#irresistible setup

[six-demon-bag]

and then he was d2b (down 2 boink) anyway

inspired by this post

[woollypoison]

Body heat and chlorine

Nmixx Bae x Male reader

a/n: prompt I did by @mintwithchoco! Should've uploaded this days ago but I hope you still enjoy

Word count: 2.6k

It’s going to be a herculean task to focus on learning how to swim with her here. Your new swim instructor Bae, stretching at the edge of the pool, eyeing you to see if you’re ready to go in. You hope you’re not standing here looking too much, with her brown one-piece kneading her shape into an irresistible treat for the eyes. Your eyes trail over her toned frame. You knew swim instructors had to be fit, but she is top class.

“Are you sure you’re ready? You’re looking a bit… intense?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “If you’re worrying about how to impress me, don’t. I already am. A big strong guy like you, not knowing how to swim. And willing to have a younger girl teach him? Wow.”

You let your tensed shoulders drop, your hands rubbing the back of your neck. “Not exactly something I like to advertise.”

Bae giggles, stepping forward, her fingers brushing against your forearm as she nudges your side with her elbow. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll take real good care of you.”

You step into the water, the coolness hitting you first, then the warmth radiating off Bae as she moves beside you. She’s smaller than you, but the confidence in the way she moves makes it clear she’s in control here.

“Alright,” she says, rolling her shoulders. “Step one—floating on your back. Should be easy for a guy like you, right?”

You eye her suspiciously. “Why do I feel like this is a setup?”

Bae chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s just how the process goes. Promise.”

Shaking your head, you lean back, trusting the water—until a flicker of panic grips your chest. Instinct kicks in, and your arm shoots out, catching something solid—Bae’s waist.

She lets out a soft, surprised yelp but doesn’t pull away. Instead, she laughs, hands sliding beneath your shoulders to steady you. “Well, damn,” she muses, voice laced with amusement. “If you wanted to feel me up, you could’ve just asked.”

Your face burns, embarrassment creeping up your spine. “Not exactly intentional.”

She grins, her fingers pressing lightly against your back. “Relax, big guy. You’re tense.”

“Yeah, well,” you mutter, “I’d like to not drown today.”

Bae clicks her tongue. “You’re not going to drown. I got you.”

Her voice was soothing and her touch guided you into a better position. The warmth of her hands seeped through your skin as she pressed against you. Each movement sparked electricity in your veins, and the water seemed to heat up with every touch.

“You know,” she muses, “I usually teach little kids. This is definitely different.”

You glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? Not used to someone my size?”

She tilts her head, considering. “Not used to someone your age.” Her lips quirk in a smirk. “Or someone who looks at me like that.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Like what?”

She hums, her fingers trailing slightly lower on your back, nails grazing your skin. “Like you’re having a real hard time focusing on the lesson.”

You grin. “Maybe I just wasn’t expecting my instructor to be this hands-on.”

Bae snickers, her hands sliding down to your ribs as she helps you balance. “Hands-on is how I teach.”

Your stomach tenses at her touch, and she notices. Her eyes flick up to yours, her smirk widening. “Sensitive?”

You scoff. “You wish.”

She clicks her tongue, her fingers pressing just a little firmer. “Mm, I dunno. I think I like seeing you squirm.”

You're burning up on the inside, and forcefully clear your throat, trying to focus on literally anything else lest you give yourself away. “Shouldn’t we be moving on to the next step?”

Bae grins but relents, moving back slightly. “Right, yes, let’s try swimming a little. I’ll be right here, I’ve got you covered.”

You nod and push forward, determined. For a second, it almost feels like you’ve got it—until your coordination falters, and suddenly, you’re sinking. Arms flailing, you grab onto the closest thing—Bae.

She lets out a surprised squeak as you yank her closer, your hands gripping her waist. Her body presses against yours, and for a moment, neither of you move.

“Well,” she breathes, amusement and something else laced in her tone, “this is a fun new way to fail.”

Your face is inches from hers, her breath warm against your cheek. Her hands settle on your chest, fingers splaying out. She doesn’t pull away.

You swallow. “I warned you I was bad at this.”

Bae hums, her fingers trailing absently along your collarbone. “Yeah, but now I’m wondering if you’re doing this on purpose.”

You smirk, forcing yourself to stay playful. “If I was, would you stop me?”

She tilts her head, considering, then slowly shakes her head. “Mm, probably not.”

Something shifts between you. The teasing has always been there, but now, there’s a weight to it, a pull neither of you fully acknowledge but can’t ignore. Her fingers skim down your chest, slow, exploratory, before retreating just as quickly.

She clears her throat. “Alright, alright. Let’s try again. Less drowning this time.”

You nod, shaking off the lingering heat between you. “Right. Less drowning.”

The lesson continues, with you failing more than succeeding, much to Bae’s delight. Every mistake earns a tease, every misstep an excuse for her to touch you, to adjust you. The tension builds gradually, naturally, until it’s impossible to ignore.

After a while, she finally exhales, voice dropping just slightly. “You know,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your jaw, “for someone who’s supposed to be learning how to swim, you seem pretty comfortable staying in one spot.”

You chuckle, keeping your hold light but firm. “Maybe my instructor’s a little too distracting.”

Bae hums, her nails skimming your skin. “Oh, I like that answer.”

“How about,” she says, tone softer now, “we move somewhere a little more private? Less distractions.”

You blink, registering her words, and for the first time, the weight of everything clicks into place. The playful banter, the lingering touches—it wasn’t just harmless fun to her. She wants this.

A slow smirk tugs at your lips. “Lead the way.”

She grins, turning on her heel, the movement sending ripples through the water.

You both head towards the private changing rooms reserved for staff and instructors.

The space is intimate, just a single bench and four walls, the muted sounds of the pool filtering in through the thin walls.

Bae wastes no time undressing herself out of her swimsuit. She unties the straps at her neck and shoulders, letting the wet fabric peel away from her skin. Her breasts bounce free, nipples already hardened from the cool air. She shimmies the suit past her hips and down her thighs, past her calves, onto the floor, stepping out of it with the softest steps.

You’re obsessed with the sight of her naked body, your eyes drinking in every curve and toned muscle. She's carefully sculpted—toned from years of exercise, with taut, perfectly untarnished skin that just begs to be gripped by you.

She’s too perfect, and she knows it. Her posture, like she’s taunting you, is not lost on you, and you surge forward, grabbing her by the shoulders and slamming her against the nearest wall you could find. She gasps in mock surprise, her eyes filled with desire as she looks up at you. "Don't hold back," she murmurs, her hands drifting downwards and backing up her bravado with her hands on your bulge.

Your hands coil tightly around her wrists, pinning them above her head as you trap her between the wall and your body against her. Her smirk once more confirms the green light to do whatever it is you want. You can feel every inch of her skin, still damp from the pool, as your heat collides.

"Is this what you want?" you growl back into her ear. "To be tossed around like a slut?"

She moans, arching into your touch. "Yes," she breathes out. "Fuck yes. Use me however you want."

You grind your hips against hers, letting her feel how hard you are through your swim trunks. She writhes against you desperately, silently begging for more.

You delight in Bae's needy whimpers, the sound going straight to your cock. "Needy little slut," you murmur, nipping at her earlobe. "So desperate for it."

Your free hand trails down her side, skimming over her ribs, her hipbone, before settling on her thigh. You hitch her leg up around your waist, opening her up further.

Bae's head falls back against the wall with a thud, a breathless moan escaping her lips. "Please," she whines, writhing against you. "I need it."

You smirk at Bae's desperation, reveling in the power you hold over her. With a swift motion, you yank your swim trunks down, letting your hard cock spring free. It slaps against your abs, already leaking drops of precum.

Bae's eyes spoil what she doesn’t say, enamored by what she’s seeing. You, naked and eager to give her what she needs. Her gaze is unrelenting on your cock, and she licks her lips like she desperately wants to know its taste.

"Is this what you need?" You taunt her, grasping your shaft and giving it a few slow, sloppy pumps. "You're such a cute slut."

Bae whimpers needily, her hips bucking forward seeking friction. "I can't help it," she pants out between gasps. "You turn me on so much."

You chuckle darkly, trailing the dripping tip of your cock along her slit teasingly. She shudders and moans wantonly at the contact.

"Do you want this?" you ask huskily, pressing just barely inside her entrance before withdrawing again. "Want me to fill up your tight little pussy?"

Bae's eyes flutter shut as she savors the sensation of your cockhead teasing her slit. "Yes," she hisses through firmly pressed teeth. "God, yes. I want you to break me."

Her back arches, her hips buck into you, trying to get a taste, but you don’t let her. You hold back, resist with the tiny shred of willpower you still have. Not yet. You won’t give her that just yet. “You don’t know what you’re asking for“.

"Don’t worry," Bae whines strangely confident, her tone high and needy. "I can fucking take it."

You smirk at Bae's bravado, amused by her insistence that she can handle whatever you dish out. With one swift thrust, you drive your cock balls-deep into her soaked cunt, swallowing her shocked gasp with a brutal kiss.

She tastes like chlorine and desperation, her tongue tangling with yours as she moans into your mouth. Her pussy clenches around your shaft, still getting used to the sudden intrusion.

You grin wickedly, pulling out slowly before slamming back in with force. Bae's back arches off the wall, her breasts bouncing with the impact.

"That's it," you growl encouragingly, setting a brutal and irresistible pace. "Take my cock like the slutty little instructor you are."

Bae whimpers and nods frantically, her wrists squirming against your palm. "Yes, yes," she pants out between gasps and moans. "Destroy me!" You oblige, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise as you rut into her wildly.

Soon Bae is trembling beneath you, her eyes rolling back as she teeters on the brink of climax. "Come on," you rasp in her ear, punctuating each word with a sharp snap of your hips. "Cum on my cock like a good slut."

Bae's entire body spasms as she obeys your command, her pussy clamping down on your cock. Pleasure crashes over her in waves as she comes undone, her juices gushing out around your shaft.

You groan as you feel her cunt ripple and flutter around you, trying to milk you for all you’re worth.

"That's it," you growl, hammering deeper into her trembling form with renewed vigor. "You're such a good little cumslut."

Bae can only moan incoherently in response, lost to the throes of ecstasy. She is limp and pliant in your arms now, having been thoroughly used and satisfied. You release her arms and she let’s them dangle to her side. She lets out small mewls of pleasure each time you bottom out inside her sensitive folds.

You feel your own climax rapidly approaching as you relentlessly pound into Bae's well-used pussy. Her slick walls squeeze deliciously with each deep thrust.

Suddenly, Bae snaps back to reality. "Wait, wait," she pants, her voice hoarse from moaning. "Don't cum inside me. I could get fired if anyone notices your cum dripping out of me."

You slow your thrusts but don't stop completely, too far gone to cease entirely. Bae squirms underneath you, pushing at your chest.

"Please, I want to taste you," she begs breathlessly. "I want you to cum in my mouth instead. I'll swallow every drop so no one will ever know what a dirty slut I was for you."

With a groan, you pull out abruptly, making Bae gasp at the sudden emptiness. She wastes no time dropping to her knees, wrapping her hand around your slick shaft.

"No hands," you command gruffly. "I’m going to fucking break you."

Bae's eyes widen but she nods eagerly, opening her mouth in invitation. You grip the base of your cock, still slick with her juices, and guide it between her waiting lips.

With a guttural groan, you thrust forward, burying yourself to the hilt in one powerful motion. Bae gags and chokes as you break past her gag reflex, her throat constricting deliciously around your length. Tears spring to her eyes but she doesn't pull away, determined to please you.

Her hands twitch at her sides, clearly wanting to push you away, but she keeps them down, obeying your earlier command.

Bae whimpers around your cock, the vibrations of her voice adding a delightful fucked up touch to the pleasure. You can feel her struggling to breathe, but relenting was never an option. You promised to break her, after all.

You can feel your climax building rapidly as Bae's throat milks your cock. With a final brutal thrust, you bury yourself to the hilt and explode. Thick ropes of cum shoot directly down Bae's throat as she struggles to swallow around your pulsing shaft.

As your climax subsides, you slowly withdraw from Bae's mouth. She gasps for air, coughing slightly as she recovers. Through the tears, there's a satisfied glint in her eyes as she looks up at you.

You smirk down at her, running a thumb across her swollen lower lip. "Not too much for you to handle, instructor?"

Bae shakes her head, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Not even close. I told you I could take it."

You let out a single laugh at her resilience, helping her to her feet. Her legs are wobbly and far from the trained foundation she could rely on, but she manages to steady herself between the wall and your aiding grip. "I have to say," you muse as you come down from your high, "this wasn’t what I expected when I booked my first swimming lesson."

Bae laughs, the sound a bit raspy but genuine. "Are you unsatisfied? I did say I was going to take good care of you." She winks, reaching for her swimsuit. "Though I think we might need to schedule a few more... private lessons."

You watch as she slips back into her suit, admiring how it covers up your transgressions. "I don’t think I’ve got another choice," you reply with a grin and a breathless chuckle. "After all, I still haven't learned how to swim."

[gaytamorfosi]

Cesare’s Lesson

🇬🇧 ("La lezione di Cesare" Versione Inglese)

It was definitely strange to see Cesare on my bed. To be honest, it was already strange to see him outside the gym.

That’s where we met — among weights and barbells — and despite the age difference, we became somewhat friends. Cesare is one of those guys who always needs to be the center of attention: vain to the core, he checks himself out in the mirror more than anyone else in the weight room. He’s convinced he’s irresistible, and he acts like the entire world is supposed to agree.

A few days ago, he messaged me asking for help editing some photos in Photoshop. Harmless enough, or so it seemed. I invited him over and brought him into my bedroom, where I keep my desktop computer.

I definitely didn’t expect the evening to take the turn it did.

As soon as he sat down, Cesare admitted that the photo excuse was just a cover: he wanted to see me, plain and simple. He said he was into me, that there was some kind of tension between us... and then he did something that left me speechless. Sitting on the bed, he started flexing his muscles right in front of me, like I was judging a bodybuilding competition. He struck a pose, flashing that smug grin that screamed “I know you want me,” and that dumb expression he thought was his secret weapon.

And I thought: Does he really believe I’d fall at his feet after this low-budget softcore setup he clearly planned?

I had two options. I could tell him, plainly, that I’m into a completely different kind of guy — younger, less full of himself — or… I could have a little fun and spice things up with a tiny spell.

I chose the second option.

The magic was simple, and the effect was instant. Right before my eyes, vain Cesare began to change: his bulky frame shrank within seconds, muscles deflating like balloons, his squared jaw softened, and his features morphed into those of a much younger guy, with a fresh face and soft hair. His eyes, now wide and clear, looked at me with a mix of surprise and shyness.

Finally — exactly the kind of presence I actually wanted on my bed.

And now, my dear, I thought with a satisfied smirk, you’re going to get exactly what you came for… just not in the way you imagined.

[kyunghwannie]

𝐆𝐀𝐌3 𝐁𝐎1

Myoui Mina x Male Reader

➤ Word count: 22012

➤ Tags: Slightly Public Sex, Rough Face Fucking, Pussy eating, Collarbone and Navel worship, Creampie (Pussy), Anal Creampie, Doggy and Prone bone position (lots of), Outercourse (No Clothes version), Cum drinking, Excessive Squirting, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Switch!Mina

➤ Description: Gaming was one of her favourite hobbies. Despite having her own customised gaming PC for herself, there are times when she goes to new PC bang with one of TWICE's manager as security. Today was no different. Untill, she sees that the floor wasn't empty as she expected or booked when she found out she had a rather intriguing side mate. What happens when two gamers meet? Is it only games they will play or something else..?

The world knew Myoui Mina as TWICE’s elegant, enigmatic penguin—her delicate beauty, poised demeanor, and mesmerizing performances were enough to captivate millions. Some adored her for her stunning visuals, others for the quiet warmth she carried beneath her reserved nature. But beyond the stage, away from flashing cameras and roaring crowds, Mina had passions that felt far more personal. One of them was gaming.

In one of JYPE’s behind-the-scenes videos, fans had seen her immersed in Minecraft, effortlessly navigating the blocky landscapes with the same grace she carried on stage. What they didn’t see, however, was her excitement for a fresh, untouched server or the satisfaction of crafting a perfect world with nothing but time and creativity. It was in those moments—clicking away at her custom gaming PC—that Myoui Mina wasn’t an idol. She was just another gamer.

Still, even with a high-end setup at home, there was something irresistibly nostalgic about a PC bang—the dim neon lights, the faint scent of coffee and energy drinks, the quiet hum of countless machines running at once. It was a different kind of thrill, one she indulged in when she could. Of course, being Myoui Mina of TWICE meant she couldn’t simply walk in unnoticed. So, when a new PC bang opened up, she decided to check it out—this time, with an extra sense of security.

The low rumble of the van’s engine filled the space, the steady rhythm almost lulling her into a light daze. Mina leaned against the window, her fingers lazily tracing the cool glass as droplets of rain began to form outside. She exhaled softly. "The weather is gloomy, huh? Arasso..." Across from her, the manager chuckled while keeping his eyes on the road. "You always say that, Mina. You don’t like rainy days?"

Mina tilted her head, watching the darkening sky. "Ani, I don’t hate them… just makes everything feel slow." The manager nodded, maneuvering the van through the quiet streets. "Well, good thing we’re going somewhere fun then. This PC bang’s new, and it’s got a private section. No worries about fans suddenly recognizing you."

Mina pulled at the sleeves of her cropped jacket, letting the soft fabric bunch slightly at her wrists. Dressed in a black tank top, a greyish-silver cropped jacket, and matching sweatpants, she felt comfortably casual—an outfit that matched the laid-back anticipation bubbling beneath her usual calm.

"Mm. That’s good," she murmured, her jet-black hair falling effortlessly over her shoulders as she turned her gaze back to the window. The city lights flickered through the glass, and somewhere between the neon glow and the soft patter of rain, a small smile tugged at her lips.

A new place. A new game. She had no idea that tonight, she wasn’t the only one logging in.

The rain had settled into a light drizzle by the time the van slowed to a stop. The street outside was quiet, save for the occasional car passing by, headlights reflecting off the damp pavement. Mina glanced up at the building before her—a sleek, modern design with soft neon accents lining the entrance, giving it an almost futuristic feel.

"We're here," the manager announced, shifting the van into park before turning to face her. "They’ve already prepared everything for you upstairs. No one else will be on that floor, so you can relax."

Mina nodded, pushing open the door with practiced ease. The cool night air greeted her skin, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the van. She adjusted the fit of her greyish-silver cropped jacket, making sure it sat comfortably over her black tank top, then ran a hand through her jet-black hair, smoothing it down as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

The PC bang’s entrance glowed invitingly, a stark contrast to the gloomy weather. Through the glass doors, she could already see the lower floor—rows of high-end gaming setups illuminated by RGB lights, a few scattered gamers lost in their own worlds, fingers flying across keyboards, their faces bathed in the soft glow of their screens. The air inside carried a familiar mix of freshly brewed coffee, faint traces of snacks, and the subtle hum of machinery—a comforting blend, one she associated with hours of uninterrupted gaming.

The manager led the way, pushing open the door as a polite receptionist behind the counter gave a respectful nod. "Welcome, Miss Myoui. Your floor has been fully reserved as per request. Please, follow me."

Mina offered a small, appreciative smile before following the staff member toward the back of the room. As she walked, her sharp eyes took in the details—the modern leather seating along the walls, the discreet soundproofing panels, the warm yet vibrant lighting that made the space feel lively without being overwhelming.

A short hallway led to a private elevator, its sleek black doors sliding open with a gentle chime. Mina stepped inside, her reflection briefly staring back at her in the polished metal walls before the doors closed, and the ascent to the VIP floor began.

When the doors slid open again, Mina immediately understood why this place was different. Unlike the energetic, communal feel of the lower floor, the VIP section exuded tranquility. The lighting was softer here, casting a warm, golden glow that contrasted beautifully with the cool neon accents embedded into the walls. The air was perfectly temperature-controlled, and the faint hum of the high-performance gaming PCs blended seamlessly into the peaceful ambiance.

She stepped out, her sneakers making no sound against the plush carpeting. The space was designed for comfort and luxury without losing the essence of a true gaming haven. Large, ergonomic chairs lined the high-end setups, each desk spaced just far enough apart to ensure privacy. There were even cozy lounge areas, complete with bean bags and small coffee tables, ideal for short breaks between matches.

Mina ran her fingers lightly along the edge of a nearby desk, noting the quality of the materials. "They really went all out, huh?" she mused, her voice barely above a whisper.

The manager chuckled beside her. "TWICE’s name holds weight. When I told them who was coming, they made sure everything was top-tier." Mina sighed, dropping into one of the sleek gaming chairs, letting the memory foam cushion mold to her shape. "Feels nice."

The staff member who had escorted them earlier stepped forward. "If you need anything—food, drinks, or assistance with the equipment—please don’t hesitate to press the service button. We’ll be on standby downstairs."

Mina simply nodded, already glancing toward the monitor in front of her. The moment she settled into place, a familiar excitement bubbled beneath her usual composed exterior. She reached for the sleek mechanical keyboard, pressing a key to bring the screen to life. The monitor flickered, loading the homepage of a well-known gaming platform.

The world around her seemed to fade into the background. Here, she wasn’t Mina of TWICE—she wasn’t the poised performer with millions of eyes watching her every move. Here, she was just a gamer, ready to lose herself in a world of pixels and possibilities. What she didn’t know was that tonight, she wasn’t alone.

The rain had let up slightly by the time I arrived at the PC bang, the neon glow of the entrance reflecting off the damp pavement. I stepped inside, brushing a few stray droplets from my hoodie as the warm air of the establishment wrapped around me. The familiar scent of coffee, electronics, and a hint of instant ramen filled my senses—it was the kind of place where time disappeared, where hours melted away in the glow of monitors and the rapid clicks of mechanical keyboards.

I had been looking forward to this. A new PC bang, freshly opened, promising top-tier setups, a cozy atmosphere, and a VIP section that guaranteed privacy—exactly what I needed. I wasn’t a professional gamer or anything, but I enjoyed my fair share of gaming marathons. Having a dedicated, quiet space to lose myself in a session without distractions? Perfect.

Approaching the counter, I gave a polite nod to the young woman at reception. She was typing something on her screen, her eyes flitting back and forth between multiple windows. I could see a faint crease forming between her brows, an almost imperceptible tension in her shoulders.

"Hey," I greeted, leaning slightly against the counter. "I have a VIP reservation. Booked it a while back."

Her fingers stopped mid-type. She blinked once. Twice. Then, a look of realization—followed immediately by sheer panic—washed over her face. "Oh no…" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

I raised an eyebrow. "That’s not a great reaction."

She straightened quickly, forcing a tight-lipped smile that did absolutely nothing to hide her obvious distress. "Uhm, sir, could you give me just a moment?" She clicked rapidly through her system, her fingers moving almost frantically. "I… I see your booking, but there’s, uh, a situation."

I folded my arms, tilting my head. "A situation?"

She swallowed, clearly debating something internally before sighing in defeat. "I won’t lie to you. We accidentally double-booked the VIP floor today… and the other guest has already arrived."

I exhaled sharply through my nose, not in anger, but in mild exasperation. "Let me guess, they’re someone important?" She hesitated. "I… can’t disclose their name."

That was enough of an answer in itself. If she had no issue telling me about their existence but couldn’t say who they were, that meant they were high-profile. A celebrity? A streamer? Someone with influence?

I wasn’t one to make a scene over a mistake, but I also wasn’t about to just walk away. I had booked this spot well in advance for a reason. Besides, if I left now, I’d just end up back home, staring at the same old setup in my room.

"Alright," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "How about this—you take me to them, and I’ll talk to them myself?" The receptionist’s eyes widened slightly. "You… want to talk to them?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. If they’re cool with sharing, maybe we can just game together. I don’t bite." She chewed her lip, considering, before nodding. "Okay… But just so you know, they might say no."

"Then at least I tried." With that, she gestured for me to follow, leading me past the general gaming floor and toward the private elevator at the back.

As the elevator doors slid open, I immediately noticed the shift in atmosphere. The VIP floor was completely different from the main area below. The lighting was warmer, more intimate, without sacrificing the sleek, high-tech feel of a gamer’s paradise. Each station had top-of-the-line PCs, ergonomic chairs, even small lounge spaces with bean bags and plush seating for breaks between sessions. The air was quieter, almost tranquil, save for the gentle hum of high-performance machines waiting to be used.

And sitting near the far end, lost in the glow of a monitor, was someone I immediately recognized.

Myoui Mina.

I nearly stopped in my tracks. "You have got to be kidding me."

Of all the people in Seoul, of all the possible VIP guests, it just had to be her. TWICE’s elegant, quiet, insanely talented penguin. A world-renowned performer known for her grace, her stunning visuals, and, of course, her love for gaming.

The receptionist hesitated beside me, likely wondering if I was about to freak out or back out. Instead, I let out a small breath and collected myself.

"Alright," I muttered. "Let’s do this."

The receptionist approached cautiously, clearing her throat as she stopped beside Mina’s station. "Miss Myoui?"

Mina, who had been adjusting her in-game settings, turned her head slightly. Her jet-black hair fell effortlessly over one shoulder, her expression neutral but observant as she took in the sudden interruption.

"Hmm?" Her voice was soft, but firm.

The receptionist glanced at me nervously before speaking. "There’s, um… been a bit of a mix-up. This gentleman here also had a VIP booking for today, made long before we confirmed yours. We, uh… We were hoping you might be open to discussing a possible solution."

Mina’s gaze flickered to me, her deep brown eyes studying me with quiet curiosity. For a second, I wondered if she thought I was just another fan, someone who had engineered this situation on purpose just to meet her. I wasn’t. I had no idea she’d even be here tonight.

I took a step forward, offering a small, casual shrug. "Hey. I know this is sudden, and I don’t want to make things complicated for you. If you’d rather have the floor to yourself, I’ll step back. But—" I tilted my head, a smirk playing at my lips. "—if you don’t mind some company, maybe we can just game together for a bit? No pressure."

Mina didn’t respond right away. Instead, she simply… looked at me. Really looked at me. Not like an idol sizing up a fan. Not like someone wary of an intruder in her space. Just… a gamer assessing another gamer.

After a moment, she turned fully toward me, her fingers idly tapping against her desk. Her outfit—a black tank top, cropped greyish-silver jacket, and matching sweatpants—gave her an effortlessly laid-back but striking look. The lighting above cast a soft glow against her flawless complexion, making her already ethereal presence even more surreal.

Then, finally, she spoke.

"What do you play?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

Her lips twitched, almost amused. "What games do you play?"

I huffed a small laugh, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "A bit of everything. FPS, RPGs, MOBAs, you name it."

Mina’s brows lifted slightly. "Minecraft?"

I grinned. "Oh, you have no idea how many late nights I’ve spent in that game."

She hummed, clearly considering something. Then, to my surprise, she motioned toward the empty gaming station beside her. "Sit. Let’s see how good you actually are."

The receptionist visibly relaxed, her shoulders dropping as she let out a quiet sigh of relief. I smirked slightly before pulling out the chair beside Mina’s, settling in. As the screen flickered to life before me, I couldn’t help but think— This was already shaping up to be an interesting night.

I shrugged off my jacket and hooked it onto a nearby corner, rolling my shoulders a bit. The room was warm enough, and I didn’t need the extra layer.

Beneath it, I wore a fitted black t-shirt—not tight enough to scream ‘look at me,’ but snug enough to emphasize the lean, athletic build I had naturally maintained. Not a hulking gym monster, not some lanky string bean—just a balance. Functional muscle. Firm, but not excessive. Matched with black sweatpants, the whole look ended up as an unintentional all-black outfit. Not on purpose, just… happened.

Pulling my blu-ray glasses from my pocket, I slid them on. I didn’t actually need them, not for any prescription reason, but they helped with screen fatigue—and, let’s be real, they looked good.

That’s when I felt it. Not just a glance. A stare. Not a quick flicker of the eyes. A full, toe-to-head scan. And I didn’t even need to look directly to know who it was. I kept my focus on logging in, fingers moving over the keyboard smoothly, but my peripheral vision didn’t miss a thing.

Mina was staring at me.

Not a simple ‘oh, new person’ look. No, this was something else. Something longer. Something assessing, maybe admiring. Her gaze moved slowly, taking me in, analyzing.

Her eyes trailed from my shoulders, down my arms, my torso, the way my shirt fit just right—and when I shifted slightly, pretending not to notice, she snapped back up. Her expression was neutral… except for one thing. The faintest upturn of her lips. An almost-smirk. Maybe

Still, I acted as if I didn’t catch her. Last thing I wanted was to make her feel awkward about it, especially since this was the first time we were meeting.

Instead, I settled into my chair, adjusting the armrests slightly before pulling my keyboard closer. I logged into my account, fingers flying across the keys out of habit. My profile popped up on the screen, along with my usual game list. A mix of FPS, strategy, and a few unexpected titles.

I could feel her eyes still lingering, even if briefly. "Alright," I said casually, finally glancing at her. "What’s the plan? Are we jumping into a lobby, or are you going to make me prove myself first?"

Mina leaned back slightly in her chair, her lips pressing together in mock contemplation. "Hmm… tempting." Her voice was smooth, quiet yet deliberate. It had that same graceful quality as when she performed—but here, in a private setting, there was a relaxed ease to it.

She turned her gaze back to the screen, her fingers tapping lightly on her mouse. "Let’s warm up first. See if you can keep up."

I smirked. "Oh, you’re underestimating me already?"

Mina’s lips twitched again. "Not at all. Just… gauging expectations." There it was again. That small, subtle challenge hidden beneath her composed demeanor.

I cracked my knuckles. "Alright, Myoui. Let’s see what you’ve got." And with that, we entered the game.

As we set up the world, I heard something unexpected—Mina giggling.

I turned my head slightly, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

She barely suppressed another laugh, pointing at the screen. "Your Minecraft name." I followed her finger to the game lobby where my username was displayed in all its majestic, raw-power glory.

"BlockDaddy."

I crossed my arms, feigning offense. "Excuse me, that name has class. It commands respect. It radiates authority." Mina tilted her head, her voice dripping with amusement. "It sounds like it radiates… something, alright." I smirked. "And what about yours, huh? Why are you judging me when your MC name is literally ‘PenguinEmpress’?"

Her fingers paused on her keyboard before she turned to me, looking almost caught. "It’s a respectable name."

"Oh yeah? Empress of what? Waddling?"

She scoffed playfully, giving my shoulder a light nudge before returning her attention to the world creation screen. "Let’s just get started."

As we went through the settings—choosing a biome, tweaking a few gameplay aspects—Mina suddenly spoke up, her tone a little different this time. "You’re… really calm."

I glanced at her. "That a bad thing?"

She shook her head. "No, it’s just… most people—most guys—act differently around me. But you don’t seem fazed at all."

Ah. So that’s what this was about.. I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms slightly before responding. "Don’t get me wrong, Mina. I’ve been a fat-ass ONCE since 2015. TWICE has been my group since your debut, and I adored you—still do. As an idol and as a person. Everything I saw from my phone, concerts, your live stages... You’re amazing."

Her fingers stilled on her mouse for just a second, as if she wasn’t expecting that honesty.

I continued, my voice steady. "But that doesn’t mean I see you as some antique to be put on display and gawked at. That’d be weird. You’re a person first."

She blinked, looking at me with something between surprise and appreciation.

I exhaled, shaking my head with a chuckle. "And honestly? My mom would smack the hell out of me if she ever heard I gawked at girls." Mina perked up at that, clicking to enter the world seed. "Why is that?"

I smiled at the memory. "She taught me three things growing up. One—when a woman says ‘no,’ it’s law. No debates, no arguments, no excuses."

Mina’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but she nodded.

"Two—if you love someone, show it in actions, not just words. Anyone can say they care, but proving it? That’s different."

She swallowed slightly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing her keyboard’s edge.

I finished, my tone softer now. "And three—never make someone you care about question their worth. If you do, you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as them."

For a moment, there was only the quiet hum of the PCs and the distant murmur of the reception desk. Mina didn’t speak immediately. But I saw it. That slight shift in her expression. The way her grip on her mouse softened. The small, nearly imperceptible intake of breath. Something about my words struck her. And though she didn’t say it outright, I could tell—something inside her clicked. Like an automatic ‘Feel safe around him’ button had been pressed.

As soon as we spawned into the world, Mina’s soft giggle echoed beside me. I swear, my heart nearly skipped a beat.

I turned to look at her, but her gaze was locked onto my in-game character. "What?" I asked, half-curious, half-bracing myself for whatever she found amusing.

She pointed at my Minecraft skin, her lips curling into another giggle. "Your name is BlockDaddy, but… your skin is a duck?"

I glanced at the screen, my custom-made pixelated duck standing proudly on the grassy block. "Hey, this is not just any duck. This is a high-quality, hand-crafted, uniquely designed duck skin."

Mina grinned, leaning slightly closer. "It’s adorable. I expected something… tougher. Like a knight or a warrior." I crossed my arms, smirking. "And what, a duck can’t be a warrior? This is Duck of War. You underestimate my power."

Mina laughed, shaking her head before focusing back on the game. "Alright, Duck of War, here’s the plan. We’re speedrunning to find an Ancient City." I whistled. "Going straight for the deep dark, huh? Bold."

"Of course." She shrugged as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "But first, we need to survive. That means breaking trees, crafting tools, gearing up, and getting food." I mused, "Sounds like a plan, PenguinEmpress."

We started off punching trees, the most classic Minecraft move. Mina worked efficiently, gathering logs and crafting a workbench, while I—well, I got distracted. "Hey, look at that bee."

Mina turned just in time to see me accidentally punch it. "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!" she shrieked, eyes wide as the angry swarm descended upon me.

I ran in circles, desperately trying to escape while she laughed uncontrollably. "This is a disaster! I didn’t mean to!" "Actions have consequences!" she teased between laughs, watching as my character took rapid poison damage. "I regret nothing." I said dramatically before collapsing from bee stings.

A few minutes later, when we finally got back on track, I decided to test my luck again. "Hey, you ever seen a creeper up close?" Mina’s tone turned suspicious. "Why do I feel like I’m about to regret answering this?"

"Come here, let me show you something." She cautiously followed as I led her to a cave opening. I pointed ahead where a creeper stood completely still. "Now, if you stand just the right distance away—"

I took a step forward—BOOM. The explosion sent us both flying backward. Mina let out a loud, startled "YA!" before dissolving into laughter. "What was the plan there?!" I groaned, respawning at our original spawn point. "I don’t know. I thought maybe it would just stare at me menacingly." She said, "BlockDaddy, your survival skills are questionable."

We continued gathering resources, finally crafting iron tools and armor. At one point, I turned to see Mina standing perfectly still, looking at a cow.

I tilted my head. "Uh… you good?"

She sighed dramatically. "I don’t want to kill it."

I chuckled. "We need food, Mina."

She groaned, reluctantly pulling out her sword. "I’m sorry, Mr. Moo…"

The cow made one final “Moo.” Then silence.

Mina sighed. "I’m never doing that again."

I patted her virtual shoulder. "I’ll handle the hunting. You just… continue being an Empress of Peace."

She gave a small, grateful smile. An hour passed in what felt like minutes. Between accidental mob encounters, mistimed jumps, me getting lost multiple times, and Mina laughing at every dumb mistake I made, the experience was just pure fun. And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to enjoy Mina’s presence a little too much. And maybe she is too.

As I focused on gathering materials, my gaze subtly drifted to my side, observing Mina through my peripheral vision. God… she was beautiful. Not just in the way celebrities are, not in the way someone is labeled "pretty" by default. No—Mina was ethereal. It was as if the deities had taken their time, sculpting every delicate detail of her in her mother’s womb with divine precision. Her flawless jet-black hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her elegant face. The soft glow from the monitor illuminated her porcelain skin, her lips slightly parted as she focused on the game. Her long lashes fluttered when she blinked, and even that felt captivating. It wasn’t fair. How could someone look so effortlessly breathtaking just sitting there, clicking away at a keyboard?

I blinked, shaking myself out of my trance—only to realize she had caught me. Mina smirked, her eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. "You’ve been staring for a while, BlockDaddy."

Busted. I let out a small chuckle, my fingers still tapping away on my keyboard. "Ah… sorry about that." Mina tilted her head slightly, her smirk deepening. "For what?"

I exhaled, deciding there was no point in dancing around it. "For staring. But to be fair…" I glanced at her briefly before turning back to the game. "It’s hard not to when you look… well, the way you do."

Silence.. I wasn’t sure if she was caught off guard or if she was processing my words, so I continued. "You’re just… ethereal. That’s the only way I can describe it."

From the corner of my eye, I saw her blush beautifully. The pink hue dusting her cheeks was faint, but under the soft lighting, it was impossible to miss. Mina was used to compliments. As an idol, she probably heard them thousands of times from fans, interviewers, and industry professionals. But something about my words—the rawness, the honesty, the lack of flirtatious pretense���seemed to catch her off guard.

She twirled a strand of her hair, looking down at her keyboard for a moment before letting out a soft breath.Then, with a bashful smile, she said something that nearly made my brain short-circuit. "You’re really lovely looking too, you know."

I blinked. "Huh?" She chuckled at my reaction before giving me a curious look. "I’m serious. You’ve got this… effortless charm. And, well…" she paused, "Why aren’t you a model? If not an idol, at least?"

I rubbed the back of my neck, exhaling. "Low confidence back then, I guess." I shrugged. "Now? Who knows. Maybe it’s too late. Maybe not." Mina studied me, her eyes holding something I couldn’t quite place—admiration, intrigue, something else?

I smirked, breaking the moment. "Why? You interested in my past? You trying to dig deep, PenguinEmpress?" She immediately blushed, her brows furrowing as she turned back to the game. "Shut up." Before I could react, her character punched mine straight into a pool of lava. I let out a loud gasp. "Mina! Murder! This is a crime!"

She burst into laughter, covering her mouth with one hand as I watched my blocky self burn to a crisp. Luckily, I had been smart enough to store my loot in a chest nearby, so all I lost was a stone pickaxe and a stone sword.

Still, I made sure to let out an exaggerated sigh. "This is what I get for speaking facts, huh?" Mina, still giggling, shrugged. "You were getting too smug. Had to humble you."

I chuckled, shaking my head as I respawned. "Noted. Praise Mina, but don’t get cocky about it." She flashed me a playful grin. "Exactly."

And just like that, the game continued. But something in the air had shifted. Maybe it was the teasing. Maybe it was the lingering warmth of our conversation. Or maybe, just maybe—Mina was starting to see me in a different light.

As we continued gathering resources, crafting gear, and making progress toward our goal, I couldn’t help but notice something. Every single time Mina turned toward my in-game character—even if it was just for a split second—her lips would curl into a small, airy giggle. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Maybe she was just in a good mood. Maybe she found something funny in the game. But then it happened again. And again.

I turned my camera to glance at her blocky character. "Alright, what’s so funny?"

Mina covered her mouth, trying to suppress yet another giggle. "Nothing."

I raised a brow. "Uh-huh. Sure. You’ve been giggling for the past fifteen minutes. I doubt it’s ‘nothing.’"

She shifted in her chair, still smiling as she broke some trees for wood. "It’s just…" she trailed off before stealing another glance at me. "Your name tag."

I blinked. My name tag? I pressed F5 to swap my camera view, tilting my head at the blocky text floating above my character’s head: "BlockDaddy." Ah. Right. I smirked. "What? You judging my name now?"

Mina shook her head, her fingers still tapping at her keyboard as she crafted some planks. "I mean… it's just so…" She paused, clearly trying to find the right words. "Powerful? Elegant? Raw and full of class?" I supplied dramatically. She outright laughed at that. "Sure, if that’s what you want to call it."

I leaned back in my chair. "Okay, Miss ‘PenguinEmpress.’ You’re laughing at me when your username is literally something out of an aristocratic fairytale?" Mina huffed, crossing her arms. "It suits me!"

"And ‘BlockDaddy’ suits me." She rolled her eyes but kept smiling. "It’s just funny seeing it float above your head all the time."

I hummed. "So you’ve been looking at me a lot then?" Silence. Mina’s fingers momentarily froze on her keyboard before she quickly turned her focus back to the game. "Shut up." I grinned, feeling a small sense of victory. "I’m just saying. You keep looking, you keep giggling…"

"I’m not looking, I’m just… noticing." I snorted. "Right. You ‘notice’ a lot, huh?" She groaned, lightly smacking my arm before returning to the game. "You’re impossible."

I chuckled, but deep down, I felt something warm settle in my chest. The way Mina was comfortable enough to joke around like this, the way her laughter seemed unfiltered and real—it felt nice.

Between our gameplay, Mina suddenly asked, "So, what do you do?" I glanced at her character still mining, then back at my screen as I casually started organizing my inventory. "Nothing too exciting," I said. "My name’s L/N Y/N, born August 9, 1995." There was a pause. Then, Mina let out a small "Oh." I arched a brow. "What?" She turned to me with a teasing glint in her eyes. "That means you’re my Oppa."

I blinked. Oh, right. She was born on March 24, 1997, which meant I was older—same ‘95 liner like her Nayeon-unnie.

I let out a small chuckle. "Guess that makes sense, huh?" Mina giggled. "Mmm, Y/N-oppa. Has a nice ring to it."

I swallowed. Damn, the way she said that was dangerous. "Anyway, I own a café chain," I continued, steering the conversation forward. "And I have some side gigs in multiple things. That’s about it."

Mina hummed in interest. "Café chain, huh? That sounds nice. I’d love to visit one day." I said softly, "You’re welcome anytime. Drinks are on me."

She smiled before suddenly asking, "Do you have a significant other?" My fingers momentarily stilled on my keyboard. "Nope."

A second of silence passed. And then—so faint I almost didn’t catch it— "Good."

My brows furrowed. "Hm? What was that?" Mina’s shoulders stiffened slightly before she brushed it off. "Nothing. Just talking to myself." I didn’t push further. Instead, I simply let her steer the conversation away. "What’s your ideal type, Oppa?" she asked playfully. I chuckled. "That’s a tough one."

Mina waited expectantly as I thought for a moment before saying, "Someone who can warm my heart in a way that washes all my worries and stress away." She blinked. "That’s… actually really unique." I shrugged. "I guess I just prefer the kind of love that feels like home." Mina’s lips parted slightly, as if taken aback by the depth of my answer. But then, she smirked. "And what about body type?"

My breath hitched slightly at the sudden change in topic. "Body type?" She nodded, amusement dancing in her gaze. "C’mon, Oppa. Spill. Do you like something soft and cute? Or are you more into toned and sexy?"

My face warmed. "Mina—" "Boobs?" she teased. "Mina." "Ass?" "Mina." She giggled. "What? It’s a simple question." I groaned, rubbing my face. "Why are you doing this to me?" She leaned closer. "Because I’m curious." I exhaled sharply before reluctantly mumbling, "Collarbone and navel."

Mina blinked once. Then twice. I risked a glance at her and—oh my god, she looked so surprised. "Collarbone and navel?" she repeated, as if processing my words. I nodded slowly. "Yeah. It’s just… I don’t know. Something about them is really attractive to me."

Mina remained silent for a moment before laughing softly. "Huh. I thought you’d pick something sappy like eyes or lips." I smirked. "Nah, those are too common." "Or maybe something hot like boobs or ass," she added playfully. I choked on air. "Mina, please—"

She giggled again, but then… something flickered in her gaze. Something knowing. I furrowed my brows, confused by her reaction. "What?" Mina shook her head, an amused yet slightly flustered smile playing on her lips. "Nothing. Just… it’s funny how you chose something unique." She turned back to the screen, her character moving forward again—but not before I caught the way her fingers subtly grazed her own collarbone. …Wait. Oh... Oh......Mina was really popular for her collarbones and navel in terms of visuals. My eyes widened slightly in realization. And from the way she suddenly looked so flustered—she definitely knew it too.

Time passed like mayflies, fleeting and unnoticeable. One moment, we were deep in the Minecraft caves, and the next… we were in Pacify. Why? No clue. It just happened. Maybe boredom? Maybe curiosity? Maybe a stupid collective decision to suffer? Either way—it was chaotic. The eerie music had barely begun before Mina tensed beside me, her hands gripping her mouse a little tighter.

"Why did we decide on this again?" she asked, her voice already laced with regret. I scoffed, adjusting my headset. "Don’t ask me, you clicked it too."

And then it began. We were in a dimly lit haunted house, our job being to pacify a demon girl (because apparently, we’re just built different like that). The wooden floors creaked with every step, and distant whispers sent shivers down my spine. Mina stuck close to me, her character practically glued to mine. "Oppa, don't leave me."

I almost choked on air. I heard it. I KNOW I heard it. But I couldn’t react to it—because at that moment, the demon girl flew straight at us. Mina let out a shrieking scream, her character whipping around and sprinting away like her life depended on it. I? I froze. Absolutely. Froze. And then I screamed. "NOPE. NOPE. NOPE—" I turned so fast that my mouse practically flew off the desk, my character crashing into furniture like a headless chicken. Mina was already laughing and panicking at the same time. "WHY IS SHE SO FAST?! WHY IS SHE SO FAST?!"

" I don’t know, Mina! Why did we even PLAY THIS?!" We somehow managed to escape into a random-ass room, slamming the door shut behind us. Silence. Both of us were breathing heavily, eyes locked on the screen. Then, in the quietest voice, Mina spoke. "I hate this game." I nodded, still recovering. "Same." And yet—we didn’t stop playing. From Pacify to Phasmophobia. Then from Phasmophobia to Devour. Then somehow, Outlast Trials. And I swear, for absolutely no reason at all, we ended up on Five Nights at Freddy’s like we had some death wish.

At this point, I wasn't even scared anymore—just exhausted from the constant tension and jumpscares. Mina, on the other hand, was still reacting to every unexpected sound, letting out soft squeals or startled gasps that were way too adorable for our current horror-filled setting. "Okay, okay, I'm done!" Mina huffed, pushing herself away from the desk dramatically. "No more horror games. My heart can’t handle it."

I sighed in relief, finally shutting my laptop. "Thank God. I think I lost five years of my life today." Mina giggled, stretching her arms above her head. "But it was fun, wasn’t it?" i smirked. "Depends. Are we measuring fun in ‘I had a great time’ or ‘I almost pissed myself multiple times’?"

She laughed at that, shaking her head. "Both?" I chuckled and stood up, stretching my stiff limbs. "Alright, let’s detox from all this terror. Dessert?" Her eyes lit up immediately. "Yes, please!" And so, with our horror-fueled game marathon behind us, we found ourselves sitting by the dining table, a plate of desserts between us. Sweet relief. Literally.

I took a sip of my drink, letting the cool liquid soothe my throat. Mina did the same, the soft clinking of utensils and cups filling the air. "So," I started, leaning back comfortably. "Tell me something about yourself that I don’t already know." Mina tapped her chin in thought, then smiled. "How about TWICE’s latest album?" I nodded, interested. "The 13th Mini Album?" She grinned. "‘With YOU-th.’ Yeah. It’s really special to us."

I could hear the genuine warmth in her voice, the way she spoke about her group with so much love and appreciation. Mina then started sharing little behind-the-scenes stories—how the concept was created, how much effort they poured into the album, how the members supported each other through it all. I listened intently, admiring the passion in her voice. Then, a memory surfaced.

"By the way," I said suddenly. "You looked gorgeous during the pre-chorus in red." Mina blinked, taken aback. "Huh?" I shrugged, taking another sip of my drink. "I mean it. You looked stunning. The way the lighting hit you, the expressions you had—it was all just… breathtaking."

Silence. Then, Mina slowly lowered her spoon, her lips slightly parted as if caught off guard. I raised an eyebrow. "What?" She shook her head, smiling softly. "You’re… really something, you know that?" I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"

She chuckled. "Most people would say something flirty or try to be slick about it. But you—" She gestured toward me. "You just say things so honestly. It’s refreshing." I scratched my cheek, feeling a little self-conscious. "I don’t know… I guess I just prefer sincerity over beating around the bush."

She stared at me for a moment before smiling. "I like that about you." A small warmth spread through my chest at her words, but before I could say anything, Mina sighed contently, resting her chin on her hand. "Today was such a lovely getaway," she murmured. "With all the promotions, shows, and schedules, things can get overwhelming sometimes."

I nodded, understanding. "I can imagine. TWICE’s workload must be insane." She smiled, twirling her spoon in her fingers. "It is, but I’m grateful. My members and I—no matter how tough things get, we pull through together. They’re my family."

I smiled. "That’s beautiful." She sighed again, but this time, it was different. A bit… softer. And then, in the quietest voice, she spoke. "But sometimes… times like this can be healing too." I looked at her, my chest tightening at the sincerity in her tone. But what she said next? It made my heart stop. "I think I want to thank fate that I met you today."

I froze. Did she just— Mina, realizing what she had just admitted, suddenly looked away, her fingers lightly gripping the edge of the table as if grounding herself. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. The air between us shifted—not awkward, but… charged. I took a breath, forcing myself to stay composed. "That means a lot, Mina." She peeked at me from beneath her lashes, a small smile forming. "It’s true." And just like that, the moment settled into something… beautifully unspoken. No rush. No expectations. Just two people, sharing a moment in time.

The soft hum of the approaching van signaled the end of our time together. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but I could see visible reluctance on Mina’s face as she glanced toward the headlights illuminating the night down outside the café of the PC bang. Her fingers fidgeted lightly against the table, her lips pressed together as if holding something back.

I tilted my head, concerned. "Something wrong?" Mina hesitated, then sighed softly. "I… don’t want to leave yet." I blinked. "Huh?" She bit her lip, her gaze dropping for a second before looking at me again. "I don’t want to go away from you just yet…"

I felt my heart skip a beat. Did she just—? I stared at her, completely stunned. This was Myoui Mina—one of the most elegant and composed people I had ever met. And yet, she was sitting here, openly admitting that she wasn’t ready to part ways with me. Was she… getting attached to my presence?

Mina let out a small chuckle, probably noticing my dumbfounded reaction. "Sorry, that must've sounded a bit strange." I shook my head, still processing. "No, it’s just…" I rubbed the back of my neck. "Didn’t expect that." She smiled softly. "Neither did I."

But before I could say anything more, the van honked twice—a gentle reminder from the driver that her time was up. Mina sighed once more, but this time with resignation. "Work calls," she murmured, pushing herself up from her seat. I stood up as well, instinctively guiding her toward the staircase. "Come on, I’ll walk you down." She nodded, and together, we descended the stairs, the warmth of our time together still lingering in the air between us.

As we reached the ground floor and stepped into the quiet lobby, I pressed the elevator button. The doors slid open with a soft chime, and we stepped inside, the small space amplifying the closeness between us. Neither of us spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged, heavy with something unspoken. The elevator reached the ground floor, and as we walked toward the exit where the van waited, Mina suddenly stopped.

I turned to her, curious. "Mina?"

She held out her hand. "Give me your phone."

I hesitated for a second before handing it over. With a few quick taps, she typed something in and handed it back. I glanced down. 미나🐧– Personal. My brain short-circuited. Oh shit. Someone give me the ‘Luckiest ONCE’ title right now.

Before I could even process my newfound blessing, Mina did something that completely wrecked me. She took a step closer—so close I could feel the faint warmth radiating from her. And then— A kiss. Not a peck. Not a quick smooch. A full-on lip lock.

My mind blanked as her soft, plumpy lips pressed into mine, moving gently but firmly, sucking slightly on my lower lip. She tasted like something sweet—bubblegum? Strawberry? I didn’t know, and honestly, I didn’t care. For five whole seconds, we were locked in that moment. Five seconds of warmth. Of softness. Of something dangerously intoxicating. Then, she slowly pulled away, her cheeks a faint shade of pink, but her lips curled into a small, knowing smile. Was that… desire in her eyes? Or something more? I couldn’t think—I was still too shocked.

Mina let out a soft, almost teasing chuckle at my dumbstruck expression. "Be free tomorrow." I blinked. "Huh?" Her fingers lightly grazed mine as she stepped back toward the van. "We’re going to meet here again. Just the two of us. I have something planned."

I nodded mindlessly, still too dazed to do anything else. She gave me one last smile before stepping into the van, the door sliding shut behind her. As the vehicle pulled away, I remained rooted in place, the lingering warmth of her lips still burning against mine. Holy. Shit.

Late Night – My Bed

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I replayed everything. Mina’s reluctance to leave. Her words—"I don’t want to go away yet." The way she typed her personal number into my phone like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then—the kiss. Holy. Shit.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling deeply. That wasn’t just a peck. That was a five-second, full-on lip-lock. Sucking on my lower lip. Mina—Myoui Mina—kissed me. And the look in her eyes after? Something was there. Something deeper than just a spur-of-the-moment thing. My lips still tingled, phantom traces of her lingering warmth refusing to fade.

I turned on my side, staring at my phone on the nightstand. My heartbeat refused to settle. What was this? A one-time thing? A casual moment? Or… something more? I didn’t have an answer. But Mina did. Because the next morning, as the sun filtered through my blinds, my phone buzzed with a message.

Mina: Be free at 4 p.m. Come to the same place.

I sat up instantly, rubbing my eyes to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Nope. It was real. Mina wanted to see me again. Alone. And whatever she had planned—I was in.

Later That Day – PC Bang (4 P.M.)

I made sure to clear my schedule early. If Mina Myoui was setting up another meeting, no way in hell I was missing it. I swapped out yesterday’s outfit for something slightly different—white t-shirt, white pants, and a black leather jacket. Call it chic, call it flashy, I didn’t care. But it was swavy.

As I walked into the PC bang, the first floor was packed. College students, office workers, and hardcore gamers filled the space, their focus glued to screens, the clicking of mechanical keyboards filling the air. But I wasn’t here for the crowd. I headed straight upstairs to the VIP floor from yesterday. And then— There she was. Standing alone, waiting. And holy. Fucking. Hell. Mina was… lethal.

Her outfit was effortlessly stylish, dangerously captivating. A fitted navy blue short-sleeve top hugged her figure just right, with a subtle logo detail on the chest. A high-waisted, diagonally striped skirt in navy blue and brown flowed down to her ankles, elegant yet modern. White platform shoes added a bit of height, making her already graceful presence even more striking. A designer shoulder bag in bold navy blue and white stripes rested casually on her arm. And the killer touch? White cat-eye sunglasses perched delicately on her nose, exuding pure confidence.

But it wasn’t just the outfit. It was the way she wore it. Her long, straight black hair cascaded naturally down her back, shifting slightly as she moved, catching the dim PC bang lighting in a way that made her look effortlessly elegant.

She turned her head at my arrival, lowering her sunglasses slightly to glance at me. And then— A small, knowing smile curved her lips.

"You’re early," she said, voice smooth, teasing. I smirked, stuffing my hands in my jacket pockets. "You told me to be here at four. I don’t keep a beautiful woman waiting."

She chuckled, taking a step closer. "Good answer." Goddamn. I was in trouble. Mina’s eyes traced over me in a way that sent a subtle but undeniable heat creeping up my neck. "I like this look on you," she murmured, arms crossed, lips curving in a way that made my heart stutter. I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. "You saying that makes me feel like I actually have style." She tilted her head, amusement flickering in her dark eyes. "You do. Though, I think it’s more about how you carry yourself."

I huffed out a laugh, feeling the warmth of her words settle in my chest. "Well, in that case—" I let my gaze sweep over her, taking in the effortlessly sophisticated yet lethal aura she exuded. "You’re pulling off this whole ‘stunning and untouchable’ thing too well." Mina raised a brow, lips twitching. "Untouchable?" I smirked. "You’ve got that air about you. Like someone people admire from a distance but are too scared to approach." Mina held my gaze for a long second, then softly exhaled. "But you’re not scared." I shook my head. "Not even a little."

That earned me a small, pleased smile before she gestured towards a plush, leather couch in a cozy corner of the VIP floor. "Sit," she instructed gently. I was confused but did as she asked, leaning back comfortably. Mina remained standing, looking down at me with something unreadable in her gaze. I tilted my head, catching her eyes. "How was your day?"

She smiled softly. "It was good. Nothing too exciting. Just a casual chat at JYPE with the girls about our upcoming promotions." I nodded, but something in her demeanor shifted. A quiet moment passed before she spoke again, this time slower, more measured. "About yesterday…" I stiffened slightly, my fingers subtly curling into my palms.

Mina exhaled, her voice careful yet steady. "I kissed you on impulse." My breath hitched, but I stayed silent, letting her continue. "But… I couldn’t sleep at all last night." She hesitated, fingers gripping the strap of her shoulder bag. "Thinking about you. Thinking about what we are—if we’re anything at all."

A lump formed in my throat. Mina, the reserved, quiet, and poised woman, was unraveling just a little in front of me literally. And then— "I like you." The words were soft, vulnerable, yet unshakable in their truth. She swallowed, looking away briefly before meeting my gaze again. "I don’t know if it’s love. Maybe it’s too fast. But…" she exhaled, searching my face, "I don’t want to ignore it. I want to see where this goes." My heart pounded as she carefully chose her next words. "Can we see each other? Just us. Not public. No dating rumors. Just… us."

I let the weight of her words settle between us before answering, "Mina." My voice was steady, measured. "Dating someone like you, it’s not just about us. It’s the company, the fans, the media. I know how much is at stake for you."

She nodded, waiting. I inhaled, my tone turning softer. "But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel the same way." Mina’s lips parted slightly, her fingers twitching against her bag. "I admire you, not just as an idol but as Mina—the person." I leaned forward slightly, my voice gentle but firmly assuring and understanding. "So if this is something we both want, we’ll figure it out. Together."

Something flickered in her eyes. The same intensity from yesterday. Then— She took a step closer. Another. And before I could process it, she leaned down, catching my lips in a kiss once again. But this time— This wasn’t impulsive. This wasn’t a fleeting, stolen moment. This was a seal—a silent agreement, an unspoken promise. Mina kissed me with certainty and intent. And the way she wasn’t stopping told me one thing—This wasn’t ending with just a kiss.

The second Mina’s lips met mine again, something shifted between us—like a silent switch had been flipped. Her kiss started slow, almost tentative, but the way her fingers curled into the fabric of my jacket told a different story. She was holding back, but not for long. I pulled her closer by the waist, my hands sliding over the soft curve of her hips, savoring the way the silky fabric of her skirt bunched under my grip. She let out a quiet little gasp against my lips, and fuck, that sound went straight to my cock. But Mina wasn’t content with just kissing. Her fingers slipped beneath my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders with a quiet urgency before her hands slid up my chest, nails lightly scraping through the thin fabric of my white shirt.

"Mina—" I barely got her name out before she nipped at my bottom lip, her teeth dragging just enough to make me groan. "Hmm?" She hummed against my mouth, all feigned innocence, but the way her thigh brushed against my growing erection betrayed her. I smirked, gripping her waist tighter as I leaned in, my voice dropping to a low murmur. "You’re acting all shy, but your hands are already wandering." Her cheeks flushed pink, but her fingers didn’t stop—trailing down my stomach, teasingly slow, until they hooked into the waistband of my pants.

"Maybe I just like how you react," she whispered, her breath warm against my lips before she captured them again, this time with more heat. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, and I groaned, my hands finally giving in and sliding lower, palming the plush curve of her ass through that damn skirt. She let out a sharp little inhale, arching into my touch, her hips rocking forward just slightly—just enough—to let me feel her own growing need.

"Mmph—fuck, Mina," I growled, breaking the kiss to trail my lips down her jaw, my teeth grazing the delicate skin of her neck. "You gonna let me touch you properly, or are you just gonna tease me all night?" She shuddered, her fingers tightening in my hair before she pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, her gaze dark with want. "Who said," she breathed, shifting just enough to grind herself against my thigh, "that I was done teasing?"

And then—god help me—her hand slid down, her fingers pressing against the obvious bulge straining against my pants. "Hahh~... You’re already so hard for me," she murmured, biting her lip as she squeezed lightly, her thumb rubbing slow circles over the tip through the fabric. I swore under my breath, my grip on her hips tightening as I pulled her even closer, my lips crashing back into hers—hungrier this time, filthier, my tongue tangling with hers as my hands finally gave in to temptation and slipped beneath that stupidly elegant skirt.

The second my fingers brushed against the lace of her panties, she moaned into my mouth, her thighs trembling. "Mnngh~... Y/N—" I grinned against her lips, my fingers tracing the damp fabric teasingly. "Look at you," I whispered, "acting all demure when you’re this fucking wet already." Her breath hitched, her hips rolling against my hand as if she couldn’t help it.

The moment my fingers brushed against the damp lace of her panties, Mina—let out a breathy little moan that sent a jolt of heat straight to my cock. Her hips rolled instinctively against my hand, seeking more friction, but I teased, circling just barely where she wanted me most. "Mmph~... Y/N," she whined, her nails digging into my shoulders as she tried to chase my touch.

I chuckled , my lips trailing down her neck, sucking a mark into the delicate skin just below her ear. "So demanding for someone who was just playing innocent," I murmured, nipping at her pulse point. She shuddered, her voice dropping to a whisper—filthy with intent. "I never said I was innocent."

Before I could retaliate, her hand squeezed me through my pants, her fingers tracing the obscene outline of my cock with unhurried precision. "Ah~... You really are bigger than I imagined," she mused, her thumb pressing against the head, making me grit my teeth. "Were you hiding this from me?" I groaned, my hips bucking involuntarily into her touch. "Didn’t know you were this obsessed with checking." Mina laughed—soft, melodic, but wicked. "Obsessed? Maybe." She leaned in, her lips grazing my ear as she whispered, "Or maybe I just like knowing I can make you this hard without even trying." I tightened my grip on her thigh, my fingers slipping just barely beneath the soaked lace. "You’re not trying?" I challenged, dragging my fingertips upward, tracing her slit through the fabric. "Then why are you dripping, Mina?"

She hitched a sharp breath, her back arching, thighs trembling—but she didn’t stop palming me through my pants, her fingers stroking in time with my own teasing touches. "Hahh~... Because you—mmf—you make it impossible not to," she admitted, her voice shaky but bold. I smirked, dragging my lips back to hers, kissing her deeply as I finally slipped a finger beneath her panties, pressing flat against her clit. "Fuck," I growled against her mouth as she clenched around nothing, her hips grinding down desperately. "Mmmngh~... More," she demanded, her breath hot and uneven. I obliged, circling slowly, relishing the way her breath hitched, the way her nails scratched down my chest through my shirt. Then—she squeezed me again, her thumb flicking over the head of my cock through the fabric, and I hissed, my fingers faltering for a second. "Shit—Mina—" She pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, her dark eyes glazed with lust. "You like that?" she murmured, her grip tightening just so.

I groaned, my forehead dropping against hers as my fingers finally dipped lower, pressing just inside her entrance, teasing the tight, wet heat. "Fuck, you’re drenched," I muttered, my voice rough. Her lips curved into a smug little smile as she stroked me again, her touch maddeningly slow. "And you’re throbbing," she countered, biting her lip. "Guess we’re both a little desperate, huh?" I didn’t answer—couldn’t, not when she was rubbing circles into my cock while my fingers teased her dripping cunt, both of us caught in a filthy, agonizing game of who would break first.

Mina's fingers traced lazy circles around the swollen head of my cock through my pants as she leaned in, her lips brushing my ear. "You know what I keep thinking about?" Her voice had dropped to that breathy whisper that made my stomach flip. "How quiet you're trying to be right now... while just one floor below us, dozens of people are gaming completely unaware."

I swallowed hard, my fingers twitching against her lace-clad heat. "Fuck, Mina—" "Sharon," she corrected with a wicked little grin, applying just enough pressure to make me throb. "When I'm like this... call me Sharon." Her free hand slid up my chest, nails scraping lightly. "And I want to hear exactly what dirty thoughts are making you blush so hard right now." The way she said it—that mix of innocent curiosity and knowing sin—had my pulse racing. "I'm thinking..." I managed, my voice rough as my thumb found her clit through soaked fabric, "...about how bad you want me to fuck you right here where anyone could walk in." She let out a soft, shuddering moan, her hips jerking against my hand. "Mmm~... Keep talking."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" I growled, catching her earlobe between my teeth. "My quiet, elegant Mina... turned into a desperate little mess in some VIP booth." My fingers pressed deeper, just barely breaching her entrance. "You'd bite your lip to stay quiet while I stretch you open, wouldn't you?" Her breath hitched, her grip on me tightening. "Ah! Y-Y/N—"

"Or maybe," I continued, dragging my tongue along her jaw, "you wouldn't stay quiet. Maybe you'd want them to hear. Want them to know their precious idol is getting ruined right above their heads." Mina—no, Sharon—whimpered, her entire body trembling as her polished facade cracked. "Hahh~... Fuck, you're evil," she gasped, grinding down harder on my fingers. "What if I said yes? What if I want you to make me louder?" The challenge in her voice sent heat roaring through me. "Then I'd ask," I murmured, sucking a bruise into her collarbone, "if you'd rather ride me slow until you're crying... or if you want me to bend you over that console and pound you until the whole building hears how wet you are." She moaned, high and needy, her nails digging into my thighs. "Mmmf~... Both," she panted, her usual poise shattered. "I want—ah!—I want you to wreck me both ways." Her hand finally slipped beneath my waistband, her fingers wrapping around my bare cock with a greedy little squeeze. "Starting with this monster filling me up right now."

My fingers trembled slightly as they found the hem of Mina's navy blue top, the silk-like material whispering against her skin as I began lifting it. She raised her arms obediently, but the way her breath hitched betrayed her calm facade. The VIP room's dim lighting caught the subtle flush spreading across her chest as the fabric slid away, revealing that matching navy blue bra - delicate lace cupping her modest, perfect breasts. "God, look at you," I murmured, my thumbs tracing the underside of her bra. "These fucking perfect little handfuls..."

Mina's breath stuttered when I flicked open the front clasp with one hand, the bra falling away to reveal those deep pink nipples already pebbled tight. "Y/N—" I didn't let her finish. My mouth closed over her left nipple with a hungry groan, tongue swirling around the stiff peak while my palm cradled its twin. The way she arched, fingers scrambling at my shoulders, only made me suck harder.

"Ah! Ngh~... S-so sensitive—" Her back bowed beautifully as I switched sides, teeth grazing her right nipple just enough to make her thighs clamp around my waist. "Haahh~! W-wait, your mouth is—mmf!" I pulled back just enough to admire my work - her perfect little tits glistening, nipples swollen from attention. "You've got no idea how crazy you drive me," I confessed, trailing kisses down her sternum. "Big tits? Don't need 'em when yours are this fucking perfect to suck on."

Her embarrassed squeak when I licked a stripe down her belly was downright sinful. My hands spanned her waist as I worshipped that iconic Myoui navel, tongue dipping into the shallow dip before scraping teeth along its edges. Mina whined, her fingers tugging at my hair. "W-why are you—ah!—so obsessed with my stomach?" I nipped at her hipbone, grinning when she jolted. "Because it's yours," I murmured against her skin. "Because every damn fanboy watches your fancams just to see this tiny strip of skin when you lift your top." My tongue lapped at the quivering muscles. "But right now? Only I get to taste it."

Her breathing turned ragged as I worked my way back up, pausing to lavish attention on those collarbones that drove ONCEs wild. The way her pulse fluttered under my lips as I sucked a dark mark just above her bra line made my cock throb. "Mina..." I kissed the hollow of her throat. "You know what kills me?" She shook her head, eyes half-lidded. "That reserved, elegant image," I growled, palming her breasts again. "When underneath?" My thumb flicked her nipple. "You're this responsive. This needy."

Her mewl turned into a gasp when I suddenly lifted her, pressing her back against the plush VIP booth wall. Her legs instinctively wrapped around my waist, the damp heat between her thighs pressing against my abdomen. "W-wait—" I silenced her with a deep kiss, letting her taste herself on my lips. "Still worried about people downstairs?" I murmured against her mouth. Her pupils blew wide, that switch flipping again. "Make me forget about them," she challenged, nails scoring down my back. So I did.

Mina’s back arched beautifully as I guided her down onto the plush VIP couch, her skirt riding up her thighs as I settled between them. The booth’s dim lighting caught every nervous flutter of her stomach, every shaky breath that made her small, perfect tits rise and fall. I dragged my palms up the smooth skin of her inner thighs, savoring the way they trembled under my touch.

“Look at this…” I murmured, hooking my fingers into the waistband of her soaked panties—navy blue, just like the rest of her outfit. “Ruin your pretty little matching set already?” She whined, her hips lifting instinctively as I peeled the lace down her legs, revealing her glistening cunt—deep pink, just like her nipples, swollen and desperate. Her hands flew to her face, fingers spreading just enough for me to see her dark, lust-blown eyes. “Y-Y/N… please—” I chuckled, leaning forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh, teeth grazing just enough to make her jerk. “Please what, baby? Use your words.”

Her legs twitched as my breath ghosted over her exposed pussy, her scent sweet and heady. “Please don’t tease—” “But teasing you is so fun,” I purred, dragging my tongue in one slow, flat stripe from her entrance all the way up to her clit. Mina yelped, her back bowing off the couch as her hands fisted in the cushions. “F-fuck! Oh my god—!”

I grinned against her, licking into her again, savoring the way her hips stuttered up against my mouth. She was dripping, her tight little hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. “Mina…” I groaned, pulling back just enough to watch her glisten. “You’re so fucking tight—did you really never let anyone else touch you?” Her face burned crimson, her thighs clamping around my head as if trying to hide. “N-no… just—ah!—just my own fingers… and…” She bit her lip, voice dropping to a whisper. “…t-toys…”

The admission sent a possessive thrill through me. “Fuck,” I growled, spreading her open with my thumbs. “So this pretty little pussy’s been waiting for me?” Her responding moan was half-embarrassed, half-aroused—music to my fucking ears. I didn’t give her time to reply. My mouth crashed back onto her, tongue spearing inside without warning, fucking into her tight heat as she screamed, her hands flying to my hair. “HHHNNN—!” She tasted divine—sweet, musky, all Mina—and the way her walls pulsed around my tongue had my cock aching. I curled my fingers under her thighs, holding her open as I devoured her, alternating between deep, messy thrusts of my tongue and slow, torturous circles around her clit. Her hips rocked desperately against my mouth, her thighs shaking. “Y/N—hahh~!—I-I can’t—!”

I pulled back just enough to smirk up at her. “Can’t what?” I teased, blowing lightly on her soaked folds. “Can’t take it? Or can’t stop?” Mina whimpered, her chest heaving. “B-both…” That broke me. With a groan, I slid two fingers into her hard, crooking them just right against that spongy spot inside her. “Fuck, you grip me like you were made for it,” I groaned, fucking them in and out in slow, deliberate strokes while my tongue went back to her clit. Her back arched violently, a broken sob tearing from her throat. “NHHGAH—!” I could feel her getting closer, her cunt fluttering around my fingers, but I wasn’t done yet. Not even close. “Nuh-uh,” I murmured, slowing my movements to a torturous crawl. “Not yet.” Mina whined, her hips chasing my retreating touch. “W-why?!” I kissed her inner thigh, leaving a trail of bites down to her knee before meeting her gaze. “Because I want to hear you beg for it.” Her eyes darkened—Sharon was back.

The moment my fingers curled deeper inside her, Mina snapped. "Ah-ah~ Enough." Her hands fisted in my hair and yanked me up with surprising strength—her kiss crashing against mine, hot and demanding as she licked the taste of herself from my lips. I barely processed the dizzying shift before she shoved me back onto the couch, climbing over me in one fluid motion. "Mina—?"

"Sharon," she corrected, her voice dropping into that sinful register as she straddled my thighs, her soaked cunt pressing against my abs through her ruined panties. "When I'm like this..." Her nails dragged down my chest, popping open the buttons of my shirt. "...you don't get to decide when I come."

I opened my mouth to retort, but she silenced me with another bruising kiss, her hips grinding down in slow, teasing circles. My cock throbbed against her, straining painfully against my pants. "Mmhn~... Someone's eager," she murmured against my lips, her fingers making quick work. Her touch lingered over the prominent bulge, squeezing lightly— testing. "Fuck, I knew you were big, but... this?" The way her breath hitched sent a rush of heat straight to my already aching dick. Mina slid off the couch onto her knees between my legs, her fingers hooking into the waistband of my white pants. She tugged them down agonizingly slow, her lips parting when my grey boxers came into view—stretched obscenely around my girth, the tip leaking a wet spot through the fabric. "Jesus Christ," she breathed, tracing the outline with one fingertip. "How are you even real?"

I hissed when she pressed a kiss right over the tip, her tongue darting out to lick the damp patch. "Mina—fuck—" "Shhh..." She peeled the boxers down, and my cock sprang free, slapping against her chin with an audible thwap. Mina gasped, her eyes widening as she took in the full sight—thick, veiny, and flushed red at the tip, pre-cum beading along the slit. Her fingers wrapped around the base, barely meeting in the middle, and squeezed. Her touch was tentative at first—stroking lightly, exploring the weight of me in her palm—but the longer she touched, the bolder she got. Her tongue darted out to lick a stripe from base to tip, her eyes fluttering shut at the taste. "Mmmf~... Salty," she murmured, lips wrapping around the head in a teasing suck. My hips jerked instinctively, and she laughed—the vibration shooting straight to my balls.

"No, no, no," she chided, pressing me back into the couch with one hand on my hip. "You don't get to fuck my face. Not yet." I groaned, my fists clenching in the couch cushions as she took me deeper, her lips stretching obscenely around my girth. She hummed, her tongue swirling along the underside as she bobbed slowly, her free hand cupping my balls. "F-fuck, Mina—your mouth feels—hnngh—" She pulled off with a pop, her lips glistening. "Mmhn~... Big and vocal," she teased, her thumb rubbing circles over my slit. "How many girls have gotten to taste this?" "None like you," I managed, my voice rough. Her smirk was downright wicked as she leaned back in, this time taking me deeper, her nose brushing my pelvis. "Good answer."

Mina’s plush lips stretched obscenely around the swollen head of my cock, her pink tongue pressing flat against the underside as she swirled it in slow, teasing rotations. A string of saliva connected her bottom lip to my shaft as she pulled back slightly, her dark eyes flickering up to meet mine—mischief swimming in those normally demure depths. “Mmmf~... So thick,” she murmured, the vibrations making my abs clench. Her slender fingers wrapped tighter around the base, squeezing just enough to make me groan. “You’re really all mine?”

I tangled my hand in her silky black hair, guiding her back down. “Every fucking inch.” She moaned—actually moaned—as she took me deeper this time, her throat fluttering around the intrusion. Her nose pressed into my pelvis, her lashes fluttering shut as she adjusted, her free hand gripping my thigh for balance. “F-fuck, Mina—” I hissed, my hips twitching upward instinctively. She gagged slightly but didn’t pull back, her throat clenching around me in a way that nearly made me see stars. When she finally came up for air, her lips were swollen, her chin glistening with spit. “T-teach me,” she panted, her voice wrecked already. “I want… mmh… I want to take it all.”

I groaned, tightening my grip in her hair. “You sure?” She nodded eagerly, her fingers trailing down to cradle my balls. “I’ve practiced,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing. “D-do you think… I just let myself stay inexperienced all this time?” That stunned me. Mina—shy, elegant Mina—had trained herself for this? Before I could process that mental image, she was sinking down again, this time tilting her head to let my cock slide past her tongue and straight into her tight throat. Her gag reflex kicked in immediately, her body jerking, but she forced herself to relax, her throat muscles fluttering around me in a way that made my toes curl.

“Holy shit,” I rasped, watching her tears bead at the corners of her eyes. She pulled off with a wet pop, coughing slightly before grinning up at me—feral and proud. “T-told you,” she gasped, rubbing her throat. “I have… hahh… toys.” I blinked. “Toys.” She licked her lips, her fingers trailing along my length. “Silicone ones. Big ones.” Her eyes darkened. “But none of them… mmf… tasted like you.” That did it. With a moan, I fisted her hair hard and yanked her forward, my cock sliding back into her throat in one brutal thrust. Mina choked, her nails digging into my thighs, but she didn’t fight me—no, her eyes rolled back, her throat convulsing as she let me fuck into it.

“That’s it,” I gritted out, setting a ruthless pace. “Take it. All of it.” Her nose buried into my pelvis with every thrust, her spit dripping down my balls as she struggled to breathe between strokes. The sounds—gagging, wet slurps, choked whimpers—were downright filthy. I could feel my orgasm building, my balls tightening, but I wasn’t done yet. “Look at me,” I ordered, slowing just enough to let her gasp for air. Her teary eyes met mine, her lips bruised, her mascara smudged—ruined. “You like this?” I hissed, thrusting shallowly against her tongue.

She moaned around me, nodding desperately. “Then beg for my cum.” Her fingers dug into my thighs as she pulled off just enough to speak. “P-please,” she whimpered, her voice hoarse. “I—hahh—I want it… down my throat.” I lost control. My hips snapped forward, my cock pumping deep as I came in hot, thick spurts straight into her esophagus. Mina’s throat worked around me, her lips sealed tight as she swallowed every drop, her eyes watering but never looking away. When I finally pulled out, she gasped, spit and cum dripping from her lips as she panted. “F-fuck,” she rasped, licking her lips clean. “Bigger… than my toys…” I dragged her up into a filthy, open-mouthed kiss, tasting myself on her tongue. “And all yours,” I said with a smile.

Mina’s breath was still ragged from swallowing me down, her lips swollen and glossy with spit. But as soon as I pulled her onto the couch beside me, her hands immediately began wandering—sliding up my chest, tweaking a nipple, nails scraping down my abs. I caught her wrist just as her fingers teased the base of my oversensitive cock. “Oh no, princess,” I murmured, flipping us so she was pinned beneath me. “You don’t get to be greedy yet.” She whined, bucking her hips up, but I held her down firmly, my lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. “Y/N—hahh—this isn’t fair—” I groaned against her skin, sucking a bruise into the delicate slope of her breast. “No penetration. Just hands. Mouths. Teasing.” My teeth grazed her nipple, and she shrieked, back arching. “And you’re not coming once tonight…” I switched to her other breast, tonguing the stiff peak until her thighs clamped around my waist. “...you’re coming over and over.”

I started slow—agonizingly slow. Trapping one pert bud between my thumb and forefinger, I rolled it just shy of pain before sealing my lips over it, sucking hard enough to make her squirm. Mina’s fingers tangled in my hair, her hips rolling helplessly against nothing as I lavished attention on her perfect little tits. “Ah! Ngh~... T-the other one—please—” I smirked, flicking the neglected nipple with my tongue. “Beg prettier.” She sobbed, her back bowing off the couch. “S-suck my other nipple!”

Once her chest was a mess of bite marks and glistening spit, I slid down her body, pressing my bare cock against her inner thigh. The moment I started rocking against her, her breath caught—she could feel every thick inch dragging along her sensitive skin. “Hahh~... You—mmf!—you’re rubbing on me—” I whispered my tip catching on the soaked lace still tangled around her thighs. “Feel how hard you make me?” I ground harder, my pre-cum smearing her skin. “Imagine how tight you’d feel around me.” Her cunt pulsed, her slick coating my shaft as I fucked the crease of her thigh. I finally yanked her ruined panties aside (which somehow halfly on again) , my fingers sliding through her dripping folds—but not inside. Instead, I circled her clit in slow, maddening presses, my mouth latching onto her neck. “F-fuck! D-don’t stop—ah!” I didn’t. I edged her mercilessly, backing off every time her thighs started trembling. After the third time denying her, she snapped—her hand flying down to rub frantic circles over her clit. I caught her wrist hard. “Did I say you could touch?” Her eyes welled with frustrated tears. “Please—I’m so close—” I kissed her roughly before murmuring, “Then ask.”

Mina broke. “P-PLEASE LET ME COME!” I rewarded her by pinching her nipple hard while my thumb pressed down on her clit—just once. That was all it took. Her orgasm wrecked her—back arching, thighs clamping around my hand, her cunt pulsing as she sobbed through the waves. I kept my touch feather-light, dragging out every last spasm until she was a trembling, oversensitive mess beneath me. I pulled her into my arms, pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead as she gasped for air. “Hahh~... Evil,” she mumbled, nuzzling into my chest. I chuckled coy. “And this is only preview”

The moment her orgasm faded into oversensitivity, Mina pushed me flat against the couch with surprising strength, her eyes glittering with mischief. "My turn," she purred, straddling my thighs while her nails trailed down my flushed chest. That damn ruined panties long discarded somewhere on the VIP room floor. "Mina—" I started, but she pressed a finger to my lips. "Shhh," she murmured, leaning down to lick a stripe up my neck. "I've watched you ruin me all night." Her teeth scraped my earlobe. "Now it's your turn to beg." Her lips found that spot just below my ear - the one that made my hips jerk uncontrollably. She sucked hard enough to bruise before trailing lower, her tongue swirling around my collarbone while her fingers pinched my nipples to stiff peaks. "F-fuck!" I hissed, my cock twitching against her thigh. "When did you—ah!—learn this?" Mina giggled - that fucking angelic sound contrasting with how her teeth sank into my pectoral. "I told you," she breathed against my skin, "I practiced."

Her hands slid down my torso, nails scraping lightly through the sweat-slicked trails between my abs. When she reached the V-line leading to my hips, she pressed her thumbs into the sensitive dips - hard. "These drove me crazy during last day when your t-shirt clung to," she confessed, licking a hot stripe along the defined muscle. "Every time it snugged you, i just imagined biting it ." She proved her point by sinking her teeth into the tender skin just above my hipbone. My back arched off the couch, cock throbbing painfully. Mina slid lower, kissing down my trembling thighs while deliberately avoiding where I needed her most. Her fingers traced the swollen veins of my cock without touching the head, her breath hot against my balls. "You're dripping," she observed, swiping her thumb through the bead of pre-cum. When she brought it to her lips, sucking it clean with a sinful pop, I nearly came from the sight alone. "F-fucking hell—" She smirked, kissing the inside of my knee. "Too much?" My throaty groan turned into a strangled moan as she suddenly licked a fat stripe from base to tip - then pulled away completely.

Mina's hand finally wrapped around me, stroking just slowly enough to drive me insane. Every time my hips bucked, she'd stop completely, blowing cool air across the wet head. "Mina... please—" "Please what?" She squeezed the base hard, preventing my release. I choked out: "Let me come." Her brown eyes darkened as she leaned close, her untouched lips brushing mine. "Not yet." When her thumb swiped over the frenulum in tight circles, I saw white - but she stopped again, leaving me trembling on the edge. After the fourth edged denial, tears pricked my eyes. Mina took pity - finally sealing her lips around the head while her fingers worked my length. The second I pulsed dangerously, she pulled off with a wet gasp, jerking me brutally until thick ropes of cum striped her chest and throat. "Hahh~... So much," she giggled, swiping a finger through the mess before sucking it clean. I could only groan, utterly wrecked.

The moment my release finished painting Mina’s chest, she collapsed forward against me, her sweat-slicked skin sticking to mine as her breath came in ragged, satisfied puffs against my neck. But even in her post-orgasmic haze, her fingers itched for control—trailing down my sternum, nails scraping lightly through the mess of cum on her own stomach before bringing her glistening fingertips to her lips. “Mmhn~... Salty,” she murmured, licking them clean with a slow drag of her tongue that made my spent cock twitch against her thigh. I chuckled breathlessly, brushing her damp bangs from her forehead. “You’re insatiable.” Mina’s answering grin was all Sharon—wicked and knowing—as she pushed herself up, straddling my hips with deliberate grace. The dim VIP room lights caught every elegant line of her ballerina frame: the delicate slope of her shoulders, the subtle ridges of her ribcage, the way her toned stomach quivered as she moved. “And you,” she purred, leaning down to nip at my jaw, “haven’t worshipped me nearly enough.”

My hands spanned her waist as I sat up, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. “Every inch of you is perfect,” I muttered against her skin, my thumbs brushing the undersides of her small, perfect breasts. Mina’s breath hitched as my lips closed around her left nipple, sucking just hard enough to make her thighs clamp around my hips. Her back arched beautifully, pressing more of herself into my mouth with a broken sigh. “Y-Y/N—hahh—t-that’s—” I pulled back, blowing cool air over the wet peak and watching it stiffen further. “That’s what, baby?”

Her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my mouth back to her chest with a frustrated growl. “Don’t stop.” I obeyed—sucking, licking, biting—until her moans turned high and reedy. My hands slid down the elegant curve of her spine, tracing every dip and ridge of her ballerina-toned back before gripping her ass hard enough to make her yelp. “Fuck,” she panted, grinding down against my stomach. The heat of her soaked cunt scorched my skin even through the remnants of her skirt. “Your mouth—mmf—should be illegal.” I smirked against her breast, flicking the stiff peak with my tongue. “Says the woman riding me like a fucking bench.” Mina huffed, but the way her hips stuttered betrayed her. She was dripping, her arousal coating my abs in sticky streaks. When I squeezed her ass again, she gasped, her nails biting into my shoulders. “S-stop teasing,” she whined, her voice cracking. “Make me.”

Her eyes darkened. With startling strength, Mina shoved me flat against the couch and climbed me like I was hers to conquer. Her hands braced against my chest as she positioned herself above my cock, the swollen head brushing her slick entrance. “Look at me,” she demanded, her voice low and rough. I did. Her usually pristine ponytail was half-undone, dark strands sticking to her flushed cheeks. Her lips were kiss-swollen, her mascara smudged from earlier tears. She looked ruined—and furious about how much she loved it. “Mina—” I was stopped. “Sharon,” she corrected sharply, rolling her hips to smear my pre-cum against her clit. “When I’m like this—when I’m fucking you—you call me Sharon.” I groaned, my hands flying to her waist. “Then fuck me, Sharon.” She smirked—and sank down in one brutal bounce.

“HHHNN—!” Mina’s head tossed back, her spine bowing as she took me balls-deep on the first try. Her walls clenched viscously around me, her thighs trembling from the stretch. “F-fuuck—so big—” I saw stars, my grip on her hips turning bruising. “G-god—you’re fucking tight—” She didn’t wait for me to adjust—didn’t care about the burn. With a snarl, she rocked up, lifting herself until just the tip remained inside before slamming back down. “Ah! AH! Y/N—f-fuck—!” Her rhythm was erratic, desperate, her cunt gripping me like a vice with every bounce. I let her use me—let her chase her pleasure on my cock like she’d been starving for it. Because she had. “Mmngh~... Knew you’d—hahh—f-feel this good,” she panted, her nails raking down my chest. “The last night—ah!—with just my fingers—”

The mental image of Mina—pristine, perfect Mina—fucking herself raw in TWICE's dorm bathroom thinking of me? My hips snapped up to meet her next drop, burying myself to the hilt. Mina screeched, her thighs clamping around me as her walls pulsed. “N-not yet,” she begged, slapping my chest weakly. “W-want more—” I flipped us without warning, pinning her beneath me on the couch.

Mina's back arched off the couch like a bowstring when I bottomed out inside her, her breath catching in a silent scream as her fingers scrambled for purchase against my sweat-slicked shoulders. I felt it—the way her tight little cunt fluttered around me, struggling to adjust to the sheer girth splitting her open. "S-shit—hahh—Y/N, wait—" Her nails dug crescent moons into my skin as she clenched around me, her thighs trembling violently against my hips. "I-I can feel you—fuck—in my stomach—" And god, she wasn't kidding. The way her velvety walls clung to me, the way her cervix kissed the tip of my cock with every shallow grind—fuck, I could see the subtle bulge in her lower abdomen where I stretched her to the limit. I groaned, dropping my forehead against hers as I forced myself to stay still. "Breathe, baby," I muttered, brushing her damp bangs from her eyes. "Just breathe through it."... Mina whined, her hips twitching involuntarily—whether to pull away or pull me deeper, even she didn't seem to know. Then—"...Move," she gasped, her voice wrecked. I hesitated. "You sure?" Her legs locked around my waist like a vice, her eyes burning into mine. "I said," she gritted out, "move."

I pulled out slowly, watching with rapt fascination as her swollen pussy clung to me, trying desperately to keep me inside. The second only the tip remained, I slammed back in—hard. Mina shrieked, her back bowing off the couch as her fingers flew to her mouth, biting down on her own knuckles to muffle the noise."F-fuck—fuck—!" she sobbed around her fingers, her walls convulsing around me. "I-It's—ah!—t-too much—!" I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Not when her cunt was dripping around me, not when her thighs were shaking with every brutal thrust, not when her tits bounced with every snap of my hips—small, perfect, glistening with sweat. "You take me so fucking good," I rumbled, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise as I pounded into her. "Look at you—fuck—made for this cock." Mina's eyes rolled back, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her orgasm crested—Then crashed over her like a fucking tsunami.

"Y-Y/N—I-I'M—!" Her warning came half a second before her cunt clamped down on me like a vice, her thighs jerking wildly as her hips stuttered against mine. Then— Splash. A hot gush of liquid soaked my pelvis, the couch cushions, everything as Mina squirted for the first time in her life—her scream piercing the air as her body locked up in mind-shattering ecstasy. "HHHNNNGGH—!" Her back arched impossibly high, her fingers clawing at my arms as wave after wave of her release drenched us both. And god, the feel of it—her convulsing walls milking me, the heat of her soaking my thighs, the way her eyes glazed over with sheer, unfiltered pleasure— Fuck. I was gone.

My hips stuttered erratically as my climax tore through me—deeper, harder than anything I'd ever felt. Thick ropes of cum pumped into her trembling cunt, filling her to the brim until it overflowed, spilling hot and sticky between our joined bodies. Mina whimpered weakly when she felt it, her oversensitive walls fluttering around my still-pulsing cock. "Nngh~... S-so full..." I collapsed atop her, my spent body shaking as I struggled to catch my breath. Beneath me, Mina was a mess—hair plastered to her face, mascara smeared, her ruined pussy still clenching weakly around me as if trying to keep every last drop inside.

"Holy shit," I rasped, pressing a sloppy kiss to her parted lips. Mina giggled—actually fucking giggled—her voice hoarse and ruined. "T-told you..." she mumbled, nuzzling into my neck. "N-none of my toys... mmf... f-felt like that." It took us a solid ten minutes to untangle ourselves—partly because neither of us could move, partly because Mina whined every time I tried to pull out, her thighs locking around me like a boa constrictor. When I finally managed to lift myself off her, the sight that greeted me was downright obscene: Her pussy was swollen, her inner thighs glistening with a mix of cum and her own slick. Her lower stomach was slightly rounded—still stretched from how deep I'd been. Her nipples were bruised from my mouth, her collarbone littered with love bites. And the smug little smile on her face? Priceless.

The moment Mina's delicate fingers pressed against her swollen lower lips, parting herself just enough for me to see— "Look," she murmured, voice still wrecked from screaming, "how much you filled me." A thick ribbon of my cum dripped obscenely from her twitching entrance, pooling on the ruined VIP couch beneath us. My throat closed at the sight—at the sound—of her finger scooping up a generous amount, bringing it to those pristine, idol-perfect lips. "Mmf~..." She sucked her finger clean with a slow drag of her tongue, her dark eyes locking onto mine. "Salty... warm..." Fuck. I was blushing—actually fucking blushing—like some virgin teenager watching his first porn. This was Mina. Myoui Mina. TWICE's elegant ice princess, the ballet-trained visual who made fans swoon with just a tilt of her head. And here she was, slurping my cum off her fingers like it was fucking dessert.

"Y-you—" I rasped, my spent cock twitching against my thigh. "—are insane." Mina just giggled, stretching languidly beneath me like a satisfied cat, her legs still spread wide, her glistening cunt on full display. "Mmmhn~... You like it," she purred, her toes brushing up my calf. "Seeing your Mina be a slut just for you~..." Her hip rolled, another gush of cum seeping out with the movement—a filthy, audible squelch that made my gut clench. "Yeah?" I managed, dragging my thumb through the mess on her inner thigh. "Then why's your face redder than a fucking tomato?" That wiped the smirk right off her face. Her hands flew to her cheeks, her eyes widening in horror. "I-I am not—!" "Uh-huh," I chuckled, leaning down to lick a stripe up her trembling stomach, savoring the mix of salt and her. "Keep telling yourself that, Sharon." Mina squeaked, her back arching when my tongue dipped into her navel. "Y-Y/N—ah!—s-stop teasing—!" I grinned "Make me."

Mina huffed, pushing at my shoulders until I reluctantly let her sit up. Her movements were shaky, her thighs sticky with sweat and cum, but that didn't stop her from leaning over the edge of the couch—ass up—to rummage through her discarded purse. Even ruined, even messy—her ass was art. Petite but perfectly rounded, the kind that looked innocent in cute shorts but sinful naked, with just enough jiggle to make my mouth water. And those dimples at the base of her spine? Fuck me. "Ah! Found it~" Mina's triumphant murmur snapped me out of my haze. She turned back to me, holding up a small bottle of clear lube with a devilish grin. "Stole it from Chaeyoung's bag last day." I blinked. "...Why?" Her grin turned sheepish. "...I may have... planned this." Oh..Oh..... My cock throbbed.

Mina crawled into my lap with purpose, her damp skin sliding against mine as she pressed the bottle into my palm. "I trust you," she whispered, her teeth nibbling my earlobe. "But go slow... It's my... first time." Fuck. My grip on the lube tightened. "Mina," I muttered, cupping her cheek. "We don't have to—"

"I want to," she interrupted, her voice firm. Then, softer: "...With you." That did it. I kissed her—deep—before nudging her onto her stomach, my palm rubbing soothing circles over the curve of her ass. "Breathe," I reminded her, popping the cap on the lube. "And relax." The second the first slick finger circled her tight rim, Mina whimpered, her face burying into the couch cushions. "Hahh~... C-cold..." "Shhh," I soothed, pressing a kiss to the small of her back as I eased the tip inside. "That's it... good girl..." Mina's breath hitched, her toes curling when I slid in to the first knuckle. "O-oh—fuck—"

I worked her agonizingly slow—one finger, then two, crooking them just enough to make her jolt. "Ngh! W-wait—ah!—right there—!" Her back arched, her hips pushing back against my hand as her walls fluttered around my fingers. "Y-Y/N—I—mmf!" "I know," I groaned, watching her ass clench around my thrusting fingers. "Fuck, look at you... taking me so well..." Mina whined, her hand flying between her legs—rubbing her soaked clit in frantic circles as I stretched her. "Hahh~... M-more—please—!" I added a third finger. Her scream was priceless.

Mina's back arched like a strung bow when my third finger sank knuckle-deep into her tight heat, her breath hitching in a way that made my cock throb against her thigh. "Ngh~... Y-Y/N—" Her fingers clawed at the couch cushions, her ass pushing back against my hand like she couldn't decide whether to flee or beg for more. I shushed her gently, my free hand rubbing soothing circles over the dimples at the base of her spine. "Relax, baby," I murmured, pressing a kiss to the curve of her hip. "Just breathe for me." Mina whined, her thighs trembling as I scissored my fingers slowly, the lube-slick squelches obscenely loud in the quiet VIP room. "F-fuck—it's—ah!—so much—"

"But you're taking it so well," I praised, curling my fingers just so— "HHH—!" Her entire body jolted, her cunt gushing against my wrist as her rim fluttered around my digits. "Y-YOU—MMF!—CHEATER—!" I chuckled, nuzzling the sweat-damp skin of her lower back. "Just prepping you, princess." Mina twisted beneath me, her dark eyes blazing with something between outrage and lust as she glared over her shoulder.

"You—hahh—bastard," she panted, her cheeks flushed. "I felt that—mmf—everywhere." I grinned, giving her ass a light smack that made her yelp. "Good." Her answering growl was downright feral as she shoved me onto my back, climbing over me with predatory grace. "My turn," she purred, her fingers trailing down my chest before wrapping around my aching cock. "Look at you... throbbing just from fingering me..." Her grip was perfect—tight enough to sting, her thumb swiping over the leaking tip with maddening precision.

"M-Mina—" "Sharon," she corrected sharply, her hips grinding against my thigh as she stroked me. "Say it." I groaned, my hands flying to her waist. "Sharon—fuck—" She leaned down, her lips brushing my ear. "You really think you're ready for this ass?" Her teeth nipped my lobe. "For my tight little virgin hole?" My hips bucked uncontrollably, my cock pulsing in her fist. Mina laughed—that bright, idol-perfect laugh that made ONCEs swoon—before shoving me back down. "Didn't think so," she teased, reaching for the lube again.

The second my cockhead brushed her puckered rim, Mina froze, her breath coming in shallow pants. "Hahh~... O-okay," she whispered, her fingers digging into my thighs. "Now." I groaned, my grip on her hips tightening as I pushed in—slow—watching with rapt fascination as her body stretched to accommodate me. "F-fuck—fuck—" Mina tossed her head back, her nails scoring my skin as her rim clenched viscously around the intrusion. "S-so big—ah!—hnngh~..."

God damn. The heat—the pressure—it was suffocating, her walls fluttering around me like a live thing. "Mina—fuck—breathe," I gritted out, my knuckles white from restraint. She nodded frantically, her chest heaving as she forced herself to relax—inch by agonizing inch—until I was sheathed to the hilt. "Hahh~... O-oh my god," she whimpered, her thighs quaking. "I-I can feel you—mmf!—everywhere—" I groaned, my forehead dropping against her shoulder. "You—fuck—you feel unreal."

Mina rolled her hips experimentally, her gasp punching from her lungs when my cock dragged against her walls. "AH! Y-Y/N—wait—!" I stilled immediately, my hands rubbing soothing circles over her trembling back. "Too much?" She shook her head, her fingers tangling in my hair as she panted against my neck. "N-no... J-just... different..." Different. Fuck. I kissed her—deep—before gripping her hips firmly. "Tell me," I murmured against her lips. "Tell me when you're ready." Mina nodded, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusted—her inner muscles clenching and unclenching around me in a way that made my vision white out. Then—"Move," she whispered. I obeyed.

Mina yelped when I flipped her onto her hands and knees, her ass high in the air as I mounted her from behind. "Hahh~... S-so deep—!" Her voice broke as I pounded into her with slow, purposeful thrusts, the squelch of lube and skin echoing in the quiet room. God. The view—her slender slim frame bowed beneath me, her spine curving elegantly as her ass rippled with every impact—it was obscene.

My Mina... taking my cock like a good girl..." Mina moaned, her fingers clawing at the couch as her head tossed back. "Y-Y/N—ah!—harder—!" I snarled, my hips snapping forward with brutal force—"HHHNNGH—!" Her scream was piercing, her walls clenching vice-like around me as her body convulsed in pleasure.

The sharp slap of flesh against flesh reverberated through the VIP room as I snapped my hips forward, burying every thick inch of myself into Mina’s clenching heat. Her answering cry was muffled into the couch cushions, her fingers twisting desperately into the fabric as her back arched—every muscle in her petite frame taut like a bowstring. "F-fuck! Y-Y/N—AH!—t-too deep—!"

I said, my grip on her hips ironclad. "You begged for this," I reminded her, pulling out agonizingly slow before slamming back in, the wet squelch of lube and tight muscle obscenely loud. "You wanted me to ruin this tight little ass, didn’t you, Sharon?" Mina’s choked sob twisted into something filthy, her walls pulsing around me as she ground back against my relentless thrusts. "Y-yes—ngh!—god, yes—!"

Her voice shattered when my palm cracked down on her right ass cheek, the sharp smack sending ripples through her perfect skin. Her body jolted, her cunt gushing against my thigh where she was pressed into the couch. "MORE!" she screamed, her nails tearing at the leather beneath her. Who knew Myoui Mina—TWICE’s poised, elegant visual—could be this much of a whore when wrecked on cock?

Just as Mina’s thighs started to quake, her breaths coming in shattered gasps, I stopped—my cock twitching inside her but not moving an inch. "W-what—Y/N!" she screeched, her head whipping back to glare at me with murder in her eyes. I smirked, dragging my thumb down the sweat-slick dip of her spine. "Too easy," I murmured, leaning down to bite the curve of her shoulder. "You don’t get to come yet."

Mina whined, her hips jerking back uselessly—but before she could protest further, my finger was pressing against her dripping cunt, circling her swollen clit with just enough pressure to make her sob. "Ah! AH! N-no—!" Her back arched, her toes curling against the couch as pleasure racked her body—but I denied her again, pulling my hand away the second her thighs started to shake. "BASTARD!" she howled, her voice raw with frustration. I chuckled darkly, my cock throbbing inside her as I watched her squirm. "Patience, princess."

Then—without warning—I sank two fingers knuckle-deep into her sopping cunt, curling them just right against that spongy spot inside her. Mina screeched, her entire body locking up as her ass clamped down on my cock like a vice. "AGGHHH—!!" "Fuck," I groaned, my vision blurring at the edges from the pressure—the heat—of being sandwiched between her dual walls. "You’re strangling me, baby."

Mina couldn’t answer—too busy gasping like a drowning woman, her face flushed, her lips parted in a silent scream. So I moved. Slowly at first—dragging my fingers in and out of her cunt in time with the shallow rolls of my hips—letting her feel every inch of me in both holes. Then—harder. Fast—pistoning into her ass while my fingers hammered her G-spot with ruthless precision. Mina broke. "AH! AH! F-FUCK! I—HNNGH!—I CAN’T—!" Her thighs trembled, her cunt gushing around my fingers as her ass milked my cock with desperate pulses. But I wasn’t done. "Look at you," I rasped, my voice rough with strain as I chased my own pleasure inside her. "My Mina—fucking impaled on me—both ways—"

Mina whimpered, her nails scoring the couch as her entire body convulsed—her orgasm ripping through her with brutal force. But I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Not when her walls were fluttering around me like a dying thing, not when her screams had turned hoarse and broken, not when her cunt was dripping down my wrist—"Y-Y/N! P-PLEASE—I CAN’T—MMF!—TOO MUCH—!" I gritted my teeth, my thrusts turning erratic as my own climax crested— The moment Mina's body locked up beneath me, her muscles seizing like a live wire, I knew she was done for.

Her back arched violently, her shoulder blades jutting sharply as her cunt flooded around my fingers—hot, relentless pulses of fluid soaking my hand, the couch, everything. "HHHNNNGGH—!!" Her scream pierced my eardrums, raw and shattered, her fingers clawing at the leather cushions like she was trying to escape the pleasure wracking her body. But I didn't let her.

My fingers curled, pressing ruthlessly against her G-spot as my cock pounded into her ass with brutal, animalistic thrusts—each snap of my hips forcing another gush from her overstimulated cunt. "AGH! AH! N-NO—!" Mina screeched, her voice breaking as her thighs trembled uncontrollably. "T-TOO MUCH—PLEASE—!" But fuck—I was gone. The way her ass clenched around me—desperate, rippling—like it was milking me for everything I had— "F-FUCK!" My vision whited out as my fingers dug deeper, my cock bottoming out inside her with a wet slap—And then— SPLASH. Mina squirted again—harder this time—a torrent of liquid gushing out in three violent spurts, drenching my thighs, the couch, everything within reach.

Her body jolted like she'd been electrocuted, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her back arched off the couch completely—her ass clamping down vice-like around my cock as her orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave. "HHHNNNGGH—!!!" She was convulsing—actually convulsing—her toes curling, her nails scoring the leather beneath her, her eyes rolling back as her body shook like a leaf in the wind.

And I—I lost it. My hips stuttered, my cock pulsing deep inside her as my own climax slammed into me with blinding force—But before I could spill—Mina collapsed forward, her body going limp against the couch as her breaths came in shaky, broken gasps. Fuck. She was wrecked. "Mina?" I rasped, my voice hoarse from strain. No answer—just the weak twitch of her fingers against the ruined leather.

I pulled out slowly, my cock dripping with a mix of lube and her as Mina whimpered at the loss. Her ass gaped slightly—red, used, stretched—her rim fluttering weakly as if begging for me to fill her again. Her cunt wasn’t better—puffy, swollen, soaking—her thighs shiny with a mix of squirt and cum. I swallowed hard, my throat dry as I dragged my fingers through the mess, collecting a glob of her release before bringing it to my lips. Salty. Sweet. Addicting.

Mina stirred weakly, her dark eyes fluttering open as she watched me suck my fingers clean. "P-pervert," she whispered, her voice raw from screaming. I grinned, leaning down to kiss her trembling lips. "Your pervert." She huffed—but the way her fingers twisted into my hair said otherwise.

Mina's fingers trailed lazily through the mess on her stomach, her chest still rising and falling in uneven bursts as she tried to catch her breath. The VIP room smelled like sex and sweat, the leather couch beneath us ruined beyond repair—not that either of us cared. "Fuck," she muttered, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I think you broke me." I chuckled, pressing a kiss to her damp shoulder. "You asked for it."

She turned her head just enough to glare at me, her dark eyes still glazed with pleasure. "I asked for you to fuck me, not rearrange my insides." I couldn't help but laugh, my fingers tracing idle patterns over her hip. "Same difference." Mina huffed, but there was no real annoyance behind it—just exhaustion and something dangerously close to affection. Her fingers, still sticky, poked at my chest.

"You're lucky I like you," she murmured, her smirk lazy but eyes softer now. "Or I'd have to report you to JYP for sexual harassment." She punctuated the threat by dragging her nail down my sternum, leaving a faint pink trail against my sweat-damp skin. I caught her wrist, pressing her palm flat against my chest where she could feel my heartbeat—still rabbiting from the aftershocks. "You'd miss me too much," I countered, grinning when she tried (and failed) to suppress a shiver as my thumb circled her pulse point.

"Tch. Arrogant," she muttered, but the way her legs tangled with mine betrayed her. One of her feet slid up my calf, her toes curling against my skin like a cat kneading for comfort. "...Maybe a little."

Her free hand traced the bite marks she’d left on my shoulder earlier, her touch feather-light. "Next time," she began, her voice dropping to that throaty register that never failed to make my stomach clench, "I'm riding your face until you choke on me. Payback for… all this." She gestured vaguely at the wreckage of the couch, her own ruined thighs, the lube bottle still rolling near the edge.

Mina snorted, but her fingers tightened in my hair, holding me in I barked out a laugh, pulling her closer until her nose bumped my collarbone. "Promises, promises, Sharon." place as she tilted her head up. Her kiss was slow—sticky with leftover strawberry gloss and something saltier—and when she pulled back, her smirk was pure sin. "Just wait."

Mina’s fingers trailed down my chest, her nails scraping lightly over my abs before wrapping around my half-hard cock with a knowing squeeze. "Y/N," she purred, her voice still wrecked from screaming, "I need you to fuck me again."

I groaned, my hips jerking into her grip instinctively. "Christ, Mina—give me a second to recover." She tsked, her thumb swiping over the head of my cock, smearing the pre-cum beading there. "Tzuyu’s new producer boy friend fucks her like this all the time," she murmured, leaning down to lick a stripe up my shaft. "Prone bone. Deep. Says it hits everything inside her."

My fingers twisted in her hair, tugging just enough to make her moan around me. "You’re jealous?" Mina giggled, the vibration thrumming through my cock as she took me deeper, her tongue flattening against the vein underneath. "Mmmhn~... Maybe," she admitted, pulling off with a filthy pop. "But mostly I just want to feel you ruin me like that." Her lips wrapped around me again, sucking with lethal precision, her free hand cupping my balls and rolling them gently. "Fuck—Mina—" She pulled off, her lips glossy with spit, her eyes dark. "I want your cum in my ass this time," she whispered, her fingers pumping me slowly. "All of it. Dripping out of me when we’re done." fuck. I was hard again in seconds.

Mina ushered me up from the couch with a push, her hands roaming over my chest as she backed toward the cushions. "On my stomach, right?" she murmured, her voice laced with something giddy. I nodded, my cock throbbing as she turned, presenting herself to me—ass still slightly reddened from my earlier pounding, her back a smooth, unbroken line of pale skin.

"Fuck," I breathed, my hands gripping her hips. "You’re beautiful." Mina glanced over her shoulder, her smirk wicked. "I know," she teased, arching her back just enough to make her cheeks part slightly. "Now ruin me." I groaned, my cock leaking as I positioned myself behind her, the tip pressing against her flushed rim. "Relax," I murmured, my thumb rubbing circles into her hip.

Mina huffed, her fingers clenching in the couch cushions. "Just fuck me alrea—AH!" Her shriek pierced the air as I sank into her tight heat, her walls clenching viciously around me. "HOLY—!" Her back arched, her nails scoring the leather beneath her. "F-FUCK! DEEPER—!" I obeyed, my hips slamming forward until I was buried to the hilt, my groin pressed flush against her ass. "Fuck," I growled, my vision blurring at the pressure. "You’re still so tight—" Mina whined, her thighs trembling as she pushed back against me. "MOVE—PLEASE—!"

I pulled out slowly, watching with rapt fascination as her rim clung to me, stretched and shiny with lube. Then—slammed back in. Mina screeched, her body jolting forward with the force of it, her face burying into the couch. "AH! AH! Y-Y/N—FUCK—!" Prone bone was different—deeper—the angle letting me pound into her with brutal precision, each thrust grinding my cock against every nerve inside her. "T-TOO MUCH—!" Mina sobbed, her fingers clawing at the cushions. "I-I FEEL YOU—EVERYWHERE—!"

I groaned, my hands digging into her hips as I chased my own pleasure, my thrusts turning erratic. "Fuck—Mina—you’re squeezing me so good—" Her ass clenched around me, her walls fluttering desperately as her orgasm crept up on her. "I-I’M—HNNGH!—"

I leaned over her, my chest pressing into her back as I pounded into her harder, my lips brushing her ear. "Come for me, princess," I growled. "Let me feel it." Mina screamed, her body locking up as her orgasm ripped through her—her cunt gushing beneath her, her ass milking me viciously. "F-FUCK!" I snarled, my hips stuttering as my own climax crept up on me— The violent slap of skin on skin echoed through the VIP room as I pounded into Mina’s ass with reckless abandon, the force of my thrusts making the entire leather couch bounce and creak beneath us. Every snap of my hips drove my cock deeper into her tight heat, the angle of prone bone letting me reach places inside her that had her screeching within seconds.

"G-GOD—!" Mina wailed, her face buried into the couch cushions as her fingers clawed desperately at the leather. "F-FUCK—Y/N—IT’S—AH!—TOO DEEP—!" Her ass clenched around me like a vice, her slick walls fluttering wildly as I bottomed out inside her with each brutal thrust. "You asked for this," I growled, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips hard enough to bruise. "You wanted me to ruin you like this, didn’t you, princess?" Mina nodded furiously, her voice breaking into a sob as I angled my hips just right—

"HHHNNGH—!!" Her back arched violently, her toes curling against the couch as a second orgasm ripped through her—her cunt gushing beneath her, her ass milking my cock with desperate pulses. "Y-YES! FUCK! JUST LIKE THAT!" she screamed, her thighs trembling wildly. "D-DON’T STOP—PLEASE—!" I groaned, my vision whiting out at the feeling of her walls crushing me as I chased my own release, my thrusts turning frantic.

Mina twisted beneath me, her nails scoring down my forearms as she glared over her shoulder, her dark eyes glazed with pleasure and challenge. "Harder," she demanded, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I know you can fuck me better than Tzuyu’s producer."

My hips snapped forward with brutal force, making her yelp as her body jolted forward. "That what you want?" I growled, my fingers gripping her hair and yanking her head back. "You want me to own this ass more than anyone ever has?" Mina moaned, her lips parting in a broken gasp. "YES—FUCK—YES!"

Her words were fuel—pure, unfiltered lust—and I used them, pounding into her with renewed ferocity, the couch squeaking obscenely beneath us. "TELL ME," I snarled, my cock throbbing as her walls clenched vice-like around me. "Tell me whose ass this is." Mina whimpered, her entire body quaking as I drilled into her relentlessly. "YOURS—AH!—IT’S YOURS—!" "Damn right," I growled, my thrusts turning erratic as my release crept up on me.

I buried myself deep inside her with one final thrust, my front pressed flush against her back as my cock pulsed violently, filling her ass with thick, heavy ropes of cum. "F-FUCK!" Mina screeched, her body locking up as her walls fluttered wildly around me. "I-I FEEL IT—AH!—SO HOT—!" I groaned, my hips jerking spasmodically as I spilled everything inside her, my fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave marks.

When I finally pulled out—slowly, agonizingly—Mina whimpered, her rim gaping slightly, a thick stream of my cum dripping obscenely from her used hole. "Look at that," I murmured, dragging my finger through the mess before pushing it back inside her, making her jolt. "My cum deep in your ass." Mina shivered, her eyes fluttering shut as she collapsed onto the couch, completely wrecked. "Worth it," she breathed, her smirk sluggish but smug.

Mina shivered as she slowly pushed herself up on trembling arms, her back still glistening with sweat. With a slow, deliberate motion, she turned her head to glance over her shoulder—and then, with a devilish smirk, she spread her ass cheeks apart with both hands.

"Oops~," she giggled, her voice still breathy and wrecked, but laced with that angelic lilt that made my spent cock twitch against my thigh. "Someone really filled me up, didn’t they?"

Fuck.

A thick stream of cum spilled out of her, dripping down her inner thighs in glossy rivulets, the sheer volume of it making my stomach tighten with possessive pride.

"Look at that," I murmured, reaching out to drag my fingers through the mess, collecting a glob of my own release before smearing it back over her reddened rim. "You’re dripping."

Mina moaned, her hips twitching as my fingers pressed just inside her, teasing her loosened hole. "Mmmh~... Someone got carried away," she teased, her dark eyes glittering with mischief.

I chuckled, leaning down to kiss the base of her spine, my tongue lapping up a stray drop of cum. "You begged for it."

She huffed, but the way her thighs squeezed together betrayed her. "I did," she admitted, her voice dropping to a filthy whisper. "And I’d do it again."

Mina shifted, rolling onto her side with a soft whine, her legs still trembling slightly. "Y/N~," she pouted, her fingers tracing idle patterns over her own stomach. "You made a mess."

I grinned, crawling over her and pinning her beneath me, my cock—already stirring again—pressing against her thigh. "You loved it."

She giggled, her nails scraping lightly down my chest. "Maybe~," she admitted, before her expression turned wicked. "But now you have to clean me up."

Fuck.

I didn’t hesitate.

My tongue dragged up the inside of her thigh, collecting every drop of cum that had dripped down her skin, the salt and bitterness of my own release mingling with the sweetness of her sweat.

Mina gasped, her back arching as my lips closed around her clit, sucking gently. "AH! Y-Y/N—not fair—!"

I pulled back just enough to grin up at her. "You said clean you up."

She groaned, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me back down. "Cheater."

By the time I was done, Mina was panting again, her thighs clamped around my head as she trembled through another small climax.

"F-fuck," she breathed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "You’re insatiable."

I licked my lips, crawling back up her body to kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on my tongue. "And you," I murmured against her lips, "are perfect."

Mina smiled, her fingers tracing my jaw. "Next time," she whispered, her voice dark with promise, "I’m riding your face until you choke."

Fuck.

I groaned, my cock throbbing against her hip. "Deal."

Mina’s fingers tapped lazily against her phone screen, the click of the camera shutter echoing in the quiet of the VIP room as she lifted her arm to snap a shameless selfie—both of us still gloriously naked, sprawled across the ruined couch, my cum dripping obscenely down her inner thigh as she smirked at the lens.

"Smile, oppa~," she teased, her free hand patting my cheek before zooming in just enough to capture the mess between her legs.

I blinked, still catching my breath, my eyebrows furrowing in adorable confusion. "Uh. Why?"

Mina giggled, her thumb hovering over the send button—Chaeyoung’s contact already pulled up. "Because," she chirped, her voice sing-song, "our little Chaengie has been bragging nonstop about her crush lately—mocking me for being single." She pouted, but her eyes glittered with pure mischief. "Now she’ll see who actually has the better man~."

My jaw dropped. "You’re not seriously—"

Sent.

The whoosh of the message flying into cyberspace was deafening.

"Oops?" Mina bat her lashes, tossing her phone aside before snuggling into my chest with a satisfied sigh. "Too late~."

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face—but I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me when her phone buzzed seconds later with Chaeyoung’s all-caps response:

"WHAT THE FUCK MY EYES??????"

Mina just cackled, pressing a kiss to my collarbone. "Worth it."

Soft silence blanketed the room. The hum of computers and muffled gaming downstairs felt like background noise in a world that now only existed between Mina and me.

The air was still heavy with heat. Clothes had long been forgotten in a whirlwind of kisses and tangled limbs. The once pristine couch now felt like a soft cradle to something unexpected, something beautifully intense.

I sat at the edge now, slowly pulling my shirt back on, but my eyes wandered back to her.

Mina lay under a thin blanket (from where, i dont know), her long black hair tousled and falling over her shoulder, cheeks flushed, lips still swollen from our kisses. She was watching me with that sleepy, satisfied gaze, like a cat basking in warmth.

"You should come with a warning label, you know," she murmured, voice husky but playful.

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? What would it say?"

She stretched slowly, wincing slightly before laughing. "Caution: dangerously well-endowed. May cause sore thighs and addictive kissing tendencies."

I blinked. Then I laughed, nearly choking on my own breath. "Mina!"

She gave me a lazy grin, her eyes full of mischief. "Hey, I’m just stating facts. My whole body aches, but in a good way. A very good way."

I stood up, walking over to her side with a faint shake of my head. "You're unbelievable."

"So are you." She gently reached for my hand. "But unless you want to explain to the staff why we’re both half-naked up here, I think we should get dressed."

I gave a breathy chuckle. "Fair point."

Reaching for her clothes first, I began the quiet task of helping her dress again. It wasn’t awkward—it felt intimate, like I was tending to something fragile, something sacred.

I picked up her undergarments first, glancing her way.

"Mind if I…?" I asked softly.

Mina gave a faint nod, her cheeks a soft shade of pink now.

I crouched slightly, helping her into the lacy set she had folded earlier in her bag. My hands were gentle, reverent, careful not to linger too long out of respect—even if part of me ached to. Mina watched me with calm eyes, the corner of her lips twitching.

"You’re so focused," she teased quietly. "Is this how you are with everything?"

I chuckled. "Only when it’s someone important."

A flush rose on her cheeks again as she leaned back to let me zip up her skirt, then helped guide her arms through the sleeves of her fitted navy top.

Once she was dressed, she rose to her feet, smoothing out the wrinkles on her skirt and glancing in the mirror.

"I don’t think I can walk in a straight line just yet," she muttered under her breath.

I laughed quietly, grabbing my jacket as I pulled on my pants. "You’re really not going to let me live this down, huh?"

Mina walked toward me, adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag. "Absolutely not. I plan to remind you regularly. And maybe…" she leaned in, whispering near my ear, "make sure there’s a next time too."

I swallowed hard, fighting a grin. "You’re dangerous."

She kissed the side of my jaw. "You like dangerous."

I shook my head, helping her adjust her sunglasses before brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're my kind of dangerous."

And just like that, we were once again clothed, composed—but the air around us felt different. Charged. Changed.

We weren’t just two people in a hidden lounge anymore. We were something else now.

Still tangled on the couch, Mina leaned into my chest, her fingers drawing slow, lazy circles across my shirt as her breath evened out. My jacket had been tossed over us like some weak excuse for a blanket, and her white platform shoes lay forgotten near the PC tower.

Just when I thought the mood was winding down into a peaceful lull…

Ping.

My phone buzzed somewhere nearby. I instinctively reached over to check it—only to freeze when I saw the screen.

[Chaeyoung 🐯: “WHAT THE HELL #2 ???”]

Attached? Another photo. A selfie. Of us. Just taken.

Bare shoulders. Tangled hair. Mina's smirk. Me looking absolutely dazed and ruined, cheek resting against hers. There was a visible blanket covering some of us, but not enough.

"Mina!" I practically yelped, eyes wide, holding the phone up. "Why the hell did you send this to Chaeyoung?! Are you trying to give her a heart attack?!"

Mina just giggled softly against me, looking way too proud of herself.

"Relax, Oppa," she said smoothly, pulling my arm back around her waist. "It’s just a tease. She’s the least likely to spill something serious—and besides..." she tilted her head, brushing her lips against my cheek, "I wanted someone to know I had a very good night."

"You call that 'a good night'?" I groaned, flopping back dramatically. "She’s going to blackmail me for this until I’m in a grave. You know she will. I’m going to be called ‘chaotic couple content’ in TWICE’s group chat for the rest of my life."

Mina laughed again, that beautiful, breathy laugh that made all my irritation melt like butter on a summer day.

"Then you better live a long life, babe. We’ve got more chaos coming."

I groaned into my palms. "You’re evil."

"And yet…" she gently lifted my hand, kissing my knuckles with a smirk, "you still adore me."

She wasn’t wrong.

There was a beat of silence where I let myself just look at her—long straight hair, lips swollen from our kisses, her eyes shining with that strange mix of peace, danger, and fondness. And in that moment, tangled with her and half dressed, the world didn’t feel so overwhelming.

Mina tilted her head after a few seconds, breaking the silence.

"So, wanna go to your café?"

I blinked. "Right now?"

She nodded, her hand slipping into mine. "Mm-hmm. I want coffee. I want something sweet. I want…" she hesitated, then leaned closer, whispering, "to sit next to you in a place that’s all yours. Ours."

I didn’t even have to think. "I’ll close it down for us. Private reservation. You, me, and an entire café’s worth of desserts."

Her smile grew, and it wasn’t flirty this time—it was soft. Pure. Like she had something fragile in her chest and only I was allowed to see it.

And then she dropped the final bomb with casual ease, brushing her hair back and standing up, fixing her skirt like nothing life-altering just happened.

"Let’s go, boyfriend."

I sat there dumbfounded.

Did she just—?

Did she just label me?

“Boyfriend?” I muttered under my breath, heart rate skyrocketing.

She turned back with a wink. "Don’t make me say it twice."

I scrambled up, jacket in hand, trying to hide the stupid grin tugging at my lips.

Mina Myoui had just called me her boyfriend.

God help me, I’d follow her out that door and into the apocalypse.

(A/N: She is too pretty. I can't help it)

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔖𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔞'𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔟𝔬𝔶 Mike Schmidt x male reader

A request that I received from a friend. Mike Schmidt works as Santa at a mall (not the one he punched a guy), with the reader getting flustered around him in the costume. This then culminates into Mike noticing and putting reader on his lap and asking if he's been a good boy this year with the obvious smut ensuing.

Tags: Part 11 of this series of Mike Schmidt x male reader but can be read as a standalone with no problems. No use of Y/N. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Mike is annoyed by everything. Lots of teasing.Reader being called a good boy. Smut. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Anal sex. Riding.

Words count: 2500 words

ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

The mall was alive with a symphony of holiday cheer, its corridors decked with vibrant garlands and oversized ornaments. Strings of twinkling lights hung above, casting a warm glow over the bustling crowd. The unmistakable melody of Christmas songs played softly over the sound system, blending with the excited chatter of children and the hum of shoppers. The centerpiece of it all was the large Santa setup. A throne flanked by candy cane columns and a towering Christmas tree.

You weren't particularly thrilled to be here, especially during the chaos of the season with little demons running and screaming everywhere (Mike did such a good job at educating Abby), but when Mike had mentioned he'd be filling in as Santa, curiosity won out over your reluctance. You had to see this for yourself.

And there he was.

Your grumpy yet irresistibly charming man, now dressed in a plush red Santa suit that seemed both too big and oddly fitting, complete with a fake white beard that looked like it had been yanked out of the clearance bin at the last minute. The white trim of his jacket framed his face, his scruffy jaw and tired eyes unmistakable even under the fluffy Santa hat.

He looked so out of place, shifting awkwardly as kids climbed into his lap, their excited squeals contrasting with his forced chuckled. His discomfort was evident, lips twitching in what was probably meant to be a jolly smile but looked more like a grimace.

You couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. He was trying so hard that it was both hilarious and endearing. As the line dwindled, you hung back, blending into the crowd while sneaking glances. But your restraint faltered when a particularly loud kid tugged at his fake beard and you saw Mike wince, a look of barely contained annoyance flashing across his face.

He looked up to see the line in from of him to calculate how much longer this torture will last and it was there that he spotted you.

For a moment, he froze, then a slow smirk curved his lips. You felt a warmth rise in your chest and your gaze darted away, feigning interest in a nearby display of ornaments. He waved the last child off with a hearty laugh that sounded suspiciously forced.

The line had finally cleared and with no more gremlins in sight, Mike stretched, the red jacket riding up slightly to reveal a hint of his toned abdomen beneath. He stood, shaking off the stiffness from hours of sitting, and caught your eye again. With a barely perceptible tilt of his head, he signaled toward the employee's room in the back of the big mall. It was the same signal he used at home when Abby was around, a subtle but unmistakable invitation. Your stomach flipped, and your feet moved.

The employee's room was quieter, away from the chaotic mall floor. The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed above as you stepped inside. Moments later, Mike entered, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

You leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, trying to collect yourself as Mike closed the door. His red Santa suit creaked softly as he moved, the fabric brushing against itself with every step.

"So, this is what it's come to," you began, grinning as you looked him over.

He let out a low groan, tugging at the collar of the red suit. "This thing is like wearing a goddamn oven. I'm sweating in places I didn't know I could sweat."

You laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls. "You pull it off quite well. Maybe a little too rugged for a jolly old man, though."

Mike rolled his eyes, but there was a flicker of amusement in his expression. "Yeah, well, it's not exactly by choice. I owed someone a favor because of you, and they cashed it in big time."

"Me? What did I do?"

"When you came back a week ago," he said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I asked for someone to take my shift for that day and now he asked me to take his place for this."

You laughed again, shaking your head. "It was well worth it, if you want my opinion. At least it suits you good. ‘Santa Schmidt' has a nice ring to it."

"Oh, shut up," he muttered, but his grin gave him away. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Can you blame me? You look ridiculous," you said, gesturing toward the oversized jacket, the hat slightly askew on his head. "It's like seeing a tiger wearing a bowtie."

"Yeah? That's why you've been staring at me like that?" He shot back, one brow lifting "Got something you want to tell me?"

Your face heated instantly. "I wasn't staring!" you protested, though the words came out too quick. The way he leaned against the couch with that cocky smirk made it hard to maintain your indignation. "I was just shopping. And you happened to be there."

"Right," he said, dragging the word out as he crossed his arms, the motion causing the red fabric to stretch over his broad shoulders.

"You're impossible."

"And you're a terrible liar," he shot back, his tone laced with playful challenge. "But it's cute."

He moved closer until he sank onto the small couch, the Santa suit rustling as he leaned back. The fake white beard had slipped slightly, revealing more of his stubble and you couldn't help but notice how the red of the suit made his eyes look even sharper.

Mike patted his lap, his smirk widening. "C'mere."

You blinked. "What?"

"C'mere," he repeated, his voice low, teasing. "You've been running your mouth all day. It's time for Santa to put you in your place."

You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting at the implication. "Mike-"

"I'm still on the clock. So, technically, this is official Santa business. Now, be a good boy and sit." he interrupted, leaning back further.

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. "You are ridiculous."

"And yet, you're still standing there," he pointed out, tilting his head. "Too scared now? Didn't seem shy when you dragged me into your dorm room last month."

That did it. With a muttered curse, you stepped forward and settled on his lap, feeling the warmth of him through the ridiculous costume. His hands found your hips almost instinctively, steadying you as you adjusted. The position was intimate, the small space making it impossible to avoid the way his body pressed against yours.

"There,” you said, trying to sound unaffected. "Happy?". The fake beard he had was way too annoyingly long.

"Getting there," he murmured, his voice dropping as his eyes swept over your face and momentarily dropped to your lips. "Now, tell me. Have you been a good boy this year?"

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. The playful lilt in his voice and the way his hands tightened slightly on your hips made it hard to concentrate. "I guess," you stammered, unable to meet his gaze. Your hand shot up to wave down the beard he had after it went right under your nose.

"Guess?" he repeated, his tone mock-disapproving. "That doesn't sound very convincing."

"That depends on your definition of good," you shot back, trying to regain some semblance of control. Your voice low as your hand slid up his chest. "And maybe you need to lose this beard, because it's itchy as hell." You replied, emboldened by the way his grip on your hips tightened.

You reached up and tugged the fake beard down, tossing it gently next to him and exposing more of his face. His stubble was damp with sweat, his jaw sharp and annoyingly perfect. He leaned in just enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smirk that softened into something far warmer, far more intimate, as his hands slid slowly from your hips to your waist, his touch deliberate and firm. "Now you're not going anywhere."

His eyes, sharp and glinting with a heat that made your breath catch, traveled to your lips. The humor and teasing were gone now, replaced by a focus so singular it made the air in the small room feel charged.

"I never did ask you what you wanted for Christmas." He murmured, his voice low and rasping, his lips brushing against your jaw as he spoke, his tone carrying more weight than the words themselves. His warm breath tickled your skin, the faintest graze of his lips along your jawline sending shivers down your spine.

"I-uh…" The words faltered, your chest tightening as he tilted his head, his nose grazing along your cheek.

"Go on," he urged softly, the corner of his mouth curling as he pressed closer. The heat of him seeped through the ridiculous Santa suit, his body firm beneath the plush fabric.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping lightly for balance as his lips trailed lower, ghosting over the line of your neck. You could feel every word he spoke, his voice rumbling against your skin. "I want to know, sweetheart," he continued, his hands sliding lower to rest on your hips again, holding you in place as you shifted on his lap.

The movement drew a low sound from him, barely audible but unmistakable, as the growing bulge in his lap pressed against your lower back. A flush of heat raced through your body, your breath hitching as you became acutely aware of how close you were, how little space remained between you.

Mike's lips found the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing lightly as he whispered, "can i try to guess, then?"

"Mike…" His name escaped your lips in a shaky breath, your hands tightening on his shoulders as his hands roamed, fingers curling around the hem of your shirt. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours as though asking for permission.

You nodded, your pulse racing, and his lips quirked into a small smile before he tugged your shirt upward, the fabric catching briefly before he pulled it free. His hands returned immediately, sliding up your sides, the calloused pads of his fingers a stark contrast to the heat of his touch.

"You look so good like this," he murmured, his voice rough and sincere as his eyes roamed over you. The Santa hat tilted precariously as he leaned in again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that started slow but quickly deepened.

A kiss hungry, demanding, filled with a need that had clearly been simmering for far too long. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip and you couldn't help the soft sound that escaped you as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer. The suspenders of his Santa suit pressed against your thighs, and with a smirk, he used one to tug you even closer, his other hand sliding down to cup your ass.

He shifted beneath you, the hardness of his erection pressing against you unmistakably now. He groaned softly, his head falling to your shoulder as you rolled your hips experimentally, the friction drawing another deep, guttural sound from him.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin. "You keep that up, and this suit's not going to survive the night."

You grinned, emboldened by his reaction and reached up to tug the Santa hat off his head, tossing it aside. "Better make it worth it then," you shot back, your voice teasing but breathless.

His hands slid to the waistband of your pants, his fingers toying with the fabric as his lips found yours again, tongue parting your lips as his hands worked to free you of your clothing. The anticipation was electric, every brush of his fingers sending sparks through your skin.

He broke the kiss briefly, his breath heavy as he pulled your pants down, exposing your ass. His hands immediately returned, kneading the flesh with a reverence that made your stomach flip. "You're perfect," he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down your neck as his fingers dipped lower, teasing along your entrance.

The first press of his finger was slow, deliberate, his other hand splayed firmly against your lower back to keep you steady. The stretch was intoxicating, his touch both careful and unrelenting as he worked you open.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice softer now, though his eyes burned with unrestrained need.

"It's not," you managed, your voice trembling as you shifted against him, seeking more. "Please, Mike."

His control snapped at your words, his fingers moving faster, lips capturing yours again as he prepped you thoroughly. The urgency in his touch was tempered by his care, the mix of sensations driving you closer to the edge even before the best part.

When he finally guided you onto him, the stretch was slow and deliberate, his hands gripping your hips as he helped you take him inch by inch. The sheer size was overwhelming in the best way, and he groaned low in his throat as he filled you completely.

"God, you feel so good," he rasped, his voice rough as his hands guided you into a steady rhythm. The pressure, the friction—it was perfect, every movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His lips found yours again, the kiss messy and desperate as his hands roamed, gripping and caressing as though he couldn't get enough of you. His suspenders dug into your sides as he pulled you closer, his thrusts meeting your movements with an intensity that left you gasping.

"Mike," you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, the heat of him overwhelming.

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice a low growl as he tightened his grip on your hips, driving into you harder. "Let go for me, sweetheart."

The tension coiled in your stomach snapped, pleasure washing over you in waves as your body tightened around him. He followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his release warm and overwhelming.

You collapsed against him, both of you panting heavily as the room spun around you. For a moment, the only sound was the soft hum of the fluorescent lights and the ragged rhythm of your breathing.

Mike chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around you as he leaned back against the couch. "Guess I'll never look at a Santa suit the same way again." His voice still rough but laced with humor.

You laughed, the sound muffled against his chest as you shook your head. "Neither will I," you admitted, your body still trembling as you rested against him.

Note: If you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3 Next thing I will now do is another 4 smut scenarios for all the until dawn men.

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage May 2025 Issue ft. Koga Ruito, Kawasaki Honoka and Kamata Erena (translation below)

Publication: April 10, 2025

The curtain rises on the revenge drama

The rift between Shouma and Karakida Hanto has been resolved, Shouma recovered from the mental and physical ailments that he had been suffering from, and Hanto defeated Suga Kenzo, who had continued to use him as his test subject. While Shouma and his friends were deepening their bonds, a major change was also taking place over at Stomach Inc, a company that manufactures and distributes dark sweets by using humans as ingredients. Jiip, whose whereabouts were unknown for a long time, has returned as the husband of Lizel Jaldak, the daughter of the president of the Granute world.

With the appearance of the new characters Lizel and Bocca, as well as the return of Jiip and his rebellion against Stomach Inc, a new chapter has begun. So far, the story of "Kamen Rider Gavv" has been focused on the human world, but now that powerful figures are emerging from the Granute world, there's no doubt that their world will become more prominent.

Furthermore, Siita, who was supposed to have been blown to bits during the battle against Shouma, will also reappear. In what shape will Siita be involved in the story, and how will the actions of Jiip and Lizel affect Shouma and the other Kamen Riders? Don't miss a single moment of the thrilling second half! _

Koga Ruito (Jiip) x Kawasaki Honoka (Siita) x Kamata Erena (Lizel)

-The cute but scary Lizel's irresistible charm-

"While Siita and Jiip play the roles of villains, they gained a great amount of popularity, and when Siita left the show in episode 14, many people voiced their disappointment."

Koga: I'm grateful, I truly am. Ever since I was told that my character's name was Jiip Stomach, I thought that if I searched him up on SNS, the only results I'd see would be for "Jeep" cars (everyone laughs). Thanks to the tons of feedback I've received, I feel that I'm seeing topics of the car and Jiip Stomach at a ratio of about 7 to 3 (laughs). I'm happy listening to everyones various opinions, and I'm also secretly saving illustrations when I see them.

Kawasaki: Even now, it makes me happy to see that people haven't forgotten about Siita and are still drawing her. Normally, you're forgotten about once you make your exit, right?

Koga: Isn't it impossible to forget about Siita when watching Gavv?

Kawasaki: Is that true?

Koga: What I mean to say is that I hope they remember (laughs).

Kawasaki: Fair enough (laughs). Still, I'm fortunate that illustrations are being drawn of her.

"Kamata-san, what are your impressions of Gavv?"

Kamata: Since the show uses a motif based around sweets, tons of sweets appear, and every time I watch it I think, "That looks tasty" or "I'm hungry" (laughs). At any rate, I think it's a fun show to watch.

"Were there any sweets in particular that you liked?"

Kamata: I myself love to eat, so everything looks delicious, but the soda gummies left a lasting impression on me. He makes eating things like cake look so delicious (laughs).

Koga: Shouma's really skilled at giving eating reactions (laughs).

"Jiip had been "out of the spotlight" for a lengthy amount of time, but we think many fans were shocked to see him reappear alongside his new wife Lizel in episode 29."

Kawasaki: I never thought he'd get married

Koga: I was shocked when I read the script too. In the very beginning, a few words appeared that alluded to marriage, but I would've never imagined that it'd be brought back up now and turned into such a big event.

Kawasaki: You figured it out, huh?

Koga: As expected, we can't underestimate Komura-san's scripts.

Kamata: The foreshadowing has been properly thought out, huh?

Koga: That's right. The story has been carefully thought out, but it's difficult reading into how each and every element will develop.

"The setup of Lizel also being the president's daughter left a strong impact. It was also surprising to learn that there's a president in the Granute world."

Koga: I know, right? It seems that stuff resembling politics is present in the Granute world too.

"Kamata-san, what kind of person do you see Lizel as?"

Kamata: She only just made her appearance, and there's still alot that I can't talk about, but……generally speaking, I think she's a selfish girl, and I'm doing my best to make her as detestable as possible (laughs).

Koga: Jiip and Siita had always been messing around in their own little world, where they'd both cover for each other, but that's since fallen apart. Then Lizel showed up, but will she be the one to fill the hole in Jiip's heart or not?……

"Koga-san, what's your impression of Lizel from Kawasaki-san's perspective?"

Koga: I guess the best words would be, "What's yours is mine, and what's mine is mine" (laughs).

Kawasaki: My reaction as Siita would probably be something like, "(enraged) Who's this?!," right? Man……I didn't know they were getting married (everyone laughs).

Koga: Huh? It seems like no one told you. That's so strange……(laughs).

Kawasaki: I'm already feeling jealous (laughs). For my own impression of Lizel, when I watched her performance, there were plenty of parts that made me think, "How scary……"

Koga: You can't tell what she's thinking, right?

Kamata: Even though her facial expressions are cheerful, she's pretty demanding, huh? In order to give off the impression of being selfish, I'm conscious of the fact that while the content of what she's saying isn't very nice, the way I say it is like a child pretending to be cute.

"She also refers to her husband Jiip as a "cute doll," and there are times where there's no way of knowing how she really feels about him."

Kamata: That's right. As I perform, there are times where I think, "Oh!," and others where I'm like, "Oh…"

Koga: You can't talk about it just yet (laughs).

Kamata: (laughs). Still, the type of person Lizel likes isn't someone who looks happy. When it comes to Jiip, she likes him due to the various things he's been through in the past.

Koga: Right. It's because he's terribly traumatized. I wonder what'll happen to him. Will Lizel continue to use him in this way, or will he use Lizel……

Koga & Kamata: Which will it be? (everyone laughs).

-Three gorgeous and unique costumes for three different people-

"Regarding Jiip's performance, did you change anything before and after his reappearance?"

Koga: Lizel picked him up, and while at first glance it may have seemed as if he were saved, I still think his current state of mind is one where he would immediately break down if pushed. I've been doing tons of research in order to express the feeling that I don't know what he's thinking, and that his mental state is alittle unstable.

"Siita, who was supposed to have made her exit from the show, was also seen in the preview for episode 30……"

Kawasaki: I can't tell you in what form she'll appear in yet, but it was abit difficult because the setting requires a performance different from how Siita previously was. I had to consult with Koga-chan on set.

Kamata: When I watched them in that state, it looked as if they were already family.

Kawasaki: Do you mean it?

Koga: Thank you!

Kawasaki: What would've happened if Siita hadn't left and met Lizel?

Koga: You'd have to be miserable for her to like you, right?

Kamata: In that case, I don't know if Lizel would like Siita.

Koga: If anything, she probably wouldn't like Jiip either.

Kamata: If they had stayed together, he might never have met Lizel.

Kawasaki: She probably wouldn't be interested in him.

Kamata: I'd like to see a story featuring that kind of timeline.

"Siita, Jiip, and Lizel, all three of them have costumes that leave a glamorous impression. Do you have anything that you like about your own costumes?"

Kawasaki & Kamata: (glancing over at Koga-san)

Koga: Why are you looking at me?

Kawasaki: No, we just remembered what you said some time ago.

Koga: Ah! I like the view of Jiip's back side because I think it makes him appear as a stronger character than from the front. When I talked about this with both of them and the staff, they said, "You're a narcissist" (everyone laughs).

"That's harsh (laughs)."

Koga: I was just trying to say that I like how the costume looks……(laughs). Still, I really like how it looks from behind.

Kamata: I like ribbons, so in that sense, the boots are my favorite due to all the ribbons on them. Overall, I also like how there's frills and all sorts of other stuff attached to the costume.

Koga: It's cute.

Kawasaki: Yeah, it's really cute.

Kamata: I myself have a taste for cute looking clothes, and people who I've met for the first time will often say, "This is to be expected of the president's daughter, don't you think?" I'd just like to express my thanks for making such a wonderful costume.

Kawasaki: The style of Siita's jacket is cool, and her socks with the frills and ribbons are cute, as it gives off an exquisite feeling, but I like the overall look of the costume. I think my most favorite thing might be the belt.

Kamata: Yeah, it's cool.

Koga: I think Siita's characterization is a one of a kind within Gavv.

Kawasaki: I think so too. It feels like the girls costumes in Gavv are quite frilly, but Siita's is somewhere between a boys and a girls.

Koga: It gives off the feeling of a mix between a military uniform and a girly outfit, which is cool.

"Finally, please give a message to the fans."

Kawasaki: Siita's return is coming to fruition, so I want Siita fans to keep an eye out for her going forward. I'm also looking to see what'll happen with Jiip and Lizel from a viewer's perspective, and I hope to enjoy Gavv together with all of you from here on out.

Kamata: Thank you for always watching Gavv. With the arrival of the new character Lizel, it'd make me happy if you enjoy the show while becoming excited over what'll happen next!

Koga: (looking at Kamata-san) Your body language and hand gestures are already that of a young lady's (laughs).

Kamata: I can't help but do it (everyone laughs).

Koga: At last, the Stomach Family's side of the story is beginning to unfold. As the story progresses, I'm sure that there will be an increase in unexpected parts that'll subvert everyone's expectations, so I definitely hope that you'll look forward to future developments!

[sporesgalaxy]

LET ME TELL YOU THE SETUP FOR MY BEAUTIFUL COOKIE CLICKER LOVE STORY

it's not everything but it's a decent introduction to the characters. I've been writing this summary for weeks. I'm hoping that feeling like I can reference parts in the middle will give me more ideas......

why does it hate my images...ok fine no images. god

•••

0 Ascensions:

Cookie is always on the lookout for new ways to bake ungodly amounts of cookies, so she approaches Kirschtorte after reading about the doctor's experimental portal research having once resulted in the retreival of a small amount of alien matter.

The first time Michelle Kirschtorte meets Cookie Cliquer, she does not touch a single morsel of the extravagant cookie spread that Ms. Cliquer made to butter her up. The same thing happens the second, fourth, fifth time they meet and discuss business, no matter what variety of cookies Cookie makes. At last Cookie subjects herself to the mortifying ordeal of directly asking Dr. Kirschtorte what kind of cookies she likes-- only to be shocked and horrified when the doctor says that she does not eat any cookies whatsoever.

Despite her inexplicable distaste for cookies, Michelle Kirschtorte is receptive to Cookie's business offer, but she remains unmoved by Cookie's sickly-sweet commercial persona. Secretly at first, Kirschtorte is deeply cynical about the whole arrangement; she was screwed over by her previous colleagues, and progress on her portal research has been stagnating for some time now because of it. Although she doesn't admit it to Cookie at first, the doctor feels humiliated by the prospect of turning to a baked goods corporation for funding. Michelle ends up accepting the deal under the impression that she is taking advantage of Cookie's deep pockets and naive enthusiasm for unorthodox theoretical baking techniques.

When the cookie-focused research initiatives start yeilding mind-bogglingly impressive results, Kirschtorte reassesses her portal research priorities and her impressions of her oddball benefactor. Cookies are, for some reason, the key to understanding and exploiting the greatest secrets of the universe. Even more impressively, Ms. Cliquer seems intuitively in touch with the logic behind these shocking cookie truths. What other great scientific discoveries could cookie research yeild? How does Cliquer think of this stuff? Why DOES everyone like cookies so damn much? Kirschtorte finds herself irresistably drawn in by these exciting scientific possibilities, as well as the much less sweet and more insatiably driven person she starts getting to know behind Cookie's crowd-pleasing public persona.

Despite a stilted start to their relationship, Cookie and Michelle get along very well once they find even footing. Both are driven to prove themselves through their work, both have been underestimated and cast aside by peers and superiors in the past. Cookie's obsessive drive to make and market infinite perfect cookies matches Michelle's obsessive drive to understand everything there is to know about the nature of the universe; both are deeply passionate about their work and typically striving tirelessly towards the same goal. Both believe that their ends justify their means, and that ethical concerns are a waste of time and a thorn in the side of progress.

Cookie has a knack for PR that Michelle has always lacked the patience for; Michelle understands and appreciates the true, transcendent importance of cookies nearly as much as Cookie does-- Cookie's business partners usually don't care about that part.

Cookie eventually achieves enlightenment and realizes the Secret of the Heavenly Chips, granting her the ability to Ascend. Cookie should be overjoyed at the cosmic knowledge within her grasp; great new possibilities in cookie production await her!

Yet Cookie drags her feet. She keeps finding excuses to stay where she is, keeps setting goals even as her progress slows to a crawl, and reaching those goals in this lifetime seems less and less feasible...

Still, the stress of failure and stagnation chips away at Cookie's resolve to keep dragging out her first iteration. The knowledge of how much she could be doing with the power Ascension would grant her makes Cookie increasingly irritable and bitter about the work which she's made her entire life revolve around.

Kirschtorte is stressed and angry about the slowed progress, too. She is increasingly afraid that age and death will catch up with herself and Cookie before they can discover everything there is to know about reality (and cookies). Michelle is vexed by Cookie's comparative lack of urgency-- or is it a lack of hope for any solution? Cookie has always been the most driven person Michelle's known, yet now Cookie's detatchedness toes the line of seeming resigned to failure. Michelle feels like everything she thought she understood about Cookie is slipping through her fingers, and she feels powerless against the onward march of time (DESPITE having access to time machines!), and she doesn't know how to cope.

The temptation of exponentially greater cookie production and the crushing agony of stagnation eventually outweigh Cookie's sentimental attachment to this particular iteration of her life. Cookie Ascends.

(Michelle lives the rest of her life feeling emptier in Cookie's absence, and never knowing why Cookie vanished.)

1st iteration to reach the Grandmapocalypse:

The first time Michelle Kirschtorte meets Cookie Cliquer, she is offered a slice of Black Forest Cake, her favorite. Somewhat suspicious of the COOKIE Magnate offering her cake, Michelle still can't bring herself to resist. Cookie is clearly delighted.

Kirschtorte doesn't take Cookie seriously at first and Cookie knows it, and finds it funny. Kirschtorte has to be convinced of the omnipresence and significance of cookies thru material evidence. Cookie is more hands-on helping speed along her research, but only ever reveals information in bite-sized pieces on a need-to-know basis. It becomes increasingly clear to Kirschtorte that Cookie somehow knows a lot about the most far-fetched characteristics of cookies before they're scientifically proven...and that Cookie has a suspiciously good intuition for knowing things about Kirschtorte herself.

Cookie is delighted by her extra power and knowledge at first. She's entertained by using her extra experience to tease Kirschtorte. Cookie enjoys getting to spend more time with Michelle, despite how one-sided the relationship is early on. Michelle is drawn to Cookie even more from the get-go, because of her strange intuitive understanding of Michelle herself, as well as Cookie Theory.

During the first Grandmapocalypse, Cookie is overwhelmed and focuses on trying to feel in control rather than seeking help from Kirschtorte. When Dr. Kirschtorte approaches Cookie about it, Michelle is surprised by how stubbornly Cookie refuses to bend even slightly to the wishes of the Grandmatriarchs, no matter how logical and cost-effective that would be. Not fully understood by to Kirschtorte, this is motivated mostly by Cookie's resentment for her own grandmother (who is now a parf of the Grandma collective, of course). Cookie insists that any compliance or appeasement would only lead to Cookie and her company being trapped under the Grandmatriarchs' elderly thumb forever.

Instead, Cookie is dead set on overcoming the Grandmatriarchs' sabotage by outpacing them through brute force. Michelle sees this as a fight she is doomed to lose, but Cookie refuses to consider any alternatives.

Cookie's seemingly pointless uphill battle convinces Michelle that cooperating with the Grandmatriarchs is the only way to keep cookie production and research moving forward at a viable pace (she is objectively correct about this). Michelle wants to trust Cookie's leadership, but the two of them are getting older (this is especially visible on Michelle, who is effected by constant proximity to Cookieverse Portals), and Michelle is beginning to fear they might die before they uncover and exploit all the cookie-based secrets of the universe. After all the work they've done, the thought of not being able to see it through upsets Kirschtorte terribly. The Grandmatriarchs subconsciously whisper things to Michelle which exacerbate these fears-- something Michelle is susceptible to due to her proximity to the Cookieverse Portals.

Eventually, Kirschtorte caves. Against Cookie's wishes-- but in Kirschtorte's mind, for Cookie's sake as well as her own-- Kirschtorte convenes with the Grandmatriarchs anyways by using the Cookieverse Portals. She asks them for knowledge of how to lessen the Grandmatriarchs' wrath, and she asks for them to help her understand the true nature of the universe. In exchange, the Grandmatriarchs' ask Michelle to bond her mind with them just a little (still retaining most of her individuality), and vow that she will continue to proliferate portals to the cookieverse as long as she lives. That seems like an easy promise to Michelle, and it makes sense that they would want this. She already makes portals to the cookieverse all the time, so no big deal. Cookie was probably being stubborn and mistrusting for nothing!

Michelle performs the Elder Pledge ("a simple ritual involving anti-aging cream, cookie batter mixed in the moonlight, and a live chicken"), and the Grandmapocalypse is halted. The Wrinklers and Flesh Highways withdraw and cookie production returns to normal, with the Research Facility's grandma augmentation benefits still at work.

Cookie isn't sure what to make of the sudden withdraw of the Grandmatriarchs, but she has a bad feeling.

The way Michelle's deal works is that Kirschtorte will die normally someday, but then the Grandmatriarchs will carry her consciousness and memories to another iteration of Kirschtorte who asks for the same deal, and their knowledge will be combined into 1 continuous consciousness. This will repeat over and over, with more knowledge added to the collective each time, and each new Kirschtorte never knowing about her past selves or the secrets they've uncovered before she complies with the Grandmatriarchs.

Kirschtorte asks the Grandmatriarchs if they can do the same for Cookie, and is shocked to learn that Cookie was never going to run out of time, and never told her. Was Cookie willing to waste the rest of Kirschtorte's limited lifetime arguing with a grandma hivemind?! Did the work they do together matter so little to her?!!

When Michelle confronts her about it, Cookie learns in turn that Michelle is permanently cosmically bound to the Grandmatriarchs. Cookie feels betrayed, but she mostly blames Grandma-- ignoring Michelle's agency in the situation, thoughtlessly belittling her to keep her on a pedestal.

They continue to have problems in this and future iterations, with Kirschtorte always spending a large portion of their time together unaware of all their past lives until suddenly becoming aware when she inevitably goes against Cookie's wishes and speaks to the Grandmatriarchs. And yet, as much as they both claim to be ruthless utilitarians who put their work above all else, it is always quite obvious how much they admire each other and how badly they always want to be together, even at their worst. With all the time they spend building and destroying and rebuilding a cookie empire over and over again, they come to know and understand each other very intimately. They're both insufferably weird about each other when they both have all their memories.

[madlori]

What I keep coming back to is: we've seen this breakup before with them.

This is the Miceli's breakup. Exactly. It's the same motivation. They had Tommy say the exact same words as he left.

That has to be intentional.

But is it intentional for which of these reasons?

The first time, Buck reached out and fixed it, and they got back together, but this time, it's too much and it can't be fixed.

Buck reached out and fixed it the first time, and he will do the same thing again, someday.

I would feel pretty good about option 2 except for that one fucking word: "Buck."

The first breakup, Tommy said "I'll see you around." This time, he said "I'll see you around, BUCK." We all know that's significant, but I couldn't tell you in what way it's significant. I fear that it's significant in that it's meant to indicate the finality of it, and that this time...there is no fixing it.

But having written the same breakup for two characters twice when it worked out the first time is such an irresistible setup for a reunion, and we know what suckers these writers are for an irresistible setup.

Because narratively? There is NOTHING that supports a permanent breakup as the best outcome here. NOTHING.

You don't find it, you make it. "Hurdles to overcome." Having to decide if the relationship is worth fighting for. Making it through when you're at your worst. EVERYTHING in this show's buildup of Buck's character, and the storyline, makes you think they will work through this.

But I just don't know if the writers are following the same narrative threads as we are.

[alocon]

Always Irresistible [3] - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

written by alocon

Summary: Despite all hope, Lando never lost his feelings for his best friend's twin sister. However, he still hadn't acted on it. Well, that was until the party, which led you two into a long-term secret relationship

Warnings and Tropes: Fluff, part 3 to the story released the other day.

[Part One Here] [Part Two Here] [Part Four Here] [Masterlist]

Always Irresistible - Ln4 x Fem!Reader

Your head leant onto your boyfriend's shoulder as you watched a film on your bed. He had basically moved all his stuff into your room by this point and was only using his room as a streaming setup. One of his arms was around your back, the other being placed gently onto your knee. 

The pair of you had been in a fair share of arguments over the time you'd been in a relationship but it didn't stop you both from making up again in the end. It was a normal thing that happened between every couple in every relationship. Arguing was completely normal.

You first felt his attention on you when a jumpscare came onto the screen. Lando would usually look away until the scene was over and then would look back, but this time you could feel like eyes burning into you. You turned to look back at him, noticing the way his eyes scanned over your face. You were pretty sure he could draw you from memory down to the placement of every single freckle on your face by the amount of time he had spent staring, however, you didn't mind. It made you feel loved, appreciated. It made you feel beautiful. “What?” You asked quietly, confused about why he was staring at you now.

“You're just.” He paused to look over your face again, his eyes filled with nothing but love. “I'm so glad we're together.” You smiled. That was sweet.

You placed a kiss on his lips. “I'm glad we are too.” Apparently, that one kiss was not enough for his liking as he leaned in again, his hands gripping your waist as you pulled you in for a longer, more intimate kiss that the peck you had given him only moments before. You, obviously, kissed back, letting him climb over you, laying you back on the bed below him. You knew where this was heading and you were all for it as he lost the shirt, it landing on the floor beside the bed. 

He had done everything in his power since you got together to make you feel like the most perfect woman in the world. It was like the two of you were made for each other, every kiss making you fall more and more in love. You adored the way he wouldn't let you go in the morning. You adored how, if he went out with his friends for the day, you would barely be able to leave his embrace because he missed you. You loved every single thing about this relationship. It was perfect. Sometimes you both wished that you could share it with the world.

“What the fuck.” You pulled away quickly from the kiss, Lando grabbing his shirt and throwing it on, over his head. You looked at the furious man in the doorway as he turned to walk away, stating that he wished to talk to Lando the kitchen. He placed another quick kiss to your lips before following the man, shutting the door behind him. 

It was silent for a moment, weirdly silent. And then, shouting. Arguing. You listened into the argument as best you could but could barely hear anything. You could only pick out a few words here and there. You sat on your bed, thinking about what to do, deciding that, if it didn't stop in a couple of minutes, you would have to go sort him out yourself. 

The arguing still hadn't stopped.

“I can't believe you'd do this. I made it very clear that she is one to fall and fall hard for someone and that she was very much off limits. I can't believe you would go behind my back to fuck with her feelings, what the hell. Seriously, what are you thinking screwing with her head like that?” Max was furious and Lando was a little anxious in that moment. He had never seen him so angry.

“I'm not, Max. I would never play with her feelings like that, don't be stupid. Why would I ever do that to her?”

Max's shouting only got louder. “Because you've done it before. How many times have you dated someone or got with them for a month or two only to turn around and change your mind and claim you can't love them like they deserve. That you love someone else and so it would be unfair to them. How do I know that you won't do the same to my sister?”

Lando's voice matched Max's now. “Because its always been her!”

Max went silent in an instant. It was Lando’s turn to rant at him, now.

“For God's Sake, Max. She is the one I've been in love with all these years. She's the one I've wanted to be with since we were 13. But I didn’t pursue a relationship because she's your sister. I would've felt bad because she's your twin. I tried to date other women to get over her. Believe me, I tried. But I couldn't, because I've never got over her. It's always been her. It will always be her.”

Max didn't know what to say. He didn't even notice your presence in the doorway. “Max, if you plan to keep shouting at my boyfriend, you need to leave.”

“Boyfriend?” Max looked between the two and saw Lando looking equally as surprised at that outburst.

You looked at Lando, stepping closer to him. “Lan he knows. Isn't it better to be fully open now?” You were speaking quietly to him. Your voice changed into a whisper. “Only if you're comfortable.”

“Yeah. I am.” You sat on the kitchen counter beside him as he spoke. He smiled at you, before turning to Max. “Yes. Boyfriend.”

“For how long?”

“July-”

“You've been dating for six months and didn't tell me?” He cut Lando off as he spoke.

“No, Max. July last year. 2023.”

“A year and six months and you didn't tell me?”

“We didn't tell most people!”

“Who knows?” He asked, looking straight at you. 

“Zak, Oscar, Alex and both Lily's. Oh, and Max and Charlie but that's only because Charles doesnt know how to knock on a door and Max is his little gossip buddy slash emotional support rival thing.”

“And Alex and Lily only found out because they walked out of the club at the party last year with us. And we only told Zak, Oscar and Lily at first to make sure no photos of us holding hands were posted. So really, you're one of the first few.”

“Still though. That's so many people you told before me!” Max was slightly raising his voice again.

“Because I knew you'd act like this,” you raised your voice back at him. He looked surprised. As did Lando. Lando had never heard you raise your voice at anyone before. You rarely did. “Stop treating me like a child, Max. I'm a grown fucking adult.”

“I can't believe you're being so selfish.” Max deadpanned as he looked at you, voice still raised. “He was my friend first.”

“This isn't a fucking competition. He can be both your friend and my boyfriend!”

“Yeah? Says who?”

“Me! P was my friend before she was your girlfriend but you don't see me out and about bitching like you do. But no, you can't handle it being the other way around because for once, your sister has decided to do something for her that makes her happy without worrying what you would think of her. For God's Sake, Max. You need to grow up.” Lando placed his hand on you as you ranted at your brother. 

“That's different. She was your best friend, Lando is my childhood best friend.”

“It's not different, you're just a fucking hypocrite.” You stood up off the counter, walking away. A few moments later, the slam of a door could be heard. 

Max turned to look at Lando. “You need to make a decision, Lando. Our friendship or your relationship.”

You sat in the bedroom, having just let a couple of tears fall from your face. You had heard Max's words. And then nothing. You heard the door open and shut. That was an hour ago and you had heard nothing from then since so, as hard as it was, you figured that he had chosen Max. It didn't surprise you. Max was his best friend, you completely got it. You dropped a text to P.

To P: Hi lovely. I just wanted to apologise for not telling you sooner about this but Lando and I are (or were) together. I didn't want to tell you because we weren't ready for Max to know and I didn't want Max to be upset with you for knowing and not telling him. Miss you lots x

From P: Hi!! Thank you for telling me. I'm glad you did. I completely understand why you didn't tell me sooner. I had my suspicions anyways. What do you mean “or were”??? 

You began to talk to P about what happened, her promising to invite you over for a binge ice cream and crying session if he does choose Max. You felt a lot better. Opting to ignore everything else and shut the world out, you rolled over and closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep quite easily. 

You were awoken not too long later by the feeling of a hand on your face. You groaned softly, opening your eyes to see him crouched in front of you, eyes at the same level as you. “Hey beautiful, how long have you been asleep?”

“Not too long. I thought you went with Max.”

“Did you hear what he said?”

“About you choosing me or him? Yes.”

Lando placed a kiss on your cheek. “Oh darling, I'm so sorry. I didn't think. I just went out to get us food for dinner so that we don't have to cook. I should've messaged. I'm so sorry.” He placed his forehead against yours, helping you sit up as you hugged him. He pulled you off of the bed, bringing you to the living room to sit beside you, food boxes in hand. You smiled. He had gone out of his way to drive to Nice to get you food from your favourite noodle place. He passed you a pair of chopsticks, grinning at you.

“Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you more,” he responded, no hesitation. 

“So,” you said after taking a bite of your food. “What happened?”

Max turned to look at Lando. “You need to make a decision, Lando. Our friendship or your relationship.”

Lando looked at him, surprise in his face as he never thought his best friend would stoop that far. Grabbing his keys, he signalled for Max to walk out the door, him following behind as a look of triumph appeared on Max's face. The two stayed in silence until they got to the car park. That was when Lando turned to Max.

“I'm glad you came to your senses and chose me, mate.”

Lando chuckled, a bitter, annoyed chuckle. “Who said I was choosing you?”

Max looked at him, his face dropping into one of confusion. “You're out here with me.”

Lando looked at Max. “I hope, for your sake, that you will never again ask me to pick between you and my girlfriend ever again because I will choose her every single time.”

“What the hell, Lando. I've known you longer.”

Lando stepped closer, right in front of Max's face. “And she's the woman I want to marry one day. So rather than me making a choice, you get to. You should take some time to calm down and to think long and hard about whether you want this battle because, when I do marry her, it's your actions that determine whether you'll be there alongside me as my best man or not.” Lando stepped back, turning around and getting in his car. “Now if you don't mind me, I'm going to get my girlfriend and I dinner.”

-The End-

[Word Count: 2008]

Hi All, Hope you enjoyed this part, I enjoyed writing it. I wrote this at work earlier because I had nothing to do hahah. Have a good day x Alocon

[kinkandkreep]

Yandere!Prime Omega!Rin x Prime Alpha!Yoichi

Currently just sittin' here thinkin' 'bout Prime Omega Rin being completely and utterly consumed by his obsesssion with Prime Alpha Yoichi.

It's gross, and weird and decidedly concerning but Rin does not care in the slightest.

He's collected several of what he likes to call "keepsakes" from his encounters with the Alpha, like the classics: strands of hair (he once had the strong urge to clip off Yoichi's adorable little sprout while he slept and keep it), dirty undergarments (one time, when rifling through Yoichi’s dirty laundry hamper, Rin stumbled upon a pair of boxer-briefs stained with a small amount of precum. He nearly lost his mind at the scent, but before he could do anything to blow his cover, he pocketed the briefs and took them home to add to his "keepsake" collection), and little things that remind Rin of Yoichi, like that lobster keychain he caught him eyeing at a market one day.

But then, there's the stranger things Rin's somehow procured.

For instance, he's got several bandages seeped with Yoichi's blood that he keeps (that he may or may not have tried to suck the blood out of), a used toothbrush (which he may or may not have used himself), a very gently used razor, discarded gum and a worn bar of Yoichi’s favorite brand of soap.

Rin keeps everything hidden away and neatly organized in a space in his closet at home. He doesn't like to call it a shrine exactly, 'cus that's hella cliché, but that's lowkey kind of what it is.

He also has a ton of pictures of Yoichi, taken from various devices and saved in various places.

From candid captures to pictures with more of a professional setup, Rin adores seeing Yoichi in his natural state, whether that be in the midst of eating, sweating during training, or smiling big and bright.

Rin despises being away from Yoichi, he quite literally wants to cut him open and crawl up into his skin, then sew him back together from the inside out and just live curled up in his abdomen, closest to the Alpha's heart.

He's had increasingly violent thoughts about Yoichi, wanting to "devour" him, and be devoured in return.

He wants to be wrecked by Yoichi, used and hurt and ultimately consumed.

He wants to give him pups, a whole healthy litter- a big, happy family.

All these contrasting thoughts try their best to drive Rin insane. He tries his best to control them, but the task becomes more difficult as time passes, and he's forced to watch the friendly, sociable, magnetic, irresistible Yoichi laugh and interact with his friends and others.

Rin doesn't like the fact that other people take up so much of Yoichi's time. It makes the possessive, clingy, needy part of him flare up angrily.

Yoichi belongs to Rin. Whether he knows it yet or not.

Nothing's official; they've not yet given each other mating marks or even scented one another, but Rin knows in his heart of hearts that he and Yoichi are meant to be.

'My darling Alpha, I love you so much.'

[buubonita]

What do you think the bad sanses love languages are? Like physical touch, gift giving, etc

Well this is a hard one to define. Mainly because it will be an answer based on what I understand of the characters and not so much if it is canon appropriate or not.

But canon doesn't matter.

BSP displays of affection, do you mean between them or towards each other? I still can't figure out how they work together. So I'll talk in general.

I think Killer has no idea what it is to give affection. And if he does, his ideas must be distorted by his own experiences. The closest thing to a display of affection he could have is to warn others from the knowledge he has about his environment and the people around him if that can avoid an unpleasant moment (I go back to that post where I said he would advise Dust and Horror about Nightmare and when or how to handle him)

I don't see either of them being physically affectionate. Killer touches others as a method of keeping himself grounded rather than with a good intention. I'd say it depends on the state of his soul but I'm not sure either (state 3 and 4 seem to be prone to extreme violence and 1 is the full awareness of guilt eating away at the poor guy)

Killer doesn't have the best references when it comes to giving affection either. If we think of a setup where Murder and Horror are there as "toys" that Nightmare gave to Killer, I can see him translating Nightmare's behaviors to the two of them.

Though who knows, maybe he can learn a thing or two from the right person.

Murder and Horror seem to be the most willing to do something terrible in the name of those they love the most.

Horror doesn't seem like the gushing type at all, Sans didn't usually be either but he showed his affection for his brother in small gestures (reading to him before bed, helping him make costumes for his party, peeling an apple for him) so I think he would follow that same pattern of doing small things, niceties to take care of who he cares about. Maybe he knows Dust has a favorite color and gives him a gift of that color, or maybe he lets Killer name his weapons and addresses them that way.

Small nonsense but it makes it known that he is there.

What I do see as a form of affection, and partly because his memory fails, is that Horror gives nicknames to the people he hangs out with. The more nicknames, the more dear they are to him.

I also don't see him touching anyone so openly. Maybe on rare occasions and they are simple touches like punches or pats.

However, he is not above hurting or simply ignoring their personal desires and convictions. He fed his brother human flesh despite Papyrus telling him he didn't want to, he lied to the entire town about a new policy because he didn't want to take responsibility for things getting screwed up because of him, and he condemned his friends (although he is not the only one to blame) to a screwed up life.

Nightmare.

All of Nightmare's "displays of affection" lead to violence. Nightmare can't feel healthy affection for anyone in his corrupted state. I think even if he wanted to love someone, he'd end up hurting them.

I've said this before, but Nightmare would definitely compliment anyone in the group while they're dying because he finds their pain "too irresistible."

Becoming the object of Nightmare's affection only brings more pain unfortunately.

In a healthy version it's even hard to determine, because the best mercy Nightmare could give the MTT is to let them go. While some like to explore the idea of ​​Nightmare striving to improve, I personally like that but it also depends on how heinous Nightmare's actions have been and trying to determine if it makes sense for the rest of the MTT to trust his promise of wanting to change for the better.

If he did change for the better, their relationship wouldn't stop being complicated. There are no perfect relationships, there will always be instances of tension between parties even in the best of times and it's a matter of everyone involved doing their part to make it work. Relationships are not one-sided and one person cannot and does not have to bear all the responsibility.

It would be nice to see, if Nightmare were to redeem himself, teach others to better manage their "negative" emotions in less destructive and healthier ways. And above all learn to respect everyone's personal boundaries.

Nightmare would be fine with physical contact if he was the one to initiate it, I think. He would have to trust someone a lot to let them touch him and it wouldn't last long.

And lastly there's Dust.

I really like the idea that Dust writes. He doesn't know how to voice his feelings very well so he's better at writing them down. Maybe little notes left in the space of the people he cares about, even if they're just loose sentences, it doesn't take a lot of words to express great things when it comes to feelings.

And sometimes saying I love you feels like an impossible feat or something sacred that not many feel ready for.

Dust and physical contact don't get along very well either, but I like to think that sometimes he would initiate contact, leaning on his companions to make himself noticed and know that he is there.

I hope this satisfies you, anon! Thank you for your ask, i have fun braining all this.

[soulessjourney]

One Last Time

Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader

Word count: 5.5k

Summary: Just what truly happened during the battle with Ketheric Thorm?

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of violence, OOC Astarion, injuries, talk of mental health, some fluff, Tav is on her journey of having a redeption arc, Confessions, some fluff, Heavy Act 2 Spoilers

A/N: Buckle up kiddies this is gonna be a long one. I did add a bit of my own spin on things in some parts just to help fill in the aspects of the fighting to make it more dramatic.

Ketheric Thorm, a man who defied death and wasn't meant to survive. He bore the responsibility for unleashing the Shadow Curse and cowardly sought refuge in Moonrise Towers, at least that's how you perceived it. Meeting him as a true soul set the stage for your downfall. Upon your arrival, your Guardian, with a hint of disgust in her voice, made you acutely aware of his identity. Being in proximity to the absolute felt like a dream, yet an unsettling feeling lingered. You sensed manipulation, as if you were a mere pawn in his game. Moonrise, though familiar, seemed to beckon you, and the guards appeared well-informed about your identity. Anger and fury welled up within you, resentful of the power he wielded. A part of you contended that this power was rightfully yours, and an irresistible urge to claim it consumed you.

As your eyes follow Thorm out of the room, Astarion clears his throat beside you. "Well, that was eventful. Say, how are we supposed to kill someone who can't be killed? Seems like a setup if you ask me." He shrugs, prompting a scoff from Shadowheart.

"You know, Astarion, I would like to go one day without your comments," she grumbles, eliciting a pout from Astarion and a breathless laugh from you. After about a month or two of being together, your group had grown close, opening up in various ways. Despite only being together for a short time, they appointed you the leader, leading to disagreements, especially with more qualified individuals like Gale.

The banter between Astarion and Shadowheart continues as you walk out of the tower. "I'm just saying, Darling, there's no way in the nine hells we can kill someone who simply cannot be killed. That's like asking a rock to walk," he shrugs, shooting a smug smile toward Shadowheart.

Just as she opens her mouth to respond, you cut them off. "That's enough, you two. The entire Shadow Land can hear your bickering," you grumble as Lae’zel nods in agreement. "Besides, we're almost to the Mausoleum, and it's rude to disturb the dead," you say, suppressing a smile at the pure annoyance on Shadowheart's face. It's rare for Astarion to get the last word, and when he does, he becomes the cockiest man alive.

Falling behind your group, Gale nudges you and raises a questioning brow. It's unusual for you to lag behind, considering your usual determination to lead and be the first to jump into action to protect your party. "What's going on in that head of yours?" he asks, keeping his voice low so as not to draw attention.

Shrugging, you fiddle with your armor before letting out a sigh. "I just don't have the best feeling. It's like something is about to happen, and we won't be able to avoid it. I'm worried that whatever we're about to face, there's no coming back from it." Odd feelings weren't unfamiliar to you; after all, you constantly battled the urge to commit daily murders. However, today's unease had you more concerned than usual.

Gale nods, letting out a thoughtful hum as he considers his response. "It's not because I plan on blowing myself up, is it?" he asks, a laugh escaping his lips. His expression turns serious when he notices your lack of laughter. "Tav, everything will be okay. We have each other, and we're all equally dedicated to ensuring our survival. Nothing will happen, and I especially know that Astarion won't let anything happen to you," he says, giving you a knowing look.

You and Astarion shared something, although you weren't sure what it was beyond the occasional intimacy. Both of you were highly protective of each other, yet he dismissed it as shameless flirting. You desired something more with Astarion, but you knew he was apprehensive. He was new to the affection you showed him and unfamiliar with being cared for in a way he had never experienced before.

Just as you were about to respond, a figure emerges from the shadows just before you reach the Mausoleum. Astarion groans at the sight of Raphael gliding towards your group, his usual mischievous smile spread widely across his lips. "Well, well, isn't it my favorite group of adventurers?" he says, stopping just before your group. You step forward, noting how Astarion positions himself behind you, rolling his shoulders forward almost as if to appear larger—a simple act of protection that's hard to resist smiling at. "I know it's odd for a Devil to ask for a favor, but there's something I'll grant you in return," Raphael says, locking his eyes on yours.

Astarion scoffs and crosses his arms. "Just spit it out already; we don't have time for your riddles," he deadpans, shifting closer to you, ready to throw you behind him if Raphael makes a move to harm you.

"Now, now, this isn't the time to lack patience," Raphael says, standing taller. "I need you to take care of a problem, a competition, we can call it. In return, I'll give your little vampire friend answers about the scars on his back—a translation that I know you both are just dying to know." He grins, watching your eyes widen before turning to look back at Astarion. "His name is Yurgir, and dealing with him will do a lot of good. He's breaking his contract and needs to be sent right back to where he came from as a...lesson." He says, looking over your group. "Once you find him, take care of him. I will know, and it will determine if you get the answers you so desperately seek." Just as he finishes his sentence, he disappears right in front of you.

Exhaustion seeps through you as your group stays quiet. "I guess we have some work to do," you mumble, walking forward into the Mausoleum. The others hesitate as they watch you, concerned about your sudden lack of energy. Usually, you would be up for anything, even if it meant dealing with a devil. As you walk into the building, the group exchanges worried glances before following you inside.

---

The confrontation with Yurgir turned out to be surprisingly easy, given his already paranoid state. With his contract entwined in a song, convincing him to turn against his allies, including Nessa, a displacer beast you empathized with, proved to be a straightforward task. In your mind, she didn't deserve to meet her end in the manner she did. Subsequently, you seamlessly entered his paranoid thoughts, persuading him to take his own life. Lae’zel and Astarion, usually at odds, expressed their shared disappointment at the lack of an actual fight to entertain them.

Amidst the discontent, your primary concern shifted to the current state of your group. Shadowheart, driven by determination, sought to complete Shar’s Gauntlet, a symbolic act to ascend and prove her loyalty to her goddess. While you couldn't help but worry about your friend, you understood her desire to seize this opportunity. As she faced the three challenges, ultimately finding the Spear of Night, you sensed a subtle shift in her demeanor.

Standing before the Nightsong, a woman bound to this realm with no apparent escape, you noticed a spark of questioning in Shadowheart's eyes, despite her determination. Confronting Thorm, you learned that releasing the Nightsong was the only way to weaken him and break his hold on immortality. The moment of decision arrived when Shadowheart, succumbing to her doubts, threw the spear over the edge, the mentioning of the forest and the wolves.

A surge of indescribable emotion coursed through you—perhaps pride or worry. It wasn't until Dame Aylin stepped forward, kneeling before Shadowheart, that the situation took a new turn. "Lay a hand of friendship upon me, and break my chains," she gently requested, her eyes meeting Shadowheart's before focusing on you. "Only when I am free can I aid you in taking down Ketheric Thorm." Shadowheart hesitated, glancing back at you for guidance.

Slowly nodding, she reached forward, resting a hand on Dame Aylin, breaking her chains once and for all. A portal opened behind you, and just before you could turn away, your eyes locked on Dame Aylin. Her armor began to form on her skin, and wings emitting a heavenly glow spread out behind her. Despite the look of recognition, all you received was a nod before she took off, leaving your group alone.

---

Now that Dame Aylin was free, things seemed to have accelerated much faster than anticipated. Drained and utterly tired, all you desired was to rest. Your head buzzed, and your ears rang, yet there you stood before Moonrise Towers, gearing up to face Ketheric Thorm. The urgency escalated with Dame Aylin's freedom, and a dark part of you wished she hadn't been released just so you could have some time to recuperate.

As you looked up at the towers, your body tensed when someone moved to stand beside you. A sense of relief washed over you as you saw Astarion. Smiling down, he shifted on his feet. "We're going to win, Darling. You have all of us ready to fight at your side. Don't overthink it," he said, shaking his head to silence any protests. "I can practically hear the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours," he added with a teasing grin. "But before we go in, can we talk? It's rather important, just in case we do meet our doom in there," he said softly.

Giving a half-hearted smile, you felt the exhaustion seeping out of you. Astarion took your hand, leading you aside as the rest of the group looked at you in question before starting their own conversations, providing you and Astarion with some privacy. "Are you alright?" you asked, scanning him for any injuries he might have sustained.

His expression changed, as if he were at war with himself. "Oh yes, I'm fine. I just... feel awful about something," he admitted. Confusion crept over you as you tried to recall any recent events that might explain his unease. It wasn't until you saw him shift nervously that you gave him a reassuring smile.

He continued, revealing a plan to seduce you, manipulate your feelings, and use you to defeat Cazador. The revelation left a bitter taste of betrayal in your mouth. You shifted, your posture rigid, waiting for an explanation. The truth unfolded—his plan fell apart because he couldn't resist falling for you.

His confession left you grappling with feelings of betrayal and hurt. "Were you even attracted to me? Or was that all a lie as well?" you asked, unable to contain the pain in your voice. His flinch confirmed the discomfort he felt.

Astarion, now uncomfortable and terrified, admitted, "Of course I was attracted to you. Look at you, for goodness’ sake! You’re a vision and so much more than that." He hesitated, expressing uncertainty about his feelings. "I just… I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what I want."

You shared your care for him, admitting your deep feelings. His face lit up at your words, and a soft 'really?' hung in the air. Without thinking, you moved forward, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle but secure hug. It felt like a silent promise of your genuine care. As he reciprocated the embrace, you sensed a change in him.

Astarion, being himself, smiled and cleared his throat. "You... You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?" he remarked, his eyes locking with yours, revealing hidden emotions. He let out a nervous laugh, pulling your attention back to him. "Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing or what comes next," he confessed, holding out his hand.

You stared at his hand before placing your palm on top of his. His cool skin covered yours as he drew you closer. "But I know that this? This is nice," he whispered.

There you stood, face flushed, realizing that, in a twisted way, Astarion truly loved you, and you loved him more than anything. Happiness mingled with worry, as he chose this moment to confess, fearing the possibility of not making it out alive. Yet, living in the now, you vowed to fight alongside him, grateful for the truth he finally shared.

Wyll cleared his throat, redirecting your attention to the group standing there, beaming at the two of you. It was evident they had overheard everything, and judging by the look on Shadowheart’s face, a secretly hopeless romantic, they had heard it all.

"Okay, you lovebirds, we have a Thorm on our side that we need to kill," Wyll declared, letting out a loud laugh at his own joke. However, the laughter died down when no one else joined in. An awkward silence hung in the air until you snorted, breaking the tension and sending the rest of your group into fits of laughter.

Even in the face of potential doom, moments like these made you grateful to have them by your side. Wyll looked around, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "Oh, I see how it is. It’s only funny when you put me down," he grumbled, prompting a genuine laugh from Lae’zel. The sound, rare and cherished, resonated among your group, appreciating the unexpected moment of joy.

---

The echoes of your laughter felt like a distant memory as you stood before Ketheric Thorm, anger seeping through you at the sight of him. The yells of your party echoed behind you as they fought against his soldiers, while he remained solely focused on you. Despite being mortal, he carried himself with immense confidence, as if convinced you could never truly defeat him. His smug demeanor fueled your desire to rip his head from his shoulders, yet something kept you rooted in the spot where you stood. Your attention shifted when something hot grazed your arm, prompting a pained yell as you gripped the wounded area. Thorm looked down at you with a smug smile, his eyes darkening.

"Who knew that you would come crawling to my doorstep? Why have you returned? Do you miss the throne in which you once sat?" he taunted, his words striking you like poison.

Although you had been here before, the realization that you used to occupy the throne he now warmed was a revelation. "I’m here to kill you," you declared, your hand warming with the blood seeping from your wounded arm. "I’m here to witness your downfall, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it," you spat, dropping your hand from your arm as you reached for the staff positioned on your back.

Thorm responded with an amused laugh, scanning the surroundings. "You? Kill me? I suppose you didn’t learn your lesson from the last time we had a falling out. Your father would be laughing at you now, seeing his perfect child turning her back on him," he seethed. Your eyes widened slightly before you shook your head. He was trying to toy with you, attempting to make you drop your guard, but you refused to let that happen.

You felt the fire spread through your palms before it traveled across the room toward Thorm. The lack of any reaction from him made you second-guess whether he was truly mortal now. Ascending the stairs, you stood face-to-face with Thorm, narrowing your eyes into a challenging glare. Swinging your weapon, the sound of steel clashing filled the air.

"You have the opportunity to surrender, Thorm. You don’t have to live like this," you declared, your voice stern as you pushed your weight into your weapon.

Thorm laughed and glared down at you. "You’ve become so weak. Your father has done nothing but brag about you, and yet here you are, offering me mercy. You are no daughter of his; no wonder you were cast out," he seethed, lifting his foot to kick you back. Tumbling, your weapon clashed against the ground beside you, and your eyes filled with fire. The urge to rip him apart from the inside out consumed you, and the taste of blood filled your mouth as your body became rigid.

The staff next to you vanished as a long sword with intricate designs slowly appeared in your hand. Standing slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his once more, and a smile settled onto his face. "There she is—the killer your father raised you to be," he said, rolling his shoulders back. A snarl escaped you as you raced forward, only to be thrown back as Dame Aylin slammed down into the area next to you and Thorm.

"Ketheric Thorm, your time is over. Here, you will fall by my hand," she declared as you stood up, your body shaking in rage. "My friend here has kept you busy enough; now it is my turn to aid her in this fight. You should’ve stayed dead," she snarled, leaping forward and landing a hit on Thorm, causing him to stumble back. Seizing the opportunity, you ran from beside her, slicing at him and making him groan in protest as your blade sank into his arm. The two of you fought in sync, one striking after another, knocking Thorm back with each blow.

Just when you thought things would finally be over, Thorm's soldiers stopped fighting, and the room grew quiet. Clutching your side to put pressure on the wound Thorm had given you moments prior, you spat the blood that filled your mouth onto the ground.

"You should’ve just let things rest. We wouldn’t have to go through all this fighting if you just let things remain the way they did," Thorm remarked, glancing toward the side of the roof. As if on cue, a large tentacle sprouted from the side of the building, knocking you off the platform. Landing on the ground a few feet away from Shadowheart, you struggled to suck in the air that was knocked out of your lungs. Helpless, you watched Dame Aylin try her best to fight the tentacle before being wrapped up and taken under the tower.

Shadowheart dropped to her knees beside you, holding a vial up to your lips. "Drink this; you’re in no shape to move," she said, her eyes scanning your body, taking in every wound. "Gods, Tav, you’re going to overwork yourself like this. We can take Thorm while you rest," she suggested gently, attempting to tend to your wounds. Pushing her hand away, you shook your head before sitting up, finally able to catch your breath.

"No, I need to take him down. I won’t leave you guys to fight alone," you grunted, wincing at just how sore your entire body was. Muffling the whimper that left your mouth, you stood before hobbling over towards the hole left in one of the pillars. The others walked up behind you, peering down from beside you. Looking at the others, you nodded before jumping down into the hole, listening as they followed behind you.

---

The path to find Thorm once again was long and grueling as you made your way through the mind-flayer colony. Along the way, you enlisted the help of a small brain that you had saved on the ship when you were first kidnapped. Now, you stood before the door separating you from Thorm. Upon your entrance, you noticed two other individuals with him—the same ones from your visions, but something about them seemed familiar. A chill ran through your bones when you heard her name: Orin. Hearing that name sent waves of anger through you, and you could even taste a small hint of betrayal as you looked at her. Something snapped you from your trance when you noticed Gale step forward. You had completely forgotten that he promised to carry out Mystra’s request, and the anger towards the goddess filled you once more.

“Whatever you are thinking of doing, Gale, it’s not worth it,” you said, meeting his gaze. He looked determined, and the sight broke your heart. “I won’t let you blow yourself up. We can find another way to please her or even save you, but ending your life like this isn’t worth it.” Part of you couldn't figure out why you were determined to save Gale, but the other knew that you needed him there. He was a friend and someone you knew how to talk to, seeking comfort when you weren’t sure how to open up to Astarion.

Astarion stepped up next to you and brushed your fingers with his before looking at Gale. “For once, I agree with our Darling leader here. We can’t afford to lose you just yet. You can blow yourself up another time, but that time isn’t now,” he said, meeting Gale’s eyes with determination.

Gale sighed and nodded as he looked at his two friends—one who was nothing but worried about him and the other begging him, in the most twisted way, to stay alive. “Alright, you’re right. Maybe this isn’t my time to go just yet. We have other opportunities for me to blow myself up. I’ll stay and fight beside you, and I promise to give it my all,” he said, smiling as your body relaxed, and relief filled your worn-down body.

As you stepped forward, Thorm met your gaze, his eyes hardening. "I see you all made it here alive—a shame, truly. I never wanted to hurt you, and I certainly never wanted to kill you. You all had so much to live for," he said, pity filling his voice. Your mind raced as you thought back to the letters you found in the tower. The letters from his wife and daughter gave you a chance at an attempt to convince him.

"Thorm, you don’t need to do this. You could be with Melodia again; you can be with the one you love without consequences," you said softly, stepping forward and wincing as you raised your arms to hold up your hands. "She’s waiting for you to come back to her, and you can finally use this as a chance to see her again." The battle in his eyes was evident. Looking towards Gale, you signaled him to go free Dame Aylin from the hold Thorm had on her. Gale nodded in silent agreement before disappearing from the spot next to you.

If Thorm did see Gale, he paid him no mind. "The goddess wouldn’t allow that to happen, not with what I have done," he said quietly, almost as if he was thinking it over. "Selûne would never allow me to be with her, not after the things that I have done." You couldn’t help but hear the pain in his voice as he spoke. He truly wanted to be with her, and you could see that internal war happening in his head.

"But you can. You can show Selûne that you’re willing to give this all up and give yourself to her. You can show her that you’re willing to sacrifice power just to be with the one person that you truly love." You didn’t know why your voice wobbled or why it felt like you would cry, but then it hit you. You would give everything to be with Astarion; you would sacrifice yourself to see him if he had been taken from you. You would destroy the world or give yourself to a goddess just to see him one last time.

Thorm looked at you for a moment before nodding, and nothing but relief filled you. You weren’t sure if your body could take another fight right at this moment. “You’re right,” he said, “I can be with her, but I apologize for what happens next. I can’t stop it.” You froze at his words. What did he mean by those words? Before you could continue to think, Thorm threw himself over the edge into the green abyss.

Astarion scoffed as he looked at the others. “So you’re telling me all we had to do was convince him that he could see his wife, and he would just end any and all fighting for us? Why didn’t we do that sooner?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Just as he spoke his words, a rumble vibrated around them. Astarion opened his mouth to say something when a large skeletal hand reached up and slammed itself down in front of you, causing you to stumble back to avoid being smashed.

Another rumble sounded, but this time it sounded more like a groan. “I am the haunt of mausoleums, the god of graves and age,” a loud booming voice grumbled as a large figure started to emerge where Thorm had thrown himself. “Of dust and dusk. I am Myrkul, and you have slain my Chosen.” Your eyes widened in recognition. The god of death. You were about to go head-to-head with a god, and part of you just wanted to drop then and there. With your injuries, you had no idea if you would survive this. “But it is no matter, for I am Death. And I am not the end–I am a beginning,” it finished.

Beside you, you heard a gasp from Astarion and the others. “What in the nine hells is that thing?” he asked as you began to back away. The large skeletal figure reached out his hand, and a large scythe flew into his grasp. Sweat began to collect at your brow as the stinging in your side grew. You could taste the bile starting to rise in your throat, and the loss of blood started to catch up with you.

You didn’t miss how Shadowheart looked at you; she knew you were in pain, but you were relieved that the others were oblivious. Biting back a groan, you stood taller, letting your eyes focus on the being before you. “That is a god,” you grumbled, listening to Astarion let out a string of colorful words. Before you had any time to react, Myrkul swung his weapon down towards you, the tip of it catching your leg, causing you to let out a pained yell.

You weren’t sure if it was your yell that set them off or the sudden attack, but as you caught your balance, spells and arrows began to fly through the air toward Myrkul. The moment Dame Aylin was free of her confines, she let out a roar as she aimed to take down the god in front of you. Your head was spinning, and you felt as if the world would go black, but you kept pushing, determined to help your friends. Missiles shot from you, landing their mark as Myrkul let out a screech, swinging his weapons towards everyone. The fight felt as if it went on for hours, years even, before the sight of Astarion and Karlach were thrown off the raised area in which you were standing.

The sight of the lack of movement from Astarion sent a blinding rage through you. A loud and violent scream tore through you as panic filled your very being. You swung your weapon, landing hit after hit on the God of Death. It wasn’t until there was a loud screech from the god that you realized that he had fallen. The sight of Thorm now lying a few feet away from you put you in another blind rage. Stomping towards him, he looked up at you helplessly, fear filling his eyes at the sight of you. He was terrified of dying by your hand, but you paid no mind to the thought. Letting out another scream, you sunk your dagger into him, only to pull it from him and repeat the motions over and over. “This is your fault,” you seethe over and over, the blood coating your face in the process. The feeling of hands on your shoulders and a large body dragging you away had you kicking and screaming as you thrashed in their grip. “No, I need to send him back to where he came from, he doesn’t deserve to see her.” You scream, your eyes focused on the body before you.

A hand cups the back of your head as you’re spun around in the individual’s arms where they press your face to their broad chest. “He’ll get what’s coming to him, but you need to breathe, calm down.” Halsin. His low voice works to calm you as he massages his fingers into the back of your head just above where the now loose knot of your hair sits. You begin to feel your body relax as every ounce of rage leaves you and sobs begin to rack your body. “It’ll be alright, go to him, see if he’s okay,” Halsin whispers, slowly letting you go. You back away and welcome his touch as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, swiping away any tears you had. He looked at you like you were his daughter, and he worried just like any father would.

Nodding, your gaze falls on Astarion before you scramble over to him, falling to your knees. Grabbing his face in your hands, you caress his cold cheeks before shaking him. “Astarion, wake up,” you grumble, shaking him again. “Wake up, or I swear to the Nine Hells I’ll sell my soul to make Raphael bring you back just so I can kill you myself.” You whimpered, when there was no response you let your head fall to rest on his chest as you squeezed your eyes shut.

A hand moves and places itself on the back of your head before you feel his chest rattle with a cough. “Who knew you were such a romantic, Darling, threatening to take my life all over again.” Your body snaps up as he keeps his head on the back of your head before moving it to rest on your cheek, caressing the skin gently.

Smacking his chest, you let out a sniffle as your muscles and wounds scream in pain. “I thought you died,” you sob, looking away from him. His laugh sent a wave of relief through you as his hand took yours.

“I couldn’t leave you, not after threatening to have Raphael bring me back just so you can do the job yourself; that threat was more terrifying than the god we just faced.” He jokes, causing you to let out a breathless laugh as you lean into his touch. “I’m not going anywhere, my sweet, you’re stuck with me.” Nodding, you help him to his feet as you turn to the others.

“Let's get out of here; we deserve to celebrate, especially since we finally broke the shadow curse. A night of drinking and sleep sounds perfect right about now.” You say, watching as your group, no your family, smile and let out a loud yell of celebration with Dame Aylin as she leads the cheers. This was your family, and one you would fight thousands of gods for, even if it means losing yourself in the process.

A/N: She was a long one, but I do hope you guys enjoyed it. I will be turning this into a small series as we get to explore the events that have taken place throughout thier adventure.

[marketfreshfics]

Preview: Saturn of Ultra

cover photo: @newbienewness

A brief clip of an upcoming multi-chapter work titled Saturn of Ultra. Told over six parts, this AU explores a futuristic Hogwarts rebuilt after a massive catastrophe, the new threat to wizard-kind in the wake of such advancement, and an unlikely pairing that must work together to prevent history from repeating itself.

“This one’s mine,” Garreth nodded at the lineup of bikes, pointing out a sleek metal chassis fabricated for streamlined highway travel. His wand ignited the engine and it roared to life, a whir of gears and mechanicals in cooperation with their intended parts. He raised a brow towards his passenger for the evening. “Thoughts?”

“It’s no horse-drawn chariot,” She remarked with a huff, “looks a lot faster, for one thing.”

Pride pulled pink to the young wizard’s cheeks. “Oh yeah, it’s fast. Built it myself… ah, mostly that is. Prewett setup the drive train, he’d arse me if I didn’t give him proper credit.”

As Garreth donned a pair of leather gloves, she toed the crossroads where cobblestones intersected with the pulse of magnetic freeway, metaphoric contrasting of the star-crossed lovers lapsing different eras.

There was an obvious sense of unease in her jilted posture as she drew back and forth between the past and the present, teetering on the edge of time itself, caught between the comfort of the known and the irresistible pull of the unfamiliar.

“Hey, you don’t have to be afraid. I’d be a twat to put you in harm’s way ever again.” Garreth's voice slunk to that rich note where charisma cozied with comfort.

Still, she hesitated. “It just seems... so dangerous.” Her breathy laugh was tinted with the dim of apprehension.

Garreth stepped closer, letting the bike idle as he took her hand. The warmth of his palm already bled through the leather.

“Do you trust me?”

[guywrestlingaddiction]

That Wresting Moment: Turning the Tables on the Big Man - Rex Brody v Nick Milani (muscleboywrestling.com)

Sometimes things don't go according to the script and maybe, just maybe a plucky young twink can turn the tables a big hulking heel.  

Rex Brody v Nick Milani (muscleboywrestling.com)

SPOILER ALERT: I highly recommend viewing this match in its entirety before reading this post.

The Backstory

We open with a lithe Nick Milani stretching out in the center of the ring while a much larger Rex eyes him up from the sidelines.  "I love beating up the pretty boys," Rex barks out while entering the ring before grabbing said pretty boy.  

Those of us familiar with the classic Heel-Jobber setup can almost picture what comes next - a dominant brute will almost certainly conquer our hero... or will he? 

The Action

It follows the usual script with our Heel using his huge arms to over power and mercilessly beat our hero. 

There are points where Nick strikes back hard.  He throws that entire small frame of his against Rex to some effect, the problem is he's simply not enough to make a dent in all 210 pounds of muscle.  

Eventually it becomes clear that Rex is a bit too distracted to really take the advantage here and instead of quickly pummeling his opponent he savors and takes his time.  We'll find out that this is where Nick shines and leads us to our wrestling moment.  

The Moment 

Evolving from a classic Heel squash this match turns into an underdog match.  You'll cheer for Nick and boo Rex for his shear cruelty. All of Rex's 210 pounds of muscle is reduced to a quivering, shaking mess.   I'd like to think that Rex was ready to dominate this match but held back because little by little, Nick broke down his self control.  

So what have we learned today? If you can't out muscle a giant brute you can always control him through lust. In the end, while Rex might be the better wrestler, Nick is just too irresistible to handle and he flipped the jobber script around to play the heel.

[talulajones-stories]

“I think about maggots.” 

That is Caroline’s answer to how she keeps her blood thirst under control as she neatly labels notecards in her precise handwriting in front of empty glass decanters.

“And that works for everyone...the maggots?”  Elena pushes back, already trying to imagine the insects instead of what Damon said in the parking lot behind the Grill — after they had slipped out the restroom together, her holding his hand.  “It’s going to get harder to pretend, Elena.” It was loaded. It was the truth. And it could’ve meant anything.

When she got home and Stefan asked if she’d found Matt for a refill, she lied — said she drank from the source.

That earned her two raised eyebrows.

“Everyone,” Caroline says, warming blood bag after blood bag in the microwave. “It’s all about discipline. Like when Coach Stevens made us run three miles before executing with perfection, the hot girl dance mix.  You just have to know what you want in the end. And just like I wanted to win trophies for that mix, I know I don’t want to hurt people.”

Elena snorts, face scrunching. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Caroline glances up as she tears open the plastic tip of the first bag. “I don’t know,” she mutters, half to herself, stopping just short of pouring the rest into the decanter and chugging it. “I didn’t drink much today.”

This whole “blood tasting” setup had been a last-minute idea, spurred on after Caroline had held Elena’s hands after she confessed to vomiting up deer blood, and Caroline sat next to her and gently said she understood and added, “Sweetie, not every vampire is a Stefan,” But when Elena also told her that she couldn’t keep the blood bags down either, Caroline’s expression changed.

She got that look, then marched to the kitchen and barked for Elena to follow.

“Witches too?” Elena asks, eyes drawn to the blood sliding down the inside of the decanters. A flicker of desire and hope sparks in her chest. Maybe this experiment might actually work.

Caroline eyes her, treading carefully. “Is there someone in particular you’re struggling with?”

Elena gives her a look and sighs. “I heard you all have the same problem with her.”

Caroline’s cheeks flush. She opens her mouth, then closes it. Starts again, measuring her words. “She is... hard.”

“To resist?” Elena asks, before she can stop herself.

Caroline cuts her a look. Like she’s afraid to go any further. But then she breathes out a soft, reluctant yes. It tells Elena the Salvatores weren’t lying.

Caroline then gives Elena a pained smile. “She smells like cotton candy and Skittles. And, weirdly, like my stuffed unicorn from when I was six. But sometimes, if I’m not careful, I’ll get a whiff of her and I just want...” The blonde stops herself. Grimaces. “Okay, ew. I shouldn’t have started that sentence.”

And Elena is about to burst, feeling like Caroline might get it, might really get how wrong it is to feel this way about Bonnie. “No, keep going.” Elena urges, catching for a moment that same crack, that same unraveling in Caroline, that was missing in the Salvatores when they discussed Bonnie.

Maybe it came with all the years of being around witches.

“I need to have this talk. Because Bonnie is apparently irresistible to all of us.”

 “You’re not wrong,” Caroline starts, thoughtful for a moment, before adding, more firmly, “But it’s just chemical, Elena. And with practice, it’ll fade. Trust me.” Her solemn face then morphs into that cheer captain brightness as she hands Elena her first sample from the O negative pitcher.

Elena eyes the cup, reluctantly taking it from Caroline, who pipes, that she had a total of six different ones for her to try if this one wasn’t a fit.

Elena gulps it back. And it’s hot mayonnaise down her throat. She gags, aiming for the kitchen sink.

Most of it makes it, but some splatters across the counter.

“I’m so sorry, Caroline.”

Caroline is more annoyed than surprised as she grabs the Clorox from under the sink and a handful of paper towels. “You can’t be the only vampire in history who cannot drink from a blood bag.”

Elena shakes her head. “Damon called it,” she says, throwing her hands up like, what was she gonna do? “He’s like some vampire savant. He knew I wouldn’t be able to drink the deer. He said the blood bags would taste like trash. And who knows what else he’s going to tell me that goes directly against what Stefan is teaching me.”

Caroline listens intently, cleaning more than just Elena’s mess, then stops. “But wait—Damon drinks from blood bags all the time?” she asks, more to herself. Then she puts a hand on her hip. “And what else is he telling you?”

Elena feels the back of her neck warm, a slow heat spreading in her chest.

“Well… he says I’m good to go back to school next week, even though I haven’t exactly gotten my eating habits under control. He told me, “‘give the horny teenagers of Mystic Falls a scare.’”

She can still hear the way he said it, casual and smug, right before he sauntered out of the living room where she was curled under Stefan. Hiding from the world. Hiding from the desire to kill.

“But Stefan thinks I should wait a little longer. Learn how to be around humans gradually. And honestly… I kind of agree with Stefan.”

Caroline groans.

“Strangely, I agree with Damon.” She shakes her head in disbelief and raises a hand. “Please don’t tell him I said that.”

Then she opens her arms wide. “Come here.”

Elena slumps into them, letting herself rest in the warmth of her friend’s embrace.

“I know it’s hard,” Caroline murmurs against her shoulder, “but don’t worry. We’ll get Matt to donate some blood before first period. I’ll be there to supervise.”

Elena nods silently, grateful to have a Caroline in her life.

Then the bubbly blonde releases her from the bear hug and beams. “And tonight, we’ll get you some exposure therapy to those horny teenagers.”

Elena blinks.

Caroline grins wider. “There’s a party.”

[blrecs]

08/50: bizarre love triangles ("secondo piatto," "close the last door")

I used to joke that every bl generation gets the "Banana Fish," and specifically the Yut Lung character, they deserve. Perhaps every generation also gets their own version of "Close the Last Door." It's an irresistible setup: the main character has an unrequited crush on his straight best friend, makes a mess of himself at the straight best friend's wedding, drunkenly hooks up with another (male) wedding guest who is in love with the bride, stuff happens, happy ending as the two leads learn to move on and love each other. In "Close the Last Door," it is Nagai who is in love with his younger, bubbly coworker Saitou. After the wedding, he finds himself ranting to Honda, who reveals that he was the bride's ex. They get drunk, sleep together, and begin a friends with benefits relationship that is complicated when the bride elopes with another man just one day into the honeymoon. In "Secondo Piatto," Hyunwook is forced to grapple with his childhood friend Heesun marrying his police academy classmate Minseok. At the wedding, he discovers that Minseok's childhood friend Wonyoung has been in love with Minseok this whole time, and, well, they get drunk, sleep together, and begin a friends with benefits relationship.

The similarities in premise (if not plot) between the two series makes it easy to pick out what could be genre (manga vs manhwa) or generational (early 2000s vs 2020) differences. "Close the Last Door" is guilty of many of the critiques one could lob against early 2000s bl as a genre. The characters deny being gay (or bisexual) and, if pressed, would likely describe themselves as only gay for each other (or, in the case of main character Nagai, gay for Saitou and a victim to a lethal combination of Honda and alcohol). The character designs are generic, the seme dark-haired and the uke blond (though not frail or weepy or feminine). Much sex happens while the two mains are intoxicated, and there is a sexual assault scene (but not between Nagai and Honda!). Nagai and Honda manage to bumble into pseudo-marriage and cohabitation without so much as a "what are we?" conversation, and even a year into their relationship are still unable to be honest about their feelings for each other to each other, much less to other people.  The two women in the series (Saitou's ex-wife Remi and Nagai's ex-girlfriend Ryoko) are reduced to catalysts for the main (gay) romance, and Ryoko in particular can come off like a harpy (though Yamada Yugi can't help but imbue her with a feisty charm, the curse of a good author). There is even a spin-off featuring an incestuous relationship (!) between Honda's two older brothers, who appear in "Close the Last Door" volume 2 as confusing side characters if you did not read their dedicated volume.

In contrast, "Secondo Piatto" is enlightened, woke even, at least by 2025 standards. Wonyoung is openly gay and identifies as such, even to Minseok. Hyunwook begins the story self-conceptualizing as straight, but tries hard to grapple with his sexuality when he begins sleeping with Wonyoung regularly. The pressures of homophobia feature in "Secondo Piatto"; it is a story that definitely believes gay people are real, as opposed to just a function of the plot requiring two men to fall in love. Where Ryoko cannot move on from Nagai and also has an interrupted tryst with Honda, Heesun is steadfastly into Minseok and is perfectly correct about why she never married Hyunwook. She is a blameless, charming character whom you could hold nothing against. Hyunwook and Wonyoung talk openly about their relationship and negotiate their boundaries, while Nagai and Honda are petty, scrappy, and constantly allowing Saitou to upturn the fragile balance of their relationship. Hyunwook gets the "fully smitten top who would do anything for his partner" treatment. His yearning is explicit, emotionally healthy, and mature, full of demonstrations of his commitment to Wonyoung and his explicit, emotionally healthy expectations for what a relationship with him would look like. Honda, on the other hand, tolerates Nagai's antics until they both reach a breaking point, after which he has a mental breakdown where he can barely express his feelings, gets embarrassed, and then gives Nagai a blowjob before sending Nagai back to deal with Saitou. I am not joking when I say this is how "Close the Last Door" volume one ends.

I grew up in a world where there weren't many bl dramas or movies and the biggest gay ships were largely noncanonical (even, as in the case of Supernatural, the noncanonical status became more and more strained). We called shipping two male characters in a noncanonical gay relationship "slash." This allowed us to differentiate it from yaoi or shounen-ai or boys' love/BL, where one could still ship a noncanonical relationship (the losing side of a love triangle, for example) but it would never be dismissed out of hand as impossible simply for being gay. Even after all these years, I am used to, even more comfortable, living in a space where I read canon against itself, where my pairing fights the story somehow, where every love story is by definition a struggle. I chafe at being handed an easy happy ending, even if I know that's the bargain I struck with the author when starting a story. I know, I know—I should probably be in therapy.

It is easy to see why Hyunwook and Wonyoung would fall for each other and end up together in "Secondo Piatto." Their romance is so very legible to the reader, the main takeaway of the story. Wonyoung yearns to be transformed into someone completely new who will fall in love with a completely new stranger, and together they will become two strangers who are in love with each other and have absolutely nothing to do with Wonyoung's past and Minseok. But love is honest, love is kind. Love means knowing and accepting the other for who they are, which is what Hyunwook offers. He sees Wonyoung, all of Wonyoung, and doesn't turn away. Minseok could never see Wonyoung as he really was—but then again, Wonyoung never let him. As for Hyunwook, he has to learn that love is something to fight for, instead of an inevitable reward you are given for standing silently by. You can learn lessons on healthy communication from "Secondo Piatto." It is a good manual for what to want in a relationship.

But what can we say about Honda and Nagai and "Close the Last Door?" They truly feel like two people who happened into a circumstance where they needed each other, who never dig themselves out of that hole. In a way, "Close the Last Door" has the air of the slash fanfic. You could easily see a world where there was some main canon featuring Saitou and his wife, and Yamada Yugi got it in her head to ship two side characters (Saitou's doting coworker and his wife's ex-boyfriend) and ended up writing a whole doujinshi about how they get together. They butt heads, they struggle, they seem to be fighting against the genre's expectation that they should end up together. Their happy ending is not the point, because it was never the plot. It is so besides the point that Yamada Yugi even keeps Saitou around for much, much longer than you would expect. After all, he has main character energy. By volume two, Saitou is fully a third wheel in the Nagai-Honda household, to the point where Yamada even pulls out the classic "if the two of us were dangling off a cliff, who would you save?" test. (The answer will delight you, if you're a sicko like me.)

Which is to say, I love "Close the Last Door." Don't get me wrong; I liked "Secondo Piatto" a lot too! The strength of Hyunwook and Wonyoung's interactions, their open communication with each other even in uncomfortable situations, made it a refreshing read, and there are some moments of such sharp writing about the weight of longing and codependency that I took many, many screenshots. But "Close the Last Door" is so messy, so human, so full of bad decisions and characters tolerating bad behavior from each other. Honda and Nagai argue and have sex and sometimes have sex while arguing and it makes me clap like a seal every time. If "Secondo Piatto" is about drawing boundaries, "Close the Last Door" is about greed and not having to confront your choices. Nagai wants everything. He wants to have his cake (be in a relationship with Honda) and to eat it too (love and pamper his idol Saitou). He does not want to put other people's feelings first.  He doesn't want to have to choose, and above all, he doesn't want to admit to Saitou or Honda that he's chosen Honda.

This has always been Yamada Yugi's sweet spot: vivid, human characters who are messy and bad with their words, who never quite say "I love you" but who find ways to make themselves understood. In the world of Yamada Yugi, it is better, sometimes, to let things go unsaid. In Bonus Track 3 of "Close the Last Door" volume 2, Honda has to tell Nagai about his brothers. (This is literally Honda fulfilling his destiny of being a side character in another canon!) But through it all, he is vague and elliptical. "So they're really like that?" Nagai asks. "Probably, but I haven't confirmed it," Honda replies. His brothers' relationship is something Honda has never asked about, will never ask about, but fully understands. He begs Nagai to keep it a secret and act like he doesn't know.

In the conversation that follows, Nagai and Honda manage to say "I love you" over and over again, without actually saying anything of substance. And this is how the main story of "Close the Last Door" ends, with Nagai and Honda bickering and getting suckered into little jealousy games by Saitou and still bad at having an honest conversation with each other and still being so, so in love. Maybe that's toxic and a red flag in 2025. But "Close the Last Door" works for the same reason slash fanfic works, because its creator wrote a story just because she wanted to see these two particular characters in love. As Mary Oliver might say, you do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles to show you're a green flag or a world class yearner. Sometimes, it is enough to let these two characters love what they love, and that is each other.

"Close the Last Door" (and the spinoff "Open the Door to Your heart") was once upon a time licensed by DMP's imprint June. Some places still offer a way to buy the print versions. "Secondo Piatto" is available through Manta. I read the explicit version here.