peaches

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/60236608.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/F
Fandom: Aespa (Band)
Relationship: Kim Minjeong | Winter/Yu Jimin | Karina
Characters: Kim Minjeong | Winter, Yu Jimin | Karina
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University,
Alpha Yu Jimin | Karina, Omega Kim Minjeong | Winter, but she hides
that, Needy Kim Minjeong, but she hides that too, One Sided Rivalry,
Pussy Drunk Yu Jimin, Size Difference, they fuck a lot.
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2024-11-01 Updated: 2024-12-23 Words: 36,128 Chapters:
3/4
 peaches
by shroomrina

Summary

Now, don’t get her wrong—Minjeong is not ashamed of being an omega. If anything,
she’s proud of it. If she could, she’d join those protests that their college’s support group
organizes against omega discrimination. Seriously, does anyone think she wants to mask
her scent with cheap Axe body spray just to pass as a beta? Hell no! But life has a way
of forcing her hand and well, to pursue her dream of playing on the college basketball
team, she’s had to fake it as a beta.

or Minjeong desperately wants to hide she's an omega and the alpha she hates the most helps
her.
 let it happen
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

If you asked Minjeong what she hates the most in this world, the answer would be what she
is feeling at this very moment—the feeling of waking up to the heavy, sticky warmth of pre-
heat. It’s the kind of discomfort that seeps into her bones, making her groggy and irritable
before she’s even opened her eyes. The worst part? The weather outside is still cold enough
to see her breath. She could be snuggled under her blanket, enjoying the morning laziness.
But no, instead, she kicks her blankets away with a frustrated huff, feeling the cling of her
sweaty shirt against her back.

And then there’s the slick, wet and uncomfortable between her thighs, soaking through her
underwear. It’s not enough to drive her out of her mind yet, but it’s more than enough to be
irritating. Then as if that wasn't enough, her phone lights up on her nightstand with a text that
reads: We are having last week’s canceled practice today. Expecting to see all of you at 1 pm
sharp.

"Fuck." She grabs her phone, squinting at the screen to make sure she read it right. "Great.
Just great," she mutters under her breath, rubbing a hand over her flushed face. It’s the month
where she has to cut back on her suppressants too, which makes it even worse. Her body
doesn’t tolerate too many of them—she found that out the hard way when she started
throwing up during practice after taking one too many doses. So, every few months, she has
to power through at least one heat without them, hoping that no one notices the faint sweet
scent clinging to her. Because even with her daily scent blockers, heat always manages to
betray her, letting the scent of peaches and cream slip through—sickly sweet and undeniably
omega .

Now, don’t get her wrong—Minjeong is not ashamed of being an omega. If anything, she’s
proud of it. If she could, she’d join those protests that their college’s support group organizes
against omega discrimination. Seriously, does anyone think she wants to mask her scent with
cheap Axe body spray just to pass as a beta? Hell no! But life has a way of forcing her hand
and well, to pursue her dream of playing on the college basketball team, she’s had to fake it
as a beta. The school only allows betas and alphas on the team—something about omegas
being “too distracting” for their star players. Can you believe the audacity? As if anyone out
there is drooling over the alphas who smell like a pack of wet dogs.
But as much as she’d love to point that out to the administration, she’s got bigger goals in
mind. SMCU has the best basketball program in the city, and it’s her ticket to the national
team. So, she slaps on her beta act, layers on the scent blockers, and hopes no one notices that
hint of peaches and cream sneaking through. It worked through her freshman year and all that
is left is three more years—just three years of pretending—and then she can graduate, drop
the whole charade, and finally show up as her true self. That way she can show to the world
omegas aren’t the ones being distracting, it's the alphas who can’t use their brains and only
think with their dicks.

Now she thinks about what to do, biting her lip in frustration. With the slick already dripping
down to her ass cheeks, she knows there's no way she can keep up the act today. There’s no
masking that sweet scent, not even with the layers of Axe and scent blockers she usually
relies on. So, with a deep sigh, she grabs her phone and types out a quick text: Not feeling
well, can't make it today. Sorry.

She cringes at the lie. She doesn’t want to be perceived as weak, especially when it’s not true.
But desperate times call for desperate measures. If sitting out one practice means keeping her
secret safe, she’ll deal with the humiliation later.

But then cue the second thing she hates the most: Yu fucking Jimin. Of course, the most
annoying alpha in the world had to text her, Throwing up again, princess?

Minjeong groans, rolling her eyes at the screen. That smug little smirk is practically audible
through the text. It's like she can picture Jimin leaning back towards a wall, arms crossed,
looking down at her with that teasing glint in her eyes. Ugh, it’s enough to make Minjeong
want to throw her phone out the window.

It was typical of Jimin to do this. Even though she was their team captain, the one who was
supposed to encourage her no matter what, she always found a way to pick on Minjeong from
the moment they first met. Sure, Minjeong could admit she was tiny, and during their first
few practices, she had been a bit disoriented, still getting used to all the medication she had to
take. But she has proven herself several times since then. Still, Jimin's teasing about how
weak and small she was never let up. Mind you, she wasn’t even the shortest on the team!

While Jimin was the taller and stronger one, as she would love to remind her, Minjeong
didn’t understand why she had zeroed in on her when there were bigger or more like smaller
fish to fry. It was as if Jimin could sense her deep insecurities and decided to weaponize
them. Maybe Jimin was jealous that Minjeong was right behind her as one of the best players
on the court and didn’t want to feel threatened, so she tried to demoralize Minjeong instead.

Well, if that is the case there is no way in hell she was going to let that cocky loser win. With
a determined huff, she quickly types a text to the group chat: Never mind, I can play, hoping
she wouldn’t regret it later.

-:-

Minjeong wipes the sweat from her brow, frustrated with her body. She feels like she just ran
a marathon in the Sahara, her heart racing far too quickly for comfort. The lingering sensation
of pre-heat clings to her like a heavy blanket, but when the whistle blows again, she pushes it
aside.

Dribbling the ball down the court, her heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of her footsteps.
She dodges a defender with a swift crossover. As she approaches the three-point line, she
glances at Jimin, who’s ready for the pass. With a flick of her wrist, she sends the ball
towards her and the girl’s shot arcs beautifully and swishes through the net.

Then, Jimin gives her a firm squeeze on the shoulder as they reposition, a gesture normal
enough. Jimin knows how to be civil with her on the court. Nothing new. But what’s not
normal is how that innocent touch sends a jolt through Minjeong’s body, making slick pour
out of her. She wants to scream at her body because, Seriously? You're doing all that for fuck
ass Jimin?

She tries to shake off what just happened as simple biology and regain her focus on the
remaining minutes of the game but each time Jimin sprints past her, she can’t shake the
warmth pooling low in her belly. It’s infuriating—she’s supposed to hate that confident grin
Jimin flashes at her every time she points or calls for the ball. But she finds it attractive, her
and her stupid cute round teeth mixed with her flushed cheeks makes her look totally
adorable, the sweat dripping down from her beautiful long neck sends her thoughts spiraling,
and it’s only because Minjeong is an omega in dire need of cock while the latter is an alpha
who happens to have one.

The world is simply unfair.

Finally, the whistle blows for the last time, and Minjeong sags down to a bench, breathless
and a little dazed. As the coach starts pointing out their mistakes, Minjeong finds it hard to
concentrate on his words. All she can hear is the distant sound of her own heart pounding in
her ears and the residual heat clinging to her skin. The coach’s voice fades into a blur, and she
can’t even bring herself to listen until he dismisses them to shower.

Even though Minjeong desperately needs to shower, there’s no way she can wash off her
scent in a room full of betas and alphas. It’s already a miracle they can’t sense her
pheromones right now—probably because they’re too exhausted from the game—but the
second she strips off her clothes, everyone would be able to smell her and know exactly what
she is. Maybe she should just hang around the bleachers a little longer until the coast is clear.

“Hey, you were amazing out there!” Aeri’s voice pulls her from her thoughts, a warm smile
on her face. But then she frowns, studying Minjeong with concern. “But you look... a bit off.
Everything okay?”

Minjeong forces a smile that feels more like a grimace. “Yeah, just a little hot, I guess.”

“A little hot?” Aeri raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Dude, you’re sweating like
crazy! Are you sure those sniffles or whatever that was passed?”

Right, the little white lie she told before the game when Aeri asked what was up with her
texts. “I’ll be fine,” Minjeong replies, waving her hand dismissively. “Just had to push
through. And I totally crushed you just now, so should you really be asking me that?”

Aeri laughs, shaking her head. “Well, yeah, enjoy that for now. I’ll get back to you next
week!”

“Good luck with that!” Minjeong teases, feeling a bit better despite all the shit churning
inside her.

Aeri offers her a hand. “Come on, let’s hit the showers. You’ll feel better after.”
Minjeong hesitates, guilt creeping in. “Uh, I need to call my mom. She was, um, a bit
worried, you know? I’ll join you guys in a bit.”

The girl narrows her eyes but eventually shrugs it off. “Alright, but don’t take too long and
tell her I said ‘hi’!”

Minjeong gives an awkward, “Will do,” and pretends to be busy with her phone as her
teammates trickle out of the court toward the locker room. She watches them leave one by
one, feeling both relieved and a little lonely. Sometimes, she thinks about telling Aeri the
truth because of that loneliness. Being an exception, the alpha was always so sweet and
considerate, and having someone to lean on during days like this would be such a relief. But
fear holds her back—fear of judgment, of the way Aeri’s gaze might change if she knew.
Even though she’s pretty sure Aeri wouldn’t go around running her mouth, Minjeong can’t
stand the idea of losing a friend.

Minjeong shakes off the dread creeping into her chest and finally forces herself to sit up,
heading for the showers once she’s sure everyone else has finished. But to her dismay, the
sound of running water echoes through the empty locker room—someone is still in one of the
stalls. She hesitates, thinking about turning around and running back to the dorms all sweaty,
but she knows she can't risk it. She has to wash off all the slick that’s accumulated, or even
the weakest beta would catch a whiff of her out there.

With a resigned sigh, she gives herself a quick pep talk. It’ll be fine, you can do this. She
strips off her jersey and shorts hastily, stuffing them into her locker while grabbing her towel,
and slips into a stall as far from the other one as possible. It’ll be okay, she tells herself again.
There’s a high chance that whoever’s still in there will finish up soon and be gone by the time
she’s done. Then, she’ll have just enough time to dry off, dress in the clothes she pre-sprayed
with perfume, and sneak back to the dorm without anyone noticing anything. The perfect
plan.

Sure enough, Minjeong hears the water turn off, followed by the shuffle of footsteps as
someone steps out of their stall. There’s the clank of a locker being opened and then shut,
more footsteps, and then the unmistakable loud creak of the locker room door closing. She
releases a long breath, letting the tension melt from her shoulders as she turns her focus back
to washing herself off.
The cool water is a welcome relief against her overheated skin, cascading down her back and
over her chest, sending goosebumps in its wake. She lets the stream soak through her hair,
running her fingers through the strands. Her nipples, already sensitive from the heat coming,
hardened further, perked up against the cool air. She traces a hesitant fingertip over one,
barely touching, and a small whimper escapes her lips. The temptation to let her fingers
linger, to let the water soothe her as she explores that aching heat low in her belly, is nearly
overwhelming. Her hand inches closer, circling the tender bud, brushing over it more
deliberately this time. Her hips twitch forward, and she bites her lip as her hand starts to
move downward.

But she catches herself, jerking her hand away from her chest as if the thought alone could
burn her. Pull yourself together , she scolds inwardly, her cheeks flushed. You just washed off
the slick oozing out, don’t make it worse. She scrubs at her skin more vigorously, trying to
focus on the chill of the water instead of the heat in her veins.

After she’s thoroughly cleaned and she is sure her pussy will stay dry until she makes it back
to the dorms, Minjeong steps out of the shower and wraps herself tightly in her towel. She
moves quickly, eager to get dressed and leave before anyone else shows up. But as she
rounds the corner, something feels wrong. The scent of whiskey and honey hangs in the air,
her steps falter along with her heart picking up. Then she sees it—her locker door hanging
open, her sweaty jersey crumpled on the floor. And standing there, with their back to her, is
someone holding something up—and she’s pretty sure that it’s her shorts and panties.

Fuck.

Panic floods her system. Her body freezes, muscles tensing as she clutches her towel tighter,
feeling more exposed than she ever has in her life. She wants to shout, to demand an
explanation, but the words stick in her throat, she is absolutely mortified.

Then the figure turns, and Minjeong’s blood runs cold when she sees Jimin’s face. But the
team captain’s usual confidence is gone. Instead, Jimin looks flushed, cheeks and ears
crimson with wide eyes filled with guilt and something else that Minjeong can’t quite place.
As soon as their gazes lock, Jimin drops the clothes, her hands trembling slightly.

“What the hell are you doing?” Minjeong’s voice finally escapes, though it sounds far less
demanding than she intended.
Jimin stumbles over her words, her face reddening further. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
She takes a shaky breath, fixing her gaze on a random spot on the floor. “They just smelled so
good— I mean I was just curious. I didn’t think—” Her voice trails off, and she swallows
hard, finally meeting Minjeong’s eyes again. “You’re... in pre-heat,” Jimin states, clearly
there are no doubts in her mind about it.

Minjeong’s stomach sinks. Jesus, she really was fucked.

Her mind scrambles to make sense of the situation, searching for some way out even though
she knows there is none. So she tries to deflect, latching onto the first thing that comes to
mind. “How did you even get my locker open?”

Jimin glances to the side, avoiding the question. Minjeong follows her gaze and spots the
bent metal where the lock used to be.

Oh. She actually broke into it.

“I’m sorry. I... I couldn’t help myself,” Jimin mutters sheepishly, scratching the back of her
neck like a child caught drawing on the walls.

Well, Minjeong’s a little impressed by her strength—she can’t lie—but mostly, she’s just
horrified. How desperate did Jimin have to be for this? “You’re such a pig,” she snaps
without thinking.

Jimin’s brows knit together in irritation, a crease forming on her forehead. “Can you blame
me?” she snaps back, taking a step closer. “You’re an omega , Minjeong! You’re not even
supposed to be here, let alone while stinking up the whole place!”

Minjeong scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. “Oh, now it stinks? You just said it smelled
good two seconds ago!”
Jimin’s flush deepens, but she doesn’t back down. She steps closer still, her voice dropping
low. “Well, it doesn’t matter how mouthwatering your scent is. Do you have any idea how
stupid it is to be near a bunch of alphas and betas when you’re about to start leaking like a
broken faucet? Do you know how dangerous that is?”

Minjeong rolls her eyes. “Oh, I know. All you people do is think with your dicks, you don’t
need to remind me.”

“This is serious!” Jimin insists, her expression shifting to frustration. “You’re lucky it was
me. If it had been anybody else—”

She cuts her off, “What would they do? Break into my locker and nuzzle my panties?”

Jimin's face turns an even deeper shade of red. “Hey! I wasn’t nuzzling your panties!” she
shrieks, it’s the highest Minjeong heard her voice become.

She lets out a dry laugh. “Right.”

The simple word seems to snap something in Jimin, anger flares in her eyes, and she
suddenly surges forward, Minjeong’s heart skips a beat as she takes a step back, trying to
keep some distance between them, but the alpha follows.

“I’ll tell you exactly what the others would do,” Jimin’s voice drops to a harsh whisper,
dripping with disdain as she stalks closer. “They wouldn’t just break into your locker—they’d
break into your stall. And you know what they’d find? Not you, not Minjeong , but a
mindless, empty-headed omega ready to be used. And you wouldn’t even get to fight back.
Hell, you wouldn’t want to.” She feels the cool metal of the lockers against her shoulder
blades as Jimin leans in, her lips nearly brushing Minjeong’s ear. “Because a dumb mutt like
you would be too busy wagging her tail, excited to be filled.”

Minjeong wants to lash out, to shove Jimin away and throw something back at her after being
spoken to like that. The alpha’s words still hang in the air, harsh and humiliating. But instead,
a familiar warmth floods between her legs, wetness pooling, and she wants the ground to
open up and swallow her whole—because god, she knows Jimin can smell it too.
And sure enough, Jimin’s pupils get blown wide as she takes in the shift in the air. Then her
gaze drops to Minjeong’s lips, lingering there like she’s about to devour her in one bite.
When she leans in even closer, her breath hot against Minjeong’s cheek, she feels it—Jimin’s
arousal pressing hard against her thigh. She shivers, a flush creeping up her neck, more slick
pooling between her legs, and she hates how much her body reacts to it. She is ready to melt
against the lockers and let Jimin have her way with her. She starts to think about all the ways
Jimin can stretch her out right against this locker before snapping out of it.

She’s not about to give in without a fight.

Gathering whatever shreds of dignity she has left, Minjeong forces herself to smirk, lifting
her chin even as her knees threaten to buckle beneath her. “Are you sure you aren’t just
projecting?” she taunts, her voice drips with mockery as she glances down, making sure
Jimin notices her eyes landing on the bulge straining in her sweatpants.

And it works. Jimin’s bravado falters, her face flushing deeper as she quickly steps back, her
hand moving to cover herself, as if that would help. She stumbles slightly, and with the
sudden space between them Minjeong finally feels like she can breathe again.

Jimin clears her throat, trying to regain control, though her voice comes out strained.
“Whatever. Just... get dressed quickly so we can go.”

Minjeong narrows her eyes suspiciously. “We?”

Jimin sighs, sounding a little impatient. “Yeah? You think I’m just gonna let you go out there
alone like this? My scent will mask yours if we stick together.”

Minjeong lets out a dry laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’d have to be stupid to
think I’m going to be anywhere near you after—”

Jimin cuts in with another sigh, looking uncomfortable. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t
have done that—” she gestures awkwardly at the discarded clothes on the floor, her cheeks
reddening, “—or said those things. But you have to stick with me right now. What I said
wasn’t wrong, just… poor choice of words. And you clearly want to hide you’re an omega
so…”

Minjeong stares at her for a long moment, assessing, then huffs out “Fine.” She moves to
grab her clothes but pauses when she notices Jimin picking up her sweaty jersey, stuffing it
into her bag.

“Okay, what are you doing now, creep?” She glares at Jimin with her hands on her hips.

Jimin rolls her eyes. “We can’t leave these in your locker and you can’t put it in your bag
either. My jersey will help cover up the scent on yours.”

It’s a practical enough reason that Minjeong bites back a retort, even though she wants to
argue just for the sake of it. She ends up muttering, “Whatever.” She points a finger at Jimin.
“Now turn around while I get dressed.”

Jimin raises her hands in surrender, turning her back to give Minjeong some privacy. When
she’s finally dressed, they head out together.

-:-

Jimin keeps an arm draped around Minjeong's shoulders as they make their way toward the
dorms, holding her close. She'd explained it as necessary, saying her scent would help mask
Minjeong’s better this way, but the proximity feels more suffocating than helpful. Minjeong
tries to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, but her body feels hotter than it did
earlier in the court, every step making her hyper-aware of the mess between her thighs.

It’s not just the heat making her head spin. It’s the way Jimin’s scent wraps around her like a
blanket, seeping into her skin, making her head feel foggy. The alpha’s steady, protective
pheromones seem to seep into her pores, and it’s messing with her mind.
Her thoughts slip to the memory of Jimin pressed against her back in the practice room, the
heat of her body, the way her breath ghosted over her ear. It sends a shiver down Minjeong’s
spine, and the flush creeps up her neck all over again. Slick is practically pouring out of her,
her panties soaked through, and she knows Jimin can feel every bit of her trembling, and can
smell the embarrassing, heady scent that clings to her skin. The way Jimin’s fingers dig into
her shoulder like she’s holding back makes her stomach twist with something she doesn’t
want to admit to.

It’s unbearable. She has to do something, or she’s going to melt down right there on the
pathway. When they pass by a few people who do double takes, surprised as they spot the
two of them pressed so close, Minjeong’s embarrassment spikes. The whispers reach her ears,
and all she can think about is hiding herself away in Jimin’s scent, somewhere out of view.
But it’s a dangerous thought, one that makes her realize she’s getting too comfortable, too
needy, and she bites down on her lip.

Minjeong suddenly stops in her tracks, jerking them both to a halt. Jimin glances down, brow
furrowing, concern flashing in her eyes as she looks at her. But Minjeong can barely meet her
gaze, focusing on keeping her voice steady, even though it comes out in a breathless rush.

“Can you back up a little?” she forces out, feeling like every nerve is on fire.

Jimin frowns, loosening her grip but still holding on. “No. If I let go, everyone’s gonna smell
you from a mile away,” she mutters, her voice low and firm.

Minjeong’s breath catches in her throat, and she glares up at Jimin, but the fire behind it is
dimmed by the way her legs wobble. “I don’t care,” she bites out, but the words lack the bite
she’s going for. Her voice cracks, barely more than a whisper. “Just—just give me a second,
okay?”

For a moment, Jimin hesitates, searching her face. Then she reluctantly takes a small step
back, enough to give Minjeong room to breathe, though she can still feel the warmth of her
hand lingering just out of reach. Even that bit of space helps clear the fog clouding
Minjeong's mind, but then other students start to take a second look while walking past them,
their gazes lingering far too long for her liking.
Then, before she can react, Jimin’s arm is back around her, and she lets out a low, possessive
growl, almost instinctive and it goes straight to her core. A soft, needy whimper escapes her
almost immediately, her body growing weak again.

Jimin’s eyes widen at the sound, almost startled, but she doesn’t hesitate to tighten her hold.
Minjeong clings to Jimin's waist in return, fingers digging into her shirt as she buries her face
against her shoulder, fighting to keep her knees from buckling. The heat coursing through her
is too strong, too overwhelming to ignore.

“Jimin… I can’t…” Minjeong’s voice is barely more than a whisper, pained and pleading.

The alpha’s expression softens, though there’s a hint of panic behind her eyes. “What do you
mean?” she asks, her grip firming as she watches Minjeong’s struggle to stay upright.

“Please… just take me somewhere,” Minjeong chokes out, feeling like she’s moments away
from falling apart. “I can’t hold on anymore.”

Jimin’s gaze darts around, clearly not entirely sure what to do, but seeing Minjeong like this
steels her resolve. Without another word, she pulls her even closer as she guides them quickly
across the hall, ignoring any looks they get as she heads straight for the janitor’s closet.

Once they're inside, Jimin barely has time to close the door behind them before Minjeong is
on her, all restraint down the drain. She doesn’t feel like herself anymore; she’s only aware of
Jimin, every nerve alive, every inch of her skin aching to be closer. She noses Jimin’s scent
gland, brushing her lips along the warm skin of her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses as
the alpha’s breath hitches, her body taut with tension.

“Please, Jimin,” Minjeong murmurs, voice thick with need. A groan rumbles in Jimin’s chest
as her hand slides to Minjeong's waist, tugging her close until Minjeong feels the hardness
pressing against her, making her shiver. She sinks her teeth lightly into Jimin’s neck in
response, unable to hold back.

Jimin’s fingers slip into Minjeong’s hair, curling into it as she pulls her head back just enough
to capture her lips and their mouths meet with a shared urgency. Jimin’s lips are perfect—
kissing her soft but firm, fitting perfectly against hers and all she can do is melt into it.

Jimin pulls back just slightly, her lips brushing against Minjeong’s, muttering, “Stick out your
tongue.” And she obeys immediately. Jimin’s mouth closes around her tongue eagerly,
sucking and lapping on it like she thought about this before. Minjeong whimpers against her
lips, their shared saliva messily dripping on her chin as the kiss grows deeper, raw and
unrestrained. Her hands instinctively move down, nails grazing Jimin’s toned abs then her
fingers trail lower until they find the hard bulge straining against her sweatpants, and the
alpha growls, the sound rumbling low in her chest, before she finds herself slammed back
against the wall and Jimin’s mouth on her neck.

She kisses and sucks along the sensitive skin, each rough pull of her lips drawing soft moans
from Minjeong, she exposes more of her neck in response. Her fingers threading tightly into
Jimin’s hair, trying to guide her down, but Jimin instead lifts her shirt just enough to tug her
bra down, freeing her perky tits without bothering to remove it entirely. Minjeong’s nipples
are already hard, and Jimin fingertips trace over one, the gentle pressure making Minjeong
whimper, her back arching. Her gasps fill the air as Jimin cups her breast fully, giving it a
rough squeeze, kneading it in her hand, making the nipple rub against her palm. With the
ravenous mouth still sucking on her neck, each touch drives her madder.

Then she lets go of her neck and without giving Minjeong a chance of missing the warmth of
her mouth, she latches on to her left tit. Her mouth closes around it, tongue tracing slow,
deliberate circles over the sensitive peak. She sucks, bites, and kisses, her mouth moving in a
way that keeps Minjeong teetering on the edge, each sensation more intense than the last. As
Jimin moves to the other one, her hand doesn’t leave the first, squeezing and kneading, her
thumb brushing over the nipple in sync with her mouth.

Minjeong is enjoying the attention she is receiving, she really does, the way each swipe of
her tongue and graze of her teeth pulling louder, needier sounds from her is enough proof.
Jimin is really into whatever she’s doing down there, but she needs more—she needs Jimin
lower .

She tries to push her down with the hand that's tangled in her hair but Jimin seems entirely
lost in her own head, too caught up leaving angry, red marks on every inch of her skin to
notice. So growing desperate, Minjeong tugs on her hair, a little rougher this time. That gets
Jimin’s attention. She releases a nipple, looking up with a dazed expression, her lips parted as
she searches Minjeong’s face, trying to read what she needs. Minjeong can only breathe out a
soft, pleading “Please,” hoping Jimin gets the memo and she must have because in the next
moment her hands slide down on Minjeong’s body as she slowly sinks to her knees.
She hooks her fingers into the waistband of Minjeong’s shorts and panties, pulling them
down in one smooth motion, and the omega catches the way her gaze darkens at the sight of
her soaked underwear. She bites her lip, watching as Jimin inhales deeply, scent of peaches-
and-cream fills the room, and a low, primal grunt escapes Jimin’s throat. Minjeong yelps as
Jimin hoists one of her legs over her shoulder, her hands immediately cling tightly to Jimin’s
hair, using her as an anchor so she won’t collapse. The alpha only smirks up at her, leaning in
and giving her long, teasing licks that leaves her trembling. A low, satisfied hum rumbles
from Jimin’s chest, and Minjeong’s eyes flutter close, head tilting back as she surrenders,
ready to take whatever Jimin’s willing to give.

But then—a sharp sting cuts through her haze. Minjeong’s eyes fly open as she realizes Jimin
bit her, a small, claiming mark left on her inner thigh. She looks down but before she can
appreciate how beautiful the alpha looks with her arousal coating her face, Jimin is back at it
again. She licks her up and starts to eat her like a starved animal, drinking right out of her,
nails digging on the leg she is holding up, teasing her entrance with the tip of her tongue
while gaze firmly locked with Minjeong.

It’s filthy and unashamed, Jimin’s mouth glistening her slick but she doesn’t look away—if
anything, she looks almost smug, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to her. Minjeong’s
first instinct is to close her eyes again, to lose herself in the raw pleasure, but she catches
herself and instead bites down on her lower lip, keeping her gaze steady as best as she can.
She knows how much Jimin loves an audience, loves being watched; she always plays to the
crowd on the field, taking her time with every victory lap, basking in the attention. It’s no
wonder she wants Minjeong’s eyes on her now, wants her to witness every second of her
being utterly ruined.

She doesn’t know why she obeys Jimin’s wishes, but she does. It’s as if all her thoughts
dissolve in the heat of the moment, and she finds herself willing to let Jimin do anything just
to keep the girl close like this. Then, Jimin shifts her focus, changing pace and zeroing in on
Minjeong's clit, sucking on it with a fervor that makes it increasingly difficult for her to hold
herself up. Fresh arousal leaks out of her as Jimin begins to tap her clit repeatedly.

With one hand squeezing her ass, the other one makes its way to join her mouth. She’s so wet
that two fingers get in easily, curling just right, pressing against that spot that makes her toes
curl and each flick of Jimin’s tongue against her clit makes Minjeong's mind go blissfully
blank, every thought scattering. Her eyes flutter, head falling back, but she forces herself to
look down again, desperate to see the sight of Jimin’s face buried between her legs. She
grinds down harder onto Jimin’s mouth, her breath coming in ragged moans as her hips move
instinctively, craving more of that intoxicating pleasure.
“God, Jimin,” she gasps, her voice raw, barely coherent. In response, Jimin lets out a low,
satisfied hum, her lips never leaving Minjeong as her fingers thrust deep, relentless. Each
thrust drives Minjeong higher, the pressure building within her until it feels unbearable. Her
whole body tightens, and her grip on Jimin’s hair grows firmer.

Finally, her orgasm crashes over her, her body shuddering as she cries out, grinding onto
Jimin’s mouth one last time, her vision going white from the intensity. Jimin fucks her
through the high, prolonging the orgasm long as possible. Minjeong lets out a final,
shuddering moan, her body completely spent, yet she clings to Jimin, trying to ground herself
in the aftermath. When the sensitivity starts to become too much, and the fog that clouds her
mind starts to disappear, she taps Jimin’s head gently, a breathy laugh escaping her with how
eager the alpha still seems.

But she listens and lets Minjeong’s leg slip from her shoulder, her arms wrapping around her
waist to steady her as she stands, pressing gentle kisses along her jaw before capturing her
lips again. Minjeong tastes herself on Jimin’s tongue, a reminder of just how thoroughly she’s
been taken apart. She wants to surrender herself to kiss, let Jimin steal the breath right out of
her lungs again but the hard-on that presses firmly against her is really distracting, especially
when Jimin straight up starts to hump her leg.

Smirking, Minjeong lets her hand trail down, slipping into Jimin’s sweatpants to return the
favor. Jimin shudders, her face dropping into Minjeong’s neck just as her hand wraps around
her length. She feels how hard Jimin is, warm and thick in her hand, pulsing against her
fingers—and it makes her want to squeeze just a little tighter, just to see Jimin’s reaction.

With the pathetic whimper that leaves alpha’s lips she has to bite back a laugh. But she
decides not to tease her too much—not after the mind-blowing orgasm Jimin just gave her.
She gives a slow, deliberate stroke, trying to get a good feeling of how her cock feels
wrapped in her hand before picking up the pace but Jimin’s eyes slam shut, a low groan
slipping out as she presses even closer, hips bucking rapidly into Minjeong’s touch with just
that first stroke.

And oh wow —Jimin comes so much. Her body goes rigid, a final shudder rolling through
her as her release soaks the fabric of her sweatpants, her breaths rough and shaky against
Minjeong’s neck as she rides out every pulse of her high.
For a long moment, they stay pressed together, the only sounds filling the space being their
ragged breaths and the soft rustle of clothes. Jimin finally lifts her head, and Minjeong
releases the spent dick, pulling her hand slowly from her sweatpants. When Jimin catches
sight of Minjeong's cum covered fingers, her cheeks flush crimson.

“I... sorry,” she mumbles, turning her gaze to the floor in embarrassment like she did earlier
in the locker room—only now, even shyer.

Minjeong chuckles softly, reaching out and stroking Jimin’s hair soothingly with her clean
hand. “Hey, it’s okay.” She leans in and plants a quick kiss on Jimin’s forehead. “Really. And
thank you.”

Jimin nods, a smile creeping onto her lips as she mutters a “Thank you ,” back. Then her gaze
lingers back on Minjeong’s face, she stares, stares and stares like she is trying to memorize
every detail of her skin and Minjeong shifts under the intensity of it. Their mixed
pheromones hanging in the small room was overwhelming enough, she doesn’t need Jimin
boring into her soul on top of that.

“So?” Minjeong finally asks, breaking the silence.

Jimin blinks a few times, as if snapping out of a trance, and clears her throat. “Oh, umm... we
should probably go now before someone else walks in.”

“Right.”

-:-

Once they go out everybody knows what went down in that closet. They don’t even have to
spare them a glance to tell when the smell of sex is evident on both of them.

Minjeong is quite uncomfortable under the second looks they get, she wishes they could just
teleport instead of dealing with this awkward walk back to dorms. She is fully aware her own
scent is blanketed with Jimin’s too—the girl practically marked her while coming but at least
it hides her omega nature, though it’s clear to anyone nearby that she just bottomed for Jimin
in some way which is somehow more humiliating.

She does feel better though when she realizes most people focus their attention to the dark
stain on Jimin’s sweatpants. At least the proof of the way she was ruined is hidden beneath
her clothes and that makes it easier to hold her head a little higher as they walk away while
this time Jimin is the one clinging to her side, trying to hide away.

It’s almost funny, watching the confident alpha, usually so bold, trying to shrink away now. If
this was any other day, Minjeong would make sure Jimin never heard the end of it, teasing
her for every second of embarrassment. But since Jimin had helped her out today, Minjeong
settles for just finding her adorable instead—though, of course, she’d never admit it out loud
and use this moment as a bullet for the next time the alpha pisses her off.

They finally make it back to Minjeong’s room, where they both stand around awkwardly,
neither quite sure what to say. Jimin clears her throat, being the one breaking the silence this
time. “So… will you be okay once it, you know… actually starts?”

Minjeong nods quickly, waving her hand. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve dealt with this a lot.” Not that it
was getting any easier, though. She caved in and bought a vibrator a few months back just to
get through it, but she keeps that detail to herself.

Silence settles again, and Minjeong catches Jimin’s stare, her heart picking up speed as Jimin
chews on her lower lip. “What?” she asks, trying to keep her tone casual.

“It’s just, um…” Jimin hesitates, and Minjeong’s pulse skips, an excitement she hates
building up. Is she going to ask if…

But Jimin just swallows and shifts her weight. “Just… good luck, okay? I, uh, should go
clean up and stuff.”

Oh. Never mind. Minjeong forces a smile. “Yeah, you do that. Well… bye.”
 “Bye.” Jimin gives her a quick, awkward wave, and Minjeong watches her leave, frustrated
with her inner omega for feeling disappointed. Who needs Jimin anyway? She clenches her
jaw, forcing herself to snap out of it, and finally turns back into her room to actually prepare
for the heat that’s fast approaching.

Chapter End Notes

pls let me know what you think because i need validation also twt:shroomrina
 love my way
Chapter Summary

It seemed foolproof. But the thought of going down on anyone else, of tasting
something that wasn’t peaches, made her want to puke. Jesus Christ, what had
Minjeong done to her? All Jimin wanted was to make a diet out of her, to spend her
days between Minjeong’s legs, maybe even die choking between her thighs.

She’d be pretty content with her death like that.

Chapter Notes

hii sorry this took a little long hope you like it!!!

Minjeong, Minjeong, Minjeong.

It was all Jimin could think about. Her thoughts echoed the name—a relentless mantra that
matched the rhythm of her hips as she thrust up into the fleshlight she gripped tightly in one
hand, while the other kept Minjeong’s panties pressed to her nose, her face buried in the
lingering scent.

She found them when she unzipped her bag after stumbling back to her room. Her first
thought was how she could’ve saved herself so much embarrassment if she remembered to
swap out her stained sweatpants for her jersey shorts. But all rational thoughts disappeared
when Minjeong’s mouthwatering scent hit her, thick and intoxicating, lingering heavily in the
fabric from the wetness soaked through earlier. Any idea of cleaning up disappeared as she
fell back onto the bed, letting herself drown in Minjeong’s scent, imagining her on top of her,
those toned thighs around her hips, quiet gasps and soft whimpers slipping from her lips.

It doesn’t take much for Jimin to reach her peak again, and she tries to draw out every last bit
of pleasure. She tightens her grip around the fleshlight, thrusting with a desperation she
knows should embarrass her, but she’s far past caring. Her hips snap up, faster and rougher,
as she pictures Minjeong riding her, head tipped back, lips parted, eyes heavy with need. She
might even rake down Jimin’s arms, leave angry marks across her biceps because the
pleasure is too much. God, she badly wants to see Minjeong lose herself too, to watch her
unravel completely, to feel every tremble and pulse as she takes Jimin deep. The thought only
drives her hips harder, her chest heaving as she tries to hold onto the fantasy.

But nothing seems enough, the reality is too hollow.

With a frustrated sigh, her grip loosens, and she lets out a growl, tossing the toy to the floor
after yet another unsatisfactory climax. It had been like this for hours, each attempt to sate
her need only leaving her feeling emptier, hungrier, and no closer to relief.

She doesn’t understand what the hell is wrong with her. The sheer enormity of her desire
disgusts her as she glares at her still-hard dick. Sure, her craving for Minjeong wasn’t exactly
new. The girl always talked back, mocked her voice cracks, and never listened, so it was only
natural for Jimin to want to claim her, to pull Minjeong under her, fuck her into submission,
and paint that sharp tongue white. Even when she thought the girl was a beta.

But whatever is happening in her body right now is on a whole other level. It’s like her rut
has come early—weeks earlier than expected—but her head is still clear, not fogged over like
the usual onset of rut. She frowns, frustrated, and quickly writes that idea off, left only with
the simmering ache that won’t leave her alone.

Defeated, she blindly reaches for her phone on the nightstand, not caring that her cum-
covered fingers are smudging the screen as she scrolls through her contacts. There were at
least half a dozen cheerleaders who’d be more than happy to help her with this… problem .
She’d helped a couple of them through their heats before so setting up a date where she could
charm her way into someone’s pants would be easy. A few drinks in, Jimin might even be
shameless enough to ask her to wear Minjeong’s sweaty jersey and she’d be stupid enough to
say yes.

It seemed foolproof. But the thought of going down on anyone else, of tasting something that
wasn’t peaches, made her want to puke. Jesus Christ, what had Minjeong done to her? All
Jimin wanted was to make a diet out of her, to spend her days between Minjeong’s legs,
maybe even die choking between her thighs.

She’d be pretty content with her death like that.

Before she even realizes it, Jimin finds herself typing out a text to Minjeong. “How’s it
going?” she starts, then follows up a couple of minutes later with, “Should I come over, bring
you some snacks, or…?” Ten minutes later, there’s still no response. Frustrated, she sighs and
adds, “Just let me know if you need help with anything.”

She waits... and waits... and waits, right up until she’s ready to toss her phone to the floor to
join her fleshlight. Then, finally, the reply pings back: “No, thank you.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches, irritation flaring up. She can’t understand why Minjeong would deny
her this—deny both of them this pleasure when all it would take is for Jimin to show up at
her door to turn the omega into a salivating dog. The moment Minjeong catches a whiff of
her, Jimin knows the omega won’t hold back. She would drag her in and they would tear into
each other just like they had in the janitor’s closet. It would be so easy, so satisfying for both
of them.

So why hold back? The thought tempts her, pushing her closer to action. She considers
ignoring Minjeong’s refusal and just showing up anyway—she knows the girl wouldn’t say
no once the scent hit her. But… would that really be Minjeong? No, no, that would just be the
heat talking when in reality the girl hated her. And using her when she was like that, when
she didn’t have a choice… no, Jimin wouldn’t let herself become the kind of person she’d
warned Minjeong about.

She’s better than that.

Right?

She hovers there, tense, her mind spinning with want and restraint. Finally, with a sharp
breath, she slaps a hand over her face, giving herself a hard shake. You already had your
chance, and you chickened out. Frustrated, she heads toward the shower, hoping the cold
water will drown out the urge clawing at her.

-:-
The days following their encounter until the next practice are… eventful, to say the least.
First, there’s Aeri, who floods Jimin’s phone with texts demanding to know if the rumors
about her and Minjeong are true and how in the world she’d managed to get the girl to help
her through a rut. Jimin ignores the messages, fucking into her own hand offers a great
distraction, though she’s admittedly grateful that everyone assumed it was a rut rather than
picking up on the truth of Minjeong being an omega.

Then there’s Yizhuo, who only texts her once but spends the entire walk to class tailing her
with relentless curiosity. “So, Minjeong-unnie helped you with your rut?” she asks, eyebrow
raised.

“Well, it wasn’t really—” Jimin tries to explain.

“And you came in your pants?” Yizhuo cuts in, eyes sparkling with glee. Jimin just sighs and
nods, accepting that she’s not going to change anyone’s mind.

Even Ryujin makes a comment in class, asking flat-out when she started hooking up with
betas, which explains the judgmental looks Jimin has been receiving. It baffles her why
everyone is so invested in where she chooses to stick her dick. It’s not like alpha-beta
pairings are unheard of on campus, there are plenty of them! Even alphas dating other alphas
becoming normalized but it seems she’s held to a different standard which isn't something
exactly new.

Jimin has been dealing with people’s expectations for as long as she can remember. Even
before she hit puberty, everyone knew she’d be an alpha. She was always physically ahead of
her peers—stronger, faster, sharper, just better . She earned her spot as team captain in only
her second year because of that, and with it came privileges, like practices getting canceled
due her ruts, and disadvantages, like being the one to get yelled at after a loss over her seniors
with more experience.

And now, apparently, as the campus’s most desired alpha, people expect her to pair up with
an omega who matches her status. She has always known what people expect from her, but
she hadn’t realized just how much they cared. Didn’t they have their own lives to worry
about?
As if things couldn’t get any worse, her phone buzzes with a message from the coach: “Come
to my office ten minutes before practice.”

Jimin sighs, running a hand through her hair. Great.

-:-

She arrives outside of the coach’s office with a heavy sigh and when she opens the door
Minjeong is already there; sitting at the far end of the couch, her arms crossed, her gaze fixed
on a random spot on the floor.

Clearing her throat, Jimin moves to take a seat beside her, leaving a good amount of distance
between them. As she settles in, she catches a faint whiff of peaches and her brows knits in
surprise. No way . Minjeong wouldn’t just stop taking her scent blockers—so why is her
scent slipping through now? Did they just… stop working on her?

She glances over at Minjeong for acknowledgement, maybe to exchange awkward smiles but
the omega’s focus remains entirely elsewhere, her jaw set and lips pressed tightly together.

A few moments of silence pass before the coach strides in, closing the door firmly behind
him. His gaze is hard, unreadable, as he takes his seat behind the desk with a sigh.

“Alright,” he begins, leaning forward, hands clasped in front of him. “I’m hearing some
things I’d rather not be hearing. Things that are quite unpleasant and, frankly, I hope are
untrue.”

Jimin’s pulse quickens, though she tries her best to keep her face steady. Next to her,
Minjeong shifts uncomfortably but remains silent, her gaze still pinned on the floor.

His eyes flicker to her. “Jimin, first of all, would you like to explain what happened to
Minjeong’s locker?”
Jimin stammers, searching for the right words as she feels Minjeong stiffen beside her. “Well,
uh,” she begins slowly, “I was just playing a prank on her by… by stealing her clothes,” she
mumbles, shrinking under his disapproving stare. She forces a small, awkward laugh. “You
know how I love to tease our Minjeongie.”

“And when you saw her naked, it triggered your rut?” His voice is flat, unimpressed.

“Umm…” Jimin’s face heats up, scrambling for an explanation that doesn’t sound utterly
pathetic. She tries to laugh it off again, but it comes out strained. “It wasn’t really a rut,
Coach. It’s just… something I couldn’t exactly control. I’m sorry.”

Coach’s expression darkens. “Don’t apologize to me.” He nods toward Minjeong. “Apologize
to her. ”

She turns to Minjeong, her mouth opening to offer an apology, but the coach doesn’t give her
a chance to do so. “Jimin, we don’t allow omegas on the team to prevent this exact kind of
thing! Are you saying that you’re just going to jump on your teammates whenever you feel
like it because you can’t control yourself?”

“No—no, I’m sorry! This was a one-time thing, and it’s never going to happen again,” Jimin
says, her voice cracking slightly. She takes a shaky breath, turning to the girl next to her. “I’m
really sorry, Minjeong. I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries.”

Coach lets out a sigh again, tilting his head as he regards her sternly. “Look, Jimin, you’re the
team captain. I expect better judgment from you, especially when it comes to respecting your
teammates.” He turns his gaze to Minjeong, his expression softening slightly. “As for you,
Minjeong… if there’s any kind of relationship here, then this kind of thing cannot happen
again. Understood?”

Minjeong quickly nods, her face flushed as she mumbles, “Yes, Coach.”
Coach takes a deep breath, seeming to collect himself before speaking again. “Good. Let’s
leave this behind us and keep things professional from now on. I don’t want to hear any more
about this—on or off the court. Got it? I can’t have you two messing up the team dynamics.”

Both Jimin and Minjeong nod in silence, and the coach gives a dismissive wave. Without
another word, they stand and head for the door.

-:-

They don’t say much on their way back to the basketball court, much to Jimin’s dismay.
Minjeong lets out a soft “Thank you,” and Jimin replies with a casual, “No problem,” and
that is the end of it.

The alpha wanted to egg her on a little, maybe make a joke about how she handled her heat
and try to draw out one of those cute reactions the omega always gave when flustered but
something held her back. It was odd, Jimin felt like she was picking up on Minjeong’s
emotions in a way she never had before. Sure, in the past, she could tell when Minjeong was
embarrassed—her flushed cheeks and snappy comebacks had always been a dead giveaway
but this was much more different than that.

She could feel Minjeong’s discomfort, the subtle tension radiating from her, and underneath it
all was something else: Fear. It wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was there, simmering beneath
the surface, and Jimin’s instincts told her to shut up and give her some space so she listened.

That didn’t mean it was easy though.

The gym is quiet as the team starts warming up, but Jimin’s focus is all over the place. She
can still feel Minjeong’s unease as she stretches on the sidelines, can still catch the faint scent
of peaches and cream and she doesn’t know how she can focus like that.

Her gaze keeps drifting, no matter how hard she tries to concentrate. The way Minjeong’s
jersey shorts ride up, exposing the soft, pale skin of her thighs, is driving Jimin insane. She
curses the shorts for not being shorter, then curses herself for even thinking that way. Her
mind wanders to the mark she left on Minjeong’s inner thigh in the janitor’s closet, and her
heart stumbles into a faster rhythm at the thought.

Was it still there? Did it still ache when Minjeong touched it? Did Minjeong think about
Jimin every time she saw it, her hands trembling as she fucked herself through the heat?

The fact that she didn't know was maddening.

She starts to think about all the ways she can find out about it and snaps out of it in an instant
because she wasn’t about to pop a boner in the middle of the practice and embarrass herself.

Again.

When it’s time to team up, the coach splits them onto different sides, which does nothing for
her Minjeong-deprived state. Her frustration brews into something worse when she notices
Aeri hovering near the omega on the bench.

The other alpha leans in close, whispering something in Minjeong’s ear that makes her
giggle, and Jimin has to fight the irrational urge to snarl. Her grip tightens on the ball in her
hands, her nails digging into the material. Aeri had always been sweet with Minjeong—
maybe too sweet—but it had never bothered Jimin this much before.

Her mind flickers back to Aeri’s questioning messages. Why did she care about it so much?

Jimin remembers all the times the other alpha had cut between them, defending Minjeong
and making her look bad, when all she’d ever meant was harmless banter. Was it really her
fault that she loved teasing Minjeong? The omega was irresistible when her cheeks flushed
crimson, her eyes darting away in embarrassment.

But Aeri always had to butt in, of course, swooping in like some noble savior and ruining
what little time Jimin got to spend with Minjeong. The worst part? Minjeong always looked
so damn grateful. She would flash Aeri those soft smiles, the kind she’d never give Jimin—
just like she was doing now.

She doesn’t even realize she’s glaring until a nudge to her shoulder breaks her out of it.

“Yo, Captain, you good?” Someone—Yunjin asks, raising a brow at her.

Jimin forces a quick nod, rolling her shoulders to loosen the tension. “Yeah,” she mutters.
“Let’s play.”

Her eyes flicker back to Minjeong one last time before the game starts, and Aeri is still there,
offering her hand to help Minjeong up from the bench. Jimin’s jaw clenches as she watches
Minjeong take it.

-:-

The game is neck-and-neck, both teams fighting tooth and nail to stay ahead. Jimin tries to
stay focused, but her attention keeps slipping, and it’s costing her. She doesn’t do a good job
guarding Minjeong, letting her get away more than once to shoot clean shots into the net.

Each time it happens, Minjeong glares at her, the fire in her eyes hot enough to burn. Jimin
can only shrug helplessly, unable to find a good excuse for her lack of effort and that only
makes Minjeong more irritated—the alpha can feel it and she’s definitely not getting used to
that any time soon.

Her frustration bubbles over in other ways, though. When Aeri goes for a rebound, Jimin
lunges harder than she needs to, maybe shoves her a little as their shoulders collide with a
solid thud and Aeri hits the floor with a groan, glaring up at her.
“What the fuck, dude?” She snaps, rubbing her elbow as she stands up but Jimin just stares at
her, unbothered while the whistle blows. The coach awards Aeri a free throw, and the alpha
steps aside without arguing, her eyes dart around to Minjeong and she finds the omega
already frowning at her.

The game presses on, tension thick in the air. Time is running out, and Jimin’s team clings to
a one-point lead. As the final seconds tick down, Minjeong ends up in front of her, dribbling
the ball. Jimin is supposed to block her, to stop her from scoring—but she doesn’t.

Her legs feel heavy, her instincts pulling her in two directions. Instead of closing the distance,
she hesitates, leaving Minjeong an opening and the omega doesn’t hesitate. Her two pointer
arcs cleanly, swishing through the net just as the buzzer gets off.

The opposite team erupts in cheers, but the omega stays frozen, her eyes locked on Jimin.
The cheers quiet down when Minjeong turns, her voice cutting through the air.

“No, that doesn’t count,” she says sharply, pointing directly at Jimin. “She let me shoot it.”

Jimin raises her hands in innocence, her voice light. “I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

But Minjeong isn’t buying it. Her casual tone seems to anger her more. She marches right up
to Jimin, stopping inches from her face, her gaze blazing. “What, you think I’m going to
crumble if you push me a little? You think I’m that weak that you had to let me have the
match point?”

Jimin shakes her head, a small chuckle escaping her. “That’s not—”

Minjeong takes one more step, grabbing her by the collar of her jersey and yanking her
forward. “Don’t play with me,” the omega growls, her voice low and Jimin panics. Not
because she’s intimidated, but because having her this close again sends her mind spiraling.
“I know—”
Before she can finish, the coach’s whistle cuts through the tension like a blade. “Practice is
over,” he barks, his voice stern, eyes narrowing on both of them.

Minjeong releases Jimin’s jersey with a frustrated shove, stepping back. Around them,
teammates exchange uneasy glances, and she can hear them whisper to each other. Jimin
stays rooted in place, her heart pounding as Minjeong turns on her heel and walks off without
another word.

The gym empties out slowly, teammates walking past Jimin on their way to the locker room.
Each glance they throw her way feels heavier than the last, making her feel completely out of
place. She hates the sinking realization that she’s losing the team’s respect, and it gnaws at
her more than she’d like to admit. The same bare, exposed feeling she had walking back to
her dorm with those ruined sweatpants clinging to her—but this time, she doesn’t have a
Minjeong to cling to for distraction.

“Jimin-unnie!” A voice calls from behind, and then a hand loops around her arm. She glances
down to see Yizhuo grinning up at her, sweat plastering her bangs to her forehead. “Aren’t
you coming?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimin mutters, shaking herself out of her thoughts. “Let’s go.”

Normally, walking like this—linked arm-in-arm while sticky and gross—would make her
want to shove the beta off. Right now she doesn’t mind it much though. It’s grounding in a
way she needs more than she wants to admit.

As they head toward the locker room, Yizhuo tilts her head, her grin shifting to something far
too mischievous. “By the way, I’m glad you and Minjeong finally, you know…” She wiggles
her eyebrows.

Jimin groans. “Yizhuo—”

“What? You can talk to me about this!” The beta insists, giving her arm a playful shake. “You
clearly need advice. Minjeong-unnie seemed pretty pissed.”
Jimin sighs, her free hand dragging down her face. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not happening
again.”

“Why not? Is it because she’s a beta?” Yizhuo gasps dramatically.

“ No .” Jimin rolls her eyes. “It's because we’re teammates.”

Yizhuo opens her mouth to retort, but they’ve already arrived at the locker room. Jimin uses
the opportunity to pull her arm free and deflect.

“Look,” Jimin says, stopping to face her. “We’ve both moved on from it, so you and
everyone else need to let it go too, got it?”

“But—”

“No buts,” Jimin cuts her off, narrowing her eyes. “Go practice low defense instead of
meddling in my private life, because your stance sucks ass.” She reaches out and gives the
beta light shove to the head. “And now, go shower, because you stink.”

Yizhuo huffs, rolling her eyes. “You underestimate me if you think I’m not finding out what
the hell happened, but fine . You’re free for now.”

“Go,” Jimin says, her voice lighter now. Yizhuo gives her an exaggerated glare but turns and
heads into the locker room with Jimin following close behind.

Yizhuo walks over to her locker, pulling it open to grab her bag, while Jimin sinks onto one
of the benches, her shoulders slumping slightly as she lets out a deep sigh. Her eyes drift
across the room, landing on Minjeong’s locker—already fixed, its door perfectly aligned as
though nothing had happened. Not a sight of the girl, though. As usual, Minjeong was
already in the showers, probably halfway done by now.
The omega always finished washing up first, slipping out of the locker room as quickly as
possible. Jimin used to think it was just a quirk, part of the mysterious, too-cool-for-you vibe
Minjeong sometimes gave off. But now? Now she gets it. Minjeong wasn’t rushing because
she didn’t want to talk to anyone—she was rushing because she didn’t want anyone breathing
in her sweet scent, didn’t want to attract attention she clearly hated.

Still, Jimin finds it criminal that Minjeong has to hide herself like that. If Minjeong ever finds
a way to bottle her pheromones and sell them as perfume, she is sure the omega wouldn’t
have to worry about tuition ever again. Hell, Minjeong could probably sell the slick she’d
accumulated during her heat as lube and make a fortune.

The thought draws a smirk to Jimin’s lips. Maybe she should pitch the idea to Minjeong—
just to see the omega’s face when she realizes how badly Jimin wants her. Then again, there’s
a good chance a conversation like that would end with Jimin getting stabbed. And while the
idea of dying by Minjeong’s beautiful hands holds a certain poetic appeal, she’d much prefer
it happening after she gets to know how warm Minjeong’s walls would feel around her.

-:-

Jimin doesn’t get a chance to properly talk to Minjeong until much later. It happens by
accident when she heads to the outdoor court for a midnight practice, hoping to clear her
mind.

The street lights shed a faint glow across the court, and as Jimin steps closer, first she
breathes in the scent of peaches and cream then she sees the omega is already there, shooting
hoops. But something’s clearly off. Unlike her usual sharp, calculated shots, Minjeong is
missing more often than not. The ball clatters off the rim, bouncing away in unpredictable
directions.

Jimin leans against the fence for a moment, watching. It doesn’t take long to confirm what
she suspected—the point guard’s mind is elsewhere. When Minjeong unknowingly travels ,
Jimin can’t help but huff in surprise. She thought she’d never see the day, not even if
Minjeong was playing against herself.
That’s when she knows she has to intervene.

Pushing off the fence, Jimin steps onto the court. The squeak of her sneakers breaks the quiet,
but Minjeong doesn’t seem to notice.

“Hey,” Jimin calls out and Minjeong jolts, the ball slipping from her hands and bouncing to
the ground. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“No,” Minjeong grunts, slightly relaxed now but still visibly irritated when she recognizes
her visitor. She bends to retrieve the ball, muttering as she straightens, “Why are you here,
Yu?”

“Same reason you’re here,” Jimin replies, gesturing toward the ball tucked against her waist.
“To practice.”

“Since when were you one for midnight practice?” Minjeong asks, passing the ball from one
hand to the other before attempting a jump shot. The ball bounces off the rim and rolls
toward Jimin.

“Since always,” Jimin says, walking forward. She plants her foot firmly on the ball, stopping
it in its tracks.

“Bullshit. I’ve never seen you around.” Minjeong finally turns fully toward her, the
annoyance on her face plain as day.

“So maybe I’m here when you’re not.”

“Well I’m here now so you should fuck off,” Minjeong snaps.

Jimin smirks, barely holding back a laugh. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to rile her up, and she
wasn’t even trying. “Court ain’t yours, is it?”
Minjeong sighs, her gaze dropping to the ball still pinned under Jimin’s foot. She shoots her a
pointed glare. Jimin’s smirk only widens, but she lifts her foot and nudges the ball back.
Minjeong snatches it up, lines up her shot and finally lands one.

Jimin watches in amusement as Minjeong’s lips twitch like she’s trying not to smile, clearly
don’t want to show her excitement. The omega clears her throat before asking, “You gonna
actually practice? Or are you here to be a creep again?”

Instead of answering, Jimin tosses her own ball toward the opposite end of the court and
strides over to her. The glow of the street lights overhead catches on Minjeong’s skin,
drawing Jimin’s attention to the small mole under her left eye. Every detail about the omega
feels magnetic in a way that makes Jimin’s chest tighten.

“Want to practice together?” She asks, voice leveled despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Minjeong hesitates, spinning the ball in her hands before giving a small shrug. “Fine,” she
mutters, stepping back with the ball.

Jimin takes position in front of her, arms spread wide. “I’ll play defense first. Show me what
you’ve got.”

Minjeong lets out a breath and starts dribbling. She tries a feint to the left, but Jimin
anticipates it, shifting quickly to block her path. Minjeong pivots sharply, darting to the right,
but Jimin’s hand reaches out, stealing the ball with ease.

“Getting lazy now?” Jimin teases as she passes the ball back.

“I’m just getting started,” Minjeong huffs, but there’s a playful edge to her tone.
On her next attempt, Minjeong uses a clean crossover to slip past Jimin and make a quick
jump shot. The ball sails into the net, and she can’t hide her small grin.

“Nice one,” Jimin says, her praise genuine.

Minjeong doesn’t respond, just nods a little awkwardly. Then she motions for Jimin to take
the ball. “Your turn,” she says, moving into position.

Jimin dribbles, studying Minjeong as the girl squares her shoulders and lowers her stance.
Minjeong has alway been good at defense—quick, sharp, and persistent—but there was still
room for improvement.

She feints left and watches Minjeong bite. Before she can recover, Jimin pulls back and takes
a clean mid-range shot. It lands easily.

“Not bad,” Minjeong mutters begrudgingly.

They settle into a rhythm surprisingly quickly, switching roles and keeping each other on
their toes. Minjeong grows more confident with each turn, her movements sharper, more
precise. She still fumbles on occasion—her mind clearly not fully in the game—but Jimin
doesn’t call her out for it even though she desperately wants to know if her own alpha
pheromones are affecting the omega too. Wonders if Minjeong can feel the pull, if that’s the
reason she seems a little off tonight.

But instead, she keeps throwing out small compliments. “Nice recovery,” she says after
Minjeong regains control of a near-steal. “Good read,” she adds when Minjeong guesses one
of her moves and forces her into a harder shot.

The omega doesn’t say much in return, probably not even aware enough of what she's
thinking of this to begin putting it into words, finding this whole thing odd so she just nods
with that slightly awkward air and Jimin finds it endearing.
By the time they pause for a break, Minjeong seems to have turned normal, her breathing
steady as she leans against the fence with her water bottle. Jimin grabs her own bottle from
her bag, taking a sip before speaking.

“By the way,” Jimin starts, tilting her head toward Minjeong. She can’t help but watch the
way the omega’s throat bobs as she drinks from her water bottle. “I washed your jersey. I can
give it back to you tomorrow.”

Minjeong stops mid-sip, lowering her bottle slowly. Her eyes narrow slightly as she turns to
look at Jimin, earlier playfulness gone. “What is the deal with you?”

Jimin blinks. “What do you mean?”

Minjeong huffs, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before setting the bottle aside.
“You’re way too nice. It’s freaking me out. Just… be gross. Be an unadulterated asshole. Be
you . Be Jimin.”

Jimin leans back against the fence, grinning faintly. “Umm, I am being Jimin. Maybe you just
don’t know me yet.”

Minjeong scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Right.”

“What?” Jimin asks, actually curious now. “Do we always have to fight? Can’t we just be
friends?”

Minjeong lets out a snort, “You can’t be serious.”

“But I am,” Jimin insists, her brows knitting together in genuine confusion.

Minjeong’s voice hardens, her frustration showing. “Jimin, this is not what that is. You’re not
being all kind to me because you suddenly want to be friends.”
“Well, why am I doing it then?” She tilts her head, her voice even, challenging her.

“You’re getting all soft because you found out I’m just another girl that can get your dick
wet,” She jabs her finger toward Jimin’s chest, emphasizing the next words. “and that’s never
going to happen. So forget all about what happened and just go back to being an asshole, got
it? I’m not stupid.”

Jimin lets out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck. “Well, if ‘soft’ isn’t doing it for
you, I’d be happy to get all rough, if that’s what you’re into,” she remarks and the omega’s
face twists with disgust. “But you sound a little paranoid. Sometimes I just want to be
someone you can have an actual conversation with.”

“Sure, but why ?” Minjeong shoots back. “You weren’t interested in any of that before you
found out I was an omega. And now, what? You’re afraid to shove me even a little bit
because you think I’m going to break?”

Jimin shakes her head, her grin fading as her voice softens. “Okay, what happened earlier
today wasn’t because of that.”

“Then why?” Minjeong demands, her tone sharper now.

Jimin takes a slow breath, meeting her eyes. “Because I can smell you.”

“What?”

“I can smell you,” Jimin repeats, her voice low but steady, almost raw. “Minjeong, I felt you
everywhere. I still feel you everywhere. I think your scent blockers don’t work on me and
that’s not normal. It’s driving me insane, and you can’t tell me it’s not the same for you too.”
Minjeong blinks, her mouth opening slightly before she stammers, “I—I don’t know what
you’re talking about.”

Jimin raises a brow, tilting her head. “Oh? Then why did you suck tonight?”

“Huh?”

“You wanted me to be harsh,” Jimin shrugs. “Fine. The way you handled the ball was weak,
your movements were predictable, and you traveled when there wasn’t even someone playing
against you. Who does that?” She crosses her arms, her tone biting but not unkind. “And
don’t get me started on the way you kept hesitating at the three-point line. You played like
you were afraid to miss. Completely unconfident.”

Minjeong’s lips press into a thin line, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“And that’s not the Minjeong I know,” Jimin continues, her voice softening slightly but her
gaze steady. “So unless an alien abducted you and replaced you with some cheap knockoff,
I’m going to guess you’re still horny despite your heat passing, and it’s messing with your
head.”

Minjeong swallows, her cheeks going crimson as she shifts where she’s sitting, her hand
gripping her water bottle tightly like it’s the only thing grounding her. “That’s ridiculous,”
she mutters, her voice wavering despite the glare she tries to muster.

“Is it?” Jimin says, not buying it. “Because I’m in the same boat, and I have a solution you’re
not gonna like.”

Minjeong squints at her. “What?”

Jimin leans in slightly. “We need to fuck,” she deadpans.

Minjeong scoffs so hard she nearly chokes, standing up abruptly and brushing the dirt from
her sweatpants. “I knew it,” she mutters under her breath. “Want to be friends, my ass.”

“Hey, no,” Jimin protests, scrambling to her feet. “You need to hear me out!” She reaches for
Minjeong’s wrist, but the omega jerks it away like Jimin’s hand might burn her.

“Absolutely not.”

Jimin throws up her hands. “Look,” she says, trying to sound reasonable, though she knows
how ridiculous this is going to sound. “We started something. We didn’t finish it. Now our
bodies are all aching because of it. We need to get it out of our system!”

Minjeong looks at her like she just sprouted horns. “Please be serious.”

“I am being serious, Minjeong.” Jimin steps forward, grabbing her shoulders gently but
firmly. Her eyes are locked onto the omega’s. “We need to do this. Just once. Then we’ll get
back to normal.”

Minjeong shakes her head, her tone flat, “No.”

Jimin huffs. “Don’t you want to go to Nationals?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Then we need to fuck!”

Minjeong blinks at her, absolutely flabbergasted, before wiping her hand across her face
where some spit may or may not have landed. She fixes Jimin with a look that’s part disgust
and part disbelief. “Do you realize how pathetic you sound right now? I said no.”
“But Min—”

“No!” Minjeong cuts her off, her voice firm and final. “I’m going back to the dorms, alone,
and you’re not walking back with me.”

Jimin opens her mouth to argue but shuts it again when Minjeong glares daggers at her. She
watches the omega stomp off the court, muttering angrily under her breath as she disappears
into the night.

-:-

Following days, Minjeong ignores her, mostly. She only acknowledges Jimin during games,
when absolutely necessary, or to throw a sharp glare her way when she catches the alpha
staring too hard while she’s stretching. Jimin tries to play it cool but she isn’t. Obviously.

Not being able to have Minjeong feels like torture. Jimin’s never wanted someone this bad in
her entire life, and the intensity of it makes her irritable. Everything gets on her nerves lately
—her teammates, the humid air of the gym, even the way the coach whistles too loudly
during drills.

When she wakes up one morning to find she has cummed in her pants after dreaming about
Minjeong’s pretty lips wrapped around her cock, she knows she’s hit her limit.

“Oh, fuck me,” Jimin mutters to herself, this was getting ridiculous. Dragging a hand down
her face as she gets out of bed, she doesn’t even bother looking at the sticky mess in her
boxers before grabbing a fresh pair and heading for the shower.

That’s when she decides to do something she’s never done before. For the first time outside
of her ruts, she takes a dose of mood stabilizers.

It doesn’t fix everything, not completely. The overwhelming want for Minjeong doesn’t
disappear entirely, but at least it’s more manageable. Jimin stops snapping at people
randomly, the tension easing just enough for her to go about her day without biting
someone’s head off.

Even her fleshlight gets a bit of a break. Not much of one—she’s only human, after all—but
she doesn’t feel the need to abuse it three times a day anymore.

After a week that felt like forever Friday comes and the end of practice is as chaotic as usual
in the locker room, everyone shouting over one another as they gather their things. Amid the
chatter, Jimin overhears Aeri’s voice cutting through the noise.

“Hey, Yizhuo,” Aeri calls, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Remember, tonight. My
place.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be there,” Yizhuo replies, tossing her towel into her bag.

“Cool.” Aeri starts walking backward toward the door, pointing at Jimin and Ryujin. “You
guys, too or I’ll kill you.”

“Gotcha,” Ryujin laughs, finishing zipping up her stuff.

Aeri pushes through the hefty double doors and leaves. Only once the doors close does Jimin
let her frown show. She’d totally forgotten about Aeri’s party tonight and frankly she didn’t
feel like going.

“Later,” Jimin mutters to Yizhuo and Ryujin as she finishes pulling her sweatshirt over her
head, ready to make her escape.

Ryujin calls out to her, “You’d better show, Yu, or I’ll go drag your bitch-ass to that party
myself.”

Jimin glances up, her tone dry. “Is Minjeong going to be there?”
Ryujin smirks, a knowing glint in her eye. “Of course she’s going to be there. It’s Aeri’s
place, after all.”

Jimin clenches her jaw, annoyance flickering across her face. “Great,” she mutters under her
breath, apparently everybody knows how to tease her now. Grabbing her bag and slinging it
over her shoulder, she leaves without saying anything else.

-:-

Here she is again.

In the end, she won’t ever say no to a party. There are free drinks and besides, tonight holds
possibilities. Maybe she can find someone to take her mind off Minjeong. No feelings, just
someone she can mount and fuck into oblivion, forgetting for a while the maddening way the
omega’s scent lingers in her brain.

Three shots later, she comes close to that. She’s mumbling half-flirted nonsense to a girl
whose hair is frizzed out from the humidity of the packed room. The girl is mumbling back,
slightly more coherent, definitely more sober, though not by much.

But Jimin isn’t paying attention to her. Not really.

What’s holding Jimin’s attention is the scene in the background.

The music is thumping, a mass of bodies moving in rhythm. In the middle of it, standing out
like they’re in their own spotlight, are two people. Yeji, who Jimin barely recognizes at first,
dances with Minjeong.

Yeji dancing with Minjeong.

Minjeong dancing.

Minjeong.

Fuck.

“Um, yeah dude. Totally,” Jimin slurs absently, her words directed at the girl in front of her,
but her eyes are fixed on the crowd opening up to make room for the pair on the makeshift
dance floor.

There are plenty of other people out there, but Jimin doesn’t see them. All she sees is Yeji
and Minjeong.

Yeji, laughing with that easy charm of hers, she moves gracefully, even with her mind doped
up. Everyone knows she's captivating. A dance major, if Jimin recalls correctly.

But Minjeong.

A wide palm rests on Minjeong’s dainty waist, steadying her smaller frame as she moves to
the heaving bass. Her hips roll in lazy, carefree motions, her head tilting back slightly as she
smiles. It’s the kind of smile that lights up the room.

But it’s not just that.

Minjeong is smiling because Jimin is looking.

And Minjeong is looking right back.

It’s not the first time they’ve played this game of stolen glances, and Jimin knows it won’t be
the last. Their eyes lock across the room, and Jimin feels her breath hitch.

She should look away. She should . It will only hurt in the end.

But she doesn’t.

Because Minjeong is smiling right at her .

So instead, Jimin’s legs start moving on like they have a mind of their own. She doesn’t even
mutter a goodbye to the girl with the frizzy hair—just walking and walking, her focus locked
entirely on Minjeong.

And Minjeong keeps looking.

When Jimin gets close, Yeji acknowledges her first, throwing her a cheerful “Hey!” over the
pounding music.

“Hi,” Jimin yells back, but her attention is still fixed on Minjeong.

The omega tilts her head, her gaze unwavering. It’s not a shy look, or even a drunkenly
unfocused one—it feels deliberate. Like a challenge.

Jimin’s brain scrambles for something, anything to say instead of just standing there like an
idiot. She leans closer, raising her voice above the music. “We need a fourth for beer pong!
Can I steal Minjeong for a bit?”

Yeji just laughs and waves her off. Minjeong, though, shrugs in that easy, detached way of
hers, like it doesn’t matter either way and Jimin starts to wonder if the girl is coked up a little
bit at this point.
“Cool,” Jimin says, more to herself than anyone else, as she motions for Minjeong to follow.

They head over to the beer pong table, where Yizhuo and Aeri are already playing against
each other, and Jimin thanks the all gods above when she sees they barely started.

She clears her throat, trying to play it cool as she announces, “Okay, Minjeong said yes.”

Yizhuo and Aeri both pause, looking between them with brief confusion.

It’s Yizhuo who catches on first, her grin widening as refills the cup she chugged down just
now. “Alright, then. Me and Minjeong against you and Aeri.”

Aeri’s brows knit together though, and just as she opens her mouth to say something, Jimin is
already at her side, slinging an arm around her shoulders and grabbing a ping-pong ball.
“Game on,” she says with a grin.

The game goes on for a while. Who knows how many rounds they’re in? Who cares that
everyone else has disappeared into some other corner of the house, likely getting drunker,
higher, or laid? None of it matters.

What matters is that Minjeong hasn’t missed a single shot, and neither has Jimin. What
matters is that Jimin’s hand is getting more unsteady with each toss while Minjeong, by
contrast, is getting fiercer, more competitive. It took a turn which Jimin didn’t anticipate but
it was Minjeong they were talking about after all.

It’s Jimin’s turn again. Eyes narrowing, she tosses the ping-pong ball with precision. It lands
perfectly in the cup directly in front of Minjeong, brown liquid sloshing up and splattering
onto the girl’s shirt. The edges of her mouth curl smugly. She leans across the table, her upper
body supported by one arm as she fishes out the ball with her fingers. She picks up the cup,
swirling the liquid inside teasingly as she holds it right in front of Minjeong’s face.
“Drink up,” she taunts, grinning as she quickly pulls back when Minjeong snatches the cup
out of her hand and drinks it. Slow.

Jimin just stands there, transfixed, watching the delicate movement of Minjeong’s throat as
she gulps it down. Her gaze drops lower, following the trail of liquid that escapes the corner
of Minjeong’s mouth, sliding down her jaw and onto her slender neck. It disappears into the
damp fabric of her shirt collar, which clings to her skin—probably from sweat, spilled
alcohol, or both.

Jimin swallows hard, unable to tear her eyes away, her mind unhelpfully providing a
thousand thoughts of exactly what else she’d like to do with Minjeong right now.

“Only one more for us to win,” Jimin adds when Minjeong is done, trying to sound smug but
her mind is elsewhere entirely.

Minjeong wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smirking. “Yeah? Not if I even it out.”

Before she can grab the ball, Yizhuo jabs her shoulder. “Hey, it’s my turn.”

“Yeah, yeah. Next turn,” Minjeong waves her off, already focusing on her shot.

“Wh—” Yizhuo throws her hands up, exasperated. “You know what? Fuck you. I’m gonna
go find Ellis.”

“Yeah,” Minjeong hums distractedly, not even sparing her a glance as she tosses the ball in a
wide arc that lands cleanly in a cup.

“Two against one,” Aeri comments, shaking her head as she watches Yizhuo walk off. “Sure
you wanna continue?”
“Yep, and I’m still gonna beat you fuckers,” Minjeong sasses. “Drink up now,” she adds
glaring at Aeri.

Jimin chuckles, maybe the competitive side of Minjeong wasn’t so bad. “What if we make
this more interesting,” she picks up the cup Aeri’s supposed to drink from and slams it down
in one go. “We bet on it and play it one-on-one.” She turns to her side and she flicks the side
of Aeri’s head. “You, fuck off.”

The other alpha glances at Minjeong for confirmation, but the omega barely spares her a
glance as she shrugs. “You heard her.”

“Fucking assholes,” Aeri laughs, throwing up her hands in mock defeat before wandering off
to join the rest of the party.

Left alone at the table, Minjeong cocks her head, looking at Jimin with a raised brow.
“What’s the bet?”

Jimin leans closer, her smirk shifting into something more deliberate. “If I win, you
reconsider my proposal… after you give me a kiss.”

Minjeong snorts, unimpressed. “And if I win?” Jimin opens her mouth and closes, thinking
about it so the omega adds, “You leave me alone?”

Jimin hesitates for a moment before nodding, half-heartedly. “Yep.”

Minjeong hums. “Alright then.”

With a deep breath, Jimin takes her shot, chewing on her bottom lip as she aims carefully, but
the ball hits the rim and bounces off. She lets out a frustrated fuck under her breath, slamming
her hand lightly on the edge of the table.
Across from her, Minjeong’s grin widens into something devilish. She picks up the ball, lines
up her shot, and tosses it with ease. It wobbles slightly but lands in the cup.

“Yes!” Minjeong shouts, throwing her arms up in victory. “Drink, bitch!” she cackles, her
laughter filled with triumph.

Jimin groans but obliges, grabbing the cup and downing the contents. The bitter taste doesn’t
bother her as much as the sinking feeling in her chest—she really doesn’t want to leave
Minjeong alone. Not now, not ever.

When she puts the cup down, Minjeong is already staring at her, her eyes flicking over her
from head to toe. The scrutiny makes Jimin shift slightly, uncomfortably aware of her outfit:
a cropped top that hugged her body snugly and low-rise jeans that fit her like skin. It was as
dolled-up as she ever got for a party, but now she wonders if she should’ve put more effort—
sluttied up more, as Yizhuo would put it—just for Minjeong.

Before she can spiral further into her thoughts, Minjeong’s voice cuts through, clear and
commanding. “Come here,” she says.

Jimin blinks, startled. “What?”

“I said,” Minjeong slurs, “come here.”

Jimin steps closer, her heart pounding. Minjeong slings her arms over Jimin’s tall frame,
draping them just around her broad shoulders. Before Jimin can process what’s happening,
Minjeong rises onto her tiptoes and presses her lips firmly against Jimin’s.

Jimin's body goes rigid, completely taken by surprise. Her mind races to catch up, but by the
time it does, Minjeong has already pulled away. Leaning in again, her lips brush against
Jimin's ear as she murmurs, “If you want me to reconsider your proposal, you’re going to
have to give me more than that.”
The warmth of Minjeong’s breath against her skin short circuits Jimin’s brain. Without
thinking, her hands slide to Minjeong’s waist, pulling her flush against her. This time, when
their lips meet, Jimin is determined to leave no doubt—Minjeong will want her just as much
by the end of it.

Her lips move against Minjeong’s with a hunger she can’t keep at bay any longer. Soft, yet
insistent, she molds her mouth to Minjeong’s, wanting to leave her breathless. The omega
gasps softly into the kiss, her fingers curling into the fabric of Jimin’s cropped top. The world
around them fades as Jimin tilts her head, deepening the kiss, barely holding back her primal
instincts. The cheap beer they drank somehow tasted intoxicatingly sweet when it was on
Minjeong’s lips.

When Jimin’s tongue brushes against Minjeong’s bottom lip, seeking permission, Minjeong
suddenly pulls away. Jimin instinctively follows her, unwilling to let go, but Minjeong
presses her thumb against Jimin’s lips with a soft giggle.

Jimin's eyes are still fixated on Minjeong’s mouth when she says, “I have keys to Aeri’s
room,” voice low and teasing. “Let’s go there?”

-:-

Jimin licks against Minjeong’s lips, then into her mouth, her hot tongue pressing wetly
against Minjeong’s own. All she can feel is heat, overwhelming heat, as Minjeong’s breaths
grow more erratic. Jimin pries her mouth open a little further, tasting her deeply, like she’s
trying to drown herself in the omega.

Her hand slides from Minjeong’s neck to gently cup her jaw, thumb brushing over the soft
skin of her cheek. The other hand moves to her waist, firm but tender, pinning her body
deeper into the mattress as though grounding her in place.

Minjeong’s fingers curl tightly into Jimin’s hair, pulling slightly, but her lips keep up with the
pace Jimin has set. Jimin shifts, angling her body, and presses her knee between Minjeong’s
thighs. The omega’s breath hitches sharply, and a small, desperate sound spills from her lips
—a sound so needy, it nearly undoes Jimin completely.
“Fuck,” Jimin groans, her control fraying as she feels all her blood rushing south. “I want you
so bad.”

Minjeong hums in response, breathy and laced with need. “Then have me,” she whispers,
guiding Jimin’s hand from her jaw to her chest.

Jimin throbs at the invitation, her hand squeezing over the curve of Minjeong’s breast
through her shirt before slipping underneath. Her fingers spread over soft skin as she tugs the
fabric up, pulling it over Minjeong’s head and tossing it aside.

Her mouth doesn’t stop. It moves to Minjeong’s neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along
the delicate skin, biting lightly at the tense muscle there. Her tongue drags over the faint
indentations her teeth leave behind, lapping at the sweat collecting in the hollow of her
throat.

Jimin’s other hand slides under Minjeong’s bra, cupping her breast as her thumb circles the
sensitive peak. She tugs, pinches lightly, and Minjeong arches into her touch, her lips parting
to let out a soft whimper. The sound shoots straight through Jimin, spurring her on. Her hand
moves deftly to the clasp of Minjeong’s bra, unclipping it and pulling it away, tossing it to
some unseen corner of the room.

She doesn’t hesitate, her mouth latching onto the bare skin of Minjeong’s chest, kissing and
sucking like a woman starved. God, she missed this. Minjeong’s tits are perfect—full and
soft, fitting against Jimin’s palms like they were made for her.

Jimin’s lips close around a hardened nipple, her tongue flicking over it before she bites down
gently. Minjeong’s gasp is sharp, her fingers gripping at Jimin’s shoulders. The reaction only
drives Jimin further. She sucks, bites again, and lets her teeth graze just enough to make the
omega’s body jerk beneath her.

The noises Minjeong lets out—the soft moans, the occasional broken gasp when Jimin tugs a
little harder—make her lose her mind. Jimin wants to mark her everywhere, to cover every
inch of her chest with reminders of this moment, so that every time Minjeong stepped into a
shower or touched herself, she’d think of her.
She moans softly against Minjeong’s skin, she wants to suck on her tits until they bleed.

But then Minjeong tugs at her hair, her fingers insistent, trying to guide her lower, just like
she did last time. Inpatient. Jimin lifts her head slightly, meeting Minjeong’s gaze for just a
second before obliging, trailing her lips downward.

This time, she takes her time.

Last time was rushed, frantic, but now Jimin lets her mouth explore. She presses hot, wet
kisses along Minjeong’s lean abdomen, pausing to drag her tongue over the taut muscles
there. The omega is fucking ripped.

Jimin’s lips press against the ridges of Minjeong’s toned stomach, her fingers tracing lightly
over the defined lines. How much work has she put into this? Omegas are naturally smaller
and softer—Minjeong is no exception, her delicate frame evidence of it. But the effort
Minjeong must have put in to build this level of strength, to match her peers— to match her
—is clear in every inch of her.

Jimin hums softly, her kisses slowing, almost reverent, as she appreciates the results of
Minjeong’s hard work. But her throbbing cock demands more, and Jimin’s hands move
lower, undoing the button of Minjeong’s jeans and pulling the zipper down.

Minjeong lifts her hips slightly, just enough for Jimin to slide her jeans and panties down in
one go, the fabric brushing against her smooth skin as Jimin pulls them off. She tosses the
clothes aside, not caring where they land, her eyes fixed on the sight in front of her. Minjeong
is laid bare, her half-lidded eyes blinking up at her, cheeks flushed, and her lips slightly
parted.

“You’re beautiful,” the words escaping before she can think.

Minjeong shifts, slightly more flushed now, her thighs rubbing together, her voice coming out
in a whiny plea. “Just do something already.”
The sound melts something deep inside Jimin, and she wonders how someone can be this
sexy and impossibly cute at the same time. She chuckles softly, the hunger within her roaring
as she positions herself between Minjeong’s legs.

“Alright,” she murmurs, spreading Minjeong open. The omega’s hips buckle slightly, just
from the cool air hitting her bare core. Jimin settles into the space between her thighs, lifting
her legs onto her shoulders.

The sweet, intoxicating scent of Minjeong’s arousal hits her like a wave, and Jimin’s head
spins. She’s salivating even before her tongue drags a one long lick along Minjeong’s slick
folds and taste the peaches she's been yearning for.

Both of them let out moans, Jimin’s deep and guttural, Minjeong’s breathy and desperate.
Jimin’s thoughts run wild, she was so fucking delicious. She laps eagerly, pushing her tongue
fully into Minjeong’s entrance, chasing more of her slick.

Minjeong’s hands immediately find Jimin’s hair, gripping tight, her fingers pulling as her
body arches. Jimin groans into her, the vibrations earning another moan from Minjeong. She
doesn’t miss a drop, cleaning the wetness from her inner thighs with broad strokes of her
tongue, tasting every inch.

But she avoids where Minjeong needs her most, teasing as she licks and sucks everywhere
but her clit causing the omega’s nails to dig into the nape of Jimin’s neck, telling her to hurry
the fuck up so the alpha finally relents, latching onto Minjeong’s clit and sucking the bundle
of nerves the way she deserves. Minjeong’s reaction is immediate—she lets out a string of
sinful sounds that echo in Jimin’s ears, the kind of sounds that will live in her mind forever,
haunting her dreams and waking thoughts.

Driven by the need to please her, Jimin puts in the work, her nails digging into Minjeong’s
thighs as her tongue flicks rapidly against her clit. Minjeong’s thighs start to close around her
head, her hips grinding harder against Jimin’s mouth. Jimin knows she’s close, the omega’s
moans spilling freely now, broken and desperate.

Jimin is so caught up in Minjeong’s pleasure, she doesn’t realize she’s started humping the
mattress until she feels herself coming dangerously close to the edge. She freezes, forcing
herself to stop. Not like this. She wasn’t going to come in her pants again.
Pulling back, Jimin sits up on her knees, her chest heaving. Minjeong whines at the loss,
glaring at her, her breath ragged. “Why did you stop?” she demands, her voice shaky.

Jimin swallows hard. “I-I need to be inside you.” Her voice comes out more desperate than
she would’ve liked. “Please.”

Minjeong’s gaze flickers downward, landing on the bulge straining against Jimin’s jeans. She
swallows visibly, her eyes darkening. “Okay,” she says softly.

Jimin doesn’t waste a second, her hands flying to undo her jeans. She strips off her pants and
boxers in one hurried motion, too rushed to bother with her top. Settling between Minjeong’s
legs again, she catches the omega staring hard at her cock.

It’s flushed and hard, veins straining against the length, the head slick and shiny with precum.
Minjeong’s expression is blank, almost hypnotized, before she lets out a, “Pretty.”

That makes her pause. Pretty? That’s a first. She chuckles, feeling oddly flattered before
leaning down to kiss Minjeong again.

Her hand moves between them, and she gently pushes a finger inside the omega. Minjeong
moans into her mouth, her hips rocking instinctively. Jimin begins moving slowly, swirling
her finger, letting her adjust before adding a second finger, her movements steady. She
scissors the two fingers inside, stretching Minjeong, preparing her to take something thicker.
The way Minjeong grips her shoulders, moaning softly into the kiss, only spurs Jimin on, her
own need building by the second.

When her fingers start to easily slip in and out, Jimin decides Minjeong is ready. She pulls
her fingers free, shoving them into Minjeong’s mouth without a second thought.

Impatient, Jimin lines the tip of her cock against Minjeong’s slick entrance, ready to push in
—but a sharp pain jolts her when Minjeong bites down on her fingers hard enough to make
her yelp.
Jimin pulls her hand back, scowling. “What the fuck?”

Minjeong glares at her, wiping her mouth. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I—uh, I’m sorry,” Jimin stammers, suddenly sheepish. She hesitates for half a second before
blurting, “Can I please fuck you already?”

Minjeong rolls her eyes, a faint flush dusting her cheeks. “It’s just… I’ve never…” Her voice
trails off as she avoids Jimin’s gaze, her fingers fidgeting nervously, the confident demeanor
she had earlier is gone.

Jimin tilts her head, piecing it together. “You’ve never had a dick before?”

Minjeong huffs out a small breath, then nods, her embarrassment plain as her eyes flicker to
the side. “So don’t be a jerk, okay? Be slow.”

Jimin swallows hard, nodding quickly. “Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

The realization that she’s Minjeong’s first makes something primal roar to life inside her,
satisfying her inner alpha in ways she didn’t even know she craved. Her instincts scream at
her to claim her now, to bury herself deep and mark her forever.

But Jimin reins herself in, forcing calm into her voice. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry,” she
promises.

Even though every fiber of her being is aching to pounce, she knows this moment isn’t just
about what she wants. It’s about Minjeong. Only Minjeong.
Jimin takes a deep breath to steady herself before starting again. She gently presses the tip of
her cock inside, inch by inch. Minjeong’s jaw slackens, her lips parting as her body adjusts.
Jimin keeps her hands firm on Minjeong’s thighs, holding them open as she works her way
deeper into the omega’s delicate body.

Her eyes remain fixed on Minjeong’s face, watching every flicker of expression—the way
her brows knit together, her breath hitching with every stretch. Minjeong’s hand darts out,
gripping Jimin’s wrist tightly, her knuckles white as she winces.

“I know, baby, I know,” Jimin coos softly, her voice soothing despite the overwhelming
arousal coursing through her. “Almost there. You’re doing so good.”

It takes every ounce of her willpower to stay slow, to keep steady. Minjeong feels like
heaven, her walls gripping Jimin’s cock so perfectly it’s almost maddening. She wants to
move, to thrust hard and fast, but she forces herself to stay gentle, pushing in just a little more
until she’s fully seated.

Jimin lets out a low, satisfied groan as she bottoms out. Minjeong is so damn tight.

Her eyes drop to Minjeong’s tummy, and her breath hitches at the sight of the outline of her
cock bulging obscenely against her skin. She’s so small—so fucking small—and it turns
Jimin on more than she can stand.

She reaches out with trembling fingers, tracing the bulge gently, almost reverently, as she
gulps.

Minjeong takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she adjusts to the intrusion.
“Okay,” she whispers, exhaling deeply. “You can move.”

Jimin whimpers, a sound of pure excitement, as she starts to pull back. Her eyes widen as the
bulge disappears, only to reappear when she pushes back in. It’s mesmerizing, obscene in the
best way, and she can’t tear her gaze away from it.
“Fuck,” Jimin mutters under her breath, her hand pressing lightly on the bulge as she thrusts
again, the sensation drawing a loud, broken moan from Minjeong.

She keeps one hand on Minjeong’s tummy, pressing down occasionally, while the other grips
her thigh for support. Her thrusts pick up rhythm, each one pushing Minjeong’s small body
further into the mattress. She only grows louder when Jimin finds the sweet spot inside of
her, the omega is on the brink of losing herself in ecstasy.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jimin breathes out, her voice heavy with awe. “So perfect. Made to
take my cock.”

And that becomes her undoing, the alpha’s words hit Minjeong like a bolt, pulling cries from
her lips as her back arches off the bed. Her nails dig into Jimin’s arms, her voice breaking as
she calls out, overwhelmed by the sensations.

Jimin’s eyes stay locked on Minjeong, watching the way she loses herself in pleasure,
watching every trembling movement of her body. A low, primal growl escapes her throat
when Minjeong clenches tightly around her cock, her release hitting hard. The omega’s cries
send a rush of electricity through Jimin’s body, and she lets go of her thigh to lean down,
planting feverish kisses along Minjeong’s neck.

“Fuck,” Jimin hisses as Minjeong’s nails rake down her back, the sting igniting something
wild in her. She continues to thrust into her, riding out Minjeong’s orgasm with steady,
deliberate strokes. “That’s it, baby. You did so well.”

She slows for only a brief moment, letting Minjeong catch her breath, but the overwhelming
need to come refuses to be ignored. Jimin starts moving again, this time chasing her own
release, her thrusts growing more urgent.

Minjeong gasps sharply, her body still sensitive. Jimin buries her face against Minjeong’s
neck, breathing in her intoxicating scent as she quickens her pace. “Ji-Jimin,” the omega
whimpers.
Jimin can’t find it in herself to stop and check in on Minjeong. Her hips snap harder against
the omega, the skin slapping sound fills the room. Minjeong is just so tight, so perfect, and
Jimin really wants to come to that inviting heat.

She thrusts one last time, bottoming out with a guttural grunt as her climax hits. Her teeth
sink instinctively into Minjeong’s neck, and the omega almost screams in response, clawing
at her shoulders. The sharp sting of Minjeong’s nails digging into her skin only eggs her on
more, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through her as she fills Minjeong with pump after
pump of cum.

They stay like that for a moment, their bodies trembling and pressed together, the room filled
with the sound of their ragged breathing.

Then, Minjeong taps Jimin’s back lightly. “Get the fuck off me already.” It’s not said with
much bite, and Jimin can’t help but giggle, her laughter breathless but genuine as she shifts to
roll off the omega, sprawling out beside her.

A silence settles between them, neither having the energy to do anything but wait for their
breaths to even out.

“Soo… you good?” Jimin speaks first.

Minjeong nods, her voice light but a little hoarse. “Yeah. You?”

“I’m great,” Jimin says with a grin, and Minjeong chuckles softly, the sound making Jimin’s
smile widen.

“How mad do you think Aeri’s going to be when she finds out someone ruined her sheets?”
Jimin asks, raising a brow.

Minjeong snorts. “I don’t know, but we should probably go soon.”

“Yep.”

They lay there idly for a little longer before Minjeong shifts to sit up. As she moves to stand,
she hesitates and says, “That was, uh… nice.”

Jimin watches her, and just as Minjeong looks like she’s about to leave, Jimin reaches out,
gently pulling her back down. “Hold on.”

Minjeong blinks, looking at her questioningly.

“Can we talk for a bit?” Jimin asks, her voice quieter now.

Minjeong hesitates but eventually nods.

Jimin sits up slightly, leaning on her elbow. “I wasn’t bullshitting when I said I wanted to be
friends. I meant that. I know you probably don’t want anything to do with me, and I get it.
But I can’t just leave you alone.”

Minjeong opens her mouth, but Jimin cuts her off quickly, not letting her speak.

“Plus,” she adds hastily, “I fantasized about you long before I found out you were an omega,
okay? I just didn’t know how to deal with it. I know we aren’t doing this again, so I’m not
saying this to get my dick wet or anything. I just want to make amends for my mistakes. So…
friends?”

Minjeong doesn’t say anything at first, her brows furrowed as if she’s thinking it over. Then
she tilts her head. “Jimin,” she starts slowly, “you can’t tell me you want to be friends with
your cum still in me.”
Jimin’s face flushes instantly, her words tangling as she stammers, “I–uh–that’s not–”

Minjeong interrupts her with a laugh, shaking her head. “And,” she adds, her voice playful,
“we’re going to do this again.”

Jimin blinks, her eyes widening. “We are?” she asks, a little too eagerly.

Minjeong raises a brow, teasing. “Well, unless you don’t want to get your dick wet anymore
—”

“I—I do,” Jimin cuts in shamelessly.

Minjeong giggles at her, shaking her head fondly. “Good.” She stands, beginning to redress
with practiced ease. “I’ll go first. Wait about ten minutes, and then you can leave, okay?”

Jimin nods eagerly, her heart racing, watching as Minjeong pulls on her clothes and smooths
her hair. The omega glances back at her before leaving with a wave.

As the door clicks shut behind her, Jimin flops back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with a
grin stretching across her face. She’s way happier—and more relieved—than she ever
thought she’d be.
 you've got more poison than sugar
Chapter Summary

Thinking about it makes Minjeong giddy. Thinking about Jimin makes her giddy,
especially now, knowing the alpha probably smells like her with the hoodie she
borrowed from Minjeong’s closet. Jimin didn’t seem to care about that, either. In fact,
she seemed fine with it—maybe even smug about it—and knowing how much Jimin
loves her scent makes Minjeong’s heart flutter in a way she doesn’t want to examine too
closely.

Butterflies churn in her stomach, and she wants nothing more than to squash them.
Feelings are dangerous. Feelings for Yu Jimin of all people are downright embarrassing .

So, she shuts it down, burying the fluttering warmth deep within herself where it can’t
grow. At least, she hopes it won’t.

Chapter Notes

hiii!! i know this took long but the chapter is quite long too so i hope its okay<3 enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, and Minjeong wakes to the feeling of
something warm and wet between her legs. Her breath hitches, sweet honey and sharp
whiskey filling her senses, eyes blinking as she tries to make sense of the sensation and— oh
.

Jimin is between her thighs, mouth already working like she’s searching for something buried
deep inside, her tongue plunging in and out, eager to taste, to feel Minjeong’s slick coating
every inch of her mouth. Every lap, every flick, feels urgent, like she might die if she doesn’t
claim every last drop of Minjeong’s desire, as if satisfaction is just out of reach and she’s
desperate to pull it closer, to drown herself in it completely.
Minjeong lets out a soft gasp as Jimin does that thing with her tongue—the one that drives
her insane, and Jimin seems to know it all too well, like she’s already familiar with every
inch of her body.

She flattens her tongue, dragging it slowly from Minjeong’s entrance, over her folds, and
back down, pressing it firm and steady. It’s precise, like she’s mapping Minjeong’s pussy so
she can use it as a reference to paint it later. Then she shifts, switching from slow, deliberate
strokes to quick, teasing flicks that leave her trembling.

And just when Minjeong thinks she might get a moment of relief, Jimin nuzzles her entire
face against her soaked pussy. She rubs her nose, lips, and chin across the omega’s slick,
spreading it everywhere like she’s marking herself with Minjeong’s essence.

When she is satisfied with smearing herself with Minjeong’s scent, she gets back to tasting
her and doesn’t just lick—she devours . The warmth of her mouth, the rough edge of her chin
brushing against sensitive skin, the way her tongue laps greedily—it’s overwhelming. It’s hot
.

It’s so hot that Minjeong can’t even bring herself to care about missing her morning classes.
Fuck it. She can’t remember why they mattered right now when Jimin is between her thighs,
making her believe heaven might exist.

“Yes god,” Minjeong breathes out, hand tangles in Jimin’s hair, tugging lightly, “ fuck , right
there.”

Jimin giggles—an airy, playful sound muffled between Minjeong’s sweat-slicked thighs.

And just as Minjeong feels herself teetering on the edge, Jimin shifts again, her tongue
dipping back inside, pushing deep, like she’s trying to pull more slick from her. So Minjeong
tugs harder on Jimin’s hair. A warning.

“Ow,” Jimin whines softly, the complaint muffled against her.

Minjeong glances down, meeting Jimin’s wide, doe-eyed gaze, lips glistening and pressed
together in a pout. How is she even cute right now?

Minjeong sighs, annoyance melting. Her fingers loosen, smoothing through Jimin’s silky hair
in a quiet apology. The alpha hums, satisfied, and leans into the touch.

Then, without warning, Jimin slides two fingers inside her, curling just right, mouth going
right back to latching onto her clit.

“Fuck,” Minjeong groans, long and loud, her eyes rolling back as Jimin starts fucking her,
fingers pushing in and out with an uneven with a punishing pace—building her up faster than
she can handle.

And God , Minjeong loves that way too much. She can’t believe she has denied herself this
kind of pleasure for so long. What the hell was she thinking?

"Come for me," Jimin murmurs in a low, commanding voice, her breath warm against
Minjeong’s slick skin, fingers repeatedly hitting the sweet spot inside her.

And Minjeong comes.

Her body tenses, her thighs clamping around Jimin’s head as a wave of pleasure crashes over
her. She lets out a sharp, breathless cry, her back arching off the mattress, fingers pulling at
Jimin’s hair.

The alpha doesn’t stop, her tongue continuing to lap gently at Minjeong’s core, drawing out
every last tremor. Only when Minjeong taps her head, still trembling from the aftershocks,
does Jimin finally relent.

She trails soft, lazy kisses up Minjeong’s body—across her thighs, over her stomach, and up
to her neck, where she lingers, nipping softly at the tender skin. Minjeong sighs, melting
under the warmth of her lips, the sharp contrast of gentle affection after such intensity.
Their mouths meet in a slow kiss, Minjeong tasting herself on Jimin’s lips. But as the kiss
deepens, she feels it—Jimin’s cock, hard and throbbing, rubbing against her still-sensitive
pussy. The friction makes her hiss softly, a shiver running down her spine.

Jimin’s hand moves between them, reaching to free herself, ready to push forward and bury
herself inside.

But Minjeong stops her with a firm hand on her wrist. “Uh-uh,” she says, her voice still
breathy.

Jimin pulls back slightly, her brows furrowing, a whine already forming in her throat. “But
—”

“No,” Minjeong cuts her off, shaking her head. “You should’ve thought of that before tiring
me out before the day even started.”

Jimin’s eyes narrow slightly, hunger and frustration flickering in them. It’s as if she can’t
comprehend the idea of being denied. To Jimin, Minjeong’s body is hers to take, to use, to
claim and the idea of any refusal feels like an offense.

She hates being told no. That’s one of the new things Minjeong learned about Jimin.

Jimin’s lips find her neck again, this time with a different kind of intent. The kisses are
slower, seductive, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin, sending sparks of heat right to her
core. Her hands grip Minjeong’s waist firmly, fingers digging in like she’s trying to hold
herself back. Barely.

Minjeong’s resolve wavers slightly as Jimin frees her cock anyway, letting it rest against her
entrance, the head brushing against her slick folds. Minjeong’s breath catches, her body
instinctively arching, but she presses her palm against Jimin’s chest.
“I said no,” Minjeong repeats, her tone firm despite the way her body betrays her.

Jimin lets out a low growl, her eyes narrowing as she leans in closer, her lips brushing
Minjeong’s ear. “You want this,” she hisses, frustrated. “I can feel you.”

Her hand slides up, cupping one of Minjeong’s breasts, her thumb brushing over the perked
nipple. She gives it a teasing squeeze as her mouth trails lower, teeth grazing the omega’s
neck, leaving little nibbles along the skin.

She feels her body giving in completely—a traitorous moan slipping past her lips, her hips
twitching as if seeking more. But she tries to hold firm.

“No,” she repeats, her voice steady despite the heat rushing through her.

Jimin’s head falls to rest against Minjeong’s shoulder, she lets out a frustrated huff, her chest
heaving as she tries to rein herself in. Then, without warning, she suddenly pulls back and
stands up from the bed, leaving Minjeong feeling cold.

“ Fine, ” Jimin grumbles, her tone petulant.

She tugs her shirt off in one swift motion, the muscles of her shoulders and chest flexing
slightly as the fabric falls away. Then she kicks off her boxers completely, leaving her bare.

Minjeong’s eyes roam of their own accord, tracing the way droplets of sweat slide down
Jimin’s chest, disappearing between the curves of her breasts. The defined muscles of her
midriff ripple slightly with each movement, leading down to the faint happy trail just above
her groin. Below it, her bush is neatly trimmed but natural, framing her cock perfectly.

It stands proud and flushed, thick veins prominent along its length, precum glistening at the
tip. Minjeong’s mouth waters as she takes it all in, her mind wandering to how the sharp
scent of whiskey lingering in the air might taste against her tongue.
Even if Jimin catches Minjeong staring, she pretends to not see it. “I’m taking a shower first,
then,” she says casually, walking toward her closet to grab a towel.

Minjeong sits up, her brows furrowing. “No, I’m in a hurry,” she protests.

Jimin shrugs, turning slightly to glance back at her, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Well, you
should’ve thought of that before rejecting me.” She grabs the towel Minjeong had lent her
before, letting it dangle loosely in her hand as she adds, “Or… you can join me.”

Minjeong hesitates, her eyes flicking up to meet Jimin’s before inevitably dropping lower,
following the line of her back to her ass as she moves toward the bathroom. She knows
exactly what Jimin is doing—there’s no way the alpha didn’t plan this, stripping down here
instead of in the bathroom.

It doesn’t stop Minjeong from wanting her cock though.

With a resigned sigh, she snatches her phone from the nightstand, typing out a quick text to
Yeji, ‘ Can you sign in for me?’ before following Jimin.

-:-

The shower is steamy, water cascading over their bodies as Jimin presses Minjeong firmly
against the cold tiles. Her lips capturing Minjeong’s in a bruising kiss. One hand trails down
to grip Minjeong’s thigh, lifting her leg and pulling it against her side.

Minjeong yelps at the sudden motion, her hands darting up to grip Jimin’s shoulders for
balance. The alpha seems to pay no mind to her as the other hand is already guiding her cock,
the head nudging the omega’s slick entrance.

Just as Jimin is about to push in, Minjeong gasps, “Wait.”

Jimin growls, low and frustrated. “ What now? ”

Minjeong gently pushes at Jimin’s chest, her cheeks flushed from the steam. When Jimin
doesn’t immediately let go of her leg, Minjeong looks her in the eye and says, “It’s just… I
wanna try blowing you.”

Jimin blinks, her brows lifting slightly in surprise. “Really?”

Minjeong nods, trying to act confident, like she knows what she is going to do down there.

Jimin releases her leg immediately, stepping back just enough to give Minjeong space. She
watches intently, her lips parted as Minjeong shifts, her hands sliding down Jimin’s torso.

Minjeong kisses a path downward, licking along Jimin’s abdomen, her tongue teasing over
the lines of her abs before moving lower. Down, down, down, until her face is level with
Jimin’s cock.

Minjeong’s breath is hot against the tip, her fingers wrapping lightly around the base. Jimin’s
cock is already leaking, wet with slick precum that glistens under the steam of the shower.

“I like your cock,” Minjeong hums, her tongue darting out to taste the tip, savoring the rich
flavor of honey and whiskey, so distinctly Jimin. “It’s really pretty.”

“Uh—thanks—” Jimin chokes out, her voice shaky.

Minjeong rolls her eyes, grinning despite herself. “God, you’re actually pretty awkward.”

“Well, then don’t compliment my dick,” Jimin shoots back, her face flushed. “What the fuck
am I even supposed to say to that—”
Minjeong doesn’t let her finish. She leans in and wraps her lips around the tip, her tongue
swirling experimentally. A strangled groan escapes the alpha’s throat, her hips bucking
slightly at the sudden wet heat enveloping her. Minjeong pulls back enough to pump Jimin’s
length with her hand, her strokes slow and teasing, taking pleasure in the way Jimin’s hips
twitch for more.

Jimin’s hand finds its way to Minjeong’s head, fingers tangling in her hair as she gently
pushes down, urging the omega to take her again but Minjeong pulls off abruptly, licking her
lips as Jimin whines, a sound desperate and needy. Minjeong’s eyes flash up, locking with
Jimin’s as she pouts on purpose. “Don’t be rude.”

Jimin huffs, her hand tangling in Minjeong’s hair, but her voice comes out soft and pleading.
“Just… please?”

Minjeong hums in acknowledgment, not making her wait long. She leans back in, this time
taking Jimin deeper, her lips stretching around the girth as she slowly eases her way down.
Her tongue presses firmly against the underside, tracing every ridge and vein as she moves.

Jimin’s grip on her hair tightens with every inch Minjeong takes. Her hips roll forward
instinctively, pushing her cock deeper into Minjeong’s mouth as a low groan escapes her lips.

The burn in Minjeong’s jaw is sharp, her muscles working to adjust, but it’s worth it. She
swallows the thick length, her throat clenching instinctively and drawing a broken moan from
Jimin.

“God,” Jimin rasps, her voice thick and raw. “That’s good—you’re good—fuck, so good—”

The praise spurs Minjeong on, her confidence building. She starts to move faster, her lips
gliding smoothly along Jimin’s cock as her tongue flicks and swirls, following her instincts to
see what makes Jimin shake from pleasure. Her hands slide down to Jimin’s thighs, her
fingers brushing over the taut muscle before sneaking behind to knead the firm curve of her
ass. One hand dips lower, gently cupping Jimin’s balls, rolling them in her palm with just
enough pressure to make Jimin’s breath hitch.
The alpha’s hips stutter, her cock pushing further into Minjeong’s throat and it doesn’t go
unnoticed. Minjeong wonders how much Jimin would beg if she kept teasing her like this,
how far she’d let herself go. Obscene, wet sounds fill the air as Minjeong loosens herself,
adjusting her breathing through her nose, her lips tight around the base as her nose brushes
against her bush.

“Fuck,” Jimin groans, her voice low and ragged. Minjeong glances up through her lashes, her
eyes locking on Jimin’s face, and the sight makes her thighs clench instinctively.

Jimin’s eyelids flutter, her lips parted as a guttural moan spills out, her entire body trembling.
She looks completely wrecked, utterly lost in the pleasure coursing through her, and the sheer
vulnerability of it makes Minjeong’s stomach tighten with heat.

“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna cum,” Jimin chokes out, her hips twitching as her breath
quickens.

Minjeong doubles down, she hollows her cheeks, sucking harder, savoring her taste, making
Jimin’s knees buckle and then pulls off of her.

Jimin lets out a high, desperate whine, her hips bucking instinctively, seeking the warmth of
Minjeong’s mouth again, but the omega cruelly stops her with a firm hand pressed against her
tummy.

“God, I hate you,” Jimin spits, panting heavily, her glare half-hearted but heated.

“Sorry,” Minjeong is breathless too but she manages to laugh, clearly anything but sorry. She
wraps her fingers lazily around Jimin’s cock, stroking her length slowly as she grins up at her.
“You look cute when you’re angry.”

Jimin’s growl is low, her eyes narrowing as she leans down, her fingers tangling roughly in
Minjeong’s hair. “Well, you look cute with my dick in your mouth,” she snarls, “so get to it,
baby.”
Before Minjeong can respond, Jimin pulls her forward, shoving her cock back into her mouth
with little care for delicacy. Minjeong muffles a sound of protest, her hands flying up to grip
Jimin’s thighs, but she adjusts quickly, her throat working around the sudden intrusion.

Jimin doesn’t let up, her hips snapping forward in sharp, urgent thrusts, her cock sliding deep
into Minjeong’s throat. Her nails dig into Jimin’s thighs, her body straining to keep up, but
she doesn’t pull away.

Just as Minjeong is getting used to the relentless assault on her throat, Jimin abruptly pulls
back with a sharp tug on her hair, leaving only the swollen tip of her cock resting on
Minjeong’s tongue and she barely has time to react before Jimin jerks herself off furiously,
her free hand working in tight, desperate strokes. With a strained groan, Jimin comes, hot and
heavy, painting Minjeong’s tongue and lips white. The bittersweet taste of the alpha she has
grown to like floods her senses, it’s overwhelming and strangely addictive but everything
becomes too much.

Jimin lets out a shuddering breath, her body trembling as she gazes down at Minjeong, dazed
and utterly spent. Her grip on Minjeong’s hair loosens, her fingers relaxing as she sways
slightly.

Minjeong pulls away completely, coughing as she spits out ropes of cum, her chest heaving.
Her throat burns, her legs shaky as she stands, wobbling slightly but managing to steady
herself.

Jimin starts to speak, her voice breathless. “Holy fuck, that was insane! Thank—”

Before she can finish, Minjeong uses what little strength she has left to knee Jimin squarely
in the balls.

“ Ow— what the fuck?!” Jimin hisses, doubling over as her hands shoot down to cup herself,
her face scrunched in pain.
“Don’t ever do that again,” Minjeong snaps, glaring at her with flushed cheeks and a hoarse
voice. She swipes at her messy mouth, still catching her breath. “Now clean me up.”

Jimin groans, half in pain, half in disbelief, muttering something under her breath as she
straightens up, her hand still hovering protectively near her groin. “You’re insane, ” she
grumbles.

Minjeong crosses her arms, raising a brow. “And you’re still not moving. Chop, chop.”

-:-

Jimin does take good care of her afterward, gently massaging her scalp with shampoo, her
fingers firm but soothing as the suds worked through her hair. She brushes Minjeong’s hair
with care once they’re out of the shower, her touch uncharacteristically tender. By the time
Jimin is blow-drying her hair, the omega is practically melting under the attention, and the
kiss Jimin presses to her forehead before leaving feels more intimate than anything they’d
done before.

It feels nice.

Thinking about it makes Minjeong giddy. Thinking about Jimin makes her giddy, especially
now, knowing the alpha probably smells like her with the hoodie she borrowed from
Minjeong’s closet. Jimin didn’t seem to care about that, either. In fact, she seemed fine with it
—maybe even smug about it—and knowing how much Jimin loves her scent makes
Minjeong’s heart flutter in a way she doesn’t want to examine too closely.

Butterflies churn in her stomach, and she wants nothing more than to squash them. Feelings
are dangerous. Feelings for Yu Jimin of all people are downright embarrassing .

So, she shuts it down, burying the fluttering warmth deep within herself where it can’t grow.
At least, she hopes it won’t.
The next time Minjeong sees Jimin, a day later, is in the one class they share. She feels it
immediately—the alpha’s gaze boring into her soul. Jimin is seated two rows back, and
Minjeong doesn’t need to be a mind reader to know she’s hesitating, probably weighing her
options, debating whether or not to sit beside her.

It’s obvious why. Minjeong had warned her after their last practice to keep some distance, not
to let people see them together too often. The coach’s sharp glare after overhearing Jimin’s
offer to give her a massage post-game had said enough.

But, of course, Jimin was never good at keeping her distance.

The alpha clears her throat, the sound oddly loud in the quiet room. “Uh, Minjeong?” she
says, her voice cracking slightly.

Minjeong tilts her head just enough to glance at her from the corner of her eye. “What?”

“Umm…” Jimin stammers, clearly having no plan for what to say next. “Today’s practice is
at five, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh—nice.” Jimin nods, her ears noticeably reddening.

The sheer awkwardness of it makes Minjeong bite back a laugh. Watching Jimin struggle like
this is amusing, sure, especially after the stunt she pulled yesterday but there’s something
pitiful about how the usually confident alpha looks so out of her element. With a sigh, she
decides to throw her a bone.

“Come here,” she says, her voice commanding, tilting her head toward the empty seat next to
her. It’s the same tone she used two weeks ago at the party, the one she is sure Jimin hadn’t
forgotten.
Jimin’s eyebrows shut up and she scrambles to gather her things, nearly tripping over her
own feet in her rush to comply, she slides into the seat beside Minjeong with all the grace of
someone who has just won the lottery but doesn’t know what to do with it.

“You’re terrible at this, you know,” Minjeong mutters, her tone low enough to keep others
from overhearing.

“At what?”

“Being subtle.”

Jimin scoffs lightly. “Well, it’s because I never had to,” she says, cocky as usual. “Most
omegas would brag about being with me, not, y’know, hide me away.”

Minjeong remembers the whispers about Jimin, something about them always annoyed her.
“I can’t see why. You didn’t exactly live up to expectations.”

A grin forms on Jimin’s face. “Oh? Really?”

“Yeah.”

“And what about my services left the princess so… unsatisfied?” Jimin drawls.

“You can’t control yourself,” Minjeong replies, the corner of her lips quirking up. “You act
like an animal.”

“That’s kinda my selling point.”

“And you talk too much.”

Jimin leans in, her voice dropping a notch. “You can always shut me up.”

“I should.”

“And tie me up,” Jimin adds, her grin widening.

“You’re into that?”

“I’m into whatever ,” Jimin hums, her voice lilting as she glances at Minjeong’s lips. “And
you should ride the life out of me while you’re at it. That’d really show me.”

Minjeong can’t help the laugh that bubbles out. “Really? Can I kill you?”

Jimin hums, leaning just a little closer, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. “I told you I’m
happy with whatever you give me.”

Minjeong’s eyes flicker to Jimin’s lips for a moment too long, her thoughts skirting
dangerously close to reckless territory. Before she can act on anything stupid, the professor
walks in, cutting through the moment with a crisp greeting and the shuffle of students settling
into their seats.

It doesn’t take long for Jimin to get restless once the class starts.

First, she scribbles nonsense in the margins of Minjeong’s notebook—little doodles, random
words, and once, "Jimin was here." Minjeong rolls her eyes but doesn’t stop her, though her
grip on the pen tightens.
Then, it’s the bouncing leg. The rhythmic, incessant motion shakes their row just enough to
be noticeable, and Minjeong sends her a sharp glare.

Jimin’s antics becomes too much when her hand casually caress Minjeong’s thigh under the
desk and slides it up further. Minjeong jerks slightly, snapping her notebook shut and hissing,
“Do you have a death wish?”

Jimin just grins, leaning her chin on her hand. “Maybe.”

Minjeong kicks her firmly on the shin, and Jimin immediately retreats to her side, grumbling
under her breath.

By the time Jimin sighs for the nth time, she finally snaps, her voice low. “Why do you even
take philosophy when you clearly don't have any regards about ethics?”

Jimin shrugs, not looking even the slightest bit guilty. “It’s free credit,” she says easily. “They
say the professor asks the same questions every year.”

Minjeong stares at her, incredulous. “Shouldn’t you choose something you’re passionate
about?”

Jimin pauses, blinking at her. “Passionate?” she echoes, like the word is foreign. Then she
smirks, leaning closer again. “The only thing I’m good at is shooting a ball through a hoop,
rest don’t interest me.”

The nonchalance in her voice makes Minjeong frown, it’s hard to believe someone not being
passionate about anything but before she can say anything, Jimin adds, “It’s cool you’re into
this stuff, though. It’s hot.” Then Jimin pokes her arm with a pen. “You should go back to
paying attention now, I’ll behave.”

Minjeong narrows her eyes, debating whether to press the issue, to egg her on just to see
where it goes. But she doesn’t.
Surprisingly, Jimin stays true to her words for the rest of the lecture. The only thing Minjeong
notices is the persistent bouncing of Jimin’s leg beside her but she figures it’s something
Jimin can’t help it and lets it slide.

-:-

Minjeong reminds herself, yet again, why she shouldn’t let herself develop feelings for the
alpha.

She regrets showing up early to practice almost immediately. She’d thought it was a good
idea at first—maybe she could hang out with Jimin for a bit before practice started. She knew
Jimin and a few others liked to come early to watch the cheer squad rehearse, and she figured
if they hung out in a group, it wouldn’t seem suspicious. Casual. Safe.

But she hadn’t anticipated this.

Jimin is already on the bleachers, practically glued to one of the cheerleaders. Minjeong
freezes mid-step, her stomach twisting as her eyes lock on the scene. It’s like a punch to the
gut and she hates how much it stings.

Jimin’s arm is draped casually over the girl’s shoulder, her face close as she whispers
something that makes them both laugh. It’s not just anyone, either—it’s Miyeon. The
gorgeous senior who left Jimin uncharacteristically shy whenever she was around.

Memories of last semester flash vividly in Minjeong’s mind.

How Jimin had managed to hook up with Miyeon at the post-championship party, a feat that
sent half the team into fits of jealousy. How the infamous video of them making out had
spread across campus, Jimin’s hands roaming all over her.
And now seeing them together again makes something green and ugly claw its way up
Minjeong’s chest.

She feels so stupid. She and Jimin haven’t talked about exclusivity—they haven’t talked at
all. They basically have nothing, just stolen moments and fucking when it’s convenient for
both of them. But the jealousy gnaws at her, leaving her tense and bitter.

She doesn’t even bother saying ‘hi’ when she reaches the bleachers, instead plopping down
next to Yizhuo with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Yizhuo glances at her, one eyebrow arching in curiosity, but she says nothing at first,
probably sensing that Minjeong isn’t in the mood.

Minjeong keeps her gaze fixed stubbornly forward, refusing to look at Jimin and Miyeon
again. It’s none of her business, she reminds herself. This—whatever this is—needs to stop
before it gets worse.

Yizhuo leans in after a moment, her lips curling into a sly grin. “Let me guess…”

“Go ahead,” Minjeong mutters, refusing to look at her.

“It’s Jimin-unnie.”

“What about her?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t.”
Yizhuo hums thoughtfully. “Ellis tells me—”

“Ellis again? You two dating or what?” Minjeong cuts in, arching an eyebrow.

Yizhuo smacks the back of her head lightly. “Don’t change the subject, dickhead. Everyone
already knows that I’m getting the best pussy—”

“My God, I don’t need to hear this,” Minjeong groans, rubbing her temples.

“—and I’m not hiding that but what you keep avoiding is the fact you’re getting dick—”

“Enough.” Minjeong raises a hand as if to physically ward off the words. “Stop talking.
Forever.”

Yizhuo grins, completely unbothered. “Anyway, apparently Jimin’s been talking about you.”

“Says who?”

“Ryujin. And Ellis says you hooked up again.”

Minjeong doesn’t respond, her face carefully neutral as she stares at the court ahead. Yizhuo
smirks and jabs her in the side. “So? Did you?”

“Fuck off,” Minjeong mutters, swatting her hand away.

Yizhuo’s grin only widens. “Ellis saw Jimin leaving your room the other day,” she presses.
“So now you’re jealous, huh?” She nods toward Jimin and Miyeon, still draped over each
other on the bleachers.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Minjeong says coolly. “There’s nothing going on
between us. I never had her in my room. She was probably stealing from me.”

Yizhuo snorts.

“So why the fuck would I be jealous?” Minjeong adds sharply, her jaw tightening.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Before Minjeong can retort, the whistle blows, signaling the end of cheer practice. Minjeong
stands abruptly, brushing her shorts off before making her way to the court without sparing
Yizhuo another glance.

Minjeong strides onto the court, shoulders squared as others trickle in one by one. She’s
trying to focus—on stretching, on calming the irrational tightness in her chest—but her eyes
betray her, flicking toward Jimin the moment she catches movement from the corner of her
vision.

There she is, still on the bleachers, helping Miyeon down the steps. The girl is clearly
limping, her arm slung over Jimin’s shoulders for support, while Jimin’s arm wraps snugly
around her waist.

Minjeong stops whatever she’s doing for half a second, her gaze zeroing in on the way
Miyeon leans into Jimin, the similarity of it all makes her stomach twist.

They stop near the court, Miyeon murmuring something as she gestures toward her ankle.
Jimin nods, her fingers brushing against Miyeon’s hip lightly before stepping back to let her
go. Just as Miyeon joins the other cheerleaders, she turns back, giving Jimin’s bicep a firm
squeeze with a bright smile.
Minjeong looks away quickly when Jimin turns around, focusing intently on retying her
already perfectly secure shoelaces.

“Hey,” Jimin says as she approaches, her tone casual.

“Hi,” Minjeong replies curtly, still not meeting her gaze.

Jimin studies her for a moment, her eyes sweeping over Minjeong’s face before she speaks
again. “You’re in a bad mood.” It’s not a question.

“I’m fine,” Minjeong says sharply, standing up straight.

Jimin tilts her head slightly, her tone softening. “She fell when they were forming a pyramid,
so I was just helping her out.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Minjeong mutters, crossing her arms.

“And I know you hate the rumors about us,” Jimin continues, ignoring the sharpness in
Minjeong’s voice. “So that’s why I—”

“Jimin, I don’t care,” Minjeong cuts in, her tone clipped. “Who you’re flirting with for
whatever reason is none of my business.”

Jimin blinks, her brows knitting together. “Then why are you mad?”

“I’m not!” Minjeong snaps, her voice rising louder than she intended.

The outburst draws a few curious glances, Ryujin’s included. Minjeong catches the smug
expression on her teammate’s face, and Yizhuo’s earlier words about Jimin running her
mouth flare up in her mind. She opens her mouth, ready to demand an explanation but the
whistle blows again and Minjeong walks away from Jimin’s side before the coach notices
them.

Minjeong heads straight for Aeri, who’s already stretching by the sidelines, but her gaze has
been fixed on the omega for a while now.

“You good?” Aeri asks, tossing Minjeong a sidelong glance as they get in line for full-court
sprints.

“Fine,” Minjeong mutters, tightening her ponytail and stepping up as the whistle blows.

The moments pass in a blur of running, the rhythmic pounding of sneakers against hardwood
filling the air. Minjeong throws herself into the sprints, ignoring the ache in her legs and the
occasional glance she feels burning into her from behind.

When they transition into drills, Minjeong barely has time to catch her breath before Jimin, of
course, ends up at her side.

“Need a partner?” Jimin asks, grinning as she spins a ball on her fingertip.

“I don’t need anything from you,” Minjeong snaps, looking around for Aeri.

“Cool. I’m here anyway,” Jimin replies, stepping closer to make sure she doesn’t walk away.

They move to their designated spot on the court, Minjeong keeping her gaze averted as the
coach blows the whistle to start.

“Ready?” Jimin asks, tossing the ball lightly in her hands.

“Just pass,” Minjeong mutters, keeping her focus straight ahead.

Jimin smirks and sends a clean chest pass to Minjeong, then quickly steps forward, closing
out on her with a defensive stance. Minjeong wastes no time, taking her shot. The ball hits
the back of the rim and bounces off.

Minjeong rushes forward, grabbing the ball and fires a pass back to Jimin, who’s now at the
three-point line.

Jimin catches it easily, setting her feet and squaring up. Minjeong steps forward to close-out,
her stance wide and balanced, but Jimin’s form is perfect, her release smooth as the ball arcs
high and drops neatly through the net.

“Nice shot,” Minjeong grumbles as they shuffle to the next spot.

Jimin’s grin widens. “I know.”

The drill continues as they move around the circle. At the next position, Jimin passes to
Minjeong, who catches it in a triple-threat stance. Jimin closes out, towering over her, and
Minjeong hesitates for a fraction of a second. She jabs her foot to the side before stepping
right, taking one dribble and pulling up for a jumper.

The ball clanks off the rim again.

“You’re doing amazing,” Jimin teases.

“Shut up,” Minjeong hisses, her face flushed as she keeps her eyes on the ball, refusing to
meet Jimin’s gaze.
Jimin steps in to grab the rebound, still grinning. “Don’t be mad. You’re just giving me more
chances to show off.”

Minjeong sighs. “Just pass it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jimin says, throwing a mock salute before passing the ball again.

This time, Minjeong catches it with more determination. She fakes a shot, causing Jimin to
bite on the movement just enough for Minjeong to cross over to her left, take a single dribble,
and sink a clean jump shot.

“About time,” Jimin quips, shaking her head as she retrieves the ball.

By the time break rolls around, Minjeong’s tension hasn’t eased in the slightest. She’s bent
over by the bench, catching her breath and wiping sweat off her forehead when she feels
hands on her shoulders.

“You’re so tense,” Jimin murmurs, her thumbs kneading into the stiff muscles.

Minjeong stiffens immediately, whipping her head around to glare at her. “The fuck are you
doing?” she whispers harshly.

Jimin shrugs, her hands moving up to the base of Minjeong’s neck. “Helping you relax. You
need to get your head in the game.”

Minjeong can’t help but lean into her touch slightly, but the whistle blowing startles her,
making her jump.

“Yu! Five suicides. Now!”

Jimin sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes as she steps back. “Right, right.” She jogs off
toward the baseline, throwing Minjeong a quick wink over her shoulder before starting her
punishment sprints.

Minjeong pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to ignore the amused snickers from her
teammates.

The second half of practice ramps up, with the coach running them through scenarios to
prepare for the upcoming season. Strategies are rehearsed, defensive setups are refined, and
Minjeong finds herself locked in the zone. She doesn’t have time to think about Jimin—or
Miyeon, or the sting of jealousy still lodged in her chest.

But every time she catches Jimin’s figure in her peripheral vision, she feels the tension
creeping back in, as if the alpha is a storm cloud hovering just out of reach.

By the end of practice, Minjeong is spent, her muscles aching and her mind even more so.
Jimin, meanwhile, is laughing with Ryujin and Yizhuo near the water cooler, completely
unbothered.

Minjeong turns away, her jaw tight as she heads toward the locker room. Whatever Jimin’s
game is, she’s not playing it. At least, that’s what she tells herself.

She’s almost through the hallway when she hears hurried footsteps behind her and the alpha
catches up to her.

“Wait for me after the showers. I need to talk to you about something,” Jimin says in a low
voice.

Minjeong doesn’t break her stride, but her brow furrows. “Why can’t you tell me now?”

Jimin glances over to where a few other players are lingering by the door, giving Minjeong a
brief nod in their direction and Minjeong has a half-idea of what their talk is going to be
about. She knows she needs to stop whatever is going on between them, knowing how much
it affects her but it’s not like they can talk about that here either. “Alright, why don’t we talk
after dinner?”

“Your place?” Jimin whispers.

Minjeong nods, and Jimin responds with a quiet, “Cool.”

-:-

They were supposed to be talking. Minjeong knows that. She really, really does. She even
yanked Jimin’s hands away the first time they tried to sneak around her waist, but the whine
Jimin let out was so cute and—

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Jimin groans, her voice trembling as her hands grip Minjeong’s waist.
Her nails press into the soft flesh as she guides Minjeong slowly down onto her length.
Minjeong hisses through clenched teeth, her thighs shaking as she takes her in deeper, inch
by inch.

The stretch is intense, making her body clench instinctively, but the burn only fuels her. She
tilts her head back, her mouth falling open in a soft moan. Jimin’s hands slide down to her
hips, holding her steady as Minjeong rocks against her.

“Shit, Jimin,” Minjeong gasps, her voice breaking as she lowers herself fully onto Jimin’s
length. She pauses for a moment, her thighs trembling, her breath coming in shallow gasps as
she adjusts to the deep stretch. Her fingers curl against Jimin’s chest, nails scraping faintly
over her skin, before she lifts herself slowly, feeling every inch of Jimin leaving her, only to
sink herself back down in one smooth motion.

Jimin’s breath is ragged, her head tilting back to rest against the pillow as she watches
Minjeong ride her. Her lips part, but the only thing that escapes is a desperate, choked moan.
One of her hands loosens from Minjeong’s hip and drifts upward, her palm flattening against
the taut skin of Minjeong’s belly.

Her fingers press lightly, just enough to feel the faint bulge where their bodies meet. “Oh
god,” Jimin breathes, her eyes dark and unfocused. Her thumb sweeps across Minjeong’s
skin, almost awestruck, before pressing down harder as if to convince herself it’s real.

The sensation sends a shiver through Minjeong just like the last time. She loves being wanted
like this, her body trembling with the strain of holding herself together. But she refuses to
give Jimin the satisfaction of control. She snatches Jimin’s wrist, pulling it away from her
belly and pinning it down by her side. Minjeong leans in close, her lips grazing Jimin’s ear as
she whispers, low and commanding, “Is the god making you feel like this? Or me?”

“You,” Jimin whimpers, her entire body tensing beneath Minjeong’s. Her free hand scrambles
at Minjeong’s hip before sliding lower, her fingers gripping the curve of her ass desperately,
kneading as if trying to ground herself.

“Then say my name,” Minjeong orders, her voice a growl now.

Jimin’s head turns slightly, her lips brushing against Minjeong’s collarbone as she gasps.
“Minjeong,” she chokes out, the sound guttural and wrecked. “Minjeong, fuck, Minjeong—”

Minjeong’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk. She rewards Jimin by rolling her hips just right,
angling herself to take her deeper, and Jimin’s head tips back, her eyes squeezing shut. Her
mouth falls open, the only sounds escaping her a series of broken moans and sharp inhales.

“Good girl,” Minjeong purrs, her voice sweet and mocking, even as her body trembles.

Jimin groans deeply, her hips bucking upward in desperation, trying to match Minjeong’s
rhythm. Each thrust is sharper, more frantic, and when she angles just right, she hits that
sweet spot inside the omega that makes her cry out. The sudden jolt makes Minjeong lose her
balance, her body pitching forward as her hand tightening her grip around Jimin’s wrist
instinctively to steady herself.
“Fuck—wait, Jimin,” Minjeong gasps, her voice cracking as Jimin’s movements grow wilder.
She frees her wrist from Minjeong’s grasp and the hands grip her hips tightly, bruising, trying
to pull her down harder, faster. Jimin growls, her muscles tensing as she tries to roll them
over, her strength clear in the way she lifts the omega up almost effortlessly.

But Minjeong won’t have it.

“No,” she bites out, her voice firm as she forces Jimin back down with a hand on her
shoulder. Jimin’s eyes flutter open, wide and glazed, and the sight of her, flushed and
desperate, sends a thrill through Minjeong.

Her other hand slides up Jimin’s jaw, her thumb pressing between Jimin’s parted lips. “Stay,”
she commands softly.

Jimin obeys without hesitation, her lips closing around Minjeong’s thumb. She sucks lightly,
her tongue brushing over the pad of it, her gaze locked on Minjeong’s face, utterly wrecked
and pliant. The sight makes her want to ride the alpha until the only thing she can remember
is her name.

Her body moves instinctively, her pace quickening as she lifts herself and sinks back down,
taking Jimin’s cock deeper each time. The drag has her toes curling, her nails scraping against
Jimin’s sweat-slick chest.

“Look at you,” Minjeong murmurs, her voice low and teasing, her thumb pressing down
lightly on Jimin’s tongue. “So obedient, Jimin. Do you like this?”

Jimin hums around her thumb, a muffled sound that’s half a moan and half a plea. Her gaze
stays locked on Minjeong, her pupils blown wide, her lips soft and wet around the digit. She
doesn’t answer with words—she doesn’t have to. Her body speaks for her, her hips bucking
upward with desperate thrusts, trying to reach her release.
“Shit—” Minjeong chokes out, her rhythm faltering slightly as Jimin’s thrusts hit that spot
inside her again, deep and unrelenting. Her thighs tremble, her head tipping back, but she
doesn’t give up control. She presses her thumb down harder on Jimin’s tongue, silencing the
alpha’s broken sounds.

“You’re so desperate,” Minjeong breathes, leaning closer until her lips are just above Jimin’s.
“Can’t even keep still, can you?”

Jimin whines, the sound muffled by Minjeong’s thumb. Her thrusts grow erratic, and
Minjeong knows she’s close. She grinds down harder, taking Jimin as deep as she can, her
walls fluttering around her cock.

That’s all it takes.

Jimin’s hips stutter, her body jerking as a strangled moan escapes her throat. She chokes out
Minjeong’s name, a sound so guttural and broken, as her climax crashes over her.

Minjeong gasps sharply, her thighs quaking as she feels Jimin spilling inside her. She circles
her hips lazily, milking every last pulse, her own pleasure drawn out by the intensity of
Jimin’s release. A low, contented hum escapes her lips as she watches the alpha beneath her
fall apart.

Her chest is still heaving as she finally pulls her thumb from Jimin’s mouth. A thin string of
saliva clings to it, and she wipes it absentmindedly on Jimin’s shoulder. She can feel her cock
softening inside her, the heat and fullness fading just slightly, and she starts to lift herself up,
ready to dismount.

But Jimin’s hands fly to her hips, holding her firmly in place.

“Don’t,” Jimin murmurs, her voice hoarse and trembling. Her half-lidded eyes flutter open,
locking on the space between their bodies. Minjeong follows her gaze and feels her cheeks
flush at the sight—Jimin’s release leaking out of her, creamy and thick, dripping down her
inner thighs.
Jimin bites her lip, her hands sliding up to Minjeong’s waist to stop her from moving any
further. “Stay,” she whispers, her tone low and rough, her thumbs brushing lazy circles into
Minjeong’s skin.

Minjeong hesitates, her thighs still trembling from exertion, but something about the way
Jimin looks at her—awed and completely undone— makes her settle back down into Jimin’s
lap, her body relaxing as she buries her face in the crook of Jimin’s neck.

Jimin exhales shakily, one hand trailing up Minjeong’s side, her fingertips brushing against
her ribs. “You look so good like this,” she murmurs, her voice quieter now. “Completely
ruined.”

Minjeong huffs softly against her neck before shifting slightly, lifting herself just enough to
level with Jimin’s gaze. “Ruined?” she repeats, her brow arching. “Are you talking about
yourself?”

“Sure,” Jimin says, cradling Minjeong’s face gently in her hands. Her thumb brushes over the
flushed skin of Minjeong’s cheek. “I look good too.” She leans in, pressing a tender kiss to
Minjeong’s lips.

“You look adorable,” Minjeong hums against her lips.

Jimin pulls back slightly, pouting. “Don’t you mean sexy?”

“Nope,” Minjeong says smugly, bopping Jimin’s nose with her finger.

Jimin groans in exaggerated frustration, but the playful smile never leaves her face. Minjeong
settles into the warmth of their moment, their lips brushing lazily, neither wants to pull away.

“Weren’t we supposed to be talking about something?” Minjeong mumbles between kisses.

“Right.” Jimin clears her throat, her grip on Minjeong’s waist shifting as she adjusts to sit up
straighter, taking Minjeong with her. “My rut’s coming in a week.” Her fingers trace slow,
soothing patterns along Minjeong’s spine. “And, um… I can get pretty rough, y’know? Act
like an animal or whatever.”

“So your usual self,” Minjeong teases.

Jimin rolls her eyes but continues. “I know you don’t like that kind of stuff, so you don’t have
to feel… you know, obliged to help me through it. I can handle it.”

“Right,” Minjeong says, her tone flat, though there’s a flicker of something unreadable in her
eyes.

“But—” Jimin adds quickly, “if I disappear for a couple of days, don’t be surprised, okay?”

Minjeong tilts her head. “So… you don’t want me to help you through your rut?”

Jimin hesitates, looking suddenly shy as she scratches the back of her neck. “Well, I’d love
for you to, but I thought… maybe you couldn’t handle it?”

“So you asked Miyeon instead?” Minjeong shoots back.

Jimin blinks. “Huh?”

“Whatever,” Minjeong mutters, starting to lift herself off Jimin’s lap.

“Wait, hold on,” Jimin says quickly, tightening her hold to stop her. “What does Miyeon have
to do with anything? I told you I was helping with her sprained ankle.”
“Oh, so being all over her while she sat down was just emotional support, I assume?”
Minjeong bites, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Jimin sighs, one hand coming up to cradle Minjeong’s face again, an infuriatingly amused
smile tugging at her lips. “I wanted the team to see it, so they wouldn’t suspect anything
between us.”

Minjeong scoffs. “Yeah, I’m sure they don’t, not after the shit you pulled at practice.” She
starts to pull away again, but Jimin catches her wrist, halting her movements.

“Because you were jealous,” Jimin says softly, her voice teasing but laced with something
deeper. “I just wanted to reassure you.”

“I wasn’t,” Minjeong snaps, yanking her wrist free before standing up abruptly.

Jimin doesn’t argue, but her voice follows her as she makes her way toward her robe. “You
always forget I can feel you, bae.”

Minjeong rolls her eyes, she doesn’t want to think about the implications of why Jimin knows
how to read her so well. She grabs her robe, slips it on and ties it tightly around her waist,
turning to face Jimin with narrowed eyes. “And what about the stuff you said to Ryujin?”

Jimin sits up straighter, her expression shifting from smug to guarded. “Who told you that?”

“Yizhuo.”

Jimin groans, rubbing a hand over her face before sighing deeply. “It was nothing. Really.
She knew something was up, and I just… needed someone to rant to.”
Minjeong pinches the bridge of her nose, already feeling the headache coming. “Jimin, I
think you forget what’s at stake here.”

Jimin gets up and walks over to her, gently pulling her hands away from her face. “Well,
Coach can’t kick me out. He needs me.”

“What about me?”

Jimin shrugs lightly, stepping closer. “He won’t do anything to you. You’re his soft spot.
Plus, anything and everything is my fault, according to him. No one’s gonna say shit as long
as we’re good at what we do.”

Minjeong glares up at her. “Then you have to stop messing with me during practices.”

“Okay,” Jimin says easily.

“I mean it,” Minjeong insists, jabbing a finger into Jimin’s chest.

“Okay, okay,” Jimin laughs, holding her hands up in surrender, that amused grin spreads
across her face again.

-:-

Minjeong is more excited than she thought she would be.

It started with something so simple—when Jimin asked for a couple of her belongings,
anything that smelled like Minjeong’s natural peaches-and-cream scent rather than the
cloying perfume she always wore to hide it. “To get me through the rut,” Jimin had
explained, her tone casual but her ears slightly red.
But the words had left Minjeong’s mouth before she could even think about it: “Just use me
instead.”

She hadn’t really expected a reaction, but Jimin had choked on absolutely nothing, coughing
and spluttering like the idea of them fucking was something foreign and not something they
often do. The blush that bloomed across the alpha’s face was adorable.

Not that Jimin could hide anything even if she wanted to. The side effects of her rut were
already creeping up on her, clear as day. Minjeong had noticed how Jimin’s scent turned
heavier, how her pupils blew wide as her gaze dipped down to Minjeong’s neck, how her
sweats did little to conceal the way she was already hardening, clearly fantasizing about the
upcoming days.

In return, Jimin didn’t say much after recovering. She just pressed a small packet of pills into
Minjeong’s hand with a firm look, using the captain voice of hers as she explained, “Take
these. You can’t miss a day. We’re not risking you getting pregnant.”

Minjeong had rolled her eyes but pocketed them all the same. She wasn’t stupid. Neither of
them wanted to deal with the consequences of Jimin having to knot her to make sure her rut
didn’t drag on for an entire miserable week.

Now, though—now Minjeong sits on her bed, pill packet half-forgotten on her nightstand,
and thinks about it.

It’s funny, she muses. She’s never been with an alpha before Jimin—hadn’t ever let herself
get close enough to risk it. She’d only been with her ex who was a beta back in highschool,
they shared nothing more than clumsy kisses and shy touches. Then college happened, and
Minjeong swore off romance entirely to protect her secret. No one could ever know what she
really was.

But now, here she is, giddy and a little lightheaded at the thought of taking Jimin’s knot.
Her cheeks burn as she considers it—how Jimin will be during her rut, the low growl of her
voice, the weight of her hands, the way she’ll be desperate, needing Minjeong. Her mouth
waters at the thought alone. She’s been thinking about Jimin far too often lately, and her inner
omega takes control of her mind more than she wanted.

By the end of the day, Minjeong’s panties are ruined more often than not, soaked through
with nothing but the thought of Jimin. It’s ridiculous how quickly she gets wet now, how
easily she leaks before she’s anywhere close to coming. It’s become a nuisance, really—one
that makes her curse under her breath when she has to change clothes multiple times in a day.

But she doesn’t mind. Not really.

Because Jimin is always eager to clean her up.

Minjeong swallows hard at the memory of Jimin’s tongue, the way the alpha’s mouth moves
against her like she’s starved, like it’s all she wants in the world. Nothing makes Minjeong
feel more desired, more hers than the look in Jimin’s eyes when she has Minjeong spread out
beneath her.

Minjeong never lets her know that, of course. The last thing she needs is for Jimin’s already
insufferable ego to grow any bigger than it is but deep down, she loves it. She loves the way
Jimin wants her, craves her. There’s no hiding the way her heart beats faster whenever
Jimin’s hands are on her or the way she melts when Jimin murmurs her name like it’s the
only thing that matters.

And in just a few days, Jimin will need her more than ever.

The thought makes Minjeong’s breath hitch.

She presses her thighs together, biting her lip, trying to shake the heat crawling up her spine.
But it doesn’t help. Because all she can think about is Jimin, rough and desperate, the way
she’ll hold her down, the way she’ll fill her—
Minjeong groans, flopping back against her pillows and covering her face with her hands.

She’s so screwed.

-:-

Minjeong stalls in front of the hotel room door, her nerves twisting into tight knots in her
stomach. She takes a deep breath, staring at the metal number plate as though it might give
her some clarity. Three whole days. Three days trapped in a room with Jimin, during her rut.

It was more convenient this way, Jimin had said. No one would bother them, and Minjeong
wouldn’t have to worry about hiding her scent every time she did something simple like
eating or grabbing a coffee. Minjeong found the sentiment so endearing that she wanted to
sink to her knees and suck Jimin off right there in the middle of the conversation. Instead, she
nodded, biting her lip, and made a half-assed excuse to her friends about visiting her brother
in the military to explain her three-day disappearance.

Maybe she was becoming easy.

After all, she’d gone so far as to dress up, wearing a skirt for the first time in almost a year—
in the biting cold, no less. What was she trying to prove? Now, standing here, her hands
gripping the strap of her overnight bag, she suddenly felt self-conscious in her own skin.

Her fingers hovered over the door, hesitating to knock. She’s on the verge of turning back
when, suddenly, the door swings open.

Jimin stands there, her hair already damp with sweat, her eyes sharp and feral, clothed only
with a white tee and boxers. Before Minjeong can speak, Jimin’s hand shoots out, grabbing
her by the collar of her coat and pulling her inside with surprising force.
“Finally,” Jimin mutters, her voice rough as gravel, pushing her up against the nearest wall,
pinning her there with her body. The air leaves Minjeong’s lungs in a soft gasp just as Jimin’s
mouth crashes onto hers, claiming her with a bruising kiss.

The room feels suffocatingly hot, Jimin’s pheromones hanging in the air like a thick fog,
overpowering every other thought in Minjeong’s head. Jimin’s scent is always strong—
whether on the court or in bed, she leaves her mark on anywhere she’s in—but this? This is
on another level. It clings to Minjeong’s skin, fills her lungs, clouds her mind until all she can
feel, taste, and smell is Jimin.

Minjeong tries to push her a bit to get breathing room but Jimin doesn’t relent, her hands
working quickly to peel off Minjeong’s coat.

Only when the chill hits her from the open door does Minjeong gather enough strength to get
Jimin’s attention. She grabs a fistful of Jimin’s damp hair and tugs sharply, breaking the kiss.

“The door,” Minjeong says breathlessly, nodding toward it.

Jimin stills for a moment, her eyes flicking to the open door as though it personally offended
her. With a huff, she pulls away just long enough to slam it shut with enough force to rattle
the frame.

Then she’s back on Minjeong in an instant, she hikes Minjeong’s leg up as she presses her
against the wall again, her cock is hard against her clothed pussy.

The alpha’s hands move restlessly over her. One tugging at the hem of her sweater, pushing it
up to expose more of her bare skin. Her palm brushes against Minjeong’s ribs, her touch
leaving a trail of fire. The other hand slides up from her thigh, fingers curling around the
curve of her ass beneath her skirt.

Minjeong gasps softly, her knees trembling as Jimin’s mouth moves down to her collarbone,
leaving a trail of kisses and nips that send heat pooling low in her belly. Her breath catches
when Jimin presses her against the wall harder, her fingers squeezing the soft flesh of her ass,
pulling her closer, hungrier.
“What took you so long?” Jimin mutters, her voice low and rough as she goes up again and
bites down lightly on the sensitive skin just below Minjeong’s ear.

“I—” Minjeong starts, but her words dissolve into a soft moan as Jimin’s teeth scrape her
skin, leaving a faint red mark. “I wanted to look good for you.”

Jimin halts her movements, still panting against her neck. Slowly, she pulls back, her hands
still resting on Minjeong’s hips as her eyes flick downward. It’s like the words just registered,
and Jimin looks at her for the first time.

Her gaze travels over Minjeong’s outfit, lingering on the soft sweater slightly askew from
Jimin’s rough hands leading to her skirt riding up enough to tease the tops of her tights. Her
fingers trace the hem of it, slipping beneath to graze the soft skin underneath.

“Fuck,” Jimin breathes, her voice low and filled with awe. She meets Minjeong’s gaze again.
“You look amazing.”

“It’s nothing special,” Minjeong has the nerve to say, glancing to the side.

“It is,” Jimin counters immediately, her hands tightening her hold. “You are.”

Jimin’s hand slips under her tights, the cool stretch of fabric giving way to the heat of her
touch. Her fingers find bare skin, kneading Minjeong’s ass more firmly, sending a jolt of need
straight through her. Minjeong’s head tips back, her lips parting as she struggles to catch her
breath.

The hand dips down even lower, finding her slick entrance there and the tip of her fingers
teases her hole.

Minjeong gasps, her knees nearly buckling as her body clenches instinctively. “Jimin—”.
Jimin hums low in her throat, a teasing sound that vibrates against Minjeong’s skin. “So wet
already,” she murmurs, her lips grazing the shell of Minjeong’s ear. “Aching for alpha’s
cock.”

Minjeong doesn’t get a chance to talk back. Jimin pulls her hand away again, leaving her
trembling and off-balance, only to shift lower and grab the backs of Minjeong’s thighs. For a
second, Minjeong thinks she’s about to be lifted, but instead, Jimin lays her down to the floor
more gently than she expected and settles between her legs.

Minjeong blinks. “On the floor?”

Jimin smirks, her dark eyes gleaming. “Why not?”

Minjeong glances at the plain carpet beneath them, her lips twitching. “That’s… nasty.”

Jimin chuckles, dry and low in her throat. “Yeah, it is. It’s nasty as fuck.”

A giggle escapes her lips as a response. “Oh, you’re into that, don’t you? Dirty mutt,” she
teases.

Jimin’s smirk widens as she shakes her head. “You’re really asking for it.”

Before Minjeong can reply, Jimin grips her waist and flips her over with ease. Head down,
ass up, carpet scratches against her knees. The alpha’s body covers her from behind, one hand
sliding up her back to tangle in her hair. Jimin gives a sharp tug, pulling her head back until
her back arches.

“You talk too fucking much,” Jimin mutters against her ear, voice dripping with hunger.
Minjeong’s breath catches, her lips parting as the words sink in. Her skirt rides up, and she
feels the cool air against her skin as her tights and panties are pulled down in one fluid
motion. Her legs being pulled further apart then she feels it—the heavy, hot press of Jimin’s
cock slipping between the cheeks of her ass. Her thighs tremble, her fingers digging into the
carpet as Jimin grips her hip with her free hand, holding her steady.

“You said you could handle it, Minjeong.” Jimin’s voice is a growl. “I’m giving you a chance
to back out now.”

Minjeong’s voice is barely a whisper, shaky but firm. “No.”

Jimin lines her fat tip with Minjeong’s leaking hole. “No?” she repeats.

Minjeong turns her head slightly, glancing back over her shoulder. “Use me how you like.”

Something primal flashes in Jimin’s eyes, and without hesitation, she thrusts forward,
burying herself inside completely.

Minjeong cries out, her body arching as the sudden stretch burns through her. Her nails
scrape against the carpet, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The pain is sharp—it
feels like she’s being split in half but the plea for Jimin to take it slow dies in her throat.

She can and will take whatever Jimin gives her.

Jimin doesn’t move right away, thankfully. It seems like she still has some sense left, her grip
on Minjeong’s hips firm as she holds her in place, her cock pulsing deep inside. “S’tight,”
Jimin murmurs, her voice strained, like she’s barely holding back. “You good?”

Minjeong exhales, her breath shaky and uneven, chest rising and falling as she tries to adjust.
Her thighs tremble like they might give out at any second, but she still presses back, just
barely; earning a quiet, guttural chuckle from Jimin.
“Good, good,” Jimin hums, her tone dripping with approval as she pulls back, leaving
Minjeong feeling suddenly empty, only to snap her hips forward again.

Minjeong gasps, the force knocking her forward, hands scrambling against the carpet for
balance. The rhythm starts slow and steady but Jimin doesn’t have the patience to keep it that
way. Her movements grow faster, sharper, each thrust deeper than the last, pushing Minjeong
right up to her limit and then some.

The wet, obscene sound of their bodies meeting fills the room, mixing with the omega’s
breathless moans and the alpha’s guttural grunts. Minjeong’s knees buckle slightly, her hips
moving instinctively, trying to meet Jimin halfway as the alpha keeps on hitting the sweet
spot inside her. She’s not in control, though—Jimin’s hands, strong and possessive, dig into
her skin like she’s afraid to let go.

One hand slides down Minjeong’s trembling stomach, spreading out over her soft belly.
Jimin’s fingers press against the slight bulge there as usual, her breath hitches like the first
time. Will this ever get old for the alpha? She wonders.

“Feel that?” Jimin rasps, low and rough. “You’re so fucking small. I’m so deep inside you,
baby.”

Minjeong’s head spins, her mind hazy with heat and overstimulation. “Jimin—oh my god—
it’s too much,” she whimpers, her voice cracking as her body jolts with every thrust.

Jimin growls, the sound raw and almost animalistic, her teeth grazing Minjeong’s shoulder.
“You can take it,” she grits out, her pace becoming frantic, desperate. “You’re made for this
—made for me.”

The coil of pleasure deep in Minjeong’s core tightens painfully, winding tighter and tighter
until it finally snaps. Her cry fills the room, her body locking up as her walls clamp down
around Jimin, dragging her over the edge. Her vision goes blurry, and her arms give out
beneath her, but Jimin doesn’t let her collapse.
“There you go,” Jimin grunts, following her down, keeping her pinned and secure but her
thrusts don't relent. “That’s my girl.”

Minjeong trembles violently, her body pulsing with aftershocks, every nerve alight. Jimin
stays buried inside her, her breath hot and ragged against Minjeong’s neck.

She nuzzles into Minjeong’s damp skin, her lips brushing over the curve of her shoulder.
“You smell so fucking good,” she whispers, voice hoarse. “Wanna keep you like this forever.
Wanna make you mine. Fill you up, get you pregnant. God, I’d ruin you.”

Minjeong doesn’t believe her—not entirely. But the words don’t stop her body from
responding, her cunt clenching so tight around Jimin’s cock that it pulls a guttural moan from
the alpha. Jimin shudders, burying herself deep as her release surges forward. She sinks her
teeth into Minjeong’s shoulder, a possessive bite as her hips move in erratic, animalistic
thrusts, chasing every last drop of her high.

Minjeong is trembling beneath her, gasping and moaning, her nails scraping uselessly at the
carpet for any kind of grounding. Jimin’s grip on her hips is bruising, keeping her in place as
her instincts drive her to pump her cum deeper, making sure Minjeong takes all of it. Her
balls flex with the effort, and Minjeong swears she can feel every ounce of her release filling
her.

For a fleeting moment, Minjeong feels it—like she belongs to Jimin. Completely.

But as the haze begins to clear and she starts to come back down, a stray thought pierces the
fog. She might be way over her head. She’s disoriented, unsure of where she even is, her
forehead pressed against the scratchy carpet.

She expects relief, the softening of Jimin’s cock signaling the end, but it never comes.
Instead, Jimin is still buried inside her, the only sound in the room is her heavy, uneven
breathing. Then, without warning, the alpha starts moving again, her thrusts steady, like she’s
starting all over.
Minjeong gasps, her body jolting as overstimulation sets in. “Jimin, please—” she manages,
her voice breaking. Her words dissolve into a desperate whimper as her body fights to keep
up with the relentless rhythm building.

Jimin doesn’t stop—not until Minjeong is writhing, begging through choked sobs, “At least
take me to bed!”

The alpha eventually listens. After taking her for the second time.

-:-

Minjeong drifts in and out of consciousness, lost in a haze where the only constant is Jimin—
her scent, her heat, her relentless dominance. The world outside ceases to exist. She forgets
where she is, who she is. All that remains is Jimin. She can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even
move without Jimin guiding her. Every nerve in her body is ablaze, teetering between
exhaustion and arousal, yet she doesn’t want it to stop.

Jimin has her on her knees, her cock buried deep in Minjeong’s throat. The alpha’s guttural
moans fill the room, low and feral. “Take it all,” Jimin growls, her fingers tightening in
Minjeong’s hair as she thrusts carelessly. Minjeong gags around her length, her hands
clawing weakly at Jimin’s thighs. Her vision blurs with tears, her mind foggy, but she keeps
going, her body moving on autopilot.

She barely notices the shift until she’s on her back, Jimin folding her in half, her legs pressed
to her chest as the alpha pounds into her with a punishing rhythm. Minjeong screams, the
pleasure blinding, her nails digging crescent-shaped marks into Jimin’s arms. Her cries are
raw, breaking into desperate sobs when the intensity becomes too much. But Jimin doesn’t let
up. Before Minjeong can catch her breath, she’s flipped onto all fours, Jimin’s firm grip
anchoring her hips as she drives into her from behind.

Jimin never stops. Ever. When Minjeong thinks she can’t take any more, she finds herself
straddling Jimin, her trembling thighs barely holding her up. Jimin’s hands guide her hips,
forcing her to ride. “That’s it, baby,” Jimin purrs, her lips grazing Minjeong’s neck as her
cock stretches her over and over again. “Show me how much you love being mine.”
The next thing Minjeong remembers is Jimin’s mouth on her, her knees buckling as the alpha
devours her. The pressure builds until she shatters, her vision white-hot with pleasure.

Somewhere along the way, Minjeong passes out, only to wake to the slow, deliberate thrust of
Jimin’s cock sliding into her from the side. Jimin’s pace is torturously slow this time, her
fingers circling Minjeong’s overstimulated clit. Minjeong’s body jerks, trembling
uncontrollably as another orgasm rips through her. She comes with a strangled cry, her voice
hoarse, only to pass out again when Jimin refuses to stop until she’s milked another climax
from her shaking form.

There’s so much cum—too much. Minjeong feels it seeping out of her, dripping down her
thighs, pooling beneath her on the bed. Jimin pulls out, only to stroke herself to completion,
spilling her release across Minjeong’s flushed face. Her fingers grip Minjeong’s chin, tilting
her head up. “Swallow,” Jimin commands, her voice low and rough. Minjeong’s lips part
reluctantly, taking in the bittersweet taste. But when she tries to spit some out, Jimin’s hand
snaps against her cheek.

“Don’t you dare waste it,” Jimin snarls and instead of trashing out, Minjeong finds herself
turned on all over again.

Her stomach is bloated, her thighs sticky, and when Jimin finally pulls away, Minjeong feels
nothing but exhaustion and the messy aftermath clinging to her skin. Jimin strokes herself
again, her cock twitching as she paints Minjeong’s swollen tits and soft belly with another
load, knowing she can’t fit anymore cum inside of the omega.

Minjeong sees a smirk forming on the alpha’s face, reaching for her phone. She snaps a few
pictures, her eyes gleaming with pride. “So pretty,” she murmurs, more to herself than to
Minjeong, who’s too wrecked to protest—or care.

What messes with Minjeong the most isn’t the soreness in her body or the overwhelming
sensation of being utterly used. It’s the way she loves it. Loves being Jimin’s cum-dump doll,
loves the raw, unrestrained way Jimin takes her, treats her like a cheap whore she found
begging for a coin on the sidewalk.
And when she finds herself saying yes to everything, she doesn’t even feel ashamed. Content
with her inner omega for the first time. If Jimin asked her to carry her pups, she wouldn’t
hesitate. She’d nod, her body and mind already hers to claim.

The next time Minjeong wakes, it’s on her own terms. Jimin’s weight is heavy on top of her,
the alpha’s breath slow and even, accompanied by a faint snore. Minjeong blinks groggily,
her body aching in ways she didn’t know were possible. Everything hurts—the dull throb
between her legs, the stiffness in her hips, even the scratches on her arms.

She shifts slightly, wincing at the soreness, and for a brief moment. Blindly, she fishes for her
phone, maybe it can offer a distraction from the ache between her legs, her fingers brushing
the bedside table as she tries to avoid waking the beast sleeping on her. When she finally
grabs it, her lock screen catches her attention—it’s already Sunday. Her eyes widen as she
remembers what that means.

Jimin’s knot is supposed to form today.

The realization makes her giddy like before, the soreness momentarily forgotten as slick
starts to seep from her. The scent of it fills the air, rich and inviting, and she hears Jimin stir.

The alpha’s head lifts sluggishly, her eyes blinking slowly as she looks around, disoriented.
Her hand moves to her face, rubbing it before her gaze lands on Minjeong. Her brows furrow,
and she squints as if trying to make sense of something.

Minjeong’s lips twitch in amusement. “Hi?”

Her movements still and she suddenly collapses back onto Minjeong. She buries her face in
the crook of Minjeong’s neck, her voice muffled as she murmurs, “So it really was you.”

Minjeong chuckles, stroking Jimin’s hair instinctively. “Who else would it be, silly?”
Jimin doesn’t respond right away. Instead, a low, rumbling sound vibrates against Minjeong’s
skin. It takes her a moment to realize—it’s purring. Jimin is purring. For a moment, she’s
stunned, her fingers freezing mid-stroke. Then her chest tightens, something warm and
gooey spreads through her.

Jimin’s hands start to roam, one sliding down to cup Minjeong’s thigh, the other slipping
between her legs. Minjeong’s breath hitches, and she reaches down to grab Jimin’s wrist.

“Can we eat first?” she asks, her voice soft but firm.

Jimin lets out a petulant groan, nuzzling into her neck as if to protest. “You’re mean,” she
mutters.

Minjeong sighs, her lips quirking into a fond smile. “I need to take my pills,” she says gently.

Jimin pulls away slightly, her expression sulky but resigned. “Fine,” she grumbles, sitting up
and stretching lazily.

They sit together, scrolling through the hotel’s breakfast menu, the air light and unhurried.
After debating about whether to get something heartier or keeping it light, they settle on egg
white omelets with a side of fruit.

When the waitress finally arrives with their order, her ears are red, her movements stiff and
hurried. She avoids making eye contact, her discomfort palpable, and Minjeong quickly
notices why.

Jimin is releasing thick, possessive pheromones into the air, her sharp eyes tracking the
waitress’s every move and Minjeong can’t help but roll her eyes from beneath the safety of
the sheets. It’s stupid, completely unnecessary, but she knows better than to reason with an
alpha in the middle of a rut.
The waitress places the tray on the table and all but flees, her steps quick as she disappears
out the door. Jimin huffs in satisfaction, her gaze lingering on the closed door for a moment
longer before finally turning back to Minjeong.

“Really?” Minjeong murmurs, raising an eyebrow as she reaches for her fork.

Jimin shrugs. “Just making sure she knows her place.”

Minjeong doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead focusing on her food as she tries not to
laugh. The omelet is surprisingly good, light and fluffy.

When her eggs are done, Jimin picks up a grape, holding it to Minjeong’s lips. “Open.”

Minjeong gives her a look but complies, parting her lips to let Jimin feed her. The grape
bursts on her tongue, it feels extremely sweet compared to all the cum she swallowed.

“You like being spoiled,” Jimin points out, feeding Minjeong grapes one by one, her tone
teasing but leaving no room for denial.

“I deserve it,” Minjeong shoots back, chewing lazily. “After all the shit you’ve put me
through.”

Jimin’s eyes soften, a rare crack in her usual alpha sharpness. She leans closer, brushing a
stray strand of hair from Minjeong’s face with surprising tenderness. “You deserve the
world,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Minjeong shivers as Jimin’s lips brush against her ear, trailing kisses down the curve of her
neck. She tilts her head instinctively, giving Jimin more access, only to remember herself a
second later. With a small laugh, she pulls away, leaning over to grab her pills from the
nightstand.
Jimin groans loudly, flopping back onto the bed with all the grace of a petulant child.

“Just give me a second,” Minjeong says, rolling her eyes as she gulps the pill down with a
glass of water from their tray.

Before she can set the glass down, Jimin is on her. Her cup clatters to the floor as Jimin pins
her to the bed, her weight pressing down heavily, her movements frantic as usual.

Something’s different this time, though. Minjeong notices it immediately.

The alpha doesn’t dive right in, doesn't immediately push her cock inside. Instead she covers
Minjeong’s body with kisses, soft and unhurried, as if committing every inch of her to
memory. Her lips trail over Minjeong’s collarbone, down to her stomach, and back up again,
her nose pressing into Minjeong’s skin as she inhales deeply.

The alpha shudders, a sound somewhere between a groan and a purr vibrating against
Minjeong’s ribs. When she finally dips between Minjeong’s legs, her movements are languid.
Jimin’s tongue works slowly, lazily, she doesn’t suck on her clit as she’s not trying to make
Minjeong come but rather lose herself in her omega’s taste and scent.

“Jimin,” Minjeong breathes, her voice shaking. She writhes under the attention,
overstimulation is too much.

Jimin doesn’t respond, too caught up in her own haze. Her purring grows louder, each sound
vibrating through Minjeong’s core as Jimin kisses and licks her way back up her body.

When Jimin finally sinks into her, it’s with a single thrust, her cock stretching Minjeong fully
and it doesn’t hurt. She is used to it by now.

The alpha doesn’t try to switch positions or flip her over this time too—she simply holds
Minjeong in place, her nose pressed firmly against her scent gland as if she can’t get enough,
her grip on Minjeong’s waist tight enough to leave marks, utterly consumed by the omega
beneath her.

The synchrony between them is so perfect that Minjeong loses all sense of where her body
ends and Jimin’s begins. It feels like they’ve merged into one, everything beyond them is
nonexistent. The universe shrinks until it’s just the two of them, locked in this endless loop of
need and fulfillment.

Minjeong doesn’t know how long they’ve been like this, how many times her body has been
shattered by pleasure, or how many times Jimin has spilled herself inside her while drooling
onto her neck until the alpha suddenly lets out a needy, high-pitched whimper, and Minjeong
finally feels it—the knot swelling at Jimin’s base.

Jimin’s movements grow jerky, desperate. The sudden shift makes Minjeong clench around
her length, and Jimin’s breath hitches as she struggles to hold on. She tries to focus, to
breathe, but it’s impossible when Minjeong is writhing beneath her, panting, her eyes glassy
with need.

As her heartbeat finds Jimin's, all she can feel is the buttery wet slide of Jimin's rod into her
pussy that drools gobs of slick and precum, so nasty and loud because she’s fucked loose and
sloppy. Jimin’s heavy balls slap against Minjeong, each thrust deep and punishing, driving
her further into the mattress. Jimin is fucking her so hard and so thoroughly that neither of
them can tell where one ends and the other begins.

The knot grows faster than either of them can keep up with. Minjeong’s thighs tighten around
Jimin’s waist, pulling her in closer, her nails digging into Jimin’s arm as if she needs
something to keep her grounded.

Jimin pushes herself up just enough to meet Minjeong’s gaze, their foreheads pressing
together as her breath comes in ragged pants. “Minjeong, I’m—” Her voice dissolves into a
needy moan, her sentence unfinished.

Minjeong understands instantly. Her voice is breathless, desperate, but clear. “Yes, yes, yes.
Stuff me full. Knot me. I want everything. All your cum.”
Jimin growls, her entire body trembling as she loses control. Minjeong, emboldened by the
response, arches against her, her words tumbling out in a haze of lust. “Put your pups in me.
Please . Breed me. I wanna leak your cum for days. I wanna be your omega, Jimin. Please.”

Minjeong knows what she is saying is dangerous. Her teeth ache, her mouth fills with saliva,
and every instinct screams at her to bite. Jimin’s head dips back to Minjeong’s neck and the
alpha’s shoulder is right there to mark Jimin as hers forever. She shakes with the effort to
resist, she inhales Jimin’s pheromones to calm herself down but it only makes it worse.

“God, you’re my everything,” Jimin rasps, her voice trembling.

Minjeong’s lips press together, and she steels herself, putting her faith in the fragile shred of
self-control she has left. She can’t bite. Not yet. Maybe ever.

Jimin’s knot inflates fully, and Minjeong feels it as it distends her walls and presses against
her womb. The stretch is intense, and Minjeong wails, her entire body shuddering as her
canal fills with slick and cum, trapped inside her by the knot. The pressure and fullness tip
her over the edge, and Minjeong comes just as Jimin does.

Their bodies lock together, trembling in unison. Jimin’s hips buck involuntarily, the instincts
of an alpha driving her to push her cum as deep as possible, ensuring Minjeong takes all of it.

Minjeong moans through, every part of her is overwhelmed, her fingers clawing at Jimin’s
body as her belly inflates. Her body quivers uncontrollably, her moans breaking into soft
whimpers as the aftershocks ripple through her.

Jimin holds her tightly, her breathing erratic as her cock pulses, spilling the last of her release.
She buries her face in Minjeong’s neck, her arms wrapping around her omega as if she can’t
bear to let go.

They stay locked together, their bodies pressed close, for what feels like an eternity.
Minjeong feels cocooned, sheltered. Slowly, things begin to feel normal again—or at least
something close to it.
Jimin lifts her head after a while, her gaze flicking around the room as if she’s coming back
down to earth. Her brows furrow slightly, her blinking rapid, and the movement makes
Minjeong whine softly as the knot pulls at her sensitive walls.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jimin whispers, her voice unusually quiet. She presses a soothing kiss to
Minjeong’s temple, then another to her lips. Her hand cups Minjeong’s cheek, her thumb
brushing softly against her skin.

The knot doesn’t deflate, and Jimin doesn’t try to pull out. Instead, she settles back down and
takes Minjeong with her, her arm curling protectively around her as she tugs the blanket over
them. Minjeong snuggles closer, pressing her face into Jimin’s chest, her breaths coming in
soft, snuffly noises that make Jimin’s lips twitch into a faint smile.

They must have fallen asleep like that because the next thing Minjeong knows, there’s a loud
knock at the door.

Her eyes flutter open, and she groans at the intrusion. Jimin groans, too, her irritation shows
as she shifts. When she moves to get up, the knot pulls again, and Minjeong hisses in
discomfort.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Jimin mutters, smoothing a hand down Minjeong’s side. She presses a kiss
to her hand before throwing on the nearest piece of clothing and stomping toward the door,
her bare feet slapping against the floor.

Minjeong doesn’t register the conversation, still half-asleep and achy, but she figures Jimin
bought them more time when the alpha shuts the door and crawls back into bed, pulling
Minjeong into her arms.

They wake up again after a few more hours, the weight of exhaustion finally lifting. Jimin
doesn’t even ask—she just scoops Minjeong up and carries her to the bathroom, knowing full
well Minjeong can’t possibly walk on her own.
Jimin sits Minjeong down on the edge of the bathtub before stepping back into the bedroom
to grab their towels. Left alone, Minjeong’s eyes drift to the mirror, and what she sees startles
her. Her skin is a canvas of red, angry marks—bites, scratches, bruises—but beneath the
chaos, there’s something else. A glow.

Her cheeks flush as she studies her reflection, unsure of how to feel. The marks are glaring
reminders of everything that’s happened, but the soft warmth beneath her skin tells a different
story.

By the time Jimin returns, Minjeong has turned away from the mirror, her thoughts swirling.
The alpha doesn’t comment, instead focusing on getting the water ready for them. When
Jimin reaches for her hand to help her stand, Minjeong winces slightly, her body still sore
from the intensity of the past few days.

Slick and cum spill from between her legs just as she rises, thick and messy, dripping down
her thighs in sticky rivulets. Minjeong gasps softly, embarrassment heating her face as Jimin
watches intently. The alpha doesn’t let go of her hand, her gaze steady, unwavering.

“You’re beautiful,” Jimin murmurs as her eyes travel back up, her voice barely above a
whisper.

Minjeong’s cheeks really burn then. She doesn’t know how to respond, so she focuses on the
warm water as Jimin guides her into the tub. The heat soothes her sore muscles as she sinks
into it, letting Jimin carefully rinse her hair.

She feels exposed in a way she isn’t used to, but not in a bad way. It’s more like Jimin is
looking at her, really sees her, and it sends a strange flutter through her chest.

Neither of them says anything about what happened. It was their instincts talking, after all. A
haze of need and biology they couldn’t control. What is there to say anyway? “Sorry I said
all that weird stuff. I didn’t mean it… unless you liked it?” The very idea makes her cringe,
and she quickly shakes it off, dunking her head slightly to avoid Jimin’s eyes.
When they’re done, Jimin grabs a towel, wrapping it carefully around Minjeong’s body as if
she’s something fragile. Normally she would've hated it but Minjeong lets herself lean into it,
just a little.

By the time they’re dressed and ready to check out, Minjeong feels… off. The soreness has
mostly faded, her tummy no longer swollen, and she should feel relieved. Rationally, she
knows this was the expected outcome. The pills worked. Everything was fine.

If she’d ended up pregnant, her entire life would’ve been ruined. She doesn’t even want kids
—she’s too young, too unprepared, too focused on the life she’s building for herself. It’s
everything she’s always told herself, everything she’s always believed.

So why does she feel this hollow ache in her chest?

Jimin notices it too. Minjeong can feel her eyes lingering, the way her hand hovers, hesitant
to touch. There’s a tension in the air now, subtle but suffocating, and Minjeong doesn’t know
how to break it.

As they pack up their things, Jimin finally speaks. “You’re quiet.”

Minjeong forces a smile, zipping up her bag. “I’m just tired.”

Jimin doesn’t push, but the look in her eyes tells Minjeong she doesn’t believe her.

They check out of the hotel, and the ride back to campus is mostly silent. Jimin’s hand rests
on the gear shift, her fingers twitching like she wants to reach out but doesn’t know how.
Minjeong stares out the window, her mind is all messed up.

-:-
Everything changes. Whether Minjeong likes it or not. She tries to ignore it at first, acting as
though nothing’s different, but Jimin makes that impossible. The alpha gets clingy— very
clingy—and more shameless with her affection. True to her word, Jimin doesn’t distract her
during practices, but during breaks? All bets are off.

She’s constantly at Minjeong’s side, slinging an arm around her shoulders, leaning in close to
whisper in her ear, and stealing sips from her water bottle like it’s the most natural thing in
the world. The coach throws them dirty looks, and some teammates mutter under their
breaths, but Jimin doesn’t care. If anything, the disapproval seems to encourage her.

When Aeri corners Minjeong in the locker room one day, she doesn’t waste time. “Are you
and Jimin…?”

“No,” Minjeong says quickly, pulling her sweatshirt over her head.

Aeri crosses her arms, one eyebrow arching skeptically. “You have to admit, the timing of
your trip to visit your brother was very convenient. Did you—” she lowers her voice, “—go
through her rut with her?”

“Nope,” she replies curtly.

Aeri doesn’t back down, her expression shifting to incredulous so she adds, “And even if I
did, I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Minjeong, I’m just looking out for you,” Aeri says, her tone gentle.

And yet, somehow, it irritates Minjeong more than anything. She slams her locker shut and
snaps, “I don’t need that,” before walking off, ignoring the confused look Aeri sends her way.
Jimin wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was sweet—too sweet and Minjeong didn’t need
anyone stepping in or making assumptions.
Jimin’s sweetness only becomes more obvious as the days go by. She starts sitting with
Minjeong in the cafeteria, which is one thing, but she also insists on carrying her bag between
classes, walking her to and from practice, and waiting outside her lectures.

They take a break from all the fucking since their excessive horniness are temporarily cured
but Jimin still shows up at Minjeong’s dorm sometimes, leaning against the doorframe with
her signature smirk and saying, “Just wanted to see you.”

The whispers around campus grow louder, and Minjeong feels the weight of every curious
stare and side comment. At first, she’s painfully self-conscious about it. She keeps her head
down, avoids eye contact, and mutters excuses when her teammates joke about her “shadow.”
But as the days turn into weeks, she starts to let it go.

Jimin was right—the coach couldn’t do anything about it as long as they played their best.
And they were playing their best.

The season kicks off in December with three back-to-back games, and they crush the
competition with ease. Minjeong’s quick footwork and precision shooting pair perfectly with
Jimin’s brute strength and aggressive offense. They’re unstoppable, and no one seems to
suspect that Minjeong is an omega because no one can think one can play as well as
Minjeong.

Slowly, Minjeong starts to let herself accept Jimin’s affection. She doesn’t pull away when
Jimin leans in too close or protests when Jimin’s hand lingers a little too long on her hip. By
the time their third victory rolls around, she’s even laughing at Jimin’s cheesy compliments
during cooldown stretches.

And while part of her still feels a little shy about the attention, there’s another part that really,
really likes it.

-:-

It isn’t long before the holiday break rolls around. The semester flies by in a blur of practices,
games, and quiet moments with Jimin, but now Minjeong is ready for something different—
home.

She arrives at the train station just in time for Christmas Eve, and her heart lifts when she
spots her brother waiting for her by the platform, leaning casually against the car.

“Minjeong!” Jeongwoo calls out with a grin, waving her over.

She hurries toward him, her duffle bag bouncing against her shoulder. He barely waits for her
to close the gap before pulling her into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground slightly.

“Missed me?” Minjeong teases as she swats his arm.

“Not even a little,” he quips, ruffling her hair before grabbing her bag and tossing it into the
trunk.

They exchange lighthearted banter on the drive home, catching up on everything and nothing
all at once. Jeongwoo complains about the bruises on his back from carrying heavy arms,
while Minjeong grumbles about a split nail on her little finger. It’s easy, familiar, and by the
time they pull into the driveway, Minjeong feels a warmth that has nothing to do with the car
heater.

Her father is the first to greet her, bounding out of the house and scooping her up in his strong
arms. “My little athlete!” he exclaims, spinning her around like she’s still ten years old.

“Dad, put me down!” Minjeong laughs, though she clings to him all the same.

When he sets her down, her mother is already there, her eyes crinkling with fondness.
Minjeong leans in, pressing a kiss to her mother’s forehead, and her mom pats her cheek
gently.

“You’ve lost weight again,” her mother says as she feels her waist with her hands.
“Just the fat,” Minjeong replies, brushing it off as they head inside.

The smell of dinner wafts through the air—savory and rich—and Minjeong’s stomach growls
audibly. They sit down to eat shortly after, and though Minjeong is starving, she ends up
picking apart her food, nibbling only at the meat. Her mother notices, of course, sending her a
disapproving look that Minjeong pretends not to see.

Once the meal is done, and the table is cleared, Minjeong excuses herself with a stifled yawn.
“I think I’m going to head up,” she says, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” her father calls after her.

“Sleep well,” her mother adds.

Minjeong trudges up the stairs, her room exactly how she left it. The moment her head hits
the pillow, she feels a deep sense of relief. Home. She closes her eyes, allowing herself to
sink into the comfort of her bed and the quiet warmth of being surrounded by family.

-:-

When Minjeong wakes up, there are a set of messages from Jimin on her phone.

was the train comfortable?

did you get back safely?

did your brother pick you up on time?

im gonna assume your catching up with your family and didnt get kidnapped. gn.
Minjeong chuckles softly, her thumb hovering over the screen before she types out her reply.

Morning

Didn’t get kidnapped and arrived safely

Her lips twitch into a small smile as she sends it, but she quickly shoves her phone aside
when her mom’s voice calls her down for breakfast.

At the breakfast table, the familiar clatter of plates and the hum of casual conversation fill the
air. Minjeong is mid-bite when her phone buzzes again and again, and her brother, Jeongwoo,
notices.

“Who keeps texting you so early?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he pours himself a glass of
orange juice.

Minjeong shrugs, not looking up. “No one important.”

Jeongwoo narrows his eyes suspiciously, but before he can press further, their father leans
over, quick as lightning, and snatches the phone right off the table.

“‘Yu Jimin’?” he reads aloud as he squints at the screen.

“Dad!” Minjeong yelps, grabbing her phone back with a scowl.

“That sounds familiar,” her mother comments, glancing up from her coffee.
Jeongwoo grins, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, because at this very table last year, she was
talking about how much she wanted to gouge that alpha’s eyes out.”

Minjeong freezes for a split second, glaring at her brother.

“What happened?” he adds, his smirk widening.

“Nothing,” Minjeong says coolly, locking her phone and placing it face down on the table.
“I’m just capable of changing my mind.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Jeongwoo replies, leaning forward with mock seriousness.

Minjeong rolls her eyes, brushing him off as she takes another bite of her food. “What time
are Grandpa and Grandma coming?” she asks, her voice deliberately light as she changes the
subject.

After the best breakfast she’d had in ages, Minjeong heads out to play basketball with her old
friends. The crisp winter air nips at her cheeks, but she barely notices as she jogs onto the
familiar court, the ball bouncing rhythmically beneath her hand.

For the first time in a long time, she feels free—comfortable.

She’d taken her scent blockers first thing in the morning, out of habit more than necessity.
The thought of going without still made her uneasy, like walking outside without clothes. But
at least here, surrounded by people she’s known forever, she doesn’t have to obsessively
worry about her scent slipping up.

She lets herself get lost in the game, but she doesn’t take it so serious. The laughter and trash
talk of her friends echo across the court, and for once, she doesn’t rush to shower the second
they’re done. Instead, she slings her bag over her shoulder and joins the others as they head
to the nearby ice cream shop.
It’s easy, unhurried, and as Minjeong licks at her ice cream cone, she realizes how much she’s
missed this—being herself without overthinking every little thing. The only thing missing is
Jimin.

It’s only been a day, but she misses her. The thought makes her frown briefly, though she
doesn’t let herself get carried away with the fear of becoming too needy. She knows Jimin
misses her too; the endless texts blowing up her phone are proof enough.

Her phone buzzes again, and this time she receives a picture of a lumpy snowman with a
crooked carrot nose and a mole drawn with marker under its left eye.

"this is what you look like," the caption reads.

Minjeong smiles dumbly at her phone. She has to admit, with the mole and the awkward
charm, the resemblance is uncanny. She types out a quick response, “yeah it’s cute like me.”

Her giggling draws Chaehyun’s attention from across the table. “Who’s that?” she asks,
leaning over to peek at Minjeong’s screen.

“It’s… Jimin,” Minjeong says hesitantly, locking her phone as if that’ll stop the questioning.

Chaehyun raises an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “Jimin? The one you said, ‘I wanna fill a
pillowcase with dead batteries and beat her with it’ about? That Jimin?”

Minjeong winces. “Yeah. That would be correct.”

Her phone buzzes again, and Chaehyun doesn’t miss the way Minjeong’s lips twitch into a
small smile before she catches herself.
“So, what’s the deal with her?” Chaehyun asks, folding her arms and leaning forward.

Minjeong hesitates, glancing at her half-melted cone like it might hold the answer. But in the
end, she figures it’s safer to tell Chaehyun than anyone in her family. Chaehyun doesn’t know
anyone from SMCU either, so she’s the perfect candidate for letting it all out.

“We’ve been kind of hooking up,” Minjeong admits, her voice low enough to avoid the
attention of anyone else.

Chaehyun’s eyes widen. “Hooking up? As in hooking up ?”

“Yeah, dude, what else would it mean?” Minjeong huffs, already regretting her confession.

Her friend leans back, shaking her head with an amused grin. “Wow. It’s just a bit
unexpected.”

Minjeong rolls her eyes, ignoring Chaehyun’s teasing as the last of her ice cream melts on her
tongue. “It’s not a big deal,” she mutters, more to herself than to Chaehyun.

“Uh-huh,” Chaehyun says knowingly, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve been giving me a

headache for the last two years about how much you hate alphas, so I’ll say it is a big deal.”

Minjeong huffs, her fingers tapping restlessly against the table. “Well, I still hate them. My
coach, for one, but y’know… not all of them are bad.” Her voice softens, her gaze drifting to
the table. “Jimin can be… pretty nice once you get to know her.”

Chaehyun’s eyebrows shoot up, and her grin stretches wide. “God, you’re really dickmatized
right now, aren’t you?”

“Be quiet,” Minjeong snaps, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson.

Chaehyun snickers, leaning forward with her chin resting on her hand. “But it’s a good thing.
I’m glad you’re getting over your childish beliefs. It’s almost time for us to find mates, after
all.”

“Woah, hold on a second.” Minjeong straightens, her eyes narrowing. “Who said anything
about mates?”

“What, you wouldn’t want Jimin to be your mate?”

“I don’t want anyone to be my mate,” Minjeong says firmly. “I’m going to play for the
national team when I’m done with all this shit. I can’t afford a distraction like that.”

“So it’s just sex?”

Minjeong nods.

Chaehyun hums thoughtfully, tapping her fingers against her cheek as her grin returns.
“Okay. So… how big is she?”

Minjeong sighs, exasperated, and buries her face in her hands.

-:-

After a very humiliating conversation about her sex life with Chaehyun, Minjeong decides to
call it a day and heads home before their guests arrive. The first thing she does is take a
much-needed shower.

She barely has time to dry her hair and pull on a sweatshirt when her mom walks into her
room, holding up a pink, flowery dress.
“For dinner,” her mom says simply, as though that explains everything.

Minjeong tilts her head, her brow furrowing. “Why?”

“Remember the Nakamuras?”

“The ones who live down the street?” Minjeong asks, already dreading the answer.

Her mom nods. “Yes. Their alpha daughter is coming.”

Minjeong internally groans, her suspicions confirmed. She knows exactly where this is going
but still plays dumb. “So what does that have to do with the dress?”

Her mom sighs, lowering the dress slightly as she gives Minjeong a pointed look. “Minjeong,
you’re not a child anymore. I met your father when I was your age.”

Minjeong rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I know. You’ve said it like a billion times.”

“Well, that means you need to start searching for a mate already.”

Minjeong groans audibly this time, throwing herself dramatically onto the bed. “Mom…”

“Minjeong,” her mom says, her tone growing sharper, “please, just leave those scent blockers
behind and dress up for once. Who knows? Maybe you’ll like her.”

“No.” Minjeong buries her face in the pillows, muffling her protest.
Her mom’s voice turns stern. “Minjeong.”

Minjeong lifts her head, exasperated. “Why are you doing this? All I want to do is eat a nice
dinner with my family.”

Her mom doesn’t miss a beat. “And you can do that while meeting your potential new
family.”

Minjeong groans again, louder this time, but her mom only softens her tone as she adds,
“Unless you have someone in mind already.”

That makes Minjeong pause. She looks up at her mom, whose expression has shifted into
something more knowing, her eyes practically gleaming with mischief.

“You have this glow, you know,” her mom says with a sly smile, waving a hand vaguely in
Minjeong’s direction. “The one a person gets when—”

“Okay, okay!” Minjeong cuts her off, sitting up quickly and snatching the dress. “I’ll wear
the stupid dress. Just stop talking.”

Her mom gives her a satisfied smile, and she pats Minjeong’s cheek before leaving the room.

Minjeong wears the dress. It’s not really her style but she figures it’s easier to humor her
mom than argue about it. Still, she doesn’t go all in. Her scent blockers stay firmly in place;
the idea of being vulnerable while meeting a new alpha isn’t just unappealing—it’s
unthinkable.

When she finally meets the alpha, Minjeong learns her name is Kazuha. She’s undeniably
beautiful, with soft features that could have been plucked straight from a romance webtoon.
Her demeanor is polite, almost painfully so, and when she shyly asks if she can call Minjeong
“unnie,” the bashfulness is cute. Minjeong recognizes that. Objectively, Kazuha is lovely.

But she feels… nothing.

Her mom doesn’t comment on the way Minjeong’s responses are clipped, or the subtle ways
she brushes off Kazuha’s attempts to connect. It makes Minjeong wonder if the glow is really
obvious—some tell that gives her away. She wonders if that’s why no one ever seemed to
believe her back in university when she swore that she and Jimin were “just friends.”

The thought makes her stomach twist, but Minjeong shakes it off. She’s home now. This isn’t
SMCU. She forces herself to focus on the present, and the company she’s in.

The evening settles into a pleasant rhythm. Gifts are exchanged, and Minjeong finds herself
laughing when she unwraps basketballs and ugly jerseys from three different sides of the
family.

“What can I say?” she jokes, holding one of the balls up. “You all know me too well.”

The air is light, easy, and Minjeong drinks just enough white wine to loosen her tongue. By
the time dessert is served, she’s in a spirited discussion with her grandfather about the
systemic oppression of omegas in the workplace.

“It’s not even about the laws” she argues, gesturing with her glass. “It’s about culture. It’s
about how people treat us.”

Her grandfather nods thoughtfully, his brows furrowing. “I see your point, but changing
culture takes time. The laws are a start.”

Minjeong appreciates his effort, even if they don’t entirely see eye to eye. But when dessert
arrives—homemade pies, cakes, and cookies—she excuses herself to the kitchen.
“I already had ice cream today,” she explains, though no one but her mom seems to notice.

Once in the quiet sanctuary of the kitchen, she exhales, leaning against the counter. The hum
of voices from the dining room fades into the background as she stares at her phone, her
fingers hovering over the screen.

Before she knows it, she’s calling Jimin.

The phone rings twice before Jimin picks up. “Yes?” The alpha’s voice calmly answers, the
sound is pleasant, thrumming in Minjeong’s air passageways and arteries. Her voice is even
deeper over the phone.

Still, she can’t help but roll her eyes at the greeting. “What kind of answer is that? Am I
interrupting something?”

Jimin scoffs on the other end. “You should be grateful I’m even answering when you left me
on delivered.”

Minjeong frowns, pulling her phone away to check their messages. Sure enough, there it is—
her last unread text from Jimin. She groans inwardly as she remembers being too caught up
with Chaehyun to reply.

“Sorry. Anyway. Merry Christmas!" She cheers happily.

She can hear Jimin’s smirk. "A bit too much to drink?”

“What? Nah. Was thirsty, that’s all.”

“Well, then you chose an appropriate day to be thirsty,” Jimin says, and her voice is so, so far
away, isn’t it? But Minjeong can still imagine her face, her hair, her eyes. The way her lips
form the words.

Perhaps she drank too much wine.

“And how did you spend your evening, Yu?” she asks, silencing her thoughts.

Jimin exhales, and the sound feels heavy. “My father threw a party at our house.”

Minjeong blinks, surprised at her tone. “And that wasn’t fun?”

“Hmm.” Jimin’s pause is telling. “It was… fun. Just got a bit out of hand. Dad really
shouldn’t do things like that.”

Minjeong’s brow furrows. She’s more sober now. She realizes with a pang that she doesn’t
know much about Jimin’s family. “Is everything okay?” she asks tentatively, not sure how
much she can push.

“Yeah,” Jimin replies softly, but the quiet that follows makes Minjeong wonder if
something’s bothering her. It feels strange. She can’t remember ever seeing Jimin sad.

“Anyway,” Jimin continues, her tone lightening, “he needed to go to bed, so I made everyone
leave.”

“What about your mom? Did she help?”

“Kind of. She’s dozed off now, though.”

Minjeong nods, though Jimin can’t see it, a barren sort of melancholy settling in her chest.
Jimin. Poor Jimin.

She misses Jimin.

“Not such a happy Christmas, then,” she says softly, glum.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t say that,” Jimin hums. “My sister and I played in the snow before she and
her mate went out. That was nice.”

“You all right, then?” Minjeong asks quietly. “Good holiday?”

Jimin hums in acknowledgment, her voice a touch warmer. “Yeah. Just a bit tired.”

“Me too,” Minjeong admits, bluntly adding, “I’m pissed at myself. I shouldn’t have drunk so
much.”

Jimin laughs abruptly, the sound like a burst of light. “You must’ve had fun if you ignored
my texts.”

“Oh my God, you’re still on that?” Minjeong groans, but her tone is playful. “But yeah, I did.
Crushed my ex-team on the court, came home to my mom setting me up with an alpha, and
made the mistake of talking politics with my elders. Awesome day.”

“What? Your mom did what? ”

Minjeong laughs at Jimin’s tone. “Yeah, she set me up with the neighbor’s kid. Can you
believe it? But she was nice, y’know. I might’ve even found someone pretty to kiss on New
Year’s,” she adds with a teasing lilt, expecting Jimin to play along.
The line goes silent instead.

“Err… Hello? Jimin?” Minjeong prompts, frowning.

“Don’t kiss anyone else,” Jimin says after a beat with that deep voice of hers.

Minjeong chuckles nervously, trying to lighten the mood. “I wasn’t going to. Just joking.”

Jimin doesn’t laugh. Instead, she follows up quickly, her words coming back-to-back like
she’s been holding them in. “Is your mom serious about this? Does she know about me?”

Minjeong winces. She regrets trying to tease Jimin, especially when it’s clear she’s had a
shitty day. “No, no, she isn’t and she doesn’t know about you. But honestly, that alpha was a
total letdown. I just brushed her off.”

“You said she was nice and pretty a second ago,” Jimin points out.

“I was just joking!” Minjeong says quickly, trying to fix her mistake. “Meeting her was
awful. I’m pretty sure her hairspray caused irreparable damage to the ozone layer and my
sense of smell. She was, essentially, a chemical bath on legs.” Jimin’s laugh finally returns,
and Minjeong feels relief. “I wished you were here the whole time,” she adds, her voice soft,
almost shy.

“You did?” Jimin asks, and for once, she sounds startled—like she doesn’t quite know what
to do with the confession.

“Of course. You would’ve made everything better.”

Jimin goes quiet again, but it’s not the heavy kind of silence from earlier. It feels tentative,
like she’s weighing something in her mind. “Would you like me to drive there?” she asks
finally, her voice uncharacteristically meek.
Minjeong blinks, caught off guard. “I… of course, but won’t the drive tire you out too
much?”

“No, I’ll be okay. I’ll hop in the car right now if you’ll have me.”

“You’re always welcome,” Minjeong replies, her words careful but warm. “But it’s too late to
drive. Maybe in the morning?”

“It’s fine. Just give me the address.”

“Jimin…” Minjeong huffs out.

“Yes?”

Minjeong hesitates, sensing how much Jimin needs this. With a quiet sigh, she sends her
location.

“Great. See you in five hours,” Jimin says, her tone determined. She hangs up before
Minjeong can say anything else.

Minjeong stares at her phone, a mix of worry and anticipation swirling in her chest.

-:-

Jimin arrives just past four in the morning. Minjeong, who had been fighting off sleep for
hours, pulls herself off the couch the moment she hears the sound of a car pulling up. She
opens the door just as Jimin steps onto the porch, shivering slightly against the cold.
 Without a word, Jimin wraps her in a long, warm hug, holding her tightly like she’d been
waiting for this moment all night. Her lips find Minjeong’s temple in a soft kiss, followed by
a quiet, “Sorry for keeping you up.”

Minjeong shakes her head, her voice soft and reassuring. “It’s fine. Come in.”

She leads Jimin upstairs, careful to keep her steps light to avoid waking her family. Her room
is small but cozy, and Jimin looks around briefly before asking where the bathroom is.

When she comes back into the room, Minjeong is already in bed, lying on her side with the
blanket pulled up to her chin. She blinks sleepily as Jimin crosses the room.

The alpha doesn’t hesitate. She climbs into bed, slipping in front of Minjeong and pressing
close until their bodies are flush. She buries her face in Minjeong’s neck, her nose brushing
against her scent gland, and inhales deeply.

The touch sends a shiver down Minjeong’s spine, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she
threads her fingers through Jimin’s hair, her movements slow and soothing. Jimin sighs softly
against her skin, the tension in her shoulders melting away as her breathing steadies.

Minjeong feels her own eyelids grow heavier, lulled by the warmth of Jimin’s body and the
steady rise and fall of her chest. She continues stroking Jimin’s hair, her hand moving in a
rhythm as gentle as the quiet night around them, until Jimin drifts off to sleep.

In the stillness of the room, Minjeong smiles faintly to herself as she hears Jimin purring
again.

Chapter End Notes

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