#mamamoo memory

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Moderato by Mamamoo Wheein feat. Hash Swan is such an underrated song.

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Décalcomanie

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Chanteuse

Fandom: Mamamoo Pairing: Wheesa (Wheein/Hyejin) Rating: T Word Count: 1085 Tags: Singer AU, flirting, fluff, implied sexual themes Summary: Hyejin is a popular singer in an old timey bar Wheein happened to stop by at. Alternatively, Hyejin gets Wheein hot.  A/N: In this AU, Hyejin is aged up. She's 29. Wheein is her actual age, 21. There's a 8 year age gap. Inspired by this amazing fanart. 

(gif by vitunkpoppi)

Beauty personified. Talent personified. An actual goddess on stage illuminated by warm lights on her high stage. That was the woman they called Hwasa.

Apparently she was a big deal here in the Big Apple. A pretty foreign woman with curves for days who could channel the spirits of 1940s American glamour girls through the honey-rich texture of her voice. Men always flocked towards the exotic girl, so her rise to fame was a mystery to no one. She sold out local venues, and when given the opportunity to advance to grander venues, she denied, claiming the quaintness was part of her charm, her allure.

Funny thing was that she never cared too much for men, or at least not in that way. They were confident in their egos and brutish even in designer suits, but she never found herself drawn to their roughness. Their promises of extravagant living with endless money only further proved their foolishness. See, the woman they called Hwasa may’ve sang a siren song for men, but she was a straight up ladykiller.

She had a penchant for seducing straight women. Hell, she had a penchant for seducing any woman. With her silky voice and her sultry stage mannerisms, she exuded a sexual vibrancy that shook every woman to her very core. Charisma wasn’t a strong enough word to convey her abilities. She stole a kiss from many a woman, sometimes more, and thus inadvertently scandalized marriages with accusations of infidelity and secrecy. Interestingly, the women she embraced always returned to watch her sing up on that neon-lit stage with crimson-painted lips and scanty dresses.

They wanted more. Who could blame them?

When Wheein moved to New York, she came with empty pockets and a big dream. One day she’d be up on Broadway dancing and singing and acting. She grew up admiring the raw talent of live stage performers. Her mother told her if she could make it to Broadway, she could do anything. So, sending her daughter off with tears in her eyes, she watched fondly as Wheein hopped on a plane from Korea to America to follow her dreams.

However, the bustling city was not kind to her. Traffic and aggressive people and expensive rent and lots of other starlings looking to make their big break. Wheein had never known competition to be so ruthless. Gone were the days of lighthearted ambitions and the support of her peers. Dejected, she wandered about the underground music scene. Upon a stranger’s recommendation, she stumbled into the old timey bar Hwasa sang at.

It was small, but the bar was full and the place was popping. There was a billiard’s table amongst the high-tops with lots of people nestled in between. There wasn’t a jukebox, only a stage with a warm glow. After ordering herself a Manhattan with extra cherries, Wheein found a seat in the very front row. What luck! A robust man in a three piece suit padded across the stage, picked up the mic, and introduced a woman Wheein had definitely heard of before: Hwasa.

The stage lit up, not from the lights but from her very presence. Hwasa wore a floor length, cream colored gown riddled with thousands of opalescent sequins. If one were to look closely (and it was very likely they would), they’d see the gown was actually very sheer. She wore a set of lacy lingerie that matched her skin tone - a simple bra and high-waisted shapewear. She had chin-length sapphire blue hair curled in a way reminiscent of Elizabeth Taylor. She was breathtaking. And when she set her sights on Wheein in the front row of her show, she knew she had to have her.

And she did. After the show, the woman they called Hwasa invited Wheein back to her dressing room. Wheein tried to refrain from looking when Hwasa slipped the shimmery, sheer gown up over her head; she especially tried not to look as the blue haired woman trotted around the dressing room in nothing but lingerie and four inch stilettos.

With a plum-painted smirk, Hwasa popped a bottle of merlot open and poured Wheein and herself a glass. She offered the libation to Wheein, who graciously accepted, albeit shy and with a tinge of pink across her features. Hwasa plopped down in her chair and leaned back relaxed as she crossed her legs. She tilted her head as she observed Wheein’s rigid, nervous posture.

“Relax. I won’t bite unless you ask me to,” Hwasa cooed, which caused Wheein to stiffen more. “My name is Hyejin, by the way. You can call me by either name, but it’d make me feel special if you called me by my real name.” She winked then took a sip of wine.

“Hyejin,” Wheein said, the name rolling off her tongue flawlessly in its proper Korean pronunciation. She grinned despite herself. She felt kind of silly being so bashful around this beautiful woman. A woman of twenty-one years shy around another woman. What were these feelings?

“Mm, you’re Korean too?” Hyejin asked in their native language, and Wheein nodded. “What brought you to New York City?” She took another sip of merlot as she tapped her indigo nails on the side table to her left.

Wheein gulped a few sips of wine. The dark color stained her lips slightly. “I, um, I want to be on Broadway,” she replied.

“Why are you so nervous?” Hyejin asked. She leaned forward and reached out to touch Wheein’s knee reassuringly. “Come to think of it, you never told me your name,” she continued as she gently squeezed the other woman’s knee. Wheein swallowed the lump in her throat; Hyejin’s touch was tender.

“Wheein. My name is Wheein,” she said as Hyejin cautiously slid her hand up Wheein’s thigh. It started as an honest gesture, really, just to comfort the shy girl, but Hyejin never anticipated the smoothness of her legs. She couldn’t stop herself, she wanted to feel more. Wheein turned away from Hyejin’s touch and shifted awkwardly in her seat. When Hyejin went to apologize, Wheein spoke up, “Ah, I’m sorry. You’re just so gorgeous. If you continue, I’ll want more…”

Hyejin smirked, “Are you a virgin, Wheein?”

Wheein looked away, gripping onto the swell of her wineglass with both hands. “What would you do if I said yes?”

“What would you like me to do?” Hyejin countered.

Her voice a whisper, Wheein slowly turned to meet Hyejin’s gaze. “I’d like you to change that…”

[hyrulia]

Listening to Décalcomanie like

knock knock i’m gay 

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New York Living

Fandom: Mamamoo Pairing: Wheein/Hyejin (WheeSa) Rating: G Word Count: 617 Tags: Domestic, fluff Summary: It was rare for them to get days like this. A/N: Self-indulgent. Their Memory album’s got me feeling all types of ways~

Crisp white linens enveloped the queen sized mattress on the floor (they spent all their savings on rent, food, and gas money, so they couldn’t quite afford a bed frame); plush pillows of various shapes and sizes were scattered about the cushiony expanse, casting the illusion of a cheap, New York style harem bed. There were blankets, too, some velvety, some cottony, all soft and large and warm. The bed was nestled in the corner of their studio apartment, just between the large window and an old, wallpapered wall.

Vinyl records were strewn on the surrounding carpet. Some still housed safely in their sleeves, others bear to the world on the floor. Classics mixed with modern. Instrumental mixed with spoken word. Music crackled from an old school turntable Hyejin’s grandfather gave her: it was an authentic record player from the late 1970s. The sound quality wasn’t spectacular, but it evoked a comforting nostalgia every time Hyejin played a record.

Wheein was laying on her back, feet crossed at the ankles, as she simply listened to the music. She squinted just slightly when she watched the birds outside playing on the powerline - the sunshine was bright but she welcomed its magnificence. Flecks of dust twinkled in the morning glow that peeped in from between the window blinds. She recalled reading something about untranslatable words, and how there was an actual word for that very phenomenon. She cursed herself for not remembering what it was called.

“Can you flip it?” Hyejin asked as she tapped the end of her green pen on the notebook below. She was laying on her stomach, fuzzy sock-clad feet up in the air, as she scribbled in her journal. Her blue hair was done up in a high ponytail, but stray strands fell into her face as she wrote.

“Hm?” Wheein turned to look at Hyejin. It took approximately 10 seconds to realize the record player wasn’t producing sound. Had she been that enchanted by the birds and the sunlight? “Oh, yeah.”

Wheein flipped the vinyl to side B. This was her favorite side because it had her favorite song. If she were alone, she’d pick up the needle and skip directly to the song, but she knew Hyejin was the type to listen to an album in full and in order. She said an album was meant to be listened to in this way because that was what the artist intended, that every album had a theme and a story. Wheein didn’t really have an argument for that.

When the music started up again, Wheein flopped onto the bed beside Hyejin. The bed dipped at the sudden weight but quickly reshaped to accommodate her. Her honey-brown locks splayed out around her like a mermaid. Her loose t-shirt rode up her stomach just a bit, and Hyejin only realized it when she shifted her elbows to get more comfortable. She leaned over to press an innocent kiss on Wheein’s exposed hipbone, meriting a surprised giggle from her.

Wheein affectionately tucked Hyejin’s bangs behind the shell of her ear. “I’m happy,” she stated as she rolled over to her side. Her voice sounded like a smile, like the very sunshine outside, and like the birds playing and chirping on the powerlines.

Hyejin dropped the pen on her notebook to lean into Wheein; their foreheads touched briefly before she kissed the tip of Wheein’s nose. “Me too~”

Their new life in New York City, thousands of miles away from home… it was a lot to digest. They didn’t get a lot of opportunities to relax together anymore.

It was rare for them to get days like this. They were going to cherish every moment of it.

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Hwasa from Mamamoo! ^.^

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Mamamoo Wallpapers 2/2

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