Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What the fuck do you mean you’ve never had sex?!”

Just about the whole cafe turns to look at their table. It’s times like this that Jimin wishes she’d gone for her childhood dream of being a racecar driver instead of going to college. Then, she wouldn’t have met the pain in the ass that is her best friend.

“Thanks for that, Aeri,” she says once people inevitably go back to minding their own business. “Why don’t you write the papers about it? Or call up a news station? That’d be a more effective way to get the word out.”

Aeri has the decency to look apologetic, but presses on regardless. “We’ve been friends for years and you never told me you’re a virgin. And I tell you everything about my sex life. I’m not just surprised, but a little offended, too.” 

“Who said anything about being a virgin?” Jimin asks. Aeri makes a confused face, so she elaborates. “I’ve— done stuff.”

She has. In her late high school years and as a freshman undergrad before she threw herself into her studies. A blowjob here, a handjob there, and of course always returning the favor—which does count as sex to her. She’s just never… gone all the way. She doesn’t really know why.

“You’re a virgin until you put your dick in someone’s hole,” Aeri replies, not too loud but loud enough to turn a few faces again and make Jimin fear they might (rightfully) get kicked out from this establishment. 

“I’m gonna shove my dick up your hole if you don’t learn to keep your goddamn voice down,” she hisses. The mischievous grin on her best friend’s face makes her regret it immediately.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Aeri says, and Jimin rolls her eyes. Every time. “So what have you done?”

“If you think I’m gonna detail my intimate life to you while we’re sitting in a crowded coffee shop, you’re out of your damn mind. And quit being nosy, will you?”

“Excuse me if I’m shocked to find out that my best friend of six years is a 25-year-old virgin.”

Jimin crosses her arms under her chest and leans back on her chair. “Virginity is an outdated social construct invented by the patriarchy to facilitate the oppression of women. I will not play into these predatory ideals.”

“Fair point, but if anyone else hears you saying that in this context, prepare to become the resident loser virgin for the rest of your life,” Aeri says. “How the hell have you not gone all the way? Why? I know it’s not from lack of options—I saw the hot pieces of ass that threw themselves at you back on campus.”

Jimin sighs, and takes a sip from the half-empty iced coffee to her right. A necessary prerequisite to deal with Aeri.

“I don’t have the time to waste on trivial things like that, Aeri. A master’s degree doesn’t just complete itself, does it? Why pay for higher education just to not learn anything because I’m too busy sleeping around?”

Aeri rolls her eyes. “God, you are a loser. Babe, I swear there’s no harm in having a little bit of carnal fun in between sessions of fucking your beloved textbooks.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“He’d love your commitment to abstinence, yes.”

She grabs a sugar packet from the table and throws it at Aeri, who only laughs when it hits her in the collarbone.

“I’m not abstinent, you animal. I’m just— I’m not a sexual person, I don’t know. I don’t see why rush it. It doesn't bother me that I haven’t gone all the way.”

“Well, it bothers me, and that’s what matters most,” Aeri says, leaning in over the table. “We have to get your cherry popped.”

“Oh my God.”

Aeri pulls her phone out of her pocket and Jimin wishes she’d slept through her alarm this morning. “I’m gonna get you laid, my friend.”

“Aeri, please put the phone down. What are you doing?”

Jimin knows it’s useless, so she doesn’t try to do anything about it. Only groans and hides her face in her hands, because Aeri is as stoppable as a thousand-ton boulder falling downhill when she sets her mind to something.

“I’m gonna find someone to deflower you.”

“God, I— I’ve always wondered what it’d feel like to hit you across the head with a really rusty metal pipe. I think right now would be a great time to find the fuck out.”

“You’ll thank me when you’ve been thoroughly introduced to the mind-blowing world of vaginal sex.”

Jimin wants to put rocks in Aeri’s pockets and throw her into the Han River.

By the time they leave the coffee shop, Karina is the newest addition to the list of profiles in some mildly sketchy website for anonymous lesbian hookups. Jimin doesn’t like the look of it any more than she likes the idea of having what’s essentially a newspaper advertisement asking if anyone wants to have sex with her, and she feels conflicted about using the baptismal name her mother gave her to find someone to take her virginity.

The pictures in Karina’s profile are mostly mirror selfies Aeri pulls from her Instagram and none of them show anything on Jimin’s face, save for a few front-camera shots that include her lips. Aeri recommends she adds one of herself in grey sweatpants later, “if you know what I mean,” and all Jimin wants is to disappear into thin air.

Karina is apparently looking for a no-strings-attached one-night stand, and that’s pretty much the only thing her bio says. No long walks on the beach, no live music or anything about her zodiac sign—and certainly nothing about being a virgin. Aeri explicitly states that Jimin is forbidden from mentioning that fact. 

It’s not like she doesn’t understand why, but it still feels wrong to lie about something like that.

In her own time, despite her complicated feelings about it, Jimin figures that there really is no harm in just having a little fun for a night. It’s probably a good life experience, too—and she can’t deny being a little curious about what it feels like.

Which is how she ends up in the parking lot of some expensive-looking hotel, sitting in the car and staring at the front doors like she hopes they’ll come to life and force her to finally walk in.

“Maybe I should just go back home,” she tells her phone, trying to soothe herself by lightly scratching the steering wheel with her nails. “I don’t know. This is just weird.”

Aeri’s voice comes out a little muffled, courtesy of the parking lot’s poor wifi connection. “Babe, it’s fine. Just go in, dance the samba, and come tell me every last detail about it when you’re done.”

“You make it sound so easy…” Jimin mutters as she opens up her hookup-to-be’s profile on her phone for what seems to be the 20th time tonight.

Winter. She’s twenty-two and was the first person to swipe right on Jimin. Jimin—or rather, Karina—matched with her immediately, as if her thumb developed a mind of its own when she saw the pictures Winter had up of her body. Winter ended up messaging her first, too, making a very forward comment about the picture of Jimin in grey sweats (which she did end up adding to her profile).

Before Jimin knew it, she was given a time and place. 8 p.m. at this hotel south of the Han River. She was told to wear the sweatpants, which she was going to do until she looked up the address and was met with a fucking luxury 5-star hotel. She’d feel inadequately dressed in a 1.5-million-won suit in this place.

“What if she’s a serial killer? Worse, what if she’s a man catfishing?”

“Jimin, I don’t think she’d have you pulling up to fucking Gangnam if she was planning to kill you. And if she’s a catfisher, you better suck it up and do whatever that rich man tells you to. Mama wants a yacht.”

Jimin rolls her eyes. It’s 7:54 now, and she’s been sitting in her car for about twenty minutes letting Aeri try to work up her courage (key word: try, because she still feels entirely unprepared.)

Is she wearing too little? Too much? Did she bring enough condoms? Should she have gotten flowers? Done her hair differently? Oh God. One-night stands with beautiful rich women are not for the overthinkers.

“I’m going in,” she says, more to herself than to Aeri, but she doesn’t move. Only wraps her hands tighter around the steering wheel. “I am. I’m going.”

“You might wanna open the door first,” Aeri says after a few seconds pass.

Jimin nods. She might. But she doesn’t.

“I am so gonna fuck this up,” she says. “That or I’m getting murdered. Those are the only options.”

“Or you’ll have a wonderful orgasm. Maybe more than one. There’s a third.”

“And that’s another thing—” Jimin starts, and Aeri groans impatiently. “The orgasm. Fuck, I’m gonna come too quickly. What if it takes me, like, forty seconds? I’ll feel like some pathetic teenager.”

“Jimin—”

“Oh, and what if she’s into some really weird shit, like piss or— or poo? Oh my God, Aeri, what if she wants to ‘Two Girls One Cup’? Or smell my armpits? I think I’d cry. What if—”

“Yu Jimin, I swear to fucking God, if you don’t go inside that building and wreck that girl’s shit right now, I’m gonna walk over there myself and drag you into her room by that brown pelt on your goddamn head.”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“Fine.”

She doesn’t feel ready, nowhere near it, but she opens the door and steps out of the car. 

“Wait, that worked?” Aeri asks, sounding downright giddy. “Damn, I should become a life coach. I’m so motivational.”

“You are getting hung up on, that’s what you are,” Jimin warns as she starts heading towards the entrance, heart beating like it’s trying to escape her chest. 

“Aw, you mean I can’t stay on the line and hear your cherry getting popped?”

Jimin hangs up. She shoots Aeri a quick text telling her to keep an eye on her location right as the automatic doors slide open for her.

And really, she has no business being in a place like this. Her entire fucking apartment could probably fit in the lobby, all marble columns and crystal chandeliers and white roses, grand piano in one corner and a water fountain in another. She feels like she’s gonna owe the company 500,000 won just for using the doors.

Winter had told her to go to the bar when she walks in. Said bar is to her right when she looks around—much to Jimin’s relief, since this place is built like a palace and she’s pretty sure she would’ve gotten lost trying to hunt down anything that required her to go into a hallway or anything of the sort. She walks over and finds the bartender, a woman in a black vest over a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up to her upper forearms. 

“I’m looking for Winter,” Jimin tells her as she’d previously been instructed.

The bartender looks up from the glass she’s wiping dry and raises an eyebrow. “Oh wow.”

Jimin feels her face burn up immediately. Oh wow? What the hell does that mean? Is this Winter’s friend? Does she know what she’s here for? Oh my God, did Winter tell people? Now a bunch of strangers are gonna know about it if she’s a bad lay. Fuck.

“Over at that corner. Table 22.” The woman nods towards the back of the bar, a small smirk on her lips. “Good luck, champ. She’s a handful.”

Alright, so this is going great.

There aren’t many people in the bar. It’s a bit of a shock for a Friday night, but Jimin is happy she doesn’t have to fight the voices of strangers to be able to hear the thousands of different thoughts going through her head.

It does make the face at table 22 very easy to spot—and it’s certainly not Winter’s. Jimin starts considering going back to ask the bartender if she was sure she’d given her the right table, until the figure she’d been pointed to stands up with a smile as she approaches in hesitant steps.

“You must be Karina,” he says, offering her his hand. She contemplates all her life choices as she takes it, because she never expected she’d meet so many people in suits on her way to hook up with some anonymous person off the internet. “I’m Minho.”

“Nice to meet you…?” 

Minho nods. “Yeah, likewise. I just need you to sign this for me, then I can take you to her room.”

When Jimin looks down, two pieces of paper cluttered with printed writing stare right back at her. At the top, the bold, large letters stick out like a tiger in a litter of kittens:

NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT

“Non— non-disclosure?” She frowns and looks back up at Minho, who presses his lips together in a thin line that says yeah, I get it. “Why do I have to sign an NDA?”

“It’ll make more sense when you see her…” He scratches the back of his neck. 

They stand in silence for a second.

“Is this a prank?”

“It’s not.”

“This is totally a prank.”

“I assure you it’s not. Winter just needs this… meeting of yours to be completely private. I’m sure you have no problem with that, right?”

Jimin scoffs. “Well, considering a lady bartender and some buff guy in a suit already know about it, I think that ship has kind of sailed, no?”

Minho laughs a bit awkwardly as he hands her a pen that looks like it costs more than Jimin’s phone. “We’re under NDA’s too, so um… you don’t have to worry about that.”

Jimin’s never been so confused in her life. 

She doesn’t know if this is a bad idea, but Minho doesn’t look like a serial killer or an organ harvester, so she signs the contract—even with her brain yelling at her to flee while she can.

“Is this some kind of pyramid scheme thing? Did you and the bartender start out by matching with Winter too?” Jimin asks, mostly joking, as Minho tucks her NDA into a folder.

“Oh no, I would never,” he says. “I’m her bodyguard.”

Jimin blinks. Stares at him like she’s waiting for him to start laughing and say he’s just kidding.

Laughter never comes. He just finishes packing the folder into his bag and stands there looking right back at her.

“What about, um… her?” she asks, pointing in the direction of the bar.

Minho shrugs. “That’s Ryujin. She just works here.” He swings his bag over his shoulder and starts walking towards the exit. Jimin follows. “I think they did hook up once, though.”

This feels unreal. Like, literally. Jimin feels like she should pinch herself to see if she’s dreaming. Ryujin gives her a smirk and a wink as they walk out of the bar, and the more time passes the less prepared she feels for what she could possibly be facing when she gets to Winter’s room.

Minho, bless his heart, tries his best. His best just makes it worse, unfortunately—the last thing Jimin wants to hear in this moment is that she “shouldn’t worry, because we do this all the time,” implying she’s about to have sex with someone who’s both famous enough to be handing out NDA’s on the regular and experienced enough to most likely clock that she’s a virgin within minutes.

He even asks if she wants some “tips” (because apparently dealing with this Winter person is complicated enough for both the bartender and her bodyguard to offer her advice), and though Jimin kind of does, she vehemently refuses to let him keep talking. He nods awkwardly like he understands, and they go the rest of the elevator ride to the top floor without saying a word to each other.

“Here we are,” Minho says once they reach a room hidden in the far corner of the hallway. “I prefer not to stick around for the grand reveal, so you’re welcome to knock on the door to let her know you’re here. Um… Good luck, friend. Be safe. I never know what to say at this point.”

With that and a pat to her shoulder, he quickly walks off, leaving Jimin to stress all by herself. 

Fortunately or not, she doesn’t get the chance to dwell on whether to knock or run away, because the door opens and Jimin gets pulled into the room by the collar of her shirt before Minho even has the chance to reach the stairs. She snaps her head so quickly she swears it almost twists out of her neck, and sweet Jesus.

The person standing in front of her, all elegant brown eyes and bleached blonde hair and devastatingly full lips, is the most beautiful woman Jimin has ever seen in her entire life. She has a sharp jawline and skin so pale it leaves Jimin wondering if she got her name from blending into the snow, and Jimin can tell she’s not wearing much—if anything—under her white robe because her collarbones and chest are looking right back at her, as are her stupidly gorgeous thighs.

But also—Jimin has not the slightest idea who the fuck this is. 

It says less about Winter’s relevance than it does about Jimin’s complete oblivion when it comes to anything related to celebrities or social media. Really, Jimin is so technologically illiterate she might as well not even have a phone, so she never hears about famous people unless Aeri goes off to her about the latest controversy or breakup (which she never really cares much about anyway.)

But with everything she just went through the past ten minutes or so, Jimin expected to at least recognize this girl from a movie or something. Instead, this makes her feel like a grandmother. Worse, even; judging by how Winter is beautiful enough to drive a few thousand Spartans into Troy, even Jimin’s grandmother would probably know who she is.

Winter speaks before she can even think to. “A picture would last you longer.”

Oh, so she’s got jokes. Perfect.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin says. Still staring. “You just kind of look like an angel.”

She doesn’t really mean to say it out loud, but the words leave her mouth without asking for consent. Winter eyes her up and down, the grin on her face unmistakably amused.

“Hell of a pick-up line.”

“Is it really a pick-up line if you’re already almost fully naked in front of me in a hotel room?”

“Potato, potato.” Winter hooks her fingers around the belt hoops of Jimin’s pants and pulls her closer. She has a soft scent of flowers and baby powder and wine, and it all makes Jimin impossibly dizzy. “You wanna fuck or what?”

“Wait, um—” She places her hands on Winter’s shoulders to keep some distance between them. “Are you, um… are you famous?”

Winter cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

“It’s not a big deal! I think. Shit, maybe it is. I don’t know, I’m just—” Jimin takes a deep breath, and pulls her hands back because touching Winter right now feels weird for some reason. “Shit, I’m sorry, am I being a total dick right now? I don’t want you to think I’m implying you’re not relevant or anything, I’m just not in tune with celebrities or whatever, so I don’t really recognize you but all that NDA and bodyguard business makes me think you’re probably someone I should recognize— Oh, and this hotel is really nice, way too nice for a normal person to be able to afford—”

“Hey,” Winter says, and it’s only now that Jimin notices how much she’s been talking. “You’re rambling.”

She presses her lips together as though restraining herself from saying more. Winter smiles, and there’s a few seconds of silence before she speaks again.

“So you really don’t know who I am?” she asks, almost teasingly, making Jimin’s face burn up as she shakes her head. “Good.”

Jimin frowns. “Good?”

“Good,” Winter repeats.

“I don’t understand.”

Suddenly, there’s a hand on Jimin’s chest, pushing her further into the room until the back of her knees hit the bed and she’s forced to sit. Winter immediately straddles her lap and Jimin almost forgets how to breathe.

“It’s Karina, right?” Right. She almost forgot about the whole fake name thing. “You don’t need to understand. I’m Winter to you, and that’s that. Deal?”

Jimin almost comes up with a fully-developed thought, but then Winter’s mouth is on her neck and she has no chance at anything remotely coherent when those lips feel just as good on her skin as she thought they would. She feels them twist into a smirk against her jawline when she lets out a gasp and grabs Winter’s hips on instinct, and all of a sudden it doesn’t matter if this girl is famous or if Jimin is the only person in the world to her because she has to be the hottest fucking woman ever born.

Winter has a smile on her face when she pulls back to look at Jimin, whose heart starts beating way too damn quickly when Winter’s hand finds the belt of her robe and pulls it loose. Her robe falls open to reveal bony shoulders and collarbones and a lacy pink bra that has Jimin’s mouth watering. 

It should come as no surprise that a rich woman like Winter would be wearing lingerie that looks this expensive. She probably wears matching sets from the most luxurious of fashion brands just to go grocery shopping, really. Nevertheless, Jimin feels like she’s in heaven.

“Shit,” she whispers, in shock and not entirely on purpose. Winter chuckles in a way that makes her abdomen flex, calling attention to how pretty and defined her stomach is, and Jimin vaguely wonders if it’d be weird to tell her she has a nice bellybutton. “Your body is… insane,” she says instead.

“So I’ve heard,” Winter replies. She tosses the robe blindly, rendering herself nude save for her underwear. 

Jimin’s dick is almost painfully hard already, and she knows Winter notices because it is quite literally pressed up against the underside of her thigh and Jimin is pretty sure the grinding motion she’s doing on it is anything but unintentional.

Winter leans in again to claim Jimin’s neck. The warm tongue lapping at the sensitive patch of skin under her jaw with what could only be desperation makes Jimin’s mind hazy, but she pushes through it just enough to be able to slide her hand up Winter’s back and undo the clasp of her bra. 

The mouth on her neck vibrates lightly with a chuckle as Jimin pulls the straps down Winter’s shoulders. Her hand finds the back of her head and tugs gently on her hair until Winter’s pulling back, and oh.

Jimin hasn’t seen boobs in years. She honestly forgot how hard it makes her to take a girl’s bra off and be met with a gorgeous pair of tits, and Winter’s are just so pretty.

They’re not the biggest; each must be just about a handful, and Jimin fucking loves it. Loves how small and pink her areolas are, nipples perky and hard and just calling the ever living fuck out of her name as she stares down at them with eyes full of wonder.

She lowers her head with no hesitation, hungrily wrapping her lips around Winter’s nipple. Winter arches into the touch and throws her head back, hand rushing to grab onto the back of Jimin’s head and tug at her hair.

“Karina—” she gasps, rocking her hips on Jimin’s lap in search of friction, and Jimin palms her ass as encouragement as she rolls her tongue around Winter’s nipple. Her free hand finds her unattended breast and she circles the areola with her thumb. 

Winter is a whiner. Jimin takes note of that very quickly when she releases her nipple with a wet pop and her sounds go from soft to more desperate and a bit louder. 

She smirks against the curve of Winter’s breast, tracing kisses along her chest until she reaches her left tit and teases the nipple with her tongue. She closes her mouth around it and sucks with abandon, cheeks hollowing as she does, and Winter lets out a particularly loud moan and arches her back at it.

Jimin takes it in with pride. She looks up at Winter with doe eyes, wrapping a strong arm around her waist to pull her impossibly close. 

“Take your pants off,” Winter whines breathily, hand tight around the fabric of Jimin’s shirt. She’s looking down at Jimin with sultry eyes that make it very hard to say no. “I wanna feel more of you.”

She keeps her mouth on Winter’s tits as she sneaks a hand between their bodies and reaches for her zipper. It’s messy and a bit awkward to do with a woman on her lap, but Jimin manages to slide her jeans down and kick them off her legs. Winter takes it upon herself to pull Jimin’s shirt off, too, leaving her in nothing but her boxers and sports bra.

When Jimin looks back up, Winter is staring down at the outline of her cock through her underwear. An angry vein stretches across the length and her tip almost sneaks out of the hem of her boxers’ leg like it’s begging to come out, a small wet spot already darkening the fabric with precum.

“A picture would last you longer,” Jimin says with a smirk. Winter looks up with the haste of a teenager who’s been caught with a Playboy, but surprise is quickly replaced with a laugh at being reminded of her own words from earlier. 

“What can I say?” she asks, tracing a gentle finger up Jimin’s shaft. Jimin’s cock twitches and Winter smiles proudly, taking it as her go-ahead to take it further by going back to grinding on her. “Been a while since I’ve taken cock that big.”

Without the rough fabric of Jimin’s jeans covering her, the feeling of Winter’s pussy—albeit clothed, too—rubbing on her cock drives her a bit insane. She can no longer focus on kissing Winter’s skin or teasing her tits or even admiring her beauty, because her mind is locked in on the friction, focused on not fucking coming before anything real actually happens.

But if Winter keeps rolling her hips like that, Jimin is gonna bust before her dick is even out of her underwear. Her earlier rant to Aeri comes to mind, and suddenly she’s overtaken by concern and guilt all over again.

I’m gonna come too quickly. What if it takes me, like, forty seconds? I’ll feel like some pathetic teenager.

She’s been able to mask her virginity thus far, but if she comes practically untouched, Jimin is done for. Winter will be so disappointed and mad and will probably laugh at her with Minho the bodyguard and Ryujin the bartender and whoever else may be NDA-bound in this damn hotel. Oh, God, there it is; there’s the fear. 

“Wait, Winter— wait,” she stammers, wrapping her hands firmly around Winter’s hips. The latter stops moving with a confused pout on her lips. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Um…” Jimin sighs. “I gotta tell you something before we go further.”

Winter doesn’t respond, only looks at her and frowns.

“I—” Jimin tries, releasing her hold on Winter’s hips. She doesn’t miss the way Winter’s eyes follow her hands as they drop to her sides on the mattress. “I’m. A virgin.”

Winter blinks.

“What?” 

“Well, um— virgin by… certain standards. Like, penis-in-vagina standards. I’ve been with girls. Not as of recently. It’s been a few years, actually— well, you know, that’s kind of neither here nor there right now. Point is, virgin. Me.”

 Winter looks at her in silence for a second, eyes a bit narrow like she’s waiting for a punchline to jump out at her. It does not.

“...and you decided to tell me this while I’m sitting on your cock with my tits out?”

Jimin lowers her head, no longer willing to make eye contact—even though looking down means staring right at Winter’s boobs, which kind of makes all of this harder. No pun intended.

“I was specifically told to not say anything about it.”

“Told? Told by who?”

“My best friend. I told her I was a virgin, which turned out to be a mistake because she became deadset on making me get laid, and then you matched with me and she said you’d never want to um—” Jimin scratches the back of her head, finding it hard to believe that this is her life right now. “She said you wouldn’t fuck me if you knew I was a virgin.”

“Oh,” Winter says, and there’s no way in hell Jimin could possibly decipher what it means if she tried.

“Well, um…” Jimin clears her throat and pushes past her fears to look up at Winter again, eyes full of shame. Winter’s face remains unreadable. “I’m sorry. If you want me to leave, I get that.”

Silence builds up again and Jimin expects many things; for Winter to call her a weirdo and a creep, or slap her, or just laugh in her face—but the absolute last thing she could’ve ever thought would happen is for gentle fingers to take hold of her jaw and lift it, forcing her eyes to properly meet Winter’s.

For a moment, Jimin thinks Winter is going to kiss her. 

“I don’t care that you’re a virgin,” Winter says instead, her voice soft. “I’m frankly surprised that you managed to last— how old did you say you were again?”

Jimin swallows. “Um. Twenty-five.”

“Twenty-five years without putting that dick to good use. Either way, you’re cute.” A slight smile forms on her lips, and she strokes Jimin’s cheek with her thumb. “And pretty. I don’t mind helping you out.”

Jimin frowns like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Really?”

“Well…” Winter lets go of Jimin’s jaw to snake her hand up the side of her face until her fingers are buried under brown locks of hair. “Since you’ve never done this before, I’m not too confident about how long you’re gonna last… which is fine, but a girl still has her needs—”

“Whatever you want,” Jimin intercepts. “Seriously. Anything.”

Winter’s smile grows into an unbelievably attractive mixture of wicked and amused that drains Jimin’s lungs of all their air. She presses a thumb to Jimin’s bottom lip, stroking it gently, and Jimin puts her hands back on her hips.

“How eager,” Winter mutters, not quite putting much focus into her words. She moves her thumb higher, testing the waters—almost hesitantly so—but Jimin shamelessly gives way for it to slide past her lips and into her mouth, and Winter’s smile only widens at the way she closes up around it. “I was kind of hoping to get fucked senseless tonight, but… God, aren't you a pretty little thing. I don’t even mind getting it gentle if it’s from you.”

Jimin feels a light warmth creep up on her face, but when Winter’s thumb applies the smallest amount of pressure onto her tongue, she can’t help but hollow her cheeks around it. She maintains eye contact as she sucks, encouraged by the way Winter’s expression slowly melts into something more sultry and clearly lost in lust.

Her hands are wrapping around the underside of Winter’s thighs as soon as her thumb leaves Jimin’s mouth. Winter gasps in surprise and grabs her shoulders tightly, though she’s soon letting go when she’s practically thrown onto the bed.

Jimin climbs on after her, crawling on the mattress until she’s hovering over Winter. “I could still make you forget your own name,” she whispers into Winter’s ear. Her lips find Winter’s neck and she begins trailing chaste kisses down pale skin, mind drowning in the whimpers and gasps she’s letting out.

Winter’s fingers bury themselves in soft locks of brown hair at the same time Jimin’s own hook into pink lace and she tugs Winter’s panties down her legs blindly. She kisses down her collarbones at the same time, leading a path down her chest until she reaches Winter’s breasts. 

Impatient fingers sneak between Winter’s legs, grazing her inner thighs and treading dangerously close to her now-bare pussy. Winter’s head tips back at the contact, however light it may be, and Jimin grins against her chest.

“Is this okay?” Jimin mutters between kisses.

“That’s— that’s the last thing you need to be asking—”

She scrapes her teeth against the sensitive skin of Winter’s nipple, and Winter gasps. 

“You’re dripping, Winter,” Jimin says, still teasing her inner thigh. “I haven’t even touched you properly and my fingers are already wet.”

The sound that comes out of Winter when a middle finger finally dips into her heat is a whiny, angelic thing that echoes in Jimin’s mind as she scopes out the feeling of Winter’s cunt around her. She’s warm and tight, and Jimin’s cock twitches just at the thought, but she doesn’t touch herself.

“Another?” Jimin asks, and places a kiss between Winter’s breasts.

Winter nods frantically, attempting something that lies between a plea and a flat-out whimper. Jimin slips her ring finger in with ease and has to close her eyes to contain herself because Winter feels so fucking good.

She gives Winter a second to adjust that she doesn’t need, made evident by the way her hips so weakly rock upwards against Jimin’s touch, before she starts pumping her fingers in and out of her cunt.

“Karina, fuck—” Winter chokes out, arching her back in reaction. Jimin draws her head back and pushes Winter back down with a hand to her collarbone.

“Stay still for me,” Jimin commands as she lowers herself, maintaining eye contact the whole way down until she’s hovering over Winter’s pussy. She watches slick-coated fingers slide in and out at a steady pace, and her mouth waters at the sight. “So pretty. Everything about you is so pretty. Even this,” she mutters before wrapping her lips around Winter’s clit in a languid kiss that has her clinging to the sheets under them for dear life.

“Fuck!” Winter screams, and her thighs try to close up involuntarily, but Jimin is quick to hold her open with her free hand.

She drags her tongue flat and slow over Winter’s clit, and the whimpers that it elicits are almost as good as the way she tastes. It’s not quite enough, leaving Jimin craving more like she depends on it to survive, so she retracts her fingers—much to Winter’s dismay, but only briefly, as Jimin immediately replaces them with her tongue.

She thrusts it inside of Winter and quickly moves her thumb to rub circles on her clit like an apology, like she knows it won’t be enough but can’t help how desperately she wants every taste bud of hers to be submerged in Winter at her rawest. Her warm cunt wraps around Jimin’s tongue and the heavenly taste of something heavy and tangy hits her immediately.

They moan in unison and the light vibration of it has Winter pulling at Jimin’s hair. She savors every part of it; every whimper that comes out of Winter, every broken attempt at grinding her hips. Jimin drowns in it, licks inside of her like she’s trying to memorize how every centimeter of Winter’s walls feel when they clench around her tongue.

Jimin whines into her and it’s almost pathetic, because her cock is still so hard in her boxers and she’s gotten no relief and it hurts—but she still doesn’t touch herself. Doesn’t so much as grind against the mattress, because not even her own aching desire could distract her from Winter right now.

Regardless, the question of how good it’ll feel to be inside Winter keeps turning over in her head, and it’s making her restless. 

Jimin’s lips are shiny and swollen when she pulls back. She places a gentle kiss on Winter’s pelvis, partially to apologize once again and partially to get her attention.

“I wanna try something out,” she says softly, stroking Winter’s inner thigh with her thumb. Winter looks down at her, mind hazy and a bit confused, and Jimin smiles, climbing up so they’re face to face. “Would you ride my face?”

Excitement glimmers in Winter’s eyes and her smile is almost giddy as she pushes onto Jimin’s shoulder, flipping her over onto her back. “You’re serious?” she asks.

Winter is on top of her and Jimin’s mind is clouded with nothing but the thought of how close their crotches are, but she resists the urge to lift her hips and just nods. “Deadly.”

A quick kiss is laid upon her jawline before Winter straddles her face, her pussy hovering over Jimin’s mouth. Winter looks fucking incredible from this angle, she notes as she wraps her hands around her thighs in encouragement. From the immaculate view she gets of her wet entrance to the way her blonde hair cascades over perky tits—it all makes Jimin’s mouth water with want. 

Winter reaches down, fingers getting lost in Jimin’s scalp, and Jimin kind of feels about ready to die happy if the last thing she ever sees are Winter’s eyes boring into her needy, pussy-drunk own. 

“Do me a favor and keep those hands on me, gorgeous,” Winter says, like she can sense how badly Jimin wants to come herself. Jimin nods because she’d agree to just about anything right now to get Winter to sit on her face.

“I won’t touch myself,” she mutters, tongue darting out to mark the inside of Winter’s thighs with wet kisses that make the youngest gasp and jerk her hips involuntarily. “Promise.”

Satisfied, Winter lowers herself and Jimin is quick and eager to envelop her clit into her mouth. Winter throws her head back and immediately lets out a strangled moan, hands pulling at Jimin’s hair.

What becomes of it are delicious moans against her cunt and the strong squeeze of small hands around Winter’s thighs as her head gets forced closer and closer. There’s not a morsel of complaint in Jimin’s mind, though; in fact, desperate hands find Winter’s hips and pull her down more, almost begging for there to be no hesitation holding Winter back from resting her whole weight on her.

Jimin closes her eyes and sucks on Winter’s clit harder to test what pleasures her the most. Whines get louder and needier in response, and Winter rolls her hips in a way that has Jimin’s own squirming, thrusting up weakly into the air. The lack of stimulation of it pulls a few tears from her eyes, but she keeps her hands where they are and doesn’t cave.

“Fuck, Karina— feels so good—” Winter mewls mindlessly. “So good— put your fingers in me, baby, fill me up, ah—”

Jimin obeys immediately, two fingers thrusting up into Winter’s cunt with no difficulty at all. Winter moans out and rides her harder and Jimin curls her fingers inside warm walls as best she can, the squelch of them music to her ears.

And, again, Winter tastes too fucking good. Winter tastes like pure devastation, like nothing else Jimin’s ever put in her mouth. It’s overpowering and beautiful and Jimin is confident she could stay like this forever—lapping hungrily at her cunt, getting lost in those warm juices, letting Winter’s clit rub against her nose as she rides her face.

Jimin’s making almost as much noise as she is, muffled and desperate against her pussy, vibrations working overtime to send her over the edge. Winter lifts her right leg and Jimin fears she’s leaving for the second where her clit is out of her mouth, making her instinctively grab onto her thigh and whine, and Winter breathes out a laugh.

“Relax, baby. Just trying a new angle,” she says, massaging Jimin’s scalp. 

Winter places her foot flat on the bed, to the right of the pillow Jimin’s head is lying on, keeping her left knee where it’s been. She lowers her clit back into Jimin’s mouth and they let out another simultaneous moan, because fuck, this angle is fantastic.

The way Winter’s spread open grants Jimin better access to her cunt and her foot on the mattress makes it easier for her to rock her hips back and forth. She grabs Jimin’s wrist and all but forces her fingers to enter her again, as they’d slipped out when she changed positions, and once Jimin dips back into her they both notice that this also becomes easier and more gratifying with the new angle.

And Jimin loves being used. She notices that, too, how it tugs at her tummy when she degrades her own self to nothing but a toy in her mind, how disposed she is to being at Winter’s absolute will.

Her whole body burns at the thought alone, and she pumps into Winter in time with hard drags of her tongue over her clit. She swears she could come just from hearing the sounds this girl makes—she knows because she can feel drops of precum leaking from her cock with practically every whine, uncomfortably soaking her boxers and making her twist and arch with the desire to at least take them off.

Winter seems to notice, because she rubs Jimin’s scalp tenderly and says, with difficulty, “I know, baby… Ah— ‘m almost done, almost there, just keep going. You’re doing so well.”

Fuck butterflies. There’s a whole flock of birds flying around in Jimin’s stomach.

Winter’s encouragement makes her work that much harder, chasing that sweet praise that hits her ears like a promise. Her fingers reach a speed she didn’t quite remember she could go at and she sucks Winter’s swollen clit at that suction level she already knows makes her scream.

And scream, she does. Winter’s head falls forward and she has to grab the headboard for support with the hand not in Jimin’s hair because the roll of her hips gets weaker and sloppier by the second. Jimin is quick to hold her up by the underside of her right thigh when she feels Winter’s leg start to shake.

“Right there, fuck, Karina, I’m coming, fuck— oh my God, fuck me—”

Winter gets so much louder and whinier when she’s close, and she looks so fucking pretty, pretty enough for Jimin to be moaning against her pussy just at the sight of her.

It doesn’t take much more for Winter to fall apart. She comes on Jimin’s tongue with a broken sob, cunt clenching around persistent fingers so tight Jimin almost has a hard time moving them.

Her arousal drips out onto Jimin’s mouth and fingers, and Jimin greedily takes it all in, holding Winter tight so she won’t collapse. Her eyes close as she does, because she still can’t get over how fucking delectable this girl tastes. She pulls her fingers out and replaces them with a thirsty tongue so she can feel Winter throb around it, and it’s way too good. Her mind is fully gone by now.

Winter whimpers and gasps and once she’s fully ridden out her orgasm she has to practically force Jimin to stop fucking her with her tongue. Jimin is sad to have to obey but she does nevertheless, sitting up to rest her back against the headboard as Winter slumps beside her on the mattress with a sigh.

“I think you fucking broke me,” she says, arm over her closed eyes and chest heaving like she just ran a marathon. “Didn’t think you had all that in you,” she mutters, now turning to look at Jimin.

Jimin chuckles as she brings her fingers, soaked in Winter, to her own mouth. She keeps eye contact and doesn’t miss the way Winter is watching her as she sucks her slick right off her fingers, moaning shamelessly around the taste.

“I told you I’ve been with girls, didn’t I?” Jimin says once her fingers are sucked dry, voice deep and hoarse. “I might be a virgin in the traditional sense, but I’m still a provider.”

“That you are.” Winter rests her head in her hand and looks at Jimin with amusement in her eyes. “You said it’d been a few years. I thought you’d be out of practice.”

Jimin shrugs. “It’s like riding a bike.”

“Technically I was doing the riding, but if that’s the analogy you wanna go with, then sure.”

Right. Jimin forgot she’s got jokes.

“Good one, Lance Armstrong,” she says, pushing onto a laughing Winter’s shoulder.

“Thanks. Now…” Winter places her hand over Jimin’s stomach, smiling when it flexes as she trails it down to her boxers. “Let’s get to the main event.”

Jimin raises a curious eyebrow, but allows Winter’s fingers to hook under her waistband, unconsciously leaning into the touch. “You don’t need time to recover?”

“Boring.”

Before Jimin can even think about it, Winter is pulling her boxers down. Her cock springs out, rock hard and covered in an embarrassing amount of precum.

“Look at this…” Winter mutters, reaching to wrap her hand around Jimin’s shaft. Her hips jerk in response, a gasp escaping her lips before she can stop it, and Winter smiles. “You’re all hard like this just from eating me out. Made a mess out of your own cock without even being touched.”

“S-shit—” Jimin hisses under her breath, whimpering when Winter starts to stroke her slowly and leans up to attach her lips to her neck. 

“You ready?”

“Do I not feel ready?”

Jimin shivers at the airy chuckle Winter lets out against her jaw in response. The torturous pace of the hand on her cock very nearly makes her unable to process it when Winter kneels between her legs.

“You look good like this,” Winter says, smiling in that same way she did when Jimin was sucking on her thumb, and Jimin swears she’s about to implode. 

“Winter—” she tries, being interrupted with her own gasp when Winter leans down to kiss the swollen, sensitive tip of her cock, flexing her tongue over the slit. “C-condom. I should put a condom on…”

Winter shakes her head and licks up Jimin’s length. “You’re insane if you think I’m letting you wrap this masterpiece of a dick in latex. Like putting a plastic covering over the damn Mona Lisa. I need you to fuck me raw, Karina.”

Colossally bad idea to trust a stranger with something like this, Jimin thinks, but then Winter is straddling her hips and rubbing her wet cunt over her cock, and she’s far too gone to care.

“I’m on the pill anyway,” Winter adds as she lines Jimin up with her entrance. 

There’s no warning when Winter sinks down on her cock—she doesn’t even take it bit by bit, having Jimin impale her in one go. Jimin throws her head back and a loud moan immediately escapes her throat because Winter feels way too fucking good, so tight and warm around her that she sees stars when she closes her eyes.

“Oh God—” Jimin gasps, grabbing onto Winter’s hips to ensure she doesn’t start moving just yet. Winter reaches for her chin and strokes it with her thumb.

“Eyes on me, baby,” she says softly. It takes her a second, but Jimin does obey, and when she opens her eyes she’s met with gentler ones looking right back at her. “How does that feel?”

“So good. Fuck.”

“Yeah?” Winter smiles and leans in to press a chaste kiss to her jawline. “We’ll go slow, okay? I’ll talk you through it. Tell me if you need to stop.”

Jimin nods. It drives her insane, how gentle Winter is being with her. The tender look in her eyes as they snap back and forth between Jimin’s facial features like she’s examining every inch of her in patient wait for a signal.

It’s far from how she expected this to go. Not that you’d hear any complaints from her.

“You can start moving now,” Jimin mutters. Winter holds onto her shoulders with light, soothing squeezes as she begins a slow rock of her hips.

She rides her smooth and steady, like every movement couldn’t be more deliberate. Jimin is borderline enchanted by that stare, by the way Winter’s plump lips part just slightly with soft gasps, the faint furrow of her eyebrows. 

She thanks heaven and Earth for those delicate details keeping her present while Winter’s walls are wrapped so deliciously around her cock. The friction, though still light, is already enough to send jolts of electricity through her entire body, and her mind would be floating like a cloud were it not for her ability to ground herself by focusing on Winter’s pretty features.

“How’s that?” Winter asks. Her voice sounds so sultry and breathy that Jimin almost whimpers.

“Incredible,” she replies in a whisper, fingers tightening slightly around Winter’s hips.

“You can touch me more, Karina. Don’t hold back.”

Winter grabs Jimin’s hand from her hip and slowly trails it up to her chest, placing her palm over a perky tit. Jimin takes the liberty to give it a light squeeze, which makes Winter jerk her hips a bit too hard and they moan simultaneously in response.

“Winter—”

“I know, baby. It’s okay,” Winter coos. “Just focus on me.”

Jimin is going insane.

She looks down at where the bodies meet, where Winter’s thighs wrap around her hips and her clit rubs gently against her lower abdomen with every slow roll of her hips. Winter’s own abdomen, Jimin notices, shows the slightest bulge, budging with every movement she makes. The hand still on Winter’s hip shifts hesitantly, slowly finding its way to the spot just beneath her belly button, and her fingers trace the faint outline of her cock. Winter flexes her stomach in reaction and her cunt clenches, dragging a groan out of Jimin that leaves her throat in time with a desperate whine from Winter.

“See how deep you are in me?” Winter asks. Jimin nods mindlessly, still looking at the swell of her tip on soft skin. “Such a huge dick like this, it should be a crime that you haven’t been using it.”

Winter starts bouncing on Jimin’s cock now, a bit faster than she was with her prior movements, and her hands tighten around Jimin’s shoulders for purchase.

“Winter!” Jimin cries out.

Winter’s hand finds her chin and lifts it gently so Jimin’s wide, glassy eyes are on her. “It’s alright, baby. Tell me how that feels,” she says breathily.

Jimin is struggling. The reassurance, the way the pet name flows off Winter’s tongue every time, the way her warm cunt wraps around her cock—it’s all taking her sanity from her.

“Feels so good,” Jimin practically whines. “Your pussy’s so—fuck, so good, so tight—”

Winter whimpers, picking up the pace. Jimin circles a sensitive nipple with the pad of her thumb and her other hand takes Winter’s ass in a tight grip to guide her movements.

The sound of skin slapping against skin alone makes Jimin’s mind hazy, but her favorite part has to be the sight of her cock so filthily disappearing inside Winter’s pretty pussy, every soaked inch showing back up when she lifts her hips with another bounce. She’s losing count of how many times she feels like her head is about to explode.

“You’re so huge, Karina, filling me up so good,” Winter says between moans.

Jimin leans forward, because Winter’s bouncing tits have been tempting her so badly, and she wraps a greedy mouth around her nipple. Winter moans at the sensation of a warm tongue tracing the sensitive bud, arching into the touch as she rides her faster.

“So polite, aren’t you?” she chuckles, fingers finding the back of Jimin’s head to tangle with her hair. “Still making sure I feel good, even though I already came once. Such a gentleman.”

Jimin hums against her breast, hips bucking up involuntarily, and Winter whines. But she keeps going.

“God— suck on my tits, Karina, feels so fucking good—”

Jimin does as she’s told, sucking deliciously on the flesh of Winter’s breasts. That only encourages Winter to ride her faster, and Jimin can feel herself getting closer and closer with every bounce.

She reaches between them blindly and presses her thumb over Winter’s clit with messy rubs. Her hand is angled awkwardly and it’s hard to maintain a proper rotation of her thumb with all the movement, but Winter lets out a strangled moan and throws her head back and the clenching of her cunt makes Jimin work harder on all ends.

“I wanna make you come,” Jimin mumbles against the pinkened skin of Winter’s breasts, brain only half functioning. “Want you to come with my cock inside you, can you do that?”

Winter whimpers and tugs at Jimin’s hair. “Fuck, Karina—”

Jimin slings an arm around Winter’s lower back and flips their position with a kind of strength she didn’t know she had in her. Winter, now on her back, wraps her calves around Jimin’s waist, and Jimin starts thrusting into her with purpose. 

“Please,” she begs, lips already attacking the pulse point of Winter’s neck. Her breath is hot and heavy and unsteady on the sweaty skin as she nips at the sensitive space under her jawline.

“I’m close, baby, don’t stop—” Winter breathes out desperately. Jimin can feel her hips bucking upward, brokenly trying to meet her own thrusts. She’s so close, too, about ready to be sent right over the edge but refusing to allow it to happen until Winter’s done using her.

Jimin trails her mouth down Winter’s neck, sucking lightly on the protruding vein on the side. Her hand finds Winter’s clit again and she goes back to thumbing hard circles on it. Winter whimpers, right by her ear, nails scratching at Jimin’s back, and the sting tells her she’ll have some marks to cherish in the morning.

Jimin’s thrusts get faster and more determined as she hears the desperation in Winter’s increasingly loud moans. It does what it needs to do, she thinks, because it doesn’t take long until Winter’s walls squeeze her cock tight and she comes with Jimin’s alias on her lips.

Jimin doesn’t stop, wouldn’t dare to, hammering into her the hardest she can because Winter’s cunt feels just as good as she thought it would when she’s coming. 

“Did I do well?” Jimin mumbles, pulling back to look Winter in those heavenly eyes. “Was I good? Tell me I was good,” she begs.

Winter looks beautiful like this. Her hair falls over the mattress in impossibly silky bleached waves, a contrast to the flushed skin under her eyes and the ethereal red tint of her parted lips. She looks up at Jimin with furrowed eyebrows, still drunk on the high of her orgasm.

“You were so good, such a good girl, I came so hard—” She’s interrupted by a whimper coming from Jimin. Winter, noticing the effect she’s having on her, piles on. “You did so well, Karina, so good for me…”

Hips stutter, as do Jimin’s broken moans, and her head falls forward onto Winter’s neck. “I’m coming— can I come? Let me come, please, fuck—”

Winter nods vehemently, pressing a kiss to the side of Jimin’s head. “Come for me, baby. Let go for me.”

“Inside? S-should I come in your pussy? Oh—”

Winter doesn’t get the opportunity to respond before she breaks. Jimin comes in uneven jerks of her hips, spurting unbelievable amounts of cum into Winter’s cunt. Her head goes tingly and her arms shake trying to keep her body from collapsing onto Winter, who whimpers and clenches around Jimin’s cock just from the feeling of warm cum filling her up.

She fucks Winter through her own orgasm, cock throbbing and thrusts growing slower and weaker. Her cum spills out of Winter and onto the bedsheets and both their thighs and it’s so obscenely sloppy and sticky, even as Jimin slams it back into her leaking cunt. 

It’s so good, though, better than she ever could’ve imagined, and when she comes down from that high she’s covered in sweat and completely out of breath, as is the blonde mess under her.

She’s also embarrassed. When she pulls back to look at Winter again, her face is as red as it’s ever been, and there’s nothing in her eyes but concern.

“Fuck, I came inside, I’m so sorry— you didn’t say if it was okay, but I couldn’t hold it anymore, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

Winter cups Jimin’s face with both hands, and her rambling is cut short by a kiss.

It catches her by complete surprise. They hadn’t kissed up until now, and Jimin has admittedly been wondering why, but it hasn’t quite bothered her much past wanting to know what Winter’s lips would feel like on hers.

Turns out, there’s nothing that could’ve prepared her for the feeling of those soft, plump lips sucking hers in, a warm tongue swiping across them as Winter uses a hand to coax Jimin’s body into relaxing on top of hers. God, it’s— well, it’s Winter. That word alone should be description enough.

The kiss is slow and passionate and Winter, of course, takes the lead and keeps it from start to end. Jimin is still throbbing periodically inside her, but Winter runs a gentle hand up and down her back to help calm her down fully.

When they break apart, the look on Winter's face is as affectionate as the one on Jimin’s is confused.

“I wanted you to come inside, dummy,” she says, a tender smile on her lips as she reaches up to tuck a stray strand of Jimin’s hair behind her ear. “I like it. And I told you I’m on the pill, didn’t I? You stress too much.”

“Oh,” Jimin says. Takes a deep, shaky breath of pure relief.

Winter nods. “Yeah. You’re very cute, though,” she says, and pecks Jimin’s lips again. Jimin has to restrain herself from going in for another, because her lips are maddeningly addictive.

Instead, she draws back and pulls out of Winter, watching as more of her cum slowly leaks out of her pussy, and she almost moans at the sight. So many thoughts go through her head at once, so many urges.

And it’s like Winter can read all of them, because she asks, “You wanna clean me up?”

Jimin looks back up at her with wide eyes and nods eagerly. “I do.”

Winter grins.

“Then get down there and lap that up like a good girl.”

She doesn’t have to be told twice.

Jimin is quick and eager to lower herself until her mouth is right over Winter’s pussy, and she closes her eyes as she dives in, tongue tracing the parts of her inner thighs coated with her cum. Winter, still incredibly sensitive from her orgasm, can’t avoid the squirms and whines as Jimin draws closer to her cunt.

Her fingers slide into Jimin’s hair when a greedy tongue sinks into her entrance, practically fucking her with it all over again as she gathers up her own cum bit by bit like a cat going at it on its water bowl.

“Oh God, Karina—” Winter says with a breathy laugh, massaging Jimin’s scalp as she does. “You really are— fuck, oh God, you’re so cute and pathetic, licking up your own cum like that. Cleaning me up like the pretty little toy you are.”

Jimin moans with her mouth closed around Winter’s clit, making her hips jerk.

The whole affair soon becomes about something else entirely, with Jimin sucking on a swollen clit hungrily and Winter whining at the overstimulation. It doesn’t take long until she’s coming for the third time that evening, thighs shaking around Jimin’s head as her whole body restlessly convulses.

Once she’s thoroughly finished, Jimin finds her way to the bathroom and comes back with both some wipes and a bottle of water she got from the minibar along the way. Winter looks as wrecked as she’d expect her to be, but she still sits up lazily and smiles as Jimin cleans her up properly.

“What a gentleman,” she mumbles against the mouth of the bottle Jimin handed to her. “So, your cherry’s popped. How do you feel?”

Jimin chuckles. “You sound just like Aeri.”

“I take it that’s the friend who convinced you to get on that website?” Winter asks, and Jimin nods. “God bless Aeri. Gotta buy her dinner sometime.”

It’s not healthy for her to be saying things like this. Really, nothing good can come out of Jimin’s ego being inflated, and she definitely doesn’t want to end up like one of those frat boys who are so full of themselves because they hump everything in sight like a mutt who needs to be neutered—especially not after a single good lay. 

But she can’t help that it feels good to hear. She had sex—“real” sex, by all standards—and she didn’t suck at it. It’s something worthy of celebration. She makes a mental note to go get some food with Aeri soon.

“It’s like, almost one in the morning, by the way,” Winter says, and Jimin’s eyes widen at how five hours went by like absolute nothing. She hurries to get up and look around for her clothes.

“Shit, I’m sorry, you’re probably super tired. I’ll get out of your hair so you can get some rest.”

Winter frowns, watching as Jimin slips into her boxers. “I didn’t mean it like that, gorgeous. You could take this room for the night if you wanted, I have a chauffeur ready to take me home whenever I ask. Also known as Choi Minho, because my actual chauffeur isn’t here right now.”

Jimin shakes her head. “No, no, it’s alright. I have work tomorrow anyway, so um—” She bites her lip as she puts her jeans on, because she realizes this girl probably doesn’t wanna talk personal lives.

Winter’s still looking at her when she finishes getting dressed. Jimin stands in the middle of the room, a bit awkward under that mildly intimidating stare. She’s about to say something when Winter steps down from the bed and grabs her forgotten bathrobe off the floor, covering herself with it as she stalks towards Jimin’s entranced self.

“I wanna see you again,” Winter says, extending an open palm towards her, and it takes Jimin a few seconds to process what she’s asking for. She hastily fishes her phone out of the pocket of her jeans and obediently hands it to Winter, who types her phone number into it. “This is my personal number, not the bullshit one I give to the airheaded hunks that sends their texts straight to the burner phone I never touch.”

Jimin looks at her confusedly when she gets her phone back and sees a new contact named Winter 👅🔥💋.

“I— why?”

Winter grins, taking a step closer and grabbing the back of Jimin’s neck. She leans in to press a kiss onto Jimin’s lips—one Jimin doesn’t even get the chance to do anything about before she’s pulling away again.

“This was your first time and you made me come harder than a lot of the experienced people I’ve slept with. That shows insane potential, and I’m not letting that go so easily.”

Mesmerized and still a bit confused, Jimin purses her lips and nods, sneakily sliding her tongue over the taste of Winter on them. The blonde gives her a satisfied smile.

She leaves the room with a genuine “get home safe” and an order to text Winter that partially sounds like a threat. Above all else, though, she leaves with a dumb smile on her face.

***

“What the fuck do you mean you won’t give me every last detail?”

Jimin rolls her eyes.

Of course Aeri called her first thing after waking up. Jimin had barely gotten her car out of her apartment building’s garage when the phone rang, and she didn’t even have to look to know exactly whose name would show up on her screen.

“Even if I wanted to do that, Aeri—which I don’t—that’d be incredibly disrespectful to her. Kissing and telling is for fifteen-year-old boys trying to impress their friends at the expense of the poor girl who trusted them intimately.”

Jimin hasn’t even texted her. She got home God knows how late, too tired to even think about taking a single glance at her phone and simply thankful that she made it to her door in one piece without wrapping her car around a tree. That’s all she remembers before getting woken up by her alarm this morning, sprawled onto her bed with all her clothes from last night still on.

She wants to pretend she didn’t think about Winter first thing after getting her bearings, but she’d only be lying to herself on this one. She thought about Winter all throughout her shower, and she thought about Winter as she was getting dressed in her work uniform and as she was eating her breakfast. 

It wasn’t voluntary. In fact, she’d been hoping those thoughts would go away, because she did not intend to text Winter until at least finishing her shift, and that would prove to be very difficult if she were having sex flashbacks while trying to take people’s coffee orders.

Just her luck, though, she picked Aeri to be her best friend years ago—which basically meant picking a demon with the incessant need to be the nosiest little fucker alive. So of course she couldn’t just distract herself and go on about her day, instead being forced to have a whole conversation regarding the very person she’s trying to avoid thinking about, all while constantly repeating her firm refusal to give Aeri any details about how the sex went.

Again, even if she wanted to, she doesn’t quite know how much she could say without getting in trouble. You know, NDA and all.

“Fuck you and your stupid stable moral compass, Yu Jimin!” Aeri yells. Jimin thinks it’s way too damn early in the morning for this. “I’m gonna fuck that angel on your shoulder up the ass! You know you can’t leave me hanging like this, I’ll die of curiosity!”

“That’s fine,” Jimin says, much more collected than her best friend, who seems to be having some sort of lack-of-gossip-induced meltdown. “I’ll plan your funeral well, tequila and chocolate fountain and everything, just like you said. Winter will be getting an invite.”

Aeri groans, and Jimin can practically hear her eye-roll through the phone, which makes her smile as merges into the highway.

When she looks up, though, her heart stops.

THIS SATURDAY AND SUNDAY AT JAMSIL OLYMPIC STADIUM:

KIM MINJEONG 2025 WORLD TOUR

SPARK

                 In SEOUL

Jimin’s vision goes blurry. She barely hears it when the car behind her starts honking obnoxiously at her because she’s driving too slow, barely hears it when Aeri goes back to begging her to share details about her hookup.

The issue—the fucking issue—is that said hookup, the girl who took her virginity and blew her goddamn mind for hours last night, the girl who Jimin didn’t recognize but knew was so famous she had to sign an NDA just to be able to fuck her—

Well, Jimin is staring at her face right now. On a billboard by the side of the road. Same captivating eyes, same fucking blonde hair, under the words “world tour” and “Jamsil Stadium.”

World tour?????????? JAMSIL STADIUM????????? The one with a capacity of seventy thousand fucking seats????????? This is the woman Jimin fucked last night????????

Dear God, Yu Jimin is so utterly, unbelievably, insanely fucked.

Chapter Text

There’s this one customer, a nice church ahjumma, who comes into the cafe every morning without fail and orders a coffee—vanilla latte, almond milk—and a banana muffin. Jimin knows her by name and face and could probably make her coffee with her eyes closed and predict, down to the minute, what time she’ll be coming in to get her daily treat.

This morning, though, Jimin is already on her fourth attempt at getting this sweet old lady’s latte right.

Her first try went south pretty quickly when shaky hands had her dropping the bottle of syrup on the counter, making a mess that she knew her coworker would cuss at her about once there were no customers around to hear. The second, she got lost somewhere in her own mind and accidentally poured a double shot of espresso into the cup. She almost got it on the third, but alas, she filled half the cup with whole milk before remembering the ahjumma’s lactose intolerance. 

“What is with you today?” Heeseung asks through clenched teeth as he watches Jimin throw her third cup in the garbage, hands focused on whisking someone’s matcha. “We’re gonna run out of cups by 8 if you keep fucking up.”

Jimin tightens her already-tight apron and runs her hands over her face and hair with a deep breath, already reaching for a fourth cup from the increasingly short pile. “I don’t know, I must be tired. Long night,” she mutters as she presses down on the pump of the syrup.

“Well, get your shit together. How hard can it be to make a damn latte?”

He’s absolutely right. It should not be taking a barista of—she’s lost count of how long she’s worked here; maybe three or four years?—four tries to make the simplest drink possible.

But Jimin has… other things on her mind.

Winter. Minjeong. Kim Minjeong, the singer-songwriter superstar. Same woman who rode her to nirvana less than twelve hours ago.

Jimin had made Heeseung do all the opening tasks by himself while she hid in the breakroom to look her up and confirm that the billboard wasn’t a hallucination as a result of sleep deprivation; Kim Minjeong is an actual idol, and an insanely popular one at that. She debuted at 15 in a temporary girl group after placing first on its preceding survival show, and according to some people in online forums, Minjeong apparently always stood out the most amongst her members due to her mesmerizing beauty. She pursued her solo career immediately after the group met its scheduled end and began taking over the industry all by herself at the young age of 17.

Five years later, here she is: performing for 70 thousand people at the Olympic Stadium in a few hours and sending poor Jimin into a nervous breakdown at work.

“Jimin, dear, are you feeling alright today?”

Jimin sighs as she slides a brown bag and the finalized version of the ahjumma’s vanilla latte across the counter.

“I’m sorry, Hyejin-ssi, I think I have the yips or something. I put an extra muffin in there for your troubles—on me.”

Hyejin smiles warmly at her. Jimin is just thankful that she has good regulars, because she thinks her head will probably explode if she gets yelled at by a customer today.

"Just take care of yourself, alright? Make sure you're getting enough rest and eating well," Hyejin says, and Jimin smiles as she watches her grab her order and turn to leave.

Her smile is short-lived, though, because as soon as the ahjumma is out the door, Jimin's worst nightmare—otherwise known as her best friend—walks right in, iced coffee already in hand.

"Good morning, Yu Jimin!" Aeri greets, a bit too loudly for her taste.

"Hey, hey! No outside drinks!" Heeseung scolds, pointing at the plastic cup in Aeri's hand. Aeri rolls her eyes and takes a sip out of spite.

"Bite me, Heeseung. Hey, who does a girl have to fuck to get a chocolate croissant around here?"

Jimin sighs as she reaches into the pastry trays. "Somehow I highly doubt you came over here for a sweet treat."

"Damn right. You know what I'm here for," Aeri says, grabbing her croissant from Jimin's hand before she can even ring it up. "Give me the deets. Tell me everything. Was it all you ever thought it'd be? Did she Bob your Ross until you painted some happy trees?"

"Uchinaga Aeri, I am working."

"And you came into work with that monstrosity on your neck. Even the ahjussi who runs that laundromat across the plaza can probably tell what you did last night from all the way over there."

Jimin's eyes widen and she immediately reaches for her phone in her pocket to check herself on the frontal camera, and there it is—an angry, dark, unmistakable hickey, very poorly hidden under the collar of her uniform.

Her first thought is that she is absolutely going to kill Kim Minjeong if she ever sees her again. The second is that she is absolutely going to kill Uchinaga Aeri for pointing it out, because now even Heeseung is peeking curiously and laughing at her misfortunes over from where he's making someone's coffee, and she knows she's never going to live this down.

The third is that she might as well kill herself, because what kind of person is so distracted getting ready in the morning that they don't notice a hickey sitting like a fucking hot iron branding on the side of their neck?

She feels her face heat up and, by Aeri's laughter, assumes she's turning red enough to almost match the mark on her neck in shade.

"Alright, you know what—" Jimin starts as she swings the gate open, grabbing Aeri's wrist as soon as she steps out from behind the counter. "Heeseung, I'm going on break."

Heeseung turns around in a flash, already frowning, and Jimin can see the sheer terror in his eyes even as she starts dragging Aeri to the exit. "Right now? We just fucking opened!"

"Kibum's in his office, tell him to get off his ass and help out," she practically yells out, halfway out the door already even though Heeseung's face is begging her not to go. "I'll be right back!"

Aeri is very incompetently holding her laughter when Jimin all but shoves her into the passenger seat of her car in the employee parking lot. She jumps into the driver's seat and lies back with a heavy sigh once she slams the door shut, closing her eyes in an attempt to heal a pounding headache starting to take form.

Entirely too much is happening. Too much for someone who got, at most, half her usual amount of sleep, after exhausting her body for hours. It's a miracle she didn't pass out immediately upon seeing Winter—Minjeong—on a goddamn billboard. This is just pushing her.

But, well, Aeri seems to always find a way to overwhelm her further. Safely within her limits, most often, but still disturbing her peace. Jimin is more than used to it, so keeping her around and in the loop can sometimes be indiscernible from a mild form of masochism, but that's just the byproduct of the choices she's made in her life—which, though it may not look like it right now, she's adequately happy with.

Jimin finds comfort in the knowledge that Aeri seems to also always know what's best for her, and so it all typically turns out okay in the end. Her anxiety-ridden mind never quite allows her to fully remember this, but she tries her best to have faith in her best friend's methods when she can.

Needing something to offset the torturous, tangled mess of thoughts in her head, she turns the key in the ignition and shuffles her playlist, still avoiding Aeri's eyes like the plague.

"D'Angelo. Nice," Aeri says. "Little tip, though: you might wanna play something a little less sensual than neo soul if you're trying not to talk about the awesome sex you had."

Jimin groans, tempted to turn off the music but unwilling to entertain Aeri's teasing, though the latter laughs at her reaction all the same. "Can you be normal? I didn't even say if it was any good, you just made that up yourself."

Aeri shrugs. "I choose to write my own reality in my head. If you find any inaccuracies in it, you're welcome to correct me. I'm all ears."

"You're all annoying," Jimin grumbles, internally cursing her own poor articulation when Aeri grins at her from behind the last bite of her chocolate croissant.

"Not untrue, but beside the point at the moment," Aeri says. "So, you wanna start talking or are we just vibing to R&B in silence until Heeseung comes out to bash your windshield in with a portafilter?"

Jimin rolls her eyes, but her mind betrays her and pushes highly involuntary memories of the night prior to the surface for what seems like the thousandth time this morning.

The unbearably good feeling on her tongue when she slid it over soft nipples. Sinful sounds spilling uncontrollably from Minjeong's mouth as she rode Jimin's face. Minjeong's cunt stretching around her cock, and perhaps Jimin's favorite part: her eyes, brown and seductive as they stared half-lidded into Jimin's wide, entranced own.

So, to conform to Aeri's self-concocted reality, yes. The sex was "awesome," if she were to put it in monumentally simple terms, and Minjeong has led her to discover certain feelings and pleasures she never imagined she'd find herself indulging in.

Which, for obvious reasons, threatens to send her into an even more severe meltdown than if it had sucked. Right now, Jimin almost wishes it had.

"I think," Jimin says slowly, careful consideration carrying every word, "it might be very hard for my next partners to live up to the standard she set last night."

It's amply vague but wholly honest, and when she looks at Aeri, it's almost like watching a child's face when they reach the bottom of the stairs on Christmas morning. Jimin thinks this might be the happiest she's ever seen her. It's ridiculous.

"I couldn't be prouder if I was your dad," Aeri says, smile bigger than the goddamn Empire State Building. She's genuinely, unreasonably emotional about this, and Jimin can tell she's containing squeals and screams of happiness so as to not overwhelm her too much—and the only part of it that surprises her is that Aeri is able to keep calm at all.

"Oh, I'm aware."

"Jimin!" She lands a playful slap on Jimin's arm, giggling and bouncing her legs up and down excitedly. Jimin needs to find a way to get this girl banned from every coffee shop within a 200-mile radius, because caffeine is clearly the last thing she needs to be consuming. "This is huge! I knew you had that dog in you. I knew it."

"Aeri, please," Jimin pleads in vain.

"You just have that look in your eyes. Tall, dark, and handsome, just like in my shitty mafia romance books. I knew there was a dominant alpha wolf behind those nerd glasses!"

Jimin grimaces. There’s so much to unpack in that statement, but she lets Aeri believe whatever makes her heart the happiest.

"Can you try not to make a big deal out of this?"

"Are you kidding? I already have a proud-mom Facebook post and a Times article drafted. Headline: Yu Jimin, 25, finally gets some fucking pussy." She shoots a grin and a wink Jimin's way, and the only response she receives is a stare deadly enough to take out a small country. Not that it bothers her. "So, how was it? Just a quickie or did you follow lesbian tradition and fuck until the windows fogged up? Please tell me she came. I'll be so disappointed if you didn't make her come."

"She came, Aeri," Jimin blurts out without thinking. Aeri's technique of manipulating her through tiring her out until she speaks mindlessly is probably starting to work on her. "Three times," she adds in a mumble, and Aeri almost jumps out of her seat.

"Oh my God! You filthy sex demon! Three times?"

This girl is so goddamn loud, loud enough for Jimin to fear someone might hear her and her crass language even with no one anywhere near the car. Granted, it might just be her anxiety speaking, but who is she to question the panicked voices in her head?

"Relax, will you?" she hisses. It does nothing to calm Aeri.

"No, you have to tell me more! You know I'm too much of a gossip for you to just leave me with these tidbits of information!"

Jimin takes a much-needed deep breath, turning to stare at nothing in particular through the windshield as she wraps her hands around the steering wheel for no real reason. There's a few seconds of a pause where the only voice in the car is SZA's through the speakers, and Jimin hates to admit that Aeri was right about her R&B playlist setting a certain mood she shouldn't be creating so as to not encourage her best friend's misbehavior.

"I’m not telling you anything,” Jimin says decidedly. “I’ve already said more than my ethical standards allow for. Pushing it further is not a good idea for my conscience.”

Aeri groans. She crosses her arms and pouts like a child who had to put a toy back on the shelf at the store. “You’re the least fun person I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks. Can I go back to work now? I think Heeseung might murder me if I stay out here for much longer.”

“Now hold on—” Aeri says, reaching for Jimin’s wrist to stop her from turning the key in the ignition. “Hold, hold. Are you seeing her again?”

Jimin opens her mouth to respond but closes it immediately upon realizing she might want to be careful with her words on this one. How does one explain—without actually saying it—that they’re probably not meeting up with their mindblowing hookup again because they just so happen to be crazy famous? 

One thing’s for sure: she doesn’t need Aeri knowing this right now, NDA or not. Jimin loves her best friend very much, but she could definitely do better at knowing when to be calm about certain things, and Aeri freaking out about the fact that she slept with Kim Minjeong would be the last needed piece in the forming puzzle of a possible mental breakdown.

So she settles for the vaguest option she can think of.

“I… have to think about it.”

Aeri’s initial response is to give Jimin’s wrist a gentle squeeze. Her eyes are softer now, adapting to a more serious tone the conversation shifts into. She then adds, “Babe, you don’t have to keep working yourself to the bone like this. I know I joke about how you’re always studying, but I’ve actually been kind of worried about you. You’re not giving yourself anything to enjoy, and it’s not healthy—”

“I’m fine,” Jimin interrupts. It sounds a bit harsher than she’d intended it to. “I study a lot because I’m focused on my future. Besides, I’m interested in what I learn. That’s my enjoyment.”

She hadn’t exactly intended to use the academic overachiever card to cover up the real reason as to why she has to “think about it” when it comes to whether she’ll see Minjeong again—but now that she thinks about it, that is also part of it and would probably be replacing Minjeong’s celebrity status as the main reason were this a normal situation anyway, so she might as well go with it.

Aeri gives her a look. One that says something like you know I’m right, and yes, Jimin does. But that doesn’t take away her God-given right to persist in her denial of it, which applies to herself as much as it does to Aeri.

“I think your nerdy interests are very valid and important,” Aeri says, tone as slow and gentle as one would use in explaining something difficult to a child, “but you know you’re not exactly the picture of relaxation, and there is much value to finding a hobby that doesn’t involve reading about psychology or moral philosophy or whatever. Namely casually boning a girl who you say made your little guy very happy. Even more than boning, if she meets your… standards. But I gotta meet her to approve that first if that’s the case.”

Good lord. Little guy? This girl is insane. “I’m not dating her, and you’re definitely not meeting her. I don’t need that in my life.”

“Just boning, then. Keep the little guy happy, ya know? Sexual satisfaction is the single best method of stress relief. Trust me, I know.”

Jimin grimaces. She’s still not entirely sure why Aeri thinks she wants to hear about these things—though it’s actually more likely that she doesn’t think that and just uses it to torture her.

She doesn’t say much to Aeri after that. Between her internal descent into insanity and the annoying, 5’5” tall, Japanese demon on her shoulder that is very unfortunately making an irritating amount of sense, Jimin finds that it’s better for her if she goes back to work and takes advantage of its mundanity to allow herself to think. Think about her next move, if there is one—about what the fuck any of this means or what it should mean.

When Jimin goes back inside Kibum is, predictably, not helping, and Heeseung breathes out a sigh of relief that tells her she owes him one. She immediately gets stuck with putting a metaphorical bandaid on whatever seems to be wrong with the espresso machine this morning and once she’s done the line is already way too long for a place with mid-tier coffee, and more than a few of the customers in it are way too grumpy for a Saturday morning—but her brain is almost entirely absent from the physical realm, hands acting on autopilot mode while her mind is working overtime questioning about a hundred different things about her life per minute.

Heeseung makes one too many jokes about the hickey on her neck, most of which are too corny to be funny, and during the slow hours she resumes her deep dive into whoever Kim Minjeong is, albeit with some shame carrying every search. Aeri’s words about picking up a non-academic hobby for the sake of stress relief echo in her head and she scolds herself mentally for even considering it.

Texting Minjeong to thank her and end things respectfully would be the best option, she thinks as she steps into her apartment later in the day ready to hide in her room with no human contact for about three years, and she is almost successful in writing a full-length, coherent text in her head. One that goes both unfinished and unsent because even the thought of it nauseates her to the point she takes barely three bites out of the dinner she makes for herself.

And, as she quickly finds out that night, falling asleep with nothing but Kim Minjeong in her head is not an easy feat.

***

Saturdays make for quiet evenings in the cafe.

Their more chaotic hours are reserved for earlier in the week, of course; typically in the mornings, when people are at their lowest levels of energy on their way to work or class or whatever it is they need caffeine to function for. That's when Jimin finds herself up to her ears in matcha powder and iced americanos—which she finds disgusting, for the record, but that's a conversation for another time.

On Saturday nights, when there's only an hour or two until close and most of the customers are loiterers typing away on their laptops and whoever she’s sharing the shift with is either watching something on Netflix or lazily tapping at some mobile game on their screen, Jimin likes to lean against the counter and read while she waits for someone to order a drink. If she were anyone else, Kibum would likely be on her ass about doing personal things while on the clock, but Jimin always makes a point to keep the whole place as clean as humanly possible and finishes her closing tasks in record time, so she's essentially free to kill time however she so pleases as long as she's not neglecting customers to do it.

Tonight, for example, is nothing special: she's working with Heeseung again, who's been strangely focused on Hay Day in the corner since he finished making his last drink. The faint sound of bluegrass music and cows mooing almost makes it too hard for Jimin to concentrate on the works of Nietzsche, but she's somehow found a way to drown out unwanted noise enough to focus but not so much she misses the sound of the bell above the door should anyone walk in.

On the other hand, drowning out her thoughts is a whole new ability she has yet to master. At the top of her mind these days is, predictably, still the girl she spent the night with a week ago. The one who just so happens to be a monumentally famous singer, and the one she still has not texted. For obvious reasons.

Minjeong's number sits idle in Jimin's list of contacts, virtually untouched save for the time Jimin changed her name from Winter 👅🔥💋 to simply Kim Minjeong. Which isn't to say she hasn't spent several minutes of her free time these past couple of days staring at her phone and wondering if she should say something. The idea alone terrifies her, though, and so she's done her best to keep herself busy with books and assignments and work and anything that keeps her as far as humanly possible from even the concept of opening KakaoTalk.

And, yes, she understands the implications of not having simply deleted Minjeong's number. That's not something she concerns herself with at the moment. For now, she mostly concerns herself with the ethical implications of—Aeri taught her this word—ghosting a girl after sleeping with her. As much as it freaks her out to think that she fucked someone whose name is known by her entire country, the guilt of not texting has been weighing on her, too.

But every time she considers lifting that weight, all she remembers is numbers. The streams she saw while obsessively going through Minjeong's discography, the tens of millions of Instagram followers, the views on her music videos. It all brings Jimin right back to a state of panic, during which she reasons with herself that there's probably some hidden morality in ghosting someone under these circumstances.

Jimin pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and sighs, realizing she lost her place in the paragraph she was reading. She's, once again, distracted her own self with more ease than the clucking chickens on Heeseung's phone ever could.

This is what the past week has exclusively consisted of: Jimin alternates between agonizing over whether to text Minjeong, intensifying her deep dive into Minjeong's career, and accidentally letting her mind slip into way too many minutes of daydreaming about Minjeong. Minjeong, Minjeong, Minjeong. It's exhausting to not remember the last time she went ten minutes without thinking of Minjeong, and she's starting to worry it might be too much on her and start affecting her studies the same way it's mildly affecting her mental state.

She almost cheers when she hears a bell ring as the cafe's door swings open, almost grateful for an opportunity to distract herself with something that keeps her hands and brain busier than reading. It all goes down the drain when her eyes land on the face that walks in, that customer-service smile she was gearing up to flash turning into an immediate frown as soon as those eyes come into view.

She's wearing a face mask and a baseball cap and she'd blend into any crowd with her all-black outfit were it not for the distinct blonde hair she's got tied up in a bun, but Jimin would recognize those eyes anywhere. Big, round, brown, and impossibly soft. So new to her, and yet so unmistakable.

Minjeong.

Jimin stands completely frozen as the figure haunting her dreams casually walks up to the counter and takes her mask off, confirming her fears when the face under it is, indeed, the one of Kim Minjeong. She is most definitely not breathing when Minjeong reaches the counter—especially because she is smiling now, smiling directly at Jimin as though this were any old interaction between customer and barista.

"I'll have a mocha frappuccino, please—extra cream. Extra extra cream. And make sure to supersize that for me."

Good lord. Was that a dick joke?

One week of damn near taking Jimin's brain hostage and the first thing this girl says to her is a fucking dick joke?

Jimin is, decidedly, not breathing.

She looks over at Heeseung, who hasn't bothered to look up from his game at all, and thanks every entity above for it because she very casually asked him if he knew who Kim Minjeong was a few days ago and, based on his answer, she doesn't know if she could handle witnessing her coworker fanboy about the girl she slept with last week.

"Hi," Jimin says plainly, thinking she might explode if she tries anything else. Minjeong smirks, leaning on the counter and slightly bending over as she does. This makes her closer to Jimin, who believes she might collapse just from the extra few inches of proximity.

"What an opener," Minjeong says. "Keep working on those, gorgeous, I know you'll get it right one day."

"How—"

"My best friend is an expert at tracking people down. Works in cyber security, very good with tech." She tilts her head to the side. "Can't say the same for you, since apparently you don't even know how to use your phone."

Jimin takes a deep breath, because out of all the outcomes she had in mind, this was definitely not on the list. In fact, she expected to have been alone in her self-afflicted mental torment, convinced herself that Minjeong couldn't possibly be thinking of her at all and probably just moved onto the next once she concluded that Jimin wouldn't be texting.

But she's here.

"I—" Jimin tries, her mind blanking immediately. "Um. Whole milk?"

Jimin doesn't mean to say it. It just slips out, and she immediately curses herself mentally for it.

Minjeong blinks. "Pardon?"

"For, um. For the coffee."

They stare at each other for a good minute. Minjeong looks like she's trying to decide whether Jimin is joking or just oblivious and seemingly decides on the latter, because she starts laughing at her, not with.

"God, you are so cute. And I love those glasses on you. You should’ve worn them when you fucked me.”

Jimin’s eyes widen and she shoots Minjeong a horrified look. Her crude, carelessly loud statement turns a few heads from customers behind her, and Jimin thanks every possible God above that none of them can see her face.

‘Okay, will you please keep it down?” she pleads in a hiss as she looks around. Heeseung curiously looks up from his phone for a second, but seemingly can’t get a good enough look of Minjeong’s face to be able to tell that she’s, you know, Minjeong. So he keeps to himself.

“Well, you see, I’m just a little confused here. Usually when people leave bite marks all over my tits and wreck my shit with their abnormally large dick, they tend to call me to keep the cycle going a few more times. Know what I mean?”

Jimin really needs to stop hanging out with people who use such excessively vulgar language in public at the same volume they’d use to discuss the weather outside. She doesn’t remember the last time she felt her face heat up this much.

“God damn it— if we’re gonna talk about this right now, can we please do it somewhere else? I would like to keep my job if I can.”

“Talk? Oh, talking sounds wonderful. Would’ve loved to initiate a talk about a week ago, but right now’s good too. Where to, gorgeous?”

Jimin sighs, swinging the gate and holding it open for Minjeong, who gives her a satisfied smile as she walks around the counter until she’s stepping past it. “Heeseung, can you handle this?”

“Yeah, I got it,” he replies mindlessly, then finally looks up from his phone properly. He immediately frowns once he does. “Is that—”

Minjeong gives him a polite smile in response to the look of disbelief on his face. “Yes, sweetheart. What’s your name?”

“Nope, nope,” Jimin says, starting to rush Minjeong through the bar and towards the stock room. “Absolutely not. Keep walking.”

“Well, this one has a stick up her ass. We’ll talk later,” Minjeong says as she lets herself be pushed through the door.

They tread through the stock room to the heavy set of doors in the far back. When Jimin pushes them open, they find themselves behind the shop—it’s as secluded as they can get right now, away from any prying eyes and ears, even if the night air is a bit cold and the area is poorly lit by a lamp on the brick wall.

Jimin releases a deep breath once the doors close. This entire situation is unreal. Minjeong is staring at her with that same wicked grin, like she’s enjoying every part of driving Jimin utterly insane, and Jimin can’t bring herself to speak or even look at her for several minutes.

“Cat got your tongue?” Minjeong asks after they stand in silence for a while. “You know, so to speak.”

Jesus. This girl.

“If I talk, will you please stop referring to genitals euphemistically?"

Minjeong shrugs. “No promises.”

She reaches for the visor of her cap and lifts it off her head, clipping it to the carabiner on her belt buckle and pulling her hair tie out of her hair right after, and it’s only now that Jimin notices that she isn't fully blonde anymore. In fact, what was blonde a week ago seems to be lighter, strands of an almost-silver shade transitioning into a deep dark brown that wraps around the top of her head and cascades down in gradual strands onto the blonde.

It’s beautiful.

“You’re not talking. I might need to bust out the euphemisms again.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just— your hair’s different.”

Minjeong grins, and it looks way too damn attractive on her. “Well, you know. Kicked off a pretty big tour last week, so I thought I’d switch things up. Keep the people on their toes and whatnot. I’m guessing you heard about it, huh?”

Jimin huffs out a laugh, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed under her chest. “Yeah. I heard about it.”

“So can I assume that’s why you haven’t texted or were you just disappointed by my performance?”

“Your—” Jimin almost bursts out laughing at what she’s hearing. The one thing she’s been thinking about more often than Minjeong’s fame is how good it felt to be with her—even the mere suggestion that she was anything less than perfect feels absurd to hear. “Your performance. You did see how much I came, right?”

“Well, seeing there was still some of it dripping down my leg when you left, yes, I think I did,” Minjeong says, and Jimin feels her face heat up at how shamelessly vulgar she is. “Okay, that’s a load off, then. So to speak.”

“You really gotta stop with the sex puns.”

“Hey, I said no promises. Can we go back to the part where you tell me how good of a lay I was? Water my ego flower.”

Jimin winces. She’s definitely way less comfortable with openly discussing sex than Minjeong is, and she definitely doesn’t want to be getting an erection right now so that would be something to avoid.

“No, none of that. Can we just— hi, right? Nice to meet you, officially. My name’s Jimin. Yu Jimin. Not Karina.”

She extends an arm towards Minjeong, whose gaze alternates between her hand and her eyes before slowly accepting the offered handshake. Minjeong’s hand is cold and soft, fingers longer and thinner than Jimin’s, and it feels surprisingly nice to hold.

“Ji-min,” Minjeong tries out. “Yu Ji-min. I guess that does make more sense than Karina, huh?”

“It’s my baptismal name,” Jimin says, dropping Minjeong’s hand.

“You’re a Christian?”

“Catholic. But not really.”

Minjeong nods, eyeing Jimin up and down in a way that makes her a bit self-conscious for a reason she can’t pinpoint. Maybe it’s her whole ensemble; blue apron over a white button up and black slacks as required by the shop’s dress code, hair carelessly tied into a bun. She’s wearing her glasses today, too—they’re thick-framed, black eyeglasses that make her look like a nerd (which isn’t exactly an inapt impression, she’s been told, but she still avoids wearing them out of the house anyway.)

She’s not sure how she feels about being in her not-seeing-anyone-important-today clothes while talking to a rich woman decked out in designer. A bit inadequate, perhaps, and it does help a little that Minjeong is at least dressed casually, but Chrome Hearts is still Chrome Hearts even if it’s just a black hoodie.

“I’m Kim Minjeong, by the way. Not Winter.”

“I know,” Jimin reminds her. Minjeong laughs.

“Yeah, well… I probably should’ve told you a week ago.”

Jimin nods, smiling. “You probably should’ve. I got kinda freaked out there. Hence the, um— ghosting.”

“And I’m not mad at you for that. I mean, I get it, right? Can’t be easy finding out you just fucked some— some huge celebrity, not to stroke my own dick or anything here. I just got so excited to finally fuck someone who didn’t know who I was for once that I didn’t even think about what your reaction to it might be.” She scratches the back of her head, not really looking Jimin in the eye anymore. “Plus, when I’m really horny it’s like every other part of my brain goes off for a bathroom break and all I can think about is coming. I don’t know, I feel bad. I’m sorry.”

Even after filtering through some of the excessive indecency, Jimin’s brain is barely able to process what she just heard. This whole time, she’s thought for sure that Minjeong had either fully forgotten about her or that she’d want to beat her ass next time she saw her. An apology has been entirely out of the range of possibilities in her head.

“You’re apologizing to me?” Jimin asks, brows furrowed. Minjeong nods.

“Yeah… People usually know who I am, so I never really think about what the appropriate response is if someone doesn’t. Lack of oversight on my part.”

“Yeah, but I mean— I mean, not yeah, I think you should be able to live your life without scrutinizing every little step you take.”

Minjeong shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

“Well, either way, I left you hanging. I should be the one apologizing here,” Jimin says, and Minjeong tilts her head to the side as she hears her speak. “I just— I was coming to work the morning after, right? And I was on the highway and drove past this billboard, and it had your face on it, and it said you were performing at Jamsil Stadium— that’s kind of insane, right? So I kinda just short-circuited. It’s not that I didn’t want to text you or anything like that, you were great, I just didn’t know how to deal with all of this— oh God, does it sound like I’m making excuses? I swear I’m not excusing anything, I know I was wrong—”

“Jimin.”

When Jimin’s head snaps up, Minjeong is looking at her with a grin. 

Right. Rambling.

“You don’t have to apologize or explain yourself,” Minjeong says. “I was just being a tease earlier. I told you I’m not mad.”

“Wait, why—” Jimin takes a deep breath, unsteady and cold as she runs her eyes over Minjeong’s amused face in an attempt to detect any signs of lying. “Why’d you find me, then? If not to, like, grill me about ghosting people?”

Minjeong barks out a laugh. “You think that’s why I’m here? Baby, the amount of people I’ve ghosted over the years… I am not one to speak, let’s just leave it at that.”

That’s not exactly ideal to hear from her, but Jimin chooses to ignore it. “Then…?”

There’s a few seconds of a pause before Minjeong takes a slow step closer to Jimin, who would be backing up in fear were she not practically frozen in place by that captivating gaze. 

“You’re cute. Really cute. Your face puts Aphrodite to shame, and you’re a gentleman through and through. In more ways than one…” She reaches for the strap of Jimin’s apron, hooking a finger under it and tugging gently. Jimin’s eyes follow her every move. “And your dick. Jesus. Talk about hung, right? I love a girl with length.”

Jimin clenches her jaw. She cannot be getting hard right now. Besides, what kind of person gets hard just from being told they have a big dick? It’s not like it’s news to her, anyway. Behave yourself, little Jimin.

“I would like to not discuss my penis right now, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Enjoyed? It’s all I’ve thought about for days. You’re like a parasite in my brain, Yu Jimin. You and that fat cock.”

God save me. “Minjeong, please,” she pleads, and it feels kind of weird to say her name out loud like this. To her.

“And that mouth.” Minjeong wraps her fist around the strap of Jimin’s apron, pulling her a step closer. “Like an inmate on death row eating their last meal.”

“Minjeong.”

“You lasted surprisingly long for your first time, too. Almost started wondering if you were lying about it, but I don’t see why anyone would willingly let people believe they’re a 25-year-old virgin. What are you hiding instead, pretty girl? What’s your secret?”

“I don’t have a secret.”

“Oh, come on, tell me. Is it fleshlights? Do you edge that big dick with a pocket pussy?”

Oh, Jimin thinks she might spontaneously combust. 

(The answer’s yes, sometimes, but by God, Minjeong doesn’t need to know any of that right now.)

Minjeong’s voice is almost sultry as she says it, very obviously trying to escalate the situation into something dirtier, and Jimin is very ashamed to admit that it’s working. Especially when she looks up at her with those sparkly eyes, tugging at her apron to get Jimin where she wants her. 

“Are you really trying to make me hard right now? Here?” Jimin asks, shifting on her feet because she feels her cock hardening against her thigh and it’s beginning to get uncomfortable.

“Just making conversation,” Minjeong says, a wicked smile on her lips.

Jimin scoffs. “Right. Then let’s stick to addressing the elephant in the room, maybe?”

Minjeong groans, releasing Jimin’s apron. “That sounds like a lot less fun.”

“I’m not in the habit of avoiding topics that have been plaguing my head for a week.”

Minjeong tsks, pouting, and she reaches out to stroke Jimin’s cheek with her thumb. “Poor baby. Have I been on your mind?”

Jimin feels her face heat up at the contact, as hard as she tries not to be affected by it. “You’re a tease,” she mutters. Minjeong smiles as though she’s proud of herself. 

“Well, I don’t really know what to tell you, gorgeous. I sing and dance and apparently people like watching me do it, so I guess that makes me an idol.” She shrugs. 

“You sound so casual about it,” Jimin says.

“I don’t know, it’s just… my life. Pretty much all of it,” Minjeong says. “I’m a product. You know when companies send out hot women showing cleavage to people’s doorsteps to push some scammy piece of junk? That’s me, except I’m both the hot woman and whatever useless shit she’s selling. That’s how I live.”

“I don’t think you’re useless,” Jimin says, a little quicker than she means to. “I mean—  I don’t think you’re a product either, of course, but your songs are great, Minjeong. Your voice is phenomenal, and you’re obviously a great dancer.”

There’s a subtle smile on Minjeong’s lips. She tilts her head to the side, examining Jimin with slightly narrow eyes. “You mean you listened to my music?”

Fuck. Jimin hadn’t even registered what she was saying. She completely forgot she needed to not expose herself as the obsessive stalker she’s been acting like for the past week.

“Well— you see, it’s just that— you know, I had like— I mean—”

Minjeong laughs. It’s not even subtle, either—she practically bursts out laughing, almost doubled over with her hands on her stomach. This is so wrong, Jimin thinks. She’s struggling to even speak right now, and her face feels way too warm, and Minjeong’s inability to be serious for more than five consecutive seconds is absolutely not making any of it better. It’s almost eerie how much she reminds her of Aeri.

“Baby, I’m just giving you shit,” Minjeong says through the last remaining bits of laughter, slapping Jimin’s shoulder playfully. “Fuck, you’re cute. I love the thought of you going through my songs, looking up my music show appearances on YouTube. It’s cute. Which songs did you listen to?”

“I—” Jimin pauses, thinking over her answer because she knows she might never live any of this down. “Like, all of them? Or at least all the ones I could find on streaming.”

Minjeong cocks an eyebrow. “That so?”

Jimin closes her eyes and nods, overtaken by disbelief that this is her life and in desperate need of at least a few deep breaths. Maybe a cigarette.

She doesn’t notice it when Minjeong takes a few steps closer. It happens too fast—suddenly, Minjeong’s arms are looping around her waist, and Jimin only notices when she feels the knot of her apron being undone on her lower back.

Her eyes snap open, and Minjeong is close. Too close.

“Minjeong—”

“Shh, baby,” Minjeong says, voice low, and Jimin’s breath catches. She needs to stop calling her that. “Tell me what your favorite song was.”

She pulls the neck strap of Jimin’s apron over her head and Jimin has no idea why she lets it happen, even ducking slightly to make it easier. It ends up on the floor, but Jimin can’t bring herself to care.

“It’s—” she starts, sucking in a breath when Minjeong grabs onto the buckle of her belt. She doesn’t move to undo it just yet, but she’s holding it tightly and even tugging a bit and her hands are dangerously close to Jimin’s crotch, so she short-circuits for a second. “L-Lips.”

“Is it now?” Minjeong asks, and she sounds genuinely surprised. Jimin nods. “Huh. Usually people overlook that song.”

“Well, I like ballads, and your voice sounds really nice and soft, and the lyrics are—” Jimin almost goes off on another one of her rambles, powered by nervousness and a bit of trying to keep her dick from hardening, until Minjeong begins to pull the strap of her belt to unbuckle it and suddenly she remembers the last thing this situation she finds herself in at the moment calls for is a tangent. She grabs Minjeong’s wrists to stop her from going further, earning a cocked eyebrow and a look in her eyes that makes Jimin stop breathing. “Minjeong, we can’t.”

Minjeong tilts her head. “Why?”

“Well, first of all, we’re technically in public,” Jimin says, fully pulling Minjeong’s hands away from her belt and tucking its strap back into place. “And… Look, I had a really good time last week. You were great, really, but that was a one time thing I did because I was curious. I can’t keep doing it, I just— I can’t let anything distract me from my studies, alright? It was fun, but I need to keep my focus where it is.”

Minjeong stares at her expressionless, eyes running over Jimin’s face in examination of it. It makes her all too self conscious, in spite of the confidence she just tried to convey. 

“You’re in school,” Minjeong says, though she enounces it as more of a question.

“Grad school.”

“Telling me you’re not only extremely hot but also a nerd isn’t exactly the way to make me not want you, Clark Kent.”

Jimin doesn’t really pick up on the reference at first, and by the time her brain processes it Minjeong is fully reaching for her crotch so it doesn’t really matter. Her chest fills with air immediately upon feeling Minjeong’s hand over her dick, and there’s really nothing she can do about it when she backs her into the brick wall and there’s barely any space between them.

“I think you’re lying to yourself,” Minjeong whispers, mouth so close to Jimin’s that she feels the breath of each word against her lips as Minjeong palms her bulge over her pants. “I don’t know why you’re doing it, but I know you want me.”

Jimin tries to speak, but it gets caught in her throat when Minjeong unbuckles her belt and unbuttons her pants in record speed. The zipper goes down, too, and before Jimin can even think about it Minjeong’s hand is going inside her pants, reaching for her hard cock over her boxers.

“Minjeong—” Jimin gasps, hips involuntarily bucking against the touch as she grabs onto Minjeong’s arm.

Minjeong grins. Leans in even closer, her lips now grazing against Jimin’s parted own. “Your body doesn’t lie,” she whispers into her mouth.

She kisses her. Jimin can’t fight it, as much as she wants to—or tells herself she does. Those lips feel too good on hers, somehow even better than they did the first few times Minjeong kissed her a week ago, still so unbelievably soft and plump that it makes Jimin dizzy.

It doesn’t last long, though, much to Jimin’s dismay. Soon Minjeong is pulling back, giving her one last smile before she drops to her knees. Jimin’s breath hitches at the sight, because Minjeong looks so fucking pretty from this angle, and those eyes make it so she has neither the strength nor the willpower to try to stop it when she hooks her fingers under Jimin’s pants and boxers and pulls them both down at once. Her cock springs out rock hard and proving Minjeong’s point that, no, her body doesn’t lie.

A hand wraps around her lower shaft and Jimin lets out a low moan. In the back of her mind, she hopes Heeseung doesn’t come to check on her—she’s moved past the point of no return, so privacy is the only thing she can pray for at this moment to protect the infinitesimal shred of dignity she has left.

“So fucking big,” Minjeong says as she begins to stroke Jimin’s cock slowly. “How long’s it been since this dick’s gotten sucked, hm?”

Jimin groans, fighting to resist the urge to buck into Minjeong’s touch. “F-Few years…”  

Minjeong grins up at her and leans forward to give Jimin’s tip a single teasing lick. “What a waste,” she mutters. 

Without breaking eye contact, Minjeong stretches her tongue out of her mouth and slaps Jimin’s cock on it a few times. The sight alone has Jimin’s stomach doing turns as she instinctively reaches to rest her hand on the crown of Minjeong’s head.

It’s not like the sensation is a new one. This is something familiar to her. She’s gotten sucked off plenty of times before, even if it hasn’t happened in a hot minute—but Minjeong is a whole different story, and that makes Jimin more nervous than she thinks she should probably be.

But she can’t stop it, either.

Minjeong runs her tongue up the underside of Jimin’s cock, and the warmth has Jimin shuddering as a pair of lips wrap around her cockhead. Minjeong circles the tip with her tongue, hand working the lower shaft in slow pumps.

“Minjeong— fuck—” Jimin gasps. Minjeong hums and pulls back, slightly quickening the pace of her hand to make up for her mouth’s absence.

“My name sounds so good coming out of your mouth, baby,” she says, giving Jimin’s tip a kiss. She smiles at the throaty moan it drags out of her.

And those eyes, Jimin thinks. She’s never seen anything like it, something that so easily overrides even the slightest hint of any thought she has to stick to her original plan. She doesn’t know exactly when she became so weak-willed, but she needs to work on it, because all it’s taking to shut her up is Minjeong’s big brown eyes and the warmth of her mouth as she takes a few inches of Jimin’s cock in, moaning around it like she loves the feeling.

A hand pumps the rest of Jimin’s cock slowly, not yet aiming to get her anywhere but instead giving her time to get Jimin as desperate as possible while getting a good feel for her cock in her mouth and every little way it likes to be pleased. Minjeong works her tongue on the tip with swirls that make Jimin tip her head back and slightly tighten her grasp on the youngest’s head.

It’s a show of restraint, something to make it up to her own brain for the fact that she has nothing of the sort to stop herself from succumbing to the temptation that is Kim Minjeong.

Because, of course, temptation is something particularly difficult to turn away when it finds itself on its knees, looking up at her with doe eyes as if the sight of plump lips stretched around her girth isn’t enough to almost make her come when she’s barely been touched. This isn’t a fair game that’s being played, and something tells Jimin that Minjeong is perfectly aware of just how much inequitable power she holds.

Jimin lets out a moan she’d audibly been trying to keep in, and the subtle, brief upwards curl of Minjeong’s lips around her doesn’t go unnoticed. Minjeong takes her deeper into her mouth, eyes fluttering shut as the tip of Jimin’s cock hits the back of her throat, and the stronger suction has another strangled sound escaping the oldest.

“God, Minjeong— fuck, are you okay? Is this okay?” Jimin struggles to say, prompting Minjeong to open her eyes back up. “I’m— ah— I don’t wanna hurt you. Don’t push yourself.”

Jimin knows how big she is, as much of a brag as that may sound. She can only assume sucking her dick isn’t the easiest feat, and the last thing she’d want is for Minjeong to force herself to take too much just to make her feel good. 

What she doesn’t account for is that Minjeong, too, is well aware of how big she is, and the last thing she wants is for Jimin’s overthinking to get in the way of both of their enjoyments.

She pulls back, tugging Jimin’s shaft at an increased pace as she wipes the spit off her lips and chin with the back of her hand. “Jimin, shut the fuck up and let me suck your cock, will you? Be a good girl for me,” she says.

The fact that she sounds a bit out of breath doesn’t ease Jimin’s mind in the slightest, but the hand stroking her faster only fogs up her mind and—well.

She can’t very well resist when Minjeong talks to her like that. She wants to be good. Again, she needs to work on being harder to persuade, but that’s… for another time.

So Jimin, flustered as all hell, gives Minjeong a nod. She shoots up a satisfied smile before leaning back down, this time taking enough of Jimin’s cock for most of her length to be in her mouth. Jimin groans, hips twitching against her will as she chases more of that feeling.

It doesn’t take much longer until every inch is enveloped by the silky warmth of Minjeong’s mouth, and while Jimin has no doubt that she’s mostly taking her cock in its entirety because she wants to prove that she can, there’s just no way she can complain.

It feels too good, the way Minjeong hollows her cheeks around her like she’s still trying to suck her deeper even when she’s as deep as she can be.

“Fuck, Minjeong, feels so good,” Jimin breathes out, barely holding control of her own thoughts anymore. 

Her hips start bucking slowly, gently, in time with the experimental speed at which Minjeong bobs her head. Minjeong seems to approve, because her head only moves faster like Jimin allowing herself to finally let loose a little is encouragement to try and get her to come faster.

It’s working. Jimin feels herself getting closer and closer to the edge by the second, and she stands no chance when Minjeong looks up at her as she’s bobbing her head faultlessly as though weaponizing her knowledge of how much of an effect her gaze alone has on Jimin. 

“Baby, I’m—” Jimin swallows, eyes shutting tightly as her brows furrow. “I’m close, Minjeong, fuck—”

Minjeong hums around her, the vibrations of it sending a shiver up Jimin’s spine. Her cock throbs violently in Minjeong’s mouth at the sensation of her quickening pace, and Jimin wishes she could help the way her grip strengthens around the crown of Minjeong’s head but she can’t stop herself from pushing down on it, chasing release.

Jimin is practically fucking her throat now, and Minjeong is taking her so well, lips moving from base to tip in wordless insistence that Jimin keeps at it. She looks down at Minjeong and almost comes from looking at those tear-coated eyes alone, in disbelief that someone can look this gorgeous.

“God, fuck, you’re so pretty,” Jimin grunts. “I’m coming—”

With one last guttural groan, Jimin withdraws her hips at the same time she pulls Minjeong’s head back, and the latter wraps her hand around her shaft before Jimin even gets the chance to do anything further.

“Don’t waste it, baby,” Minjeong says, voice hoarse, her lips and chin coated in her own spit. She opens her mouth wide and sticks her tongue out with Jimin’s tip positioned right over it as she strokes her cock rapidly, and it’s yet another sight Jimin knows will be stuck in her mind for God knows how long. Because fuck.

She releases a deep moan as she comes, vision blurring with the strength of her orgasm washing over her. Ropes of cum land on Minjeong’s tongue, some on her lips, and she keeps up the back and forth of her hand until she’s sure she’s milked Jimin for everything she’s got, until Jimin is whimpering and tapping the back of her head gently. 

Minjeong stands up slowly soon after she stops stroking her, and before she can do or say anything Jimin has the collar of her shirt wrapped tightly around both her hands, pulling Minjeong closer in a move so sudden that it nearly takes her breath away.

Their lips clash and Jimin, clearly still drunk out of her mind on the aftermath of her climax, barely breathes as she initiates a kiss that feels as deliberate and sensual as it does rushed. She kisses Minjeong like she’s been craving it for years, like what remains of her cum on swollen lips serves as evidence of the power Minjeong holds over her mind—and getting to taste it feels like nothing if not acceptance.

Though surprised, Minjeong kisses her back, hands finding Jimin’s shoulders as the oldest grabs the back of her neck. 

They don’t voice these thoughts, but they realize at about the same time that this is the first time Jimin’s initiated a kiss. Jimin becomes shy about having done it like this, claiming her lips like a hungry animal—but Minjeong seemingly knows her well enough to know that’s where her mind would end up and doesn’t let her think twice about it, already pushing her tongue into Jimin’s mouth as her arms wrap around her neck.

Jimin kisses Minjeong like she’s just gotten rid of all her fears, and Minjeong kisses Jimin like she owns her. Together, it feels like reassurance. A thank-you and an apology all at once. For everything.

They’re both breathing heavily when they part. They still hold onto each other like they need it to stand upright, looking into each other’s eyes as they take a minute to process everything. Jimin is, unexpectedly, the first to speak.

“Hi,” she says, barely above a whisper, her chest heaving. Minjeong chuckles softly, because of course she does, and the sight of her pretty smile makes Jimin’s heart flutter for reasons she wishes she didn’t have to be facing right now.

“Hey,” Minjeong replies, reaching to hold Jimin’s face so she can gently stroke her cheek with her thumb. “Are you really the type to say hi after sex? I’m starting to rethink my choices.”

Jimin laughs, and she feels her cheeks heating up all over again. “You’re so stupid.”

“I’m not the girl with her cock out right now.”

Jimin rolls her eyes, though she can’t hold back her smile as she pulls her boxers and pants up and tucks herself back in. Minjeong wipes any remaining traces of spit off of herself while Jimin picks up her apron off the floor and ties it back on after dusting it off.

It then hits Jimin that she has no idea how much time has passed since they went out back. She enters a brief state of panic, thinking surely Heeseung is about ready to come out with a pot of hot coffee to throw at her, before she checks her phone and lets out a sigh of relief that there’s still five minutes left until close.

“I, uh—” she starts, suddenly becoming shy when Minjeong turns to look at her. “I gotta go. The shop closes soon, and if I’m not there to do my closing tasks I’m pretty sure Heeseung is gonna show up at my house with a knife tonight. That boy barely likes doing his own work, let alone other people’s.”

“Aw, but I’m having so much fun.” Minjeong pouts and takes a few small steps towards her. “Can you at least tell me if I changed your mind?”

Jimin purses her lips as Minjeong gets closer. “It’s complicated. I have… things I need to think about.”

“Let’s think about it together, then,” Minjeong says, a smile tugging at her lips. Jimin is sure she means to hide it, but she can practically smell the mischief on her. “I’m free right now, if you’re not doing anything after this.”

“No, no—” Jimin says, taking Minjeong’s wrist right as she begins reaching for the strap of her apron again—which, of course, only deepens her pout. “I don’t trust you. I need to think about it, not fuck about it.”

“Who said anything about fucking? You think I can’t hold a conversation with you without trying to get in your pants?”

“Is that a trick question?” Jimin asks with a quirked brow, and Minjeong gives her a slap on the shoulder, though they both laugh.

“Come on, gorgeous, let’s just… have a sit down. We can just talk.”

Jimin tilts her head to the side, still skeptical. “Just talk?”

“Just talk. Pinky promise,” Minjeong says, holding out her pinky. Jimin rolls her eyes but loops hers around it anyway, because who is she to not take a pinky promise? 

“Fine. Just talk.” Jimin turns to unlock the door to the stock room. “But you better not get mad when I reject the move I know you’re gonna make on me.”

She goes inside and holds the door open for Minjeong, who scoffs as she walks past her. “Please, like you could resist this,” she says, making a show of swaying her hips a bit with every step. Jimin smiles.

When they come out of the stock room the cafe is empty save for Heeseung already mopping the floors in anticipation of closing time, which Jimin guesses is two minutes away at most. Jimin walks Minjeong to the door, hyperaware of the fact that her coworker is looking at her like it’s his first time seeing another human in years, and once they reach it Minjeong turns around on her heels quick enough to make Jimin jump back just slightly.

“Minho’s waiting for me outside,” she says. That poor man, Jimin thinks. Not even part of his job.

Jimin nods. “My place?”

Minjeong nods back. “Your place.”

“Alright. I’ll be out in a bit, I just have to—”

Minjeong kisses her. It’s abrupt—she tugs on Jimin’s apron to pull her down, and though surprised Jimin follows her first instinct and puts her hands on Minjeong’s waist.

Jimin thinks she might like her lips a little much. It’s getting to be a problem, and it definitely doesn’t help that Minjeong enables it so happily.

When they part, Minjeong has the biggest grin on her. Jimin thinks she’s beautiful, she always is, especially when she smiles, but all she can focus on right now is the fact that this girl just kissed her in front of her fucking coworker. Who is staring at them with the biggest what the fuck face she’s ever seen on anyone.

“What the hell was that?” Jimin whisper-shouts through clenched teeth, brows furrowed and eyes a bit wide.

Minjeong’s smile doesn’t leave her face. She places another quick peck on Jimin’s lips, and Jimin is probably going to blow up. “Insurance.”

She turns to walk out the door as soon as she says it, only turning back briefly to give Jimin a wink before fully leaving her flustered self to deal with the mess. The mess being Heeseung, standing a few feet away with a knowing smile that makes Jimin want to knock his teeth out. Is she… in charge of handing out NDA’s now? Is this how it starts?

“So…” Heeseung starts. Jimin wishes he wouldn’t. “You’re friends with Kim Minjeong now?”

Jimin sighs, lips still tingling with the ghost of Minjeong’s. She looks out into the parking lot where she easily spots Minjeong by simply searching for the most expensive-looking car, though her main objective is really to avoid Heeseung’s eyes because she knows there’s no way she’s living this down.

“Something like that.”

***

"No funny business," Jimin had said. Once out loud and over and over in her head, replaying it like a promise on a broken record—and for a while, she has confidence in her ability to upkeep that. She really does. She trusts herself and her own self-control, and throughout the entire drive home her faith in the prospect of her previously-agreed-upon conversation with Minjeong only grows stronger.

What she doesn't take into account is that she, evidently, was right about being unable to trust Minjeong. 

"Let me hear those pretty sounds, gorgeous."

Jimin whines.

It's fine when Minjeong gets out of the car and Jimin's waiting for her in the lobby of her apartment building. It's fine on the elevator ride up, even, when Minjeong surprisingly keeps her distance until they reach Jimin's floor. It's fine when Jimin punches in the code to her door, and for a minute there she almost smiles to herself, proud that they're about to successfully start a real, productive conversation.

It feels good. Up until she closes the door. 

As soon as it clicks shut, Minjeong grabs her by the shoulder and flips her around so fast it gives her whiplash. Her brain doesn't even process the change in positions before she's pinned against the door, hungry lips practically gnawing at her neck and a hand palming her dick through her pants.

For what it's worth, she tries to resist. Pushing through dizziness and a lust-driven haze, she puts her best effort into an admittedly weak attempt at prying Minjeong's hands off of her—but it's useless. Minjeong quickly has a hand tight around Jimin’s wrists with a strength she would've never expected her to have, grinding her thigh against the hardening bulge in Jimin's pants as she mocks her for the desperate sounds that come out of her.

And now… this.

Jimin, sitting on the edge of her bed with her pants and shirt long gone. Minjeong is kneeling between her thighs and teasing her cock through her boxers, and Jimin doesn't think she's ever been so painfully fucking hard in her life. 

It was supposed to be a conversation. Jimin doesn't know what this is yet, but she knows it's most definitely not a conversation. Whatever it is, though, it's been too long. Too goddamn long since Minjeong started touching her, and she hasn't even been granted the privilege of taking her cock out of her underwear.

Minjeong leans down and Jimin knows what's coming before it even happens. A warm tongue finds the outline of her swollen tip and Minjeong places the gentlest kiss on it, even suckling subtly as she stares up in anticipation of Jimin's reaction to it. The fabric is thin and Jimin is sensitive, always too sensitive, only made worse by the fact that they've been at this for longer than she would be able to tell—so when she feels that faint, moist pressure on her cock, she can't help the whimper that escapes her and the way her hips buck up in further pursuit of the warmth.

Lips curl up into a smile against her dick and Minjeong pushes Jimin’s hips back down before pressing her tongue firmly over her slit.

"That feel good, baby?"

Jimin nods, tightening her hold on the bedsheets around her. Half of her energy is going into keeping her eyes open and the other half prevents her from bringing her hands to her cock and pulling it out her own damn self.

(She tried earlier, once right after Minjeong had her take her pants off and once in the early stages of her teasing. Both times ended in Minjeong roughly grabbing her wrists and pushing them away, and Jimin wants to be good so she keeps her hands by her thighs on the bed where she knows Minjeong wants them.)

"Feels good? Good. Good girl," Minjeong says, wrapping her lips around the side of her shaft. She moves her tongue up and down on the spot, fingers stroking the lower part of her cock way more gently than Jimin would like her to.

A bit of precum leaks out of her, soaking the fabric of her boxers further along with traces of saliva, and the chuckle Minjeong lets out against her cock has her throwing her head back with a strangled moan.

Minjeong pulls away for a proper view. "What's this?" she asks in a mocking tone, reaching to press a fingertip onto the newly-formed wet spot over the tip of Jimin's cock. "You gonna make a mess just from being touched through your underwear?"

"'m not," Jimin replies in a whimper, a bit too quickly, letting out something like a sob when Minjeong applies more pressure. 

"Then why’s this getting wet?" She runs her thumb over Jimin's tip and down her upper shaft. "You want me to take this out, don't you? Want your dick in my hand, in my mouth? In my pussy?"

Jimin nods frantically, cock throbbing just at the thought. "It hurts…"

"Poor thing," Minjeong coos, leaning down to run her tongue over Jimin's cock. Jimin whines and her hips instinctively draw back as though trying to escape the touch, only for Minjeong to hold her in place as she sucks a little harder than before.

Jimin's not sure how much more she can take. Minjeong's right, she is making a mess, feels more precum leak out of her cock the longer she gets teased, and it's embarrassing. Her body feels like it's on fire, face flushed and a coat of sweat draped over too much of her skin, all without having been touched properly.

She knows it's pathetic to be this sensitive, knows she shouldn't be feeling like she's nearing the brink with her underwear still on. But Minjeong… is something else. Jimin can't remember the last time she's felt like she might explode from trying to contain her own arousal like this, if she ever has. The combination of too much and not enough makes for a sensation she doesn't quite understand—all she knows is that, as confusing as it may be, she likes it too much for her brain to even be able to process.

Minjeong traces her tongue over a bulging vein and Jimin whimpers. "Minjeong, please— I'm gonna—"

Her words are interrupted by a moan when Minjeong rubs the tip of her cock, sucking on that same vein, and Jimin thinks the look in her eyes alone as she stares up at her could drive her to dangerous heights of insanity.

"You're gonna what, Jimin? Gonna come in your boxers? Are you that desperate?"

She pulls back completely and rises to her feet between Jimin's legs. Jimin lets out a sob at the lack of stimulation, shutting her eyes tightly as Minjeong cradles her jaw in her hand. 

Minjeong breathes out a chuckle. "Look at me," she orders, tone sounding more rigid even behind the laughter, and when Jimin opens her eyes they're watery and, yes, desperate. Minjeong smiles. "All those sounds you keep making. So pretty, and so pathetic. How pitiful."

Jimin can't help it; she wants to be touched. Her cock, constricted in her damp boxers and almost soaking wet from her own fluids, practically pounds with the desire.

Hesitantly, she reaches under Minjeong's shirt and rests a hand on her waist. The latter cocks an eyebrow, eyes following her every move, but generously allows it. Jimin knows better by this point and doesn't take that as any sort of permission to push her limits, so her left hand stays where it is on the mattress.

In her aching state, searching hopelessly for ways to ease her tormentous arousal, Jimin's brain pushes through the fog and somehow forms a risky idea she vaguely hopes she won't regret.

It’s something new to her in the sense that she’s never tried it before, but it happens to always be in her mind and she’s long been wondering how it’d feel to say. Minjeong seems like she would like it if her dominant attitude towards Jimin is anything to go by, and Jimin figures it might be the perfect way to escalate this—whatever they’re doing—into something as experimental as they like.

"Mommy…" she nearly whispers, voice small and weak and pleading, and some type of wicked amusement lights up Minjeong's eyes as she looks down at her. "Please touch me. I need it. Need you…"

The slight grin on Minjeong's lips widens. "Yeah?" she says, tucking a stray strand of sweat-dampened hair behind Jimin's ear. The touch is gentle and innocent, but it burns all the same where her fingertips graze against Jimin's skin. "You want mommy to touch your cock?"

The words alone shoot a jolt of electricity through Jimin's body and up the length of her cock, and she whimpers. Her response is a nod and her hand tightening just slightly around Minjeong's waist. "Please."

Minjeong reaches down and gently places her hand over Jimin's cock through her boxers. It's too light of a touch, barely even there, but Jimin is sensitive enough that it makes her squirm under it, and Minjeong tuts.

"You're so hard, baby," she says softly, leaning in until their faces are inches apart. "Want a kiss?"

She releases Jimin's face to hold the side of her neck instead and Jimin nods vehemently, surging forward hungrily, but Minjeong is quick to draw back before their lips can touch. She shakes her head in disapproval, and Jimin knows her mistake without needing it pointed out.

"Yes," Jimin says, now settled in place and waiting patiently. 

"Yes, what?"

Jimin exhales a shaky breath. "Yes, mommy," she says. "Kiss me, please. I'll be good."

A satisfied smile spreads across Minjeong's lips and she rewards Jimin by pushing her hand a bit harder against her cock. Jimin gasps, hips leaning into the touch as Minjeong presses their lips together in a soft kiss.

Minjeong is unhurried with her movements, delicate and thorough as though trying to engrave the feeling of their intertwined lips into her brain. She swipes her tongue across Jimin's bottom lip, sucks it into her mouth, and Jimin is way too desperate for this slow pace she's set—her cock is still throbbing painfully, occasional light squeezes serving as its only mild form of relief, and she feels like a hungry animal being fed its prey small piece by small piece when Minjeong doesn't give her much more than a gentle kiss. 

In other words, she wants to kiss Minjeong like her tongue is starved of the taste of her mouth and in need of it to survive. Even lightly sinks her nails into Minjeong's skin, subconsciously pulling her closer by the waist. Minjeong does the same by tangling her fingers with Jimin's hair, half to deepen the kiss and half to keep her grounded because she can tell in the way Jimin kisses her back that this rhythm is killing her.

And Jimin tries her best, she really does, but at the end of the day she's only human; and a very needy one at that. And, in her earnest defense, her brain doesn't register what she's doing until she feels a hand wrap around her left wrist and practically yank it away from her own crotch.

It's only when Minjeong pulls back abruptly to look at her that Jimin realizes she'd attempted to bring her hand to her cock, and a new type of fear washes over her eyes as she looks up at Minjeong. God, she didn't mean to, she really didn't—it's almost like her hand developed a mind of its own to try and relieve some of her sexual frustration—and now the look in Minjeong's eyes as she looks back at her tells her she's in trouble.

Minjeong tightens her hand around Jimin's wrist enough for it to hurt. Jimin whimpers, instinctively trying to twist out of Minjeong's hold, but she's too weak for it both physically and in will.

"I didn't say you could do that."

Minjeong's tone is calm. Too calm. Jimin, overtaken by a strange sense of fear, finds herself unable to react.

The dormant hand still covering her crotch squeezes and Jimin cries out, squirming, cock throbbing both in pain and too much fucking pleasure for her to even process. Minjeong reaches for the back of her neck to keep her in place with the hand previously holding her wrist.

"Minjeong, please—" she whimpers, looking into Minjeong's eyes with glossy, pleading ones of her own.

Minjeong tilts her head to the side and squeezes her cock harder. Jimin instinctively grabs onto her arm, arching her back as a strangled moan escapes her throat.

"Keep those hands on the bed," she says, voice lower and firmer and unwaveringly even. "Or on me, when I let you. Unless you want me to tie them up. Do you want that?"

Jimin swallows dryly, because she finds herself to not be opposed to the idea at all. Even as Jimin shakes her head, she sees it in the quirk of Minjeong's eyebrow that she's probably as readable as an open book. But they both shelve this thought for later.

"Then repeat that back to me, baby," Minjeong orders.

Jimin's breath hitches.

"I won't touch myself," she says, puppy eyes scanning over every inch of Minjeong's face for a sign that she's saying the right things. "I promise. I'll be good, mommy. Please, just— need you to touch me. My cock hurts so much."

A slight smile plays at Minjeong's lips. She gently scrapes her nails against the back of Jimin's neck, sending shivers down her spine.

"Open that pretty mouth for me."

Obediently, Jimin spreads her lips apart, even making a show of sticking part of her tongue out in a way that clearly amuses Minjeong as she lets go of Jimin's neck and instead places her thumb onto her tongue. Jimin closes her lips around it and immediately begins to suck lightly on the digit. 

Jimin's eyes flutter shut, because her mouth feels so full with Minjeong's thumb in it—and to that there's a fondness she didn't really know she harbored. 

"Pretty girl," Minjeong whispers, pushing her thumb further into Jimin's mouth. "Eyes open, baby. Keep looking at me."

Jimin obeys. Minjeong chuckles under her breath, drinking in that desperate look in her doe eyes, and the sign of satisfaction Jimin catches in that dirty smile has her sucking harder, hollowed cheeks and all as she runs her tongue up the underside of Minjeong's thumb. 

Without thinking, she reaches to grab onto Minjeong's wrist to ensure she keeps it where it is. Minjeong doesn't seem to mind, smile growing a bit wider, and she squeezes Jimin's cock just for the sake of feeling the vibrations of a needy whimper around her thumb and watching as the oldest struggles to keep her eyes open.

"That's it…" Minjeong whispers. Jimin sucks her in impossibly deeper like she can’t bear not to have every quarter inch of Minjeong’s thumb in her mouth. “You like having things in your mouth, don’t you?”

Jimin feels pathetic about it, but still nods in agreement. Minjeong breathes out a sinfully attractive chuckle and suddenly her hand is moving over Jimin’s crotch, fingers hooking under the waistband of her boxers and tugging until her cock springs out flushed and embarrassingly wet from her own precum, and Jimin’s breathing quickens in anticipation as her boxers are dragged down her legs and blindly discarded.

Her lips are a dark shade of red, a bit swollen and glistening with her own spit when Minjeong pulls her thumb out. Jimin misses the feeling immediately, but the incoming complaint dies in her throat as she watches Minjeong quickly and shamelessly undress herself until she’s standing fully nude and strikingly beautiful in front of her.

Jimin runs her gaze over Minjeong’s thighs to the curves of her waist, mesmerized by the sight of her as though seeing it for the very first time, cock twitching when her eyes are met with the glistening skin of her inner thighs. Her mouth practically waters as she makes her way up to a pair of tits, still bearing the faintest hint of light-red marks in the shape of Jimin’s mouth as evidence of the filthy type of desperation she submerged herself in a week ago. Minjeong’s face is a wonder, too, probably what steals Jimin’s attention the most as her eyes trace every intricate detail like it was hand-sculpted by the gods, and it’s what keeps her attention locked as Minjeong treads towards her in slow steps and takes a seat on her lap.

Without warning, Minjeong wraps slim fingers around Jimin’s girth and every muscle in her body tenses with the effort to keep still. A gasp escapes her, hands instinctively reaching for the youngest’s hips in search of something to hold onto.

“Oh f-fuck— please—”

Minjeong chuckles. “Begging already? I’ve hardly touched you.”

She pumps Jimin’s cock once, twice, watches as precum leaks from its slit and drips down her shaft, savors the needy breaths that Jimin lets out at finally being touched. Minjeong’s hand is slow, too fucking slow, stroking her nice and gentle as though trying to immortalize the feeling of it in her mind. Jimin keeps her eyes on Minjeong’s face, admiring the entranced expression on it as she watches her own hand move up and down Jimin’s hard length, and the sudden urge to kiss those parted, plump lips merges with the throbbing pain of her cock to overwhelm her senses further.

“Pretty cock…” Minjeong mutters mindlessly, hand moving in a corkscrew motion at that same painfully slow pace, then looks up at Jimin with a small smile that says she hadn’t exactly meant to voice her thoughts out loud. She cradles Jimin’s jaw in her free hand and leans in to place a quick kiss on her lips, still holding her as she pulls back. “Pretty girl, pretty cock.”

Jimin’s breath hitches and her hands tighten just a bit around Minjeong’s hips. “Thank you, mommy,” she says, and she’s as shy as she is polite, still not exactly used to how the name feels on her tongue.

She’s rewarded with slightly quicker tugs at her cock, only a subtle change of pace but still making her hips twitch, and Minjeong leans in for another peck to her lips. Not long enough, never long enough, but Jimin still drowns in its softness.

“So well-mannered,” Minjeong whispers against her lips, giving her another quick taste of her own before pulling back to look at her in those desperate puppy eyes. “Good girl…”

Jimin watches Minjeong’s eyes, watches them snap back and forth around her face, watches a mysterious look swim around in them and dilate her pupils like a pleasurable idea has sprung to her mind and she’s trying to figure out whether to execute it. She runs her tongue over her own lips, shifting slightly on Jimin’s lap, adding a subtle amount of pressure to her grip around her cock, and Jimin waits patiently.

“…Good boy.”

Jimin’s chest fills with a breath that’s shaky and unstable when it comes out through her mouth. She tries to contain the overwhelming effect Minjeong’s words have on her but it twists in her stomach and her cock throbs painfully, making her whimper and jerk her hips up. 

“Fuck— again, please—”

Minjeong smiles. “Who’s my good boy?”

Jimin’s head tips back as a loud, deep moan escapes her throat, precum spilling from her cock and onto Minjeong’s gradually quickening fingers.

“Answer me, baby.”

“I’m— g-good, I’m your good boy…”

Minjeong hums, nodding slowly with a proud smile at the visible effort Jimin makes to keep looking at her.

“You like that?” she asks softly, hand quickening its pace, and when Jimin nods she leans in for another slow-paced kiss that has her dizzy with desire.

Jimin is so distracted by those soft lips she barely notices it when Minjeong holds onto the base of her cock and lifts herself up as she lines it with her entrance. She only notices when Minjeong sinks down suddenly, taking most of her cock at once, and Jimin releases a gasp into her mouth.

“I missed you,” Minjeong whispers against Jimin’s lips as she starts on a slow roll of her hips, taking Jimin further inch by inch. “Missed your dick…”

They moan simultaneously when Minjeong bottoms out, hands grabbing at Jimin’s shoulders for leverage.

Jimin, hopelessly lost in her own head, can only run her hands up the youngest’s body, feeling every soft curve and bone she can on her way to Minjeong’s breasts. Minjeong gasps and her hips stutter when Jimin runs her thumbs over sensitive nipples, glossy eyes still locked on her half-lidded own.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text,” Jimin finds it in her to say, and it comes out quieter than she’d intended it to as she gives Minjeong’s breast a gentle squeeze as an additional apology. 

Minjeong is evidently better at keeping her composure—her hold tightens around Jimin’s shoulders and she gasps softly, gradually quickening the pace of her hips. The amount of control she has over both herself and Jimin makes the latter lose her mind bit by bit.

“Are you?” Minjeong asks, cupping Jimin’s cheek gently. She runs her thumb over her bottom lip and never in her life has Jimin felt a more desperate urge to take something into her mouth before this. “What should we do about that?”

Jimin doesn’t break eye contact as she wraps a hand around Minjeong’s wrist and tugs it down. Minjeong allows it to happen and only really realizes what Jimin’s doing when her hand is being pressed against the oldest’s throat, by which point she gives her an amused smile as her fingers wrap around Jimin’s neck. 

“Punish me,” Jimin says, tone low and almost pleading. Minjeong looks at her like she gilded the gates of heaven.

“Yeah?” She snaps her hips down faster, dragging a strangled cry out of Jimin. “Is that how you like it, baby?”

Jimin’s own hips buck up involuntarily in search of release, and Minjeong squeezes her neck in a gentle way that makes her cock throb.

“Please,” she whimpers. Minjeong smiles and lowers her hand slightly just for the sake of having space to suck and bite at the skin of Jimin’s neck. 

She’s much less forgiving about it, anything but gentle as she sinks her teeth into that sensitive spot under Jimin’s jaw that she knows gets her going. Her intention with it is clear, and Jimin should probably care more than she does because she knows she’ll have another dark mark to carry around for God knows how long—but, strangely, the thought of it only makes her feel like she’s getting closer to the edge.

The bedframe creaks in time with the increasingly quickening roll of Minjeong’s hips. She finishes off her attack on Jimin’s neck with a soft, wet kiss and pushes onto her shoulders, forcing a sound between surprise and pleasure out of her when her back hits the mattress. 

“You don’t know how often I thought about you this whole fucking week,” Minjeong whispers in Jimin’s ear, then pulls back with a hand flat on the oldest’s chest as she continues to ride her at that same speed. “My toys aren’t big enough, fuck. And none of them make sounds as pretty as yours.”

As if on cue, Jimin whimpers at the praise, weakly grabbing at Minjeong’s arm in a messy attempt to get that hand back around her neck. Minjeong has other plans, though, pulling her hand back to bring it down onto Jimin’s cheek in a light slap. Jimin gasps, cock throbbing inside Minjeong’s cunt and embarrassment taking over her as Minjeong lets out a breathy chuckle at her reaction.

“None of my toys have a pretty face for me to turn red like this.” 

The sound of another smack followed by a deep moan fills the room when Minjeong slaps her again, a bit sharper this time as she rocks her hips harder. 

Jimin’s hands find the curves of her waist, squeezing to encourage a faster pace. Minjeong slaps her again and the sounds she lets out in response keep getting whinier and louder and more desperate with every hit.

Minjeong breathes out a laugh as she grabs Jimin’s jaw roughly. “Taking it like such a good boy, aren’t you? Fuck, Jimin—” Her words falter as her release becomes evidently closer, and Jimin lets out a desperate whimper, fingers tightening around her waist.

“Again,” Jimin manages to say, whiny and quiet and dripping with embarrassment. Minjeong’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Again?”

“Slap me again,” she pleads. Minjeong smiles, a wicked and dirty thing that makes Jimin dizzy because she is so insanely fucking attractive. 

Minjeong complies. It’s the hardest slap yet, as though she’s been holding back before allowing herself to indulge in the naked depravity of her desires, and Jimin can only whimper when her body reacts by pulling at the rubber band in her stomach until she feels like it’s about to snap. Minjeong seems to notice when Jimin starts bucking her hips up against her desperately, a deep moan escaping her throat as she tries not to lose her mind at the warm feeling of Minjeong’s cunt around her.

“Minjeong—”

“You close?” she asks, and Jimin nods. “Come up here, baby.” 

Not without difficulty, Jimin pushes herself up on her elbows, getting back to her previous sitting position. Minjeong immediately claims her lips in a hungry, sloppy kiss, and Jimin’s hand crawls up her torso to her chest to massage her tits.

“You’ve been so good,” Minjeong pulls back to whisper, chuckling when Jimin immediately tries to dive back in like she can’t get enough of kissing her. “Wanna come for me, pretty girl?”

Jimin nods, hiding her face in Minjeong’s neck. She places a few wet kisses on its curve and Minjeong buries her fingers in her hair in a tender caress. “Out loud, darling. Come on,” Minjeong orders.

“Wanna come for you, mommy…” Jimin says timidly, muffled against Minjeong's neck and followed by a soft gasp when Minjeong runs her hand down to her back and gently scrapes her nails against it.

“Mmm, good. Let me see that pretty face.”

Obediently, Jimin pulls back. Her lips are parted and her cheeks are a light red tint that make her look even more desperate somehow, and Minjeong smiles when she sees it, reaching to gently stroke Jimin’s cheek with her thumb. 

“Come inside me,” Minjeong whispers. Between this and the unbearably good friction that comes with her bouncing up and down on Jimin’s cock as quickly as she can, the oldest can hardly control herself. “And don’t stop looking at me.”

A thumb slips into Jimin’s mouth again and she immediately closes her lips around it with a moan, arms wrapping tightly around Minjeong’s waist as she bucks up into her cunt as best she can. It’s sloppy and Jimin is definitely too weak at the moment to keep at it with any coordination, but Minjeong’s gasps and whimpers only encourage her to keep going.

It only takes a few more thrusts for Jimin’s hips to stutter, and she lets herself go still on the bed as she spills inside of Minjeong, releasing hurried breaths with every whimper she lets out around the thumb in her mouth. 

She’s sensitive as all hell and it doesn’t help that Minjeong keeps grinding down on her cock, milking every last drop of cum until her walls are tightening and making it very hard for Jimin to keep looking her in the eyes as she comes hard around her cock.

The roll of Minjeong’s hips gets slower and slower and eventually comes to a cease once she becomes too sensitive to keep going, and only then does she pull her thumb out of Jimin’s mouth. It’s a lamentable loss for the latter, who would’ve probably whined about it had both her mind and body not been so exhausted—but she begrudgingly accepts the lack of oral stimulation as Minjeong pushes her onto her back on the mattress and collapses on top of her with a pleased sigh.

They lie in silence for a bit, allowing their chests to rise and fall at a gradually steadying rhythm against each other. Minjeong reaches to play with Jimin’s hair and Jimin’s fingers squeeze her hips in a subtle, impressively soothing massage of sorts. Her cock has begun to soften inside Minjeong, but she figures that being the one to pull out would most definitely be a mistake on her part, all things considered.

“If you ghost me now, I’m gonna have to shoot you,” Minjeong mumbles, and that sleepy voice sounds cuter to Jimin than she would like to admit.

“I mean. Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice after that, do I?”

“Damn right you don’t,” Minjeong says, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of Jimin’s head that makes the latter’s cheeks heat up. “I know where you live now, so don’t test me. I have a knife and I’m not afraid to John Wayne Bobbitt your ass.”

Jimin releases a breathy chuckle. Minjeong’s threatening tone doesn’t hold up as well when she can’t keep her lips off of Jimin, pulling back to kiss her again and again and again until playful pecks turn into deep, passionate kisses and her hips start back up with a subtle slow rhythm that she later swears she didn’t initiate on purpose.

By the end of the night Jimin has come to a minimum of two realizations: one, sleepy sex is something out of her greatest dreams, and two—she is absolutely, completely, utterly fucked. In every sense of the word.