「 Running on Fumes 」
l. bada x BEBE ! f reader ✎𓂃 You never favored the spotlight, yet years later, you're on Street Woman Fighter 2 with your girlfriend and the rest of BEBE. Due to disliking a lot of the pressure and eyes on you, there seems to be a crack that grows after hearing every hurtful word some crews said about you.
word count ! 2.6 k
requested ! 🐚 anon: hello! can I request a bada × reader story? the scenario is bada and the reader is in the same group and they are together. during the evaluation the reader got a lot of criticism and also got a lot of no respect stickers. I wanna know how will bada react 🥹 thank you! 🫶🏻
Throughout your entire career, you were never a fan of being in front of a camera. Always being riddled with nerves and anxiety, it made growing up relatively hard. It’s what caused your mother to push for what she believed was best for you. Which all parents usually do, but your mother went the extra mile to ‘better’ you.
There was always a looming thought in your mind—whether to thank or be angry at your mom. Because, as traumatic as your childhood was, she’s what got you into dancing in the first place. When you stepped into a ballet studio at the age of seven, you almost peed in your tutu while watching all the other experienced kids doing pliés and pirouettes. The experience left your stomach queasy, and your head spinning a bit—their incredibly slim yet lean figures could put negative thoughts in your head within an instant.
It was bearable… for the most part.
Yet at a young age, you begin to realize how negative adults can really be with kids, just like how your ballet instructor can be. Your mom forced you to stay in ballet, mainly because of a month's deposit she made on the class. So you had to stick it through, even if your teacher made your emotional self cry every night.
Regardless of those variables, you still found dancing fun. After you ended ballet, you've just danced at home in your room. It usually meant your fluffy socks gliding against the carpet of your room while wearing some random shorts and a large shirt. You would even act like you weren’t doing anything when your mom walked into your room, silently breathing heavily in an effort not to be caught out of embarrassment.
Despite all your efforts, your mom isn’t stupid. She knew all about your dancing, especially with all the thumping on the upper levels of the house. So, to her, maybe, just maybe, to help you get out of your shell, she could put you into another class.
Fortunately, she did because you spent a week dancing the exact choreography you learned the day of. It didn’t necessarily help all the pent-up anxiety within you, but it did help with your confidence.
After a couple of years of doing so, you had finally began to have found a love for commercial dance classes. Not only did you find a new talent to be proud of, but it’s also when you started to meet your long-time friends.
Leejung was one of the first few of you met. When you were about fourteen years old, your parents realized how seriously you were beginning to take these classes, and realized that moving to Seoul would be beneficial for you.
Once that happened, your first class introduced you to many of the Korean choreographers you’d see today. When you turned eighteen, you decided this was something you wanted to pursue.
So even without liking the camera and media, you went into all of it headfirst. Making a name for yourself on social media, taking as many classes as you can, and even trying to set up your own classes.
It was working as well, and everything seemed to be going great. There was nothing in your way.
Your parents were still hesitant about the career choice, but your father, being himself, was your biggest advocate when it came to your mother and your passion.
Thank the universe she didn’t—or else you would’ve never met Bada.
The woman who you’d consider to be the love of your life. It was a pretty lackluster first impression, both of you sweating and dancing in the middle when called to do so. Bada’s a social butterfly—if she figured she liked your look and personality, she would personally go out of her way to talk to you.
You like to think she saw you as interesting enough to even be friends with, when it clearly became more than that. There wasn’t any opposition to being in a relationship; it was just something you never really thought about.
Since your main focus was getting out of your shell, you never really had a crush.
Yet when Bada came into your life, you were easily swept off your feet by the woman, which was just common for anything Bada does. By the time you realized you had some inkling of feelings for her, both of you were in the dance studio alone, and she had almost kissed you before stopping herself.
When that happened, you took a leap of faith. There wasn’t much thought behind it, but you kissed Bada the following week after another class you guys shared. From then on, there were dates, hangouts, and kisses until it finally became official between the two of you.
Then came the rise of Street Woman Fighter. The first season was an undeniable hit, people like No:ze and even Lee Chaeyeon gained more popularity than intended.
Long story short, after the first season, Bada had begun curating her own dance crew, BEBE. It was at a point in time when both you and Bada now had bigger careers. Your girlfriend had worked with multiple SM artists by then, while you worked with artists from multiple companies, and both of you were becoming somewhat known names in the dance scene.
Even teaching in multiple classes that same year. Getting close to certain students helped with the completion of the crew, and she even asked you—well, that’s how you find yourself here, seated first in the fight zone of the building with Bada beside you.
You feel sweat clinging to the palms of your hands as you rest them at the edge of your seat, right beside your thighs.
There’s a feeling of warmth that settles right above your hand, looking over to see Bada using her hand to hold your. She gives a soft smile, mouthing if your okay and you nod.
The atmosphere felt a bit suffocating, especially when a video starts playing on the large monitor. You could feel how you almost jolt up from the loud volume and some groups began to talk about BEBE.
A lot of what each crew said was expected. How you guys haven’t been a crew for a long time, Bada and her copy cats, Bada overshadowing everyone else, blah blah blah.
You mentally prepared for what they would say about you guys… well, mostly that is.
“Y/n-nim… seems to look really cold, no?” You watch as Mina Myoung points at your photo, the rest of Deep N Dap nodding along. “She looks really mean,” JJ says, in a more innocent manner.
The next clip is 1Million watching videos of your dancing, and Lia Kim tilts her head, obviously confused for some reason. “I don’t really see anything special here,” their youngest, Harimu, tells them, and Lia claps once. “That’s exactly what I couldn’t put into words, Bada just seems like the star of the crew.”
“She’s popular for this mysterious facade she has on social media, right?” Yeni questions and Chocol nods. “Is she popular for her dancing or just the mysterious vibe of not showing her face much?” Halo asks, and you see the rest of the women shrug.
You huffed out the long breath you had been holding in, unsure of how to respond, but it was clear in the way your jaw clenched. Mnet had done a very good job of creating a dramatic atmosphere, and you didn’t know they would kind of push the boundaries of your insecurities.
Shouldn’t have thought so highly of them in the first place. You couldn’t be mad about it all since a lot of it was the truth. Glancing over to your right, Bada’s face is being hit by the cool-toned lighting, the rush of red on her cheeks growing darker from festering anger after each word a person spoke.
Her fist clenched hard, seeing the colors of her knuckles fading into white. With cameras all around, it was difficult to grab her hand or do anything outwardly comforting. The best you could do was brush your finger up against the back of Bada’s hand, and you can see how her shoulders relax from your peripheral vision.
That only lasted for about ten seconds, because as soon as the video ends, the room is filled with the sounds of slamming as you and the girls watch stickers being placed right next to your names.
Bada, despite being popular like everyone said, only got two stickers—from very obvious people, you might add.
You knew Bada well enough by now to know about the history between her and Redy, while she worked with Redlic quite often. There was something at the tip of your tongue about it all, but as you're about to whisper about it to Bada, the monitor shows multiple stickers slamming right beside your name.
Six to be exact.
Not knowing whether to find it amusing or outright disrespectful, a scoff escapes your lips as you look a bit shocked. It was clear that you weren’t as well-known as your girlfriend, and you believed you had gone past that era of feeling like you were overshadowed by her aura. Yet standing here made you feel that same anxiety and frustration—the same feelings you had when the first comment of you and Bada showed up in some YouTube comments.
You even remember the first time reading it. The comment was under a video of a choreography made by you, and Bada had joined the class last minute, to everyone’s knowledge. In the video, you had put everyone in groups except Bada to show her off.
Not many people knew you two were together, but it didn’t mean you weren’t going to be proud and show her off. In your mind, it isn’t clear if that choice of yours was a mistake or not when you read, ‘I usually dislike Y/n’s style of dancing, but Bada-nim made it work and I love it!’
Reading the comment threw you off, and Bada even noticed it. There was a point in time when you distanced yourself because of it.
That was at the beginning of your relationship, and you had to learn to grow from it. There’s also no denying that gaining your own fanbase certainly helped the matter.
Bada’s eyes shift towards you, seeing how your face has become a shade paler at the silence. You have a brilliant girlfriend, and she knows you get into your head… like a lot.
She knew it was likely going to be worse this time since you didn’t take kindly to badmouthing. Constructive criticism was something you could handle, maybe one tear will roll down your face, but you tend to keep your head up high.
Now, comments like these—they’re a big problem. Due to being so harsh on yourself, Bada could already feel the breakdown coming. It wasn’t something she ‘wanted’ to be aware of, but you gave her enough signals that it was going to come soon.
The hair combing, the cracking of your fingers, the way you’d press your lips shut tight, and how you would begin rotating your wrist as if you’re stretching. Within a minute, you had done all of that in order as you took your seats.
You couldn’t even focus for the rest of the show, just constantly spacing out. Like, even with everyone being hype about Jam Republic, Kang Daniel, or Shonwu, you just sat in the corner beside Bada, just staring at the floor as if it were a void.
There was a tug on your sleeve, bringing you out of your head, and you looked up to see Bada holding on, waiting for you to come along with her. Quietly, you get up, not saying a word, as Bada gives you a hug while bringing you up the stairs.
All of the girls were mentally prepping for battles, more excited than nervous, but when Lusher realized you hadn’t voiced your opinions at all, she carefully warned the rest to tone it down.
As you changed at the deeper end of the hideout, Bada kept looking at you, her worried eyes saying it all. You could see how the tail ends of her brows turned down while glancing every once in a while. “Unnie, should I have everyone head out first?” Lusher whispers to the eldest, who only watched as you paced back and forth like you were keeping yourself busy with something. “Yeah…” Bada mumbles, just keeping track of you.
The third oldest began ushering out each member, explaining that you two would follow.
“Babe?” You hear her call out while walking, but your legs wouldn’t seem to stop working on their own. They just kept going and going and going.
That was until you heard her call out again, and it was the thing that made you pause. “Are you okay?”
Those damned trigger words.
You feel the tears pooling in your eyes, looking down as you try taking deep breaths to hold them back. “Yeah,” you tried telling her, or yourself even, but your trembling voice made it clear that if you didn’t cry it out now, you’d be crying on the stage later, and she knew you wouldn’t want that.
Bada opens her arms, one hand in a beckoning motion—her welcoming you into her arms. You shuffle over to where she’s seated, sitting on her lap softly as you lay your head in the crook of her neck.
Her warmth was good enough to calm you down, her scent could’ve drowned your worries at that exact moment.
But once you feel the palm of her hand running up and down your back softly, the water works begin to fall. The sounds of your sniffles and whimpers filled the room as her arms wrapped around you.
She feels your tears wetting her neck, due to your lashes fluttering against them ever so lightly. “T-This show makes m-me feel stupid. They made me l-look like a joke,” you talk through your tears, gasping for air throughout your sentence as you couldn’t stop the emotions overcoming you.
You feel Bada caressing your head, hushing you to say everything is okay. She even presses a few light kisses on the top of your head, and it seems to be doing the trick.
She had felt your breathing become far more relegated, how you stopped shaking and stopped gripping her shirt.
Bada leans back, sweeping the strands of hair out of your face, then taking the pad of her thumb to wipe away the tears staining your face.
“They’re just trying to stir drama,” she whispers in your ear, making sure the production team wouldn’t hear, and you nod, ultimately agreeing with Bada.
Due to everyone changing, it was a quick camera break, and Bada was about to make the most of it.
“One, I’m sure everyone here respects you. Two, you are the most talented, strong, hardworking, beautiful woman in the whole wide world,” she tells you, stretching out her arms to signify the size of the world.
Her nose scrunches up while doing so, making you giggle. The reaction has her looking at you with a smile, taking you into her arms once more. “There’s that beautiful smile I know and love.”
She softly moves you off her lap, seating you right next to her as she goes over to get her cap next to the door, then places it on your head. You feel how it shimmies down your hair, the large brim covering you, likely, irritated and puffy eyes.
“Let’s go out there and kill it?”
You smile, giving a nod and a quick kiss before walking out hand in hand, with the one woman who could, of course, calm you down after an episode like that.
