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Rain patters on the windowsill, constant and comforting, and Minjeong never wants to leave her bed. She’s never been more glad to have a fucked up heater than she is with Jimin in her bed, curled up soft next to her and her head resting on Minjeong’s shoulder. Jimin’s fingers, rubbing in circles on Minjeong’s hip, dangerously close to the edge of her shorts, and Minjeong aches.
They’ve got Reply 1988 playing on Minjeong’s laptop, balanced on top of their tangled legs, and she hasn’t been able to pay attention through the last several episodes. She wishes Jimin would stop, wishes she’d reach her hand down lower and –
“Someone’s distracted,” Jimin says, and God, she sounds like she’s just woken up, voice rough and sultry and this is on purpose, Minjeong thinks. She’s doing this on purpose.
Minjeong hums and Jimin props herself up on her elbow, grinning down at Minjeong like a shark with mischief in her eyes.
“You’re a menace,” Minjeong says, and she has to tear her eyes away from Jimin’s mouth.
Jimin hums. “I think you’ll live,” she says, and she hauls herself up, pulling her hand off of Minjeong’s hip in the process.
Minjeong doesn’t mean to whine, she really doesn’t, but, well. She does, anyway, and Jimin laughs as she pauses the show, closes the laptop, and sets it off to the side before lifting herself up to straddle Minjeong’s hips.
Jimin’s still grinning at her like a shark, like she’s about to eat her, and Minjeong can barely breathe.
“Hey,” Jimin says, lifting a hand to stroke Minjeong’s cheek. “Come here often, gorgeous?”
It startles a laugh out of Minjeong, and she feels like she’s on fire. She’s pretty sure this is what love feels like.
She’s still laughing as Jimin leans down to kiss her, soft and gentle, and Minjeong stills for a minute before she kicks back into action and kisses her back. She doesn’t think she’ll ever recover from the way Jimin kisses her. She thinks she’ll look for it for the rest of her life.
Her hand settles on Jimin’s hip hesitantly, fluttering touches, and Jimin makes this noise in the back of her throat as Minjeong’s fingers tighten around the bone and licks into her mouth, hot and heavy but somehow still so gentle and soft that Minjeong doesn’t know what to do with herself.
She’d be happy to stay like this forever, with her hand on the curve of Jimin’s hip and Jimin’s tongue curling into her mouth, but then Jimin shifts, and her hand’s reaching up under the cotton of Minjeong’s shirt to rest against her ribcage, her other hand reaching down so she can hook her finger around the elastic of Minjeong’s shorts, and Minjeong wants.
She gasps, and Jimin pulls away before attaching her lips to Minjeong’s jaw to press messy, open mouthed kisses down the length of it before moving on to her throat, licking and biting all the way, and Minjeong can’t help the way she arches into Jimin’s touch.
“Jimin,” she gasps, half strangled and bitten off, and she can feel Jimin’s breath on her neck for just a moment before she pulls away, tugging at Minjeong’s shirt.
“C’mon,” she says, and then: “Wanna see you,” and Minjeong all but melts right there as she helps Jimin pull her shirt off, her bra following shortly after.
They both still for a moment before Jimin runs her hand down Minjeong’s side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. She touches Minjeong like she’s something fragile, but it’s not patronizing. It fills Minjeong’s chest with warmth, burning off the nervousness.
Jimin leans down again, and presses one more kiss against Minjeong’s lips before whispering, “God, you’re beautiful.” And then she’s gone again, tugging her own shirt off and unhooking her bra, throwing it God knows where while she leans down to kiss Minjeong again, this time almost bruising.
She can’t bring herself to care as she curls a fist in Jimin’s hair and pulls her close, letting a shuddering breath out of her nose as Jimin’s skin brushes against hers, breasts hot and heavy where they fall against Minjeong’s chest.
Jimin pulls away again, presses her mouth back against Minjeong’s jaw but this time she sucks, biting at the skin until Minjeong can practically feel it bruise.
(Until she can feel the wetness between her thighs, slick and hot and aching.)
“Let me touch you,” Jimin says, rocking her hips down against Minjeong’s before pressing their mouths together again, and Minjeong lets out another pitiful whine.
“You’re going to kill me,” Minjeong says, words muffled against Jimin’s lips, and she can feel Jimin laugh in response.
“Can I?” is all she says as she hooks her thumb around the elastic of Minjeong’s shorts. Again.
“Yes,” Minjeong says, rushed out on a breath of air, and then, “I’ve never, um –”
“I know,” Jimin says before Minjeong can finish.
She lets out a huff, says, “With anyone,” and Jimin stills.
“Oh,” Jimin says dumbly, and then, “Not even with –?” but Minjeong’s already shaking her head, and then Jimin repeats, “Oh.” It’s breathier this time, and Minjeong can see her pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, and it takes a minute before it registers.
“Oh my God,” she says, giggling. “You’re into that, aren’t you?”
“Shut up,” Jimin says, but she’s not denying it, either. “I just can’t believe nobody else tried to snatch you up.”
Minjeong giggles again, keeps giggling as Jimin pulls her shorts and underwear off, only stops when Jimin starts pressing kisses against her hips with her hands gripping Minjeong’s thighs. “Gonna make you feel so good,” she hears Jimin say, mumbled into her flesh, and Minjeong moans as Jimin presses two fingers against her entrance, not even trying to push it in. She just presses, rubbing her fingers against it, just enough that it feels good but not enough that Minjeong’s satisfied, leaving her writhing, whimpers falling past her lips.
“Jimin, please,” she says, not caring that she’s begging.
All Jimin does is laugh, press a kiss just above Minjeong’s clit. “Not sure I know what you want, Minjeong,” she says, and Minjeong doesn’t need to look to tell that she’s grinning. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Minjeong can feel her cheeks heating up as she throws her arm over her eyes, hiding in the crook of her elbow. A part of her is still stubbornly fighting against it, telling her no orgasm is worth the humiliation, but Jimin’s fingers are right there and it’s time she gave in, isn’t it?
“Jimin,” she says, chest heaving. “Want your fingers in me, please. Want you to make me feel good.”
The stutter in Jimin’s breath is almost more satisfying than the pressure giving way to the feeling of Jimin’s fingers inside her, and Minjeong has to remove her arm from her eyes so she can muffle the cry it forces out of her into her fist.
It’s nothing like the videos Minjeong used to watch, no relentless and painful in and out. Instead, Jimin curls her fingers, presses against something deep inside Minjeong, and she has to muffle another moan.
“It’s okay, Minjeong,” Jimin says, shifting so she can tug Minjeong’s fist out of her mouth. “I want to hear you, okay?” and all Minjeong can do is nod frantically as she feels another whine escape her throat.
“Don’t stop,” Minjeong begs. “Jimin, please.”
Jimin smiles again, softer this time, less dangerous as she fingers her open. “How does it feel?” she asks, as if she isn’t taking Minjeong apart piece by piece.
Minjeong gasps, barely manages to whimper out, “Good, Jimin,it feels so good, please don’t stop.”
Jimin hums, and Minjeong has to close her eyes for a moment because Jimin’s so good, treats her so well that Minjeong can barely take it, but then her eyes are flying open as she feels Jimin press a kiss to her clit and then sucks, and Minjeong’s so turned on it feels like her brain’s melted into a pile of goo as she writhes beneath Jimin’s skilled tongue and fingers.
It isn’t until she feels Jimin’s breath hitch that she notices that Jimin’s second hand isn’t gripping her thigh anymore, and she sees Jimin’s arm straining as she rubs against her own clit and that’s it, Minjeong’s finished, all because she can’t get over the sight of Jimin getting herself off.
“Jimin,” she gasps. “Jimin, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna –” and then she cuts herself off with a sharp whine as her thighs shake and she arches off the bed, toes curling in a way that makes her feel like one huge, walking cliché, but it’s so good. Jimin’s so good.
Jimin finishes a moment later, her moan pressed into Minjeong’s skin, and she feels like she could sing with it.
“C’mere,” Minjeong says, tugging at Jimin’s arm, and Jimin pulls up to curl against Minjeong’s side, humming gently all the way.
“Nap time?” Jimin says, and Minjeong’s already dozing off as she nods in agreement.