit more messy. “And besides it’s late at night. It’s probably just you and me in the building. You’ve got the keys, no?” Turning her around so she now faces you, smirking when she gives a reluctant nod with eyes fluttering, her face reddened and her lower lip quivering.

“You’re just so fuckable,” you whisper as you bring your lips onto hers, initiating the first romantic encounter you two have had all day, knowing just how much Momo was aching for this as well. She was a homebody after all and loved being alone in your embrace, sometimes just watching tv with your cock warming her core or yours fingers lightly rubbing her cunt as you laid in bed after a tiring day.

Not being able to touch you all day as she was focused on her dance routine and on giving you the dancing experience made her an erotic mess, the anticipation building within her for this moment. Momo gets extremely horny on the days she does her intense exercise routines.

She knew what she was doing of course when she’d flash you her backside throughout the day, clear visible lines of her panties moistened and being pulled into her ass, her towel completely dry as she hadn’t bothered wiping off the sweat that had accumulated knowing you had your eyes on her throughout the day.

You guys had you lips locked, Momo being the first one to slip in her tongue, showing that despite the initial protest she was more than willing to help push the pace.

You and Momo stand in the middle of the room, tongue to tongue with your bodies pressed to each other. You can feel the sweat off Momo’s damp clothing as you press to each other, the sweat proof of the physical work the two of you have been putting in for the last few hours.

You tug at Momo’s tank as she raises her arms giving you room to pull it off, though it takes some tugging as it sticks to her body, the material of the shirt hugging at her due to the excess sweat. She tugs at yours as well as you break the kiss, throwing your own shirt off to speed up the process. Momo steps back and begins to unclasp her black bra, dropping to the ground as she lightly kicks it to the side.

“In a rush are we?” You tease as she rolls her eyes, your eyes glued to her full breasts with their firmness in shape, the nipples a bright pink which slowly harden from the sudden exposure out of her bra. She bends down to deal with her sneakers and you get the full view of her drenched cleavage where the sweat looks to have built up, tiny individual drops rolling down ever so slowly and coming into contact with her areola before dripping to the ground. Your desire to have your mouth nibble at her perfect perky pink nipples leaves you with a growing bulge in your sweatpants.

You proceed to quickly tear off your own undergarments, tossing them to the side and not even taking the time to untie your shoes properly, instead opting to rip them off roughly and toss them anywhere that wasn’t directly in front of you.

You were left in your birthday suit, your massive erection pointing directly in Momo’s direction who has her shoes and socks off, but struggles with the sweatpants which stick to her toned legs as did the tank to her upper body earlier. The sweatpants turns inside out as she forcefully removes it off her feet, the inside of the sweatpants showing small patches of sweat that had built up over the dance session. You don’t opt to help her with removing her clothing, but rather stand there stroking your cock slowly, pre cum beginning to droop on your palm leading to the head of your cock to become quite sensitive as the liquid sticks to the tip.

This was a a sight you wanted to savor, your beautiful girlfriend a sweaty mess trying her quickest to get her clothes off so she could be stretched by you.

Just watching made your mouth dry despite the recent mouth-watering tongue to tongue action you two had when you were tongue deep in her mouth and vice versa. You watch as your girlfriend slowly takes her panties off with the wetness from between her crotch sticking to the fabric of the panties, breaking apart the further she pulls them down before she tosses them aside where they land next to her bra. There was a very obvious patch of her juices covering the area where the cunt sits on her panties and you were definitely going to find an excuse to keep those for later.

You walk slowly to Momo, hands immediately caressing her backside as your mouth crashed with hers, no longer dry as your tongues swirl in each others mouth, breath hitching between you two as you both need to break to take a sharp intake of breath. “Are you trying to eat my mouth?” She says playfully in between the kiss and all you can do is grunt in response, finding the taste of her mouth ecstatic and the sound of your entangled tongues lewd and lascivious. Your cock rested on her stomach causing the tip of your throbbing penis with its growing precum to touch her abs, causing a jolt to run through you due to the sensitivity of your cock’s head, your precum sitting nicely atop her naval area.

As you pull away you’re suddenly reminded of the dance practice where your eyes were pulled to her armpits. How nice they looked every time they were exposed and how you, in that moment, understood why some people really find armpits very attractive. Might as well give it a try.

You lift her arms up as she looks at you confusingly with a pout and her brows furrowed, pressing your tongue against her glistening armpit as she lets out a cry, not expecting the sudden sensation.

“N-not there babe,” Momo sighs as you let your tongue lather her underarm, Momo fidgeting under the ticklish touch of your tongue. This was a completely new experience for the two of you. The thought of eating her armpit out as though it was her cunt was never something that really crossed your mind but the way it was saturated with sweat as she danced just looked so… beautiful.

It doesn’t make sense, but then again it’s late at night in a dance studio and you two are naked in a room brimming with humidity. Now was not the time to worry about being “normal.”

Momo squirms as you continue to flicker your tongue at her armpit. Your other hand slides down Momo’s abdomen until you reach her cunt, using your fingers to rub at her folds as her whimpers now become drawn out moans, her hips bucking as the pace with which you rub her sensitive area hits a frantic pace.

Her armpit itself was smooth with there being a salty taste to it, unsurprising as it was where the sweat had built up throughout the dance practice.

You could feel your hands moistened from her cum as you finally pull yourself off of her underarm, gauging Momo’s reaction to see how she took that sudden fondling. Her red lipstick was slightly smeared with the plumpness of her lips sharing a resemblance with her throbbing pussy lips which itself was heavy with arousal, hair a disheveled mess with her bangs sticking to her forehead messily, and breathing heavy with her knees lightly trembling from the pleasure. You took that as a very good sign.

“That’s off the bucket list,” you joke as Momo responds with “Never knew you wanted to fuck my armpits.”

“Neither did I,” you whisper to yourself, surprised at you own sudden attraction to her underarm.

“Wait a second babe, I’m sweating up a storm here,” Momo says breaking the hold you had on her to make her way to the thermometer on the other side of the room when you stopped her, grabbing her by the wrists and turning her around. You wrap your arms around her legs before lifting Momo up as she lets out a shuddering cry at suddenly being lifted in the air.

“It’s kinda nice like it is, don’t you think? Makes this more hot, figuratively and literally,” You ask as you see her pull a sheepish smile while shaking her head, probably thinking how big of a perv you are but knowing that she was one too deep down.

With that reassurance Momo wraps her legs around your waist as you walk over to the long table where your phones and other gadgets sit and set her down.

Momo’s bare cheeks on the table causes a chill to run through her body as you spread her legs, bending down and planting a trail of kisses along Momo’s inner thighs, taking your time to get to her pretty pink pussy.

It’s a much dirtier scent than that of which you’re used to when having sex with a clean bathed Momo who typically smells of her peach creams and high end perfumes.

This on the other hand is more erotic and defiled, a scent of a woman who is at her most raw and most dirty, who has spent the last few hours engaging in intense bodily work which is responsible for this bitter scent which you find utterly arousing. It’s a musky smell that is quite strong on the nose, a bitter tinge to it but you find yourself loving even this part of your dancing queen girlfriend. This smell is raw, more carnal and frankly for some, maybe even gross.

This is the reality of sex outside of scented perfumes and shampoos. This is an unclean eroticism, the dirtiness of it feeling deeply primal. Momo herself doesn’t seem to care or worry that her scent may be coming off as more harsh than usual as her mind is simply on the toe curling pleasure that you are putting her through. And you don’t care either as you find the scent intoxicating and this entire situation exciting, wanting nothing more than to ravish Momo as though you two were wild animals wanting to engage in each others body in their most dirty state.

You press your mouth to her cunt and immediately taste the zesty and salty pussyfolds that are lubricated with her juices but also moist from sweat. “Fuck baby, do it like you always do,” Momo groans as her hands begin to softly tug at your dampened hair.

“Of course, love. I know just how you like it.”

First you inhale and then blow at her cunt, causing her to squirm at the sudden cool air and causing her to let out a whimper, her legs tapping quickly on the wooden floor, loving the feeling as goosebumps being to appear throughout her body. You lift her legs up so they’re now resting on your shoulders to give you deepest access to her folds. First you nibble at her clit, sucking on it as your fingers pump her inside, your hand moistened more and more each time you plunge in and out.

“Keep going babe,” Momo begs and you continue to give her what she wants. You trace around Momo’s pussy with your tongue, the salty taste being quite strong to swallow but you don’t mind in your current state of impassioned ecstasy. You take time to tease her as well, taking your mouth off of her lower lips and instead using your tongue to lap at her inner thighs.

“Not right now, Y/N,” she whines as you smile to yourself while nibbling the inside of her thigh before returning to the intoxicatingly musky cunt in front of you.

You let your tongue rest just above the clit where her neatly trimmed hair sits, now a disheveled mess from being drenched in sweat, and proceed to go up and down in a completely straight line as your tongue lathers up her sex, Momo letting out desperate, filthy noises in response. You go low enough to where your tongue is now lightly brushing against her taint. You flick at it, letting the tangy scent so close to her nether area intoxicate you with its strong aroma. Momo can only let out soft whimpers in response.

Now you return to her swollen cunt where you part her lips and stick your tongue into her hole, starting off slow and controlled before going frenetic, licking up and down the entire cunt, even the very few trimmed hair she has down there getting caught up in your frantic pace.

“Fuck baby just like that,” Momo moans having her hands in your sweaty hair, gently pushing your face closer to her sex as she grinds her hips into your mouth. When Momo grinds into your face with her hips like that you know she’s getting desperate, wanting you to use your tongue to go deeper, make her pussy a sloppy mess.

You include your fingers as well, pumping her inner hole as your let your tongue nip at her bud that has slightly swelled due to arousal. Her wet juices and the sweat mix together to create a torrent of wetness that engulfs your fingers. Each time you pull out your finger it’s more damp than before, the wetness from her slit steadily increasing in quantity.

You lift yourself up, immediately crashing your lips onto hers, giving her the opportunity to taste herself, a little kink you know she has. Something about the idea of tasting herself always turned her on and the fact that the mediator is you makes it even better.

Tongues collide and you stay in this position allowing Momo to taste the lewdness of her most precious area. She moans into it and grabs the back of your neck with one hand, the other helping her keep balance as she leans back slightly on the table, desperate to get more of the taste that has her addicted, the mixture of her cum mixed with your hot breath, the bitter smell of her sex and the sharp scent of your sweat.

You step back from the kiss as her hot breath lingers on your face, admiring the work of art in from of you. Momo’s bangs were stuck to her forehead due to the lather from the sweat. Her cheeks flushed, sweat soaking her toned body with drops slowly tumbling down falling into her naval area, the small amount of pubic hair she has around her cunt being a mess from the mixture of sweat, your spit and her wetness.

There’s also a noticeable moist smudge where Momo’s ass sits on the table, accumulating over the time she’s spent sitting there as her body heat increased from the sex and the room temperature. The humidity of the room has turned you both into a sweating mess, but that only increases the carnal pleasure of the whole situation.

“I need to cum baby. You’ve made me wait long enough,” Momo hums to you as she lays down on the table, legs spread in the air with her hole in complete view, her folds wet and slathered in her cream.

“It’s getting hot in here. Let’s finish this up,” you reply with a low growl, using the heat of the room as the excuse for why you’re in a hurry, when the reality is that you don’t know how long you’ll be able to last without cumming.

You align your cock with her center, rubbing the head against the lips of her pussy, the warmth emanating from her slit and the friction of your most intimate parts causing the two of you to moan out, the noise coming from her closer to gasps and hums as the long night of pleasure has made her very sensitive down there.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” Momo spits as she lightly kicks at your abs with one of her legs that’s swaying in the air. You laugh at this, so deeply in love with this woman whom you have done so many dirty, perverted things with because she draws these parts out of you that you never knew you had.

And right now with her laying on the table, both her upper lips and pussy lips swollen, sweat covering her breasts and abdomen, and her bottom lip quivering in anticipation, you knew what you wanted most was to make this a night she’d never forget.

To have her remember that on this night you had reduced her to a sweating fuck bunny who didn’t care what smell she was emitting or what she tasted like. In this moment she was cock hungry, hungry for your cock, and all she wanted was for you to imprint yourself into her forever.

“Alright love, I’ll give you just what you want,” is your response as you bury your cock into her in one fell swoop, giving her no time to adjust as you immediately begin plunging yourself into her.

“Fuck you’re so big baby,” Momo sobs as your hands grip her waist, hands having a difficult time holding onto her as they begin to slip from the sweat, but you immediately adjust yourself anytime that happens, loving the way your hands sink into her sides making her slim abdomens that much more prominent.

She wraps her legs around your waist, making your heart throb furiously. “Fuck, you know what you’re doing you little fuck bunny,” you groan out as Momo gives you a little smirk in between her gasps and moans, knowing that the feeling of her legs wrapping around you is all it takes to push you over the edge.

Your pace becomes accelerated, the table wiggling under the pressure as Momo lets out high-pitched shrieks, feeling the heat pooling in her lower back, not just from the pool of sweat beneath her on the table but from the approaching climax causing her body to tremble.

Your hands grip Momo’s tits and begin to roughly pinch at her nipples, angry at yourself for not giving these beautiful bosoms more love earlier. The aggressive tug on her nipples has her cry out from the sting that now reverberates throughout her body but her focus is turned to the pleasure that’s about to burst like a dam within her.

“I’m gonna cum!”

Momo screams as you feel her clench around you, walls fluttering around your cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum too love,” is all your able to breathe out as your hips stutter, one last powerful thrust into Momo’s cunt as you spill yourself inside of her, body convulsing from the sheer pleasure. Your eyes drift to Momo who is breathing heavily, mouth wide open and eyes directed to you in a loving gaze.

You pulled your cock out and watched as your cum slowly drifted out, grabbing your towel which was nearby to wipe your falling semen.

“That was crazy,” Momo breathes out as she sits up and lifts herself off the table, falling into your arms as you two share a sheepish smile, embarrassment settling in after that animalistic fuck session.

She lets out an audible gasp when she turns around and sees the state of the wooden table that you two just fucked on.

“Is all of that seriously my sweat?” She asks in confusion pointing at the part of the table on which her ass sat and her back rested on, completely drenched with sweat. Well it’s not just sweat, some pussy juice too you thought to yourself.

“Good thing your towel’s still dry,” you chuckle, using her towel from before to wipe the table clean, though there’s not much you can do about the smell.

Momo goes to the corner of the room where she had thrown her clothes. She lifts her panties up and notices the damp patch where her slit directly sat, feeling bashful at the physical proof of her smutty behavior.

“Save that for me,” you yell looking in Momo’s direction as you roughly throw on your under garments, in too much of a daze from the pleasure to care about the dampness of the clothes that makes them feel heavier than usual.

“Save them?” Momo asks brows knitted in confusion.

“Yeah… I uh… think I’ve got a thing for smells now,” you explain bashfully, realizing how embarrassing it is to tell the girl in front of you how turned on you are by her bodily scent.

“I just think you smell hot,” you blurt out, eyes directed to the floor. You look up and glance at Momo’s face to gauge her reaction to your sudden confession, but to your surprise she wasn’t looking at you but rather around the room, nose continuously sniffing.

“Speaking of smells… what are we gonna do about the room?”

Good question. Your guys’s nose had adapted to the tangy, bitter smell of sex in the air but what would the inhabitants tomorrow think? It was pretty obvious that a cunt was ravished in this room judging from the scent.

Oh well, not much you can do today.

You pick up your phone and see that the time is well passed midnight. That would be a problem for the two of you trying to get back home in damped clothing. You suddenly got an idea.

“Let’s just sleep over.”

“Huh?” Momo responds in confusion.

“Why not? It’s super late and it’s not like we can clean the smell in this room. None of us brought any perfume with us. Might as well wait until it’s gone in the morning, and we can then empty it out for the trainees.”

You could see on Momo’s face that she wasn’t entirely convinced, looking at you completely deadpan.

“They’ve got a shower here, don’t they?”

Upon hearing that you see Momo’s eyes flash, giving in to your idea.

“Well.. alright. I don’t think it’s a bad idea to stay especially since it’s so late and our clothes are so dirty. But we have to be up by 8 and empty out, you hear me?”

You nod your head, knowing that the doors open at 8 for the rookie trainees while Momo and the rest of the more seasoned veterans have 24 hours access with their keys. The only rule was that certain rooms had to be emptied by 8 in the morning, one of them happening to be the room you two were in.

“Let’s hope the smell clears up by morning,” Momo murmurs as she begins to put on her panties, causing you to internally groan, hoping those would be the pair that you’d get to keep as a memento for today.

“I’ll hop in the shower. By the time we wake up tomorrow our clothes should be dry,” she states, fully clothed and keys in hand.

“You know, now that I’m thinking we do have this place all to oursel-“

“No way mister.”

She cuts you off with a stern face. You knew what her answer would be, going for round 2 here being counterproductive to wanting the scent of sex in the air removed, but you thought you’d give it a try.

Momo gives you a smile, finding your behavior enduring. “I’m off then, bye.”

She blows you a kiss as you wave her off. It was an exciting day and you got to see a side of yourself that you didn’t know you had, while also seeing a side of Momo you hadn’t seen before. Or better said… hadn’t smelled before.