Discover Top Posts Tagged with #kpop twice

- 𝖳𝖹𝖴𝖸𝖴 ⋆°

𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖲 𝖨𝖲 𝖥𝖮𝖱

hello…. I am sorry…. If you are sick of broken english nayeon… but 𝓘 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮.

a different plot would be nice,, maybe like,,, pornstar nayeon x fan reader… if ur open to it? 😞 i dont know IM RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS!!!!! Please and thank you..

ೀ APPLES TO APPLES

ּ ֶָ֢. pairing . im nayeon x fem! reader

synopsis . you never thought you'd encounter your favorite actress outside of an incognito tab!

ּ ֶָ֢. content . smut, duh. pornstar! nayeon. fan! reader. pervy! reader. age gap. on camera sex. switch! nayeon. a little self indulgent (VERY self indulgent). cunnilingus. fingering.

notes . hi again hanaaaaaaa, I love this req thank u! andddd thank you for 350 followers omg mwah mwah mwahhhh | part two!

260520 momo looks so cute in these glasses

ㅤonline love ❀࿐ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

Loveee ur writing!!!! Can i request mybe reader starting gym for the first time and bump into momo and jihyo and reader somewhat intrigued both of them? and yesss make this hott!

Gym Buddy

Tw’s// Mohyo x Fem!reader, gymbro!mohyo, idk reader is clumsy, suggestive, praise, i was giggling twirling my hair kicking my feet thank you anon for requesting my biases… im biting my lip rereading oh they’re so fine… ANYWAYS ENJOY… //

—

You pull your hoodie tighter around yourself as you push open the glass doors of the gym. The air smells faintly of metal and disinfectant, a mix of intimidating and sterile. Your sneakers squeak against the floor as you walk in, eyes darting around at the gleaming machines, the rhythmic clanking of weights, the steady whir of treadmills.

You mutter under your breath.

“God, what am I even doing here…”

Your friend’s voice echoes in your head. It’s more private, trust me. Totally worth it. I’ll even help with the membership, no excuses.

So here you are.

You climb onto a treadmill, hands awkward on the sides as you try to figure out the settings. After fumbling with the buttons, you manage to start at a slow jog. It’s not so bad—your nerves settle a little, until your finger accidentally bumps the speed up two notches.

The belt speeds beneath your feet and your jog turns into a panicked half-run.

“Shit—shit—” you gasp, arms flailing slightly.

For a second, you think you’re going to trip in front of everyone, but somehow you catch yourself, awkwardly slapping the stop button. The treadmill slows down, and you stumble off with burning cheeks.

“Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth…” you mumble, grabbing your water bottle as if it can hide your embarrassment.

Deciding you’ve had enough cardio for the day, you make your way over to the delts machine. You sit down, trying to adjust the handles, but the wait feels stiff, too much, and your arms tremble before you even start.

Suddenly, a cool hand presses against your back.

You jolt forward. “Ah—!”

“Easy,” a husky female voice murmurs.

You turn and nearly forget to breathe. She has burgundy hair tied back in a messy ponytail, a black gym top hugging her toned frame, leggings sculpted to her every move. Her biceps flex as she leans in, a smirk tugging at her lips while her eyes sweep over you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“Let me help you with your posture, yeah?” she says, voice low, teasing.

Your throat goes dry. “O-Oh… uh… sure.”

She adjusts the pin on the weight stack with one hand, the other still lightly pressing your back. “This one’s too heavy for you right now. Let’s set it somewhere you can actually handle.”

Your eyes flicker to her reflection in the mirror—her smirk only deepens as she meets your gaze. She hovers behind you, her breath warm near your ear as she positions your arms.

“Don’t arch too much, honey,” she says softly, placing a firm hand against your lower back.

A shiver races through you, and you nod quickly, trying not to focus on how close she is.

You push the handles open, your delts immediately screaming in protest.

“Ugh—” a groan slips out before you can bite it back.

“Mm, yeah… feels like that, huh?” she whispers, her tone both encouraging and amused.

You try again, your arms trembling. “I—I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” she cuts in firmly, voice dropping just enough to send another shiver down your spine. “Breathe. Push. Just a little more.”

You bite down on your lip, forcing through the burn until the machine finally gives. She pats your back, her hand lingering for a moment, dangerously close to your waistline.

“There you go,” she says smoothly before stepping back. “If you need me, I’ll be up doing abs.”

She winks, then walks away like she hadn’t just unraveled you with a few words.

You sit there stunned, sweat beading on your forehead, heart pounding as if you’d run another treadmill sprint. Shakily, you grab your water, twist the cap open, and gulp, trying to ground yourself.

“Okay… okay, pull yourself together,” you whisper, wiping at your forehead before heading toward the dumbbells.

The free-weight section is louder, heavier—men grunting dramatically, dropping weights like they’re in a competition. You shrink back a little, slipping into a corner, and grab the smallest dumbbells you can find.

“Five pounds. That’s safe,” you mutter, starting with short bicep curls.

After a few reps, confidence sneaks in. You swap for a heavier pair, determined to prove to yourself you can do more. Your rhythm builds, almost forgetting where you are—until a low voice cuts through.

“Hey.”

You jolt, nearly dropping the dumbbell.

Spinning your head, you meet the gaze of another girl. She’s shorter, with straight black hair that falls to her shoulders, bangs framing her face perfectly. Her black top shows off arms just as toned as the burgundy-haired girl’s, but her expression is softer, almost shy.

“Let me help you,” she says gently, stepping closer.

Before you can answer, she takes the dumbbell from your hand with ease. “See, you’re swinging it directly. You gotta slow down on the way up.” She lifts it like it weighs nothing, her bicep flexing beautifully with the motion.

Your eyes can’t help but follow the way her muscles move under her skin, the veins in her forearm bulging slightly as she curls the weight effortlessly.

“Damn,” you chuckle awkwardly, “is it that noticeable I’m new?”

She grins, scratching the back of her neck. “Yeah… hehe… but also, you’re just cute.”

Your eyes widen. “…What?”

Her cheeks flush, and she shakes her head quickly. “N-Nothing. Anyway—come on. Let me see you do it.”

You take the dumbbell back, cheeks warm, and try to mirror her form. Your arms strain as you move slower this time, groaning a little at the burn.

“Slow… slow… and down,” she says softly, stepping closer, her hand lightly brushing your wrist to guide your pace. Her touch lingers, her eyes locked on yours as she corrects you. “There you go, cutie.”

You groan again, focusing, but the sound comes out far too soft, almost needy. She smiles faintly, patting your shoulder with a touch that feels a little too intimate for the setting.

“You got it,” she murmurs, her eyes scanning your flushed face before she steps back, though her gaze trails down your body as she does.

You’re left standing there, dumbbell in hand, but your pulse is racing harder than your workout.

You wipe your palms on your leggings, grab the dumbbells again, and move into position for squats. Shoulders back, chest lifted—you try to repeat what you’ve seen people do on TikTok.

“Careful,” a voice murmurs behind you.

You freeze. That tone—you’d know it anywhere. Turning your head slightly, you catch sight of burgundy hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands clinging to flushed skin. Jihyo.

“You’re leaning too far forward,” she says smoothly, already stepping closer. Her reflection fills the mirror in front of you—confident, steady, utterly unbothered. “Mind if I fix it?”

Before you can answer, another voice cuts through.

“Or I could fix it.”

Your stomach flips. Momo. She strolls in from the side, towel slung over her shoulder, eyes trailing from the dumbbells in your hands to your stance. She tilts her head, bangs falling into her gaze, lips quirking in that lazy smirk that makes your pulse skip.

Jihyo raises a brow, not moving an inch. “Oh? Momo, didn’t know you knew her too.”

Momo shrugs, like it’s nothing, though her smirk deepens. “I was just helping with curls earlier. She’s… enthusiastic.”

“Cute,” Jihyo hums, gaze sliding back to you. Her hand brushes your elbow deliberately. “Guess we’ll share, then.”

Your throat goes dry.

Before you can protest, Jihyo steps right behind you, so close you feel the heat radiating off her. Her chest grazes your back, and her hands skim down your arms before settling firmly on your shoulders.

“Don’t rush it,” she murmurs near your ear, voice low, intimate. “Keep steady.”

And then Momo crouches in front of you, her palms ghosting over your knees before pressing lightly against them. Her eyes flick up to yours, teasing. “Spread out a little more. Don’t cave in—keep them strong.”

You’re caught. Jihyo’s warmth at your back, her hands ghosting along your waist, guiding, owning. Momo’s dark eyes below, smirk tugging at her lips as her fingers urge your knees apart.

“Down slow,” Jihyo whispers, palm gliding down your spine until it rests at your lower back. Her thumb presses deliberately against the dip there.

“Up,” Momo orders softly, her grin widening as she follows the movement of your thighs. “Good… just like that.”

The burn in your muscles intensifies, and when a small groan slips from your lips, both of them react.

Jihyo chuckles low, so close her breath brushes your ear. “Good girl.”

The words hit you like a shock, heat surging to your face.

Your lips part. “W-What did you—”

But before you can finish, Momo snatches your water bottle off the bench. She stands, steps close, and presses the tip against your lips. “Drink,” she says firmly, tilting it until cool water spills into your mouth. Her other hand brushes your chin, steadying you.

You swallow fast, but some dribbles at the corner of your mouth. Momo’s thumb swipes it away, lingering just a second too long.

“That’s better,” she hums, satisfied.

Your chest heaves. You can feel Jihyo still behind you, her fingers brushing your hip as if she doesn’t want to move.

“That was fun,” Momo says lightly, smirk tugging at her mouth as she wipes sweat from her collarbone with her towel.

“Fun enough we should do it again sometime,” Jihyo adds smoothly, her voice like silk as her fingers finally leave your waist—only to trail across your shoulder before pulling away.

You feel their eyes burning into you. Predatory. Expectant.

“I-I think I’m done for today,” you stammer, heart pounding, ducking out from between them like prey slipping free.

Neither of them moves immediately. They just watch you go, slow smirks pulling at their lips as if they already know you’ll be back.

By the time you stumble into the locker room, pulse still racing, you can barely breathe. When you finally make it to your car and slam the door shut, your hands are shaking.

“What the hell was that…” you groan, head hitting the steering wheel.

Reaching for your water bottle, you freeze. Two numbers are scrawled across the plastic in bold marker—one written neatly, the other slightly messy, almost rushed.

Your cheeks burn hotter than the workout ever managed.

“Fuckkkk…”

𝒇𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝒇𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦢་༘࿐

🗡️ ݁ 𓂂 ᥴhᥱrι’ ᥉⠀⠀──

✿ㅤmomo ﹙twice﹚ㅤlockscreen