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kyunghwannie · 23 hours ago

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

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

Part-1 | Part-2

➤ Words: 10914 words.

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

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

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

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

Is it truly the end..?

---

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

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

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

Momo.

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

Her voice was soft but firm.

Momo: “Don’t.”

I frowned, still trying to push myself up.

Y/N: “Momo, I need to—”

Her hold tightened.

Momo: “No.”

I froze.

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

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

Momo: “Sana will be fine.”

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

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

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

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

Momo: “She’s Sana.”

She said it like it explained everything.

I turned my head slightly, glancing down at her.

Y/N: “And?”

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

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

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

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

Momo: “Stay.”

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

And I hesitated.

Because this was Momo.

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

I felt my shoulders relax against my will.

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

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

I sighed.

Y/N: “…Momo.”

She hummed, nuzzling into my shoulder.

Y/N: “This isn’t fair to Sana.”

Momo was quiet for a moment.

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

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

I tensed.

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

Fairness didn’t exist in love.

People didn’t fall in love fairly.

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

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

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

I closed my eyes, exhaling deeply.

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

Minutes passed.

Then, she spoke again.

Momo: “Do you regret it?”

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

Y/N: “What?”

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

Her dark brown eyes held mine, searching.

Momo: “Us.”

Her fingers trailed lazily down my arm.

Momo: “Me.”

A slow smirk played at the corner of her lips.

Momo: “Everything.”

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

Did I regret it? Regret her?

No.

But did I regret Sana getting hurt?

Yes.

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

She sighed, rolling onto her back beside me.

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

Momo: “I’ll talk to her.”

I blinked, turning my head toward her.

Y/N: “You will?”

She nodded, still staring at the ceiling.

Momo: “Eventually.”

I frowned.

Y/N: “Momo—”

Momo: “Not right now.”

She turned her head, her gaze meeting mine.

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

I stiffened.

Momo smirked.

She reached up, her fingers brushing my jawline.

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

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

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

I could feel her lips hovering just inches away.

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

Momo: “Tell me…”

She leaned in, brushing her lips against my earlobe.

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

My breath hitched.

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

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

I clenched my fists.

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

I exhaled slowly, my voice quiet.

Y/N: “…No.”

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

Momo: “Good.”

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

Momo: “Then stop thinking about her.”

I hesitated.

Then, I nodded.

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

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

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

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

And yet… I still had questions.

Y/N: “What happens now?”

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

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

Momo: “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

And then—she smirked.

Momo: “Are you getting cold feet already?”

I frowned.

Y/N: “That’s not what I meant.”

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

Momo: “Then what do you mean?”

I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment.

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

Y/N: “I haven’t debuted yet.”

She blinked.

Y/N: “I don’t even know if I will."

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

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

Momo: “You will.”

I stiffened.

She said it so certainly.

Like it wasn’t even a question.

Y/N: “How do you know?”

She blinked at me.

Then, she laughed. Not mockingly. Not condescendingly.

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

Her breath was warm against my lips.

Momo: “Because I know you.”

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

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

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

The idol who had debuted in 2015.

The woman who had seen trainees come and go.

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

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

Momo: “You’re talented.”

Her fingers tightened around mine.

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

Her eyes held mine, unwavering.

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

I swallowed.

Y/N: “What?”

She smirked.

Momo: “Me.”

I blinked.

Y/N: “Huh?”

Her smirk widened.

Momo: “You have me.”

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

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

I frowned.

Y/N: “Momo, that’s not—”

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

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

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

Her fingers curled around mine.

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

I exhaled. Because she wasn’t wrong.

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

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

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

Y/N: “…Why are you doing this?”

She blinked.

Momo: “What do you mean?”

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

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

Momo: “Because I want to.”

She held my gaze.

Momo: “Because I care about you.”

My throat tightened. She said it so simply.

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

And maybe to her—it was.

I exhaled, my fingers curling into the sheets.

And then—I felt her shift.

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

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

My brain short-circuited.

Y/N: “W-what?”

She grinned.

Momo: “What?”

Her fingers pressed against my chest.

Momo: “Are you not?”

I gaped at her.

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

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

Y/N: “…You never asked.”

She blinked. Then—she laughed.

Momo: “Do I need to?”

I stared at her. And she just smiled.

Momo: “You’re mine, Y/N.”

She leaned down, her lips brushing against my jawline.

Momo: “I thought that was already obvious.”

My breath hitched. Because she wasn’t wrong.

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

I exhaled shakily, my hands resting on her waist.

Y/N: “…Momo.”

She hummed, her fingers trailing down my sides.

Momo: “Hmm?”

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

Y/N: “You’re insane.”

She grinned.

Momo: “And you love it.”

I groaned, my hands tightening around her waist.

Y/N: “I hate that you’re right.”

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

Momo: “Good.”

And just like that—I knew.

That no matter what happened next—

No matter how hard this industry tried to break me—

No matter what obstacles came my way—

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

---

Meanwhile – Sana’s Heartbreak and Resolve

The production room was silent.

Too silent.

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

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

But tonight… it felt different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was because you saw her.

Not Sana the cute, flirtatious TWICE member everyone adored.

Just Sana.

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

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

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

It wasn’t fair.

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

Not at Momo.

At herself.

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

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

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

Was this it?

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

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

That certainty burned.

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

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

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

And Momo—Momo wasn’t just any rival.

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

For assuming there was still time.

This was real.

She clenched her jaw, her mind spinning.

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

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

Momo might have won the battle.

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

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

She would fight for you.

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

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

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

She knew you cared for her too.

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

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

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

---

One Month Later – Love in Motion

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

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

And then there was her.

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

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

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

This was Momo the girlfriend.

And she was relentless.

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

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

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

Momo: “You're getting better, baby.”

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

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

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

And I—I had fallen for it completely.

The music restarted, and I adjusted my stance.

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

Momo: “Again.”

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

Y/N: “Momo-noona, give me a break.”

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

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

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

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

A shiver ran down my spine.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay composed.

Y/N: “You’re evil.”

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

Momo: “And yet, you love me.”

She wasn’t wrong. I surely did.

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

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

Momo: “One last time, Y/N.”

Her voice was softer now, almost encouraging.

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

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

Momo clapped her hands together, eyes sparkling with pride.

Momo: “That’s my boy.”

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

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

Y/N: “You’re insane, you know that?”

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

Momo: “And yet…?”

I smirked.

Y/N: “And yet, I love you.”

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

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

I groaned, earning another melodic laugh from her.

But deep down, I didn’t mind.

Because this—this was love.

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

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

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

Y/N: “Momo-noona… you’re killing me.”

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: “F-Fuck—”

Momo: laughs “Ah ah, language~”

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

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

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

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

Y/N: “Shit—Momo!”

Momo: humming “So tasty…”

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

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

Momo: pops off “Look at you…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: “Need you, noona… now.”

Momo: “Mmm~ Then take me.”

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

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

Momo: whining “Y-Yes… please…”

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

Momo: “HAHHH~! FUCK!”

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

Y/N: “G-God… so tight—”

Momo: sobbing “D-Deeper! Mmmf—NGH~!”

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

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

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

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

Momo: giggles “Best… practice… ever.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Momo: "You’re insatiable."

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

Momo: whispers "But I love it."

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

Momo: "You’re not done yet, are you?"

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

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

Y/N: "Not even close."

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

Momo: "F-Fuck—! Y-Yes~!"

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

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

Momo: "H-Harder-please—!"

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

Momo: "I-I’m gonna—NHG~!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Momo: "Deal."

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

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

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

For a while, neither of us spoke.

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

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

Momo: “Ugh… Y/N, my butt hurts.”

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

A lazy smirk formed on my lips.

Y/N: “Good kind of hurt, right?”

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

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

I chuckled, but my voice was hoarse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smirked.

Momo: “Oh? Sensitive now?”

I groaned.

Y/N: “Momo-noona, please.”

She grinned, clearly enjoying my wrecked state.

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

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

Momo: “You okay?”

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

She looked stunning.

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

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

Y/N: “I’m more than okay.”

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

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

I raised an eyebrow.

Y/N: “Like what?”

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

Momo: “Soft. Sweet. Submissive.”

I groaned, covering my face again.

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

Momo: “Nope.”

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

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

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

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

Her fingers brushed my hair back, soft and intimate.

Momo: “So… what now?”

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

She wasn’t just asking about tonight.

She was asking about us.

About what happens from here on out.

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

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

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

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

I chuckled, squeezing her hip lightly.

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

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

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

Momo: “Fine. But just so you know—”

Her voice lowered, sultry, teasing.

Momo: “I’m still not done with you.”

I groaned dramatically, throwing my head back.

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

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

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

------

The vending machine stared back at me.

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

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

Y/N: "You piece of—"

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

Narrowing my eyes, I cracked my knuckles.

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

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

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

The machine rumbled.

Then, finally—thud.

A can rolled out and landed in the tray below.

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

Y/N: "Victory."

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

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

A soft sniffle.

I froze mid-sip, my ears straining.

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

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

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

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

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

Sana.

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

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

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

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

And I hadn’t seen her in a month.

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

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

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

Momo had lied.

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

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

Something that cracked through my chest.

I took a step forward. Then another.

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

I swallowed. And then, softly-

Y/N: "Sana-noona…?"

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

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

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

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

Or maybe—

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

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

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

She still hadn’t looked up.

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

I kept my tone gentle, patient.

Y/N: "What’s wrong?"

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

Then—

A soft, wavering breath.

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

It was unsettling to see her like this.

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

She looked like a candle struggling to stay lit.

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

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

Sana: "…Why are you even here?"

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

I tilted my head slightly, studying her.

Y/N: "You were crying."

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

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

Sana: "You don’t have to be here."

I leaned back slightly, folding my arms.

Y/N: "I know."

A small pause. Then I added, quieter—

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

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

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

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

Finally, Sana exhaled a small, humorless laugh.

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

I shrugged.

Y/N: "Not really."

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

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

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

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

The Crack in the Armor

Then, softer this time—

Sana: "You care?"

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

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

Y/N: "Of course."

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

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

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

Then, her voice—so small, so broken

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

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

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

Sana looked away again, her jaw tightening.

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

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

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

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

"Then why does it feel like I lost?"

I didn't know how to answer that.

Or maybe I did—

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

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

Then—

She crossed it.

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

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

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

Sana…

She liked me first?

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

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

She exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I opened my mouth, but—

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

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

I blinked, caught off guard.

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

Sana: "I already know your answer."

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

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

And for some reason— That scared me.

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

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

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

I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

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

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

I frowned slightly. That… was true.

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

And yet, with me— She did.

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

Her voice was softer now, almost contemplative.

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

I swallowed, feeling something heavy settle in my chest.

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

But still—

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

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

And Sana—

Sana had been left in the shadows.

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

Sana: "I won’t lose."

A chill ran down my spine.

Sana: "I won’t back away, Y/N."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The room was empty now.

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

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

What the hell just happened?

This… wasn’t something I was prepared for.

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

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

And now—

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

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

A woman who had chosen me.

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

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

But Now… Another storm was brewing.

Minatozaki Sana.

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

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

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

"I won’t lose."

"I won’t back away, Y/N."

Her conviction sent a shiver down my spine.

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

But in reality—

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

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

But at the same time—

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

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

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

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

This wasn’t just some high school crush drama—

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

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

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

But the moment I exhaled—

Sana’s words echoed in my mind again.

"I won’t lose."

I opened my eyes, staring at the empty room.

Only one thought filled my mind.

God, help me.

---

A few days later

JYPE Headquarters – Executive Meeting Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JYP nodded, clearly approving of your mindset.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You took a deep breath before responding.

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

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

JYP was the first to respond.

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

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

Encouraged by their reactions, you pressed forward.

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

JYP’s eyes lit up with interest.

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

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

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

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

You chuckled.

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

JYP leaned back, tapping his fingers against the table.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Director Choi: "You composed these yourself?"

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

JYP smiled, his pride evident.

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

You felt a swell of gratitude.

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

JYP nodded.

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

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

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

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

You bowed deeply.

Y/N: "I will."

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

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

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

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

Still, it wasn’t just about you.

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

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

Internal Monologue – The Meaning of 'Shadow'

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

Momo.

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

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

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

And she had noticed it first.

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

That was the moment things changed.

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

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

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

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

That was why Shadow was born.

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

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

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

Internal Monologue – The Meaning of 'U ok?'

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

Sana.

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

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

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

But then… that day happened.

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

Her shoulders were shaking.

She was crying.

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

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

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

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

She had liked you.

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

And then she had said the words that haunted you.

Sana: "I’m not backing down, Y/N."

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

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

That was why U ok? existed.

Because you couldn’t stop wondering.

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

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

You didn’t know.

And the worst part?

You were too afraid to ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

A small smile tugged at your lips.

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

Momo was waiting for you.

And for now, that was enough.

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

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biancadoes1 · 2 days ago

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Hi Bianca. I hope all is well with you. My name is Gracie and I know I'm anon atm but for personal reasons, I can't reveal my account name here on Tumblr. For starters, I have to warn you that this might be long, and I will apologize for that but I hope you find this worth reading.

I know nothing of Bridgerton, Luke Newton and Nicola Coughlan. Although I am familiar that they all are actors. I heard the names before. I know nothing of the lore, the fandom nor the shipping. But my close friend does. This morning, she came to my office on the verge of tears and I tried to comfort her. We had this series of conversation, hence I ended up here. She showed me an IG story of Nicola, and I noticed it was a reposted story of user JakeLDunn congratulating her on BAFTA nomination(CONGRATULATIONS!!) and I looked at her with questioning look, so I told her that, "Well that's sweet of him. A friend congratulating a friend on achieving such feat on her career." And then here what's started everything. My friend looked at me like I just said something life changing and then she seemed relief for some reason so we had a chat. "So it looks that way to GA huh. Gosh."

My friend told me that she admittedly shipped Nicola and Luke. And she also said she is so confused about Nicola and Jake because they are reportedly dating but a lot of you here felt differently so she asked me to offer my thoughts objectively as a outsider so I said sure. And my friend specifically told me that I can understand Nicola and Jake lore personally and I can understand now why.

To give you a little bit of info about me, I have a bestie (guy) that I met through a common friend. We have a huge age gap and we have a dating rumour amongst our friend group, even to outsiders. I thought about that way too at first, but then this bestie of mine started exhibiting odd behaviours that I only noticed. I saw the way he looked at our coworker (guy). His gaze lingered on our coworker and waaaaay too many signs that led me to conclude that he may be gay. So one day I asked him directly, because if he was really gay as I thought him to be, then the rumours of romance between us might cause some sort of rift and I want to correct that so I sat down with him, and clarified everything. And yes, he is gay. He said it himself. And he is also aware about the rumours of us dating and he did apologize for that. He felt like he used me as a cover up about his sexual orientation and he felt guilty do so, but his trauma about him coming out has led him to remain silent. But he also said it didn't stop him from slowly coming out, hence the signs that I saw. The one point where I truly believe he was gay is that I saw on his personal profile that he is following this painter in our city which is known for its nude paintings of men so yeah that pretty much summarizes it.

My point is, we got close, like real close and I don't mind holding hands with him. Hugging him, taking personal pics of each other without this gender norms. It seemed intimate to outsiders but we know the real deal between us. We are besties. And I secretly helped him with his love of his life, on how to pursue him while on the outside, and its the perfect cover up to be honest. Like I am being pressured to date somebody and I hate that, and now my parents don't bug me that much about dating because of my bestie and they are trying to respect our relationship (no we are not dating) but our age gap is making them feel odd but they are trying to respect that. I feel bad about lying but I don't want anybody really poking about my business, especially my love life and I suspect that something really similar is happening to Nicola.

If Jake Dunn suddenly came into picture without any warning, and if he is also rumoured to be part of LGBTQ+, you guys have the right to be suspicious. Because that's how I deflected any other romances with other people without being obvious and not to mention, its the perfect cover up. He is part of my friend group, my bestie and I am comfortable with him, but our relationship is mostly sister/brother that. If you guys felt like Nicola at some point tried to deny the narrative about her and Jake Dunn dating, you would've seen signs. Maybe personally or in social media where all their moves are being monitored. And then suddenly, you guys felt like the narrative is being pushed onto you guys, that's where you have to suspect something behind the scenes is going on. Because that's exactly how it happened to me, about my career and my family. Not to get detailed about it but all I did was I made sure the me and my gay bestie are kinda like in a romantic relationship to ensure the safety of our real relationship. He needed me to cover up his relationship with his bf (now fiancee) because of career issues and mine too. It was mutually consented and beneficial.

Ah, sorry that this have been long, but if you want to know my thoughts about Nicola and Jake Dunn is that, no, I don't believe they ever dated. Because I can see myself in Nicola. That's how I acted around my gay bestie. But you don't have to take this seriously tho, but its just a personal opinion of mine. And an outsiders point of view.

And my friend brought up a timeline, it made me suspicious because I think something happened last year that made Jake came into the picture. I don't have the complete lore yet but the way she told me about the events, I feel like I am missing something completely big.

And thank you miss Bianca! My friend told me if I wanted to share my thoughts about N&J situation so I said why not.

This is such an interesting perspective!!

I really enjoy hearing from people outside of this and what they think is going on based off what they see and having all the lore.

Thank you for sharing ❤️

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fishin-in-a-graveyard · 1 day ago

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Not trying to argue here but just figured this would be the place to put my own personal opinion

I'm not going to be discussing whether legislation should be made on the subject but rather, do I feel generative AI is a negative thing that should be boycotted?

A lot of the arguments I see people online using as to why generative AI images don't matter or are a bad thing is because of well the current appearance of the images. The thing is this technology is going to get better, Even a year ago people were acting like AI had hit the wall and remember what those images you still look like could not fool a single person into believing those were real photos, now that's obviously not the case.

The majority of young people on the internet can tell the difference between a generative AI image and a real photograph but It seems the ability to distinguish is getting harder and harder.

The truth is ai image generation is a highly advanced collage maker, taking billions of images from the internet and combining them into what it thinks bests fits the prompt, This doesn't just include artwork this includes any image on the public internet. And why does this technology exist? Broadly to solve the problem of corporations having to pay artists, actors, directors, etc.

If Coca-Cola wants to make an advert showing a family drinking Coca-Cola using generative AI technology, the video it will spit out will include real people's faces, real people who didn't want to be in a Coca-Cola commercial.

Let's say a company took an image of your family and decided to use it for an advertising campaign, that would be gross right? We can all broadly agree about that right? So why should our photos be put into this data set for corporations to be used be a neutral thing?

Also, I feel like I should mention It takes about as much energy to charge your entire phone as it does to make one generative AI image, obviously the amount of energy it takes to charge your phone is not destructively damaging the environment itself but when you consider how much it would take to make full 5-minute commercial, with multiple iterations and trying the prompts over and over again to try to try to get it more in line with the vision of the project, You can see where the problem comes in.

Generative AI images are being used to scam a significant amount of people specifically older folks as this technology progresses it will be harder to distinguish what is real and what is AI generated. This technology is already doing real provable harm.

If this technology were to get to the point where it was perfect in its job, being able to perfectly create images that reflect the prompt typers intent, that would be a bad thing, If scamming at the point it is at now, Imagine where it will be if this technology were to become "perfect".

If a human chooses to write a poem about a specific emotion, they are making conscious and unconscious choices about how to represent it sharing their feelings on the subject, an AI will be searching for the correct patterns of words to most accurately fit the prompt which is essentially to say it's not actually expressing anything other than to look convincing at fitting the prompt.

The AI in writing a sad poem has no conception of the emotion the imagery, the theme, It's just trying to make the most convincing looking sad poem it can. It doesn't matter how convincing the poem is, Its existence is just being convincing enough to humans to look like a sad poem written by a person, it expresses no genuine feeling.

By using the technology to make the poem itself, you are destroying any semblance of meaning or expression from it. Even if the AI were to make the most beautiful poem ever written, it would be hollow a facade a fake simply resembling real expression without being it, No matter how genuine the prompt writer was, the AI itself has no semblance of understanding and intent other than match these words to these images.

In my opinion, this technology fundamentally cannot be used for creative expression, But as I said earlier, that's not why the technology was created. If this technology were to continue to improve, corporations would no longer have to pay artists, directors, actors, etc. Instead they could just use a model built out of those artists, directors and actors work..

This technology whether you consider it built morally or not Is still unethical and is going to be used to harm people.

Not using these programs, Not giving ai made content attention and using nightshade to poison these models is the only thing the general public can do about this technology to prevent further harm as small as individual's choices may be.

Are you pro generative AI? What are your feelings about AI image generation?

uughguhghghhghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

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sepublic · 2 days ago

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TW for Cults and Mass Suicide

Dana confirmed during Pixelatl 2022 that Belos was based on people like Televangelists, serial killers, and cult leaders. I’ve already discussed the serial killer aspect to Belos, and the Televangelism is obvious for a Puritan offshoot who nevertheless indulges in gilded aesthetics and glory as he builds elaborate structures for his own gain.

We’ve all acknowledged the Emperor’s Coven is a cult and the show’s point that You are not immune to propaganda, so I want to make another connection regarding the cult leader aspect. IIRC Dana mentioned the American cult movements of the 70’s, or at least I’m pretty sure that’s what she’s alluding to. Because the Day of Unity is a mass cult suicide, so the allusion to incidents such as Jonestown and Heaven’s Gate are obvious.

Jonestown was a cult led by Jim Jones, a rich white ordained Christian minister. His cult was initially based in California but later moved to the South American country of Guyana, and 70% of Jones’ followers were black. When his cult was investigated for human rights abuses by the U.S. government, Jones got a politician looking into the case murdered. Realizing the government was going to retaliate for this, Jones had everyone commit mass suicide, talking a lot of hot shit about how they were sending a message. The followers were made to drink cyanide, those who didn’t want to were forced, and Jones chickened out of a slow and agonizing death via a gunshot wound to the head.

Heaven’s Gate was led by Marshall Applewhite, who was initially recruited himself before becoming its leader. He convinced followers that the angels of the Bible were actually space aliens, seizing upon the UFO trends of the time. He told his followers they would ascend their physical forms after committing suicide, and instructed them to do so when the comet Hale-Bopp passed by. His reasoning was that an alien UFO was hiding behind the comet, and when he and his followers ascended, their spirits would be taken in by the UFO and they would be taken to a new world.

So you can see the connecting threads in The Owl House; There’s possibly more incidents Dana was thinking of. But so far, we have a wealthy cult leader, preaching his own version of Christianity. He joined a cult but ultimately committed to the harm by liberating himself as the one in charge who knows what he’s doing to everyone else; After all, he claims to follow a doctrine but hypocritically can make exceptions for himself on convenience. It’s not as if he doesn’t/can’t know better (Just like how so many Americans will blame their education system for their ignorance, yet refuse to utilize their other resources).

He’s a white American who established his cult on colonized land, and is manipulating a minority group into committing suicide. He’s telling them that when a celestial object passes overhead, they will be led to a rapturous paradise on another planet. He himself knows exactly what fate he’s giving his followers and cowardly avoids it. Ultimately, he encourages everyone to kill themselves because he doesn’t want to face reality and it’ll make himself feel better about his situation, like a big hero.

Despite the Collector being a literal space alien who’s made complicit in this, there’s nevertheless no paradise, there’s no rapture, just death. American Evangelicalism was a breeding ground for cults like these, whose followers were dispossessed people.

The mention of space aliens also makes me think of Jacob Hopkins, who establishes Belos’ motive by being the first foreshadowing of it to begin with; Hopkins IS Belos, thematically speaking, so we have some white guy wanting to feel better about his miserable life by believing there’s some hidden, otherworldly truth to the world and he’s important for calling it out.

Ironically, Belos himself became the conspiracy, just as he became the evil strawman witch he spoke about; Going full CIA in trying to destabilize another nation by pulling the strings because its mere existence as something his white American Christian group can’t control HAS to be an inherent threat. Because of course, Hopkins and Belos wanted to murder these space aliens (which witches technically qualify as) because there’s the intersectionality of racism and the Alt-Right for them as well.

There’s something equal parts absurd and banal about it all. Sometimes there is some conspiracy or hidden truth out there, it’s just way more mundane than it’s said to be; Hence the difference between conspiracy-minded folk who need there to be a plot VS people making basic observations. Like yes the CIA did do that and publically admitted to it, even. Witches and demons exist and are hidden from society, they’re just… minding their own business. And that cult does have some secretive endgame, but it’s not a rapture event it’s just mass suicide to inflate the ego of the leader.

And I think that’s an important distinction to make; It’s the fantasy genre so it’s par for the course. But it’s nice to clarify, say in an episode where the protagonist returns to her own mundane world, that this conspiracy is likely BS with an undercurrent of bigotry to it. Some political figures need to be taken out but the real horror is how the average person isn’t a monster, but just as fooled as you, and means well when they excitedly march towards fascism. IRL witch hunters didn’t believe in otherworldly beings, they just hated women and minorities; And even in the world where one did confirm otherworldly beings, he’s just as insincere and bigoted about his approach as all the rest.

#Cult #Cults #the owl house #emperor belos #philip wittebane

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for-a-longlongtime · 2 days ago

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WIP on Wednesday Thursday

Well, first of all, my WIP folder is currently looking like this:

But fuck it, we ball right?

I got tagged by @din-cognito and @avastrasposts this week, and @the-blind-assassin-12 and @lotusbxtch last week, so I've got some catching up to do! I've been all over the place working on different docs, so you're getting a few tidbits this week.

I've posted snippets of this before (and lo! a hozier title! I'm gonna have to change that though because the story ended up going differently than planned), and after it having been on hold for months, the pieces are coming together at last.

let me wrap my teeth around the world (working title) | Santiago x Frankie “You think we did the right thing there?” Santiago says, staring at the ceiling as he avoids Frankie's eyes. Unsure he really wants to hear the answer, because of how likely it is that he is the only person who can’t answer that with a decisive yes. Fish was the only one on their team - besides Tom - who'd had a family to take care of, who needed that money probably more than any of them did because of his pilot license being suspended. “I mean... Following his lead with the money.” No answer. The deafening silence lasts for much too long. Santi grimaces as he closes his eyes. Shit. Why did he even ask? He keeps fucking up like this.

Next we've got a WIP that I haven't worked on in a bit (it wanted to go on break, bummerrr) but that I'm hoping to pick up very soon.

Untitled | Reynaldo x Matthew It’s those large hands that draw Matt’s attention first. That, and the golden chain partially but-not-quite hiding under that checkered golf shirt, glistening every now and then in the bright afternoon sun. It’s almost as bright as the gleam in Sophie’s eyes when she throws back a shot and listens to the older man introduce himself as Reynaldo. Matt is only vaguely aware of the prepared talk that the man launches into, a few words standing out, such as ‘exclusive members only’ and ‘the best golf club in all of Arizona’. Things that everybody wanted to hear, and that gave Sophie all the more opportunity to coo at the man how this was ‘one of the best premium golf clubs’ she’d ever been at. It probably isn’t all that premium though, considering the Scotts and Dale had been able to book this place on a budget. And truth be told, it’s still unclear to Matt why they are here on a ‘vow renewal bachelor staycation’, which seemed a contradiction on its own. Or even why Sophie showed up here, acting like one of the guys, just long enough until she found someone who was willing to give her the attention she was clearly looking for. He’d seen the pattern before, especially with the girls on the Kel-squad. None of that matters though, he tries to remind himself as they make their way up to the golf course. He’s simply glad to get away from Kelsey for a couple of days - not just for some peace and quiet, but also so he doesn’t have to wonder if she’s talking to Domingo every time she smiles at an incoming message on her phone.

Finally, this last one is still in the VERY early stages, but ngl... I'm excited. Thank you to the folks who encouraged me to keep going with it! This is hella out of my comfort zone but what the hell, that's where the fun is, right? This one is going to more filth than I'll probably be able to shove into an one shot... so it may end up becoming two or three parts. We'll see.

for glory (working title) | Harry Castillo Harry is speechless, shock painted over his features, and it takes him a moment to find his voice. "You wouldn't dare to," he finally manages to say, and what had previously been surprise in his eyes has now flipped into unmistakeable rage. "Mmm, is that so, Harry? What - you think I've got morals or something?"

EDIT: WAIT!! I forgot to add one final excerpt! This is from a yet to be decided chapter from Joel and Marcus Moreno' story. I spent way too much time trying to find the right face claim moments for them at different ages, and this is what I settled on for their mid-twenties:

Joel in his mid-twenties (a.k.a. Zach Wellison in Brothers & Sisters)

Marcus Moreno in his late twenties (a.k.a. looking like Comandante Veracruz from the Burn Notice movie).

Yes, I'm as shocked as y'all are about the latter, but I promise it'll make sense. As for the excerpt:

Untitled series | Joel Miller x Marcus Moreno Marcus folds his arms as he leans back against the wall, looking every bit the charismatic guy most people know him to be. But Joel has known him a long time and can see where the varnish has cracked, and the parts he so desperately tries to cover up. "So you don't like it. How I look. You don't like me anymore," Marcus says after a moment, and there’s something about all that combativeness on display - as well as the bitter irony of those words - that hits Joel much harder than he was prepared for. He doesn’t have the same defense system that Marcus clearly is equipped with; the mask that he can put on and off so easily after years of practice. So he just shakes his head. "Think it's been too long since you've had someone push back against you, M." "The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Joel tries to hide his sigh by drinking from his coffee, but the beverage has gone cold, the stale taste of it now bitter on his tongue in a way that feels oddly specific to this situation. "Don't pick a fight with me because you're unhappy, Marcus," he says softly.

I know a lot of y'all already posted a WIP Wednesday, so I'm just gonna link a couple of folks, no pressure as always (apologies if you've already made your weekly WIP update):

@perotovar @sin-djarin @lotusbxtch @mountainsandmayhem @qveerthe0ry

@letsgobarbs @gothcsz @milla-frenchy @guiltyasdave @oliveksmoked

@magpiepills @arcanefox207 @reallyrallyauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @clubsoft

@romanarose @the-blind-assassin-12

#wip wednesday #wip #my writing #pedro pascal characters

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twopoppies · 2 days ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/twopoppies/779120652808536064/hi-gina-im-already-sick-of-myself-typing-this?source=share

War flashbacks…

I read Daisie’s timeline, and I realized that the way Shia quit the movie and Harry came in to replace him happened almost one right after the other. I’d say it was a rushed negotiation, and no one really thought through the consequences, plus I doubt anyone saw it coming.

I think Harry was trying to be as professional as possible with her, but there were moments where he definitely seemed upset: like during one of the Boston shows (before Harryween), then the whole yachtgate situation, and when he found out the nightmare was going to last another year and was seen at Sony office. You could also tell he didn't want to do pda with her until they probably told him to put in more effort.

As for the tattoo, we’ll never know what made him get it, but I think she wanted an engagement—there were even rumors, I believe—but I guess at that point he said 'I’ll just get your name tattooed instead.' I wouldn’t be surprised.

The only positive thing is that Harry—because I truly believe it was more him than his team—was able to negotiate keeping her separate from the album and didn’t let her mention him outside of the movie promo. I feel like that was a last-minute negotiation too, because it really seemed like they were going to link the album to her, but thank God that didn’t happen.

Nothing will make me believe that relationship was real, even without considering larry—things just didn’t add up, and Harry showed his frustration in many ways.

And for those who use the excuse that she interacted with his family and friends, believe me, if Harry were my friend, I’d try to protect him and help however I could (because that’s what friends do). And if that means going to her birthday just to keep up appearances and prevent my friend from another pap walk with her, I’d do it.

I absolutely agree with you about friends and family helping to keep him from suffering through more interaction with her.

I think the leak of the video of her begging Shia to stay, while also shading Florence, probably enraged Harry. I would bet she was covering all her bases and doing all of that while also courting Harry to be in the film (and we already know she lied about Shia being fired, and lied about his behavior on set, when he actually quit because the script for the film was terrible and there wasn't enough rehearsal time).

I think the tattoo exchange for an engagement was a fan theory originally (because I know I had that theory, and I saw others saying it, too). We really have no idea, but it seems like a logical leap to make.

Frankly, I think she was thrilled for it to last a second year and probably didn't fight it for one second. It was originally supposed to be released at the end of 2021. Then, in early 2022. It kept get pushed later and later (I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't please her case with WB that she could drum up more excitement for it the longer she played the PR relationship game as Harry was becoming more and more popular as his tour continued and as Harry's House was released).

The shoot went a full month longer than expected (partially due to Covid, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was due to the mess that everything was because of her). Then she literally checked out completely in terms of post-production and was so busy being a rock star girlfriend that the movie needed to be re-edited and shown to test audiences at least three times (with all reports being leaked pointing toward a disaster). Then, somehow Warner Bros decided to cancel every single movie it was making except DWD (and some movie starring the Rock that I can't even remember the name of now) and pushed its premiere to the fall when all the big Oscar contenders are released (as if. LMAO!) and somehow got it to the Venice Film Festival.

I very much think Harry's House was originally meant to be linked to her (the same way Fine Line was linked to Camille). The fact that it seems as though the Zane Lowe interview was shot and edited by January 2022 and then re-shot at Coachella in April of that year tells me everything I need to know about that. He swerved hard and cut her out of the narrative completely (THANK GOD).

#holivia #stunts #zane lowe #don't worry darling #harry's house promo #olivia tattoo #shia lebouf #olivia wilde is a narcissistic asshole

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1-800-local-slut · 1 day ago

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Before and After (Part 1)

The bullet that went through his brain knocked all the part of Rex that sucked clean out of him. But he still existed before that.

Rex 'Splode' Sloan x Black! Alien! Reader

Warnings: really hard pregnancy, vomit, smut mentions, Rex doubts his parenting abilities, also Rex and reader are young parents trying to figure it out, Rex being a cunt but this was before he got his brains blasted out lol, woke!Mark, I tried to make the characters talk like teenagers because I feel like we don't see enough of it in the show, Rex and Eve broke up WAY before he hooked up with reader because man stealing is never the move

Note: you're from a planet called Moraya and your parents sent you to Earth to stay with your uncle due to a disease sweeping the planet. They couldn't leave because your mother is the head of medicine, and your father is a high-ranking member of the government. By the time the crisis was dealt with you were a teenager and had adjusted to life on Earth, your parents understood your choice to stay. Your powers are mostly mental. You can control minds, have telekinesis, take over people's bodies, manipulate people's emotional states, and sometimes see the future in your dreams. Your body functions like a human, so your vulnerable to injures and human deaths but not illnesses (like car accidents, falling and breaking your neck, choking, drowning). You can fly, but not everyone on your planet can. It's more of a recessive gene since overtime your people didn't need to do it as often. That's all y'all!

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

If Rex finished high school, he might've remembered to use a condom that night. Nah. He still wouldn't have done it. He was twenty years old, with a three year old and his nineteen year old fiancé. You two were broke as two jokes. You were trying to get through med school, he was trying to save the world, but you two still found the time to be the best parents possible. He was stressed all the time, a few gray hairs were growing and the bags under his eyes were never leaving.

But Rex hasn't stopped smiling since the moment you agreed to marry him. Not when your baby woke up screaming in the middle of the night, not when your baby threw up on him four times in a day, not when you broke his hand during labor. Not even when he was woken up by you struggling to put on your crocs to go to get food in the middle of the night.

At first, Rex spent so much time wishing he just pulled out. Of course Plan B wasn't enough, you were an alien. But no matter how much you reassured him that it would've worked and that the Plan B just failed, he still didn't believe you. To this day he's ashamed to admit that he didn't want his baby at first.

Even suggested it wasn't his, to which he got a firm slap.

"Pregnant?!"

"I just thought I'd let you know-"

"So what, you like need a ride to the place? Because I kind of don't have my car right now."

Silence settled over the HQ and disgust filled your face.

"No, Rex, I don't need a ride. I just wanted to let you have a choice-"

"What, you wanna keep it?! Listen, you're cool but I'm not gonna have a kid. I mean how do you know its even mine?" Just then Mark came in and let out a soft 'oooo'. Even Invincible, as clueless as he was sometimes knew that was definitely the worst thing to say to you.

You let out an offended gasp before anger replaced disgust.

"Are you calling me a slut?!" The slap that followed honestly left him reeling. To this day he could still feel your handprint on his face sometimes and it's almost been four years since you slapped the taste out of his mouth.

"I was OFFERING you a chance to know it. I have family on my home planet. Seeing as it's your child too I thought you might've wanted a chance to raise it but you've answered the question before I asked. I will be taking it home with me when it's old enough to make the journey with me."

"Oh. Okay, cool. So you aren't asking me for money?"

"I wouldn't wipe my ass with the crumpled two dollars you have in your pocket. Me and MY CHILD will be good without you, trust." Then you were gone, and only Rexsplode and Invincible remained in the room. But Invincible decided to be Mark for a second and talk to his friend.

"Dude...she's having your baby." It was the first thing he said when Rex sat down on his bed as the two teenagers sat down in his room in the Gaurdian's HQ.

"Yeah, I'm doing okay after that slap." He scoffed while he grabbed a shirt that smelt clean off his bed and removed his costume.

"Did you want me to be on your side here...?"

"Okay yeah, maybe I wasn't the most sensitive but what did I really say wrong?"

"Are we being deadass???" Now in his own regular clothes (where he got them from Rex still doesn't know), Mark made a face of disgust. The type of face you make when you're truly questioning your homie.

Rex gave an indignant shrug. He knew but his pride hurt more than his face at that point.

"We'll do a play by play, maybe it'll help you. Okay, she comes in, tells you she's pregnant. This is the same girl who had to leave her home and adjust to living in a strange place and only has one other person on Earth who understands her. She's going through something emotionally heavy, away from her own people who probably have customs that she can't partake in, because she's probably unable to fly back while pregnant.

Also we're teenagers, she's a year younger than us so there's also the fact that she has to kiss young adulthood and the rest of her life goodbye because she's choosing to keep YOUR BABY, and she didn't even just take the kid and dip. I don't know man, maybe you shouldn't have accused her of sleeping around and then instead of being any type of understanding you told her you couldn't even give her a ride to Planned Parenthood."

Awkward silence settled through the room.

"Also why did you call her 'cool' like you haven't known her for years?"

"Don't make me sound like a loser."

"Hey man I hate to break it to you but you're doing that on your own."

"I don't even know it's mine!" Arms thrown out to the side, he grunted in exhaustion. It felt like you knocked a tooth lose, damn.

"We know she isn't sleeping around because she hasn't been in my bed." With a dramatic rub of his hands Mark lifted both of his eyebrows and made a dumbass face. Rex's own face crinkled in disgust and he looked at Mark while he leaned back on his palms.

"What if you're not her type?"

And Mark had the audacity to snort, and motion towards himself.

"Have you SEEN me? I would sleep with me too."

"...Would that count as masturbation or selfcest? Or twincest?"

"No because it's me not a twin."

"What if the other you becomes sentient and wants its own life."

"Yeah but...no...wait."

And as time went by, you went through pregnancy. Alone. You went through four months of what from a distance looked like a horrible experience, and while it tugged at his heart strings you told Eve who told Mark, who told Rex that you would die before you spoke to Rex again. Especially about your baby. It got to the point where you struggled to control your powers and had to fess up to Cecil. Who even expressed his disgust with Rex's behavior in a subtle way.

"You're the first reason I've ever had to figure out maternity leave for a pregnant alien teenager." Was all he said after Rex denied paternity leave.

It took one night for Rex to actually start growing a pair. They fully grew in after he caught a bullet to the cranium.

It was one night after a mission, two weeks before you had to start maternity leave, and the Guardians just returned from a pretty mid battle while Mark was on a little vacation according to Cecil.

While everyone celebrated, Rex left to use the bathroom when he heard it. You cried alone, in your spare bedroom that you sometimes crashed in. You were laying in your bed, attempting to muffle your cries, clutching your stomach and head. A sliver of light from the door widened until you realized Rex was standing in your door way.

You turned, looking over at him and scowled.

"You-" A gag cut you off. Were you trying not to vomit? Boxes of some of your things, you were clearing out for your maternity leave but it looked like you were getting ready to never come back. Then he remembered what you said. When it was old enough, you'd be flying back home with the rugrat.

"You are the last person I want to see. Piss off." And it would've worked better if you didn't immediately throw up in your hand and make a mad dash to the toilet before the rest of your vomit got all over you. He was a dick, not a monster so he followed.

While you threw up the contents of your stomach into the toilet, he couldn't just let the team hear. You'd clearly gone out of your way to avoid them seeing you crying and suffering already. He slid into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

When you finally did stop, you slumped against the bathtub. You sat, staring blankly at the floor before your face crumpled and you buried your face into your hands. You began to sob, with vomit on your shirt and your shoulders shook violently.

After a moment of Rex drowning in guilt you let out a shaky breath and hugged yourself.

"I miss my mom."

You staggered to your feet before you shoved him roughly out of your way into the sink, then left the bathroom. He heard wind from your room, realizing you were flying home and for the first time in a long time Rex began to think. He began to think real long and real hard.

It took the two of you to make it. You chose to keep it. You didn't even try to force him into fatherhood. The least he could do was loan you a hand until it was time for you to go. Without realizing it, he was cleaning the toilet. Everyone else was downstairs partying, celebrating their newfound strength as a team and winning the fight. And Rex was cleaning your vomit off the toilet, because without him you wouldn't be throwing up in the first place.

It wasn't a total 180 from there. He was still Rex, you still didn't even want to talk to him, but he tried. He left little treats he remembered you like only for them to be left untouched completely where he left them. Except for the time you stormed down the metal steps of HQ and threw the box of strawberry waffers at his face.

"Fuck, ow!"

"We didn't need shit from you then. We don't need a fucking thing from you now."

As you turned to storm back up the steps he grabbed your arm and narrowly avoided a swift slap.

"Listen, listen. You're right. You're right to be mad at me. I was being a dick."

"You still are."

Wrestling your arm free, he remembered that fire that attracted him to you in the first place. He caught you by your shoulders before he realized you could just kick him in the balls and settled for just grabbing one of your arms. Your back turned to him, he wasn't even sure if you were listening, but he had to speak now.

"You're uncomfortable, I know you are. And I know it's partially my fault. At least tell me what I can do to ease your discomfort just a little. You hate me, it's my fault. But let me help. Just a little." The tension in your shoulders dropped just a bit.

"...I'm having really strong cravings for hot chocolate."

He didn't start falling in love with you for a while afterwards. You were on maternity leave now, but he climbed through your bedroom window with the bacon wrapped shrimp you had requested when he texted you, he was out if you were hungry. He spun around on your desk chair when he realized. You've been pregnant for a while now. While you devoured the shrimp he noticed.

At six months you didn't look three months from giving birth. You seemed to be enjoying his presence just a bit now. Sure, there where changes but those were more so personality wise. You no longer snatched the food from his hands anymore and sent him away, you even let him sit less than ten feet away from you sometimes. Infact, you had the bump of a three-month pregnancy. Did you just have a small baby growing in there?

"It'll be a big one." You said, wiping your fingers as you watched Annie on your laptop.

"Really? It doesn't look like it."

"I'm not far along yet. But-"

"You're six months pregnant."

"Oh. Because my planet is so far away from my own solar systems Sun, my planet rotates slow. Time is different. Years are longer. I did some math; I'll be pregnant for about a year and a half.

"A YEAR AND A HALF?!"

"Shut the fuck up! Yes Rex, on my planet it wouldn't be so long. But the time is weird here, everything moves so fast." You stifled a yawn as you sipped your milkshake.

"...Do you think it's gonna tear you in two?"

You giggled. And his diversion worked. You spoke about home before, but since you got pregnant it seemed like you were plauged with constant home sickness. It had to be hard for you to be away from home this way. When you were going through something so momentous, and your planet was a weeklong flight. That was if you flew without sleeping and pee breaks.

"I don't want to think about that. I already know the birth is gonna hurt."

As you laughed, the light shifted around you. He noticed things on your face he never noticed before. The way your mouth curved when you smiled, the way you covered your mouth when you laughed, the small crinkles around your eyes. You were hot before, he knew that. It's why he fucked you. But he never noticed that you were more than that. You were beautiful. Genuinely beautiful.

And after that night he tried to fight it. He didn't want to be a parent. But he couldn't date you without being a part of his own kid's life. That would be low even for him. As your stomach grew so did his feelings for you. Infact, when the Lizard League put a hole in his skull, he woke up to keep fighting because he pictured you.

He was being dragged down into death, seeing his life flash before his eyes, and then finally he saw you. But it wasn't a memory. It was a prophecy.

His head laid on your lap, you smiled down at him while you squished his face in your hands. Next to him, a small bundle wrapped in a blanket slept soundly. He heard birds singing sweet songs, the Sun casted warm light on his skin and gave you a radiant glow, and you were brighter than all of it. You leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead, telling him he had to get up and go. There was an emergency. He had to go, he had to fight, had to blow shit up.

He did and from there, the rest was history.

#black reader #x black reader #x reader #fem reader #multifandom account #rex splode #rex sloan #invincible x reader #invincible smut #invincible characters #invincible fluff #parenting #fluff #rex splode x black reader #rex sloan x black reader #invincible #invincible angst #rexsplode angst #rexsloan angst

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hyuckhyukahansol · 9 hours ago

Text

Hold On, We're Going Home

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"you don't even notice the click of him locking the door while he turns the lights off before he curls up behind you, chest to your back as he wraps his arms around you slowly. sensually. mark's breath fans on the back of your neck before he plants several slow kisses there, moving until he reaches right below the shell of your ear. all the while, his large, warm hands can't seem to to anything other than wander under your hoodie to caress your waist and stomach. you let out a breathy and quiet chuckle.

"babe, what are you doing?" you ask in a whisper.

"you know you're mine, right?" mark whispers into your ear, completely ignoring the question, yet answering it at the same time.

your skin heats all too quickly. you know exactly what this is. he's jealous. of what, you're really not sure.”

you're a popular soloist and your secret boyfriend is a kpop idol. when your Canadian tour dates line up, you both opt to stay at his parent's home in Vancouver, but even with his parents asleep downstairs, mark just can't seem to keep his hands off of you after your show.

tags -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ idol!mark, soloist!reader, fem!reader, reader is american, porn with minimal plot, established relationship, childhood room, twin bed, missionary, jealousy, possessiveness, praise AND degradation, mentions of reader being small, ATTEMPTED quiet sex, sacrilege if you squint (theres a jesus on his wall), size kink if u squint, marks parents are mentioned but theres no dialogue with them because im not writing that, reader has her drivers license, implied that reader is not christian, reader's love language is being mean to mark, EXTREMELY unserious

nicknames ┇ his babe yours princess!! baby... etc

date started┇march 20 2025

date posted ┇march 28 2025

wc ┇4.4k

A/Ns ┇ nothing like a good "lets fuck on my childhood bed!"

room based on the mark's homecoming teasers for firstfruit.

umm mark probably doesnt have a childhood bedroom in canada because he was like 13 when he left for sm and also he lived in new york before that so lets just pretend for the sake of the fanfic that he does ok? ok! >_<

in section 2 i mention bible study as a way for me to skate around actually writing meeting marks parents LMFAOOO um im unsure if this is a popular thing everywhere else but like i know in the south at least its like youth group but for older people where they'll have a like mini religion discussion thing? i dont know i havent been to church in several years and i'm atheist 😭 iykyk i guess

reader's dialogue is based off of me and im a very strange fella and i cannot be serious for one single second so its kind of bad 😭

FINALLY NOTE im completely a virgin like ive never even kissed anyone LMFAO so if the smuts seems inaccurate at all thats on me because i refuse to let a real obtainable man get that close to me 😆

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𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

01. prologue

"no way our tour dates line up."

you were in disbelief when your boyfriend called late at night to inform you that you would both be in the same city at the same time and that it just so happened to be where his parents lived: vancouver.

you were tucked under your warm, plush duvet with an unnecessary amount of pillows under your head and you groan as you sit up from them, cold air hitting your newly exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its chilly wake.

"i'm serious dude, the company usually lets me visit my family when we go for canadian stops. i could see if i can stay at my parent's house for longer.. and you could come with me.." mark's voice got higher as he started adding to the equation. "and maybe you can stay.. and meet some people.."

"you're saying you want me to meet your parents?" you reply blankly, holding in a laugh at your boyfriend's shyness about asking. you lean back in your bed, cotton fabric sighing with effort.

"see? that's my girl, i knew you'd get it." your face heats at his words.

"oh dude you're flirting..." you quote him, earning a sound of annoyance from the other end of the call. you snicker.

"you actually have to stop watching those fan compilations." you giggle at how easily it both annoys and embarrasses him that you keep up with what he does at work.

"okay, i'll stop watching fan compilations of you when you delete your folder of edits of me" you offer jokingly through your fit of laughter.

he scoffs "that's out of the question."

"okay then i guess i get to keep watching videos of you goofing off at work."

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

02. the twin bed

several months ago, your boyfriend had asked you to meet his parents in person. both of you living in seoul and being music artists meant that trips home were few and far between, so it made sense that mark would ask you to meet his parents in real life once the finally opportunity arose after two years of only seeing them in 2160p on a facetime screen. mark would've asked sooner if he weren't swamped with schedules — between three groups and solo activities, it was near impossible to find any amount of time to fly home, let alone with a secret girlfriend who's schedule was just as packed as his.

both of your tours had already started and you really hadn't seen much of each other since. you were grateful for the large amount of time you had in vancouver: about three nights of time together before you'd each have to take your separate flights to different cities for the rest of your respective tours. you had your show the first night of the three-day stay and his was the night directly after.

mark had taken a plane with the rest of 127 and you opted to take a completely different flight; it wasn't worth the trouble of having to deal with both of your own saesangs on one flight as well as risking being caught. since mark's plane departed earlier than yours, he arrived at his parent's house much earlier than you, having already unpacked what he needed and started catching up with his folks when you rang the doorbell on the single-family home. as you were marveling at the normalcy of the house, your boyfriend swung the door open, giving you a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"did your staff already leave?" mark asked after surveying the street outside and not finding any cars. you turn and look back over your shoulder quickly even though you know you won't find a car there either.

"yeah, dropped me off and then sped away." you answer as you step inside. mark closes and locks the door behind you.

"well, after she got out of the passenger seat because i begged her to let me drive-"

"you drove?" your boyfriend cut you off, eyes wide and eyebrows raised so high that his forehead was wrinkled.

"pfft, yeah?" you roll your eyes dramatically.

"i have my license and i'm a big girl. got here in one piece and everything." you reassure the man as he takes your suitcase and carryon from you.

"dude, you have an american drivers license."

"ooookay? it's basically the same! y'all drive on the right side of the road too.." you playfully push mark's shoulder, pouting as you continue.

"i never get to drive in korea. can't drive on the right there." you switch from a playful pout to a curious expression. "where are mother lee and father lee?" you ask, using your favorite nicknames that his parents thought were so endearing and silly. mark chuckles before answering.

"they're at wednesday bible study, so we have some time to unwind before you have to mingle with anyone other than me." mark explains, walking towards to stairs that lead to the second floor of the house. "my room is upstairs. it hasn't been redecorated since i was, like, 13."

"oh, how fun." you joke, beginning to walk up the stairs with your boyfriend following behind you. "can't wait to see all the.. um.." after a long pause, you stop at the top of the stairs and turn to face him. "i can't finish my insult because i have no clue what little canadian boys like."

mark laughs and you're sure if his hands weren't full he would start hitting you in his fit of laughter like he usually does, but instead he hunches over a little at the joke before directing you to the last door on your right.

the room is small and littered with old books, cd cases, and cassette tapes, all lined up haphazardly on painted wooden shelves that were much taller than you, the freshest layer of brown paint peeling in worn spots to reveal the previous paint job done in teal. in the left corner, against the flaky yellow wallpaper, sat a red guitar and in the right corner there was a boombox on a shelf above a bed. on the right wall was a crucifix and ivory jesus stared down at the bed below it with its mismatched plaid duvet and sheets and more pillows than any one boy needs, all with different pillowcases on them, one checkered blue, another white with blue stripes, the other two in solid teal and red. it was cozy, but something irked you and it wasn't the carpeted floor or the popcorn ceiling.

"you didn't tell me it was a twin bed?" you exclaim, turning to mark who looked like he'd just seen a ghost. he makes his way past you into the room, speaking as he sets your bags on the beg and sits next to them.

"yo, listen: you can have the bed to yourself and i can have the floor if it makes you feel better" mark offers, trying to soothe you. you're still stood in the doorway, leaning against it now.

"i dont want your funky ass twin bed? id rather sleep on the cold kitchen floor downstairs." you complain, frustrated at the entire situation. "I don't want to sleep without you but also I'm not sure we'll both fit comfortably." you express. your boyfriend looks at you funny.

"are you serious?" he starts, getting up from the bed and walking towards you, stopping when he's stood just close enough that you have to look up to meet his eye. "there's definitely enough room. we'll just have to cuddle." he explains. you look up at him through long lashes and pout.

"i'm starting to think the reason you didn't tell me is because you just wanted an excuse to hold me all night." you accuse. mark holds his hands up in a way that says 'you got me.'

"well, usually you complain that i'm too warm and you end up moving away from me after i fall asleep." mark admits with a slight frown, dropping his hands to his side in order to hang his shoulders in an attempt to sulk. he looks so cute when he pouts, large dark eyes shining at you with a hint of an apology for withholding information. you push yourself off of the door frame in favor of draping your arms on mark's shoulders, fingers touching around the back of his neck.

"okay, but you do get super warm and you know i run hot too." you defend yourself. mark pits his hands on either side of your waist and cracks a smirk and you know he's thinking of a terrible joke.

"yeah, super hot."

"ew, that's so corny." you scrunch up your nose, making a disgusted face and he giggles, leaning in to pepper your cheek with kisses that you can feel the smile in.

"you're making me reconsider my option of sleeping alone." you threaten, but he only wraps his arms around you and holds you tight instead as if to say that there's no way you can back out of it now. you accept defeat.

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

03. the concert

mark's parents were just as kind in person as they had been over video call. they just couldn't stop telling you how you were so much prettier in person and how proud they were that mark had found "such a nice young lady." you told them how lovely their home is and thanked them for letting you stay. the meeting was brief since you had to get to your venue for sound check and other preparations, so when your staff arrived to pick you up and whisk you away to your job, you apologized and swore that you would talk more the next day, assuming they probably wouldn't be awake by the time you got back.

sound check was smooth and you enjoyed seeing your fans for the 45 or so minutes it lasted. afterwards, you had your makeup and hair done and put on your first outfit. you made sure to take ample selfies so you could choose what to post after the concert, what to send to bubble now, and what to send to mark since you had down time.

you: [image]

markus 😒😋: my gorgeous gorgeous girl

you grin at your phone, face heating to the point you start to fan yourself. you giggle at your own incoming joke as you look through your camera roll for a video to send to your boyfriend. the video is a clip his fans like to use of him with a blush filter on his face. (you know the one)

you: [video]

markus 😒😋: yeah ok im blocking you now

you: NOOOOO ☹️

markus😒😋: too late. need to start being nicer to your boyfriend

you: but youre so cute when youre annoyed..

markus😒😋: your fans are like really loud by the way

you: ???

markus😒😋: [2 images]

markus😒😋: your number 1 fan

the images mark sends you are one of the stage you're supposed to be on in about an hour and the other is selfie of him, mask hat, and glasses on, in a seat at your venue.

you'd attended each other's concerts before and it certainly wasn't a secret to either of your fans that the two of you knew each other, having done challenges, tiktoks, and other collabs together, but it still would give you butterflies when he would show up to a concert.

you: 🥹 i told you if you would tell me beforehand that you were coming then you wouldn't have to actually buy tickets

markus 😒😋: its no fun when you know already!!!

you: next time get floor tickets so i can have eye candy in the crowd

markus 😒😋: yes ma'am 🫡

the concert went super well. you were on time and your mic was loud enough for once and your costume wasn't itchy and your boyfriend was in the crowd. you were sure multistans had already spotted him there and you hoped that he was having a good time and that everyone was leaving him alone.

during the section of the concert where you walk around and sing into a handheld mic and do fan service, you spot a particularly funny sign. the sign, which was decked out in glittery letters and lots of hearts read: "y/n let me get that nda"

you double over in laughter as the back track plays without main vocals before continuing singing, going over to the fanboy holding the sign and taking his phone to record with it. the fan all but faints when you hand his phone back and blow him a kiss. when the song ends you talk for a bit about your tour so far and read other signs, flirting with your fans (as one does) and drinking water to soothe your throat. you don't particularly even think about what you're doing as you interact with the crowd, simply happy to see them smile.

the rest of your concert goes smoothly and you stay for around 30 minutes after everyone clears out in order to help your staff pack equipment and to make sure you didn't forget anything personal at backstage. when you're changed into a hoodie and some sweats and sitting in the passenger seat of your staff's car, you notice mark hasn't texted you, which is weird. mark always texts you after a concert even if you're going back to the same apartment. you assume maybe his phone died when you shoot him a "how was it?" text and he doesn't respond. you're really too exhausted to think of anything else as the road lulls you into a quick nap as you're driven to your boyfriend's parent's house.

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

04. jealousy, jealousy

mark's parents are asleep when you get back to their home, making for a silent house other than the whirring of the air conditioning and the click of you locking the front door. your boyfriend greets you as you walk through said door with a kiss on the cheek. you take in his already scruffy hair and pajama clad legs as well as the loose t-shirt he obviously just threw on.

"did your phone die?" you ask, worried as to why he didn't respond to you.

"yeah" he rubs one of his eyes with the back of his hand "man, um, traffic was crazy, i only just got here and changed."

mark hasn't been this awkward with you since the first few months you started dating. there's obviously something bothering him but you really don't know how to ask, especially when it's so late and you're still tired despite your nap.

"yeah, i didn't actually drive back so i was able to take a power nap through it." you reply. mark simply hums and turns around, walking to and up the stairs, abruptly deciding he's done with the conversation. you follow him, face twisted in mouth opened, furrowed-brow confusion whenever he had his back to you. mark lingers by the doorway in his room as you pass him to flop down dramatically on the bed, facing the wall, only bothering to kick off your shoes and socks. you don't even notice the click of him locking the door while he turns the lights off before he curls up behind you, chest to your back as he wraps his arms around you slowly. sensually. mark's breath fans on the back of your neck before he plants several slow kisses there, moving until he reaches right below the shell of your ear. all the while, his large, warm hands can't seem to to anything other than wander under your hoodie to caress your waist and stomach. you let out a breathy and quiet chuckle.

"babe, what are you doing?" you ask in a whisper.

"you know you're mine, right?" mark whispers into your ear, completely ignoring the question, yet answering it at the same time.

your skin heats all too quickly. you know exactly what this is. he's jealous. of what, you're really not sure.

your boyfriend continues to kiss around your ear, moving now to your shoulder, each kiss messier and needier than the last. one of his hands moves to cup your breast while the other sits right below your belly button, tantalizingly close to where you can feel your arousal pooling in liquid form. his pinky dips under the waistband of your sweats and stays there as he toys with your nipple, pinching the bud with two fingers, eliciting a soft whine from you to which he hisses.

"have to be quiet, baby. be quiet for me? for me?" he repeats. you breathe out a shaky "ok" as you move your arm behind you in an attempt to feel up your boyfriend, petting his side.

mark snuggles closer and you can feel his erection against your ass as he continues to massage your breast. his other hand finally dives under the waistband of your sweats, middle finger finding your clit oh so easily as he begins to almost pet you, cupping your entire mound and rocking his hands against it, middle finger pressed ever so slightly between the lips and against your bundle of nerves. you try your best to keep your whines down, your once free hand now occupied with covering your mouth. you buck embarrassingly and helplessly against mark's hand.

"desperate, huh? that why you made a show of yourself?" he coos.

you nod. of course it wasn't the truth and you both knew that. you really still weren’t sure what you even did, but your mind was too hazy to do anything except play into his hands, literally and figuratively.

mark begins to rub circles into your clit, using the friction from your panties to add to the sensation of it. you struggle to stay quiet and when you let a particularly obscene sound slip, your boyfriend groans, pulling away from you.

"sit up, baby." he commands as he gets off the bed and drops to his knees in front of you. he runs his palms up your clothed thighs when you turn to face him.

"take this off for me, princess?" he requests.

you oblige, lifting your hips to discard your sweats, deciding your hoodie is too much and discarding that as well. you don't know when mark removed his shirt, but between him locking the door and getting on his knees, it had been tossed to the opposite corner of the room, bunched up and barely visible from the moonlight filtering through the window.

mark pushes your legs open and slots himself between them, kissing the inside of your thigh, face oh so close to exactly where you need him. you look down at him in awe. the way his messy brown hair falls into his prettily-pink tinged face and how absolutely drunken on you he looks when his gaze flicks up to you might be enough for you to cum on the spot. you're practically throbbing for him when he finally presses a kiss to your clothed clit. your breath hitches and you let out a soft whimper at the contact.

"you still haven't exactly told me what i did.." you remind mark as his thumbs hook under the hem of your underwear. they linger there for a moment while he answers.

“i think you know."

you lift your hips once again to allow mark and to slip your panties down and toss them somewhere in the room. the air is cool against the heat of your cunt and you fight the urge to close your legs to keep in the warmth.

"so fucking gorgeous." mark mutters before rolling his tongue against your clit. you let out a loud whimper and he shushes you gently but does nothing more to stop you when he licks a fat stripe up your pussy before sucking your clit and coming off with an obscene pop that has you biting into the hand covering your mouth. he returns to it, making slow circles of it with his tongue while he inserts a finger into you, then two, pumping them in and out and curling them at an agonizingly slow place.

you whimper around your hand for a second before taking it slightly away from your mouth.

"i s-seriously don't know— hah— w-what i did, babe." you manage to get out.

mark pulls his face away from your heat, replacing his tongue with his thumb, increasing to a medium pace.

"touched other people. laughed at their jokes. just missed you so bad, princess. wished it was me.” he melts into the side of your thigh, looking up at you as he answers before focusing intently on the way his fingers move against you. the sound of his fingers inside of you fills the room with nasty squelching. his free hand has been rubbing circles into the outside of your thigh this whole time and you attempt to grab it to hold his hand when he finally speeds up a third time, going a pace that you can finally feel your orgasm building with. he swats your hand away.

"think you deserve it?" he asks

"m'sorry." you reply, opting to place the hand on his sheets instead. you can finally feel your release building and your moans get harder and harder to contain behind your hand.

"mark m'gonna cum, please" you plead with him. for what, you're not sure.

"that's it, good girl." he coos "let it all out, princess."

his praise is just enough to make you topple over the edge of pleasure, orgasm washing over you in waves as you let out a silent cry. mark finger-fucks you through it, not bothering to stop even when your thighs threaten to crush his head or your foot hits his back, before slowing and then finally pulling his fingers away once your clenching ceases, bringing his hand up to his mouth to lick it clean whilst you catch your breath.

"lay down, if i don't fuck your brains out right now i'm seriously gonna lose it." your eyes widen as you reposition yourself so that you're laying on your back while mark discards his pants and underwear. he crawls over you, holding himself up on one forearm as you start making out, tongues melding against each other. he breaks from the kiss to lean back and put one of your legs over his broad shoulder. he teases you, rubbing the tip of his fat cock against your still-sensitive clit.

"nobody else can do this but me right, princess?" he asks and you can hear his breath hitch as he continues to rock himself against you. you shake your head in response.

"need it so bad mark." you plead with him, tired of the teasing and the empty feeling in your core.

mark lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in slowly, inch by inch, coupled with quiet groans. the stretch is something you're never used to no matter how many times the two of you fuck; the way he fills you is delicious.

he pauses when he's fully inside you, leaning over you, causing the leg on his shoulder to fold back on you. he kisses your neck and jaw and nibbles at your ear he pulls out until just the tip remains and thrusts back into you, causing you to let out a loud combination of a whine and a strangled groan, to which mark quickly covers your mouth with his hand. he starts slow, rocking in and out of you at a leisurely pace. his free hand that isn't muffling your noises rests beside you on the bed so that he doesn't absolutely crush you. mark makes sure not to fuck into you too hard, worried the loud sounds of skin on skin might wake his parents up.

"think you can cover your own mouth for me?" he asks and you nod.

he pushes himself up so that his chest is no longer flush with yours and his hand is no longer covering your mouth. you hover the back of your hand over your mouth so that your voice is still audible enough for mark to hear, commanding him to go faster. you cover your mouth as he obliges, and he starts letting out soft moans. they're not nearly as loud as yours but they're so sexy that you almost can't help the way you try to roll your hips up into him in response.

"what would all your fans think?" he says. "folded in half for my cock... all for me." he adds, starting to get lost in the feeling of your pussy pulling him in. he throws his head back and you swear you could cum from the sight right then and there.

something snaps in mark- maybe its how close he is or how warm you are, but he stops caring about the noise and starts making pointed thrusts into you, hitting that sweet spot in you that makes your eyes roll and your back arch off the bed. the sound of his skin on yours is loud and if you weren't so fucked out then maybe you'd care, but your brain is fuzzy and your skin is tingly and the only thing you can think about is how impossibly tight the coil in your stomach is. your hand isn't enough to muffle anything anymore, your fingers keep curling and you're squirming so much that it's hard to contain any sounds you make. mark seems to have forgotten where he is because he just starts praising you like you're alone in his apartment.

"so fucking gorgeous. gonna cum, princess? yeah?" he coos.

through babbles and broken groans you manage to get out a broken "please." his thumb finds your clit and he rubs it in rough circles and you swear you're on fire. your orgasm crashes into you like a crack of lightning and you open your mouth to let out a silent scream. you squirm and kick and mark holds your hips down to fuck you through it, chasing his own orgasm all the while. he cums not too long after you with a chant of your name and a broken, choked moan as he fills you up with ropes of hot seed. your chest heaves and you honestly forget that you even exist until mark's words bring you back.

"you don't think we woke them up, right?"

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A/N ┇OH GOD!!! im actually really scared i hope this isnt as bad as it seems to me i think i just dont like it because im the one who wrote it. i got a bit out of character for mark but like also who knows what hes like during sex. you dont know. i dont know. AHH! um i hope you 🫵 enjoyed it. take a shot every time i said the word you in this fanfic.

I got distracted while editing this because I had nct mvs playing in the background and 90s love came on… winwin I miss you

#first fanfic in TWO YEARS!!!!!!!! be nice to me guys #lacey's nct fics #my fics #mark lee smut #nct 127 smut #mark lee x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct #nct x reader #nct smut #idk what else to tag this

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