wonniie1

[wonniie1]

— BURNING FEELINGS.

pairing: Winter x Wonyoung

prompt: Minjeong has already noticed her,but she never thought Wonyoung would notice her too,in a more exciting way only.

CW: idolxidol,short smut with prompt,dirty talk,praise,hand kink,fingering,top Wonyoung,intense sexual tension,whipped Winter,one sided love but not mentioned.

word count: ~5,8k

note: it’s mainly sexual tension,hope you enjoy this and it’s my first time writing something this long so apologies for any mistakes :3

—

The first time they interacted was at an award show—a huge ceremony that stretched late into the night, leaving everyone exhausted. The ceremony had been delayed, and the anticipation in the room had long since faded into weariness.

The lineup for the performances that night was extensive, with more than ten groups set to take the stage for an excited audience. Yet, for Minjeong, the most exhilarating moment of the night wasn't the performances—it was the awards. She already knew they were going to win; the outcome had been clear to her from the start. But when the name "aespa" flashed across the screen as the recipient of Artist of the Year, she still had to feign surprise, clapping along with the others as if the news had caught her off guard.

Minjeong carried herself with a quiet confidence, an artist who knew her worth, especially when it came to her craft. Performing was her thing, not just the act itself but the entire process—the meticulous rehearsals, the endless refining of movements and notes.

She wasn't the leader, but that never stopped her from offering advice, guiding her members with an almost instinctive precision,sometimes too harsh.

She was, in every sense, a perfectionist. And with that came frustration. When mistakes were repeated, when progress stalled, irritation would rise in her like a slow-burning fire. It led to clashes, particularly with Jimin.

"Stay in your place," Jimin would snap when tensions flared,despite being the kindest person ever.

Minjeong, never one to back down, would bristle at the words, anger flaring in her chest before she'd storm out of the practice room, seeking solace in solitude instead of screaming at her elder.

Minjeong had always struggled with her temper. It flared up without warning, a fire she couldn't extinguish no matter how hard she tried. It was simply a part of her—unshakable, uncontrollable.

Among all her members, she was the closest to Aeri. There was a quiet understanding between them, an ease that came from Aeri's ability to listen without judgment. Minjeong didn't need solutions; she just needed someone to hear her, and Aeri did that better than anyone else.

Yizhuo was... fine ? There was no real tension between them, but neither was there any deep connection. They had nothing in common, nothing to tie them together beyond the group. And when the younger girl played around during practice, disrupting the precious hours Minjeong valued so much, she never bothered to hide her irritation.

Minjeong had never thought of herself as cold. She wasn't heartless or distant—just different. She cared, but maybe not in the way people expected.

And then, there was Jimin.

Minjeong hated her. More than anyone, more than anything. Not because of who Jimin was, but because she was forced to pretend—forced to smile, to act as though there was an unshakable bond between them. The staff had told her that their chemistry, their fanservice, was part of the group's success.

And now, Minjeong couldn't even deny it.

The fantasies fans wove around them made Minjeong deeply uncomfortable, yet she had no choice but to endure it. She smiled when she was supposed to, played along with the scripted moments, and ignored the gnawing feeling in her chest whenever she was near Jimin. It was all just another performance—one she had never auditioned for but was expected to perfect nonetheless.

At the end of the day, it never mattered. She had what she needed: money, recognition, a good place at the top. That was enough, or at least, she told herself it was. So she pushed through, doing her best to ignore the things that unsettled her.

Friendships in the industry were few and far between. Not because Minjeong couldn't make them, but because she simply didn't care to. Most people bored her—empty conversations, fake smiles, forced connections. It was easier to keep to herself.

And yet, time and time again, she found herself playing along. Laughing at things she didn't find funny, participating in challenges she found ridiculous, keeping the act going even when the cameras were off. Kindness wasn't always genuine here—it was just another expectation. Another role to play. And Minjeong had learned how to play it well.

And then, for the first time, she found herself interested in someone. It happened at that award show—unexpected, fleeting, but undeniable.

Aespa had already performed a total of two songs, their stage polished and powerful, drawing the usual round of praise from staff members backstage. Minjeong offered them a small, practiced smile, the kind they expected, before turning away and letting it fall. The warmth in her expression vanished instantly, replaced by the cold indifference her members knew all too well.

Once the mics and in-ears were off, they were ushered back onto the stage—not to perform this time, but to sit among the audience, forced to endure the tedious lineup of younger groups.

Winter nodded along to the music, tilting her head at just the right moments, feigning interest in a performance she couldn't care less about. In truth, she wanted nothing more than to take the awards she worked hard for and leave, to put an end to this endless cycle of fake enthusiasm.

A waste of time. That's all this night was. Or so she thought—until she saw her.

There she was—shining effortlessly among the crowd, as if the stage belonged to her alone. A soft, delicate smile played on her lips, her cheeks tinged with the faintest pink, her voice as melodic as the songs she sang.

Jang Wonyoung.

Of course, Minjeong knew her. Who didn't? Korea's it girl, the one everyone recognized, the one who stood at the very top. And yet, Minjeong had never seen her as competition. There was no need for comparison, no quiet rivalry simmering beneath the surface.

She had always admired her—not as a role model, not as an artist to measure herself against, but as something else entirely. A presence. A girl unlike any other.

And for the first time that night, Minjeong smiled—truly smiled. Her gaze drifted to the massive screen overhead, watching Wonyoung more closely, tracing the curve of her lips, the way she carried herself with an almost effortless grace.

She wanted her. More than anything.

She looked unreal—almost otherworldly. That same perfect smile rested on her lips, effortless yet dazzling, and Minjeong found herself staring for a little too long. Even when Wonyoung walked in with her members, greeting the artists and taking a seat not far from them, Minjeong's gaze lingered, drawn to her as if by some invisible force.

And strangely, she could feel her.

She could feel the way Wonyoung's lips curved into that gentle smile as she addressed the crowd, hear the warmth in her voice as she asked if everyone had eaten before coming,the top of fan service. There was something so natural about it, something so genuine—something Minjeong had never quite possessed herself.

The realization unsettled her.

She mumbled a quick excuse and stood, slipping away toward the backstage area. But even as she walked, she stole glances—fleeting, careful. She didn't want to be caught looking, didn't want anyone to notice the way her attention kept drifting toward her.

Inside the bathroom, she exhaled sharply, gripping the sink as she bent over slightly, her reflection staring back at her with an expression she barely recognized. With quick, practiced movements, she adjusted the waves of her red hair, dabbing at the sweat on her forehead with a tissue—careful not to ruin her makeup, careful to keep herself composed.

But the moment the door creaked open, she flinched.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, panic sparking in her chest as if she had been caught doing something forbidden—something she shouldn't have even thought about doing.

Minjeong's breath caught in her throat as she looked through the mirror.

Her eyes widened in shock.

It was her.

Wonyoung stood at the doorway, hesitating for just a second before stepping inside and closing the door behind her. She offered Minjeong a slight bow, polite but distant—so effortlessly graceful, as if unaware of the way her mere presence could shift the entire atmosphere of a room. And then, without another glance, she moved toward the sink beside hers.

Minjeong swallowed hard.

She forced herself to take a deep breath, to keep her gaze fixed on the running water, on anything but her. But it was impossible. The awareness of their solitude made everything sharper—the sound of water against porcelain, the faint scent of perfume, the warmth of someone standing just a little too close.

Her hands trembled as she washed them, fingers rubbing together with unnecessary force, her breath uneven as if she were standing on the edge of something dangerous.

Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs. It was too much.

She shook her head, forcing air into her lungs, trying to ground herself. But it was no use. She couldn't stay here—not with her, not in this suffocating space where Wonyoung's presence felt overwhelming in a way Minjeong didn't know how to handle.

Turning abruptly, she headed for the door, desperate to escape before she did something she couldn't take back.

The feminine urge to turn around, grab Wonyoung by the face, and crash their lips together—until they were breathless, until she wanted more, until she needed more.

Minjeong froze.

The thought was too vivid, too tempting. For a fleeting second, she could almost feel it—the heat, the urgency, the way Wonyoung's soft looking lips would feel against hers. But reality snapped her back just as quickly, and she shook her head, pushing the ridiculous thought away.

Stay realistic. Stay in control.

Wonyoung was still in front of the mirror, carefully applying lipstick on, her movements slow and deliberate. The color deepened the softness of her lips, making them look impossibly perfect. Minjeong tried not to stare, but then—Wonyoung's eyes flickered toward her through the glass.

A quick glance. And then another.

And then, she turned her head fully, locking eyes with her.

"You okay?"

The voice was soft, almost too gentle, yet it sent an involuntary shiver down Minjeong's spine. She clenched her fists, grounding herself against the sensation.

She forced herself to turn, gaze darting anywhere but at her.

"Oh! Y-yeah... I j-just..."

Her voice betrayed her. It wavered, unsteady and weak—completely unlike her usual indifference. She cursed herself for it, frustration bubbling in her chest. Since when did she lose control like this? Since when did her lips tremble just trying to speak?

Wonyoung lifted an eyebrow, her curiosity barely hidden. And then, she moved.

She turned fully and took a step closer.

Minjeong felt the panic rise instantly. She stepped back, heart hammering against her ribs, breath catching in her throat. The air between them felt impossibly heavy now, thick with something unspoken—something Minjeong wasn't ready to name.

"You look... stressed."

Wonyoung's voice was steady, bold. And she didn't stop moving forward.

Minjeong barely had time to react before she felt the cold, unyielding surface of the wall press against her back. Trapped.

She quickly shook her head, scrambling to compose herself, forcing out a breathless chuckle.

Stay calm. Act normal.

"I-it's because of the performance and all... you know?"

It was a weak excuse—one that even she didn't believe. But it was all she had. She kept her gaze darting anywhere but at Wonyoung, as if ignoring her would somehow make the tension disappear.

But Wonyoung was close.

Too close.

And suddenly, Minjeong found herself noticing things she shouldn't—like the way her lips curled slightly at the corners, how the curve of them seemed softer, more delicate up close.

She was smiling.

But it wasn't the same polite, practiced smile she had given everyone else. It was different. Smaller. Quieter.

And Minjeong felt special just because that smile seemed more intimate.

Wonyoung was tall—intimidatingly tall.

Minjeong had always known that, had seen it in videos, in pictures, in every stage they had both graced. But seeing her up close like this? It was different. In real life, she seemed even taller, even more imposing. And maybe—just maybe—it was that height difference that had made Minjeong fall for her in the first place.

The way Wonyoung tilted her head slightly, lowering her gaze to meet Minjeong's, only made the tension thicken. It wrapped around them, filled the quiet space of the restroom, made the air feel heavier—charged.

And Wonyoung noticed.

Of course, she did.

Who wouldn't?

Minjeong was never good at hiding things like this. She could pretend all she wanted, but the truth clung to her like a second skin—transparent, exposed. And right now, under Wonyoung's unwavering gaze, there was no way to hide.

Wonyoung's presence was overwhelming. It pressed down on Minjeong, made her feel small—not just because of the height difference, but because of the way Wonyoung carried herself, effortlessly poised, effortlessly in control.

And then there was something else.

Something worse.

A slow, creeping warmth that spread through Minjeong's body, settling low in her stomach, making her press her thighs together instinctively—as if Wonyoung could somehow notice.

The air felt thick, suffocating. Her legs wobbled slightly, and for the first time, she felt like she might actually collapse under the weight of whatever was happening between them.

"Mmh... Winter? That's your stage name, right?"

The words were quiet, slow and deliberate. Wonyoung was too close now, her voice brushing against Minjeong's skin like a phantom touch.

Minjeong barely managed a nod, her fingers brushing against her cheek—only to realize with a start how warm her skin had become.

"What's your real name?"

The question was spoken lower this time, deeper. It was nothing like the bright, cheerful voice Minjeong had heard on stage. No, this voice was different. Too different.

Minjeong's throat went dry. Her eyes darted anywhere but at her, hands clenching at her sides as if that would somehow ground her.

"M-Minjeong," she finally breathed out, barely above a whisper. "Kim Minjeong."

Her lips trembled around the words. She tried to stop it. She failed.

Minjeong was confused. Why was Wonyoung so interested in her real name? And more importantly—why was she still here, standing so dangerously close, even after noticing every nervous, suspicious reaction Minjeong had tried (and failed) to hide?

She could feel her own heartbeat in her throat, could feel the heat creeping up her skin, betraying her every thought.

"I saw you on stage earlier."

Wonyoung's voice was still low, smooth, curling around Minjeong like a slow-burning flame.

Minjeong parted her lips to respond, but nothing came out.

"You were incredible..."

And then Wonyoung leaned in—closer.

Minjeong flinched, just barely. Not out of fear, not exactly. More like... something else. Something that made her pulse stutter, something that made the air too thick, too charged.

Her gaze dropped, desperate for escape, only to land on Wonyoung's hands.

Long fingers.

Minjeong swallowed hard, her anxiety spiking. Her thoughts were slipping into something unholy, something she shouldn't be thinking about in a public restroom, of all places.

She needed to get out of here. Now.

Minjeong took a deep breath—one last attempt to collect herself, to escape.

She turned sharply, grabbing the door handle, ready to disappear before she embarrassed herself any further. But just as her fingers curled around the metal, she felt it.

A hand.

Large, warm, firm against her tiny waist.

She froze.

Her breath hitched, her head tilting downward as she took in the sight—Wonyoung's huge hand resting against her tiny frame, fingers splayed out just enough to make Minjeong's skin tingle beneath the fabric of her dress.

A soft gasp slipped past her lips, her mouth parting in shock. Her legs felt weak—too weak. She was sure she was about to collapse, sure that her body wouldn't be able to hold itself up for much longer.

And then—

Warm breath.

Right against the shell of her ear.

Minjeong flinched, eyes widening as a shiver ran down her spine. She stayed still, her gaze fixed on the closed door in front of her, her shaky hand still gripping the handle as if it were her only lifeline.

"Not so fast, pretty."

The words were murmured too close, too soft, yet dripping with something dangerously knowing.

Minjeong barely had time to process before she felt it—Wonyoung's lips curling into a slow, mischievous smile, her confidence seeping into every inch of Minjeong's trembling body.

She knew.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

Pretty.

Wonyoung had called her pretty.

Not in a scripted, fanservice way. Not in the way Minjeong had heard a thousand times from fans or staff members who barely meant it.

No—this was different.

It was whispered, deliberate. It slipped past Wonyoung's lips like a secret, like something meant just for her.

And then—heat.

Something warm and soft brushed against her ear, something too intimate, and Minjeong felt her mind slip further into chaos.

"Ahhh..."

The sound escaped before she could stop it, before she could even think. Her grip on the door handle tightened, her forehead pressing against the cool metal as she tried—desperately—to ground herself.

Behind her, Wonyoung laughed—low, amused, taunting.

"Looks like you're even more frustrated now... is that because of the performance?"

The teasing lilt in her voice sent another shiver through Minjeong, making her stomach twist in the worst—best—way possible.

She clenched her teeth, gasping for air as if she were suffocating, as if the weight of Wonyoung's presence alone was enough to steal the breath from her lungs.

And maybe it was.

Minjeong's heart raced, each beat echoing in her ears as she stood frozen, unable to fully process what was happening around her. Wonyoung's presence was overwhelming, her closeness suffocating in the best—and most terrifying—way.

The tension in the air felt like a storm building, charged with unspoken words and intentions. Minjeong could feel Wonyoung's hand move, tracing a path along her side, drawing closer to something more intimate, and the unexpected touch sent a jolt through her, making her gasp. It wasn't pain—no, it was something else entirely. Something that left her breathless and uncertain.

"You know," Wonyoung's voice was almost a whisper, soft but filled with a dark edge, "they all act the same when I start touching them... but they end up asking for more. So bold."

Her laugh was soft, but it carried a weight of something dangerous. Minjeong couldn't help but feel like a fragile thing, caught in Wonyoung's gaze, as if she were something to be examined, understood, or perhaps even devoured.

The room felt too small, the air too thick as Minjeong struggled to keep her composure. She wanted to step away, but every part of her was locked in place, drawn to the pull of Wonyoung's presence. Her mind raced, but her body... her body betrayed her, reacting to the closeness in ways she couldn't fully control.

And yet, the tension wasn't lost on her. It wasn't about what was happening now—it was what was yet to come.

And without any warnings,Wonyoung's big hand cupped one of her breasts,a gentle yet firm grip.It fits so well,the way she could easily hold each part of Minjeong's body without trying to hold more.

Minjeong's body arched at the delicate yet deliberate touches, every nerve ignited by Wonyoung's confident caresses. Her forehead pressed against the cool surface of the door as she clenched her lips shut, desperate to stifle any sound that might betray the torrent of sensations roiling within her.

The soft pressure of Wonyoung's hand was both commanding and tender—a juxtaposition that left Minjeong suspended in a breathless moment. The space around them seemed to pulse with quiet intensity, each contact sparking a cascade of heat that coursed through her veins. In that charged stillness, the world outside faded away, leaving only the subtle rhythm of their shared desire and the unspoken promise of more.

Her heart pounded in her ears, and for a long, fragile moment, silence reigned—a silence heavy with yearning and the bittersweet thrill of vulnerability.

Without a word, Wonyoung's hand firmly grasped Minjeong's arm, pulling her toward a small, secluded cabin. The door clicked shut behind them, enclosing the two in an intimate, confined space where every inch felt charged with possibility.

In the tight quarters of the cabin, the proximity of their bodies was both inescapable and electrifying. The narrow room magnified every subtle movement—the soft pressure of Wonyoung's hand along Minjeong's arm, the gentle brush of fabric against skin, the quiet rhythm of their racing hearts. Words became unnecessary as the silence between them deepened, speaking in unspoken promises and tentative desire.

Wonyoung's confident hold guided them further into this private world, where the boundaries between control and surrender blurred with every breath. Minjeong felt herself drawn in, her senses alight with the intensity of the moment, every nerve alight with the heady mix of anticipation and vulnerability.

In that small cabin, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the charged intimacy of their closeness—a silent dance of desire and restraint, poised delicately on the edge of what might come next.

Minjeong's thoughts churned with a bittersweet clarity as Wonyoung's earlier words echoed in her mind—

"they all act the same when I start... but they end up wanting more."

A painful awareness settled over her; she realized, with a quiet resignation, that she might be just one among many, another heart ensnared by Wonyoung's effortless allure. And yet, even this truth could not quell the fire that Wonyoung's touch ignited within her.

Wonyoung's hands, both commanding and tender, roamed along Minjeong's body—tracing the gentle curves, patting as if to memorize every inch of her skin through the soft fabric of her clothes. With each measured caress, Minjeong felt a mingling of desire and despair, a collision of emotions that rendered her silent. There was no need for words; her body had already begun to speak the language of longing, every touch a verse in a delicate, unspoken poem.

In the intimacy of the tiny cabin, with the door closed and the world outside forgotten, Minjeong surrendered herself to the sensations. Her mind battled with the creeping realization that she might not be the chosen one, yet her body betrayed her, craving each subtle contact. The space between them was charged with both vulnerability and seduction—a fragile haven where yearning eclipsed reason, and every gentle pat promised a fleeting escape from the weight of her doubts.

And so, in that quiet, confined sanctuary, Minjeong remained silent, not out of resignation, but because in that moment, the only language she understood was the soft, stirring caress of Wonyoung's hands.

Those enormous hands—so immense that Minjeong fantasized they could shatter her delicate form if Wonyoung so desired—were exactly what she longed for. Every time those powerful hands traced the contours of her body, Minjeong felt a delicious tremor of surrender. She craved that overwhelming force, that raw certainty in each touch, even if it meant risking everything in the process.

Wonyoung moved with an assuredness that Minjeong had never known. Every caress was deliberate, imbued with a confidence that spoke of experience and a tacit understanding of the language of desire. For Minjeong, whose skin had never before been acquainted with such an intensity, every gentle pat and lingering stroke was an introduction to a realm of sensation both tender and electrifying.

In the silence of the tiny cabin, their communication transcended words. It was a quiet dialogue written in the brush of fingertips, in the subtle press of flesh against flesh. With each touch, Minjeong's doubts receded, replaced by a fierce, unspoken hunger—a yearning not only for the warmth of Wonyoung's affection but also for the certainty that came with being chosen, even if only for a fleeting, secret moment.

And though part of her whispered that she was just one among many in Wonyoung's wake, in that charged instant, Minjeong found herself utterly and completely captivated by the intoxicating promise held in every caress.

It was all about the tension they had built until now. Wonyoung seemed indifferent to the lingering uncertainty, her focus solely on the present—on Minjeong's fragile state, on how utterly weak and vulnerable she felt in this confined space.

"We don't have too much time with us, Minjeong-Shii..." Wonyoung murmured slowly, her voice both tender and insistent. Her large, assured hands held Minjeong's body with a reverence that made the delicate girl feel cherished, as if she were a rare treasure. The gentle pressure of each caress spoke volumes—a silent promise that, even if their time together was fleeting, every second was meant to be savored.

In that cramped cabin, the outside world faded away. The only reality that remained was the quiet urgency in Wonyoung's words and the intimate language of touch that passed between them. For Minjeong, every tender contact was a balm, a lifeline to a warmth she had longed for in the silence of her loneliness. Words were unnecessary—what mattered was the honest, physical communion that bridged the gap between their two souls, if only for a moment.

"So let me just..." she murmured, a soft sigh escaping her lips as her hand slipped beneath the delicate fabric of Minjeong's stage attire—a black and red dress that clung to her petite form like a whispered secret.

A low, appreciative groan emanated from Wonyoung as her long, graceful fingers encountered the secure embrace of Minjeong's safety shorts. In a fluid, unhesitating motion, she swept them away, her touch both assertive and tender, as if unveiling a hidden masterpiece with every deliberate caress.

For ten long, suspended minutes, time stretched within their intimate haven—a quiet interlude where the world beyond ceased to exist. Yet they both knew that outside, the ever-watchful eyes of the media and an expectant crowd awaited, drawn inextricably to Wonyoung's luminous presence.

In that charged moment, their unspoken language of touches and sighs spoke volumes—a sensual ballet performed in secrecy, where every gesture promised both passion and a fleeting escape from the confines of the stage.

Minjeong's gaze remained fixated on Wonyoung's hands, unwilling to lift her eyes, afraid of seeking even the smallest acknowledgment from the younger girl. She longed for kisses—intimate, tender gestures—but was that a luxury reserved only for lovers? She couldn't help but wonder.

Minjeong shut her eyes for a fleeting moment, her breath catching as Wonyoung's fingers, persistent and almost gentle in their determination, pressed against the fabric of her panties, teasingly attempting to slide them aside, inching ever closer to that forbidden, final destination.

But when Minjeong finally opened her eyes, she was met with Wonyoung's gaze—piercing, unrelenting. The intensity in her stare was palpable, like a storm gathering just beyond the horizon, as if Wonyoung was silently plotting something far more consequential, something that would erase all the distance between them.

As though in response to Minjeong's silent, fervent yearning for closeness, Wonyoung drew nearer, her breath grazing Minjeong's cheek. Her fingers hovered just shy of the warmth that pulsed from Minjeong, a tantalizing promise. A soft chuckle escaped Wonyoung's lips, the sound knowing, almost predatory, as if she were aware—completely aware—that Minjeong was lost, adrift in the tide of their unspoken connection.

Wonyoung's fingers finally found their long-awaited destination, encountering the warmth and slickness of Minjeong's body. She lingered there for a moment, still, savoring the evidence of how thoroughly Minjeong had unraveled for her.

Minjeong, on the other hand, was a chaotic blend of restraint and need, her hand pressed tightly to her mouth, stifling any sound that might betray the storm of emotions surging through her.

Without warning, Wonyoung pressed two fingers inside, and Minjeong gasped, the sudden intrusion overwhelming. Her hand shot out, gripping Wonyoung's wrist in a desperate attempt to halt the movement, the intensity of the sensation too much to bear.

A sharp blend of pain and pleasure coursed through Minjeong, excitement coiling in her stomach at the sheer thought of Wonyoung touching her like this. Her face tensed as she took more of Wonyoung's fingers, her body struggling to adjust, her lips trembling with the effort to stay silent.

Wonyoung never looked away, her gaze locked onto every flicker of emotion crossing Minjeong's face, studying her, memorizing her. A quiet pride swelled in her chest.

Yes, it felt good—intoxicating, even—but what made it even better was knowing that it was Wonyoung. No one else. Only her.

Suddenly, Wonyoung seized Minjeong's hand, guiding it downward as she leaned in, her face dangerously close. Minjeong's breath hitched, her eyes squeezing shut, a silent plea for the kiss she so desperately craved.

But Wonyoung hesitated. She studied Minjeong—her furrowed brow, the way her face contorted in a delicate mix of pleasure and uncertainty. For a fleeting second, she simply watched, drinking in the sight of her undone.

Then, without wasting another moment, she closed the distance, capturing Minjeong's lips in a breathless, searing kiss.

The room was filled with the intoxicating symphony of lips meeting in fervent urgency—the slick sounds of wet kisses, the faint, breathless and desperate squeals spilling from Minjeong's throat.

Wonyoung's lips were impossibly soft yet commanding, moving with practiced ease, while Minjeong faltered, struggling to match the rhythm, lost in the overwhelming sensation of it all.

As Wonyoung finally pulled away, a smirk ghosting her lips, her fingers remained buried deep inside Minjeong—completely soaked, gliding with effortless ease, as if reluctant to leave just yet.

Five more minutes. If you don't come, I don't care—I'm leaving."

The words struck Minjeong like a slap, making her gasp, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

She had never initiated any of this. Never once reached out first. Yet here she was, trembling, struggling, aching for Wonyoung's touch—even in silence.

Maybe it was the way Wonyoung's expression had turned colder, indifference settling in like a slow freeze. Maybe she was already bored. Or maybe she was simply frustrated by Minjeong's quiet desperation, unaccustomed to anything less than loud, shameless pleading.

But Minjeong couldn't bring herself to beg. Even as she lived out a fantasy she never thought possible, the words refused to leave her lips.

The hurried thrusts sent a fresh wave of discomfort through Minjeong, a stark reminder that their time was slipping away.

But she pushed the thought aside, forcing herself to surrender to the sensation, to let go of everything except the desperate need to reach her peak before it was too late.

Wonyoung pressed in deeper, her movements unwavering, her thumb finding Minjeong's clit with precision—circling, pressing, coaxing, until pleasure began to override all else.

"Aaah..." Minjeong's desperate sounds filled the empty room, her breaths ragged, uneven. She was close—so unbearably close. Her hands trembled as they found Wonyoung's bare shoulders, her tiny fingers digging in, clinging to her as if she might slip away.

"Sunbaenim... you look really pretty."

The words tumbled from Wonyoung's lips like a casual observation, but to Minjeong, they struck deep, unraveling something fragile inside her. She gasped at the praise, unable to contain the weak, broken cry that followed, her body shuddering as she fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

And then—suddenly, intensely—a new wave of sensation crashed over her. Wonyoung's fingers moved faster, deeper, merciless in their rhythm. Minjeong felt herself teetering on the edge, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts.

Wonyoung chuckled, a quiet, knowing sound, as if delighting in the way Minjeong struggled to keep herself together—when, in reality, she was already falling apart.

With one final, deep thrust, Minjeong shattered—her body tensing, her head falling back, mouth parted in a silent cry. Her fingers dug deeper into Wonyoung's bare skin, desperate for something to anchor herself to.

A sharp groan escaped Wonyoung's lips before she shoved Minjeong's hands away.

"Don't fucking mark me."

Her voice was firm, almost indifferent, as she swiftly pulled her fingers from Minjeong's trembling body. Without hesitation, she reached for a few tissues, wiping away the evidence of what had just transpired.

Minjeong barely registered the words, still lost in the lingering aftershocks of her release. She struggled to steady her breath, her limbs weak, her hands searching blindly for anything to hold onto. Her legs shook so violently that she knew—any second now—she would collapse.

Minjeong pressed her thighs together, a lingering ache settling deep within her, as if she already missed the presence of Wonyoung's touch. Her stomach rose and fell with each uneven breath, the ghost of pleasure still coursing through her veins.

The soft click of the door startled her. Instinctively, she scrambled to pull her safety shorts up, heart pounding in her chest.

But Wonyoung was already gone. No words. No lingering glance. As if nothing had happened at all.

Minjeong exhaled slowly, her head still hazy, thoughts tangled in the aftermath of it all. Confusion gnawed at the edges of her mind, but she had no time to make sense of it.

"Winter! The fuck are you doing?! We just won Artist of the Year!"

A voice—loud, incredulous—snapped her back to reality.

Minjeong blinked, then let out a slow, knowing smile.

She was completely satisfied.

——

When Minjeong stepped back onto the stage, the bright lights did little to ground her. Instinctively, her eyes searched for Wonyoung, drawn to her like a force she couldn't resist.

There she was—standing effortlessly beside one of her members, laughter spilling from her lips, the picture of innocence. As if she hadn't just left Minjeong trembling in a locked room minutes ago. As if nothing had happened at all.

Minjeong barely had time to process the tightening in her chest before she turned her head—only to be met with Karina's dark, unreadable gaze and Yizhuo's puzzled expression.

Then came Aeri, the only one willing to voice what the others kept to themselves. She grabbed Minjeong's arm, her grip firm, eyes searching.

"What happened?"

And for a moment, Minjeong wondered if she even had an answer.

Minjeong forced a weak smile, quickly piecing together an excuse.

"I just wasn't feeling well," she murmured, hoping that would be enough to put an end to their questions.

Her gaze drifted downward, settling on the gleaming award in Karina's hands. The weight of their victory, the reason they were all here, momentarily anchored her.

Despite everything—the lingering heat on her skin, the ghost of Wonyoung's touch still haunting her—satisfaction curled in her chest.

They had won. And for now, that was enough.

__

[wonniie1]

g!p yunjin x chaewon

warning: smut

note: this is an adaptation,credit to the original author.

— —

Chaewon had been doing this since she was a sophomore,but the nerve wracking-ness of it was still strong as the first day she snuck out of school.

She swallowed hard and surveyed the empty hallway where her locker was.The exit towards the back of the school was a few feet away,and she knew for a fact that no one ever checks the security cameras.Hybe High was too lenient to do routine checks.So skipping class was too easy.Everyone had done it at least once,but common practice never made Chaewon feel better about it.

What made her feel better was seeing Yunjin.

Chaewon glanced at her phone and saw two texts from her girlfriend.

"— Where are you babe ? I’ve been here for more than twenty minutes"

"— Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty now ???"

Chaewon chuckled and wiped her glasses.She liked making Yunjin wait,it made her needier and her desperation was always a turn on.Chaewon liked being in control like that.Still,she packed up her things and confidently,so as not to attract too much attention,walked out the back entrance to the student parking lot where Yunjin was waiting in the middle of the parking lot.She was playing with her phone,Chaewon’s helmet tucked under her arm.It was black with a haphazard spray paint of a gold star on it—Yunjin’s own doing.

"There you are." Yunjin grinned at the sight of her. "You didn't get in trouble, did you?" She was dressed in a black jacket, the collar popped up to ward off the spring breeze.Her eyes, hidden by reflective sunglasses,and her motorcycle rumbled while she was perched on it."Still feeling guilty?"

Chaewon shook her head and stood beside Yunjin as she placed the helmet on her head. She adjusted the straps and leaned in to kiss her,forehead bumping against the hard plastic. "Hop on,baby."

She rode behind Yunjin and wrapped her arms around her narrow waist,palms grazing her thighs over her tight jeans.Yunjin made a soft noise as she kicked the stand,the motorcycle pulling out of the parking lot."Watch those hands kitten,i don’t wanna get into an accident just because you can't get your hands off my dick."

Chaewon nudged her head against Yunjin’s back as she laughed,but kept her hands still for the time being.She instead relished the feel of Yunjin’s back against her body.Chaewon loved the firmness of her,her warmth,her smell.She closed her eyes while Yunjin wove through the empty roads,in no rush to get to wherever she wanted to go.

At a stoplight,Chaewon blindly palmed Yunjin’s crotch until she found the shape of her cock where the ripped denim stretched taut.She rubbed the growing bulge,Yunjin groaning under her breath.”Babe,you're not really planning on jacking me off while we wait for this red light,are you?"

Chaewon didn't reply.Instead,she tugged Yunjin’s zipper and wriggled her hand in between the slit to feel her cock."Commando?" She asked,her fingertip tracing the vein that was thick and throbbing along her shaft. "Yunjin,you naughty girl."

"Excuse me,miss hand down my pants." Yunjin continued to drive as the light turned green.The motorcycle stuck down the road."Seriously,Chaewon…Hands off or you'll get fined,by me.Distracted driving is a bad thing,remember?"

Yunjin was grasping at straws now and Chaewon couldn't help but grin.The power over her,it was intoxicating.She pulled out Yunjin’s cock and the brown-haired girl moaned,the engine revving fiercely when her grip tightened on the acceleration."Fuck..."

"Hurry up and take us home,Yunjin."Chaewon muttered."And I promise I'll pay my 'fine' by sucking your hard cock off."

Yunjin’s head tilted and Chaewon knew she was glancing at her hands wrapped around the thick stalk of her cock."I still remember when you couldn’t say dick without blushing.I kinda miss those days because you wouldn't pull out my cock like this while I'm driving."

Chaewon smiled and said nothing until Yunjin parked on the Kim driveway.Yunjin looked around before getting off.She helped Chaewon off the bike and carried her bag for her."Come on,let's get inside."

In no rush at all,Chaewon grasped Yunjin’s hand and led her inside.Once the front door slammed shut,Yunjin groaned in relief that no one saw them."You're getting more and more risky by the minute."She commented.

Chaewon smirked and tugged Yunjin’s cock."Shush."She pressed her into the door and pumped her thick shaft.Kissing Yunjin,she tasted mint candy and Chapstick on her lips."You better not be smoking again."Chaewon whispered against her lips.She locked eyes with Yunjin.Licked her hand to lube up her strokes. Yunjin convulsed at the action, the look in her eye.

She sank to her knees and licked the slit of Yunjin’s cock.It drew out a line of precum which Chaewon swallowed.Yunjin’s hand was pale on the doorknob,as if to prevent anyone from coming in."Look at you,still in the foyer but you're already on your knees for my dick."Yunjin smirked but Chaewon was having none of it.In one swift movement,Yunjin’s cock disappeared in her mouth,all nine inches of it."Holy fucking shit!" She groaned.

But as soon as Chaewon was on Yunjin’s dick, she was gone in the same instant.She looked at Chaewon,dazed."Wh—why did you stop?…"

Chaewon showed off the straight rows of her teeth and took languid steps up the stairs."I thought I might make you beg today."

Yunjin pouted but followed after her."But you just did it yesterday."

"What can I say? I like being in power,love hearing you beg and whine for my pussy on your dick."

Yunjin sighed and ran her hands through her hair."No one would ever believe me if I say that a nerd like you has such a big mouth with a propensity to be dominant."

"Oh, but you enjoy it so much."Chaewon laughed softly and opened the door to her bedroom.Yunjin kicked off her shoes and was about to strip off her pants.Chaewon stopped her."Keep those on,take off your shirt and jacket."

Yunjin obeyed,no questions asked."Yeah I like it when you own me,baby." She laid on the end,legs crossed,cock sticking out of the zipper of her trousers."But sometimes you do that thing where you don't make me come and it feels like I'm going to explode…But then you do make me come." She watched Chaewon walk around, folding clothes and brushing her hair."And it feels like my entire body is on fire, you know?"

Smiling,Chaewon nodded."That's the point.It's called edging,baby.Know your terms."

"What,I'm getting a vocabulary lesson now?" Yunjin grunted."No thanks."

"Fine,be that way.Tell me, are you going to be a good girl or am I going to have to tie you up?"

"I'll be good." Yunjin fidgeted slightly to get more comfortable.She gripped the runs of the head of Chaewon’s bed as her girlfriend stripped down to nothing.She crawled in bed with Yunjin,between her legs.Chaewon rubbed the muscles of her calves,the firm flesh of her thighs.The entire time,Yunjin watched Chaewon,and Chaewon took her time with her.She raked her nails along her legs.Fingertips brushed the swell of Yunjin’s cum-loaded balls.

A tremor coursed through Yunjin and she couldn't help but groan.She fidgeted a bit and swallowed.Chaewon winked up at her and nuzzled her abs,stomach sinking at the light touch.She needed more,and Chaewon knew it.But she won't give Yunjin whatever she wanted.First,she would have her fun.

Chaewon sprawled down on the bed,her naked torso pressed tight against Yunjin’s ribcage.She parted her lips and flattened her tongue on her nipple.She sucked on the stiff bud,swirled her tongue around it,as her palm grasped the thick stalk of Yunjin’s cock.Chaewon alternated between sucking and licking and nipping Yunjin’s nipples and the swell of her breasts while she lightly strokes her dick from the base to the swollen head.

"Fuck..." Yunjin’s eyes were squeezed shut and her upper arms trembled from the strain of gripping the metal runs.Chaewon ceased her sucking to kiss Yunjin’s cheek."Chae...I can't take too much of this fucking teasing."

"Patience is a virtue."Chaewon chastised and released Yunjin’s cock.She rifled through her drawer and took out a bottle of lube.Sitting between Yunjin’s legs,Chaewon crossed her legs and uncapped the bottle.She dribbled the cold liquid all over Yunjin’s hard shaft and set it on the floor.

Yunjin’s cock strained while Chaewon massaged the lube on her balls until they were shimmering and slippery enough for Chaewon to play with.She rolled the spheres in her palm,teased the baby soft skin,and licked the head of Yunjin’s dick.It twitched as soon as it made contact with Chaewon tongue,and Yunjin’s breath hitched.

"mmh…" Yunjin whined,back arching off the bed in a perfect curve.Chaewon relished her whimpers as she wrapped her dainty hands around Yunjin’s length.Two fists,yet it wasn't enough to cover Yunjin’s length,a few inches jutting out of Chaewon’s fist.She mouthed at the tip,tongue swirling and digging firmly into the slit that leaked precum."k—…kitten…fuck..."

Chaewon pumped her cock,slick noises coming from her palms as she fucked it on Yunjin’s dick.She released it fully and grinned as it bobbed between her legs.The brown-haired girl cried out,fisting the bed sheets.She didn't want to break the runs of Chaewon’s headboard like last time."Don't stop, don't stop..." She panted.

So Chaewon picked her cock up again.She bobbed her head,smoothing her hand on the rest of her cock that she didn't have down her throat.Each thrust of her mouth earned a wet,choking noise as Yunjin’s shaft breached Chaewon’s talented,gag reflex-less throat.Each time,Yunjin would gasp and her cock would twitch.Chaewon kept this brutal,rapid pace until Yunjin was whimpering that she was about to come.

Chaewon stopped.Left Yunjin’s dick jumping against her stomach.She wiped the corners of her mouth and smirked at the dazed look in Yunjin’s eyes."P—pl...please…let me come." Yunjin scratched out.Her cock twitched again.Chaewon straddled her stomach and she ground her pussy against Yunjin’s flexing stomach.”You're so fucking wet…Fuck."

Humming softly,Chaewon planted her hands on either side of Yunjin’s head.She humped her pussy against her abdomen and kissed her.Slow and deep.In time with her gyrations.Yunjin was breathing heavily and Chaewon could feel her hot breath,steady against her mouth."Fuck me." Chaewon murmured,sucking on the tip of Yunjin’s tongue.Yunjin trembled,her arms tight around Chaewon’s body.

Chaewon kissed Yunjin and shifted away from her.She went on her elbows and knees,cheek flush against the blankets.Yunjin scrambled to her knees.She parted Chaewon’s ass cheeks,licked her folds to get a taste of her while the smaller girl squirmed."Lick that pussy." Chaewon breathed,eyes squeeze shut.She'd been so aroused playing with Yunjin’s dick that she was sure that if she kept up the harsh sucks on her pussy lips,she would come.

And she did.With a squeal,Chaewon’s liquid gushed all over Yunjin’s eager tongue.It dragged up her folds and slid right into her clenching hole.Yunjin fucked her tongue into her until her convulsions eased,and that was when she slammed her rigid cock inside Yeji.

The black-haired girl cried out as her pussy stretched to accommodate Yunjin’s girth.She bent over her back,her arms sliding underneath Chaewon’s body to grasp her throat lightly.Yunjin covered Chaewon entire body with hers as she humped into her while her cock reached the deepest parts of her.Chaewon reached back and grabbed handfuls of Yunjin’s hair."That's it baby,mount my pussy." She gasped against her jaw.

"You're too much." Yunjin panted against Chaewon’s neck.Her legs went on a straddling position and it allowed her to pound Chaewon with heavy,hard thrusts that the smaller girl definitely liked.She squealed each time Yunjin sheathed her cock inside her."You're going to make me bust already."

"Keep fucking me."Chaewon whined,ass rutting back to meet Yunjin’s forceful thrusts—so forceful that the headboard would knock against the wall,acting as the metronome to their fucking."Don't you dare stop,Yunjin.I haven't had enough of your cock."

Yunjin snorted and mouthed at Chaewon’s ear.She licked the shell,nipped her earlobe with her lips and teeth."You'll never get enough of my dick."She retorted.

Chaewon tugged sharply on Yunjin’s hair and made soft noises in the back of her throat with every hard pump.Yunjin dragged her hands along Chaewon’s sides.Gripped her hips and leaned back to watch the way her dick slide in and out of Chaewon’s gorgeous pink pussy.Her cock would make a filthy noise-wet and somehow mind-numbing—and it would push her a little bit closer to the edge of coming.

Yunjin pounded into Chaewon,driving her face first into the sheets."God damn,baby…I'm g- gonna..." She trailed off.Yunjin’s ass continued to flex while she made shallow jerks of her hips,her cum spurting in thick ropes,enough to fill Chaewon’s pussy.It clamped around her throbbing cock.She came so hard she swore her vision dimmed for a minute.Yunjin was too engrossed in finally getting to come that she didn't realize Chaewon was coming too.

She rutted into Chaewon’s pussy as together they rode out their orgasm.Yunjin flattened herself against Chaewon’s body and kissed all over her neck."Fucking hell,babe…You're amazing."

Chaewon grinned and angled her neck for a kiss which Yunjin readily supplied."See,I told you edging makes you come harder."

Yunjin pulled out and rolled Chaewon to lay on her back.She spread her legs and hummed at the delectable sight of her load trickling out of Chaewon’s blushing pussy."It does…"she whispered against Chaewon’s inner thighs.Nibbled her softness, her sweat-coated skin."Let me clean you up."

Closing her eyes, Chaewon hooked her legs on Yunjin’s shoulders.Grasped a handful of her hair and dragged her nails along her scalp as she felt her tongue sliding against her hole. "Oh... You're so good to me…"