۶ৎ DIAMOND GIRL — kim minjeong.
⌗ in which— minjeong knew about your past—the clubs, the women, the mistakes, but when you got together, you promised her she meant more than all of it. after a years of peace, you left for a world tour, and everything fell apart when still she couldn’t trust you. two years later, she’s settled in a new home in la, near your hometown, and calls you over like the small contact you've had since hasn’t left its mark.
pairings. soloist!minjeong x singer!reader
warning(s). 18+ (smut), servicetop!reader, toxic relationships, angst, explicit language, and let me know if there's more!
word count. 3.1k
authors note. how do ppl write 20k words of smut wtf.. teach me. i know i said opera house but i MIGHT be a deadbeat idk yet… plz enjoy dis
there's a missed call from minjeong.
you stare at the screen for a while, lips pressed together, before she follows through with a text.
[minjeong🕊️ ]
10:37 pm you home?
10:37 pm come over.
10:39 pm i’m serious…
10:41 pm don’t make me ask again.
your hands move before your mind catches onto what you're doing, grabbing your keys and texting her for her address.
the drive to her house is too fast. she lives here now. los angeles. a brand new life in your city, your hometown, where you had your big break in the industry and where you never thought you'd see her again.
two years ago, you walked out of the home you shared with her and into an airport, where a world tour waited, fans clamoring for your music and your presence. by the time you came back, it wasn't a home anymore. by the time you came back, she wasn't waiting.
minjeong never liked waiting.
but you saw her everywhere even when you weren’t looking, especially when you weren’t looking. a magazine cover at some airport you were too high to remember landing in. her voice playing through hotel speakers while you were half-dressed and hungover. a red carpet headline about a sold-out solo showcase in singapore. a performance clip your stylist made the mistake of showing you backstage in brazil. you told him to turn it off, but you’d already seen it, already memorized the way her mouth moved around lyrics that didn’t sound like love songs but felt like punishment.
minjeong had always been a soloist in every way that counted—built to shine alone, born with that kind of quiet fire people orbit without knowing why but when she loved you, she bent the edges of herself inward, let her walls soften, let you live inside the places no one else could even find. she didn’t glow then…she burned.
now here she is, planting herself near the ruins of where you grew up, acting like the short, scattered texts between you were enough to justify a visit from you after all this time.
like you weren't the reason she lost sleep for months… and vice versa.
like she wasn't the reason you drank yourself unconscious in tokyo, ripped up a hotel room in paris, and ignored the calls from your manager in london because she was all over your timeline hanging out with faces she knew would get a rise out of you.
she answers the door in a silk robe.
figures.
the black matching satin nightgown underneath peeks out just enough for her to catch you looking. she barely gives you a once-over before turning around, leading you inside as if this isn't your first time in her new home.
the house is exactly what you’d expect from her. a modern dream of white pillars and glass doors, white tiles to go with the warm wooden floors, sleek furniture that looks like it belongs in a magazine rather than a home. the only thing that feels off is how there's barely anything decorating the space. the walls are empty except for one abstract painting. no photos of her family or friends, no plants, nothing.
minjeong glances back at you as she walks further inside, her silk robe slipping just a little lower down her shoulder, revealing a bit more skin. you swallow thickly and avert your gaze to the large kitchen, where she pulls out two glasses from the cabinets.
she pours you a glass of wine. doesn't ask if you want one, just assumes you'll drink it. old habits.
“you live here now?”
she hums in confirmation, handing you the glass before walking away, stopping near the floor-to-ceiling windows that open to the backyard. there's a pool, a white stone pathway lit up by small lights, and an outdoor living area with a fireplace.
“you’ve got nice taste, i’ll give you that. the place suits you.”
minjeong turns her head to look at you, lips pursed, when you join her by the window. she takes a sip of her drink, and you don't miss the way her gaze slides down to your throat as you do the same.
“i barely had to think about it. sent someone a mood board; they took care of the rest.” she shrugs, swirling the wine in her glass.
“right. because why deal with the hassle of making a home when you can have someone do it for you?”
minjeong narrows her eyes at you, deciding it's better to ignore the jab. instead, she changes the subject: “come see outside.”
she doesn’t wait for you to agree. just takes your hand and walks with you out of the house. you let her drag you along, not bothering to tug your hand out of her grip as you follow behind her, her palms warm and fingers curling firm around yours.
you step outside, your feet sinking into the cool stone pathway as minjeong leads you to the pool. it's dark out, a few stars peeking out from behind the clouds and the city lights. the water is a bright, unnatural blue, lit up from below.
you let go of her hand once you step a foot away from the pool, and she turns her head to watch as you bend down to touch the water. it's warm.
“it’s heated." she says from behind you, as if she can read your thoughts. "you can take a dip if you want. i won't judge. the neighbors already know what i bought the pool for."
you turn to look at her, standing a couple of feet away, leaning against one of the white pillars, wine glass in hand, the silk robe slipping off of one shoulder for the second time tonight.
she looks good, even better in the soft glow of the pool lights. it's unfair, really. you've been through this a thousand times. she gets her way, and you end up looking like an idiot who can't say no.
she's always loved a game of push and pull, a fight that ends with her winning.
you glance back at the pool. so, really, what's the point of fighting anymore?
minjeong smiles, knowing she's won when you move your glass to your other hand, using the free one to roll up your sweats and take off your shoes and socks. she watches with amusement as you sit on the edge of the pool and dip your legs into the warm water.
"i didn't think you'd show up."
you scoff. she knows you well, too well to know that you couldn’t resist showing up here. how easy it is for her to make you fall back into old patterns. "neither did i," you sigh, looking at the ripples of the water, the way it lights up the reflection of the sky above.
she hums, staring out at you. "do you remember when you said i made things easier for you?" she murmurs, "that i made you less of a mess."
"you did."
minjeong nods, glancing down at her wine, a slight frown on her lips. "so, what happened between us?"
you inhale sharply, the question catching you off guard. she's never been this direct. this is not how these conversations go.
"you know what happened. you didn't trust me. you knew who i was before you loved me, minjeong, and you still made me pay for it."
she lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "you expect me to apologize for not trusting you?"
"no," you say, your jaw tightening. "i expect you to realize that you ruined us."
is tonight the night you'll get the answers to the questions that have been burning in your mind for two years? why did you stop trusting me? what did you hear? did you ever believe in us at all?
or an apology for letting the rumors fester and the distance grow, for blaming you after she convinced herself over and over that you were being unfaithful, for thinking that all the time you spent together was a waste, all because she didn't believe you were capable of being faithful to anyone.
she's quiet, and it makes you look up. minjeong meets your gaze, and she looks hurt. it's a rare look, one you've seen maybe once or twice before, and each time, it had broken you a little.
a pang of guilt hits you. you shake your head before getting to your feet, setting your glass aside, and closing the distance between the two of you. you tower over her as you reach out to gently cup her face in your hands.
minjeong doesn’t deserve to win.
not after everything. not after the nights you spent drowning in alcohol, searching for traces of her in women who weren’t her. not after she let you bleed out in silence while she convinced herself she was the one suffering.
but then she tilts her head, eyes dropping to your mouth like she can already taste the kiss that will come next. her fingers tighten in your shirt, nails scraping lightly against your chest as she exhales against your lips.
“they didn’t satisfy you, did they?” she whispers, her tone a little more harsh than before.
she doesn't have to specify. you know what she's talking about. you've both moved on, or at least, tried to. she's been with a few people, some of them familiar faces, and you've slept with a few celebrities. some were just friends who needed a distraction, and you were always willing to provide one. most of the time, you ended up in bed with a stranger.
"no," you admit. "they never did."
minjeong tilts her head, eyes flicking between yours and your mouth. "did they even come close?”
"not even a little."
minjeong doesn’t say anything at first. she just watches you, eyes sharp, lips curling into a small smile. then, without another word, she turns on her heel and walks back into the house.
you hesitate for half a second before following her, drawn in like always. she moves with purpose, her silk robe swishing around her ankles as she heads towards the kitchen. the glass of wine in her hand sways slightly, but not a drop spills.
she sets it down on the kitchen counter, fingers lingering around the rim like she’s about to say something—something that will dig under your skin, something that will make you regret coming here in the first place.
you don’t let her.
before she can take another step, before she can turn this into another game where she calls the shots, you grab her wrist and spin her around. she barely has time to react before your mouth is on hers, swallowing whatever cruel remark was about to leave her lips.
she stiffens against you for half a second, eyes wide. then, slowly, she relaxes, melting into the kiss, her body pressing against yours like a puzzle piece finally finding its place. her fingers twist into your hair, tugging slightly. a sharp inhale of breath before your hands slide down to her thighs, lifting her up.
minjeong is the one who breaks the kiss, her lips already swollen and bruised. she pulls you closer, legs wrapping around your waist.
your hands grip her thighs, lifting her on the edge of the counter. her thighs are bare under the silk robe, and you slide your fingers higher, up to the edge of her nightgown, brushing before coming back down to trace her skin.
"you know i can't wait any longer," minjeong whispers, her voice low, breath hot against the side of your neck.
"that's a new line," you murmur, not knowing what else to say.
she rolls her eyes. "shut up and fuck me."
and god, the way her voice cracks on the last word, the desperation in her tone, is enough for your blood to run south. her legs tighten around your waist. her hands curl around the back of your neck, and before you can catch your breath, her lips are back on yours.
her kisses are frantic and demanding, her teeth digging into your bottom lip as her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling sharply. and you can't help but groan, the sound muffled by her mouth, and press her hips further against hers, grinding against her.
you pull away from her mouth, trailing kisses along her jawline, down the skin of her neck, before nipping at her collarbone. she moans softly, tilting her head back to give you more access.
her skin is smooth under your lips, and you lose yourself in the sound of her ragged breathing, in the way she shudders as you bite down and lick at the spot just below her collarbone. when you pull away, there's a dark mark left behind.
the sight makes you grin, a surge of pride filling your chest.
minjeong grips the counter, arching her back, and lets out a frustrated whine when the silk material of her gown is the only thing separating your hand from her cunt.
"off," she hisses.
"don't tell me what to do."
"fuck," she gasps. "please."
and maybe the pleading is too much because the next moment, you're rolling the fabric above her hips, leaving her completely bare underneath her robe, and she doesn't protest. you waste no time pulling away from her, the cold air hitting your face as you drop to your knees, ignoring the hard floor.
minjeong sucks in a sharp breath as you disappear from her view, and you smirk up at her. "no protests?" you tease.
"just shut up and—"
you cut her off, leaning forward and licking a strip through her cunt, drawing a moan out of her. your tongue is soft and warm and teasing, and you revel in the way her knuckles go white as she grips the edge of the counter, her eyes falling shut.
it's a shame, almost disgraceful, that you went two years without the taste of her. her taste is like a drug and a cure at the same time, familiar and addicting. she's wet and dripping, and all you want to do is drown. so, you dive back in, letting her nails scratch at the back of your neck, her other hand slipping under her own gown.
"fuck, right there, right there," she moans, her hips jerking involuntarily.
her eyes flutter open, and you're so focused on how her brow is furrowed, the way her mouth hangs open, and the sounds coming from the back of her throat that you're not expecting the pressure on top of your head.
when you look up, you find her palm is pressed flat on the top of your skull. it's not a push or a shove, just a hint.
a demand.
a plea.
and if you had the ability to deny her anything, you would. but you can't, and so, you wrap an arm around her thigh and lift her leg, settling it over your shoulder. you lean in, burying your face between her legs, and set a steady pace, alternating between long, broad strokes and short, teasing circles.
minjeong's breathing is ragged now, her gasps like tiny explosions in your ears. you want it to last forever; you want to burn this moment into your memory, into your soul. your free hand grips her hip, holding her steady, as your tongue licks up, finding her clit, and—
"oh my fucking god," she hisses.
you pull back with a sharp gasp, two fingers immediately pushing past her entrance. there's a brief moment, barely a second, where her eyes lock onto yours, a flash of surprise crossing her features.
then her head falls back, and her back arches, and the world spins a little. her hand is still on your head, and you can feel her fingers tightening in your hair, her pulling so hard to the point she might actually rip a few strands out.
"you're gonna make me come," she pants, her voice strained.
“i’ve missed you.”
minjeong chokes out a sob. "what?" you suck lightly on her clit, relishing in the way she shudders beneath you. "fuck, i can't think straight," she whines, her hips moving frantically, seeking friction.
"i've missed you." you repeat, whispering the three words against her skin.
she doesn't get to answer. her orgasm hits her seconds later, and her body shakes, her legs trembling, her arms grabbing at the edge of the kitchen island. a loud groan rips through her chest.
"holy shit," she breathes.
her chest rises and falls rapidly, and her thighs tremble, and she looks down at you with half-lidded eyes.
"i missed you too, idiot," minjeong murmurs, her voice shaky.
there's a softness in her eyes. the kind that used to be reserved for late nights and early mornings, when neither of you knew how to navigate a relationship or love, and all you needed was each other.
"can i have another minute?" she asks, her voice hoarse.
"take whatever time you need," you say.
