Summary: It was supposed to be a simple transaction: go backstage, survive meeting TWICE, and get your favorite yakuza-cat t-shirt back. But when a flash of jealousy causes Sana to pull you into a private room, you quickly realize you are completely and utterly at her mercy. The final chapter of the Madrid meet-cute.
Sana closed the door behind us with a definitive, solid click.
The sudden quiet of the small dressing room was absolutely deafening. It was a cozy, dimly lit space, far removed from the buzzing, chaotic energy of the main green room we had just fled. There was a leather couch pushed against one wall, a brightly lit makeup vanity, and a rolling rack of clothes. But the moment the lock engaged, all of those details completely faded into the background.
This was entirely different from bumping into her at the bustling , and it was lightyears away from surviving the playful teasing of Nayeon and Dahyun just moments ago.
Now, I was alone.
Literally, physically alone in a closed room with Minatozaki Sana.
Madre mía...
She was standing a few feet away from me, her hands clasped loosely in front of her. She looked up, her dark eyes darting across my face. Without the other members around, the fierce, territorial energy she had radiated in the hallway seemed to evaporate completely. She looked down, her fingers playing nervously with the hem of the oversized yakuza cat t-shirt, twisting the black cotton. She seemed suddenly shy, but there was something else swirling in her gaze that I couldn't quite decipher.
Anticipation? Nervousness?
The silence was thick, heavy, and absolutely killing me. What was she thinking? Why had she dragged me in here, away from everyone else?
"So..." I started, my voice cracking embarrassingly. I cleared my throat, trying desperately to sound casual as I pointed at the black fabric she was wearing. "The shirt... you really like it, eh? You're still wearing it."
Sana looked down at the orange tabby cat on her chest, a soft, pretty blush returning to her cheeks, "Yeah..." she said quietly.
"It's comfy, right?" I offered, letting out a nervous, breathless laugh that sounded entirely too loud to my own ears.
"Really comfy," she agreed, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through her shyness.
She moved from her spot by the door, the oversized fabric swishing around her thighs, and walked over to the small leather couch. She sat down and patted the empty cushion next to her.
But I stood my ground, my sneakers glued to the floor and my hands jammed deep into my pockets to hide how much they were trembling.
"You can keep it, Sana," I offered gently.
She stopped patting the cushion and looked up at me, a delicate eyebrow raising. We’d had this exact conversation over text, and yet here we were, standing in an empty room deep in the bowels of the WiZink Center because she had insisted on giving it back. Or... did she want something else?
Her intense, unwavering gaze was making my knees feel dangerously weak.
"Really.” I added, suddenly feeling very exposed under her intense, unwavering gaze. "Take it as a souvenir from Spain."
"Come. Sit," she commanded softly, ignoring my offer entirely.
My legs moved on pure autopilot. I swallowed hard and walked over to the couch, sitting down next to her but deliberately leaving a polite, respectful gap of space between us. I was terrified of overstepping.
Sana looked down at the empty cushion separating us, her brow furrowing in a cute, displeased little frown. Without a single word, she scooted over, completely erasing the gap until her thigh was pressed warmly and firmly against mine.
The contact sent a jolt of electricity straight up my spine, and my breath hitched audibly. I could smell her perfume—sweet, floral, and intoxicatingly close.
"I give back shirt," she announced, looking up at me through her lashes.
"O-okay," I stammered, my heart rate spiking to a dangerous level. "I'll just... wait out in the hall while you go change."
I made a move to stand, but Sana tilted her head, her dark eyes suddenly sparkling with a dangerous, unmistakable mischief. She slowly shook her head and shifted her body, turning fully toward me on the couch.
"No?" I swallowed hard. The absolute, suffocating proximity of her was frying my nerves, and her actions were thoroughly confusing me.
"I can do it here," she said, her voice dropping an octave, sounding entirely too casual for what she was suggesting.
"Here?" My voice cracked, jumping an entire octave.
She nodded, a slow, playful smile spreading across her face.
Holy shit.
What was happening? Was she really going to change right in front of me? Was I dreaming? Did I pass out from heatstroke in the VIP pit, and this was just my dying brain projecting my deepest, most absurd fantasies in my final moments? This made absolutely zero logical sense.
Sana leaned in just a fraction closer, invading my personal space in the best way possible.
"Help me?" she asked, her voice dropping to a soft, innocent sweet whisper.
My eyes went wide enough to fall out of my skull. Did I hear that right? Did she just ask me to help her... remove her shirt? What?! Okay, I was definitely dreaming. Things like this didn't happen in real life, and they certainly didn't happen to normal, boring people like me.
"Y/N? You okay?" she asked, her voice laced with deep, unmistakable amusement. A soft giggle escaped her lips. She was enjoying my internal meltdown way too much.
"You… want me… to help you?" I stammered, my brain struggling to form a coherent thought.
"Can you?" she challenged softly, her eyes dropping to my lips for a split second before flicking back up.
"Can I?" I repeated in absolute, breathless disbelief.
At my panicked echoing, Sana’s playful demeanor shifted. The teasing glint in her eyes faded into something much more sincere, much more vulnerable. She searched my face, her dark eyes scanning mine as if trying to read the truth written beneath my panic. My constant stuttering and attempts to give her space must have made her second-guess herself.
"Y/N..." she started, her voice dropping its teasing edge, replaced by a sudden hint of insecurity. "You like me, right?"
My brain completely short-circuited. I couldn't even form the English words to reply, so I just nodded frantically. Like you? I just flew across the country for you. I gave you my favorite shirt. I’m currently having a heart attack on this couch because of you.
A wave of profound, beautiful relief washed over her features. Her eyes softened, and a breathtaking, radiant smile spread across her face.
"Good..." she breathed out happily, her shoulders relaxing. "I like you too."
Sana liked ME? For real?
Nah. No way. This had to be a joke. The imposter syndrome hit me like a freight train. I looked frantically around the small room, my eyes darting to the ceiling corners, scanning the edges of the makeup mirror, checking between the clothing racks.
Sana blinked, confused by my sudden erratic movement. "What you doing?"
"Is there a camera recording?" I rambled, my Spanish accent bleeding heavily into my rapid English.
"Camera?" Sana frowned, looking around the room with me. "Why camera here?"
"Because this isn't real!" I said, running a shaky hand through my hair. "Sana, you... you can't actually be doing this. This is a prank, right? Is this for a hidden camera show? Time to Twice?"
Sana’s expression softened completely. The confusion melted into a look of deep, overwhelming fondness. She reached out, her small, incredibly soft hands gently wrapping around my wrists. She slowly pulled my restless, trembling hands down, resting them firmly in my own lap to ground me.
"What? No" she laughed, shaking her head, her thumbs drawing soothing circles against my pulse points. "No prank. Real."
I looked at our joined hands, then slowly looked back up into her warm brown eyes.
"Sana… you really... you like me?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
She nodded, her gaze never wavering from mine.
And then, before my brain could even begin to process the fact that the girl of my dreams had just confessed to me, she let go of my wrists. She stood up, her hands coming down to rest on my shoulders.
With a smooth, deliberate grace, she swung her leg over my lap and lowered herself down, smoothly straddling my thighs.
My back hit the cushions of the couch with a soft thud. I turned into a statue. I completely, utterly froze.
I had Minatozaki Sana sitting on my lap.
Her knees were pressed firmly into the cushions on either side of my thighs, effectively pinning me in place. The physical reality of her was absolute sensory overload. I could feel the solid, grounding weight of her, the heat radiating through the thick fabric of her sweatpants, and the intoxicating scent of her floral perfume mixed with the lingering, electric adrenaline of her three-hour concert.
My hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a second before I nervously set them down on the couch cushions, terrified to touch her without permission.
What the fuck do I do now?
Sana looked down at me, her lips jutting out into that familiar, lethal pout. "I no like Nayeon make you red," she mumbled, her fingers playing lightly, almost nervously, with the collar of my shirt.
I blinked up at her, my brain struggling to process the visual. So, she was jealous back there. She really didn’t like how Nayeon was making me blush. And Dios mío, she looked so incredibly adorable hovering over me like that, swallowed up in my oversized t-shirt, acting territorial over a random fan from Spain.
"Were you jealous?" I asked, a tiny, disbelieving smile finally breaking through my paralyzing shock.
"Only me can do it," she declared stubbornly, her pout deepening as she narrowed her eyes at me.
"Only you?"
She nodded solemnly. Then, she uncurled her fingers from my collar and brought her hands up, resting her soft, warm palms against the sides of my neck. Her thumbs lightly brushed along my jawline, tracing the bone. A violent shiver ran straight down my spine at the delicate touch.
"뽀뽀?" (Bbo-bbo?) she asked softly in Korean, her voice dropping into a velvety, questioning hum.
I knew that word. Every K-pop fan alive knew that word.
"You want... a bbo-bbo?" I whispered, my voice trembling, needing to make absolutely sure my oxygen-deprived brain wasn't inventing things to torture me.
She nodded again, her gaze dropping pointedly to my lips. She leaned in, closing the distance slowly, until I could feel her warm, sweet breath ghosting across my mouth.
Is this real life? Am I really about to kiss Minatozaki Sana?
Any lingering hesitation evaporated, burned away by the sheer proximity of her. I couldn't hold back anymore. My hands, trembling slightly from the adrenaline, finally lifted from the couch cushions and came to rest on her waist. I gripped the soft, black cotton of the shirt, tilted my head up, and closed the final millimeter between us.
When our lips met, it wasn't just a spark; it was a full-blown fireworks display that short-circuited my entire nervous system.
Her lips were incredibly soft, tasting faintly of cherry lip gloss and the lingering sweetness of stage drinks. It started exactly as she asked—a gentle, innocent, hesitant peck. A true, fluffy bbo-bbo.
But the moment I pressed back, tilting my head to kiss her in earnest, a soft, helpless sigh escaped her throat, vibrating directly against my lips.
The kiss immediately deepened, and the innocent vibe of the moment completely shattered, giving way to a sudden, intense heat that made my head spin.
Sana's hands slid from my neck, her fingers tangling fiercely in the hair at the nape of my neck. She pulled me up, flush against her chest, erasing whatever tiny gap was left between us. I melted into the embrace, completely surrendering to the feeling of her mouth moving perfectly, desperately in sync with mine. It was sweet, breathtaking, and entirely overwhelming.
I don't know how long we kissed, lost in a haze of tasting each other, but soon, it wasn't enough. Sana shifted on my lap. She let out a frustrated, muffled little noise into my mouth, her knees digging deeper into the cushions as she rolled her hips down, pressing directly against mine.
The sudden friction sent a shockwave of pure electricity straight to my core.
The feeling of her grinding against me completely short-circuited whatever rational thought I had left. The heavy cotton of her sweatpants rubbing against my jeans was agonizingly good. My hands tightened on her waist, and without thinking, they slid lower, resting firmly on her hips. I guided her movements, pressing her down gently against me to give her the friction she was silently asking for.
A sharp, needy gasp left her lips, and she broke the kiss, throwing her head back to catch her breath, her chest heaving against mine.
Taking advantage of the new angle, I trailed my lips down her jawline, my mouth finding the soft, exposed, flushed skin of her neck. She smelled like sweat, vanilla, and pure adrenaline. I kissed and bit softly at the column of her throat, sucking gently on the pulse point, drawing out a shuddering breath from her, but I was incredibly careful not to leave a mark. The last thing I wanted was for her stylists to have a heart attack trying to cover up a hickey tomorrow morning.
Little, breathless whines left Sana’s lips, her head falling back to give me more access. She arched her back beautifully, leaning into my touch as her fingers tightened their grip in my hair, silently begging me not to stop. The vibrations of her soft moans against my lips were driving me insane.
Her hips rolled against me again, a slow, agonizing grind that made a low, guttural groan vibrate in my own chest.
She was enjoying this. Really enjoying this. And a dizzying, intoxicating surge of pride rushed through my veins. I was doing this. I was making Minatozaki Sana fall apart in an empty dressing room in Madrid.
Suddenly, her right hand grabbed the back of my head. Her fingers threaded tightly through my hair as she pulled me away from her neck and back up to her level. She crashed her lips onto mine again, deeper and far more demanding this time. She kissed me like she was starving, our teeth clashing briefly before her tongue swiped slickly against my lower lip, asking for entrance. I granted it instantly, opening up to her as a desperate, heavy groan vibrated in my own chest as our tongues met.
The kiss turned wet, messy, and fiercely passionate, our tongues tangling together as her hips picked up the pace, grinding down on me with a desperate, rhythmic friction that had me seeing stars. I squeezed her thighs, trying to hold on for dear life.
She was so incredibly warm, and she was entirely in control. She let go of my hair with one hand, reaching down to grab my hand and dragged it upward, sliding it over her ribs, before pressing my palm firmly against her breast right through the thick cotton of the yakuza cat shirt.
I groaned loudly into her mouth, my brain completely shorting out. My fingers curled instinctively, my thumb brushing over the swell of her chest. I could feel the intense heat radiating from her skin beneath the fabric, feel the frantic, rabbit-fast thud of her heart against my palm. From the way she was clutching my shoulders, the way she whimpered into the kiss, and the increasingly desperate, erratic rhythm of her hips grinding against me, it was clear she wanted more. She wanted to go further.
And God, I wanted it too. I wanted to stay in this room until the sun came up.
But sanity, cruel and unforgiving, came crashing back into my brain like a bucket of ice water.
We were in an unlocked backstage dressing room. In a public arena. Her manager, her bandmates, the security guards, and dozens of crew members were literally just down the hall. Anyone could open that door at any second.
Fighting every single primal instinct in my body, I forced myself to slow the rhythm of the kiss, pulling back just a fraction. I stopped my hand’s dangerous exploration on her chest, moving it back down to gently squeeze her waist, slowing the frantic grinding of her hips and grounding us both back in reality.
Sana chased my lips for a second, letting out a frustrated whine, before she too seemed to slowly, reluctantly float back down to earth.
We pulled away from each other, both breathing heavily, our chests heaving as we tried to suck oxygen back into our lungs. The sound of our ragged breathing echoed loudly in the small, quiet room. We rested our foreheads together, eyes closed, our noses brushing as we just rode out the intense, adrenaline-fueled high.
After a long moment, Sana opened her eyes, looking down at me through her lashes. They were dark, heavy-lidded, and incredibly beautiful. Her lipstick was completely ruined, and a slow, triumphant smirk spread across her swollen, kiss-bitten lips.
"You are red," she pointed out softly, her thumb reaching up to brush tenderly over my burning cheek.
I let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, letting my head fall back against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "You are lethal, you know that?"
She just giggled, a bright, bubbly, innocent sound that completely contrasted the fiery, demanding woman who had just been grinding against my lap. It gave me absolute whiplash. How could she go from being an absolute menace to the cutest person on earth in a matter of three seconds?
Then, true to her word, her hands dropped from my face and grasped the hem of the black t-shirt.
My eyes went wide, and I instantly squeezed them shut, whipping my head to the side. My gentlemanly instincts kicking into overdrive. "Sana, wait—"
I heard her laugh, loud and clear. "You can look, Y/N." she chimed, highly amused by my panicked modesty.
I cracked one eye open cautiously. She had pulled the t-shirt over her head, but instead of bare skin, she was wearing a simple, tight black tank top underneath. She hadn't been naked under there at all. She smoothed down the fabric of her tank top, her brown eyes twinkling with absolute mischief. She neatly folded the oversized yakuza cat shirt and placed it onto my chest, a triumphant, incredibly smug smirk painting her face.
"Promise is promise," she said, her voice dripping with playful satisfaction.
I let out a long, defeated groan, dropping my head back against the couch again, clutching the folded shirt to my chest.
She has played me. She had played me so incredibly well.
Suddenly, three loud, sharp knocks hammered against heavy metal door, making us both jump.
"Sana-ya! We're leaving in five!" Jihyo's muffled, authoritative voice echoed from the hallway. "Hurry up!"
The beautiful, insulated bubble we had built around ourselves popped instantly. Reality came crashing back down, heavy, cold, and undeniable. The concert was over. The tour was moving on. They had to go back to their luxury hotel, board a flight to their next country, and return to their chaotic idol lives. And I had to walk out of this arena, get on a bus, and go back to my normal, quiet life in Spain.
Sana let out a frustrated little sigh, her shoulders dropping. She looked down at me, her lips pushing out into a genuine, disappointed pout.
She reluctantly climbed off my lap, the sudden loss of her weight and the rush of the air conditioning hitting the spots where our bodies had just been pressed together left me feeling instantly, achingly cold.
She took a second to smooth down her black tank top, running a hand through her slightly messy hair, effortlessly slipping back into her polished idol persona. But when she turned back to me, her eyes were still incredibly soft. She stepped closer, reaching out to gently fix my disheveled collar and run her fingers through my messy hair. It was a tender, intimate, lingering gesture that made my chest ache. She offered me her hands, her fingers wrapping securely around mine, and pulled me up from the couch.
"I have to go," she said softly, her voice carrying a genuine note of sadness.
Her eyes dropped to the pocket of my jeans where my phone was safely tucked away. She looked back up, her gaze earnest, vulnerable, and just a little bit pleading. It was crazy to think that a global superstar was standing in front of me, genuinely worried that I might disappear.
"You text me on Kakao?" she asked, her voice quiet, as if she was genuinely afraid I might just disappear into the crowd and never speak to her again.
"Of course," I said quickly, without a single second of hesitation. I clutched my neatly folded t-shirt like it was a priceless artifact. "Every day. If you want me to. I'll probably annoy you."
Sana’s face lit up. It was like watching a breathtaking sunrise; a radiant, brilliant smile that reached all the way to her eyes. "Yes," she demanded softly, her eyes curving into happy half-moons. "Every day. Annoy me."
She didn't let go of my hand. She walked me toward the heavy door, her fingers interlaced perfectly with mine, giving my hand one last, tight, lingering squeeze. She rested her hand on the doorknob, pausing for just a second.
Before she turned the handle and let the rest of the world back in, she leaned up on her tiptoes. She pressed a quick, lightning-fast kiss to my lips. A sweet, desperate little promise of everything we hadn't had time for.
"Bye, Y/N," she whispered against my mouth, her eyes shining brightly in the dim light.
"Bye, Sana," I managed to say, my heart soaring so high I felt like my feet weren't even touching the floor. "Safe travels."
She opened the door, the noise of the busy hallway instantly flooding the room. She flashed me one last beautiful, secretive smile over her shoulder before slipping out into the hallway to join her members down the corridor.
I stood there alone in the dressing room for a few seconds, clutching my favorite t-shirt, listening to the melodic sound of her fading laughter echoing down the hall as she reunited with the girls.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I finally stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind me. The same Korean staff member from earlier was waiting nearby, giving me a polite nod before silently escorting me through the labyrinth of the backstage area and toward the exits.
I walked through the empty, concrete corridors of the WiZink Center. The contrast was staggering. Just hours ago, this place had been vibrating with the screams of fifteen thousand people, the bass shaking the floorboards. Now, it was just the hollow sounds of crew members dismantling the stage.
The staff member pushed open a heavy side door, and I stepped out into the cool, refreshing Madrid night. The sudden rush of fresh air cleared the haze from my brain.
I stopped on the sidewalk under the glow of a streetlamp, taking a moment to just breathe. The adrenaline was finally starting to fade, leaving behind a profound, buzzing sense of awe. I looked down at the folded black t-shirt in my hands. The angry orange yakuza cat stared fiercely back up at me. I lifted it slightly. It didn't smell like my laundry detergent anymore. It smelled distinctly of Sana; that sweet, intoxicating mix of floral perfume and vanilla.
I looked up at the dark Spanish sky, the distant chatter of lingering fans and the hum of the city traffic washing over me, and a massive, foolish, unstoppable grin broke across my face. I had come to Madrid expecting to lose my voice at a concert. I never expected to lose my heart to Minatozaki Sana.
Summary: You thought the airport encounter was just a surreal dream, until Sana posts a selfie in your shirt. A few flirty KakaoTalk messages later, you find yourself with VIP backstage access to the Madrid concert. Just be warned: letting Im Nayeon flirt with you has unforeseen, highly territorial consequences.
The Madrid sun streaming through the thin curtains of my budget hotel room was obnoxiously bright. I groaned, throwing an arm over my eyes, the stiff hotel sheets tangling around my legs.
For a few blissful seconds of half-sleep, my brain was quiet.
Then, the memories of yesterday hit me like a high-speed train.
The airport. The vending machine. The spilled soda. Minatozaki Sana.
I bolted upright in bed, my heart instantly kicking into overdrive. "No way," I muttered to the empty room. "That was a dream. It had to be a dream." It was the only logical explanation. My sleep-deprived brain had simply hallucinated the entire encounter because I was so excited for the concert. There was no way I had bumped into Minatozaki Sana at Barajas Airport, given her my clothes, and ended up with her KakaoTalk. Things like that just didn't happen to normal people who had to save up for months just to afford a plane ticket across Spain and a cheap hotel in the capital.
I rolled over, grabbing my phone off the nightstand. Out of pure muscle memory, I opened Instagram, ready to do my usual morning scroll.
The very first post on my feed was from a K-pop news account. "TWICE arrives safely in Madrid for their world tour!"
I swiped through the carousel of paparazzi photos. Jihyo looking flawless, Nayeon waving at fans, Mina looking like a CEO... and then, the fourth slide.
I stopped breathing.
There she was. Sana, walking toward the VIP vans, her bucket hat pulled low, but her face was clearly visible, sporting a bright, radiant smile as she was waving at the screaming fans.
And she was wearing it.
The oversized, pitch-black t-shirt. The menacing orange tabby cat glaring angrily at the Spanish paparazzi, a katana clenched fiercely in its teeth, its koi fish tattoos swimming down her thighs.
Madre mía.
The phone slipped out of my hand and smacked me right on the bridge of my nose. "¡Joder!" I hissed, scrambling to catch it as it tumbled onto the sheets.
My hands were actually shaking. It wasn't a dream. I really did spill a drink on Minatozaki Sana. I really did give her my clothes.
I swallowed hard and tapped the search bar, typing in Sana’s personal Instagram account. Her official profile loaded, and there, sitting right at the top of her grid, was a brand new post uploaded just a few hours ago.
It was the selfie she had sent me on KakaoTalk, along with two other photos of her posing in her hotel room. In one of them, she had her hair tied up in a messy bun, doing a cute peace sign with a bright, eye-crinkling smile, the collar of my yakuza-cat shirt slipping slightly off one shoulder, exposing her collarbone.
The caption read: Arrived safely in Madrid! 🇪🇸 Thanks for the warm welcome (and the cool shirt!) 🐱⚔️🤍
I stared at the screen for a solid two minutes, my mouth hanging open. She had literally posted my favorite shirt to her nearly eleven million followers. The post already had hundreds of thousands of likes and thousands of comments from confused and delighted fans asking where she got such an uncharacteristically edgy shirt.
Before my brain could tell me it was a terrible idea, my fingers were typing. I didn't want to expose the whole airport fiasco to millions of fans, but I couldn't just say nothing.
I scrolled down to the comment box and typed: Love the shirt.
I hit post. It would get buried under fifty thousand other comments in three seconds anyway.
But seeing her post made my fingers itch. I exited Instagram and opened KakaoTalk. The cherry blossom emoji was sitting right there at the top of my chat list. I tapped it open, reading our brief exchange from yesterday.
I stared at the blinking cursor. Play it cool, I told myself. Don't be weird.
[🐯]: You really like the shirt, eh?
I hit send and immediately tossed the phone to the other side of the bed as if it had caught fire. I scrambled out of bed and walked to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, mentally preparing myself to wait hours—or maybe days—for a reply. She was an idol on tour. She was probably doing soundchecks or sleeping.
Bzzzt.
I sprinted back into the bedroom and dove onto the mattress, grabbing my phone.
[🌸]: I like the owner more.
I dropped my phone.
It literally slipped out of my sweaty hands and clattered onto the hotel floor.
I stared down at it, my brain completely short-circuiting. What the...? Did I read that correctly? I picked it up again, squinting at the screen. I like the owner more.
Did Minatozaki Sana just say that? Was she flirting with me? No, no way. I'm just a normal, broke person from Spain who can barely afford a hostel in Madrid. She’s a global superstar. Maybe it was a translation error? Maybe it was a Korean phrase that sounded weird in English?
Nah... maybe...?
How do you even answer that? My fingers hovered over the keyboard, typing and deleting five different responses. 'Haha thanks' (Too boring). 'I like you too' (Too creepy). 'Are you flirting with me?' (Too bold!). I was officially freaking out.
Before I could construct a coherent sentence, my phone buzzed again in my hands.
[🌸]: Too forward? Did I scare you?
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Okay, she knew exactly what she was saying.
[🐯]: Sorry. I didn’t expect it. My brain kind of stopped working for a second.
[🌸]: It’s ok ㅋㅋㅋ. I see you tomorrow?
My heart did a violent flip. She still wanted to see me.
[🐯]: Well… I’m gonna see YOU, but I don’t know if you’re gonna see me in the crowd. There are going to be thousands of people there.
[🌸]: Don’t worry, me take care of it.
I frowned, a mix of disbelief and guilt washing over me. It was insanely sweet, but she was a superstar. The logistics of this were impossible, and I didn't want her stressing out over a piece of cotton.
[🐯]: Sana, really, you don’t have to give me the shirt back, you can keep it.
There was a pause. The typing dots bounced, disappeared, and then bounced again.
[🌸]: You not want to see me? 🥺
I physically winced at the sad emoji. Even through a screen, her pout was a weapon of mass destruction.
[🐯]: I’m gonna see you. That’s why I’m going to the concert.
[🌸]: No Y/n… See me alone, you not want to?
I stared at the ceiling. See me alone. Why? Why did she want to see me again? I wasn't anyone special. I was just a tired Spanish fan who happened to have a spare t-shirt and terrible coordination around vending machines. But looking at the screen, the sincerity in her broken English was undeniable.
[🐯]: Do you want to?
[🌸]: I not ask you if I not want to, right?
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. She had a point.
[🐯]: Right…
I was pacing the room now, biting my thumbnail. Sana wanted to see me again. But why? Because I gave her a shirt? Because I didn't act like a screaming fan? Because I winked at her like an idiot? What was I supposed to do with this information?
Of course I wanted to see Sana again. Who wouldn’t? But this felt dangerous. This felt like stepping off a cliff without checking if there was water at the bottom.
My phone buzzed, pulling me from my spiral.
[🌸]: So? You want to see me or not?
[🐯]: Yes?
[🌸]: You asking? Not sure?
[🐯]: Sorry, I’m nervous. Yes, I want to see you.
The little "read" indicator appeared. A few agonizing seconds passed.
[🌸]: Why nervous? It’s just me.
[🐯]: Yeah… just you. That’s why.
I imagined her sitting in her luxurious hotel suite somewhere in Madrid, looking at her phone. I wondered if she was blushing, or if she was just smiling that devastating, playful smile of hers.
[🌸]: I make you nervous? 🤭
I could practically hear her giggling. She knew exactly what she was doing. The shy, blushing girl from the airport corridor was gone, replaced by the lethal, teasing idol who knew exactly how much power she held.
[🐯]: So, tomorrow. Concert. How you plan to meet each other?
[🌸]: I talk to manager later. Tomorrow I sent you what to do.
I stared at the message. She was actually going to arrange this. She was going to talk to her manager to sneak a random fan into the backstage of the WiZink Center. It was insane. It was straight out of a fanfiction.
I locked my phone and dropped my head back against the headboard, letting out a long, shaky exhale. The Madrid morning sun was fully illuminating my room now.
I had spent months saving up for this trip. The plane ticket from Asturias, the hotel, the VIP concert ticket—it had cost a fortune. I had expected to stand at the barricade, wave my Candybong, and maybe, if I was incredibly lucky, get a wave back from the stage.
I never, in a million years, expected to be counting down the hours until I met Minatozaki Sana backstage.
Madre mía, I thought, a helpless smile spreading across my face. I was in so much trouble.
I spent the rest of the day wandering around Madrid in an absolute daze. I walked through El Retiro park, ate a calamari sandwich near Plaza Mayor, and strolled down Gran Vía, but I wasn't really seeing any of it. Every five minutes, I checked my phone, half-expecting a message saying it was all a joke. But the cherry blossom emoji sat at the top of my chat list, a silent, vibrating promise.
Tomorrow, I was going to a TWICE concert.
And tomorrow, I was going to see Minatozaki Sana. Alone.
▬
I woke up the next morning before my alarm even had a chance to ring. The sunlight streaming through the hotel window felt different today. The air felt charged, humming with an electric kind of anxiety that made my stomach do flips.
I reached blindly for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up, and there it was.
[🌸]: Good morning! 😊
[🌸]: When enter the venue, go talk to a staff member near the band. He tell you what to do after concert ;)
I stared at the screen, reading the messages over and over until the words started to blur.
Holy shit.
She really did it. She actually pulled the strings.
She could have easily just handed the shirt to a manager and told them to drop it off at the VIP barricade, but no... she wanted to do it herself. She wanted to see me. I squeezed my eyes shut, a nervous, breathy laugh escaping my lips.
I was so fucking nervous I felt nauseous.
Getting ready felt like an out-of-body experience. I stood in front of the tiny bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection with a toothbrush hanging out of my mouth. What do you even wear to meet the girl of your dreams backstage? Do I wear TWICE merch? No, that felt too fan-ish if I was going backstage. Do I dress up? No, I'll sweat to death in the pit. I finally settled on a cool, casual streetwear look that I hoped made me look like I had my life together.
As I rode the metro toward the WiZink Center, my brain went into overdrive, making up a hundred different scenarios of how the meeting would go. What would happen once we saw each other again? Do we hug? Is that allowed, or will a bodyguard tackle me? Is it going to be incredibly awkward? What if she realized I was just a boring, normal person and lost interest immediately? What do you even talk about with an idol in a private room? My palms were sweating just thinking about it.
By the time I arrived at the venue, the area was already buzzing. The energy of the ONCEs waiting outside was infectious. People were handing out free photocards, dancing to Twice songs blasting from portable speakers, and complimenting each other's outfits. For a couple of hours, I almost forgot my impending panic attack as I mingled and made friends with the people in the VIP line. I just let myself be a fan.
When the doors finally opened for the VIP soundcheck, I practically ran to secure a spot near the barricade. Remembering Sana's instructions, I scanned the stage area. Sure enough, standing near the band's equipment was a Korean staff member holding a clipboard.
I caught his eye and gave a small, hesitant wave. He walked over to the barricade.
"Excuse me," I said in English, hoping he understood. "I was told to... talk to you?"
"Y/N?" he asked over the loud hum of the arena.
"Yes, that's me," I said.
He nodded, checking something off. "Okay, Y/N. Enjoy the show. Stay exactly here when the concert finishes. Do not leave with the crowd. I will come get you."
I barely had time to process the reality of those words before the arena erupted into deafening screams. TWICE walked out onto the stage for soundcheck, looking bare-faced, casual, and breathtakingly beautiful.
I scanned the members, and when my eyes landed on Sana, my jaw practically hit the floor.
She was wearing it. Again. My black yakuza cat t-shirt. She had tied the hem in a knot at her waist to make it fit better. I stared at her, utterly baffled. Was she really planning to return it today? Why would she wear it to soundcheck if she was giving it back? Was she... trying to make me notice her?
If that was the plan, it was a massive success.
Sana’s eyes scanned the VIP crowd, locking onto me almost instantly. A brilliant, knowing smile spread across her face, and she gave a tiny, subtle wave in my direction. My heart melted into a puddle.
But as the soundcheck went on, things took an unexpected turn.
Dahyun, who was walking across the stage, spotted me. She must have noticed me smiling like an idiot, because she stopped, crouched down near the edge of the stage, and made a funny face directly at me. I burst out laughing, returning a goofy thumbs-up.
A few seconds later, Nayeon strolled by, slinging an arm around Dahyun. She made eye contact with me, her famous bunny-smile flashing brightly. Without missing a beat, she gave me a playful wink and blew a dramatic, exaggerated kiss right in my direction.
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks so fast I probably looked like a stop sign. I buried my face in my hands, absolutely flustered, earning a loud, delighted cackle from Nayeon as the fans around me screamed in jealousy.
When I peeked through my fingers, my eyes darted to Sana.
She was standing a few feet away, her hands resting firmly on her hips. She had definitely seen the whole interaction. And she did not look amused.
The bright smile from earlier had vanished. Instead, her lips were pushed out into a very prominent, very adorable pout. The contrast of her jealous, grumpy expression right above the menacing samurai cat on my shirt was so funny and endearing I almost forgot how to breathe.
She narrowed her eyes slightly at Nayeon, then glanced at me, her brow furrowing. She shot me a look that clearly said, 'Hey, you're supposed to be looking at me,' before turning on her heel and marching to the other side of the stage, refusing to look in my direction for the rest of the soundcheck.
The sheer possessiveness of that little pout made my heart race faster than the bass of the music.
The actual concert was a blur of pure adrenaline. It was everything I had ever dreamed of and more. The lights, the live band, the thousands of Candybongs creating a synchronized ocean of color—it was a sensory overload in the best way possible. I sang until my throat was raw, danced until my legs ached, and shared incredible moments with the ONCEs around me. I knew, without a doubt, that I was going to remember this night for the rest of my life.
I even made friends with the ONCEs standing next to me. We shared water, took photos for each other, and screamed together. For those three hours, it didn't matter where any of us came from; we were a family. The ONCE family.
But as the final confetti fell and the stadium lights flickered on, the reality of what was about to happen crashed down on me.
The crowd began to filter out of the arena, buzzing with post-concert excitement. I hugged my new friends goodbye, ignoring the security guards ushering people to the exits, and stayed glued to my spot by the barricade.
After about ten agonizing minutes, the same staff member appeared. He motioned for me to follow him. He lifted the barrier, and suddenly, I was crossing the threshold from the public arena into the labyrinth of the backstage area.
We walked down concrete hallways filled with massive road cases and busy crew members shouting in Korean and Spanish.
Finally, he stopped in front of a door, knocked twice, and pushed it open, gesturing for me to enter.
I stepped inside, and my soul temporarily left my body.
It was a large room, buzzing with chaotic energy. The girls were all there, already changed out of their stage outfits into their comfortable, normal clothes. Jihyo and Jeongyeon were eating snacks from a catering table. Chaeyoung and Mina were huddled over a phone, and Momo was recording some video content with a handheld camera.
I was standing in the same room as TWICE. Breathing the same air.
I was so paralyzed with shock that I didn't even notice someone walking up to me until a soft, familiar voice broke the silence.
"Close mouth."
I blinked, snapping out of my trance. Sana was standing right in front of me, a playful, sparkling giggle escaping her lips as she looked at my awestruck expression.
"S-sorry…" I stammered, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "I… I’m trying to process this."
Sana laughed again, a bright, melodic sound that made my stomach flutter. Without a second thought, she reached out, taking my wrist in her hand, and pulled me fully inside the room, shutting the door behind me. Her hand was so soft, and the gesture was so natural it made my head spin.
She turned to the rest of the room and spoke in rapid, enthusiastic Korean. I didn't understand the exact words, but I caught "shirt" in English, and she gestured proudly between me and her chest.
It was only then that I realized she was still wearing the yakuza cat t-shirt.
The room went quiet for a second before chaos erupted. The girls all turned, their eyes widening in recognition. They immediately started greeting me, bowing and waving, a chorus of "Hello!" and "Nice to meet you!" filling the room.
But then, the tone shifted. Jeongyeon smirked, saying something rapidly in Korean that made Jihyo burst into loud laughter. Momo chimed in from behind her camera, zooming in on Sana and adding a comment that made Sana's eyes go wide.
Whatever they were saying, it made Sana blush furiously. Her entire face turned the color of a strawberry, and she whined, swatting playfully in Jeongyeon's direction. "Yah! Hajima!"
I didn't understand a single word of Korean, but I smiled anyway, looking a bit confused but incredibly endeared by their dynamic.
Sana guided me toward the plush leather couches in the center of the room, and soon, a few of the members wandered over, casually pulling up chairs or perching on the armrests. It was fascinatingly, almost terrifyingly normal. They offered me a bottle of water, asked me if I enjoyed the concert, and I even ended up teaching them a few basic words in Spanish. I couldn't help but laugh as they dramatically tried to roll their 'R's, repeating "Gracias" and "Arriba" with varying degrees of success.
But it was mostly Dahyun and Nayeon who dominated the conversation with me, clearly recognizing my face from the barricade during soundcheck.
They had trapped me on the couch—Dahyun on my left, and Nayeon sitting just a little too close on my right.
"You turn very red," Nayeon teased in English, leaning a little too close, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "When I send kiss."
"I... uh, well, you surprised me," I choked out, gripping my water bottle like a lifeline. I could feel my face doing exactly what she was teasing me about, the heat creeping up my neck at an alarming rate.
Dahyun giggled, her eyes crinkling into adorable half-moons as she lightly slapped my arm. "So cute!"
Nayeon hummed in agreement, leaning in even closer, tilting her head as she looked me up and down. She was so close I could see the faint glitter of her stage makeup. "You are very cute," she purred, her famous bunny smile on full display. "Are all Spanish ONCEs this cute?"
My brain completely short-circuited. System failure. Im Nayeon was flirting with me. The oldest member of TWICE was actively flirting with me just to see me panic. I felt my face ignite, reaching a temperature that could probably boil water. My stutter returned full force as I tried to form a coherent, cool English sentence, but all that came out was a pathetic, breathless little squeak. I failed miserably.
"Cute," Nayeon laughed in triumph, reaching out. Her cool index finger lightly poked my burning cheek.
The other girls around the couch cooed at my reaction. To them, my flustered, starstruck panic was apparently the most hilarious and adorable entertainment they’d had all day. I was completely defenseless against them.
I glanced up, silently praying for a rescue, and my eyes landed on Sana.
She was standing by the catering table a few feet away, holding a bottle of juice. She wasn't laughing with the rest of them. She was staring directly at Nayeon’s finger on my cheek, and her jaw was clenched tight. The bright, bubbly aura she usually carried was entirely gone, replaced by that same, adorable pout I had seen during soundcheck.
She didn't like the way Nayeon was making me blush, and she definitely didn't like sharing my attention when she had gone through so much trouble to get me back here.
Suddenly, she set her juice down with a sharp thud.
Before Nayeon could tease me again, a hand -soft, but surprisingly firm- wrapped around my wrist.
I looked up. But Sana wasn’t looking at me; her dark eyes were locked onto Nayeon. It wasn't real, genuine anger, but the air around her practically vibrated with a very clear, very territorial energy. It was a look that screamed, 'Mine.'
"We go now," Sana announced to the group, her tone surprisingly firm. She didn't let go of my wrist.
Nayeon slowly leaned back into the couch. An amused, deeply knowing smirk played on her lips. She clearly knew exactly what she was doing by teasing me, and she had gotten the exact reaction out of Sana she was aiming for. "Going where?" Nayeon asked in Korean, her tone innocent but her eyes sparkling with triumph.
"To other room," Sana replied in English, ignoring Nayeon's smirk and looking directly at me. Her dark eyes were intense, masking a flicker of something almost nervous. "To... talk. And give shirt back."
Before I could even process the words "other room" or say goodbye to the rest of the group, Sana tugged on my wrist.
"Wait, nice to meet—!" I tried to call out over my shoulder, but Sana was already leading me out of the chaotic green room. I caught one last glimpse of Nayeon waving victoriously and Dahyun hiding her giggles behind her hands before the heavy door clicked shut behind us, cutting off the noise of the room entirely.
The sudden quiet of the backstage hallway was deafening, save for the sound of our footsteps and the frantic, echoing thud of my own heart. I stumbled after her, my eyes glued to the back of her head and the oversized yakuza cat t-shirt swishing around her thighs. I was completely, utterly at the mercy of a very pouty, very determined Minatozaki Sana, and as she dragged me down that empty corridor, I realized I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen next.
I have genuinely lost track of how many times I've watched this video but pls enjoy 32 seconds of Momo trying to kick Jihyo and then immediately turning and running straight into Jeongyeon's boobs from many different angles lmaooo
hello!!! Can we get jealous possessive nayeon who's actually a big needy baby? Do what you will with it! You'll do great things lol thank you!!! 🩵
needy
sub! nayeon x f! reader // smut
synopsis: nayeon got jealous easily — you knew that. but maybe, just maybe, you wanted to push her a little by giving her less attention, instead focusing on sana. OR you touch nayeon under the blankets while sana sits right next to the two of you :)
author’s note: nayeon req yayyy hehe 😊 thank you so much for your nice wordssss & sorry this took forever !! 🩵
content: semi-public sex, sneaky sex, reader makes nayeon intentionally jealous, jealous nayeon, possessive nayeon, kinda degradation, nayeon is super subby & needs your attention 24/7, whiny nayeon
2.7k words
both you and sana immediately burst into giggles, hitting each other as her words hung in the air.
you didn’t even notice as nayeon entered the living room, her footsteps muted by your laughter.
“what’s so funny?” nayeon frowned as she placed her bag on the floor. she quickly took in the scene in front of her: you and sana were sprawled lazily in the living room, idly munching on snacks and watching a movie. it was a common sight, especially on days where the two of you had no schedule. but what wasn’t normal was how close sana was to you, clinging onto every inch of your skin. sana’s hand rested just above your knee, her head resting a bit too comfortably on your shoulder.
“oh hi nayeon! how was your recording?” you asked without even looking at her, your eyes glued to the tv.
nayeon couldn’t help the pout that formed on her lips. you couldn’t even spare her a few seconds of eye contact?
nayeon just stared for a few moments before jumping into the empty space next to you. she wrapped her arm around yours, leaning her body flush against your frame. nayeon immediately sighed as your scent enveloped her.
“it was really good! pd-nim said my tone was really good. do you want to hear some of it?” nayeon asked excitedly, her eyes wide as they bore into yours.
“sure! maybe a little later though.” you said, shooting her an apologetic glance. “sana really wanted to show me this movie — apparently it’s so bad it’s good.”
sana giggled at that, trying to muffle her laughter into the crook of your neck. you let her, smiling wide as sana’s nose brushed against the curve of your neck.
you weren’t oblivious. you could’ve easily pulled away from sana, from all her touches and whispered remarks.
but did you really want to?
every little thing that sana did only seemed to set nayeon off more. her nails dug lightly into your sleeve whenever sana laughed at your jokes. she shifted closer and closer until she was practically halfway in your lap, her thigh pressed stubbornly over yours.
cute.
nayeon’s eyes narrowed at the tv even though she hadn’t paid attention to a single scene in the last fifteen minutes. every few seconds, her gaze flickered back to you instead — checking if you were still looking at sana, still smiling at sana, still letting sana touch you so easily.
when sana started to explain what was going to happen in the film next, nayeon immediately interrupted, speaking over the japanese girl.
“y/n, im cold. can i wear your hoodie?” nayeon shivered for effect, flashing her bunny smile at you.
“nayeon, you just interrupted sana,” you chided gently, giving her a pointed look.
nayeon looked away to roll her eyes and mumbled out an almost unintelligible “sorry.”
you hummed in approval, starting to take off your hoodie.
“nayeon unnie, i can just give you the blanket,” sana said quickly, flashing what was probably supposed to be a helpful grin.
nayeon very reluctantly took it from sana’s hands, her lips pressed together in a thin line. she threw the blanket across both her lap and yours, making sure it covered the space between the two of you completely.
you barely had time to suppress your smile before nayeon suddenly grabbed your hand beneath the blanket, tugging it insistently into her lap.
“nayeon,” you warned quietly.
“what?” she whispered back, feigning innocence as her fingers threaded through yours. “i’m cold.”
her tone alone made it obvious she was lying.
especially when she immediately pressed herself closer to your side, you could feel the way her skin burned against yours, warm and not cold at all. nayeon’s head dropped onto your shoulder with an exaggerated sigh, her pout deepening when your attention shifted back toward sana.
“and then this is the part where they go on their first date—”
“y/n,” nayeon interrupted again, voice smaller this time.
you glanced down at her. “what now?”
“nothing,” she mumbled, clearly meaning the exact opposite.
for the next few minutes, nayeon stayed unusually quiet. but underneath the blanket, her hand kept moving — tracing along your palm, squeezing your fingers whenever sana laughed too loudly, subtly trying to pull your attention back to her.
you could practically feel her getting more and more irritated every second you continued listening to sana instead of her.
eventually, nayeon let out another miserable sigh before leaning close enough for her lips to brush your ear.
“pay attention to me,” she whispered.
the words came out embarrassingly soft.
you raised an eyebrow. “aren’t i already?”
“no,” nayeon muttered immediately. “you’ve been talking to sana the whole night. and,” nayeon swallowed, avoiding your gaze. “you’ve barely touched me all night.”
you whispered quietly, lowering your tone so that sana couldn’t hear. “is that what this is about?
“no…”
“nayeon.”
“i just hate it when you ignore me,” she whined quietly, bringing your intertwined hands to rest on her thigh.
“i’ll be right back,” sana said, standing up from her spot on the couch. “i have to use the restroom. but you guys can keep watching! this part isn’t too important anyway.” she quickly left, the absence of her presence suddenly making the room feel smaller.
for a second, neither of you moved.
you untangled your hand from hers, flattening your palm against the top of nayeon’s knee. you could feel the way her skin burned against your hand. nayeon looked at you differently now that she didn’t need to conceal her expression for sana.
“y/n,” nayeon whispered, your name coming out breathy.
“were you really upset?” you murmured, voice lower than before.
“you were ignoring me,” nayeon whined. “i—”
her breath hitched when your hand slowly rose higher, your hand stroking up her thigh.
you didn’t say anything else, just staring at her and gauging her reaction.
when you slid the tip of your fingers under the fabric of her shorts, she sucked in a breath of air.
nayeon flushed immediately, like she was embarrassed by how fast she reacted. but still, she didn’t pull away, instead leaning closer to you and melting under your touch. she guided your hand all the way up to her waistband, holding her breath as your fingers hooked slightly in.
nayeon just stared at you, waiting for your next move. her breathing was heavier, pupils dilated in anticipation and lust.
“please,” she whispered when she realized you weren’t going to do anything without her asking.
you tilted your head slightly. “please what?”
there was another pause, the only sound being nayeon’s heavy breathing.
she swallowed, her eyes flicking to your lips for half a second before she looked away again, suddenly shy.
“touch me,” she murmured, so quiet you weren’t sure if you heard right. on any other given day, you would’ve teased her further, refusing to do anything until nayeon said exactly what she wanted. but today, the needy expression on her face was enough.
you gently pulled down on the waistband, telling her to lift herself up so that you could take her shorts all the way off.
when you finally cupped her clothed core, nayeon let out a shaky exhale, her eyes fluttering shut.
she was absolutely drenched. you could feel the wet stain against the fabric of her panties, the way her arousal stuck to the thin material.
you bit back a laugh. “all this because i ignored you?”
nayeon started to whine, but her response quickly turned into that of a gasp when you roughly pulled her underwear down, leaving her lower half completely bare. you were free to touch her, skin-to-skin, without the inconvenience of clothing.
you slid your fingers against her slit, almost purring at how easily your fingers moved against the smooth expanse of skin.
just as you were about to slip a finger inside her tight heat, you heard the restroom door open.
sana.
nayeon’s eyes widened in panic, but her body reacted otherwise: nayeon held your wrist so that you couldn’t move your hand away, pathetically shifting her hips in need.
so needy.
“nayeon,” you whispered, your breath hot against her ear. “can you stay quiet for me?”
nayeon nodded her head frantically. “yes. please— i—”
you could already tell she couldn’t think straight, not when your hand was just inches away from her entrance and her pussy was pulsing in need. oh well — you’d see just how long she could last.
“you better stay very, very quiet,” you smirked, leaning your head away from her ear just as sana returned. she bounced into her seat, making the couch creak under the weight.
“i’m back! are you guys ready? — this is where everything gets crazy.”
you definitely agreed with that.
you slowly circled nayeon’s clit, all the while completely avoiding looking her away. you gave your full attention to sana, nodding along and humming in agreement as sana rambled excitedly about how surprisingly poetic the next scene was.
“...it’s so, so crazy,” sana finished, her eyes sparkling. “isn’t it, nayeon unnie?”
you quickly glanced at nayeon. her cheeks were completely flushed, and she was barely able to open her eyes. you increased your pace against her clit, smirking as her breath hitched.
“i— y-yes,” she stuttered, biting her lips hard to prevent any unwanted noises from slipping out.
nayeon clamped her legs tightly around your hand as you flicked at her clit even faster — at that pace, she could barely control herself, barely restrain herself to stay quiet like she’d promised you.
“oh my god, and then here, the guy—” sana continued to talk. you quickly removed your hand from nayeon’s dripping core, turning your body to give sana your full attention.
you laughed when sana said something funny, although you weren’t really laughing at that.
beside you, nayeon gave a confused groan. she reached for your hand under the blanket, trying to guide your hand back to where she needed it, where she was dripping for you.
you only began to move your hand again when sana finished talking.
this time, you slipped a finger inside her, doing so slowly to prevent any squelching sounds. you slid in impossibly slow, biting your lip at how tight she was — her pussy practically swallowed your finger.
next to you, nayeon turned impossibly quiet. with her other hand, she was gripping the sleeve of your hoodie, her face buried in your shoulder. her body was shaking from restraining herself of grinding onto you.
once the entire length of your finger was inside her, you slid out equally as slowly. you repeated this over and over, reveling in the effect that it had on nayeon. with each thrust, nayeon’s walls squeezed around your finger, her grip on your hoodie turning so tight her knuckles turned white.
she was barely able to stay quiet, but the sounds didn’t travel as far since her moans were muffled by your hoodie.
“this is the actual plot twist,” sana squealed, clapping her hands as she leaned forwards towards the screen.
“oh is it?” you asked, quickly sliding your fingers out of nayeon. you didn’t so much as glance nayeon’s way, pulling your drenched fingers into your lap.
when the plot twist ended, you moved your hand back up to nayeon’s pussy, only to find that she was already touching herself, her own fingers stuffed deep inside. she had two fingers pumping in and out of her as her other hand circled her clit.
she was whining against your hoodie, whimpering at the new intensity of pleasure — one that she had to give herself because you weren’t paying any attention to her.
you quickly slapped her hands away. nayeon whimpered loudly, but luckily, sana didn’t notice. you leaned into her ear: “such a slut. you can’t even wait for my fingers hm?”
nayeon whispered your name, the sound so filthy and broken.
“d-don’t stop, p-please,” nayeon begged, her breath hot against your ears.
suddenly, sana leaned further so that she could look at nayeon.
“nayeon unnie…? are you okay? you look kind of red,” sana commented, looking at the older girl with worry. “are you feeling hot now? do you want me to take the blanket back?”
in that exact moment, you chose to thrust two fingers inside her. nayeon’s eyes rolled back, but she quickly recovered. however, sana noticed, which only added to her original concern.
“n-no!” nayeon immediately shouted, her eyes wide with panic. you fucked her even harder, slamming your fingers each time so that they hit her g-spot at the perfect angle. “i mean— i-i’m fine. just tired i t-think.” her voice was shaky, her eyes barely able to stay open.
her thigh was jerking uncontrollably. after the endless times of edging and touching her on and off, you could tell she was close. and though she’d never admit, you felt how much wetter nayeon had gotten when sana started to pay more attention. nayeon gushed around your hand, so wet to the point that you didn’t think you could pump into her without fully getting caught.
so instead, you opted to curl your fingers right against her g-spot.
nayeon buried her face into your shoulder again, but not before a very noticeable moan slipped past her lips.
“nayeon unnie?” sana questioned again, the suspicion more evident in her voice. she stared back and forth between nayeon and you, trying to gauge what was happening. you stared straight ahead, acting engrossed in the movie while your finger curled into her a rapid pace under the blanket, your leg pressed on top of nayeon’s open ones to prevent the blanket from moving so much.
“sana,” you said, your voice smooth and even. “do you think you could get nayeon a glass of water? maybe with some ice cubes in it.”
the ice cubes were just a time stall — you were sure it would be just enough to make nayeon cum without sana coming back at the wrong time.
sana nodded, getting up slowly as she shot one more suspicious glance towards nayeon.
as soon as sana disappeared into the kitchen, nayeon whimpered out loud.
“f-fuck, i’m s-so close,” she moaned, throwing her head back. her back arched into your fingers, pushing them deeper inside her.
with one hand still buried deep inside her, you brought the other one to circle her clit. her walls fluttered against your fingers, squeezing your fingers impossibly tight. you curled into her again, murmuring filthy things into her ear.
“come on, baby. cum for me before sana catches us.”
at that, nayeon came hard, biting down on your clothed shoulder as her entire body shuddered from her climax.
a muffled scream echoed through the living room, the sound quiet yet loud across the vast space.
your pulled your finger slowly out of nayeon, your entire hand drenched from her juices. the couch underneath her was stained as well, evidence of just how wet she was.
nayeon fell limp against your body, her thighs still twitching from the aftermath of her climax.
“let’s get you dressed quickly,” you said to her, pressing a kiss to her cheeks. she nodded weakly, throwing the blanket to the floor as she looked for her discarded clothes somewhere in the quilt.
you watched as pulled her shorts up, her legs wobbling as she sat back down. as soon as you threw the blanket over the two of you again — to hide the very obvious wet spot on the couch — sana returned with a cold glass of water in her hands.
“here you go,” sana handed the glass to nayeon.
nayeon hummed in thanks, taking a small sip of the liquid.
“are you sure you’re okay?” sana asked one last time, looking not-so-subtly around to see if she could detect any suspicious changes to the environment.
“i think she’s better now,” you answered for her, a cheeky grin on your face as you brought your hand to nayeon’s thigh again.
Hi! I loved the other story! It was such a great touch that the reader had a cat bc of course an introverted lesbian has to have a cat!
I’d love it if you’d write another story, if you don’t mind. An Idol!Sanaxsoftmasc!Idol!reader fanfic where the reader and Sana are friends (from different groups and agencies, so they don’t see each other when they’re practicing, only at award shows, so they don’t know how the other feels because they usually go out alone as friends and don’t realize how they feel for eachother bc they are oblivious). The reader doesn’t know that Sana is in love with her because she flirts with everyone, but Sana always thinks of her when she talks about her ideal type (a masculine person who’s cute when they smile). One day, Sana gets jealous because the reader is a charming introvert and other fem idols and actresses talk about her or consider her their ideal type, so Sana confesses her feelings to the reader in private because she can’t take it anymore and is a slightly possessive femme (not toxic, just a little). A little angst, then some fluff moments, and then maybe a little making out and a suggestive ending too!
Sorry if i just ask this type of reader It just that there are not many mascfem!readerxSana nor Idol!readerxSana and i would like to read more of this bc i think there are a lot of great dynamics that don't get explore! Thank you so much!
♟️-
|| i like my women like i like my money, green, a little jealous
idol!minatozaki sana x idolfem!reader ; light angst, fluff
—
synopsis: the three times sana gets jealous, and the one time she finally does something about it.
tw: none!
a/n: enjoy ♟️ anon,, i LOVE your request,, it’s super fun to explore the dynamics (as you said)!!! i proofread the last sentence if that counts...?
wc: 3.5k
"so? what do you think?" your hairdresser says from behind, soft and expectant, hands resting lightly on your shoulders as you stare at yourself in the mirror.
it's not a drastic change, but it's definitely different. your hair is shorter and more layered on the sides now, cleaner around your jaw, curtain bangs just messy enough to fall into your eyes if you let it. the length barely sits on your shoulders, not quite close to a bixie nor a mullet—somewhere in between.
"i love it, unnie! this is exactly the style i envisioned!"
you turn your head from side to side, testing it, running a hand through the strands, seeing the dark blue gleam in the light.
"i'm so glad! it suits your face so well!" your hairdresser claps her hands excitedly before letting you know you're good to go, making sure to tell you about hair maintenance until your next appointment.
as you gather your things to go to the front desk to pay, you hear a laugh that sounds too familiar, one that you've heard many times over late-night calls.
peering around the mirror, you see no one other than minatozaki sana, a few chairs down on the opposite side, legs crossed casually as she converses with her hairdresser.
you haven't seen her in-person for a few weeks, schedules having been so insane to add in a hangout with her, only managing to smile with a passing wave at award shows or intermittent texts.
(safe to say, minatozaki sana is an interesting person. a great conversationalist and gorgeous person. kind and caring, always wearing her heart on her sleeve.
you've been pretty close friends for a while, long enough to know how she likes her drink or which side she likes to lie on the most.
your groups met years ago on a variety show, freshly debuted idols from different companies coming together. the interaction was quite monumental, breaking the internet platform with how much fans loved seeing both groups interact with each other.
after filming had wrapped up, someone suggested exchanging numbers before all going out to eat a meal together. from then on, you and sana have hung out numerous times, even going on an overseas trip together and having that vlogged on twice's youtube channel.
oh, and have you mentioned...you have an undying crush on her? because somewhere along the way, you fell hard for sana. embarassingly hard. it gets to the point that you turn into mush and goo every time you're with her, breath uneven as your voice wavers.
and the worst part? sana is a flirt to everyone. a big one. effortless. unapologetic. magnetic. pulling. second-nature.
she says just the right thing, smiling all sweet and sugary—innocent even—when she knows she said something that friends shouldn't really say to each other.
so whenever she puts on that teasing grin, you have to emotionally prepare yourself, because it's just one of those lines that she says to everyone.
you may not be as special after all).
slinging your bag over your shoulder, you decide to walk over to where she's sitting, with your hands in your pockets, lowly whistling under your breath. before you even had gotten closer to her, she sees you through the mirror, turning around immediately, legs uncrossing as a beaming smile spreads across her face, bright and unmistakably hers.
"sana-chan, it's nice seeing you here!" you wave at her with a smile that mirrors her own, not forgetting to bow at the hairdresser. the woman says she'll come back with the dyes and excuses herself, leaving you both alone.
"well, if it isn't my favorite person!" she says, voice light and warm in a way that settles deep in your chest like it always does. and then she lets out a gasp when she finally takes your appearance in.
"y-your hair!" she points at it, "the color is amazing! the cut is amazing! you look amazing!"
you laugh giddily, getting shier as she goes on and on with her compliments.
"thank you, i appreciate it!"
she looks behind you, mouth turning into her signature pout as she looks around.
"is your manager here?"
"ah, no, i have a free morning. i have recordings later in the afternoon, though." you scratch your chin, trying to run through your day's schedule in your head.
"are you leaving soon? if you're not busy, stay with me for a bit? i have a lot to update you...in juicy details!" she scrunches her nose cutely, legs kicking as she looks at you with her puppy eyes.
and god, that damn pout.
"o-oh, uhm—yeah i just finished. i can stay for a few minutes!" clumsily scurrying to sit in the seat next to sana, you sink into the leather chair, legs spreading comfortably as a hand rest on your thigh while the other stays in your pocket.
the hairdresser comes back, separating sana's hair with numerous clips, which made you pull your phone out for a quick picture of her while she whines, pout becoming more prominent.
a low giggle leaves you as you look at the picture, peering back up when you hear sana grumble,
"delete it, now!" she demands, narrowing her eyes at yours through the mirror.
you shake your head with a teasing grin, "i think it's a great picture that i can use for your birthday post! your fans would love it!"
her mouth drops open, eyes mortified, "excuse me?"
you lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket, leaning back into the chair, swiveling around a bit. you give her a smirk, shrugging your shoulders annoyingly.
sana turns in her seat as much as the clips allow, glaring at you in a way that's supposed to make you think she's really mad—except she looks anything but that, more like a cute hamster (but you won't tell her that).
"you're so annoying," she huffs, "you're lucky you're so good-looking..."
she mumbles the last sentence, more to herself than to anyone, but you heard it.
you stilled completely, hand freezing from playing with your carabiner clipped on your pants.
before you could respond, two figures loomed over both of you.
"excuse me..." you glance over to your side, while sana looks through the mirror.
two younger female idols stand there, clearly a bit nervous but excitement gleams in their eyes, hands clasped together.
"hello," one of them says quickly, "we're sorry for interrupting, but we're really big fans of both of you!"
you straighten yourself in your seat, offering a polite smile, "oh, hi! thank you." you awkwardly scratch the back of your neck, not sure how to continue the conversation.
sana, the angel she is, brightens instantly, exuding her extrovertedness.
"oh my goodness, i listen to your group's music all the time! you both are even cuter in person!" sana winks at them, causing the girls to squeal in their hands, happy that their favorite knows of them.
you nod in agreement, relieved.
one of the girls glanced over at you, shuffling forward shyly with a pen and paper in hand.
"—uhm, i-is it okay if we get both of your autographs? it's okay if not, we've taken so much of your time already!" you agree right away, taking the items into your hands, signing your name before passing them to sana.
her member next to her adds on to the conversation, looking directly at you, which makes you believe she is the outgoing one rather than her companion,
"sunbaenim, minju here is your biggest fan ever! she gushes about your performance all the time. you're literally her girl crush of all times! i think she has mentioned to me that you're her ideal—" before the girl could finish, minju covers her mouth with her hand immediately, face flushed red.
"uh—p-please ignore her! she just really likes talking...!" you laugh shyly into your hand, amused yet touched by having such dedicated fans.
"it's okay. i am very flattered that you think of me that way. thank you. minju, right?"
the girl's eyes widen, nodding her head so quick that you think it would cause her a migraine later.
"and what's your name?" you look over at her member, laughing again when the girl finally pries minju's hand away.
"i'm the one and only, sohee!" sohee is practically vibrating with excitement, bowing so deeply you're half worried she'll tip over, "honestly, now i get why minju likes you so much! your charisma is out of this world!"
sohee turns her head to look at sana, "and you too, sana-sunbaenim! you're so beautiful! oh my gosh, this is a dream come true!"
sohee extends both her hands out at sana, bowing as she quietly asks for a handshake.
sana waves her hand lightly, giggling as she reaches out for sohee's hands, saying how she loves her energy which makes sohee blush profusely.
you can tell minju wants to do the same for you, eyes glancing between you and the interaction between her member and sana like she's building up the courage to say something.
you recognize the look, so you stand up. minju jolts when you move toward her as you extend your hand for her to shake. minju's mouth came agape, taking your hand immediately in hers as she repeatedly say thank you.
sohee shifts back over to you to give sana hairdresser's more space as she rolls over her cart of tools.
from the mirror, sana notices how minju holds onto your hand tighter, almost as if she didn't want to let go. her eyes travel to your face, smile soft and polite, slightly overwhelmed, but you still give them your full attention nonetheless.
something uncomfortable brews in her chest, gnawing and ugly, settling without invitation, even coiling her ribs like a knot she won't be able to undo no matter how many times she swallows it down.
as the two idols finally step back, still thanking you both as they leave for their appointments.
you shift back next to sana, leaning on the chair's handrest with your hands in your pockets once again.
"they are really sweet," you said, grinning as you think back to the cute interaction.
"yeah, i agree." she replies, though you notice it was less playful than before, "they really like you."
her eyes stay on the mirror, but you can tell she's not really looking at herself.
"yeah, they really love you as well! i mean—who doesn't?"
sana's face was unreadable for a second before it shifts back to a teasing one, preparing herself to tell you the so-called juicy updates.
(she wonders if you love her as much as she loves you).
—
you exhale tiredly as you throw yourself on your bed, collapsing on the soft mattress as your body sinks into it.
dance practice was brutal today. having to prepare for your much anticipated comeback, you had to work a hundred times more than usual, wanting to give your all. you can feel your muscles aching all over, throat feeling dry from the reruns in the studio, and your head is still buzzing with counts, corrections, and formations—all blurring messily in your head whenever you close your eyes.
you turn to your side—cheek smushed into your pillow and your hair still damp from the shower—grabbing your laptop on the nightstand before sitting up against the headboard.
aimlessly checking notifications and answering back missed texts, a youtube notification pops up in the corner: sana's fridge interview.
oh, right! a new episode came out today! your mind wanders to a few days back to when you last video called her, remembering her pout as she made you promise to watch it,
"you have to watch it, okay? and call me after! i want to see your honest reaction!"
tch, how demanding.
but you click the video anyway, because then you'll have a reason to call her.
-
you don't even realize you're smiling at first. it just happens (as it always does when it comes to sana).
sana was with one of the best rookie actress star, having debuted only recently in a movie that broke records days after it was released. the two bounce off each other well, laughing, teasing, the kind of chemistry that makes for good content.
the interview flows naturally, with small talks, stories, and questions.
getting halfway through the video, the topic of ideal types comes on, making you unconsciously grip your blanket a little tighter.
"so, sana-sunbaenim, i'm sure a lot of your fans are wondering about this question: what is your ideal type in a partner?"
sana laughs, brushing her hair behind her ear as the other covers her mouth, "oh, you're asking all the right questions..." sana hums, lips pursing as she tries to gather her thoughts,
"i like someone...a little more on the masculine side," she starts, pausing a bit before continuing, "maybe a bit clumsy because i'm quite clumsy myself. hm, someone not too loud, but their calming quiet presence still steals my breath away...and someone who looks really cute when they smile!"
your heart starts beating a little faster, churning.
ah, she must have someone in mind to be so specific.
"what about you?"
the actress chimes in immediately, nodding enthusiastically, "i know exactly what you mean! my ideal type has always been y/n!"
your stomach drops, not because the actress says your name, but because of sana's reaction. the way she freezes for just a fraction of a second—subtle in a way that others wouldn't catch it—but you notice. her smile falters just barely, eyes flicking to the side then back to the actress's.
"is that so?" she says, tone still light, but there was a twinge of possessiveness...?
the rookie giggles, continuing, "totally! she's just so captivating without even trying! she's amazingly cool on stage, but also looks like a softie, if you know what i mean? i feel like she'll be a great partner!"
the actress trails of dreamily as sana laughs, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"yeah."
and the topic ends there, as sana changes the subject as quickly as she had answered it.
-
you fingers hover hesitantly over the keyboard as you stare absentmindedly at the messages between you and sana. you have been meaning to text her for a while now, not being able to find the nerve to call her because you don't know what to say.
"...okay, you're just overthinking it. it's just sana, someone you've known for so long. get over your shit," you mutter to yourself, fingers finally moving to type out a text.
you:
just finished your interview! you did really well as always~
before you could switch to another app, sana's name pop up on your screen, indicating an incoming video call from her.
so much for not calling.
you fix your hair, making sure to set your laptop at a good angle before accepting the call.
"hey charming!" sana tries to whistle, but fails miserably, causing you both to laugh, easing your worries you had prior.
"so..." she drags out the word, "what did you think?"
"i like the dynamics you two have. the actress is also really pretty! no wonder she's getting recognized so quickly."
sana frowns immediately, voice suddenly so small that it caught you off guard,
"that's all?"
did you say something wrong?
"oh—well, the episode was really funny, and i enjoyed it a lot!"
"that's good..." her lips were in a thin line now, making your brows furrow a bit.
"a-are you alri—
"i'm sorry—i forgot i had to call jihyo to discuss some things. let's call another time, hm?"
and before you could answer, the call had ended. you stare at your reflection faintly on the black screen, brows still deeply furrowed now, heart feeling like it's been pulled apart. sana's hurt expression imprinted in your mind like a stubborn stain.
(sana knew she shouldn't be jealous. you aren't even hers to begin with. and yet something about that makes her heart hurt).
—
sometimes, you wish you had your leader's confidence or your maknae's outgoing personality. because now, as you stand awkwardly outside your makeup room while a female idol confesses her feelings to you, you're not sure how to turn her down nicely.
"i—uh— thank you, really," you wince at your response. before you could reject the girl, you see a figure turning a corner, a familiar light brown-haired girl who has been on your mind since forever.
it's been weeks since you've talked to sana, too busy with your comeback to really focus on texting or calling. sana also doesn't reach out to you either, which makes matters worse, because she always finds something to send to you—gifs, memes, random videos of cats or dogs, anything. but it's been radio silence since the night she hung up on you.
so, tonight, at this award show that both of your groups happen to attend, you were going to corner her somehow, in some way. but before that, you need to have your focus on a specific matter at hand,
"i'm sorry—uh, i appreciate you telling me your...feelings, but i unfortunately cannot reciprocate it."
the idol shifts awkwardly, expression sad as she nods slowly. you both bow at each other, the girl sensing your urgency to be somewhere else, excuses herself first. you quickly run down the hall that sana went down, seeing her about to enter a room, running after her to stop the door just in time before it closes.
sana startled eyes stare right back at yours, before determination fills them, making her pull you in and shutting the door behind you. she lets go of your wrist, but doesn't step back, eyes narrowing as she blocks you with both of her hands beside your head.
she's glaring now (which makes you want to let out a laugh because, for goodness sake, sana can never look mad in her life).
"what did you answer her?"
being closed to her made your brain malfunction—her breath fanning your face and sweet perfume clouding—so all you could utter out was a "huh?"
"i don't like how everyone is infatuated by you..." her voice wavers, but she kept eye contact nonetheless, "i don't like that they think they have a chance, or that they can just confess like that to you. so, answer me, what was your answer to her confession?"
you exhale slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing a fraction,
"i said no, obviously...uhm—w-why exactly are we in this position?" your finger comes up between you both, wiggling back and forth in the little space.
"because i'm in love with you," she blurts out.
"...what?"
she laughs weakly—wetly, too, because tears are starting to pile in the corner of her beautiful eyes—like she can't believe she actually said it.
"i'm in love with you," she repeats, quieter this time, "and i've been trying to ignore it, because we're f-friends, and we don't see each other that often anymore, and you're—you—and i don't want to ruin it but—"
you close the distance in a heartbeat, your lips crashing onto her soft ones. her hands come up to your collar instantly, gripping lightly as she pulls you closer. she moves with a mix of relief, frustration, and something almost desperate.
you stumble back slightly, surprised at her urgency—but you don’t hesitate to respond, your hands finding her waist, pulling her in.
the kiss is messy at first, uncoordinated with too much emotion and too little patience.
but then it settles, slows, becomes something deeper. her grip softens, fingers curling into your shirt instead of clutching. your thumb brushes along her side—feeling the exposed skin from her dress—making her shiver against your front.
when you pull back, your foreheads rest together, breaths uneven.
"you're mine and mine only," she growls, sending a quick pulse down south in your pants, "i'm not a fan with all these women throwing themselves all over you...so, let's hinder it down, hm?"
"i can't help that i'm so charming that all the ladies come lining up for me." you tease, making her scoff.
she grabs you by the tie, making you stumble as you're pulled forward, "well, the only lady—the only line leader, is me. got it?"
"y-yes ma'am."
and then she pulls back, looking all cute and innocent as if she wasn't going to devour you right then and there, smoothing out your outfit and fixing your hair, thumb wiping the lipstick stain on the corner of your mouth.
"take me out for dinner afterwards?" she flutters her eyelashes, making you laugh at her duality.
"of course, beauty," she blushes as you squeeze her sides tighter before continuing, "i know a great place for dessert, too."
you both finally leave the room giddily, thankful that no one had entered, heading back to the main area of the event.
"so, where is the dessert place? as a sweets connoisseur, i might know it! momoring has taken me to a lot of different bakeries recently."
oh sana, how are you so cute?
"oh, i'm sure you've never been to this one," you lean in, whispering hotly into her ear, "because it's my bedroom."
Summary: For a decade, they've been 3mix: the pillars of TWICE. But when a joke hits too close to home, Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Jihyo are forced to confront the truth—their bond is more than just friendship.
Now, Jeongyeon is grappling with a "staring problem" and a sexuality she's always tried to deny, Nayeon is hiding a deep, possessive affection behind a mask of teasing and stolen hoodies, and Jihyo, the ever-impartial leader, must finally acknowledge the special place in her heart reserved only for her two oldest friends.
As they watch Momo, Sana, and Dahyun navigate their own love story, the 3mix trio must navigate their own beautiful, tangled mess of hyper-awareness, flustered chaos, and thrilling possibility. It’s a story about what happens when the core geometry of a friendship is revealed to be the blueprint for a love you never saw coming.
(A sequel to "Tangled Heart.")
Category: Friends to lovers, fluff, angst with a happy ending, humor, idiots in love.
Summary: Sana HCs but it gets NSFW so no minors or cismen , thanks.
bratty!sana who pouts and crosses her arms when things don’t go her way, “you’re just doing this because you like to annoy me.”
bratty!sana who clings onto you as if you’d disappear forever and you two are already long distance so there’s no need to be separate when together in person.
bratty!sana who gets jealous and acts out when you’re not paying attention to her, “you’ve been talking to that girl for a while.” It’s only been two minutes. “When is it my turn?”
bratty!sana who gets other people’s attention when you piss her off. If you’re talking to other girls and giving them attention, how come Sana can’t do the exact same? The only difference is you're being nice while Sana mindlessly flirts.
“Knock it off, Sana. It’s not funny.” You say, pissed, and drag your girlfriend away from the person. “It’s baby to you, not Sana.” She huffs, breaking from your grip. “I can do whatever I want.”
bratty!sana who is a pillow princess. She loves being handled aggressively and she loves to be used by you and only you. “I was only joking.” She moans, fingernails digging into your back.
bratty!sana who gets overstimulated when you're deep inside of her while rubbing her clit, becoming a crying mess begging you to stop. “Please, stop. I’m sorry.”
bratty!sana who loves to be spanked and treated like a whore when she acts out. “It’s all for you, baby.” She whines, bare ass up, scooting closer to you. “Please. I’ll stop; please keep going.”
bratty!sana who loves having your fingers in her mouth. She chokes on them, drooling saliva everywhere while you force her to maintain eye contact with you the entire time you’re fucking her mouth.
bratty!sana who sighs into your chest, with sore legs and a makeup-smeared face “I’ve been a good girl, right, baby?” You hummed, stroking her hair until her breathing evens out and she falls asleep.
Lwk this shit been sitting in my drafts for since February amongst other stuff
Golden hour at the park, the scent of floral perfume, and the devastating power of Minatozaki Sana with a cherry lollipop. If Momo was hoping for a relaxing day off, she’s out of luck. Sana is pushing her right to the edge, and honestly? She can't wait for the day Momo finally pushes back. A short, fluffy Samo fic about unspoken tension and cherry-flavored panic. 🍒✨Category: Fluff, humor, gay panic.
Note: The beautiful comic below was drawn by the incredibly talented @mogurimomorin, and is included here with their permission! This story was heavily inspired by this amazing piece of art. Please go give them some love and support their amazing work here:
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Pinterest 🔴
The afternoon sun was warm, casting a golden hue over the sprawling green grass of the park. It was a rare day off, and the air was filled with the comfortable, lazy energy that only came when they had absolutely nowhere to be and no cameras to smile for.
Spread out on a large, checkered picnic blanket, four members of Twice had naturally sorted themselves into two very different ecosystems.
On one side, Jihyo was sitting cross-legged, looking effortlessly cool in an oversized green button-down. Mina was practically melted against her, her head resting comfortably on Jihyo’s shoulder as she scrolled idly through her phone, occasionally tilting the screen so Jihyo could see. They were in their own quiet, domestic bubble.
On the other side of the blanket, however, the peace was about to be violently disrupted.
Momo, swallowed up in a loose blue flannel, was sitting with her legs sprawled casually out in front of her. She was leaning back, her weight supported entirely on her palms pressing into the grass behind her, enjoying the breeze ruffling her dark hair. She turned her head, her gaze drifting lazily without purpose, until it landed on Sana.
Sana was sitting beside her in a simple white top, the sunlight catching the golden undertones of her brown hair as it tumbled in soft, messy waves over her shoulders. But it wasn't the lighting that had caused Momo’s brain to completely short-circuit. It was the cherry-red lollipop currently occupying Sana’s mouth.
Sana was rolling the candy lazily over her tongue, pulling it out with a soft, wet pop before slipping it back past her plush, glossy lips. She looked completely relaxed, humming a quiet, upbeat tune to herself, her eyes half-closed against the sun.
Momo didn’t mean to stare. She knew she shouldn't stare. But there was something undeniably hypnotic about it. The way Sana’s lips pursed around the candy, the shiny, sticky sheen it left behind on her bottom lip, the subtle movement of her throat when she swallowed... Momo’s dark eyes were glazed over, her mouth parting slightly in a silent, unconscious exhale. She was completely, utterly mesmerized. She couldn't look away if her life depended on it.
Sana, of course, possessed a sixth sense for when all eyes were on her, and an even sharper one when those eyes belonged to Hirai Momo.
Through her peripheral vision, she caught the heavy, unwavering weight of Momo’s stare. She turned her head slightly, expecting Momo to blink, act natural, and look away. But Momo was completely zoned out, her dark eyes wide and thoroughly captivated.
A sly, dangerous little glint sparked in Sana's eyes. The corner of her lips quirked up around the white stick of the lollipop.
Instead of calling her out, Sana shifted her weight. She pushed herself up onto her knees and crawled forward, closing the space between them with the predatory grace of a cat. Momo blinked, finally snapping out of her trance. Her breath hitched. Because she was leaning back on her hands, she had nowhere to go without completely collapsing backward. She was effectively pinned, and Sana knew it.
Sana leaned in closer. And closer. Hovering over her until their noses were nearly brushing.
Momo froze entirely. Total system failure. Her wide, panicked eyes locked onto Sana's, completely overwhelmed by the sudden proximity. She could smell the artificial, sugary scent of cherry syrup mingling with Sana's sweet, expensive perfume.
The lollipop was still tucked in the corner of Sana's mouth, the little white stick angling outwards. She was so close that Momo could see the individual flecks of gold in her brown eyes, could feel the warmth radiating off her skin.
Sana parted her lips around the candy, her dark gaze dropping deliberately to Momo's mouth before flicking slowly back up to meet her terrified eyes.
"Boo," Sana whispered.
The word brushed against Momo’s skin, sweet and breathy.
Momo’s face erupted in flames. A violent, burning heat rushed up her neck, taking over her cheeks and ears until her skin felt like it was physically vibrating. Pure, unfiltered gay panic seized her chest, locking her lungs. Her heart was hammering so wildly against her ribs that she was certain Sana could hear the thudding. Yet, her arms remained locked behind her, completely paralyzed in the magnetic pull of Sana's orbit.
Seeing the absolute, beautiful wreckage she had caused, Sana’s eyes crinkled in deep amusement. Slowly, she reached up, her slender fingers wrapping around the little white stick. She pulled the red candy from her own mouth with a soft pop. Her lips parted, shiny and cherry-stained.
Before Momo could even process the movement, Sana brought the candy forward, brushing it gently against Momo’s slightly parted lips.
Momo let out a startled, breathless squeak, her mouth opening on pure instinct.
With a satisfied smile, Sana slipped the sweet, wet lollipop right into Momo's mouth, her fingertips lightly brushing the underside of Momo's chin as she did, a lingering touch that sent a shiver straight down Momo's spine.
"There," Sana murmured softly, leaning back just a fraction. Her gaze dropped to Momo's lips, watching her taste the candy, before dragging back up to her wide eyes. "You looked like you really wanted a taste."
Momo choked on a breath. She sat there, completely rigid, her weight still braced awkwardly on her hands, the little white stick poking out of her mouth. The taste of cherry exploded on her tongue, but all her fried brain could process was the fact that the candy had just been in Sana's mouth.
Her mind went entirely blank. Error 404: Hirai Momo has stopped working.
The blush that had been creeping up Momo’s neck reached its peak, turning her face a shade of red that defied science. Her shaggy dark hair did absolutely nothing to hide the total meltdown currently frying her circuits.
A soft, sudden giggle broke the heavy tension.
Mina had peeked over the top of her phone, her sharp, observant eyes having caught the entire exchange. She looked from Sana's retreating, smug figure to the buffering, tomato-red mess that was her Japanese friend.
"Mo, are you okay?" Mina asked, her voice laced with obvious, teasing laughter.
Beside her, Jihyo finally looked up from the screen. She took one look at Momo, sitting frozen like a statue with a lollipop in her mouth, her face practically glowing red, and raised a knowing eyebrow. Jihyo just shook her head with a fond, exasperated sigh, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'useless' before leaning back against Mina.
Momo couldn't speak. She couldn't even form a coherent thought. She just blinked, her face burning hotter by the second, her arms locked stiffly behind her, staring blankly ahead as she mechanically sucked on the cherry lollipop.
Sana settled back onto the grass, crossing her legs with elegant satisfaction. She licked a stray drop of sticky sweetness from the corner of her own lips and flashed Momo a brilliant, devastatingly triumphant smile.
She knew exactly what she had just done. She knew that simply breathing in Momo's direction was enough to fluster her, but pulling a stunt like this? It was lethal. And looking at her best friend, completely short-circuited and absolutely speechless, Sana couldn't deny how much she loved the power she had over her. She loved the way Momo's cool, untouchable dancer persona crumbled into a blushing mess with just a look and a whisper.
It was her favorite game to play.
But as Sana watched Momo unconsciously roll the cherry candy over her tongue, her gaze darkened just a fraction, a different kind of heat fluttering in her chest. The panic was adorable, yes. But deep down, Sana couldn't help but wonder what would happen when Momo finally got tired of being teased. She was eagerly, desperately waiting for the day Momo’s gay panic would finally transform into something braver—the day Momo would drop the candy, grab her by the shirt, and actually do something about the electric tension vibrating between them. Until that day came, though, Sana was more than happy to keep pushing her right to the edge.
