She’s So Cute

🫠🫠

171105 twice - likey @ inkigayo // jihyo (for anon ♡)

Oh my goodness I loved this, especially the quote from Deki saying that Sana “‘stole his woman’” 🤣 thank you <<3

upskill from student to parent

synopsis: one of your students has the most obvious crush on you, but you have the most obvious crush on his mother.

warnings: swearing? maybe idek AHAHA

w/c: 6.9k

a/n: kind of an homage to my fav person on this app @miinatozakiii ‘s first published work the kindergarten teacher sana 🙂‍↕️ happy late one year anniversary babe 🥰

⋆✐ೀ⋆

“alright kids, don't forget i'm seeing most of your parents tonight so if you want to make a good impression, you better start doing your homework because i know most of you don't!"

there are collective groans across the classroom as they pack up their things and leave, thanking you as they head out the door to their next period.

you giggle, recalling the days you were a student in their position, you rarely did your math homework as well.

"ms. l/n?"

you look up from your desk with a smile.

"i- um- i just wanted to s-say- thank you for this lesson. i was really- um- struggling with derivatives when you introduced them last time but you made it really clear this class."

you beam, appreciating the feedback, "that's great to hear hideki! if you have any more trouble in the future please be sure to let me know, i'll be happy to set up bonus small group classes or even individual sessions if you guys need the help."

"t-thanks ms. l/n. that's really nice of you."

"it's my job hideki." you smile, "did you need any help with anything else?"

he shakes his head shyly, hand at the back of his neck, "that was all! thanks again miss!"

"no worries, i'll see you tonight?"

he agrees happily, darting out the door with his cheeks flushed.

it wasn't the first time a student had had a crush on you. it was normally harmless. some of them had tried to confess to you over the years, usually waiting until after they graduated because they thought it’d be okay if you no longer had a student-teacher relationship. some of them would confess while you were still their teacher regardless, those were a little tougher because you had to continue teaching them and watch them pout and lose motivation to do their schoolwork and act awkward around you, no longer wanting to participate in class or ask questions if they didn’t understand something. you’d try to let them down gently, and if you noticed they were struggling with coursework, you’d pull them aside or ask another one of the teachers to check in on them.

most of the time though, they were just simple little crushes that would pass with time or after they moved out of your class. you didn't entertain them but it was cute seeing your students in their awkward teen years discovering feelings for the first time.

you stretch, yawning, but yelp when someone's finger jabs into your exposed armpit.

there's a burst of laughter and you frown, staring at the intruder.

"really nayeon?"

the english teacher rolls her eyes with a cheeky grin, "saw hideki on the way out. did he give you that confession note?"

"what confession note?"

nayeon hops a little, a hand covering her mouth, "oh shit."

you narrow your eyes. "tell me."

she grins, not really apologetic for having accidentally spilt her student’s secret, "saw him decorating a card and everything in english class today. his grammar was a little off so i just helped him correct it a little. oh ms. l/n. how i wish to be able to call you by your first name. how i wish to be able to hold you and-" she puts on an exaggerated romeo-like voice and pose, back of her hand coming up to her forehead.

you stand up, slapping her lightly with a blush, "why did you encourage him?!"

she shrugs with a laugh, "i'm an english teacher. gotta make sure the kids are using the language right even if it's for illicit love notes."

you huff, packing up your desk and getting ready to go to lunch, "can't he find a nice girl his age to be in love with? i'm sure he has so many options since he's the star player of the school basketball team and everything."

"something about you attracts the kiddies y/n."

you scrunch your nose, "ew. that sounds gross. i don't even like younger men."

"women?"

"no preference. just someone in the same life stage y'know?"

"wait should i be offended? how come no student has ever confessed to me? aren't english teachers supposed to be like a gay girl's awakening?"

you laugh, ignoring the woman's question, dragging her out of your classroom and to lunch together before you both have to attend to your kids again.

⋆✐ೀ⋆

you enjoyed your job, but parent-teacher interviews were probably your least favourite part of it. if you wanted to deal with parents all day you'd have become a primary school teacher.

there were all kinds of them, some who didn't show up, some who didn't care, some who cared too much, some who were clueless, and some who thought they could do your job better than you.

you rub your temples, grateful for the little 5 minute break you're afforded in between quick 10 minute interviews that would normally go on for longer than that. you blink around the room, the other mathematics teachers gathered in the same classroom, nayeon was down the hall with the other english teachers. you were the youngest of them all, there was a pretty big shortage of secondary mathematics teachers across the country, so it meant maths teachers were putting off retirement for longer so they can continue to support kids, but it still left a lot of gaps that could be filled to give your students the best education they deserved.

you've dazed off enough that you barely register hideki almost bounding in, still in his basketball uniform from after-school practice.

he grins, sliding into the seat opposite yours, "hi ms. l/n!"

you return the smile, "hey hideki." even though you knew about his obvious crush on you, he was still one of your favourite students, maybe it was because he had the crush on you that he was more eager to follow instructions and to prove himself and ask questions whenever he was confused that made him one of the easiest to teach.

and then a woman in a sleek beige coat next to hideki catches your attention. your gaze flicks over to hers. and it can't seem to break away.

she's the most beautiful human being you've ever laid your eyes on. her hair is dyed an autumn brown, wavy locks tucked behind ears, expensive gold jewelry adorning her neck, ears, hands. her eyes match the colour of her hair, a deep fawn brown you could stare into for hours. she's got the most perfect nose you've ever seen, you almost itched to measure it, find the angle of it, the way it led to her pretty lips, full and parted, inviting, pulling you in. and then you realise they're curling up slightly, and you snap your eyes back up to hers to see a mirthful glint in them.

you cough, blushing brightly, "h-hello mrs. hayashi."

"just sana is fine. minatozaki sana. i never married hideki’s father." her voice is silky smooth, there's a certain drawl to it too, it makes you want to listen to her voice on repeat, teasing out every inflection in tone.

you can feel your blush reaching the tips of your ears, "o-oh sorry! i didn't know i apologise!"

sana laughs, it's bright and airy, you don't think you've heard anything purer. "nothing to be sorry about. we broke up a long time ago. when hideki was still very young."

you nod, deciding you can't continue staring at her or you may just faint, so you look down at your files, shuffling them around with no purpose, just to give your hands something to do.

"so how's hideki doing in class?" you can hear the smirk in her voice, her attentive eyes watching as you fumble around.

"he's um- very good- he always makes sure to ask questions whenever he's stuck on anything, and he's probably one of my only students who keeps up with his homework."

"well that's good isn't it deki? what were you so nervous for?" sana teases her son as he blushes, mumbling something under his breath.

you speak up again, "nothing to be nervous about. hideki is one of my best students, he keeps up very well despite his extra curriculars."

sana snorts, "i wish we could say the same about his other subjects. it seems maths is the only thing he tries in."

"mom!"

"what? you heard what your english teacher said. you need to spend some more time editing your own work than you do shooting hoops."

you laugh, "i'm sure his english is alright. nayeon can be a pretty harsh teacher."

sana looks at you again with an eyebrow raised, you quickly look away. "just wait until you read some of his work ms. l/n. you'll be surprised."

hideki blushes again, deciding he won't be giving you that love confession note he has in his bag after all.

"is there anything else i can do for him then? any particular areas he may be struggling in or any recommendations of what we can implement at home to make sure his maths marks stay consistent?"

"homework really. maths is a very practical subject so the more practice he gets the better grasp he'll have. especially with strange or out-of-the-box questions exams may throw at him; it helps a lot if he's practiced with as many question varieties as possible, most people are going to get those 1 or 2 markers, but the bigger questions that really need you to apply the concepts you learn are where you'll start to see distinctions between the students that just study and the students that really have the aptitude and patience for mathematics."

"never was me." sana jokes.

you smile, still avoiding her gaze, your cheeks pink, "i'm sure you would have been a prize student ms. minatozaki."

"just sana." she has a teasing smile on her face.

"r-right. sana."

it's quiet for a few seconds, hideki looks between his mother and you, squinting a little in confusion.

sana coughs, beginning to stand and holding out a hand, "well it was nice meeting you ms. l/n. i can finally understand why hideki goes on and on about his gorgeous maths teacher."

"mom!"

you blush again, taking her hand, almost melting at how soft it felt against yours, forcing yourself to meet her eyes again to be polite. you have to bring your other hand to hold your wrist when you shake it, to support your jelly-like arm in her presence. "it was nice meeting you too sana."

she tightens her grip, smirking a little, "i hope this won't be the last i'll be seeing you. have a good night."

and with that she's off, hideki whining and complaining next to her about how she's embarassed him. it was a little funny considering their height difference, hideki was a basketball player so he had to be tall for his sport, and sana was just a few centimetres shorter than you, though her aura commanded attention, her posture was perfect, you're caught staring at the slight sway in her hips as she walks away, but you quickly reprimand yourself, blushing even brighter at having realised you were just checking out your student's parent.

god she had your mind a mess, and you had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time for this to happen.

⋆✐ೀ⋆

you were so out of your comfort zone. you barely knew anything about basketball. but nayeon just had to drag you to be co-supervisors for your school's basketball team since you didn’t have the funds for a real P.E. teacher. even worse, the parent volunteer just happened to be minatozaki sana, the parent you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since your first meeting with her weeks ago.

nayeon noticed your odd behaviour immediately of course. so being the annoyingly loveable best friend she was, she made herself scarce, herding the kids away with every opportunity and trying to get you and sana alone as much as possible.

that’s how you were now stuck with the woman of your dreams, sharing a hotel room in the place you were staying for the duration of the games.

“are you sure you don’t want me to get another room? the individual room was originally supposed to be meant for you- i can’t believe nayeon let herself get sick and stole it from you.”

sana giggles, plopping down her weekend bag. “it’s alright ms. l/n. i don’t mind sharing rooms with a pretty woman like you.”

you blushed brightly. that was the other problem with sana. she was a flirt. every chance she got she’d make some sort of teasing remark on the way here, or brush a little too close than what was acceptable for friends, and you were barely even friends.

“j-just y/n is fine. i feel weird if someone my age is calling me by my last name like that.”

“how do you know i’m your age?” she smirks.

“o-oh! i just- i mean- i- i’m in my early 30s and you look quite young and but hideki is already 16 so i just assumed um-“

she laughs again, “thank you for the compliment. you’re right. i had hideki when i was 19. his dad promised to take care of him, provide for us, y’know… all the works. he couldn’t take it and left not even a year into hideki’s life. i ended up having to drop out of university and learn to balance work and a baby. my parents weren't any good either, said it was my fault for getting knocked up so early in my life and that i should've been prepared for the consequences."

you perch on the end of your bed, listening attentively while she unpacks her things, "i'm sorry you had to go through that."

she shrugs, "made me who i am today. and plus i have hideki now. and he'll always have me. what about you? any kids? partner?"

you blush as she turns back to you, copying your stance and sitting on her bed facing you. "no. i’ve always been around kids so there’s not exactly a ton of romantic prospects.” you joke.

sana laughs, “what about nayeon?”

you cringe immediately, “ew gross no. we’re just friends. there aren’t that many young teachers that aren’t already married and who aren’t spread all over the country so nayeon and i easily clicked because we’re similar in age and single. not that it’s difficult to get along with the older teachers there’s just some things that we’ll be able to do that they might not necessarily want to anymore… like drink or whatever.”

“are you looking for anyone then?” there’s a smirk on sana’s face that you know can only mean she’s up to no good.

“u-um- well- i mean- uh- like if it comes it comes i’m not actively looking for it. i’m happy with the kids even if i die old and alone because there’s always going to be more kids to teach so i’m never really going to be alone unless i quit or get fired.”

“i really admire teachers y’know. you can take care of a classroom of kids and offer them knowledge when someone like my ex boyfriend couldn’t even handle one child.”

while you were talking, you didn’t even notice that sana had moved onto your bed, sitting next to you, shoulders touching, eyes peering into yours.

you chuckle awkwardly, “w-well i’m actually not that great with younger kids.”

sana frowns, “don’t do that. bringing yourself down to defend a shitty man are both things i don’t want to hear. from what i’ve seen, you love your job and you really care about your kids. you should be proud of that. teachers don’t get enough of the appreciation they should.”

“t-thank you sana.”

“of course.”

it’s quiet after that, and more than awkward. you have no idea where to look, suddenly conscious of her body pressed against yours, fiddling with your hands, feeling sweat build up.

sana just watches you with a glint in her eye, observing all of your actions.

she breaks the tension that seemingly came out of nowhere first, “how do you feel about me?”

your eyes widen, not expecting such a straightforward question, “s-sorry?”

“you’re nervous. do i make you nervous y/n?”

your blush was pretty much permanently fixed on your face now.

“u-um-“

“it’s okay if i do. i just hope it's for the right reasons." she pouts. it's criminal. "you'd tell me if there was something else right?"

"r-right! yes of course yes-"

"good. so you're nervous because you find me attractive?" her pout morphs into a smirk within nanoseconds.

"um- i-"

"you said you'd tell me if it was something else remember?" and then she's straight back into a pout. it was giving you whiplash, the change in expressions, dizzying you.

"um- i- yes- you are- yes you are very pretty and-"

"so you want to kiss me?"

"um-!"

sana finally lets you go, laughing brightly and moving away to give you some space before you burst or melted.

"just joking y/n. i'm sorry you're just too easy to tease and your reactions are adorable!"

you can breathe again, the oxygen finally reaching your brain now that sana wasn't so close to you, and your lips turn downward, imitating her pout from earlier, "sana!"

she continues laughing, going back to unpacking her things while you collect yourself and think just how you were going to survive the two days away sharing a room with the potential love of your life who also happened to be a massive tease.

⋆✐ೀ⋆

thankfully, the rest of the night was pretty uneventful. you checked in on all the boys, made sure they had all had dinner and weren't planning anything irresponsible like a party behind your backs or anything. you also checked in on nayeon who in your professional opinion, looked absolutely fine, having ordered room service and was in one of the hotel robes with her feet kicked up enjoying a face mask and a bottle of wine all to herself.

sana also didn't try anything else when you retired to your own hotel room after doing the rounds on the boys' rooms again to make sure they were all in bed and getting the rest they needed before their game tomorrow. you're not sure if you were grateful or disappointed she didn't, but you quickly pushed her out of your mind, needing to rest as well before having to wake up early to take all the kids to the stadium.

you're knocking loudly on the last room you were meant to check on, annoyed the boys were taking so long, you were all meant to meet in the lobby 10 minutes ago for your bus to the stadium.

when you sigh, prepared to rap your knuckles against the door again, it falls away, revealing a distressed hideki and his roommate for the trip.

"ms. l/n! i'm so sorry we're late eric had some trouble um-" he looks behind him, "we're pretty much ready now! just got to grab some last minute stuff and-" he leaves the door open, continuing his ramble while you cross your arms, tapping your foot impatiently, watching the boys run around the room collecting last minute things and throwing them into gym bags.

by the time they're almost done, sana's snuck up behind you, peeking over your shoulder.

"deki! what are you doing? are you the one holding everyone up? what kind of example are you setting for your team if the team captain's late?"

you jump at her voice, not having noticed her standing right behind you. you turn, admiring her side profile, she's got her hair up today, but still looks as expensive as the first time you saw her.

hideki blushes at his mom yelling at him, picking up his pace a little and jabbing eric, telling him to hurry up.

sana notices you staring at her and turns with a smile, "hi y/n. missed you this morning."

you fluster immediately, snapping your eyes away, "u-um sorry! i uh- got up early and didn't want to wake you and decided to get breakfast early on my own before making sure all the kids were awake."

she pouts, "you should've woken me. we could've had breakfast together."

"s-sorry i'll remember for next time."

"next time? you planning on waking up next to me again y/n?"

you can hear the teasing tone in her voice without needing to look at her, "i meant tomorrow! tomorrow morning."

sana giggles next to your ear, relenting when hideki and eric finally finish up, slightly out of breath when they come up to you, hideki apologising to you profusely, almost bowing down in the hotel hallway while holding all his heavy gym bags before you stop him, embarrassed enough by his mother watching the interaction closely with a curious glint in her eyes.

by the time you get downstairs nayeon already has most of the kids on the bus, reprimanding the two late boys again before letting them go and telling them to get on the bus as well. she had claimed her sickness was miraculously cured overnight, and that all she needed was a good night's sleep in a hotel room by herself.

she had teased both you and sana, asking sana innocently if she'd want to change rooms again now that she wasn't sick, but sana had said it'd be too much work and she didn't mind sharing a room with you anyway. nayeon elbowed you making an exaggerated show of her eyebrows wriggling around when sana wasn't looking, winking and looking all too satisfied with herself. you ignored her, strutting ahead and onto the bus, crossing your arms and pouting.

sana comes up next, giggling at you and plopping down on the seat next to yours. thankfully, the bus ride to the stadium wouldn't take long this time, the ride here was almost 5 hours long, and sana had taken a liking to sleeping on your shoulder almost the entire way there. you were stiff and couldn't wait to fall into bed when nayeon pulled her sick move and ruined your plans of being able to relax, not possible in the presence of the other woman.

the kids are rowdy and energetic, hyping each other up on the bus. you have to tell them to quieten down a few times but you let them get away with most of what they do, smiling at the sight of them so eager for their game.

when you arrive, nayeon's the first to stand, using her loud voice and commanding attention, her voice that should've been at least a little hoarse from her apparent sickness yesterday.

"alright! remember you're representing your school district now! and you're sharing this space with other people so i don't want to hear you guys as loud as you were on this bus okay? i won't hesitate to bench anyone who fools around too much and that means you won't get to play and you'd have come all this way for nothing understand?"

nayeon really was strict as a teacher, but you knew she loved her job as much as you did.

the kids nod, determined to be good, adrenaline running from the excitement of almost getting to the court.

you step off the bus first, talking to the bus driver and letting them know when they can come back and pick you guys up to go back to the hotel. then the kids are hopping off the bus one by one, and you're making sure they don't run off or do anything stupid while waiting for everyone to assemble.

by the time the team is actually on the court and warming up, you're almost as excited as them, the atmosphere of the stadium hyping you up, sitting on the sidelines with towels and water bottles ready for their breaks. you had tried to study up a little on what exactly went on in basketball, the rules and the basics, the kids may not have a coach but you still wanted to be as supportive as you could even though your job only required you to supervise them safely between the venues and the hotel.

"have you come to a lot of these games?" you ask sana mindlessly, watching as the boys start doing practice shots and drills.

"yeah. i try to go to as many of deki's things as i can."

"that's very sweet. it's really good for the kids, when the parents show up to things they work hard for."

sana hums. "i try."

"he's lucky to have you."

"i think he may appreciate you a little more though." she teases, bumping shoulders with you.

you laugh, "he'll get over it. they all do."

"this has happened before?"

you shrug, "i swear i don't do anything out of the ordinary. maybe i'm just nicer than nayeon."

"so your type obviously isn't kids. what is it?" sana teases.

you blush, "i don't know. i don't really have one i think."

"oh come on. everyone says that. tell me the truth. i won't judge i promise."

you roll your eyes, smiling, "well... i think at this point in my life i just want someone who wants to settle down. i'm not that young anymore and i've already achieved what i wanted in my career so all i really want now is someone to share the rest of my life with."

"boring! c'mon gimme the juicy stuff. like personality, physical attributes." she pokes you with a grin on her face as well.

"fine fine. i guess when it comes to women i tend to like slightly older women, extroverted, good with kids obviously, i don't reaaaally care for all the physical stuff but probably someone around my height i guess."

"stand up for me."

you do as she asks, confused, then she stands up as well, stepping in almost eye-to-eye. you flush immediately. she brings her hand to measure the top of her head, knocking it against your forehead.

then she smirks, "so i'm pretty much your type then?"

you stutter, falling backwards and back into your seat, mumbling incoherently. sana giggles, sitting back down as well.

"if it's any consolation, my type in women tends to be slightly taller, good with kids, a little awkward, gets flustered easily, but loves her job."

you blink at her, still processing her words when the buzzer sounds signaling the start of the game.

sana winks, then turns her attention to the game, cheering on your school's team as they get in starting position. nayeon jogs over to join you both on the sideline bench, cheering as well. you put your muddled thoughts aside to focus on being there for the kids, but sana's confession? was it even a confession? never left the back of your mind.

⋆✐ೀ⋆

your school won. the boys are ecstatic, clapping each other on the back, streamers are thrown, the crowd is wild, loving the game they witnessed.

eventually, the stadium clears out while the boys cooldown. the janitors come and kick everyone off the floor soon enough, the kids still whooping and parading around their championship trophy, taking pictures with smiles all around.

you smile fondly as well, watching them leave the stadium, so proud of themselves. but then there's a cough behind you, and you turn, surprised to see hideki still there, not leading his team off on their victory lap.

"you okay hideki?"

the boy blushes, rubbing the back of his neck shyly, still in his team uniform, sweat running down his body.

"i um- i was actually wondering if we could talk?"

you frown, immediately concerned, "yeah of course. what's up?"

his eyes flit around, making sure the stadium is pretty much empty except for the janitors cleaning up after the game. and then he looks back at you, you're struck then how much he looks like sana, he has her nose, her eyes, you never noticed before but after spending more time with sana, you can start to see parts of her in her son.

he clears his throat again, obviously nervous, wringing his hands out, "u-um- so i promised myself that if we won this game, i'd finally be truthful to both myself and you. so um- ms. l/n... i think i'm in love with you!" he bows deeply with his confession.

you stand there, slightly in shock despite knowing about his feelings for a long time now. and then you feel terrible, having to reject him on what was supposed to be one of the highlights of his high school experience.

you tap his shoulder lightly, non-verbally asking him to straighten up, he flinches at the touch, eyes fierce when they meet yours.

"hideki... i'm sorry. i don't feel the same way about you. you're my student, i care about all of you equally, but never as more than a student."

his face breaks your heart, you see sana in him, it's almost like you made sana cry.

"is it my age? what if i graduated? would you be interested in me after i graduated?" he's desperate, reaching for any possibility where you could return his feelings.

you shake your head, offering a gentle smile, "i'm sorry hideki. i know you'll find the right person for you one day though. that person just isn't going to be me."

his head droops down, hair coming to cover his eyes as he stares down at his shoes, trying to hide his tears. "i understand. thank you for taking the time to listen to me ms. l/n. i'll get out of your hair now." and then he's jogging off behind you towards the exit.

you sigh, turning around, surprised to see sana there, frowning when she sees hideki in tears approaching her.

she looks between him and you in confusion, but hideki reaches her first. she cups his face, asking him what happened, but he refuses to speak, and sana brings him down into her hugging him and patting his back.

she glances at you then, still frowning. your heart sinks, not sure what sorts of conclusions she could be drawing, but knowing right now, it looked like you had said or done something that made her son cry.

she leads him away, you ache to tell her what really happened, but you know you should keep your distance for the sake of your student right now, you just pray sana doesn't think of you any differently.

⋆✐ೀ⋆

the rest of the day goes by in a blur. the boys go out for celebratory dinner. they notice their captain is a lot more down than usual, and they try cheering him up, playing games at dinner, laughing and teasing each other, but nothing seems to be working.

you couldn't help but feel a little guilty, and sana hadn't spoken to you since the game. you're not sure if it's on purpose or if she's just busy keeping the kids entertained and checking on hideki every once in a while, but not wanting to smother him with all his friends around. he doesn't seem to mind though, in fact he only responds to sana, even when his friends try and include him he stays quiet, picking at his food aimlessly.

when you get back to the hotel, you give a speech about how they shouldn't sleep too late even though you could understand their excitement still remaining from winning the championships, they still had to get up early tomorrow so you could take the bus back home. nayeon would normally give the speech since she was a little more threatening than you, but she was also currently wasted, having gone a little too hard on the celebrations with the boys. she was currently leaning on you, almost dozing off as you rattled off instructions and rules before sending them all off to their rooms.

sana's gone with them before you can speak to her, so you sigh, wrapping an arm around nayeon's waist and helping your friend back to her own room, setting her in bed and pulling the covers up, turning off the lights and leaving a cup of water next to her bedside for when she wakes up later.

you feel nervous going back to your own room, unsure of what sana thinks of you now.

you open the door, almost grateful to hear the shower on, indicating the other woman was cleaning herself up.

you anxiously start packing your things up, cleaning around the room a little and grabbing clothes for your shower.

the shower turns off and your heart rate increases tenfold. you still have some time before she comes out though, so you continue to busy yourself, cleaning anything and everything.

"y/n?"

you turn quickly at her voice, almost fainting at the sight of her wrapped only in a towel. you yelp, turning back around just as quickly, "s-sorry!"

sana giggles, padding up to her bed, "it's okay. i left my clothes out here."

you can hear the rustle of her towel being dropped and her starting to dress yourself. your face is burning up, trying desperately to clear your mind of thoughts of a very naked sana standing right behind you, probably watching you make a fool out of yourself.

"i'm dressed." she teases, plopping down onto her bed.

you turn with a sigh, but tense up when you realise her definition of dressed was a very thin camisole and shorts that really shouldn't be considered shorts.

sana smirks at your gaze, crossing her legs and watching the way your eyes follow the movement, drinking in the skin.

"so what happened with you and deki?"

your eyes snap back up to hers at the reminder, the guilt of it all coming back.

"i'm sorry- i didn't- i hope you know i didn't mean to-"

sana giggles, grabbing the towel to start drying her hair, "relax y/n. i figured as much. he wouldn't tell me what happened but i assume it had something to do with his feelings for you?"

you gulp, nodding, not trusting your voice.

"like you said at the game, he'll get over it."

"you're not mad at me?"

she frowns, "why would i be mad at you?"

"well i- i thought you were avoiding me at dinner and- i mean i did just reject your son-"

sana lets out a loud laugh, "i think i'd be more mad if you didn't reject him. and i wasn't avoiding you. were you looking for my attention y/n?" she teases, wringing out her hair.

"oh. i'm glad then. that you weren't avoiding me. i was worried." you mumble, ignoring her question, knowing she was just trying to get a reaction out of you.

she stands up, brushing her hair behind her shoulders, walking up to you slowly. "why were you worried?"

you focus on a spot on the hotel carpet, avoiding her gaze, "i didn't want you to think i was- i don't know- i just didn't want you to think of me differently i guess."

"why do you care what i think of you?"

you blush, "well- i mean- i- you're- you're a parent of my student."

sana hums, still moving closer at a painfully slow pace, "is that all i am to you?"

"uh- well- no... you're um- you're sana."

she giggles, now toe-to-toe with you. "i am."

you almost let out a gasp when her cool fingers touch your chin, tilting your head up slightly to look her in the eyes. her eyes search yours, then they move over your face, tracing your features. you lick your lips unconsciously, the tension between the two of you unable to be explained by a simple parent-teacher relationship, or even a friendship anymore.

"it's funny." her voice is lower now, spoken right onto your lips, there was no need for volume, you were only inches apart. "i almost wonder if my ex would've fallen for you too."

you're dizzy from being so close to her, mind playing catch up. "t-too?"

"yeah. hideki fell for you. i wonder if you could just have my whole family wrapped around your finger."

you gulp, not really following, just letting her do whatever she wanted to you.

she leans in even closer, eyes dropping to your lips.

"what about me?"

"w-what about you?"

"you rejected deki. how about me?"

you inhale shakily, "are you confessing?"

she smiles then, "was it not obvious?"

"no." you breathe out.

"why not?"

"you're too- you're unbelievable."

"what does that mean?"

"i literally can't believe you're real. that someone as perfect as you could exist."

sana giggles lowly at that, "there it is. do you know how long i've been waiting for you to just say how you feel about me?"

"w-what?"

"all that teasing, all the flirting, i paid nayeon to fake sick y'know?"

"you what?!"

she throws her head back, laughing fully now. your eyes follow the lines of her throat.

"deki talked about you all the time at home. i was curious to meet the maths teacher he was so obsessed with. and then i did. and you were just so adorable. i could tell you really loved what you were doing, and you really cared for all the kids. but i didn't want to ask you out in front of my son who has the biggest most obvious crush on you. so i resigned myself to thinking i probably wouldn't be able to see you again. and then you happened to be on this trip. so i tried everything i could to get closer to you, get to know you better, and you didn't disappoint. i can safely say i'm just as obsessed with you as hideki is, dare i say even more."

"y-you are?"

"mhm. and i knew you liked me too. you're almost as obvious as deki is." she giggles, "i was just waiting for you to do something about it. but you're too nice aren't you? didn't want anything that could be between us to affect your job and your relationship with the kids."

you hadn't even noticed sana had paid so much attention to you. she had picked you apart completely, you felt so exposed in front of her now, but it wasn't unwelcome, you were just embarrassed at the way you've acted around her, thinking how many times you've replied dumbly or said something stupid while she knew you had a crush on her. you cringe at the memories.

sana laughs again, poking at the scrunch in your nose, "so can you say it officially now?"

"say what?"

"don't play dumb with me. you know."

you whine, blushing still, but close your eyes, taking a breath again, "i like you sana. i think you're the most beautiful person i've ever seen and your personality and actions are just as consistent with your looks."

sana giggles again, and then all of a sudden, her lips are pressed against yours.

it's soft, sweet, she's curling a hand around your waist and the other around your neck. you weren't the greatest with words, that's why nayeon was the english teacher, but you try make up for it with your actions, pulling her into you deeper and wrapping your arms around her, smiling into the kiss.

sana returns the smile, reattaching your lips, kissing you easily, your lips slotting together with no rush, taking as much time as you wanted to explore each other.

that night, when you come out of your shower, you find sana curled up in your bed, patting the empty space next to her for you to squeeze into, making sure she had enough space so that she wouldn't fall off the edge. you find that she's a big cuddler, not that it should've surprised you, she was always a very physically affectionate person, and you were still getting used to being on the receiving end of all of it, but you adored it.

the next morning, you'll keep to your promise and wake sana up with a gentle kiss on her lips, brushing her hair out of her face and studying her sleeping features carefully, committing everything to memory, still in slight disbelief that such a woman felt the same way you did.

you talk over breakfast, finding yourself much more at ease now that you knew she knew how you felt about her. she still takes every opportunity to tease you though, loving the way you blushed and stuttered around her.

what's hard is deciding what to do after you get home. you still wanted to keep your distance from hideki so that he could get over you, and sana agreed, saying it would be best if the both of you kept your relationship a secret for now. she was almost excited, talking about how it would be exciting and fun to sneak around like kids again, having to hide your relationship.

she's right of course, but being with her specifically probably makes it ten times harder than it normally would. she'd come to your school with bunches of flowers and lunch, acting innocent and surprised when you have to hide her and find an empty classroom for you to spend the lunch date she springs on you. she'll never stop loving to tease you.

you finally tell hideki about 2 months into your relationship. he seems to take it okay, but when you're curled up in sana's bed later, she tells you he complained to her about how she 'stole his woman', and you both end up in a giggling fit, laughing at the turn of events. regardless, you're still grateful, grateful you were able to meet her, and somehow bewitch her into falling for you. you were the luckiest person alive, and only sana would disagree, saying that was only true for herself.

Fuck man this was just beautiful, such a great read

it isn't living if you're not with me

hirai momo x fem!reader

summary: you look exactly like the music you play: heavy beats and low bass lines and a voice that sounds like a caution sign. your black hair's up in a ponytail, side shave visible on the right, your ripped jeans disappearing into doc martens. your piercings are similar to jihyo's; there's the industrial bar, two or three on your lobes, an orbital, a helix. your shirt's white, half-tucked into your jeans, with the word boys on it framed by the black outline of two hands raising the middle finger.

i figured out what i believe in, momo says.

music? you ask.

you.

tags: pop punk/punk rock!au ; fluff ; smut ; pieces of mihyo ; brief mentions of minsung (skz) ; almost everyone has a piercing of some sort :) ; momo has a dragon tattoo ; drinking ; cursing ; not proofread!!! + anything else i've missed

author's note: hallo

it's something simple, inconsequential. the two of you meet at a festival, headlining the main stage on different days. momo's band plays on friday. yours is saturday. there isn't much else to do aside from drink and watch the other artists perform; it's a bad medley, if she's being honest.

friday night is loud, frantic, pulsing. the beats synthesize like something born in a lab. jihyo's high notes on the keys and dahyun's steady drumline combine into the reminiscence of a time none of them were alive for. it's like if the 80's aesthetic were drenched in apathetic millennial existentialism, mina always says with a grin; and, well, the lesbians love it.

momo sings; most of the crowd follows her. she can only see as far as directly in front of the stage when the lights are on. the ball of her tongue piercing presses against the roof of her mouth. there's only one face she recognizes.

you're off to the side with your band's drummer, singing along. the two of you are both bobbing your heads, pausing to talk and laugh occasionally. you both must've used your passes for vip access. momo's nerves flare underneath her skin, opening, touch starved. you stare directly at her with your lips curled. you know every single word to every single song, though you sometimes seem distracted by momo's fingers on her guitar.

you stay until the end. the lights dim and drop; momo hands a stagehand her instrument, starts unwiring herself. the crowd thunders outside, cheering. momo thinks of your mouth shaping into an o, whistling.

"what's the rush?" jihyo asks, tightening her ponytail, hand slipping down to her industrial.

"hot date," dahyun supplies with a wink, ripping off her sweatband.

"y/n y/l/n," momo says shortly, ducking behind a stage technician and heading for the door.

the crowd's somewhat dispersed, idling. the patches of dirt stick out against the grass, littered with trash. momo glances around the pit. you're gone.

momo's only a little drunk by saturday night. jihyo a bit more so, and tzuyu not at all. they're following a man with a shirt that says event staff around the perimeter of the main stage.

"she's on in ten," tzuyu says, checking her phone for the time. "nice of her to watch us yesterday."

"she knew our songs," momo says distractedly, following their security escort through a roped-off area of the grass. "you don't have to come if you don't want to."

"i want to get a good look at her," jihyo says, fiddling with her piercing again. "what if i'm her type?"

momo tosses an amused glance back, eyes her torn-up black tights, her high boots, her loose, long black dress, her necklace. "you aren't."

"how do you know?"

"because i'm her type."

jihyo harrumphs under her breath. "you're conceited," she says, slipping through the front gate to the vip area. "that's what you are."

"maybe." momo looks at the others in the pit with them; a few people she recognizes by face only, from bands she can't name. "you thought i was your type for a while."

"i was new at this," jihyo says offhandedly. "you're hot and gay. unfortunately, your personality—"

momo laughs, leaning against the bars as the lights dim. "right."

you look exactly like the music you play: heavy beats and low bass lines and a voice that sounds like a caution sign. your black hair's up in a ponytail, side shave visible on the right, your ripped jeans disappearing into doc martens. your piercings are similar to jihyo's; there's the industrial bar, two or three on your lobes, an orbital, a helix. your shirt's white, half-tucked into your jeans, with the word boys on it framed by the black outline of two hands raising the middle finger.

"ugh," jihyo says boredly from behind her. "you are her type."

you stumble off stage, laughing with your band. the lead guitarist, a guy whose name momo thinks is minho, has his arm around you. you stop when you see momo standing there, shoving him off of you. minho's too wired up, following your keyboardist off into the back, barely noticing you're not with them.

you're smaller in person than momo'd thought you'd be, despite your boots — they have a higher, thicker heel than momo's do, giving you an extra inch or two. you're probably about five-six or seven compared to momo's five-nine. you're beautiful, magnetizing. you entirely deserve the screaming crowed beckoning you back to stage.

"hey," momo greets.

"hi," you say, tongue darting across your upper lip. "you're momo. hirai momo. from wallflower."

"you're y/n. y/n y/l/n. from alien."

you grin. you're still covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the show but you're not self-conscious about it. "did you actually know that, or did you hear us introduce ourselves?"

"i saw you at our show yesterday." momo takes a step closer, hands tucked casually in her pockets. "i came out tonight to hear you play."

"is that right," you say, not like a question. "just to hear us play?"

"not 'us'," momo says. "you."

you raise an eyebrow, tonguing your lip piercing. your eyes drop interestedly to the full length of momo's tattoo, a dragon winding all the way up her arm before disappearing into her muscle tee, black with a large white xxx written across the center. the stage crew move around you both, busy and unbothered. the two of you are both too contained and nothing.

"i love your music," you say after a pause.

"i know," momo answers, hinting to arrogance. "that's why i'm here."

your smile quirks again. "oh," you say, understanding the insinuation. "that's why you're here."

momo shrugs, stepping even closer. "i'm your type."

"you are," you agree. you slip a finger through momo's belt loop, tugging her in slightly, examining her subtly, appreciatively as you do so. you lean up on your toes, lips hovering above momo's, and murmur, "but i'm not that easy."

momo's mouth curls aloofly, smirk almost detached. there's a trap here, somewhere. there's a path to undress. the challenge says kiss me anyway, it's what i want. but she's learned a few of her own lessons.

"oh, i didn't think you were," she says. "i just thought it was about time we got acquainted."

she wraps her fingers around your wrist, gently loosens her grip, lets your arms drop separately. you only still, cataloging her movements, motions. the two of you are both so contradictory to your words.

"i'll see you around, y/l/n," momo says lightly, sirens of an undertone. you sense the storm.

"until the next one," you answer, watching her leave.

"you didn't even kiss her," jihyo drawls on the bus as she cracks open a beer. "have you lost your touch?"

momo rolls her eyes, boots kicked up on the arm of the sofa. "i purposely didn't kiss her, princess."

"semantics," jihyo waves away. mina chuckles harmlessly from where she's sitting on the opposite couch.

"look," momo says, scrolling through twitter aimlessly, "just because you aren't getting laid doesn't mean you need to be bitter that i'm about to be."

"oh, ouch," tzuyu calls, snickering all the way from the front seat. jihyo shoots her a dirty look, harrumphing.

"easy for you to laugh at," jihyo says. "you don't even like sex."

momo doesn't have to see her face to know the expression she's pulling. "it's not my thing," tzuyu says, indifference evident.

"whatever." jihyo tosses her hair over her shoulder, tucking it behind her ear. "i could get laid if i wanted to."

"oh, yeah?" momo asks, feet thumping against the floor as she lowers them. "prove it."

she stares jihyo down, realizing after she possibly should've thought this through; jihyo never backs away from a challenge, like it's composed of hooks that dig in. she rubs a finger over her industrial automatically, clearly thinking, until her eyes narrow, smile spreading sharp.

she rests her bottle back on the counter, steps around it towards momo, holds her gaze even as she angles her body towards mina until the last possible second. mina looks up at her, surprised without confusion, phone falling to the side.

it's almost as if jihyo sizes her up for a moment — takes in her thighs showing through the rips in her jeans, her loose burgundy tank top slit down the sides, her black bra visible underneath — and then she bends over, cups mina's face in her hands, and kisses her.

momo's eyes feel too big for her skull, her jaw hanging off hinges; mina freezes for less time than momo expects before her hands spread against jihyo's hips, nudging her closer, and jihyo straddles her lap, fingers brushing through mina's undercut above the back of her neck. momo watches mina's mouth open a little too widely, sees how jihyo sinks dangerously low.

"are you fucking serious?" momo asks bluntly after a solid minute.

jihyo breaks the kiss, smirks brazenly, and slides off of mina's lap in an oddly graceful manner. mina, to her credit, is more stunned than anything, as if her brain's barely finished processing the situation. her lips are smeared red.

"i can get laid if i want to," jihyo says again, slowly, and runs a finger around her mouth, wiping away her lipstick. she walks back around the counter and reaches for her beer.

it's hard to get a moment alone, but they manage. it's midnight and they're standing outside a mcdonald's at a rest stop off of highway 10, passing a joint between them. the night's warm but momo likes the feeling of the heat sinking into your leather jacket.

she says, “you and jihyo, huh.”

mina exhales, head tilting back. “i suppose so.”

“you were into it.”

“i know.”

momo presses her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “you’ve been into it before, haven’t you?”

mina grins in amusement, still staring at the dark sky. “yeah,” she admits guiltlessly. “i slept with her a few weeks ago.”

momo's eyebrows shoot up. the tip of the joint lights, stutters. her lungs are too big for the cage they're contained in. "you slept with her?"

"yeah," she says like it's nothing, shrugs. "she said i needed to relax, and that it'd been too long since i dumped my ex to count as an excuse any longer." she pauses, brushes her fingers against her undercut, the short bristles of hair. "she made some good points."

the insinuation speaks for itself. "i bet she did."

"whatever." she takes the joint from momo, brings it to her lips. "it seemed like a good idea, at the time."

"doesn't it always," momo says, and laughs after, finally settling against the idea with the smoke. it's strange; not because they don't work together, but because they do. "you and jihyo."

"she's— you know," mina says, glancing towards the bus. "she's so... hot-headed and stubborn. i think it's kind of cute."

"well, don't ask me to sing at the wedding."

she shoves momo's arm, laughing with her. "shut up."

it's a friday a week later when your tour paths cross. the two of you are playing separate venues on the same night, but your show ends an hour after hers. it's perfect.

jihyo tags along again, this time with her arm looped through mina's, fitting against her side. mina's hair is up in a high, messy bun, crisscrossing pattern visible above her neck, eyebrow piercing sharper than the look she gives jihyo when she thinks momo isn't watching. jihyo's dress is grey and falls rippling down her body, barely covers her ass under ragged black tights, wearing haughtiness the same way she'd lined her lips with a dark garnet. well, what's the harm in playing parts.

they're seated upstairs at a private table with bottle service. they only catch the last three songs and the encore, but the encore is momo's favorite, anyway, and jihyo and mina seem content doing shots and snickering behind their hands, leaning in to whisper. you look good, like you always do, with your hair pinned over your left shoulder and white short-sleeve button-up untucked from your tight maroon jeans, blending into higher boots than you'd worn previously. you hold the microphone with both hands in between your bass lines. momo imagines what they'd feel like wrapped around her neck.

"i know that look," jihyo says from mina's lap, smirking arrogantly.

"admiration," momo says shortly.

"lust," jihyo mimics in the same tone of voice.

"now's your chance," mina says, her arms around jihyo's waist. "go corner her in a dressing room or something."

momo slips off the stool, heads for the stairs. "thanks," she says dryly, because she's not about to actually take advice from two girls who got bored and decided they found the other kind of hot.

the bouncer doesn't recognize her, but your personal bodyguard does, and he gestures her up with a nod. "she's the first door on the right," he says, unconcerned, and momo thanks him with a smile.

she knocks on the door twice. the wood's painted black and chipped in a few places, and the knob's tarnished, dull. you call, "come in," and momo doesn't wait to be told again. there's nothing to with hesitation.

"hey," she says, slipping into the room like she belongs there. she kind of does. she belongs wherever you are.

you're toweling off your face but drop it at the sound of momo's voice, hair swinging over your shoulder. you stare, mouth slowly unfurling at the corners, the pages of a book. "hey."

"our show ended earlier," momo answers the unspoken question. she leaves her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. "thought i'd stop by."

your eyes roam blatantly up and down her body, teeth dragging your bottom lip into your mouth. "just in the neighborhood?"

"yeah, actually."

"you look good," you say bluntly. her skin is copper-wired, conductive.

momo half-smirks, a cross between a summon and a calling. "i look even better up-close."

you grin, extending a hand. the show's over; you're running out of things to put on. "well," you say, "make your case."

momo slips her fingers past your palm, up your wrist, stroking the inside of it lightly. "how about," she says instead, "you let me buy you a drink."

you hum, stepping in, your other hand resting against the outside of momo's jacket. "why?"

"because," momo says, voice like the dulcet, low lines of a bass, "you aren't that easy."

jihyo isn't drunk. "i'm not drunk," she tells mina, trying desperately to hide her slur.

"sure, baby," mina says mildly, glancing down as her phone lights up with a text. it's only dahyun, asking where they are. her arms stay loose around jihyo's waist. "i'll let you have that."

"maybe you're drunk," jihyo says, tilting her neck and looking at her through fluttering eyelashes.

"maybe," mina agrees seriously, and jihyo breaks and laughs. "that's what happens when you do five shots in an hour."

she wiggles slightly, and mina spreads her legs, allowing jihyo to slip back to the floor. she turns and faces her, sliding her fingers around the back of mina's neck, scratching through the short, soft hair.

"remember when i thought momo was my type?" she says, grimacing at the concept. she's no good with a poker face; it's endearing when it isn't inconvenient.

mina mirrors her oppositely, grinning. "yes."

"i only realized she wasn't," jihyo says, "when i realized you were."

"that's cute," mina says, lips stretching wider. "are you propositioning me?"

jihyo reaches up, brushes her thumb over mina's eyebrow, rolling the ball, hand dropping down to her cheek. mina only watches in amusement and adoration, less hidden than she'd like to be. there's something about the devil and his girl friday — no, wait, she's mixing up her references — but jihyo stands on her toes and drags mina's mouth to hers, and the devil's definitely in there somewhere.

the crowd's filtered out, hogging the merch table up front. momo leads you back up the stairs, keeping your fingers linked. jihyo and mina are marking out at the table momo'd left them at. momo rolls her eyes; she can't leave them alone for five minutes, literally.

you laugh. "oh, really?" you say, delighted.

"it's a secret thing," momo explains, passing them up for the bar. "i don't know. i'm not getting involved."

"that's probably wise." you slip onto a stool, tucking your chin against your palm, elbow on the counter. "minho and han have a thing like that, but it's none of my business."

"han's your rhythm guitarist, right?"

"yeah." you untangle your fingers, resting your now-free hand against momo's knee. "i'll have a whiskey sour," you say to the bartender.

"tequila sunrise," momo says.

"so, this is your plan?" you ask, stretching out a boot to rest on the rung of momo's stool. "get me drunk and seduce me?"

momo snickers a little breathlessly, caught off-guard. "no," she says. "i'm just here to talk."

"oh, really," you say again, leaning closer to her, eyes narrowing playfully. "so, you've got an end goal."

"don't you?"

"well, sure," you say, taking your drink with a smile and lifting it to your lips. "i think they're two sides of the same coin."

"working for it and making me work for it?" momo guesses wryly, the flirtatious arch of her eyebrow. she wraps her mouth around her straw. your gaze drops interestedly.

"you did your tongue?" you breathe out, letting your arm fall to the wood. "oh, that's hot."

"talk, y/l/n," momo enunciates, picking up your jaw.

momo gets her way; you keep your attention held to passive things for the most part. there's the tour, that's one. the way all roads feel endless and none of them lead home, if home ever existed to begin with. there's your influences, inspirations. momo's mom abandoned her, and it's something she'll never sing about. your parents raised you as an activist, music's your kind of rebellion.

"that's what drew me to punk rock," you're saying. your glass is empty. "fuck it all, really, but believe in something."

momo smiles genuinely; your words are too passionate to disregard. "what if i don't know what i believe in yet?"

you flutter your eyelashes, mouth like a cathedral. "i could probably help you with that," you purr, trailing your index finger along the side of momo's hand, but crack and laugh. you're trying to be too many things at once.

"it was a good attempt," momo says teasingly.

you roll your eyes with a grin but move on. "besides," you say, "you believe in music, don't you?"

"yeah," momo says, mildly surprised. "yeah, i guess i do."

jihyo stumbles over twenty minutes later, leaning her chin on momo's shoulder with a harrumph. "oh, it's you," she says somewhat rudely to you, mina's hands settling on her waist. "you know, momo hasn't kissed you yet."

"i'm aware," you say, holding back a laugh. momo only downs the rest of her drink.

"it means she likes you," jihyo reveals devilishly, straightening up. "otherwise she would've just done it."

"is that so," you say, tongue rolling your lip piercing thoughtfully, throwing momo a look.

"yeah," momo says, shrugging.

"huh."

"yep."

"wow."

"shut up," jihyo interrupts crossly, mina laughing behind her. "just fuck already."

"no," momo says. "get out of here."

mina pends down, whispering something against the shell of jihyo's ear, who raises a single eyebrow carefully and curls up the corner of her lip. "okay," jihyo says serenely (drunkenly). "we're leaving. nice meeting you, y/n. sorry that you're doomed or whatever."

"doomed?" you repeat, your straight face finally breaking; somehow you find jihyo funny rather than annoying.

"oh, please," jihyo says loftily, still slurring her words. "momo's so your type. walking up to the two of you talking or whatever was like— you know when you open a dryer, and it's just like, hot air? that's you. it's hot over here. you want each other."

"are you sure that's not just the two of you?" momo asks, but she's smirking at the mess of a description.

"no," mina finally chimes in. "we're getting laid, thanks. tension's gone."

jihyo laughs, tugging her away towards the exit; you snicker under your breath. it's dim and empty; even the bartender's wrapping up. you say, "is it nice to have a friend so worried about your sex life?"

"jesus," momo says. "no. it's not. my sex life is fine."

"is it?" you ask, chin back in your palm.

"well, when you put it like that," momo says, understanding implications, "it's lacking. what about yours?"

"could be better," you say. "but i think we'll have that for our next date."

your next date is at a burger king on a rest stop off of route six. your buses overlap. it's three in the morning and there are no motels. besides, dahyun says, i really want a whopper.

the night's a little cooler; you are all a little further north. you're wearing sweats and a t-shirt; momo's in shorts and a hoodie. you smile when you see her, gesturing her over with a crook of your finger. she spies the blue of han's hair inside, minho's blond gleaming next to him.

"hey," you say acutely. "should've known you'd be here."

"i'm stalking you," momo says.

"clearly."

"we're in the middle of nowhere," she says. "want me to buy you a milkshake?"

"sure," you say, charmed. "chocolate."

the two of you open the door and step up to the counter; your drummer stares knives into her back the entire time. she doesn't give it weight. she says to the cashier, "a large milkshake. chocolate. thanks."

the man takes her money boredly, gives her the change and proceeds to make it himself. momo grabs two straws; she thinks you blush, but the interior is so drenched in bright colors that she can't be sure of anything.

the two of you walk back outside, strolling around the building leisurely until you both are facing the highway, watching the occasional car fly by. the two of you struggle to drink at the same time, giggling when your noses brush, when you both meet each other's eyes too close and cross.

"i'm going to write a song about you." momo says, because you're somehow just as attractive in your pajamas with a bare face; your lip piercing's out and your hair is up in a loose ponytail. "just so you know."

you release the straw, looking up at her from under your eyelashes, smiling. momo takes the cup, sets it on a groove in the wall by the window, and leans in, capturing your lips. they're cold and you taste like the shake, but she laughs into it, your fingers curving around momo's jaw. momo pulls away slightly, letting the moment breathe, but you chase her mouth, kissing her again, again, and again. momo's arms rest loosely around your waist.

"god," you say, and even your eyes are bright. "maybe i should've just let you do this from the beginning."

you actually write the song first, something momo only finds out when she crashes one of your shows two weeks later. it's thursday night; momo's band doesn't take the stage until friday. you stand at the mic with your bass hanging and you look like heaven, like hell; your pants are leather, and your boots have gold spikes on them. you've changed your lip ring to a barbell. you're like a succubus, sucking out the soul of every other demon in the room, or at least whatever's left.

she finds them easily in the crowd; it's impossible to overlook jihyo's red hair, even when she's wrapped up in mina. they'd insisted on coming; tzuyu's behind them, taking pictures with dahyun to add to her instastory. you slip off the stage with the mic during the bridge of a sogn you don't need to play for and rest an arm around momo's shoulders over the barricade, singing directly to her with a smirk. your voice beckons like a tide, magnetic and ungrounding.

the song, though — the song comes one before the end of the show, when you say casually, "so, i met a girl recently, and she told me she was writing me a song." there's process, and then wild, incoherent screaming. "i didn't tell her i'd already beat her to it. hopefully she likes it."

jihyo shoves her in the back, smirking, as if momo had somehow missed the memo. tzuyu goes, "oooh," and dahyun records her face when the opening notes play. it's sultry but strangely upbeat; it's a feeling and a concept more than it is a simple song — the lyrics are all suggestive and make momo's head spin: oh, it's not about the long and winding road, it's all about my bed and the imprint of your soul — momo wants to dance to it, wants to kiss you to it, wants to soak in it until she drowns.

the band traipses off-stage. momo's already in the wings, smirking. the crowd screams and thunders and storms. you're sweaty and thrumming and your eyes look like flakes of gold under the light. you kiss momo with a smile, one arm around her neck, the other flung carelessly over her shoulder.

"you," momo says.

"what'd you think?" you ask cheekily.

momo grins, steps out of your arms, brushing by all of them onto the stage; you only watch behind her, entertained despite the stagehands' sudden spike in nervousness. the lights flicker on, dim; the crowd is momentarily confused, but starts to scream louder, most of them recognizing her. well, your audiences tend to overlap.

"in case you were wondering," momo says into the mic, "i loved the song," and somehow the only sound she hears is your laughter to the left.

"you're so gay," jihyo says to you both, pulling a face from where she's sitting in mina's lap. you all are on the rooftop bar of your hotel, rented out for the night. minho and dahyun are playing some kind of drinking game in the pool, which the staff — and han — are eyeing cautiously.

"you're one to talk," you shoot back, breaking away from momo's mouth long enough to respond. "last time i saw the two of you, mina was pretty much wearing your lipstick."

jihyo huffs, rolling her eyes. "i like wearing lipstick," she says. "mina doesn't care. do you?"

"mina doesn't care about anything," momo interrupts, her hands on your hips.

"that's mostly true," mina agrees, chin resting on jihyo's shoulder. "she can wear whatever lipstick she likes."

"i don't know a lot of high femme lesbians in punk," you say, grinning. your fingers twist and tangle with momo's. "i'm liking the crossover."

"i'm one of a kind," jihyo says whimsically, and mina hides a grin against her skin.

"i wouldn't go that far," momo replies, and drags your mouth back down to hers.

you come to her show the night next with your band, but momo's song isn't ready and it's just the normal set. you sing along to every word anyway, and the drummer — this girl sana who'd been at the original show with you — doesn't seem nearly as chipper as the last time. like she's enjoying it against her will.

you spend far, far too much time staring at momo's fingers, entranced to the point of disorientation. you're somewhere else entirely, as if momo's singing to you and only you in the presence of a much smaller room. momo thinks you're far too alluring, if punk rock were a person and not a concept, a movement, an ideology.

she finishes her set. you wrap your hands around the sides of momo's denim jacket, tugging her in and kissing her, not caring about the guitar in the way. "you're so hot," you say, "and your voice," but the sentence never ends. momo parts her lips, and your tongue slips through her mouth, ball of her piercing cool and foreign. you pull away, pressing yourself even closer, throwing your head back briefly. "you should take me back to your hotel room," you say, eyelids hooded.

"i should," momo agrees, finally slipping her guitar strap over her head and handing it off to someone who barely even blinks.

"so do it," you breathe out.

"y/n," sana says suddenly from behind the two of you.

"what," you say, tone steadying itself. you don't even look over, too absorbed, electrified.

"we're leaving," she says shortly.

"great," you say, eyes still darting between momo's and down her mouth. "i'm not."

momo peels off her shirt, unbuttons her jeans, strips her own tank top overhead. you run your hands all over momo's body and kiss her like it's your inherited right to. momo's toned and muscular and somehow lacking edges, soft and gentle. you straddle her and laugh until momo gives you a reason to stop, digging her teeth into the crook of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your chest, fingers dancing on the inside of your thighs until you laugh again. but that's what sex is, what it should be; the two of you are just happy to be in bed together, sharing skin.

"i'm so bored," you complain over the phone. "i can't believe we don't see each other for another week."

"i know," momo says, laying in her bunk. "you just had to go south, didn't you."

"it's not like i planned the tour," you reply mildly. "don't you miss me?"

"more than anything."

"you're gay," you say. "at least mine's over after that."

"true." momo examines her fingernails, reminding herself to trim them before saturday. "what are you going to do when it ends?"

"follow you on yours, obviously."

her lips quirk. "good," she says. "you can hear my song for you."

"good luck topping mine."

"oh, i'm going to top a lot of things."

silence, and then a snort, "let's not get ahead of ourselves here," you say, rustling around, and momo presses the home button on her phone just to see your picture, your body hidden under white sheets and your smile spreading to your eyes.

it's late at night; it always is. they're musicians, and a good show often keeps them wired until four in the morning. jihyo and mina are sitting across the couch near the kitchen, sharing a single beer because jihyo couldn't finish it alone. she has a hand resting on mina's knee and she strokes it occasionally, absent-mindedly.

"jihyo," mina says, tucking jihyo's hair behind her ear.

"hm?"

"you know," she says softly, "that i like you, right?"

jihyo's mouth quirks bemusedly. "i'd hope so," she says, leaning closer to mina. "isn't that the point?"

mina raises her eyebrows expectantly. "is it?"

"oh," jihyo says, understanding; well, there's a lot of sex, and it's not her fault mina's so willing to acquiesce. "yes. it is."

"okay," mina says, grinning as she relaxes. "good."

"i like you," jihyo says, turning towards her, finding her mouth automatically. thankfully she's not wearing lipstick. "i'm a bitch, but i'm not that much of a bitch."

"i don't think you're a bitch," mina soothes, kissing her again.

"yes, you do," jihyo replies, but she's smiling, amused. "you just think it's hot."

"semantics," mina waves away, and jihyo reaches for the rest of the beer, leaning back against her chest.

momo's up front for alien's last show of the tour. mina and jihyo had elected to remain in the vip area up top, sitting at a table with tzuyu and dahyun, who are undoubtedly attempting to ignore them. they're in love now or whatever.

you catch her eye just before the first song and smile so widely you look more pop-punk, like momo, than your own punk rock. you pluck at your bass assuredly and sing and you've never sounded better; none of you have. it's the end, always the end when the energy's the most amplified. you toss momo two picks just before heading off-stage, prepping for the encore; momo hands one to a wide-eyed fan who screams holy shit this is fucking awesome into their friend's snapchat, keeping the other.

you all settle back in your places underneath blue pulsing light. the crowd quiets, preparing, and momo yells out, "marry me!" loud enough to be heard.

you laugh into your microphone; minho starts strumming the guitar but throws momo an approving wink.

"yes," you say, grinning to her. "give me a few years."

"it's all over twitter," jihyo says, gesturing at her laptop. she's wearing her glasses instead of contacts, something mina finds overwhelmingly adorable. "your dumb fucking proposal."

"oh, it wasn't serious," momo says, staring over at you with a smile. "but if they take it that way, it's not my problem."

"i'm hurt," you say sarcastically, your arms around momo's neck, legs thrown across her lap. "that wasn't real? i can't believe this. and here i already hired caterers."

"oh?" momo says, raising her eyebrows. "and what are we having, dear?"

"well, darling, i'd thought a teriyaki-grilled salmon or lemon-herb roasted chicken for the main course might do nicely," you begin whimsically, putting on an elegance. "a nice salad with like— walnuts and raisins or something, just for class; you and i don't actually have to eat it — maybe a soup. oh, fuck it, i don't know."

"i'm thinking burger king," momo says while mina laughs in the background. "we'll split a milkshake."

you grin so widely it pulls at the corners of your eyes, crinkling. you rest a hand against momo's shirt, smoothing it over her heart. "keep this up," you say, kissing her playfully, "and i'll propose right now, only it won't be a joke."

they're practiced musicians; the new song doesn't take a ton of time to learn, the same way yours hadn't. it's why they're all able to pull it off. it's been two months since she first met you, and—

wait, yes, that's the perfect introduction. momo grabs the mic, lets her guitar hang. "so, it's been two months since i met this girl," she says, and the entire venue knows exactly who she's talking about. "they've been the best two months of my life. she beat me to the song, but i think the waist was worth it."

you smile from where you're watching off of stage left. you'd wanted to be closer than the vip mezzanine. momo strums; dahyun crashes on the drums and stutters them. jihyo kicks in nostalgic techno beats. it's more upbeat than yours, more hopeful and optimistic and fun, like it comes with the label no seduction necessary. it's all lines blurring into a story meant for nobody but you to understand; we're binging three a.m. like chocolate and put your tongue somewhere i can taste it. momo glances over, catching you rocking to the rhythm, like the music's in your bones.

the song ends to silence — no, that's not right; it's just that she can't hear anything that isn't you — and she passes off her guitar almost on instinct, beckoned towards your blooming grin and the way you hold your body as if waiting for something to put your weight on. maybe momo's too slow, maybe your rare impatience consumes you; you take long, quick strides over, and momo catches your intention just before it's acted upon, her hands settling under your thighs as she hoists you up, legs wrapped around momo's waist.

you laugh — oh, music's one thing, but this is a sound she'd fight a war for — and kiss her shamelessly, uncaring of who's watching backstage, if anyone is at all. you say against your mouth, "i love it. play it at every show."

momo smiles, cheeks pressing against your palms. "i figured out what i believe in."

"what?"

"you."

momo keeps her word, playing the song for you at every show, regardless of if you're there or not. by now it's spread through the atmosphere; plenty of people show up already knowing the words, casting glances around the pit and trying to peek backstage for signs of the girl they all know it's about.

some music magazine contacts her manager about an interview. you and she are popular, she learns; there are blogs dedicated entirely to the two of you, twitters with the two of you as their icons. she agrees to a few questions before her next show; coincidentally you're there anyway, sitting sideways in her dressing-room chair, leg thrown carelessly over the arm. the journalist's young, about your age, but easygoing and relaxed.

answers in between applying eyeliner, mascara, letting you chime in occasionally for a laugh. it's practiced and simple between the two of you, pressureless. the interviewer says at the end of it, "it seems like you've really clicked."

"sometimes," you say with a smile, "you meet someone, and you just know."

she's playing at your hometown on a saturday two weeks later, nearing the end of her tour's final leg. you bring your parents and momo treats them to an expensive bottle of wine during the show; there are impressions. not everybody approves of pop-punk rockstars.

but you kiss her in front of them afterwards, your priorities made clear. you drag momo over by the wrist, introduces her to your parents casually, your fingers never leaving momo's for long. your father says, "y/n's never been so insistent we meet a partner of hers before."

"oh?" momo says, lip curling. "i'm both flattered and honored."

"shut up," you say, though nobody's quite certain who it's aimed at. "the others were assholes. i've learned my lesson."

"yes, i think you have," your mother says kindly, watching momo watch you with a warmth in her eyes she swears could melt glaciers.

they spend a little more time asking her about her inspiration, her influence, where she got her start, and then they seem unable to help themselves, reminiscing about you. you keep your hand on momo's knee under the table, rolling your eyes at the stories you've heard a thousand times. momo loves it, loves the pictures your sister pulls up on her phone, loves the anecdotes, loves you. maybe that's the wine talking — you turn to her, smile, and oh, no, it's definitely not.

the two of you bid goodbye to your parents under the glow of bright billboard lights and flashing signs. momo's fingers settle through yours, linking casually. she looks at you and finds a beauty so raw she knows she'll never succeed in putting it to lyrics, like seeing stars in a city where the sky's too bright for space. she tugs on your hand. you glance at her quizzically.

"i love you," she says, and your eyes dart between her own. "too early?"

you lean in, kissing her, and there's that familiar slant, that smile. "no," you say, kissing her again, giggle bubbling in your throat. "i loved you from the moment we met."

"i loved you the first time i saw you," momo breathes out, one hand spreading against your jaw.

"what is this," you say, pulling a face, "a competition?"

"yeah."

"oh, okay." you poke your tongue against your piercing thoughtfully. "then i loved you from— a past life or something."

"that's a good one," momo says seriously, going along with it. "i loved you in all of them."

"we'll agree, then," you say, your fingers linked around momo's neck. people move around the two of you on the street, uncaring and dismissive. they'll never be as important to anyone else as the two of you are to each other. "all our lives."

"it's you and me, baby," momo says breezily, and the two of you kiss again until someone wolf-whistles behind you both, a chorus of laughter. a group of three men walk by smirking.

you stare at them down and yell, "fuck you! fucking virgins!"

they don't seem to find you funny. momo laughs hysterically into the crook of your neck and thinks about eternity.

"last show," jihyo says, applying a cherry lipstick in the mirror. "i can't wait to go home."

mina hums her agreement, putting up her hair casually. jihyo reaches back without looking, brushing against her arm. "you're coming with me," she says.

"oh, am i?" mina says moderately.

"yes."

"okay."

"you're whipped," you say from the couch, flipping aimlessly through a magazine.

"says you," jihyo replies without bite, running a finger underneath her bottom lip. "you're literally reading an article about your own girlfriend right now."

"she looks so hot on the cover," you say, unbothered.

"thanks, baby," momo says, in the middle of changing her shirt. your eyes dart up, watching appreciatively, trailing over the lines of her tattoo. whatever; you all have seen each other naked at this point.

"besides, what kind of girlfriend would i be if i skipped all these important details?" you continue, squinting at a page. "she's a scorpio. her favorite ice cream flavor is mochi ice cream. her favorite color is pink."

jihyo actually grins against her will, amused. "you knew all of those things already."

"because i'm a good girlfriend," you state, matter of fact. "do you know mina's favorite ice cream flavor?"

"mint chocolate," jihyo answers without hesitation, and mina nods affirmatively.

momo drops a kiss against your head. "wow," she says. "this room's just full of serious relationships."

momo plays your song with the encore, this time, because it's the most important thing she's ever done, and it only feels right to honor it as such. the crowd screams themselves raw, hoarse, and momo tosses all the guitar picks she'd used that night out into the audience.

she's just finished saying thanks for coming out when you step on stage, walking right up to her, and kissing her in front of everyone. they love it, probably more than they loved the actual show. it's long enough to be earnest, short enough to skip the awkwardness.

"oh, sorry," you say into the mic, wrapped up in momo's arms. "i heard coming out and thought it was my cue. if you didn't know already, i'm in love with her."

you all are close enough to home that you all drive instead of fly. you stay on the bus with them, stretched against momo in her tiny bunk, running your fingers over the line of her jaw, her clavicle. you're always smiling when you're around momo, like your mouth itself is magnetized. the other four are playing cards up front; jihyo and dahyun are each other's throats about the score, and mina' calming tone echoes low, undoubtedly trying to keep peace and doing it poorly.

"well," you say out of the blue, "at least we're good for each other's careers."

"that's why i'm dating you," momo says, following regardless. "the free publicity."

you hum against her chest in a laugh. "is that so."

"totally."

"my intentions were purer," you say. "so i'm probably going to have to dump you now."

momo runs her fingers through your hair, smoothing it away from your face. "tell me about these intentions."

you shift up, meeting her eyes somewhat shyly. "our single drops tuesday," you say.

"i know. i already preordered it."

"i'm writing for our album," you say. "i've been inspired."

momo waits for the conclusion of the sentence, but it doesn't come naturally. you still have your moments of embarrassment. "inspired, huh?"

you press a kiss to momo's mouth as if you can't resist, just because it's there. "what if they're all your songs?" you ask, your smile like spring waiting for the sun. "what if it's all you?"

momo finds your lips again, kissing your cheek, your nose, your forehead; your smile bursts. "you already have my life," she reasons acutely. "it's only fair i get your music."

jihyo's apartment is a penthouse downtown with an incredible view of the skyline, lights twinkling below like stars, like gemstones. mina drops her bags by the door; jihyo tosses her keys on the entryway table. she looks too small for all this room.

mina says gently, "i'll stay with you as long as you want me to."

jihyo turns as she flicks on the kitchen light, surprised. she rolls the bar of her industrial. "that could be a long time," she warns, and she's actually serious. mina nods.

"i'm fine with that," she says.

jihyo steps back to her, raises her hands to mina's jaw and stands on the tips of her toes, searching for her mouth. jihyo kisses her softly for a moment and sinks down, leaning into her arms and sighing.

her eyelids flutter shut. "you're safe," she says quietly, "and not in a bad way."

"safe?"

"yes." jihyo nuzzles closer. "momo made me realize— well. isn't this what we all want? someone you know will never hurt you."

mina smiles tenderly. all the barbed wire has only ever been a prop. she touches jihyo and finds the remnant of something lovely, learning how to live again.

there's no beating around the bush. it's han's birthday and sana's throwing daggers with an intensity this makes momo think she should check her drink for poison. "what's her deal?"

you shrug somewhat uncomfortably. han yells as minho splashes him in the jacuzzi. "she used to be in love with me," you say, "when i was with my ex — you know, the shitty one — and I think she’s just... cautious or something.”

"hm." momo weighs the explanation, but it checks out. "that makes sense."

"yeah," you allow, sipping your daiquiri. "so i'm not really sure what to do about it."

"we need another lesbian to distract her," momo says. "we already lost jihyo to mina. i'm running out of single friends."

"speaking of distractions," you start.

"oh, here we go."

"this bikini," you continue, running your hand up momo's ribcage.

"uh, have you looked in a mirror?" momo counters. "i didn't know a one piece could look so..."

"so..."

"dirty," momo says, eyeing the way it dips between your breasts, how it's low in the back, open on the sides. "jesus christ."

"hey!" minho suddenly barks. "no foreplay! get in the pool, losers! this is a big deal for han!"

"excuse me!" jihyo snaps, mina pausing midway through applying sunscreen to her shoulders.

"not you," minho says, rolling his eyes. "y/n's about to mount momo right there at the bar cart."

"i have manners, thanks," you respond flatly, setting your cup on the table. "i would've at least waited until nobody was looking."

momo laughs, shaking her head, and putting her own drink down. she bends over, slides an arm underneath your thighs and picks you up bridal-style, muscles flexing.

"oh, don't you dare," you warn, your arms looping around momo's neck automatically.

momo smiles widely. "it's a party," she says, and jumps in the pool.

"sana," momo says later in the evening. you all are toweled off and mostly dry. she's wearing one of your hoodies; in retrospect, she could've been slightly more tactical. you're walking around in momo's loose tank top over your bathing suit and nothing else.

sana eyes her cautiously. "hey."

"look," momo says. "you and y/n — that's none of my business. but just so you know, i'm not going to hurt her. ever. i'd rather die."

sana's eyebrows raise at the intensity of the sudden declaration and lower again, processing. there are walls for a reason. she sizes momo up, but there's nothing hidden, no mangled doorways, no garden mazes. she sighs. "i know," she says bluntly. "it's obvious."

"but you still don't like me."

"i like you," sana says. "i just wish— that i could've done what you did."

momo asks, "how so?"

sana frowns, lips somewhat tight. "she was sad, you know. before you. she was... like no one could get to her."

they both stay quiet. your voice echoes out from inside the menagerie noise, standing out the loudest. it's light and airy and there's no sign of haunting.

"i'm alive for her," momo says quietly. "that's what it feels like, you know?"

sana smiles sadly but claps her on the shoulder. "yeah," she says. "don't fuck it up."

alien's single hits big, reaches number two on the charts within four days. momo takes you out to dinner. it's nothing fancy at all; it's a hole-in-the-wall seafood place near the ocean. the two of you both wear ripped jeans and boots; your hair's in a ponytail, and momo's falls as messily over her shoulders as it always does. you both are recognized once by a teenager who nearly has a heart attack just saying hello, but it's cute instead of uncomfortable.

"i'm proud of you," momo says. "is that cheesy?"

"totally," you respond, taking an oyster. "but it's also nice to hear."

"then i'm proud of you."

"thanks, baby."

momo smiles, looking at you serenely across the table. "god, i love you."

you actually blush slightly. you look adorable under the warmth of the red-tinted light, studiously avoiding momo's eyes with your mouth fighting a curl. "i love you," you say, blushing further.

momo actually laughs at that point. "what is this, our first date?"

you glance up at her, your grin breaking too wide to hide. "no," you say. "i'm just— it's weird to be here, you know? i have you, my band's successful, and i'm happy." you shy away again. "that's all."

momo reaches out and takes your hand, her smile softer. she doesn't say anything, just letting the moment soak itself in until there's nothing left but the freedom of feeling it.

"eat another oyster," she says after. "they're aphrodisiacs."

the two of you are both playing another festival the weekend of momo's birthday. wallflower is headlining, only because their single had dropped the weak before and it's big in the charts. alien plays right before. it'd been deliberate by the management team, trying to take advantage of your joint celebrity status.

momo watches you play, and it isn't like the first time; it's better, because now the girl on stage is hers. you own the music as if drawing it directly from your blood; you were born holding a bass guitar with a soul wired for poetry. you pause just before the last song and say to the wild crowd, "okay, everyone knows it's my girlfriend's birthday today, right?" screams to the point of incoherency; you shoot her a sly look in the wings. "how about we all sing her 'happy birthday'?"

momo ambles on stage, waving at the crowd, who are beside themselves at the gesture. they sing it wonderfully, all off-key and at different speeds, your voice holding her to the earth. at the end you pull her in for a kiss and momo wouldn't have it any other way.

the two of you share a hotel room; you both have the tendency to kick your boots off in the same place, as if habits can be developed in minutes with the right person, rather than weeks. you wander around in only your underwear and whichever shirt of momo's you've pulled out of her duffel bag, toothbrush in your mouth. momo's startingly content just watching you move around your shared space, and then suddenly she's thinking about it, you being everywhere momo is all the time, sharing dresser drawers, sleeping in a bed that belongs to the both of you.

you crawl across the mattress, straddling her with a smile. "hey," you say. "you've got a look."

"i'm having a revelation," momo says, palming your hips.

"which would be?"

"we should live together," she says easily, like it's obvious.

you still. "oh," you say, mildly surprised. "you're so right. we should."

"i know."

"okay," you smile blindingly again, bending down, and kissing her. "i can think of nothing better than you."

the album process flows effortlessly for the both of you. you're slightly ahead; your time in the recording studio comes a few weeks before momo's, but in the meantime, the two of you are also starring in each other's music videos. yours is a little darker, sultrier; the two of you kiss with the intent of seduction, not like the two of you are the only two people in the room but like you both are the only two who matter. it's sexy, your director says, and why shouldn't it be? keep that intensity. maintain it. it's the truth. the point of the video is that you belong together, and everyone one — well. they're nothing.

momo's video has more of a linear story, just due to the nature of the song; it's the two of you capturing each other's attention over and over again until every scene whittles itself down to physics, until the walls are gone and then the two of you are closer, you're right next to her, the sun is in the room with you both, shining. momo makes you laugh, the world kind of ends. your videos are both so popular that the two of you actually get offered a web series to serve as a continuation, which you both decline — "you've got the face for music," you say, "but i wouldn't test the cameras," and momo laughs, shoving you off the bed.

the two of you get an apartment the neighborhood over from jihyo's (and mina's? whatever) and the building the two of you are in is upscale, but it lacks pretentiousness, exactly what you both had wanted. "if i have to hear someone call me ms. y/l/n every day," you had said, "i'm going to fucking lose it," and so the doorman says, y/n, momo when he greets you both, grinning widely.

it's only a one-bedroom, but the two of you have ample amounts of space in the living room and dining room, and your tastes in interior design overlap perfectly to the surprise of no one. the two of you have always been complementary and it keeps its roots. you both lounge on your respective instruments, riffing off each other. half your pictures are prints from fans, moments they'd captured during your various crashing of each other's shows; momo always smiles fondly as she passes by each and every one. "i miss it," she says, "i can't wait until we get to do it again."

"all my songs are for you," you say from where you're sprawled across the couch reading a book, "so just let me know which one's your favorite, and i'll be sure to play it last. give you something to look forward to."

"i look forward to what comes after all that, actually," momo says, sliding the book out of your hands cheekily. "you know, when we get home."

you smirk. "well, darling, i can't fuck you on stage, so take what's offered."

"you can fuck me now."

"i can," you agree, biting your lip. "actually, yeah. i can. take your shirt off."

your albums drop exactly a month apart, a year and a half after you both had originally met. it's close enough that the two of you can tour at the same time, but far enough that you both aren't competing. not literally, momo's manager says, it's just better for business. both hit number one on the charts; momo texts jihyo the news and she writes back thank god, i'm running out of money.

asshole, momo types. and here i thought mina was making you nicer.

hello! the tone is suddenly not jihyo; it's instantaneous. momo isn't about to give her an inch.

shut up mina.

you get the tour schedule first. the two of you are spearheading something kind of unusual; two shows per city, alternating who opens and closes. the two of you keep your own buses, though the overlap means you both aren't really specific to passengers anymore; you and momo bounce between whichever is the closest after a show, and sana and dahyun take comfort in being the only two people who aren't consumed by inter-band romance.

it's fun. the only thing momo loves more than playing music every night is watching you play music, watching you work a crowd with a sly grin and a few choice bass notes, taking over the stage like you're the only one who's ever walked on it. she cheers and applauds with the audience, waiting in the wings for you to fall laughing into her arms and kiss her at the end of every set. there's a night where you all switch band members for a song; han trades with jihyo for the keys, you play the bass instead of mina, and together, in front of the crowd, she finally feels invincible.

"you know what i like most about this tour?" you ask her, stealing french fries from her tray at an arby's off of route five. it's just past midnight. there are only three weeks left. "you."

"that's what i like most too, you know," momo says.

"me?"

"no, myself."

you throw a fry at her head, laughing. "shut up."

"of course, you," momo says, grinning softly. "all my songs are about you. we should've named our tour two girls, one tour or something."

"horrible name," you disagree, "and not at all accurate. it's more like six gays, one tour."

"three lesbians, two bisexuals, and a gay man..."

"...walk into a bar," you finish, and momo snickers. "no, our tour name is just fine."

someone like you.

in truth, momo's been planning it for a while now.

the guitar pick sits heavy in her jacket pocket. she touches her fingers to it, runs a thumb over the engraving. you smile at her as you wire up for the show and all momo can do is hope it works. there's two weeks left of the tour left. she wants the two of you to be magical. she wants the two of you to be without the uncertainty of a future. she wants all roads to finally lead home.

she waits for the lights to dim and grabs your wrist. "hey," she murmurs, passing you the pick. "use this one tonight, okay?"

you find her mouth in the darkness. "okay," you say breathlessly, and slip out of momo's grasp for the beckoning of your music. you play through three, four, five songs — momo's getting nervous, her palms sweating, veins too hot for her skin — she presses her tongue piercing against the roof of her mouth, rolls it around, waits, waits, and waits. finally, there's a guitar solo and you glance down, pausing, and freezing entirely, your eyes darting back and forth. momo thinks her lungs might've overloaded. the drums pick back up, and you're supposed to come in but you're just standing there, staring down, and minho immediately realizes you're not following them. the crowd's humming, looking around, and minho says, "uh, y/n?"

"sorry," you breathe out at the prompt, shaking your head, free hand wrapping around your microphone. "sorry. i, um— i need a moment. i think— um, i think my girlfriend just asked me to marry her."

there's silence — the instruments all fall short, their echoes fading — and then a swelling gasp from the audience, clamoring forward for a look. you're turning to pick over and over in your fingers, as if trying to make sense of it all. you continue, "she handed me this guitar pick before the show, and i only— i only just read it. it says marry me."

"go, dumbass," jihyo says, shoving her forward. "that's your cue."

oh. oh, right. momo walks slowly onto the stage, right out of a dream, the lights too bright and you're standing underneath them like something ethereal, expression hopeful and open and saccharine. there's something — there must be — but she barely even hears it, anymore. the world softens at the edges, becomes a photograph, becomes a melody, becomes a song.

she gets right up to you, leaning into the microphone. it's hard to know where to begin, even though it's the only thing she's been thinking about for months.

you say, "momo?" in a sweet, quiet voice, and that's all the prompt momo needs.

"you threw me this guitar pick at like, the third show of yours i crashed, or something," she says, too anxious to be smooth. all that's left is the truth. "i kept it this entire time and i had it engraved two months ago. i've just been waiting for the right opportunity, the perfect show, and today," she pauses, swallows over the closing of her throat, "today, i looked at you and i just— it's always right. every day with you is perfect. marry me."

"yes," you say instantly, staring at her wide-eyed. "oh my god. yes. i'll marry you."

"i love you," momo says, entranced. there are lights flashing, cameras recording. she doesn't care. she'll keep this forever; in however many forms she can get. you laugh, tears welling in your eyes.

"i love you," you say, and your lips meet to the sound of thunderous applause.

🫠🫠🫠

ningning whiplash (241115)

Playing around with my ocs and their face claims

moonbyul & solar ♥ 231020 GGBB

them being cropped saved so many lives oh my godddddd

Ahhhhh this was cute

Impressions and Flirtations

Minatozaki Sana x F!Reader

warnings: fluff, author doesnt know how to end

a/n: this kinda bad.. idk..

The café buzzed with quiet conversation as you, Sana, and Momo sat together at your usual table. Momo had suggested a casual meet-up to catch up, but you hadn’t expected to see Sana there as well. While you were familiar with each other, the two of you rarely interacted directly, and that unfamiliarity had created an awkward tension that neither of you quite knew how to navigate.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, glancing over at Momo, who was animatedly chatting about some recent events. Sana sat across from you, her attention occasionally flickering to you between sips of her iced coffee. Though the three of you had mutual friends, these moments with just Sana always felt… complicated.

The awkwardness was made even more palpable when Momo suddenly stood up, her eyes darting toward the back of the café. “I’ll be right back, just need to use the restroom,” she said casually, giving both you and Sana a quick smile before walking away.

You froze.

Momo’s absence left you and Sana sitting alone, an awkward silence settling between you like a thick fog. You kept your gaze fixed on your coffee cup, trying not to make the situation more uncomfortable than it already was.

Sana, on the other hand, seemed determined to break the silence. She shifted in her seat, her eyes landing on you with a curious, somewhat hesitant look.

“So…” she started, her voice soft but carrying a note of playful awkwardness. “We don’t really get to hang out one-on-one, do we?”

You glanced up, feeling a mix of surprise and nervousness. “Yeah, I guess not,” you mumbled, trying to keep your voice steady. “We mostly see each other through Momo”

Sana smiled, a bit more confidently now. “Mhm, I’ve noticed. It’s funny because we have so many mutual friends, but we never really talk”

You nodded, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “Yeah, it’s kind of weird now that you mention it”

Sana chuckled softly, and for a brief moment, the tension seemed to lift. Her laughter was light, easy, and contagious, and it helped ease some of the awkwardness you’d been feeling.

“I’ve always wanted to get to know you better,” Sana said, her tone more sincere now. She looked at you with genuine curiosity, her eyes lingering on yours a bit longer than expected. “You seem really cool and you’re really pretty too”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Sana’s compliment. Her tone was light, casual even, but there was something in the way her eyes lingered on you that sent a wave of warmth rushing through you. You weren’t used to this side of her—sure, Sana was known to be playful and charming with her friends, but this felt different. This felt… personal.

“Thanks,” you managed to say, trying to sound composed despite the flutter in your chest. You looked down at your coffee, feeling the heat creep up your neck, and added with a nervous laugh, “You’re not so bad yourself”

Sana’s smile widened at your response, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Not so bad, huh? I’ll take that,” she teased, her voice dropping into a softer, more intimate tone. She leaned forward just slightly, resting her chin on her hand as if she were studying you.

There was a playful lightness to her movements, but her gaze held a certain intensity. It was as if she could sense your unease and was enjoying every second of making you squirm just a little bit. The tension between you shifted from awkward to charged, the atmosphere crackling with an energy you hadn’t expected.

“So,” she continued, her fingers idly playing with the straw in her drink, “I’ve been curious about something” Her eyes never left yours, the corner of her lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. “Why do you always seem so nervous around me?”

Your heart skipped a beat at her directness, and you struggled to find your words. “Nervous? I-I’m not nervous”

Sana chuckled, her laughter soft and teasing. “Oh really? Because every time we’re in the same room, you can barely look at me” She tilted her head, her voice becoming more serious, yet still playful. “Is it because I intimidate you? Or maybe... there’s something else going on?”

You felt a rush of embarrassment, but there was no denying the truth in her words. You had always been a little on edge around Sana—not because she intimidated you, but because you found her so effortlessly charming, and you didn’t quite know how to handle that.

“Well…” you started, searching for the right thing to say, but Sana didn’t give you a chance to finish. She leaned in a little closer, her smile now fully flirtatious, the air between you thick with unspoken tension.

“I think I might know what it is,” Sana said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes locked onto yours. “You like me, don’t you?”

The directness of her question knocked the wind out of you. Your mind raced, trying to process her words, but all you could do was sit there, wide-eyed, unsure of how to respond. Sana was still watching you intently, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“Relax,” she said with a soft laugh, pulling back slightly but still holding your gaze. “I’m just teasing a little”

You swallowed hard, finally managing to regain some composure. “You’re way too good at that”

Sana grinned, her smile warm and teasing. “Only because it’s fun with you”

The playfulness in her tone was disarming, but there was something deeper behind it, something you couldn’t quite place. Her flirtation wasn’t just for show—it felt intentional, directed specifically at you. The realization made your heart race even more.

Before you could dwell too much on the weight of her words, Momo reappeared at the table, oblivious to the shift in atmosphere that had taken place while she was gone.

“Miss anything good?” Momo asked, sliding back into her seat with a bright smile.

Sana leaned back in her chair, her demeanor instantly more casual as she smiled at Momo. “Not much. Just getting to know Y/N a little better”

Momo raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing that something had happened while she was gone. “Oh really? Well, I’m glad to hear it. You two never seem to talk much”

You forced a smile, your mind still reeling from the conversation with Sana. The rest of the afternoon passed by in a blur of light conversation and laughter, but your thoughts kept drifting back to that moment—the way Sana had looked at you, the teasing warmth in her voice, and the undeniable spark that had flickered between you.

After a few more rounds of casual conversation, Momo glanced down at her phone, her expression shifting to mild urgency. “I have to head somewhere else,” she announced, standing up from the table. She gave both you and Sana a quick smile, clearly oblivious to the shift in dynamic that had occurred earlier.

Sana, ever composed, flashed Momo a quick grin. “No worries, Momoring. We’ll catch up soon”

As Momo waved goodbye and headed out, you found yourself alone with Sana once again. There was a brief, awkward silence before Sana stood up and motioned toward the door, her smile playful. “Guess it’s just us now. Wanna take a walk around the mall for a bit?”

You nodded, still feeling the lingering effects of her earlier flirtation. “Sure, sounds good”

The two of you wandered through the bustling mall, the bright lights and constant hum of activity providing a backdrop to your quiet conversations. But it wasn’t long before Sana’s playful nature kicked in again. She walked a little closer than usual, her shoulder brushing against yours, her eyes constantly darting toward you with that same mischievous glint.

“Y/N,” she began, nudging you lightly with her elbow. “How come we’ve never hung out before, just the two of us? It’s not like Momo has to be our chaperone all the time”

You laughed nervously, trying to shrug off the tension. “I-I don’t know. I guess we’ve just never really had the chance”

Sana smirked, clearly enjoying the way you stumbled over your words. “Well, we’re fixing that now, aren’t we?” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just a bit. “I’m glad we’re getting to know each other better. You’re more fun than I thought”

Her words sent a rush of warmth through you, and you found yourself wondering if Sana’s flirty behavior was just part of her usual charm, or if there was something more behind it—something directed specifically at you.

As you continued to walk through the mall, the conversation flowed naturally, dipping between light-hearted topics and shared stories about mutual friends. The easy rhythm of it all surprised you—given how awkward things had been earlier, you hadn’t expected to feel this comfortable around Sana so soon.

But there was a new element now, something beneath the surface that was making your heart race. Every now and then, Sana would throw in a subtle compliment or a teasing remark, her words carefully chosen to make you flustered.

“You have a pretty smile, you know,” she said suddenly, her voice casual but with a warmth that made you glance over at her in surprise. “I’ve noticed it before. You should smile more often”

You felt your cheeks warm at the compliment and smiled softly. “Thank you..”

Sana said with a grin, her eyes sparkling. “See!! It suits you!! It’s kinda hard not to stare when you do”

Her words hit you harder than you’d expected, and your heart fluttered in response. You quickly glanced away, hoping she hadn’t noticed how much her comment had affected you. “You’re just saying that”

Sana chuckled softly, nudging you with her elbow as you walked. “What? I’m serious! You’re cute when you’re shy. It makes me want to tease you even more”

You shook your head, trying to hide your smile. “You’re impossible”

Sana leaned in slightly, her shoulder brushing against yours. “Impossible, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment”

Before you could respond, she brushed her fingers lightly against your arm as she gestured toward a store window, her touch sending a tingle up your skin. “Oh, look at that,” she said, her voice a mix of amusement and curiosity. “I could totally see you in something like that”

You followed her gaze, noticing a simple but stylish outfit on display in the window. “Really? I don’t know… I don’t think I could pull that off”

Sana shook her head, her tone playful but sincere. “You could pull off anything. Trust me. You just don’t give yourself enough credit”

You felt your heart skip a beat again, and you quickly tried to steer the conversation away from yourself. “You’re one to talk. You always look amazing, and you know it”

Sana raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “Oh? Are you saying you’ve been checking me out?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but the teasing glint in her eyes made you pause. Instead, you stammered, “I-I mean, it’s kind of hard not to notice. You have good fashion sense”

Sana laughed softly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “I’m flattered. But you don’t have to be shy about it. I’ve noticed you too”

Your pulse quickened at her words, and you glanced at her in surprise. “You have?”

Sana nodded, her smile softening slightly. “Yeah. I’ve noticed you for a while now. It’s just we never really got the chance to talk until today”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just nodded, feeling the weight of her gaze on you. The atmosphere between you shifted slightly, the playfulness still there but now tinged with something more serious.

Before you could dwell on it for too long, Sana broke the tension with another teasing remark. “You know, I kind of like making you blush,” she said, her tone light but carrying a deeper undercurrent. “It’s cute”

You let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m not blushing”

Sana grinned, clearly enjoying your denial. “Oh, yes you are. And it’s adorable”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re really laying it on thick today, aren’t you?”

Sana shrugged, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “What can I say? I enjoy keeping you on your toes”

The two of you continued to walk, the conversation slipping back into more casual territory, but the flirtation between you remained. Sana’s fingers would occasionally brush against yours, her compliments always just on the edge of playful and sincere, leaving you wondering if there was more behind her words than just teasing.

As the two of you walked toward the exit of the mall, the sky outside was beginning to darken, and the soft glow of streetlights flickered on, casting a golden hue over the pavement. The conversation between you and Sana had begun to settle into a comfortable rhythm, though the air still crackled with the tension of everything unsaid. You both paused near the parking lot entrance, and for a moment, you considered calling it a night and heading home.

But before you could say anything, Sana glanced over at you with that familiar, teasing smile. “Y/N,” she began, her voice smooth and casual, “are you heading somewhere else after this? Or are you just heading home?”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her question. “Just heading home”

Sana raised an eyebrow, her smile widening just a bit. “Well, where do you live? Maybe I could drop you off. It’s getting late, and I wouldn’t want a pretty girl like you walking home alone”

Your heart skipped a beat at the offer, and for a brief moment, you wondered if this was just another instance of Sana being her usual flirty self—or if there was something more to it. You hesitated for a second, then decided to answer honestly.

“I live in an apartment not too far from here,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Actually, it’s near where Momo lives. Around the same neighborhood”

Sana’s smile grew even wider, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and amusement. “Oh, really? That’s perfect then. I live close to Momo too. I’ll drop you off. Come on”

Before you could protest, Sana grabbed your hand softly and had already started walking toward her car. You felt a strange mix of nerves and anticipation bubbling up inside you, wondering what this ride home would entail.

Once you both got into the car, you instinctively reached for your seatbelt but fumbled with the strap, your nerves still a little jittery from the lingering tension of the day. Sana, already buckled in and ready to go, noticed your struggle and shot you a teasing smile.

“Need some help?” she asked, her tone light but with that familiar playful edge.

You laughed nervously, still trying to get a grip on the seatbelt. “I’m fine, just-”

Before you could finish, Sana removed her belt and leaned over, her hand gently brushing yours aside. “Let me,” she said softly, her voice dipping into a more intimate tone. Without waiting for your response, she reached across you, grabbing the seatbelt and pulling it toward the buckle.

Your breath hitched at how close she suddenly was, her face inches from yours as she leaned in. You could feel the warmth of her body and smell the faint scent of her perfume—something soft and sweet that made your heart race even faster. Sana’s eyes briefly flickered to yours, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile as she clicked the seatbelt into place. But instead of pulling back right away, she lingered for a moment longer than necessary, her face still so close to yours that you could feel her breath against your skin.

“There,” she whispered, her voice soft and teasing. “All set”

Your heart was practically pounding out of your chest, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you felt thick with anticipation, and you couldn’t help but notice the way her gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest of moments before returning to your eyes.

“Thanks,” you managed to say, though your voice came out quieter than intended, almost breathless.

Sana’s smile widened, and her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. “You’re welcome,” she replied.

As she sat back, her eyes met yours, and for a fleeting moment, the air between you felt electric. You could see the desire in her gaze, and your heart raced even faster. The innocent act of buckling a seatbelt had suddenly taken on a whole new meaning.

You couldn’t help but return her smile, the heat in your loins growing with each passing second. Sana’s veiny hand rested on the gear shift, and as she put the car into drive.

The ride had left you with a buzz of excitement and a sense of possibility. Sana’s flirtatiousness and genuine interest had made the evening unforgettable, and you couldn’t help but look forward to what might come next.

Your hand is all I ask for please 🫠

MOONBYUL for THE STAR