Discover Top Posts Tagged with #momo twice

I like each position RV member prefers when they want to be bred, can you also make one for twice ?

Nayeon

Nayeon pushes you onto your back, straddling your hips with that bright, teasing grin. She prefers cowgirl when she wants to be bred. She controls the pace, grinds down on you slowly at first to feel every inch stretch her pussy.

You grip her waist as she sinks onto you, her tight heat swallowing your cock whole.

"Fill me up."

She rocks her hips in circles, breasts bouncing with each drop. Her nails rake your chest, urging you deeper. She leans forward, long hair curtaining your faces, kissing you messy while she rides harder.

"I want your cum so bad. Breed me right here."

You thrust up to meet her, hitting that spot that makes her gasp. Her pace quickens, thighs trembling as she chases her high.

"Don't pull out."

She demands, her pussy clenching around you. You feel her pulse, her body begging. One final grind and she has you spilling deep inside her cunt, flooding her. She stays seated, rocking gently to keep every drop in, smirking down at you.

"Good boy."

👼🏻💮🪡✿:·.﹒✚✚ ( ᵕ‿‿ᵕ )

ㅤ ˖°ପ(ू ᴗ͈ˬᴗ)ଓ˚˳ 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚓𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕 ❤︎ 🥯

THE CANDY PEACH ASS

Momo x Male Reader *PIECE OF FICTIONAL WORK*

TAGS: ANAL, EXHIBITION, CUNNINGLING, TEASING, RIMJOB, SENSUAL, ROUGH SEX, SWEAT KINK, BLOWJOB

SYNOPSIS : The girls got off stage, walking back to the dressing room. As they pass by some thing had you (a staff member) picking up your nose, and sniffing the air enjoying the scent. Momo realize this and knew exactly what you wanted. She pealed away from the group and walked in the opposite direction, passing you again, making you turned your head as you were lead by your nose.

3.1K WORDS

(P.S. This was going to be part 2 of one that I already did but got lost with my previous account)

#kpop smut #kpop #kpop fanfic #girl group smut #twice smut #momo twice #momo smut #momo x male reader #male reader #gg smut #twice momo smut #idol x male reader #idol x reader

ꘓ͜͡๑͏⠀⠀❤︎۪*️⃣⠀⠀t𝙷𝚒⳽⠀⠀𝚒⳽⠀⠀𝚏or⠀⠀ദ:ೃ⠀⠀𓏵

🩸( ´‌ ᗨ ‌ )⠀⠀αll⠀⠀ᦒㅤׂㅤ⠀·｡🌀⠀⠀全て🥢私の

⠀my⠀⠀𝚕𝚊𝚍i𝚎s⠀⠀ᐢ᭪.⠀⠀⠀⃞♡🪼⠀⠀wh𓈒o⠀⠀ී𓏼

dꪮn't⠀⠀⋆˚̣̣̣⠀⠀g𝚎𝚝⠀⠀𝙷ყ𝚙ℯ𝚍⠀⠀ー✚⠀⠀𝚎𝚗𖹭𝚞𝚐h

omg have u seen TWICE IN VS?? esp MOHYO🥹🥹 can you pleaseee do any plot with Mohyo? or just momo or jihyo based on their VS Show outfit? 🥹🫶🏻

“Pretty Girls”

tw’s//Dom!Mohyo x Fem!Reader, VSModel!Reader, Threesome, double penetration (r!receiving), fingering, dirty talk, soft dom!Jihyo,slight harsh dom!Momo, light spit play, humiliation, reader is a shy shy shy girl//

—

You’d been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever — maybe even too long. Years of blood, sweat, and tears had finally led you here. You could still remember practicing your walk at rehearsals, the trainers’ sharp eyes following your every move, other models sizing you up like you were a prize they were desperate to steal. You could feel the pressure sitting heavy on your shoulders — but it only made you push harder.

You still remember that call a few months back. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking as your agency’s number lit up your screen. Your stomach twisted into knots, bracing for bad news. But instead, you heard the words that changed everything.

“You made the cut. You’re officially an Angel, Y/N. Welcome to Victoria’s Secret.

You nearly screamed. Well — you did, just not out loud. You had enough sense to mute yourself before kicking your feet in the air, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. The rush hit you all at once, like you could lift off the ground and never come back down.

You won’t lie — it was hard. The endless rehearsals, the forced smiles, the pressure to always be perfect. But every exhausting second was worth it.

Because you did it — you’ve landed a contract with Victoria’s Secret

Rehearsals were brutal, but they were also kind of electric. Every day felt like a blur — heels clacking against the floor, hair flying, trainers shouting over music. You barely had time to breathe between runs, but honestly, that chaos was addicting. There was something about seeing everything slowly come together — the lights, the sets, the energy — it made every late night and sore ankle worth it.

One afternoon during a break, someone mentioned that TWICE was performing this year. You looked up from your water bottle, a little surprised. You’d heard their songs before — a few stuck in your head after scrolling through playlists — but you wouldn’t call yourself a die-hard fan or anything. Still, the room filled up with gossip.

“I heard they were performing with us for the Pink division!“ one of the girls said, practically bouncing.

“Girl, i might pass out,” another laughed, fanning herself rather dramatically.

You just smiled, half-listening, half-daydreaming about what your outfit might look like, Pink was your division after all.

A few days before the show, the costume fittings started. That’s when it really hit you. The rows of glittering lingerie, feathers, crystals, and silk — it was like stepping into another world. Stylists buzzed around with measuring tapes and clipboards, making tiny adjustments that somehow made all the difference.

You caught your reflection in the mirror, dressed head to toe in your look — tiny wings draped behind you, heels higher than your confidence could handle — and for a second, you didn’t even recognize yourself. The nervous laughter, the other models hyping each other up, the constant camera flashes in the background... it all blended into a haze.

Performance day crept up faster than anyone expected. The morning was filled with coffee cups, last-minute touch-ups, some unhealthy amounts of hairspray, and a nervous kind of excitement in the air. The backstage monitor played snippets of soundcheck — TWICE rehearsing their set somewhere beyond the curtains — and the realization sank in: this was it.

You were scrolling through your phone, half awake from how early you had woken up, when you turned a corner and nearly collided with someone.

“Oh my god—!” you gasped, stepping back so fast your foot almost slipped on the polished floor.

The person in front of you caught your arm before you could stumble. “Whoa there,” a soft voice said, a little breathless but playful.

When you looked up, your heart nearly dropped to your stomach. (or maybe your ass)

Four girls stood there, fresh off rehearsal — sweat still glistening on their necks, stray hairs stuck to flushed skin.

You’d seen their names on the event list, sure, you knew they were coming, but seeing them in person was another thing entirely.

Momo was the one holding your arm, her grip gentle but firm. “You okay?” she asked, her voice low, her accent curling around every syllable like honey.

You nodded quickly, forcing a laugh. “Yeah, sorry— wasn’t watching where I was going.”

She let go, but her fingers brushed against your sleeve as she did. A simple movement, but enough to leave a tiny rush running through you.

Next to her, Jihyo gave a small smile — calm, collected, that kind of confidence that didn’t need to be loud to be felt. “Don’t worry, we’re the ones blocking the hallway,” she said, voice warm.

“It’s fine, really,” you replied, tucking your phone into your back pocket, suddenly too aware of every awkward thing you could possibly say.

Tzuyu, somehow even taller and delicate in person, bowed her head slightly. “Y/N, is it? You’re in the show with us, right?” she murmured, shy but polite.

Her tone was so soft it almost didn’t sound real, like if it was cutting right through the noise of backstage, you nodded, the room suddenly heating up as you realized they knew about your mere existence.

And then there was Nayeon — who didn’t say anything at first. She was staring, almost dazed, eyes flicking between your face and the faint shimmer of your body glitter spread across your collarbone and cleavage. When you caught her gaze, she instantly smiled, sheepish.

“We’ll see you there then,” she said, voice light and teasing, “you’re really pretty in person.”

You laughed, nervous and surprised. “Pretty? Says the literal goddess lineup in front of me.”

Momo snorted softly at that, exchanging a quick glance with Jihyo. Jihyo’s smile deepened, and for some reason, it made your chest tighten.

“Careful,” Momo said, tilting her head slightly, “keep talking like that and we might start believing you’re flirting.”

Your mouth opened— and then closed. “Maybe I am,” you joked back before your brain could stop you, the words tumbling out half-sincere.

The small group went quiet for a heartbeat. Then Nayeon giggled, bright and airy, while Tzuyu smiled behind her hand. Even Jihyo gave a soft laugh, though her eyes never left yours.

“Bold,” Jihyo said, clearly amused. “You’ll fit right in with this crowd.”

You tried to play it off, shrugging like your face wasn’t burning. “Gotta keep up somehow.”

You all talked for a few more minutes — light, casual chatter about the show. They mentioned the sound check, how the floor felt different on stage compared to rehearsal, how the lighting was still being tested. Momo stretched mid-conversation, hoodie riding up slightly, and you swore your brain short-circuited for a second.

They were so effortlessly alluring up close — not the polished perfection of a screen, but something raw, more human. You caught little details: Jihyo’s steady focus when she listened, Tzuyu’s small nervous smile, Nayeon’s soft laugh that lingered a bit too long, and Momo’s quiet confidence — the way her eyes found yours every few seconds, like she was trying to figure you out.

And maybe she was.

You stood there trying not to crumble under the weight of it all — four beautiful, intimidating women just existing in front of you like it was nothing. You felt like a small cat that somehow wandered into a den of lionesses — graceful, powerful, and impossibly gorgeous.

A voice suddenly cut through the haze from down the hall.

“Y/N! Outfit and makeup try-on, let’s go!”

You blinked, realizing you’d been staring too long. “Ah— right, yeah.”

You smiled at them, trying to sound composed even though your pulse hadn’t settled since Momo touched your arm. “Guess that’s me. It was… really nice meeting you guys.”

“Likewise,” Jihyo said softly.

“Good luck on your walk, we’ll see you on stage.” Momo added, her tone light but her gaze steady.

“Thanks,” you said, and then immediately ruined your cool by nearly tripping over your own feet when you turned around. You heard a couple quiet laughs behind you — Nayeon’s definitely among them — and you couldn’t help but grin.

You didn’t look back, but you could feel their eyes following you as you walked away, heart pounding like it was trying to break out of your chest.

—

The energy backstage was chaos — good chaos.

Glitter, perfume, camera flashes, last-minute touch-ups, and the smell of an unhealthy amount of hairspray clinging to everything. Stylists swarming around like bees, tugging at straps, fixing curls, whispering things like “you’ve got this” and “remember, smile with your eyes.”

You were in the Pink Division, which meant one thing — TWICE’s stage. The most talked-about set of the entire show. The second the intro beat echoed through the walls, everyone seemed to straighten up, hearts syncing to the rhythm.

You checked your reflection one last time — baby wings shimmering, gloss perfect, heels tight — and exhaled. You weren’t nervous anymore. Just alive.

“Go time!” someone shouted, and the curtain pulled back.

The lights hit you instantly.

A wave of pink and gold washed over the runway, and the crowd roared. You walked out, the beat pulsing through your body like second nature, each step landing in sync with the music. You didn’t think — you became the walk, the rhythm, the fantasy.

TWICE stood on the elevated stage, performing behind you, the melody wrapping around the room. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Momo first — her gaze following you with a faint smirk tugging at her lips, subtle but unmistakable. Then Jihyo — radiant, confident, but her focus shifted mid-verse, locking right on you as you passed. You tried to stay composed, to keep that confident, sultry look, but your heart skipped so hard it almost threw off your pace.

Still, you didn’t falter. You owned it. Every step, every little smile, every glance toward the cameras. The crowd loved it, you could feel it in the air — that collective awe, that hush before the applause.

By the finale, all the models gathered at the front of the stage as TWICE hit their last chorus. The lights dimmed into a soft rose hue, glitter and confetti raining from above, and stagehands hurriedly guided everyone into position for the group pose.

“Y/N, next to Jihyo please!”

You blinked — of course. Out of everyone, her. You moved into place, careful not to trip on the confetti-littered floor. She gave you a quick glance and a soft smile that was pure professionalism… until her hand brushed your waist.

You froze — just for a second. Her touch was light, almost accidental, but it lingered just long enough to make your pulse jump. Then she rested her hand there, casual, perfect for the cameras, posing with a grin that could melt through spotlights.

You tried to mirror it — a practiced, confident smirk — but you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. The flashes went off in a blink of an eye, cheers echoing through the venue. When the lights dimmed again, she removed her hand gently, giving you the faintest nod before turning to wave at the crowd.

As the music faded and everyone began clearing the stage, Karol G’s sultry voice started echoing from the speakers, marking the next line’s entrance. You slipped backstage, still running with adrenaline, glitter clinging to your skin like static.

You sat down for a second, phone in hand, curiosity getting the better of you. Notifications were flooding in — mentions, tags, edits. Your name was trending.

“The new Angel stole the show.”

“Y/N’s walk was unreal.”

“She’s a rookie?? No way.”

And then came the fandom tweets.

ONCEs were already being menaces.

“Why did Jihyo look directly at her while singing ‘Winning is my trademark,‘ part???? HELLOOOOO???”

“Momo wants her so bad I can’t breathe.”

“Nayeon, my GOD be respectful💔”

“She walked like she owned them.”

“Tzuyu blushing in the back I see you girl.”

You covered your mouth, half laughing, half horrified, scrolling through the edits people made minutes after the show ended — zoom-ins, slow-mos, screenshots of Jihyo’s hand on your waist.

You locked your phone and leaned back, still catching your breath, the faint bass of Karol G’s performance thrumming through the walls. You didn’t know if it was adrenaline or something else, but your heart hadn’t calmed down since Jihyo’s touch.

And judging by the internet’s reaction, maybe you weren’t the only one who noticed.

The dressing room was quieter than before — just the hum of conversation down the hall, muffled pop music from another stage, and the soft buzz of your phone lighting up with new notifications. You were still scrolling through all the edits and clips when a knock sounded at your door.

“Come in!” you called, expecting a stylist or assistant until Jihyo and Momo stepped in.

They looked unfairly good up close — still in their performance looks, cheeks flushed, hair a little messy from dancing. You froze for a beat, not expecting them to be standing there, looking like that, which didn’t help your heart rate one bit.

“Wow,” Jihyo said first, closing the door behind them. “That was one hell of a debut, Y/N.”

You blinked. “Oh— thank you. You guys were incredible too, seriously. That crowd was—”

“Loud? Obsessed? Screaming your name halfway through our set?” Momo interrupted, grinning as she dropped onto the couch beside you.

You laughed awkwardly. “I think they were screaming your names.”

Jihyo sat down too, on your other side, close enough that your shoulder brushed hers. The perfume she wore was soft and expensive — something warm, a little floral, a little too distracting. “Mmm, maybe,” she said, smiling knowingly. “But I’m pretty sure we heard a few people lose their minds when you walked by.”

You smiled, suddenly hyperaware of how close she was. “Guess the training paid off.”

Momo leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, her eyes flicking up and down, not in a way that felt creepy — just… observant. Playful. “You really owned that runway. Confident, beautiful. You didn’t even flinch under the lights.”

You smiled shyly. “Had to make it look easy.”

“Well you did so good,” Jihyo said, resting her chin on her hand. “You made it hard to look anywhere else.”

Your brain stuttered. “I— uh, thank you?”

She laughed softly, like she knew exactly what she was doing. You cleared your throat, trying to sound casual. “Shouldn’t you guys be with your members right now?”

Jihyo tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “Oh, they know we’re with you, babe. They can wait.” Your jaw went slack for a second before you caught yourself. “Babe?”

“What?” she teased, grinning wide. “You don’t like nicknames?” Momo nudged you lightly, her voice low but playful. “You’re blushing already.”

“I’m not!” you protested, even though you definitely were.

Momo nudged you lightly again, this time with her knee. “You should’ve seen yourself out there,” she said. “We were all watching from the stage. I think even Nayeon forgot her line for a second.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“She’s not,” Jihyo said. “You really stood out.”

You smiled, a little bashful but proud. “Well, you guys killed it too. The performance was insane — the choreography, the vocals, everything. You made it look effortless.” Momo smirked. “Effortless, huh? You think we look good when we sweat for hours?”

You groaned softly, burying your face in your hands. “Please don’t twist my words.”

“Oh?” Jihyo said, raising an eyebrow. Your mouth opened, then closed. “That’s not what I— I just meant you’re all really talented!”

They both laughed, and your embarrassment only deepened, warmth blooming up your neck. Momo leaned a little closer, voice soft but teasing. “Relax, we’re just messing with you. You’re cute when you get all flustered. You really don’t take compliments well, do you?”

“I do! Just— not when they come from, you know…” you trailed off, motioning vaguely at both of them. “From us?” Jihyo said, her voice lilting with humor.

You swallowed hard. “When they come from pretty girls…” You tried to hide your face with your hands, but Jihyo gently tugged one away, smiling. “Hey, don’t. It’s endearing.”

Your heartbeat was so loud you were sure they could hear it.

Jihyo tilted her head, smiling as she looked you over, breath fanning over your ear “You’re cute when you get shy, yknow?” her voice turned low, husky— hands somehow finding the tiny hairs at the nape of your neck and twirling at them, you squirmed as a shiver ran down your spine, an embarassing heat pooling inbetween your thighs.

Jihyo didn’t move her hand right away. If anything, her thumb traced a lazy line down to your shoulder, like she was testing how far she could push it before you’d stop her. You didn’t. You couldn’t.

Momo caught it immediately, her grin turning into something quieter, sharper. “You’re making her nervous,” she said, though her tone didn’t sound like she wanted Jihyo to stop.

“Am I?” Jihyo murmured, her voice dipping, the kind that didn’t need to rise above a whisper to make your stomach twist.

You exhaled, barely a laugh. “A little.”

“Good,” she said simply, smiling like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Momo leaned in from your other side, her arm pressing lightly against yours. “Don’t tease her too much,” she said to Jihyo, though the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her. “You’ll scare the poor thing off.”

Jihyo’s eyes didn’t leave yours. “She doesn’t look scared to me, she seems like she likes it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing coherent came out—just a shaky laugh that only made them smile wider.

Jihyo leaned in closer, her breath brushing just behind your ear as she spoke, voice quiet enough that it made the moment feel secret. “You’re still shaking,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Your words caught somewhere in your throat. “I’m not—”

“You are,” she whispered, amusement softening her tone. Her hand found the side of your neck, just resting there — steady, grounding, but still enough to send a shiver through you. The warmth of her palm against your skin made it impossible to think straight. Before you could respond, her lips pressed lightly to your neck, a quick, bold kiss that made your heart jump. You froze, cheeks burning, caught somewhere between shock and arousal.

Momo laughed softly from your other side, fingertips brushing a stray hair from your face. “She’s just shy,” she said, voice light, teasing. “You’re scaring her a little, Ji.”

Jihyo hummed like she was considering that, but didn’t move away, lips pressing a soft wet trail of kisses on your neck and behind your ear. “Then maybe she should tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

You sat perfectly still, eyes wide, trying not to give away how flustered you were. Momo’s hand lingered on your cheek for a second longer than necessary, her thumb tracing absent little circles against your skin.

“See?” she said quietly, smiling. “She doesn’t want you to.”

Jihyo’s laugh was soft, a low hum that seemed to vibrate through the space between you. “Didn’t think so.”

Your pulse was racing now, the quiet of the room somehow louder than anything outside. You could feel both of them there — close enough that every breath felt like it belonged to all three of you.

Jihyo’s lips pressed lightly against your neck again, leaving a sloppy open mouthed kiss that made your knees go weak. You froze, cheeks burning, unable to form words.

Before you could even react, Momo leaned in from the other side, her lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss just at the corner of your mouth. You felt trapped in the best and worst way possible—two of them, so close, warm, teasing, and impossible to ignore.

Jihyo’s soft laugh tickled your ear. “Look at you, baby” she murmured, voice low, husky, amused. “So needy already.”

Momo grinned against your lips, pulling back just slightly to let you breathe, though her hand lingered gently against your cheek. “So fucking adorable like this,” she whispered, eyes sparkling with mischief.

You tried to speak, but all that came out was a shaky, throaty whine you didn’t even know you were holding

Jihyo pressed closer again, her shoulder brushing yours. “Mm? what was that, baby?” she said, voice a soft command that made your pulse skip. “Was that pretty noise for us, darling?.”

You couldn’t think. All you could feel was the warmth, the closeness, the unrelenting tension that made your chest tight and your mind spin. Jihyo finally reached up to grope your chest, her thumb teasing the clothed skin on your chest, her kisses turning messier. Momo’s eagerness taking over and capturing your lips in a messy kiss you were quick to reciprocate, her teeth tugging at your bottom lip before releasing it with a soft plop that made a needy whimper leave your lips.

“Gosh, i bet you’re so wet already…” Jihyo smirked agaisnt your skin, you weren’t saying anything, but she knew—she knew by the way you subconsciously inched towards them, how your skin grew hotter with every nip at your flush skin, how you swallowed hard; trying to hold back every groan, every whine, trying to hold back that facade that you didn’t want the both of them to ruin you in that exact second.

She knew you were gonna crack soon.

Her hand inched down your thigh, and you spread them almost immediately, a low chuckle leaving Jihyo’s throat before she nipped at your earlobe with her teeth, “So fucking easy.”

Jihyo’s fingers reached down further and played around with your clothed center, fingers tracing up and down your slit — feeling the warmth, the humidity, every little twitch and clench from your cunt. Momo was quick to slide her hands up your torso, hands going to grope and knead your breasts, thumb rolling on your concealed nipple, feeling it harden underneath the thin fabric.

Every little touch was like a jolt of electricity surging through you, and when Jihyo dipped her fingers slightly down ur waistband, you felt like you could explode. “Can i take it off, Pretty?” she asked, toying with the band of your shorts, smirk cruel and teasing. Momo groaned as she bit down gently on your shoulder “Just shut up and take it off her already.” she squeezed slightly harder on your chest, almost as if they helped take out the pent up frustration. “Patient Momoring,” she sighed out before slowly slipping the shorts off you.

“Damn pretty girl..” she bit her lip and looked up with a smile “You’re fucking soaked, Y/N.. who knew we could make you like this.” she traced circles on your inner thigh, feeling them tense up. Momo giggled, slowly undoing the buttons to your silk victoria secret robe, her touch gentle as she felt your breath get heavier and heavier—

You were now in a tank top and underwear, a wet patch slowly leaking out and staining your lingerie, Jihyo collected the slick with her fingers before bringing them to Momo’s lips, leaving you pressed between them; Jihyo biting her lip as she left Momo’s warm saliva and tongue running along her pointer and middle finger.

She pulled off with a pop before pushing off the couch and onto the knees on the floor, you panicked and reached for a pillow, pushing it aside so she could cushion her knees. “Aw, so considerate, baby.” she giggled as she tugged at your underwear, groaning at the smell of your musk, your clit swollen and slightly leaking out of your folds. She pressed a kiss to your thigh.

Momo shifted and pressed herself behind you, positioning you between her legs, she reached down, her finger brushing your clitoris lightly, you yelped and jolted forward and she practically smacked your mouth. “Needy fucking girl can’t keep her mouth shut huh?” she rolled her eyes, rubbing your clit in figure eights, adding pressure into it.

Jihyo sat back and groaned at the sight, and as much as she wanted to savor the moment infront of her, she wanted to ruin you too. She leaned forward and spread your folds, the slick parting in strings as she eyed your clenching hole, slowly pushing the tip of her two fingers in, the amount of stimulation making you let out a throaty moan, your voice cracking as Momo pressed down onto your mouth further, muffling more of your noises.

You squirmed, eyes slammed shut and back arched against Momo’s chest as she rubbed you hard, Jihyo thrusting her fingers in an out at the right pace. “Good fucking girl.” Momo growled out, pressing harder and biting down onto your neck, hard, but not hard enough to bruise— she knew your body was your instrument anyways.

Every little touch felt so good, too good, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you hicced into Momo’s hand, walls clenching and squeezing Jihyo’s fingers like a vice, head thrown back as your hands and nails digged into the couch cushing as if it was the only thing holding you together.

Your noises grew louder and the shame only decreased by the second—Momo’s hand could only do so much to muffle your groans, and your saliva was already coating her palm.

“Fuck.” she bit her cheek annoyed as she pulled off, her hands now doing double the work and the hand that was covering your mouth now pushing past Jihyo’s and sliding inside your cunt alongside Jihyo’s, now matching Jihyo’s pace as both of their fingers pumped inside you, Momo’s left hand rubbing harshly on your clit.

You screamed, head thrown back as you tried to push off, it felt like too much—way too much, but fuck.. it felt so good. Tears streamed down your face as you subconsciously spread your legs wider, the climax forming little by little as that pressure in your stomach spread more.

“Gonna cum for us, princess? Our pretty angel is gonna make a mess all over the couch and our fingers.” Jihyo pressed deeper before telling Momo to curl her fingers up, her fingertips toying and pressing into your Gspot, and you came.

Your vision turned white, you felt so light headed as you climaxed, the wave of dopamine rushing over you as your juices poured out everywhere, on Momo’s knuckles, Jihyo’s fingers, and coating the auburn colored cushion. They helped you ride your high, their touch turning gentle as they guided you through your orgasm, “That’s our girl.” Jihyo cooed before slowly pulling out, the sensation earning a tiny groan, Momo doing same.

There was a rather odd silence after before Momo spoke up “Are you uhm… okay..” she looked away, almost as if she didn’t just make sure you weren’t gonna be able to walk for the weekend. You were so spent you could only croak out a tiny grumble, Jihyo helped you get your clothes back on as Momo traced circles on your back, pressing tiny kisses to your nape.

“We have to go now, but don’t think this is a one time thing.” Jihyo replied as she wiped the sweat casually off her forehead, slamming down two phone numbers on the coffee table infront of the couch before walking towards the door, Momo following along before turning around and speaking up,

“Well be watching you, baby.”

The body of Twice

#Momo Twice #Twice #Twice Momo

Kinktober 2025 | Day 25: Double Penetration

(Momo x Male OC)

The Hôtel Marais sat like a velvet secret between narrow Parisian alleys, its awning slick with afternoon rain.

Momo stepped from the town car with her chin high, suitcase trailing behind like a reluctant child. She wore oversized sunglasses despite the gray sky, lips still smudged from airport wine. Her blouse clung damply to her spine. A concierge greeted her with a practiced smile, but it was the two bellboys hovering behind him who caught her eye.

Emil—tall, lean, with hollow cheekbones and a mouth made for dangerous ideas. Luca—broader, slower-moving, eyes darker than the Seine, sleeves rolled just high enough to suggest strength without showing it. They exchanged a glance behind her luggage and said nothing.

“Mademoiselle Momo,” the concierge purred. “Welcome. Room six-fourteen.”

She nodded, and let the bellboys take her things.

The elevator was silent but intimate. Emil stood behind her. Luca at her side. The space felt warmer than it should. By the time the lift reached the sixth floor, the silence had turned from awkward to sharp-edged.

Her heels clicked against the hallway's plush runner until they reached her door.

“We'll bring your bags inside,” Emil said. Not a question.

She opened the door. The suite was soft gold and clean lines, with sheer curtains that rippled from the breeze of a cracked window. Momo stepped in, and when she turned to thank them, the latch clicked.

The door had closed. Luca stood in front of it. Emil stood still by her suitcase, now inside. Neither moved.

Her throat tightened. "What the hell are you doing?"

Emil answered too slowly. "You opened the door."