#*jet goes roaring by*

[ichbinmeltdown]

This happened when my mom and I were waiting for the bus after an appointment

*Really loud train horn blares a few blocks away* What my brain impulsively told me to say: SHUT UP ASTROTRAIN!!!

[rootedinrevisions]

Since Forever

SUMMARY: After a harrowing near-death experience in the sky when a routine training exercise goes wrong, you and Jake are forced to confront the unspoken tension that's always simmered between you. With a crash landing and a moment that changes everything, the line between squadmates and something more begins to blur.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I'm sorry it's been like 3 weeks since you sent it in, but hopefully, it's worth the wait! Hope you enjoy it! xx

WARNINGS: Angst, Mutual Pining, Plane Crash (Smoke, Impact, Head Injury, Blood), Cussing

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The dry California air carried the hum of activity on the tarmac, the heat shimmering in waves off the asphalt as you stood in your flight suit, clipboard in hand. The roar of jets echoed in the background, a familiar symphony you’d grown accustomed to over the years. North Island was as bustling as ever, a mix of old faces and new ones prepping for the upcoming training exercises.

You were focused on your pre-flight checks, meticulously going over every detail on your clipboard. Attention to detail had always been your strong suit, something that had earned you respect in the cockpit and plenty of snide comments from one particular squad mate.

“Still babysitting that clipboard, Ace?”

You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Jake “Hangman” Seresin’s voice was unmistakable—smooth, cocky, and always laced with that infuriating Texan drawl.

“Still babysitting your ego, Bagman?” you shot back without missing a beat, your eyes remaining on your checklist.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him saunter closer, his helmet tucked under one arm, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Jake had a way of walking that oozed confidence, like he owned every space he entered. It was both maddening and, if you were honest with yourself, slightly impressive.

“Touché,��� he drawled, stopping a few feet away. “But seriously, Ace, you’ve been doing this long enough to know the damn thing’s not going to sprout wings and fly off without you.”

You finally glanced up, arching a brow at him. “Says the guy who spent fifteen minutes arguing with the crew chief yesterday about the ‘perfect’ alignment of his seat harness.”

“That’s called being thorough,” Jake replied, unfazed. “You should try it sometime.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to your jet. “Is there something you actually need, or are you just here to be a pain in my ass?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Can’t a guy check in on his favorite squad mate?”

“Favorite?” you echoed, snorting. “You must be losing your touch, Hangman. Last time I checked, I was the one gunning for top marks on this run.”

“That’s what makes you my favorite,” he said smoothly, his tone dropping just enough to make your stomach do a small, unwelcome flip.

You hated how he could do that—how he could make the simplest comment sound like it was loaded with a thousand unspoken things. It was part of the tension that had simmered between you two for years, a strange, undefined thing neither of you had ever acknowledged out loud.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” you replied, setting your clipboard down. “I’ve got a jet to fly, and you’ve got an ego to stroke somewhere else.”

Jake tilted his head, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful, Ace. One of these days, that sharp tongue of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes at him as you adjusted the strap on your helmet. “And one of these days, Seresin, you’re going to realize that not everyone is impressed by your southern charm.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a standoff, the air crackling with the kind of tension that was all too familiar between the two of you. Then Jake stepped back, a soft chuckle escaping him as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Fair enough,” he said, his grin still firmly in place. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He turned and started walking toward his jet, his gait as cocky as ever. You shook your head, exhaling slowly as you tried to refocus on the task at hand.

Damn him.

Even now, years after you’d first met, Jake Seresin still had the ability to get under your skin in a way no one else could. And despite the irritation bubbling in your chest, you couldn’t entirely shake the small, secret part of you that liked it.

* * * *

The sky was a perfect blue—no clouds, just an endless expanse stretching out in front of you. It was supposed to be a simple exercise, just another day in the air, but your instincts had been nagging at you all morning. Something felt off.

You were flying at full throttle, running through the mission parameters, your fingers lightly grazing the controls as you focused on the task at hand. In the distance, you could see Jake’s jet—smooth and precise, cutting through the air just like always. You kept your distance, the tension between you two still palpable, even miles above the earth.

Then, without warning, the engine sputtered.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, eyes flicking to the gauges. The warning lights blinked red, and your stomach dropped like a stone. The engine—your primary engine—locked up.

“Ace, you copy?” The crackling voice of your Captain came through your comms, sharp and urgent. “What’s your status?”

You took a steadying breath, trying to keep your pulse under control. The jet was starting to lose altitude, slowly at first, but it wasn’t going to be slow for long.

“Engine’s locked,” you said, voice tight. You glanced down at your instruments again, hoping for a miracle. “I’m losing power. Going down.”

 Jake’s voice exploded through your earpiece. “Don’t do anything stupid, Ace. You hear me? Eject if you have to!”

The words felt like a slap in the face. He was always the first one to play the hero, always telling you what to do like you were some rookie.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Seresin,” you snapped, teeth gritting as you struggled to maintain control. You banked hard to the left, trying to level out, but the jet was sluggish—too sluggish. It was dropping faster now, and the ground was coming up at you way too quickly. “I’m not ejecting.”

“I said—” Jake’s voice broke through again, but you could already hear the Captain cutting him off.

“Ace, listen to me. You have two options right now,” the Captain said, his tone firm, no room for negotiation. “Eject, or try to bring her in. But you don’t have much altitude left.”

You had a split second to make a choice. The sky was shrinking, the earth creeping closer with every heartbeat. Your mind raced—ejecting would be easy, sure. But it would cost you the plane, and it would mean another mission down the drain. And there was always that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you had to rely on someone else to pull you from the wreckage.

You focused, blocking out the voices in your comms, focusing on the controls, on what you could do.

You had one good engine. It wasn’t ideal, but you had just enough altitude to make a hard landing. If you timed it right.

“I’m landing this bird,” you said, your voice steely with determination. You could feel the sweat building under your helmet, your pulse pounding in your ears, but your hands were steady. “I’ve got this.”

“Ace!” Jake’s voice came again, a mix of frustration and panic threading through his words. “You don’t have the altitude—”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you cut him off, your jaw clenched as you took a deep breath. The ground was closing in fast now, the harsh reality of the situation crashing over you. You had seconds to decide how you were going to do this. You could almost hear your heartbeat in your throat as you worked the throttle, pushing the remaining engine to its limits.

“Ace, eject now!” Jake was practically shouting now, but you didn’t have the time to argue. You were already lining up the rough terrain, calculating the risks in your head. You’d done it before—this was just another challenge to overcome. “If you crash—”

“I said I’ve got this!” you growled, pushing the throttle forward and making a last-ditch effort to pull the jet back into some semblance of control.

The sound of the engine was sickening now, almost wheezing, but it was still holding on. You could feel the nose of the plane dip, and you knew it was time. There was no turning back now.

You aimed for the small strip of flat ground, mentally calculating the distance between you and the crash site, praying to every deity that you could pull this off.

The jet dropped faster.

Your stomach lurched.

You could hear the voices of your team—your Captain—fading in the background, their instructions turning into static. All you could hear now was the roar of the engine, your breath, and the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

And then the wheels hit the earth. It was harder than you expected. The jet groaned under the strain, the fuselage screeching as you fought for control. The wheels bounced once, twice, and the jet jerked to the side as you fought the controls with everything you had left. The impact was brutal. You slammed into the seat, the world going black for a split second before your mind jolted back into reality.

Your head throbbed, a sharp pain searing behind your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but everything felt off. Dizzy. The pain was sharp, but you couldn’t focus on it now.

Your hands still gripped the controls like you were trying to hold the whole world together. You could feel the tension in your neck, the tremor in your hands.

And then, the voice you hadn’t realized you were waiting for came through your comms, strained and desperate:

“Ace, talk to me. Are you okay?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to find your bearings. The crash had knocked the wind out of you, but you had to focus. You had to focus.

“I’m... fine,” you gritted out. Your vision was blurry, your head swimming, but you needed to keep it together. “I just need to—”

The world went black for a few moments. The crash had been rough, everything moving too fast, and then you were suddenly weightless, disoriented, and struggling to remember how you had even ended up in this situation. The impact had jarred you, rattling your body so hard you weren’t sure which way was up. The cockpit was filled with smoke, the once-pristine view of the sky now replaced by the harsh, metallic scent of burning fuel.

You could hear the sounds of the control tower in your headset, distant voices now muffled and indistinct. Your head throbbed, dizziness clouding your thoughts. Something was wrong—you were wrong—but the panic started to subside as your mind tried to latch onto something, anything familiar.

The sound of a plane's engines revving pierced the air, and that was when you realized you weren’t alone anymore. Jake's voice cut through the haze.

"Stay with me, Ace, I’m almost there" he barked, his tone uncharacteristically sharp, the usual cocky bravado gone. His voice was full of urgency, tight with a level of fear you hadn’t expected to hear.

You managed to open your eyes, the world around you spinning, but through the haze, you saw his plane descending in the distance—he was landing, landing without permission. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing he was disregarding protocol to get to you.

Within seconds, Jake's jet was on the ground, its wheels screeching as it touched down, and he was already sprinting toward you. There was no waiting for rescue teams, no giving orders. It was just him, and you.

Your chest was tight, your breath shallow, and for a brief moment, you wondered if it was all just a nightmare. Then, through the haze of your spinning mind, Jake’s face appeared—his eyes wide, his expression frantic as he reached the wreckage.

Without hesitation, he pulled open the hatch, the cockpit door groaning under the force. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t waste a second. He carefully pulled your helmet off of you. His eyes moving to the blood that was caused from the impact. His hands then started working to undo your harness, fingers shaking as he snapped the straps free, pulling you into his arms before you could even comprehend what was happening.

His breath was frantic, like he was holding it in, waiting for some kind of confirmation that you were really there. That you were still alive. And in that moment, as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, the world started to stabilize. Your breath came in shaky gasps, your head pounding as the dizziness slowly began to fade.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from your brain. The weight of your body felt heavier than normal, your limbs still stiff from the crash. But it wasn’t just your body that felt like it was slowing down—it was your mind. Everything was racing too fast, the adrenaline still pushing you into action, but in Jake’s arms, there was a moment of stillness. A second where nothing mattered but the fact that you were safe.

"Don’t you ever do that again," Jake muttered, his voice trembling despite the tough exterior he always wore. His words hit you harder than any of the physical pain, and you felt a strange, overwhelming wave of emotion rush through you. It was as though all the walls you’d both built over the years had crumbled with one unspoken truth. Jake was scared, and in this moment, it wasn’t about flying, or missions, or protocols. It was about you.

You barely registered that you were leaning into him, your chest falling against his as you came back to yourself, your body reacting without thinking, your mind still spinning. His hands were gently running over your back, soothing you, grounding you, even though you could feel the anxiety still vibrating through him.

“J-Jake,” you stuttered.

"I'm here. I’ve got you." His words were a soft mantra, repeated over and over as if he needed to hear them as much as you did.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog. 

“I... I’m fine,” you said, your voice shaky as you pulled away slightly, lifting your head from his chest. But the moment you tried to step back, you felt his arms tighten, keeping you close. The intensity in his gaze was enough to make you stop moving entirely.

“No, you’re not fine,” he shot back, his voice low but full of conviction. His hands still rested on your back, holding you steady, like he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. He wasn’t just holding you. He was holding you like he was terrified of losing you.  “You scared the hell out of me, Ace.”

You swallowed, feeling a weight in your chest you hadn’t been prepared for. The vulnerability in his words was jarring. He had never let his guard down like this before. But there it was—raw, unfiltered concern.

The words stuck in your throat, but somehow you found yourself meeting his gaze, feeling the space between you two close, the tension palpable. 

"Since when did you ever care about me like that?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, more of a breathless thought than anything.

Jake froze, his hand still on your arm as he stared at you, his jaw tight, eyes searching yours. For a moment, the world felt suspended in that one breath between you two. He didn’t back away. Instead, his face softened, his expression caught between frustration and something deeper, something he wasn’t saying.

“Since fucking forever, you idiot,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion, almost a growl.

Jake stepped closer, his hand slipping from your arm to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the skin there in a rare, intimate gesture. The contact sent a jolt through you, and suddenly, nothing about this situation felt like just another close call. This felt like something else entirely. Something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“I thought I was gonna lose you today,” Jake murmured, his voice low, steady now but still thick with emotion. His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I can’t lose you, Ace. I don’t think I’d make it.”

The weight of his words landed heavily in your chest. The truth between you two was finally out, raw and real. You swallowed, trying to hold back the lump in your throat.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jake,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Not without you.”

Jake sighed and then asked you again, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice softer now. You still felt the ache in your head, the sharp sting in your chest, but it wasn’t nearly as important as the way Jake was looking at you now.

His hands slid down your back, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You could see his jaw clench, the words stuck somewhere between his teeth, and then he shook his head.

“Are you? You sure as hell didn’t look fine in that damn cockpit,” he muttered, his voice low and tight. “You could’ve—You’re the closest thing I’ve got to family out here, Ace," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I don’t know what I’d do without you." His words were a stark contrast to the cocky bravado he usually carried. This was real, and it was raw. "You don’t get to put me through that again, got it?"

You swallowed hard, your heart beating so fast it felt like it might explode in your chest. All the tension, all the unspoken things that had hung between you two for years, were now laid bare in the open. There was no hiding anymore. No pretending like you didn’t feel it, too.

“Jake…” you started, but the words wouldn’t come. 

Instead, you pulled him down into a kiss—soft at first, tentative, but it was as if something broke open between you. You felt the fear, the relief, the longing all tangled up in that moment. His lips moved against yours, a little desperate, a little shaky, but it was real.

When you pulled away, you were both breathing heavy, eyes still locked, both of you trying to process what had just happened.

“I don’t know what this is, Jake,” you whispered, your voice trembling just slightly.

“I don’t either,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair as if trying to pull himself together.

The words hung between you two, thick with meaning. You didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe you didn’t need to figure it out all at once.

You both stayed there, in the middle of the wreckage, still alive, still here—and for the first time in a long time, that was enough.

But then, all too soon, reality crashes back in.

A voice from outside the cockpit, sharp and professional, cuts through the intimacy of the moment like a splash of cold water.

“Hangman! Ace!” The search and rescue team has arrived, and the urgency in their voice snaps Jake out of his daze. “We need to get them out of there, now. Base is requesting immediate transport.”

Jake pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself. His hand still lingers on your waist, the warmth of it grounding you, but his eyes betray a hesitation—reluctance to let go of the moment.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here, Ace,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself as much as to you.

You nod, feeling your heart hammering again, but for a different reason now. His gaze softens, and there’s a flash of something unspoken between you—a promise, maybe. You can’t quite find the words for it, but you feel it deep in your bones.

The medics are waiting outside, and with one final, reluctant glance at you, Jake starts to lift you away from the cockpit. With his steady presence, and one arm around your waist, he helps you out of the cockpit.

“Easy now,” he murmurs as he guides you down, keeping you close to his chest as if he can’t bear to let you out of his arms just yet. “Take it slow.”

As soon as your feet touch the ground, the search and rescue team rushes to assist you, but Jake doesn't let go immediately. His fingers linger on your arm, his gaze flicking between you and the team as if he’s weighing something—like he’s not quite ready to leave you in someone else’s hands. He hesitates, looking like he wants to say something, but the team is already ushering you toward the waiting helicopter.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, voice firm.

“Jake, you don’t have to—” you start, but he interrupts, his tone brokering no argument.

“No. I’m staying with you.”

The hum of the helicopter’s blades is loud against your ears, but everything else seems muffled as you lie back on the stretcher, still reeling from the crash and the kiss that’s left a strange warmth in your chest. The medics are busy around you, but you can barely focus on them, your mind still racing, spinning from the events of the last few minutes.

The moment Jake climbs in beside you, his presence fills the space. He doesn't hesitate, sitting down next to your stretcher and taking your hand immediately, his fingers curling around yours like it's the only thing tethering him to reality. His face is tight with worry, but the way he holds your hand gives you a strange sense of comfort, something steady amidst the chaos.

The medics move quickly, checking your vitals and assessing your condition, but you can barely register it, your heart still thumping in your chest as the adrenaline from the crash ebbs away, leaving you exhausted. One of the medics starts to remove your flight suit, carefully peeling it off your shoulders to get a better look at any possible injuries, leaving you in nothing but a thin tank top that clings to your skin.

You feel exposed, vulnerable, as the cool air brushes against your skin. It’s an unsettling feeling, but Jake’s hand is still in yours, and when the medic starts to prod at your ribs, you squeeze his hand instinctively, a shiver running down your spine.

“Hey,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he leans in closer, his gaze never leaving you. “Focus on me, okay? Look at me.”

His voice is calm, reassuring, and even though you're still reeling, his presence is grounding you, pulling you out of the haze of discomfort and medical poking. His thumb rubs small circles over the back of your hand as the medic continues his examination, but Jake doesn't flinch. He doesn't pull away.

“Just look at me,,” Jake repeats, his voice steady. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

You manage to meet his eyes, and the intensity of his gaze sends a strange warmth flooding through you, cutting through the nervousness. In this moment, it’s just you and him, as if the rest of the world has faded away. You want to say something—tell him that you're okay, that you don’t need all this attention—but the words get lost in your throat.

Instead, you hold onto him tighter, needing him to keep you tethered, to keep you from feeling so exposed and raw.

The medic moves on to checking your head, and you wince at the touch, the sting of pain making you flinch. Jake immediately leans forward, his hand tightening around yours as he shifts closer.

“Easy, Ace,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. Focus on me. That’s it.”

You nod, trying to focus on his words, trying to push the discomfort and the questions swirling in your mind to the back of your head. His presence is like a lifeline. His voice is the one thing that makes you feel like you’re not alone in this. Like you're not just another casualty.

“Once they’re done poking and prodding, we’re going to get you something strong to drink,” Jake says softly, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile as his thumb brushes against your hand once more. “And I’m not talking about water. I’m thinking something a little more... celebratory.”

A part of you wants to laugh, but you're too exhausted, too wired from the whole experience. Still, there's a glimmer of something in Jake’s eyes now, something more than just the mission or the tension between you. There’s something new in his gaze, like a shift, and you feel it too—this unspoken understanding between you both that things are different now.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" you murmur, your voice hoarse from the adrenaline. "One minute, you're flying like a maniac, and the next, you're talking about taking me out for a drink like it's a... date."

Jake’s grin widens slightly, the kind of smile that only happens when he’s completely unguarded. “I’m thinking it’s more than a date, Ace,” he replies, squeezing your hand again. “Maybe it’s a... celebration. You know, to celebrate you not getting yourself killed.”

His tone is playful, but there’s something real behind it, a tenderness that wasn’t there before. Something that’s been waiting to come to the surface for a long time.

The helicopter ride drags on as the medics continue their work, but Jake stays by your side the entire time, never letting go of your hand, his steady presence like a quiet promise that he’s not going anywhere. His words from earlier echo in your mind, and you realize that, for the first time, you don’t feel alone. Not with him here. Not after everything you’ve been through.

When you finally land back at base, you’re still a little shaky, but the thought of what Jake said—of what he hinted at—keeps you grounded, keeps you looking forward to what comes next, whatever that is.

[kyunghwannie]

𝐆𝐀𝐌3 𝐁𝐎1

Myoui Mina x Male Reader

➤ Word count: 22012 (The member was won in a poll i made before, sorry for the later update)

➤ 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: Myoui Sharon Mina. Familiar name eh? Why not? ONCEs love the elegant penguin of TWICE. Is it for her beauty/visuals, her reserved yet adoring nature? Her sensuality on stage for her dances? To each their own. But for Mina, In many things, Gaming was one of her favourite hobbies. In one video released by JYPE, she had a video of playing her favourite game "Minecraft". 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 was empty and she turned to her side to see you finding out she had a rather intriguing attractive 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)

[revelboo]

It Had to Be You

Megatron x Reader-spark

• It’s amazing that something so precious can even be taken for granted. It’s just there, that sense of connection. Of Cybertron, a living Cybertron, being so much a part of Megatron that he never thought about it. Didn’t understand the extent. None of them had until it was too late.

• How long had it taken to feel that loss after Cybertron was dead, ravaged by their war? A spark-deep ache that echoed through them all with Cybertron’s fall. They'd all lost something they hadn't even realized could be lost. Cybertron wasn't just home- they needed that connection to their source to stabilize their sparks. Consigned to slowly fade away, growing accustomed to the loss. It becomes an old, familiar hurt. But it doesn't stop the fighting, it only fuels the hate.

• The battlefront has changed so many times. So many worlds suffering just because they arrive. He's lost track of all of the broken worlds. That first world, his, is the only one that mattered. And it had been stolen away by what had once been his friend. His brother. It didn't matter if the universe burns now. He can't stop, not when so much is already lost forever. What's one more world he won't remember?

• It’s so hot you can barely breathe, the wind whipping your hair into your face in little stinging lashes. Overhead, the sun bakes the desert, your truck, and the winding road. You'd never meant to end up here in the Midwest, but its where the money had run out in your bid for the coast. Staying hadn't been the plan, either. Everything had gone a bit sideways. You'd dreamed of the ocean, not scraggly nothingness that still somehow managed to catch on fire every year for sheer spite.

• The semitruck that overtakes you on the narrow ribbon of cracked asphalt is speeding, its engine roaring as it passes you in the left lane. In a hurry to be somewhere else. Something you could envy, but then another car, sleek and red is tearing by. And another. It's the weirdest convoy you've ever seen. A police car, several foreign cars, a couple of sports cars, an ambulance. All hellbent on keeping up with that big semi.

• You're speeding, but not nearly like they are. Maybe it's a shoot for a movie? But where are the cameras? Distracted in you musings, you still hear the screaming over your radio. A roaring shriek that makes your skin crawl, then there are jets tearing by overhead. You lean forward, staring up through the dusty windshield as the three fly by so low it’s frightening. It must be a movie. The nearest airbase is in the next state. Why hadn't they shut the road down to film, though? Unease spills through you as you ease up on the gas.

• They're running. It’s stop them now or they just go to ground again. Megatron’s played this game so many times on so many worlds and he’s so tired of it. Once Prime and his followers take alt modes, they disappear and then strike on their terms. Not this time. His Seekers tear after them, loosing a barrage of missiles as he draws near. There’s an almost giddy satisfaction in watching them swerve and dodge as he drops through the clouds, rotors humming. This form isn’t as cumbersome as his last, but it’s still new. It’s only when he releases his own missiles that he feels it.

• A flicker of something that feels like it should be familiar. Something he’s forgotten, but can almost recall. He sees it then, the truck swerving and bouncing off the road. Not an Autobot, but one of the squishy, little natives in the wrong place at the wrong time. Irrelevant, short-lived insects.

• Except, somehow he can feel their biofield pulsing in panic as they go careening. And his own spark constricts with something frightening and hungry. Responding. He’s aware of his Seekers engaging the Autobots. Transforming as he lands, he’s pulled toward that truck as it runs into the rocks and nearly goes sideways. There’s a battle around him, but it’s nothing compared to the storm inside him. His spark aches. The metal roof of the truck comes away under his fingers as he stares at the little creature struggling with some sort of restraint. It’s biofield. His spark. He knows this feeling even if he can’t put a servo on it. It hurts. He needs it even as it hurts so much.

• There’s a monster. You can’t breathe and there’s a monster staring down at you from where the roof of your truck’s cab had been five minutes ago. Clawing at the seatbelt, it finally comes loose and you throw yourself at the door handle. Away. That’s all you can think of. Getting away. Things are exploding, there’s smoke, and yelling. And monsters with glowing red eyes. You fall out of the truck when the door opens and that thing is reaching for you, huge fingers snagging you as you finally catch your breath just so you can scream.

Next

[callsigns-haze]

You knew? Part 1 of 3

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader! Callsign Ace

Chapter Summary: In a clever setup orchestrated by Hangman and Phoenix, Rooster and Ace, two colleagues with a tense relationship, unknowingly begin exchanging flirtatious emails under anonymous identities. As they bond over shared work frustrations, they eventually realize they’ve been emailing each other all along. The discovery leads to frustration and anger, particularly from Ace, who feels betrayed by Hangman’s manipulation. The revelation complicates their already strained relationship.

Warning: This story includes themes of manipulation and workplace tension, leading to conflicts and personal revelations.

The sun beat down on NAS North Island as jets roared across the sky, the rhythmic hum of engines echoing throughout the base. Inside the hangar, pilots and crew members moved with practiced ease, their chatter blending with the distant sound of drills.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw sat on a bench in the locker room, his flight suit unzipped to his waist. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his tousled hair, his thoughts far from the noise around him. Lately, a gnawing sense of loneliness had settled in, one he couldn't quite shake.

Just as he was lost in thought, the door swung open with a bang. Natasha "Phoenix" Trace rushed in, her boots skidding slightly on the polished floor. There was a determined look in her eyes, one Rooster knew all too well—she was on a mission.

"Rooster, got a minute?" she asked, barely giving him time to respond before thrusting a crumpled piece of paper into his hand.

He frowned, unfolding the note to reveal an email address scrawled in neat handwriting. Confusion crossed his face as he looked up at Phoenix. "What's this?"

"An email address," Phoenix replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I know you can be slow sometimes, but I didn’t think I’d have to explain that part."

Rooster rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. "I can see that. But whose?"

Phoenix crossed her arms, her expression turning serious. "Listen, I’ve seen you moping around here, and frankly, it’s pathetic. You're my best friend, and I hate seeing you like this. So, I talked to a friend of mine—a good one—and got her email for you. The only rule is, you can’t ask her name. And she won’t ask for yours either."

Rooster blinked, taken aback. "You’re setting me up? Since when did you become a matchmaker?"

"Since you started acting like a lovesick puppy," Phoenix shot back, her tone teasing but her eyes sincere. "Look, just email her. No expectations, no pressure. Just talk. See where it goes."

Rooster glanced down at the email again, something about the mystery of it intriguing him. He’d never done anything like this before, and maybe that was exactly why he should give it a try.

"Alright," he finally said, tucking the paper into his pocket. "I’ll do it. But if this turns out to be some weird prank, I’m coming after you."

Phoenix laughed, the tension easing between them. "Trust me, Rooster. You might actually thank me for this one. Just don’t try to figure out who she is. Let it happen."

As Rooster watched her leave, he felt a strange mix of anticipation and curiosity. Maybe this was what he needed after all—a chance to connect with someone new, without the weight of the past hanging over him.

Across the base, in another part of the hangar, Y/N Y/L/N, known by her call sign "Ace," was finishing up a maintenance check on her jet. She wiped the sweat from her brow, satisfied with the day's work, when Jake "Hangman" Seresin approached her, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"Hey, Ace," he called out, waving a folded piece of paper in the air as he jogged over.

She raised an eyebrow, instantly suspicious. "What’s with the look, Seresin?"

He handed her the paper with a flourish, like he was presenting her with a winning lottery ticket. "Just a little something I thought you might appreciate. It’s an email address."

Ace unfolded the paper, eyeing the email address written there. "Whose is it?"

"That’s the fun part," Hangman replied, leaning against the jet with a smirk. "I know you’ve been keeping to yourself lately, and I figured you could use a distraction. So, I talked to a buddy of mine and got you this. The only rule is, you can’t ask him who he is, and he can’t ask about you. Just email him. See what happens."

Ace looked at the email address again, her curiosity piqued despite herself. "You’re serious?"

"Dead serious," Hangman said, his voice uncharacteristically sincere. "No games, no strings. Just an honest chance to connect with someone. What do you say?"

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, folding the paper and slipping it into her pocket. "Alright, I’ll give it a shot. But if this is your idea of a joke, Seresin, I’m not going to be happy."

Hangman laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Scout’s honour, Ace. I think you’ll like this one."

As he walked away, Ace couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. The anonymity of it, the chance to talk to someone without the usual baggage—it was intriguing. Maybe, just maybe, this was the kind of surprise she needed.

---

The day was winding down as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the base. The roar of jet engines had softened, leaving a quieter hum in the air.

Ace, tired but satisfied with the day’s work, was making her way out of the hangar. She was eager to get home, her mind already turning over what she might say in that first email to the mysterious address Hangman had given her.

As she rounded a corner, focused more on her thoughts than on where she was going, she collided hard with someone coming the other way. The impact jolted her back to reality, and she instinctively gripped her helmet tighter to avoid dropping it.

"Watch where you’re going!" she snapped, the words flying out before she even registered who she’d bumped into.

Rooster, equally caught off guard, scowled as he steadied himself. "Maybe you should try not walking around with your head in the clouds," he shot back, his tone sharp.

Ace narrowed her eyes at him, irritation bubbling up immediately. Rooster was the last person she wanted to deal with right now. Their relationship had always been rocky—too much ego and too many unresolved tensions.

"You’re one to talk," she muttered, brushing past him. "I’m surprised you didn’t trip over your own ego on the way here."

Rooster rolled his eyes, not willing to let it slide. "Yeah, well, at least I don’t need to be constantly reminded which way is up."

They glared at each other for a moment longer before Ace turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Rooster behind with a bitter taste in his mouth. As she walked away, she could feel the tension still crackling in the air, but she refused to let it ruin her evening.

From across the hangar, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace and Jake "Hangman" Seresin watched the interaction unfold, exchanging worried glances. They had been casually chatting when they noticed their two targets—Ace and Rooster—heading straight for each other. Now, as they observed the icy exchange, Phoenix let out a sigh.

"Well, that went about as well as a mid-air collision," she murmured, shaking her head.

Hangman chuckled nervously, though his usual confidence was tinged with doubt. "Yeah, I’m starting to think this might have been a bad idea. They can barely be in the same room without biting each other’s heads off."

Phoenix crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Maybe… or maybe this is exactly what they need. You know how it is—sometimes the people who push each other’s buttons the most are the ones who end up surprising you."

Hangman shrugged, though he still looked uncertain. "I hope you’re right, because if this backfires, we’re both going to hear about it for the rest of our lives."

Phoenix smirked, her confidence returning. "Trust me, Hangman. We’ve seen stranger things happen around here."

-

Ace slid into the driver’s seat of her car, tossing her helmet onto the passenger seat with a frustrated huff. The encounter with Rooster still lingered in her mind, but she wasn’t going to let it bother her. Not tonight.

She pulled out the crumpled piece of paper with the email address, staring at it for a moment before finally unlocking her phone. With a deep breath, she opened a new message and began typing, her fingers moving more quickly as she decided what to say.

Hey there, she started, keeping it simple. I’m not sure how this whole thing is supposed to work, but I guess we’re both in the same boat. So, here’s to whatever comes next.

She hesitated for a moment, then hit send before she could second-guess herself. Leaning back in her seat, she let out a slow breath, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nerves.

-

Back at his apartment, Rooster had just kicked off his boots and was settling in when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his eyebrows lifting in surprise when he saw a new email notification.

Curious, he opened it and read the message, a grin slowly spreading across his face. The casual tone, the uncertainty—it was refreshing. Whoever this person was, they weren’t overthinking it, and he liked that.

Hey yourself, he typed back, his mood lightening as he responded. I’m not sure how this is supposed to go either, but I’m game to find out. Let’s see where this takes us.

He hit send, feeling a flicker of excitement. There was something fun about the anonymity of it all—no names, no faces, just two people connecting through words.

As he leaned back, waiting to see if they’d reply, he had no idea that the person on the other end was the very same pilot he’d just butted heads with. And for now, maybe that was for the best.

-

ACE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Ace sat on her couch, feet tucked underneath her as she scrolled through her emails. The mystery contact had quickly become the highlight of her evening, a welcome distraction from the routine of her day. She opened his latest email with a sense of anticipation.

Hey yourself, it began. I’m not sure how this is supposed to go either, but I’m game to find out. Let’s see where this takes us.

She couldn’t help but smile. There was something refreshing about this—no expectations, no judgments, just a conversation. She quickly typed a response.

Well, I guess we’re both in uncharted territory here. So, let’s start simple—how was your day?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rooster kicked back on his couch, his phone in hand. The quiet of his apartment felt more bearable with the company of his mystery emailer. When her reply came through, he read it with a growing interest.

Pretty standard—flew a few maneuvers, avoided crashing into anyone, and had a less-than-pleasant encounter with someone who seems to think they own the sky. You?

He chuckled to himself before typing back.

Sounds like a typical day in our line of work. As for me, I spent most of my day fixing things up and trying not to lose my patience with a certain someone who seems to thrive on pushing my buttons.

ACE’S APARTMENT - SAME NIGHT

Ace read his email and felt a spark of curiosity. The way he talked about his day sounded oddly familiar, like they might have more in common than she’d initially thought. She responded with a hint of playfulness.

Fixing things up? Sounds like we might work in the same field. My day involved some pretty similar frustrations—mostly with equipment, though a few people came close. What’s the most interesting part of your job?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - SAME NIGHT

Rooster raised an eyebrow as he read her reply. Was it possible they worked in the same industry? The thought intrigued him, but he decided to keep it vague.

The most interesting part? Probably the high-stakes situations. There’s nothing quite like the rush you get when everything’s on the line. What about you?

ACE’S APARTMENT - LATER THAT NIGHT

Ace’s curiosity deepened. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they might be closer in their professional lives than either of them realized. She replied with a smile.

I’d have to agree with that. There’s something addictive about the adrenaline, the way you have to think on your feet. It’s not for everyone, but it definitely keeps things interesting. Ever have a moment where you thought, ‘This is it, this is why I do this’?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - LATER THAT NIGHT

Rooster felt a connection growing with this mystery person. The way she described the job, the adrenaline—it all resonated with him.

Definitely. There’ve been a few moments where it all comes together, and you remember why you signed up in the first place. It’s those moments that make the tough days worth it. Sounds like you know exactly what I mean.

ACE’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Ace smiled at the screen. There was an undeniable connection between them, something that went beyond the surface.

I do. It’s the reason we keep coming back, isn’t it? The rush, the challenge. So, what’s your favorite part of the day—when you’re up there, or when you’re down here figuring it all out?

She hit send, the thrill of the conversation growing with each exchange.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Rooster read her email, feeling that same thrill. It was like they were dancing around the details, both aware they were probably in the same line of work, but neither willing to say too much.

Honestly? It’s a bit of both. I love the freedom and the rush of being up there, but there’s something satisfying about the process of figuring things out down here too. You?

ACE’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Ace’s heart raced as she typed her response, the anonymity of their conversation adding to the excitement.

Same here. There’s a balance to it that I love. The thrill of being in the thick of it, and the quiet satisfaction of making sure everything runs smoothly when it’s all over. I guess you could say it’s a perfect mix of chaos and control.

She sent the message, feeling more connected to this stranger than she had to anyone in a long time.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Rooster read her reply, a grin spreading across his face. There was no denying it now—they were definitely in the same field. He wondered if they’d ever crossed paths without even knowing it.

Couldn’t have said it better myself. There’s something about that mix that’s just right. Maybe one day we’ll get the chance to compare notes in person—who knows?

He sent the email, his curiosity about her growing with every word.

ACE’S APARTMENT - EARLY MORNING

Ace’s pulse quickened as she read his last message. The thought of meeting him, of finding out who he was, sent a thrill through her.

Maybe we will. It’s a small world, after all. In the meantime, I’m enjoying getting to know you through these little windows into each other’s lives. Who knew this would turn out to be so fun?

She sent the message, already eager to see what he’d say next.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EARLY MORNING

Rooster leaned back, thinking about how surreal this all was. There was something almost magical about connecting with someone this way, without even knowing their name.

I have to admit, I’m enjoying it too. There’s something about the mystery that makes it all the more interesting. Who knows where this might lead?

He sent the message, his mind racing with possibilities. The night had turned out far better than he could have imagined.

---

The sun had barely risen over the base, casting a soft, golden light across the tarmac. Jets stood in neat rows, their sleek forms gleaming under the morning sun. The day was just beginning, but already there was a sense of energy in the air—a mix of anticipation and routine that every pilot knew well.

Ace arrived at the hangar, her steps quick and determined. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, especially not after the strange, unexpected thrill of the email exchange last night. She had stayed up far too late, caught up in the banter with her mystery contact, and now she was paying for it. Her mind was still partially back in that conversation, trying to piece together who the person on the other end might be.

But her focus snapped back to the present the moment she saw him.

Bradshaw was already there, leaning casually against one of the jets with that familiar, infuriating smirk on his face. He was chatting with a couple of other pilots, his easy laughter carrying across the hangar. As soon as he noticed her, the smirk widened.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," Rooster called out, his voice dripping with mock surprise.

Ace rolled her eyes, her irritation flaring instantly. "Some of us don’t need to parade around like peacocks just to get attention, Rooster."

He pushed off from the jet and strolled toward her, his hands in his pockets. "Oh, I don’t know, Ace. A little flair never hurt anyone. But I guess subtlety isn’t really your style, is it?"

She glared at him, crossing her arms. "You wouldn’t know subtlety if it flew up and hit you in the face."

Rooster chuckled, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Maybe not, but at least I don’t go around with a permanent chip on my shoulder. Lighten up, Ace. Not everything has to be a competition."

She stepped closer, refusing to back down. "When you’re around, everything is a competition. Or maybe you just don’t like losing."

Rooster’s eyes flashed with a mix of amusement and challenge. "You think I’m losing? That’s cute. Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night."

Ace’s jaw clenched, her irritation now fully transformed into a burning anger. "You know what, Rooster? One of these days, that ego of yours is going to get you in trouble."

He shrugged, unbothered by her words. "Maybe. But at least I won’t be the one who’s bitter and alone because I’m too stubborn to let anything slide."

Before Ace could fire back, the sound of a nearby jet engine roared to life, signalling that it was time to get to work. She shot him one last glare before turning on her heel and heading toward her plane. Rooster watched her go, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

The pilots gathered in the briefing room, a large, sterile space lined with chairs facing a wall of screens. The air was thick with the usual blend of tension and focus that accompanied every pre-flight briefing. Ace took a seat near the front, determined to focus on the mission and ignore Rooster, who had taken a seat a few rows behind her.

Phoenix stood at the front, leading the briefing with her usual no-nonsense attitude. She outlined the day’s manoeuvres and objectives, her voice calm and authoritative. But even as she spoke, she couldn’t help but notice the occasional, heated glances exchanged between Ace and Rooster.

It didn’t take long for the tension to bubble over.

Phoenix was in the middle of explaining a particularly complex manoeuverer when Rooster leaned back in his chair and spoke up, his tone casual but clearly intended to provoke.

"Some of us might need a refresher on this one. Don’t want anyone getting lost up there."

Ace stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she turned to look at him. "If you’re worried about keeping up, Rooster, maybe you should take notes."

A few of the other pilots exchanged glances, sensing the tension and doing their best to stay out of it. Phoenix sighed internally, knowing that once Ace and Rooster started, it was almost impossible to get them to stop.

"Alright, knock it off, you two," Phoenix said, her tone firm. "We’re here to work as a team, not to see who can throw the best insults. Save it for after the mission."

Ace bit back a retort, forcing herself to focus on the briefing instead of the urge to wipe that smug look off Rooster’s face. Rooster, for his part, simply leaned back and smirked, satisfied that he had gotten under her skin once again.

The day’s exercises were intense, a series of high-speed manoeuvres designed to push the pilots to their limits. Ace was in her element, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she focused on every turn, every dive. But no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn’t completely block out the presence of Rooster’s jet nearby.

Every time she checked her radar or adjusted her position, there he was—always close, always just a little too close. It felt like he was deliberately shadowing her, testing her, trying to outmanoeuvre her at every opportunity.

"Stay in your lane, Rooster," Ace muttered under her breath, though she knew he couldn’t hear her.

But it was clear from his manoeuvres that he was trying to show her up. Every roll, every dive was executed with precision, as if he was daring her to do better.

Ace grit her teeth and pushed her jet harder, determined not to let him get the upper hand. She mirrored his moves, staying right on his tail as they looped and rolled through the sky. The rivalry between them burned hotter with each passing moment, the tension building until it was almost unbearable.

But no matter how hard she pushed, Rooster was right there, matching her move for move. The frustration built up inside her until she could hardly see straight, her focus narrowing to just one thing: beating him.

When the exercises finally ended and the jets returned to base, Ace felt a wave of both relief and exhaustion. She landed her jet with a bit more force than necessary, her frustration still simmering just beneath the surface.

Back on the ground, the pilots gathered in the hangar to debrief and cool down. Ace was in the middle of checking her jet when Rooster walked by, a smug grin on his face.

"Looks like you were struggling a bit up there," he said, his tone infuriatingly casual.

Ace straightened up, fixing him with a cold stare. "I wasn’t struggling. But it’s cute that you think so."

Rooster shrugged, clearly unfazed. "If you say so. Maybe next time you’ll actually keep up."

Ace stepped closer, her frustration boiling over. "I don’t need to keep up with you, Rooster. If anything, you’re the one who’s slowing me down."

His grin widened, as if her anger was just what he’d been hoping for. "Slowing you down? Maybe you’re just not as fast as you think."

The two stood toe to toe, the tension between them crackling in the air. It was always like this—one little comment, one tiny spark, and they were at each other’s throats. Neither was willing to back down, and it was only a matter of time before one of them said something they couldn’t take back.

But before it could escalate any further, Phoenix walked over, her expression exasperated.

"Will you two knock it off already?" she said, stepping between them. "We’ve got enough to deal with today without you two bickering like school kids."

Ace took a deep breath, forcing herself to step back. Rooster, too, backed off, though the smug look never left his face.

"Fine," Ace muttered, turning her attention back to her jet. "Just stay out of my way."

Rooster gave a mock salute, his smirk still in place. "Whatever you say, Ace."

As he walked away, Ace’s frustration simmered, but she forced herself to focus on her work. She didn’t have time to let Rooster get under her skin—not when there was so much at stake.

But no matter how hard she tried to ignore him, the tension between them was always there, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to flare up at a moment’s notice.

The day had been long, and by the time Ace returned to her quarters, she was exhausted. Her body was sore, her mind was racing, and all she wanted to do was collapse into bed. But as she sat on the edge of her bed, her phone buzzed with a new email notification.

She picked it up, her mood lightening slightly as she saw it was from her mystery contact. The memory of their flirtatious exchange the night before brought a small smile to her lips, a welcome distraction from the frustrations of the day.

Hey there, the email read. How was your day?

She sighed, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she considered how to respond. Part of her wanted to vent about Rooster, about how infuriating he was, but she held back. She didn’t want to taint this connection with the negativity that seemed to follow her

---

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster was sprawled out on his couch, his guitar resting on his lap as he strummed absentmindedly. The buzz of his phone drew him out of his musings. He saw the email from his mystery contact and smiled, eager for a distraction from his day.

Hey there! My day was pretty intense. Spent most of it dealing with some annoying issues at work and got into a few heated exchanges. How about you?

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace read his response and couldn’t help but chuckle. It seemed like they were both having a tough day. She typed back, her fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard.

Intense is definitely the word for it. I had a rough day with some tricky equipment and a certain pilot who seems to think he’s invincible. But enough about me—what’s your idea of a perfect way to unwind after a day like that?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster’s smile widened as he read her email. Her mention of a troublesome pilot made him wonder if they might be talking about the same person, but he decided not to press the issue. Instead, he focused on her question.

Ah, a perfect way to unwind? I’d say a good jam session or maybe just kicking back with a favourite movie. Something that takes my mind off the chaos of the day. What about you? Any special routines to shake off the stress?

ACE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Ace considered his response while taking a sip from her cup of tea. His laid-back approach to winding down was something she could relate to. She quickly typed her reply.

Sounds pretty good. For me, it’s usually a mix of hitting the gym or getting lost in a good book. Sometimes, a good meal with friends can do wonders too. It’s nice to have a little routine to fall back on after a hectic day.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rooster liked the idea of winding down with friends—it was a nice contrast to the solitary nature of his typical evenings. He began typing his response with a relaxed grin.

Sounds like you’ve got a pretty solid routine. I’ve got to say, a good meal with friends sounds like something I could use more of. Maybe I should work on that. Anyway, what kind of books are you into? I’m always looking for recommendations.

ACE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Ace’s interest was piqued by his question. She enjoyed talking about books and was happy to share her favorites.

I’m a bit of a mix—I love thrillers and mysteries, but I also have a soft spot for classic literature. Recently, I’ve been diving into some historical fiction. How about you? What’s your go-to genre?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rooster read her email with interest. Her love for thrillers and classic literature was something he could relate to, though his tastes leaned a little differently.

I’m a fan of thrillers myself, though I’ve been known to get into sci-fi and fantasy from time to time. It’s always nice to escape into a different world for a while. Historical fiction sounds intriguing, though. I might need to check that out.

ACE’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Ace felt a genuine connection through their exchange. She was enjoying this conversation more than she’d expected. She responded with a hint of her playful side.

Sci-fi and fantasy, huh? That’s a pretty interesting mix. You might have to convince me that they’re worth diving into. And if you ever need a book recommendation, just let me know. I might have a few hidden gems up my sleeve.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Rooster’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he read her playful offer. He liked the idea of her recommending books—it felt like a little inside joke between them.

I’ll definitely take you up on that. And I’m always up for a good book challenge. Just don’t be too surprised if I end up recommending a few sci-fi classics in return. It’s all part of the fun, right?

ACE’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Ace’s smile grew as she read his response. The playful banter was exactly what she needed after a long day. She decided to keep the momentum going.

Challenge accepted. I’m ready for your recommendations anytime. And who knows, maybe we’ll end up with a shared list of must-reads by the end of this.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Rooster’s grin widened. He liked the idea of a book exchange and was intrigued by the way their conversation was flowing. He typed his last message of the night.

Looking forward to it. It’s nice to have something to look forward to, especially after a day like today. Here’s to new books and unexpected connections. Talk soon?

ACE’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Ace finished her tea and read his message with satisfaction. She felt a genuine connection growing and was looking forward to continuing the conversation.

Definitely. Here’s to more chats and less stress. I’ll be here.

She sent the email and closed her laptop, feeling a sense of calm settle over her. The mystery contact was turning out to be a much-needed bright spot in her hectic life.

---

The hangar was alive with the usual pre-flight activity. Rooster was inspecting his jet, but his attention kept drifting towards Ace, who was absorbed in her tablet. Her brows were furrowed, and she seemed completely engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

Rooster, never one to miss an opportunity, strolled over with a casual swagger, a mischievous grin on his face. “Hey, Ace,” he called out, his tone light but laced with teasing. “Looks like you’re pretty absorbed over there. Texting someone special, are we?”

Ace glanced up, her expression a mix of irritation and surprise. “What’s it to you, Rooster?”

Rooster leaned in a little closer, clearly enjoying the moment. “Just curious. I saw you typing away like your life depends on it. You’ve got to be talking to someone pretty important, right? A special someone, maybe?”

Ace’s eyes narrowed as she tried to hide the screen of her tablet. “It’s none of your business. Can’t you just focus on your own stuff?”

Rooster’s grin widened. “Oh, come on. Don’t be so secretive. I’m just wondering if you’re setting up a hot date or maybe just chatting with a certain someone who’s been on your mind.”

Ace’s face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and anger. “Seriously, Rooster? Not everything’s a joke. I’m just dealing with some work stuff.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying riling her up. “Work stuff, huh? If it’s work, why’re you so secretive? You can tell me. I promise I won’t judge. Or is it that you’re afraid I might find out it’s someone...well, let’s say, more interesting?”

Ace’s frustration peaked. She shoved her tablet into her bag and took a step toward Rooster, her voice low but fierce. “You’ve been on my case all morning. If you don’t back off, I swear—”

Rooster chuckled, stepping back slightly. “Whoa, calm down there. I’m just making conversation. Didn’t realize you’d be so touchy about it. Guess it’s a sensitive topic.”

Before Ace could respond, Phoenix and the other squad members noticed the growing tension. Phoenix stepped in, her expression serious. “Alright, enough. If you two can’t handle a little teasing without it escalating, I’m going to have to step in.”

Hangman and Coyote, catching the edge in Phoenix’s tone, moved closer. Coyote placed a hand on Ace’s shoulder, gently pulling her back. “Hey, Ace, take a breath. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”

Hangman approached Rooster, his expression one of mixed amusement and exasperation. “Rooster, you’re really pushing it today. Maybe give it a rest, huh?”

Ace, still seething, shook her head. “I’m done with this. I just want to get through the day without dealing with his nonsense.”

Rooster, now more subdued but still smirking, raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll back off. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Fanboy and Bob, who had been watching from a distance, approached to help defuse the situation. Fanboy clapped Rooster on the shoulder. “Come on, man. Let’s focus on the mission.”

Bob nodded in agreement, glancing at Ace with concern. “Everyone needs to stay cool. We’ve got enough on our plates without adding personal drama to the mix.”

As the squad began to gather for the briefing, the tension between Ace and Rooster lingered, but they both knew they had to refocus. Phoenix took a deep breath, addressing the group. “Let’s all get it together. We’ve got a briefing coming up, and we need to be professional.”

Ace and Rooster, now separated by the intervention of their teammates, walked toward the briefing room, the earlier animosity still simmering but temporarily set aside. The squad’s intervention had helped to de-escalate the situation, but the morning’s drama left a mark on everyone’s mood as they prepared for the day’s mission.

---

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace slumped onto her couch, exhausted from the day’s events. Her laptop was open, and she continued her email conversation with her anonymous contact, hoping to unwind a bit. She began typing with a mix of curiosity and irritation about the ongoing mystery.

Hey,

Today was a disaster. Had a big argument with a colleague who really knows how to get under my skin. Not the best day for me. But this email exchange has been a good distraction, I guess.

How about you? How’s your day going? Anything to share?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster read her email with a smirk. He was enjoying the light-hearted banter but was curious to see if he could draw out more information. He typed back, subtly hinting at the similarities in their work environments.

Hey,

Sounds like we’ve both had our share of drama. My day wasn’t any better—had some heated exchanges with colleagues. It’s like we’re living in the same soap opera.

I’m starting to think our work situations might be more similar than we realized. Anyway, got any funny or surprising stories from your day?

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace read his email with increasing suspicion. His description of his day seemed all too familiar. Deciding to push further, she typed her response, trying to get more clues about who he might be.

Hey,

It’s funny—your day sounds almost too familiar. I’m starting to wonder if we might be talking about the same environment. If you’re in a high-pressure job with lots of drama, I might have a pretty good guess about who you are.

Any hints?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster saw her email and felt a spark of recognition. He decided to give a direct clue to see if it would lead to an answer.

Hey,

Alright, here’s a hint: I work in a place where tensions are high and everyone’s on edge. Sounds like you might be in a similar boat. Does that help?

I’m curious—any idea who I might be?

INT. ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace read his clue and felt a sharp pang of realization. Her frustration from the day mixed with the sudden clarity about her correspondent’s identity. She quickly typed her response, her irritation clear in her words.

You’ve got to be kidding me. With your “high-pressure” job description, it’s pretty obvious that you’re Rooster. I should have known, I can’t believe I’ve been having these conversations with you, of all people.

This is ridiculous. And to think I was actually enjoying this exchange. I’m so done with this.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster’s eyes widened in shock as he read Ace’s email. The realization hit him hard, and his amusement turned into frustration. He quickly typed a reply, his tone reflecting his annoyance.

Seriously? I had a feeling, but this is just perfect. So it turns out I’ve been emailing with Ace. I should have known you’d be the one on the other end. What a surprise.

I can’t believe you were getting so worked up over these emails. Great, just great. I guess we’ve got a lot to talk about now. Or maybe not.

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace’s frustration flared as she read Rooster’s reply. She cursed under her breath, the realization that Rooster was behind the emails making her even more upset. She slammed her laptop shut, her annoyance with both Rooster and Hangman boiling over.

“Damn it, Rooster. And damn Hangman for setting this up!” she fumed. “This whole thing was a setup from the start.”

She paced the room, trying to calm herself. The surprise and anger of discovering her mystery contact was Rooster left her seething. The day had been a mess, and the email revelation only added fuel to the fire.

Please comment, like and reblog!

[writing-for-marvel]

Day 1: Mile High Club

Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky start your honeymoon off the right way - by fucking in his private jet.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, sex on a plane, semi public sex, fingering, fingering in front of an unsuspecting flight attendant, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: the start of our honeymoon adventure! I hope you all enjoy all the fun smuttiness! Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

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Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library

Bucky’s large, tattooed hand, adorned with a gold wedding band, is splayed on your thigh as his luxurious private jet roars to life, racing along the runway until you sense the drop in your stomach as it lifts off the ground and into the air.

Your heart begins to race as you feel Bucky’s hand slowly inch further up your thigh as the plane climbs higher in the sky. You take a deep, steadying breath as the force of the plane pushes your body back into your seat, appreciating the plush leather against your bare skin as Bucky’s electric touch reaches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Your honeymoon hasn’t even technically started and he is already proving that he can’t keep his hands off you. Just one of the many reasons you married him in the first place.

“I can’t wait to finally have my wife all to myself.” Your newlywed whispers as his hand reaches the apex of your thigh, your heart races just that little bit faster at the prospect of being caught by the stewardess required to accompany you on the flight.

“Hmm, and what have you got planned for when we’re all alone my dear husband?” Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky’s cold finger slips underneath your panties and ghosts across your warm core.

A dangerously cocky grin curves onto his plump lips and even before he says the words to confirm your fate, you know he is going to make this a honeymoon you’ll never forget.

“I’m thinking about all the different ways I can ruin you and keep you stuffed full of my cum for the next four weeks.” He whispers seductively directly into your ear as his middle finger breaches your entrance. You inhale a sharp breath and bite the side of your lip as he pushes all the way in, smirking at you as if he knows this is just the beginning of every way he plans to ravage you.

A ding rings out through the cabin and before you can so much as flinch, an impeccably dressed hostess appears in front of you.

“We’re at cruising altitude, you can now unbuckle your seatbelts. Sir, is there anything you need?” She asks in a sweet voice, her tone indicating she either cannot see Bucky’s finger knuckle deep inside your dripping pussy, obstructed by the table in front of you, or is choosing not to acknowledge that fact.

Bucky answers without taking his eyes off you.

“To be left alone with my wife.”

The stewardess disappears as quickly as she materialised, but when Bucky adds a second finger to your pussy, stretching your walls by scissoring his fingers, your periphery goes blurry.

He picks up the pace, thrusting both fingers in and out of you relentlessly, his calloused thumb swiping over your clit with the perfect pressure he has learnt with experience does you in.

“That’s the spot, isn’t it darling.” He whispers in your ear as he curls his fingers to graze over the spongy patch inside you which makes you see stars. You nod but it’s superfluous, Bucky knows every inch of your body and is fully aware he’s got you figuratively and literally in the palm of his hand.

You grab hold of his veiny forearm to keep you tethered to reality as his motions bring you ever closer to floating off on a cloud of bliss.

“Cum for me.” Your husband demands. With a vigorous thrust of his fingers and a swipe of his thumb over your clit, the band in your lower stomach snaps and you comply with Bucky’s orders.

It is only once you’ve come down from your high that Bucky removes his fingers from your drenched pussy. He teases your lips with his slick covered fingers until you open wide and begin sucking on them, tasting your own sweet release.

“You know, I had a bed installed in the back of the jet just for this very occasion.” Bucky comments, nipping at your earlobe as you swirl your tongue around his fingers.

“What are we still doing here then?”

Bucky leads you to the back of the plane with your hand intertwined with his. As soon as the sliding door to the small yet private bedroom shuts behind you, Bucky’s lips attach to the column of your neck as every piece of clothing covering both your bodies gets thrown to the ground.

You’re held protectively in his arms as Bucky falls backwards onto the soft expanse of the bed. He kisses you assiduously as his hands roam your body, eventually making their way down to your ass, manhandling you to pull your body above his face.

“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Can’t believe she’s all mine for the rest of my life.” Bucky hums before diving in. He starts with licking one long stripe up your slit, and you can feel his lips form a grin against you as your thighs tighten around his head. “You taste so good. So sweet.” He eats you out as if he’s been fasting for months, when in reality he was between your thighs on your wedding night less than 16 hours ago. He switches between his tongue being buried in your cunt, fucking up into your puckered hole and slurping obscenely, lapping up all the juices through your folds, twirling the tip of his tongue around your clit.

“Bucky, please, I-, please.” Your hands grasp onto his hair, tugging harder as his fingertips dig into the meat of your ass. The vibrations of his voice and the plane as it races through the atmosphere sends sparks firing up the base of your spine through your whole body.

“Are you desperate for your husband's cock, Mrs Barnes?” He asks teasingly against your folds, knowing referring to you by your new title will only make you wetter.

“Yes, Buck! I’m fucking dripping - need you so bad.” You plead with a sob, your pussy clenching around nothing, the ache within you burning like a forest fire which could only be quelled with him deep inside you.

Bucky’s soft lips place a feather light kiss to your sensitive clit before his strong hands grasp your hips tightly, lifting you onto his thick thighs. Your mind is dizzy with lust and pleasure, but Bucky’s dazzling blue eyes, the same ones that were the first feature of his you noticed the night you met, stand out clearly in your haze.

“Then take it. Take it like the good little whore I married. Take every inch of this dick and show me why it’s yours.”

Bucky’s large, rough hands don’t leave your hips as you stroke his thick length with both your hands a couple times as you lift yourself above him, rubbing his bulbous tip through your soaking folds. Lining yourself up with him, you press your hips back down on him slowly, feeling him fill you up to the brim.

You let out simultaneous groans, your eyes never once leaving Bucky’s as you focus on the sensation of how deliciously full and satiated you feel, how his eyes widen and lips fall apart is exactly like the first time you slept with him after making this formidable mob boss prove he’d treat you right.

You’d never forget the feeling of the first time he thrust into you, the fervour in which he worshipped your body and the way those ocean eyes gazed at you like you were the most precious gem he planned on treasuring for as long as you’d let him. This hardened man, who strikes fear in the eyes of the toughest of crime lords, is soft for you and only you.

It was the moment you truly understood what sex could be like - should be like.

You knew then that there was no one else for you. That you’d eventually marry him.

Both your hands find his strong, tattooed chest to steady yourself as you begin circling your hips, grinding against him, moaning at the sensation of your puffy clit rubbing the coarse hair at his pelvic bone.

“Oh God, Bucky, you’re so deep.” With Bucky’s strong hands assisting you, you push yourself up and sink back down on his cock. He lets you set your own pace, finding the right angle where he strokes all the right spots that makes your knees weak.

You can feel his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips, his mesmerised gaze fixated on how he’s filling you.

“Fuck, baby, look at you swallowing me whole.” Once you’ve built up a rhythm, one of Bucky's hands navigates to your breast where he flicks your pert nipple with his thumb, the other moving to where your bodies join, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The pleasure feels like it’s coming from all directions, from both externally and within you, it’s too much and not enough at the same time, every nerve firing with pure euphoria, threatening to send you straight to heaven.

“I’m so close, Buck…” A sob bubbles up your throat, all cells in your body swelling with immense pleasure. More than ever you can feel each ridged inch of Bucky stretching out your pussy, every sensation heightened as with each rock of your hips you hurtle ever closer to your second high.

“Go ahead, my love, let go. Cum on your husband's cock.”

Ecstasy overtakes your entire body at his permission, your eyes roll backwards, your whole body seizes and your bouncing motions stop as your walls flutter around his thick, veiny length. But Bucky doesn’t let you off that easily, he grabs both of your hips and starts fucking up into you hard and fast, prolonging and heightening your orgasm with each graze of your g-spot, making your legs shake and you scream out his name so loudly you’re sure the pilots can hear.

You collapse into his chest as his thrusts become staggered, closing in on his own high. Placing a gentle kiss to his sharp jaw, Bucky grunts, moans your name and stalls within you, ropes of his cum painting your walls.

You tap his strapping chest three times as you both pant, catching your breath cuddling up to one another. I. Love. You.

His embrace feels like home, even thousands of feet up in the air. You’re certain that no matter where in the world you are, James Bucky Barnes will always be your safe place.

“Now, let's see how many more times I can make you cum before we land.”

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Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot

[radioactiverats]

Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader (15/?)

Direct continuation of part 13 - you break Starscream out of the Ark, but he’s not happy about your recklessness, or the newest additions to your frame.

———

You split apart to dodge automatic tracking missiles - the Autobot base can be an unfriendly place when it wants to be.

"Are you out of your fragging processor?" Starscream bellows, when you spiral close enough to be within hearing distance over the roar of ammunition.

"Language," You shout back, smug.

Starscream's thrusters clearly sputter for a klik.

"Why, you-"

Dizzy with adrenaline and relief, you loop giddily around his alt-mode through peals of laughter before speeding ahead with a whoop.

For a moment, Starscream hovers in place. Your familiar colours are a sight for sore eyes after nearly a week in Autobot captivity, and for a moment, watching you do loop after loop in the sky, hooting and hollering, he genuinely can't help but be impressed. It is with no small amount of pride that he notes how you successfully managed to somehow locate, sneak into, and break him out of the Autobot base on your first try.

Simultaneously, as soon as he gets his servos on you, he's going to flay you alive for attempting a rescue with hideously low odds. Alone. The thought is enough to make his spark twist, and his thrusters scream as he jets after you.

Sure, you broke him out of a high-security prison. But to what end?

Right now, you couldn't care less. You'd done it. Even Knockout's faith had wavered, but a few fragmented maps and crawling through air ducts later, you'd managed to reach Starscream. The Autobots clearly hadn't anticipated a rescue party small enough to fit into the air ducts, something that had brought you great relief to discover.

However, it seems that not everybody is happy - a streak of red, white, and blue screams past you, pivoting sharply to block your path. You pull up with a screech of your engines, hovering in place as you face him.

His EM field nearly knocks you off-balance as soon as you come close enough to feel it. A convoluted mix of rageprideworry pours off his frame in waves, but it's with some disappointment that you note rage seems to be the most potent.

"Of all the foolhardy things you could have done - did you think I would thank you? What you did goes way beyond danger into the realm of stupidity!"

Wow. You stop, caught in midair. Now that was something you hadn't expected. You were happy just to get him out, but you hadn't expected him to be so hostile.

"Come on, I got you out - isn't that cause for celebration?"

"At what cost?" Starscream hisses. "I never asked for you to do this!"

Your alt-mode quivers with annoyance.

"Why are you angry?"

Starscream whirls on you, transforming to reveal his blazing optics, his furious expression.

"Transform," He hisses. "Now."

Sulkily, you do. You just broke him out of the enemy faction's jail. Why was he so upset with you?

Mechanisms grind. Your plates shift into place, and Starscream's optics immediately settle on the null rays fitted onto your arms.

Just like his.

Starscream grits his denta. By virtue of having the same weaponry, he understands all too well what it took to have them attached. Not all seekers had null rays - it took a cause bigger than yourself to survive the pain.

"Don't bother," He snaps, as soon as your intake opens. Presumably to spew some excuse about how it was fine. "I know it hurt."

"It did," You say. "A lot."

Your admission stuns him into silence for a klik before he regains control with a noise of disgust. Whether aimed at you or him, you're not sure.

"I don't risk my spark just for you to destroy yourself," He hisses. "Mechs tend to make an effort in the general direction of self-preservation, you know."

You prickle, needing him to know you don't regret anything. "It was for good cause."

Starscream's alive. Still with you. Anything would have been worth that. He doesn't seem to think the same way, but you don't back down.

Yet, he scoffs at you. "Good cause? Don't you ever think? We could have both been captured. Did you have a plan for that?"

You're starting to get angry, EM field sparking against his. Frag, you didn't risk everything and succeed just for him to yell at you.

"But we didn't get captured!"

"That's besides the point!" Starscream snaps. "It wasn't worth - "

He abruptly cuts himself off, whirling away from you with a snarl.

For a few kliks, his ragged ex-venting roars louder in your audials than the flare of your thrusters.

"Listen to me. If anything like this ever happens again, I forbid you from doing anything so reckless. I forbid you from coming after me. That is an order. Do you understand?"

You stare at him for a klik, not saying anything. Carefully, you take in the tension in his shoulders, the urgency in his optics.

Manipulative as he may seem, Starscream has never been good at hiding his true feelings - giving everything away with a twitch of his wings, a flare of emotion across his faceplate.

He doesn't want you to get hurt over him -

- and he’s stupid for it, you decide.

If he can't see his own value, it's up to you to show him. Your digits curl into stubborn fists at your sides.

"Ever realize that I'd risk my spark for you, too?"

For a few moments, Starscream simply stares at you as he takes in what you said. As if really seeing you for the first time.

"You..."

Abruptly, the fight seems to bleed from his frame.

“You shouldn’t,” He hisses, but it’s weak.

“Live with it,” You say, feeling strangely bold. “Like I would be anything without you.”

Later, you’ll replay this moment in your processor and feel immensely smug for rendering the great Starscream utterly speechless.

“…Of course,” He eventually mutters.

“Please don’t get captured again.”

At that, he snorts, shoulders relaxing some. “No promises.”

“We could take turns. I’ll get captured next time, and you break me out.”

“Do that, and I’ll take you apart screw by screw once I’ve rescued you. While you’re online. You’ll be wishing I’d left you with the Autobots if you ever pull something like that.”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh.”

———

Starscream had anticipated this - it does take you some time getting used to the null rays. Not the usage, per se, as they’re basically part of you now - but becoming spatially aware of two giant weapons of mass destruction attached to your smaller frame.

He’d handed you an energon cube - you’d raised your arm and nearly took his optic out before you could say thank you. You look sheepishly at Starscream.

“Would you believe me if I said I forgot those were there?”

Surprisingly, he just sighs. “Drink your cube, cadet.”

Another time, poring over datapads, you’d tried to point at a spelling mistake in a report - both finger and null ray descended at the same time, succeeding in pointing out the spelling error and cracking the datapad beside it. You and Starscream stared silently at the shattered datapad, which crackled weakly before giving up on life entirely.

Every time, you expect to be chastised - but he’s oddly patient with you. Perhaps by virtue of having gone through the same thing himself.

He does mutter something about training you to make full use of the null rays, now that you have them. Having him back soothes something deep inside your spark - no matter what he says, you know that he has your back. One day, you just hope he’ll allow you to have his.

Previous / Next

[avocado-writing]

Could I have Halsin x afab!enby!reader smut with some breeding kink, please?

notes: darling you're so polite when you request smut, like you're ordering from a menu of course you can 😌

rating: E. This is filthy. Minors dni

pairing: halsin x reader

words: <1k

It feels like every aspect of your existence has been narrowed down to this point - here, now, speared on your druid’s cock.

Halsin is an attentive lover; he fucks you like it is his duty. You’re laid out on your back beneath him, candyfloss-brained and pliable like clay, every aspect of you his. He unmakes you with his touch, brings you to ecstasy over and over, content just to watch your pleasure - he told you once that you were nature’s most exquisite sight and, given the way he’s staring down at you now with pupils so wide that his irises are obscured, you might just be able to believe it.

“Ahh… Halsin…” you manage, pawing up at his thick chest with boneless fingers. He takes your hand in a firm, sweet embrace, raising it so he can kiss you on your wrist, your palm, your knuckles. 

“My love. Perfect. I want you in every possible way.”

His eyes flash with a devilish delight, and in that moment you know what he’d ask of you. It’s something which you freely give.

“Halsin… put a baby in me…” you sigh, linking your ankles at the small of his back to drive his cock even deeper into you. He is thick, wonderfully so, and long too - he reaches further inside of you than anyone ever has before. You are full to the brim with Halsin, Halsin, Halsin; the warm rub of him driving you wild. 

But you want to be overflowing.

When he hears those words stumble from your lips his thrusting goes erratic for a beat, you can feel him throb. He makes a low, bestial growl in the back of his throat. A primal noise, possessive.

“Hmm… If you ask me to do that, I will be unable to stop having you until I’m certain that you’re pregnant. I can barely keep my hands off of you anyway. but if you want me to give you a child you… there is a chance you won’t leave our bed until I can see how round you are.”

You moan at the idea of him keeping you in one place and pumping you so full of spend that your puffy hole is constantly dripping with it. That he has to bring you food and water to keep you contented because you’re so cock-drunk that you can’t move. No room for thoughts. Just open legs and willing cunt until you can feel your womb quicken with him.

“Do it, Halsin, fuck. Mark me as yours. Show the world who shares my bed every night. I want everyone to look at me and know what you’ve done…”

Another growl, this one louder, and marked with the snapping of his hips forward into you. The sounds of wetness coming from your coupling are lewd and gorgeous as he pounds into you over and over. You don’t think that you’ve ever been this wet. 

His hand spreads out across the expanse of your stomach, warmth from his skin seeping into you. It is as if he is picturing his seed taking root inside of you. You are ripe, willing, and desperate for it, for him, and he is vicious about the idea of you swelling with a cub he breeds into you. 

Hips move faster. You’re going to finish. He’s going to finish, and as the head of his cock bounces into the sweet spot against your walls you feel him come harder than he’s ever done before - he lets out a bitten-off roar as he spills, filling you over and over with his hot jets. As the inside of your cunt is coated you follow him over the precipice and experience an orgasm so intense that it feels as if your soul has left your body for a moment - but Halsin brings you back with a fierce kiss.

He continues to ride out his release inside of you, tender little rolls of his hips until he begins to soften. Even then he remains inside of you, connected in the most intimate of embraces, forehead resting against yours as the two of you breathe the same air.

“Gods,” you manage eventually, and Halsin laughs, low and gravelly.

“Oak Father preserve us all. You will be the end of me, you know.”

“Yes, and won’t it be fun?” you say with a cheeky grin. He groans.

“I don’t know if my old bones can take it.”

“Well, I believe in you. Fancy trying again? I want you to make good on your promise, you know, and the more we try the better our odds are…” 

He lets out another low noise, and with glee you feel him harden again.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @infinitely-kate @trappedinlimbo15 @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget

[ilovekittycats2]

Weightless

Jake Seresin x reader

this is a part 4 of the High Maintenance series

(use of y/n)

In which,

Y/N goes up and never wants to come back down.

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The offer lingered in your mind long after Jake had walked away.

You told yourself it was ridiculous, that you were perfectly fine keeping your feet on the ground, that flying was his thing, not yours. But the way he had looked at you when he said it—like he was offering you a piece of his world, like he wanted you to see things the way he did—made it hard to ignore.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon the next day, you were pacing the hangar, staring at the jet Jake had been working on earlier. The thought of flying, of trusting him in the cockpit, made your stomach twist in a way that was equal parts excitement and nerves.

“You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up,” a familiar voice drawled.

You turned to find Jake leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his lips. He wasn’t in his flight suit—just a worn t-shirt and jeans, looking as effortlessly confident as ever.

“I wasn’t pacing,” you argued, crossing your arms in defiance.

Jake chuckled, pushing off the doorway and strolling toward you. “Right. And I don’t have the best damn landing record in the squadron.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “I was just thinking.”

“Dangerous,” he teased. “Care to share?”

You hesitated, glancing back at the jet. Then, before you could second-guess yourself, you exhaled sharply. “I want to go up.”

Jake’s smirk softened into something more genuine, something warmer. “Yeah?”

You nodded, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Yeah.”

His grin widened. “Well, sweetheart, you just made my night.”

Before you could change your mind, he took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before leading you toward the flight gear. “Let’s get you suited up.”

It wasn’t long before you found yourself strapped into the backseat of the jet, your heart hammering as Jake ran through the pre-flight checks. The cockpit was smaller than you imagined, suffocating in a way that had nothing to do with the tight harness across your chest.

Jake’s voice crackled through the headset, grounding you. “You nervous?”

You swallowed hard, gripping the straps of your harness. “A little.”

He grinned. “Good. Means you’re paying attention.”

The canopy sealed shut, enclosing you both in a space so small it made you acutely aware of every breath, every shift in Jake’s posture. Then the engines roared to life, the vibrations rattling through your bones as the aircraft surged forward.

The runway blurred beneath you, speed pressing you back into the seat. Your fingers dug into the sides of the cockpit, anticipation knotting tight in your stomach. And then—

You were airborne.

The ground fell away in an instant, leaving only the endless stretch of sky before you. Your stomach lurched, fear twisting through you for a fleeting second—until you looked out at the horizon, where the sun was sinking in molten gold and streaks of violet and crimson.

It was beautiful.

“How you doin’ back there?”

Jake’s voice broke through the static, laced with something that wasn’t quite teasing—more like anticipation, like he wanted to know if you felt it too.

You inhaled deeply, a slow smile forming as you finally let go of the last of your fear. “I think I get it now.”

Jake laughed, full and unrestrained. “Told you.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt weightless.

Jake guided the jet through gentle maneuvers at first, letting you get a feel for the sensation of being in the air. “Wanna try something fun?” he asked after a moment, mischief lacing his voice.

You narrowed your eyes. “Define fun.”

He chuckled. “Trust me.”

Before you could respond, he pulled the jet into a slow, controlled roll. Your breath caught in your throat as the horizon flipped, your stomach lurching with the motion. The ground became the sky, and for a moment, it felt like you were falling—until you realized that Jake had never lost control, not for a second. He handled the aircraft with a precision that made you feel safe, even when the world turned upside down.

“That was—” you started, still gripping the harness, “—actually kind of amazing.”

Jake’s laughter crackled through the headset. “Knew you had it in you.”

He guided the jet through a few more maneuvers, showing you the grace and precision that came with years of experience. And with each passing moment, you felt yourself letting go—of your hesitation, your fear, your doubts. Up here, in the sky, there was no room for uncertainty. There was only the hum of the jet, the steady sound of Jake’s voice, and the boundless horizon ahead.

Eventually, he leveled out, letting you take in the view. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, the clouds glowing with soft light. It was breathtaking.

Jake’s voice was quieter when he spoke again. “Kinda makes you never wanna come back down, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah. I get it now.”

For a moment, there was silence between you, save for the steady hum of the engines. Then, Jake said, “Maybe next time, I’ll let you take the stick.”

You laughed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Hangman.”

“Hey, I’ve got faith in you,” he said, and something in his tone made your chest tighten. “I think you’d surprise yourself.”

You exhaled, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was just the beginning.

When you landed and climbed out of the jet, Jake was already waiting for you. His helmet dangled from one hand as he ran the other through his tousled hair, shaking out the tension of the flight. His gaze was locked onto you, unwavering, searching. You could feel the intensity of it even as you pulled off your own helmet, your pulse still pounding from the rush of being up there. He was waiting for something—for you to say something first, to confirm what he already knew.

“So?” His voice was steady, but there was a hint of anticipation beneath it, a thread of something deeper woven into his usual confidence.

You met his eyes, and despite the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you felt something even stronger settle in your chest. A certainty. A pull. “I think I might be addicted.”

Jake’s smirk came instantly, sharp and knowing, but there was something else there too. A flicker of satisfaction, of relief, of something softer he wasn’t quite ready to put words to. “Told you I’d make you love it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore. It spread, curling at the edges of your ribs, unfurling into something vast and unshakable. And then Jake took a step forward, closing the distance between you just enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him. His presence was overwhelming in the best possible way, and when his fingers brushed against yours, a shiver ran through you, setting every nerve in your body alight. The brush of his calloused fingertips against your palm was barely more than a whisper, but it sent something unraveling inside you, something you hadn’t been ready to acknowledge until now.

“I wasn’t just talking about flying,” he murmured, his voice low, intimate.

The air between you shifted, charged with something electric, something unspoken but impossible to ignore. It was in the way his fingers curled around yours, his touch just firm enough to ground you while your heart continued its relentless hammering against your ribs. You felt frozen in place, and yet, at the same time, you felt like you were falling—plummeting into something unknown, something terrifyingly exhilarating.

His gaze flickered to your lips, just for a fraction of a second, before his eyes locked back onto yours. There was no rush, no reckless impulse—just steady, measured patience, as if he was waiting for you to move first, to pull away if that’s what you wanted. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Every ounce of resistance you’d once had, every effort you had made to keep him at arm’s length, to pretend that whatever this was didn’t exist, crumbled beneath the weight of the moment.

And then, before you could overthink it, before the weight of everything could crash down on you, Jake closed the space between you and kissed you.

It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was sure, steady—like the way he flew, like the way he had always been there, lingering just close enough for you to finally see him. His lips were warm, firm, moving against yours with a gentleness that contradicted every cocky smirk, every teasing remark. One of his hands slid up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek, anchoring you to the moment, to him.

The world around you faded. The sounds of the base, the distant chatter of other pilots, the hum of the engines cooling down—it all disappeared. There was only Jake, only the way he fit against you, the way he kissed you like he had been waiting for this just as long as you had. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was an answer to a question neither of you had dared to ask.

Your hands found his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his flight suit as if holding onto him would keep you from floating away. And maybe it would, because right then, you felt weightless all over again, like the sky had never let you go. Like Jake Seresin had never let you fall.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. His eyes searched yours, still holding that quiet intensity, as if he needed to be sure this was real. As if he needed you to tell him this wasn’t just the high of adrenaline, wasn’t just the thrill of the moment.

You exhaled softly, your fingers still fisted in his flight suit. “I think I might be addicted to this too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s smile was slow, lazy, and entirely too smug, but the way his fingers tightened against your waist betrayed the depth beneath his bravado. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m not letting you quit.”

And with that, he kissed you again, deeper this time, with the kind of promise that neither of you needed to say out loud. Because you both knew—this was only the beginning.

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hey guysssssss here is the 4th installement to this series!!!! this one was fun to write... im not sure if i should end this series here or keep going lemme know if you guys have any ideas. love you

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 14

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, drinking, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, swearing, references to the loss of a parent or parents, reference to past bedroom activities

Seresin Ranch, Clifton, Texas, Now

The ride home was spent in silence. The girls had quickly packed their things and mounted their horses after Savannah had shrieked at their father that she wanted to go home, right that second. Jake had nodded at them that they were going home, and they were all fully packed within a half an hour.

Savannah hadn’t made a peep since, only hissing at their father that his ‘chances’ with her father were now impossible before plopping herself onto a boulder and ignoring them all. Jake had only huffed a sigh and packed both of their bags up before tacking up the horses.

They had taken the short trail back to the ranch and took no stops, so they ended up back at the ranch just before dinner time, their mother peeking her head out of the curtains and frowning at them.

Savannah clumsily dismounted, Angel stomping her foot in discomfort until the petite blond had her designer cowgirl boots on solid ground. With a huff, Savannah whipped her hair as she turned towards their father and hurled her engagement ring at his chest.

“You could’ve been so much more than this,” she hissed at him, jerking her chin at his girls. “We could’ve sent them to a boarding school or to live with their mother, and you could’ve joined the Navy again like you wanted to! Instead, you’ll never be anything but some…some…farmer!”

Jake shook his head slowly at her, his eyes locked on her with a look that Charlie was very happy she had never seen directed at her.

“I would never have let you send my girls to boarding school. Being their father is the best thing I have ever done. And if you can’t see that, then it’s your fault,” Jake’s voice was calm and cool, but Rooster recognized it as he and Buttercup emerged from the house, trying and failing to look nonchalant as they rushed towards the tense looking confrontation. It was Jake’s mission voice. His Hangman voice. The same voice he had used when he had confronted Rooster about the Uranium Mission, about him not having what it takes to fly, about how he was only there because Maverick had flown with Rooster’s old man. Hangman was pure arrogance and jet fuel, with none of Jake’s tenderness and homespun, golden boy manners.

“Or is it your fault for not telling me there were two of those little demons?” Savannah sneered.

“Watch it,” Buttercup stepped forward. “Nobody gets to talk about my girls that way.”

Savannah rolled her eyes. “You can have him,” she scoffed as she turned her back on them all and strolled towards the big, black SUV that was thundering up the drive. “Nobody will want him now anyway.”

Rooster moved to stand next to Jake as Savannah clambered up into the SUV that her father was driving, offering the retired Air Force Colonel a sarcastic salute before crouching and retrieving the fallen diamond ring.

They watched in silence as the SUV roared away, a collective sigh of relief rippling through them all as it disappeared into the distance.

“I feel like I should burn this thing,” Rooster mused, staring down at the platinum band. “Y’know, douse it in holy water and set it on fire so it doesn’t attract any more hell spawn.”

Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Shut up, man. Hey! Slow your roll, you two!”

Rooster peered over his shoulder at the twins, who were trying to make a sneaky exit into the house. Rooster chuckled as they glanced at each other and slowed their footsteps but didn’t stop.

“Freeze, ladies!” Buttercup barked, striding towards them. “You know what your father meant.”

With a sigh that heaved their shoulders, Abby and Charlie halted on the porch and turned towards their parents.

Jake crouched in front of them and scanned their faces with his pilot’s precision.

“Someone better start talking…” he murmured into the still air.

“Well, you see—”

“We didn’t actually do anything wrong—”

“It’s only that—”

“Nothing dangerous—”

Jake held up a hand and the air went still again.

“Chipmunks don’t just miraculously appear in a closed saddlebag,” he started, staring between them. “They have to be placed there. And I don’t know anyone better at handling rodents than my daughter Charlie, who has been helping remove chipmunks and squirrels from the hay loft since she was a toddler.” Charlie flushed, kicking at a stone beneath her boot. “And while I appreciate the concern you both had about Savannah having an allergic reaction, that doesn’t explain this.” He pulled the open packet of itching powder out of his jeans pocket. Abby gulped. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the hay around the tent spikes of Savannah’s tent either.” He looked between them. “All I want to know is why?”

He stared at them for a long moment, green clashing with green, until Abby groaned and crumbled. “I’m sorry, Dad, but Savannah was awful. She bragged about being a champion rider, but anyone with eyes could tell she had never been on a horse! And she was always hanging off you like she couldn’t do anything by herself. And…”

“And her vibe was way off, Dad,” Charlie added, stepping forward. “And I think you knew that. That’s why you didn’t introduce us until after you proposed.”

“I didn’t introduce you because you were off at camp,” Jake argued, biting back a groan as he stretched back to his full height. “And I’ll admit that I should’ve told her that you’re twins, but at the time, I thought you didn’t know about each other.”

“So, you kept Abby a secret from me, and I kept my feelings about Savannah a secret from you,” Charlie grinned slyly. “Sounds like we both did the wrong thing, old man.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Maybe…but I’m the adult here. Which means I’m the one who gets to dole out any punishment for unnecessary pranks pulled on the trail ride.”

Charlie gulped. “You’re not going to make Mom and Abby go home early are you?”

Jake’s eyes softened. “I would never do that, Charlie-girl. But you and your sister are going to be doing extra chores around here. You’re going to have to muck out all the stalls in the morning, feed the horses, and polish the tack.”

Abby and Charlie grinned at each other. “Is that it?”

“Restricted phone time,” Buttercup shot them a stern look. “You can have your phones for an hour in the morning and an hour at night. But that’s it. I have no doubt you used your phones to help coordinate these schemes of yours, so this is just a natural consequence.”

“Can Abby still sleep in my room?”

Jake met Buttercup’s eyes and nodded. “We’re okay with that.”

“And we can still go to Uncle Javy’s football game?”

Buttercup grinned at Jake and rolled her eyes fondly. “I suppose that’s alright.”

The girls cheered and hugged each other. “We’re okay with that!”

They grabbed their backpacks and ran into the house, chattering away, and Buttercup sighed before following along behind them.

“Not so fast.”

She blinked and turned to him. “What did I do?”

Jake folded his arms across his broad chest and cocked an eyebrow at her. “You know what you did.”

Buttercup’s hands met her hips as she shifted her weight to jut a hip out. “Do I?”

Jake rolled his eyes as a smile played on his lips. “What exactly did Savannah say to you to make you bail on the trail ride? I know you. Spending time with Abby, getting to know Charlie, the opportunity to see me potentially make an ass of myself? You were ready and willing to go on the ride until I went outside to get the horses ready. So, what did my ex-fiancée say to my ex-wife to scare her off the ride?”

Buttercup scoffed. “I wasn’t scared. I figured it was a good opportunity for the girls to get to know their stepmother.”

“And if their stepmother got the chance to get to know them, and didn’t like what she saw?” Jake’s grin was sharp with challenge.

“Then that would be her loss, just like you said.” Buttercup tossed her hair over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows at him. “I don’t know what you’re implying here, Hangman.”

Jake’s answering chuckle sent a small thrill through her. “I’m implying that I spent three months with Savannah, and the only way she would get near a horse would be if there was a risk of her losing face. And the only person who would be willing to put her in that situation is you. But you wouldn’t do that without reason, so c’mon, darlin’. Out with it.”

Buttercup sighed lightly. “She asked me to write her wedding vows for her. Her vows to you.” She could’ve giggled at the way Jake’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, but the whole situation had left her with an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. “It was a power play, plain and simple. So, yeah. Maybe I got the feeling that the girls didn’t like her and would probably make her life hell on the ride, so I might have suggested to Savannah that she should go on the ride because it would make you happy and she would be able to bond with the girls.”

Jake chuckled in spite of himself. “You’re just as diabolical as they are, you know.”

Buttercup shrugged delicately. “They had to get it from somewhere. Too bad for you, I’m an adult too and you can’t dole out any punishment to me.”

Jake shifted on his feet, his quiet chuckle sending tingles through her body as the air around them spiked with…something.

“Not like I haven’t before,” he breathed, mostly to himself.

Buttercup folded her arms across her chest, almost as though she were afraid that her heart would beat right out of her chest. The memories of them, the things they had done together, surged through her brain, her bloodstream, lighting her up like a firefly. But he was still Jake, and any fire between her and Jake had been doused a long time ago, and it had to stay that way. For the good of everyone involved.

“Um,” she swallowed. “Rooster made chili. He said it was some sort of post-trail ride tradition. We were just setting the table when we heard the commotion.”

Jake nodded and patted Firewall’s flank. “Let me just take care of these guys, and I’ll be right in. Make sure you save me a bowl, alright? Charlie would eat the entire pot if we let her.”

Jake groaned as he pushed his bowl away.

“That was your best batch yet, Uncle Roo,” Charlie grinned a sleepy smile, inching towards food coma territory.

“I’m still pissed you couldn’t cook like this when we lived together,” Natasha grumbled, though the smile on her face stole any bite the words might have held.

Bob nodded in agreement. “The whole squadron would be shocked that Mr. Ramen and Burnt Toast has a degree from culinary school.”

Rooster grunted at them. “I only burnt my toast once. You two just won’t let me forget it.”

“More than once,” Javy grinned at him, leaning back in his chair, and Jake smiled. It seemed like, for tonight at least, Javy and Nat had called a truce. They hadn’t glared or shot thinly veiled remarks at each other all night. Of course, they hadn’t spoken or looked at each other either, but Jake found himself grateful for the lack of anything between them.

“Alright, well maybe I should prove my badass kitchen skills then, huh?” Rooster leaned forward, a smirk tugging on his lips. “I think it’s high time for a Daggers Reunion. What do you say? We can celebrate the fact that Jake isn’t gonna marry that absolute pain in the ass he called a fiancée.”

“Rooster!” Buttercup looked shocked. “I know you didn’t like her, but Jake wouldn’t have asked her to marry him if he didn’t have feelings for her.”

Javy scoffed. “More like feelings about his future. Your boy here didn’t want to have an empty nest when Charlie grows up, so he was gonna—ow, shit!” Javy winced as Jake’s foot connected with his knee. “Dude, what the hell?”

Buttercup felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “It’s alright, Jake. I get it. They’re almost 12. In six years or so, they’ll be off and we’ll be left on our own. I don’t know what the future holds for me either, and it’s a scary thought.”

“Don’t worry, Mum,” Abby yawned, leaning against her sister. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Buttercup grinned. “Thank you, baby. But I do think maybe you two should go upstairs to bed. You’ve had a busy day.”

Abby nodded and tugged Charlie off her chair before hugging her mother, then her father.

Charlie followed suit but stilled at the landing of the staircase. “I like Uncle Roo’s idea. A Dagger’s reunion sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Alright, kiddo. We’ll see if we can make it happen,” Jake smiled softly at the girls as they ascended the staircase.

“Can we also go out to dinner tomorrow?” Abby paused a few steps from the top. “Just the four of us? As a family?”

Jake nodded. “Sure, baby. Whatever you want.”

“Okay. Night, Dad. Night, Mum. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” their parents chorused.

“Dude, you’re such a softie now,” Natasha smirked at him over the lip of her wine glass. “They just cost you your fiancée, Bagman. And you’re letting them call the shots.”

Jake fixed her with a look. “I’m not soft, Phoenix.” He grinned. “In fact, everyone else on this ranch have been pulling their weight, except you two. So, I’d really appreciate it if you and Baby On Board would do the dishes while Javy and I go make sure everything is locked up tight.”

Natasha gaped at him. “What about Buttercup? Or Rooster?”

“Rooster cooked,” Jake shrugged. “And Buttercup’s been working on her novel. What have you and Bob been up to? Other than drinking my wine, eating my food, and eating up my Wi-Fi?” Natasha glared and he grinned. “Enjoy. C’mon, Javy.”

The two men rose from their seats and left the room, clearly headed to make sure the ranch was locked up for the night. Rooster rose with a groan and mumbled something about watching the football game in his room, leaving after patting Buttercup on the head.

Natasha looked around at all the dirty dishes and grumbled. “Your husband is such an asshole.”

“Ex,” Buttercup clarified quietly, running her finger over the lip of her glass. “Besides, you shouldn’t have shot your mouth off with the softie comment. You had to have known he’d retaliate.”

“Yeah, but did he have to bring me into it?” Bob sighed, already gathering dishes and taking them into the kitchen.

Buttercup giggled as her family disappeared into the kitchen, the soft sounds of their bickering carrying through the archway as she stared at the darkened front door, waiting for Jake to return.

The next day passed smoothly, and the four occupants of the main house (plus the grumpy uncle living in the attic) fell into a rhythm of sorts. Jake and the girls were out of the house by the time Buttercup woke up, jetlag and a sleepless night weighing on her mind. However, she found a breakfast of cinnamon oatmeal and fruit salad waiting for her on the stove and a box of her favourite tea sitting next to the kettle. Buttercup settled into the desk in her bedroom and cranked out a few more pages of her book, the characters finally deciding to play along and follow the plot, though the plot wasn’t turning out exactly the way she had imagined it. By the time noon came around, she had wandered down into the kitchen, where she helped Rooster prepare barbecue chicken Ceasar wraps for everyone before going out into the ranch and calling her family home to eat. After their meal, Jake stole them all away to the local high school, where he assisted Javy with coaching their football team. Even when they had been together, Buttercup hadn’t been much of a football fan, but she found herself enjoying the time spent in the bleachers, especially when Jake would demonstrate a play for the rookie quarterback (though she would deny that last part to the ends of the earth and back).

By the time they got back to the ranch, the girls were hustling their parents into their bedrooms to change for their family dinner.

“Babe, we didn’t even make a reservation,” Buttercup sighed as Abby shoved her make up bag into her hands and pushed her towards the ensuite bathroom.

“Any place that would dress code me for not wearing a suit would be booked up months in advance, kiddo,” Jake protested as Charlie tossed his navy-blue suit onto his bed.

“Don’t worry about it,” both girls had reassured their parents. “Our aunt and uncles took care of everything.”

The statement had been less than reassuring, but both parents were determined to play ball. Buttercup had conceded to wearing her aqua coloured midi dress (a dress Charlie had insisted she pack once she had seen it in her mother’s closet back in London) and had even put on the diamond necklace that had been a joint Christmas present from her family last year. Jake had begrudgingly put on his navy suit and the silver and blue aviator watch he had bought on a whim a few years back. The girls had dressed up in matching black dresses (no doubt a gift from their Uncle Bob) and ushered them out of the house before they could say goodbye to Bob, Rooster or Natasha. 

“Alright, ladies,” Jake grinned, spinning his car keys around his finger. “Ready to tell me exactly where we’re going?” He started as Charlie clamped onto his wrist, dragging him down the dirt path towards the dude ranch.

“Right this way, old man.”

Jake craned his neck back just in time to see Abby take a much gentler grip on her mother’s arm, steadying her as the heels of her shoes sunk into the dirt.

“Charlie, your mother is going to break her neck out here without much light.” In truth, the sun would be going down in a few hours, but the way it hung low in the sky had shadows painting the path in darkness. Charlie blinked up at him, a challenge gleaming there, and Jake sighed. “Let me go, kid.”

He shook off his daughter’s grip and strode backwards until he could offer Buttercup his elbow. “C’mon, darlin’,” he murmured. “Can’t have you breaking an ankle out here. Don’t want a lawsuit on my hands.”

Buttercup chuckled as she wrapped her arm around his. “Thank you…” she whispered as Abby pranced up the path to join her sister. “Honestly, I don’t know how they come up with so many harebrained schemes.”

“You think they’re scheming?”

She shot Jake a knowing look. “Do you know any family friendly restaurants where the diners dress up like this?” She gestured to their semi-formal clothing. “And if you do know any, are any of them located down this dirt path?”

Jake nodded his head towards her, conceding her point. “They’re your daughters, alright.”

She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “I’m not the scheming parent, thank you very much.”

“Seriously? Wasn’t eloping in Vegas your idea?”

She bit her lip to hide her grin. “That wasn’t a scheme. That was taking advantage of the air show in Vegas and the fact that everyone we loved was there. Besides, that didn’t run the risk of potential bodily harm.”

Jake shook off the zing of pain that ran through him at the memory and forced the smile to remain on his face. “Maybe for you, but I have only the haziest memory of the morning after our wedding. Rooster and Fanboy kept pouring marga-beers down my throat even though you told them to stop.”

Buttercup giggled, and something warm flared in Jake’s chest. “Maybe they get it from them then. Rooster, Javy, and Natasha are all pretty heavy handed with the schemes, aren’t they?”

“Oh, more than you know,” Jake laughed as they approached the gazebo that overlooked the manmade pond. They’d put both features in a few years previous, trying to make the dude ranch more attractive for people who wanted more of a vacation than a chance to prove themselves on a ranch.

“Girls?” Buttercup called as they jumped up onto the gazebo before ducking out of sight. Within seconds, the whole structure was lit up, the tiny fairy lights glittering off the water.

“Speaking of schemes…” Jake muttered, guiding Buttercup over the rocky terrain and up onto the gazebo.

In the center, a small, round table for two sat invitingly, a vase of fresh wildflowers pushed to one side to make room for the plates, cutlery, and linen napkins that waited to be used.

“Hoo boy,” Buttercup whispered as he pulled out one of the wrought iron chairs and helped her sit comfortably.

“Girls, what are you doing?” Jake turned to find them standing by the stairs of the gazebo.

“We…wanted to thank you!” Charlie grinned. “Y’know, for being so nice about us switching places.”

“And blackmailing you,” Abby added.

“And blackmailing you,” Charlie nodded her agreement. “Oh! And we wanted to apologize for chasing off Savannah.”

“And you decided that a romantic dinner for two was the best way to do that?” Buttercup’s face was filled with such bemusement that Jake had to laugh.

“Well, if you’re going to coparent, you need to be able to get along,” Abby chirped cheerfully. “Consider this our way of trying to make that happen!”

“We’re going to leave you to eat,” Charlie grinned. “I really hope you can make it through a simple dinner without arguing. That would bode really well for all of us.”

Jake groaned as the girls skipped away, then groaned again when a shadowy figure stepped into the gazebo, carrying two serving trays.

“Hey man, don’t groan at me. Those two little demons are your spawn,” Javy muttered as he set the two trays of food on the table. “They’re better at finding information and using it to their advantage than the freakin’ Navy.”

Natasha scoffed as she stepped up beside Javy, brandishing a bottle of wine in each hand. “If they weren’t so damn cute, I’d want to kill them.”

Buttercup blinked at them. “You got sucked into another one of their schemes?”

Natasha shrugged. “Apparently, I need to watch what I say when Abby and I are watching trashy TV and eating junk food. The kid’s got Fort Knox as a memory. Don’t know what his excuse is though,” she added, jerking her head at Javy. “Now, do you want red or white? Because Rooster said either will work with the food, but Abby will throw a hissy fit if I don’t play along.”

“They got Bradshaw into this too?” Jake turned to Javy, who shrugged.

“You two somehow managed to raise two extremely intelligent blackmailers, with zero input from the other person and an ocean between you. It’d be impressive if it wasn’t kinda terrifying.” Javy sighed. “Natasha and I will be watching from the cabin. Buttercup, as much as you may want to, please don’t drown him in the lake.”

Buttercup stifled a giggle as their friends strolled away. “Well, at least they’re not arguing anymore,” she mused before lifting the lid off her meal and smiling. “Penne a la vodka with a side salad. How did they know?”

Jake gulped and hoped the dim lighting did enough to hide the redness in his cheeks. They had gone for Italian food for their first date, and that’s what they had both ordered. Buttercup because it was her favourite, and Jake because he’d been so taken with her that he had just said “Same” so that they could get back to their conversation without the waiter being present.

“I might’ve mentioned it once, I guess,” he murmured, taking the lid off his dish and picking up his fork.

“Should we toast or something?”

Jake smiled softly and picked up his glass of red wine. “To…fresh starts?”

Buttercup smiled so sweetly at him that his chest ached with it. “Yeah, fresh starts sound good.”

Buttercup couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so hard. Her sides ached and her cheeks hurt and she desperately hoped that she had put on waterproof mascara because, otherwise, she would have racoon eyes from the tears of laughter she had shed.

She had to keep reminding herself that it wasn’t real. This was the part of her relationship with Jake that had been easy. Falling in love with him had been as easy as breathing. He could make her laugh until she cried, and he would hold her while she cried until he could make her laugh. He made her want to pull her hair out, but one look at those bright green eyes and that sinful smile, and she would forget all about why he frustrated her. She always counted herself lucky that he was there to frustrate her. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that she would rather run the gamut of emotions with Jake Seresin than risk not feeling anything so strongly with another person.

Loving him was easy. Making it work with him was another story. And now, they had two young daughters who were depending on them. She wasn’t about to risk letting them down again. Still, she found she couldn’t quite keep her guard all the way up around him.

“…and that is why I will never take Charlie to another baseball game,” Jake finished his story to Buttercup’s peals of laughter.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you two,” she giggled breathlessly.

“Hey, she’s half you. She doesn’t get those nerves of steel from me.”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “Oh please. How many confirmed air-to-air kills do you have under your belt?”

“Hey! That’s totally different. Having nerves of steel in the air while facing down enemy aircraft is completely different from having your six-year-old daughter try to beat the shit out of the opposing team’s mascot because it kinda looked like a monster from her nightmare.”

Buttercup snorted. “I don’t know about that. Sounds like you were both protecting yourselves with those nerves of steel.”

“You were too,” Jake said quietly, taking a sip of his wine.

“When?”

“When you left…” Buttercup froze, and Jake almost regretted saying anything. Almost. “It took guts to leave. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but you were doing what was right for you.”

“I…” Buttercup took a fortifying sip of wine. “I hope you know I didn’t leave just because of you. I mean, I hope you know that I didn’t leave to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Emboldened by the wine, Jake reached out and took her hand. “C’mon, darlin’. Of course I know that. I know you never wanted to hurt me, and I know it felt like you were ripping your own heart out to leave Charlie behind.” He gave her hand a firm squeeze and something squeezed in his heart when she returned the gesture.

“I wish the pandemic had never happened,” Buttercup sighed. “It would’ve been so much easier to keep to the custody schedule if air travel hadn’t become so dangerous.”

Jake nodded. “I wish the court lady hadn’t transcribed our phone numbers wrong.”

Jake had called his lawyer earlier in the day and found that both of their numbers had been written wrong in the paperwork. It had happened to a few other clients, and that’s how they had come to realize that the court stenographer had been drinking on the job.

Buttercup scoffed. “Yeah…the odds were stacked against us at every turn.”

“You really think so?”

Buttercup blinked at him. “You don’t think so? Your deployments, my diagnosis, the pandemic, the clerical error? You don’t think that was fate stamping a big red X on our family?”

Jake leaned forward, close enough to her that she could smell the sharp tang of his cologne and the deep woodsy undertones that were pure Jake. “I think we had a hell of a lot going for us but neither of us knew how to handle the bumps in the road and we fell apart. Tell me, Buttercup. If we knew then what we know now, would we have made it?”

The question made her pause, made everything inside of her freeze. If her past self had all of her present knowledge, would they have made it? Would they have been able to dig through the tunnel of bullshit and make it out clean on the other side? She could imagine it. The open communication, the therapy, the fights they’d have, but together, not against each other.

She shivered at that imaging and met his green gaze. “I’m getting cold,” she whispered. “I think it’s time we go inside.”

Jake sighed but nodded, taking off his suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

Knowing that Javy and Nat were on dish duty, he offered Buttercup his elbow and slowly guided her down the path, the silvery light of the moon illuminating mere feet in front of them. She leaned against him more now than she had when they had initially walked the path, but Jake knew that was the jetlag and wine working against her.

“We’ll have to thank Rooster for dinner,” she mumbled as they strolled. “That was probably the best penne I’ve had since—shit!” Her heel caught on a rock in the path and she pitched forward. Quick as a flash of lightning, Jake had her secure against him, one arm wrapped around her waist and one pressing between her shoulder blades.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay,” he murmured into her hair, only realizing how close they were when the scent of Hawaiian orchid wafted over him.

“S-sorry,” she whispered, leaning into his chest more as she steadied herself. She looked up and met his gaze, their noses almost brushing. All it would take was a tilt of her head, and they would be—

Buttercup abruptly pulled away from him, leaning down to take off her shoes and dangling them between her fingers.

“Sorry,” she murmured again. “I didn’t mean to…I can’t…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake’s hand warmed the middle of her back. “No harm done, right?”

Buttercup gulped back the knot in her throat as she nodded. “Yeah…no harm done.”

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[luvashli]

CHASE THE HEAT

-> Y/n‘s motorcycle/ Enhypen‘s cars

Synopsis -> Y/N, a daring motorcycle racer, catches the attention of seven competitive car racers called ENHYPEN. Driven by lust and rivalry, the boys chase her both on and off the track, but as the tension builds, their obsession with her grows. Will they see her for more than just a prize, or will their dangerous desires consume them?

Y/N’s Motorcycle

Model: Ducati Panigale V4 S

Why: The Ducati Panigale is sleek, powerful, and undeniably badass. Its aggressive design and impressive speed match Y/N's bold and daring persona.

Features to Highlight:

A jet-black finish with crimson accents. Exceptional speed and handling, allowing Y/N to perform insane stunts and maneuvers during races. A throaty, roaring engine sound that turns heads wherever she goes. Y/N’s bike represents her independence and her ability to stand out in a world dominated by car racers. It’s fast, lethal, and a statement piece, just like her.

ENHYPEN’s Cars

Each car reflects their individual personality and racing style:

Jungwon (Leader)

Car: Nissan GT-R R35

Color: Midnight blue with silver detailing.

Why: The GT-R is a precise, powerful machine, perfect for a strategist like Jungwon. It’s reliable yet intimidating, just like him.

Racing Style: Methodical and calculated, Jungwon rarely makes mistakes.

Heeseung (Veteran)

Car: Porsche 911 Turbo S

Color: Metallic gray with red accents.

Why: A refined, high-performance car that suits Heeseung’s calm and experienced demeanor.

Racing Style: Smooth and consistent, relying on his years of experience to win.

Jay (The Showman)

Car: Chevrolet Corvette C8 Stingray

Color: Bright yellow with black racing stripes.

Why: Flashy, bold, and attention-grabbing—just like Jay. The Corvette’s mix of power and style fits his personality perfectly.

Racing Style: Thrives on risky moves and showing off during races.

Jake (The Heart)

Car: Ford Mustang Shelby GT500

Color: Deep green with white stripes.

Why: A Mustang is a classic, reliable car with a wild streak, mirroring Jake’s charming yet intense nature.

Racing Style: Balanced and adaptive, he races with both heart and skill.

Sunghoon (The Perfectionist)

Car: Audi R8 V10 Plus

Color: Glossy black with subtle chrome accents.

Why: The Audi R8’s sleek design and precision performance are ideal for Sunghoon’s meticulous personality.

Racing Style: Laser-focused on perfection, he rarely takes unnecessary risks.

Sunoo (The Charmer)

Car: Lamborghini Huracán EVO

Color: Pearl white with gold accents.

Why: The Huracán EVO is sleek, stylish, and undeniably powerful—perfect for Sunoo’s sharp and unpredictable nature. It retains an air of charm while exuding luxury and speed.

Racing Style: Agile and precise, he knows how to make bold moves without sacrificing control, keeping everyone guessing.

Ni-ki (The Wildcard)

Car: Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat

Color: Matte black with glowing orange details.

Why: The Hellcat’s raw power and rebellious vibe perfectly match Ni-ki’s fearless and unpredictable nature.

Racing Style: Aggressive and daring, he pushes limits like no one else.

Note: i tried to find pictures as close as possible… hopefully it helps at least a little bit for imagining the cars while reading. :)

Masterlist chase the heat

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[worldofheroes]

Hii

Can I request a young maverick × reader where reader had a fight with her parents (she still lives with them and she's super angry and freaking out, pete goes to her and he says something like "let's get out of here, sweetheart" and he takes her to a road trip and they have a little adventure? thank uuuu💗

Hi all I am alive!!! Please enjoy!! ❤️❤️

Wings of Comfort

pete maverick mitchell x gn!reader

summary: after an argument with your parents, you look to maverick for comfort

warnings: fluff, parent/child tension

wc: 776

The door slammed behind you as you stormed out of your parents' house, your heart pounding in your chest. The argument was still fresh, their words echoing in your head like a relentless barrage. It wasn’t the first time tensions had flared, but tonight, it felt different. Everything you tried to explain—your choices, your dreams—seemed to fall on deaf ears, and the disappointment in their voices had been too much to bear.

You didn’t have anywhere else to go, no safe haven to retreat to, but one thought crossed your mind: Maverick.

You find your way towards his house, not even thinking about how to get there. You’ve walked this route a million times before, tonight is no different.

The sun continues to lower in the sky when you knock on his front door.

Like he was waiting for you, Maverick opens the door just seconds later.

“Are you okay?” Maverick asks. He’s always been able to read you within seconds of seeing your face.

You shake your head, holding back tears.

Maverick opens the door wider and steps aside, allowing you to enter. As soon as the door closes, he wraps you in a hug.

“I got you,” he whispers.

You can’t hold it in any longer. A few tears escape, and Maverick tightens his grip.

"Let it out," he murmurs. "You don’t have to hold anything back here."

You let out a shaky breath, pressing your face into his chest. He smells like leather and old jet fuel, but there’s something calming about it. You feel safe here.

“I just… I don’t know what to do,” you admit, your voice breaking.

“I know. But we’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

He doesn’t pull away, just holds you, his hands warm on your back.

“You’ve always had my back, Maverick,” you say, a bit hoarse.

“Always will,” he replies, his tone steady.

For a while, there’s just the sound of your breathing. His hands move in soothing circles on your back. You close your eyes, letting the silence settle around you.

After a moment, Maverick steps back, but only just enough to look at you. “You want to talk about it?”

You shake your head. “Not yet.”

“Then how about we get out of here, sweetheart?”

“Mav, it’s Tuesday evening.” You wipe your nose with the back of your hand.

“So? Let’s go for a ride, get your mind off things.”

You nod, wiping your wet face dry. Maverick takes your hand and leads you back outside, and onto his bike.

The roar of the engine overtakes your thoughts as you wrap your arms around Maverick. He takes off down the road.

You rest your head against his back, watching the scenery rush by for a while before he comes to a stop.

“Come on,” he says, getting off the bike and offering you his hand.

You take it and he leads you down to the beach, where you walk hand in hand. Neither one of you says anything, but each other’s presence is comforting enough.

“You know I love you, right?” Maverick’s voice breaks the silence.

You nod. “Of course I do.” Pause. “I love you too.”

Maverick smiles at your words.

"And.. thanks for this," you say softly, your voice still hoarse. "I didn’t know what I needed, but this… this helps."

Maverick glances at you from the corner of his eye, his lips curving into a half-smile. "Sometimes you just need to get away from everything for a while. Clear your head."

You nod. “Definitely.”

“Feeling better?”

“I guess so,” you admit.

“Good,” he smiles again. “I think I better get you back before your parents freak out.”

“They don’t care where I am.”

“Everything they do for you is out of love.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen it, sweetheart. I know when you get back home tonight they’re gonna apologize and all three of you are going to care deeper for each other.”

“How do you know these things?” you half tease him.

“Because I wish I had these opportunities with my own parents. I’ve seen it with Goose’s family. I see it in yours. It always works out in the end.”

“You are wise beyond your years, Mitchell.”

“You’re the first person to ever say that to me,” Maverick laughs.

You laugh too, happy to be feeling better.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Maverick brings your back to your parents’ house, giving you a quick kiss before you walk away.

You walk into the house, where your parents are watching TV, and they turn to you with their faces full of love.

That Pete Mitchell was right.

[marsdreamworld]

How Sweet It is to be Loved by You - LN4 x reader:

Mars’ Notes: I’ve never ever written anything like this before, but after rambling at @love-belle for a stupid amount of time, i thought why not? surprised it ended up being for lando and not charles but if this goes well i might j start writing a bit more!! anyways, i’m excited, please lmk what you think <333

Warnings: None!! super super fluffy :)

Description: Lando comes home to you, and everything is ok again.

————————————————————

Lando was exhausted. He loved his job, the roaring of engines, the loud shouts that always seemed to accompany the mechanics as they made any pre-race adjustments to his Mclaren, the screams of fans in the grandstands and during fan stages, but god, sometimes all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around your waist, bury his face in your neck and never leave. You were his peace, his moment of quiet in an otherwise hectic day. He missed you, and you were his rock during race weekends. He had spent the last week wishing you were with him and cheering him on from your spot in the garage.

“Lando? You ok, mate?”

Danny’s voice broke him out of his stupor, bringing his mind back to the private jet he was currently sat in, accompanied by the older driver. Just three more hours, and you can hug her all you want, he thought to himself.

“Yeah, fine, mate. Just wondering what’s for dinner.” he said, a smile on his face.

“If you say so” comes the reply, accompanied by a bright, dimpled smile.

————————————

After a hectic run through security and the throng of fans that were waiting diligently for him at the gate, Lando had finally made it home, his hands trembling at the prospect of finally kissing you again as he pushed his key into the lock of your shared flat.

“Lando? Is that you, my love?”

Your voice floated through the hallway, and he visibly relaxed - he was finally home, he was finally with you, and there was nowhere he’d rather be.

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me. Were you hoping for someone else?” he teased, seeing you emerge from your bedroom, clad only in one of his favourite Quadrant hoodies, and fluffy socks, your hair falling around your face in messy waves, silver wire-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of your nose. You padded over, soft footfalls echoing, until you were stood in front of him.

“Oh shush and hug me, you muppet.”

He closed the gap between you, and wrapped his arms around your waist, melting into you.

“God, I missed you”, he said, his voice muffled by your neck. You giggled and reached up to hug him back, carding your hands through his hair and leaving sweet kisses wherever you could reach.

“I missed you more, love. Would you mind helping me with something quickly?”, you mumbled into his hair, “I know you’re tired, and it’s been a long day, I just think my brain’s gone to mush and I can barely read what I’m writing.”

He lifted his head, and simply smiled at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “That’s what I’m here for, remember? Moral support and grammar police” he said, winking at you in an effort to make you laugh. You looked stressed, and he could tell you had been working away at your essay for far too long already, the pressure weighing heavily on your shoulders. “I’m assuming it’s another essay for class?”

“Mhmm, the professor decided it would be a good time to assign a stupid essay two weeks before midterms.” Your eye roll and answering nod was all it took for Lando to toe his shoes off, leaving his bags and coat by the door before he dragged you back into the bedroom, dramatically flipping into the double bed that occupied the corner, landing amongst the multitude of stuffed toys that had migrated to his side of the bed in the short time he was away.

“Right then, Ms. L/N, get your pretty arse over here and read me this essay.” he said, posing and putting on his best posh British accent, earning a laugh out of you. This was what Lando lived for, these quiet moments of domesticity where all he could hear was your laugh and he could revel in the fact that it was him, him who made you laugh and him who had the pleasure of hearing it.

You grabbed your notebook from the desk you had set up opposite the bed, claiming that you worked better when you knew Lando was close to you, and walked over to the bed, climbing in and placing his head in your lap.

A reporter had once asked him a question along the lines of “If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?” He had, of course, answered with the typical “on a race track”, the answer that wouldn’t have the Mclaren PR team screaming at him post press conference, but if he really had to pick, he would say with you. Anywhere with you was where he wanted to be, but he felt so at peace here, in your bedroom, with his head on your lap and your hand in his hair, your voice soft and sweet as you read him the opening paragraphs of your midterm essay.

Lando nuzzled further into your thighs, your nails now scratching across his scalp in a way that made him feel boneless. He could feel his eyes slowly slipping closed, the warmth and comfort lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

———————-

You were three paragraphs in when you stumbled on your words, struggling to understand a sentence you’d written.

“See, that’s the sentence I really don’t get. It just sounds so chunky and I really have no idea how to make it flow more, you know? I know it needs to be technical, it is an engineering essay after all, but it just sounds so hard to read and I don’t know how to make it sound better.”

You waited for Lando to tell you that you’d made a silly grammar mistake, or that you just had to split the sentence in two to make it more digestible, but you were met with silence. Looking down at your lap, you saw Lando asleep, smile painted on his face, a hand placed on your thigh, grip tight as though he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t move.

Lando had come into your life in the most unexpected way you could have imagined - cliché, but unexpected. You’d been waiting in line at a coffee shop, needing your daily dose of caffeine before your 9AM university lecture, and he had walked straight into you, a steaming hot Americano cradled in his hands, which had eventually made quick work of staining the cream bodysuit you had chosen for the day. He’d apologised countless times, turning back to grab a stack of tissues, even going so far as to attempt to rub the stain off, but had only succeeded in making it worse. You’d simply laughed, and told him that he really should go order another coffee, before the morning rush took over. He’d stared at you, open mouthed and speechless, before stammering through an affirmative and walking away. The next 5 minutes were spent throwing glances at each other through the crowd of people occupying the store, before he broke and asked for your number, stating that he at least owed you a new shirt, and perhaps even a date? It had been natural, and felt right from the moment he picked you up at 8 the following Friday, dressed in a suit and armed with roses.

You took one last look at the essay in your hands, and made the incredibly easy decision to call it a day. You placed the stack of papers on the bedside table, shifting in order to reach, only to have Lando grip onto you tighter, a mumble of “stay” escaping his pouted lips. Your heart clenched, and you couldn’t help but coo back that you weren’t going anywhere, my love, go back to sleep. You cleared as much of the bed as you could without disturbing your boy, and leaned back into the pillows you’d stacked behind you earlier in the day, Lando nuzzling further into your stomach, whining until you bring your hand back to his curls. As you shift, Lando reaches out to wind his hands around your waist, pulling you closer even in his sleep. You smile to yourself, and turn the small lamp on the side table off - your boy was home, and everything was alright.

[mickandmusings]

iv. so high school

part of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: With Honey and Jake's senior year coming to a quick end, Honey is more than thrilled to dream about her upcoming days in the Austin sun as a future UT student. Blindly, and perhaps naively, she assumes Jake will be at her side for another four years. Jake has a secret he's refused to tell her, and the weight of it threatens to collapse his chest. He knows it's the right decision, but he can't help but think of the hurt it will cause the girl he loves.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: fluffy->angsty, building up to some major angst, folks, buckle up, also two posts in one week is crazy, just let me be mentally ill thanks <3

-

'And there he goes! #86, Senior Jake Seresin catches the ball from #19, Senior Ethan Williams, and runs towards the end zone for the touchdown and...it is good! That's a win for the Haven High Bobcats! The Blue and Gold Nation is officially in the playoffs!'

The crowd roars in Honey's ears as she jumps up and claps in elation at Jake's score-saving play. Haven had been behind by just a handful of points, and he'd won the game just before the buzzer sounded for the end of the fourth quarter. She smiled as she watched his teammates pummel over him, lifting him above their heads as he slings off his helmet, sweaty blonde hair shining under stadium lights. His Hollywood smile is blinding, and although she can't hear it, she can see him laugh.

Honey turns to Janet and Jacob Sr. moving next to her, both of them picking up their stadium seats and filing out of their row in the bleachers. Honey picks up Jake's football sweatshirt and slings it over her shoulders. She sported a solid navy long-sleeve under Jake's spare gold jersey she wore, but Jake had insisted she bring another layer. He had been right, of course, she had shivered through the first half of the game, but after halftime, she had broken into a sweat cheering Jake on. She trailed behind Janet, making their way back to the parking lot to meet up with her small-town football star boyfriend. Honey chatted pleasantly with Janet and Jacob Sr. as she stood next to their truck, telling them about she and Jake's after-game plans. They had decided on their usual post-game dinner at The Basket, then they'd slip off into one of the empty pastures far from the farmhouse and simply enjoy some alone time, not that the grandparents needed to know that detail. She waved them goodbye when they parted to their truck, and Honey walked across the parking lot to Jake’s truck. She leaned against the side of it, waiting for him to arrive. She didn’t bother to pay attention to the stares in her direction or the whispers filling the air, Jake was the senior football star hanging out with her, so she’d expected the push back.

She heard him before she saw him, his hearty laugh filling the air. He’s fist-bumping and bro-hugging his teammates before he makes his way over to her. His smile widens, throwing down his duffel at her feet and lifting her up off the ground, kissing her lips. Honey's own smile appears, lightly chastising him to put her down. When he does, he notes her appearance, fondly looking at his own numbers across her torso, but concerned she’d be freezing.

"I told you to wear that sweatshirt, not tie it 'round your waist. You're gonna end up with a head cold and you're gonna be all mopey and miserable."

Honey gave him a pointed look.

"Okay, Dad, cool your jets. I'll put it on when we get to the truck."

He opens her door and she slides in, and he opens the back door to throw his duffel bag on the floorboard. Honey waits for him to slide around to his spot at the front, but a voice calls out his name.

"Hey, Seresin! You comin' out tonight, man? Everyone's coming down to my place, gonna have a bonfire."

Ethan Williams' voice calls after him. Honey listens in as they speak, her eyes cutting awkwardly to her hands, fiddling with the hem of the jersey she's wearing. Truthfully, all Honey wanted to do was grab their dinner, go back home and plop into Jake's bed, and sleep until noon the next day. She understood why Jake would want to go, Ethan was captain of the football team, quarterback, and Jake's friend. It was their senior year, the last chance to soak up any childish memories before their impending adulthood. Jake was funny, the life of any party, but Honey was still learning to adapt to that sort of environment. Jake cut his green eyes to look at Honey, raising an eyebrow as if to ask what she wanted to do. Honey nodded slowly, a forced smile plastered across her face. Honey hated parties, especially ones like these, where almost everyone in attendance was friends with one another, while she was just there by association. She took a deep breath and calmed herself, it’d be fine, she’d go along with Jake for a few hours, let him laugh and mingle, and then they’d go back home. There she would have him to herself.

“Yeah, follow you there?” Jake replied back quickly. Ethan nods and walks toward his own truck. Jake quickly slings into the driver’s side of the truck, cranking it, and waiting for Ethan to roll out.

“Honey, you say the word and I’m blowing this party, I know-“

“No, no,” her voice is confident, at least to her. “These are your friends, and you just took us to the playoffs, Jake. You should celebrate, you deserve it.”

He gives her a wide grin, one that makes her heart swell with ridiculous adoration for the boy across from her.

-

A few hours later, Honey finds herself sitting on a bale of hay a few yards away from the bonfire, nursing a beer she hadn’t taken more than two sips of. She didn’t care for the taste of beer to begin with, often starting one and letting Jake finish it, but this one tasted particularly sour. It likely had nothing to do with the beer at all, her attitude had been sour for the past hour or so, and she was more than ready to go home. She had sat and listened to the other player's girlfriends gossip amongst themselves-who was sleeping with who, who cheated on who-typical high school gossip. She had tuned them out mostly, her eyes following Jake as he laughed with his friends. His eyes would meet hers occasionally, checking on her without having to say a word. She wasn't sour at him for having fun, she had wanted him to have this, childish teenage memories to look back on ten years from now. It wasn't his fault she wasn't having fun, it was hers, she should've tried to talk to other people in school these past four years. She remained relatively uninterested in their blabber, but when she heard something that perked her ears, she simply couldn't stop listening in.

“I know you all saw those scouts tonight, they were hard to miss in that bright orange.”

“Of course I did, they’re always at Haven games when the season is good. The question is, who are they scoutin'? Ethan has already announced he’s going to A&M, they’re not there for him.”

“They’re at the games for Jake Seresin, duh! He hasn’t accepted a scholarship anywhere, it’s got to be him. None of the other guys are good enough, my own boyfriend included.”

“Well there’s only one person who would know his plans, you just have to ask her,” Brett’s girlfriend Haley spoke. She was turning to Honey, her pale blue eyes kind. “Hey, Honey, why don’t you come sit over here with us?”

Honey stilled, the condensation on her beer can making her hands cold. Haley had always been kind to her, their boyfriends were close friends, Brett was one of Jake's few friends that spoke to her, and it made for easy camaraderie. Before she could overthink it, her feet carried her over to the group of girls, sinking onto a hay bale next to Haley.

“So, Honey,” Sarah Grace, Ethan’s girlfriend, started. “Where does Jake plan on signing to?”

Honey’s mouth felt as if she’d been eating cotton, her eyes wide. She, truthfully, had no idea. It wasn’t something Jake had ever talked to her about. She’d assumed he would go to UT Austin, it was his preferred team, and it wasn’t too far from Haven. It was Honey’s future school, hopefully, because she’d follow him anywhere.

“Um,” she started. “I don’t really know, but if I had to guess, probably UT Austin. I mean, he’s been a Longhorns fan since before I knew him, and that’s where I’ve sent my early decision application, so..." She ends her statement with a shrug. She feels like everyone’s eyes are on her, feeling a blush forming at the unusual attention.

“No matter where he goes, he’ll be a star, so it’s a win-win for you either way.” Haley smiles encouragingly, now turning her full attention to Honey. “On a more important topic, have you picked out your color for prom? Because Brett and I are doing pink, which he hates, but I’ve had my heart on this dress since freshman year so-“

Honey listens to Haley, but her mind is far from prom and dress colors. How was it this far into their senior year and she had yet to talk about college plans with Jake? She had just assumed they’d go to UT Austin together, but maybe she’d read it all wrong. What if he didn’t want her to follow him?

“-so you should come with us, we’re all going together, it would be fun, having another girl around.”

Honey’s eyes widened, realizing Haley was inviting her to come prom dress shopping. Her eyes widened, she’d never been invited anywhere, not sincerely at least.

“Um, yeah, that sounds great. I-I’ll be there.”

Haley lets out a squeal of excitement as she smiles, making Honey smile too. She’d spent the rest of her night engaged in conversation with the other football girlfriends, finding herself laughing as the girls welcomed her warmly. Jake watched from afar, smiling to himself as he watched Honey's body language begin to settle in the small group of girls. He gave her space to socialize amongst them, proud of her for stepping even a foot out of her comfort zone. He finds her a few hours later, bidding the other girls a swift farewell before sweetly grabbing her hand and whisking her away back to the truck, back home. As the pair walked away into the distance, the girls began a new discussion.

“So, who wants to bet on how long those two have been more than friends?” Sarah Grace starts, her eyes still on the couple fading into the distance.

“Jake Seresin and her? Listen, she’s a sweet girl but they’re polar opposites. No way they've got somethin' going on. They’re nothing but friends.”

“Bullshit, she’s worn his jersey every single game, and he’s always got his arm around her. And those eyes he gives her? No way they’re not at least fooling around.” Ethan's girlfriend pipes up.

“Rumor has it she lives with the Seresin’s cause her mom’s a deadbeat. I mean they share a bed and everything, I bet they fuck like rabbits. We all know how well-off the Seresin's are, not to mention the influence that comes along with it, what if she's like, baby trapping him or something? I'm calling it now, she'll be pregnant before prom."

“You’re all wrong,” Haley finally piped up, shaking her head at the ignorant girl's statement. “Those two have been dating since sophomore year, are you truly that blind? For God's sake, have you ever seen Jake let anyone else borrow his clothes like that? Fuck no. Not to mention his obsession with touching her every time she's in his vicinity-they hold hands, she'll intertwine her arm around his, sleep on his shoulder-they're not hiding it. You just didn't notice it because you don't think someone shy like Honey could pull a ladies man like Jake Seresin. You should’ve seen them at Brett’s New Year’s Eve party last year, I swear Jake wasn’t going to let her breathe he kissed her so hard. Those two are in love, crazy about each other, but Jake is…not like other guys. He'd never let something like that happen to Honey. He isn't the idea you have in your head, at least not with her."

-

Jake cranks the truck and swings his arm around the headrest, his head peering out the back glass to back out. His hand lands on Honey’s thigh when he finally gets on the road. It's routine, his hand always rests against her when they ride together. She made no move to scoot closer, and when Jake looked at her, he expected to see her eyes shutting with sleep, but he instead found them wide awake, eyebrows pinched in thought. He sighs, he should’ve known from her being abnormally quiet when it was just the two of them.

“I can feel you thinking all the way over here. Talk to me. What's the matter, baby?” Jake’s voice is calm, soothing, as his thumb rubs lazy circles on her leg. Honey looks over at him, catches a glimpse of his concerned eyes, and looks back out her window before responding:

“There were scouts there tonight, from UT Austin. Word around the party says they were there to watch you.”

Jake shrugs, confused at where the conversation was heading. “That's a bad thing?”

Honey shakes her head. “No, it’s just, Haley and the other girls were asking if you were hoping to go to UT, and I realized I couldn’t even tell them, because I didn’t know. I-I even put my early decision application there, because I just thought that was where you’d go. It occurred to me I didn't even ask, I just thought we'd go together.”

As Jake processes her statement, he swallows thickly. He knew Honey's college plans, and as much as he'd wanted to follow her, he knew in the depth of his heart he wouldn't be following her to Austin. He had no aspirations for a traditional college route, and had already sent in his application to the Naval Academy. He hadn't told her, he hadn't told anyone, with the exception of their guidance counselor.

“I, um, I’m sendin' my application to UT too, just trying to scope out some other options, ya know? If I get hurt during a game or somethin', I’m over, I’ll lose my scholarship. I-I mean, my grades are there, but they’re not perfect, not like yours. Grandpa Seresin, he went straight to the Naval Academy after high school, paid for everything until he retired to the farm. Danny did too, played football there and everything. I just, need somethin' with some padding like that, just in case, so I’ve been holding out on a definite answer.”

His answer hadn’t been a complete lie, just, not the truth either. Honey nods in understanding, satisfied with his answer for now. Finally, she scoots over in the seat and leans her head on his shoulder, burying her head into the crook of his neck. She’s comfortable, content.

“That's good, just know I’ll follow you anywhere. I couldn’t imagine not having you around for four years, no way I'd survive without you."

Jake gulps, his heart breaking in half in his chest. His mind raced, if he told her the truth, it would kill her. There was no guarantee he'd be accepted into the Academy, but he hadn't even told her that he'd tried for it. He knew he had to tell her, but he kept it to himself for now, trying to enjoy their moments of being seniors together. He leans down and kisses her head, his mind swimming with thoughts of how he would tell her if he got accepted into the Naval Academy. He could already picture her big eyes swimming with tears, the fake smile she’d plaster across her face for his sake, telling him how proud she was, and how she would be hurting on the inside the entire time. He didn’t want that, he couldn’t face that, so, as fall turned to winter and then winter into spring, he’d neglected telling her completely.

-

When her early acceptance to UT Austin came in December, Honey had been all smiles and excited rambles, and that night, as they ate the celebratory dinner Janet made Honey, his stomach turned with guilt. Come the spring, when everyone else was announcing acceptances, he would no longer be able to lie to her, to defer the truth. But he pushed it to the side, letting both himself and Honey focus on all the exciting things that came with the last few months of high school, but they passed quicker than he wanted them to. They’d made it into the playoffs, won a few rounds before their luck run out and the football season was over. Christmas was done and over before he blinked, and his heart all but shattered at Honey’s blinding smile when she opened her very first orange Longhorns sweatshirt of her own-a gift from his grandparents. Honey had let her shoulders fall in happiness, tossing off Jake's Cowboys sweatshirt she was wearing to throw it over her head. She’d cried and squeezed both Janet and Jacob Sr. so tightly, but Jake could not smile, his entire chest was tight with words he couldn’t say. So when he opened an identical box with the same sweatshirt in a bigger size, he had to wipe on a smile and swallow the lump in his throat, because everyone still believed he’d be tagging along with Honey come August, his grandmother included. He had spilled his secret months before to his grandfather, who listened earnestly, but gave him a raised eyebrow look.

"This got anythin' to do with Danny?"

Jake had sighed, choosing not to say anything. Nothing got past his grandfather. His Uncle Danny had served in the Navy his entire life, as long as Jake had been alive. When Uncle Danny hadn't come back from his last post with the Navy, it had sent the entire family into shambles. It wasn't until months later that they'd found out the truth-he'd been shot down and lost his life.

Jacob Sr. had only nodded his head, sort of shocked by Jake's sudden announcement, but not surprised. His grandson had always had a flair for the unexpected.

"He'd be proud of you, kid. Just, the truth is better out than in. I know you haven't told Honey, that sweet girl deserves the truth, Jake. And you better tell ya Granny too, if she finds out from someone other than you, she'll kill you before you even get to Maryland. Believe me, women always find out the truth."

Jake suddenly wished he would've taken that advice sooner.

For the entirety of the next few months, he burned as he listened to Honey talk about them at UT: the apartments they'd move into together, joining him for football games, being his tag-along at parties, and him joining her in the library to help her study. She was so excited, happier than Jake had seen her in, well, ever-she was getting away from everything: her mother who she despised, this small town that felt suffocating at times, the people who talked shit about her, but she’d still have him, the one person she truly loved. She'd make him stop and let her check the mail each day as they came in from school, waiting for an acceptance letter for him that would never come. Honey would give him a sweet smile and assure him it would come sooner or later. He wouldn’t burst that bubble for-he couldn't-at least not yet.

-

As the colder days turned into a particularly hot April, Jake had five weeks before graduation, meaning he had T-minus thirty-five days to tell her. He had prolonged it this far, because after he told her the news, it was likely he’d never see her again. He'd received his Naval Academy acceptance letter two weeks ago, and as proud of himself as he was, he knew the disaster that would lay ahead of him, all at his own hand. He had broken down on the couch the night that Honey was out with Haley and Sarah Grace prom dress shopping, and his grandmother had gotten the truth from him. Janet had wrapped the boy in her arms, the boy who now towered over her, as if he was a toddler again and let him cry, knowing his decision had been made, but it didn't mean it would be easy.

Instead of focusing on the imminent pain, he spent his free time working on the old farm house on the south side of the farm. The house was nice, built years ago for a group of farm hands hired for the summer, but was in desperate need of a deep clean and some minor fixes. He had thought it’d be a great place for Honey and her new friends (Haley and Sarah Grace) to get ready for prom together, and a place he and Honey could decompress afterwards without any prying eyes, or worrying about waking up Janet or Jacob Sr. His grandparents had thought it was a good idea, happy to see Honey bring around more friends than just their grandson. As he scrubbed the floors and moved furniture into the house that week, his mind raced with ideas of how he would tell her, and, more importantly, when. After an internal pep-talk, he decided on telling her after prom, after the last fun before graduation was over. He wanted her to have one good night after her hell of a high school experience, but he needed to get the truth off his chest, and fast.

-

For now, he's wrapping his fist against the wooden door of her bedroom across the hall from his. He stares back at the Dawson's Creek poster plastered across it as he speaks.

“Honey, can I come in?”

“Hold on!” Her voice pipes up, and a shuffling noise is evident behind the door. “Okay! Now you can.”

Jake pushes open the creaky door and notices nothing out of place, which makes him raise a brow.

“What was all that racket about?”

“I had to hide my prom dress, I don’t want you to see it before prom night, it’s supposed to be a surprise! Haley said it was a ‘crime’ to look that good, so I should keep it a surprise from you.”

Jake shakes his head, kissing the top of her head as he pulls her into his arms.

“Well that poses a bit of a problem, darlin’. Don’t know what color tie I need, or what flowers to put on your corsage.”

Honey blushes, forgetting about that.

“For the flowers, do whatever you want, just something pretty, and the tie, black.” She attempts to mask her sly smile.

“Black?” Jake’s green eyes widened, his arms pulling her closer as he looked down at her. The sight of Honey in a black dress would probably kill him on the spot. "Don't think I've ever seen you in a black dress, baby."

Honey smiled as he spoke the nickname that still gave her goosebumps nearly three years later. She shrugs nonchalantly, as if the sudden change was nothing.

"Wanted to switch it up, leave our whole class with the whole 'wallflower is hotter than you think' dramatic exit, like a movie."

Jake chuckles, "You've got to stop watching so many of those cheesy romances. C'mon I got to show you somethin'."

He pulls her forward by the hand as she quickly slides on her sandals at the door. He brings her out the door and pops open the passenger side of his vehicle, helping her in. He slides into his driver's side and backs out, leading to her incoming question.

"Jake, where are we going?"

"That field with the house in the middle."

"Care to tell me why?"

"You'll see, darlin', patience, please."

Honey rolls her eyes at him as she looks out the window at the fields full of animals passing them by, slowly morphing into empty ones. Jake pulls into the driveway of the house, and Honey notes the lights on in the house.

"Did they hire some hands for the summer? You should've told me, I'm not really dressed to meet strangers, Jake."

Jake opens her door, and helps her out.

"Nobody's here but us, Hon. Just c'mon," He leads her through the front door and into the house, and she's immediately in awe of how nice it looks. There's no more layers of dust, or the sort of weird, tangy smell a shut-up house has. She turns to her boyfriend again.

"You did all this? You cleaned this place up?"

He nods, pulling her into him, her back to his chest.

"Thought it would be nice for you and the girls to get ready in, since me, and Brett and Willie and Ethan are getting ready at the house, no way we could share a bathroom with all of us."

"You fixed the bathroom in this place?" Honey's eyes widened, launching from his arms and into the hallway. She opens the door and audibly gasps-he added lighting around the mirrors, something the bathroom was once lacking, giving the perfect spot for them to get ready. "You are somethin' else, Jake Seresin."

She approaches him as he's standing in the door frame, kissing his lips sweetly. When they break apart she catches sight of the open bedroom door, immediately moving to look at it. She pushes the door completely open, finding the once broken headboard fixed, clean sheets, and the curtains are no longer filled with dust. The boy who she had to force to pick up his laundry had vacuumed this house from top to bottom.

"It looks amazing here, J, seriously." Her eyes are round as she looks around.

"I, um, I thought it'd be nice for us to have this place for just us, ya know? For prom obviously, but also if you wanted to come home during school or the summer? Wouldn't have to be cramped up in the house with the old folks."

He didn't have the heart to say he had done it so she would have some space away from the memories of him if she decided to come home. He didn't like imagining her working her ass off for some overpriced apartment during the summers when she could live here. The place wasn't anything fancy, and it's interior was definitely aging, but that was something she could fix, if she wanted. It gave Jake peace of mind to know that even if he wasn't around for her, that she would have somewhere to go, that she would be taken care of. She leans back into his embrace, taking in the house's appearance.

"Hey, J?" Her voice is quiet, but not somber.

"Yeah, baby?" He replies, his chin falling to her shoulder, planting a chaste kiss on her temple before he rests there.

"Do you think, someday-, maybe-, maybe s-someday we'd fix this place up together? It could be ours? I mean, it's perfect, a decent size house on a big patch of land. We could make it our own."

Jake's heart sinks to his feet, feeling like he might hurl with the amount of guilt swirling in his stomach. Her eyes are so wide, full of hope, and she gives him that smile, the one that's so rare it's practically reserved for him alone. He swallows down the round of tears threatening to choke him, and gives her a smile of his own.

"Someday, I'll give you the house of your dreams, baby. I'll give you whatever you want, if you'll let me."

-

taglist:

@djs8891

@unattainablesillygoose

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-

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ minors skiddaddle pls

Chapter 009: Nina

There’s a new girl at Hellfire and Eddie is seemingly wrapped around her finger. Meanwhile, Max makes a shocking new discovery…

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 3.8k words

disclaimers & warnings — ⚠️ this is a verrrryy emotionally intense chapter. pls read at your discretion ; generational curses, physical altercations, profanities, throwing objects, heated arguments, implications of suspected grooming, shy girl being delulu, lmk if anything else

“Shouldn't have to listen to the shit you say.”

♡

"C’mon... COME ON!" Dustin roars in frustration. "What starts with a T and ends with a C?"

Slow Monday afternoons call for Wordle with the Party.

With little else to do in Hawkins on your day off, you find yourself situated at DRAGON’S BREATH with Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan’s younger brother Will.

Figuring out the last Wordle is a daunting task. Thankfully Argyle has been periodically swinging by, his emotional support nachos being the only thing keeping you from ripping out your hair.

"Tunic," Will suggests.

"Tonic," Steve contributes. "Like tonic water."

"Topic?" you pitch in. “Like Hot Topic.”

This is taking all of your last brain cells combined.

"Topic was one of them, Shy Girl,” Dustin sighs irritably. “I said that already.”

You raise your arms, surrendering. It seems you’ve poked the beast.

It’s been hard for you to focus anyway. The hot and heavy night you spent with Eddie a couple nights ago is taking up all the space of your dirty little mind.

You think of Eddie. His moans. The O-shape his mouth made as he chased his own pleasure on you. How full your pussy felt with just his three fingers pulsing in and out, and how full your mouth felt with Eddie's cock ramming the back of your throat with no mercy. The taste of him. How shocked he looked when you swallowed. How rough he was with you, but oh so thoughtful at the same time.

Truly an experience from another dimension. And you’re already fantasizing about the next time.

But you still want to keep it on the down low. Considering Eddie might still be seeing his Lady Friend, and you're still getting shagged by his roommate whenever he’s not home, you can't exactly get mad at him for texting someone who isn't you.

“Pssst,” you nudge Steve while the others brainstorm. “I think Eddie is talking to Nina again.”

Confusion sets in on Steve's face. He raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“Yeah,” you smirk, trying to pretend that it doesn’t hurt. “Saw a message exchange between them a couple days ago.”

“Who’s Nina?”

“Isn’t that the Lady Friend’s name?”

“No…” Steve shakes his head. “Lady Friend’s name was Heather.”

It really has you wondering now... who is Nina?

"Yeah, the kukris are cool huh?" you hear Eddie's soothing voice come into earshot.

Odd. He stopped coming in on Mondays, you thought.

"That's the cool thing about owning a business,” you hear Eddie explain. “You get to choose where the money goes, when it goes, how it goes — at least most of the time."

Where have you heard that before?

Then Eddie comes into view, with a girl walking very closely behind him.

She’s stunning, standing to be about five-foot-two with a youthful face, petite body, and straight, long jet-black hair. Both conventionally, and legitimately beautiful, the girl looks to be at least 20 years old, dressed in cream-colored Chuck Taylor's, tattered booty shorts, and a playful white off-the-shoulder blouse. Scattered fine-line tattoos ornament her body. Her makeup has been flawlessly painted on, her lash extensions a hybrid between voluminous and wispy. And because you’re from Southern California, you can spot lip injections from a mile away.

A new dancer.

"This is where you clock in," Eddie explains to her. "I'll be sure to get you your punch in code by the end of the week. Over at the lounge we have Will, Shy Girl, Steve, and Dustin. Hey guys!”

Now you know why it sounds familiar. You received a very identical run down when you first started.

You're too shocked to wave so you feign a smile at your new colleague. Also, Eddie is too quick for you to react.

"We call the hookah lounge Dragon's Breath," Eddie continues. "And main-stage-slash-tip-rail is called Vecna's Lair."

They walk over to VECNA'S LAIR and you crane your neck to watch.

You observe Eddie give the girl a very familiar run down of Hellfire, using his arms to talk and eyes to listen.

She laughs at Eddie's charm, as anyone would. They talk for a bit more before he walks, what looks like to you, a predatory circle around her — a lion and a gazelle — and then spins her. Then Eddie does something that just about snaps your heart in half.

“MWAH!” he exclaims. “You are gonna do great. I just know it.”

The verbal kiss. The spin. The drowning her in compliments. Everything he did with you.

If Eddie’s gonna do his job, could he at least make every interaction with his employees unique? It all makes you feel betrayed. As if you were just another number in the factory.

"Traitor." you hiss sharply under your breath.

You abruptly stand up to start towards Eddie, hands balled into fists at the blatant disrespect displayed in front of you. You feel sick to your stomach, skin seemingly dragon-green with envy.

"That’s seven letters not five!" Dustin calls after you.

Eddie sees you in his periphery and waves. For the sake of keeping the peace, the smile you exude is fake to him, but friendly to the girl next to him.

"Hey, Hargrove!" Eddie smiles. "We've got a new person on board."

"I see that!" you exclaim. "Hi, I'm Shy Girl."

"I'm Nina," she introduces herself with a bright smile. "It's nice to meet you."

You two shake hands. Nina is just darling. Her eyes are so kind and bright, full of wonder. Her energy is warm. For a second there she was making you nervous.

“Y-you gonna be starting with us soon?” you investigate.

“Yeah, I start on Friday!”

“First dancing gig?”

Eddie shoots you a look, almost as if what you said was disrespectful. It wasn’t your intention. You were just wondering, after all. Nina looks really, really young.

“Uh, no actually,” Nina smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been dancing since I was 18. So two-ish years now.”

Your soul hurts.

Eighteen is just a baby. Twenty is a fresh adult. Nina is only a year older than the kiddos and can't even be near POTIONS without redirection from Henry.

Now you’re disgusted with Eddie. Why would he ever get so close to someone so young? You thought teenagers at Hellfire made him queasy. Nina is 20 now, but still. What would she have in common with a 28 year old? What about her was so appealing to Eddie?

“Oh! That’s cool… I think?”

Eddie’s harsh lines deepen across his face.

“Nina, why won’t you put your bag down by the cubbies, sweetheart?” Eddie suggests. “Then I’ll have Argyle make you something to eat. My treat.”

“Okay!” Nina chimes. "I was eyeing the chicken wings."

"Done deal. Wings or flats?"

"Flats!" Nina says as she skips away. "Please."

Eddie's admiring eyes trail after her as Nina acqauints herself with Hellfire.

So many questions arise in your head. Is Nina who Eddie’s been texting all this time? Did she come in and audition like you did? Did he ask her out on an 'orientation' lunch/dinner that he apparently does with all of his dancers? It wouldn't surprise you. None of this behavior is new.

This jealousy feels icky. And most of all, it hurts.

"Ugh!" Eddie clutches his chest. He turns to you. "I love her already."

You remain stiff as a board as Eddie slowly leans into you. A part of you is aching to lean in as well, but you can’t give him the satisfaction.

Eddie hovers his hand over the small of your back because he knows Steve is watching. His eyes are out on a prowl per usual the way they burn into you.

"Looking beautiful as always," Eddie compliments you. "How are you? I haven't stopped thinking about you since Saturday."

He looks over your shoulder at the Wordle group.

"What was the last word?"

“Don’t know,” you huff. “You seem to have gotten it.”

“What?” Eddie questions cluelessly.

“With Nina,” you cross your arms. "And all your words that you've been wooing her with."

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie scowls. His hand drops back to his side. “You're mad because I... hired a stripper? Cause that’s kinda what I do.”

“I'm not mad that you hired a stripper, you literally own a strip club,” you shrug. “It’s just that…I didn’t know you use the same script with every new hire.”

"I'm sorry? Script?”

"You used almost the exact same words with me, Eddie," you explain. "Like you do with everybody I'm guessing.”

Disbelief sets in on Eddie's face, accompanied by an ounce of fear. Eddie is scared of something.

"Well, I don't know what you expected me to do when you first started," Eddie shrugs. "I'm not gonna come off strong and hit on you like some creep. Of course I'm gonna give you the same treatment I give everybody."

Eddie's got a solid rationale, but it didn't take away from the fact that you simply felt ordinary. When you compare the interactions side by side, nothing about Shy Girl stuck out from Nina.

"Why are we even having this conversation right now?" Eddie asks you. "We're not even together."

“I’m not trying to pick a fight, believe me,” you cross your arms. “I’m just disappointed is all. You made me really think you were falling for me.”

“Oh so all it takes is me walking with a girl to have all of my words not ring true anymore?”

Your tongue and stomach are in knots. All you can do is stand there and blubber like a baby. You’re making no sense, you’re aware. But why does it hurt you so bad?

Eddie paces back and forth. "I don't even know why I feel the need to explain myself, Hargrove,” he continues. “I’m not the one fucking the other’s best friend."

It's a reasonable standpoint. Still. You felt disgusting.

“Yeah but..." you argue softly. "How can you feel so comfortable touching…kissing…interacting with someone like that after being so intimate with me?”

Your boss can only release a chuckle, a baffled one at that. He shakes his head rapidly.

“Just because we hooked up over the weekend, you think you have a say in who I associate with or what goes on around here?" Eddie spews. “What, are you trying to take over Hellfire or something?”

Your lip quivers. “I never said that! Where did that even come from? Why are you so fucking defensive right now?”

Eddie’s nose flares angrily as he tries to keep himself collected. Suddenly, Nina calls out for his attention and he softens up again.

“Eddie!” the new girl cheers. “Argyle gave me some of his flats and it's so good! I think I’m gonna shoot for Creeping Death next!”

“Hey, nice!” Eddie smiles. “You like spicy, huh?”

“Mhm!”

It would be a lot easier to hate her if she did something to you. But Nina didn't do anything.

Eddie turns back around to face you, kicking at the ground before he thinks of something to say.

“Let’s not do this right now,” Eddie resigns, placing his hands over his hips. “You uh…clocking in?”

“No, I’m going home actually,” you respond. “It’s my day off.”

Eddie makes a face. You project it back onto him. For a moment, you two are staring at each other, appalled at one another's behavior. Being infatuated with the literal mirror version of yourself is hell.

“Hey Eddie!” Will calls. “Do you know a five-lettered word that starts with T and ends with C?”

Eddie’s eyes don’t leave you.

“Sure do,” he answers. “TOXIC.”

There’s a pause.

“BADA-BOOM!” Dustin hollers. “That’s the one.”

Eddie doesn't bother to chase you after your mini altercation. Just then, another pair of heels that don't belong to you click across the hard club floor. Chrissy comes into sight, holding a tray of slushees and her car keys in her hands.

“Hey guys!” Chrissy sings. “I got us some slushees from 7-Eleven. They're Cherry flavored...”

“I’ll pass,” you huff. “You can give one to Nina.”

“Ooh we have someone new?!” she chirps. “Where?”

Chrissy notices your shift in attitude when you walk away and Eddie’s stand-offish posture.

“What the fuck did you say to her?” you hear her snap at Eddie as you walk away.

“Nothing,”

“Bullshit. You look guilty as fuck.”

You stomp your way back over to your section and ask Steve to hand you your purse. It's obvious by the look on his face that Steve caught onto what you were feeling. He doesn't question it. He hands you your things.

"I'm not feeling too well, guys," you announce. "I'm going home."

You collect your trash and organize it neatly for Argyle when he comes back over with some waffle fries. Showing your appreciation for him, you thank him and give him a soft pat on the shoulder.

"Argyle, you should've seen the new girl," Dustin fawns. "She's so pretty."

"Yeah?" Argyle quirks up. "What's her name?"

"Nina."

"Was she hot?" he turns to the guys. "Byers, what do you think? Was she a 10 or what?"

Will, who never seems to pay the Hellfire girls any mind, eyes glued to his sketchbook instead of their sultry outfits, squirms around in his seat. He shrugs. "I-I don't know."

"Steve?"

"She was pretty cute."

Your blood boils. Not her stealing Steve's heart too!

"Nina…” Argyle repeats. "How exotic. She sounds like a small feisty Latina woman."

“Bet Shy Girl can vouch,” Dustin comments. “Right, Shy Girl?”

Intrigued, the line cook turns to you.

"Well, Shy Girl? Is she giving chunti, chingona, or what?”

Steve encourages Argyle to stop as you walk away, hair covering the sides of your face on the way out.

“What?” Argyle sounds bewildered. “What’d I say?”

"Was I made from a broken home?"

A girls day with Max would surely take your mind off of the Nina situation. She always knew how to make you feel better. Lucky for you, she is home today, evident by her skateboard that is situated neatly in the garage.

You hear some commotion coming from your shared bedroom and go in to greet her.

"Hey girl hey!" you call out to your sister. "It's my day off so I was wondering if you wanted to go t-"

You pause in your tracks, horrified.

"Hmm," Max ponders aloud. "Last time I recall, stilettos and G-strings aren't really part of nursing home etiquette."

Propped open on Max’s bed is one of your unpacked suitcases, the one that you hid all your lingerie, heels, and the Hellfire shirt Eddie gave you when you first started in. Typically you lock it but you left it open this morning. Out of all days Max had to look through your room, it had to be today.

Max has a tennis racket in her hand, the handle acting as a hook the way it swept up a thong of yours so effortlessly. You feel your knees buckle.

"What are you doing looking through my stuff, you little shit?" you bark.

"Looking for my sports bras," Max replies nonchalantly. "Still can't find 'em."

She dangles the thong in the air like it's something she caught at the lake.

"Found some other goodies though."

"You couldn't have just waited to ask me?"

"I would've had to wait a day or two since you work nights," Max snaps. "Now I know why. And do I even need to ask where?"

Just what you needed. This is JUST what you needed.

You feel exposed. Violated. Disrespected. In every aspect and every situation. There was no safe place to turn. It makes you angry.

Fine. If people are going to disrespect you, you'll be disrespectful too.

"When is it EVER okay to snoop?" you hiss. "Have you any respect for others and their belongings? How would you feel if I started picking apart at your shit?"

"I wouldn’t care because I don't have anything to hide."

"That's not the fucking point, Maxine."

"Oh, not the government name!" Max exclaims, sassily putting a hand over her chest.

That really tips you over the edge.

"I should've known," Max proceeds, shaking her head. She chucks the racket back onto her bed. “You haven't renewed your CPR cert since you graduated high school. And you need that to even work as a caregiver. Didn't catch that loophole when you were LYING, did you?"

"I was lying to protect you."

"You still lied, Sis," Maxine argues. "You're missing the point..."

Oh, now she wants to mimmick you.

You're blind-sided. Tunnel-visioned. You are feeling all five stages of grief all at once. It’s all too much to bear. You feel the bomb ticking...

As much as you love your sister, it sure was a bitch to raise her. You spent most of the time explaining to Max what social cues are, what is acceptable and what is not. It often made you short-fused because what was common sense to you took ages for Max to understand. Like how you shouldn't look through other people's things.

Max learns best when she puts herself in others' shoes. You've learned that the hard way, over the years.

“How would you feel if I was looking through your drawers and shit?” you walk over to Max’s corner of the room, prying open her drawers and tossing whatever is in there out. “And just tossing your shit out onto the floor?"

“What the fuck?!” Max exclaims. "What are you doing?!"

“Or what if I just went to your side of the mirror and…” you knock her perfume bottles off from the dresser mirror in numbers and watch them fall onto the floor. "Knocked all your shit down because I was looking for my own things?"

"I get it now, stop."

“Or," you brainstorm. "What if I just started unpacking your vinyls and shit and just not care about the packaging?”

Max stops you right there. "ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! I said STOP."

“How would YOU FEEL?” you yell. “HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF I DID THAT TO YOU?! IF I PULLED A 'YOU' ON YOU? NOT GREAT, HUH?”

How would everybody feel if you acted the way they did? Would they be mortified? Would they be disgusted?

Would Dad not hit anybody?

Would Mom have chosen to stay?

Would your first love never want to see you again?

Would Eddie be angry at your behavior?

Would Max think you're the worst sibling ever?

You would hope so for all the above.

Your heart couldn’t take any more pain.

"SHUT," Max screeches. "THE FUCK UP!"

She tosses an acrylic storage box at you. It hits you and you yelp in pain. When she realizes what she has done, Max punches the pillow on her bed. Physically aching for the last word, you take it upon yourself to chuck your empty Hydroflask at her. Thankfully, it misses and the ear-piercing CLINK sound is enough to startle her. Max shrinks herself down in fear, trying to process what you just did.

You regret it immediately. You didn't want to hit her. You mainly did it for intimidation.

It puts you to shame. You are toxic.

Suddenly, Max inflates again, her entire face extending to her ears redder than her fiery amber hair.

"YOU," Maxine growls. "ARE JUST LIKE BILLY!"

Silence.

You take a look around the trashed room. Never did you think you had it in you to be someone like your brother. But of course, the Wolf who is fed the most prevails.

The amount of hurt and anger you actually harbored was way more than you thought. You can’t take back the fact that you’ve exploded on everyone you love now. But at least you can hold yourself accountable.

"I didn't mean that," Max mumbles. “I’m really sorry.”

"No, Max," you sigh. "You're right. And I'm sure you've been wanting to say that for a while..."

But Max refuses. “NO! I just wanted the last word again. Like I always fucking do even when I know it’s never worth it.”

You and your sister join each other by sitting criss-crossed on the floor, pushing the debris off to the side to be handled later. Max leans her head on you and you let her, combing through her knotted hair with your trembling fingers.

"We have a lot to unlearn, don't we?" she sighs.

You nod. "Oh yeah..."

She grabs your hand.

"Are you safe at least?" Max questions. "At work? Any creeps I gotta beat up for you?"

A laugh escapes you. "Nah, someone's already got that covered. Bones snapping and all."

Max flinches.

"That's how you got all that money real fast, huh? Stripping?”

You nod to confirm. "I did it for you. Well, us."

You watch as Max takes out her phone and shuffles through her camera roll. Her most recent in the gallery are videos of her shooting free throws at the Y and playing tennis. She cancels out some apps for more storage, one of them being Messenger. The tab reveals that Billy was spamming her again.

You both shudder. Max puts her phone away.

"Because of you I have a membership," she beams. "And I have a safe place to rest my head and I have money to do what I want and I have food on the table."

She hugs you.

“I hope you know how grateful I am for you. For putting my needs before yours. For throwing yourself into something so terrifying just so I can have a better life than you did growing up.”

“I never thought for a second you were being ungrateful,” you hug her back. “And no matter what I say or do, I’m sticking by you no matter what.”

“Even when I’m being an asshole?”

“Even when you’re being an asshole.”

Max giggles. “Thanks for the reassurance.”

Suddenly your door swings open, causing you and Max to jolt in place. Thankfully, it’s just Robin and Vicky, both worried and confused about the state of your room.

"ToTo," Robin says. "We're not in Hawkins anymore."

"What tornado rummaged through here?!" Vicky exclaimed. "Guys. Are you okay?"

You and Max burst into laughter.

"Yeah, we’re good," you nod. "Just Hurricane Hargrove passing through."

As long as you have Max and your sisterhood with Robin and Vicky, you know you're going to be okay.

You refuse to mope around for the rest of the day, so in the evening you go bowling with Max and your roommates, loading yourselves up with carbs and soda. You ignore Eddie’s “can we talk?” messages, along with Billy’s routine “where the fuck are you” texts followed by rage-calls without a care in the world . Towards the end of the night, however, when the “Sad Boy Hours” hit, there’s a text from a man you simply can’t ignore.

Maybe: Henry

Hey 🧍🏻 it's Henry from work. Can I ask you something? Pls be honest.

tag list: @battymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi i , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123

[ayaayman95]

Hello dear friends,

I have some sad news for you. The war is back, but this time it is harsher and bloodier. Things have been going from bad to worse! I'll try to explain our suffering in simple words, despite that no words can describe our feelings of anxiety and uncertainty. 😞

Insecurity

Since the resumption of the genocide, we have a constant sense of insecurity. Every night, we have this ugly feeling that we may never wake up again. Loud explosions from every direction, and the continuous roar of fighter jets only add to our anxiety. People die while sleeping in their homes, walking in the streets or standing in lines for water and food. Sadly, there's no safe place in Gaza. 💔

War of Starvation

A month ago, Israel has closed border crossings, stopping all food and humanitarian aid from getting into Gaza. Basic commodities are getting scarce every day, and the prices are skyrocketing. As a result, the danger of famine and starvation looms large, so we have already started to minimize our food rations. ☹️

Water supply

As a result of the cessation of fuel supply, water pumps have stopped as well. With the lack of water supply, we found ourselves in a dire situation, paying huge sums for water, and manually moving it from far places. Have you ever considered moving water in buckets for hundreds of meters? Considering this reality, We decided to decrease our water consumption, a hard decision with dangerous impacts on our health and hygiene! 😭

Heating & cooking

With the crossings shut by Israel, the flow of fuel and cooking gas has stopped. As a result, we have been forced to use wood for heating and cooking. I don't need to explain the negative impacts of this on environment and public health, but we have no choice.

Transportation & power supply

It goes without saying that no fuel means no transportation and no power supply. The social impacts are not to be underestimated, as people can barely communicate with each other and with the outside world. As the Muslim world celebrate Ramadan and Eid El-Fitr, a special time for family bonding, people in Gaza stick to their homes due to the lack of transportation and sense of security.

Health care

Medicine stocks in pharmacies and hospitals are getting empty and the health care system is crumbling. This poses a threat particularly to our family, as my father and grandma suffer from chronic diseases. I am deeply worried about their survival.

On the background of these sad developments, I am turning to you for help. I humbly ask you to donate to our fundraiser. Your support, no matter how small, can be the line seperating life and death, safety and danger. 🙏