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flux1563 · 6 days ago

Text

Between two worlds ft. Gaeul

Words : 9k

Tags : multiple orgasm, squirting, public sex, creampie

In the bustling heart of Seoul, where neon lights painted the night in vivid hues, there was a young woman named Gaeul. Known to millions as the ethereal center of a chart-topping K-pop group, she had the kind of white skin and skinny frame that seemed to float on the pages of glossy magazines. Her eyes, a deep brown, held a spark that could electrify an entire stadium. With a height of 164 cm, she cut a delicate figure, her every move a study in precision and poise.

Gaeul stepped out of the luxurious van that had brought her to the club, the paparazzi's flashes leaving afterimages like a trail of shooting stars in her vision. The air had the promise of music and mischief, a stark contrast to the meticulously crafted image she presented to the world. The club's bassline thrummed through her, setting her nerves alight with an energy she hadn't felt in months. A rare night out, away from the suffocating embrace of her manager's schedule, she craved the anonymity of the pulsating crowd.

Inside, the club was a cavern of shadows and strobing lights, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the sweat of freedom. Gaeul felt a rush of exhilaration as she slipped into the throng, her heart racing in time with the music. The press of bodies, the smiles and whispers of recognition that danced around her, it was all a thrilling masquerade.

Her eyes fell upon you, Y/N, a stranger amidst the sea of faces. You were tall, with broad shoulders that tapered down to a waist that made her heart flutter. There was something about your confident stride, the way you moved with the music, that spoke of a soul unshackled by the constraints of the world outside these walls. You noticed her watching, and for a moment, your gazes locked, the music fading to a distant hum as the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Gaeul felt an unexplainable pull, a gravitational force drawing her to you. She approached, her heart a wild drumline in her chest. You didn't flinch at her celebrity, instead, you offered a genuine smile that made her feel like she was more than just the sum of her parts. Together, you began to dance, your movements complementing each other's as if you'd been partners for a lifetime. The air around you crackled with an undeniable chemistry.

The dance floor became a stage, the spotlight of the DJ's attention shifting to the magnetic pair. Your hands found hers, and the electricity grew stronger, a dance of fingers and palms that spoke a language more intimate than words. As the music reached a crescendo, the tension between you was palpable, a silent symphony of attraction that could no longer be contained.

Her heart racing, Gaeul leaned in, and you met her halfway. Your lips met in a kiss that was fiery yet tender, a secret shared in the chaos of the dance floor. It was a moment out of time, a silent promise that the night had only just begun. When you finally pulled away, breathless and grinning, she whispered in your ear, "Would you come to my apartment?" The question hung in the air, laden with anticipation and desire. Without a moment's hesitation, you nodded, your eyes reflecting the excitement that danced in hers.

You followed her out of the club, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warm embrace of the club's interior. Gaeul led the way to a sleek, black sedan parked at the curb, the engine purring quietly. The driver opened the door for her, and she slid in, beckoning for you to join her. The car's interior was a cocoon of luxury, the leather seats enveloping you both as you sped through the neon-lit streets of Seoul. The city passed by in a blur, a vibrant tapestry of life outside the window that seemed so far removed from the intimate bubble you now shared.

The sedan pulled up to a towering building, its glass façade gleaming under the moonlight. Gaeul's apartment was high above the city, a penthouse that offered a breathtaking panorama of the urban sprawl. The elevator ride was a silent countdown to an unknown future, the air thick with the promise of what lay beyond the doors. As the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Gaeul took your hand, her touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Her apartment was a sanctuary, a stark contrast to the chaos of her public life. The walls were adorned with art that spoke of quiet contemplation, and the floor was a cool marble that seemed to whisper secrets underfoot. The living room was bathed in soft, muted lighting, casting an intimate glow over the plush sofas and the grand piano that sat in the corner, a silent sentinel of her other passion. Gaeul slipped off her heels, the sound echoing through the space, and you followed suit, feeling the comfort of the plush carpet beneath your feet.

Without a word, you took her hand, leading her to the couch. The tension between you had grown into something palpable, a living entity that demanded release. You leaned in, your eyes never leaving hers, and kissed her again, deeper this time, your tongues exploring the uncharted territory of each other's mouths. Her hands found their way to your shoulders, then slid down to the hem of your shirt, her fingertips tracing the lines of your abdomen as she pushed the fabric upward.

Gaeul's skin was warm and soft, and as you touched her, she shivered with pleasure. Your kisses grew more urgent, your hands working in tandem to strip away the layers that separated you. Her dress fell to the floor, revealing the lacy lingerie beneath, a stark contrast to the armor she wore on stage. She broke the kiss only to whisper a breathy "yes," her eyes never leaving yours, a silent invitation to continue.

With trembling fingers, you unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the floor with a whisper of fabric. Her breasts were small but perfect, the nipples peaked with desire. You took one in your mouth, teasing it with your tongue as she gasped and arched her back. Her hands found the button of your pants, and with a flick of her wrist, the zipper was undone. You stepped out of them, leaving only your boxers as a barrier to the warmth of her touch.

The air was heavy with the scent of desire, a heady mix of perfume and pheromones that seemed to amplify every sensation. Your heart was racing, the blood pounding in your ears as you slid her panties down her legs, revealing the apex of her thighs. She was bare and beautiful, and you couldn't help but marvel at the sight before you. Gaeul reached for you, her hand wrapping around your hardness, her touch sending shockwaves through your body.

Her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink as she caught you staring. "Don't look at me like that," she murmured, but the way she said it was more of a challenge than a reprimand. Her eyes held a playful glint, and you could see the excitement dancing in their depths. You met her gaze, unable to resist the allure of her unblemished skin and the way her body responded to your touch. She was a vision, and you were the lucky one who got to behold her.

With a smirk, you leaned in and whispered, "I think your fans will envy me," your voice low and teasing. The laugh that bubbled from her was genuine, a sound that didn't often reach the ears of the outside world. It was a rare glimpse into the person she was when the lights and cameras weren't watching. She playfully swatted at your chest, but her hand lingered, her thumb tracing circles over your heart.

You took the cue and gently pulled her closer, your hand sliding around to unbutton your shirt. As the fabric parted, revealing your bare chest and abs, Gaeul's eyes widened in surprise. But it was the sight of your boxers, straining against your arousal, that truly left her speechless. With a sense of the dramatic flair that was part of your own nature, you slid the boxers down, freeing your erection. It stood proudly, the size of it making even Gaeul gasp. Her eyes were glued to the thick length of you, her pupils dilating as she took in the full view.

Her hand reached out tentatively, her fingertips brushing against your skin. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves through your body. She wrapped her hand around you, her grip firm yet gentle, and began to stroke. It was a heady experience, having this goddess of K-pop, adored by millions, worship your body in the quiet sanctity of her penthouse.

With a hunger that could no longer be contained, you guided her to the plush carpet. The coolness of the floor sent a thrill up her spine as you laid her down, her legs spreading to accommodate your weight. Your kisses grew more fervent as they trailed down her neck, her collarbone, her breasts, until finally, your mouth found her center. Gaeul's hips bucked in response, her body arching like a bow drawn taut.

Her grip on your hair tightened as she whispered, "Yeah, keep going, I'm gonna cum." Her voice was a sweet symphony of pleasure, the words echoing in your mind like a siren's call. You lapped at her eagerly, your tongue exploring her folds with a mastery that surprised even you. Her breaths grew ragged, her body trembling beneath you as the tension built to a crescendo.

And then she screamed. A primal, uninhibited "Ahhhh" that filled the room, her legs shaking so hard it was as if she was in the throes of a seizure. Her back arched off the floor, her body a sculpture of ecstasy as she reached her peak. The sound was a declaration of your power over her, a testament to the intimate connection you two shared in this stolen moment.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she met your gaze, a soft smile playing on her lips. "That was..." she began, but the words trailed off as she struggled to find the right ones. You kissed her thigh, the taste of her still lingering on your tongue, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. You had given her something she hadn't experienced before, something real and raw and utterly human.

After catching her breath, Gaeul pushed herself up onto her knees, her eyes never leaving yours. Your cock stood tall and proud before her, a symbol of your desire for her. She reached out tentatively, her hand cupping you with a reverence that made you ache.

"Is this your first time with a cock this big?" you asked, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

Gaeul nodded, her cheeks still flushed from her orgasm. "Yes," she murmured, her eyes wide and earnest. "In all the glamour of this industry, the men are often... less than adequate." Her confession was a stark reminder of the hidden truths behind the glitzy façade of stardom.

With a gentle smirk, you leaned back, giving her more room to explore. "Don't worry," you assured her, your voice low and soothing. "I'll go slow." Her hand hovered over your erection, her thumb tracing the vein that pulsed along the shaft. Her curiosity was palpable, and you felt a thrill at the thought of being her guide in this new realm of pleasure.

You took her hand and brought it closer, wrapping her delicate fingers around your girth. "Start with your hand," you instructed, showing her how to pump gently. Gaeul's eyes were wide with fascination as she followed your lead, her grip tightening and loosening in time with your demonstration. The sight of her small hand trying to encircle your cock was more arousing than you could've ever imagined.

"Now, use your mouth," you said, your voice a gentle command. Gaeul leaned in, her eyes never leaving yours. She kissed the tip, her soft lips a tantalizing promise of what was to come. You felt your cock twitch in anticipation as she took you into her mouth, her teeth grazing your sensitive skin. You guided her, showing her how to take more of you in without gagging, her eyes watering slightly as she adjusted to your size.

You praised her with murmurs of approval, encouraging her as she found her rhythm. Her cheeks hollowed with effort, and she took you deeper, her tongue swirling around the head in a dance that had you gritting your teeth to hold back. She was a fast learner, eager and attentive. Each stroke of her mouth sent bolts of pleasure shooting through your body, making your toes curl and your abs tighten.

Gaeul's eyes remained locked on yours as she bobbed up and down, her hand still working in tandem with her lips. You could see the concentration in her eyes, the determination to please you. It was a heady feeling, one that only served to amplify your desire. You reached down to caress her cheek, the silkiness of her skin a stark contrast to the rough stubble on your own.

Her eyes grew more focused, more intense, as she took you deeper still. The saliva from her mouth coated your length, making it slick and easier to glide in and out of her. You felt your control slipping, your hips beginning to thrust gently, urging her to take more of you in. Her moans of effort only served to turn you on further, the vibrations resonating through your cock and straight to your core.

"Glukk... glukk... glukk," she murmured, the wet sound of her mouth enveloping you. You watched in amazement as she took you in, her cheeks hollowed out, her throat working around you. Gaeul had never felt so alive, so in the moment. The power dynamics of their world had flipped, and she was in control, the one bringing pleasure to the person she had once thought untouchable.

"Ahh, so tight and warm, Gaeul," you moaned, the words sending a bolt of pleasure straight to her core. She redoubled her efforts, eager to hear more of those delicious sounds. You could feel your orgasm building, the tension in your body tightening like a coil ready to spring. Your hand found its way to the back of her head, guiding her, setting a rhythm that had your toes curling in the plush carpet.

Her eyes watered and she gagged a little, but she didn't stop. Instead, she took it as a challenge, pushing herself to take more of you in. The sounds of her efforts grew more urgent, a symphony of "glukk" and "gluk" as she worked her mouth along your length. You watched in amazement, feeling your climax near, the base of your cock swelling with each passing second.

And then it hit. "Ahh, I'm cumming," you warned, your voice strained with pleasure. But instead of slowing down, you thrust into her mouth harder, faster, your hand tightening in her hair. Gaeul took it all, her eyes never leaving yours, her own arousal spiking at the sight of your pleasure. Your cock pulsed, and she felt the hot, thick jets of cum hit the back of her throat. She swallowed instinctively, her eyes widening in surprise at the taste and the sensation of having you come in her mouth.

As the last tremors of your orgasm subsided, you pulled away, leaving Gaeul panting and gasping for air. Her lips were swollen and wet, a testament to her dedication. You watched as she licked her lips, savoring the taste of you. "Wow," she murmured, a hint of awe in her voice. "That was..."

You chuckled, running a thumb over her plump lower lip, catching a rogue droplet of cum. "A little too much?"

Gaeul's eyes twinkled with mischief. "No," she said, swiping her tongue across her lips. "It's perfect." She sat up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

The power had shifted again, and now it was your turn to be the eager pupil. "Get on all fours," you told her, your voice firm but not unkind. Gaeul's heart raced at the command, and she felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of being taken so primally. She obeyed, her skinny body moving with the grace of a gazelle as she got onto her hands and knees on the plush carpet.

Her ass was high in the air, the perfect handfuls of flesh that you hadn't been able to stop thinking about since the moment you saw her in the club. You knelt behind her, taking a moment to appreciate the view. Gaeul glanced back over her shoulder, a seductive smile playing on her lips. "Is this what you want?" she purred, the challenge in her tone unmistakable.

You didn't answer with words, instead, you lined yourself up with her slick, waiting entrance. With one firm thrust, you pushed into her, the sound of your hips slapping against her skin echoing through the penthouse. Gaeul's gasp was music to your ears, her "Ahhhh" a symphony of pleasure and surprise as you filled her completely. Her walls tightened around you, a velvet vise that had you groaning with the intensity of sensation.

"Already cumming? Such a needy slut," you murmured, your voice a mix of amusement and satisfaction. Gaeul's eyes flashed with a hint of defiance, but she didn't deny it. Instead, she pushed back into you, urging you to go deeper. Your rhythm grew faster, the sound of skin on skin punctuating the quiet of the night. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her feel alive in a way she hadn't in years.

"Yeah, fuck me like a dirty slut," she repeated, her voice a throaty growl that sent a shiver down your spine. The words were like a drug, spurring you on to claim her even more fiercely. You reached around to find her clit, rubbing it in circles as you pounded into her. Gaeul's moans grew louder, a symphony of pleasure that filled the room. Her body trembled with each thrust, her muscles tightening around you as she approached another orgasm.

Her nails dug into the carpet, the pain a sharp counterpoint to the exquisite feeling of you inside her. "Harder," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. You didn't hold back, slamming into her with all the force you had. The sound of your hips smacking against her ass filled the air, a rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest. You could feel her pussy getting tighter, her body preparing for another powerful release.

"Oh, fuck, yes," Gaeul moaned, her voice hoarse with passion. "Make it hurt so good."

Her words were like gasoline on a fire, and you picked up the pace, each thrust more powerful than the last. Your hands gripped her hips tightly, leaving bruises that would serve as reminders of this illicit night. Gaeul's body moved in sync with yours, her hips pushing back to meet your every advance. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the air, a cacophony of desire that drowned out the distant sounds of the city.

With a wicked grin, you raised your hand and brought it down sharply on her ass. The slap echoed through the room, and she yelped, "Ahh, it hurts!" But the way she pushed back into you, the way her pussy clenched around your cock, told you she didn't mean it. You smacked her again, the sound louder this time, leaving a red handprint on her pale skin. Her moan was a mix of pain and pleasure, a siren's song that only made you want to give her more.

Her breath grew ragged, and she began to chant, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum again." Her words were a sweet incantation, a spell that had you utterly captivated. Without a second thought, you reached for your phone, the glow of the screen briefly illuminating your face. You started to record, capturing every second of her impending release.

But then, she looked back at you, her eyes wide with a sudden panic. "Don't record it," Gaeul said.

You paused, your hand hovering over your phone, a smirk playing on your lips. "Don't lie, Gaeul. Your pussy gets tighter when I record it," you said, your voice a low purr of challenge. She bit her lip, the internal struggle clear on her face. The thrill of the forbidden, the knowledge that this moment could be captured and watched again, was too tempting.

Her eyes searched yours, and you knew she was weighing the risks. The walls of her penthouse were thick, the chances of anyone hearing them minimal. But the thought of being caught, the possibility of the video leaking, was a thrill she hadn't experienced in a long time. Gaeul's breath hitched as she nodded, a silent permission for you to continue. You tapped the record button again, the red light a beacon of their shared desire.

With renewed vigor, you slammed into her, each stroke a declaration of your dominance. Your hand fell in a steady rhythm, the slap of your palm against her skin echoing through the room. Her cries grew louder, a symphony of pleasure that matched the beat of your hips. Each smack was met with a whine and a thrust, her body begging for more as you painted a picture of passion on the canvas of her skin. The red handprint grew darker with each hit, a brand of your claim on her perfect ass.

"Fuck, Gaeul, I'm gonna cum," you growled, the words a declaration of war on your last shred of control. She looked back at you, her eyes glazed with desire, her cheeks flushed from the exertion and the sting of your hand.

"Just cum inside me," she breathed, her voice a desperate plea that sent a shiver down your spine. "Fill me up." It was a demand that was as much a declaration of trust as it was a bid for dominance.

With a roar of pleasure, you did as she asked, releasing a torrent of cum deep within her, marking her as yours. Gaeul's body convulsed around you, her own orgasm crashing over her like a wave. She collapsed onto the floor, her legs trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

You pulled out of her, the sight of her gaping pussy, slick with your seed, making you groan. You couldn't help but capture it, the phone's camera zooming in on the intimate view. Her body was a canvas of pleasure, sweat glistening on her skin, the red handprint on her ass a stark contrast to her porcelain complexion. You moved to film her face, the camera capturing her flushed cheeks, her eyes glazed with satisfaction, her swollen lips parted in a soft moan.

Gaeul looked up at you, her eyes hooded with passion. "Show me," she panted, her voice barely above a whisper. You handed her the phone, and she took it with shaking hands, her eyes devouring the footage. The sight of herself being fucked so thoroughly, her body's reactions laid bare, was intoxicating. She watched as you recorded her, the video a testament to the raw, primal connection you shared.

The video played on a loop, the sounds of your lovemaking a siren's call that drew you both back in. Each groan and sigh, each smack of your hand against her flesh, was a reminder of the power and vulnerability you had shared. The red handprint on her ass was a trophy, a symbol of your passion, and she traced it with a fingertip, the slight sting sending a fresh jolt of arousal through her.

The room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a heady aroma that seemed to cling to the air. You sat beside her, your legs tangled together, watching the footage unfold. Gaeul's hand drifted between her legs, her fingers finding her sensitive clit. The sight of her touching herself, her body still trembling from your touch, was too much to bear. Your cock grew hard again, eager to claim her once more.

Without a word, you leaned over and took the phone from her, setting it aside. "Let me show you how much of a slut you are," you murmured, your voice thick with desire. You pushed her onto her back and spread her legs wide, the camera capturing the moment with a cold, unflinching eye. Her pussy was open and inviting, your cum leaking out of her and down her thighs. You dipped a finger in, watching as her eyes rolled back in her head.

You brought your hand to her mouth, the scent of sex strong on your skin. "Taste yourself," you ordered, and she obeyed, sucking your finger with a hunger that surprised even you. Gaeul's tongue swirled around your digit, tasting her own juices mixed with yours. The sight was too much, and you found yourself growing harder still, your need for her insatiable.

You leaned down, your cock nudging against her entrance. She was so wet, so open, that it took no effort to slide back in. Her legs wrapped around you, her heels digging into your back as you began to move again, the rhythm slower, more deliberate. The camera rolled, capturing every intimate moment, every gasp and moan, every bead of sweat that rolled down her body.

The world outside the penthouse walls had ceased to exist. In this moment, there was only you and Gaeul, your bodies joined in a dance of passion and power. And as you watched the footage, you knew that this was only the beginning. The night was still young, and there was so much more to explore, so much more to conquer. The story of your forbidden union was being written in sweat and sighs, in the stark red of her ass and the glint of the camera lens.

You moved from position to position, each one more intimate, more erotic than the last. Gaeul's lithe body was a canvas for your desires, her moans the brushstrokes that painted the picture of your pleasure. You recorded every moment, every twitch and spasm, every gasp and cry. Her legs wrapped around you in a vice-like grip, her heels digging into your back as you claimed her in every way possible. You watched the reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows, the two of you a tableau of lust that could never be forgotten.

When you were both spent, you led her to the bathroom, the marble countertop cold against her skin as you sat her down. The room was bathed in a soft, candlelit glow, the steam from the running tub a gentle caress against your skin. You filled the tub with water scented with jasmine and lavender, the fragrance a gentle reprieve from the raw scent of sex that hung in the air.

With a lazy grin, you grabbed the phone from the floor, the wetness from the pool of your combined juices smearing across the screen. You sat cross-legged in the tub, the water lapping against your skin as you began to scroll through the footage. Gaeul leaned against you, her head on your shoulder, her eyes glued to the screen.

"See, baby?" you said, your voice smug as you played back the moments of her body shuddering under your touch. "You're a fucking goddess."

Her cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment. "It's just... I've never felt this way before," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. "It's so raw, so... real."

You chuckled and kissed her temple. "And that's what makes it hot," you said, your hand idly stroking her thigh. "You should think about it, though. An OnlyFans account. You'd make a fortune."

Her eyes snapped to yours, a spark of excitement in them. "Really?" she breathed. "You think so?"

You nodded, your cock stirring again at the thought of her sharing her beauty with the world. "Just blur your face," you said, your voice a low rumble. "Let them see the body that drives them wild every time you're on stage."

The idea grew in her mind like a seed planted in fertile ground. Anonymity had always been a struggle in her line of work, but this... this could be her escape. A way to claim power over her sexuality and share her passion without the constraints of her public image.

The water grew cold around you, but neither of you noticed as you continued to watch the steamy scenes play out. Gaeul's hand trailed down to her pussy, her fingers idly toying with her clit as the video played. You felt your own arousal stirring once again, your cock thickening against her back.

With a growl, you turned her to face you, the water sloshing around you both. "Again?" she whispered, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"Always," you replied, your eyes dark with lust.

The night went on like a never-ending symphony of pleasure, each position a new note to be played. You recorded it all, the camera capturing every inch of her body as you explored each other with an intensity that left you both breathless. The walls of the penthouse echoed with your moans, the sound of slapping flesh a testament to your unbridled passion.

In the days that followed, Gaeul found herself in a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. The idea of creating an OnlyFans account, a secret garden where she could share her sexuality without the prying eyes of her fans and management, was intoxicating. She chose the name 'like kim gaeul' as a clever nod to her stage persona, a way to keep her identity hidden while still giving a nod to her public image.

The first content she uploaded was a still from that fateful night, a shot of her bent over in doggystyle, your hand raised in mid-air, poised to deliver a firm spank. The caption read, "Imagine Kim Gaeul getting spanked in this position." The photo was tasteful yet tantalizing, a teaser that had subscribers clamoring for more. The power of anonymity was intoxicating, allowing her to express herself without the fear of judgment or repercussion.

The comments section exploded with excitement, the words "Wow, she's like Gaeul," "Gaeul is such a slut in this," and "I can't believe she's doing this" repeated over and over. Each message sent a thrill through her, the knowledge that she was giving them something they hadn't expected, something that made them question everything they knew about their favorite idol. It was a heady feeling, one that had her body buzzing with anticipation.

Her subscribers grew by the hundreds, and with each new member, Gaeul felt a little more powerful. The thrill of being someone else, of being the slut they all dreamed of, was like a drug. She found herself eagerly checking her inbox, eager to see the reactions to her latest posts. The thought of her fans getting off to her content was a constant source of arousal, her pussy always wet and ready.

One particularly daring fan wrote, "I bet if Gaeul saw this, she'd want to be my slut too." The message was a spark that set her imagination ablaze. What would happen if the real Gaeul found out about her secret life? Would she be repulsed or intrigued? The risk was exhilarating, a thrill she hadn't felt since her early days in the industry. She decided to lean into the fantasy, posting a video with the caption, "What if Gaeul was really this naughty?" Her heart raced as she hit send, the anticipation of their reactions a delicious torment.

The feedback was overwhelming, a deluge of comments praising her beauty, her brazenness, her willingness to be their fantasy. It was like a drug, each message feeding the fire in her belly, making her want more. The line between Gaeul the idol and Gaeul the slut grew thinner, until she could almost believe it herself. Her mind raced with ideas for new content, each more daring than the last. The persona she had created was a siren's call, drawing her further into a world where she was in complete control of her own desires and the desires of others.

In the dim light of her penthouse, surrounded by the trappings of her celebrity life, Gaeul felt a sense of freedom she hadn't experienced in years. The mask she had worn for so long had been shattered, revealing the woman beneath, and she liked what she saw. The feedback from her subscribers was a balm to her soul, a validation of her sexuality that she had been craving for so long.

And so, she continued to upload, each video and photo more explicit than the last. She lost herself in the role, becoming the slut they all wanted her to be, the goddess of their darkest dreams. The comments grew bolder, more demanding, and she reveled in it. The thought of her fans jerking off to her was a thrill that never waned, a reminder of the power she held in her slender fingers.

The more she posted, the more she realized that she was not just playing a role; she was rediscovering herself. The shy, insecure girl who had been molded into a star was giving way to a woman who knew what she wanted and was unafraid to take it. Her OnlyFans was a declaration of independence, a middle finger to the industry that had tried to control her every move.

But amidst the pleasure, there was always the fear. The fear of being found out, the fear of losing everything she had worked so hard for. Yet, she couldn't deny the thrill it brought her. Each time she posted, she felt like she was playing with fire, and she liked the burn.

As the weeks turned into months, Gaeul's account grew in popularity. Her subscribers were devoted, showering her with praise and money.

One evening, she found herself staring at a blank screen, her mind racing. The thrill of the new had worn off, and she was desperate for something that would set her apart from the sea of other creators. Inspiration struck her like a bolt of lightning. "Y/n," she whispered into the phone, her voice a seductive purr. "I need content for my OnlyFans. Let's do something wild... like public sex."

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. The excitement of the potential risk and the thrill of the forbidden had your blood racing. "Are you sure?" you asked, playing it cool despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Yes," she said, the determination in her voice unmistakable. "We're going to do it. And it's going to be amazing."

The adrenaline was palpable as you picked her up in your sleek black sports car, the engine purring beneath you like a living beast. The city lights reflected off the windows, creating a dazzling array of color that bled into the dark leather of the seats.

As Gaeul stepped inside, you watched with anticipation as she slipped off her top and unclipped her bra, the fabric sliding off her shoulders like a lover's caress. She was a vision in the soft glow of the car's interior lights, her small breasts bouncing gently as she complied with your command. The oversized jacket was thrown over her shoulders, swamping her slender frame, a stark contrast to the tight dress she had worn to the club. She slid the vibrator into her wetness, the sound of it buzzing to life a symphony of excitement in the confined space.

"Now what is the plan?" Gaeul asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Let's go to the mall," you suggested, the excitement building in your voice. "We'll make a vlog in there."

Her eyes widened, a mix of surprise and arousal. "Really?" she whispered, her voice shaky with excitement. "That's so risky."

You chuckled, reaching over to stroke her thigh. "Isn't that part of the fun?" You pressed a button on the vibrator's controller, and she gasped as it buzzed to life against her clit. She nodded, her breath hitching as you began to drive, navigating the streets of Seoul with one hand while the other played with the intensity of the vibrations.

The drive to the mall was a delicious mix of anticipation and pleasure. With every stop light, you increased the power, watching her squirm in her seat. Her eyes darted around, searching for any signs of recognition, but the streets were mostly empty, the only witnesses the occasional neon signs flickering to life in the night.

"You're going to make me cum before we even get there," she murmured, her voice tight with need. Her hand rested on your thigh, her nails digging in as the vibrations grew more intense.

"That's the plan," you said, your eyes never leaving the road. You had to admit, the thrill of it all was making it harder to focus on driving, but you weren't about to let that ruin the moment. You took a deep breath and concentrated on the task at hand, both literally and figuratively.

When you finally pulled into the mall's parking lot, you killed the engine and turned to her. "Ready?"

Gaeul nodded, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she took the mini camera from the center console. She attached it to your button shirt, making sure it was angled down to capture everything. The anticipation was like a living thing in the car, pulsing with every heartbeat.

You stepped out of the car, her hand in yours, the vibrator still nestled between her legs. The mall's bright lights washed over you both as you walked towards the entrance, her hips swaying slightly with each step. The thrill of what you were about to do made your heart race. Gaeul's hand was in your pocket, the vibrator's controller hidden from view as she expertly manipulated the settings, keeping her on the edge of ecstasy.

The mall was bustling with life, shoppers milling about with bags in hand, the sound of laughter and music filling the air. Despite the chaos, Gaeul's eyes never left yours. She leaned into you, her breath hot against your ear. "Keep going," she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper. The vibrator's intensity grew, and she stifled a moan, her knees threatening to buckle.

You led her through the crowded corridors, her hand tightening around yours as you passed by a group of teenagers, their heads swiveling to catch a glimpse of the famous idol. They had no idea what she was hiding beneath the oversized jacket, her pussy singing a silent symphony of pleasure with every step she took. You felt a rush of power, knowing that you had her right where you wanted her.

The camera captured everything, the secret life of a kpop star laid bare for the eyes of her devoted fans. She was both Gaeul the idol and 'like kim gaeul' the slut, and the dichotomy was intoxicating. You stopped in front of a lingerie store, the mannequins in the window dressed in lacy garments that made you think of her.

With a grin, you whispered, "Pick something out. Something that makes you feel like a slut." She blushed but didn't hesitate, her hand moving to the controller to reduce the intensity just enough to regain control. She stepped away, the vibrator still humming against her clit, as she scanned the racks of underwear.

You watched as she chose a black lace set, her eyes never leaving yours. The vibrator was a constant reminder of what was to come, a silent promise of pleasure that had her moving with a sensual grace that drew the attention of those around her. As she stepped into the changing room, you couldn't resist the urge to join her, the camera rolling as you closed the door behind you.

The small space was filled with the scent of new fabric and arousal as you both shed your clothes. She stepped into the lingerie, her body a canvas of desire. You took the camera and captured every moment, her skin glowing in the fluorescent light.

The vibrator was forgotten for a moment as you kissed, your hands roaming over her body, reacquainting themselves with every curve and dip. But soon enough, the need for more took over, and she slipped the panties to the side, exposing herself to the cool air. You took the controller and cranked it up, watching as her body responded, her eyes rolling back in pleasure.

The mall outside was oblivious to the erotic scene unfolding in the cramped changing room, the camera capturing every gasp and shiver. The sound of fabric rustling and the low murmur of shoppers' conversations were a stark contrast to the symphony of moans that filled the space.

As the vibrator brought her to the brink, you whispered, "Do it, baby. Cum for them." And with a scream that was muffled by your hand, she did, her body convulsing as the orgasm crashed over her. The camera kept rolling, capturing the moment of pure, unadulterated bliss that she had never allowed herself to feel before.

You both stepped out of the changing room, her face flushed, her eyes sparkling with the aftermath of her climax. The vibrator was tucked away, the secret of her pleasure safely hidden. The thrill of what had just transpired had her moving with an extra sway in her hips, a silent announcement to the world of what she had just done.

You led her through the mall, the vibrator's buzz a constant reminder of your shared power play. She bit her lip to stifle the moans that threatened to escape, her eyes darting around nervously. Each time you stopped to browse or chat with fans, she had to fight the urge to lean into you, to beg for more.

The feeling of the vibrator against her clit as you walked through the crowded mall was a delicious form of torture. Each step was a battle between maintaining her composure and succumbing to the pleasure that threatened to consume her. Her breath grew shallower, her eyes glassy with need as the minutes ticked by. The shoppers around her had no idea that their favorite idol was being brought to the edge of ecstasy right beside them.

You couldn't resist the urge to push her further. You whispered in her ear, "Keep walking, baby. Just a little longer." Each word was a challenge, a promise of more to come. The vibrator remained nestled between her legs, the humming a constant presence that had her legs trembling.

Gaeul managed to keep it together, though just barely. The feeling of you in control, of her body responding so viscerally to your commands, was a heady mix of fear and desire. She walked with you, her hand in yours, her body a live wire of pleasure.

Her steps grew more erratic as the vibrator continued to pulse against her, and you could see the struggle in her eyes. The mall's lights played across her flushed skin, casting shadows that only served to highlight her arousal. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, her eyes darting around as if searching for an escape from the relentless wave of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her.

As you stepped out into the cool night air, Gaeul's grip on your hand tightened, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. "I can't... I can't take it anymore," she whimpered, her voice strained with need.

"Just hold it," you murmured into her ear, your voice a seductive rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "200 meters to the left is our car. Think about the rush when we finally get there."

Her eyes widened with a mix of terror and excitement, but she nodded. The vibrator was a persistent reminder of the thrill you were both chasing. You continued your leisurely stroll through the parking lot, Gaeul's hand in yours, the camera capturing every step she took.

As you approached the halfway point, Gaeul's resolve crumbled. With a gasp, she pulled away, her jacket and panties pooling at her ankles. The cold concrete met her bare skin, sending goosebumps racing across her body. She didn't care about the stares or the whispers, all she could focus on was the pulsing need between her legs. The vibrator slipped out of her and she stepped away from you, her hands moving to her clit.

"Oh fuck," she moaned, her legs shaking as the first spurt of pleasure shot through her. The vibrator lay forgotten on the ground as she squirted, her juices painting an abstract pattern on the pavement. The sight of her, standing there in the open, unabashedly claiming her sexuality was more than you could handle. Your cock throbbed in your pants, begging for release.

With a primal growl, you swooped her up into your arms, carrying her like a bride across the threshold. She wrapped her legs around your waist, her naked body pressed against yours, her pussy still quivering from the aftershocks of her orgasm. The cool night air kissed her skin, sending shivers down her spine that only served to heighten her arousal.

When you reached the car, you set her down gently, the anticipation thick between you. Her eyes locked onto the prize, the thick, throbbing cock that had brought her so much pleasure already that night. Without a word, she knelt before you, her hands trembling as she gripped your shaft firmly.

The cool air of the parking lot caressed her bare skin as she took you in her mouth, her eyes never leaving yours. The feel of her warm, wet mouth around you was almost too much to bear, but you held back, enjoying the show of power she had become so adept at giving. The vibrations from her pussy had made her desperate for release, and now she was eager to return the favor.

Her mouth worked you with the skill of a pro, her tongue dancing around the head, teasing the slit before taking you deep. You could feel her eagerness, her hunger for your pleasure a mirror to your own. The camera captured it all, the look of pure need on her face, the way her eyes watered as she took you deeper.

Her hands moved to your ass, her nails digging in as she worked you faster, her own orgasm still a fresh memory. You watched as she swallowed around you, her cheeks hollowing with each bob of her head. The sight was too much, and with a roar, you came, spilling your seed down her throat. She took it all, her eyes never leaving yours, a silent declaration of victory in her gaze.

You helped her to her feet, her legs wobbly from the intense climax. She leaned into you, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. Behind the car, hidden from view, you didn't hold back as you kissed her deeply, tasting yourself on her lips. The adrenaline from the public display had you both on edge, your bodies craving more.

Without a word, you turned her around and bent her over the trunk, her ass in the air. The vibrator was forgotten, replaced by the need for the real thing. You lined up with her wet entrance, her moan muffled by your hand as you slammed into her. She was tight, a perfect fit around you, her pussy clenching as you began to pound into her.

The sound of your skin slapping against hers echoed through the quiet parking lot, a rhythm that grew louder with each thrust. Gaeul's eyes rolled back in pleasure, her body moving with yours in a dance that was both fierce and beautiful. The fear of being caught only added to the excitement, each grunt and gasp a silent chant of "fuck yes" that seemed to resonate through the night.

Her moans grew louder, her body begging for release. You knew she was close, could feel it in the way her pussy gripped you like a vise. With one hand, you reached around, finding her clit and pinching it hard. She came with a scream that you muffled with your hand, her body shaking violently as the orgasm ripped through her. You followed suit, your own climax a hot wave that left you weak in the knees.

You both stood there for a moment, panting, the cold metal of the car cool against your skin. The thrill of the moment had etched itself into your bones, a memory that would fuel your fantasies for weeks to come. The camera had captured it all, a testament to your wild night of rebellion and desire.

With a final, lingering kiss, you pulled away and helped her into the car. The drive to her penthouse was filled with a mix of excitement and exhaustion. You watched her in the rearview mirror, her eyes heavy with satisfaction, the glow of the city lights reflecting off her sweat-slicked skin. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her transformation, from a shy idol to a sexual goddess claiming what she wanted without fear.

When you finally pulled up to her building, she took one last look at you before exiting the car, the oversized jacket still hanging loosely around her. She leaned in through the window, her eyes shining with a mix of gratitude and mischief. "Thank you for an amazing night," she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.

You watched her retreating figure as she sashayed towards the elevator, her hips still swaying with the aftermath of the intense public encounter. The thrill of it all was like a drug, leaving you craving more. As the elevator doors closed, you couldn't help but wonder what the next chapter in this secret life would hold.

Once back in her penthouse, Gaeul wasted no time in editing the video you had just shot. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her laptop open before her, her eyes glued to the screen. The sight of herself on the screen, her face contorted with pleasure, had her panties growing damp again. She felt a twinge of guilt for enjoying the objectification, but it was quickly drowned out by the rush of power and excitement it brought her.

Her nimble fingers flew across the keyboard, snipping and arranging the footage with a finesse that belied her inexperience. Each edit brought her closer to the climax she had experienced in the mall, her body responding to the visual cues she had so meticulously captured. She watched her own face, the desperation in her eyes as she came in the changing room, and her breath caught in her throat.

The video was a masterpiece of desire and rebellion, a testament to the woman she had become. Each frame was a declaration of her sexual prowess, a stark contrast to the innocent girl-next-door image her fans adored. Her heart raced as she added a seductive soundtrack, the bass thumping through her chest like a heartbeat.

Her hand slipped between her legs, her pussy already wet and aching for release. She watched herself take your cock in her mouth, her own mouth watering at the sight. The vibrator she had used earlier was forgotten in the bedroom, but she didn't need it now. Her mind was the best toy she had, replaying the sensations of the night as she touched herself.

Her strokes grew faster as she watched herself get fucked against the car, her orgasm building like a crescendo. The video was almost done, and she knew it would be a hit on her OnlyFans. The thought of her fans jerking off to her most intimate moments had her on edge, her clit swollen and begging for attention.

As she reached the climax of her editing, her own climax hit her like a wave, crashing over her body and leaving her trembling. She stared at the screen, her chest heaving, the video now a perfect representation of the raw, unbridled lust that had taken her over.

With a satisfied smile, she hit 'publish', sending the video into the abyss of the internet. The anticipation was almost as sweet as the act itself. She knew the response would be intense, the comments and messages flooding in like a storm of validation.

For a moment, she just sat there, basking in the glow of her own rebellious spirit. The line between Gaeul the idol and 'like kim gaeul' had blurred, but in that blur, she had found a sense of freedom she had never known before. She took a deep breath and leaned back, her body sated and her mind racing with ideas for the next wild adventure.

As the video spread through the depths of the internet like wildfire, the comments section grew more and more frenzied. Fans speculated, their imaginations running wild. Some posted gifs of her shocked expressions from music videos, others wrote feverishly about their newfound love for her 'naughty' side. The anonymity of the platform allowed them to express their darkest desires, and she reveled in every word.

One comment caught her eye, though. It was from an account with a profile picture that was eerily similar to one of her backup dancers. 'If real gaeul watching this...' it read, followed by a series of emojis that could only be interpreted as shock and arousal. Her heart skipped a beat as she wondered if it was him, if he knew her secret. But she pushed the thought aside. Tonight was about her, about the power she held in the palm of her hand, quite literally.

The next day, the buzz had reached a fever pitch. Her video had become the talk of the town, the whispers of "Did you see?" echoing through the hallways of the entertainment company she worked for. She walked with her head held high, her secret identity like a secret weapon she could unleash at any moment. The thrill of potentially being recognized, of the world knowing what she had done, was a potent aphrodisiac.

The fear of being caught was a thrill she hadn't anticipated. Each time she saw a group of people huddled around a phone, her heart raced. But she was careful, always one step ahead. The persona of 'like kim gaeul' was a double-edged sword, one that could both elevate and destroy her career. But for now, she reveled in the power it gave her.

Her interactions with fans grew more intense, their gazes lingering just a moment too long. They knew something had changed about her, could feel the electricity in the air when she walked by. The whispers grew louder, the glances more knowing. And she loved it. She was no longer just a pretty face on a poster, she was a force to be reckoned with.

But amidst the chaos, she found a strange comfort in the arms of Y/N. He was her rock, her confidant in this new world of secret lust and public adoration. The bond between them had grown stronger with each shared secret, each intimate moment captured for their private pleasure.

Their relationship had evolved beyond the physical, into something deeper, more profound. They had become co-conspirators in a game of desire played out for the world to see, yet only they knew the rules. The thought of him watching the video, his eyes dark with need, had her squirming in her seat.

Gaeul knew she had to tread carefully. The line between her two worlds was precariously thin, and one wrong move could shatter the illusion. But she was addicted to the rush, the thrill of the unknown. And as she scrolled through the endless stream of comments, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, of accomplishment. She had done what no other idol dared, and she had done it with style.

The story of 'like kim gaeul' was just beginning, and she was ready to write the next chapter. Whether it was in the safety of her penthouse or in the shadowed corners of the city, she was going to claim what was hers. Her heart pounded in her chest as she thought of the possibilities, the thrills and dangers that awaited her. But she knew she wasn't alone. With Y/N by her side, she could conquer the world. Or at least, the internet.

#kpop smut #male reader #girl group smut #ive smut #gaeul smut #kim gaeul #gg smut

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the-returnofartemis · 2 months ago

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THE TENTH HOUSE: ANSWERING THE CALL TO WEALTH

the 10th house (10H) is arguably one of the most important houses in astrology, closely tied to your midheaven (MC), which represents your public image, reputation, and the way you are recognized in the world. it symbolizes your legacy, the energy others associate with you, and the role you naturally embody in society. however, understanding your career path goes beyond than just identifying the sign in your 10th house. to gain a deeper insight, you should also analyze its planetary ruler and the house it occupies, as these factors will give you a better idea about the careers that align with your natural strengths.

below is a guide shared by astrokit, along with some additional insights i’ve added, highlighting careers based on planetary placements in the 10th house, as well as the house placements of its planetary ruler, to help you align with your destined career path!

➶ ➴ if you follow vedic astrology, I recommend analyzing the 10H in the navamsha (D9) and dashamsha (D10) charts alongside the 10H in the rashi (D1) chart. combining insights from all three, along with the nakshatra ruler of the 10H will give a more well-rounded understanding of the career best suited for you.

CAREERS BY PLANETS IN THE 10H

sun: leadership, authority, government, politician, fame, boss, CEO

moon: women, hospitality, nursing, children, restaurants, commerce, mass media, public relations, travel

mercury: media, writer, communications, teacher, editor, author, transportation, craftsmanship, marketing

venus: arts, music, beauty, luxury, jeweler, entertainment, tourism, hotel management, design, graphics, fashion

mars: fitness, sports, entrepreneur, law enforcement, surgeon, doctor, engineer, military, sculptor, carpenter, cook

jupiter: law, teaching, travel, advertising, education, charity

saturn: organizations, metal industry, agriculture, service, labor, construction

north node (rahu): internet, entertainment, pharmaceuticals, research, engineer, innovation, electricity, sales, photography

south node (ketu): religion, spirituality, metaphysics, renunciation, research, charity, astrology, diviniation

uranus: science, electronics, internet, astrology, innovation, inventions, technology, crypto

pluto: research, insurance, surveillance, risk-management, death, investigator

neptune: photographer, movies, entertainment, drugs, poetry, music, liquids, alcohol

CAREERS BY THE 10H RULING PLANET THROUGH THE HOUSES

1H: self-employment, brand ambassador, entrepreneur

2H: banking, finance, investments, assets, consulting, teaching, writing, restaurants, speaking, vocals, dentistry, property, family legacy

3H: communication, marketing, social media, sales, writing, publishing, advertising, blogging, media, authorship, teaching (early education)

4H: asset management, real estate, vehicles, water, family, women, hospitality

5H: movies, films, glamour, stockbroker, education, authority, fame, children, romance, dating, hobbies

6H: health, service, law, labor, food, waiters, doctors, crime, justice, litigation

7H: law, business, commerce, exchange, consulting, public relations, marriage, therapist, designer, interior design, wedding industry, event planning, counselors

8H: insurance, social work, psychology, sex industry, occult, security, espionage, surveillance, taxes, death industry, divorce, research

9H: teaching (university), travel industry, hospitality, law, religion, foreign exchange, wedding industry, event planning

10H: leadership, government, politics, manager, CEO, presidency, public figure

11H: finance, networking, social media, acting, entertainment industry, parties/event planning

12H: charity, social work, hospitals, prisons, travel, foreign lands, mental health industry, artist, musician, import/export

if you’ve made it this far, i hope you enjoyed this little corner of my world. thank you for reading and please feel free to share your thoughts! always remember to love yourself as if it’s your greatest romance.

the pictures featured in this post are from pinterest.

until next time,

artemis x

#astro observations #astrology #astro community #vedic astrology #astro notes #astrology signs #astrology tumblr #rahu ketu #vedic astro observations #vedic astro notes #astroblr #astro placements #astrology blog #birth chart #astrology readings

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fayelero · 3 months ago

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— WILDFLOWER ! timeskip!atsumu

➥ pr : timeskip!atsumu x famous!fem!reader

➥ syn : after a tough argument with your boyfriend, you got in a car accident…

➥ wc : 3.1k

➥ tw : tough argument, car accident, injured reader, angst to comfort, crying reader, y/n employed a lil.

➥ a/n : trauma era ! (it’s weird I’ll stop)

The lights of Shibuya sparkled like they always did—a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of neon advertisements flashing bright against the obsidian night sky, painting the urban landscape in vibrant, electric hues of pink, cerulean, and electric blue. Massive screens flickered with advertisements, music videos, and breaking news, casting their ever-changing glow across the bustling streets below. But high above the cacophony of the city, inside the sleek, minimalist luxury penthouse that had once been their sanctuary, the air was thick with a different kind of electricity—raw, crackling tension that threatened to consume everything in its path.

The once warm and welcoming space now felt cold, almost suffocating. Gone were the soft throw pillows carefully arranged by interior designers, the artful photography capturing moments of their shared past, the subtle scent of sandalwood that typically permeated the air. Now, there was only silence punctuated by ragged breathing and the distant hum of Tokyo's nightlife.

Atsumu stood by the kitchen counter, a study in controlled fury. His muscular frame was tense, arms crossed over his chest, revealing the definition of years of professional volleyball training. His brow was furrowed, a familiar competitive edge that usually served him on the court now turned inward, sharp and dangerous. His blonde hair, usually meticulously styled, was slightly disheveled—a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil brewing inside him.

You were on the opposite side of the room, pacing back and forth. Your designer heels—Louboutins, a gift from a recent magazine shoot—clacked against the pristine marble floor in a staccato rhythm that matched the racing of your heart. Each step was a statement, a declaration of your growing frustration.

The penthouse, situated in one of Shibuya's most exclusive high-rises, had always been a symbol of your collective success. But tonight, it felt more like a pressure cooker, ready to explode under the weight of unspoken resentments and mounting professional tensions.

"I'm so sick of this, Atsumu!" you screamed, your voice a complex mixture of rage and profound hurt. Tears streamed down your face, tracing perfect lines through your meticulously applied makeup. Your hands, adorned with delicate rings from your latest endorsement deals, gestured wildly, punctuating each word with raw emotion. "You're never here! Never! And when you are, all we do is fight. I've spent the last five years supporting you, loving you, waiting for you—while I'm out there building my own damn career!"

The vulnerability beneath your anger was palpable. These weren't just the words of a frustrated partner, but of someone who had consistently placed another's dreams ahead of their own, only to feel increasingly marginalized and forgotten.

Atsumu's response was immediate, defensive—a reflex honed from years of facing down opponents on the volleyball court. "And what? You expect me to just drop everything?!" His voice was louder than you'd ever heard it before, a mixture of Osaka dialect and raw emotion. "You think bein' a professional volleyball player is just fun and games? That it doesn't take everythin' I have to stay at the top?"

His words were defensive, but underneath lay a deep-seated insecurity. The volleyball world was unforgiving, with careers that could end in an instant. Every moment not training, not preparing, felt like a potential threat to everything he had worked for.

"That's not what I'm saying!" you yelled back, your voice cracking with a complexity of emotions. As you wiped furiously at your cheeks, the carefully constructed persona of the confident model and actress momentarily dissolved, revealing the deeply wounded individual beneath. "But it's like I don't exist to you anymore, Atsumu! It's like I'm just a damn afterthought!"

You paused, inhaling sharply, gathering the last reserves of your emotional ammunition. When you spoke again, your words were calculated, designed to wound. "You know what? Maybe you love volleyball more than you ever loved me."

The silence that followed was deafening.

The sting in your words was palpable—a razor-sharp blade that cut through the carefully constructed facade of their relationship. In Atsumu's eyes, you could see a storm brewing. His pupils dilated, the golden-brown irises darkening with a mixture of hurt, anger, and something deeper—a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show.

His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching near his temple—a tell-tale sign of his rising frustration. The fists at his sides tightened, knuckles turning white, betraying the athletic control he typically maintained with such precision. Years of professional volleyball had taught him to channel emotions, to convert raw feeling into explosive physical energy. But here, in the intimate battlefield of their home, those skills failed him completely.

"Don't even start with that crap," he spat, his voice dripping with venom that was more pain than malice. The Osaka dialect grew thicker, a subconscious retreat into his most authentic self—the version of Atsumu that existed before the fame, before the pressure, before the constant performance of being a professional athlete. "You're the one out there posin' half-naked for the world to see! You don't even care about what that does to me, do ya? Every single time I see your face plastered all over those magazines, I'm reminded of how everyone else gets to see what's supposed to be mine!"

The words hung in the air, loaded with possessiveness, insecurity, and a deep-seated fear of loss.

You froze, his words slicing through you like a knife. The transformation was immediate—from emotional vulnerability to razor-sharp defensive mode. "Excuse me?" you said, voice dangerously low, each syllable carefully enunciated. The model's training kicked in—controlled, precise, devastating. "What's supposed to be yours? Atsumu, I'm not some possession you can just claim. I've worked my ass off to get where I am. And if you can't handle my success, that's on you—not me."

Your career hadn't been a gift. It had been a battlefield of its own—endless castings, brutal rejections, critical eyes dissecting every inch of your appearance, your talent, your worth. Each magazine cover, each commercial, each film role had been hard-won, purchased with countless sleepless nights and moments of self-doubt.

"Oh, so now I'm the bad guy?" he shot back, his voice heavy with sarcasm that barely concealed his hurt. "Yeah, sure. Poor you. The perfect little model and actress who gets everything handed to her on a silver platter. Do ya even realize how lucky you are?"

The accusation hung between them—a gross oversimplification of a complex journey.

Your mouth fell open, shock mixing with the anger that burned in your chest like an uncontrollable wildfire. "Lucky?" you repeated, the word dripping with disbelief and mounting fury. You took a step closer to him, closing the physical distance between you, your presence electric and challenging. "You think my career is easy? That I haven't sacrificed just as much as you have?"

The vulnerability returned, raw and unfiltered. "You have no idea what it's like to have your entire life picked apart by strangers, to have people constantly criticize you, to feel like you're never enough no matter how hard you try!"

In that moment, the fight transformed. It was no longer just about time, or absence, or professional demands. It was about two individuals drowning in the expectations of their careers, of society, of each other—desperately trying to maintain their individual identities while simultaneously trying to maintain a relationship.

The room fell silent, heavy with unsaid things. The city continued its relentless pulse outside, indifferent to the emotional storm raging within the penthouse. Neon lights continued to dance across the windows, a stark contrast to the stillness inside.

"I can't do this anymore," you whispered, the fight suddenly draining out of you. Your voice was soft, but filled with a finality that seemed to reverberate through the entire space. Shaking your head, you grabbed your designer handbag—a Chanel piece that had been a hard-earned gift by Atsumu after a particularly challenging campaign.

"Where the hell do ya think you're goin'?" Atsumu barked, his voice rising again, a last-ditch attempt to maintain control of a situation rapidly slipping away.

"Anywhere but here," you snapped, your hand already reaching for the Porsche keys in the decorative bowl by the door. The keys clinked against each other, a metallic punctuation to your decision. "I can't even stand to look at you right now."

Before he could respond—before he could plead, argue, or attempt to reconcile—you slammed the door. The sound reverberated through the penthouse, a final, definitive statement that seemed to echo the fracturing of something once believed to be unbreakable.

—

Travis Scott's "SICKO MODE" blasted at maximum volume, the bass so loud it seemed to vibrate through your very bones. The irony wasn't lost on you—a song about chaos and intensity perfectly matching the emotional storm raging inside your mind. The lyrics seemed to mock your pain, each beat a punctuation to your spiraling thoughts.

The words rang out, and you laughed—a broken, hysterical sound that was more sob than anything else.

"I'm so fucking useless," you whispered to yourself, the words barely audible over the thundering music. Tears streamed down your face, cutting perfect lines through your carefully applied makeup. "Nobody could ever really love me. Not Atsumu. Not anyone."

The streets of Tokyo blurred past, your Porsche cutting through the night like a silver blade of desperation. Every word from the fight replayed in your mind with merciless precision. Atsumu's accusations echoed like razor-sharp whispers, each one cutting deeper than the last.

"You don't even care about me anymore," his voice rang in your ears. "You'd rather show off for strangers than even try to make this work."

The music swelled, Travis Scott's voice a backdrop to your internal breakdown.

"I'm nothing," you muttered, your grip on the steering wheel so tight your knuckles turned white. "Just a pretty face. Just something to look at. Never enough to be truly loved." The words were a mantra of self-destruction, each one landing like a physical blow.

Your mind was a tempest of emotions—guilt, rage, self-hatred swirling together in a hurricane of pain. The city lights streaked past like watercolor brushstrokes, Tokyo's infamous neon landscape becoming an impressionistic canvas of blues, pinks, and electric whites.

You pushed the Porsche faster, as if speed could outrun the pain, could silence the voices in your head. The powerful engine roared beneath you, a mechanical beast responding to your emotional turmoil. At 180 kilometers per hour, the world outside became an indistinct smear, much like your sense of self—undefined, chaotic, on the verge of complete disintegration.

The irony of the lyrics wasn't lost on you. Ideas of worthlessness, of being unlovable, of being nothing more than a commodity—they filled your mind completely.

The intersection approached—a critical point of convergence that would change everything in a heartbeat.

The sharp, piercing sound of a car horn sliced through the music. A moment of stark clarity emerged, milliseconds stretching into an eternity. Your head turned, eyes widening as massive headlights barreled toward you, bright and unforgiving.

Travis Scott's voice was the last thing you heard.

The impact was sudden. Violent. Apocalyptic.

Metal screamed against metal, a cacophonous symphony of destruction that mixed with the final echoes of the song. Your Porsche—a machine engineered for precision and speed—was reduced to a crumpled sculpture of twisted metal and shattered dreams. The collision flung the car across the intersection with a force that defied physics, spinning and tumbling like a discarded thought.

And then, silence.

Smoke billowed from the crumpled hood, rising like a spectral mourner above the wreckage. The music cut off abruptly, leaving behind a ringing silence that seemed to echo your final, unspoken thoughts.

"Atsu…," you whispered, as darkness began to creep in.

The city continued its relentless pulse, indifferent to the personal tragedy that had just unfolded on its streets. Neon lights flickered, a final, distant reminder of a life that now seemed impossibly far away.

—

The phone's shrill ring cut through the silence of the penthouse. Atsumu, still frozen in the aftermath of your departure, instinctively reached for his mobile. The caller ID displayed the hospital's number—a sight that immediately sent a jolt of adrenaline through his system.

"Hello?," he answered, his voice raw from their earlier argument.

The words that followed would forever divide his life into two distinct periods: before and after this moment.

"Sakusa Kei Memorial Hospital," the voice said. "We're calling about a patient involved in a severe traffic collision. Are you the emergency contact for y/n?"

Time seemed to stop.

The next hours passed in a blur of sterile white corridors, the acrid smell of disinfectant, and the constant beeping of medical equipment. Atsumu's athletic composure—usually so precise, so controlled—completely dissolved. His hands shook as he filled out medical forms, his usually confident Osaka dialect reduced to fragmented, desperate whispers.

The hospital room was quieter than Atsumu had expected, save for the soft hum of machines monitoring your vitals. The sterile scent of disinfectant lingered in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of his fear as he stepped inside. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, lying amidst a sea of white linens and medical equipment. The sight nearly brought him to his knees.

Your body looked so small, so fragile against the stark hospital bed. Bruises bloomed across your exposed skin like shadows of the argument that had led you here. A cast encased your left leg, another your arm, and your face was marred with small cuts and swelling that no makeup could disguise. But your eyes—their familiar light dimmed but not extinguished—opened slowly at the sound of his approach.

“Atsumu,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, a fragile thread that tugged at his heart.

He froze mid-step, his athletic frame tense, as though moving too quickly might shatter what little remained of you. Tears, warm and unwelcome, blurred his vision as he stumbled forward, his legs carrying him to your side.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. His hand hovered over yours, afraid to touch, afraid of breaking you further. “God, I’m so sorry, darlin’. This is all my fault.”

You blinked slowly, the exhaustion from the accident and the aftermath evident in every line of your body. For a moment, you said nothing, letting his words settle into the quiet. Then, with more strength than he thought you could muster, you managed, “Don’t… do that.”

Atsumu’s brows furrowed in confusion, guilt momentarily eclipsed by the sharpness of your tone, fragile though it was. “Do what?” he asked softly, his voice a broken echo of its usual bravado.

“Don’t you dare make this about you,” you replied, your voice gaining a sliver of its familiar fire. “This isn’t your fault, Atsumu. I was the one driving. I was the one who left.”

The tears he had tried so hard to control now fell freely, streaking down his face as he shook his head vehemently. “But ya wouldn’t have been drivin’ like that if it weren’t for me,” he countered, his Osaka dialect thick with emotion. “If I hadn’t been such an idiot—if I hadn’t said those awful things—ya wouldn’t have been out there at all.”

You exhaled slowly, the weight of his guilt palpable in the room. “And if I’d listened to you instead of trying to win the argument… maybe I wouldn’t have stormed out,” you admitted, your tone soft but unwavering. “We were both wrong, Atsumu. Both of us.”

The admission seemed to strike him harder than any spike he’d ever taken on the court. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at you as though you were some ethereal being he’d never quite been worthy of. Then, with a quiet exhale, he sank into the chair beside your bed, his head dropping into his hands.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he muttered, his voice muffled but no less raw. “I thought I lost ya. When they called me and said you’d been in a crash…” His voice cracked, and he lifted his head, his golden-brown eyes now rimmed red with unshed tears. “I’ve never been that scared in my life.”

You reached for him, wincing as your arm protested the movement. Despite the pain, you managed to place your uninjured hand over his. The contact was light, hesitant, but it was enough to anchor both of you. “I’m here, Atsumu,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the ache in your body. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, as though he was fighting against every emotion threatening to spill out. Slowly, his hand turned under yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a gesture that was both tender and desperate. “I’ve been such a damn fool,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on your intertwined hands. “I’ve been so caught up in everythin’—the games, the pressure, provin’ myself—that I forgot… I forgot what really matters.”

Your chest tightened at the vulnerability in his voice, at the sight of the man you loved stripped down to his very core. “You matter to me, Atsumu,” you said, your tone firm despite the weakness in your body. “But I need to matter to you, too. Not as an afterthought. Not as something you’ll get to when volleyball isn’t in the way.”

He nodded slowly, his grip on your hand tightening as though he was afraid to let go. “You do,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “You matter more than anythin’. More than volleyball, more than any championship, more than everythin’ I’ve ever worked for. I just… I didn’t know how to show ya that without feelin’ like I was givin’ somethin’ up. But I see it now. I see you now.”

A single tear escaped down your cheek, and you squeezed his hand gently. “Then show me, Atsumu,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper but carrying the weight of everything left unsaid. “Be here with me. Don’t just tell me—show me.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy but not oppressive, a quiet understanding passing between you as the city lights outside cast shifting patterns on the walls. Finally, Atsumu leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your knuckles—a gesture so soft, so reverent, that it nearly undid you.

“I will,” he promised, his lips brushing against your skin with each word. “I’ll show ya. Every day, every damn moment. I’m gonna make this right, darlin’. I swear it.”

The weight of his words settled into your chest, warm and grounding.

The hospital room was still, the hum of machines and the distant sounds of the city your only company. But in that stillness, amidst the aftermath of chaos and pain, the first fragile threads of healing began to weave themselves through the fractures of your relationship.

For the first time in a long time, you believed him.

tag : @haechansbbg

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vmantras · 5 months ago

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Mini Countryman EV: Performance and Features Explained

₹54.9 Lakh The Mini Countryman EV is an all-electric premium SUV that extends the brand’s iconic charm into the eco-conscious automotive space. Designed for urban and suburban adventures, it offers a balance of style, performance, luxury, and advanced technology. Here’s a detailed breakdown: Exterior Design and Dimensions Classic Mini Aesthetic: The Mini Countryman EV retains the signature…

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luckykiwiii101 · 1 year ago

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What I Will Be Manifesting This Week :

What I will be manifesting this week:

- Desired Body (Revised)

- Always Waking Up In The Void State Aware

- That my 3D always conforms in under 48 hours

What Will I Be Doing?

- Embodying the state of having my desires.

- Fulfilling myself in imagination whenever I think of my desires.

- Fulfill through visualisation and inner conversations because that is what feels most natural to me.

What Will I Manifest In The Void State?

- Desired Face & Body but with some finishing touches. (doll - like, kind of like Karen smith from mean girls)

- Desired Height (5’7)

- Desired hair (doll - like)

- Desired Name (so elegant and pretty!)

- Desired Personality

- Desired voice (singing & speaking)

- Desired Vibe (90s Supermodel)

- Desired house (so luxurious)

- Desired room (Barbie x Gossip Girl themed)

- Desired Wardrobe (Blair Waldorf type outfits)

- iPhone 15 Pro + Desired Phone Case

- New Desired Biological Dad + New cousins & aunties etc to match

- Revising that my parents got married in Paris

- Rich Family

- All my family members are happy and have everything they want

- Privacy

- Pretty School Interior & Exterior

- Desired School Uniform

- My best friends to live on the same road as me and to have everything they want.

- Perfect mental and physical health for all my loved ones.

- Desired Career to start early (Supermodel for when i’m 17)

- Perfect Posture

- Perfect Eyesight

- Perfect Culinary & Baking Skills

- Fluency in French & Dutch

- Piano Prodigy + being able to play desired songs on it

- Good at playing electric guitar

- Changing Appearance of my family members

- Revising my family’s names

- Always knowing what to say

- Family celebrates holidays like Christmas & Halloween

- Revising my memories to align with my dream life

- Photographic & audiographic memory

- Perfect grades

- Whenever I listen to a song, it feels like listening to it for the first time again.

- Desired Items

- Immune from embarrassment + Revising that any past embarrassing moments never happened

- Life feels like the early 2010’s again

- Life feels like a Gossip Girl Episode (You know I had to XoXo 💋)

- Life feels like a barbie movie (like princess charm school or smthg idk)

- Looking like desired songs

- Can Choose To feel hot or cold

- airport and plane processes to be always extremely fun and quick for my family, friends and I

- Teen Wolf & The Originals to be put back on Netflix

- Season 3 of One Of Us Is Lying to come out

- Some cute things for my pets

- Always know what my pets want

- My whole family to have good taste in fashion

- Go on nice holidays every year

- Materialise something instantly by affirming for it x3

- Kind, Respectful & Secular Family

- Disgusting Roadman fashion in London to be stopped (ew if u saw that shizz)

- Fashion to go back to the 90s and early 2000s

- People At School Don’t annoy me

- High Spice Tolerance

- Always Wake Up Feeling Fresh & Energised

- Never late to school

- Desired ear piercings

- Scary Insects never come near me (especially spiders AAAAH!!!)

- I appreciate all aspects of life

- Never abuse my manifesting abilities

- Everything i manifest manifests 10x better than how i imagined

- Basically revising my whole entire life top to bottom

+ much more personal things

Things I Will Be Manifesting For The World:

- World Peace in all realities

- No wars in all realities

- Palestine being free in all realities

- World healing

- Healed society

- Righteous justice system

- No corrupt leaders

- No corrupt governments etc

- Healthcare everywhere is free

- People are good people

- People treat eachother with respect and kindness

Guys, I will definitely go into more depth when i actually materialise all these and post my success story. + Will probably post some picture proof of materialistic things in my home and outfits etc but not my face or anything personal like that.

I wrote everything i’m going to manifest on here because I know i’m not going to be bothered to type it all out when i’m actually living my dream life in the 3D 💀

Share what you guys will be manifesting and stick to your new story so we can all post our successes together!!!

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa blog #loa tumblr #loassumption #loablr #manifestation #loa #neville goddard #live in the end #living in the end #law of assumption blog #manifesting

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ghostwithateacup · 10 days ago

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Alright so if you follow me, you may know that I like speculating on video game world building (see my Octopath map post) and if you don't follow me... buckle up.

So, Fields of Mistria is a fantastical game, obviously. It has a loosely high medieval French aesthetic as many fairy tale settings do, and it isn't overly concerned with establishing a technological time frame in which the game is set. We can assume a lot of things are going to be inconsistent with our reality by virtue of the existence of magic and magical medicine, literal dragons, and animals of peculiar coloring. So, for example, although we know dyes exist, it's likely that they are far less of a luxury given sheep can be born just... purple. Like naturally they can just be purple.

However, there are still technological advancements that are necessary in spite of the existence of magic because actually harnessing magic does not seem to be a common ability. As such, we look to our first hint: plumbing. In the most recent update the game added the bathroom furniture set, which gives us a lot of hints as to the state of hygiene infrastructure within this small town of Mistria, crucially we find hints in the form of the toilet and bath furniture items.

Note, with this bath, that it is a standing bathtub with a likely porcelain interior and likely a brass tap and legs. There are several furniture items that would hint toward industrial manufacturing existing in this world of FoM, but this all but confirms it, because it also establishes not only the existence of indoor plumbing and comprehensive plumbing infrastructure, but crucially gives us a time frame based on the aesthetic of the tub: 19th century or later. Crucially, however, there's the toilet furniture item.

The existence of a toilet is hardly a surprise, but the existence of a crucial item is: the flushometer, (yes it's called that,) the small handle used to flush the toilet. This places us after 1908, when the device was invented, and likely later around the 1920s when the invention became widespread.

Where I first thought to look for further hints was crafting appliances, like the level 3 kitchen set and the oven in Nora/Dell/Holt's house.

unfortunately, there is little here to go off of that moves us forward in time much. These are likely gas stoves, which keeps us around the 1920s or 1930s, as by the 1940s electric stoves had become increasingly more widely used. They are likely partially electric, though, as we can assume at least basic levels of electricity exist in Mistria based on one little thing...

The Lampposts.

Given the fact no one in town has to manually light these, we can assume that electric lightbulbs do, in fact, exist in Mistria. However, it's unlikely it has been fully implemented given the existence of oil lamps like this one in Holt and Nora's room.

Additionally, the lack of electrical infrastructure leaves me hesitant to assume that substantial implementation of electricity yet exists, but it is still present to some degree in Mistria's world.

Interestingly, this leaves us at, well, not quite the technological time period I was expecting... the 1920s.

I fully expected, going into this that it would be somewhere around the 1940s or 50s, but I can find no evidence of the existence of computers existing to any meaningful degree. Nora has an abacus! So clearly, portable calculators don't exist; The cash register in the inn is crank-operated not motor-operated; and I could find zero examples of internal electricity in any of the houses I visited. The clothing people wear even seems to be made with a sewing machine, not mass-produced, which is unsurprising given most people seem to purchase clothes from the Saturday market.

So, there you go, if you need an easy time-frame to check the validity of a piece of technology existing in Mistria's world, check if it existed in the 1920s, because Mistria seems to exist in a very fantastical version of 1920 or 30s rural France.

If you have noticed anything I missed, do let me know, I'd love to be corrected on anything I may have gotten wrong here.

#fields of mistria #Ghost's ramblings #world building

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hd-junglebook · 1 year ago

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Falling For it

Part 4 - Word Count 2450

A.N: I'm not gonna lie this part had me keeping my feet in glee. I love this man.

Prev ... Next

The sleek, black sedan glided to a stop, pulling up behind her car in the driveway. Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through her veins.

Stepping out of the house, she smoothed down her outfit – a slim fitting pair of flared leggings and a number 86 jersey, her heart pounding as she prepared to meet him once again.

The chauffeur, a distinguished-looking man with a crisp uniform and a friendly smile, greeted her with a nod as he opened the door, ushering her into the warmth of the car.

“Miss y/n, after you.” Y/n smiled happily at the man, climbing into the backseat of the car. The soft hum of the engine provided a soothing backdrop to Y/N's racing thoughts as they began the drive to Newark.

Y/N settled into the plush leather seat of the car, she felt her phone buzz with a new message. With a quick glance at the screen, she saw Jack's name pop up. Y/n couldn't help but smile as she read his message. “Hey gorgeous, hope you're as excited for tonight as I am.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she typed out a response, her fingers hesitated over the keys while her thoughts raced as she tried to strike the right balance between interested but not desperate. After all, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much his words affected her.

With a soft sigh, she tucked her phone away, a faint blush staining her cheeks as she leaned back in her seat, now unable to look at his messages without grinning at her phone like a total doofus. This was going to be an interesting night, to say the least.

…

With a quick glance around to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything, Y/N stepped out of the car and into the crisp fall air, her breath forming delicate clouds in front of her.

The glow of the stadium lights illuminated the bustling crowds, casting long shadows across the pavement. Jack's chauffeur followed suit, quickening his pace, and holding open the door to the stadium as she stepped inside.

The interior of the stadium was a hive of activity, with fans milling about, the scent of pretzels and cheering fans filled the air. The red jerseys of the home team dotted the sea of humanity and filled her vision as the chauffeur expertly weaved through the throngs of people, expertly avoiding collisions and maintaining a steady pace.

Finally, they arrived—a secluded room overlooking the ice, complete with plush seating and a panoramic view of the game below. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her, her eyes widening in wonder at the sheer luxury of it all.

This was beyond anything she could have imagined, and yet here she was, about to watch the game from the best seat in the house.

As the game got underway, Y/N found herself captivated by the flurry of activity on the ice, her eyes darting back and forth as the players vied for control of the puck.

The sound of skates scraping against the ice and the thud of bodies checking into the boards filled the air, creating an electric atmosphere that seemed to pulse within her bones.

Y/N's gaze kept drifting back to one player in particular - the team's star forward, with his chiseled jawline and piercing blue eyes. He moved with a fluid grace, weaving in and out of defenders with ease and leaving a trail of admiring gazes in his wake.

She couldn't take her eyes off him, even as the action shifted to the other end of the ice. And when he finally scored the game-winning goal, she let out a triumphant cheer that echoed throughout the arena.

…

Y/n jumped as her phone buzzed in her pocket, the vibration startling her out of her pre-game visualization. She pulled it out, heart fluttering when she saw Jack's name on the screen.

New Message from Jack: Meet me outside in 5?

She squealed quietly to herself, bouncing a little in the privacy of the suite. Y/n smoothed down the front of her jersey, the Jersey Devils logo crinkling under her fingers. She'd been dying to see Jack since her arrival, thrill filled her as she realized she could finally be with him again.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n stood and checked herself in her phone camera. Her hair was still tamed in its neat bun, and a light sheen of lip gloss remained on her lips.

The arena was empty aside from her and security. Y/n grabbed her belongings, walking to door, and made her way down the hall towards the exit.

She found the doorway to the stairs and ascended quickly, pushing through the heavy metal door at the bottom.

A blast of crisp, late-autumn air hit her face as she emerged onto the sidewalk of the Prudential center. The hockey team was scattered in front the bus, their breath forming clouds as they waited for the head coach.

Y/n scanned the area, looking for that familiar mop of brown hair. An arm draped over her shoulder as she spoke with the other hockey players.

Y/n froze initially before recognizing Jack's familiar body wash. A laugh escaped her lips as she turned to look up at him, catching his warm blue eyes already gazing down at her with a smile.

"Well, well, if it isn't Jackie making his move," one of the guys called out with a laugh. The rest of the boys joined in, nudging each other as they laughed and whistled teasingly.

Jack just grinned and pulled Y/n a little closer against his chest. She could feel the firm muscle under his hoodie and tried to suppress the shiver that went through her. Get it together, Y/n, she told herself sternly.

"Alright, alright, let's load up!" the Coach bellowed, clapping his hands. The team started grabbing their gear bags and sticks, heading inside the idling bus. Jack kept his arm firmly around Y/n as he led her away.

"I've got a surprise for you," he said, voice low in her ear to be heard over the ruckus of the city.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as he caught her hand, tugging her away from the bus. She followed without a word as Jack led her towards a sleek black car in the far corner of the lot.

…

Jack opened the passenger door for y/n with a little flourish. "After you, m'lady." She couldn't help but giggle, shaking her head at his cheesy chivalry as she slid into the buttery soft leather seat.

The interior of Jack's car smelled like expensive new car - a mixture of leather and something vaguely metallic.

As Jack rounded the car to the driver's side, she took in the sleek lines and high-end finishes. She ran her fingers along the woodgrain trim, amazed at the luxury.

The driver's door opened and Jack folded his frame behind the wheel. He shot her a wink as he turned over the ignition, the car humming to life silently thanks to its electric motor. With a press of a button, the panoramic sunroof slid open, letting in the cool breeze.

"Wow..." Y/n breathed, craning her neck to look up through the open roof. Soft R&B filtered through the speakers as Jack put the car in reverse, expertly backing out of the narrow parking space.

He draped one arm along the back of y/ns headrest as he checked his mirror, his chin just inches from her cheek. She caught a hint of his intoxicating cologne and felt her stomach flip.

Once out on the main street, Jack downshifted and accelerated with a gentle surge of power, merging seamlessly into the heavy Friday afternoon traffic. He seemed so at ease behind the wheel of this fancy ride.

"So..." y/n prompted, still looking around the city in awe. "You want to explain where we're going?" Y/n kept stealing glances over at Jack, admiring the strong line of his jaw and how his features were cast in dramatic shadow and light from the passing streetlights.

He must have sensed her watching, as he briefly cut his eyes over with an unreadable expression. A little half-smile played at the corners of his lips before he returned his focus to the road.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Jack signaled and took an exit ramp. He merged them through a few side streets before pulling into a vast, nearly empty parking lot.

Y/n gasped softly as the enormous neon lights of the aquarium came into view, bathing the interior of the car in their brilliant bluish glow. She felt the excitement bubbling up inside as she looked over at Jack with a huge smile.

He killed the engine, throwing them into stillness and silence, save for the distant rumble of traffic. Jack turned to face her, catching and holding her gaze. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he regarded her for a long, lingering moment.

Then, he flashed her a lopsided grin. "Surprise..." he said simply with a little shrug. Before y/n could respond, Jack hopped out of the driver's seat and came around to her door, opening it with a gentlemanly flourish. "For the lady," he said with a playfully snarky bow.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head at his antics as she took the hand he offered. “As you should.” She said as Jack tugged her up and out of the car with surprising strength, pulling her right into his arms.

"Try not to swoon," Jack murmured low in her ear, gesturing up towards the twinkling aquarium lights. She could only nod, biting her lip to stifle her beaming smile as he laced their fingers together and led the way inside.

…

The double doors parted with a whirl of circulated air, and Y/n was immediately enveloped in the aquarium's hushed, reverential atmosphere. Soft blue lighting bathed the high ceilings and winding corridors in an ethereal glow.

"Welcome to Ritual Rift's acclaimed aquarium," a staff member greeted them. "One of the largest all-shark exhibits in the country." "No way..." Y/n breathed, clutching Jack's hand a little tighter. Of course, the arrogant jock would go big for a date.

Jack squeezed her fingers, turning to flash her a crooked grin. "Pretty cool, huh? But we've got the whole place to ourselves tonight." Y/n looked around in awe of the spacious opening, the sound of the fountains fille the almost empty corridor.

"How did you even swing that?" y/n arched an eyebrow, aiming for nonchalance though her heart stuttered at the thought of the intimate night ahead.

He shrugged, puffing out his chest. "I've got connections. Shall we?" Without waiting for her reply, Jack tugged her further inside. His hand was furnace-hot against her chilled fingers.

They wandered in silence for a while, taking in the luminous floor-to-ceiling tanks housing exotic sea creatures from around the globe. More than once, y/n caught Jack openly watching her with unabashed longing as the shimmering lights played across her face.

Don't read into it, she cautioned herself. Jack's been this way with every girl...

Still, she couldn't resist leaning closer when he draped his arm along the back of a bench, drawing her against his side as they watched a pair of deadly reef sharks glide effortlessly through their display.

"They're gorgeous..." she murmured, captivated by the sleek, powerful bodies cutting through the water.

Jack hummed an agreement, his fingertips ghosting unconsciously along her arm, raising delicious goosebumps. "I've always loved sharks. Admired their...tenacity."

She shot him a sidelong look at the clear double entendre but didn't object when he tangled his fingers with hers once more, squeezing firmly.

…

They continued on that way, Jack monopolizing any chance to touch her - resting his palm at the small of her back to guide her around a corner, draping an arm lazily around her shoulders, sidling up unnecessarily close as they stopped to examine a new tank.

She searched for any hint of mockery in his warm eyes but found only naked sincerity, causing her heart to stutter. As they entered a dimly lit cove, Jack stopped so abruptly that y/n nearly slammed into his back.

He turned and steadied her with hands on her waist, holding her there as a spinning vortex tunnel stretching high above them whirred to life.

Y/n steadied herself with her hands braced on Jack's firm chest as the tunnel whirred and began rotating around them. An array of vivid sea creatures appeared to swim in mesmerizing circles up the walls.

Jack's hands slid more securely around her waist, drawing her flush against him. She could feel the deep rumble of his chuckle against her chest.

"Pretty wild, right?" His lips brushed the delicate shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Though I've seen some moves on the ice that could put these animations to shame."

Y/n rolled her eyes, grateful for the low lighting that hid her furious blush. "Is that so, Hotshot?"

"I don't know, y/n," Jack said with a little smirk, purposely using the shortened version of her name she hated. "Maybe you should show me some of your moves sometime." He punctuated the cheesy line with a wink and a little quarter-turn of their bodies in time with the spinning tunnel.

"You'd just love that, wouldn't you?" She arched an eyebrow, keeping her tone as dry as she could manage while hyper-aware of every place their bodies touched.

Rather than rising to her sarcasm, Jack's gaze had fallen resolutely to her lips. He reached up with one hand to tenderly caress the side of her face, letting his fingers linger perhaps a beat too long as they grazed her flushed cheek.

"Maybe I would..." he murmured in that deep, rumbly timbre that had her breath hitching. She opened her mouth to fling back a pithy rejoinder, but any coherent words died on her lips as Jack began to slowly, inexorably lean in close, she could feel his warm breath fanning against her parted lips.

His body tenses as their lips finally meet in a long-awaited kiss, the kind of kiss that’s filled with electricity and sparks. Every inch of their body is press against each other.

When the kiss finally breaks apart, it feels like time stopped with it. Y/n’s heart is pounding against her chest and she can’t help but stare at Jack with parted lips, as if waiting to kiss him again. Jack leans away, getting a better look at her face, his eyes filled with the same passionate look.

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