#dami x reader

The wooden door creaks when she pushes it open, and a small brass bell tinkles from above—soft, delicate, the kind of sound that makes you instinctively lower your voice even though no one’s around. The place smells like nostalgia and melted sugar, warm and heavy, clinging to the air like a childhood memory that refuses to fade.

Shelves line the small space, some slanted from age, others patched up with duct tape and what she assumes is leftover washi paper. Glass jars filled with brightly coloured sweets gleam under the filtered morning light—barley candies, flower-shaped jellies, dried persimmon gummies, and those ridiculously addictive sesame crisps that break your teeth but heal your soul.

It’s quiet, except for the low whirr of a fan in the corner and the soft crackle of something cooking behind the counter.

And then she hears it.

That very familiar string of muffled curses.

“Motherf—hot—why is everything so sticky—”

She rounds the corner just in time to see you—you, apron on, sleeves rolled up, face flushed from the steam of whatever candy cauldron you’ve got bubbling away. You’ve got your hair slicked back with a fork (an actual one, probably stolen from last night’s takeout), and your fingers are expertly folding a ribbon of molten sugar onto a wooden board with practiced ease.

“Wow,” she says before she can stop herself, leaning against the counter. “You actually did it.”

You jerk at the voice, almost drop your taffy paddle, and turn with the slow, wide-eyed look of someone who just saw their midterm professor walk into a karaoke bar.

“…Yubin?” Your voice cracks a little on the last syllable.

She grins. “Told you I’d haunt you eventually.”

“You—you’re here?” You look around like you forgot where here is. “In this town? In my shop??”

“Your shop,” she repeats, letting the words roll off her tongue. “Didn’t expect to see you here either. Last I checked, you moved out of our hometown right after middle school. I figured you’d be somewhere in the city by now, overworked, underfed, and buried in a pile of part-time jobs.”

“I was,” you say, still trying to process the fact that Dami, middle school buddy/crush turned K-pop idol, is standing in your candy shop like she just walked in off a sitcom set.

“But then my aunt handed me the keys to this place last year and dipped to Jeju, so now I’m here. Day job: sugar gremlin. Night job: dying over assignments.”

Dami’s laugh is quiet, a little nostalgic. “So we both escaped.”

You blink. “Huh? What do you mean?”

She shrugs, walking slowly around the small shop, fingers skimming along the counter. “Contract ended. No rush to renew anything. Figured I’d disappear for a week. Rest. Breathe. Maybe find myself in a bag of chestnut toffee.”

You smirk. “That one’s on that shelf on the left, right next to the emotional damage gummies.”

Her eyes light up. “Ooh, limited edition?”

“Hand-pulled bitterness,” you say with mock pride. “Best seller. The damn kids kept buying it for challenges.”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, grinning like it’s still math class and you’re trying not to get caught passing notes behind your textbooks.

“Small world, huh,” she finally says.

“Stupidly small,” you reply.

And just like that, the years between middle school and now feel like they’ve folded into something softer. Like saltwater taffy stretched thin but never snapped. You both left the same town. Took different trains. Ended up back at the same platform anyway.

“Hey,” she says, suddenly sheepish. “You mind if I hang out a bit? I didn’t really have a plan for the day.”

You glance at the clock. Your next batch of plum jellies still needs to set, and your current batch is probably imploding as you speak—but honestly?

“Only if you help wrap these,” you say, nudging the pile of cooling candies toward her.

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re putting the idol to work?”

You toss her a spare apron. “You’re the one who walked into my shop, miss.”

Dami catches it midair, laughter trailing behind her like powdered sugar in the wind, and just like that, your quiet little candy shop becomes something warmer.

-

If there was a camera in the shop right now—just one, even a dusty old CCTV one—you’re pretty sure this moment would go viral. Dami, former girl group cool-icon, multi-talented performer, deadpan queen of stage presence… is currently fighting for her life against a roll of wax paper and losing.

“Why is it curling like this?” she mutters, brow furrowed, as the sheet she’s trying to cut keeps flipping back onto itself like it has a grudge. “The hell is this? Did you curse it?”

You, very professionally, do not laugh.

At least not out loud.

You’re by the counter, refilling the sesame crisp jars, trying to focus on literally anything other than the sight of her trying to measure and fold wax paper with all the grace of a kitten learning to walk on ice. Every few seconds she mutters something to herself—some half-hearted insult aimed at the paper, your shop, or gravity—and it takes every ounce of willpower not to burst into full, wheezing laughter.

“I thought idols were supposed to be good with their dedicate hands,” you say mildly, glancing over just in time to see the tape dispenser get caught in her sleeve. "…and not cursing."

“I was,” she shoots back, trying to wrangle it off with one hand. “This is bullshit. You’re sabotaging me. This is revenge for the time I told everyone in class you had a crush on that substitute teacher.”

Your eyes narrow. “You mean Ms. Park? The one everyone had a crush on?”

“She wore collared shirt and glasses,” she deadpans. “To be fair, it was the look.”

"Still is, you know that." You scoff and toss her the little candy label stickers. “Here. Just put these on the wrappers. It’s harder to mess that up.”

“You say that like it’s hard,” she mutters, peeling one off with exaggerated care.

You both settle into a rhythm—her sitting at the low table, tongue peeking out a little in concentration as she sticks labels onto neat little plastic-wrapped candies, and you at the counter, folding paper boxes while the soft hum of an old fan and the distant chirp of birds fills the air.

It’s oddly peaceful. Domestic, almost. If someone walked in, they’d probably mistake you two for co-owners or an old married couple running a family shop passed down for generations.

“How long have you been here now?” she asks suddenly, her tone gentler this time.

You pause, thinking. “About…nine months? Moved in right before spring. My aunt used to run this place, but her knees started acting up. Gave me the keys, said, ‘It’s your problem now, kiddo,’ and ran off to Jeju with her yoga group.”

Dami huffs a laugh. “Sounds about right. You always said you wanted something quiet.”

“I said I wanted peace,” you correct her, holding up a half-folded candy box like it’s proof. “Didn’t realize peace included burning my hands on hot syrup every week.”

She smiles, but there’s a softness behind it now. “Still… I get it. The quiet. The slowness.”

You glance at her, noticing the way she’s leaning slightly forward now, elbows on her knees, the faintest crease between her brows.

“Was it hard?” you ask, voice lower.

She doesn’t pretend to misunderstand. Doesn’t deflect with a joke this time.

“Maybe a bit,” she admits. “It’s weird. You’re surrounded by people all the time, but… you get so used to performing, it’s like you forget how to just be. No cameras. No pressure. Just… existing.”

You nod, slowly. “Well, you’re existing now. And apparently waging war against packaging.”

"Shut it…" She snorts. “It’s humbling.”

"Well, you're welcome, missy." You throw a jellybean at her. She dodges it with the reflexes of someone who’s been through years of dance practice and too many fan-thrown plushies.

“Ya,” she says, suddenly grinning. “Remember that time we had to do that candy fundraiser in school and you accidentally dropped a whole tray of lollipops down the stairwell in front of everyone?”

You groan. “Please don’t bring that up. I’m still emotionally scarred.”

“I think you cried.”

“I twitched,” you say defensively.

“You sobbed.”

You stare at her. “You’re never helping in this shop again.”

She laughs—really laughs—and the sound fills the little space like something old and familiar, something you didn’t know you missed. You lean back against the counter, watching her with an amused smile and a warmth settling quietly in your chest.

It’s strange.

How someone can be gone for years, grow up into someone bigger, brighter, more distant—and yet still sit here, in your little candy shop, struggling with tape and teasing you like no time passed at all.

Maybe the universe isn’t so bad.

Maybe it brought her back right when you both needed something sweet.

-

By day two, you’ve already made a sign that reads:

“Yubin’s Specials – Limited Edition”

You prop it up right outside the door.

She sees it.

She groans.

“You’re seriously using me as clickbait,” she says, holding a tray of chestnut taffies she just helped wrap.

“Of course I am,” you say proudly. “And you’re doing amazing, Lee Yubin.”

“You didn’t even…fcking…train me.”

You shrug. “Trial by sugar.”

It turns out people really like candy made by a former Dreamcatcher member. Even if her wrappers are a bit lopsided and she keeps messing up the ribbon curls. Tourists stumble in with giddy grins, locals pretend not to fangirl too hard, and somehow even the old grump from the vegetable stand next door stops by for two packs of barley candy and whispers, “Wasn’t she on TV?”

You nod solemnly. “She’s our intern now. We pay her in red bean mochi and my yapping.”

Dami, who’s been quietly tying goody bags in the back, shouts, “I heard that!”

And so, business booms.

Your little shop starts getting lines out the door. A couple from Seoul asks if this is the place that sells Dami’s Panda Honey Drops.

You blink. “That’s not a real thing.”

They pull up a blog post on their phone on Dami's Insta.

...Okay, apparently it is now.

Meanwhile, Dami slips further and further into her “intern” role. You catch her giving free samples to a group of shy high schoolers, writing little notes on wrappers like “Don’t forget to rest” and “Fighting! ”. They leave with red cheeks and stars in their eyes.

“You’re stealing my customers,” you tell her.

She looks too smug. “Your fault for using me as clickbait.”

“You’re fired.”

“You can’t afford to fire me,” she says, stretching with a yawn. “The people love me. I’m your brand now.”

"Tsk." You try to glare, but end up grinning instead.

The rest of the day is a blur of sugar, laughs, and the occasional candy-stick swordfight during slow hours (you lost, tragically). By the time the sun starts setting, the shop’s pretty much wiped clean.

You hang the "Closed" sign and wipe your hands on your apron. “We survived another day, Yubin.”

She stretches again, slower this time, her frame outlined by the golden hour light streaming in through the door. “You’ve got a good thing here,” she murmurs. “It’s cozy.”

“Cozy?” you echo. “That’s your review?”

She shrugs. “Cozy. Honest. Kind of… nice.”

You blink at her. That was a bit more real than expected. But before you can say anything, she’s already slipping past you to hang up her apron.

“Where you going?” you ask.

She turns around with that trademark poker face, then lifts her brows. “Obviously to help you out in the neighbourhood, boss. You said this gig comes with overtime two days ago.”

You snort. “Of course. It’s not a full experience unless you also carry bags of flour for Mrs. Hwang and untangle Mr. Jang’s fairy lights that have no business being up in spring.”

She grins. “Lead the way, boss.”

So you both head out to the warm neighbourhood. A few kids run past with grape lollipops from your shop still clutched in sticky hands. A dog you only kinda know jumps up on Dami and she laughs, crouching down to ruffle its ears.

Mrs. Hwang waves from her porch and hands you a small plate of rice cakes. “For the idol girl. Tell her thank you for helping me bring in my laundry yesterday.”

You smile. “She’s right here, you know.”

Mrs. Hwang squints. “You won’t pass it on?”

“Ma’am, she’s—never mind.”

Mr. Jang yells from two houses down. “I tell you two, those lights are seasonal! They just work better than the porch lamp!”

“They blink like a horror movie!” you shout back.

Dami’s laughing the entire time, shoulders shaking, eyes bright. Not in that polite, polished way for cameras, but in the way you remember from middle school—when she fell off the jungle gym and laughed before she even hit the ground.

And you realize… she fits here.

A little too well.

Like she’s always belonged in the quiet lull between candy jars and nosy neighbours. Like maybe this week off wasn’t a random break, but a breadcrumb trail back to something she forgot she needed.

Later that night, you’re both back at the shop.

She’s lounging at the back table again, sipping warm barley tea, while you log sales for the day. The numbers are ridiculous. You glare at her from behind your laptop.

“You made more money for me in two days than I did in a whole month,” you say flatly.

“I accept my payment in roasted rice crackers and lifelong bragging rights.”

You throw her one from the snack shelf. She catches it easily, smirking.

You watch her for a moment. The way she sits so comfortably in this space, even after years of stages and screaming crowds. The way she hums under her breath without realizing it.

“Hey,” you say softly. “You really okay out here in the middle of nowhere?”

She looks up. Meets your eyes.

“Yeah,” she says after a second. “It's nice.”

And somehow, it would be nice to have her here with you too.

-

The next morning, you woke up to birds chirping way too cheerily for someone who spent all night boiling malt candy until their soul nearly evaporated. You barely cracked your eyes open before tossing a hoodie over your head, grabbing a cooler, and jogging to her place and banging on Dami’s dorm door like the tax collector.

She groaned from the other side. “It’s not even 9 am.”

“Exactly. Prime beach hour. Let’s go.”

You didn’t wait for her to protest.

Half an hour later, you were both trudging across soft sand, you with your cooler slung over your shoulder, and Dami squinting at the ocean like it personally owed her money.

“What are we doing here?” she muttered.

“Shut up and relax,” you said, tossing her a can from the cooler. “That’s an order.”

She looked down at the cold beer in her hand, eyebrow raised. “Is this really allowed?”

“Do you see cops?”

“No—wait, actually, that guy over there—”

“That’s a fisherman, Yubin.”

“Same energy.”

You rolled your eyes and sat down first, your legs stretched out toward the water. The tide was lazy today, dragging the foam in and out like it was breathing. Beside you, Dami plopped down with a sigh so dramatic it could've won an award.

Then she opened the can.

And for the first time in days—maybe weeks, maybe months—she really breathed.

The kind that filled her lungs, her chest, her ribs. Not just the automatic inhales for survival. No, this one was different. Deep. Slow. Like she hadn’t realized how little air she’d been taking in until now.

Her eyes drifted toward the horizon. “God… it’s quiet here.”

You cracked your own beer open with a soft hiss. “That’s why the shop is here.”

She sipped. Then again. “This might be the best thing I’ve tasted all year.”

You nudged her shoulder with yours. “It’s not the beer. It’s peace, Yubin.”

“Cringe.”

You both laughed. But then, slowly, it settled. The silence. The soft rhythm of waves brushing the shore. The clink of aluminium as your cans tapped the ground.

And her voice came quieter this time. Less of a joke. “I’ve been thinking.”

“You think?”

"Shush, you." She ignored you. “What if I didn’t go back?”

You blinked. “To Seoul?”

She nodded, eyes still on the sea. “To that life. Schedules. Spotlights. Deadlines. Everyone watching everything I do… waiting for the next thing to eat me alive.”

You stayed quiet. Let her talk.

“I could stay,” she said softly. “Here. In the countryside. Wake up when I want. Help out. Run a small café maybe. Or just… nothing at all. Isn’t that enough?”

You took a slow sip. “You’re drunk.”

“I’ve had three sips.”

“Exactly. Drunk. Aren't you lightweighted?”

She turned to look at you fully now. “I’m serious.”

So were you. Because you leaned in just a little, reached out, and smacked her on the head.

Harder than you meant to.

She yelped. “What the hell?!”

“You don’t get to say that like it’s simple,” you snapped. “Like you’re just tired of singing and poof—you’re gone. You worked your whole life for this. And now what? You want to throw it away because you got a week off and tasted quiet?”

Her expression shifted. Something between hurt and frustration. “You think it’s that easy for me to let go? You think I haven’t been thinking about it for months? Every single day? When I wake up feeling hollow, go to sleep feeling watched, smile until my jaw hurts because someone says I’m their happiness and I don’t even know how to find mine anymore?!”

You froze.

The beach didn’t.

Waves kept folding into themselves. The wind teased your sleeves. The gulls cried like nothing had happened.

But something had.

“…Yubin.”

She shook her head, looking away. “I’m tired,” she said again. “Really tired. And I know I joke about retiring, but it’s not a joke anymore. I want to stop. And this place… this stupid, quiet, peaceful place… it’s the first time I felt like I could breathe.”

You stared at her. At the way her fingers curled around the can like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. At the sea salt sticking to her lashes. At the familiar slouch of her shoulders—the one you remember from middle school, when the world was too much even then.

And you got it.

Of course you got it.

You just hated that you got it.

“…Then stay,” you said finally. Your voice barely louder than the tide. “But don’t stay just because it’s easier. Stay because it’s right. Stay because this is where you heal, not where you hide.”

She didn’t answer for a while. But she didn’t move either.

The beer grew warm in your hands. A breeze passed, cool and calm. And the sun, despite everything, kept rising.

-

You knew she was leaving the moment she woke up early without you knocking.

The sun wasn’t even up yet, just that soft grey light smudging the edge of the sky. You were already at the shop, brewing tea and boxing up the last batch of barley and chestnut candies from the night before. Dami came in, hair still a little damp from the quick shower you assumed she took to hide the puffiness in her eyes.

You didn’t say anything.

Just slid over the warm cup.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

You smiled. “So. You’re ditching me.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Like you didn’t say yesterday that I shouldn’t stay just to hide.”

“I meant it. Still doesn’t mean I gotta like it.”

Dami smiled into her cup.

The next hour passed the same way the last few days had—quiet banter, easy rhythm, sugar and wrappers and sweet scents hanging in the air. Except now, the silence had a ticking clock beneath it. You felt it in every glance. Every pause.

When the bell above the door jingled, you looked up mid-wrap and nearly dropped the entire tray.

Because walking into your shop was Dreamcatcher’s Jiu In the flesh. And not just her—soon behind came a few more heads peeking in. Siyeon waved politely. Yoohyeon smiled wide and said, “Ooh! It smells good in here!” like it was a surprise your candy shop did what it said on the tin.

You blinked at them. Then turned to Dami with your most exaggerated fake scowl. “So this is the kind of company you’ve been keeping, huh? Surrounded by literal beauties while I’ve been over here stirring malt syrup and burning my fingers.”

Dami, bless her, turned a shade redder than the strawberry jellies. “Shut up,” she muttered.

You grinned.

“Seriously though,” you leaned back, arms crossed, “you didn’t tell me they are this pretty. Makes me feel like the ugly duckling.”

JiU chuckled as she stepped further in. “You must be the friend she wouldn’t shut up about all week.”

You shrugged. “Guilty.”

There was a calm in Dami’s expression now. The quiet kind of peace that comes after a storm. After words were said and decisions were made. She helped you pack the final tin of candies—her batch, the ones she kept burning the first day until she learned how to mix in rhythm with yours.

You handed it to her.

“This is for the road,” you said softly. “Don’t eat them all in one go. Maybe share with your unnies if they behave.”

Dami took it. Her hands lingered against yours just a second too long.

Then she hugged you.

Not quick. Not awkward. Not half-hearted.

No, she buried herself into your hoodie, arms tight around your middle, like she was trying to memorize the way you felt. Like if she let go too soon, she’d forget how you laughed when she burned her first sugar pull. Or the way you dragged her to the beach and told her to breathe like it mattered.

And it did. It mattered more than she’d ever say aloud.

“…You sure?” you whispered.

Her answer came against your chest, muffled and soft. “Yeah. I think I gotta come back.”

You nodded, even if she couldn’t see it.

Even if some part of you screamed to hold on.

“Just know,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “if you ever wanna come back—not just for a week, not just for candy—you’ve got a place.”

She looked up at you then, eyes a little glassy but smiling. “You’d take me in like a stray cat?”

“I’d exploit you like an unpaid intern again.”

She smacked your arm. “You’re the worst.”

“You hugged me for a full minute, dummy.”

“Shut up. You're lucky you're cute.”

"Wait huh-" Before you could question, she playfully pushed you back and walked out, ignoring the blushes crept to her cheeks.

The others waved their goodbyes, polite and sweet, as Dami stepped outside. The car door shut with a gentle click, and just like that—she was driving off, a blur of black van and sunlight catching on the windshield.

You stood there for a while.

Letting the silence settle. Ignoring the tears left your eyes.

Letting the wind carry away whatever she left behind.

The candy shop was quieter now. But your fingers still smelled like sugar, and your chest still felt full.

Because sometimes, even goodbyes can taste sweet.

Especially when you know it’s not the last one. Just… not yet. Not today.

Sua (switch):

- Whether she's top or bottom, one thing is certain

- She WILL be worshipped

- When you're topping, she likes to be marked and complimented on her body

- You pay extra attention to her breasts, her most sensitive spot

- It feels like you could spend all day with your face in them

- You'll leave little bites all over them

- She'll push your face against her pussy, making you eat her out until she can't take it anymore

- She likes biting your shoulder

- Will surprise you when you get home from work with sexy lingerie

- She'll tie you to a chair and give you a lap dance

- It could go either one of two ways:

- One, you beg her at the end of the dance for her to untie you so you can touch her

- Two, you're so horny that you manage to free yourself

- If the second one happened, she'll be so turned on by your strength that she'll basically let you do anything you want to her

- When you're wearing a strap, her favourite position is reverse cowgirl

- Aftercare includes taking a shower or bath together

Siyeon (switch):

- LOVES face sitting

- You could happily die suffocated between those thighs

- Siyeon is very vocal and won't hold back her moans

- If you're making her feel good, your poor neighbours are gonna know it

- She loves it when you sit on her face too

- Her hands would have a tight grip on your hips, keeping you against her mouth

- There's been a few times when you've been paranoid of her passing out from lack of oxygen

- Very touchy

- You would be walking by her and she would reach out to grope you

- She'd constantly feel the need to be touching you, and sometimes she accidentally turns you on with her innocent touches

- Gives me the vibes that she likes holding your boobs, whether it's in a sexual way or not

- She's down to try out any kinks you want

- If she ends up not liking it then she moves on with no problems between you

- Her voice when she's turned on is huskier and deeper than usual

- She loves whispering in your ear and biting your earlobe

- She has a sweet side too

- During soft sex, doesn't matter if she's top or bottom, she loves to hold your hands

Handong (bottom):

- Gives power bottom vibes

- Kind of expects you to do everything for her

- Even though she's a bit shy any time you bring it up, she LOVES being choked

- It doesn't even have to be with just your hands, she has a collection of pretty collars and chains

- She'd choose a collar to wear after she wakes up, and throughout the day she'd tighten it little by little until the pressure on her neck feels perfect

- When you have her in the doggy style position, pounding her with your strap, you'll pull the collar so her neck is forced back and it gets hard for her to breathe

- Her favourite time to orgasm is when she can't breathe

- Even though she's shy about being choked, she's definitely not shy about wanting sex

- Feel like she's the type to whisper in your ear that she's horny, then walk off already expecting you to follow

- It doesn't matter where you are, you'll follow her

- It could be a small random room or a bathroom, doesn't matter because she'll want you to fuck her anywhere

- She likes the thrill of knowing anyone could catch you and the feeling of your palm covering her mouth to muffle her moans

- Also mirror sex

- She knows she's pretty and she gets off on watching herself being fucked

Yoohyeon (bottom)

- Has the biggest praise kink

- Combine that with puppy play, and she's the most satisfied girlfriend ever

- Loves head pats

- She's honestly down to try anything with you

- She has a special collar that has the tag “Y/N's property”

- Whenever she wants to start play time, she kneels at your legs

- You like to restrict one of her senses

- Your favourite is to restrict her speaking, making her only bark or whine

- It makes her feel humiliated and she loves it

- She's also kind of into free use

- She happily lets you fuck her whenever you want on her days off

- You'll come home from a rough day at work and before she can even ask you how it went, you're bending her over the couch

- Loves sucking your strap idc

- “That's a good girl, come on, you can take a bit more down your throat, can't you puppy?”

- SO good at riding

- You'll make her ride your strap until she can't hold herself up anymore

- Wears short and revealing clothing a lot, which drives you insane

- She likes it when you get jealous of other people seeing so much of her skin

- You make sure to remind her who she belongs to by fucking her into the mattress until she can't take it any longer (with consent ofc)

- But afterwards you better prepare to hold her for a long time

- She doesn't need much when it comes to aftercare except just being held and told she's a good girl

Dami (top):

- A lot of ppl see her as mean, but i think she'd be a soft dom

- Just wants to pleasure you

- Her strap game is crazyy

- You have a collection of dildos and other toys that she loves using on you

- You have an oral fixation

- Loves the feeling of your mouth around her fingers

- Will push them further down your mouth so you gag

- She'll call you her good girl while you choke

- And then she'll wipe your saliva messily on your cheek

- She's soooo good with fingering you too

- She knows all the right spots

- If you try to finger yourself when you're alone, you give up because your fingers can't reach places like she can

- When you've finished on her fingers, she places them on your mouth, expecting you to clean them

- Another thing that adds to your obsession with her hands is the way she caresses you

- She could be fucking you roughly but her hand will feel so gentle and soft against your skin

- If you're riding her strap, her hands gently glide from your neck to your shoulder and all over your body

- “That's it, you're almost there, you can come for me”

- Her ego grows so big because of how easy it is to make you come

- Kinda likes sleepy sex too

- Before bed if you are tired but can't sleep, she'll go under the covers and eat you out

- She takes her time and isn't aggressive since she doesn't want her jaw to ache before sleeping

- Your orgasm basically puts you to sleep

- She'll make sure to get wipes and clean you tho even if you're barely conscious

Gahyun (bottom)

- Pillow princess

- Teases you by wearing short skirts

- Pretends to drop something just to pick it up by bending over and revealing her underwear

- Size queen

- Always challenges herself to take the biggest strap she can

- Loves to dirty talk and whine about the size

- “Fuck, it's too big, I don't know if you'll fit”

- But you both know you'll make it fit

- Loves when you show your strength

- When you get home and pick her up to finger her against a wall

- Or pinning her against the bed with your hands around her wrists

- You could make out with her for hours

- Red and swollen lips is your favourite look on her

- Just like Sua, she has sensitive boobs

- Even an accidental touch can turn her on

- When she's riding your fingers or strap, you feel hypnotised watching them bounce

- You love to pull and lightly bite her nipples, which makes Gahyun more whiny

- She wants nothing more in a relationship than to be taken care of

- So of course you eat her out while she's in bed catching up on her kdramas

- Loves sitting on your lap too

-------

“Darling, I’m here for you.”

JiU’s voice and gentle touch pulls you out of your slumber. You sniffle for a bit as she starts to rub your arm in a comforting manner.

“I can tell you’re sick,” She frowns for a moment before softly smiling to herself, “and I’m going to try to help you. What do you need from me?”

You cough into your elbow before sitting up in bed.

“You could cuddle with me, if you don’t mind getting sick?” You joke to yourself before seeing JiU move to your side. “I’m joking, please don’t make yourself sick-"

“If it’ll help you feel better, it’s worth the risk.” She wraps her arms around you as you gently pull her into the bed.

“I always feel better when you’re with me, Minji.”

A stuffed animal to the head isn’t an ideal way to wake up, but it sucks more when you’re sick and your sinus headache flares up immediately.

“You’ve been sick for days, and you didn’t text me earlier?” SuA scoffs as you toss the stuffed animal to the side.

“I would’ve, but I was afraid of that sort of reaction.”

“C’mon, I’m your girlfriend! I can take care of you when you need me. You do the same for me when I need you most.” SuA looks disappointed, and you sigh to yourself.

“Alright, Nurse Bora, you can take care of me. But don’t take it as an excuse to rearrange my whole apartment-” You state as she laughs happily.

“I won’t, I promise! You won’t regret this.” SuA gives you a big hug, which tackles you further into the bed.

“Is this supposed to be healing?” You joke.

“Is it working?”

“Oddly enough, it is.”

“Babe, wake up.”

You rub your eyes before looking over at Siyeon.

“Siyeon-ah?” You croak out before she shushes you.

“I saw the tissues and the medicine on the counter. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s wrong,” She looks around in her bag for a moment, “but it does take a genius for me to remember my gift for you.”

Siyeon continues to dig in her bag as you grab your water.

“Siyeon, it’s okay, I’m just happy that you’re here with me,” You try to reach out to her with your hand, but she’s preoccupied, “Siyeon?”

Siyeon pauses for a moment, blinks twice, before gently placing her hand on her forehead.

“I forgot your care package at the dorms, I’m so sorry-”

You go to grab Siyeon’s hand, and you successfully do so before tumbling out of bed.

Siyeon laughs as she lays on top of you, apparently you pulled her down with you, and you find yourself doing the same.

“Feel better?” She smiles at you.

“I do.”

You wake up, alone, and you attempt to reach for your phone, but it’s not there anymore. You fumble in the dark for a few moments before a soft light appears next to you. Handong (who looks absolutely beautiful in the light) sits next to you.

“Sorry, love, your phone was almost dead and I wanted to make sure it was charged for you.” Handong adjusts the light as you cough and sit up in bed. “I wasn’t sure you were in the mood for company.”

“I’d rather have you here.” You weakly say. “Thanks for coming.”

“Good, because if you asked me to leave, I would’ve stayed in your living room until you passed out from exhaustion or fell asleep.”

“Geez, Handong, it’s like you’re obsessed with me or something. What a perv~” You chuckle as she scoffs before lightly smacking you. “Wow, hurt the ill. Way to prove a point.”

“Glad you’re feeling better.” She smiles before rubbing your shoulder. “You deserved that, by the way.”

“I disagree, you’re so mean to me.” You whine before laughing alongside her.

"Hey Siri!”

You raise your head, checking for Yooh’s phone, before burying your head back into a pillow.

“She’s not here.” You mumble to yourself.

Yoohyeon calls out to her phone, again, before opening the door to your room.

“Have you seen my phone?” She asks as you rise from your bed.

“No, I don’t think you’ve been in here. I would've woken up earlier if you had been.”

“Oh, you’re totally right!” She closes the door for a moment before opening it again. “I bought a few things from the store, and I’m going to order food when I can find my phone. Just stay in bed until you feel better, and I’ll bring you everything, alright?”

“Yooh, it’s okay, I can get out of bed.” You try to pull off the covers, but Yoohyeon’s disapproving glare causes you to stay in bed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you… once I find my phone.” She sighs to herself before facing away from the door. “Hey Siri!”

You’re happy to have Yoohyeon as a caretaker since you know she’ll take good care of you once her affairs are in order, of course.

Before you rise out of bed, you pull the mysterious, foreign (wet?) object from your face. When you realize that it’s a washcloth, you put it back onto your face. Laying down with that thing on your head feels like the best thing possible, since it helps relieve your headache.

Unfortunately, the drainage from your nose prevents you from completely lying down. You suffice for a half-up, half-down method of lounging before reaching for your phone.

Your hand meets a glass of water before your phone, and you happily drink from it as you are provided with some temporary relief from your sore throat. You wonder who did all of this… you didn’t text anyone, did you?

When you get to your phone, you notice multiple missed calls and messages from Dami.

My Love: I’ll be over in a few minutes, I need to grab a few things from the dorm.

Are you alright? You haven’t answered me yet.

One of your work friends texted me that you called out sick, so I’m guessing that you’re resting. If you see this, I’ll be there when you wake up.

“Dami, honey, where are you?” You call out to her before coughing.

“I’m in the living room, darling. Do you want me to come in?” Dami asks from the other side of the door. “I came in earlier to put a washcloth on your face since you were running a fever, and then I grabbed water in case you wanted it.”

“You can come in, if you want.” You set the water down as Dami opens the door. “Thanks for the water and the washcloth.”

“I don’t mind helping you out since it looked like you needed it.” She says before a light smile breaks out onto her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Thanks, Dami,” You sit up fully and readjust the washcloth, “I appreciate the sentiment. Hopefully, you weren’t busy before you came over.”

“I wanted to see you, anyway. How are you feeling?”

“Not great, but I’m managing. I get these sinus infections every year.” You shrug to yourself. “They’re terrible, but after a day or two off of work, I’ll be back to myself… mostly.”

She smiles to herself before looking you over again.

“If there’s anything you need, at all, I can get it for you.”

“Thanks, love, I appreciate it.” You say before Dami closes the door and leaves you to get more rest.

“Why did you text me? I'm right here next to you.” Gahyeon grumbles for a moment before turning to face you. “Listen, I know you're upset with me for getting you sick, but I'll make it up to you-”

“-with hugs and kisses and lots of affection?” You force your cutest expression as she tries to hold back her laughter.

“I was going to offer to pay for dinner, but I can go for the free option if you would like.” She wraps her arms around you after you pull her closer. “I'm really sorry, babe, I didn't mean to get you sick after you took care of me.”

“It was worth it, seeing you so happy. I'd do it all over again for you.” You say before covering your mouth for an incoming cough.

“You're so sweet,” She blushes as she mumbles into your chest, “and I love you so much.”

You hear her sniffle as you chuckle to yourself.

“I love you too, every bit of you. And you don't need to apologize for getting me sick, I was probably infected before I came over to your place.”

You knew Dami was in your shared room doing a voice vlive and you knew you definitely shouldn't bother her until she was done, but the sight of her in a tiny cropped denim jacket and matching jeans left unbuttoned for the photoshoot showing off her Calvin Klein bra and boxers and her smooth, tan stomach made you lose sight of all rationality and walk into your room anyways.

She was talking to the fans about something (and you were too distracted by the fake tattoo on her hip to be bothered by what that something was), barely noticing or minding your presence. Had she known the thoughts running through your mind after an entire day of seeing her in that outfit, she probably would've shooed you away immediately, fearing the things you might do or say to her while the fans could hear.

But, she couldn't possibly know any of this as you got in bed and slid in between her and the wall, an innocent expression on your face disguising your true intentions. She simply sent you a curious glance, her attention still mostly on her phone as she scrolled through the live chat. You leaned onto your elbow and held your head up with your hand while you watched her fingers flexing as she flicked them across the screen. Just the simple action sent your mind wandering to past memories of late nights shared between you and her and a heat started rushing through your body.

When she brought the phone closer to her face to read something out loud, you watched her lips move, licking your own at the thought of what they tasted like. She shifted her jaw in thought, moving your gaze to her jawline and down her neck. At her movements, the muscles there tightened and relaxed, making you subconsciously swallow. You couldn't explain what it was, but something about her neck was so attractive and only worsened the burning in the pit of your stomach.

Dami must've noticed you staring, her eyes meeting yours with a curious expression. She raised her eyebrows, a hint of amusement on her lips. Well... until she finally recognized the look in your eyes. In that moment you scooted close enough so that your sides were touching and your faces were mere inches apart. You bit your lip and glanced at hers before sliding your hand down her body and placing it on her warm, bare stomach. The feeling of her soft skin was addicting and your fingers slowly moved lower until they met the waistband of her boxers.

You could tell your actions caught her off guard because her eyebrows raised slightly and she had to clench her jaw to stop herself from gasping. Although Dami wasn't one to give her feelings away easily, her tinted cheeks exposed just how much you were affecting her. Without sparing a second, you closed the distance to kiss her... except your lips never met, her hand shooting up to grip your neck. The panicked look in her eyes told you that she had done it in fear that the fans would hear, but her hand placement didn't have quite the effect she wanted it to.

"Yub-" you started to whine in protest but, with one hand preoccupied with her phone and the other loosely clutching your neck, she had no choice but to cut off your voice with her lips. Finally, you sunk into her mouth, showing her how much you’d wanted her all day with just one kiss. You kept her bottom lip between yours, prolonging the kiss for as long as possible. She let out a staggered exhale against your cheek through her nose and followed you as you pulled back slowly. It may have just been so that your lips didn't make a sound with their release, but the way she didn't seem too concerned about the voice live at that moment convinced you that she did it because she didn't actually want you to pull away.

Either way, when it ended, she still gently pushed you off of her, making sure to lightly remove your hand from her waist before looking back at her phone and quickly reading a comment in hopes that the fans weren't suspicious of the long silence and, more importantly, that they didn't hear any of what just went down between you two. Dami usually scolded you for your unprofessional behavior, but it was obvious that she was never actually mad at you. And you sometimes even wondered if she got off on exhilarating moments like these where you both knew you’d be in massive trouble had the fans somehow found out what was really happening.

For the next few minutes you decided not to test her patience and instead laid there on your side, staring at her. She was clearly uneasy after what just happened and thankfully ended the live not long after. Once she was sure it was turned off properly, she faced you. Unlike what you expected, she didn't start ridiculing you for your careless actions, but instead shoved your shoulder to lay you flat on the bed and climbed on top of you, situating herself between your legs.

Dami was never one to be this aggressive and you found your head spinning with both lust and confusion as she grabbed your neck again to kiss you deeply. Her other hand held her up so that all her weight wasn't on you, leaving a gap between your bodies. You took advantage of the space, putting your palm on her flat stomach while running the other across her side until you reached her hip. You felt her shiver at the ghost of your fingers across her skin and smirked into her mouth, remembering how sensitive she was there.

This made her pull back from your lips and look down at you. She appeared less like the warm, soft woman you were used to and now looked intimidating. You breathed heavily, keeping her intense eye contact as her hand travelled down your arm to where your fingers were toying with her waistband. She grabbed your wrist and abruptly pinned your hand above your head, leaning over you again and whispering, "Is this what you wanted?" Her voice was calm but threatening and it sent a tingle through your body. You’d never done anything to elicit this sort of reaction out of her and you didn’t know yet whether to be thankful or regretful for your previous actions.

You swallowed hard, feeling your pulse race from how different she was acting. Your head nodded on its own in response but she didn't seem satisfied.

"Say it,” she commanded in a deep voice. Her lips grazed across your jawline as she leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Tell me what you want." You shivered.

A few seconds after her words, you felt her fingers intertwine with yours where she held your hand at the head of the bed and your heart skipped a beat. You knew it was her way of reminding you that she would never do or say anything to make you uncomfortable. When you didn't answer immediately, she was probably worried that she’d taken it too far. But you needed her to know this is exactly what you wanted. So you replied,

"I want you."

That was all it took for her to pull back and capture your lips in hers, spending the rest of the night granting your wish over and over again until you were both satisfied.

**This imagine was transferred over from my Wattpad account OT5Stan4Life**

The only sound heard in the dead of the night were the clashing of your swords. Brutal and clean, metal shrieking as you fought. The vibrations or the blade carried down the castle floors and walls, you were surprised no one had rushed to stop you yet. 

Yubin was relentless in her pursuit. Every blow of her sword, measured and calculated and precise. She gained steps on you, pushing you back, forcing you to defend yourself. There was not a single chance for you to attack her. It would only be a moment before you’re cornered or distracted. 

Though, it did not matter much. Her sword was only an extension for her righteous fury. 

Anger, you could understand. However, it was her silence that scared you. 

You have committed an action so wrong that there was no redemption. Not this time. Not from her. 

At last, you’ve crossed a line even she cannot ignore. 

Her eyes were empty but fixated, she’d shut away any of her emotions—goal oriented—to either catch you or kill you. She only wore such a look at war. 

You would’ve tried your usual pathetic routes. An apology, a joke, a remembrance of a memory, some excuse—any excuse to justify why you did what you did. 

But even you knew there was no redemption from this. You will have to live with that. 

Perhaps, you were not saddened by the fact she considered you a threat. A traitor. An evil. 

Or that, she found no mercy. No more chances. 

No, what hurt you most was that she showed not a single shred of hesitation. If not hesitation, not a single mournful look for the years you’d spent fighting by her side. That easily, she’d thrown you out of her mind and heart. At the end, nothing overpowered her duty. Not even you. 

Your foot caught on the edge of an uneven tile and you went careening on your back. Your sword swept from your hands in one clean strike, the same strike that left a warm gash on your cheek. 

Tentatively, you brought a gloved hand to feel the warmth soak up the fabric. 

There, you understood. Your one saving grace, a final act of kindness from her. The pulled strike to only weakly mar your cheek and let you know that, perhaps, she did feel some emotion in hunting you. Even if it was brief. 

You looked up at her. Yubin looked down at you. 

Her sword pointed at your neck.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: do not know when other members will get their parts,,,literally this doc was the last i opened/wrote in and it was dated back to start of july ;-; have a good day/night everyone :]

But regardlessly, within that, you found true beauty. 

-

The thing to break you from your pleasant reverie was the hushed sound of an attendant’s voice over the intercom, providing a time check and announcing that the cart of refreshments would be brought around shortly. 

You peeked out of the window at your side, taking one last look at the velvety night sky before pulling the cover down and turning away. 

Dami’s eyes were shut and her arms were crossed at her chest; she was resting peacefully, just like a majority of the other travelers. The personal lights above everyone’s seats were all dimmed, basking the cabin in comfortable darkness. Some passengers employed the use of the small televisions mounted against the backs of the seats in front of them, and sparse illumination came from others that were on their phones or tablets as well. 

But for the most part, the darkness won out. 

You watched as a few people woke up, some on their own and others prompted by a jab from their friends or family sitting next to them. They wiped the sleep from their eyes and stretched, reaching down to retrieve their wallets from their carry-ons so that they could buy some snacks. 

You pondered for a moment, deciding on whether or not you should wake Dami up. She looked far too comfortable for you to do so and keep a clear conscience, and you knew she needed the rest anyway; the first few stops of the tour had drained her a bit more than she had prepared for. 

So you resolved to buy something for her instead. You already knew the foods that she preferred, after all, and she could eat them whenever she naturally woke up. It was a win-win in your mind.

Upon rifling through your bag and grabbing some of the cash you had stashed away, you took a second to admire her. The curve of her face was visible in the low light, soft and as pretty as always, and a small pout pulled at her lips, making her cheeks puff out slightly. It truly took every ounce of self control you possessed to refrain from poking them; but you prevailed in the end. 

Her chest rose and fell softly, lulled and gentle like waves lapping on a shore. It brought you comfort just seeing her like that, so cozy and peaceful. She deserved every second of it. 

“Miss?” An approaching, hushed voice asked, addressing you. 

You raised your head and were met with a pleasant smile from one of the attendants. The aisle’s sidelights were on at her feet, ensuring that her movements were well guided. 

“Would you like some refreshments?” She pulled the cart into view and pressed a button, turning the lights of it on so that you could see what each tier had to offer. 

You made quick work of choosing and paying, and before long she was quietly thanking you and handing over all of your goodies. Once you successfully got them all and unlocked the small tray attached to the seat in front of you, you pulled it down over your lap and laid everything out to sort. 

A minute or so later, once your work was done, you sat back with a happy sigh and snuck a glance at Dami. 

Although you had failed to notice it in your previously busy state, it became apparent that she had shifted closer to you. She was curled up a little more, and turned on her side, facing you. It awarded you a perfect vantage point for viewing the subtle smile on her lips; clearly whatever she was dreaming about was good, and that made you happy. 

One of her hands had fallen onto the armrest, with her palm upturned towards the ceiling. It peeked out of her sweater paw, tempting you. 

You succumbed to your weakness and reached over, carefully intertwining your fingers with her own. 

She reacted on instinct, still fully asleep; her hand curled into your slightly warmer one, and a quiet noise of contentment left her. She moved closer once again, and before you knew it her head had found its way to your shoulder, nestling there. Her warm breath fanned out across your neck, almost tickling. 

Snacking, you decided, could wait a while. Sleep was creeping up on you, anyway, and moving was no longer an option. 

You eased your head down atop hers and settled a little more in the seat, getting comfortable for the both of you. Your eyes fluttered shut as the smell of her shampoo washed over you, and you gently rubbed your cheek against her soft hair, allowing sleep to begin dragging you under. 

—

When you awoke a few hours later, things in the cabin were slightly busier than before. A few more people had rejoined the world of the conscious, and glimmers of hazy, early morning sunlight attempted to shine their way in through the plane’s oval windows. 

The tray across your lap had been cleared off and returned to its vertical position, providing room for you to comfortably move around and stretch the tension from your muscles. A blanket was draped over your body as well, courtesy of Dami. 

You blinked the sleep from your eyes and lifted your head from her shoulder, finding that somewhere along the way you had traded positions with her. She looked over at you, and her face neared yours in the process. 

“Sleep well, baby?” She smiled sweetly, pushing her glasses up a little higher on the bridge of her nose. 

You nodded, still not fully alert yet. The fog of sleep weighed heavily on your mind and clouded your senses. Perhaps that explained why when you felt something soft and warm against your thigh, tucked away beneath the blanket, you didn’t immediately register it as her hand. 

You peeked over at her illuminated phone screen and discovered that she was in the middle of reading a book. 

“How long have you been up?” The question came out as a groggy mumble.

Judging by the opened bag of gummies tucked away in her seat pocket, you guessed it had been at least a few minutes. You were glad to know that she liked what you got her.

Her lips pursed in thought. “Not long. Maybe half an hour or so.”

“Good. I know you needed it.”

“Yeah?” She grinned. “You were out like a light, too, you know.” 

Your face twisted into an anticipatory grimace at that. “Did I snore?”

Her head shook lightly as she removed her glasses and put them in her bag, and you visibly relaxed. 

“No, sweetheart. But you did get a little fidgety,” she revealed. “I was afraid you were having a nightmare.”

“What made you think that?”

She shot a quick glance around before moving a little closer to you. “Well, for one, you kept saying my name. And it sounded desperate, too, like something big was about to happen.”

Warmth rushed to your cheeks as her explanation sent realization crashing down onto you. 

“And you squirmed in your seat, too,” she continued, seemingly oblivious to your embarrassment. 

“But when I touched you, you stopped.” She shrugged, and the movement caused her hand to move a little. Her knuckles brushed against your center, just light enough to draw your attention. 

“Dami…” you started, before lowering your voice a bit more to spare your own pride, “...I don’t think that was a nightmare.”

When you pulled away enough to get a good look at her face, you witnessed a sinister change take place. 

“No?” She toyed, using the lilt in her voice to further tease you. “What else could it have been, then?” The innocence in her smile disappeared, opting instead to rebrand itself as arrogance. 

“You already know,” you muttered, blushing a little harder and turning your head away. 

Although things in the cabin were more active than before, concealment and deniability were made available by the relative darkness that still remained. It was a decent remedy for your shyness, and you silently thanked your lucky stars for it. 

And, for what it was worth, Dami was making sure to keep her voice hushed and her movements covered. Her aim wasn’t to make this unenjoyable for you; she just simply lived for teasing you every now and again… and she couldn’t deny that the thought of public play with you did something to her. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, unconvinced. “I don’t think I do, jagi. You’ll have to tell me.”

Her hand worked a little higher on your thigh, caressing the sensitive skin there. Hidden desire guided it, leading her to pull your legs apart a little more and grant herself better access. 

But you stopped her, quickly encircling your fingers around her wrist and preventing her from continuing. 

“Don’t start something that we can’t finish.”

She chuckled to herself at that. 

“Who says we can’t?” She asked, entirely serious, as she brought her face near yours again. Her eyes flitted across your features, taking their time to study them before eventually falling to your lips. Her tongue unconsciously poked out and slid across her own. 

“That bathroom is not big enough for us to fuck in.” You asserted.

“I can make you cum right here, Y/N/N. No need to even get up.” She stated lowly, her deep voice full of husky confidence. You drew in a sharp breath at her forwardness, and she noticed the change. 

When you shied away again, she took the opportunity to lean in and press a kiss to your neck. Her lips were pillowy against your sensitive skin – soft enough to tickle, even, had the stifling tension between you been absent. 

Warmth radiated from her, beaconing you closer. She was right there. She wanted you. She could take you in under five minutes, too, probably, considering how worked up you were already becoming. She could make you feel so good…

Who were you to deny yourself something so perfect?

Your grip on her wrist loosened, slowly but surely, as you handed control back over to her and submitted to whatever fate she had planned. 

She kissed the area just below your jawline while simultaneously spreading your legs apart again. Their innocent trembling was obvious – you were inexperienced with sex in this sort of setting – but it only made her smile and fall for you a little more.

"You're precious, jagi," she complimented. "I've got you; don't worry. Just let me help," she coaxed, kissing you again between the words. She switched hands in order to offer a better angle, and you sighed helplessly at the feeling of her fingers fully rubbing up and down your clothed center. 

“Go slow,” you pleaded, briefly peering over her shoulder. 

Relaxed movements would be easier to cover up if you got caught. 

The upturn of her lips against your neck was obvious. “Remember this moment when you’re begging me to speed up,” she teased. 

“Just shut up and fuck me.”

She tutted, “You know, maybe you need another nap–”

“Yubin.” Your voice was sharp, full of warning. The two of you truly bickered like a married couple sometimes. 

“Alright, Y/N/N,” she giggled a little against your skin, and you felt a small smile growing on your face, too, in time with the roll of your eyes. 

Her hand finally slid into your panties, putting distance between your wet skin and the ruined material. When her fingertips parted your folds, she felt just how much arousal awaited her; a quiet, surprised groan slipped out of her mouth at the sensation, and you blushed a little harder in response. She tended to be the quiet type during sex, so even the most subtle of her sounds made your heart pump a bit faster. 

“I knew you’d be wet, but this much?” She whispered breathlessly, sounding amazed as she collected more of your slick and circled your clit with her thumb. She toyed with you, fully enjoying the way your body responded so easily to her. 

“All your fault.” You struggled out. 

Without any further warning, two of her fingers slid into your entrance. 

Your walls fluttered in response, enveloping them in their warmth in an attempt to coax them in further. One of your hands instinctively reached out and tangled in the front of her shirt, pulling her in, and the other grasped helplessly at the armrest that it laid across. 

“Still so tight, Y/N,” she sighed at how soft you were – how smooth. Her fingers pulled out almost completely, curling on their way, before she eased them back in. She wanted so badly to see you spread out, dripping for her; but she settled, opting instead to focus on every little movement and sound you made as her mind filled itself with images.

A slow grind took control of your hips, aiming to lessen the ache. The motion brought her palm into contact with your swollen clit, and when she noticed, she decided to help. She rubbed it, applying a delicious kind of pressure that made your legs shake a little. 

Her free hand grabbed your chin and turned your head, forcing you to look at her. Through the dark, she watched your brows knit together in pleasure. Before you had the chance to bite your lip, you felt hers sliding across it, trapping it between her own. 

She kissed you passionately, greedily swallowing up the moan that you let out into her mouth and adding the smallest bit of speed to her movements. 

The seat made a squeak beneath you – a product of your grinding growing sloppy. Your fingers weakly tightened in her shirt as you fought your inhibitions; it felt too good to stop or slow down, but you ran the risk of selling yourselves out at this rate. 

She bit your lip and pulled away, allowing you a moment to breathe. 

“Yu–”

Her name cut off abruptly in your throat when her fingers went even deeper, brushing up against your most sensitive spot in the process. Your thighs clamped around her hand in a desperate attempt to keep her in place and prevent her from slipping away.

“Fuck,” she cursed harshly. “You’re doing so well, baby.”

You pulsed around her at that, and both of you felt it. Sensuality ruled her every move, commanding them just as she commanded your body; but beyond it – beyond that languid, brewing passion – a real sense of need reigned supreme. She was just as desperate to get you to your high as you were to reach it. 

Nothing was capable of turning her on as much as watching you come undone for her. The idea alone added a certain, sudden roughness to her movements that had your stomach flipping in excitement. 

A kind of turbulence that you never wanted to end. 

“Just a–” you sighed, biting back another moan, “...a little more. I’m getting close.”

She took your plea as an order, not stopping for a second. It was hard to restrain herself, but she fought against her more primal urge to pound into you. The tenderness was a nice change, she supposed, as you turned your head further to the side and the warm, flushed skin of your cheek pressed to hers. Your every subsequent whimper and whine traveled right to her ear – the most alluring kind of music.

How could you be so perfect?

“Come on, pretty girl. Make a mess for me.” She commanded lowly, feeling you teeter on the edge of ecstasy. The blanket barely covered her wanton ministrations now. 

Somewhere ahead, further up the aisle, a man stood up from his seat. You could see it through the tiny gaps in between the chairs – small flashes of motion that indicated he was turning your way. 

It sent an icy streak of panic through you, but, oddly, your body couldn’t stop. Though your mind was pleading to wait – to still Dami’s hand until the potential crisis was averted – your desire overruled it. You grabbed her wrist again, encouraging her to quicken her pace. 

She raised a brow, looking between you and the approaching man. He was on his way to the restroom that resided a few rows behind you, she deduced. 

“Baby…”

“Just keep going,” you whined, trembling. 

She nodded and obediently followed your instructions. 

Though being caught wasn’t something you necessarily wanted, the thrill of it brought on an undeniably arousing kind of shame. 

Dami’s red cheeks would sell you out immediately, despite the futile excuse her kiss-bitten lips would still attempt to make. Your flushed skin and mussed clothes would further incriminate you, only worsened by her hand in your pants. 

Truly, the risky environment excited you far more than you cared to admit. To know that she wanted you so badly in that moment that she didn’t care who knew – who saw – pushed you further and further towards the edge. 

The passenger grew increasingly closer – now just a matter of a two or three rows away as he tiredly shuffled his way down the narrow walkway. He greeted a stray few people all the while, bidding them hello. 

Dami leaned into you, pressing her lips to your neck. She kissed and sucked at the skin just below your pulsepoint, leaving a mark for you to admire later. She sped up her movements inside of you and eagerly rubbed your aching clit.

“Yubin, I’m–” you struggled out, tightly shutting your eyes. 

“Cum, baby,” she directed. 

Unable to hold out any longer, you let yourself go, falling into paradise. You sunk your teeth into her shoulder to muffle your whines, and she herself moaned at the sensation. 

The man passed by mere seconds after, obliviously nodding in your direction as his eyes sought yours in the dark. 

Your body was still tingling as it recovered from the high of your orgasm.

“Morning, ladies,” he said. 

“Morning,” you both responded in unison, sounding so out of breath it made you laugh together afterward. 

Once he had officially disappeared, you kissed the bite mark on Dami's shoulder as a silent way of apologizing. She smiled as she eased her fingers out of you, making more of a mess in your panties on the way. 

“Told you I could get you off,” she whispered through a grin, and kissed your cheek. 

Sugarcoat, I cast off

Whatever you say about me

Being reserved made you mysterious, and mystery caused rumors to cloud around your everyday movement and activities. Your dating life tended to be the worst of them all as classmates and co-workers alike would often pin you to be a player or completely uninterested in everything. You simply wished to sit next to someone and not see them lean over to talk to someone else.

So, you kept in your shell and kept to yourself. People didn’t need to know anything more about you then you would tell-

“Can I sit here?” 

A warm, deep voice snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“Sure.”

You gently observe the brown-haired woman who sits next to you. Intro to Philosophy, a social studies credit for your major, would prove to be more interesting than you thought. You notice that she pulls out a laptop that is well-endowed with stickers on the back.

“I like the stickers on your laptop.” You quietly say as your professor enters the classroom.

“Thanks. They’re just from different shows and musicians that I like.” She pauses for a moment as you continue to observe the different logos and characters on them. “Would you be interested in a tour?”

A light smile appears on your face - a rarity in class, especially by another person.

“I’d like that.”

Just move, as I want

Dancing for myself

“You take dance classes?” You ask you spot her daily schedule as the background on the computer. “Sorry, that was invasive and weird-“

“It’s just once a week with a close group of friends.” Dami explains before opening a browser to prepare materials for today’s class. “What about you? Any remarkable interests?”

“Nothing that you haven’t heard from others before, I’m sure-“

“I’d much rather make my observations in-person rather than by rumors.”

“I-“ You pause as a slight bout of embarrassment crosses your features. “I think that’s the first time someone’s spoken to me instead of about me.”

“It’s a shame, really,” Dami glances at you before the professor starts class, “they’re missing out on a great person.”

Another first happens within two weeks - someone manages to make your heartbeat quicken.

Don’t sugarcoat me, baby

Complex is over-rated

You like to simplify the world around you - it makes your life so much simpler. The grass is green, the sky is blue, and you most definitely have feelings for the mysterious yet kind girl who goes out of her way to always sit next to you or save you a seat whenever you have class.

You think that she’s caught on to your feelings as her hand lingers on yours when she’s looking at your computer or how her eyes catch yours when the professor goes off-topic every class period.

“You’re strange,” You comment as your professor talks about their dog again, “but I don’t mind.”

“Me?” Dami chuckles softly. “I think that’s the first time someone’s said that to my face.”

A light smile plays on your features as you notice your classmates aren’t paying you any mind - it’s so relaxing  to know that you’re not under the microscope of your peers.

“I like that you’re strange, you’re like me,” You pause to still your beating heart, “but I was wondering if you’d like to get lunch sometime?”

“With you?” A warm, inviting smile stays on her face. “Absolutely.”

The transparent moonlight

Pours out, more freely