#i drew this for a friend before i even started playing

[weaselandfriends]

The Making Of: When I Win the World Ends

(For my previous Making Of post, see The Making Of: Cleveland Quixotic.)

I. 1999

It was the year of the cubicle movie. It was the year of Fight Club, of Office Space, of Being John Malkovich, of Three Kings, of The Matrix, and of American Beauty. It was the year of suburban malaise, of eternal sunshine, of ceaseless normality. A year of United States hegemony; a year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.

Before the millennium turned and the towers fell, there was an initial challenge to this order, a completely inconsequential one made consequential by a newly minted 24/7 news media machine running out of noise to fill dead air now that people were sick to bursting of the Clinton impeachment. This challenge came not through war, revolution, or violence, but through entertainment. Children's entertainment.

And I was a child. Unaware of any cultural context, I knew only one thing: I loved Pokémon. I really, really loved Pokémon.

I owned Red Version, Blue Version, Yellow Version, Pokémon Pinball, Pokémon Stadium, Pokémon Snap, Hey You Pikachu, a Pokémon Tetris sort of puzzle game, even the Pokémon TCG game for Gameboy. I had ten to fifteen strategy guides for the games, an encyclopedia of the 151 Pokémon, a choose your own adventure book, an I Spy-style book. I had Pokémon figurines, Pokémon plushies, toy Poké Balls, toy Pokédexes. I had Pokémon stamps and Pokémon stickers and a deck of Pokémon cards. Not trading cards, just a standard 52-card deck with Pokémon pictures on it. Of course I also had the trading cards. A complete set of the first three runs, plus a special Mew card you could get from I dunno Toys R Us or something as part of some promotion. I had a guide for the card game that explained which cards were good or bad even though I didn't even play the card game. I had a Pokémon Tamagotchi and Pokémon pencils and Pokémon erasers and Ash Ketchum's hat and I dressed up as Ash Ketchum for Halloween. Of course I watched every episode of the anime, and in notebooks I drew doodles of existing Pokémon and came up with names for new Pokémon. My father had died that year.

My father was a sports fanatic. Traditional sports. He, too, collected. Sports memorabilia, baseball cards, figures of famous stars. When I was an infant, he drove me on a cross country road trip to Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Wisconsin, where I became a part owner of the Green Bay Packers. He had always wanted me to grow up and pursue professional sports. When I was born, the doctor apparently said to start looking for football colleges, a quote he saved in a scrapbook of baby photos. He had played sports himself, in college; he was a baseball catcher, until a hitter accidentally struck him in the head with a full force swing.

Almost everything I personally remember about him involves him dying. He was sick for a long time, and I remember hospitals and hospital beds and strange smells and gauze. And then one day my mother told me he died.

He was a charismatic man, very social and very popular. He had many friends and a lot of family, all of whom had constantly been around our house. Once he was gone, they stopped coming around. Then it was just me and my mother, who was not a fanatic for anything, except maybe her job as an elementary school teacher, which consumed her time as she assiduously prepared lesson plans and graded tests until late at night. When my father died, she got into some argument with his side of the family, the details of which I still don't fully understand, and afterward they no longer spoke. Her own family lived far away, out-of-state, seen only at Christmas. The house became quiet.

And I… played… Pokémon.

II. The Electric Tale of Pikachu

Toshihiro Ono was a mangaka primarily known for shotacon and futanari hentai. His credits such as Innyou Megami and Anal Justice made him a no-brainer pick for the officially licensed Pokémon manga, Electric Tale of Pikachu, as it too would feature a 10-year-old boy as the protagonist.

This manga would be the foundation for my conception of what Pokémon was, narratively. Though I also had the Pokémon Adventures manga that ran concurrently and which has by now long outlasted it, Electric Tale left a significantly deeper imprint on my memory.

In summary, Electric Tale is a retelling of the first two seasons of the anime. Ash Ketchum is the main character, he's accompanied by Misty and later Brock, his rival is Gary, and Team Rocket harangues him.

What sets Electric Tale apart is its tone, which is far more adult than Adventures and the anime. Obviously, part of this comes from the author's primary area of expertise being hentai. Even in the censored English version, there is a sense of sexual playfulness in how every single female character is an older woman who likes to tease Ash about his romantic interests.

But there are other elements that creep in unrelated to sex, due to the perspective of someone only used to speaking to adults who suddenly has to speak to children. Ono doesn't really get the childish fantasy of leaving at 10 being normal in society, so he introduces an element where Ash can only get a one year deferment from school and will have to return unless he hits it big. Team Rocket are former competitive hopefuls who flamed out and then, with no education or work experience to speak of, had no choice but to turn to crime. The Pokémon are depicted more realistically, often eschewing the toyetic mascot elements of their designs.

And the landscapes are often wistful, even apocalyptic in their presentation:

This more sedate, mature, realistic depiction of Pokémon became what I wanted Pokémon to be, what I projected onto an original Red and Blue version that left everything open to interpretation, and what would increasingly frustrate me with the series as it deviated more toward bombastic villain groups with goofy destroy-the-world plots. (Which was what put me off Pokémon Adventures.)

Amid all this, one panel stuck with me in particular. One panel I would think about ever since I first saw it as a child, that would turn around in my head and keep coming back. That panel would eventually—over two decades later—become the basis for When I Win the World Ends, the seed from which an entire story grew:

III. The Unkillable Demon King

But in the interim, the seed remained dormant. 1999 fell away. I grew up. I played later Pokémon games and increasingly lost interest by around Gen 4 and 5. Then I went to college.

That's when I started playing League of Legends.

I was something of a psychopath in college. I operated on a strict schedule and did not deviate. Wake up, read 50 pages of classic literature, write 2,000 words, go to classes, study, and then by about four in the afternoon all my obligations were done and it was League of Legends until midnight.

I wasn't actually interested in the League of Legends esports scene in its infancy. In 2012, I was actually invited to attend its World Championship in Los Angeles and refused. (When I received this invitation, I had just finished reading Homestuck for the first time, and was caught in a month-long haze in which I could do little but bask within what I considered the greatest artistic achievement I'd seen in my life. It was this month that inspired Modern Cannibals.) I only liked playing the game and watching Dunkey videos.

It wasn't until the next year, when a girl I was interested in recommended I watch, that I tuned in to my first professional League of Legends game, at the 2013 World Championship. It was there that I got to watch this new, hyped, upcoming Korean player who had apparently taken the pro scene by storm that season. That player was Faker.

It has seemingly become essential to the narrative of any sport that there is "the man who always wins." American football has Tom Brady, and the moment Brady retired, he was replaced by Patrick Mahomes. Basketball has LeBron James, picking up the mantle from Michael Jordan. It's as if someone being "the best" validates the skill-based promise of the sport, the fundamental top-down fairness of its premise, the idea that the person who wins is the best and deserved it. Faker would become the backbone of League of Legends esports and his ascendance correlated to that of the sport itself, from its humble roots at small-scale tournaments in places like Jönköping, Sweden, to max capacity arenas in the biggest cities in the world.

It's surprising, though, how the legend of Faker had already begun even before he won his first World Championship. League of Legends was designed as a clone of Defense of the Ancients (DotA), a popular mod for Warcraft III that emphasized competitive play. In its infancy, the competitive scene was mostly dominated by players who had migrated from DotA to League. They were older, winning thanks to a fundamental conceptual understanding of the game that was superior to everyone else, and frankly not very good in the aggregate. As League of Legends esports exploded in popularity from 2013 to 2015, these old pros would get filtered out swiftly, with even the biggest and most popular names retiring after only a couple of years in the scene.

Even once the new generation of League-grown talent ascended, though, careers were nasty, brutish, and short. The best players only remained on top for a season, as game patches dramatically changed viable strategies. Internationally the sport was dominated by Koreans, with the Korean regional league sometimes being seen as more difficult to win than the World Championship, where Koreans often breezed through uncompetitive Chinese, European, and North American squads.

This possibly affected the demographics of the professional scene. South Korea has mandatory military service, and leaving the pro scene to join the military was basically the end of a Korean player's career. This meant that it was rare to see a Korean player older than 25. Retiring in your early 20s was and remains common. Korean organizations, which had an infrastructural leg up on other regions due to the popularity of StarCraft 2 esports in the country, became adept at scouting promising players at 15 or 16, building them into top level competitive pros, wringing them dry for a few seasons with brutal training regimens, and spitting them out.

Faker was the exception. Though he had been discovered young by SK Telecom, a major Korean telecommunications company that did esports on the side, and gone through the training regimen, he refused to be spit out. He simply didn't stop. He won in 2013, then with a completely new four-man squad around him won again in 2015 and 2016 before narrowly losing the 2017 finals in a nail biter. Given League of Legends esports had only existed since 2011, he basically accounted for half of the championships up until that point. Nobody else, except for his teammates, had won more than once. And it was like it was known he would be this juggernaut the instant he manifested ex nihilo. Like it was known, even in 2013, that he would always win.

Then, Faker stopped winning.

By 2017, League of Legends esports was a titan. Venture capital firms, seeing the millions of eyeballs, thought that this was the next NBA in its infancy, and decided to get in on the ground floor. Multiple millions of dollars were pumped into the scene as even mediocre players in weak regions like North America pulled seven-digit salaries. In China, where League of Legends had become the national pastime, the nation's richest oligarchs ran teams for fun and vanity, outbidding Korean organizations for top Korean players in pursuit of a trophy that had gone to Korea every year since 2013. Riot, the studio developing the game, pumped tons of money into creating a professional sports product, with skilled announcers, dedicated arenas for regional leagues, live performances by musicians like Imagine Dragons and Lil Nas X, and all the other bells and whistles one might expect from a program watched on ESPN.

In this milieu, it seemed like Faker had finally reached his limit. He was still good, but not the best. Even as an individual, while everyone still considered him the "greatest of all time," he was considered outmatched by newer pros like Chovy and ShowMaker. 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021 passed with no championships. In 2022, on a team of mostly rookies, he reached the world finals, but was ultimately beaten. Korea's stranglehold over the sport had been shaken by China, which had finally strung together some championships. People wondered if Faker would retire, although he had managed to avoid mandatory military service by representing Korea in the Olympics-esque Asian Games. He'd dealt with wrist injuries and his level of play dropped year over year. He just didn't seem to be that good anymore, potentially holding back his team of talented young players rather than leading them to victory.

Then, in 2023—

And in 2024—

In the end, never count out Touchdown Tom. 11 years of professional play, 5 world championships.

From this longwinded explanation, you might have realized that after watching that game in 2013, I became a League of Legends esports fanatic, fulfilling the prophecy set before me by my father though perhaps in not the way he would have expected.

And the things I become a fanatic about, I want to write a story about.

IV. Modern Cannibals

There's a deleted scene in Modern Cannibals, as Maximillion is driving Z. and her friends through the Utah desert. He starts to talk about Pokémon.

"I bring it up because my university thesis was about Pokemon in particular how Pokemon has basically trained an entire generation of children to think in a completely different way than preceding generations my generation for instance our fad was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles now I don't know how much you know about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles but from an educational standpoint we're talking absolute bankrupt complete and utter goose egg but Pokemon now Pokemon you see it's more like there's some substance to it you know that refrain Gotta Catch Em All right?" "..." "Well to most parents it looks like a marketing gimmick you make one hundred fifty-one characters and structure a game around collecting them the merchandising potential is astronomical kids buy one hundred fifty-one trading cards stickers coloring books figurines uh collectable lunchable toys I'm sure you've got some yourself."

He continues:

"But really you look at the game itself before the big toy explosion the game itself the focus is placed less on the collection and more on the catalogue you're given a blank encyclopedia to fill and you fill it by capturing one hundred fifty-one Pokemon but the goal is to create a complete database of each and every one and this is what I argue is the educational core of the Pokemon series." His hands left the wheel to conceive of his idea in the cool air of the car, which remained steady on its ever-forward path. "Our modern era is no longer one of singular isolated knowledge it is one of the catalogue the database which is most clearly personified in the advent of the internet because now all knowledge can be at the fingertips of any one human being all that is needed is someone to go and put the catalogue together and presto whiz bang it's there think about it Z. when you catch a bunch of Pokemon where do you store them?" Z. didn't need to think long to remember the game's mechanics. "In the PC." "Exactly now isn't that odd consider it in real life terms you have real life creatures made assumedly of flesh and bone and yet you store them in a computer how does that make sense you'd expect a farm or a holding pen but no it's the computer and that too prepares the budding portion of the millennial generation to become cognizant of the linkage between the computer the encyclopedia and the database structure of knowledge in a new era." "So," said Z. "So you're saying Pokemon taught kids how to think in the digital age?"

There's also a deleted character in Modern Cannibals. Well, mostly deleted—he still shows up, unnamed, in a couple of pages. He is Cole Coulter, Z.'s older brother, a popular League of Legends streamer. Before I deleted him, his role was to accompany Mrs. Roddlevan and Frederick in an attempt to bring Z. back home. He had POV scenes that gave insight into the weirdness of his cotravelers, but ultimately, I decided he didn't add anything to the story and removed him almost entirely.

Even then, though, I was already considering the future of Cole Coulter as the protagonist of a story about League of Legends esports. Playing under the ID MadKing, he would be a North American professional top laner, once known for his aggressive duelist style but recently forced into playing boring tanks as the esports metagame became more sophisticated and tactics-based.

The story would be simple, something I envisioned as a "sports story" only about esports instead of regular sports. It would start with Cole's team being relegated from the league, only for Cole to get a last chance signing to a new team with two promising Korean imports. One import, the mid laner, would be a charismatic and eccentric player in the mold of Doinb/Ganked By Mom/Huhi, while the other, an AD carry, would be introverted and pissy and elitist, in the mold of Piglet. The team would initially struggle, cultures would clash, then a mid-season replacement to sign a psychopathic Tyler1/Tarzaned style streamer as jungler would revitalize the team, put them on a major run, and get them to the World Championship. Though they would eventually fall after a miracle run, Cole would get a moment to truly shine on the biggest stage when he won a pivotal game by aggressive split pushing rather than tank play.

Thematically, the story would be about two things. First, a counterpoint to the idea of American exceptionalism, featuring a league where Americans are particularly bad compared to Korean or Chinese players. Second, an exploration of what it means to be exceptional at all. Cole would be an all-around mediocre person. Middling at school, at (real) sports, at the various popularity contests of being a teenager. League of Legends, this niche sub-sport, is the one thing he truly excelled at, the one place where he was good, better than 99.9 percent of all players, and yet even within that statistical greatness he wound up, ultimately, in a professional scene where he was once again mediocre, relegated to "tank duty," to facilitating other players to carry.

What does it mean to be the best? How can someone be so, so good, only to reach a level where they were still nothing special? Is there any way to win if you're not "the man who always wins"?

I remembered that panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu. The last people filtered before the final champion. It's certainly no walk in the zoo!

This idea was pretty detailed for a story I never wound up writing, something I mostly blame on the years 2018 and 2019, when a lot of bad things happened to me and in retrospect I consider it a minor miracle I managed to finish Chicago at all. As a human being, I would be decimated for the next three years, and so a lot of stories I might have written in that time never came to fruition.

Meanwhile, League of Legends esports reached a peak, then the venture capital bubble burst as investors realized there was no monetization scheme in place for any interested party except Riot Games. Money hemorrhaged out, Riot shifted resources to Valorant, and a sport that had been overinflated based on projected exponential growth in perpetuity fell back down to earth.

Also, Players came out.

Players was a 2022 mockumentary about a fictional League of Legends team competing in the North American league. Conceptually, it was doing a lot of what I had planned for my story: following a single team on a rags-to-riches run, focusing on the interpersonal drama of the team members, asking questions about greatness and its pursuit. It's a pretty good show if you're familiar with League of Legends esports at all, with a lot of on-the-ground fidelity that gives it an authentic feel, which is exactly what I had been hoping to use my esports fanaticism to accomplish. It completely took the wind out of my sails; it was like my idea had already been done.

So by 2022, the idea of a League of Legends esports story was dead. But there was still a drive to create something with that spirit, that would delve into those themes.

What remained after all these years of sifting the sieve, letting sand slip through, was that one panel from the manga. The number of people pursuing greatness slowly filtering until only one remained. And if I wasn't going to pursue that idea through League of Legends, maybe I could pursue it through another vehicle. Maybe the vehicle through which the idea had originally been exposed to me. Pokémon. It all came back to Pokémon.

V. Everything Evolving Into Crabs

I knew immediately that if I were to write a Pokémon fic, it would be a tournament arc. This was the natural evolution of my esports story idea. Also, if I were to write Pokémon, I wanted it to be a story about utopia, immersed within Pokémon's near-future ideal world, where everything is clean and healthy, where society is neat and ordered.

This idea caused me to remember the novel Eyeless in Gaza by Aldous Huxley, which I had read a few years back. A mostly autobiographical bildungsroman written on the precipice of World War II, the novel ends with the young protagonist on a journey to Central America, where he meets an idealistic doctor who believes sport to be a proper substitution for war. He tells the story of two tribes locked in internecine conflict through generations, able to replace that violence with soccer matches.

And wasn't that what the world of Pokémon was, a utopia revolving around neutralizing weapons of war by using them for competitive sport?

This tournament, I envisioned, would not simply be about deciding who was best, but an ideological battle for the future of the Pokémon world. To that end, I imagined a war between an entrenched trainer class, who competed as philosopher-warriors, intense individuals with deep connections to their Pokémon, and an upstart commercialization that sought to replace the ideological underpinnings that made their society so safe and prosperous with economic accumulation. It was from this kernel that the character who would become Aracely Sosa arose: charismatic, appealing, human-empathic, and propped up by a support staff who did all the hard work of teambuilding for her.

I imagined the story having an ensemble cast, focusing on nearly every competitor equally, with the Aracely character not having any especial focus until her improbable rise to the top. I imagined a final round where she faced off against "the man who always wins," and though she would lose to him, she would seem to have won the ideological battle, altering the course of society as major corporations scrambled to employ her formula for success at a much grander scale. The story would end with this realization of the earth-shattering importance behind her run, only for Aracely to sink in disappointment. Because in the end, all she really wanted was to win.

The more I thought about it, though, the less I liked the idea of an ensemble cast. The ensemble cast element of Chicago hadn't gone over very well (though I like it), and I figured it would wind up inflating the length of the story considerably. I was coming to the end of Cleveland Quixotic, after all, and once more wanted to write something smaller, tighter, and denser.

So I oriented my thinking to instead have the story revolve around Aracely and one major rival, to give an interpersonal mirror to the ideological war being waged. Thus, Toril came about as an antithesis to everything I had imagined Aracely to be: gruff, antisocial, independent. Their rivalry would culminate in a semifinals battle, before Aracely went on to fight "the man who always wins" in the finals.

I forget exactly when the gender theme came into the equation, but it evolved as an outgrowth of (once again) my competitive League of Legends expertise, where women are essentially nonexistent despite there seemingly being no biological blocks against them. This dovetailed nicely with Pokémon, a world where women seemingly could be powerful competitors, but where—in the anime at least—none ever are. For instance, look at this chart of every major tournament in the anime:

Every known winner is male. Every known finalist and semifinalist is male. Only a handful of female characters have reached the quarterfinals. What possible in-universe justification could there be for that?

This question was actually far more prominent in early planning and drafting than it wound up being in the final work. Initially, I had Aracely's personal motivation revolve around a drive to be the first female trainer to win; this would increase the ideological conflict between her and Toril, who attempted to ignore that she was female altogether. Over time, this theme would see diminished importance in face of the last piece of the thematic puzzle: cults.

It came from reading Underground by Haruki Murakami, a nonfiction journalistic account of the 1995 Tokyo sarin gas attacks carried out by the cult Aum Shinrikyo under the direction of its leader Shoko Asahara. Japan in the 90s was experiencing its own End of History, one taken literally by those disaffected with modern society's grand narrative. The prophecies of Nostradamus became fashionable among the young, who believed that 1999 would be the final year before the world was destroyed. Murakami interviewed both survivors of the gas attack and members of Aum Shinrikyo, collecting worldviews of people who simply thought they were "different" and who were willing to give everything in their lives to the one place that seemed to accept that difference.

The 1995 attacks were a watershed moment in Japanese culture. In their wake would come pivotal works of Japanese pop media, like the titan of otaku culture, Neon Genesis Evangelion:

(What's scary about Nostradamus' prophecy is that it might not come true. A year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.)

Pokémon, whose first games released in Japan in 1996, also emerged within this post-Aum world where fixation on the minutiae of pop media was becoming a primary pillar of meaning for the youth, and it's hard not to see echoes of cultism in the evil teams that dot the series' landscape. Even Team Rocket, originally more modeled on organized crime than occultism, veers that direction in Gold and Silver, and afterward the organizations and their world-ending plots become increasingly absurd, to the point where it starts to become unclear why anyone would ever follow, say, Lysandre.

As I mentioned earlier, my personal interest in Pokémon was at odds with these clownish, Saturday morning cartoon villain organizations, but Murakami's account of the Aum attacks recontextualized them for me, made them make sense even within the framework of a "realistic" utopian world. The last elements snapped into place, and I knew my main character would be the member of one of these cults. A cult dedicated to, what else? Evolution. A core element of the Pokémon series, a perfect metaphor for the frustrating lack of movement of the End of History 90s. I imagined a cult leader as a surrogate mother figure for Aracely, who would have a strained relationship with both of her own parents, and deciding on that, the idea of making Pokémon's canon evil mother Lusamine the villain was a no-brainer. I imagined a post-SuMo Lusamine, unable to move on from her experience merged with Nihilego, languishing in Kanto after being sent there to consult with Bill, who had his own experience being merged with a Pokémon... It didn't take long to figure out how all these pieces connected.

The full form of the story had taken shape.

VI. Showdown

I knew immediately I would be following Showdown rules for the battles. No alternative even crossed my mind. I had dabbled in Showdown a few times over the years, first in Gen 3 OUs, then later in Gen 7 OUs, and I knew from experience that Pokémon is a monumentally more interesting competitive game when operating at a high level compared to either its depiction in the anime (shounen logic, mid-fight evolutions) or the general playing experience (spam your best move on your overleveled starter). I knew I would use competitive rulesets before I even considered the thematic or worldbuilding aspect I would eventually take in the story itself (i.e., that the specific rulesets prevent battles from becoming bloodsport and enforce order on the world). I simply thought doing battles this way would be far more entertaining.

To prepare, I started playing Gen 9 OUs under the guidance of a few friends who were into the competitive scene. I grinded the ladder for months, eventually getting a good enough grasp on the metagame to reach 1500 Elo on the Showdown ladder, which is not very good but generally higher than someone can reach with dumb luck.

Crafting the tournament format and rulesets used in the story wasn't difficult. I modeled the tournament format on the League of Legends World Championship, with region-based seeds (having been selected due to performance in regional tournaments) competing in four groups before the highest performers advanced to a single elimination bracket. Initially, I envisioned a 32-competitor bracket instead of the 16-competitor bracket that would appear in the final draft, but otherwise the format came quickly and easily.

In terms of the rulesets and available Pokémon, my considerations were made primarily in terms of what would be most entertaining to read. I decided to include Mega Evolutions and not include Z Moves, Dynamax, or Terastallization, because Mega Evolutions are cool and those other gimmicks are not. The bring-9-pick-6 format, while unusual in Showdown rulesets, is similar to the rules in Pokémon Stadium and VGC tournaments, and also adds a level of intrigue to which Pokémon each competitor uses. (It also enabled Red's Zapdos at the climax of the story, which was something I knew I would bring out from very early on.)

With the help of one of my friends who knew competitive Pokémon, I scripted out each battle assiduously before I wrote them. Every battle was tested using Showdown itself, with only a few turns mocked up to account for luck. For instance, in Aracely versus Jinjiao, Slowking is meant to stay asleep for three turns. Rather than rely on luck to ensure Slowking actually slept that long during the test, I could give Slowking a useless move and have him use that instead to simulate being asleep.

The only thing that couldn't be tested in Showdown was the 7 PP Kingambit trick Red uses at the end of the story, because it's impossible to set a Pokémon to have fewer than max PP in Showdown. This led to one of the bigger mistakes of the story, as it turns out that Encore would simply wear off if Kingambit ran out of PP, rather than forcing him to use Struggle like I assumed. Luckily, even if this were the case, it wouldn't change the outcome of the battle, so it's not an error I lose too much sleep over.

Character teams were chosen to thread the needle between a few considerations. The team needed to be competitively viable, reflect the character's personality in some way, and be distinct from other teams for the sake of variety. (Variety is somewhat unrealistic in real top-level competitive Pokémon, where you'll often see many almost identical teams in the top ranks. But that would be boring.) Some lack of optimization was allowed under the conceit that actually training these Pokémon to peak form would take a lot of time in the real world, compared to Showdown were optimization can be determined quickly due to the ability to immediately adjust stats and builds.

I also tried to give some preference for Pokémon that would be more familiar to layman fans, though this was difficult because Gen 8 and 9 have outrageous power creep and many popular early generation Pokémon have been completely phased out. (Using Megas helped with this issue.) It was this consideration that led to Azumarill being Aracely's ace. There was also an innate challenge to imagining what the competitive scene would look like without legendary Pokémon. Zapdos and Landorus-Therian have been inexorable staples of the competitive scene for generations. What happens in a world where they aren't used at all?

In the original 32-person bracket, I imagined Aracely competing against Jinjiao in the first round, then minor characters Adrian da Cunha and Jacq Ray Johnson in the next two rounds, before facing Toril in semifinals. I imagined Adrian da Cunha as a "hometown hero" whose team wasn't great but he was plucky with a lot of grit, and Jacq Ray Johnson as a self-aware heel who liked to use cheesy strategies and gimmicky Pokémon like Smeargle and Ditto. Condensing from 32 to 16 occurred around the same time I had settled on Lusamine as my villain/cult leader, which led to replacing those two with Gladion. I developed full brackets for both the 32-man and 16-man iterations, with character names and regions, just in case I ever needed to mention them.

All that was left to do was write the story.

VII. Unbroken Line of History

I began writing in September 2023 under the tentative title Unbroken Line of History, which I would later change to simply Lines. In the original drafts, I opened the story with a modified version of the panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu detailing how people are filtered over time in their pursuit of being the best, this time starting with all 8 billion people in the world until only one remains. The story then cut to Aracely's perspective in the restroom as she mentally prepared for her final group stage match.

At this point I was more set on Aracely being the clear protagonist of the story, so she had a few facets of her personality designed around that. First, as I mentioned before, there was a feminist angle where she was motivated specifically to be the first female trainer to win the championship. Secondly, I threw in some more generic nervousness/fear of failure. The other major difference is that I did not lead with the cult prophecy of the world ending. I originally envisioned the cult reveal to be a mid-story twist, and only obliquely hinted at it.

The scene still played out with Toril appearing and the two getting off to a bad start. Then, Cely's father tried to talk strategy with her while she ignored him, before the battle transpired in much the same form as it does in the final draft.

I showed this early draft to my friends and most disliked it. My girlfriend at the time told me Cely sounded like an edgy 13-year-old boy, while my neuroscientist friend whose aspirational idol is Bondrewd from Made in Abyss wanted to know more about the oblique hints of a cult, finding everything else boring. Another friend said it was stupid that there were 30 seconds between turns during the battle and that the Pokémon should just go at each other; nobody would actually want to watch a battle that was paced so slowly. (I vehemently disagreed with that take. Basically every popular sport balances between slow-paced moments of strategy and fast-paced moments of action and execution.) Some people I showed it to did enjoy it, though. Gazemaize, the author of Chili and the Chocolate Factory, was especially enamored by the Brittany/Gardevoir reveal and the Bud Light Analyst Desk, and implored me to keep both of those elements at all costs. 7th, one of my friends who helped me with the Showdown stuff, was so into it she drew fan art of all the characters (which I've posted before) and also wrote eight pornographic short stories about them.

I rewrote the same opening scene several times across October and November, though these were minor iterations without significant adjustments. Frustrated with the lack of progress, I decided to take a break from writing to simply think about the story for a few months.

During this time, to fix Aracely's edgy 13-year-old voice, I decided to lean into her being from Pokémon Los Angeles (with her native region, Visia, being a play on "visual" as a reference to Hollywood) and gave her a Valley Girl accent. To prepare for this, I listened to hours and hours of ASMR videos of people speaking like Valley Girls and took notes on their inflection and syntax. It was here where I decided on Aracely's underlining quirk, as a way of capturing the unique style of emphasis Valley Girls used.

This also made me realize I needed to adjust Aracely's personality. Despite the tone of her voice, she was still acting antisocially. She didn't want to talk to her father, she didn't want to talk to Lachlan Nguyen, she didn't even really want to talk to Toril. Toril herself was a lump of coal. My own misanthropy kept leaking into the characters, even when I conceptually didn't want them to have it. I thought back to Cleveland Quixotic, and how what made the Jay and Viviendre romance work was that they actually both liked each other, and figured—even though I didn't have explicitly romantic plans for Aracely and Toril—that I needed to do something similar to make their rivalry truly pop. Rather than avoid people, Aracely would lean into talking to them, even if they were annoying. Although Toril remained frigid, there would be a part of her yearning for emotional contact, a way to coax her out of her shell.

I also thought deeply about the structure of my stories in general, and my inability to come up with good hooks. It was around this time that someone I knew was reading Chicago. They pointed out that the plot of Chicago doesn't really start until Chapter 26; that I was "burying the lede." I considered this. My logic, when writing Chicago, was that the Empire moving to take over Washington would be a twist, something that would shock and excite people and change their perception of the entire story.

But did that make sense, when really the story was "about" that twist? Didn't that just make everything before the twist harder to get into for a reader? Chicago might look radically different if I revealed the Empire's goals immediately, but it would also probably be a more immediately engaging work. I'm a big fan of delayed gratification in storytelling, but had I taken it too far?

This was a major revelation for me, and immediately I understood what I needed to do for my Pokémon story: move up the cult plotline. Place it front and center. Name the whole story after it even. I decided on framing the opening scene from Toril's perspective, depicting Aracely initially more as an alien other, emphasizing the fact that she was in a cult rather than hide it behind foreshadowing. This could also lead to Aracely and Toril having more of a dual protagonist setup, which would make my planned two-half finale (one half where Aracely battled "the man who always wins," one half where Toril got involved in stopping the cult's doomsday plot) work even better.

Confidence resurged. At the end of January 2024, my girlfriend of seven years  and I broke up. A few days later, I started writing the sixth—and ultimately final—draft of When I Win the World Ends.

VIII. When I Win the World Ends

Now it's the part of the Making Of where I actually make the thing I'm supposed to be making, but there's a lot less to say about it. Once I have a plan, the actual writing of the story is the easy part, and most of what I wrote—with a few exceptions—looks similar to the story as it exists now.

There were some oddities. I wrote the first seven chapters (everything up to the end of the Jinjiao battle) and then had to take a two week break to write a short piece for a writing contest I had entered in December as part of an effort to stop overthinking WIW. After this interruption, I returned to WIW writing perhaps a bit more perfunctorily than I usually would, leading to an original version of Chapter 8 (the chapter where MOTHER makes her first real appearance) that was short and abbreviated. Later, in editing, I would rewrite most of this chapter.

A few ideas emerged while writing, like the motif of serendipity/Logos, which I felt tied nicely to the ideas of evolution and history. It was also in this draft that I introduced Cely's friends Haydn and Charlie, as a nod to an earlier work of mine also featuring a fashion-obsessed girl from Los Angeles. (Speaking of nods to earlier works, in the original 32-man bracket, Cole Coulter featured as one of the competitors, but he didn't make the 16-man cut.)

The process went smoothly. I finished the draft at the end of May, a little under four months after I started it. I had envisioned the full story as being about 70,000 words, but the draft ended up closer to 115,000. Underestimating story length is just an essential element of the trade, though.

A few days after finishing the draft I went on a four-day Oklahoma Darkness Retreat where I had access to zero electronics. The goal was to think about my story deeply and how it could be improved in the editing process.

In this time chamber, where I did nothing except complete crossword puzzles and read The Recognitions by William Gaddis, I came to a realization. There was one element the story needed that wasn't already there.

That element was Sabrina. In the original draft, Sabrina was not present during the scene where Aracely meets the Old Man. She was mentioned obliquely a couple of times in conjunction with Aracely's "psychic powers," but it never really built to anything. There was still a scene where Aracely was interrogated due to her relationship with MOTHER, but only by nameless goons, and the scene lacked tension as it was clear Aracely could talk circles around them.

When I returned from Oklahoma, I prepared for my conception of Sabrina as a character by writing an 8,000 word short story from her perspective, which hashed out an entire backstory for her. Then, I started editing the draft.

For me, a lot of editing is just polish. Usually, cutting out needless sentences and fixing clunky ones, as well as emphasizing a few of the more understated themes and motifs. For instance, during editing, I made slight additions to emphasize the thematic connection between Aracely's suicide attempt and the global war that almost destroyed the world, as well as the connection between the moon and cyclical insanity (lunacy, etymologically, being related to the moon). I made the Old Man more of a Walt Disney-esque figure (from my notes: "a dying Disney"), rewriting much of his dialogue to either be direct quotes or to evoke his ideals. I also expanded on several of the scenes where Toril and Aracely interact to make their relationship more complex and nuanced. I gave MOTHER some new dialogue, including her speech in Chapter 18 about loving a child for the potential it promises, while also paradoxically wanting it to remain a child forever.

The largest changes were in the three chapters I almost fully rewrote. The first was Chapter 8, which as I mentioned earlier was overly terse. In the original draft, it depicted MOTHER as more pathetic, more dependent on Aracely. I decided to make her a more threatening figure, and incorporated a few references to the Moloch sacrifice scene from Valle Verde to make her seem more like a false idol. Similarly, I rewrote Chapter 12, which was originally a very short chapter that focused solely on a conversation between MOTHER and Nilufer that ended with the order to kidnap Aracely. In rewriting the chapter to include Fiorella, I gave myself more opportunity to flesh out the respective philosophies of her and MOTHER (including some of the story's most salient discussions about why cults exist), as well as give more of an insight into the inner workings of RISE as an organization. And lastly, I fully rewrote Chapter 19 to include Sabrina.

The last changes I made in editing were to the final chapter. When I finished the final draft of the story, I sent it to several readers, many of whom had looked at the original drafts of the first chapter, as well as julirites, the author of a Fargo fan fiction called London. There was an immediate and minor backlash to the final chapter, which was originally much more pessimistic, from most people who read it. In the original version, Aracely and Toril were not still in communication. (Fiorella was also dying of cancer instead of jockeying to replace the Old Man.) The finale had a much more somber, sedate, tragic note. Juli and 7th disliked this sad ending, while Gazemaize wanted me to cut the final chapter altogether. I felt confident that the final chapter was necessary, though, and revised it to its current version, which was much better liked.

And then... the story was finished, near the end of July. I crunched the numbers and realized that if I posted two chapters to start and then did a twice-weekly posting schedule, I could end the story serendipitously on October 12. So I did.

IX. Names and Special Thanks

In my Making Of post for Cleveland Quixotic, I had a fairly extensive list of where I got all the character and place names from. The list is a lot less extensive here; most names I constructed for the purpose of sounding evocative, rather than taking them from someplace specific. For instance, I chose the name Aracely Sosa because it sounds like whistling with its repeated S sounds, compared to Toril Lund which is a lot harsher with its consonants. You can see a similar rationale behind names like Fiorella Fiorina, Yui Matsui, and even some of the background characters, like Jacq Ray Johnson, Jr., where there is a lot of emphasis on alliteration and rhyme.

There are a couple of exceptions. Jinjiao is the in-game ID of a longtime Chinese League of Legends pro of middling notability. He picked the name (which means "Golden Horn") as a reference to the Golden Horned King, a villain from Journey to the West.

Lutz, Fiorella's cameraman, was named after an extremely minor character from Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance, who is not playable and only appears in a singular cutscene before being killed. They are so irrelevant that despite naming a character after them, I actually forgot their name, which is Lotz, not Lutz.

Haydn is named after the famous classical composer.

Special thanks to 7th and Elick320 for helping me with the teams and battles. Thanks to Gazemaize and julirites, among others unnamed, for reading and providing feedback. And thank you all for enjoying the story.

[betterthanyalls]

Can u do a Reader x epic various where y/n is apart of Ody's crew and during the end of thunder bringer Zeus kidnaps y/n and takes them to Olympus instead of letting them either drown or get washed up onto Calypso's island?🥰🥰🤩🤩 It'd be cool if during God games or something Athena finds out what Zeus did and now instead of the games being just to free Ody from Calypso's island, it's ALSO about freeing y/n from Olympus and reuniting them with Odysseus?? Sorry if this doesn't make sense or if it's too much work lol, just write this however you want if you even wanna write it at all teehee ^^"

blinks i think i went through 37 different emotions while writing this, most of them were bad. Ok so, I'm not sure how good this is but please don't kill me😇 TW: Zeus gives reader Ganymede treatment

Masterlist

Stolen Soldier

Various (kind of) x Reader

EPIC: The Musical ~ Oneshot ~ Angst

Words: 1.6K

Published: 11-4-2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thunder roared, winds whipped, and waves rocked the lone ship back and forth. Standing on the bow of the ship was a figure of divine power and presence, waiting with a wicked grin. “Choose,” the king of the gods demanded harshly.

“Choose?” Odysseus muttered, looking at Zeus in fear. “Someone’s got to die today, and you have got the final say. You,” he pointed to Odysseus before gesturing to the rest of the crew, “or your crew.”

The captain looked to his crew, locking eyes with Y/n—his best friend, his rock, his shelter. He took a shaky breath, looking back to Zeus in desperation.

“Please don’t make me do this; don’t make me do this,” Odysseus begged. His mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. Looking back at his crew, he saw a range of emotions: anger, hurt, terror, grief, and more. Taking a daring glance at his closest friend, the soldier felt his heart shatter. Holding back tears, Y/n gave him a hesitant nod to show it was ok.

Then, a new voice tore his gaze away from his crew. Looking out over the sea and to the clouds, a figure of familiarity seemed to take place within the clouds. Illusion or not, that was his wife.

Penelope. Odysseus took staggering steps across the shaking boat and to the edge. Both of his hands latched to the wooden railing, his eyes never moving from the clouded position of his partner. Memories flooded his judgment, from his crew and Y/n, to his family waiting for him. “Captain?” A voice of uncertainty spoke up. Eurylochus. The said captain couldn’t even dare face his right-hand man as the sky darkened and Penelope faded back to the clouds.

“I have to see her," Odysseus whispered, tears brimming in his eyes as he finally looked back at his crew. The general saw all of the hurt and betrayal in his men’s expressions. The fear hurt the most to see. “But we’ll die,” Eurylochus pleaded. Odysseus knew he would regret this option until his final breath. Once he got home, how would he tell Ctimene he was the cause of her husband's death? “I know,” Odysseus’ voice broke, a few stray droplets not belonging to the storm washed down his cheeks. 

At the end of those words, the thunder roared, and Zeus grinned evilly. Zeus rose above the clouds, lightning moving to gather in his raised hand.

“Thunder, bring her through the wringer.” The crew drew their weapons in defense, charging towards Odysseus with murderous intent. Y/n stood away from the fight, not daring to lift any sort of weapon against her best friend.

“Show her I'm the judgment call. The one who makes her kingdom fall. Lightning, wield her, use and yield her.” 

As the crew closed in on their captain, the air started to become tense and electrified. Y/n took a step back from the chaos, looking up to see a phenomenon of heavenly power. “Show her what she can’t conceal; her true nature will be revealed.”

A bright light enclosed the surrounding sky, ripping down to the center of the ship. In an instant, a deafening crack sounded, and all light faded to black. Y/n felt like her soul was being ripped apart as she opened her mouth to scream her pain, but no noise came out. Then she felt a drop, only to be brought into a suffocating embrace of cold. Finally, her mind cut out. ~~~~~ Y/n felt different. She didn’t sense the shivering water anymore, but instead a subtle warmth. It took a few minutes, but eventually she managed to peek open her eyes. Y/n wasn’t on a ship in the middle of the sea with the night sky above anymore, but instead there was a grand painting on the ceiling of white marble overhead. Looking around slowly, the young woman saw an unfamiliar scene.

A lavish bedroom surrounded her, furnishings a king could only dream of sitting like average decor in each nook and cranny. Moving her hands, Y/n felt the silk sheets of a glorious bed below her. Ivory blankets fell from her body as she slowly rose up from her position. Placing her feet on the cold marble flooring, the mortal stepped through the room. It wasn’t long before she found herself in front of a floor-length mirror. 

White and gold fabric draped down on her body—a dress fit for a goddess of divine origin. Confusion clouded her eyes as she scanned her new attire. That puzzlement was quickly replaced with fear as two wooden doors opened, revealing an even more confusing sight.

A tall man wearing a white toga entered the room without a care of knocking. Striding to where Y/n stood, she instinctively took steps back from him. “My dear, why do you back away?” The smile on his face was unnerving, especially with the nickname. Y/n recognized that voice immediately, terror coursing through her veins as her lips parted to let out a gasp.

“Zeus.”

The god in question continued to walk towards her with that two-faced smile until he backed the mortal into a wall. “Mmm, you’re as smart as you are beautiful,” he took her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. Y/n shuddered in disgust and fear; her heart raced faster than a chariot racer's steeds. She wanted to push him away, but her body felt locked in place. Y/n tried to speak, but her lips were closed tightly like a stone wall. “Hm, dear, I think I know a dress that’d fit your body much better. Let me help.”

~~~~~

Within only the second morning of the Heavenly Palace, Y/n had the overwhelming urge to jump off. But she wouldn’t be allowed such a pleasure with the god at her side. Zeus had taken it upon himself to guide the mortal on a tour through Olympus, which only influenced her thoughts. 

Y/n kept her eyes on Zeus every second. Not out of intrigue or anything of that sort, but of apprehension. Each movement of his that was near her direction, the mortal would tense up and pause everything. Soon enough, the king of Olypmus noticed and grinned with faux comfort. “Dear, you seem tense. Allow me to ease you.” ~~~~~ Day after day. Weeks after week. Zeus never let Y/n leave his side, threatening any god or goddess who even dared to give her a sympathetic glance. The woman was a shell of who she once was. Her eyes sunk and her soul depleted; she felt her life draining by the day. Not in mortality-wise, no Zeus would never let her perish. But in consideration of her spirit.

Each night she would cry until no more salt would leave, leaving only choking sobs. Each night she was infiltrated by the king of Olympus. Y/n would stare at herself in the mirror, vomit building in her throat as her eyes trailed down to every mark on her body. No spot was untouched. No matter how hard she tried, Y/n could never wash off the sin. The mortal would scrub her skin until she was raw and bleeding, but the phantom touches remained.

Each night she missed her home and friends more and more. Where was Odysseus now? Did he forget all about her when he returned to Ithaca? What about Penelope? Would she miss her best friend? 

Seven years. Seven years of misery, force, and agony. Seven years of physical and mental torture she endured to no fault.

But soon, like all stories, her savior arrived. ~~~~~

Athena stood in front of her father, spear and shield in hand, while staring into the king’s eyes murderously.

“I’ve played your game and won. Release them,” the goddess of wisdom demanded, shifting her gaze to where Y/n stood anxiously beside Zeus’ throne. The mortal had gone through so much, and Athena was determined to save her. 

Zeus glowered down at his daughter, rage covering his expression. “You dare to defy me? To make me feel shame?” He growled, his fists clenching so tight that his knuckles turned a bright alabaster. “No one beats me; no one wins my game!”

The lightning god stood up threateningly, his hands glowing a static yellow. “Thunder, bring her through the wringer!” The air was caught in Y/n’s throat at the familiar words, her eyes wide in horror. Zeus rose up, the electricity in his hands growing as the woman noticed the alarmed looks on the other god’s expressions. “Show her I’m the judgment call, the one who makes her kingdom FALL!” With a vociferous burst, he threw the lightning at his daughter, forcing her back onto the floor. Once the light faded, everyone looked to see the warrior lying face down, her body still as ice. “Is she dead?” the voice of her brother Ares asked hesitantly. Y/n thought back to every moment her and Odysseus had been with Athena. They were an unstoppable force together. Now though, Y/n only wanted to rush to the goddess side.  Before anyone could do anything, Athena struggled to her feet, holding her aegis in defense while pointing the spear tip to her father.

Zeus’ look of utter shock soon turned to rage at her defiance. In response, he sent a barrage of bolts towards his favorite child. Against this attack, the war patroness held her shield strong and pushed against the force, making her way to her father.

Finally, at the feet of the king, she grabbed his arm and fell to her knees.

“Let them go, please. Let them go.” Her plea was finished as the goddess collapsed, her breath slowing to a stop.

[mlahulia]

palette challenge

[roanofarcc]

WORTH YOUR WHILE

pairing. Tyler Owens x fem!reader

summary. as the local weather woman, you shared an interesting rivalry with your hometown storm-chaser. while you always reported on the dangerous weather from a safe distance, tyler barreled into it head-first. but things change the night of the county fair when you find yourself in the middle of a storm rather than in the safely of a newsroom. 

warnings. dramatic fluff, hurt/comfort, description of tornados, a curse word or two, description of injury, slightly inaccurate meteorological info.

word count. 2.9k || masterlist

a/n. hopping on the glen powell bandwagon bc he and daisy absolutely killed it in twisters!! feel free to send me requests for tyler, kate, and javi!

“If you keep looking at him like that your face will get stuck in a scowl, which is really bad for television,” your friend said, leaning into your side. With a roll of your eyes, you managed to pull your attention away from the self-titled ‘tornado wrangler’ who had stirred up a fuss in the line for funnel cakes. People buzzed all around him as he signed shirts and took photos, never dropping his smile that you often dreamed about smacking right off of his face. 

You had grown up alongside Tyler Owens, never as friends but as friends of friends. After you both split off for school to study meteorology, you returned to your hometown for very different reasons. Tyler started in the business of storm chasing, live streaming his adventures to people all across the internet who sensationalized the dangerous weather, and you scored a job as your hometown’s Weather Woman. Your job was to warn people about the threat of tornados while his was to drive head-on into them. 

That was where you two drew your lines in the sand when it came to each other. He thought you were scared of taking risks while you thought his thrill-seeking was stupid and would eventually get him or one of his team members hurt. Those opinions on each other's job led to you two butting heads every time you encountered one another. His mere presence was enough to annoy you, especially at your favorite event of the summer, the fair. 

“Look who it is,” Tyler’s voice sounded near you and your friend nudged your arm in the direction of it. You looked away from her just as he approached you, tipping his hat and flashing his teeth in a smile. “Didn’t know they still let you out of the newsroom these days.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest, as the air of arrogance surrounding him nearly choked you out. “Don’t you have a tornado to chase?” you asked, wanting to end the conversation before it fully started. Unfortunately, he never seemed put off by your jabs, but he was assumed by them. 

“I took the night off,” he replied. “I wanted to see if there was anything worth my while here tonight.” 

You raised your brows. “Oh really?” He nodded, smiling brightly at you. “Find anything yet?” 

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’d be easier if she answered my phone calls.” 

Tyler disliked you a whole lot less than you disliked him. After you graduated and he started storm chasing, he tried at every given opportunity to get you to join his team. Even years later he still tried to, no matter how many times you told him the risk he was putting himself and his team in every time they barreled into a storm cell. He was relentless but you were happy where you were at. You wanted to help people when it came to severe weather, not make the storm look enticing for internet audiences. 

“I already told you, I’m not interested.” Storm chasing was a dangerous game that you had no intention of playing. Being from the Midwest, you had lived through your share of tornados. Chasing them was not in apart of your career path.

His smile faded slightly before he seemed to snap back to himself. “All I’m saying is, we could use a mind like yours out in the field.” The compliment was nice, you could admit that to yourself, but it wouldn’t win you over. He knew that too. “But suit yourself.” And with that he walked off, meeting up with the rest of his team that joined him at the fair that night. 

Your friend whistled lowly. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said. 

“Do what?” 

“Say no to a man like that.” You rolled your eyes once more as the line you were in moved. As she stepped forward to order, you threw a quick glance over your shoulder in the direction Tyler had walked off in. You saw him happily chatting with his team before glancing back at you for just a moment before you returned your gaze forward.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of colorful lights, sticky heat, and enough fried food to make your stomach ache in the best possible way. Your friend left after a couple hours of roaming the prize barns and laughing at the kids screaming their heads off on the carnival rides, but you stuck around for a little longer, relishing in the sweet nostalgia the fair brought you. 

Before you had taken a couple of well-deserved days of work, you and your team had predicted a storm front moving. Later that night was supposed to bring rainfall and a thunderstorm or two popping up around the county and neighboring areas. You thought you’d have plenty of time to roam the fair for a little longer until it hit, but you noticed the shift in the weather almost immediately. The sudden uptick in wind pricked the back of your neck as the distant rumble of thunder echoed above the fair chaos. 

It was difficult to predict everything, that you had learned early on in your career. It also was hard to predict how quickly weather could change from bad to deadly. One moment you’re gazing up through the lights into the night sky, trying to gauge the incoming storm, and the next, the sirens are blaring across the fairgrounds. 

The crowd of people running in every direction made the walkways hazardous. You were knocked into and jostled around as you tried to run toward the restrooms that doubled as storm shelters. They were clear at the opposite end of the walkway, but they were your closest option. You dodged and weaved through the swarms of people, trying to stay on your feet. 

You only made it halfway to the shelter when you were stopped by the awful cries of a little girl who sat under the counter of one of the carnival games. She hugged her knees to her chest and called out for her mom, but no one who rushed by stopped. You didn’t think twice before you sidestepped the fleeing crowd and crouched down in front of the little girl. The wind picked up significantly, blowing the cheap prizes right out of the booths and sending everything flying around and knocking into people. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” you raised your voice above the howl of wind and frantic people. 

“My mom!” she cried harder. “I lost her. I don’t know where she is!” 

You glanced back up at the sky. The lightning strikes illuminated the massive, dark mass moving in quickly. “Come with me, and I’ll help you find her, okay?” 

The noise all around grew louder, frightening the little girl, along with yourself, but as you outstretched your hand, she took it, and you quickly pulled her to her feet before you both took off running. The speakers urged everyone to seek shelter immediately, but you watched as people raced in the opposite direction of the shelters, probably bee-lining to cars in an awful call. They’d never out race it. 

“Charlotte!” Someone screamed and the little girl whipped her head around before she tugged hard on your hand. From behind you, the little girl’s mother appeared, immediately scooping up her daughter in her arms. “Oh my, God. Thank you!” she said, looking at you with teary eyes. 

“We have to take cover,” you told her, gently pushing her forward. “The shelter’s just up that way.” She thanked you again before she took off with her daughter in her arms. You wanted to follow, it was stupid not to when the wind gusts became more powerful, rattling everything dangerously and making it hard to think. But there were more people unsure of where to go and what to do. Groups of kids who had been dropped off for the evening stumbling frantically out of the rides and still dizzy. You stepped from the path and tried to direct people as best you could, shouting in tune with the speaker and the sirens for them to hurry into the shelter. 

It wasn’t until larger objects were plucked from the ground and tossed into the air like paper did you abandoned your aiding. The tornado screeched to life, ripping apart pieces of the show barns and rides with ease. You tried to close the distance between yourself and the shelter once more, but it wasn’t people in need that stopped you, it was a sheet of metal pried from the side of one of the food trucks. You tried to dodge the hurling objects, but the sheet came at you hard and fast. 

It sliced your shin, sending a wave of pain up through the rest of your leg. You stumbled, determined to stay upright, but the wind was too strong for your limping figure, and you toppled against the concrete, slamming your knees against the ground before you rolled over into the lousy shelter of a game’s tent somehow still standing. 

Panic started to set in as the storm raged around you, loud and monstrous. You covered your wound with your hands, unsure of where the blaring of the tornado ended and the fast-paced beat of your heart started, drumming in your ears and beating against your skull. You knew you couldn’t stay there, but leaving was just as dangerous as every attraction of the fair swirled around in the air. The cut from your leg painted your hands red and throbbed; it would only slow you down if you tried to run, creating even more of a risk. 

You didn’t know what to do. All of your life, the storms you had faced you’d always been lucky enough to find shelter in plenty of time, from the cellar in your backyard to your high school’s basement created just for such an occasion. 

Through the freight train sounding winds and your thundering heart, you heard a couple of voices that had to be close. Tearing your eyes away from the cut on your leg, you watched as another group of people sprinted down the walkway as someone yelled behind them to run. 

In all of your life, you’d never been so relieved to see Tyler Owens’s face standing just a few feet away; he hadn’t spotted you, and for a terrifying moment you thought he’d be unable to hear you yell out above the screaming storm. But somehow, he did. His head snapped in your direction, rain-coated and windblown, looking both out of sorts and in his element. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled as he ran over to you, dodging flying debris that grew larger by the minute. The second he crouched down in front of you, his eyes flickered onto your legs, and the blood seeping out between your fingers as you tried to keep pressure on the wound. 

“I thought I’d just hang out here,” you said, your sarcasm watered down by the fear clear in your teary eyes.

His brows furrowed, deep in thought for a moment as he looked between you and the distance there was still to cross to the only close shelter. Without saying a word, he peeled off his wet flannel, leaving himself in a shirt that was already nearly soaked through as the sideways rain beat down against the both of you. “I’m gonna tie this around your leg and then we’re gonna run, okay?” 

You shook your head frantically. The ache in your legs was intense and you had already lost a good amount of blood, not enough to make you woozy but you were well on your way. It felt like your heart had crawled up your throat, making it hard to breathe as panic soaked you to the bone along with the rain. Everything around you seemed to be ripped from the ground, even the anchored tent you were under was seconds away from being picked up. 

“Hey,” he said, grabbing a hold of your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “It’ll be alright. You gotta trust me, though.” The sincerity shined in his eyes, bright as the rest of the power around you flickered wickedly. With a nod of your head, you dropped your hands from your leg and let him tie the flannel around your cut. As he pulled it tight, you cried out in pain. “I’m sorry,” he kept repeating until it was knotted. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and helped you up, looping an arm around your waist as you slung an arm around his shoulders. 

“Ready?” You didn’t get a chance to respond as the tent you were under was plucked from the ground, anchors and all, and flung backward into the tornado as it tore through the front entrance of the fairgrounds. Tyler took off, giving you no choice but to follow. 

You two stayed low, trying desperately to avoid the flying objects. With each step your leg burned, but Tyler’s hold on you was strong, not giving any room for you to lag behind or slip away. It felt like hours of running, but it was no more than a minute or two before you reached the shelter. The only major injury between the two of you was your leg, otherwise, you both collected a series of little cuts and bruises from your journey. 

Stumbling into the restroom, you were met with a hoard of scared fairgoers. You two managed to find a spot to slot yourself in with everyone else. He helped you lower yourself to the floor back in the corner just as the tornado was fully on top of you. You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your head. Tyler sat flushed against your side; you felt his hands rest over the top of yours as the building rattled violently. Squeezing your eyes shut, you refused to see the damage until the howl of wind subsided and people started to stir. 

Once it was over, everyone stumbled out of the shelter, getting jumbled together as police and ambulances rushed to the scene. Amongst people pushing and shoving to find their loved ones and get the hell home, you and Tyler were separated and before you could look for him, an EMT caught sight of your bloodied leg and ushered you to one of the ambulances. 

You sat on the back after the EMT stitched up your leg, looking over the torn-apart fairgrounds. Debris was littered everywhere, food trucks and carts overturned and some demolished, and rides were dislocated and strewn about in pieces. 

You clutched the bloodied flannel to your chest, shivering in the loss of adrenaline and temperature drop, and watched the sea of people until a familiar face popped into view, looking a little frantic as he stumbled through the crowd looking like he was in search of something. His eyes finally settled on you before he quickly pushed his way through the crowd until he reached you. 

“Hi,” you greeted, smiling tiredly. 

“I was looking for you everywhere,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath. “I looked away for a second and you were gone and-” You continued to smile, and he stopped himself. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Nothing,” you replied quietly before clearing your throat. “I, um, I just wanted to thank you. And I’m sorry for ruining your flannel.” You gestured to the ruined piece of clothing resting in your lap. 

Tyler was quiet for a moment, looking at the large bandage around your shin. “Don’t mention it,” he said, brushing off your thanks like he hadn’t just pretty much saved your life. “What were you doing out there anyway?” 

You sighed, feeling a creep of embarrassment up your spine. You should’ve known better but at the moment you just wanted to help people and had little regard for your own safety, until your leg was sliced open, that was. “There were people still out there, trying to figure out where to go. I was trying to help.” 

“That was stupid,” he said. “But brave. Stupidly brave, maybe.” 

“Funny. I think I’ve said the same thing about you a time for two.” 

His signature smirk slowly fell onto his lips. “Not to my face.”

“Oh, no. Never.” 

Tyler laughed, gently patting your knee, lingering for a moment before he dropped his hand back at his side. Someone called out your name, and you spotted your friend running back through the crowd. She had called you as soon as you had made it to the ambulance and told you she’d come back to take you home. 

“You should get some rest,” he said. “I’ll see you around.” As he turned around to walk away, you called out to him. 

“Tyler, wait.” He paused. “You should try calling me again. Maybe I’ll answer this time.” Breaking out in a grin, he tipped his hat in another goodbye, leaving you with a new feeling stirring inside your chest. 

Bonus! 

Hours later, after you had cleaned yourself up, you were tucked into bed, reading by the lamp light knowing sleep was probably far off after the events of the night. You didn’t expect your phone to ring that late into the night, and when you glanced at it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the caller ID, but that time it was something besides annoyance that you felt. 

You answered, discarding your book on your nightstand. “You don’t waste any time do you,” you teased. 

“What I can say,” Tyler said on the other line. “I know when I find something worth my while.” 

[hairmetal666]

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.

Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.

It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.

The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).

That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.

He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.

Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.

Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.

---

He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.

"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."

Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."

"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."

"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"

"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."

"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.

"How long you in detention for?"

"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "

"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"

"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"

They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.

The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.

---

He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.

It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.

He wishes he could tell Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.

They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.

Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.

He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--

He wants

---

Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.

He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.

Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.

It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.

Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.

He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"

"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."

Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"

In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.

"You should be safe here," Eddie says.

Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"

"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."

Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"

"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to."

"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"

"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."

"You're giving me too much credit, man."

"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."

His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."

Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"

Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"

"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."

He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"

Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.

"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.

Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."

"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.

He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.

Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."

"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."

"I have a character."

"What???"

"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"

"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"

Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."

Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"

He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."

"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.

"If you're lucky." Steve beams.

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[roastedoatmilk]

Who Kissed Nanami?

Kento Nanami x GN! Reader

Summary: The first year trio see that someone left lipstick on Nanami’s collar so they decide to play detective and figure out who it was

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: literally so much fluff, the first years follow nanami, heavily implied itafushi, some sprinkles of nobamaki, nanami and reader being disgustingly in love with each other

Little Things Masterlist

This was also posted on ao3

A/N This was heavily inspired by a selfship commission i have from my lovely friend cassecreeoute let me know if y’all would like to see it :D

Something was different about Nanami, that much Yuji could tell. He wasn’t quite sure what it was but the stoic man seems to have a bit more pep in his step as of late. While out on missions Nanami seemed more adamant than usual to leave at exactly 6pm, making quick work of whatever it is that’s keeping him. On multiple occasions the pink haired boy has caught his mentor smiling at his phone; two things that the man doesn’t often do. On this day in particular the elder man came into work with a faint red mark peeking up from almost right under where the collar of his shirt meets his neck causing alarm bells to go off in the boy’s head. Yuji decides that his best course of action is to go to Fushiguro and Kugisaki with his findings. He manages to catch Fushiguro while he’s leaving his dorm only offering a small “Need to talk to you.” before grabbing the spiky haired boy by the hand and dragging him down the hallway.

They managed to find Kugisaki sitting beside Maki in the courtyard, the two girls leaning over a phone discussing something in hushed voices. As the boys drew closer they were able to catch a bit of their conversation. 

“I’m telling you Maki he’s obviously hiding something.” Nobara whispers to her elder classmate before continuing.”Nanami doesn’t seem like the type to share stuff like that anyways.” 

Maki nods along before looking up and seeing the two boys approaching them, still holding hands with each other. A smirk grows on the green haired girl’s face seeing this before she stands up and says her goodbyes to the trio. The boys make their way over to their counterpart sitting down next to her. Nobara looks the two boys up and down in annoyance.

“What do the two of you want?” The ginger girl huffs, “I was having a conversation you know.”

Yuji flushes in embarrassment, lowering his head before responding in a hushed voice “I think Nanamin has someone special in his life, I’ve noticed some stuff about him lately.” 

Hearing this Nobara visibly perks up giving the cursed boy her full attention, grabbing him by the shoulders she shakes him while saying “Why didn’t you start with that, tell me everything you know right now!” 

“Kugisaki, if you expect him to answer you need to stop shaking him.” Megumi says, speaking for the first time since Yuji dragged him to the courtyard. 

The elder girl stopped shaking the boy, giving him a break so that he can say his findings. Taking a deep breath Yuji then tells the two everything that he has noticed, even showing them the photo he sneakily took of the mark on Nanami’s neck. Nobara snatched the phone out of his hands to examine the photo further, zooming in as close as possible on the photo.

“I definitely recognize that shade of lipstick, a bit too red for my taste personally.” The girl speaks before handing the phone back to its owner.

Yuji pockets his phone, collecting his thoughts for a moment before declaring “I think we need to investigate where Nanami is going after work, he told me he has somewhere to be tonight.” 

A bewildered look crosses Megumi’s face as he listens to the boy next to him, not really wanting to spend his night following the blond stoic man around. However Nobara seems equally as determined as the pink haired boy to figure out what Nanami is hiding. The two of them lean into each other and whisper ideas of where the man could be heading to. 

Later that night at exactly 6pm Nanami stands from his desk, paperwork already completed, and starts to head out for the night. The first years watch as the door to his office opens and he walks out, heading straight for the entryway of the school. The three students spring into action, following behind the man at a reasonable distance. 

They watch as the man pulls out his phone and calls someone the second he walks through the school’s barrier. Yuji and Nobara gasp as they see the man smile as he says he’ll meet whoever is on the other end of the line at a restaurant a few blocks away, their jaws drop even more as they hear the man say that he loves the person and that he’ll see them soon. Nobara grabs the two younger boys and forces them into a group huddle. 

“He’s definitely seeing someone, we need to follow him to the restaurant and find out who it is.” The girl whispers conspiratorially. Yuji firmly nods agreeing with her while Megumi just sighs before nodding as well. 

The three continue following behind the taller man, making sure to keep their distance. When he arrives at the restaurant he visibly perks up when he sees a person sitting at one of the tables by the window. Making his way inside the trio watch as he walks over to the person, coming up behind them and placing his hands over their eyes causing the person to laugh as they try and guess who it is covering their eyes. Nobara and Yuji’s eyes widen as they watch the person remove his hands from their eyes then stand up and turn around to face Nanami, placing a kiss on his lips leaving behind a mark in the same shade as the one on his neck. Nobara lets out a squeal so loud that it causes the two lovers’ heads to snap in her direction. The first years freeze in place knowing that they are now caught spying on the older man. 

Nanami lets out a deep sigh, pinching his fingers between his eyes and shaking his head. His partner however just laughs at the shocked faces of the kids, leaning into Nanami’s shoulder for support. The older man's shoulders now bouncing as he also chuckles at the kids. The three stand there in complete shock watching the two adults laugh at their expense. 

“W-we are so sorry for following you Nanamin, we just had noticed some stuff about you lately and wanted to find out what it meant.” Yuji stutters, his face completely red at this point. 

“Yeah!” Nobara chimed in, “Besides it was Itadori’s idea in the first place I was just following along.” This caused the pink haired boy to bow his head in shame, nodding along to the words of the older girl. Megumi stands with the two before waving shyly at you, his face a vibrant shade of pink. 

You laugh even harder at the three students before making your way over to them standing in front of the trio. Nanami follows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s very nice to meet you two and it’s nice to see you again Megumi.” You say to the kids, your voice gentle as if talking to a baby deer.  A bright look in your eyes as you speak to the kids. 

Yuji’s head shoots up towards Megumi at hearing that the dark haired boy had met you before, Megumi refusing to look at his friends mutters a “It’s nice to see you again too.” 

Yuji and Nobara round on him after he speaks, the elder girl staring daggers into the green eyed boy. 

“Why didn't you tell us that you knew about Nanami’s partner huh??” Nobara squawks clinging to his arm.

“Do you not trust us, is that it Fushiguro?” Yuji asks with fake tears in his eyes, playing into Nobara’s act.

Megumi frees himself from Nobara before he tentatively reaches out to hook his pinky around the pink haired boy’s own. Megumi takes a few moments before speaking to his friends in a soft tone, “It just wasn’t my place to reveal that sort of information, I figured they were keeping it a secret for a reason.” 

The other two nod in understanding, giving up the act they had been putting on finding his reason acceptable. Yuji locks his pinky around Megumi’s in response. The two boys shyly looked at each other before the clearing of a throat caused their heads to snap up. Nanami and you are still standing there watching the trio, a small smile gracing both of your faces. 

“Have any of you eaten yet?” The tall blond man asks the trio, his voice soft. The three shake their heads in response, and on queue Yuji’s stomach starts to growl. Causing everyone to let out a laugh. 

“Come on kiddos, let's get you guys some food before you have to go back to school.” You say, ushering the kids into the restaurant. 

The three sitting in the booth across from where Nanami and yourself sit. You spend the next few hours getting to know the kids as you all eat. Answering any of the questions that the trio had. After all of the food was eaten and the kids ran out of questions, Nanami paid the bill before telling the kids that he’ll walk them back to the school. The three groan not yet wanting to go back but follow the elder man anyways. Before they leave Nanami gives you a peck on the lips, a smile gracing his face as he looks at you. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I make sure that they’re all back in their dorms.” The freckled man murmurs, placing yet another peck on your lips. You laugh at the man before nodding and turning to the kids. 

“It was lovely meeting you both Itadori and Kugisaki, and it was great seeing you again Fushiguro.” you tell the trio. Wrapping the three of them into a quick hug. 

“It was nice meeting you too.” Yuji and Nobara blurt at the same time causing you to smile even wider at them. 

“It was good to see you again.” Megumi mutters his face still pink from embarrassment.

You let the three go and Nanami ushers them towards the exit, the three dragging their feet behind him. Laughing at the kids as you watch them go, you hope that you’ll be able to have dinner with the trio again soon.

A/N here’s part two i had tons of fun writing this i hope y’all enjoy it as always lmk what y’all think in the comments 🫶🏻

[missberrycake]

I’ve been thinking this morning about if Steve didn’t get back together with Nancy at the end of S1—I think there’s a lot of different ways that could go, but what if Steve ended up as one of Eddie’s lost little sheep?

Because even if Steve was popular enough to keep afloat in the choppy waters of high school, after his bust up with Tommy and Carole—and even when he’s seen talking with Nancy and Jonathan Byers of all people—he still doesn’t really have any true friends left. Sure, he has people he can chat to in class, but at lunch? After school? Nobody is really thinking about who ex-jock, ex-bully Steve Harrington is hanging around with. 

Perhaps he spends the rest of his junior year dreading lunch hour, because he knows he’s going to have to deploy some serious charm tactics—taking as long as he can in the queue, chatting to the students either side of him—and perhaps if he lingers long enough at one of the tables of his more social classmates, pretends he’s just catching up, carrying on a conversation from class, he can make it seem like it’s all still as easy as it was before. 

Sometimes, though, he doesn’t have the energy to pretend. On those days he’ll retreat quietly to his car and eat his lunch behind his wheel, wondering how different it might have been if he’d never gone back into the Byers’ house that day last fall.

It’s on one of those days that Eddie sees him. It’s not like Eddie hadn’t noticed him before, he’s always on the lookout, after all, and Steve Harrington is one of those people who always drew his eye. He’d seen him scouring the cafeteria while queueing up for his state-mandated mac ‘n’ cheese, searching for a space where he could fit. 

And, of course, he’d heard the whispers about Steve—that he’d punched Tommy H in the face, gotten his crown beaten from his head by Jonathan Byers (though he didn’t seem to hold a grudge). If there’s one thing to know about Eddie, it’s that he’s a bleeding heart, and so when he sees Steve sitting alone in his car, winter frost glittering against the metal, he lets out a heavy sigh and trundles over. 

“Hey, Harrington,” he says, pushing down a smirk when Steve jumps (he is easily startled these days, isn’t he?).

“Munson,” Steve replies with narrow eyes. He doesn’t trust Eddie yet, not entirely. 

“There’s more space in my van. If you wanted some company.”

Eddie leaves it like that, keeps it casual, knows that he might get it shoved right back in his face—expects it to be, even. And so he’s surprised at how quickly Steve nods back at him, a real smile breaking out on his face, if only for a moment, until Steve clears his throat and says, “Sure, yeah. That’d be cool, I guess.”

It’s the start of something big. A delicate balance where the two of them pretend that it’s not that important, but somehow they’re more honest with each other than they’ve ever been with anyone else. Steve tells Eddie all about how he doesn’t even really know who he is anymore, and in return Eddie shares just how worried he is that he knows exactly who he’s expected to be, and that he can’t change his fate even if he wanted to.

By the time the next school year starts, it’s well established with the school population that Steve Harrington has somehow landed himself with an honorary spot in the Hellfire Club. He doesn’t play—refuses to learn, even if it’s clear that he’d do pretty much anything else that Eddie Munson would ask of him—but he helps set up the meetings, sits with them at lunch, smiles stupidly whenever Eddie gets up onto the cafeteria tables to rant about the shallow-mindedness of his peers. 

And if Eddie’s diatribes are directed at the popular crowd with a little more venom than they used to be, and if he seems to take great pleasure whenever Tommy H, or Carole, or those posers on the basketball team frown and scoff and sneer at him, it’s no great secret to everyone else in the lunch hall exactly why. 

[Yeah, I'm scouring the archives and trying to salvage as many headcanons as I can from my old deleted account, but let's just pretend this is brand new content.]

[littlemissmiller]

𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: the summer before you graduated college, Joel Miller became a regular at the bar you worked. he was perfect except one small problem…you already have a boyfriend

Warning: 21+ (drinking), fluff, slight age gap (reader is in her early 20s and Joel is 30) smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, slight body worshipping, porn with plot

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: i did it! i finally wrote a fic to live up to my blog name! i’m so proud of this one y’all like omg…i love it, it’s so perfect. such a cute lil fluffy smut (≧◡≦) ♡ also still can’t get over the fact that people like my little hobby, so thank you for all the love! it only encourages me to write more. speaking of which, i have so many stories for the summer coming up, especially with tom blyth coming back as billy. i already have a few stories started so hopefully they will be out sooner rather then later. ok that’s it i have nothing more to say. enjoy ❣︎

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It was your last summer before graduating college and being home made you want to cherish your last year even more. You were looking forward to it and ready to be done bartending so you could see your friends and have some real fun. Sure, this job made you a ton of cash, but being home was nothing in comparison to being with your college friends in a town totally catered to you and your fellow students. Although your hometown had its perks. At least it used to. Your longtime boyfriend had never left your hometown or went to college. He had instead opted for going into a trade and becoming an electrician.

Your relationship was strong at first, but every semester it became harder and harder to navigate. Time after time you had convinced yourself that he was still your best friend, but meeting new people in college and getting to experience the joys of youth on your own for the first time, had given you a lot of perspective. So every birthday, holiday, and summer, you felt like you were coming home to a completely different man. Yet you stayed with him because you really wanted to make it work and you told yourself you loved him. Yet something unexpected had happened. One evening at work, a group of men came in to watch the Rangers game. That’s when you first met him and that’s the night Joel Miller would become a regular at your bar.

He was clearly older, at least thirty, but you couldn’t help but practically gawk at him all night. And you couldn’t help but think that Joel was eyeing you too. But you felt a wave of guilt overcome you. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this. You knew you shouldn’t be staring down another man like that but you couldn’t help it. But his arms looked so strong, like he could carry you effortlessly. You couldn’t help the way you smiled every time he would share a boisterous laugh with his friends. His own sweet smile drew you in and you noticed he had the cutest cheek nimble on top of it. From his big chiseled nose to his perfectly crafted jawline, he was an absolute Adonis. Just then another wave of guilt washed over you and you tried to shake away your feelings of disloyalty as you walked into the kitchen, putting their food order in.

As you walked out of the kitchen and brought them their next set of drinks, you tried not to look at him so much but it’s hard not to. Then he spoke up.

“Hey darling? Could I get some more napkins when you get the chance?”

“Yeah sure!” You scurried off and came back immediately

He smiled at you as he thanked you which made your heart flutter. As you made your way back to the kitchen, another server catches up to you.

“Who’s the handsome cowboy at 13?” She asked

“Oh” you started “I’m not sure. Are you talking about the man in the white shirt?” You lied acting like she was talking about someone else

“Girl, don’t play. I can see him undressing you right now”

You glanced over, and caught him smiling at you while he sipped his beer. You started to smile back, when the guilt hit you again and you turned back to your co-worker.

“Oh…yeah…h-he is handsome yeah…but not like I’m interested.” You lied again

“Okaaay whatever you say…” she said unconvinced, rushing off to her table

Joel and his buddies left around 9 and you noticed that Joel leaves the biggest tip out of everyone. Around 10 o’ clock you clocked out and headed to your boyfriend’s house where you had planned on spending the night. Once you arrived, you walked straight into his room where he was playing some PC game. His back was towards you and he didn’t notice you at first with his big headset on. You hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. He startled and you jumped back.

“Woah! Hey! Your home” he remarked, clutching his chest, barely glancing at you “Jesus you scared me.”

“Clearly” you giggled

“God don’t sneak up on me like that. Could have cost me the game” he sighed, as he returned his full attention to the screen.

“What ya playing?

“COD” he remarked dryly

“Are you gonna be finishing soon?” You inquired

“Ahh probably not. I figured you’d be too tired to hang after your shift so I told the boys I’d be on tonight.”

“I thought you said we would watch a movie after work tonight?”

“Oh yeah, I mean I don’t know I just kinda figured you’d want to go to bed when you got home. Plus you fall asleep to every movie we watch together”

“Yeah” you sighed in disappointment, wanting to follow it up with “but that’s not the point.” You knew he’d get upset at you for pulling him away from his game. “I just want to cuddle you.”

“Ok ok I got ya. I’ll be in bed soon, ok.” He said halfhearted, still not looking at you.

You changed into a pair of sweat shorts and an old shirt and got ready for bed. As you climb into bed you want to cry. And you questioned your guilt from tonight. Maybe it was because it had been a while since a man seemingly flirted with you that made you realize just how lousy your boyfriend has become. When was the last time he genuinely made you feel special? You fell asleep, but were woken up by small kisses on your neck, but your boyfriend began to move more aggressively, trusting and grinning his crotch against your ass. At that point you’re too tired for sex, and all you wanted was for him to hold you and care for you.

“Mmm babe I’m really tired” you whined

“I thought you wanted attention?” He asked, continuing his actions. You pushed away slightly but he continued, only pulling you closer against his chest.

“I do, just not like this. Not right now ok? I just want to sleep.”

He sighed, turning over

“See this is why I don’t want to do a movie with you. I knew you would be too tired.”

“That’s not…” you wanted to finish your sentence again and say “that’s not fair” but once again that would probably upset him and now he was annoyed with you so you don’t want to push it. “I just want to sleep now ok.”

“Ok. It’s fine. Goodnight.” He huffed, falling asleep.

The next couple of shifts your mind is preoccupied by your newfound feelings about your relationship. Your boyfriend wasn’t abusive by any means, but it was clear the relationship wasn’t healthy anymore. That’s when the crying at work started. Mainly because you had just come from his house before each shift and every interaction with him pained you. The only thing that kept you from continuously calling off was Joel. Almost every shift around 5 o’clock he would come in, order a few beers, maybe something to eat, and chat it up with you.

By the third week, all your co-workers were teasing you about him. Whenever his truck would pull up in the parking lot, someone would come get you.

“Your cowboy is here!” Someone yelled out to you, stepping out of the kitchen. You left the servers station to greet him.

“Hey Joel! Mich Ultra? You asked

“You know it darling. How you’ve been?” He smiled, causing you to practically melt into a puddle. You gathered yourself and smiled back at him.

“About the same as the last time you saw me.”

“And still as beautiful as ever.” He winked

“You flatter me Mr. Miller. I bet Mrs. Miller is one special lady hmm?” You asked more or less trying to see if he was actually flirting with you or just being nice.

“She would if there was one.”

“Oh I thought you said you have a daughter?” You questioned more

“And a man can’t be a single dad in this world? How sexist of you” he chuckled sarcastically

You rolled your eyes at him and laughed along.

“I just thought such a handsome cowboy as yourself would have a beautiful gal to go home to.”

“I wish…” he sighed, eyes giving you a once over

“So where is she then? Your daughter? If not with her mom. You know we allowed kids in before 9 right?”

“Yeah, she just has soccer practice at this time three days a week. I figured why not wait for her to be done and come see you since I’m out and about.” He explained

“Ain’t you just a charmer.” I’ll get you that beer.”

You walk over to behind the bar and fetch Joel his beer.

“He’s just all over you” one of the bartenders remarked

“And he tips well too.”

“Gee I wonder why” they smirked, giving you a look “how does your boyfriend feel about him?”

“I mean he’s just a customer. They flirt all the time and who doesn’t like the extra cash?” You started quickly

“Mhmm sure” they said

You walk back to him, bringing him his beer and continuing to chat with him. He ordered another beer then left to go pick up his daughter Sarah.

Now every time at work shift, it felt like an escape. It also felt like a fantastic secret that only you knew about. A fantasy being played out in real life. Joel was so charming.

Even though he was older, his youthful demeanor shone through. He was caring too. If he wasn’t asking about you and your life, he was talking about his daughter. You could tell she was his world. He absolutely adored her, and you loved to listen to him go on and on about her. You didn’t quite care what your co-workers would say or how your boss didn’t like that you hovered around his table, sometimes neglecting your other ones.

But he couldn’t complain too much given Joel was a respectful, paying customer. And a great tipper. And he would always leave a little note on his receipt. Nothing too flirtatious, just innocent enough to toe the line. This went on for a couple more weeks, your boyfriend none the wiser. Not like he was paying much attention to you anymore. Every note, you would take them and make sure to hide them when you got home. You stored them in your sock drawer and kept them secret like everything else about him. You still felt guilty though and realize that you need to end things with your boyfriend. It’s harder than you thought and truthfully you don’t know how to leave someone you’ve cared about that much. And been with for so long. But talking to Joel made you realize what you needed. And what you wanted. And you wanted him. And something told you he wanted you too.

Then back at home, living with your boyfriend it was a totally different reality. He felt so disconnected from you, so indifferent. And the more you faded away from him the less you felt like you really loved him still. And he noticed you pulling away from him. One night, you came home and had kept another one of Joel’s receipts.

“See you Wednesday :) Joel”

You left your server book out on his bed, along with your purse and hopped into the shower without thinking. When you got out of the shower, your boyfriend was sitting on his gamer chair, nose deep in your server book. You froze and tightened the towel around you nervously.

“Oh hey babe. When did you get home? I thought you and the boys were having a boys night? “

“We decided to just get dinner instead. What’s this?” He asked, holding up the receipt.

“Oh, just one of my regulars. Don’t worry about it.” You giggled, trying to play it cool reaching for the book. He holds it back from you and stands up.

“Who’s Joel?”

“My regular” you repeated

“Oh yeah. I bet he tips you well hmm? Pays you lots of attention?” He asked accusatorily.

“I-he…he’s just a regular we get them all the time.”

“Yeah, but you said he is one of YOUR regulars. Why yours? Why is he writing you notes?”

“He-he just always sits in my section I don’t know. That’s not too unusual…and a lot of customers write thank you notes and stuff I can’t control them!” You insisted, readjusting your towel again

“You expect me to believe that?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Well I don’t need creepy men hitting on my girl at work.” He barked back

“He’s not creepy and you’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh then what is he?”

“He’s just a customer!” You argued even though it was a lie

From that moment on, your boyfriend had grown highly suspicious of your relationship with him and Joel. Wednesday rolled around and Joel showed up again as expected. You nervously approached him as he sat down.

“Well hey their sugar” he smiled

“Hey Joel” you replied, only giving him a half smile

He searched your face and could tell something is up.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just life stuff. So Mich Ultra?”

He nodded and you walked off. His eyes followed you, watching you as you went to the bar. You came back and gave him his beer. You wanted to set it down and walk away, but Joel’s concerned eyes beckoned you to say.

“Thinking about food?” You asked him

“Maybe. I’m sorry doll, I don’t mean to pry but if I did anything to put you off-“

“No Joel of course it’s not you it’s just…relationship issues” you huff

“Sorry to hear that sugar. I hope y’all can work it out”

“I hope so” you sigh, knowing it’s a lie.

Just then your boyfriend storms into the bar. You don’t notice him at first, but then you hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching towards you and you look up. Confused, you call out his name.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t visit my girl at work anymore?” He asked glancing at Joel

“Excuse me.” You mumble to Joel, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. You lead him out of the building.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted

“Is that him? Is that Joel?” he sneered

“Why do you care all of a sudden hmm? You’ve barely paid attention to me in the last few months. What happened to us?” You nearly sobbed.

He sighed and shook his head

“What do you want from me? I mean I’m frustrated with you too if that helps. You have completely shut yourself off, don’t tell me shit! I’m upset too! Especially that I know you’re flaunting yourself around weirdo old men.”

“Stop! That’s it, I can't do this anymore. I’m so scared to tell you anything because of how you act when I share your feelings. When I come home, you ignore me and frankly it seems like you only give me affection when you want to fuck me!”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, throwing his arms up.

“Oh my god! You over exaggerate everything. Is this why you’re acting like an attention seeker? Because you think I don’t pamper you?”

“Unbelievable. Pampering really…you know what I’m not arguing with you! I’m done! We’re done!” You shout and storm back into the back

“Done? Really like that? Four years done like that? Fine whatever, be that way, I know you don’t mean it. I’ll see you at home.” And he storms off back to his car.

You wanted to cry as you stormed back into the bar, but you held yourself together.

You tried to hide your clearly upset face as you rushed back into the kitchen and into the back alley next to the dumpsters. Joel noticed and ran out of the bar looking for you. He searched around the building then he called out to you.

“Hey. What’s wrong.”

You can’t help it. One look at him, and you ran into his arms. He embraced you, holding you tight.

“Hey my little firefly…what’s wrong?” He asked, his sweet southern drawl falling like your tears.

“I loved him Joel… why do people stop loving you back…” you sobbed

Joel gently stroked your hair, attempting to calm you down. It didn’t feel strange to be held by him. You felt safe, and comfortable in his arms, despite barely knowing him or even having any interaction with him outside of work, that moment felt right.

“I don’t know darling.” Joel sighed

You eventually gathered yourself and go back inside with him. Your boss thankfully didn’t notice your absence. Joel returned to his table and you returned to your other patrons. After his beer, Joel left and you didn’t really get a chance to see him leave. When you went to collect his tap you saw another note this time with his phone number and it read:

“Gotta go get Sarah. Call me if you need to talk”

Your heart dropped. He had finally given you his number and at the same time you still felt guilty. Even though you had, despite what your now ex-boyfriend thinks, finally ended your relationship. And here the opportunity was. Right in front of you. You look at the receipt, take it, fold it and immediately put it in your pocket to keep it safe. You clock out at ten and are all too eager to get into your car to call Joel. Once you do, you dial the number and it rings.

“Hello?”

“He-hey Joel it’s me…” you uttered

“You ok darling?” He asked sweetly

Maybe it was his voice, the question, or the fact that the weight of the burdens of your life seemed to have fallen apart around you, but you cried again. Letting it all out and at the same time feeling better than ever.

“Hey hey hey” Joel whispered “I just put Sarah to bed…why don’t you come over here? We can talk ok?”

You nodded and sobbed.

“Ok…”

Joel texted you his address and you put it into your GPS. It’s only about a ten minute drive to his house and when you pulled up, you nervously exit your vehicle. You walked up the front door and knocked quietly, not wanting to wake Sarah. A moment later, it swung open and Joel’s handsome face looked at yours with deep concern.

“Come on in.”

You nodded and walked into his home. As expected it’s much nicer than your boyfriends, but then again Joel is an actual adult, with a kid, and mortgage to pay off so it was to be slightly expected. It wasn’t too fancy, just your standard suburban home. You walked over to the couch and Joel followed you.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Honestly I need something a little strong. Got any whiskey?”

He smiled ear to ear.

“Ya betcha.” And he rushed off into his kitchen.

You made yourself comfortable and tried to relax as you looked around Joel’s living room. You curiously strode over to his bookshelf and read the titles. Lots of history books, a few fiction and then you noticed the framed photo of him and his daughter. You realize you’ve never seen a photo of her, but she’s just as beautiful as you could have imagined. You smiled and Joel caught you in your curiosity.

“She’s been my little gem since day one. Just me and her. I don’t think I ever told ya, but her mom left us so…” he remarked.

You looked at him, smiled and nodded.

“She’s beautiful, Joel. You’re a great dad.”

Joel sat the glasses of whiskey down on the shelf and reached for your hand. You gasp slightly, look at where he’s touched you and then look up into his eyes. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“You asked me why people stop loving people back and ya know, I still don’t have a good answer for that. I guess it’s because I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the last twelve years.”

“Joel…you’re such a good man…” you sighed, squeezing his hand.

“You’re too kind darling.” He smiled

“No really.”

You stared at him for a moment. His eyes searched your own looking for what he suspected you wanted from him. He cupped your face and he leaned in to kiss you. His lips fit perfectly against yours, like he was made for you. It was perfect and passionate. He was so gentle, yet you could feel how badly he had wanted this moment with you. He pulled back for a moment to make sure he hadn’t crossed the line.

“Got a bedroom?” You smirked

Before you knew it, Joel was crawling on top of you and you took off your shirt. At the same time he was busy frantically kissing your neck and jaw. He tossed it off and Joel took a moment to admire your chest. He gasped and reached to grope your breasts. Your soft, perky mounds fit perfectly in his hand and he began to massage you. He was in utter awe of you. Almost overwhelmed that he was getting to have you like this. You stared back up at him, equally in awe at that moment.

His big brown eyes melted your heart and all your troubles melted too. Fuck your lousy ex. All you wanted and needed was Joel. He kissed you again as he continued to play with your breasts. You let out a few giggles that turned into harsh, sharp moans as he moved his mouth down your body.

“Fuck…” you whispered, the word dancing around the room.

As his lips trailed you, your body reacted, your hips bucked and you were practically squirming under him. When his mouth found your cleavage, you felt the heat in between your legs grow stronger.

He continued to kiss you, only breaking away to take off his own shirt. He was toned, his skin smooth and he was unbelievably broad. You couldn’t help but admire the way his collar bone met his neckline. It was clean and sharp. You tried not to think of your ex, but in comparison he was not as fit as the gorgeous man in front of you. You placed your hands on his chest and felt his pecs, running your fingers down to his abdomen. You leaned up to kiss him again. His lips were so soft and addictive. You could’ve kissed him all night, but your desires beckoned for more. He held you up slightly and flipped you over. As he did he unhooked your bra and you let it fall off your chest. He tossed it on the ground and admired your bare chest for the first time.

“You’re so gorgeous. “ he uttered as your hair fell in front of you.

He pushed it out of the way and cupped your face. He pulled you back down to capture your mouth once again, lightly gripping the back of your neck. Your bare boobs pressed down against his chest, a feeling which you love. Skin on skin, the close intimacy and the feeling of being wanted more than just something to fuck. That’s how your ex had made you feel the last few months when you and him had sex, so being touched, cherished by Joel made your head spin. You weren’t used to it and you could feel your body reacting to the unfamiliar sensations. Joel noticed.

“Baby, you ok?”

You blushed at the nickname, smiled and nodded.

“It’s just been some time since I felt like this.”

“When’s the last time he touched you?”

“I-I mean we would have sex once or twice a week…”

“When is the last time he really touched you though. Made you feel special?”

You simply stared at him speechless and tilted your head.

“You know what, forget about him. Just focus on me. Let me make you feel good like you deserve.”

With that, he decided to be bold and reached for your mini skirt. He pulled it down past your hips and you lifted them up so he could pull it off you. He tossed it on the ground with your bra and his hands immediately moved to cup your ass. He squeezed the pillowy flesh as you moved your hips. You could feel him getting hard under you and you eagerly reached for his belt. His hands moved up to your waist, rocking you more. You undo his belt and he lifted up his hips to take off his pants. He slid them off along with his boxers, revealing his length. It was perfect. Just the right size, the mushroom tip red and swollen. Encouraged by his actions, you slide your panties off and you are both completely bare in front of each other.

He soaked the sight of your naked beauty in, eyes trailed over all your curves and edges. You were simply divine to him, a work of art. He runs his hands back up to your chest, briefly groping them, his eyes completely focused on your face. You grab his cock and began slowly stroking it. His mouth drops slightly as he watched you. He tilted his head back on the pillow briefly, before he looked back up to watch you. His breathing became ragged and you picked up your pace. You start to move on top of him, guiding his cock to your entrance, but he stops you.

“Let me get you wet.” He insisted, grabbing your hips and flipping you again. Immediately, he kissed down your body, worshiping you. “You’re so perfect. If you were my girl I’d never stop showing you how perfect you are.” He muttered in between kisses.

He kissed your inner thigh before he experimentally rubbed your clit. You gasped, your hips bucked in his face. He smirked at your reaction, loving how you responded to his touch. Taking that as a sign you wanted more, he gently kissed your slit. He gave you another one and another one until the little pecks of his lips turned into the sloppy mess of his tongue. It had been ages since a man had gone down on you like this. Your ex-never warmed you up beforehand anymore, too eager to satisfy his own desire and pleasure. Joel knew how to be a real man. His tongue and lips suck and rub at your core. He moved his head too, adding to the friction. You reached for his brown locks, desperately in need of something to hold onto. He hung onto your hips and he moved you against his face. He moaned against your core, eating you out like you were the most delicious meal of his life. He pulled back, out of breath and drunk in your juices.

“Could taste ya all day darling.”

You nodded as he inserted a finger in you, twisting it. He slowly pumped it into you, curling it up as he added another finger. He watched as your face scrunched up in pleasure. He sped his hand up, totally focused on getting you to finish.

“Joel…Joel…Joel…” you chanted “Gonna cum”

He nodded and worked you a bit more until you tightened down around his digits. You came hard, the euphoria rushed through your body like a roller coaster.

“So beautiful oh my god.” He praised, rubbing your thighs.

He crawled back up to you. He kissed you letting you taste yourself. You hadn’t felt this kind of passion in a while, this intense feeling of intimacy.

“You ready? He asked, slowly rubbing your clit again.

You nodded as he lined himself up with your slit. You felt as his cock pushed past your folds and stretched you out perfectly. You gasped and he kissed your cheek feather light. He cooed at you as he slid in, hitting the back of your cervix. You gasped, which turned into a raspy moan that floated from your lips. Joel cupped your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You two shared in the silence of your pleasure for a moment, taking in how good the other felt. He moved, slow at first then he sped up. He felt so full inside you, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his length. You could have stayed like that all night, the steady motion of his cock pumping into you was pure bliss.

“Does that feel good?” Joel inquired lovingly

“Yes, please Joel I want more. I need more of you.”

Per your request, he gave you more, slightly giving into his own desires to want to ravish you. But given it’s your first time with him, Joel didn’t want a sloppy, lustful encounter. Yet, he picked up his speed, his length now hitting the back of your walls at an almost brutal pace. Joel makes sure to keep checking in on you to make sure you’re okay or that it doesn’t hurt too much. You panted and panted as he continued, gripping onto his waist with your legs, pushing him deeper into you. He moved a bit more then flipped over. You smiled at him, slightly out of breath.

“I want to see that beautiful body riding me. Is that ok?”

You nod enthusiastically, slowly starting to move your hips. Joel’s hands groped your ass, rocking you on him more. He sat up, pressed his lips firmly against yours and held you tight. You started to bounce on him which elicited a guttural moan from his lips. He moved his hand to your hips, looking up at you in awe.

How could anyone not treat you like the absolute treasure you are?

Joel thought and wondered to himself as he held you. He couldn’t believe that your ex-boyfriend would neglect you. What a foolish man, but now he had you. In the exact moment he had imagined. He had you. He moved his hips in sync with yours. You steadied yourself on his shoulders, ecstasy, providing you escape. Your breath hitched as you feel his cock stiffen more inside you. He was close. You didn’t want it to end but then again you had a feeling this wouldn’t be your last encounter with Joel. A few last rocks of your hips and he was spent. He pulled you off him abruptly as he shot his load onto his stomach. You caught your breath, resting your forehead against his. You held his jaw in your hands, settling your hips.

“Joel…” you whispered, the words ghosting over your lips.

“Yes darling..” he whispered back

“Y-you have no idea how much I wanted you like this.”

“I know. Me too, but not just like this. I want you. All of you. Can I please have it?” He nearly begged

Your enthusiasm took over you and you planted a spontaneous kiss on his lips.

“Yes Joel…you can have all of me.”

꧁✩★✩꧂

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐒𝐨 𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 | 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐇𝐨 ♡

Day Fourteen - Cum play

【Synopsis】 : Your roommates decided to play a little game, and you were the prize.

『Word count』 : 3.03k

-> Genre: FWB. Smut. PWP

Pairing: Roommates!WooSanHo x Fem!Reader 

[Warnings] : Dirty talk. Bets. unprotected sex. Multi orgasms. Pet names. Lots of bodily fluids. Listen, this is a mess. Spit. Breats play. Cum everywhere. Cum eating. Possessive Jongho. Switch!Wooyoung. Soft Dom!San. Power Dom!Jongho. Making out. Hickies. Squirting. Face fucking. anal.

Note: Thank you to my corrupt anonnie for the idea. Hehe, i could have definitely made it messier, but i think this was still good. I hope you like it, my darling ♡♡

Also, this is not beta read. Hehe ♡♡

Network: @k-vanity @cromernet @atzhouse @wonderlandnet @illusionnet

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Tip Jar ♡

“No, I'd clearly win!” Wooyoung had long thrown his controller onto the couch, facing his attention to his friend. “I do a way better job than you.”

“That’s impossible. I’m the one that can get her to squirt. So I’m definitely the one that's better.” San yelled, shoving Wooyoung half-heartedly while smiling smugly. Wooyoung started to ramble about all the positions he could put you in and what he and you do when San isn't around, spilling on all the tips and tricks he had found with your body. What the two bickering idiots didn't notice was Jongho leaning against the door frame, watching both of them fighting over you. He had to roll his eyes at his friends before clicking his tongue against his teeth, and stepping out into the lounge room.

“You know there is only one way we can see who would win this stupid argument.” Jongho’s voice caught the attention of both of the men squabbling on the carpeted floor. 

“We?” Wooyoung said with a raised brow.

“Yeah, we,” Jongho smirked before turning on his heels to head down the hall. Wooyoung and San quickly followed closely, watching intensely as their friend opened the door to your bedroom. You were laying on your bed on your stomach, your ass in their line of sight and back facing them while you had headphones on, blaring music through your ears. You were completely entranced with whatever you were doing on your phone to notice the three men watching you. “So, Rules…” Jongho turns to the others with a serious expression. “The first person to make her squirt gets a point. The first person to get her to beg gets a point. The first person she chooses to fuck her gets a point…”

“And..” San asked curiously.

“She will choose who wins. No if, buts, or whines.” Jongho points to Wooyoung, “That means don’t bitch if she doesn’t choose you.” Woyoung put his hands up in defence with a quick alright, while San nodded his head agreeing to everything Jongho said. And thus the game began. 

You couldn't even guess what you were in store for when you felt someone's hand grabbing your ankle. Or what to do when they tugged you towards the edge of the bed. Your phone is long forgotten as you take your headphones off, slightly sitting on your elbow so you can turn to see who had disturbed you. "Hey there, Darling."

You gulped, seeing San holding your ankles firmly to the bed with a devious smirk painting his feline features. You scanned over to see Jongho and Wooyoung watching close by. Woo looked like he was about to combust right then and there, but Jongho. He looked intrigued, almost spilling over with a growing ego as if he had just won a prize. "Hi..." You drew the word out.

"We wanna play a game. You up for it?" You knew by Wooyoung's remark, that this was no ordinary game, but what enticed you more was the fact that Jongho was here. Normal if Wooyoung and San wanted to fuck you, they'd simply come whining for it. But Jongho...what was he doing here? He hates sharing. You nod nonetheless, watching the stars twinkle in Sans's eyes as his hands fly for your shorts, tugging them off your body in one swoop.

You couldn't even speak up as San quickly undressed you until you were only in your bra and panties while lying on your back, facing the three of them. They all shared the same expression, one of determination, and lust with a hint of competitiveness. They were here to win something, and you began to assume it was you.

"Come on, Dollface. Take it all off." Wooyoung pleaded, palming his erection through his tightening jeans. You couldn't help but smirk as you didn't break eye contact with him, slipping out of your panties and undoing your bra. You threw both garments out of sight before spreading your legs for all of them to see your glistening pussy. They all groaned at the sight. "Fuck you're perfect."

"Perfect in every way." San continued, grabbing your ankles, stepping in front of you. He brought them up into the air, holding them spread out for a moment before putting them on his shoulders. "I'm gonna have fun making you fall apart on my cock."

"Do your worst." You giggle, placing a hand on your abdomen slowly reaching down for your clit. If these three were going to play games, you were gonna play one of your own. You could hear a grunt from both men beside San, while San sighed, easing his cock out of its confinements. He was already leaking. All this talk had really riled him up. He strokes his dick while watching your pussy clench around nothing, basking in the sight. "Come on, Sannie, I'm waiting.."

San brought his fingers to your already dripping cunt, slipping two inside you with ease. He bent down, his free hand braced on the mattress beside your head while he folded you in half, thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a quickened speed. Your head fell back at the slight relief, clamping around his digits, taking in the pleasure San gifted you.

"Fuck she looks so pretty when being fucked." Wooyoung was always one to give out praise but this felt different, it felt intentional, like he wanted you to reply to him. You whined, feeling already close with the way San's fingers curled inside you, hitting the right spot, a sloshing noise becoming more and more prominent in the whisper-filled room, “Are you close, darling?”

You let out a deep sigh, your eyes fluttering closed. Your hands fell to the bed, fingers tangling in the sheets. Your hips buckled at San’s ruthless thrusts and for a moment you didn't notice the other two moving, nor did you realise Wooyoung getting on the bed on your right side, coming to pinch your perky nipple and cupping your tits. “I wanna see you cum all over Sannie's fingers."

Your watery eyes made contact with Wooyoung watching as he spat on your breasts, lubing them up so he could roll your buds under the pads of his thumbs. You feel yourself snap as you stare deep at him, begging San to keep going. San's smirk got bigger as his eyes quickly met both other men. Both men could see accomplishment in his gaze, having won one of the points for himself, getting you to beg.

Your cunt tightened as your high reached its peak, but you heard a click on Jongho's tongue before he took a seat on the free side of the bed with a deep chuckle, "She didn't squirt, pitty."

"That was just a warm-up." San barked at the younger while pulling his fingers out of your pussy, watching the string of cum keep him connected to you. He was slightly disappointed he didn't get another point but still satisfied with your little begs. You laid there for a moment, panting, as all the boys started to bicker amongst themselves before sitting up on your elbow.

"Is someone gonna fuck me now or are you all gonna argue?" You huffed, bending your knees up while planting your feet on the mattresses.

"We're sorry, darling." San, who was still kneeling in front of you, rubbed small circles on your plump thigh, soothing some of the ache in them, "Who do you want first?" San knew it was probably against the rules to ask you, and given Jongho's raised eyebrow, he was treading on thin ice.

"Hmmm." You pretended to think for a moment, but you had already known who you wanted first the moment all three of them walked in. So you sat up, twisting your body before shuffling towards him. "Jjongie...."

Jongho couldn't help but chuckle, gently caressing your face as he watched you nuzzle into his palm, "What is it, honey..." he cooed, helping you into his lap, both other men watching with flames in their eyes.

"I need you please, please..." You begged, grinding against his clothed cock. Point for Jongho.

"Anything for you, honey.” He tipped you backwards until you were lying on your back once again. He grabs your thighs and pushes them up near your chest. You wrap a hand around the back of your thighs, keeping yourself the way he wants you. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he leaves kisses on your cheeks. His hand found the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down just below his balls so his already hard cock could spring out. You lick your lips as you watch him come forward, completely mounting you. Jongho, sighed, fluttering his eyes closed for a moment at the feeling of your cunt fitting snugly around him, like you were made for him, “Fuck honey, you’re so tight.”

“Jjong…nagh.” You threw your head back, gripping the sheets as your body moved with Jongho’s shallow thrusts. You almost forgot about the other two men in the room, that was until you heard a high-pitched whine from Wooyoung.

“This is unfair, I wanted Doll to choose me.” Wooyoung squirmed beside you making Jongho snap his hips sharply with a deep grunt;

“What did I say about whining?” Jongho’s brow was coated in sweat already with every clench of your cunt was driving the man quicker to his climax than he’d like to admit. You had that effect on them. A way with words, touch, anything. You made all of them crazy.

“Yeah, yeah I remember…” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, pouting. But before he could continue his protest, an idea popped into his head, bringing his gaze to San. His smile grew, making San shake his head with a raised brow. He knew what his friend was thinking but it was the fact of if Jongho was willing to share. “You wouldn’t mind if I slide in over here, hmm?”

You watched with a smirk, watching Woo take his cock out right next to your face. Jongho growled, grabbing your chin before drilling deeper inside your pussy, making you scream out his name, “That’s right baby. Say my name. I’m the one inside you. I’m the one making you feel like this.” His free hand moved from your thigh to your clit, rubbing in small quick circles, “Come on honey, I wanna feel you come around my cock. Make a mess for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir.” You nodded your head over and over as you felt yourself tip over the edge. The two other men just stared in awe at the way Jongho played with your body. How he presses completely different buttons to them. 

“Fuck, that's hot.” San groaned, stroking his cock as he watched as Jongho’s hips stutter before coming to a complete stop, emptying his cum deep inside you. “You actually get her to call you sir. I thought you were joking.”

“You have no idea what I can get this sweet girl to do.” Jongho leaned down to seal his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as he slipped out of your soaked cunt. 

“I could think of a few things.” Wooyoung’s snarky remark gifted an eye roll from you as he sat up on your elbows. Jongho broke the kiss, taking a step back to see his cum leak out of your hole. But you didn’t let him gaze long enough as you turned around to steal a seat on Wooyoung’s lap. “Oh…Hi there Doll.”

“Hi, pretty boy.” Your lips found his own while you reached behind your body to guide his cock into your messy cunt. You sink onto him with ease and you can’t help but grin as you hear a whimper leave him. You push him backwards onto the bed with a hand on his chest and with the new angle, you rid him. His hips stutter upwards, his hands holding firmly on your waist. With this angel, San came up before you, straddling Wooyoung’s shaky legs. San’s lips found your neck sucking hard marks as he ruts his cock against your ass. Your head leant back against the man's shoulder, letting him have more access to your flesh. You feel your hips shake, the burn in your thighs causing you to tear up. Wooyoung seemed to notice, taking ahold of your hips to help you grind on him. “I...I’m close.”

“You need Woo to take over, darling?” San whispered in your ear making you nod your head. San immediately picked you up, manhandling you off the bed until you were lying over the edge and your legs were dangling over the edge. Wooyoung followed closely before slipping back inside you once you were comfortable. San took this moment to remove the rest of his clothes before kneeling in front of you, tapping the tip of his cock against your cheek, “Open up, baby.”

You obeyed willingly, feeling him slowly thrust into your throat. You whimper around him, gagging lightly with every small snap of his hips. Wooyoung crossed over his arms so he could jackhammer into you, watching Jongho’s and your cum smear up your ass crack and onto his pelvis, soaking you both completely. “Fuck, baby. You're soaking me…”

“She’s perfect isn’t she,” San replied to Wooyoung, placing his hand on the base of his back to steady his thrusts into your throat all while you just lay there, taking everything they gave you. “Fuck I’m close darling. I’m gonna cum all over this pretty face.”

Your body shook, as you felt yourself close to the edge as well. It wasn’t until Wooyoung’s finger found your clit, pinching the little bundle of nerves. You scream around San’s cock, feeling yourself clench around Wooyoung, squirting all over him. Your juices leaked everywhere like it was never-ending, landing on the floor, ruining the sheets and painting Wooyoung’s abdomen. “Point for me.”

Wooyoung grinned, feeling accomplished as he continued to fuck you. It wasn’t longer until Wooyoung’s hips faltered before he came, emptying his load all over your back. San was next to finish, stroking his cock hard with a battered pant before coming all over your face, some of his seed getting in your hair, also dripping down your chin onto the sheets below you. You stared up at San with a cheeky grin, running your hand along some of his seed on your cheeks, dragging some of it into your mouth before swallowing. San groaned as he watched with a groan, “Dirty girl.”

You opened your mouth, flatting your tongue to show him you had swallowed it all but before you could say anything to him, you felt a new pair of hands grab your middle, flipping you onto your back. It was Jongho, he ran his fingers along your abused cunt, collecting some of your slick, “Such a messy baby.”

You shivered feeling him dip a finger into your ass. He thrusts it slowly before whistling over San to enter your pussy while Jongho adds another finger into your tight hole. Wooyoung also came over but he simply just kneeled over your sweaty body while jerking off. It felt like your body was on fire, every sense on high alert. From San’s harsh snaps to Jongho’s now three fingers deep inside you. You were so close, your throat horse, no longer being able to scream as you came again. How many times, you’ve lost count. 

“Fuck, baby. Look at you.” San played with your clit as you squirted, wetting his pelvis, soaking the sheets even more than they already are. Wooyoung came again, his cum dripping all over your tummy. Your hand came up to run a finger along your skin, playing with the seed with a sly grin. You were completely covered in their cum head to toe and you loved it. Jongho finally stood up from his crouched position letting San pick you up within the next breath, never leaving your messy cunt for a second. Jongho’s chest pressed firmly against your sticky back, letting you feel his cock’s tip run along your ass cheeks. 

“Take a deep breath, honey.” You listened to Jongho as you felt him enter your ass in one quick motion. 

“Fuck!!” You cried, your nails digging into San’s shoulders threatening to draw blood. Your brain was entirely fired, your mouth drooling as you whimpered out random high-pitched noises. Your body was going to be sore the next day and you couldn’t care less. And when you felt Wooyoung start to play with your abused and overly sensitive clit you knew you were done for. “Fuck I’m coming. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

You sounded like a broken record but as you felt both San and Jongho cum deep inside you, your mind completely went black. Your limbs went lack and your body fell forward onto San with a heavy ‘oof’. All three men stood still for a moment, letting their own highs die down. But it was Wooyoung that caught the attention of everything when he gasped. “Did she just pass out?”

San moved your hair out of your face, seeing you were fast asleep. “Oh shit…We just fucked her until she passed out.”

Jongho slipped out of you, helping San place you on the bed for a moment. They all stood there a little unsure what to do, it was then that Jongho let out a sigh, “So much for seeing who would win the bet…..”

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[imsilay]

LETHAL

NSFW! mdni, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging, stalker!König, obsessive König (idk lmk if i forget anything)

word count: 1.5k

summary: he was picky and he picked you.

next chapter here

art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt

You were doing the dishes as he was watching you from the apartment building next door which had a wonderful view of your bedroom and kitchen. He had seen enough to know many things about you and your life. You left your house at 10 AM every day and returned at 8 PM. You were a homebody, never wanting to leave your home aside from work and you only had your cat for company. You lived alone in a nice house and didn't often have friends over. He couldn't see any guys when your friends came by, meaning you were single, perfect.

He could even hear the music you were playing while doing the dishes. Your delicious-looking lips moved in time with the song, mumbling the lyrics. He couldn't tear his eyes off your lips. Focusing on them and imagining how they would taste. Perhaps blackberry? He had seen the lip balm you bought a few days before when you complained about how dry your lips were in the winter. Would you let him taste it and find out? Would you even look at him after discovering what he did?

His thoughts were cut off when you finished cleaning the dishes and embraced your cat, it was bed time. His gaze was glued on your back as you left the kitchen and disappeared into your living room, and then reappeared in your bedroom. He knew every part of your house. His heart raced when you put the cat down on your bed and then began removing your shirt revealing the curves of your body and the black bra he was stupidly fond of. He moved closer to the window without realizing it. Crossing his arms to stop the aching feeling to touch your smooth skin, his fingers dug into his arms when you finally tossed the shirt somewhere in your room, probably onto the chair, and then threw yourself onto your mattress.

Yawning and getting comfortable with your cat, it purred and get its place next to you. He wishes it was him… Curling next to you falling asleep with the warmth of your body. But it was impossible, cause he was just your sweet neighbor that you only had small chats, cause he was fucking massive and probably would take the majority of the space of your bed. You eventually fell asleep, he checked his watch. Just in time.

Well maybe it wasn’t that impossible…

He continued his observation for a few more minutes but he was unable to contain himself anymore. He had to be with you. He had to feel you, your body, your hair, the curve of your waist and hips. He wanted to touch your lips, but he was afraid that if he kissed you he would just get lost into them and fuck you there.

He shook his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts before they got dirtier. He grabbed the keys of his and your house and made his way to your apartment. After entering your home and closing the door behind himself, he took his sweet time to breathe in the smell. It was full of you, it made his head spin and heart race. This was his first time coming into your house when you’re there. You were so introverted and had barely any friends. You were living happily in your small world, that was until he came.

The man was over two meters and had on a strange looking mask. He immediately drew your attention because he just looked like some game characters you played. At first he was distant, cold. His icy-blue eyes were intimidating but somehow inviting. You were the first to start the conversation with him, asking about his work. You two became closer with time but it was never too friendly. He was just some neighbor you knew. But he wanted more. Much more.

So after many months of observation and gaining a lot of information about you, he managed to copy your keys. He would come into your house and feed your cat with treats making his presence known and loved. Unfortunately just with your cat. But now his dreams were coming true. He had given you some homemade cookies. And poor you accepted them without any suspicion and now you were on your bed, in a deep sleep, as he walked into your room. Your cat immediately noticed him.

But he was too mesmerized by your sleeping form on the bed that he was frozen in his place. The cat meowed loudly, drawing his attention to it, he gave it some treats he brought with him. Everything was planned. When the cat was out of the room and the door of your bedroom was locked, he walked to your bed. He was finally here. Right next to you as you slept beautifully. He swallowed thickly and sat on the bed. The bed made a squeaking noise with his weight.

You looked even more pretty this close. His gaze lingered on your face; his breath hitched when his gaze stopped on your lips. He reached out a hand and brushed the strands of hair off your face. He was so nervous that his hands were shaking when he touched your hair. It was as soft as he imagined it would be. He tucked your hair behind your ear; his fingers lingered on your jaw before stopping on your chin and tilting your head up just a little, just so he could see your face better. Your lips parted and a soft sigh escaped from your lips when he did; his heart skipped a beat.

You continued to sleep, without noticing the man's touch on your face, thanks to the cookies. His thumb caressed your lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and bit his lower lip. He was holding the urge to give into his feelings, to give in to his desires and take you just then, in that moment. But he had to be patient. He wanted your first time together to be special, like you deserved. But it was turning him on so much to see you in that vulnerable state. He just wanted to tore of your bra and see what’s underneath. Then move to your sleeping shorts and take them off along with your panties so he could eat you out until you cum or wake up. He wondered what your expression would look like.

But still… it was just his fantasies. It caused him pain physically. “Scheiße, Maus.” he mumbled with a sigh. He took of his mask with his still trembling hands and put it on your nightstand, then took of his boots placing them on the floor next to your bed. He was ready to curl up with you. He climbed next to you, close. So close that you felt his breath on your face. His heart was beating like crazy now. His hands found your waist. “Gott.” he hissed when he felt how soft your skin was. His arms snaked around your waist and drew you close until your body fit perfectly with his, lips only centimeters apart. “Mine.” he growled. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack because the proximity of your body. Your body was almost disappeared inside his arms. It only made him want to protect and posses you.

His fingers caressed your skin as he watched your face closely. To memorize everything about you. He even tried to count your eyelashes. It was stupid but he was just too lost in your beauty. One of his hands found yours and put it on his face. Like you was caressing his cheek. It was pathetic but he was too desperate for your affection. He left your hand on his cheek and his hand found your back. His fingers tracing up and down on your spine then eventually stopped on the clasp of your bra. “Nein, not now.” he scolded himself with his eyes frowned. His gaze found your lips again and softened. He wanted- no he craved to kiss you. Your lips looked delicious.

He swallowed and closed his eyes promising himself that he would stop after a taste. When he opened his eyes, he was determined to contain himself; to show restraint. So, his hand was on your chin again, tilting your head up to meet his lips. When his lips brushed against yours, he took in a sharp breath; like someone just hit him with a bat, kissing you felt like it. His hand on your waist pulled you closer, as close as he could. His kiss started slowly, with all of his love and affection; with all of his feelings. But the craving... the craving only grew. His whole body shook as he stole your breath. The determination of containing himself was no where to be found with his morals. He moaned into your mouth and his cock throbbed. His hands traveled down and big palms covered your hips. The kiss was sloppy and hungrier now. He was too lost into heaven. You were his heaven.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc<3

Stalker König has a special place in my heart. this is definitely my favorite work. also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

i’m so sleepless so i’m just gonna post this and post the rest tomorrow.

[jesswritesthat]

Atsumu Miya: Second Choice

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~2.2k, fluff

• You were never first choice, so it comes as a surprise when he notices your presence before anyone else.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

It was always the same, you'd watched as people flocked to beauty, straight past you every time. In reality when you became friends with Sachiko it was because she had a great personality, you couldn't have possibly predicted she'd become the most beautiful and popular girl in school by the time you'd reached Inarizaki High.

Regardless of her sparkling status, she remained your best friend and you'd usually be found together throughout the school premises along with anyone else who joined you at the start of first year.

When the Volleyball team grew more intoxicating, it was Sachiko who'd excitedly dragged you along to one of their home training matches. It's where you first laid eyes upon the famous Miya twins, a vicious team of spiker and setter with a serve worthy of award among them. Already they had personal fans and the cheer squad screaming their praises, you're surprised they didn't get mauled in the hallways.

Now you'd seen them, you recognised them in school and they apparently had space to breathe aside from the odd confession here and there. You'd regularly seen that with Sachiko though, she'd often be either pulled to the side or you'd bear witness to some lovestruck soul gushing their heart out for her.

It was humbling in a way, you were the one who goes unnoticed but notices everything. Including if feelings were reciprocated, and you're certain you deducted gossip before it even became that, you'd been getting accurate in predicting things lately. However, you never predicted one of them to notice you.

Especially him.

"Hey, ya in one of my classes right?" In honesty you didn't even realise it was you this voice was addressing since Sachiko lingered by your side, not until a careful tap drew your attention to the blonde twin rather than your locker.

"Huh? Oh I think so, it hasn't been long enough to learn everyone's name yet. You're the volleyball player though."

"Ah, have ya seen me play? Like it?" His head tilted in curiosity, proud smirk upon his lips.

"You were really good, you have great form when you serve." With that you nodded to him, slipping on your shoes and walking off with your best friend quickly following in tow.

"Woah— wait up!" You didn't even look back in the swarm of leaving students. "I didn't get yer name..."

———

It wasn't until a week or so later did he 'confidently' interact with you again, this time his call far more effective in hailing your attention.

"(L/n) (Y/n)!"

Immediately you spun to the origin, finding none other than Miya Atsumu dodging a group of fangirls rather effortlessly on his way to you.

"You know my name."

"Yeah 'course. You know who I am so it's only fair." It was surefire charisma, one you'd soon extinguish.

"Miya Osamu isn't it?"

"Ye—Hey?! YA GOTTA BE KIDDIN'!"

"'Tsumu shut ya mouth!" The namesake twin glared harshly at his counterpart, quickly flashing a calmer look when you'd addressed him.

"Ah, hey Miya-san. I apologise, that was my fault for winding your brother up."

"Dumbass has control of his own mouth." Osamu politely assured, meanwhile Atsumu reclaimed your peripheral with a childish pout.

"So ya knew ma name all along and decided to be freakin' mean about it? On our second meetin' too."

"I couldn't resist, you're so cute when you're mad."

"I'm— oh ya think I'm cute?" Atsumu stammered slightly, your smirk only widening upon noting the crimson tips of his ears. Honesty leaving your lips soon after.

"I think you're both handsome, as does a majority of the school body. See you Miya-san and Miy—"

"Call me Atsumu!"

"See you in class, Atsumu." You actually looked back this time, an unfamiliar and unexpected feeling flourishing within you.

———

Part of you wandered if it’d be different this time, maybe you’d found someone who was there for you and not Sachiko. Just this once. You’d spoken more in class, studied together, traded snacks, and genuinely became friends over the course of two months.

Ironically it was the same blonde who tugged you from your reverie at the your locker where you’d first spoken.

"Yer friends with Sachiko aren't ya?"

This was it, the moment you realised he was just like all others and for the first time in a long while, you were truly disappointed.

"Yes I am, and she is amazing."

"I'm aware, could ya introduce me?" He’d spoked so casually, completely unawares of the charade you donned.

"What? Too scared to introduce yourself?" Atsumu was taken aback by your mockery, smirk growing as you persisted. "She doesn't bite y'know, that's my job."

This was the second time you'd left him speechless, slamming your locker door and disappearing into the halls with a wave.

From then on you'd see them happily talking to one another, it was hard seeing them together, amusing considering you'd only known the blonde not even half the year, yet you'd liked him more than you considered possible.

The first time you'd walked into the classroom finding the pair conversing at her desk, it was like Atsumu was desperately trying to convince her of something. It was only for a brief moment but when the setter turned to see you with a suddenly concerned look, you realised you hadn't worn a facade. You were meant to smile, instead you must've looked saddened - briskly you offered a weak smirk, and span to leave the room with additional flare as to minimise suspicion.

You’d only made it three steps down the hallway when a grasp on your wrist limited your escape.

"Hey you okay?"

"Yes? Why wouldn't I be?" Came your upbeat response, even if he portrayed a careful worrisome look on his handsome features.

"Ya... ya looked upset."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"I'm observant y'know, gotta be fer volleyball so yeah, I noticed your little slip." He was more forward this time, gesturing to you with a tilt of his head - even if he was head over heels for Sacchan, at least he still genuinely cared about you.

"It's nothing, just realised I've got a test today and that's depressing enough." You thought it was acceptably convincing, though the calculating gaze he'd locked onto yours made you reconsider.

“(Y/n) I know I can be annoyin’ but I’ll do anything I can to help y—“

“I’m fine.” You instantly corrected, reaffirmation following. “I’m fine, Atsumu.”

A gentle pat on his chest told him not to worry, and the nod you gave said you wanted to be alone. So, he let you walk away, your wrist slipping from his grip.

———

Even weirder than the smitten pair hanging out was that your conversations with Sachiko seemed to revolve around him too. Which by your deductions, meant he’d certainly made more of an impression on her than anyone else recently. Maybe Atsumu really had a shot with her…

"Atsumu is so hot isn't he?"

"I guess he keeps in shape, he has to if he wants to improve his skills."

"Uh yes... his hair suits him though, brings out the colour of his eyes~" She gleamed, searching for your reaction and once more her face dramatically dropped at the deadpan reply.

"Makes him easier to differentiate from Osamu."

"True, but I'm asking if you find him attractive?!" Her impatience had gotten the better of her, voice raised slightly out of desperation.

"Isn't that a question you should ask yourself? I haven't heard you go on about a boy this much since middle school." You quipped, raising a quizzical brow at her.

"It's not like th—"

"Oh hey! Sachiko, (Y/n), you wanna come to practice today?" Atsumus’ hollering tone interrupted the conversation, the blonde strolling into your classroom like he belonged there.

"Yes, we'd love to." Sachiko of course was ecstatic to agree, why would she say no since he’s ’so attractive’. Yourself on the other hand had replicated the Thor meme perfectly…

"Would we though?"

"Yeah ya would! C'mon~" You hadn't the chance to protest further when Atsumus' hands clamped your shoulders steering you in the direction of the gymnasium with a giggling Sachiko skipping behind.

———

When Atsumu had asked you to meet him after school before practice started toward the end of the year, you expected something food related or about homework answers, not whatever this was.

Here he stood, flowers in hand and apparently a homemade bento box offered to you with a growing blush painting his handsome features and an aura of flustering about him which was unusual in itself.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm— isn't it obvious?!"

"I have literally no idea what's going through your thick skull, Sachiko will like the flowers though." You answered honestly, crossing your arms.

"They're not for her!"

"Oh... Suna...?"

Atsumus brows furrowed at your wit, shaking his head with a huff.

"Alright ya got me, they're for Sachiko. Yer gonna deliver them since yer her best friend. Thanks and make sure ya eat some of the bento 'cuz there's stuff yer will like in it. Later!" He basically threw the flowers at you and pushed the bento box into your chest prior to storming toward the exit.

You stood dumbfounded, flicking between the two items when he placed his forehead against the door with a defeated sigh and spun on his heel.

“Go! Go on, the team are here and I don’t want ya getting hit with a face full of leather and petals.” He’d stubbornly commented, ushering you out of the gym.

Still, you shouldered your sadness, wearing false confidence like your favourite outfit as you went to find your friend (completely oblivious to the embarrassed mess whining to his teammates inside).

Sachiko squealed when she saw you, leaving her work unattended and rushing to your side admiring your haul.

"It finally happened! Oh my goodness!"

"Yeah yeah, blondie came through congratulations." You boredly spoke, placing the items down whilst she basically vibrated with pure joy.

"Congratulations indeed! Are you happy?"

"Eh. He did say we should share the lunch."

"That's... weird?" Sachikos’ prior energy disappeared as she looked to you in confusion.

"I know, that's what I thought. Apparently there's things I like in it."

"Well obviously. Atsumu made it for you."

"No, he made it for you."

A moment of silence passed, yourself and Sachiko locked in a puzzled stare off.

"Nah, let's be honest, Osamu probably made it~" You dismissively waved your hand once placing the items on her desk, although it was only you who found humour in the situation.

"No (Y/n) I'm serious! Atsumu has been asking me about you and your preferences for months and I've been super excited about it. He even wanted me to find out if you liked him or not —of course IF I found out, I would've kept it to myself— but he really likes you."

"I thought he was into you, I mean everyone is into you." You adamantly justified, as if it explained everything but Sachiko was just as passionate.

"Not him, why do you think he keeps asking you to practices or bugging you every 5 minutes?"

"To get close to you? I don't know."

"No! To get close to you!"

Widened eyes and a look of pure shock told Sachiko her words had finally resonated with you, the truth burned brightly and she could only smile as you ran.

Abandoned were the flowers as you dashed through the halls and came to a skidding halt before the gymnasium - fingertips hesitantly pausing against the door upon hearing Atsumus' cursing whines.

"I didn't even get to say! They just ran off to Sachiko!"

“Ya literally said ‘Go’.” Osamus voice maybe?

“Yeah well, I don’t ever wanna walk away from (Y/n), but it feels like they’re always walking away from me…” Atsumu trailed off, more emotion than you thought lacing his words.

"Maybe ya shouldn't have lied?" That was definitely Arans’ blunt advisory tone.

"I had no choice! They were lookin' at me with their stupid pretty eyes and askin' if it was for Sacchan and I didn't wanna disappoint 'em."

"Yer an idiot." Osamu gladly highlighted, the perfect moment to walk in and make your presence known you decided.

"I know! But—"

"Atsumu?" At the sound of your call, the entity of the team turned in your direction, the setter being the first to respond.

"Huh?! (Y/n) what are you doing here?"

Osamu and the rest of Inarizaki seemed to understand the underlying tension and were quick to evacuate the area.

"I came to tell you that Sachiko liked the flowers." You awkwardly started, Atsumu running fingers through his hair with a quiet voice.

"Oh, right."

"As did I, and I think I'd like to get you something in return."

"Eh?"

"She told me what was going on." You filled in, hands behind your back fiddling with your fingers.

"She's lying! I do not like you at all, let alone find you attractive or anything!"

Much like you predicted, he'd jumped to conclusions and had inadvertently dropped himself in it and exposed the truth Sachiko had enclosed which earned your witty reply.

"Funny, I never mentioned anything about liking me. That’s good to know~"

"Wait— then what?" Atsumu defused, utterly confused and blushing.

"And it's a shame, I was about to confess my feelings for you but I see there's no need since you 'don't like me at all'." You shrugged haphazardly, a hint of sarcasm lacing your tone but it was your statement that revitalised his spark. Enough to abruptly skid in front of you with a commendable justification when you’d started to turn around.

"You still can, nothin' to lose and all that." A half smile was sent to you, hazel eyes meeting yours. “And please, don’t walk away from me this time.”

"I didn’t want— I mean I—“ A wistful sigh escaped you, confession imminent. “I really like you Atsumu, you're both an incredible player and a cool person so I’m glad I got to tell you that.”

“I like ya too (Y/n)! So much, and I feel more confident playing when ya come and watch. Yer smile really hypes me up y’know. If yer up for it, I’d love to spend more time with ya.”

"Yeah, I’d like that."

—

That evening, he’d offered to walk you home and there was still one thing you wanted to say after all that.

“Hey Atsumu?” A hum signified his attention. “Thank you for noticing me."

"Noticing ya?"

"Yeah, I just… I appreciate it."

"No I mean, noticing ya? I haven't noticed anyone else since I met ya."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

On the Edge of Innocence

Corrupted!Wanda Maximoff x innocent!fem!reader

Word count: 1K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon, power impalance, edge play, memory alteration, manipulation, gaslighting, Mommy kink, magic-induced immobilization, magic used like a drug

Authors notes: Sorry it's a little late everyone!

The atmosphere between you and Wanda had been easygoing from the start. After Natasha introduced you to her at the coffee shop, you felt an instant connection, unaware of the storm brewing beneath Wanda’s calm surface.

She found you refreshing—a break from the usual chaos that surrounded her. You had a certain innocence that drew her in, a softness that made her feel powerful in ways she couldn’t resist. It didn’t take long for Wanda to learn just how easy it was to make you blush, to see that flash of bashfulness in your gaze when she gave a playful tease or brushed her hand against yours.

But that innocence awakened something else in her. Darker desires stirred as she realized how little you understood the effect you had on her. And she had power. Her magic allowed her to erase the memories of those moments where she’d let that hunger slip, when she’d let her hands wander or leaned close enough to breathe in the sweetness of your innocence.

Each time, Wanda would reset you, erasing the moments when her magic had coaxed you to the edge, leaving only traces of warmth and longing you didn’t understand. You thought it was natural—the flutter of nerves whenever she looked at you too long, the way her fingers lingered when she brushed them along your arm. And, each time, she’d bring you right back to the start.

Only Wanda knew how many times she’d used her powers to draw you in, to unravel that innocence bit by bit, savoring every innocent smile and lingering gaze. And she’d keep it that way—your best friend, the only one you really trusted, the one who held every secret, every forgotten moment, in the palm of her hand.

It was a quiet evening, with only the sound of the espresso machine humming in the background. You were about to close up when Wanda walked in, her eyes glinting in a way that made your stomach twist—part nervousness, part thrill. She smiled as she stepped closer, her presence warm and intoxicating.

"Hey, thought I'd keep you company while you close up," she said smoothly, her voice low, a little too soft. You nodded, always grateful for her company, though the way she looked at you sometimes made you shy.

As you went about cleaning, you could feel her eyes on you, watching closely, like she was studying every move. You turned to face her, your cheeks pinking as you noticed how close she was.

"Wanda… do you, um, want some coffee?" you offered, trying to steady yourself.

Her lips curled into a knowing smile, and she shook her head. "Not coffee," she murmured, her hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "I was thinking something a bit sweeter." Her fingers trailed slowly down the side of your face, grazing your jaw, making your breath hitch.

There it was again—that feeling, warm and heady, making you forget the world outside of Wanda’s gaze. You wanted to pull away, the intensity overwhelming, yet you couldn’t move, held by the softness of her touch and the way her voice wove around you.

“You’re so cute when you’re shy,” she teased, her fingers now tracing lightly over your collarbone. “All that blushing… like you’ve never been touched before.”

Her words sent a flush through you, and you dropped your gaze, feeling both flattered and utterly vulnerable. You never understood why her words hit so deeply, why they made you feel both embarrassed and needy in a way you’d never experienced before.

Unseen to you, Wanda's eyes glowed faintly as she reached into your mind, blurring your memories, pushing a wave of calm over you to cloud any hesitations. The moment she was ready, she murmured, "You can trust me, right?"

You nodded, unable to resist the soft spell of her voice. "Of course, Wanda."

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your skin as her fingers grazed along your waist, her magic keeping you still. Each touch was electric, sending a shiver through you, but her hold kept your thoughts fuzzy, soft. Her mouth was so close to yours, just barely hovering over your lips, leaving you gasping for air and yet unable to move.

“Just let go for me,” she whispered, and her magic pulsed in time with her words, melting away any remnants of resistance. She guided you, leaning you back against the counter as her hands settled firmly on your hips, her eyes dark with desire.

For a fleeting moment, you felt something shift, something that told you this was more than it seemed, that there was a different intent behind Wanda’s warmth. But before the thought could form fully, Wanda’s magic washed over you again, taking away your doubts and leaving only her touch, her scent, and her quiet commands.

A wave of her hand and you look down when you feel something hit your thigh. A red strap with her magic swirling around it. 

“W-Wands…I–” you start, but she cuts you off.

“Shhhh just be Mommy's good girl like always and take it.” She says and you don't have a chance to respond as your words turn into choked moans. She's pushed herself fully inside of you and started pistoning her hips. 

“Fuck Y/N you're always so tight for me. You always feel so fucking good.” Wanda growls by your ear as you cling to her moaning. 

You don't know what she's talking about when she says ‘always’. This is your first time. Maybe she's fantasized about this? Yeah that has to be it. 

You feel yourself building up fast, you've never experienced pleasure like this, but just as you're teetering on the edge she stops and pulls out. A whine escapes your lips as you try to pull her back to you. 

“Oh no moya dorogaya. You aren't allowed to cum just yet. Mommy is going to savor you like she always does. We aren't over until I say we are and when I'm finally finished you won't remember a thing.” Wanda whispers by your ear, sending a chill through you. 

Tomorrow, like she'd said, you’d remember none of this—the press of her body, the whispered promises, the way her hands had claimed you. You’d remember only the warmth you felt, the lingering shyness, and how, in Wanda’s presence, you always felt so safe, so completely hers.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Boy Toys || CarLando

Summary: You invite your boyfriend’s ex-teammate to bed and he is more than willing to be your toy for the night. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, mmf threesome, mxm anal WC: 2.7k

“He wants you, amor,” Carlos teased the shell of your ear. Your boyfriend stood behind you, his hands on your waist and his body flush against yours. “He can’t stop looking at you.”

You looked at Carlos’ ex-teammate and found his blue eyes already watching you from across the bar and heat coursed your veins at the way he held his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. The younger driver had grown more handsome over the years since Carlos left McLaren but he clearly still had it bad for you, and Carlos was enjoying every second of it as his hands trailed up your body before curving over your ribs. Lando’s eyes dropped to the possessive touch that cradled the underside of your breasts and drew his attention to your nipples that were beginning to peak against the thin satin dress you wore.

“Stop bruising the poor guy’s ego,” you chuckled as you pushed his hands back down to your hips. You turned and draped your arms around Carlos’ neck, smiling sweetly as you tipped your head back to meet his eyes. “Or I might just have to go and kiss it better.”

Carlos’ hands spread over your ass and pulled you against him, his growing semi digging into your abdomen. A smirk played on his full lips and dirty thoughts danced across his face that you had always found easy to read. “Hmm, would you really?”

You rose onto your tip toes and nipped at his bottom lip before trailing kisses along his jawline. “Absolutely, I would even let you watch.”

Your ass burned with a sharp smack and he inhaled your moan as he kissed you with a harsh crash of his lips. “Go on then, amor, put him out of his misery.”

You grinned at the permission and slipped out of his hold to cross the room. The duo had been friends long before you started your relationship with Carlos and there had always been an undercurrent of sexual tension when the three of you were in a room together. You hadn’t been able to resist asking Carlos about it one night when your bodies were entangled. He admitted he felt it too but assured you nothing had happened, much to your disappointment. Things started to change after that night and Carlos grew bolder around Lando, playing on his desire and yours.

“You’re looking lonely,” you greeted Lando, draping your arms around his neck in an overly friendly hug. “Dance with me.”

He looked at Carlos, catching the smirk and the nod the Spaniard gave before turning to another friend who had called his name. Letting you drag him to the middle of the crowd where the room felt claustrophobic, Lando easily slipped into the space you made, his arms curving around your waist as the beat of the song echoed in his chest.

You tipped your head back on his shoulder as you swayed your hips to the music, enjoying the feel of his breath on your neck as he grew the courage to brush his lips over your racing pulse. The sweet perfume on your neck seemed more intoxicating than the drinks he had and he brushed his nose along your neck as he inhaled more.

“Make me sweat, make me hotter, make me lose my breath, make me water,” you sang along suggestively to the song and grinned when he groaned quietly.

“I wish…”

You turned in his arms and bit your lip as your hands roamed his body, slipping beneath the cotton shirt and over his abs. “What exactly would you wish for?”

“What?”

“If you had one wish, what would it be?”

Lando dared to dream as his hands slipped down your body to rest on your ass, growing bolder when you made no attempt to stop him. His lips brushed your skin as he dipped his head down to yours, resting cheek to cheek and whispering all the filthy thoughts he had imagined with you. Each one sent heat flaming across your body and your deep breath swelled in your chest, causing your breasts to brush against him. The satin teased your already stiff nipples and a soft moan tumbled out to caress his ear.

“We should get out of here,” you suggested as your heart began to beat between your legs, your core throbbing with need.

“We?” Lando asked, pulling back to catch sight of Carlos casually waiting by the bar still.

“He likes to watch…unless you want him to join.” You watched him swallow deeply, that damn kissable lip catching between his teeth again before he nodded.

“He likes to watch?”

You grazed your nails over his abs and felt them tense at the touch. “He likes to watch me play with my toys. Will you be my toy tonight?”

His hand was already grabbing yours with the need for a quick exit. “Fuck yes.”

You let him lead the way, nodding your head to Carlos and pointing to the corridor that led out of the bar. His swagger was confident as he placed his glass on the bar top and made his way out too.

“Where are we off to in such a hurry?” Carlos asked as he intercepted you by the door, casually leaning across the opening to block Lando. It left their bodies close and dark eyes drank in the younger driver whose hand still gripped yours. Lando froze, his eyes darting between you and Carlos with worry before a grin split your boyfriend’s face. “Relax, cabrón, I mean your hotel or mine.”

“Fuck, man, you gave me a heart attack.” Lando exhaled in relief before getting a little nervous, dropping your hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Uh, I don’t mind.”

“Ours,” you decided. “My toys are in the suitcase.”

Carlos’ eyes lit up at the thought. “You brought them through airport security, amor?”

You winked and ducked under his arm to start making an exit. “It was a private jet. I figured no one would check. Now are we going to have some fun or just me?”

The two drivers looked at each other and smirked.

The hotel door slammed shut and Carlos winced in apology but he was a little too eager to finish what started in the elevator. You could still feel Lando’s kiss on your lips and see Carlos’ eyes darkening with lust. You wanted more.

Lando crashed into you, his hands grabbing your waist to steady your steps as he guided you back to the bed. “You have no idea how long I have wanted this,” he confessed as those strong hands moved to caress your ass. 

A deep groan filled the air and it didn’t come from the man in front of you. “Oh, I know,” Carlos said as he pressed himself to your back and kissed your neck. “I’ve seen the way you watch her, cabròn.”

“The same way you look at each other,” you added, feeling them both stiffen against you. Neither pulled away, Lando’s hands still resting on your ass where Carlos’s front was pressed against them. “I think it’s hot as fuck.”

Lando was no longer looking at you but over your shoulder. “I thought you were just watching…”

Carlos’ heartbeat thrummed rapidly against your back. “If that’s what you want.”

The silent question hung in the air and you held your breath waiting for it to settle. There was no expectation from Carlos because he was absolutely happy to just watch, you could feel it from the large bulge digging into your ass, but you had seen the longing to join as well. 

Lando’s hand moved and you feared he was pulling away until Carlos moaned. Your thighs pressed tight in search of friction as you felt Lando stroking Carlos over his jeans and you felt them both shiver in anticipation.

“How attached are you to this dress?” Lando asked.

“I love it, but I’ll love it more the faster it comes off.” 

His smirk grew and he reached for the thigh split, his strength easily overcoming the sewed join as he ripped it all the way to the top. The material fell open, only kept up by the thin straps over your shoulders, until Carlos brushed them off.

“Dios mio.”

Carlos chuckled at Lando’s poor pronunciation and ran a hand down the curves of your body. “Is that all you have learned from me, carnal?”

“I can’t think of anything when you do that,” he admitted. “You’re so fucking lucky.”

You weren’t quite sure who he was saying it to and you shared a smile with Carlos as you saw the same thought pass across his eyes. “I’m feeling pretty lucky right now,” you teased as you took Carlos’ hand and guided it to the juncture of your thighs. “I have two very handsome men with me, except they are completely overdressed.”

You stepped away from them and climbed onto the bed, taking a seat at the headboard. “You can’t join me until you are naked.”

Lando nearly fell over as his legs tangled in his jeans but he kicked them aside and tore his shirt over his head. Carlos was more content to remove his shirt and unbuckle his belt before taking a seat on the couch in the room. He could see how eager his friend was and was willing to let him have some unbridled fun before he joined in. 

“Go ahead, carnal,” he encouraged when he saw Lando stop and look back.

“Told you he likes to watch,” you said as you rose to your knees and met him in the middle of the bed. You combed your fingers through his hair and looked into his pretty puppy eyes, he was waiting for your guidance. You decided you quite liked looking into his eyes and pushed his chest, forcing him onto his back. “You still wanna be my toy tonight?”

“Yes, fuck yes.” He cradled your ass as you climbed up his body, straddling his chest as you looked down at him. “Use me, baby, I’ll do anything you want.”

You smirked at Carlos as you shifted and felt Lando’s tongue flick out and swipe your slit as you settled over his face. Lando’s moan quickly followed the taste before he gripped your hips and tugged you down on his lips. Like a starving man, he devoured your pussy, licking and sucking you into a frenzy until your moans grew louder, urging him on further.

“Spank her, carnal,” Carlos urged, his voice tense as he gripped his cock tightly and leaned closer in the chair. “Make her come screaming your name.”

You rocked your hips over his face as he fucked you with his tongue and jolted with the sudden flame that kissed your ass. “Harder,” you breathed as your eyes fluttered shut and your thighs clenched around his head. Lando’s hand scorched your cheek again and your head fell back as the heat spread to your cunt, spilling over his lips in waves as you cried out his name.

Then, you were airborne. Lando’s muscles tensed as he sat up with you still riding out your orgasm on his face. He flopped you onto the pillows and chuckled at the fucked out look in your eyes but he wasn’t finished with you as he buried his face back between your legs and added two thick fingers to your cunt. Your back arched as your pussy clamped around the digits, tight from the orgasm that still sent pulses throughout your body.

“Dios mio,” Carlos groaned as he rose from the bed and walked around to the drawer on your side. Your eyes could barely see him as they rolled back into your head but you heard the click of the cap from the bottle of lube. “Keep going, hermoso.”

You hadn’t noticed Lando had stopped, you were too busy watching Carlos kneel onto the bed behind Lando. The younger driver's legs were spread where he lay on his stomach between yours and his toes curled at the touch of the cold gel on his ass.

“I’ll warm it up,” Carlos promised as he gently massaged the lube around Lando’s hole, drawing a low moan from him.

You were glad the pillows held you up because your body was not functioning right as you watched Lando’s eyes close and his teeth bite his bottom lip at the finger Carlos worked inside him. Lando’s breath tickled your thighs as he moaned deeply as you combed your fingers into his curls.

“You like that, baby?” you asked knowingly. “You want Carlos to fuck you?”

“Yes…please,” he whimpered with need, rocking his hips to take it deeper. “I want him.”

Carlos added a second finger and you gasped as Lando buried his teeth in your thigh and pumped his fingers into your cunt at the same pace.

“I want you too,” Lando moaned, peering up from between your legs with dark eyes.

You looked over his shoulder to see Carlos squeezing a generous layer of gel down his thick length, lazily stroking it to spread it evenly. He was ready, and you were more than ready.

“Come on then, handsome, fuck me like you could only imagine. Take me how you want,” you dared, remembering his wish that he whispered in your ear.

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” Lando groaned as he knelt on the bed and flipped you over, pulling you hips up so you were on all fours. “And I’ll die happy.” He snapped his hips forward and buried himself in your pussy, the warm wet walls clenching around him until he bottomed out and you both moaned at how good it felt.

“Ready, hermoso?” Carlos asked as he positioned himself behind Lando, teasing his tip around his hole before gently pushing against the resistance.

Lando didn’t answer out loud. He pulled out of you, pushing himself back onto Carlos’ cock and his breath froze in his lungs as the fullness grew inch by inch. “Fuck…” he moaned breathlessly, stopping for a moment to adjust before he dragged his hips forward again and filled you.

“I’m not sure who is the toy now,” Carlos teased as Lando set himself a steady pace of fucking you and then fucking himself agaisnt Carlos with each thrust and retreat. You didn’t care if he was using you at the point, you were so far gone in your pleasure you weren’t sure you were ever going to come down. “But fuck this feels good. Your ass is perfect, cariño.”

Lando moaned at the praise and sped up, the sounds of bodies slapping together filling the hotel room just as loud as your moans. The bruising grip on your hips tightened and you reached between your legs to press a finger to your puffy clit. The growing tightness in your body surged with the added stimulation and your legs began to tremble before a fresh wave of pleasure rolled over you.

Your orgasm sent your walls pulsing around his cock and he cried out as it triggered his own, the hot ropes of his cum filling your cunt until it dripped down your quaking thighs. Carlos bit his full lip as Lando’s body clamped down around his cock and it was all too much to resist his own release. Spanish tumbled from his lips as he buried himself as deep as he could, the weight of his body pinning you to the mattress beneath Lando. Lando cried out again as he felt Carlos’ cock pulse inside him, the warmth of his seed spilling into him.

Carlos pressed a soft kiss to Lando’s shoulder before gently pulling out and collapsing to the bed panting. The weight lifted and you could breathe fully again as your boyfriend wrapped an arm around Lando, his fingertips dancing on your skin.

“That was…” Carlos couldn’t seem to find the word to describe it, but you understood.

“Yeah, it was,” you giggled.

“Definitely,” Lando confirmed, still panting in recovery as he started to sit up.

“Stay,” Carlos whispered as he pulled him back down between your bodies. “You don’t have to go.”

“Are you sure?”

You rolled over to face him and mirrored Carlos, curling an arm around his waist too so he was cocooned. “Definitely.”

[unoriginal-and-dumb]

I imagine that they were childhood friends and played on the gross play rugs in ikea

Headcanons me and my friend came up with if you guys would like to read… huehuehue.. 👇👇

wiki says lampert was formed in a factory but it doesn’t say he was brought to LIFE in a factory. we hc that kasper “made” lampert as a child because he was lonely in ikea and had no friends. Also being one of those mf kids who draw on the walls and everything else. he drew a face on a lamp and the next day it turned into a boy yippee. they grew up together as best friends

kasper originally named lampert lamper, cause his name is kasper and he just replaced the kasp with lamp. when he came to life lampert was like no i think its lampert, not lamper and kasper was like ok 👍😁

they liked to play cars on the car play rug in ikea. kasper liked to race and crash them and lampert liked to send in the police and ambulance for cleanup. theyd play that over and over again it never got old

when they would play outside, they liked to set up things to look really pretty (like a nice stick and leaf house or dress up a really pretty doll) and then set it on fire with a magnifying glass (lampert liked the first part, kasper liked the second part)

kasper is korean-american and he had slightly lighter hair as a kid (LET ME HAVE THIS HAVE HAVE NOTHING)

both them ace and specifically lampert ace aro and specifically like romance and sex repulsed ace aro like if you stand too close to him he freaks out imagine if someone were to kiss him that would not fly. romance and sex r NASTY to him do not touch him

when lampert would hang out with kasper he would just stand very still in the corner of the room the whole time. not for any bad reason, he is just a lamp and does not see the need to do anything else than stand in the corner while he talks. when they hang out at ikea sometimes kasper starts talking to the wrong lamp because of this

lampert has a set list of facial expressions that show exactly how he feels. this is verging on not ok :) (his normal expression) this is not ok : ) (scawy) or this : ( this is silly :] these are all more fine :( :[ D: :D :o :/

lampert talks with a similar cadence to baymax snd also is politely blunt in the very autistic way. he states his opinion on something even if maybe its not a nice thing to say but he says it very politely (when eating food someone made for him that he really doesnt like: “i dont think i will be finishing this, it does not taste good. thank you! goodbye”)

They are so autism vs adhd to me.

Kasper was probably a sticky iPad leash kid before that was really a thing he’s a real trendsetter what a guy. He would run all over the place nonstop and everyone would just see some freak kid run mach 4 snatch a rug off the ground and then disappear like a gnome

[rvp32]

One Step at a Time

 Mina is an idol, a princess, and an enigma. She was a star that burned brightly in the sky but always just out of your reach. She was a beauty like none other, like an angel who had descended onto Earth. She was your best friend, with whom you shared everything—everything except the one secret you kept hidden because you were scared of ruining the friendship you cherished the most.

“Mina, we need to leave soon. The music video shoot will start in a bit,” you reminded her as you finished packing some necessities.

Mina emerged from her room, her radiant smile lighting up the space. “Yes! Just one sec, I need to grab my Switch from the console,” she said, heading to the TV.

You watched her with a mixture of admiration and longing. She was effortlessly graceful, her every movement a dance, every glance a spark of life. Being her manager had its challenges, but the hardest part was hiding your feelings. You admired her from afar, cherishing every moment you spent together, yet always mindful of the line you couldn’t cross.

As Mina gathered her things, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself for another day of keeping your emotions in check. You loved her dearly, more than she could ever know. The way her eyes sparkled with excitement, her laugh that could brighten the darkest day, her unwavering dedication to her craft—every aspect of her drew you in deeper.

Your mind drifted back to the countless nights you’d spent talking about dreams, fears, and everything in between. She was your confidante, your muse, your everything. But you were just her manager, her best friend, the one who was always there but never close enough.

“Got it! Let’s go,” Mina called out, breaking your reverie. She flashed you a smile, and your heart ached with the weight of your unspoken words.

As you made your way to the car, you stole glances at her, committing every detail to memory. The way her hair caught the light, the subtle scent of her perfume, the way her eyes twinkled with anticipation. Each detail was a precious fragment of the person you loved but could never claim.

“How are you feeling today? Are you ready for the shoot?” you asked, occasionally stealing glances at Mina through the rearview mirror.

“Yes! Thanks to you I got some much-needed rest. If you hadn’t taken my Switch, I might have ended up playing the entire night,” Mina said with a playful smile.

You chuckled. “Well, someone has to look out for you. You know how you get with those games.”

“I do, I do. And you’re always there to keep me in check,” she replied, her tone affectionate. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You felt a pang in your chest but kept your voice light. “Probably pull a few all-nighters and show up to shoots with panda eyes.”

Mina laughed, the sound like music to your ears. “True! And then you’d have to deal with a grumpy, sleep-deprived me. Not a pretty sight.”

“Hey, I’ve seen you at your worst, and you still look like an angel,” you said before you could stop yourself.

She blushed slightly, looking out the window. “You’re too kind. Really.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, filled with the hum of the car and the city sounds outside. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your unspoken feelings settle back into place.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today’s shoot?” she asked, changing the subject.

“It’s the final scenes for the music video. Lots of choreography, some close-ups. The director wants to capture that ‘ethereal princess’ vibe you do so well,” you explained.

Mina nodded, her excitement palpable. “I love those kinds of shoots. They’re always so magical.”

“And you make it look effortless,” you added, your admiration clear.

She glanced at you through the mirror, her eyes soft. “I have a good team behind me. Especially you.”

Your heart swelled with emotion. “Just doing my job.”

“More than just your job,” she said quietly. “You’re always there for me, in ways I can’t even begin to describe.”

You swallowed hard, the intensity of your feelings threatening to spill over. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” she echoed, her voice filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

*****

The shoot went smoothly, finishing no later than late afternoon, much faster than scheduled due to Mina’s professionalism.

“Good work, Mina! You were amazing out there!” you complimented her.

“Thank you! I’m so tired,” Mina said, walking toward you to grab the drink you were holding.

“So, what else is on the schedule for today?” she asked, sipping her drink.

“You have group practice coming up later this evening, and by 8 p.m., you should be done and free to go home,” you informed her.

“Yay! I can’t believe I’m getting out so early today!” Mina cheered.

******

Later, you drove her to the JYP Entertainment building. Mina was in high spirits, humming along to the radio as you navigated through the city traffic. Upon arriving, she waved at a few familiar faces and headed towards the practice rooms.

As you walked down the hallway, Mina spotted Hyunjin from Stray Kids. He was leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. When he saw Mina, his face lit up with a warm smile.

“Noona! Great to see you,” Hyunjin greeted, straightening up.

“Hey, Hyunjin! It’s been a while,” Mina replied, returning the smile.

The two of them chatted for a bit, catching up on their busy schedules. You watched them interact, noting the easy camaraderie between them. They laughed and teased each other, the conversation flowing naturally. At one point, Hyunjin playfully ruffled Mina’s hair, and she swatted his hand away, giggling.

“You’re always messing up my hair,” she complained, but her tone was light and affectionate.

“Just keeping you on your toes,” Hyunjin teased back.

The moment was sweet, a reminder of the strong bonds formed within the industry. You felt a pang of jealousy but quickly brushed it aside. Mina’s happiness was what mattered most.

“I’ve got to head to group practice now,” Mina said, glancing at the time. “Catch you later, Hyunjin!”

“Good luck!” Hyunjin called out as she turned to leave.

Mina walked over to you, her smile still lingering from the interaction. “Ready?” she asked.

“Ready,” you replied, leading her to the practice room.

Inside, the other members were already warming up. Mina joined them, her focus shifting seamlessly to the task at hand. You watched from the sidelines, admiring her dedication and skill. She moved with a grace that was both powerful and effortless, her presence commanding the room.

As practice continued, you kept an eye on the time, making sure everything stayed on schedule. Mina’s energy never wavered, her passion for performing evident in every move. You felt a swell of pride, knowing that you played a small part in supporting her journey.

When the clock struck 8 p.m., practice wrapped up. The group exchanged a few words of encouragement before heading out. Mina approached you, her face flushed with exertion but glowing with satisfaction.

“All done for the day,” she said, a hint of relief in her voice.

“Great job today, Mina. You were incredible,” you praised.

“Thanks to you,” she replied softly.

You smiled, your heart full. “Ready to go home?”

“You go on and head home, Hyunjin wanted to grab some food so I am going to meet with him and have him drop me home,” Mina says 

Hearing Mina’s gratitude made your heart swell, but it also brought a sharp pang of longing. A part of you wanted to stop her from going, to hold her back and keep her close, but you knew you had no right to do that. Being powerless in this situation, you could do nothing but nod and say, “Okay, good night, be careful!”

She gave you a warm smile. “Good night. See you tomorrow!”

You watched her walk away, every step pulling her further from you. The ache in your chest grew, but you forced a smile, hiding the turmoil within.

After Mina left, you made your way to your office to pack up. The room felt emptier than usual, the silence almost suffocating. You gathered your things, trying to focus on the tasks at hand, but your mind kept drifting back to Mina. The image of her smiling face, and her gentle words, lingered in your thoughts, a bittersweet reminder of what you could never have.

As you headed home, you took a detour through the parking lot. That’s when you saw them—Mina and Hyunjin. They were standing by his car, talking animatedly. Then, to your dismay, Hyunjin pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back, her expression relaxed and happy.

A wave of jealousy crashed over you, raw and intense. You gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles turning white. The helplessness you felt was overwhelming, the realization that you had no place at that moment, no right to feel this way, cutting deep.

Mina and Hyunjin broke apart, and she got into his car. You watched as they drove away, the taillights disappearing into the night. The sense of loss was almost tangible, a hollow ache that settled in your chest.

When you finally arrived home, the emptiness of your apartment felt even more pronounced. You dropped your bag by the door and sank onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. The events of the evening played over and over in your mind, each memory tinged with longing and regret.

You closed your eyes, trying to push away the thoughts, but they persisted. The sight of Mina and Hyunjin together, the easy affection between them—it was a stark reminder of everything you couldn’t have. The love you felt for her, unspoken and unrequited, weighed heavily on your heart.

Reaching for your phone, you scrolled through the photos you had taken during the shoot. Each picture was a testament to Mina’s beauty and talent, but also a painful reminder of the distance between you. You lingered on one photo, in particular, a candid shot of her laughing. It was a moment of pure joy, unguarded and real. You wished you could be the one to make her laugh like that, to share in her happiness in a way that went beyond friendship.

But you knew it was a dream, a fantasy that would never come true. Loving Mina from afar was all you had, and it had to be enough. You had to accept that.

******

This was the last music show Twice would be on for this comeback. The comeback had gone exceptionally well, with the group winning numerous awards. After this final performance, all the members were given some well-deserved free time to relax and enjoy themselves. As everyone waited in the dressing room, the atmosphere was filled with laughter and excitement.

You were busy making sure everything was in order when Hyunjin appeared at the door, carrying bags of food and drinks. He wore a bright smile, his presence immediately lifting the already jubilant mood.

“Hey everyone! I brought some snacks and drinks to celebrate your amazing comeback!” Hyunjin announced, his voice full of enthusiasm.

The members of Twice cheered, grateful for the thoughtful gesture. “Hyunjin! Thank you so much!” they chorused, crowding around him to take the treats.

You watched as Hyunjin handed out the food and drinks, your eyes inevitably drawn to Mina. She accepted a drink with a grateful smile, and then, to your dismay, Hyunjin made a beeline for her. They began chatting animatedly, their laughter filling the room.

You tried to focus on your tasks, but your attention kept drifting back to them. The way Hyunjin leaned in slightly when he spoke, the way Mina’s eyes sparkled with genuine happiness—each detail stoked the fire of jealousy burning in your chest.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mina gently touch Hyunjin’s arm, her gesture full of warmth and familiarity. It was a small act of affection, but it cut deeply. You felt powerless, standing there with your heart aching and your mind racing.

Trying to shake off the feelings, you busied yourself with organizing the room, making sure everyone had what they needed. But the image of Mina and Hyunjin together was seared into your mind.

Finally, you stepped outside for a moment, needing some air. The hallway was quieter, offering a brief respite from the whirlwind of emotions. You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths.

******

It had been two weeks since the holidays started, and as of today, it was the eighth time you were driving Mina to meet with Hyunjin. Each time hurt just as much as the first, and you had finally decided that this would be the last. You had asked to be transferred to a different department, and today you would tell Mina about it.

The drive was quiet, the air filled with unspoken tension. You stole a glance at Mina, who was looking out the window, a small smile playing on her lips. It made your heart ache, knowing this was the last time you’d be doing this.

When you arrived at the café where Hyunjin was waiting, you parked the car and turned to Mina. “Mina, can we talk for a moment before you go in?”

She looked at you, her smile fading slightly. “Sure, what’s up?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I’ve asked to be transferred to a different department.”

Mina’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why?”

You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice even. “I think it’s time for a change. I’ve been with you and the group for a long time, and I feel like it’s time to explore new opportunities within the company.”

“But… I need you,” Mina said softly, her eyes searching yours. “You’ve always been there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart clenched at her words, but you pushed forward. “You’ll be fine, Mina. You’re strong and talented, and you have a great team to support you. It’s not like I’ll be gone completely; I’ll just be in a different department.”

She looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “I guess… I just didn’t expect this. It feels sudden.”

“I know,” you said gently. “But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It’s not an easy decision, but I believe it’s the right one for both of us.”

Mina took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “If this is what you want, then I won’t stop you. But I’ll miss you. A lot.”

You smiled, trying to hide your pain. “I’ll miss you too, Mina. More than you know. But this isn’t goodbye forever. We’ll still see each other around.”

She reached out and took your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself. And if you ever need anything, you’ll let me know?”

“I promise,” you said, squeezing her hand back. “You take care of yourself too. And keep being the amazing person you are.”

Mina nodded, her grip on your hand lingering for a moment before she let go. “I should go. Hyunjin’s waiting.”

You nodded, watching as she got out of the car and walked towards the café. As she greeted Hyunjin with a warm smile and a hug, you felt the familiar pang of jealousy and heartache. But you knew this was the right decision, for both of you.

****** 

The next few weeks had been the worst. No matter what you did, you always thought about Mina, missing her laugh and her silly conversations. You knew it was for the best to avoid her because you needed to get over your feelings for her. So you drowned yourself in work, starting a new project on the production team for a new music video. All you did was eat, work, and sleep, not going out or even meeting with any of your friends.

One night, just as you were about to sleep, the doorbell rang. To your surprise, it was Jihyo. She was one of the other members you were close to.

“Hey, what is this I’m hearing? Are you no longer Mina’s manager?” she questioned.

“Yeah, it’s been a few weeks since I was transferred. Did she not tell you?” you replied coldly, not wanting to continue the conversation.

“She did, but the reason you gave her makes absolutely no sense. I know you, and you would never leave Mina, no matter how bored you got with the work. Otherwise, you would have never been her manager. So tell me, what is the real reason you left?” Jihyo asked her tone firm yet concerned.

You sighed, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “Jihyo, it’s complicated. I... I have feelings for Mina. And it was getting too hard to be around her, especially when she’s spending so much time with Hyunjin.”

Jihyo’s eyes softened with understanding. “Oh, I see. But from what I can see I don’t think they are dating. He’s been supportive during her comeback, but I don’t think there’s anything more than that.”

You shook your head, the pain still fresh. “It doesn’t matter. I needed to distance myself. It was too painful watching them together, even if they were just friends. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine.”

Jihyo looked at you thoughtfully. “I get it. But you know, Mina misses you. She’s been asking about you a lot. She doesn’t understand why you left so suddenly.”

“She’ll be fine, Jihyo. She has you and the rest of the group to support her,” you said, trying to convince yourself as much as her.

Jihyo sighed. “You’re right, but it’s not the same. You were always there for her, more than just a manager. She needs you, even if she doesn’t realize it.”

“I appreciate you coming here, Jihyo, but I’ve made my decision. I can’t go back. It’s too much,” you said, your voice filled with resignation.

Jihyo nodded slowly, seeing the determination in your eyes. “Alright. But if you ever change your mind, know that we’re here for you. And if you need to talk, about anything, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Jihyo. It means a lot,” you replied, feeling a small sense of relief from her understanding.

After Jihyo left, you thought a lot about what she said and how much you missed all the other girls. Realizing how your decision had affected not just Mina but also the rest of the members with whom you were close, you began to reconsider. Though you were busy with work, the occasional messages from them reminded you of the bond you shared.

A few months passed since your conversation with Jihyo. After the shooting of the music video and the comeback schedule finished, you were promoted to the head manager of Twice. It wasn't something you were particularly excited about, but the significant pay rise made it an offer you couldn't refuse. Still, you knew it was going to be challenging.

Not long after your promotion, you found out that Mina was dating Hyunjin. The news hit you hard, but you chose to ignore it and focused on your work. It was painful, but you buried yourself in your new responsibilities, determined to make the best of the situation.

Despite your busy schedule, you found solace in spending time with Jihyo. Whenever the two of you had free time, you would hang out and talk about various things, with golf being a frequent topic of conversation. Jihyo had insisted you try it, and to your surprise, you found it quite enjoyable.

One afternoon, after a particularly long day, Jihyo invited you to the driving range. "Come on, you need a break. Let’s hit some balls and unwind," she said, her tone light and encouraging.

You smiled, grateful for her persistence. "Alright, Jihyo. Lead the way."

As you both practiced your swings, the conversation flowed easily. Jihyo’s laughter and positive energy were infectious, helping you forget your troubles, even if just for a little while.

"So, how are you holding up with all the new responsibilities?" Jihyo asked, adjusting her stance.

"It's been a lot, but I'm managing," you replied, taking a swing. "I just try to stay focused on the work and not think too much about... other things."

Jihyo nodded, understanding. "I know it’s tough, but you’re doing great. We all appreciate everything you do for us."

Her words brought warmth to your heart. "Thanks, Jihyo. That means a lot."

As the sun began to set, you both sat down on a bench, enjoying the peaceful evening. "You know," Jihyo said thoughtfully, "I'm really glad we’ve been spending more time together. It’s nice having someone to talk to about things outside of work."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it’s been good for me too. I’ve needed the distraction."

Jihyo smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Well, anytime you need to vent or just hang out, I’m here. We’re all in this together, right?"

"Right," you agreed, feeling a sense of camaraderie and support that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

*******

Walking through the halls after taking a few printouts, you were suddenly pulled into a room. "Oh my god! What the fuck?" you screamed out of surprise.

It was even more shocking because it was Mina, who you hadn’t spoken to about anything other than work since you came back as the head manager. “Oh Mina, what happened? Is anything wrong?” you asked, trying to be professional despite your racing heart.

Mina’s eyes flashed with a mixture of emotions. “What’s wrong? You tell me! Ever since you came back, you’ve been avoiding me. You spend all your time with Jihyo now. What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Mina, it’s not like that. I’m just trying to do my job and—”

“Do your job? You barely even look at me anymore! We used to be so close, and now it’s like I don’t even exist to you unless it’s about work,” she interrupted, her voice rising.

“Mina, please understand. I needed some distance. It’s not personal,” you explained, your voice gentle but firm.

“Not personal? It feels pretty personal to me!” she shot back, her frustration clear. “I see you laughing and talking with Jihyo all the time. Why can’t you be like that with me?”

You sighed, struggling to find the right words. “Mina, it’s complicated. You have Hyunjin now, and I—”

Mina cut you off, her eyes narrowing. “What does Hyunjin have to do with this? This is about us. Our friendship.”

Before you could respond, she stepped closer, her eyes searching yours. “I miss you. I miss us,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Your heart ached at her words, but you knew you had to stay strong. “Mina, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you too. But things are different now.”

Her eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and determination. “Why can’t we go back to the way things were?”

As you tried to explain, she suddenly leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a brief, impulsive kiss. Shocked, you gently pushed her away, your heart pounding. “Mina, you can’t do this. You’re with Hyunjin.”

Mina stepped back, her face a mask of confusion and hurt. “I—I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “It’s okay, but we can’t do this. You need to figure out what you want.”

Mina nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I just… I don’t understand why this is happening. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not losing me, Mina. I’m still here, just in a different way,” you said softly. “But you need to be honest with yourself and with Hyunjin.”

She wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. “You’re right. I’m sorry for putting you in this position.” 

She left you alone in the room, and you collapsed to the ground. Kissing Mina was something you had always dreamed about, but somehow this wasn’t how you wanted it to be. It was overwhelming because you wanted nothing more than to give in to your desire, kiss her, and enjoy every single second of it. You wanted to hold her close and never let her go, but you knew this was something impulsive. Mina was confused, and at the end of the day, she would go back to her boyfriend.

Sitting there on the cold floor, you buried your face in your hands, trying to calm your racing heart. The weight of the situation bore down on you, and the reality of your feelings hit you harder than ever before.

After a few moments, you managed to pull yourself together and stood up, taking a deep breath. You knew you had to stay focused and professional, even if it felt like your heart was breaking.

As you walked back to your office, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The memory of her lips on yours was vivid, but you pushed it aside, knowing that dwelling on it would only make things worse. You had a job to do, and you needed to be strong.

Over the next few days, she kept her distance from you. You coordinated schedules, managed logistics, and ensured everything ran smoothly for Twice’s upcoming projects. The busyness helped to distract you, but it couldn't erase the ache in your chest.

During one of your breaks, you found yourself sitting with Jihyo in the practice room. She noticed the tired look in your eyes and gave you a concerned glance. “You okay? You seem a bit off lately.”

You forced a smile, not wanting to burden her with your troubles. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Does this have anything to do with Mina?”

Her perceptiveness caught you off guard, and you sighed, unable to hide the truth from her. “Yeah, we had a bit of a... moment the other day. It’s complicated.”

Jihyo frowned, leaning closer. “What happened?”

You hesitated but then decided to share. “She kissed me. It was impulsive, and I know she’s confused. I had to push her away because she was with Hyunjin. But it’s been eating me up inside.”

Jihyo’s expression softened with understanding. “That’s tough. But you did the right thing. She needs to figure out her feelings, and you can’t let yourself get caught up in that mess.”

“I know,” you said, your voice heavy with resignation. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Jihyo reached out and squeezed your hand. “Hang in there. Focus on the positive things, like our golf sessions. You’ve been improving a lot, you know.”

You chuckled and she hugged you, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Jihyo. It means a lot to me to know that I have 

Jihyo smiled warmly. “And remember, you’re not alone. We’re all here for you. Don’t be afraid to lean on us when you need to.” 

You didn’t let go of Jihyo for a few minutes because it felt calming, but that wasn’t the best idea. Mina walked into the room and saw it, her face contorting with fury. Not caring about anything else, Mina stormed towards you, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. Her grip was tight, her nails digging into your skin.

“Mina, stop! Where are you taking him?” Jihyo screamed, panic in her voice.

“Jihyo, stay out of this!” Mina screamed back, her voice echoing through the room. It was rare to hear Mina that loud, and Jihyo, shocked, decided to let you both figure it out yourselves.

Mina dragged you into an empty room down the hall, slamming the door shut behind her. She let go of your hand, and you rubbed the red marks left by her nails. "Mina, what the hell? What's going on?" you demanded, trying to keep your anger in check.

"What's going on?" Mina shot back, her eyes blazing. "You tell me! I walk in, and I see you all cozy with Jihyo. What am I supposed to think?"

"Mina, Jihyo was just trying to comfort me," you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "We're friends. That's all."

"Friends? You think I don't see what's going on?" she yelled, her voice breaking. "You’ve been avoiding me, spending all your time with Jihyo. Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"How it makes you feel?" you echoed incredulously. "Mina, you're the one who kissed me and then went back to Hyunjin like nothing happened! How do you think I feel?"

She flinched at your words, tears welling up in her eyes. "I... I don't know. I was confused. I still am. But seeing you with her... it hurts."

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Mina, I’ve been trying to deal with my feelings. It’s hard seeing you with Hyunjin, knowing I can't be with you the way I want to be. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you."

She stepped closer, her voice trembling. "I miss you. I miss us. I don't know what to do with these feelings, but I can’t stand seeing you with someone else."

You felt a pang of guilt and longing, but you knew you had to stay strong. "Mina, you need to figure out what you want. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, to Hyunjin, or me. It's not fair to any of us."

She looked down, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

You reached out, gently lifting her chin so she could meet your gaze. "It’s okay to be confused, Mina. But you need to be honest with yourself and with Hyunjin. Only then can we figure out what comes next."

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I will. I promise."

It was an improvement because there was some hope for you and Mina, as she was feeling something similar to what you were! But it was still confusing, and you needed time to think, especially after all that had just happened. You called in sick and left the set immediately, deciding to grab a drink to cool down a little.

You found a quiet bar a few blocks away and took a seat in a dimly lit corner. The bartender approached, and you ordered a drink, hoping it would help settle your racing thoughts. As you took your first sip, the events of the past few weeks replayed in your mind. The kiss, Mina’s outburst, the tension, and the hope of something more—it was all too much to process.

The bar was relatively empty, the low hum of conversations and soft music providing a comforting backdrop. You nursed your drink, trying to make sense of your feelings. Mina's confession had given you hope, but her confusion and the reality of her relationship with Hyunjin kept you grounded.

After a couple of drinks, you went home and eventually crashed.

It was the weekend, and you had no plans whatsoever. Planning to drown yourself in alcohol and play games the entire day, you settled into a routine of indulgence and distraction. Eventually, you fell asleep again in front of the TV, watching some stupid videos. You were woken up by a sudden knock on the door. Groggily walking to the door, disheveled, you opened it to find none other than the one woman in this entire world you were trying to avoid.

“Mina.”

She stood there, looking almost as disheveled as you felt, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of determination and hesitation. "Hey," she said softly, biting her lower lip.

"Hey," you replied, unable to hide your surprise and confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can I come in?"

You hesitated for a moment, but then stepped aside, letting her enter. The room was a mess, a testament to your recent attempts at distraction, and Mina took it all in with a concerned glance.

"I didn’t know where else to go," she admitted, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about. About us."

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and the fog of alcohol. "Mina, I don’t know if this is the best time..."

"I know," she interrupted, her eyes pleading. "But I can't keep avoiding this. Avoiding you. We need to talk."

You sighed, gesturing for her to sit down. "Okay, let’s talk." 

Just as you were about to turn around to get her some water, she grabbed you and pulled you into a kiss and yet again you pushed her away. 

“MINA!” You screamed. 

"I ended things with Hyunjin," she began, her voice steady but her eyes filled with emotion. "It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to you. I needed to be honest with myself and with you."

Your heart raced at her words, a mix of hope and fear swirling inside you. "Mina, that’s a big step. But where does that leave us?"

"I don’t know," she admitted, her voice trembling. "All I know is that I miss you. I miss us. And I can’t stand the thought of losing you."

You looked into her eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability there. "I miss you too, Mina. But this is complicated. We can’t just pretend everything’s okay."

“Fuck complicated! I need you right now. Those kisses are so intoxicating, it's like a drug, and I can’t live without it,” Mina said, already frustrated. You could see she was trying to hold back as much as you were.

You could no longer hold back either and finally gave in, pulling Mina into you and kissing her. The kiss was so passionate, tongues dancing. Her hands freely explored your body while yours did the same, tracing every curve and line, memorizing the feeling of her against you.

"Mina," you murmured against her lips, the word a mix of desire and need.

She responded by pressing closer, deepening the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. You could feel her heartbeat, rapid and strong, matching your own.

As your hands roamed, exploring every inch of each other, you felt a surge of emotions. Desire, yes, but also love and longing, things you had tried to suppress for so long. You broke the kiss, both of you panting, eyes locked.

"Mina, are you sure?" you asked, needing to know she wanted this as much as you did, despite the complications.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice breathless but certain. "I've never been more sure of anything."

You pulled her back into another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate, savoring each second. The tension between you, built up over months, finally found release in the shared intimacy. It was like nothing else mattered but the two of you, here and now.

You carried her to the couch, your movements urgent but careful, laying her down gently. She looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire and trust. "I've wanted this for so long," she confessed, her voice soft.

"Me too," you admitted, leaning down to kiss her again, your hands exploring the soft skin beneath her shirt, skin as smooth as silk. She fit so perfectly in your hand. 

Your hands sneak underneath her bra, playing with her boobs, her nipples hard as a rock causing her to moan. The bra was a disturbance so you unclasp it and take it off Mina. 

“Mina you are so fucking perfect. You don’t know just how happy I am right now,” you say. Not able to contain your excitement, you bite Mina’s neck you knew it would leave a mark but you didn’t care because right now she belonged to you and no one else. 

“Ngh! Y/N slow down, it’s going to leave a mark,” Mina says as she tries to push you away. 

Pulling away from Mina you look into her eyes and say “That’s what I want. I want everyone to know that you belong to me now.”

Mina’s face turned red, “hey! Don’t say that,” Mina said as she buried her face in her hands. 

“Alright, I will do it somewhere no one can see then,” you say before you begin nibbling just above Mina’s right breast. Mina’s breasts must have been a sensitive spot for her because as you nibbled on her breast, you could hear her moan and her grip on your head tighten. 

To ensure that Mina’s other breast is equally attended, use your hand to play with the nipple. After giving her boobs the appreciation they deserved, you began to place kisses all over her body, memorizing every inch of her perfect body. She had a few moles on her body and you placed kisses on them multiple times before moving on. Mina’s moans echoed through the room as you worshipped her body. Once you reached her pants you looked up at Mina, asking for permission and she nodded, but before you took off her pants you said, “If we are going to do this then I would rather have my first time with you on a  proper bed.”

Grabbing Mina’s hand you pull her with you to the room, once you are inside, you kneel in front of her. Pulling her pants down along with her panties, placing kisses on her thighs near her but not touching it. 

The pants now discarded, Mina stood in your room naked, a scene that you never thought would become reality. Taking one of Mina’s legs you place it on your shoulder, her wet pussy on full display for you. 

“D-don’t stare,” Mina says, shy from how vulnerable she is. 

“Artwork such as this needs to be admired, baby,” you say, not noticing the endearment you had just used. Not wanting to keep her waiting, you dive into her pussy, licking it. Her pussy was delicious, something that you would never get tired of eating. 

Mina grabbed your hair, trying to keep her balance and not fall. Her moans get louder every second. The pleasure slowly took over her brain, her pussy throbbed around your fingers every time you flicked her clit. 

“CUMMINGG!” Mina screamed before squirting all over your face. Her balance was completely lost, she was leaning completely on your body and was able to stand with some help from the bed frame. 

But that balance soon gave in and she ended up falling onto the bed, recovering from her orgasm, still panting and shaking. You joined her on the bed, lying down next to her, waiting for her to come back to reality. 

“Fuck, This is the first time, I came that hard,” Mina says, after coming down from the high. 

“My turn now,” Mina says before getting up to undo your pants and get rid of them. She slowly pulls down your underwear and your dick pops out and hits Mina in the face. 

“Someone’s eager,” Mina says, grabbing your cock she starts to stroke it, slowly using her spit as the lube. After stroking it for a few seconds, she took your cock in her mouth. It was warm and just as perfect as you imagined it would be.

Mina began bobbing her head, trying her best to take more of your cock, she was struggling to take your entire length but you didn’t mind because the way she looked at you made you go feral, her look was that of someone wanting praise. 

“Fuck! Mina, I want to fuck your mouth so badly,” you said, doing your best to hold back and not scare her away. 

Mina pulls your cock out of her mouth, panting and coughing from how much she was pushing herself. “Do it the, fuck my face please, I want to make you cum the same way that you did to me,” Mina said, looking up at you with those captivating eyes, begging to be used for your pleasure and who were you to say no. 

She slowly puts your cock back into her mouth and begins bobbing and pushing herself as deep as she could. Grabbing the back of her head, you push her head further into your body until her nose touches your pelvis bone, Mina gagged a little but she didn’t resist. 

You pulled it out a little before you started pounding her face, “Fuck, I’m going to cum!” you groaned before pushing Mina’s head down your dick and releasing all your cum down her throat.

After you stopped cumming, Mina swallowed up all your cum, without any complaints at all. 

You watched as Mina walked to the washroom, to clean up a little, her as swaying from one side to the other. With every step her ass cheeks bouncing. This turned you on a lot more than you thought it would. 

As soon as Mina came back you pushed her onto the bed and got on top of her, pinning both her hands above her head. 

“How are you so fucking gorgeous? It's driving me crazy,” You say to Mina, looking deep into her eyes. They soften at your compliment, it wasn’t just out of lust but out of pure admiration for her and she knew it. 

“I could ask you the same thing, how is it possible that you don’t have women dying for you because I would do anything to be with you,” Mina says. 

Closing the distance, her breath touching your skin, “Then prove it to me!” 

Mina closes the distance between you, lips touching and moving in harmony. “Enough, please fuck me, I have wanted this for so long, I can’t wait anymore,” Mina says, you can hear how desperate she is. 

“Nor can I baby,” you say before positioning your cock at Mina’s entrance, slapping and teasing it. Her wet pussy juice sticking to your cock.

“Stop teasing and put it in,” Mina whined and you obliged, slowly pushing your tip into her, god was she tight, she was gripping onto your tip so hard. You continue to push into her slowly but stop all when you hear Mina scream.

You start to pull out a little because you don’t want to hurt Mina, “No!! Keep going please, just slowly,” Mina says as she grips your arms. 

“Baby, you need to relax, you are too tense and that's why it’s hurting you,” You say to Mina before leaning in to kiss her. 

Mina’s focused on the kiss, tongue in your mouth, taking this opportunity, you push into her again slowly 

“HGNH” Mina groaned again but she relaxed, focusing more on the kiss. 

Once you were in her completely you stayed still allowing her to adjust and not wanting to hurt her. After a minute or so Mina pulls away from the kiss and says,” You can move now,” 

You begin to move slowly in the beginning. You tried different angles to find Mina’s most sensitive spot. Moans filled the room, louder every time you hit a certain spot. Pleasure building up Mina wanted more,

“Harder, you can go harder,” Mina managed to say in between her moans. Obliging with her commands your thrusts get harder. It was truly a sight to take in, Mina’s tits bouncing out of control, her moans loud enough to be heard by your neighbors, and the most erotic expression on her face. 

“Ahh fuck! Keep going! Oh my fucking god,” All sorts of obscenities were coming out of Mina’s mouth, her elegant image was being destroyed and you were the reason for it. 

You couldn’t hold on much longer but you didn’t want it to end. Without pulling out, you picked Mina up, holding her in your arms as you continued to pound her. Your dick now hitting much deeper. 

“Oh fuck! Keep going, I need you so badly!” Mina moaned as her hands gripped onto your back, nails digging in, and her legs on your hands as you thrust into her.  

After thrusting into Mina’s tight pussy for many minutes, “CUMMING!” Mina screams as she squirts all over your cock. Your dick slips out of her and is now coated with her liquid. 

Soon recovering from her orgasm still in your arms she whispers something that you didn’t expect to hear. “Let me ride you,” 

It was a shocking suggestion but one that you welcomed. You set her down on the bed and join her on the bed, She is now sitting on you, her legs on each side of your body. Her pussy lips are right above your cock. 

Not wasting much time, Mina pushes your cock into her, it wasn’t that hard as now she was a little more relaxed once it was fully in she began bouncing on it like no tomorrow. She was amazing, it was like nothing you had ever felt, the way she moved was immaculate. 

Mina leans down to kiss you as she continues to ride your cock. Given how much her pussy was throbbing it wouldn’t be much longer before she was cumming all over your cock again. 

You grab a hold of her ass and push her down harsher, it takes her by surprise causing her to yelp. You were thrusting into Mina’s G-spot causing her to scream in pleasure. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slapping and the profanities that came out of Mina’s mouth. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” Mina warned this time before she orgasmed all over your cock again but this time you didn’t stop. 

“F-fuck.. I can’t- ‘s too much,” Mina cried, tears staining her pretty cheeks as you continued to thrust into her even though she just came

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mina cried, a clear stream of liquid gushing out from her pussy

“There we go, that’s a good fucking girl,” you praised, thrusts getting sloppier as you approached your second orgasm. “God baby, you’re gripping me so hard. Gonna cum in that tight little pussy okay?” 

Mina’s head was so empty, nodding absentmindedly as her eyes threatened to close shut. “Fuck” you groaned loudly, bottoming out inside her and allowing your seed to fill you up. Some of it dripped down your thigh as he pulled out.

Mina was panting hard in an attempt to catch your breath, the body still spasming as you let her fall limp against your chest. “you’re a meanie,” Mina pouted tiredly, feeling your pussy flutter at the newfound emptiness.

“I know I am baby, but you did so good, took it so well” you chuckled, gripping the flesh of her ass as you kissed softly down the delicate skin on her neck.

After both of you came down from the high of your orgasms, you finally realized what just happened and how big this was. 

“Mina, this means that we are dating, right? Because I don’t think I could ever face you as anything but your boyfriend after what we just did,” you said, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your words.

Mina looked up at you, her eyes softening as she took in the seriousness of your expression. She reached out, cupping your face in her hands, and smiled. "Yes, it does. I want us to be together. I’ve wanted it for a long time."

Relief and joy flooded through you, and you leaned down to kiss her again, this time with a sense of certainty and commitment. The kiss was tender, full of promises for the future.

The next morning, you woke up with Mina in your arms, her presence a comforting warmth against your side. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Mina stirred, blinking sleepily as she looked up at you.

"Good morning," she whispered, her voice still husky with sleep.

"Good morning," you replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Happy," she said simply, snuggling closer. "And a little scared, but mostly happy."

You nodded, understanding the mix of emotions. "Me too. But we’ll figure it out, together."

She smiled, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest. "Yes, together."

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of adjustments. You had to navigate your new relationship while maintaining professionalism at work. There were moments of awkwardness, but also moments of pure bliss as you both found your rhythm.

You and Mina kept your relationship private, sharing it only with those closest to you. Jihyo was ecstatic when she found out, giving you both a knowing smile and a heartfelt hug. The other members were equally supportive, happy to see Mina truly happy.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you and Mina found yourselves on the company rooftop, a favorite spot for a quiet escape. The city lights twinkled below, and the cool breeze provided a perfect backdrop for a heart-to-heart conversation.

"Can you believe how far we’ve come?" Mina mused, leaning against you.

"It feels surreal," you admitted, wrapping an arm around her. "But I wouldn’t change a thing."

She turned to face you, her expression serious. "I know this won’t always be easy. There will be challenges, both personal and professional. But I want to face them with you."

"We will," you assured her, kissing her forehead. "One step at a time."

As the night grew darker, you both sat there, comfortable in the silence and each other's company, knowing that no matter what came next, you were in it together.