ᘏᘏ thirsty bunn thursdays
male reader x winter/kim minjeong (aespa) ※ more of my works on fanprose. This piece is a nod to @xndrpndr
“You’ve been well?” Minjeong coos as her fingers card through your hair.
“Yeah, of course.”
“While I wasn’t here?”
You tilt your head. “Yeah…?”
“Think about it once more.” The silence drops like a bomb has just sucked the sound out of the room—a you-just-seriously-said-that vacuum in the blast radius. Her nails scratch slow at your scalp as she waits for you to catch up.
You know this move; known this for more than two years. She has a plethora of ways to make you feel dumb—well, you are; it’s why you’re perplexed how you landed a goddess like Kim Minjeong. There is no argument you’ll win when she starts pulling off the next couple of moves.
“Have you been well?” she quietly asks again; she already knows what she wants to hear, and you’re just catching up now.
“Of… course… not…”
Her lips twist into a crooked smirk; one corner hooks upwards until her tiny nose crinkles. Her head slowly tilts while she looks at you like you are the most pitiful little puppy she has seen this year.
“That’s what I thought, baby.”
“Minjeo—”
“Three months.” Her fingers ponderously slide from your hair down to your jaw. “Three months, and you thought about me every night, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Her hand grips your face tighter. “Say it properly.”
“Every single night, babe.”
“Hm.” She pats your head like the good boy that you are, then kisses the corner of your lips, teasing you just enough to crave and salivate for more. “And what did you do about it, hm? Did you cry?”
“Minjeong…”
“Oh, tell me. You cried a little, didn’t you?”
“I did not cry.”
“Not even one manly tear? Like, into your pillow?”
“Just tell me what you want to hear, babe.”
“I want to hear you say what you did with your right hand every night.”
Her hand slides down your chest, past your stomach, to the front of your pants—where you are incredibly hard against the denim. Her palm adjusts to the shape of your hardening crotch.
“Fucked my own hand thinking about you, babe.”
“Every night?”
“Every night.”
“Mmhm. My poor baby~”
She lifts on her knees. Her tight black silk nightgown slides up her thighs. She reaches for the hem, pulls it over her head in one motion, and her perfect figure reveals itself to you with only her lacy panties protecting the treasure you have long been yearning for.
You have not seen her body in three months, and it is somehow more mesmerizing than you remembered. This is not a fair distribution of biological gifts
Truly, the gods have crafted a perfect being.
“Minjeong—”
“Shhh~”
She lowers herself back onto your lap, feeling the heat of her cunt crowd against the growing erection south of you. She grinds against you slow. Her pink nipples brush your chest through your shirt while her hands gently cradle your face.
“Baby, take this off.”
You pull your shirt over your head. She sighs when your chest touches hers.
“Ugh, I missed this,” she murmurs—then catches herself.
You let out a smirk; ahah, you know this bit. She has been doing it for two years—the nonchalant-I’m-meant-to-be-cool reset. She will do this a few more times before she gives up and lets her true emotions take over.
Almost on cue—“Oh my god, baby.”—there we go.
She reaches down, unbuttons your pants, hurriedly pulls them off along with the rest of your bottom wear, wraps her hand around you; so—fucking—warm, so perfect around your length. Her thumb drags across the tip, and her hand was the only one meant to hold your throbbing cock; so perfectly shaped around it.
“Babe—”
“You want it, baby?”
“Of-fucking-course, babe.”
“How badly?”
“Very.”
“Then say please.”
“God. Please, babe.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me fuck you.”
She scoffs. “Baby, I have been imagining this for three months, you know? I get to be the one doing the fucking, and you just get to be the one apologizing.”
“Apologizing for what, now?”
“For not flying out to Seoul last month.”
“Minjeong, I had work—”
“Apologize anyway.”
“I’m sorry, babe.”
“Mhm. Good enough.”
She pulls her panties aside—does not take them off—and lines her needy slit up; then, sinks slowly. You see your cock slowly disappearing into her cunt, and you feel the slick, velvety, tight walls of her accept you fully. She takes all of you in one long slide, and her breath catches for half a second before she recovers.
“There. That’s better.”
She starts to move, and you feel all of her insides working your cock. Her hand cradles your face, and her eyes are fixed on yours the whole time.
“You missed this?” She susurrates. “You miss making me yours?”
“Yes.”
“Say what you missed the most.”
“I can’t choose.”
“Say them all anyway.”
“Your fucking hot body—” You feel her walls tighten. “—your mouth—” She moans louder on every thrust. “—every fucking part of you that I own.”
Her rhythm falters, briefly for one stroke; then catches it.
“Mhmm. Good.”
She rides you in a tempo that keeps you crazy: Slow at first, then faster. With each beat, her tits bounce, and all you can do is admire the piece of work molded to fit you. Her hair falls into her eyes, her hands produce scratches all over your body, and her cheeks are flushed with arousal.
“Look at me, baby.”
“My eyes are all yours.”
“You’re mine, okay?”
“Of course.”
“Give it some more conviction!”
“My life is all yours, Minjeong, and you are mine.”
“Good boy.”
She rides harder; thighs flexing on either side of your hips. You do your best not to ruin her pace—making sure she feels in control—but your hand goes to her waist without permission.
She grabs both your wrists, pulls them off, then pins them to the bed above your head.
“Nooooo, baby. Did I say you could hold me?”
“No.”
“That’s right.”
She keeps riding you hard, your wrists still pinned. Her mouth is close to yours but not kissing, just trying to catch her breath at every thrust.
“Baby—” Then—small, sudden—her composure cracks. She kisses you: Deep, hungry, and desperate. Her mouth is chasing back the past three months where her lips were looking for yours.
Her hips move faster—she stops pretending; her hands leave your wrists. She wraps her arms around your neck and holds on.
“Uhhh, baby—”
“Yes, babe?”
“I missed you. I miss your stupid laugh.”
“Eh?”
She lets out a giggle in between her sweet moans.
“I miss your dumb jokes.”
“Like the one about the bee?”
“Oh, shut up. You’re ruining the moment.”
“Babe—”
“I missed pretending I hate you. Missed how you take care of me. Missed how you make me feel safe. Missed—”
You cut her off; you kiss her because if she keeps going, you know one of you (mostly you) will start tearing up.
Her lips aggressively kiss you back. Her rhythm hits its stride while her forehead leans against yours.
“Baby, I’m—”
“Me too, babe. Let’s cum together.”
Both of you moan in an imperfect unison; she cums on your cock, and you release every little bit of your seed inside of her—your juices creating a concoction inside of her enough to create new life, probably. She screams onto your neck, and her cunt locks you down and squeezes you further—deep inside of her, filling her the way she has been aching for since Seoul.
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, babe.”
She lifts her head, looks at you, and her mouth twists into a crooked smirk again; that same bratty look that never fails to get you in a chokehold.
“Do not tell anyone I said that first.”
“I would never.”
“Good boy.” She kisses you, slower this time. Then, against your mouth: “Now, ruin my life and put a baby inside of me.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Her susurrations only mean one thing: she’s serious about this.
“You… sure, babe?”
“Do I not sound sure?”
comment an idol you’d want featured on thirsty bunn thursdays and I’ll feature them in the next installment. thirsty bunn thursdays are now also on fanprose.
smut, 2.9k words
A/N: eyes & edits by @capslocked
read it on fanprose
“Running’s the warmup,” she argues.
“So, you mean to tell me that everyone here is in on… all of it?” You look over at the group, incredulous.
“Absolutely fucking everyone.”
You’re not entirely incredulous; it’s just hard to grasp. There’s at least twenty people standing in front of you both, most of them couples. She, however, was standing alone.
You hum. Muse. “Do you—” how do you really want to word this? “Are you like—fuck.”
She’s tilting her head, waiting; raises a brow. “Am I a good fuck?”
“Yes, that, actually,” you intone not-so-sarcastically, accepting the opportunity. “But also, are you single?”
“Is this how you hit on women?”
“Everyone’s paired up,” you try. “Who are you swinging with, I guess is what I’m asking.”
“Oh, none of those people. No orgies for me, either.” She takes a swig of her water bottle and begins to stretch: long legs—as long as her small frame allows for—crew socks, and shoes that look like they have not touched pavement until today. Pink runners because she's got chasing a runner's aesthetic, a runner's physique; everyone here is advertising the stamina, apparently.
“There’s orgies.” You echo.
“Like once a month.” Every other stretch, her large, branded tee raises enough to get a peek at the compression shorts halfway up her slender thighs.
“Sundays after church, or?”
“That’s when we do brunch,” she says. “There’s a mailing list.”
You scoff. “Fuck off.”
You both laugh and stare at the gathered crowd again. They’re stretching, talking, mingling. It’s a group bonding experience, at its most innocent—little to no subtlety, otherwise. Half of them sport rings, the kind that refer to legal status, yet they’re all a little too cordial with one another. You can spot abnormally comfortably touching and greetings and there’s this general familiarity with some groups of four that really does scream that they’re fucking each other’s spouse.
(Perhaps the brunette spilling all the details gave you a biased narrative, but yes, this is how you find out that the neighborhood running club is a front. When were they planning to outright tell you, exactly?)
“So,” you say, “you’re actually here for the running?”
“I told you, that’s the warmup.”
You realize she’s playing a game, that the answer to your previous question is no, and ask openly: “then, who’s going home with you?”
“Stray dogs like me.” The sunrise hits her face with a strong, orange glow. “Like you.”
~~
The coincidence of convenience isn’t lost on you. Her apartment’s on the way back from the jog and her name is Minjeong; she says it through hurried breaths and it has you realizing that it’s a preview for when she’s on your lap, under your figure—a preview for just about every position and preposition you’ll find yourselves trying later.
You take note of the perspiration on her brow, the light sheen, really. Minjeong doesn’t break a sweat all that much. She doesn’t try to. You remember what she kept insisting on earlier: that the whole running club is a front and that the workout’s just the fucking pregame. It’s not like she needs any extra cardio, either. There’s not forty-five kilos on the woman. You surmise that rather quickly as you carry her through the door.
“Where?” You ask, coming off of her lips, out of breath.
“Living room's got a sofa," she says, like that works for her, a coffee table and an ottoman too. The rug will be as good a spot as any, comes the implication.
She has her arms wrapped around you since before you unlocked the door, flipping stray, brown locks out of the way as you step in while looking over her shoulder. It’s a spacious place—makes you wonder about rent, because you always do in this economy, before finding yourself in front of her furniture. Kiss her a little longer before deciding: single seater or sectional? She’d look fucking great in either, wouldn’t she? Flipped over—bent over? Folded. Anything.
Minjeong’s thighs softly fill your palms with their pale and svelte figure; it all feels so tight, toned, yet so, so soft. So nice. You get a thought that she might need a warning label, a sticker of sorts, because it feels like you could break her if you drop her on the couch too suddenly. You’d place it just about anywhere, and it’d say handle with care, and you could see yourself pressing it with your thumb onto that smooth skin of hers to make sure it says there through all the fucking she’s about to go through—that it doesn’t flutter off when it gets fast, sweaty, and the thrusting gets a little unkind for a frame like hers.
You get so lost in the possibilities that she has to grip the back of your hair and rip you off of her lips.
"I know what I look like," she says into your mouth, hand at your nape and lips turning cherry-red. Lets the next kiss extend for a delightful too-long and her eyebrows do this really arch thing when she pulls away. “But I didn’t bring you all the way here just to, like, makeout.”
Flip a figurative coin. Sectional it is.
~~
(You do have to get back to the group after your little detour, but that’s not the reason it’s all in record time. See: you slot in, and it’s heaven—but don’t take your word for it.
Her eyes roll back like she hasn’t been stretched like that in months. Minjeong’s pretty vocal about it, too, which you’re certainly not getting over until at least next year. “Oh my fucking god,” she’s barely saying, mumbling, all winded. “Don’t stop.”
And you oblige, obey—can’t really tell in which direction authority’s being exercised. It’s tip-to-base. Lethal for both. She’s been placed on nearly every surface that’s remotely hip-height and convenient and you’ll both agree later that the kitchen island’s probably your favorite.)
~~
The club meets at least twice a week, barring any extracurricular activities, and you're already halfway through your first month.
That’s four times—you’ve had sex with Kim Minjeong four times.
But you’ve met five, today being the latest. She reads an invite from the club’s mailing list and you’re telling her to not say it so damn loudly. You’re at a restaurant; you’re on a date. To be fair, the wording isn’t explicit, but you’re elbow to elbow with other parties—families, couples, the like—laughing at the event’s theme and all of the innuendos.
Over appetizers, she tells you of all the times other couples have attempted to bring her back to theirs, how hot of a commodity she is. The hotshot twenty-five year old in a sea of marriages averaging over a decade her age.
“You like the attention.” You accuse.
“I—ok.” She’s nonplussed. Sits back. “No?”
“It’s vain.”
Her elbow goes on the counter, chin on the heel of her palm. She puffs her right cheek during the internal debate and you figure it’s a habit; confirm it somewhere down the line after you see it enough times. A cute, pensive pout. “It is.”
“Look at me,” you intone, mocking. “Young, pretty, and so unattainable.” And, credit where credit’s due, she does dress gorgeous. It’s the first time you don’t see her in workout-chic. Has this layered button-down under a polo with the sleeves rolled neatly-not above her elbows. There’s not a single piece of jewelry on her and that’s actually quite lovely. The modish simplicity takes you by surprise. There’s no better way to say it: you’re down bad. The sole leather shoulder bag to accessorize makes it feel like you’re the one tied up on the tanning rack, bound—already dead.
“Mmm, no.” She takes a fry off your plate. “I’m very much attainable.”
“To a select few.”
“To a very lucky few.” She reminds you.
“Lucky me.”
“Glad you’re clued in.”
There’s an eventual turning point where the conversation turns mundane, normal. You’re talking about all the things you have tried before that didn’t quite stick: crossfit, pilates, spin—christ—yoga.
You don’t mention sex, for once: no jokes, no deflecting emotional vulnerability in favor of wry, sexual humor—you talk, and learn more about each other in fifteen minutes than you ever would have otherwise, because the routine of run, fuck, leave was admittedly somewhat impersonal. It’s strange, but it’s the good kind of strange—the usual linear trajectory of meet first, fuck later turned on its head. You’ll be back to fucking each other’s brains out soon enough, anyway. It’s not an unwelcome change of pace.
“Feels like this is easier,” you’re eventually saying.
“Right,” she agrees. “Just show up and jog.”
“Just show up and jog.”
~~
So you made it back to her place, and you stayed over, and have been for a couple of days. She cleared a drawer for your things, your laptop has a permanent station at the dining table, and you have an inkling that the left side of her mattress already began molding to your shape.
You’re in that indentation right now.
“Like the way that feels?” She asks.
An affirming nod is all you manage. You’re doing everything in your power—communing with god, with the devil—to not fucking cum.
Her cunt is warm, devastating, and she keeps your tip right at the entrance while her hips continue this slow, subtle motion, circling above ever so slightly.
Every now and then it slips out just enough and, yeah, it’s audible: her arousal, creaming, waiting, equally as needy as you, but still wholly in control. You’re letting her nails claw at your chest and her long, straight locks frame her devilish countenance when she arches forward to let the next few breaths land right on your face. “I’m going to go deeper, yeah?”
You exhale, desperate.
Sinking, enveloping, her hips dip lower, vice-tight and going straight for the kill after way too long of just her hands and mouth and all that damn spit. “I want every last inch.”
~~
“Theoretically, if we were to go to one,” you start.
“So you’re interested.”
You hum tentatively. “No, not like that.”
“Also, we?” Minjeong asks
“Well—”
“I’m your plus one to an orgy?”
You shrug. “Yeah.”
“Cool.” She nods. “Better be.”
“We wouldn’t really join, anyway. The group.” You pick your argument back up. “Think I’d stay on the sidelines.”
“Voyeur. Kinky.”
“And an exhibitionist,” you add. “By extension.”
“Have you thought about this beforehand or did you just begin to list your kinks when you joined the depravity club?”
“Bit of both. Have to have my reasons now, you know, in case they asked.”
“And you’d be speaking for the both of us?” She starts to air quote. “Yeah, just the two of us. Yep, whoever wants to watch, I’ll be getting bounced on to death over in that corner.”
You think. Add on. “Would you rather show them your ass? While on top.” You’re speaking with your hands, pretend-holding her body towards an imagined crowd. “Or would you rather it be reverse, as in, spread towards them?”
Minjeong stays silent for a while longer than you would have expected; bursts into laughter. “I really don’t know.”
(She’s at the foot of the bed laying horizontal to you, who’s resting on the bed frame. Playfully, she hops over and on you, leg spread right over your crotch and leaning back with her hands by your legs.)
“What do you think will steal the spotlight more? This?” She takes a second, then flips over, putting her butt right on your cock. That underwear is tiny. “Or this?”
~~
Consider the follow-up scene and all of its details: you once heard how a picky eater should try something x amount of times in order to truly discern if they enjoy it or not. The variable tends to differ every time you hear the phrase, and the same concept probably doesn’t wholly apply to the current circumstance, but it's a tangential relation worth noting, nonetheless.
To start, her curtains are drawn wide open, hooked at either end. The glass goes floor-to-ceiling and you can’t deny that view—of the city, sure, but also of Minjeong, on her knees and laser-focused, hand pretty and veined and going blissfully fast over your throbbing length—this squelching fist that drips spit straight onto carpet.
Okay, the x count goes to one.
(Exhibitionism, apparently. It’s in front of the whole city, so it counts, no? There’s other buildings that are perhaps in line with how high up her place is, and the afternoon sun is shining into the apartment.)
Right. There she goes with that little moan of encouragement. Minjeong looks up, expectant, and her tongue’s out for the sake of performance. Ok honey, ouch.
You cum, all over that.
A sunbeam goes straight into your eyeball and, simultaneously, another rope shuts her eyelash to a close. It’s not really pretty, objectively. Sexually, it’s very fucking hot. Read: context-appropriate kind of filthy. She’s getting deservedly hosed.
(The rest goes everywhere, by the way: on her hair, her left cheek; runs liquid down to her chin. It’s tough to make it out in the heat of the moment. Maybe you’re going blind. She spits shallow when the concluding sprays make their way onto her tongue because you keep going far beyond your usual volume.)
“That’s—” Minjeong is covered, glazed, and entirely dumbfounded. She spits again, and cups her palm under her messed-up face to minimize the damage on her rug. “Are you good right now? What the fuck.”
You crack up. Breathing’s still catching up and you could lose your footing from a light breeze. “Oh my god.”
Spot her index swiping whatever it can off her sealed eyelid. “You are ridiculous.”
“Sorry,” you respond, sarcastic. “Didn’t want to drop the ball with your little experiment.”
“This is literally the most,” she says while standing up. “You have ever cummed.”
Her face glistens; you feel like laughing some more. It truly is incomprehensible.
“Gets turned on by showing off,” she sorta says to herself. “Cross that one off the list.”
Your rebuttal’s a quick and punctuated jab. “Sorry, honey.” You hand her a stray shirt for, you know, all that. “Will you be able to cum for a second time or do I have to finger you against the glass for it again?”
Yeah, that’s how it went, three fingers in and knuckle-deep. Her cunt stretched oh-so divine.
Spot the eye roll Minjeong gives you once enough white is swiped off her gaze. Ah, there—it’s not faux annoyance or ridicule that she’s looking to counter you with. She ponders on it for, like, a second too long, and her lips purse to subdue that pretty little naughty smile but the fucking way her body rolls into you starting from the womb when she inhales has you considering just how long your cock can stay hard to give her pussy another go, another orgasm, another round of her cheek—this time, cum-stained—against a window pane that points at two p.m. traffic.
“Gotcha.” You place a hand on her cocked hip and half-spin her frame towards the city. She doesn’t meet your eyes or dare to acknowledge it. How coy. “Open.” You instruct, and her legs follow suit, spread wide and keep straight.
It goes without saying but you cum for a second time in under two minutes and Minjeong catches up to you in even less than that.
~~
“I have rooftop access, pool and all,” she says some sleepless night later.
There’s a blanket in the middle of her living room and too much takeaway for two. All you do is nod, mouth full, and offer a hand to help her stand.
It’s open twenty-four seven, which further clues you in to her elusive net worth—leisure of the wealthy and carefree.
“I’m never up here,” Minjeong remarks, windswept.
Below, a metropolis draped dark and neon all the same. It’s well past bedtime for the working class—the streets are just that much calmer, nicer. You’re able to see a decent chunk of your biweekly circuit from where you stand.
Oh, important note: it’s not like you’ve been attending, as of late.
The small fee goes to waste when you pitch in for the usual group snacks and drinks and whatever else they decide to charge you for. You’ve been running the route with Minjeong, alone, enfolding further into that routine, or haphazardly falling for it: the scent in her sheets, of her shampoo; and, yeah, it’s been cute, but, it’s good to remember that you’ve also been keen on putting on a pseudo-anonymous show in front of her neighborhood and delighting yourselves in that newfound chemistry, however debased, demented.
You speak before a gust of wind whisks the thought away: “I think I really fucking like you.”
Realize the sentiment lands warm because even her eyes are smiling out at the view. She then laughs, mostly inwards. “I called you a stray dog.”
“You can call me—” take hold of her hands and have them meet and wrap around your neck. “Whatever the fuck you want.”
And, yeah, you’ll continue finding that balance along the way: the cute-hot, love-lust. You’ll oscillate, sink into the whirlpool of fucked-out adoration and heartstring-wringing devotion. Her gaze is fucking devastating and your fingers get lost in their favorite part of her back.
Minjeong steps close; allows herself to be pulled in. “I guess,” she starts, lips awfully close. It’s the first time you’ll ever kiss her like this. “I’ll call you mine.”
You woke up to the sound of someone trying and failing to be quiet, which for Karina meant clipping a cabinet door shut and a muttered curse that carried up the stairs better than any shout would have.
For a while you just lay there. The ceiling fan whirled above you, the same off-rhythm hitch it always had as light came through the curtains and laid itself across the foot of the bed. Your body had that scoured-out feeling that came after a night where you'd spent everything you had, and underneath it, lower down, the thing that had kept surfacing all night was still there.
Minjeong on the porch. Her head close enough that you could smell the mint and paint in her hair.
You'd buried your hand in Karina's hair after, on the sand, and stared past her shoulder at the beams of the tower, and the word your brain had handed you was fuck. Not because you regretted Karina. You didn't. It was that something had moved in your chest two days ago on those steps and refused to move back. You didn't have a name for it yet, but then again you weren't sure you wanted one.
You got up before the thoughts could settle in.
Downstairs, the house was already in motion. Mrs. Yoo stood at the counter doing something to a chicken with her bare hands, the radio played low, an old station that crackled whenever a truck went by outside. There was coffee, and the smell of it pulled you the rest of the way awake.
Karina sat sideways in a kitchen chair with one leg hooked over the armrest, phone in one hand, a piece of toast she wasn't eating in the other. She had your T-shirt on. She caught you clocking it and lifted her chin as if daring you to say something.
"Morning, sunshine," she said. "You look like roadkill."
"You're wearing my shirt."
"It was on the floor." She bit the toast, finally, like the conversation was over. "Possession is nine-tenths. Right, Omma?"
"I'm not getting involved in your laundry crimes," Mrs. Yoo said without turning around. Then, half to herself, half to the chicken: "The Baineses want their tent on the green again for Saturday. Same spot as last year, where it floods. I'll be refereeing that until I die."
"Tell them no," Karina said.
"You tell them no." Mrs. Yoo sighed. "I'll go round tonight and sort it before it becomes a feud."
You poured coffee. Karina watched you over the top of her phone, and there was something a little too bright in it, a little too on. She'd been like this last night at the fire too, you realized — talking a half-moment faster than the room, the jokes coming quicker, like if she kept the air full enough nobody would notice she'd handed you something real for about four seconds under the lifeguard tower and then snatched it back.
You're in deep now, you know that? she'd said. And then she'd reached for your fly, because that was easier than letting the sentence just sit there.
You took the chair across from her. "You sleep okay?"
"Like a baby," she said. "A baby who's seen things." She set the phone face-down. "You?"
"Out cold."
"Liar," she said pleasantly. "You've got the haunted look. The Jason-is-overthinking look. I can see it from here. It's very ugly. You should stop it."
"I'm not overthinking."
"You're overthinking right now about whether you're overthinking." She pointed the toast at you. "Rule number one, remember? You feel weird, you tell me. So." She raised her eyebrows. "Feeling weird?"
And there it was: the offer, made the way Karina made all her offers, wrapped in a joke so that if you took it seriously she could pretend she hadn't meant it.
"No," you said. "Just tired."
"Good." She seemed to relax at that. "Because I've got plans for you and they require you conscious."
"You always say that."
"And I always deliver." She swung her leg down off the armrest. "Eat something. You're scaring your mother-in-law."
"She's not my—"
"Eat," Mrs. Yoo said, and slid a plate in front of you, and that was the end of it.
-
The plans died before noon.
You were halfway through helping Mrs. Yoo carry folding tables out to the truck — for the meeting, for the signs, for whatever the day's particular fire turned out to be — when Minjeong came down the stairs two at a time with her phone pressed to her ear. Her face set in this specific blankness that meant something had gone badly wrong and she was not going to let it show until she'd decided what to do about it.
"When," she said into the phone. "Okay. And you're sure." A pause. "No, that's— Petey, that's fine, you did the right thing telling me. I owe you." She hung up and stood very still in the middle of the kitchen with her thumb still on the dark screen.
"What," Karina said.
"They moved the council session," Minjeong said. "It was Thursday. It's Tuesday now. Special session." She set the phone down on the table, carefully, the way you set down something you'd otherwise throw. "And Cole filed a letter of intent last week. To buy."
The kitchen went quiet. Even the radio seemed to drop.
"The town doesn't own all of it," Mrs. Yoo said. "The stalls are private. He can't—"
"He's not buying it from the town." Minjeong's jaw clenched. "He's got a seller already. Somebody local. Somebody who held a sign on the green two days ago and let me thank them." She said it flat, but you saw the effort it took to keep it like that. "I have until Tuesday to find out who and get in front of it, or I walk into that room and get blindsided in public, and we lose on optics before anybody says a word about the actual pier."
"So we find out who," you said.
She looked at you. For a second something flashed across her face, relief, maybe, that someone had just said we.
"So we find out who," she agreed.
Karina pushed up off her chair. "Okay," she said, and you could hear her recalibrating, finding the solution, the way she'd found it on the stage with the camera around her neck. "A traitor's actually good. People don't riot over zoning. They riot over a Judas. We lean into it. I can have something up online by tonight, get people angry, get them in that room Tuesday—"
"No," Minjeong said.
Karina stopped.
"Not yet," Minjeong said, gentler, but not by much. "If you blast it online before I know who it is, we burn the wrong person and it backfires and we look exactly as unprofessional as Cole keeps saying we are. I need to keep it quiet first. I need to talk to whoever it is before the whole town does." She rubbed her forehead. "This part has to be careful, Rina. Not loud."
It wasn't a cruelty. You were sure of that much. But you watched the words on Karina, and you watched her absorb them, and decide — fast, the way she decided everything — not to let it show.
"Sure," she said. "Careful. Right. Not my department." She picked her phone back up."I'll do the loud part when you're ready for it. You go be a detective." She tipped her head toward you. "Take him. He's good with sad old people. They love him. It's the face."
"Karina," Minjeong started.
"I'm serious, it's a compliment," Karina said, already drifting toward the back door, already halfway to somewhere else. "He's got a trustworthy face. People confess to him. It's annoying." She pulled the door open and let the morning in. "Have fun. Solve the crime. I'm going to go take pictures of something that doesn't make me want to scream."
The screen door clapped shut behind her.
For a second nobody said anything. Out the window you could see her crossing the yard toward the path down to the beach, phone already up, framing something: the water, the light, anything that wasn't this kitchen.
"She wants to help," you said.
"I know she does." Minjeong was already gathering her bag, her keys, the manila envelope she carried everywhere now as a shield. "That's the problem. She wants to help in the one way that would blow this up." She stopped, hand on the strap. "She's not wrong about you, though. With the face thing."
"I don't have a face thing."
"You absolutely have a face thing." She slung the bag over her shoulder. "Get your shoes. We're going to see a man about an arcade."
-
The truck's AC had died sometime during a previous administration, so you drove with the windows down and the hot wind doing most of the talking. Minjeong sat with the envelope on her knees and a legal pad on top of it, and she didn't fill the silence the way Karina would have. She just looked out at the road, at the crooked mailboxes and the sliver of sea, and let the quiet be.
You'd ridden in cars with both sisters a hundred times across a hundred summers. Karina narrated. She pointed at things, she made you slow down so she could yell something at someone she knew, she changed the music every ninety seconds. Minjeong navigated. She watched the turns coming before you did and told you about them a second early, and the rest of the time she let you think.
"It's Hal," she said eventually, when you were nearly there. "I'm ninety percent sure. The arcade. His lease runs longest, his building's the biggest single private piece, and his knees gave out two summers ago so he can't even get up the pier stairs anymore. It makes sense.”
"You knew before Petey called."
"I suspected." She turned the legal pad over so she wasn't looking at her own handwriting. "I've been not-thinking about it for a week. It’s the same as knowing." She glanced at you. "Don't tell Karina I said it makes sense. She needs him to be a villain. It's easier for her if people are villains."
"And for you?"
She paused for a few moments. “It's worse if they're not," she said at last. "Villains you can fight. Hal I have to—" She gestured vaguely at the windshield. "I have to go sit with an old man who's broke and scared and not wrong, and ask him to stay broke and scared for the good of a town that's never once fixed his roof. That's the job today." She looked back out the window. "Pull in here. Don't park out front, he'll see the truck and pretend he's not home."
The arcade was dark inside, the machines dead, a single portable fan pushing warm air across a folding chair where Hal Brenner sat like he'd been expecting you for a week and dreading it the whole time. He saw Minjeong and didn't get up. His knees, you remembered.
"Minjeong," he said, and sighed, a long whistling sound through his nose. "You here to yell at me, sweetheart?"
"No," she said.
You braced yourself for the argument. You'd seen her on the stage alongside Karina; you knew she had the speech in her, the splinters-and-first-kisses speech, the one that made Mrs. Yoo cry and shut Scout up. You expected her to deploy it.
Instead she pulled the second folding chair across the worn carpet, legs scraping loud in the dead quiet, and set it down directly in front of him, close, knees almost touching his, and she sat. She put the envelope on the floor. She put herself down at his level, in the dark, and she didn't say one word about the pier.
"Tell me about Denver," she said.
Hal blinked. "What?"
"Your grandkids. They're in Denver. You show everybody the pictures every Christmas." She leaned in, elbows on her knees. "How old are they now?"
Hal started talking — slow at first, suspicious, then less so — about a granddaughter who'd made some team, a grandson he hadn't seen in fourteen months, the cost of a flight, the cost of everything. And Minjeong listened. Not the fake listening that's just waiting for your turn. She listened as if it was the only thing she'd come to do.
"It's not about the money," Hal said. "I'm seventy-one. I can't fix that roof. The town can't fix that roof. Your signs are real pretty, but they don't fix the roof either." He spread his hands. "Cole showed up with a checkbook. Everybody else showed up with a casserole. You want me to turn down the only person who came with a check, for a town that's let me rot in here for ten years."
You watched Minjeong take all of it in without as much as a flinch.
"You're right about the roof," she said.
Hal tilted his head.
"You're not wrong about any of it," she said. "We've been broke for ten years and I've been pretending three weeks of grant paperwork could fix what ten years didn't. So no. You're not the bad guy, Hal. You're the only honest one in this whole thing." She let out a breath. "But you sign with him and he doesn't fix your roof. He knocks the building down and pours a new one with somebody else standing under it. You're selling him the door. And every single thing that comes through it after you're gone."
Hal looked at his hands.
"Tuesday," Minjeong said, "you can stand up in that room and say everything you just said to me. The roof. The money. The casseroles. And I won't fight you on one word of it, because it's all true, and you deserve to say it to the town's face. I'll stand up and back you." She leaned in another inch. "Or you let Cole stand up and use your name like a crowbar, and never once say it the way you just said it to me. Your call. But you should get to be the one who says it. Not him."
The fan whirred. Somewhere outside a gull complained.
Hal didn't say yes. But when you left, he didn't say no.
In the truck she didn't put her seatbelt on right away. She sat with her hands in her lap and stared through the cracked windshield at the brick wall of the building.
"That was the most impressive thing I've ever seen," you said.
She huffed. "It was begging. Dressed up nice."
"It was not begging." You turned in the seat to look at her. "You gave a scared old man a way to be brave instead of ashamed. That's not begging. That's—" You stopped, because the word you wanted felt wrong on your tongue.
She was silent for a second too long.
"Don't," she said.
"What?"
"You're doing the face." She finally reached for her seatbelt, pulled it across, fumbled the buckle. You watched her hands not quite work — Minjeong, who folded receipts and wrote attentive notes and did six things at once without looking — and without thinking about it you reached over and took the buckle out of her fingers and clicked it home.
She froze.
Catching her off balance felt wrong, especially with something as mundane as fastening a seatbelt. But there she was, looking at the place where your hand had been wearing a look of pure, stunned confusion.
And that was when you understood. Nobody did this for her. Ever. She was the one who buckled other people in. She was the one who carried the envelope and made the calls and sat in the dark with the scared old men. There was no version of Minjeong's life where someone reached over and did the small thing so she didn't have to.
"Thanks," she said, and it came out rough, like she'd had to find the word in a drawer she didn't open often.
"Yeah," you said.
She started the truck. Neither of you mentioned it, but the temperature inside the truck had changed, and while you both knew it, neither of you said anything.
-
You reached the community center somewhere in the afternoon, where time was broken into tasks instead of hours.
You needed the relief, frankly. The truck had left you with a feeling you didn't want to examine in detail, and the center was loud and full of people who needed things carried, which was exactly the kind of problem you knew how to solve.
Scout found you within ninety seconds.
"Dude." He skidded up on his board, shoes untied as always. "Okay so I heard Cole moved the meeting because he's scared, is that true, did Min make him scared—"
"Min makes everyone scared," you said.
"I heard that," Minjeong called from across the room, where she was up on a chair pinning a banner and directing two middle-schoolers and Nana Lou simultaneously without even glancing at them.
"It's a compliment," you called back.
"It better be."
Nana Lou cornered you at the brush-washing sink twenty minutes later.
"You went to see Hal," she said, and you were pretty sure it wasn’t a question.
"Min did the work. I was just there for moral support."
"Mm." She rinsed a brush, watching the water go gray. "She handle it gentle?"
"Very."
"Good." Nana Lou shook the water off. "That girl. You know she hasn't taken a real day off since the spring? I keep telling her, Minjeong, the pier'll fall in the ocean with or without you, you might as well sleep." She set the brush in the rack. "She thinks if she stops moving the whole thing comes down. Has thought that for about two years now." She gave you a sideways look. "You know how draining that is, to carry a town and never set it down?"
"No," you said honestly.
"No," she agreed. "Nobody does." She dried her hands. "She won't let you carry any of it, either. So don't bother offering. Just—" She paused, and for once the gossip-gleam was gone from her eyes. "Just notice when she's tired. Most people don't. She's real good at not letting them."
You dried the last brush in silence and didn't tell her that you'd noticed in the truck, with a seatbelt buckle, the exact flinch of a person who'd never once been allowed to be the one who got taken care of.
-
Your phone buzzed late in the afternoon. Karina.
how's the great detective work. solve it yet
You typed back: we think it's hal. min talked to him. went ok i think.
Three bubbles stacked up:
HAL. the ARCADE GUY. i let that man win me a goldfish in 2019
ok wait is min ok. she always acts like she’s fine but then doesn't sleep for a week
tell her i said the goldfish died btw. it died of betrayal
You stood in the noise of the center, kids and paint and Scout's terrible music, and looked at the phone. Karina had no idea you'd spent the day three feet from Minjeong, watching the woman unravel in increments only you seemed to be counting. She trusted you with her sister the way you hand over a knife blade-down, never thinking about whether it could turn.
she's tired but ok, you wrote. i'll make sure she eats.
good boy, Karina sent back. that's literally why i sent you. ten points.
A second later: not coming home tonight btw. party out past the point, i'll crash wherever. don't wait up
You put the phone in your pocket. Across the room, Minjeong climbed down off the chair, pushed her hair off her forehead with the back of her wrist, and checked if a banner was straight. It was, but she straightened it again anyway. She caught you looking. You waved at her, grinning. She waved back, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
You thought back to what Nana Lou had said. Just notice when she's tired.
You'd noticed.
-
The detective work wasn’t over. While the Hal situation was ninety percent solved, that wasn't a number Minjeong could just sit on until Tuesday came. So the rest of the day became a slow grind of phone calls she made from the corner of the center. Who else holds a private lease. Who's been quiet lately. Who stopped showing up. By six the building had emptied out, the kids dragged home by parents, Scout off to terrorize the skate park, and Nana Lou gone with a casserole dish she'd arrived with full and left with empty.
It was just the two of you now.
"You should eat," you said.
"I'll eat at home."
"You said that at noon. You didn't eat at noon."
She looked up from her phone. "Are you keeping track of my meals now?"
"Apparently." You had found a vending machine in the hall. It took three tries to register a dollar, but you eventually managed to buy a sad little packet of crackers and a granola bar. You set them on the table in front of her. "It's this or nothing."
"I'm fine. I'll eat when I get home."
"You won't, though. You'll get home and there'll be one more thing, then one more thing, and then it'll be midnight." You pushed the crackers an inch closer. "It's a dollar's worth of crackers, Minjeong. You're allowed to lose this one."
She stared at the crackers like they were a riddle, not saying anything for a good while.
"Thanks," she said finally, and opened them, and ate one, and you pretended not to watch her do it.
-
You walked back instead of driving. The truck stayed in the lot; she said she wanted the air, and you didn't argue, because the truth was you wanted it too.
The sun was doing what it did at the end of all these days, going gold and then bruised at the edges. The breeze brought to you the smell of hot tar cooling and salt. You walked a half-step behind her, your mind racing in circles as you tried to find the right question.
"Can I ask you something," you said, "and you promise not to make it weird?"
She snorted. "Very funny. You’re copying me now?"
"You’re not the worst person to copy."
"True, I am not.” She kept walking, sandals slapping on the warm pavement. "Fine. Ask. But I’ll make no promises about the weirdness.”
You walked another few steps before you found the right words.
"How long has it been since something wasn't your job?"
She slowed. The fence behind the post office came up on her left, the one you'd both hopped a hundred summers, and set her hand flat on the top rail without climbing it.
"That's a strange question."
"You said you'd eat at home. You said it twice and meant it neither time. You fed half that center today and the only thing you put in your own mouth was crackers I had to argue you into." You stopped. "I'm not trying to lecture you. I'm asking. When was the last time you let the heavy stuff be someone else’s problem?"
A car went past, headlights dragging across you both and gone.
"You're going to laugh," she said.
"I won't."
"I don't actually know the answer." She chuckled. "I keep waiting for an example to pop up and it just doesn't." She tilted her head, considering it from the outside. "That's bleak, isn't it?"
"It's pretty bleak."
She turned, putting her back against the fence, and in the porch-light coming on down the row her face seemed to… loosen up, some bolt she kept torqued down giving a quarter-turn.
"Everyone thinks they know the sad part of the cliffs," she said. "They think it's that Karina hated me after. And she did. But that's not it." She crossed her arms. "The sad part is I found out I was good at it. Being the one person who stays calm while everyone else comes apart. I'd never been good at anything Karina wasn't better at, and then there was this one thing, and it was that, and people started looking at me like I could handle the difficult stuff. And there's no putting it down after. Once you're the one who carries it, you carry it. Nobody reads you the terms. You just sign the first time and that's the rest of your life."
"That sounds more like a sentence than a contract.”
"I'd take it back if I could take back only the part where I'm good at it," she said. "But I can't, because that's the only part that's ever felt like—" She stopped herself, heard the sentence coming and refused to finish it. "And now I'm saying too much on a dark street and tomorrow I have to look at you across the table. This is why I do this type of stuff."
She pushed off the fence and started walking. You didn't catch her arm, didn't reach for her hair, didn't do any of the things hands reach to do at a moment like that. You only failed to step out of her way, so that forward meant going past you. She didn't go past you.
"You don't have to keep it in," you said. "You can leave it here on the street. Carrying things is the one thing we’re both good at. So maybe we can carry it together."
She didn't answer. You'd handed her a way to leave it unfinished and she took it, slowly, like setting down something she'd already half-lifted.
"This is exactly why I avoid walking back home.” She pushed her hair back. "Forget everything I said."
"I'm not going to forget it."
"Of course you’re not."
-
You came up on the house from the back. The windows were lit, but you could tell it was empty — no shadows behind the curtains, no sound. Four doors down, the Baineses' was a different story. You could hear it. The whole street could; a dozen people and Mrs. Yoo, arguing about a square of grass.
Minjeong stopped at the bottom of the porch steps. She looked at the lit, empty house, then down the street at the noise.
"They'll be there for hours," she said, not quite to you.
"Probably."
"Mom won't leave till the tent's resolved. And that's not happening." Her hand found the railing, the one that dipped on the left. "I should go help."
She looked at the noise down the street for a moment longer. Then she took her hand off the railing.
"They don't need me for a tent," she said, and went up the steps.
She put the kettle on first thing. You stood in the kitchen doorway and watched her fill it, set it, click the burner. Even now, her hands needed a job.
Then she pulled out a chair, sat, and opened the laptop.
"You're working?" you asked.
"I'm always working." The blue light put hard shadows under her eyes. "I want to get everything prepared before Tuesday. I know it’s Hal, but I still need the lease records pulled, and the office is closed tomorrow, so it has to be tonight, and—" She was already scrolling. "I have to lead with him being sympathetic instead of letting Cole frame him as a partner. But I have to get the timeline perfect or it falls apart."
"Minjeong."
"What."
"It's almost ten. You've been working since six this morning."
"I know what time it is." She didn't look up. "I do this every night. If I don't have the timeline by Tuesday I lose the room, and if I lose the room Cole wins on optics, and if he wins on optics the council folds, and then it doesn't matter how many people I get on the green—"
You crossed the kitchen and closed the laptop.
Not slammed. You just reached over her shoulder and brought the lid down, slow, until it clicked, and the blue light went out. The kitchen was just a kitchen again, the kettle starting to tick as it heated.
To your surprise, she didn't snatch the laptop back. She just sat there looking at the closed lid like it had been taken from her by someone who had no right to and she couldn't work out whether she should kill you swiftly or take her time with it.
"It can wait an hour," you said.
"It can't, though. That's what nobody—" She stopped. Her hands were flat on the closed laptop. "Nobody ever lets me explain that it actually can't."
"I'm not saying it doesn't matter. I'm saying you can sit down for one hour and it'll still be there." You took the chair beside her. "You've stopped for thirty seconds now. Look around. Nothing happened. The townspeople are still out there arguing about the tent. The roof didn’t fall on us. You're allowed to sit in a chair for one hour and none of it vanishes."
She let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "That's annoying. You being right."
"It happens occasionally."
"It doesn't have to happen to me, though.”
Her hands slid off the laptop and settled into her lap. She leaned back into the chair, staring at the closed lid like it belonged to somebody else tonight.
The kettle began to whistle.
"You can sit there," you said. "I'll get it."
She leaned forward, almost arguing back and getting up from the chair, but you got up first, grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her back down. “I said I’ll get it,” you repeated.
“This is going to be very annoying, isn’t it?” she asked. “You being like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like me.”
You went to the cupboard, got two mugs down, and filled them with tea.
After you made sure the mugs were cool enough to hold, you set her tea down in front of her. She had both hands around the mug before it even touched the table, then gave you an appreciative look before sighing:
“I have a question… Why did you come back this summer?”
You shrugged. “Well, there isn’t much to it. I just needed a job.”
“You needed a job?”
“People do, occasionally.”
She set the mug down and looked at you properly. “You’ve got a whole life waiting outside this town, a degree and all, but you threw that away to check bolts at two in the morning for a pier that might not exist by September. So. Try again.”
You turned the mug in your hands, which bought you a few seconds, but nothing more. She waited, her gaze locked onto you. She was good at waiting, you’d seen it with Hal.
So you had to give her an honest answer — a truth, or at least a half-truth — anything else and she’d call bullshit on you. You weren’t going to give her the whole, messy story, because that story had two halves, and one of them sat across the table with her small hands around a mug while the other was out partying. You couldn’t hand over the first half without the second coming up.
"I didn't like who I was out there," you said. "I was always halfway out the door of wherever I was. Already gone before I'd even left." You cleared your throat. "Here I'm just here. I don’t have to overthink whether I’m in the wrong place."
She didn't say anything for a second. Just played with her mug, raised it to her lips and took a small sip.
"Okay," she said. "That I believe. Honestly, sometimes I also feel—"
She didn't get to finish.
The mug slipped through her fingers. Maybe her hand was tired — it had been a fist around a phone all day — or maybe she'd just stopped paying attention to the one thing she always paid attention to, which was holding herself together. Either way her grip went, the mug rolled off the side of her palm before either of you could reach for it, and it hit the floor between your chairs and came apart.
The handle skittered off under the table and the rest of it burst into pieces, tea fanning out across the tile in a dark spreading shape.
“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath. Then she dipped down and, maybe on reflex, reached for whatever was left of the mug.
“Wait—” you said, too late.
Her fingers closed on a piece of it wrong.
She made a small sound, more surprise than pain, and pulled her hand back, a line of red opening up across the side of her thumb where the edge had caught her.
"Okay," she said to the cut. "That's—okay. That's fine."
"That is not fine.” You were already up, already moving the chair back, crouching to get between her and the mess before she could go after the rest of it barehanded. "Leave it. The mug can wait. Give me your hand."
"It's a kitchen accident, Jason, I've just cut myself on—"
"Give me your hand."
She gave you her hand.
The cut wasn't bad. Shallow, an inch maybe, already beading up along the edge of her thumb. You turned her hand toward the light over the table to see it better, and her fingers were cold in yours, the way you’d expect her touch to feel, the cold of someone who never quite warmed up because she never sat still long enough to.
"It's not deep," you said. "You'll live."
"I know," she grimaced. Then she tried to pull her hand back, but you didn’t let go. “I already told you I’m fine.”
"There's a first-aid kit somewhere in this house. Don't move."
"I wasn't going to clean it up," she said, which was a lie, and you both knew it was a lie.
"You were absolutely going to clean it up. You were going to bleed onto the floor while you did it and then pretend everything was fine." You found a clean dish towel hanging off the oven door, ran the corner of it under the tap, and crouched down in front of her chair so you were looking up at her. "Hand."
She put it back in yours.
You pressed the cool cloth to the cut and held it there, gentle, your thumb bracketing her wrist to keep her steady. She didn't pull away. She didn't say anything either. The kitchen had gone very quiet — the tent argument down the street had finally died, or you'd stopped hearing it — and there was just the small wet sound of the cloth and the tick of the cooling kettle and her breathing, which had gone uneven.
You looked up at her.
She was already looking at you.
"Jason," she said quietly.
"Yeah."
"Why are you doing this?"
"You're bleeding."
She lowered herself next to you, hand still in yours and said, "That's not what I'm asking and you know it isn't." She peered at your face in that serious way of hers.
The bleeding had already stopped; you were just keeping her hand because keeping her hand was the only honest thing you'd done all night.
"Nobody does this," she said, almost to herself. "I do this. For other people. I'm the one who finds the towel and tells everybody it's fine." Her eyes went over your face, cautious, like she was reading something off it she didn't want to find. "And I keep landing on two reasons a person would be down on a kitchen floor holding my hand. One of them's nice. The other one I don't—"
She trailed off.
"Minjeong. There's something I should—"
"Don't."
Her free hand came up — not to your mouth, not even touching you, just up, flat in the space between you.
You stopped.
"Whatever it is, it can wait till morning. I've had the whole town in my hands since this morning. The pier, and Hal, and Cole, and the meeting, and—everything. All day. And for about five minutes, on this floor, I got to put it down." Her thumb moved against yours, careful of the cut. "Don't give me one more thing to manage tonight. Please. Just this once let me not know something."
You could hear your heart pounding in your ears.
She thought she was asking a friend to spare her one bad night. She didn’t know that what she was asking you not to tell her about had a name and that name belonged to her sister, who was out past the point at some party, trusting you to look after Minjeong.
You could stop it. One word. You knew the word.
You didn’t say the word.
"Okay," you said.
She pressed her forehead against yours. “We’re really doing this?”
Another out.
You should have used it. You should have pushed her away, and taken a deep breath, and splashed cold water over your face until you regained the slightest bit of self-control.
A better man would have.
Instead, you lifted her hand and pressed your lips to the inside of her wrist, her pulse jumping hard under your mouth.
“Only if you want us to,” you said against her skin.
“I do.”
You walked her upstairs, every creak of the old steps ringing louder than you remembered. On the fifth step she tugged on your shirt and stopped you in your tracks before pressing your back against the banister.
“Minjeong,” you said.
Apparently, she took the word as a sign of hesitation, because she didn’t give you any time to think. Her fingers twisted in the back of your hair, pulling your mouth into hers and whispering into your mouth, “Just–let me have this.”
That’s when the last drop of hesitation disappeared.
You kissed her back, hands sliding under the hem of her sundress to grip her waist. It was wet, and messy, and it felt both so wrong and so right. That was how you led her to her bedroom, where the moonlight cut across the room, illuminating the grey bed sheets.
You closed the door and turned to her.
She stood there, suddenly shy, arms half-crossed. “This feels… different than I thought it would.”
“Good different?” you asked, stepping closer.
She nodded. “Scary different.”
You kissed her slowly, coaxing her hands down. “We can go as slow as you need.”
Your fingers found the straps of her sundress and slid them off her shoulders. Once the fabric dropped on the hardwood floor, there was a couple long moments where time seemed to have stopped, and you used those moments to take in curve of her body.
“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmured.
Minjeong shifted at the words, an uncharacteristically sheepish smile pulling at her mouth. She took your arm and steered you toward the bed.
You get her down onto the bed beneath the moonlight, your hands already traveling up her thighs and onto her hips. The grey sheets bunched under her back as she lay there, looking up at you with those wide, serious eyes. You sat back far enough to pull your shirt over your head. Her eyes tracked every movement, focusing as they moved over your chest and shoulders. She reached up, palms sliding over your skin, learning your body the way she does everything: deliberate and methodical.
“You’re warm,” she whispered. Her fingers traced the line of your stomach. “I’ve always imagined you to be colder.”
You leaned down and kissed her again, slower this time, while your hands explored her body. You cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples until she arched into your touch with a soft moan.
“Like that?” you asked.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Harder. I like when you’re a little rough with them.”
You pinched her nipples gently, rolling them between your fingers. She whimpered, legs shifting restlessly underneath you. You lowered your head and took one nipple into your mouth, sucking and flicking your tongue over the sensitive tip while your hand worked the other.
“Fuck…” Her back arched. “You know how to use your tongue.”
You switched between breasts, licking and sucking until she was squirming and gasping. Only then did you swipe one hand down between her legs. She was soaked, slick heat coating your fingers the second you touched her.
“Well aren’t you dripping,” you murmured against her nipple.
“I know… I can’t help it with you touching me like this.”
That’s what you wanted to hear. You circled her clit slowly with two fingers, teasing. She bit her lip, trying to stay quiet, but small desperate sounds kept escaping. You kissed down her stomach, taking your time, until your shoulders were between her thighs.
“Can I lick here?” you asked, looking up at her.
She nodded quickly. “Please. I want your mouth on me.”
You dragged your tongue slowly up her slit. Minjeong’s hand flew to your hair with a loud groan.
“Oh my god. What—what have I gotten myself into—”
You savored her, circling her clit with the flat of your tongue, then sucked it gently between your lips. Two fingers slid inside her tight pussy, curling back and forth as you worked her with your mouth.
“Fuck—right there,” she moaned, hips rolling against your face. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Not letting up, your fingers kept stroking the most sensitive spot inside her while your tongue flicked and sucked. Her thighs started to tremble around your head, every part of her body tightening in a way that told you she was there.
“I’m gonna come. I’m—”
You sucked harder on her clit and flicked your fingers just right.
Minjeong came with a hushed, shuddering cry, thighs clamping around your head, pussy pulsing hard around your fingers. You kept licking her through the orgasm until she was trembling and tugging at your hair.
When you finally pulled back, she was flushed and breathing hard, eyes wet as she stared at the ceiling.
She took a moment to regain her breath, then reached for your belt with shaky hands.
“Your turn now,” she said. “Let me see all of you.”
Minjeong worked your belt open with careful, shaking hands. The metal clinked as she tugged your jeans and boxers down your thighs, your cock springing free, thick and twitching for her bare body. She wrapped both hands around you without hesitation, giving one firm, testing squeeze.
“Fuck,” she said, laughing. “You’re so hard.”
“Been like this since we kissed.”
She stroked you slowly from base to tip, thumbs brushing over the sensitive head on every pass. “I like how it feels in my hands,” she said, leaning down until her breath ghosted over your cock. “Heavy. Warm. Twitching every time I squeeze.”
She pressed a soft kiss right beneath the head, then another lower down the shaft. Her tongue flicked out, tasting the pre-cum beading at your tip.
You cursed under your breath as she took the head into her mouth, sucking gently while her hands kept stroking the rest of your length. She didn’t rush. She savored it — slow, wet pulls of her lips, tongue swirling around you, eyes flicking up to watch your reaction.
“Does that feel good?” she asked, pulling off just long enough to speak.
“Fuck, yes,” you rasped, fingers threading into her hair. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep going like that.”
She smiled, a little shy, a little proud, and took you deeper. Her mouth was hot and wet, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. One hand pumped what she couldn’t fit while the other cupped your balls, rolling them gently, massaging with her fingertips.
“Minjeong… fuck, your mouth—”
She hummed around you, the vibration shooting straight down your spine. She bobbed her head slowly, taking more of you each time, getting sloppier and wetter. Spit dripped down your shaft onto her fingers as she kneaded you.
You watched her hair fall around her face. The responsible girl who ran half the town was on her knees for you, sucking your cock like it was the only thing she wanted in the world.
She pulled off with a wet gasp, stroking you fast and with both hands now. “Tell me what you like. I want to make you feel as good as you made me.”
You tightened your grip in her hair. “Just keep doing whatever this is. Keep using your hands while you suck the tip.”
She obeyed immediately, lips wrapping around the head again while her hands twisted and pumped the shaft. The double sensation had your toes curling against the sheets.
“God, that feels so fucking good,” you groaned, legs shaking.
She pulled off suddenly, lips swollen.
“Not yet,” she said, still stroking you slowly. “I’m not done playing with you.”
She leaned down and dragged her tongue up the entire length, collecting every drop of precum she found. Then she wrapped her lips around the head and sucked gently, tongue flicking against the slit.
“Minjeong…”
She purred in response, one of her hands stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach while the other cautiously caressed your balls.
“No–” you moaned, your body giving you half a second’s warning. “Wait, wait–”
She pulled off with a loud pop. “Look at you making all kinds of noises,” she said. “Like your body can’t hide how much it wants me.”
It felt way too good—each flick and slurp and the wetness of her mouth, everything she did made your body twist and tense in ways you didn’t think possible.
“Fuck,” you hissed, hand fisting the sheets.
She released your cock with a wet sound and smiled up at you. “You’re shaking. Am I making you cum?”
“Yes. You’re killing me.”
She took you back into her mouth, deeper this time, nose pressed to your stomach, relaxing her throat and holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back with a gasp. Spit trailed from her lips to your cock. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand but kept stroking you, resolute in her mission to make you fall apart.
“I could stay here all night,” she whispered, thumb rubbing over the head in tight circles. “Just tasting you. Feeling how hard you get for me.”
Your hips bucked involuntarily. She laughed, then crawled up your body until she was straddling your hips. Her soaked pussy rested right against your cock, warm and slick as she rocked once, sliding her folds along your length.
“I need you now,” she said, eyes locked on yours. She reached between you, lined you up at her entrance, and paused. “Slowly, okay? I want to feel every inch of you going in.”
She sank down onto you inch by inch.
The stretch made her gasp, lips parting as she took you deeper. Her cunt was tight and scorching hot, fluttering around your cock as she worked herself down. When her ass finally met your thighs and you were buried to the hilt, she moaned, “Fuck… you’re so deep.”
She started bouncing, every motion dragging your cock along her walls, hitting deep inside her. Her breasts brushed your chest with every roll, nipples hard against your skin.
“Tell me.” She circled her hips. “Does it feel good when I move like this?”
“Yes,” you groaned, hands sliding up to cup her ass.
Minjeong moaned and kept the same careful pace, grinding down on you, clenching around your cock on every downward motion. Her hair fell around both of you like a curtain, and you could feel her getting wetter, the obscene sound of her pussy taking your cock filling the quiet room.
That’s when you peeled one of your hands from her ass and slid it between her legs, groping her cunt until you found her clit.
You rubbed vicious circles around it.
“I touched myself thinking about you this summer,” she suddenly confessed. “After you started working nights at the pier… I’d come home, lie in this bed, and finger myself imagining it was you.”
The words lit something in your groin. You thrust up into her harder.
“Yeah?” you rasped. “How many times?”
“Almost every night.” She tilted her hips to grind harder against your hand. “I’d hear you come up the stairs and get so fucking wet knowing you were right down the hall. I felt guilty… but I couldn’t stop.”
You fucked her faster, deeper, thumb rubbing her clit until her moans turned into broken whimpers against your skin.
“Jason— I’m— fuck—”
You didn’t slow down.
She came hard, thighs shaking around your hips as her pussy clenched and fluttered around your cock. The feeling pulled you under with her, groaning her name and thrusting deep one last time, spilling thick and white inside of her.
Minjeong let out a broken little sound, rolling her hips like she didn’t want to waste a single drop. “I can feel it inside me,” she whispered against your neck. “God, there’s a lot.”
You stayed buried deep inside her as the waves faded, both of you breathing hard, skin sticky with sweat. She stayed draped over your chest, legs still loosely wrapped around you, like she wasn’t ready to let go yet.
The room was silent except for the distant hush of the waves and the faint creak of the bed whenever one of you shifted.
After a while she pressed a lazy kiss to your collarbone. “I don’t regret this,” she said. “Even if everything else gets messy tomorrow… I don’t regret tonight.”
You held her a little tighter, one hand stroking slowly down her back. The moonlight still shone over the sheets, and under it sat the heavy weight of everything you still hadn’t told her.
Giselle and Ningning throw up peace signs while they "help" Winter suck you off, each of them grabbing a twintail apiece. Using her hair like handlebars, they drag Winter's head up and down your length, her lips locked tightly around your slick shaft. Good girls help out! ☺️
Male Reader x Jiyeon, Winter, Jiyu, Asa, Rei, Sooin, Jiwoo, Sullyoon, Chuu, Dayeon, Nien, Tsuki (smut)
these images are a lot bigger and more annoying on tumblr, I suggest reading on fanprose 4.2k words. If you read my post yesterday you get the vibe, it's a 2 hour writing challenge.
New run, new game, hell yeah.
The first game was so successful they made a sequel, new idols, new route. All that good stuff. However, they rushed the fuck out of it so the route is even more buggy than last time.
And Jiyeon is still the tutorial.
But now she's in a pizza shop, don't ask. Just know that you have to compress yourself into a pizza box to clip yourself back into the back where she is. The oven is normally too hot to fuck so that's what you have to disable, not today though. You simply just broke it before coming in.
Like a good dough, Jiyeon is very easy to knead. kneading her thighs as she bent herself 180*, she's the most flexible woman you've ever seen. It's truly quite incredible, her hands are on the floor and you are slapping your cock against her clit for good measure. "W-welcome to my pizza shop, is this the tip?"
Well, you didn't think of it like that– until you've heard this one line about 50 times. And you are down to give Jiyeon not just the tip, Rubbing it headily against her messy entrance as you pushed inside it. "This is your payment for being such a fucking good girl at making pizza."
"Mm, did your card decline and you came to fuck me or?" No, your card definitely accepted. You hit an infinite money exploit long before starting the run, cheat codes and everything.
"No this is just, a special treatment." You are one to reiterate while thrusting in and out, it's the most controlled rate of this run. The main mechanic difference between the two games is that it's optimal to treat the women how they want as opposed to trying to rush through it, it makes as little sense for a speedrun while making perfect sense.
At least the women are finally also getting the pleasure they deserved.
"Mmh, special meat… I like it." Jiyeon's quivering, struggling to keep herself in the position. Why was a pizza worker so flexible? You feel bad, lifting her up and helping pushing her into the counter. Knocking over a can of tomato sauce onto the floor, luckily its not opened.
"You have quite a nice, oven…" You moan, feeling the warmth of her pussy swallowing you tight and greedily. And the wood-fired oven over there is pretty nice. "Would like to put something in it."
As weird as it sounds, Winter is just next door to Jiyeon's pizza store, in the nearby lake. You normally have to swim or get a boat, but simply put… Winter appears in the wrong place if Jiyeon was the woman you plowed last, like a 5th boss being second because the code is fucked.
"Hey." Winter waterboards you with her pussy, riding your face with fervor. This is the most relaxing part, she takes her pleasure and you use your tongue like she wants it. A toy feasting.
You respond with gargles, hm’s and whatever she wants while you drink all of Winter's intoxicating juices. It's sweet, addictive and the direct reason you've lost so many of your runs… because you lose all your time getting lost in it.
"You are so confident, crossing a lake just to eat me out, good boy." Well, not quite but close enough you suppose. Your hands grab onto Winter's tight asscheeks, not as good loaves as Jiyeon but that's her profession. It's like comparing apples and oranges, can't do that.
There's enough pleasure from Winter suffocating you with her pussy that you throb into the cold night air, licking and lapping her slick like a feral beast. Absolutely divine, it's like heaven. Which is a great contrast from the hell of the previous game, character development.
(oh, for the skipped cutscene, Winter is the direct antithesis and mutation of Jinsoul… don't ask, again.)
"Just going to admire how you suffocate under me, look at you getting all red. You'd let me kill you to keep having a taste right?" You know that's impossible, but you are leaking pre-cum. So it's still working like an old bike. "You always go above and beyond."
Above and beyond, all these sloppy licks and desperate mewls. Winter's wetness seeps out further, refusing to let you have any oxygen. "I'm, close, fuck, good bye make me cum!" And with that, she paints your face with her release, you couldn't be happier.
Jiyu is harder to get to, you have to jump into that lake. Drown yourself, it's very nostalgic really– call back referencing. A sign of a fantastic piece of work.
Then you spawn into the library where she is, the private room where shes so shy. "Are you sure? Someone could walk in…" She's meek, meeping accidentally while talking, the hints of nervousness are the best part of her character. The door's locked, you locked it.
You remind her of such.
"okay…"
That's enough for Jiyu to get on her knees, big eyes with bigger glasses looking up at you– it's adorable. Adorable also describes the way her lips part to let her tongue lick the beads of pre-cum that formulated during your tryst with Winter. She smiles softly at the taste, though she's still blushing redder than a tomato. It's embarassing to her yet the only thing she wants to do at the moment.
No matter how many runs you do, it still makes you swoon. And you fall back into the chair when she takes the tip into her mouth and just the tip, she's unpracticed, inexperienced and very cute. Her eyes look for some confirmation, some praise.
You are so happy to give it.
" That's, very good Jiyu. Fucking hell." She blushes brighter, the concept of getting caught off guard by swearing while someone's cock is pushing its way into your mouth is fascinating. She lets it sink further, she's taken half and that's the only half she'll take. Bobbing up and down on what she can take without choking, it's plenty pleasureful enough. Especially after everything else.
"You are so talented, so dorky." Calling her a dork may seem rude, and it is. But it's that rudeness that has her legs pressed together, rubbing together her thighs as her panties are drenched with an arousal that she would clam up before admitting. If you play it properly it's a whole hour of the game. Which is far too long for your purposes, just know she's getting off in multiple ways.
Ah, Asa, Asa Asa Asa.
The DLC woman of the first game promoted to an actual required main game encounter, you don't mind. Though you wish it saved your interaction with her. Though her cake is directly in front of you, presented to you as breakfast in bed.
How did you get here? Well you picked up a lemon ice tea on the way home before going to bed, summoning ritual. Your tongue samples a taste of Asa's ass before the sleep is even rubbed out of your eyes, she's whimpering as you circle her rim.
"How's your, wow breakfast?" She's confident in her bakery, something that's a sign of any quality baker. You can't speak, which you think she'd realise because she's pushing her fat tasty ass against your face, but logic falls to the way side with pleasure.
But it's a very good breakfast, 10/10, no notes. Perfect from everything to everything. You taste her sinful hole that you will plow multiple times. The entire path after this is just Asa's Anal Adventures but you don't get to experience it for the 100% route, which should really be called the true ending route. Because you don't do everything.
Blame the moderators, or something…
Anyways, eating her ass is one of the things that gives you joy in this route. (It might seem like everything does, since there's always a vocal point– and well duh, you are plowing 12 hot ass women back to back.) Her breathy reactions, her body language that is forced out of her as your tongue rims her. You are rock hard, underneath the bed sheets waiting to be freed.
She pushes you deeper, your finger finds a way to navigate the treacherous suffocating angle of her ass to slip a finger inside her wetness, working in tandem. Enjoy your breakfast, playing with your food is just encouraged in this case. Asa is the food and it's deserving of a Michelin star, maybe three.
Though you don't want the speedrun to start charging you for this section, would be needless grinding knowing them it'd be another currency.
Rei's ass getting fucked on a beanbag. "Ah! Pound my tight asshole, please, come on!" Rei's loud from the first moment, probably because you teleported halfway through the scene. The beans make it hard to plow her, going 'weee' ''wooo' and 'ahh' in between moans like your on a fucking rollercoaster.
"Please, woow, my ass needs you!" Well she's quite persistent, you grab onto her blonde pigtails and pull her head back. Let the beautiful moans free for you to hear, it'd be a real shame if it was denied to be heard. You've done both, you prefer this way.
"How bad?"
"So bad, If I walk you've failed!" No, you've failed if you get a bad time, and if you are tracking. You are right on cue, The lube used is now everywhere, splattering the beanbag in transparent globs. Speaking of everywhere, her thighs are absolutely drenched in her arousal. "Yes!"
"Tight, ass, fuck!" Her ass is fully stretched around you, so nicely that it's next-to-impossible to think about anything else. Except the timer, that's clocking. This might be your worst split yet, you've gotten nothing out of this. Fuck.
You kick it into overdrive, fuck the bean bag, fuck rei. Putting her on the floor, proneboning her ass with all the energy you have. Turning a bad situation into a better one, harshly slapping into Rei's butt. She finishes on the carpet and you finish in the tight slutty hole of her ass.
The way out is Minecraft, what sort of dual video game crossover is this? You kill an enderman and go to the nearby village, where Sullyoon is lying spread. Two thoughts on your head is– does she do that stuff? The answer is yes, the second thought is closing the gap.
That gap is closed as Sullyoon grabs onto your shirt, tugs you close, pushes your cock inside of her as you look through the stained glass window and creeper head on her table. "Fuck, this is better than Minecraft."
Is that possible? You'll take the compliment, following it up by pushing her feet to sit next to her ears and use her body.
What does a mating press and a stack of wheat have in common? They both result in bread.
Sullyoon takes your cock as elegantly as they cum, impaling her all the way to the hilt and then back out half way. Hitting every spot Sullyoon needs, Sullyoon craves. She moans at the constant assault, letting you ravage her for all that time permits.
"Yes, yes, yes!" She moans like a whole choir, your cock aches every second you are inside Sullyoon. So desperate to cum yet the Minecraft world puts slowness five on your orgasm, it's a fixed section. Can't go slower, can't go faster.
But you still give the bed and Sullyoon's womb the 1 load cycle. Pounding her senseless– her thighs shaking in your grip, she's crumbling. Taking every thrust into her wet depths. There's a lot of doing in this speedrun so you like this on rails section. If Sullyoon wasn't so fucking hot you could just sit there and you'd both cum after 10 minutes.
The end of that rail is coming, and you get off the minecart. "Rnghhhh!" She sounds like a mob, you pump all of your load deep inside Sullyoon, breeding her like the village makes bread.
Dayeon is the sleeper agent of this run, the section that isn't supposed to end your speedrun. It has, and it might. The premise is simple, you are laying down. Dayeon has a glass dildo pushing in and out of your ass, thrusting in and out as she looks divine in that post-workout sports bra and sweaty chest.
Why does this one end your runs? Well you can't cum too quickly, triggers a second round that wastes too much time. Even when she abuses your ass with seven inches and has her vibrator against your tip at fullwhirl.
"Bet you were waiting for this, tired of not getting treated right? Waiting to crumble for me." Dayeon smirks, replacing her vibrator with her tongue to reap her reward before swapping it back. "Speak."
"Y-yes, I love how you treat me."
"I treat you the best, nobody will ever make you cum as hard as I will." That's a guarantee, she somehow adds to the pleasure– takes your balls into her mouth. Keeps the pressure up as she sucks, thrusts and does all sort of things.
You are seeing stars, obstructing your vision and throbbing wildly. The sudden endurance change makes things very hard, harder than you are. Pretty impressive since you are a tungsten rod at this point. "Keep taking it, dont' cum yet. Right? You wouldn't want to disappoint me."
"no, no Dayeon I do not…"
"Good."
A few more thrusts and the timer in your head is finished, it's a time save to cum now. So you put all of your strength into doing just that, Dayeon smiling as you defile her vibrator with your load. "Such a thick load…"
Sooin, Sooin, soon you will be in. First you have to do the obligatory slenderman section where you find her eight pages to make her phone number.
Fixed locations, so you jump from left, right, middle, down, down, middle, left, left, right. Then you are in Sooin's bedroom. She's smoking indoors, how wildly irresponsible. Even more irresponsible that she lets you fuck her thighs at the same time, she takes a hit of her cigarette while you are in between her pillowy legs.
And there's a mirror.
So you get to see it all, all it's glory, her black hair. The slight trace of sweat on her body, the red blooming behind the thin veil of smoke that appears in front of her from the red circle. "You aren't too bad at this." She praises, rubbing your tip with a finger not responsible for her cigarette, that's all she needs to do, rub underneath– hitting the ridges that make you throb. "All of this effort and you don't even get my full attention, don't get the feeling of being inside me, just the wetness on one side of your cock. Do you not feel shame?"
Why would you? You know how this goes outside of the speedrun, that cigarette is branded into your skin and she's squirting onto the mirror, shame you don't get to experience it. You keep fucking her thighs slowly, kissing her neck, leaving marks that will blossom purple.
"It's a nice dick, so fun to toy with. She plays with the pre-cum, lets it split between her fingers and fall onto the parts between her fingers. You are her toy, her thing to tease. You got to give the developers credit, they have made a lot of more innovative sections of gameplay for this sequel.
"Throbbing so desperately, are you going to paint my thighs? Show me how much you like them?" Sooin taps your tip one last time, giggling as you spurt everywhere, cum falling in a rainshower down onto her legs.
Out you are, now you are on a beach. Because everything needs it's obligatory beach episode where it can put their women in a bikini. Are you complaining? Not really, Jiwoo's in a nice white two piece. There's nobody around, thanks to a sign you placed earlier when you weren't looking.
Jiwoo's on a towel, you don't take her bikini off, just move it in a way that lets you take the plunge. "This is a nice vacation aint it?" Jiwoo's acting lke you aren't even inside her, just touching herself up in the mirror– making herself look nice. "You've picked a nice beach."
You've certainly picked a nice beach, if Jiwoo is the beach and her tits are Sandcastles. "Yeah, thanks."
Her bikini is pulled down and her tits are free, free for you to touch and admire. You do that while shes now on her phone, talking to someone as you enjoy the warmth of her body and the sun on your back. Teasing her nipples with your fingers until they get rock hard, then you spit on them– a singular thick white blob on both, rubbing the spit into them as she moans. still she doesn't pay you much mind.
"Hey there Carmen, just on vacation… we've got two weeks here?" She moans, you really hope she's not on video call, or she doesn't pan the camera lower. Theres a 30% chance for each outcome, roguelike elements in my story fucking idol game. How awesome.
"Yeah he's here, just, enjoying the view and warmth." She says it innocently, so it's that one where Carmen isn't clued in. Cool.
The waves start to crash behind you a lot more aggressively, that's a sign Jiwoo is getting close. A metaphor for nature, how sick. As the waves capsize a few surfers Jiwoo cums, getting your cock wetter than it already was– making the white towel slightly less white.
You are quick to rectify it not being white, giving Jiwoo the creamipe she deserves.
Tsuki's the only girl who comes to your bedroom. A game that prides itself on customisation with only one of the women ever actually utilising that space, notes for the inevitable third game. This sections honestly quite boring. You are laying down on your bed, Tsuki's laying down on you. Cockwarming you as you both watch the television.
The show's custom made, she squeezes around your length while you both watch. There's a cat, trying to fight against the moon. The cat runs away from twelve moon-bound servants, trying to bring her to a vet and dispatch them from the world.
"Fuck, this shows so good." Tsuki's in awe at the show, you are at awe you get to take a breather from the run. Tsuki's very hot, but you can't see much, can't do much. It's an onrails section without the railing.
"Yeah, the background is very cool looking."
"Such good set design."
This is mundane, a dead section. Wait you almost forgot to practice your new trick, close your eyes. Wait five seconds, Lip gloss.
Chuu takes a similar role to Asa of the first game, your ability to skip doing Karina and Chaewon in order to unlock the final pillar to get the true ending of the game. Where Tsuki's show involved fighting the moon, Chuu is literally on the moon. But making a rocket ship can take way too long, soo grab a parachute and hump the wall until it launches .
You are on the lunar surface, Chuu is there in all her celestial glory– wearing an elegant white dress and hovering off the surface. This part is a mind fuck, it always hurts your soul.
Deep breath.
Believe.
"Incarnis, Magiu!" Chuu casts a spell, you fall asleep.
It's night, Chuu is riding you. It's day, Chuu is riding you. What time is it? There's sounds, Chuu is biting both of ears at the same time, making you shiver, hard. She's riding you while doing this, head fucking you.
Face fucking you with her cunt as well.
Then it's back to the moon, she's got you in amazon. Making you slam roughly against her, all sensations are ever present. Escalating, every thrust stacks more pleasure, you really can't breathe. She's taken your breath away.
She is trying to kill you, that much should be obvious.
It's the beginning of the game now, Jiyeon is replaced by Chuu and instead of her folding you're folding. Then she's riding your face instead of winter. Jiyu's blowjob becomes you giving her a blowjob. Everything that's happened replaces in an alternative way, contextualizes the scene in a way that never gets easier to endure.
You need to break free, you say the words.
"Vessel, though i am unworthy, free me from these chains!" That's enough to…
Pull you back into the real world. Your world, back on the moon. Chuu and you are fighting for the final blows, cock to pussy, she fucks you and you fuck her. Time is going quick, you need to do this before you suffocate.
You win in the end. She's on the moon rock, asleep from the most mind blowing orgasm.
Fuck. This is it, the final fight. The final battle.
A beam of light fires from the sun, pulling you into Nien's arena. Then there it is, the final text.
A boss's health bar.
Nien, Sun's Personification.
It never gets less scary, especially with how hot it is. Being literally inside the sun does make it hard to move, you are sweating buckets.
"You think you can best me? Just because you best Jiyeon." Oh yeah, she's technically also evil. The lore's complicated, starting and ending with the same force. Oh well, you are focused on getting the sub two-hour.
"Of course I can. Chuu couldn't stop me."
"I had no expectation of her to succeed, but you will die by my pleasure." The flames of the sun form chains that try to bind you into place, you backflip out of the way. Running up closer. Going for your first blow, a kiss on the lips. Landing it, winning the first exchange.
"Divine judgemnt awaits!" She shouts, if the chains don't work she'll make it work. throwing her underwear towards your feet, binding your legs together as you fall back into the sun's firey gas. "Apologises in advance for your demise!"
You probably shouldn't, but you try a new strat. Laying there, Let her make her move, mantle your cock and start riding it. She's turned on, every thrust makes the sun around you pulse and spark. "I will win!"
False, this is a piece of cake.
Nien's hands hold onto your chest, keeping you from making your move as she refuses to let your cock, trapped in her warmth. Obviously the hottest, actually too hot. But she is the fucking sun. You expect nothing more.
She's dazed by the pleasure as you hit her g-spot, this is your move. Pushing her back, pulling out of her warm cavern. You make the move, plunging your fingers into the Sun. Triggering phase 3, Nien and you are in a similar stalemate to you and Chuu, both racing to make the other person cum and pass out before you lose. The only difference is you are plowing her ass, her toned abs the vocal point for your eyes because anything else would be too dangerous.
You must endure, endure this abnormal ass ending. Claim the world-record for both games, you are so far ahead of pace. Just hold on…
"No, you will not beat- fuck! win!" Nien is delirious with pleasure, the sun is shaking, it's about to blow. You will free the world from her gaze, or whatever the plot actually is. You can only focus on Nien's body, come on.. come on!
"No, no, fuck, your cock is too good! I am–" That's it, the sun has cum, Nien squirts all over your body and goes limp. Laying in her own star, you need to get out, firing your thick load all over her chest (it's a requirement for true ending)
The sun starts to faint, its out of your control. Disappearing and spitting you out back towards earth. You've won, holy shit you've done it.
Overused SMUT 18+ G!P (DOUBLE PENETRATION, VAGINAL, ANAL, FACE FUCKING)
A pajama party turning into a fucking session? Well, it was Wonyoung's idea, acting like she didn't want to fuck you raw. She invited you guys only to get you, but all of the other girls couldn't contain their desires neither!
All of you girls were having a sleepover.
You, Winter, Chaewon, Karina, and Wonyoung.
You couldn't have any more fun!!
Telling tea, eating, watching some series and debating about random stuff.
And nobody was here to disturb all of you girls.
Wonyoung's parents weren't there, and the house was far away enough from the other ones.
After drinking sodas, Winter got up.
"I'm going to the toilet, gonna piss" Winter urged, and she quickly headed out and close the room door.
"So since we have to wait for her to resume the series let's play truth or dare for a little bit" Wonyoung suggested.
You all nodded excitedly, but little did you know Wonyoung was waiting for this moment all day.
She needed you so bad and planned on how to finally able to do you.
She smirks at your oblivious smile, already hard down there.
You all get in circle and place an empty bottle in the center.
Wonyoung spins the bottle hurriedly, not looking away from you.
The bottle lands on Karina, and she takes a peek at your face, knowing what Wonyoung was planning already.
"Truth or dare, Karina?" Wonyoung asks.
"Dare, obviously" Karina looks at you curiously.
"Karina, I dare you to..kiss y/n" Wonyoung orders with a nonchalant expression.
You gasp, not expecting her to have things like that in her mind, but you lowkey didn't complain.
At all.
Karina appeared right in front of you.
You gulped, the temperature of your cheeks rising rapidly.
She sat in front of you, facing you, and took your cheeks in her hands.
You stared at her nervously.
Both your lips touched, and she kissed you, slowly.
You let her take the lead, as her hands come to wrap around your waist.
Wonyoung watches, touching herself because she found this so hot.
Chaewon, who also wanted to kiss you for months, gets hard instantly.
Karina's mouth felt like seeing life in pink.
She was more experienced than you, angling her head to make the kiss last longer.
You both lost yourselves in the kiss, Karina moving her hips towards you.
And when you thought you couldn't breathe, she pulled out with a large string of saliva connecting you both.
"Your mouth feels so good.." Karina catches her breath, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"But you know what." Wonyoung suddenly stands up "What would you do if the three of us would take you? Right there?"
Both Karina and Chaewon looked at Wonyoung, not expecting her to say that.
You stare down nervously.
You wanted to tell yourself it wasn't a good thing.
Why would you be with them all?
But you felt the need, between your legs.
And the need was stronger than you were.
You needed them all, to feel them all.
Wonyoung chuckles, her bratty-playful nature showing more in the moment.
She takes your hand: the touch was soft despise her natural strength.
She leads you to the double bed, laying you down on it.
Finally.
You're getting what you wanted the most.
She removes her clothes slowly, letting you watch.
But Chaewon joined, and undressed you as well.
Wonyoung touches your bare waist, feeling the skin on her own.
She held her dick in her left hand and wrapped your legs around her waist.
You sighed at the feel of the tip directly against your center.
"Feel how hard I am, hmm?" She smiles smugly and grips your hips firmly.
Chaewon found one of your boobs in her mouth and you hold onto her head.
You moan as Wonyoung pushes in slowly inch by inch.
"I love how tight you are" Wonyoung praises with her eyes closed.
She pushes slowly, watching Chaewon sucking on your tit.
Wonyoung begins moving, stretching you so good.
Karina touches her bulge, imagining her being the one to fuck you.
You whimper at the two sensations, Chaewon having her feast on your chest and Wonyoung stimulating your pussy.
"You feel so good.." Wonyoung bites her lips, her hips moving forward and backward.
She was hitting your spots, it was just too peak.
You could feel every vein in you, every inch.
Meanwhile, Chaewon was eating you like a lollipop, tasting your soft and salty skin in her mouth.
You rolled your eyes with a whimper, your legs folding and unfolding everytime.
"That's good baby, take my cock like a good pet" Wonyoung wipes some of her sweat, still fucking you senseless.
And you felt it, your orgasm approaching.
Wonyoung was soon on the verge too, her pace getting more brutal and fast.
"You like that, baby?" Wonyoung breathes heavily, her midriff moving aggressively and her expression getting desperate.
You replied with a shaky "yes", of course you liked how she was fucking you deep!
She grips your hips harder, reaching an impossible pace of her shaft sliding in and out.
You couldn't do it anymore, you let out a whine, grip her shoulder and come around her.
You just coated her length with your juices, bucking your hips for a moment.
You're breathing heavy, eyes closed, and satisfied.
While Wonyoung was tensed: she moved narrowly now, panting as her climax approached.
"Fuck.." She moans, now using you for her own pleasure.
She was loosing her mind: your come glistened her shaft and made everything so messy.
Heavy sounds of squelching could be heard, along with her desperate noises.
But she couldn't do it anymore: She bottoms out, furrowing her eyebrows and she unloaded her cum into you.
You could feel the warm liquid fitting your insides perfectly, as Wonyoung collapsed on you.
Chaewon pulled back from your other breast and looked at Karina.
"Can I take her first?" Chaewon urges, almost wanting to hump the air.
Karina sighs but nods: After all, the best for the end !
You look at them in anticipation at the thought of being fucked by all of them.
But as Chaewon undresses, you all hear the door opening.
Winter, unconscious, enters the room.
But she immediately pauses, seeing Wonyoung laying on you with her member inside you, and Chaewon stripping off her panty.
They all look at her and smile weirdly.
"Can I join?" Winter suddenly removes her own clothes.
She and Chaewon got off their undergarments at the same time, freeing their pre-cum wet woods.
They were big!
Wonyoung pulls out her cock slowly, letting Chaewon take the charge.
"My turn" Chaewon goes between your legs, tracing her fingers on your clit, and your breath hitches.
Winter doesn't waste any time, placing herself over your face.
"Ready to taste dick?" Winter smiles smugly, her tongue on her teeth.
She looks at your shiny eyes, and it makes her more horny.
She groans, placing the head of her dick on your mouth.
The pre-cum drips down on your lips.
Then both the girls penetrate you.
"Woah.." Chaewon sighs..pushing herself deeper into you
You moan around Winter's cock who filled your throat completely, making you gag up.
But little did you know, Winter only cared for her pleasure.
"Your mouth is perfect" winter expresses, hips going up and down as her girth slid in and out.
You could taste her pre-cum, your tongue swirling around the skin.
She sighs at the feeling, one of her hands holding onto your hair.
Chaewon clothes her eyes and moves her hips rapidly: it was her usual pace!
The head of her dick hits your spongy spot more, massaging your walls.
"Yes.." Chaewon moans, enjoying this too much "You take us so well"
Wonyoung and Karina watch, Wonyoung cleaning herself but not dressing back yet.
Karina strokes her crotch through her clothes, mimicking the other girls' movements on you.
Chaewon's pace and size was making you cry, the vibration coming around Winter's length.
She screams, her hips moving forward faster.
"Your slutty mouth feels so good" Winter exhales, gripping your head firmer.
"Yes, use her like the cock slut she is" Wonyoung smirks, enjoying the display in front of her.
You choke on Winter, your saliva wetting her member as you breath through your nose.
The bed creaks with Chaewon's brutal motions, she was already on the verge.
"Ah! I.." Chaewon cries shakily, her hips making you slide on the mattress repeatedly.
You whine at the two sensations, and Winter can feel her own climax coming.
They both move messily, Chaewon loosing herself between your walls and Winter having a harsh grip on your hair as she hits the back of your throat.
And soon, they fill your entirety, completely deep in your two pairs of lips.
You can feel two throbbing dicks deep into both of your entries and sticky liquids filling you slowly.
"Drink this, drink your master's cum" Winter orders while still releasing her come.
You drink obediently in satisfaction, tasting her salty liquid gulping down to your stomach.
"Good girl" Chaewon sighs contently, still cuming, but when she feels you moving on her dick to reach your climax, she starts riding out her orgasm, loud obscene sounds of her cum and your past come being slapped by her cock into you.
After Winter pulls out, you cry out Chaewon's name and come down for the second time, feeling overwhelmed.
"You did so good" Winter praises, caressing your hair gently.
Chaewon takes her wood out, kissing your cum-wet lips.
Karina could finally do you.
She runs to the bed hurriedly and yanks off her own clothes.
You look at her hazily as she forces you on all fours, positioning herself behind you.
"Ahh" she moans at your thighs walls hugging her so well.
You also cry, feeling her massive length sink deeper.
But pain soon becomes pleasure as she moves in and out of you, giving your ass cheek a slap that left a little red mark.
She giggles at the sight, holding onto your hips as she fucks you from behind.
"Fuck you're so good Karina.." you whimper, head looking down.
"Shit..say my name again?" Karina urges.
"Karina" you moan softly.
She groans, her pace becoming unsteady and uncontrolled.
The three other watch with satisfaction, Wony loving how you're being used.
Karina's balls meet with your skin as her hips hit your cheeks with each thrust.
"Please..Karina.." you try to look back at her.
And she couldn't do it anymore: Moving faster, she fucked you with abandon in waves of ecstasy.
"Such a good little pet" Wonyoung watches in awe as she starts dressing back.
You grip the sheets now crying in pleasure, tears running down your cheeks as you felt overstimulated, your third orgasm approaching.
"Ugh" Karina moves like an animal, the sounds of skin hitting against skin getting louder and more frequent.
Your toes curl, and you whine loudly.
"I'm coming.." your eyes close, come dripping down your legs.
Karina sighs in need, as she soon thrusts to the hilt, unloading streams of hot semen in you.
Her hips move slowly as she fills you completely.
"So good" she catches her breath in satisfaction.
When she pulls out, you lay down on the bed, feeling used.
Your legs are limp, pussy red and swollen, and mouth and clit full with cum.
They all reach to clean your body and take care of you, so that you could feel refreshed again!
(G) You desperately hold onto Winter's twintails, her face buried in your crotch, her nose twitching against your mound. You groan as her tongue skillfully plies your swollen clit, lapping at your hood until you quiver and squeal. No wonder Karina loves Winter so much! 🥵
Winter stares blandly up at you when your cock flops down onto her face, your tip already drooling with excitement, can she help you? As it turns out, she can indeed as you put that pouty mouth to work sliding up and down your shaft. Winter rolls her eyes in exhasperation 🙄
