kpopv fills [girl's day, hello venus, spica]
switch me on, turn me up
girl's day, minah/yura, nc-17, ~880 words
volleyball au, pwp
notes: originally posted here.
The metal of the locker is cold against Ahyoung's bare shoulders when Minah pushes her up against it. Ahyoung jolts forward slightly, but Minah's mouth is already on her neck, warm and wanting, her fingers gripping Ahyoung's hips just this side of too hard.
"Anyone could walk in," Ahyoung manages to gasp out, without conviction. She glances toward the entrance of the locker room and wonders if hooking up with your volleyball-teammate-sometimes-fuckbuddy in public still counts as indecent exposure if most of your clothes are still on.
"First show's for free," Minah mumbles into the juncture between Ahyoung's neck and shoulder. She bites, not gently, and Ahyoung huffs, half laugh and half gasp of pain. "Gym closes in fifteen minutes and everyone else is gone, nobody's walking in."
"But they could," Ahyoung says, just to be a brat.
Minah pulls back slightly and grins, eyes curving. The fingers of her right hand dip underneath the waistband of Ahyoung's shorts. "Yeah. Well."
"Of course that gets you off, you freak," Ahyoung says, but heat is pooling low in her belly and the slide of Minah's skin against Ahyoung's takes on an even sharper edge than usual. Ahyoung figures Minah might have a point.
Minah's leg slots in between Ahyoung's and she automatically cants her hips, going for friction, but Minah moves back and presses Ahyoung's hips back against the locker more firmly. Ahyoung can feel Minah's grin against the skin of her shoulder.
"Minah." Ahyoung tugs at Minah's hair, petulant. Her other hand slides up to tug at Minah's sports bra. "We don't have time--"
Minah kisses her then, and Ahyoung should hate it when Minah shuts her up like this, but she can't find it in her to complain about the wet and dirty slide of Minah's tongue against hers, the lingering taste of Minah's spearmint gum. Minah runs her fingers down from Ahyoung's hips and presses her fingers against a bruise on Ahyoung's thigh, dark rings of purple and green sneaking just underneath the fabric of her shorts. Ahyoung shivers.
"C'mon," Ahyoung says when they pull apart. "You said fifteen minutes."
Minah tugs Ahyoung's shorts down just slightly, teasingly. "Bet I can finish you off in five."
Ahyoung rolls her eyes and makes a show of looking at the wall clock. "Yeah? Timer's going."
Minah drops to her knees with a thunk that makes Ahyoung wince, but Minah's already pulling down Ahyoung's shorts and panties and staring up at Ahyoung with an expression that makes Ahyoung's mouth go a little dry. She hopes she doesn't look as pathetically turned on as she feels.
Minah tackles sex like she does volleyball: enthusiastically. Determined. A little reckless. Minah doesn't waste any time shoving Ahyoung's thighs apart and licking a stripe up from Ahyoung's cunt to her clit before taking it between her lips and sucking harshly, and Ahyoung has to bite down on her own fist to stay quiet, the back of her head hitting the metal of the locker. She bucks her hips, trying to get closer, sparks travelling up from somewhere beneath her belly to coalesce behind her eyes, but Minah just squeezes Ahyoung's thighs and holds them still.
"So needy," Minah murmurs against the skin on the inside of Ahyoung's thigh. She releases one side of Ahyoung's hips to run her hand down to Ahyoung's folds, barely a touch to her clit before slipping two fingers inside of her, crooking against her inner walls the way she knows Ahyoung likes. Ahyoung shudders, and when she glances down, Minah's mouth is quirked up into the same grin she'd had when she'd first turned to Ahyoung during post-game celebratory drinks and asked her how she felt about body shots.
Ahyoung, because she's keyed up and likes the way Minah reacts when she pushes, says, "Four minutes."
Minah only responds by inserting a third finger, now fucking her in earnest, the slide of it wet and slick and pornographic. Ahyoung groans, too loud in the empty room, and lets her hand fall to grip Minah's hair. She pulls at it roughly and Minah circles Ahyoung's clit with her tongue, alternately slow and quick and soft and hard and it makes Ahyoung's thighs start to shake because Minah is secretly some she-devil out of Ahyoung's worst wet dreams.
"Fuck," Ahyoung says, bucking up into Minah's mouth, unimpeded this time because Minah has dropped her other hand from Ahyoung's hip to work herself in her own shorts, and somehow, this -- Minah on her knees getting herself off because she's getting Ahyoung off -- somehow it's hotter than everything else.
Ahyoung comes a minute later, eyes screwed shut and biting down hard on her lower lip while Minah works her clit until it starts to sting and Ahyoung has to push her off.
"Jesus." Ahyoung takes in deep, steadying breaths. Minah gets up to her feet and cocks her head, grinning, and Ahyoung takes a minute to make sure she's in control of her limbs before she shoves half-heartedly at Minah's shoulder. "Six points."
"Oh, come on," Minah says with a pout, letting herself fall against Ahyoung's chest. "That was at least an eight."
"Nah." Ahyoung pulls Minah in closer and bites at the shell of her ear. "No finesse."
"Maybe, then," Minah whispers, voice low and pupils blown, "I need someone to show me how it's done."
Ahyoung smiles, leaning down down to taste the salt on Minah's neck. "Maybe."
burn it out faster
hello venus, nara/yooyoung, pg, ~500 words
revenge au
notes: originally posted here.
Everything seems smaller when she comes back.
Yooyoung knows, relatively, everything is smaller. She's not nine. Now, her limbs would hang off the edges of the bed her father had bought for her, the Wonder Woman sheets they'd picked out together. She stands at the window looking out onto the beach and her chin doesn't hit the sill.
Next door, the Kwon house casts its shadow over her porch, looming as grand and magnificent as it ever has. Yooyoung looks up at it and thinks of the box beneath her floorboards, her father's journals, the gun. The years she spent without a real word to anyone. The slow burn inside her chest that finally blazed up into sharp, hot focus when she read the truth -- the people who had betrayed her father, had let an innocent man die in prison.
Yooyoung looks up at the Kwon house, and thinks of how many pieces something might shatter into when falling from a great height.
---
She has a seventy-page folder on Nara Kwon's life and a fistful of memories: the sun turning their skin hot and pink as they learn to swim together, hide and seek in the vast expanse of the Kwon summer home, shared slices of apple pie beneath the shade of a gazebo. Yooyoung tucks these things behind academic records and charity event photos, and carefully doesn't expect much of anything when she slides her foot out and Nara accidentally trips and spills punch all over Yooyoung's silk chiffon morning dress.
"Oh, no, my god," Nara gasps, reeling back, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry, oh my god, here, let me--" She grabs some napkins to mop ineffectually at the stain on Yooyoung's dress, but the damage is done.
"Hey, don't worry," Yooyoung says, shaking her head and offering her most disarming smile. "Seriously, I'll just--" She takes a proffered napkin, dabbing at her dress. "It's just punch, you didn't kill my dog, I'll just head home and change."
"No, I--" Nara bites her lip. "The luncheon starts in fifteen minutes. Do you have time?"
Yooyoung considers. She probably doesn't. "Um."
"I've got a spare dress stored at the AV station, I think you'd fit?" Nara's fingers flutter nervously, one hand still clutching a wad of napkins.
"The AV station?" Yooyoung arches an eyebrow.
"My mother," Nara says, waving her hand vaguely toward the front where the screens have been set up. "She's throwing this shindig, we keep extra stuff just in case."
"Ah, so you're an illustrious Kwon," Yooyoung says, tone light.
Nara laughs. Her cheeks flush a dusty pink, and her lips pull wide and cheerful. It's pretty. "Yeah. Hope I haven't sullied my family's name with you already."
Yooyoung grins, eyes curving. "Never."
When Yooyoung stands to let Nara lead her to the AV station, she looks across the garden and catches Nara's mother's eyes. They reflect nothing but the glimmer of sunlight, easy but distant cordiality. She nods at Yooyoung.
Yooyoung straightens her shoulders and smiles back with teeth.
feels good, close your eyes
spica, bohyung/jiwon, g, ~550 words
jiwon is a fairy who lives in the forest where bohyung jogs
notes: originally posted here.
It takes the girl two weeks of Jiwon trailing after her before she notices. Jiwon can tell because her shoulders go tense and her pace, usually steady to the beat of whatever is leaking out tinnily from her earphones, wavers. She sneaks glances over her shoulder at the area where Jiwon is hovering.
Jiwon risks floating closer. She shouldn't be much more than translucent mist to a typical human, even one looking closely, but her glamour's effectiveness decreases the farther she gets from her tree, and today the girl's path cuts nearly to the edge of the forest.
It takes a few seconds, but abruptly the girl stops, nearly trips over own feet in her haste to turn around.
Ah, Jiwon thinks. Too close.
"Is... Is someone there?" she says hesitantly, pulling out her earphones. A woman's voice blasts from the buds, too distorted to identify, but Jiwon thinks she remembers the tune. Something from the last time Juhyun had invaded her tree and forced her to listen to human radio for nearly three hours. ("It's culturing," she'd said, but Jiwon's pretty sure she just wanted someone she could rain flower petals on while she belted along to every melancholy ballad. Half-fairies get weird sometimes.)
Jiwon looks at the girl's furrowed brow and considers doing this the traditional way, three riddles and all, but the girl looks halfway to bolting and Jiwon figures the venerated mystique of fairy kind will survive if she dispenses with ceremony today.
"Hi," she says, dropping the mist and settling onto the ground. She tries for a smile, brings two fingers up in a V-shape. "I'm Jiwon."
The girl's mouth drops open. Silence stretches out between them, beneath the sound of leaves rustling and a swallow chirping. After a minute, Jiwon puts her hand down.
She scuffs at the ground with her foot and stares somewhere generally left. "So," she says. Maybe she should have gone with the riddles. Can't go wrong with ancient icebreakers.
"Um." The girl's voice is slow, halting. "Hi?"
Jiwon tilts her head, hands behind her back. "Hiya. What's your name?"
"Bohyung," she says after a moment. "Who... How..." She shakes her head. "What the heck?"
"Yeah, I get that a lot." Jiwon grins. "I'm a wood fairy. Pleased to meet you."
"You're a..." Bohyung blinks, takes a solid three seconds to process. "That's. Okay."
"You passed by my tree a couple weeks ago," Jiwon offers. "You stopped to tie your shoelaces. You were singing."
Bohyung frowns. Jiwon thinks, distantly, it's pretty cute. "Oh."
"I just wanted to hear it again," Jiwon says, cheeks suddenly flushing, and turns to walk to a nearby tree and settle against it. "Not much luck, though."
"I'm... sorry," Bohyung says, and her laugh is somewhere between disbelief and bewilderment. "You. You could've asked?"
Jiwon ducks her head and laughs into her hand. "I guess I'm asking now?"
Bohyung smiles, shoulders loosening. "What do you want to hear?"
"How about what you were listening to?"
Bohyung glances down at her music player. The song's moved on, but she only pauses it. "Alright."
Jiwon takes a seat at the base of the tree and looks up. From this angle, the sun silhouettes Bohyung's frame like the forest canopy at noon. The first notes of Bohyung's voice are smooth, low. Feather down soft.
Jiwon closes her eyes.
girl's day, minah/yura, nc-17, ~880 words
volleyball au, pwp
notes: originally posted here.
The metal of the locker is cold against Ahyoung's bare shoulders when Minah pushes her up against it. Ahyoung jolts forward slightly, but Minah's mouth is already on her neck, warm and wanting, her fingers gripping Ahyoung's hips just this side of too hard.
"Anyone could walk in," Ahyoung manages to gasp out, without conviction. She glances toward the entrance of the locker room and wonders if hooking up with your volleyball-teammate-sometimes-fuckbuddy in public still counts as indecent exposure if most of your clothes are still on.
"First show's for free," Minah mumbles into the juncture between Ahyoung's neck and shoulder. She bites, not gently, and Ahyoung huffs, half laugh and half gasp of pain. "Gym closes in fifteen minutes and everyone else is gone, nobody's walking in."
"But they could," Ahyoung says, just to be a brat.
Minah pulls back slightly and grins, eyes curving. The fingers of her right hand dip underneath the waistband of Ahyoung's shorts. "Yeah. Well."
"Of course that gets you off, you freak," Ahyoung says, but heat is pooling low in her belly and the slide of Minah's skin against Ahyoung's takes on an even sharper edge than usual. Ahyoung figures Minah might have a point.
Minah's leg slots in between Ahyoung's and she automatically cants her hips, going for friction, but Minah moves back and presses Ahyoung's hips back against the locker more firmly. Ahyoung can feel Minah's grin against the skin of her shoulder.
"Minah." Ahyoung tugs at Minah's hair, petulant. Her other hand slides up to tug at Minah's sports bra. "We don't have time--"
Minah kisses her then, and Ahyoung should hate it when Minah shuts her up like this, but she can't find it in her to complain about the wet and dirty slide of Minah's tongue against hers, the lingering taste of Minah's spearmint gum. Minah runs her fingers down from Ahyoung's hips and presses her fingers against a bruise on Ahyoung's thigh, dark rings of purple and green sneaking just underneath the fabric of her shorts. Ahyoung shivers.
"C'mon," Ahyoung says when they pull apart. "You said fifteen minutes."
Minah tugs Ahyoung's shorts down just slightly, teasingly. "Bet I can finish you off in five."
Ahyoung rolls her eyes and makes a show of looking at the wall clock. "Yeah? Timer's going."
Minah drops to her knees with a thunk that makes Ahyoung wince, but Minah's already pulling down Ahyoung's shorts and panties and staring up at Ahyoung with an expression that makes Ahyoung's mouth go a little dry. She hopes she doesn't look as pathetically turned on as she feels.
Minah tackles sex like she does volleyball: enthusiastically. Determined. A little reckless. Minah doesn't waste any time shoving Ahyoung's thighs apart and licking a stripe up from Ahyoung's cunt to her clit before taking it between her lips and sucking harshly, and Ahyoung has to bite down on her own fist to stay quiet, the back of her head hitting the metal of the locker. She bucks her hips, trying to get closer, sparks travelling up from somewhere beneath her belly to coalesce behind her eyes, but Minah just squeezes Ahyoung's thighs and holds them still.
"So needy," Minah murmurs against the skin on the inside of Ahyoung's thigh. She releases one side of Ahyoung's hips to run her hand down to Ahyoung's folds, barely a touch to her clit before slipping two fingers inside of her, crooking against her inner walls the way she knows Ahyoung likes. Ahyoung shudders, and when she glances down, Minah's mouth is quirked up into the same grin she'd had when she'd first turned to Ahyoung during post-game celebratory drinks and asked her how she felt about body shots.
Ahyoung, because she's keyed up and likes the way Minah reacts when she pushes, says, "Four minutes."
Minah only responds by inserting a third finger, now fucking her in earnest, the slide of it wet and slick and pornographic. Ahyoung groans, too loud in the empty room, and lets her hand fall to grip Minah's hair. She pulls at it roughly and Minah circles Ahyoung's clit with her tongue, alternately slow and quick and soft and hard and it makes Ahyoung's thighs start to shake because Minah is secretly some she-devil out of Ahyoung's worst wet dreams.
"Fuck," Ahyoung says, bucking up into Minah's mouth, unimpeded this time because Minah has dropped her other hand from Ahyoung's hip to work herself in her own shorts, and somehow, this -- Minah on her knees getting herself off because she's getting Ahyoung off -- somehow it's hotter than everything else.
Ahyoung comes a minute later, eyes screwed shut and biting down hard on her lower lip while Minah works her clit until it starts to sting and Ahyoung has to push her off.
"Jesus." Ahyoung takes in deep, steadying breaths. Minah gets up to her feet and cocks her head, grinning, and Ahyoung takes a minute to make sure she's in control of her limbs before she shoves half-heartedly at Minah's shoulder. "Six points."
"Oh, come on," Minah says with a pout, letting herself fall against Ahyoung's chest. "That was at least an eight."
"Nah." Ahyoung pulls Minah in closer and bites at the shell of her ear. "No finesse."
"Maybe, then," Minah whispers, voice low and pupils blown, "I need someone to show me how it's done."
Ahyoung smiles, leaning down down to taste the salt on Minah's neck. "Maybe."
burn it out faster
hello venus, nara/yooyoung, pg, ~500 words
revenge au
notes: originally posted here.
Everything seems smaller when she comes back.
Yooyoung knows, relatively, everything is smaller. She's not nine. Now, her limbs would hang off the edges of the bed her father had bought for her, the Wonder Woman sheets they'd picked out together. She stands at the window looking out onto the beach and her chin doesn't hit the sill.
Next door, the Kwon house casts its shadow over her porch, looming as grand and magnificent as it ever has. Yooyoung looks up at it and thinks of the box beneath her floorboards, her father's journals, the gun. The years she spent without a real word to anyone. The slow burn inside her chest that finally blazed up into sharp, hot focus when she read the truth -- the people who had betrayed her father, had let an innocent man die in prison.
Yooyoung looks up at the Kwon house, and thinks of how many pieces something might shatter into when falling from a great height.
---
She has a seventy-page folder on Nara Kwon's life and a fistful of memories: the sun turning their skin hot and pink as they learn to swim together, hide and seek in the vast expanse of the Kwon summer home, shared slices of apple pie beneath the shade of a gazebo. Yooyoung tucks these things behind academic records and charity event photos, and carefully doesn't expect much of anything when she slides her foot out and Nara accidentally trips and spills punch all over Yooyoung's silk chiffon morning dress.
"Oh, no, my god," Nara gasps, reeling back, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry, oh my god, here, let me--" She grabs some napkins to mop ineffectually at the stain on Yooyoung's dress, but the damage is done.
"Hey, don't worry," Yooyoung says, shaking her head and offering her most disarming smile. "Seriously, I'll just--" She takes a proffered napkin, dabbing at her dress. "It's just punch, you didn't kill my dog, I'll just head home and change."
"No, I--" Nara bites her lip. "The luncheon starts in fifteen minutes. Do you have time?"
Yooyoung considers. She probably doesn't. "Um."
"I've got a spare dress stored at the AV station, I think you'd fit?" Nara's fingers flutter nervously, one hand still clutching a wad of napkins.
"The AV station?" Yooyoung arches an eyebrow.
"My mother," Nara says, waving her hand vaguely toward the front where the screens have been set up. "She's throwing this shindig, we keep extra stuff just in case."
"Ah, so you're an illustrious Kwon," Yooyoung says, tone light.
Nara laughs. Her cheeks flush a dusty pink, and her lips pull wide and cheerful. It's pretty. "Yeah. Hope I haven't sullied my family's name with you already."
Yooyoung grins, eyes curving. "Never."
When Yooyoung stands to let Nara lead her to the AV station, she looks across the garden and catches Nara's mother's eyes. They reflect nothing but the glimmer of sunlight, easy but distant cordiality. She nods at Yooyoung.
Yooyoung straightens her shoulders and smiles back with teeth.
feels good, close your eyes
spica, bohyung/jiwon, g, ~550 words
jiwon is a fairy who lives in the forest where bohyung jogs
notes: originally posted here.
It takes the girl two weeks of Jiwon trailing after her before she notices. Jiwon can tell because her shoulders go tense and her pace, usually steady to the beat of whatever is leaking out tinnily from her earphones, wavers. She sneaks glances over her shoulder at the area where Jiwon is hovering.
Jiwon risks floating closer. She shouldn't be much more than translucent mist to a typical human, even one looking closely, but her glamour's effectiveness decreases the farther she gets from her tree, and today the girl's path cuts nearly to the edge of the forest.
It takes a few seconds, but abruptly the girl stops, nearly trips over own feet in her haste to turn around.
Ah, Jiwon thinks. Too close.
"Is... Is someone there?" she says hesitantly, pulling out her earphones. A woman's voice blasts from the buds, too distorted to identify, but Jiwon thinks she remembers the tune. Something from the last time Juhyun had invaded her tree and forced her to listen to human radio for nearly three hours. ("It's culturing," she'd said, but Jiwon's pretty sure she just wanted someone she could rain flower petals on while she belted along to every melancholy ballad. Half-fairies get weird sometimes.)
Jiwon looks at the girl's furrowed brow and considers doing this the traditional way, three riddles and all, but the girl looks halfway to bolting and Jiwon figures the venerated mystique of fairy kind will survive if she dispenses with ceremony today.
"Hi," she says, dropping the mist and settling onto the ground. She tries for a smile, brings two fingers up in a V-shape. "I'm Jiwon."
The girl's mouth drops open. Silence stretches out between them, beneath the sound of leaves rustling and a swallow chirping. After a minute, Jiwon puts her hand down.
She scuffs at the ground with her foot and stares somewhere generally left. "So," she says. Maybe she should have gone with the riddles. Can't go wrong with ancient icebreakers.
"Um." The girl's voice is slow, halting. "Hi?"
Jiwon tilts her head, hands behind her back. "Hiya. What's your name?"
"Bohyung," she says after a moment. "Who... How..." She shakes her head. "What the heck?"
"Yeah, I get that a lot." Jiwon grins. "I'm a wood fairy. Pleased to meet you."
"You're a..." Bohyung blinks, takes a solid three seconds to process. "That's. Okay."
"You passed by my tree a couple weeks ago," Jiwon offers. "You stopped to tie your shoelaces. You were singing."
Bohyung frowns. Jiwon thinks, distantly, it's pretty cute. "Oh."
"I just wanted to hear it again," Jiwon says, cheeks suddenly flushing, and turns to walk to a nearby tree and settle against it. "Not much luck, though."
"I'm... sorry," Bohyung says, and her laugh is somewhere between disbelief and bewilderment. "You. You could've asked?"
Jiwon ducks her head and laughs into her hand. "I guess I'm asking now?"
Bohyung smiles, shoulders loosening. "What do you want to hear?"
"How about what you were listening to?"
Bohyung glances down at her music player. The song's moved on, but she only pauses it. "Alright."
Jiwon takes a seat at the base of the tree and looks up. From this angle, the sun silhouettes Bohyung's frame like the forest canopy at noon. The first notes of Bohyung's voice are smooth, low. Feather down soft.
Jiwon closes her eyes.