Work Text:
Jungah would be the first to admit that afternoons were her favorite part of the day. Afternoons meant she was done with classes for the day, and that she could go home and nap. More recently, those naps have begun to include Namjoo, and Jungah was certain she hadn’t been so excited for naptime since she was a child.
Namjoo is already home by the time Jungah arrives, changed into more comfortable lounge clothes and laying back on the couch. She bites back a smile as she leans down to place her sandals on the shoe rack, spotting the tiny black shorts she’d gifted to her girlfriend—the kind that are meant to be rolled up at the waistband.
(“My whole ass is hanging out.”
“That’s the style, unnie.”)
“Hey, unnie!” she chirps, passing through the living room to the bedroom to grab a change of clothes for herself. She hears Namjoo grunt something groggily, already dozed off in spite of the annoying early afternoon programming chattering away on their television.
She emerges from their room in a small black camisole and a pair of billowing black sweatpants and wastes no time in wedging herself between Namjoo and the couch, half on top of the older woman with one leg slung over her hips. Namjoo grunts like she’s annoyed, but smooths her hand down Jungah’s bare shoulder anyway, fingers lightly tracing along the slightly raised skin of her tattoos.
“H’was class,” she mumbles, eyes still closed, barely coherent.
“Good,” Jungah wiggles her hand underneath Namjoo’s t-shirt and feels her stomach jump at the sudden cold fingers spread across her ribs. “How was your day?” she asks, nuzzling into Namjoo’s shoulder as she makes herself comfortable.
“Fine,” Namjoo sighs, “M’sleepy,” she whispers, tugging Jungah a little closer, settling with the new weight on top of her.
Jungah just hums in response, sleep coming easily as she relaxes into the couch and her girlfriend. Both of their breathing evens out as they doze in the soft sunlight, reruns of decades-old dramas playing softly in the background.
---
Waking up is a process for Jungah; she’s not sure how long they’ve been sleeping—not more than a couple of hours, the sunlight still bright through her eyelids—but it may as well have been a full night with how heavy she still feels with sleep. She wakes up so slowly, she’s not entirely aware of herself.
She vaguely processes the television still droning on, but it feels far away from where she is—like it’s playing in another room. She lets herself float in that space, between waking and sleeping, trying to stay quiet while she listens to Namjoo’s heart beneath her.
A soft grunt from Namjoo pulls her a bit closer to waking, and that’s when she feels a sharp tug at her core when Namjoo shifts slightly, pressing her thigh a bit more firmly between Jungah’s legs. She becomes aware of the tiny little minute movements her hips have been making, probably since before she woke up, grinding herself against the older woman’s thigh.
Jungah’s not sure how long she’s been doing it, but she’s so wet already, the soft cotton of her panties soaked through and sticking her to folds. She bites her bottom lip to stifle a groan at the next kick of her hips, the seam of her underwear pressing just right against her clit.
It feels wrong—dirty, even. Namjoo is asleep and she’s just rutting against her like some kind of bitch in heat, unable to control herself. But it feels good--the angle and pressure just enough to drive her wild. She’ll stop in a second, wait for Namjoo to wake up. Just...just one more minute. Then she’ll stop. She’ll wait, she’ll be good, and--
There’s a sharp inhale beneath her, the arm slung around her shoulders suddenly gripping her instead of resting there as dead weight.
“W’r’doin’,” Namjoo smacks her lips as she comes to.
Jungah is mortified; she woke up her girlfriend humping her leg. She feels her face heat up with embarrassment but, worst of all, she can’t fucking stop.
“Unnie, I’m sorry, I—” she cuts off with a gasp, Namjoo trailing her hand down Jungah’s back to grasp at her ass.
“Did you have a dirty dream during your nap, baby?” Namjoo asks, pressing a sweet kiss to Jungah’s forehead, guiding the roll of her hips with the grip on her backside.
“No, I—” she groans softly at the pressure against her clit, “I-i-i don’t know, I just,” another groan, “Need you, unnie.”
Namjoo hums softly, as though she’s considering the situation before her. She brings her other hand down, slipping it in the front of Jungah’s sweats. “You’re so wet already,” she says, long fingers lightly tracing the outline of Jungah through her soaked panties, “How long were you doing that to get so worked up?”
“N-not long, I swear, unnie, I just woke up and—” she scrambles to explain herself, trying to come up with an explanation that doesn’t make her sound like a total creep. Namjoo squeezes gently around her hip, causing her to look up for the first time. The older woman cranes her neck, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Jungah’s lips to cut off her rambling.
“I’m not mad,” she smiles against Jungah’s lips, “It’s kind of flattering, you know—being woken up by a hot girl grinding on you.”
“You’re not?” Jungah whispers between them.
“Promise,” Namjoo says, kissing her again. She presses her fingers more insistently against Jungah, slipping her tongue inside when the younger’s lips part on a gasp.
They make out like that for awhile, slow and syrupy while Jungah grinds against Namjoo’s fingers, pinching and rubbing at her clit over her panties. If she weren’t so worked up, Jungah is sure she could doze off again just like this, wrapped up in Namjoo, their lips pressed together.
“Unnie, I’m close,” she murmurs, her hips more insistent as she nears the edge, “I wanna...can I…”
She doesn’t want to voice it—it’s too embarrassing. Jungah knows that Namjoo knows about her thing for Namjoo’s thighs, but it doesn’t mean she’s keen on talking about it. She’d slipped up that very first time they’d met—the long expanse of Namjoo’s smooth legs on display like some kind of erotic art aimed specifically at Jungah--but she’s been careful to not make the same mistake twice, convinced that was how she’d finally gotten Namjoo to be her girlfriend after all that time. By playing it cool .
“What do you want? All you have to do is ask, baby,” Namjoo croons, kissing wetly along Jungah’s jaw.
And Jungah likes to believe that she is a strong-willed person—always determined to do the best she can at everything she sets her mind to. It’s just that Namjoo makes her feel a little out of her mind, lose her inhibitions a bit.
“Can I,” she starts, biting her lip in embarrassment. Namjoo pulls her hand from her pants, granting a small reprieve to Jungah’s overworked brain, and presses another kiss to Jungah’s forehead.
Be brave, Jeon Jungah!
She must furrow her brow while she tries to psyche herself up, Namjoo breathing a soft laugh out while she waits for Jungah to find her words, her thumb rubbing soothing circles into her hip where her camisole had ridden up a bit.
“Can I ride unnie’s thigh?” she finally manages to blurt out.
Namjoo kisses her again, humming quietly. “Anything you want,” she says as she pulls away.
Jungah wastes no time, scrambling out of her sweats and underwear, kicking them down to the end of the couch. She moans when she leans back down, straddling Namjoo’s leg once again, her bare pussy pressing against the older woman’s warm thigh, her short long having ridden up to the juncture of her hip.
“Feels good, baby?” Namjoo asks, sucking lightly along Jungah’s neck, gently moving aside her dark hair to uncover new spots.
“Perfect,” she breathes. She’s so wet from before, it’s already spread across the patch of Namjoo’s thigh she’d been grinding against. She can feel her entrance clenching as she works herself up again, rubbing her clit more insistently against the smooth skin.
“Humping my leg like a puppy. So fucking hot,” Namjoo whispers, raking her fingers back through Jungah’s hair.
The younger woman whines loudly at that, frantically pushing Namjoo’s shirt up. She has to get her mouth on something before she says something stupid. As soon as the shirt is out of the way, Jungah wraps her lips around one of Namjoo’s small dark nipples, tugging at her other one with her tattooed hand. She feels Namjoo shift slightly beneath her and opens her eyes in a daze just enough to watch as she slips the hand that had been down Jungah’s pants earlier into her own shorts, groaning as she begins to circle her clit.
Jungah whimpers again, hips picking up their pace. “M’gonna come, unnie,” she says, words muddied by Namjoo’s boob still in her mouth.
“Yeah?” Namjoo says, voice pitched higher, “Me, too. You’re dripping all over my leg, so fucking wet. You’re so hot, what the fuck. How are you so hot?” she sounds almost angry about it, like it’s an inconvenience to her.
Something about it finally brings it all together for Jungah, tipping her over the edge. She moans, pitchy little ah, ah, ah’ s as she comes, still fucking herself on Namjoo’s thigh. She feels Namjoo tense and shudder underneath her as she comes, too, releasing a low groan as her fingers still in her shorts.
They’re both still for a moment, panting as they try to catch their breath in the aftermath of their orgasms. Eventually, Namjoo reaches up with her clean hand again, pulling Jungah up into a messy kiss. She feels keyed up again almost immediately, like she’s drowning and Namjoo is her life raft.
Desperate is probably the word for it.
“Wanna taste,” she pants as they lick into each other’s mouths, more teeth and tongue than actual kissing, “Wanna go down on you.” She trails her tattooed hand down Namjoo’s torso to where the waistband of her shorts is still stretched over the older woman’s wrist, tugging slightly on the shorts. “Can I, unnie? Please?”
Namjoo laughs as she dips her tongue into Jungah’s open mouth, dimples popping briefly on her round cheeks. “Like I could say no to you.”
“You say no to me all the time, unnie,” Jungah pouts as she sits up, scooting back so she can pull Namjoo’s shorts and underwear off.
“Saying that we can’t buy a huge container of mint chocolate-chip ice cream is not ‘saying no’ it’s just being reasonable,” Namjoo counters as Jungah settles between her legs, helping to settle one on the floor in front of their couch and the other over the back of the couch.
Jungah feels her own pussy clench at the sight of Namjoo’s dark folds and big clit, glistening with her own wetness. She leans down, laving wet kisses along Namjoo’s soft inner thighs, working her way up.
When she reaches Namjoo’s cunt, she breathes in the smell of of her—taking in the musky scent of sex—before diving in, licking up her slit. She sucks messily on her lips, rubbing her nose against Namjoo’s clit. She looses herself in it for a moment, her own cheeks and chin steadily becoming messy with a mixture of her own spit and Namjoo’s pussy.
“You’re like,” Namjoo swallows, “Really good at that,” she says.
Jungah leans back enough to look up at Namjoo’s face. She takes in the sight: Namjoo’s chest heaving as she fights for breath, t-shirt still pushed up over her breasts; both of her hands buried in her own hair, like she didn’t know what to do with them; the sweat beading along her forehead, making the dark hair of her of her roots damp.
She tongues lazily around Namjoo’s entrance, “Unnie just tastes so good,” she murmurs. She replaces her tongue with her fingers, lightly tracing her opening before plunging two inside, hooking them upward to rub against her spot. Namjoo is always wet, but after coming once already, she’s soaked—all soft inside, clenching greedily around Jungah’s fingers.
Jungah moans softly, clenching her own thighs together to relieve some of the pressure between her own legs, leaning up slightly to flick her tongue against Namjoo’s hard clit before sucking it into her mouth completely, pressing her tongue against it firmly.
“Oh fuck , baby, that’s—” Namjoo cuts off with a moan, grinding down against Jungah. “I’m gonna fucking come, oh shit,” she babbles. She flutters around Jungah’s fingers, hips jerking as she comes again.
She pulls away slowly, pressing one last soft kiss to the short, coarse hairs surrounding her. She rests her head on Namjoo’s hip, reaching down to finally touch herself again, moaning softly when she feels Namjoo’s fingers carding through her hair.
“Thank you, unnie,” Jungah murmurs, moaning again as she traces lightly around her clit, too sensitive for direct contact after coming once already.
“Did so good for me, baby,” Namjoo croons, “Made yourself come and me. Can you come one more time for me, sweetheart?” She’s still raking her fingers through Jungah’s hair, scratching lightly against her scalp.
“Yeah, unnie, I’m—I’m gonna,” Jungah squeezes her eyes shut, mouth dropping open on a silent moan as she comes again suddenly, finger brushing just so against the sensitive skin.
Jungah stays resting against Namjoo’s hip until she feels a light tap on the top of her head accompanied by a soft C’mere. She lifts herself back up, plastering herself to Namjoo’s front.
Namjoo laughs, kissing the top of Jungah’s head while the younger woman cuddles against her neck, snuffling lightly as she makes herself comfortable again.
"Someone woke up awfully horny,” Namjoo teases.
“You say that like you don’t like to fuck,” Jungah says, lips dragging against Namjoo’s throat where she’s pressed her face.
“I didn’t say that,” Namjoo laughs again, “Was just quite the surprise to wake up to, that’s all.”
Jungah feels her face heat once again in embarrassment, “Unnie, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Hey, no,” Namjoo wraps her hand back around to lift Jungah’s chin, looking her in the eye, “I meant it when I said I wasn’t upset. Okay?” Jungah nods, cheek squished up against Namjoo’s large palm, “Okay. Now let’s go shower. Your pussy is all over my leg and it’s kind of icky.”
Jungah bursts out laughing, “Icky? Really?” She rolls off Namjoo anyway, landing on her knees on the floor in front of her couch.
“What? It is! Look at this!” Namjoo gestures to a spot on her thigh, still a tiny bit wet from Jungah earlier, “Icky!”
Jungah leans against the couch near Namjoo’s head, grinning as she looks down at the older woman, brushing some of her dark blond stands away from her face. “Are you saying my vagina is icky, unnie?” she asks, eyes filled with mirth as she watches Namjoo fumble her words.
“Absolutely not. It’s wonderful. The stuff it leaves behind on my leg, though? Less than desirable. Now c’mon,” she taps a finger to Jungah’s nose, which scrunches up in laughter almost immediately, “Go bathe. Then we’ll figure out dinner, yeah?”
Jungah nods before schooling her expression into something she hopes looks like surprise. “Wait! Unnie, I almost forgot!” Namjoo raises her eyebrows, clearly about to panic alongside Jungah if she needs to. Instead she leans down to peck a quick kiss to Namjoo’s lips, giggling out a soft Love you, unnie! before she gets up and quickly scampers down the hall to their bathroom, leaving Namjoo behind on the couch, stunned.
“You’re figuring out dinner on your own now for making me panic like that!” she hears Namjoo call from the living room.
Jungah throws her head back and cackles as she turns the shower on.
“Anything for you, unnie.”