#aroma treasures

[clarkkantagain]

ander fernandez by chris aroma

[openvimark]

(vía Camiseta entallada de cuello ancho con la obra «Castaway Perfume on the Beach» de 0penvimark)

Discover our digital art and explore our products.

Descubre nuestro arte digital y explora nuestros productos.

Design/Diseño.

https://www.redbubble.com/es/shop/ap/162312369

Stores/Tiendas.

https://www.redbubble.com/es/people/0penvimark/explore?asc=u&page=1&sortOrder=recent

[dewdropdinosaur]

Kinktober Day 24: Somnophilia

Summary: Silco pushed open the creaking door of his apartment, the familiar scent of damp wood and laundry powder mingling with the faint aroma of your perfume.There you lay, a soft silhouette against the rumpled sheets. Your night gown rode high on your thighs, highlighting your soft and supple body to his vision. The material did little to hide anything from his gaze, you had been waiting his return. It was not lost on him that his lifestyle led to a lack of moments for intimacy, and yet here you were, pliant and pretty all for him. How tempting… Warnings: P in V sex, fingering, somnophilia, reader has a vagina, cum, etc. MNDI, 18+. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.  Kinktober Mention of the Day: @ivyunleashed This story was inspired by their artwork, linked here

Silco pushed open the creaking door of his apartment, the familiar scent of damp wood and laundry powder mingling with the faint aroma of your perfume. The night had been long, filled with whispered deals and the ever-looming shadows of Zaun’s underbelly. He stepped inside, the weight of the world pressing on his shoulders, bi-colored eyes revealing the true depth of his emotions. Always the strong leader, the iron fist that ruled the Undercity, now stood a bare and broken man worked over by the waves of the world. 

Discarding his coat on the rack by the door, the house was clean. You always made sure it was for when he arrived home, nothing to worry over in this place you had crafted into a safe haven. A note stuck to the fridge annoucing leftovers for him to consume was ignored in favor for trudging into the master bedroom a few doors away. Silent as ever, as not to disturb anything you may be doing, Silco was met with a sight that never failed to stir emotions within his hardened heart. 

There you lay, a soft silhouette against the rumpled sheets, bathed in the pale moonlight that streamed through the cracked window. Hair cascaded over the pillow, framing your serene face. For a moment, Silco felt the chaos of his life fade away. You were everything he wasn't: kind, gentle, a soothing balm against the harshness of your surroundings. He truly did not know how he deserved you. 

He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb you. The sight of your sleeping peacefully made his heart swell. In a world filled with betrayal and violence, you was a beacon of warmth, a reminder that there was still a little beauty to be found. When he had met you a few years ago, a florist on the edge of the Piltover/Zaun border, his mind could have never conjured the heavenly scene that lay before him. He could hardly fathom how someone like you could exist amidst the grime and despair of Zaun, yet here you were, a perfect contrast to the life he led. For all his machinations and ruthless ambition, Silco found himself captivated by the quiet strength you brought into his life. He remembered your laughter shared over late-night meals and whispered secrets under the stars—moments that felt like stolen treasures in a world that sought to take everything from him.

Silco sat on the edge of the bed, studying your features. Your brows were slightly furrowed, as if lost in dreams, and a soft smile played on your lips. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, watching as you stirred slightly but didn’t wake. He leaned closer, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m home, darling.” he murmured, though he knew you couldn’t hear him. But the words felt necessary, a promise he held deep within his heart. Your night gown rode high on your thighs, highlighting your soft and supple body to his vision. The material did little to hide anything from his gaze, you had been waiting his return. Expecting him, ready for him. It was not lost on him that his lifestyle led to a lack of moments for intimacy, and yet here you were, pliant and pretty all for him. 

Taking a calloused hand, he traced the outline of your curves. Admiring how the moonlight accuntuated all your features, casting an etheral glow about the room. You were his angel, there was no doubt. Yet as he sat here thoughts of corrupting your innocence filled his head. You had always expressed the idea of him taking you while sleeping was attractive, the conversation had occured no less than two weeks ago. He remembered it vividly, how shy you looked, the way your eyes glistened with lust. 

“You never have to ask, Sil. My body and heart are all yours, anytime you need me.”

Oh, how sweetly you had asked. How tempting the thought was then and especially now. He shouldn’t. A perveted old man such as him had no business in corrupting your body in this way. But you had given him permission, commanded his desires to unfurl even in the darkness of night. So, it was no issue, when his hands trailed up to cup the fullness of your breasts or when his lips came to kiss up the valley of your thighs; face coming to view your pantiless cunt. The smell alone was divine, you had worked yourself before his arrival. Slick still shone on your clit, pussy open and willing to indulge his every whim and wish. The ease with which two of his long fingers came to enter you was a small surprise but a welcome one. Taking his time to scissor you open and prepare you for his cock, paying special attention to that soft and gummy spot on your front wall that had you moaning in your sleep. 

His ministrations did not wake you but added to the growing wetness between your legs, thighs spreading unconsciouly to allow him room to work. Even in sleep, your body complied, loved his every touch and begged for it. Working his fingers up into you, allowing himself the pleasure to watch how you fluttered around him. Silco swore that there was no prettier a sight than the one in front of him. You shifted, mumbling inchoherently. He paused. He shouldn’t wake you, disturb you from your peaceful slumber. But everything in his body screamed at him to continue, to make you cum and moan on his fingers till pleasure rocked your body so much it awoke in a blissful state. 

Removing his fingers to unbutton his trousers, Silco used the slick that remained on his digits to prepare himself. Adjusting so he lined up with your entrance, he sunk slolwy into you. Inch by inch, letting out a gravely moan at the feeling of your warm and tight cunt. So inviting, practically made for him. You laid still, body adjusting to his length with ease, so used to taking him so well. Beginning to thrust in and out with delibarte motion, Silco soon found himself approaching his orgasm faster than expected. 

Unbeknownst to him, your eyes fluttered open, body finally recognizing the intrustion. Suprise spread across your feature, though your boyfriend’s actions were not unwelcome. Every plunge of his member caused jolts of arousal to shake your body through the core, illiciting a pornographic moan to annouce your awakening. 

“Feel so good my darling, always been so good for me. You like it when I fuck you like this, nice and slow? Use you for my own pleasure?”

You couldn’t help but nod, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your own orgasm rapidly approached. Silco’s thrusts started to become sloppy and heated, eyes closing and hair disheveled from the intensity. Soft grunts left his lips and with one final stroke, he spilled hot ropes of cum into you; spurring you into your own orgasm at the feeling of his hot seed within you. Calming down from your high, you brought you hand to caress his cheek gently. Admiring the way his chest heaved with each breath, how dialted his eyes were. 

“Welcome home, love.”

[wethotcrazy]

NEVER GO HUNGRY EVER AGAIN

pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

word count: 1727

hii it's been a while since my last fic and im stll on a high since the abu dabi gp, so heres a cute little lando fic. also just finished my first semester of uni hopefully i can be more active.

The soft glow of the monitors illuminated Lando’s face as he leaned forward, laser-focused on his game. His fingers danced across the controller, jaw set in determination. Voices of his friends buzzed through his headset, a mix of banter, callouts, and the occasional burst of laughter.

“Lando, mate, you’re absolutely throwing right now,” Max’s voice rang out, feigned frustration clear in his tone.

“I’m not throwing! I’m playing the long game,” Lando shot back with a grin, eyes still glued to the screen. “It’s called strategy, ever heard of it?”

“Yeah, the strategy of losing,” Ria quipped, drawing a chorus of laughter from the team.

“Alright, alright, just watch this,” Lando said, leaning even closer to the screen. His tongue poked out in concentration, the telltale sign he was locked in.

Time slipped away unnoticed as he navigated the game’s twists and turns. The familiar rhythm of the stream chat’s messages scrolled rapidly on his second monitor, but he was too deep into the game to glance over. Hours must have passed, but Lando’s mind was too preoccupied to register the growling in his stomach.

Then, a knock.

“One sec,” Lando muttered, sliding one earcup off his head. He glanced toward the door, his brows furrowing in confusion before realization dawned. He leaned back in his chair, eyes softening. “Come in!”

There was a brief sound of shuffling, the slight thud of a hip bumping the door before it slowly creaked open. Y/N stepped in, balancing a plate of food in her hands with the focus of someone carrying a national treasure. The chat’s speed doubled as her side profile came into frame, and messages like "OMG it’s Y/N!" and "Wifey alert 😍" flooded the chat box.

“Brought you dinner,” she said softly, walking toward him with careful steps. The aroma hit him before she even reached his desk, and his heart swelled with warmth.

“Oh, you’re a legend, babe,” Lando said, quickly sitting upright and scooting his chair back to give her space. He took the plate from her, eyes wide with admiration as he gazed at the meal she’d prepared. “This looks amazing.”

“I was worried you’d forget to eat,” she teased, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile was soft but knowing—she’d seen him get lost in games like this before.

Lando’s eyes didn’t leave her face for a second. His gaze flickered to the chat, catching sight of the flood of adoring messages. "The way he’s looking at her, I’m sick 🩸" and "That’s the look of a man in love" filled the stream.

“She’s literally the best ever, chat,” Lando said, his voice warm and unwavering. He reached up with his free hand to gently squeeze Y/N’s wrist before letting her go. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world, I swear.”

“I’ll get you a drink,” Y/N said, already turning to leave. “Wait here.”

“I—” Lando started, but she’d already slipped out of the room. He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head before glancing at the camera. “Chat, I’m telling you, I’ve won the lottery. She’s just…” He trailed off, unable to find a word that felt big enough to encompass it all. “Yeah. She’s perfect.”

“Bro, you’re down so bad,” Max’s voice cackled through the headset. “Not even hiding it anymore.”

“Why would I?” Lando shot back, eyes sparkling with pride. He lifted a piece of the dinner—some kind of stuffed pasta—and popped it into his mouth. His eyes widened as soon as he tasted it. “Okay, wait, hold on.” He covered his mouth as he chewed, glancing at the camera like he’d just uncovered a world-class secret. “This is actually insane. I’m eating like royalty right now.”

“Imagine getting home-cooked meals while streaming. Must be nice,” Ria sighed dramatically.

“Couldn’t be me,” Aaron added with mock bitterness. “I’m over here eating cold leftover pizza like a peasant.”

“Jealousy’s a bad look on you, mate,” Lando grinned, taking another bite. He’d meant to savor it, but he’d already eaten half before he realized it. “Chat, she’s turned into a whole chef since moving in. Two weeks ago she’d barely step into the kitchen, and now look at this. Look at me.” He gestured toward himself with his fork. “I’m living like a king.”

The chat’s pace somehow sped up even more, hearts, fire emojis, and "Y/N for president" messages flooding in.

Y/N returned with a cold drink in hand and set it beside him on the desk. Her eyes darted to the chat for just a moment before glancing at him, eyebrows raised in suspicion. “What did you say?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“Nothing incriminating, I promise,” Lando said, eyes wide with faux innocence. “Only that you’re basically a professional chef now.”

“Mhm. Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes, but the smile on her face gave her away. “Just eat it before it gets cold.”

Lando’s face broke into a grin so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes. He glanced once more at the chat. "Lando’s done for, he’s a goner," one person wrote, and he had to admit… they weren’t wrong.

He raised his glass to the camera in a mock toast. “To all of you wishing you had what I’ve got,” he said, eyes flicking back to Y/N as she disappeared through the door again, “I’m sorry, but it’s mine. All mine.”

A couple of months into living together, it had become a routine for Y/N to bring Lando food during his streams. It started as a simple act of kindness but quickly became a beloved ritual for both of them — and for Lando’s ever-watchful chat.

Tonight was no different.

Lando’s camera captured him in his element, leaning forward in his chair, controller in hand, eyes narrowed in sharp focus. His headset covered his curls, his tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth in classic 'concentration mode.' On his second monitor, the stream chat moved at lightning speed, viewers spamming “LAN-DOOOO”, “HE’S SWEATING”, and various emotes of fire, skulls, and crying faces.

“Lando, you’re one shot, man,” Max’s voice rang in his ear, sharp with urgency.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah—I got it, I got it,” Lando muttered, hands moving rapidly on the controller. “Just cover me for like... five seconds!”

“Five seconds too many,” Ria chimed in. “I’m not your babysitter, Norris.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lando quipped, grinning as he slid his character behind cover.

Then, it happened — the knock on the door.

“Yo, hold on. Hold on. One sec,” Lando said, throwing a quick glance at his door. A slow grin crept onto his face as he realized what time it was. “Chat, you know what’s coming,” he said, sliding his chair back.

“It’s timeeee!” one person spammed in the chat.

“WIFEY ALERT 🚨,” another user wrote, followed by a sea of heart emojis.

The door nudged open slowly, and in came Y/N, balancing a plate with one hand and holding a drink in the other. Her expression was one of mock seriousness, eyes narrowed like she was on a high-stakes mission. The second she stepped into frame, the chat went wild.

“SHE’S HEREEEE” “THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED” “HOLD ON, SHE’S CARRYING SNACKS??” “I’m so single it’s painful”

“Dinner delivery for one Mr. Lando Norris,” Y/N announced, placing the plate in front of him with a flourish like she was a waiter at a five-star restaurant. “Sir, your steak and garlic butter potatoes. Compliments of the chef.”

“Oh, you’re too good to me, babe,” Lando said, eyes wide with dramatic awe. He glanced at the plate like it was a priceless treasure, then looked at the camera, pointing at Y/N. “Chat, look at this. Are you seeing this? Chef Y/N at it again. Tell me I’m not the luckiest guy in the world.”

“You’re not,” Max’s voice cut in, laughing. “I’m still here eating microwave noodles, mate.”

“Skill issue,” Y/N shot back casually, leaning down to glance at Lando’s second monitor. The chat’s speed had tripled. Her lips twitched into a smile. “They’re calling you a simp, by the way.”

“I am a simp,” Lando declared without hesitation, holding a fork like it was a scepter. “And I have no regrets.” He stabbed a piece of steak and stuffed it into his mouth, eyes closing in exaggerated bliss. “Oh, my days. This is illegal. You’re ruining me.”

“Man’s got his priorities right,” Aaron’s voice chimed in through the headset.

Y/N’s laughter bubbled out, light and melodic, and she shook her head. “Don’t choke on it, simp. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” She leaned in and tapped a quick kiss to his cheek, which sent the chat into meltdown.

“CLIP IT, CLIP IT RIGHT NOW” “THE KISS. THE KISS. WE’VE WON.” “I’m crying. They’re so in love it’s disgusting.”

Lando’s cheek flushed pink as he glanced back at the camera, his grin stretching wider than it should. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m done for,” he said, rubbing his cheek where her lips had been like he could still feel it. “But you’d be too if you had Y/N bringing you garlic butter potatoes, alright? Don’t be jealous. It’s not a good look.”

“You’re insufferable,” Ria sighed. “But also, I’d like to formally request a plate.”

“Tell Y/N I’ll pay her to ship it to me,” Max added.

“She’s not taking requests,” Lando shot back, grinning like a man with the world’s greatest secret. “This exclusive menu is mine and mine alone.” He held up the plate to the camera, displaying the perfectly cooked steak and crispy golden potatoes. “Look at that. The chat’s in shambles. They’re losing it. I would be too, honestly.”

He glanced toward the door, his grin softening as he caught sight of Y/N’s figure passing by in the hallway. “Yeah,” he muttered to himself, eyes trailing her for a moment longer before turning back to the camera. “I’m absolutely done for.”

“Somebody save this man,” Aaron’s voice cackled, but Lando didn’t even hear it.

“Don’t want to be saved, mate,” Lando said, mouth full of potatoes. He raised his glass toward the camera like he’d done a hundred times before. “Cheers to being a simp, yeah? I’ll happily stay down bad forever.”

[faebled-stories]

Under The Radar

Kinkvember Day 29: Public

Soloist IU (Lee Jieun) Ft. Kang Seulgi x Male reader

20k words

AN: Later than usual, sorry I had a headache the entire day today, this one is roughly edited sorry, but I still got this out woohoo. Love you guys, one day left... 💖💖

Jieun had always felt like her life was carefully mapped out, each step following a script written for her by others. As one of the nation’s most beloved soloists, adored for her pure and innocent image, she was the embodiment of grace and poise on stage and in the public eye. But behind the polished smiles and carefully chosen words, she sometimes felt constrained—like she was living in a glass box, admired but not fully free. That was until a few years ago, when she met you.

Your lively personality and unapologetic zest for life awakened something in her. You encouraged her to step outside the lines and embrace the messy, unpredictable beauty of living. Slowly, Jieun began to let go of the perfection she’d always strived for, finding joy in spontaneity. Yet, even as she embraced this new side of herself, she held onto the things that kept her grounded: late-night talks with you where she felt safe to share her deepest thoughts, quiet moments where she could just be Jieun—not the idol, not the “nation’s little sister,” but simply herself.

Beneath the city’s vibrant glow, where skyscrapers kissed the heavens and neon lights flickered like electric veins pulsing through the night, you and Jieun thrived. The rhythm of the city mirrored your love—dynamic, electric, and alive with possibility. Every glance exchanged felt like a spark igniting a wildfire, and every touch carried a magnetism that transformed the mundane into magic. Together, you created your own world, one that was equal parts adventure and intimacy.

Weekends became your playground for discovery. The city, vast and brimming with hidden treasures, turned into a labyrinth of adventure for you both. From wandering dimly lit alleys to finding secret rooftop bars where you could escape the world, every moment felt like an escape from the spotlight that followed her. Lazy mornings often gave way to spontaneous bike rides along the waterfront, the scent of saltwater mingling with the aroma of street food from nearby vendors. Evenings carried their own kind of thrill—dance lessons that left you tangled in laughter, or sipping whimsical cocktails under a canopy of stars, the city below fading into a comforting blur.

On one such afternoon, golden sunlight streamed through the windows, wrapping the living room in a cozy warmth. Jieun sat cross-legged on the couch, engrossed in a book, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her sweater. The peaceful quiet between you was comforting, but your attention kept drifting from the book in your hands to her, captivated by the way her hair glowed in the light or the subtle curve of her lips when she smiled at a passage.

Eventually, she looked up, catching your gaze. Her lips curled into a teasing smile. “You’ve been staring at me for a while now,” she said softly, closing her book. “Is there something you want to say?”

You chuckled, leaning back into the cushions. “Just admiring you.”

She laughed, a soft, musical sound. “You’re sweet,” she murmured, though her tone carried a playful edge. For a moment, her expression softened, but then a sly glint flickered in her eyes. She stood, brushing her hands down her sweater as if bracing herself, before moving to the nearby shelf. After rummaging briefly, she turned back toward you with something hidden behind her back, her cheeks slightly pink.

“What’s that?” you asked, curiosity piqued as she approached with a playful bounce in her step.

She pulled her hands forward, revealing a sleek, lacy garment that dangled lightly from her fingers. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise as the soft material glinted faintly in the sunlight, but what caught your eye even more was the small, discreet remote next to it. “I got these a while ago,” she began, her voice steady but carrying a hint of shyness. “I thought they might be fun. For us.”

It took a second for you to fully register what she was holding, and when you did, your grin widened. “Wow. You’ve been holding out on me.”

She rolled her eyes, though her blush deepened. “I wasn’t sure if it was… too much,” she admitted, glancing down at the garment briefly before meeting your eyes again. “But I figured if anyone would enjoy this with me, it’d be you.”

You reached out, letting your fingers graze the fabric. It was impossibly soft, and the hint of what it could do made your heart race. “I’d say you know me pretty well,” you said, your voice low.

Her lips curved into a smile, her confidence building as she noticed your reaction. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t,” she said, her tone warming. “I thought it might make the day a little more… interesting.”

“Interesting is one way to put it,” you replied, your grin widening as your gaze flicked to the remote in her other hand. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

She smirked, leaning in slightly. “I was born ready.”

You laughed, watching as she turned and sauntered toward the bedroom. “Give me a minute,” she called over her shoulder, her tone light and teasing.

While Jieun disappeared into the other room, you let your mind wander, the anticipation building with every passing second. You could hear faint rustling as she moved around, and the idea of what was to come sent a thrill through you. The little remote rested in your palm, its smooth design deceptively innocent. When she finally returned, she stood in the doorway, her cheeks tinged pink but her expression playful. Her skirt fell naturally into place, and she smoothed it over her hips, her movements casual yet deliberate.

“Well?” she asked, stepping closer, her tone light but with a hint of shyness. “What do you think?”

“Beautiful,” you murmured, letting your gaze linger on her. There was something about her mix of confidence and vulnerability that made her all the more captivating. Reaching out, you pulled her gently toward you until she was standing between your knees, your hands resting lightly on her hips.

She tilted her head, her smirk returning as her shyness melted away. “Even like this?” she teased, lifting her skirt just enough to give you a glimpse. The delicate lace clung perfectly, and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Especially like this,” you replied, your voice dropping slightly as your hands slid along her thighs. Then, unable to resist, you leaned forward and gave her a light, teasing spank. The soft smack made her yelp in surprise before she broke into laughter, her hand playfully swatting at your shoulder.

“You’re impossible,” she said, shaking her head though her smile lingered. Adjusting her skirt again with exaggerated composure, she added, “I hope you know this isn’t just about you. I’m supposed to enjoy this too.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, holding up the remote with a mischievous grin. “I fully intend to make this enjoyable. For both of us.”

Her eyes flicked to the remote, and she raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smile. “Just… don’t go crazy, okay?” she said, her tone a mix of playful and serious. “I’d like to actually get through the day without falling apart.”

You leaned in, brushing a quick kiss to her forehead before grinning mischievously. “No promises.”

She let out a huff, half-laughing as she leaned into you. “You’re trouble,” she murmured, her hands resting on your shoulders.

“And you love it,” you replied, wrapping an arm around her waist as you stood, pulling her closer.

-----

With the impromptu game set, you and Jieun ventured into the city’s renowned aquarium. The grand entrance glimmered under the soft evening light, its glass panels reflecting hues of pink and gold from the setting sun. Inside, the world transformed into an ethereal underwater dreamscape. The soft blue glow from the massive tanks bathed everything in a tranquil light, the murmur of water and faint sound of bubbles creating an intimate, almost otherworldly ambiance.

Jieun’s excitement was infectious, lighting up the dimly lit halls of the aquarium. Her steps were quick and light, her body practically vibrating with energy. Her delicate fingers brushed the cool glass of the tanks as she leaned in close, her breath fogging the surface slightly. Her eyes, wide with wonder, tracked vibrant coral reefs and schools of neon fish darting through the water like streaks of living paint. She let out a soft gasp of delight as a jellyfish floated by, its translucent form undulating gracefully under the soft tank lights.

“Look at this one,” she said, her voice tinged with awe as she pointed at a tiny, vibrant seahorse gripping a piece of coral. Her lips curved into a smile that lit up her face, her laughter like the tinkling of wind chimes as she moved from tank to tank, her hair swaying gently with each turn of her head.

At a tank displaying sleek, undulating eels, Jieun leaned closer, her nose almost touching the glass. The bluish light cast a soft glow over her features, accentuating the delicate curve of her jaw and the soft pink of her cheeks. You couldn’t help but admire the pure joy radiating from her as she watched the creatures glide effortlessly through the water.

You leaned close to her ear, your breath warm against her skin. “Hey, Jieun,” you whispered conspiratorially, “Did you know some eels can electrocute you, even without touching?”

She straightened, her brows knitting in skepticism as she turned to you, her lips parting slightly in question. “That can’t be—”

Before she could finish, you pressed the remote discreetly in your pocket. A soft hum filled the air, unnoticed by anyone but her. Her body stiffened almost imperceptibly, her fingers tightening on the edge of the tank as her breath hitched. A gasp, soft and sharp, escaped her lips, her expression shifting into something between surprise and restrained pleasure.

Her wide eyes snapped to you, a deep pink flush blooming across her cheeks and spreading down her neck. The faint glow from the tank made the color even more vivid, contrasting with the cool light surrounding her. “Honey!” she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper but trembling with emotion. Her free hand instinctively flew to your arm, gripping it for support as her knees threatened to wobble.

Her gaze darted around nervously, checking if anyone nearby had noticed. Thankfully, the dim aquarium lighting and the scattered visitors provided just enough cover for her to attempt to compose herself. “You didn’t!” she whispered, her tone a mix of disbelief and something unspoken that made her voice falter slightly.

“Oh, I did,” you replied with an innocent grin, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you took in the slight tremor in her stance and the way her lips parted as her breath quickened. Her body shifted subtly, her thighs pressing together in a fruitless attempt to temper the sensations coursing through her.

Her glare lacked bite, her lips twitching as though she were suppressing a smile. “You’re impossible,” she said, her voice laced with frustration but softened by a tinge of amusement. She nudged your arm weakly, her movements betraying her distraction as another soft gasp escaped her lips.

“Impossible?” you teased, leaning closer so your voice was only for her. “I’d say I’m creative.”

Jieun bit her lip, her eyes narrowing as she tried to shoot you a reprimanding look, but the way her body shivered, her hand gripping your arm tighter, betrayed the effect you were having on her. “If we get caught,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she fought to keep it steady, “I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” you interrupted, your grin widening as you watched her cheeks grow impossibly redder.

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head slightly as she glanced back at the tank, her reflection in the glass showing her flushed face and glistening eyes. “I’ll think of something,” she murmured, her voice low and edged with playful defiance.

Her eyes narrowed, but the playful gleam in them betrayed her. Even as she straightened and tried to focus on the tank, her posture remained tense, her body alive with the anticipation of your next move.

You waited, letting the vibrations continue just long enough to see her fingers grip the edge of the tank a little tighter, her breaths coming faster. Her hips shifted almost imperceptibly as she fought to steady herself. Just when you could tell she was teetering on the edge, her lips parting in a soft gasp, you turned the vibrations off.

Her eyes shot to yours, wide with a mixture of relief and frustration. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she bit her lip, her cheeks burning as she gave you a look that promised retribution.

The magical ambiance of the aquarium heightened every sensation. As you moved from exhibit to exhibit, the low lighting, soft hum of water, and distant murmurs of other visitors created an intimate atmosphere that made the teasing all the more thrilling. Near the penguin enclosure, as she watched the adorable creatures waddle and dive, you flicked the remote again. The gentle vibration coursed through her, causing her to stifle a giggle and clutch your arm for support. She leaned into you, her breath coming faster, and whispered, “I swear, if you don’t stop…”

But you could tell she didn’t mean it. The way she bit her lip, her cheeks rosy and her eyes darting nervously around the room, spoke volumes. Her whispered threats of payback only spurred you on. You waited until she was engrossed again, then turned the vibrations up, her knees slightly buckling as she gripped your arm tightly.

“Honey…!” she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation. This time, her body trembled slightly as the sensations built. You could feel her grip tightening on you, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Just as her lips parted and her eyes fluttered closed, you turned it off again.

Her sharp intake of breath told you everything. “I hate you,” she hissed, her voice low and shaky as she tried to regain her composure. But the look in her eyes betrayed her—she didn’t hate it at all.

The grand glass tunnel beneath the shark tank offered the perfect backdrop for the next round. The sharks glided silently overhead, their massive forms cutting through the water with serene power. Rays and smaller fish swirled around them, creating a mesmerizing display. Jieun stood in quiet awe, her face tilted up to watch the majestic creatures.

You saw your opportunity. Turning the vibrations up slightly, you watched as her breath hitched. She clutched the railing, her fingers whitening as she tried to steady herself. A soft moan escaped her before she quickly covered her mouth, her wide eyes darting to yours in a mix of panic and thrill.

“You’re… impossible,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she leaned closer to you, seeking support while the vibrations coursed through her body.

You leaned down, your breath warm against her ear. “I’m counting on you to keep it together,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. She shivered at your words, her body pressing into yours as the tension mounted.

This time, you kept the vibrations steady, letting them build as her body tensed against you. Her breathing grew faster, her hips shifting subtly as her grip on the railing tightened. You could feel her pressing closer to you, her soft, breathy moans muffled as she buried her face in your arm.

“Almost there…” you whispered, the vibrations intensifying slightly. Her head tilted back, her lips parting as her eyes fluttered shut. Just as she reached the peak, her entire body trembling, you turned it off.

Her eyes snapped open, and the frustration on her face was palpable. “Babe!” she hissed, her voice low and desperate. But there was no hiding the way her body trembled, her thighs pressing together as she struggled to compose herself. “You’re the worst.”

“Am I?” you replied with a sly grin, brushing her hair from her flushed face. “You seem to be having fun.”

As the day went on, Jieun’s neediness became more apparent. Her fingers would linger on your arm, her steps closer, her voice softer and tinged with a breathless edge. She whispered pleas between exhibits, her tone wavering as she begged for relief. But you kept her on the edge, turning the vibrations on and off just as she reached the brink, her soft whimpers and frustrated glances fueling your mischievous delight.

By the time you reached the dolphin show, Jieun’s restraint was hanging by a fragile thread. Her flushed cheeks and slightly unsteady steps betrayed just how much you had pushed her to the edge. Every teasing pulse left her trembling, her breath shallow, her glassy eyes flickering between the vibrant display of dolphins and the knowing smirk on your face. The public setting only heightened the stakes, her need battling against her desperate resolve to remain composed.

You had chosen a discreet spot in the far corner of the audience, away from the densest part of the crowd. The dim lighting and the vantage point gave you just enough cover while still leaving the thrill of being in public fully intact. The murmur of excited conversations and the occasional splash of water set the scene as the dolphins began their acrobatics, their synchronized movements drawing cheers and applause from the crowd.

Jieun’s posture was rigid, her thighs pressed tightly together as she clung to your arm. The vibrations had been off for just long enough to let her think she might have a moment to regain control, her body settling into a tentative calm. But you weren’t about to let her settle.

With a subtle flick of your thumb, you activated the remote in your pocket. The sudden pulse coursed through her body like a shockwave. She stiffened immediately, her nails biting into your arm as her breath hitched audibly. Her wide eyes darted to yours, a mix of shock and desperation flashing in their depths.

“Please…” she whispered, her voice trembling, her cheeks flushing even deeper as her thighs pressed closer together. You could feel her quivering against you, her grip tightening as she tried to compose herself.

Leaning in, you murmured against her ear, “Careful. We wouldn’t want anyone to notice, would we?” Your tone was low and teasing, the warmth of your breath against her skin making her shudder.

Her lips parted slightly, as if to protest, but no words came—only a soft, shaky exhale that hung in the air. Her body, always so poised and composed, betrayed her now. Her shoulders tensed as the vibrations teased her relentlessly, and her breaths grew shallow, each one hitching faintly as her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm. The delicate flush on her cheeks deepened, spreading down her neck, and the faintest tremor ran through her legs, which shifted subtly as if trying to relieve the growing tension.

Her fingers dug into your arm, her knuckles whitening as she tried to steady herself. The corners of her lips quivered, caught somewhere between a plea and a suppressed moan, her composure unraveling thread by thread. Her eyes fluttered closed, her lashes casting soft shadows on her pink-tinged cheeks as her head tilted back slightly. The glow of the aquarium’s lights shimmered on her skin, illuminating the faint sheen of sweat beginning to form on her forehead and along her collarbone.

You waited, savoring the sight of her squirming under the pressure, her body writhing ever so slightly as the vibrations worked their way through her. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, the motion betraying just how impossible her growing need was to ignore.

Then, just as her grip on your arm tightened to the point of desperation and a soft, choked gasp escaped her lips, you clicked the remote and turned the vibrations off.

The effect was immediate and visceral. Her eyes snapped open, wide and filled with disbelief as the absence of sensation left her teetering on the edge, unfulfilled. Frustration flickered across her face, her brows furrowing as she bit her lower lip hard enough to leave a faint mark, her breaths coming fast and ragged. She tried to regain her composure, but the trembling in her hands and the damp glow on her skin gave her away completely.

The show continued, the dolphins leaping gracefully through the air, but Jieun’s focus was entirely on you now. She shot you a pleading glance, her lips trembling as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. You let her stew for a moment, savoring the anticipation that radiated from her in waves.

Then, as the dolphins reached the peak of their routine, the crowd erupting into cheers, you cranked the vibrations to their highest setting.

Jieun’s entire body arched as the overwhelming sensation took hold, her back curving like a drawn bow. Her nails dug into your arm and thigh, leaving faint crescent moons in your skin as her thighs clamped tightly together, trapping the device against her sensitive center. A muffled scream escaped her lips, raw and desperate, as she buried her face into your shoulder, her cries muted by your presence. Her entire frame trembled violently, each shudder a testament to the waves of pleasure crashing over her, unrelenting and all-consuming.

Her voice broke through in a desperate whisper, trembling and raw. “I—I’m so close,” she gasped, the words barely audible, muffled against your shoulder but heavy with the weight of her release. Her entire body tensed in anticipation, her thighs shaking as the sensation built into a crescendo she couldn’t hold back.

The rhythmic pulsing of her release was unmistakable, her body quaking with each contraction as her slickness soaked through the fabric. You slid your hand down, your fingers expertly finding their way between her trembling thighs. Pressing firmly against her lips through the damp lace, you began to move in slow, deliberate circles, the texture of the soaked fabric adding a tantalizing friction.

Her muffled cries deepened, each one breaking into a fractured gasp as her body surged toward the edge. “Oh fuck! I'm cumming…” she squeeled into your neck, her voice muffled but trembling with raw need. The added pressure of your fingers—so precise, so intentional—was too much for her to withstand. Her body stiffened sharply, her thighs tightening around your hand as her release finally broke free in an electrifying wave.

Her cries grew louder, though still stifled against your shoulder, perfectly masked by the thunderous applause of the crowd in the background. “Oh—oh my God!” she cried out, her voice breaking as her hips bucked slightly against your touch, every movement a mix of surrender and uncontrollable need. The heat radiating from her core was undeniable, her arousal coating your fingertips through the soaked fabric, a slickness that only heightened the intensity of the moment.

You kept your fingers moving in slow, teasing strokes, prolonging her high as her body quaked with aftershocks. Her head pressed deeper into your neck, her damp breath hot against your skin. Each ragged exhale mingled with the faint scent of her release, intoxicating and intimate. Her trembling legs struggled to hold her weight as she clung to you for support, her grip unyielding as she rode out every last ripple of pleasure.

When her trembling began to subside, you slowly withdrew your hand, feeling her thighs relax just enough to let you pull away. Her body sagged against yours, utterly spent, her flushed face damp with perspiration. The faint scent of her arousal lingered in the air, mingling with the aquatic freshness of the aquarium. It was intoxicating, an intimate mix of her release and the soft, saline tang of the water, creating a unique blend that made the moment feel even more charged.

You lifted your hand slightly, showing her the glistening sheen that coated your fingers. The dim blue light from the tanks reflected off the slickness, catching her attention immediately.

Her cheeks deepened to a fiery red as her wide eyes locked onto your hand. “What are you…” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of mortification and fascination, her gaze unable to look away.

Without breaking eye contact, you smirked and reached out, brushing your slick fingers along the curve of her neck. The sticky warmth left a faint, glistening trail on her soft skin. The subtle scent of her arousal, so potent and personal, seemed to intensify as it mingled with her perfume and the humid air of the aquarium. Leaning in, your lips hovered just above the mark you’d made. “Look at you,” you murmured softly, your voice a low tease filled with admiration. “So beautiful like this.”

You began placing deliberate kisses along the line you had left, your lips and tongue tracing the faint stickiness as you marked her further. Her taste lingered faintly, salty and sweet, an intimate reminder of her vulnerability. Her head tilted instinctively, granting you access as you latched onto the soft skin at her collarbone. You started sucking gently, savoring the way her body responded, before increasing the intensity to leave a deeper mark. The scrape of your teeth against her skin elicited a soft whimper, her voice muffled as her hands clung tightly to your shirt, desperate to steady herself against the overwhelming sensations.

The warmth of your breath against her neck, coupled with the dampness from your kisses, sent fresh shivers through her. Her gasps grew more pronounced, each one trembling as you continued to leave small, purposeful marks, your teeth grazing her sensitive skin. The combination of your mouth on her and the scent of her release still faint in the air heightened her arousal once more.

Pulling back slightly, you met her gaze. Her eyes were glazed with satisfaction, her lips parted as she tried to steady her breathing. The flush of her cheeks spread to her neck, a beautiful testament to the intensity of the moment.

“You’re the worst,” she whispered shakily, though the way her fingers tightened their grip on your shirt told a different story. The words were barely audible, her voice a mix of bashfulness and lingering delight.

“Am I?” you teased, brushing your thumb lightly over one of the marks you’d left. “You didn’t seem to mind earlier.”

Her lips parted, as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, her gaze dropped for a moment, her cheeks flushing deeper. Her fingers gripped your shirt tightly, and when her eyes lifted to meet yours again, they were filled with an unspoken acknowledgment. The way her body pressed subtly closer, her breath hitching slightly, was all the confirmation you needed. She wanted to protest—but she knew you were right.

Your smirk softened as you lowered your head to place one last lingering kiss on her neck, letting your lips trail over the faint heat of her flushed skin. Her body shivered under your touch, a quiet gasp escaping her as she leaned into you, her silent agreement speaking volumes. When you finally pulled back, her eyes remained fixed on yours, a mixture of embarrassment, desire, and reluctant surrender shimmering in their depths.

The applause marking the end of the show broke through the moment, drawing both of you back into your surroundings. You stood, reaching out to help her to her feet. Her legs wobbled slightly, the remnants of her release still evident in her trembling. She leaned into you, her fingers lacing tightly with yours as she rested her head briefly against your shoulder.

Guiding her out into the glowing serenity of the aquarium, you felt the quiet buzz of her lingering arousal. Though she remained silent, her hand squeezed yours firmly, her flushed cheeks and the slight curve of her lips betraying just how much she’d enjoyed every moment.

-----

After that exhilarating time at the aquarium, the sexual tension between you and Jieun only seemed to grow as you entered the cozy, dimly lit restaurant for your dinner reservation. The intimate space was filled with the soft clinking of glasses and hushed conversations, creating a warm and romantic atmosphere that wrapped around you both like a shared secret.

You pulled out a chair for her, and she sat down gracefully, though the restless shifting in her movements betrayed the simmering anticipation from earlier. The low lighting cast a warm glow on her flushed cheeks, the remnants of your teasing evident in the slight tremor of her hands as she adjusted her skirt. Once the waiter approached, you discreetly activated the vibrator with a small press of the remote, watching as Jieun stifled a gasp, her body jerking slightly in her seat as she struggled to keep her composure.

“I’ll have the carbonara, p-please,” she managed, her voice catching slightly as her hand gripped the edge of the table. She shot you a look—half playful mischief, half veiled threat—as her cheeks burned with a deeper blush.

“And I’ll have the ribeye, medium please, thank you,” you said to the waiter, your tone steady as if nothing were amiss. You handed over the menus, feeling Jieun’s heated gaze on you.

Once the waiter stepped away, she leaned forward slightly, her voice low and laced with mock frustration. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Feigning innocence, you leaned back, sipping your water as you smirked. “Me? I’m just here to enjoy a nice dinner with my beautiful girlfriend.”

Her eyes narrowed, but a sly smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “If this is dinner, I’m scared to see what dessert is like,” she murmured, her tone teasing despite the tremor in her voice.

The appetizers arrived shortly after—a colorful spread of bruschetta, stuffed mushrooms, and crispy calamari. Unable to resist pushing her further, you pressed the button three times, setting the vibrations to their maximum intensity. Jieun froze mid-reach for a piece of bruschetta, her eyes widening as the sudden jolt surged through her body.

Her breath hitched audibly, and a barely contained whimper escaped her lips. She immediately crossed her legs tightly, her muscles tensing as she fought to keep herself from reacting. “Oh god,” she whispered sharply, her voice trembling, though the flicker of excitement in her eyes betrayed her.

“What’s wrong, babe?” you asked casually, your smirk widening as you took a bite of bruschetta. “You look… tense.”

Her body shifted subtly, her thighs pressing together as the vibrations continued to pulse relentlessly. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the small, breathy moans that threatened to escape. “You’re… impossible,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as her cheeks deepened to a scarlet hue. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, scanning for any sign that someone might notice her squirming.

Each movement only seemed to intensify the sensations coursing through her, the damp heat between her legs growing as her body became more sensitive. The risk of being discovered sent a thrilling shiver through her, heightening the tension. Every pulse of the vibrator seemed to echo in her mind, weaving into the restaurant’s ambiance of soft clinking silverware and low murmurs. The rich aroma of garlic and basil mingled with her heightened awareness, making everything feel overwhelming.

Her breaths became shallow, her body trembling as she leaned forward, gripping her utensils like a lifeline. She brought a bite of bruschetta to her lips, her teeth sinking into the crispy bread as a soft, involuntary moan escaped her, barely audible beneath the hum of conversation around you.

“B-babe,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as she leaned closer to you. “You’re going to regret this.”

“Is that so?” you murmured, your voice teasingly low as your fingers tapped the remote again, adjusting the rhythm. Her body jolted, a quiet whimper slipping out as she squeezed her thighs together, her legs trembling under the table.

By the time the main course arrived, Jieun’s composure was fraying. Her carbonara sat untouched for a moment as she squirmed in her seat, her breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps. Every flick of the switch sent new waves of pleasure rippling through her, her mind spinning with the relentless teasing. The tablecloth concealed her trembling legs, but the way her fingers clutched the edge of the table betrayed how close she was to unraveling.

When the waiter returned to pour your wine, you pressed the button one final time, holding it steady at the highest setting. Jieun’s eyes widened as the relentless vibrations surged through her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her body arched slightly, her lips parting in a choked gasp. She gripped the table with one hand, her other reaching for your arm under the table, her nails digging into your skin as her body shuddered.

“Babe,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with desperation. Her flushed face turned toward you, her glassy eyes meeting yours as her lips quivered. “P-please…”

You leaned closer, your voice low and teasing. “Please what, Jieun?” you whispered, your words brushing against her ear. The subtle warmth of your breath sent another shiver racing through her body, her grip on your arm tightening as if anchoring herself against the rising tide within her.

Her breaths were shallow and rapid, her body trembling as she clutched your arm tightly. The tension that had been building throughout the evening left her teetering on the brink, her thighs pressing together instinctively as if to find relief. Her lips parted slightly, a desperate moan threatening to slip free, but she caught herself, biting down on her lower lip to suppress the sound.

The relentless vibrations pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Her eyes fluttered closed as her body tensed, her breaths coming in soft gasps. You could feel it—see it—how close she was. Her thighs quivered, her hands gripping the table as the heat pooling between her legs became unbearable.

And just when you knew she was milliseconds away, you pressed the button and turned the vibrations off.

Her body jolted slightly at the sudden stillness, her eyes snapping open in wide, glassy disbelief. Her head whipped toward you, and for a moment, her parted lips and flushed cheeks told you she was at a loss for words. “No! fuck” she stammered, her voice hushed and trembling. The abrupt denial of release left her gasping, her chest heaving as her body fought to process the loss.

Her frustration spilled over, visible in the trembling of her hands and the way her thighs clenched reflexively under the table. “Please…” she whispered again, her voice a mix of pleading and incredulous annoyance. Her lips trembled as she bit down on her lower lip, squirming slightly in her seat in a futile attempt to steady herself. The flush on her cheeks deepened, spreading to her neck as she fidgeted, her body betraying how close she had been.

You leaned in casually, brushing your hand across hers on the table. “Not yet,” you murmured, your voice calm and teasing. The soft touch of your fingers sent another wave of heat through her, and her breath hitched audibly, her thighs squeezing together instinctively.

Her chest rose and fell as she exhaled shakily, her frustration now a simmering mix of desire and playful defiance. “I swear to god…” she whispered, her voice unsteady, a blend of pleading and unspoken challenge. Her narrowed gaze locked with yours, the flicker of frustration in her glassy eyes overshadowed by determination and the faintest hint of mischief. “You’re definitely paying for that later,” she added, her voice low and breathless as her lips curved into a sly smile.

You chuckled softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as your own smirk widened. “I’m looking forward to it,” you replied, your voice as confident as ever. The tension between you crackled like electricity, heightening every shared glance, every movement. Around you, the hum of the restaurant—the soft clinking of glasses, muted conversations, and bursts of laughter—faded into the background as your shared secret took center stage.

Jieun shifted again, her fingers fidgeting with her napkin as she tried to compose herself. Her restless movements betrayed her inner turmoil, her flushed cheeks and darting gaze revealing the fire you’d stoked within her. She let out a shaky sigh, her lips pressing together as she tilted her head slightly, as if weighing her options. Then, with a deep inhale, she leaned back in her chair, locking eyes with you. In that moment, the frustration in her gaze melted into something bold and daring, her confidence blooming.

As the chatter of other guests swelled around you, she “accidentally” dropped her fork, the metallic clink echoing against the hardwood floor. Without missing a beat, her dark hair fell over her shoulder like a curtain as she leaned forward, a devilish smile playing on her lips. The intensity in her eyes sent a shiver down your spine, her boldness catching you completely off guard.

Before you could react, she slipped gracefully under the table, her movements smooth and deliberate as if choreographed. The world above seemed to blur into the background—the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the muted ambiance becoming mere noise. Your heart skipped a beat, your pulse quickening as she disappeared from view, her mischievous sparkle and the determination in her actions lingering in your mind.

You felt the warmth of her breath brush against your thigh as her fingers trailed up, delicate yet teasing, igniting sparks of anticipation that coursed through your entire body. Each touch was playful and tantalizing, deliberate in a way that made it impossible to focus on anything but her. Your eyes flicked around nervously, half-expecting someone to notice, but the attention of the other diners remained blissfully elsewhere, unaware of the secret unfolding beneath the table.

“You started this,” she murmured from below, her voice a soft, husky purr that sent a thrill racing through you. Her words were both an accusation and a promise, her tone dripping with playful dominance. Her eyes gleamed with mischief, but it was the quiet intensity in her gaze that made your pulse race, your breath catching as her focus returned to the task at hand.

Her fingers danced over the fabric of your pants, the pressure light but enough to make you shift in your seat. The teasing was relentless, her touch sending jolts of pleasure that left you teetering between frustration and raw anticipation. You could feel your body responding eagerly to every movement, the tension coiling tighter in your core as her hand pressed more firmly against you, drawing a soft, involuntary exhale from your lips.

She worked the button of your jeans with infuriating precision, each flick of her fingers heightening the anticipation and drawing out the moment. One button, then another, until she pulled the fabric aside, exposing you to the cool air. The contrast of her warm breath against your heated skin sent a shiver down your spine, the anticipation coiling tighter within you. For a moment, she paused, her lips hovering close, her eyes flickering with mischief and something darker—need.

Her fingers lightly traced along your length, and she inhaled deeply, her movements slow and deliberate. Her lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes, her breathing deepening as she leaned in. You felt the soft brush of her nose against your member as she nuzzled against you, the warmth of her face and the deliberate press of her lips sending sparks through your body.

“Mmm,” she murmured softly, her voice low and almost guttural as she took in your scent. Her nose trailed along you as if she were savoring every inch, and she let out a quiet, shuddering breath. “You smell… so good,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly with growing arousal.

The wild edge in her tone sent a rush through you, your body responding to the way she seemed to lose herself in the moment. Her cheek brushed against you, her lips ghosting along your length as her hands gripped your thighs for support. You caught the faintest sound of her own breath catching, a quiet, almost needy sigh escaping her as she shifted slightly beneath the table, her thighs pressing together.

Her warm breath continued to fan over you as she rubbed her face against your member, her movements unrestrained and filled with raw intensity. Her actions betrayed how much she was savoring every second as her lips finally parted, pressing a lingering kiss against your leaking tip before taking you into her mouth in one smooth, seamless motion.

The sensation was electrifying. Her mouth was soft, warm, and inviting, her tongue swirling over you with an eager dexterity that left you breathless. The contrast of her earlier wildness and the precision of her movements now made your head spin, the combination of control and abandon driving you closer to the edge with every passing moment.

She worked you deliberately, her rhythm slow at first, as though she wanted to savor every inch of you. Her tongue danced over you, each flick and swirl sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your body. The wet, velvety glide of her mouth was relentless, and you gripped the edge of the table tightly, your knuckles white as you fought to stay composed.

Your breaths came shallow and uneven, your vision narrowing as every nerve in your body focused on the heat and wetness of her mouth. You could feel her shifting below, her body responding to her own rising desire, her muffled hums against you vibrating softly, adding another layer of intensity. The air beneath the table seemed to grow hotter, the raw intimacy of the moment amplified by her unabashed enthusiasm and the heady mix of sensations she created.

She moved with purpose now, her pace quickening slightly as her hands joined in, one holding you steady while the other traced soft, teasing patterns along your thighs. Her tongue worked in perfect harmony with the rhythm of her lips, each motion drawing you closer to the edge. You bit down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the groan that threatened to escape, the urge to let go building with every passing second.

“God,” you whispered under your breath, your voice tight as her name almost slipped from your lips. The tension in your core coiled tighter, your control slipping as the pleasure surged in waves. Her wild, unrestrained energy earlier had stoked the fire, and now her expert attention was fanning it into an inferno.

Just when you thought the intensity couldn’t build any further, her pace quickened. Teasing circles along your inner thigh, her fingers dancing over your skin with maddening precision. The combination of her mouth and touch was overwhelming, and you felt yourself teetering closer and closer to the edge.

Then, footsteps. The sound of the waiter approaching broke through the haze, your heart leaping in sudden panic. You straightened slightly, forcing yourself to meet the waiter’s gaze as he arrived at the table, his polite smile oblivious to the scene unfolding beneath.

“How’s everything, sir?” the waiter asked, his voice neutral but curious as he scanned the table.

“It’s… good,” you managed, your voice tight, almost strangled. Jieun chose that exact moment to take you deeper, her tongue flicking expertly as she hummed softly, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure that nearly made you lose composure. You felt the faintest smirk against you, her mischief palpable even in the intensity of the moment.

“G-Great, actually. It’s great,” you stammered, barely keeping your voice steady. Your grip on the table tightened as her pace increased, her movements calculated, relentless. The pleasure building inside you was nearly impossible to contain.

The waiter frowned slightly, glancing around. “And your companion? She seems to be absent.”

“She’s… in the bathroom,” you said quickly, your voice strained, barely managing to sound coherent. Jieun’s lips enveloped you completely, her movements deliberate yet bold as she sensed your imminent release. Her tongue pressed firmly against you, her rhythm unwavering as her focus remained locked on driving you to the edge. “She’ll… be back in a minute,” you added, your voice cracking slightly as you gripped the edge of the table harder, the tension within you coiling impossibly tight.

The waiter nodded politely, blissfully unaware of the scene unfolding beneath the table, and walked away, leaving you alone once more. The instant his footsteps faded, the tenuous grip you had on your composure unraveled. Jieun’s pace quickened slightly, her mouth taking you deeper as she worked you with relentless precision, the pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave.

The first pulse of your climax hit hard, stealing the air from your lungs as your body tensed under her care. A groan escaped your lips, barely stifled, as wave after wave surged through you, each more intense than the last. Jieun held you firmly, her lips sealing tightly around you, her tongue moving skillfully to guide you through the release. Her hands pressed against your thighs, keeping you steady as your body trembled with the force of your orgasm.

She didn’t swallow—not yet. Instead, she held everything in her mouth, her movements slowing but not stopping. Her tongue continued to caress you, her lips applying gentle suction as she gave you a few more deliberate sucks, ensuring she drew out every last drop. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of her warmth, her unwavering focus, and the lingering sensitivity making your breath hitch as aftershocks rippled through your body.

Jieun’s lips remained around you as she felt you begin to soften in her mouth, her tongue tracing gentle patterns along your length as she eased you through the final pulses of pleasure. Her fingers tightened briefly against your thighs, her movements tender yet precise, her care extending even as your body relaxed under her touch. She tilted her head slightly, her mouth lingering as she savored the intimacy of the moment, her cheeks subtly hollowing to coax out the last remnants of your release.

When she was certain there was nothing more, she eased back slowly, her lips leaving a lingering warmth as she released you. Her tongue flicked over her lips, her eyes glinting with triumph as she looked up at you from beneath the table. Her expression was a mixture of mischief and satisfaction, her confidence evident in the way her gaze held yours.

Your chest heaved as you fought to steady your breathing, your mind spinning from the intensity of the moment. Every nerve in your body felt alive, the sensation of her care and precision still imprinted on your skin. The world around you—the clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversation—slowly came back into focus, though the charged energy between you lingered in the air.

As Jieun rose back to her seat, her cheeks were flushed, her breath steadying after the intensity of the moment. Yet her eyes gleamed with a playful satisfaction that seemed to light her entire face. This was the nation’s “little sister,” beloved for her innocent charm, graceful demeanor, and unassailable purity. But in this moment, Jieun felt more alive than ever—bold, unapologetic, and exhilaratingly free.

Her heart raced as she met your gaze, a mischievous glint flickering in her eyes, the thrill of secrecy igniting her from within. She reveled in the delicious contradiction of it all—the sweet, innocent idol adored by millions daring to indulge in something so wild, so utterly forbidden. For years, she had carried the weight of her pristine image, playing the role that everyone expected of her. But here, beneath the dim lights of the restaurant, she wasn’t IU, the nation’s sweetheart. She was simply Jieun—fearless, audacious, and savoring every electrifying second of freedom.

A rush of exhilaration coursed through her, awakening a side of herself she rarely had the chance to explore. The stakes, the risk, the sheer audacity of her actions—they made her feel untouchable. Each glance, each subtle motion felt like a quiet rebellion against the constraints of her carefully curated life. It was intoxicating, this chance to step outside her own boundaries and shed the mask she’d worn for so long.

Her gaze darted around the room, sharp and calculated, ensuring that no one had noticed her daring move. But the steady thrum of her pulse wasn’t just from the risk of being caught—it was from the power she felt in the moment. Locking eyes with you, her expression shifted to something darker, more wicked, as her lips curved into a daring smile. Her every motion dripped with confidence as she leaned forward, taking control of the situation with a provocative ease that left you speechless.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she parted her lips and let every single drop of your release fall onto her half-eaten carbonara. Her movements were deliberate as she swirled the mixture into the creamy sauce with her fork, the action slow, purposeful, and brimming with challenge. Her gaze didn’t falter, daring you to look away, daring you to stop her. Your heart pounded, your breath catching in your chest as the audacity of her act unfolded before you.

Her pulse quickened, the forbidden nature of the moment sending a rush of heat coursing through her body. She could feel her skin flush, a tingling sensation that started at her neck and crept down her spine. The mixture of shock and arousal on your face fueled her further, empowering her with a heady sense of control. This wasn’t just about defiance—it was about claiming the moment, rewriting the rules of her normally controlled and polished existence.

She brought the first bite to her lips, her fork twisting delicately as the pasta slipped between her teeth. Her quiet hum of satisfaction resonated in the small space between you, and she closed her eyes briefly, savoring the creamy texture, the saltiness of the dish, and the layered sensations that went beyond taste. Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath, the act of eating transforming into something much more deliberate, intimate.

The plate wasn’t finished with that single bite. With slow, precise movements, she reached for a slice of bread, her fingers grazing the crust as she wiped it across the plate. The sauce clung to the bread, and her hand hovered briefly, giving you a moment to take in every detail. Her thumb brushed the corner of her lips, catching a stray drop, and she brought it to her mouth, her tongue flicking out to savor the taste. The deliberate sensuality of her actions left you breathless, your throat tightening as you watched her savor every moment.

Her moan, soft and nearly inaudible, carried a weight that rippled through you. Her lashes fluttered as she took another bite of the bread, her eyes flickering between her plate and your stunned expression. The air around you felt heavy, charged with an unspoken energy that seemed to pull the two of you into a world entirely separate from the bustling restaurant around you.

“J-Jieun…” you stammered, your voice barely audible as you struggled to process what you were witnessing. She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her lips curved into a wicked smile, the kind that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. Her gaze locked onto yours, holding you captive as she took one last, deliberate bite. The faint sheen on her lips as she licked them clean sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

Her hand moved back to the plate, her motions meticulous as she gathered the last traces of sauce. The bread soaked up every remaining bit, and she bit into it with a quiet satisfaction that left you frozen in place. Her confidence was magnetic, radiating an energy that drew your attention to every small, calculated movement she made.

The clink of silverware and the low hum of the restaurant faded into the background as you were entirely consumed by her presence. Jieun, usually so composed and polished, was utterly unrestrained. This wasn’t a moment crafted for the public—it was raw, private, and intoxicatingly real.

Just then, the waiter returned to clear the plates, his demeanor polite and professional. Jieun’s expression shifted seamlessly. Her innocent, disarming smile—the one that had charmed millions—lit up her face as she glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with a hidden delight.

“That was the best pasta sauce I’ve ever had,” she said sweetly, her voice light and cheerful, the very picture of composure. The subtle glance she shot your way was enough to make you nearly choke on your wine, her grin sparkling with barely concealed mischief.

The waiter nodded and thanked her, oblivious as he moved on, leaving the two of you alone once more. The tension between you crackled in the air with a new found energy that left you speechless. Jieun leaned back in her chair, taking a slow sip of her water, her lips glistening as her gaze lingered on yours.

For Jieun, the moment felt like a revelation. She had stepped outside the rigid mold that had defined her for so long, reclaiming a piece of herself that no one else could see. This was an adventure she wouldn’t soon forget, a memory that would stay with her long after the night ended. Her heart swelled with a sense of freedom, the knowledge that tonight, she had lived—not as the nation’s innocent idol, but as herself.

Once the meal was finished and the table cleared, the tension between you and Jieun reached a fever pitch. Every glance, every fleeting touch throughout dinner had been building to this moment. It felt as though the two of you had been balancing on a razor’s edge of anticipation, and neither of you could wait any longer. As the waiter placed the receipt on the table, you exchanged a quick, charged look, your hearts pounding in unison.

As you stood to leave, Jieun’s fingers brushed against yours, the simple touch igniting a surge of heat that rippled through you. The two of you began making your way toward the restaurant’s back hallway, where the restrooms were discreetly located. The air between you crackled with unspoken intent, your pace quickening slightly as if each step brought you closer to the inevitable release of all the pent-up tension.

Just as you passed the bar, Jieun’s movements faltered for a split second. Her gaze flicked toward a woman seated at one of the corner tables. The woman’s profile—delicate jawline, loose waves cascading down her shoulders—was partially obscured by the low-hanging light fixtures, but it was enough to make Jieun’s breath catch. Her pulse quickened as recognition bloomed in her chest. It looked just like Seulgi.

For a brief moment, Jieun’s thoughts veered away from you. The possibility of her close friend, her fellow idol, sitting just meters away sent a nervous flutter through her. What was she doing here? Was it really her? A pang of unease clashed with the heat she still felt from your earlier teasing. Her eyes lingered on the woman for a heartbeat longer, her lips parting slightly in surprise.

“Jieun?” you murmured, glancing back as you noticed her sudden hesitation.

She blinked, her lips pressing together as if to steady herself. Shaking her head, she whispered softly, “It’s nothing.” A faint flush crept across her cheeks, though whether it was from the thought of Seulgi or the tension building between the two of you, she wasn’t entirely sure. “Let’s go.”

As she turned her focus back to you, her fingers brushed yours again, and the electricity between you reignited. The thought of Seulgi was fleeting; the pull of the moment was far too strong to resist. Whatever she’d seen—or thought she’d seen—didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the shared anticipation, the magnetic force drawing the two of you closer. Nothing else could break the spell.

Once inside the women’s restroom, the intensity reached its breaking point. The door shut behind you, and the air between you seemed to crackle with electricity. Without a word, you pulled Jieun close, your lips crashing into hers with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. Her hands gripped the back of your neck as she melted into you, her breath hitching with each movement.

Your hands slid to her thighs, gripping her firmly as you lifted her effortlessly. Her legs wrapped tightly around your waist, locking you into her as her body shifted into position. Her arms clasped behind your neck, her fingers interlacing to steady herself. She arched slightly, her body horizontal to yours as she hung off you, her back supported by your strong grip on her hips.

Jieun tilted her head back, her hair spilling in waves as her body swayed slightly with each adjustment. If she tilted her head further, she could see the world upside down, the thrilling perspective only adding to the sense of wild abandon that pulsed between you.

With one hand, you shifted her skirt higher, the silky fabric gathering around her hips to reveal the dampened lace beneath. The sight alone sent a surge of heat through your veins, your breathing growing heavier as you reached down to slide the fabric aside. The softness of her skin, already slick with arousal, was like fire against your fingertips. She gasped softly, her voice trembling with anticipation, as she instinctively pressed closer to you. Her thighs squeezed around your hips, their warmth and tension radiating through you, a silent plea for more.

The heat between her legs was unmistakable, her need palpable in the way her body trembled against yours. The faint, intoxicating scent of her arousal mingled with the cool, slightly briny air of the aquarium, creating a heady mix that left your senses spinning.

“You’re already so wet,” you whispered, your voice a low growl against her ear. Your thumb brushed lightly against her folds, feeling the slickness there. “All of this just for me?”

Jieun let out a shaky laugh, her lips curving into a wicked smile even as her breaths came faster. “You know it is,” she murmured, her voice breathy and tinged with hunger. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night.”

“Good,” you growled, your grip on her hips tightening possessively. “Because I’m not holding back anymore.”

With deliberate precision, you positioned yourself at her entrance, her body eagerly yielding as you pushed inside her with one smooth motion. The heat and tightness enveloped you, drawing a deep groan from your chest as her gasp turned into a soft, breathy moan. Her legs tightened instinctively around your waist, pulling you closer, and her back arched slightly, the motion perfectly aligning your bodies.

“Oh, my God,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with every syllable. “You feel… so good.”

You gripped her hips firmly, guiding her movements as you began to thrust, each motion sending her rocking slightly in your arms. Her breath came in short, desperate gasps, her chest pressing against you as her arms locked tightly behind your neck. The friction of her skin against yours, the flushed warmth of her cheeks, and the quiver in her voice with every moan heightened your desire.

“You like this, don’t you?” you murmured, your voice rough with need as you leaned closer, your lips grazing the delicate curve of her ear. “Hanging off me, completely at my mercy.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice breaking with raw desire as her head tilted back, exposing the graceful curve of her neck. “I love it… you’re so deep.”

Her hair swayed with each movement, the strands brushing against your hands as you held her firmly. The soft glow of the lights reflected in her flushed skin, her trembling frame completely in sync with you. Every thrust seemed to delve deeper, pulling louder moans and broken cries from her lips.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you groaned, your lips trailing down to her neck. You left small, heated kisses along her skin, your teeth grazing lightly as you marked her. The faint tang of her skin, mingled with the heady scent of her arousal, lingered on your tongue, adding to the overwhelming intensity of the moment. “I could keep you like this all night.”

Her moans grew louder, her nails digging into the back of your neck as she clung to you, her body trembling uncontrollably. “God,” she breathed, her voice quivering with desperation. “You’re going to make me… I’m so close.”

Your hands dug into her hips, your movements becoming more deliberate as you pulled her onto you with each powerful thrust. The tightness of her body, the way her thighs clung to you as though she were holding on for dear life, and her cries echoing off the walls around you—all of it pushed you closer to the edge.

“You’re close?” you teased, your voice dripping with dominance as you nipped at her ear. “Then let me feel it. Let me feel you fall apart for me.”

Her body shook violently in your arms, her legs tightening as tremors began to course through her. Her breath hitched, and her cries turned into soft, desperate gasps as she teetered on the edge. “Yes… yes,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with need, her hips bucking against you in frantic, erratic motions. She was so close, the tension within her building to an unbearable crescendo—

Then, the bathroom door creaked open.

Both of you froze, your breaths catching as the sound of footsteps echoed against the tiled floor. Jieun’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp as her wide eyes met yours in panic. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain whoever had just walked in could hear it.

The footsteps paused just outside your stall. The figure on the other side of the door lingered, and you could feel Jieun’s body tense against yours as the thrill of being caught sent a shiver through her.

Outside, Seulgi stood by the sink, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. She noticed a familiar pair of shoes peeking out from under the stall door—ones she had seen Jieun wear many times before. She stepped closer, her curiosity piqued.

Then, from inside the stall, a faint, muffled gasp slipped out, catching Seulgi’s attention. Her brow furrowed as she stopped mid-step. “Are you okay in there?” she called out, her voice tinged with genuine worry.

Jieun’s eyes widened at the sound of Seulgi’s voice. Panic flashed across her face, but the edge of excitement mingled with it. She took a quick, steadying breath, her voice trembling slightly as she replied, “Y-Yes! I’m fine!”

Seulgi tilted her head, unconvinced. “You sure? You sound… a little out of breath,” she pressed, her tone filled with concern and curiosity.

You tightened your grip on Jieun, your hands steadying her trembling frame as the heat between you built impossibly higher. Leaning in, you whispered against her ear, “She’s not leaving… Maybe you should let her hear just how fine you really feel.” Your breath was hot against her flushed skin, sending another shiver down her spine. Her thighs tightened instinctively around your hips as your teasing words pushed her closer to the edge.

Jieun’s lips parted in a soft gasp, her breath trembling as you resumed your deep, deliberate thrusts. The tight, intimate space of the stall heightened every sensation, the tension making her body more sensitive with every passing second. Her nails dug into your shoulders, her attempt to steady herself faltering as her need became overwhelming.

Seulgi knocked again, her voice cutting through the charged air. “Are you sure you’re okay in there? Should I come in and check on you?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.

Jieun’s voice wavered as she bit down on her lip, fighting to keep the telltale sounds of her pleasure in check. “No!” she said sharply, her tone a mix of panic and desperation. “I’m… I’m fine. Really.”

You leaned in closer, your lips grazing her ear as you murmured, “You’re doing so well… but she’s not buying it. Let her hear just enough.” Your hips moved harder, deeper, your thrusts slow and precise, amplifying the heat coursing through her.

“Absolutely sure?” Seulgi asked, her tone dipping with suspicion now.

Jieun struggled to respond, her voice barely steady as she whispered, “Yes… please, just go…”

Seulgi hesitated on the other side of the stall, her voice softening into a teasing lilt. “ Wait…Jieun?” she called, the curiosity in her tone unmistakable.

Jieun’s body stiffened in your arms, her wide eyes darting up to meet yours in panic. Her breathing hitched, her fingers tightening against your back. The moment froze between you, her lips forming silent protests as she desperately tried to compose herself.

The silence outside the stall stretched for a moment before the faint sound of Seulgi rummaging through her bag filled the air. “Let’s see…” she murmured, and Jieun’s entire body tensed further.

Then, the sudden chime of Jieun’s phone shattered the tension. The ringtone echoed loudly in the stall, leaving no room for doubt. Seulgi’s soft laugh followed, rich with amusement and certainty. “Ah-ha! I knew it!” she exclaimed, her tone turning playful. “Jieun, don’t even try to deny it now.”

The thrill of recognition, the undeniable fact that she’d been caught, only fueled Jieun’s excitement. Her breath hitched as the sensation inside her built impossibly fast, a crescendo she could no longer resist. Her head tilted back, her arms clasping tighter behind your neck, and her legs gripped your waist with desperate intensity. Suspended in your arms, her body was entirely under your control, each thrust driving her higher and higher. The tension inside her snapped abruptly, like a dam breaking under relentless pressure.

“Fuck!” she gasped, her voice cracking with the force of her release as her climax hit like a tidal wave, consuming her completely. Her body tensed in your grip, every muscle taut as if caught in a moment of suspended time, before trembling violently with the sheer power of her orgasm. Her back arched sharply, pressing her chest against yours, her nails digging into your shoulders in a desperate attempt to ground herself amidst the storm of sensation.

Her moans, though choked and stifled against the urgency of the moment, escaped in raw, broken gasps, each one betraying the depth of her pleasure. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably around your waist, gripping you tightly as if to hold onto the intensity coursing through her. The wet heat of her arousal soaked through, a vivid reminder of just how deeply lost she was in the moment.

You gripped her hips firmly, your fingers pressing into her soft skin as you slowed your movements, keeping her steady while her body pulsed around you. Her walls clenched rhythmically, each spasm sending aftershocks rippling through her trembling frame. Her head tilted back further, her hair spilling in loose waves as her mouth hung open, releasing breathless whimpers between shallow, uneven breaths.

Her chest heaved against yours, her flushed skin damp with the sheen of exertion, each shuddering gasp a testament to the force of her release. Her trembling legs, once locked tightly around your waist, began to relax slightly as the waves of her climax slowly began to ebb. Still, her body quaked with the lingering echoes of pleasure, the aftershocks leaving her utterly spent in your arms.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and steady, a grounding force against the chaos of her sensations. “Let it all out. I’ve got you.”

Jieun whimpered softly in response, her grip on your shoulders loosening as her body melted into yours. Her head slumped forward, resting in the crook of your neck as she clung to you, her breath warm and uneven against your skin. The final ripples of her climax left her trembling, her body completely surrendered to the safety of your embrace as the intensity gradually faded into a blissful calm.

Just as her breathing began to steady, the quiet of the stall was interrupted by a soft, amused voice that broke the moment and sent a new wave of tension through the air.

She glanced up at you, her wide eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. The reality of being caught, of Seulgi knowing exactly what was happening, sent another thrill coursing through her, even as she struggled to collect herself.

Jieun bit her lip, her chest still heaving as her gaze darted toward the stall door. Her body trembled slightly from the lingering aftershocks of her release, but her determination shone through the blush on her cheeks. After a brief hesitation, she nodded at you with shaky resolve. Releasing one hand from behind your neck, she reached out and unlocked the stall door, letting it swing open just enough.

The faint creak of the door was followed by Seulgi’s sharp intake of breath. Her gaze swept over the scene, her lips parting as her eyes widened, taking in the full picture. Jieun, leaning against you in disheveled perfection, her tousled hair framing a face flushed with both exertion and satisfaction. Her lips were swollen from kisses, and her breath came in soft, uneven gasps. The afterglow of her climax clung to her like a halo, her vulnerability mingling with the undeniable satisfaction in her posture.

Your hands remained firmly on her waist, holding her possessively against you as you watched Seulgi’s expression shift from surprise to something deeper—curiosity, intrigue, and unmistakable arousal. Seulgi’s eyes lingered, taking in every detail: the way Jieun’s head rested lightly on your shoulder, the way her chest still rose and fell with each shaky breath, the way the tension in the air crackled with unspoken possibilities.

“Wow…” Seulgi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… didn’t realize you two were having this much fun.”

A flicker of heat crossed her face as her gaze met Jieun’s. The intensity of the moment hung between the three of you, the shared secret drawing you closer as Seulgi’s words carried a weight that promised more to come.

Jieun’s cheeks flushed even deeper, but she didn’t look away. Her expression was a captivating mix of embarrassment and exhilaration, her lingering gaze on Seulgi carrying an unspoken acknowledgment of the moment they were all sharing. The tension hung thick in the air, a silent invitation sparking between the three of you, leaving possibilities none of you had fully anticipated.

Seulgi’s lips parted as if to speak, but instead, she leaned in slightly, her voice teasing yet laced with genuine intrigue. “Well… don’t let me stop you. But maybe… next time, let me know,” she murmured, her words hovering between jest and curiosity. A faint smile played on her lips as she stepped back, her eyes flicking between you and Jieun.

Jieun’s breath was beginning to steady, the tremors from her recent release softening into an undeniable confidence. Her initial embarrassment faded, replaced with a playful boldness. She met Seulgi’s gaze, her pulse quickening at the sight of her friend’s barely concealed intrigue. Her lips curved into a mischievous smile, her voice light yet deliberate. “Well… if you’re in the mood… maybe ‘next time’ could be now?”

Seulgi’s eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushing as the invitation sank in. The spark in Jieun’s eyes, combined with her confident posture as she leaned into you, made it clear this wasn’t a passing suggestion. Seulgi’s gaze darted between the two of you, her composure momentarily faltering as the thrill of the situation hit her.

“You’re serious?” she asked softly, her tone a mix of intrigue and nervous hesitation. Her eyes flicked to Jieun, then to you, before landing somewhere between the two of you as if searching for confirmation.

Jieun stepped forward, her confidence radiating as she gently took Seulgi’s hand in hers. “Come on,” she said softly, her tone both playful and reassuring. Without giving Seulgi much time to question it, Jieun tugged her toward the larger disability stall at the end of the restroom. With a glance back at you and a small, knowing smile, she nudged Seulgi inside, and the three of you slipped into the space together. Jieun turned the lock with a firm, decisive click, the sound seeming to seal the shared moment.

Inside the stall, Seulgi’s eyes traveled over Jieun, taking in every detail: her tousled hair, her flushed cheeks, and the easy way she leaned into you with a comfortable intimacy that felt utterly magnetic. The raw closeness of the scene left Seulgi’s pulse racing, her nerves mingling with curiosity as she stood still, unsure of what to do next.

Jieun didn’t hesitate. Moving closer to Seulgi, she offered a teasing smile, her hand brushing lightly down Seulgi’s arm in a touch that was both gentle and deliberate. “Don’t be shy, Seulgi,” Jieun murmured, her voice soft yet laced with playful confidence. “You’re with us.”

Seulgi’s cheeks grew pinker, her breath hitching slightly as she glanced down at Jieun’s hand resting lightly on her arm. “I just… I mean… I was sort of joking earlier,” she admitted, her words trailing off as her voice softened with hesitation.

Jieun let out a quiet, melodic laugh, her confidence shining as she tilted her head, her gaze warm and inviting. “Oh, I think you’re going to like this,” she replied, her tone light yet charged with meaning. Her hand slid upward, brushing a strand of hair from Seulgi’s face. Her movements were deliberate, her fingers lingering as she added in a softer voice, “Just relax.”

Before Seulgi could respond, Jieun leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, her lips lingering for a moment before pulling back. Her smile deepened as she met Seulgi’s gaze, her expression filled with encouragement and boldness. “See?” Jieun whispered, her tone playful but reassuring. 

With that, the space between all three of you seemed to dissolve completely. Each touch and glance was filled with shared anticipation as Seulgi fully joined in, her hands and lips meeting yours and Jieun’s, bringing an added layer of intensity to the moment. The larger stall seemed to shrink as the three of you moved together, every movement deliberate and filled with unspoken understanding.

Inside the confined space, the air was heavy with warmth and the intoxicating blend of perfume, sweat, and raw desire. Seulgi leaned back against the tiled wall, her cheeks flushed with heat, her chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. Her wide eyes flicked between you and Jieun, glinting with a mixture of boldness and nerves. She bit her lower lip, the gesture as much an attempt to steady herself as it was an invitation.

Jieun, sensing Seulgi’s hesitance, stepped closer, her hands finding their way to Seulgi’s waist. Her touch was firm yet gentle as she began sliding her hands upward, finding the hem of Seulgi’s blouse. “Let me help,” Jieun whispered, her voice warm and encouraging as she guided the fabric up and over Seulgi’s head. Seulgi lifted her arms obediently, her lips parting slightly as her breath hitched.

The soft light of the stall illuminated Seulgi’s now-exposed skin, her collarbone glistening faintly, and the hint of nervous excitement in her eyes deepened. Jieun smiled reassuringly, leaning in to place a featherlight kiss on Seulgi’s shoulder before her hands moved lower. With practiced ease, Jieun unfastened Seulgi’s skirt, letting it pool around her ankles. Seulgi’s hands rested lightly on Jieun’s shoulders for balance, her chest rising and falling as the cool air kissed her exposed thighs.

“You’re beautiful,” Jieun murmured, her words tender but brimming with sincerity as she traced her fingers along the waistband of Seulgi’s panties, stopping just shy of pulling them down. The intimacy of the moment drew Seulgi’s gaze down to meet Jieun’s, her lips trembling slightly as she nodded silently.

Jieun leaned in, brushing her lips against Seulgi’s in a kiss that was both gentle and charged, her hands moving to steady Seulgi as she stepped out of her skirt. With one last glance up at her, Jieun pulled the delicate fabric of Seulgi’s panties down, leaving her fully bare and vulnerable between the two of you.

Seulgi shivered slightly, whether from the cool air or the overwhelming intensity of the moment, it was impossible to tell. But the way her hands instinctively reached for yours and Jieun’s spoke volumes. The three of you stood close, the weight of the moment heavy but electrifying, as Seulgi’s walls melted away completely under your shared attention.

When you positioned yourself closer, Seulgi’s voice broke the silence, soft and trembling. “Do you… have a condom?” she asked, her gaze flicking between you and Jieun. You exchanged a quick glance with Jieun, shaking your heads almost in unison.

Seulgi hesitated only for a second before her lips curved into a daring smile. Her eyes darted back to yours as she murmured, “Then… maybe we can still make this work if… we try it another way.”

Her suggestion lingered in the air, sparking a new thrill between the three of you. Moving with deliberate ease, Seulgi wrapped her arms around your neck, her body pressing closer against yours. Her skin was warm beneath your touch as she lifted one leg, hooking it high, her calf resting against your shoulder. The stretch of her body was graceful yet provocative, her other foot planted firmly on the tiled floor for balance. The position opened her to you completely, her breath hitching as your hands found her hips to steady her.

Her back arched slightly, her head tipping back against the cool wall as she adjusted to the new position. Her breath was a soft gasp, her cheeks glowing with both arousal and the vulnerability of being completely exposed. The angle gave her a sense of surrender that only heightened her excitement, her hands resting on your shoulders for support, fingers occasionally curling into your skin.

Jieun, watching with a playful smile, stepped closer. Her hands glided up Seulgi’s outstretched thigh, her touch light and teasing, drawing a soft, shuddering breath from Seulgi. “Relax,” Jieun murmured, her voice smooth and reassuring. “You’re going to love this.”

As you positioned yourself, the tip of your length pressed against the tight ring of Seulgi’s entrance. Her breath hitched sharply, her body instinctively tensing as her fingers gripped your shoulders for support. Slowly, deliberately, you began to push forward. The resistance was immediate—her muscles taut and trembling as they struggled to accommodate you. Every inch was an exploration, a careful coaxing as her body gradually yielded to the pressure, her tightness embracing you with a searing, almost overwhelming intensity.

Seulgi’s eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting in a silent gasp as she felt herself stretch in ways she never had before. The sensation was intense—an unfamiliar mix of pressure and fullness that sent sparks of heat coursing through her. Each millimeter seemed to awaken new nerves, her mind reeling as she adjusted to the unrelenting stretch.

“Oh…” The sound escaped her as a soft, unsteady whisper, her voice laced with awe. Her brows knitted together in concentration, her cheeks flushing deeper with every passing second. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, each exhale trembling as the pressure inside her built, sending shivers along her spine. “I didn’t think… it would feel like this…” she admitted, her voice quivering with both astonishment and growing pleasure.

Her fingers clutched at your shoulders, their grip firm as if anchoring herself against the rush of sensations. Her moans began quietly, tentative and exploratory, like a melody being discovered. But as her body softened to you, the sounds grew, confidence unfurling with each passing moment. Jieun, ever attentive, leaned closer, her soft lips finding Seulgi’s collarbone, trailing playful, delicate kisses along her flushed skin. The attention made Seulgi shudder, her breath catching as she melted further into the moment.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Jieun whispered, her voice a sultry thread of encouragement against Seulgi’s ear. The words sent a visible tremor through her, her spine arching slightly, her body instinctively moving in rhythm with yours as she nodded, her movements hesitant but full of yearning.

“Yes… he’s… so big…” Seulgi murmured breathlessly, her voice breaking into a soft moan as you deepened your pace. Her inner muscles fluttered with every purposeful thrust, the exquisite tightness heightening the intensity of every movement. Her leg, stretched high on your shoulder, offered the perfect angle for deeper, more deliberate strokes, each motion drawing a gasp or a trembling sigh from her lips. Her flushed cheeks and trembling frame spoke of the raw honesty of her surrender, the moment etched with vulnerability and desire.

The tightness of the position amplified every sensation, each thrust an intense, electric connection between you. Seulgi’s flushed cheeks glowed, her half-lidded eyes shining with vulnerability and pleasure. Jieun’s hands caressed her thigh, the warmth of her touch grounding yet teasing as she leaned in, her presence anchoring Seulgi in the storm of overwhelming sensations.

“I… I can’t believe this…” Seulgi whispered, her voice breathless and tinged with awe. Her lips brushed your shoulder as she spoke, her body trembling as she clung to you and Jieun for support, completely immersed in the moment.

Jieun’s lips pressed a gentle kiss to Seulgi’s temple, her fingers threading through Seulgi’s damp hair. “You’re doing amazing,” she murmured, her tone soft yet edged with playful confidence. The reassurance brought a flicker of a smile to Seulgi’s lips, even as another gasping cry escaped her, her body arching into your deepening rhythm.

The air around you was thick with heat and intimacy, the cramped stall brimming with a charged energy that left none of you untouched. Seulgi’s moans grew louder, her voice rising with each deliberate movement, her hands clutching you with an almost desperate intensity. Her body moved instinctively with yours, a perfect harmony of push and pull, tension and release, as she surrendered completely to the moment.

Not stopping there, Jieun slid gracefully to her knees, the cold tiles sending a slight shiver through her as the warmth radiating from Seulgi’s trembling body pulled her in. Her eyes glinted with mischief as they locked onto Seulgi’s, taking in her flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the way her breaths came in short, desperate gasps. Seulgi’s composure was completely undone, her vulnerability and desire laid bare.

“You really are breathtaking, Seulgi,” Jieun murmured, her voice a low caress that sent a visible shiver through her. The words left Seulgi speechless, her lips trembling as she tried to form a response, but only a quiet, shaky exhale escaped. Jieun smirked, trailing her fingers teasingly along Seulgi’s thighs before spreading them gently, exposing her completely.

As you maintained your deep, steady rhythm, Seulgi’s body rocked against yours, her soft cries and gasps reverberating through the confined space. Her head tilted back, her hair cascading as her lips parted further, releasing trembling breaths. Her body was taut with anticipation, every nerve heightened as she felt the building intensity.

Jieun leaned in, her warm breath brushing against Seulgi’s slick entrance, sending a jolt through her already trembling frame. With deliberate care, Jieun placed a soft, exploratory kiss against her folds, her lips moving gently over the sensitive skin. The sensation drew a broken gasp from Seulgi, her hips twitching as the unfamiliar yet overwhelming attention consumed her.

Jieun’s tongue followed, warm and languid, tracing slow, deliberate strokes along Seulgi’s folds. The taste of her arousal lingered on Jieun’s tongue as she savored each movement, her hands gripping Seulgi’s thighs firmly to hold her steady. Seulgi whimpered, her fingers clutching at your shoulders for support, her body trembling as the sensations intensified.

“Look at you,” Jieun murmured between strokes, her voice dripping with teasing admiration. “So perfect… so ready for us.”

The gentle pressure of Jieun’s tongue against her folds, combined with your deliberate, steady thrusts, pushed Seulgi closer to the edge. Her breathing became erratic, her body pressing instinctively into Jieun’s touch. The warmth of Jieun’s breath, the slick glide of her tongue, and the way you filled her deeply created a symphony of sensations that left Seulgi completely undone.

Her soft moans turned to pleading gasps, her thighs trembling in Jieun’s hold as her body gave in to the rising tide of pleasure. Each stroke of Jieun’s tongue and the firm grip of your hands guided her higher, her movements increasingly erratic as she teetered on the brink. The intensity between the three of you was electric, each moment drawing Seulgi deeper into the overwhelming heat of the moment.

Jieun’s mouth moved with deliberate care, her tongue tracing intricate patterns along Seulgi, each movement soft but purposeful. Seulgi’s body stiffened at the sensation, her breaths hitching as Jieun’s warm tongue explored her slick entrance. The delicate, tantalizing strokes made her hips roll instinctively, chasing the sensation with unrestrained need.

Seulgi’s body rocked against you, her back arching slightly as every motion elicited a soft, breathy moan that echoed off the tiled walls. Her hands clutched at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as her head fell back, her neck arching gracefully. Her features were completely unguarded, a beautiful display of raw vulnerability and pleasure.

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice trembling and barely audible. “I… I can’t—oh my god…”

“You can take it,” you growled softly, your hands tightening on her hips to keep her steady. The authority in your voice sent a shiver through her, her body trembling with both anticipation and surrender.

Jieun’s lips curved into a knowing smile against Seulgi’s entrance before she adjusted her rhythm, her tongue flicking and gliding in perfect harmony with your deep, steady thrusts. The attention was unrelenting, every stroke of her tongue deliberate and calculated to draw Seulgi closer to the edge. Her lips brushed over Seulgi’s heated skin, pressing gentle kisses between each motion, teasing her further.

Seulgi’s cries grew higher and more desperate, her body responding with an unrestrained fervor as the tension inside her built to an unbearable peak. Her hands tightened around your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as if anchoring herself against the storm of sensations. Her legs shook against you, the tremors a physical testament to her escalating need, her entire body teetering on the edge.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasped suddenly, her voice cracking as her climax surged through her like a tidal wave. Her entire frame went rigid, her muscles tightening as if time itself had momentarily stopped. You felt it vividly—the tight ring of her ass quivered and pulsed around you, each contraction squeezing you in rhythm with her release, her body responding instinctively to the depth of your connection. The sheer intensity of it sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, the primal intimacy almost overwhelming.

Jieun, still nestled between Seulgi’s trembling thighs, felt the flood of sensation in her own way. The slick folds of Seulgi’s center quivered against Jieun’s lips, the trembling warmth transmitting every pulse of her orgasm. Jieun couldn’t help but smile against her, the quaking response like a song of pleasure only she could hear and feel. Her tongue slowed its movements, offering gentle, soothing strokes that coaxed Seulgi through the peaks and valleys of her release.

Seulgi’s body shook violently, her thighs squeezing around Jieun’s shoulders as her hands clutched desperately at you for stability. Her cries, muffled against your neck, were raw and trembling, each one punctuated by the rhythmic spasms that overtook her. The sheer force of her orgasm left her breathless, her chest heaving against yours as the ripples of her climax spread through her like aftershocks.

Her head tilted back slightly, her face glowing with the intensity of her release, her damp hair clinging to her flushed cheeks. Her lips parted as she let out a final, soft whimper, her body collapsing into your arms. The lingering tremors in her muscles and the warmth radiating from her skin made her feel utterly fragile and entirely yours in that moment.

As Seulgi’s body began to come down from her high, her trembling legs and quivering muscles spoke of the overwhelming climax she’d just experienced. Her chest rose and fell in rapid breaths, her head resting momentarily on your shoulder as her arms clung to you for stability. The aftershocks rippled through her, each small convulsion eliciting a soft gasp or whimper.

But you weren’t ready to stop. You continued to thrust into her, your movements slow but deliberate, drawing new waves of sensation from her already oversensitive body. Her nails dug into your shoulders as she let out a breathless moan, her voice laced with surprise and surrender.

“I-I’m so sensitive,” she whimpered, her voice trembling as you held her steady. Yet, even through her overstimulation, there was a flicker of hunger in her tone, a silent invitation for more.

Jieun, ever attentive, leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to Seulgi’s temple as her fingers slid along Seulgi’s slick, trembling thighs. “You’re not done yet,” Jieun whispered, her voice teasing and sultry. “We’re going to make you feel everything.”

Slipping two inside Seulgi with practiced ease. The slick heat welcomed her instantly, and with a deft curl, she pressed against Seulgi’s g-spot, her movements precise and rhythmic. Seulgi gasped sharply, her back arching as her overstimulated nerves sparked to life again. Her moans grew louder, breathless cries that filled the stall as Jieun’s fingers pumped steadily.

“You like this, don’t you?” Jieun murmured against Seulgi’s flushed skin, her lips brushing just below her navel. “You like the way my boyfriend’s cock feels inside you. Look at how good you’re taking him.”

Seulgi’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking against both you and Jieun’s relentless rhythm. “Y-Yes,” she gasped, her voice trembling, “oh my God, yes…”

Jieun smirked, her confidence growing as she saw Seulgi unravel. Her fingers pumped faster, the slick, wet sounds echoing in the confined space. “That’s it,” Jieun whispered, her tone a mix of teasing and command. “You’re going to cum so hard for us, aren’t you? You’re going to show us just how much you love being filled like this.”

“Oh fuck… I can’t…” Seulgi whimpered, her head falling back against the stall wall, her body tightening as the overwhelming sensations built to an unbearable peak. Her cries turned desperate, her legs trembling as her free leg strained for balance while the one on your shoulder quivered violently.

Jieun’s lips descended further, her warm breath brushing Seulgi’s sensitive flesh before her mouth captured Seulgi’s clit. The sensation was immediate and devastating. Jieun’s tongue swirled and flicked with skill, her lips sealing tightly as she sucked gently, intensifying the pleasure radiating through Seulgi’s body. Her fingers inside Seulgi never faltered, each curl and thrust perfectly timed to push her closer to the edge.

“You’re going to cum for us again, one last time,” Jieun said against her, her voice muffled but dripping with authority. “Come on, let go. I want to feel you fall apart.”

The combination of Jieun’s relentless mouth, her fingers stroking Seulgi’s most sensitive spot, and your deep, steady thrusts was an intoxicating overload. Seulgi’s cries grew louder, her body jerking uncontrollably as she clutched at both of you. Her nails dug into your shoulders and Jieun’s hair as she gasped.

Her inner muscles clenched around you with an intensity that bordered on overwhelming, the rhythmic pulsing pulling you deeper into her. Her voice broke into a scream as every nerve in her body seemed to ignite with pleasure. Jieun, ever attentive, stayed locked onto Seulgi’s clit, her tongue flicking with precision, her fingers curling harder, pushing Seulgi to the precipice of an entirely new realm of sensation.

Jieun noticed how close you were as well, her keen intuition picking up on every subtle shift in your breath and movement. Lifting her head briefly from Seulgi’s clit, her lips glistening with Seulgi’s arousal, she didn’t pause for long. Her thumb immediately replaced her mouth, rubbing firm, deliberate circles over the swollen nub. Her movements were precise, each stroke designed to maintain the building tension in Seulgi’s trembling body.

Jieun’s fingers never faltered, pumping rhythmically inside Seulgi, curling just right to press against her g-spot with unrelenting precision. Seulgi’s breath hitched, her hips rocking against Jieun’s hand as her cries grew more desperate. Jieun leaned in again, her mischievous eyes flicking up to meet yours, a smirk playing at the corners of her damp lips.

Then, with a wicked glint in her eye, Jieun shifted her focus. Her tongue flicked out, delicate and teasing, as she leaned toward you. Her warm breath ghosted over your sensitive entrance before her tongue made contact, tracing slow, deliberate circles around the tight ring of muscle. The sensation was electrifying, the wet warmth of her tongue contrasting with the overwhelming tightness of Seulgi’s body clenching around you.

Jieun’s tongue moved with exquisite care, alternating between firm pressure and featherlight strokes, each flick sending a shiver up your spine. She leaned in further, her hands steady on Seulgi as she balanced herself to focus on you fully. The way her tongue explored you was intimate, her motions filled with a mixture of playfulness and intent. She seemed to delight in your reaction, her soft hum of satisfaction vibrating faintly against you.

“Fuck, Jieun,” you groaned, your voice thick with raw pleasure. Your thrusts stuttered slightly, the dual sensation of Seulgi’s tightness and Jieun’s tender caress overwhelming every nerve.

She chuckled softly, her warm breath sent shivers down your spine as her tongue continued its wicked dance against your sensitive entrance. Her deliberate, teasing strokes were maddening, contrasting perfectly with the tight heat of Seulgi wrapped around you. 

Seulgi’s body trembled violently, her breath catching in desperate gasps. Her thighs quivered against you, one hooked over your shoulder as her nails clawed at your back, anchoring herself through the overwhelming sensations. Every thrust sent her closer to the edge, her cries becoming higher and more frantic. “I-I can’t—oh God, I’m so close!” she whimpered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Jieun lifted her head, pulling back from you with a wicked grin, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. She shifted slightly, sitting back on her heels, her mischievous eyes locking onto Seulgi as she kept her thumb and fingers working with unrelenting skill. “Come on, Seulgi,” Jieun purred, her tone dripping with seduction. “Let go for us. Show me how much you like the way he fills you.”

Seulgi’s moans escalated into cries of desperation. Her muscles clenched around you tightly, her body arching as the overwhelming sensations pushed her over the precipice. “Oh my God, I’m—I’m—!” she screamed as the dam finally broke. Her climax hit like a storm, her body convulsing uncontrollably as a hot, sudden rush of fluid erupted from her, drenching Jieun completely.

The warm liquid sprayed over Jieun’s chest, face, and hair, the intensity of the release leaving Seulgi sobbing with pleasure. Her thighs trembled against you, her body went limp as she held onto you, trying to keep herself upright. “Oh fuck!” she gasped, her voice broken and raw as her body continued to quiver.

Jieun, her chest rising and falling with excitement, glanced down at herself, her lips curling into a playful smile as the liquid dripped down her skin. “Look at you,” she murmured, her voice husky and teasing. “So messy. So beautiful.”

The sight of Seulgi unraveling, her body shaking with unrestrained pleasure, was enough to tip you over the edge. Her leg, still stretched high on your shoulder, trembled violently, while the other pressed firmly against the floor for balance. Her pulsing, tight ring clenched around you, drawing you deeper into her as if her body refused to let go. The heat and rhythmic spasms of her climax were unlike anything you’d ever felt, sending you hurtling toward your own release. With a deep, guttural groan, you thrust into her one final time, the tension snapping as your release surged forward in a flood of warmth.

Seulgi’s breath hitched sharply, her nails digging into your shoulders as her body reacted to the unfamiliar sensation. Her half-lidded eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting as a soft, tremulous moan escaped her. The warmth of your release spread within her, filling her completely in a way she’d never experienced before. Her body shivered uncontrollably, her mind spinning as the sensation tipped her into a new wave of blissful aftershocks.

“Oh…wow” she murmured, her voice shaky and raw as her muscles quivered, every pulse drawing out the lingering heat inside her. The intimate sensation left her breathless, her head resting against your shoulder as she clung to you for support. Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as her body instinctively responded, each flutter of her muscles milking the last remnants of your release.

As you slowly began to withdraw, the sensitivity of the moment overwhelmed her. The gradual slide of your length, slick with the evidence of your union, caused her to gasp softly, her body shivering from the sudden emptiness. The cool air against her heated skin only heightened her awareness of the loss, the contrast stark and intimate. “I can feel…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her head tilting forward in a dazed mix of wonder and exhaustion.

Her trembling legs struggled to support her as her body instinctively clenched, missing the warmth that had just left her. The sensation of your release still lingering within her was both strange and deeply satisfying, a reminder of the closeness you’d just shared.

Jieun, ever attentive, leaned forward with a soft, knowing smile. Her damp hair clung to her flushed cheeks as she trailed her lips down Seulgi’s trembling thigh, her breath warm and intimate against her oversensitive skin. With Seulgi’s leg still perched on your shoulder, her body open and exposed, Jieun moved closer, her tongue darting out to clean the traces of your release.

Seulgi’s entire body shuddered as she felt the warm, deliberate strokes of Jieun’s tongue against her stretched ring. The sensation was unlike anything she had experienced—intensely intimate and overwhelming, her muscles instinctively quivering with every pass of Jieun’s lips. The soft, wet sound of Jieun’s work, combined with the sensation of her tender scoops and lingering sucks, made Seulgi’s breath hitch. A quiet, trembling whimper escaped her as her hands reached out, weakly gripping Jieun’s hair, seeking something to ground her.

The slick warmth of Jieun’s tongue pressed delicately yet persistently, cleaning every inch of her sensitive skin. Seulgi could feel every flick and caress, her body responding involuntarily with a new wave of tremors as Jieun’s mouth worked its way methodically. Jieun’s lips brushed against the tender area, adding a mix of teasing and care that left Seulgi gasping softly, her legs threatening to give out entirely.

Once satisfied, Jieun leaned back slightly, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she licked her lips, savoring the remnants of your release and Seulgi’s arousal. Rising with a fluid grace, she moved toward Seulgi, her expression both predatory and affectionate. Reaching out, she cupped the back of Seulgi’s head, pulling her close until their faces were mere inches apart.

Seulgi’s breath hitched as Jieun closed the distance, capturing her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. The intimacy of the act was electrifying, the lingering taste of your release mingling between them as their tongues intertwined in a fervent, hungry dance. Seulgi’s hands slid to Jieun’s waist, her grip weak but desperate as she melted into the kiss, her soft moans swallowed by Jieun’s relentless passion.

The taste of you lingered between Jieun and Seulgi, adding a raw intimacy to their kiss. It was fervent yet tender, their shared vulnerability creating a timeless moment between them. Jieun’s hand tangled in Seulgi’s hair, her grip firm but affectionate, grounding them both in the heat of the moment.

The sight was overwhelming. The way their lips moved together, the visible flick of their tongues during brief partings, and the way they shared your essence between them was intoxicating. Each flick of their tongues, every quiet gasp and hum of pleasure, felt magnetic, leaving you teetering on the edge of awe just from watching. The chemistry between them was undeniable, a perfect blend of curiosity and passion that left you captivated.

When their lips finally parted, a faint shimmer of your release still connected them, a delicate thread glistening briefly before Jieun licked it away with a soft hum, her smile warm and satisfied. She glanced at Seulgi, her eyes glowing with affection. “That was… something else,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of shared intimacy rather than teasing. Her tone was calm, almost reverent, as if she wanted the moment to linger.

Seulgi let out a breathy laugh, her cheeks still flushed as she leaned back against the cool stall wall for support. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her legs trembling slightly as she tried to compose herself. “I don’t even know what to say,” she admitted, her voice soft but laced with lingering wonder. “That was… unforgettable. Completely.”

Jieun tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear, her own breathing still settling. “Unforgettable,” she echoed, her smile softening. “Exactly what it should be.” Her gaze shifted to you briefly, filled with warmth, before returning to Seulgi. “I’m glad you were with us.”

Seulgi nodded, a quiet laugh escaping her as she smoothed down her clothes with trembling hands. “I think I’m the lucky one here,” she said, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and sincerity. “But we should probably… you know, clean up a little before someone notices.”

Jieun let out a small laugh, nodding as she adjusted her hair and straightened her outfit. Her reflection in the mirror caught your eye, her flushed cheeks and radiant smile making your heart swell. “Alright,” she said softly, her voice steady now. “Let’s do this without looking guilty, okay?”

Seulgi smirked, her composure slowly returning. “I’ll try,” she said with a chuckle. “But no promises.”

The three of you slipped out of the stall, moving as calmly as you could manage despite the thrill buzzing in the air between you. Each shared glance carried an unspoken agreement to keep cool, but the faint smiles tugging at your lips betrayed the adrenaline still rushing through you.

Just as you neared the door to the dining area, a loud, exasperated voice rang out, cutting through the hum of the restaurant like a sharp knife.

“Ugh, it reeks of sex in here! Who the hell did this?”

The words froze you all mid-step. Jieun slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with mortified delight, barely stifling the laughter threatening to escape. Seulgi’s eyes darted to yours, her expression torn between panic and amusement. For a second, the three of you just stood there, caught like kids who’d been caught red-handed.

Then, as if on cue, the spell broke, and you bolted.

Laughter erupted from all of you as you sprinted through the dining area, the chaos unfolding in perfect synchronization. The manager’s head turned just in time to see you weaving between tables, his shout of, “Hey! Stop right there!” drowned out by the clatter of silverware and your uncontrollable laughter.

Jieun’s hand found yours, her grip firm as she tugged you forward. Her face was lit with exhilaration, her flushed cheeks glowing in the dim restaurant light. The door to the restaurant swung open with a loud bang, and the three of you burst into the cool night air.

None of you dared to look back as your footsteps echoed against the pavement. The adrenaline coursing through your veins mingled with an almost childlike joy, your collective laughter ringing out into the quiet street.

Turning a corner, you slowed to a stop, panting and leaning against the wall for support. Jieun’s head fell back, her laughter bubbling out uncontrollably, her eyes sparkling in the faint glow of a nearby streetlamp. Seulgi leaned forward, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath, her own laughter interspersed with gasps.

“Oh my God,” Jieun gasped between breaths, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration. “Did we seriously just do that? What are we, teenagers?”

Seulgi, still laughing, shook her head. “Honestly, I’ve had wild nights before, but this? This takes the cake. You two are something else.”

Finally, your pace slowed as the street grew quieter, the laughter tapering off into soft chuckles. Seulgi stopped first, turning to face you and Jieun with a warm, mischievous smile.

“Thanks for letting me be part of this,” Seulgi said softly, breaking the quiet between the three of you. Her tone carried a sincerity that contrasted with her playful grin. She stepped closer, pressing a quick kiss to Jieun’s cheek, then yours. Her gaze lingered for a moment, her smile widening with mischief. “Don’t keep me waiting too long for the next one,” she teased, her voice light but filled with meaning.

Jieun blushed deeply but managed a smile. “We’ll let you know,” she replied, her voice tinged with warmth as she watched Seulgi step back.

Seulgi waved as she turned and headed down the street, disappearing into the glow of the city. The quiet hum of the night filled the space she left behind, and you felt Jieun’s hand tighten slightly around yours.

As you glanced down, Jieun tilted her head to meet your gaze, her eyes shimmering with unspoken gratitude. “I still can’t believe we just did that,” she murmured, her voice tinged with amazement. “I don’t think I ever would have… without you.”

You squeezed her hand, your smile soft and reassuring. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Jieun. You’re stronger and braver than you think.”

She laughed gently, the sound carrying a mix of disbelief and joy. “It’s because of you,” she admitted, her voice wavering slightly. “You make me feel brave. You make me want to really live—not just go through the motions, but actually feel alive.”

Her words hit you deeply, stirring something in your chest. You stopped walking, turning to face her fully. Reaching up, you tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, your touch lingering. “Jieun, you’ve always had that courage. All I’ve done is show you what’s already there. And I’ll keep reminding you of that—always.”

Her lips curved into a tender smile, her eyes glistening as she leaned into your touch. “You’ve changed my life,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt more like myself than I do with you.”

Pulling her into your arms, you held her close as the cool night air swirled around you. The soft glow of the streetlights painted her face in warm tones, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how serene and radiant she looked. Her usual composed, idol-like demeanor had melted away, replaced with raw, unfiltered happiness.

“I love you,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead, the words coming effortlessly.

Her cheeks flushed, her smile softening as she looked up at you. “I love you too,” she replied, her voice steady and full of emotion. “More than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

The moment stretched as the world seemed to fade around you, leaving just the two of you beneath the open sky. Her arms looped around your neck, and you leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss that was slow and meaningful. Every touch, every movement spoke of a love that was deep and enduring, a connection that went beyond words.

When the kiss finally broke, her forehead rested lightly against yours, her breath mingling with yours. The faint hum of the city seemed to pause, giving the moment its own space to exist. Her cheeks tinged with a deeper pink as she tapped your chest playfully. “You’re too good to me.”

“Not possible,” you said with a chuckle, pulling her closer. “You’re my everything.”

The two of you stood there, wrapped in the warmth of the night and each other. It was as though time had slowed, giving you a moment to fully appreciate the love that had grown between you. As you began to walk again, her hand snug in yours, she let out a soft laugh.

“You think we’ll ever have another night like this?” she asked, her voice teasing but hopeful.

“With you? Every night feels like this,” you replied, glancing at her with a grin. “But we’ll keep raising the bar.”

Her laughter bubbled up, light and carefree, as she leaned her head against your shoulder. “You make everything feel limitless,” she said softly.

Her words filled your chest with warmth, and as the two of you walked down the quiet street, a spark of inspiration flickered in your mind. It was an idea that felt right—something that would take your shared adventures to the next chapter. You tucked it away for now, savoring the night and the woman at your side.

The city’s hum provided a gentle backdrop as Jieun glanced up at you, her eyes brimming with affection. Her hand tightened around yours, grounding you in the moment. The future felt full of promise, a canvas waiting to be painted with more memories like this—and something even greater.

Your smile deepened as you squeezed her hand a little tighter, knowing this was only the beginning.

Epilogue.

Quite a few months had passed since that unforgettable day, and though life had returned to its steady rhythm, the memories of that evening lingered like a vivid dream. They were a testament to how far Jieun had come from the quiet, reserved person she once thought she was. With you by her side, her world had expanded; her confidence had bloomed like a flower reaching toward the sun. Every day felt like an adventure waiting to unfold, brimming with possibility and love.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, the rooftop above the city had been transformed into a sanctuary of twinkling lights and soft, soulful music. Strings of fairy lights draped elegantly across the railing, casting a warm, golden glow that danced against the inky sky. The stars shimmered brilliantly, their light reflected in the glossy skyscraper windows. The distant hum of the city below faded into a comforting backdrop, the occasional car horn or burst of laughter adding texture to the quiet intimacy of the night.

Jieun stood by the railing, her silhouette framed by the glistening skyline. The flowing fabric of her dress fluttered gently in the evening breeze, the soft folds catching the light like ripples on a moonlit lake. Her hair moved with the wind, strands catching in the gentle currents and brushing against her glowing cheeks. Her eyes, luminous as they reflected the stars above, held a quiet joy as she gazed out at the cityscape. The faint scent of jasmine and roses, from the bouquet you’d surprised her with earlier, lingered in the air, mingling with the cool crispness of the night.

You couldn’t help but marvel at her. Even after all these years together, she still had a way of taking your breath away. Her radiance, raw and unfiltered, felt more captivating than the sprawling view beyond her—a beauty that was both effortless and deeply magnetic. As you approached, the sound of your footsteps caused her to turn, her smile soft and familiar, the kind that seemed to light up even the darkest corners of your world. She extended her hand toward you, her fingers delicate and welcoming.

“This is beautiful,” she said softly, her voice filled with a wonder that made your heart swell. Her gaze wandered over the fairy lights, the softly swaying lanterns, and the cozy table set with remnants of your earlier dinner. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“Well, it’s a special night,” you replied, intertwining your fingers with hers and pulling her closer. The warmth of her touch spread through you like a gentle fire. “You deserve the best.”

Her eyes flickered with curiosity, a playful crease forming between her brows. “What’s the occasion? You’ve been so mysterious all week.” Her tone was light, but you could see the spark of anticipation in her expression.

You smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. The silky texture slipped between your fingers like a whisper of moonlight. “You’ll see,” you said teasingly, your voice low and affectionate. “But for now, just enjoy this.”

Earlier, the two of you had shared a simple yet intimate dinner. You’d cooked together, the act filled with laughter, teasing, and the occasional brush of your hands. The rooftop now stood as a glowing testament to your love, bathed in warm, golden light, with the soft strains of her favorite songs drifting through the air. It was the perfect setting for what you had planned—the next step in a journey you both held dear.

The music shifted to a slower melody, a romantic tune that had always reminded you of her. Without a word, you took her hand and guided her into a gentle sway. She moved with you easily, her laughter light and bright as she leaned her head against your shoulder. The scent of her favorite perfume, a delicate blend of vanilla and white florals, mingled with the crisp night air, heightening the intimacy of the moment.

“Dancing under the stars,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of wonder. “You really do make everything feel magical.”

“You’re the magic,” you whispered, your lips brushing the top of her head. Her warmth against your chest, the way her body moved in sync with yours, and the way the world seemed to shrink until only the two of you remained—it was all so achingly perfect.

Her arms wrapped around your neck as you continued to sway, her cheek pressed against your chest. You could feel the rhythm of her heart, steady and strong, mirroring your own. The fairy lights twinkled in the corners of your vision, their glow reflecting in her dark, expressive eyes when she tilted her head to look up at you.

The music softened, the gentle melody wrapping around you both, and you knew it was the moment. You stopped swaying, stepping back just enough to hold her gaze, her curious smile tilting as she tried to read your expression.

“Jieun,” you began, your voice soft but steady, “these past few years have been the most incredible of my life. Every single day, you’ve shown me a kind of love and joy I never even knew existed. You make everything better, brighter, and more alive.”

Her brows knit together slightly, her lips parting as if to speak, but she stayed silent, her eyes searching yours.

Taking a deep breath, you dropped to one knee, pulling the small velvet box from your pocket. Her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes widened, shimmering with unshed tears. The fairy lights above reflected in the glistening drops as you opened the box, revealing the ring—a delicate, sparkling design you’d chosen just for her.

“You’ve made me a better person,” you continued, your voice thick with emotion. “And I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me. I want to laugh with you, dream with you, and face every challenge together... Jieun, will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to hang in silence. Her hand remained pressed against her mouth, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears that reflected the glow of the fairy lights around you. Then, as if the dam holding back her emotions broke all at once, she let out a high-pitched squeal, her voice trembling with joy as her laughter spilled out between sobs.

She didn’t extend her hand or wait for you to slip the ring on. Instead, with an impulsive, raw burst of emotion, she dropped to her knees, throwing her arms around your neck. The velvet box in your hand tipped slightly as she buried her face in your shoulder, her whole body trembling against yours. “Yes!” she cried, her voice muffled but bursting with happiness. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

Her embrace was tight and unrelenting, her fingers clutching the back of your shirt as if she was afraid the moment might slip away. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close, your heart swelling with an indescribable warmth. Her tears soaked into your shirt, her soft sobs punctuated by laughter that bubbled up uncontrollably.

“You’re shaking,” you murmured, your voice full of awe as you gently rubbed her back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m—” she hiccupped, her words faltering as she pulled back just enough to look at you. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her smile so wide it looked like it might break her face. “I’m just so happy,” she managed, her voice trembling as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t even—” She shook her head, laughing softly through her sobs. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

With a tender smile, you reached up to brush her tears away, your thumb trailing along her damp skin. “It’s happening,” you said softly, meeting her gaze with all the love in your heart. 

Still trembling, she let out a watery laugh, finally glancing down at the ring in your hand. “The ring!” she said, her voice pitching higher as she held out her hand, her fingers still shaking slightly.

You slipped the ring onto her finger with care, marveling at how perfectly it fit, as though it had been waiting for this moment all along. Her breath caught as she stared at it, her lips parting in disbelief. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s… perfect.”

“Just like you,” you replied, pulling her back into your arms. She clung to you, her laughter mingling with her tears as she kissed your cheek, your neck, anywhere she could reach, her joy spilling over like a tidal wave.

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” she said through her tears, her voice soft but full of emotion. “You’ve given me everything. You’ve shown me what love is supposed to feel like.”

“And you’ve done the same to me” you replied, your voice thick with your own emotion. “You make me whole, Jieun. I’ve been waiting for this moment since the day I met you.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands coming up to frame your face. Her gaze locked onto yours, her eyes still swimming with tears but filled with a deep, unshakeable love. “I love you, so much” she whispered, her voice trembling with the sincerity of her words. “More than anything in this world.”

“I love you too,” you said, your forehead pressing gently against hers. “Forever.”

As the two of you knelt there beneath the twinkling fairy lights, the city below hummed softly, a quiet witness to the moment. The stars above seemed to shine brighter, as though celebrating your love alongside you. Jieun’s laughter, her tears, and the warmth of her touch wrapped around you like a cocoon, making the rest of the world fade into the background.

Finally, as the emotions began to settle, you both stood, your hands still entwined. The soft glow of the fairy lights played across her face, highlighting the dreamy smile that had yet to fade. She glanced down at the ring on her finger again, tilting her hand slightly to catch the light. “This feels like a dream,” she murmured, her voice tinged with wonder and disbelief.

“It’s real,” you said softly, bringing her hand to your lips and pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. “And it’s just the beginning of our forever.”

Her smile widened, but as you gazed at her, the weight of the moment suddenly hit you harder than you expected. Your chest tightened, a swell of emotions rising so quickly it left you breathless. A lump formed in your throat as your eyes began to well, and despite your efforts to blink them away, a tear slipped down your cheek.

Jieun’s expression softened instantly, her brows knitting together in concern. “Oh, honey,” she whispered, stepping closer as her hand cupped your cheek. Her thumb brushed away the tear with infinite gentleness. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice soft and steady, laced with quiet reassurance.

You let out a shaky laugh, shaking your head as you reached up to cover her hand with yours. “It’s nothing bad,” you managed, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you felt. “It’s just… I’ve never felt this lucky. Like, what did I ever do to deserve you? To deserve this?”

Her lips parted as she took in your words, but she didn’t speak right away. Instead, she pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around you with a fierce, grounding warmth. Her head rested against your chest, her breath slow and even as if willing you to mirror her calm.

“I just…” You exhaled, your hands resting on her back as you clung to her. “You make everything feel so… right. I never imagined I’d find someone who’d see me the way you do. You’re my everything, Jieun. And knowing you feel the same… it’s overwhelming.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes glistening as they searched yours. Her hands cupped your face, and without a word, she leaned in and kissed you deeply, pouring all her emotions into the connection. It was warm and soft, filled with unspoken comfort and a promise that she would always be there.

When she pulled back, her smile was gentle, her eyes filled with quiet understanding. She rested her forehead against yours, her hands moving to hold your shoulders as if anchoring you to her. “I love you,” she whispered, the simple words carrying the weight of everything she felt. “More than anything.”

You nodded, a soft laugh escaping you as you brought your hands up to frame her face. “I love you too,” you murmured, your voice steadier now. “I just hope I can be everything you deserve.”

“You already are,” she replied softly, shaking her head as her fingers brushed your hair. “You’ve always been.”

Her reassurance washed over you like a balm, and you pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering as the two of you stood wrapped in each other’s warmth. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only with the faint hum of the city below and the quiet rustling of the breeze.

When you finally stepped back, her radiant smile returned, lighting up her face. Her hand reached for yours again, intertwining your fingers as she glanced back at the sparkling city lights. “Come on,” she said softly, tugging you toward the edge of the rooftop. “Let’s soak this in. All of it.”

You followed her, wrapping your arm around her waist as you both looked out over the view. The night was cool but welcoming, and for the first time in your life, you felt truly complete. You glanced at her, marveling at how perfectly she fit against your side, her presence grounding you in a way nothing else ever had.

“Jieun,” you said, your voice low but full of conviction. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy. I swear.”

She leaned her head against your shoulder, her hand tightening around yours. “You already do,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with certainty.

The two of you stood there beneath the stars, the city a sea of glittering lights below. The moment was timeless, the love between you palpable and unshakable. And as her warmth pressed against you, you knew—this wasn’t just a new chapter. It was the story you’d been waiting to write your entire life.

[uzurakis]

hi kiara! can you please make a continuation of “their act of intimacy” but with gojo, toji, and sukuna? i melted the first time i read them with the other characters 😭 hope you have a good day ahead of you ❤️

THEIR ACT OF INTIMACY?

featuring: gojo satoru. ryomen sukuna. toji fushiguro.

n. aaa thanku for liking the previous one! this is for you nonnie <3 didn’t really proofread cause i’m running late on sleep lol. PART ONE HERE :0

GOJO SATORU. gojo finds it calming when you both take a shower together. however, his notion of "calming" may differ from the ordinary. instead of drowsing in warm water and doing all those private things such as soaping his back and shampooing his hair, you and him sometimes have other spontaneous ideas in mind.

as the warm water cascaded down, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of closeness that's as comforting as it is exhilarating. satoru, with his irrepressible charm and mischievous grin, stood beside you, his presence filled the space with a playful energy.

"ah, feels like heaven," he sighed, whilst eyes gleaming with shenanigans. you chuckled, reaching for the shampoo. “don’t start a water fight again, satoru. let us enjoy a nice and relaxing—“

but before you could react, a splash of water hit you square in the face, causing you to sputter and laugh. “gotcha!" the man exclaimed, his laughter echoed through the tiled walls.

"it’s sooo on now!" you declared, retaliating with a splash of your own.

and just like that, the bathroom transformed into a battleground, with water flying in every direction as you both engaged in your playful antics. amidst the laughter and the splashing, there's an undeniable sense of joy that filled the room.

"careful, satoru," you warned, dodging his playful advances, "you're going to get soap in your eyes."

but he just grinned. "not before you get ‘em first, babe.”

and so, you guys continued your playful banter. soaked to the bone and grinning from ear to ear, gojo satoru defines his own calming moments with you.

RYOMEN SUKUNA. your boyfriend is a big guy, or so he believes before you swoop in and baby him. does he resist? yes. but will he eventually agree? absolutely.

the aroma of freshly cooked pasta filled the air as you stood in the kitchen. across the room, your boyfriend, sukuna, leaned against the counter, watching you with a bemused expression. you took a small portion with a spoon in hand, "say 'a' for me, sukuna.”

"hell nah.” his face was holding back the disgust. “you know, i can feed myself, right?"

"come on, baby, just one bite," you urged, eyes pleading. he hesitated for a moment, then sighed, giving in to you. “no—tsk, fine.”

“just this once.”

as he reluctantly opened his mouth, you couldn't help but suppress a giggle at the sight of him being spoon-fed like a child. your boyfriend’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he quickly swallowed the pasta, avoiding your gaze.

"see, that wasn't so bad, was it?" you teased, unable to contain your amusement.

he grumbled something unintelligible in response, but as you proceeded to feed him, he took every piece and never turned it down until the last bite.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. toji never declines your offer to groom him. he rarely takes attention to his appearance, whereas you insist on cleaning up him up and do it with your own hands. at first, he doesn't think of it as intimate thing because isn’t it just about cutting and shaving? but as time goes on, he understands how much you value him and treasures the time you spent solely on him.

the soft glow of evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue over the cozy living room. toji sat on the couch, his unkempt hair falling into his eyes. you watched him from afar with a fond smile tugging at your lips.

“toji,” you called out. “your hair has gotten longer than the last time i remember.” he chuckled softly, already accustomed to this routine. "is it that time again?"

with scissors and a comb in hand, you approached him with a smile. “c’mere, sit down, baby.”

letting a shrug plus a grin, the man complied, settling onto the stool you'd placed in the middle of the room. as you draped a towel around his shoulders, his eyes met yours in the mirror.

"you know, i understand why you enjoy doing this so much.” he admitted, leaning back as you began to comb through his hair.

"you know why?” you replied, your voice soft as you worked. "it's about taking care of each other, babe. showing love in the little things."

he fell silent at your words, mulling them over as you continued to trim away stray strands. gradually, the tension seemed to melt from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of ease and contentment.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

[hannahbarberra162]

Emperor's Prize (Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader)

18+ MDNI, on Ao3

Chapter 2

Oops! Accidentally wrote another yandere story. This time its Alpha Shanks and Omega Reader.

If I have to keep thinking about it, you can read about it. It’s cringe, it’s overdone, it’s annoying and I don’t care. I did proofread this, but I'll likely do so again in the coming days.

TW: depression, suicidal ideation mentioned, non-con, dubcon, whump, abuse

MIND THE TAGS!

~

Shanks gets more than just the Poneglyphs when he destroys the Victoria Punk, he gets you too. Shanks is kinder than your previous owner, but an Emperor doesn't let treasures slip through his fingers.

~

As you sat on the floor in Kid’s cabin, wrists shackled and chained to his bed, you heard the tell tale sounds of fighting. You knew that Kid was going after Red Haired Shanks in an effort to dislodge the Emperor and take his title. You would never say anything for fear of being slapped across the face or worse, but you didn’t think he was going to win. At least, you hoped he didn’t. You hoped the Emperor killed everyone on board, yourself included. It was what the crew deserved, and your torment would finally end. You would be free of the hell your life had become since the Kid Pirates had taken you from your home. It would probably be a better ending for you than anything else that would happen, anyway.

You’d been living on Beta Island incognito, hiding your status as an Omega. You didn’t want to be sold to a Celestial Dragon in your late teens, as your parents had planned for you. So you’d escaped your home island shortly before your 13th birthday, evading patrol after patrol, living your life on the run. Eventually, you found yourself on Beta Island, which suited you just fine. Only Betas were allowed to live on the island, avoiding all the trouble that the other two dynamics brought with them. You’d taken suppressants since your escape and because you’d never gone into heat, you were able to pass yourself off as a regular Beta. It had been an idyllic time for you, as you worked and made friends with the Betas on your island. You had even deluded yourself into thinking that maybe your life would be alright, when the Kid pirates attacked the island.

You were running away from the chaos and destruction downtown, trying to keep from being spotted as well as you could. Scrambling through an alley, you passed the Captain himself, who was laughing at the bloodshed and pain he was causing innocent people. You thought he hadn’t seen you but you suddenly felt yourself being dragged backwards, back towards the pirate. Panicking, you tried even harder to wriggle away and escape but it proved to be pointless. Later, you found out that he was magnetizing the grommets in your clothes to bring you towards him. Captain Kid grabbed you in his metallic hand once you were close and inhaled a deep whiff of your scent. When you were on suppressants, your ability to scent was dulled but you could still tell you didn’t like his acrid aroma. Kid smelled like sweat, blood, oil, and anger, not an appealing combination. Pushing on the gigantic metallic arm, you tried in vain to dislodge yourself from his grasp. 

“What’s an Omega like you doing on Beta Island?” he asked, crushing your ribs with his gigantic fist. You weren’t sure if he knew his own strength, but he was keeping you in his clutches with ease.

“N-not O-omega,” you grunted out, trying to breathe through the constriction of his hand. You were still squirming, trying to get away from the large pirate.

“Oh yeah? You sure? Your pussy smells like Omega. It’s practically cryin’ for me to take you right here,” he sneered. “Oi! Killer! Take this one back to the ship, lock ‘er in my cabin.” He yelled to a man in a full face mask. Leaning closer to your face, he licked your neck and leered at you. “We’ll find out later if that pussy is Omega or not,” he said, handing you off to Killer. You tried to get away from the masked man, to no avail. Killer was just as strong as his Captain and wasn’t letting you down. Kicking, screaming, pounding his back did nothing as the first mate advanced towards the ship. 

Quickly chaining you to the Captains bed, the first mate considered you for a moment. “I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Omega. Lose the attitude. Otherwise, you won’t last long here.” 

He wasn’t wrong. 

Kid had come back to his cabin once the pirates had sufficiently destroyed your peaceful home. You huddled in the corner of the room, as far as your chains would let you, but the Captain had you before him in seconds. Covered in the blood of your former friends, the Captain had disrobed you, ripping through your clothes like they were paper. 

“Lemme see yer,” Kid said, ogling your now naked form. You tried not to cower, but you couldn’t help but tremble before the raw bloodlust in his eyes. You’d never taken a lover before, you had been too nervous it would interfere with your hormones and expose you as an Omega. Kid's leering had led to groping, which led to much more. That first night he’d bitten, clawed, bruised, kissed, and abused you, leaving you broken in spirit and body. You never fully recovered. You quickly learned he didn’t want you talking, didn't want you making eye contact, didn’t want to hear your crying, didn’t want anything from you except your body. He used you as he saw fit, as ruthless to you as he had been to your island. He never even asked your name, most often calling you ‘Omega,’ or ‘Bitch,’ among other colorful names.

You were the Captain’s sex doll, and the crew treated you as such. No one paid you any mind except to tell you to move the fuck out of the way, or to laugh at you as you stumbled out of the Captain’s quarters when he let you. Killer would occasionally bandage your wounds, but Kid preferred you to wear the marks he put on you. Kid wanted the mating bond to form between the two of you, to solidify the fact that you were his and prevent any rivals from taking you. To do that, he needed to bring you into heat. To try to get you to go into heat, he had tried any old wives tale he could find. He locked you in his quarters, denied you food except for his cum, kept you naked for days on end, bit your neck in a claiming bite, anything that might work. None of it did, but it all left you weakened, depleted, and suicidal. 

Even though you could practically feel his disdain for you, Kid sometimes told you his plans late at night after he finished pumping you full of his come. As you laid with tears drying on your cheeks and blood dripping from fresh wounds he’d given you, he told you about his simmering hatred for Red Haired Shanks and how he wanted his revenge. During these conversations, you encouraged him, praising his strength and skill, and told him that he absolutely was powerful enough to take on the Emperor. You were surprised that your voice held out while you were talking, both from disuse as well as from the effort you had to put into lying to his face. Once when you voiced these opinions, he’d stroked your skin while in thought, the first time his touch hadn’t hurt you. 

The day finally came that he attacked the Emperor. You’d heard him powering up his attack, laughing maniacally as he planned to wipe out the fleet of ships you could see from his cabin window. You cringed, waiting for the sounds of the dying….except it never came. Instead, a sonorous voice boomed out “Divine Departure,” bringing a deafening blast to your ship. Screams had followed, but not the ones you were used to. Rather, you detected the screams coming from the crew, yelling that they didn’t want to die, that the Captain had been defeated, that Killer was also knocked out. 

You couldn’t help it, you laughed long and hard, cackling into the darkness that had consumed the ship. You knew your voice had been ruined from too much choking and screaming, your vocal chords permanently damaged at the hands of your would be Alpha. The sounds you made were harsh and coarse, like a ghoul laughing from beyond the grave. Normally you were too ashamed to speak with your butchered voice, but you were too joyous to care. You were happy he’d received vengeance for some of the violence he brought to the world. You could only hope the ship sank and the rest of you with it. 

A few moments later, the door banged open and Emma stood before you, tears running down her face. She didn’t address you, just unchained you from the post on the Captain's bed and pulled you along with her. She was carrying the Poneglyphs, the Captain’s most prized possession aside from you. Emma was running, giving you barely enough time to avoid being dragged, as she brought you to the center of the deck. She bowed, and when you didn’t follow suit right away, kicked you so that you fell to your knees. Glancing up, you saw why.

All powerful Emperor Red Haired Shanks was on the Victoria Punk, staring down the crew impassively as they pleaded for their lives. You dropped your head, not making eye contact with the Emperor. You’d been hit enough to know that Alphas didn’t want you making eye contact with them in any capacity. Shanks approached Heat, who now held both the Poneglyphs and the end of your chain.

Shanks POV

Shanks observed the panicking Commander as he advanced towards their Captain. Kid’s crew were begging for Shanks’s forgiveness, something that would not be given. They had tried to annihilate his subordinate crews and would have, if Shanks hadn’t acted so quickly. Drawing a gun was dangerous, it put your life on the line. And Kid had been given a warning when Beckman shot off his arm. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way. 

A young woman brought the Road Poneglyphs in her hands, along with someone attached to the end of a chain. Handing her Commander both items, the blue haired girl bowed in supplication to Shanks, awaiting his judgment. Noting the chained woman didn’t do the same, the girl kicked the battered woman, bringing her to her knees. Shanks took the Poneglyphs from the Commander, who also handed him the end of the chain of the cowering woman. Shanks had no interest in slaves, he didn’t keep or want any. The slave kept her gaze averted, looking at the ground as she trembled. Her body was littered with bruises in various stages of healing, as well as cuts and welts. She bore a savage mating bite that was clearly infected, along with bruising circling her neck. Breathing in deeply, Shanks hid his surprise as he realized the small woman was an Omega. 

Omegas were exceedingly rare in the world, they were either sold to Celestial Dragons for an incredible amount of money, or outright stolen from their homes. If an Omega bred with an Alpha or Apex Alpha during their heat, the offspring was guaranteed to be either an Alpha or Omega, unlike other pairings. Because the Celestial Dragons took or bought nearly all of the Omegas in the world, wild Omegas were unbelievably scarce. Shanks hadn’t heard of one being found in over a decade. How the Kid pirates had managed to find one and kept her a secret, Shanks didn’t know. 

He said nothing as his own ship passed by, his crew calling out to him. Shanks removed his Emperor’s cloak, covering the shivering woman in its warmth and his scent. Your small trembling fingers took the fabric and held it shut around your body, as you sniffed the material. You still hadn’t said a word or looked at anything besides the floor, but there would be time to investigate later. Throwing the Omega over his shoulder, Shanks took the Poneglyphs in hand and stepped on the railing of the enemy ship. You were light and put up no struggle when Shanks took you, the only sound emanating from you was the clinking of your chains.

“Look over on the island!” Shanks heard the offending crew yell as he launched himself onto the Red Force. The Omega didn’t shout or scream, just gripped his shoulder a little more tightly as he darted into the air. Landing on the Red Force, Shanks yelled out for Hongo.

“Meet me in my cabin. Ten minutes,” Shanks ordered. The doctor nodded his assent, and went below deck, likely to the infirmary to gather supplies. Handing the Poneglyphs to Beckman, Shanks shifted the Omega in his arms so he was carrying you with his arm under your legs. You moved your face so it was buried in the crook of Shanks’s neck, avoiding looking at either the ship or the crew assembled on the deck. He hoped you were acclimating yourself to his scent, it would make your transition away from your previous mate easier. Even through the fear and pain Shanks smelled on you, he could tell your scent was absolutely delicious, like no other woman he’d smelled before. His cock twitched with the thought of claiming you for his own, though your medical issues needed attention first.

Bringing you to his cabin, Shanks shut the door behind you quietly. Depositing the woman onto his bed, you shrank back further into the cloak as if to hide yourself. You gripped the hem of the garment so hard that your fingers were turning white, matching your face as the color drained out. Ah , Shanks thought to himself, she thinks I’m going to ravage her right now like some animal . It made sense, he’d put you on his bed, what else were you going to think? 

Sitting down next to you on the bed, Shanks didn’t speak. Instead, for the first time in the Emperor’s life, he purred. He was an Apex Alpha, a rare breed of Alpha who was able to control other Alphas. It came with Conqueror’s Haki, the two traits going hand in hand. Purring came to him instinctively, but he’d never felt the urge to do so before. He’d had lovers who’d requested it, but Shanks had always laughed them off like they’d told a joke. But seeing you distressed made the rumble come almost unbidden, rising from his chest like a balm. You still didn’t look at him, but your fingers relaxed incrementally. Shanks continued purring for you as you tensed at his presence next to you, tenderly picking you up to sit on his lap. You sat upright, stiff, your body rigid with fear and apprehension.

“Easy, little Omega, easy,” Shanks said between purrs. You didn’t respond but didn’t object either physically or verbally to anything he was doing. Shanks wound his arm around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The rhythmic sounds were working, lulling you into a state of relaxation and calm as your hands dropped to your lap and your head relaxed against his chest.

Your POV

You were gripping onto the Emperor’s black cloak like it was going to shield you from whatever was going to happen next. It was heavy and warm, smelling like tobacco, cloves, and oranges, a heady combination. Even if your life would be no better under the Emperor, at least this scent wouldn’t make the bile rise in your throat. 

You were still avoiding his gaze, your wrists shaking in the chains under his watch. He’d put you on his bed, likely for the same reasons Kid always had. At least he hadn’t thrown you against the wall or forced you to suck his cock first, making you choke until you cried or passed out. Much to your dismay, he began to purr for you. You’d heard stories during your childhood about the Alpha purr. There were whispers that it was a form of mind control, that it was used to beguile Omegas into doing things against their will. Kid had already done a lot of things against your will, the Emperor didn’t need to purr to make you do anything. You hoped this wasn't a precursor to something vile, though you were long past wishful thinking.

But as the Emperor continued to purr and moved you into his lap, you felt it working despite your efforts to remain alert. The soothing rumble had you taking deep breaths and relaxing your hands. You felt your exhaustion returning to you, adrenaline finally having run its course. Against your better judgment, you laid your head on the broad chest of the Emperor behind you. His well muscled arm encircled you, and you were content to forget the horrors that would likely await you in the coming days, feeling only the warmth and comfort of an Apex Alpha’s purr.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door of the cabin, making you jerk upright once again. You’d looked at the door when you’d been surprised, but you quickly affixed your gaze to the floor once again. You hoped Shanks hadn’t seen your mistake, or that he would be willing to forgive you if he did. But he didn’t move to strike you at all, just called out to whoever had the audacity to bother the Captain. 

“Come in, Hongo,” he said calmly. You wanted to hide your face in the crook of his neck again, but you knew there would be no solace found seeking comfort where there was none. Opening the door, a large man with blonde hair came inside, carrying a black leather doctor’s case. You said nothing and remained in place, it was the safest route for the time being. The man, whose name you now knew to be Hongo, walked slowly towards you and his Captain, as if he was walking towards a wild animal.

“How’re we doin’, Captain?” he asked, surveying the scene in front of him. The Captain obviously hadn’t been hurt, he was talking about you.

“Alright,” Shanks answered, arm squeezing you a little tighter. You flinched as the memories of being crushed by Kid’s arm came flooding back to you. “They had an Omega. She needs some help,” he said softly, patting your thigh over his cloak. You were acutely aware that you were completely nude below the cloak. You hoped Shanks wouldn’t take you in front of Hongo, or at least not for the first time. Kid had done whatever he wanted, it didn’t matter to him who saw what he did to you. 

“Sure, no problem,” Hongo replied easily, opening his bag. He brought out a stethoscope first, something you were familiar with. Winding the scope around his neck, he slowly pried the cloak out of your fingers in order to put the bell on your skin. You desperately wanted to stay within the safety of the cloak, but you knew you had no power. If they wanted to see you naked, they were going to get what they wanted. Surprisingly, Hongo didn’t remove the cloak completely, allowing you use it to cover your breasts and lower half while he worked. As Hongo placed the buds in his ears and reached towards you with the scope, you leaned back and away from the advancing hands. You hadn’t meant to, it was instinctive. Shanks started purring for you again as he gently but firmly kept you in place for Hongo, his arm across your waist.

“You’re safe, Omega, he’s not going to hurt you. He’s just checking your lungs and heart,” the Captain said softly. Hongo took his time listening, moving the scope around your back and front. Once he was done, he put the scope away and took out medical gloves. 

“I’m gonna check the wounds on your top half and neck, OK?” Hongo informed you. You said nothing as he began touching the injuries that you’d suffered at the hands of Kid. You kept yourself from making any noises of pain or recoiling when he touched something painful. You knew you looked beaten and ugly, despite avoiding the mirror. Kid always left bite marks, bruises, hickeys, and cuts whenever he was with you. Your breasts looked like they’d been mauled the last time you’d checked them. But the worst of all was your neck - between the times he’d choked you, the bite he’d given you, and the attention he gave your scent glands nightly, it was a column of black and blue. In spite of your efforts, you hissed when Hongo touched your neck tried to move away from his efficient hands. 

But the men weren’t going to let you shrink away from the medical inspection. Shanks cradled your head against his shoulder when Hongo inspected the agonizing bite on the spot between your neck and shoulder, purring all the while. You knew there was something wrong with it, but Kid had never let you touch it or clean the wound, saying that it would affect your mating bond. You thanked the seas that the bond hadn’t formed, but the throbbing pain of the bite had only gotten worse.

“You’ve got a lot of wounds on your torso and neck. Are there more below?” Hongo asked quietly when he was done inspecting your top half. You waited, not knowing if they wanted you to respond or not. Sometimes it was a trick, people would talk about you while you were there but if you responded, you got in trouble. 

“Hm, do you? I thought I saw some before,” Shanks asked you benignly, rubbing his fingers in circles over your skin. They were both quiet for a few moments and you realized they were waiting for you to respond. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk, so you gave a shaky nod while continuing to look at the floor.

“I’m gonna have to look, OK?” Hongo said, crouching down in front of the Captain. He was trying to make eye contact, but you steadfastly stared down, in order to show your obedience. You blinked rapidly several times, willing the tears not to fall from your eyes. You’d been naked in front of so many people, but the fact that Hongo was asking made you feel more vulnerable than ever. You nodded again, but your hands were frozen in place, gripping the cloak with all your meager strength.

“Brave little Omega, doing so well,” the Emperor said into your hair, kissing the top of your head. You didn’t know when the last time you’d been allowed to bathe was, you were sure you smelled disgusting. Shanks unwound his arm from your waist, and slowly tugged the fabric from your hands, letting it fall onto your lap. You tried not to squirm, not to move as the doctor touched your welts and cuts, but you felt humiliated and debased as he poked and prodded you. After a few minutes of inspection, Hongo sighed, stood up to his full towering height and snapped off the gloves.

“There’s a lot going on,” he said to the Emperor, who had rapidly covered you back in the cloak. “She’s got a lot of wounds, some healing, some new. That bite on her neck is infected, it needs to be taken care of immediately. She’s malnourished and has at least one broken rib. And she’s going to go into heat soon.” 

Your eyes finally snapped to the doctor’s, everything lost to the panic suddenly overwhelming you. 

Shanks POV

Perhaps having Dorry and Broggy destroy the ship wasn’t enough. As Shanks watched you flinch away from Hongo’s inspection, his rage rose by the second. He’d seen your naked form on the ship, but the dim light hadn’t revealed to him the depth of your injuries. It was practically a miracle that you were still alive, Shanks thought. It was well known that Omegas weren’t as durable as Betas and Alphas, they were generally treated with care like the treasures they were. But not only were you littered with wounds from head to toe, but you were a shell of a person. You hadn’t said a single word, you hadn’t made eye contact with him yet, and you hadn’t moved an inch outside of where Shanks had placed you. 

Now, with the information that you were going into heat soon, you were panicking. Shanks could feel your heart beating rapidly and saw your chest rising and falling too quickly. The Alpha in him was worried, wanting to soothe the Omega still perched on his lap. Shanks put his hand over your chest, trying to slow the beating of your heart. Even if the Alpha in him wanted to purr and cuddle you until you calmed down, the Captain needed to get a little more information out of you first. You were still lost in your own world, not responding to any stimulus.

“It’s alright, Sweetheart. Everything is going to be just fine. When was your last heat, hmm?” Shanks asked, holding your face in his hand. The touch seemed to ground you, causing you to blink rapidly as if you suddenly remembered there were other people in the room. You shook your head at his question, making Shanks frown at your answer. The longer an Omega went without a heat, the lengthier and more severe the symptoms were when it reappeared. Shanks hoped you hadn’t gone into heat during your time in captivity, it would increase the likelihood of an unwanted pregnancy. Looking at your body, he couldn’t imagine you were capable of carrying life in your current state. 

“What do you mean, little Omega? You haven’t had a heat in a year? Or longer?” Shanks asked. He knew you were scared and upset, but he and Hongo needed to know this information, it was part of the way they would take care of you. He gently turned your face towards his, forcing you to look up at him. You finally looked at his face, though you didn’t meet his eyes. You shook your head again.

“Tell me more, I need to know how to help you,” Shanks prompted, stroking your cheek. You sucked in a shaky breath, trying to gather yourself before speaking.

“Never,” you said in a hoarse whisper. Shanks recognized the voice from the laughter in the wake of battle.

“Never? What do you mean? This would be your first heat?” Hongo asked incredulously. Shanks hadn’t met another Omega, but it was known that they typically had their first heat cycle in their upper teens. 

You nodded, a tear running down your cheek. 

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] epilogue

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, FWB to QPR

ch. summary: together you make a new start.

wc: 2.6k

ch. warnings: no explicit content but there is some conversation about sex, i teared up while writing this; does that count as a warning?

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: what a fucking time we live in. take good care ♡

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, epilogue

“I think these are the last ones,” Wooyoung says, patting the stack of boxes next to him. “Did we get everything from your side?”

“Yeah, we emptied that out yesterday,” you say. “This… this is it.”

San hums thoughtfully, putting an arm around each of you. “End of an era isn’t it?”

The three of you stand by the doorway to the living area, looking over an empty, forlorn apartment.

Depressingly bare walls, furniture replaced by nostalgia. It doesn’t even look like anyone ever stayed here at all. The only concrete proof of your life here is the kitchen cabinet’s crooked door, busted when San hit his head so hard you’d worried he fractured his skull.

Even now, face to face with the empty room, it feels surreal to leave it all behind. No more paper-thin walls, no clumsily bumping into each other in the cramped kitchenette, no more sneaking through the building’s hallway in the early mornings or late nights.

Suddenly every small inconvenience is filtered through the rose-coloured lens of sentimentality, like they’re something to be treasured. Maybe they are. The little imperfections that brought texture to the flavourful sweetness of everything good.

All three of you take a moment, keenly aware you’re saying goodbye to the space where you collided into them; collided, and then intertwined. There’s a lot here to be grateful for.

Wooyoung is the one to break the spell. He nods his head with a big sigh, like he's bracing himself. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, matching his sigh. “Just one more thing left to do here, right?”

San and Wooyoung divide the boxes between them; you are already holding a large flower bouquet. It’s time for your final goodbye in this building.

Together, you take the elevator down one floor, then walk over to the apartment placed directly underneath yours. You ring the doorbell, and it does not take long before Mrs Yoon opens the door.

“Oh? Oh! It’s you kids!” The crinkles in her face deepen into a wide smile, and she curiously eyes the boxes. “Today is the big day then, hm?”

San bows his head politely. “We’re officially moved out, yes,” he says, a tinge of red across his cheeks. “Um. Sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused.”

“Nonsense,” she scolds. “No trouble at all, I’m sad to see you go. It’ll be so quiet around here without you!”

The redness on San’s face intensifies but Wooyoung just giggles, immune to Mrs Yoon’s light teasing. “Still, we didn’t want to go without getting you a little something,” Wooyoung says, “a thank you for putting up with us!”

“Ahh, Wooyoungie, you shouldn’t have!” Mrs Yoon coos adoringly over him like he’s her favourite grandson, lovingly pinching his cheeks. She lets out a small gasp of surprise when you hand the flowers over to her. “These are for me? Really?”

“Really,” you say. “It’s the least we could do!”

The bouquet looks comically huge in her tiny arms, almost drowning her in camellias and hydrangeas; but Mrs Yoon just beams with delight, taking a deep whiff of the sweet aromas. Even with the flowers, she still manages to reach for your cheek, patting it in gratitude.

“Wishing you and your friends all the best in your new home, sweetie,” she says warmly. “Feel free to drop by if you’re ever back in the neighbourhood.”

“We will, Mrs Yoon,” you promise, a pleasant glow in your chest at the word ‘friends’. “Thank you for looking out for us.”

The three of you part ways with Mrs Yoon, regretfully declining an invitation to come inside for a cup of tea. Your new home waits for you.

The new apartment is not too far from the old place, just a short ride away. Wooyoung is driving the car that Yunho was gracious enough to lend you, and you’re next to him in the front seat, his hand resting casually on your thigh. San is behind you, leaned forward with his chin on the backrest while he sweetly hums along to some romantic pop-song on the radio.

You bask in the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the window, smiling at San’s smooth voice while your hand rests on top of Wooyoung’s. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. Outside the car, your surroundings slowly grow less and less familiar, though you know that’ll come with time. You look forward to it.

Finally you reach the compex’s underground parking lot where Wooyoung neatly parks Yunho’s car. You unload the boxes, and find the elevators after a brief moment of disorientation.

You’re not on the top floor this time, but this building is taller so you’re still up higher than before. Finally you exit the elevator, and nostalgia is pushed back in favour of excitement as you walk over to your front door. One single door, for all three of you.

(Of course, you practically lived together already anyway, but it still feels different like this. More solid. Words and promises of long-term commitment transformed into tangible fact.)

You type in the freshly memorised code into the keypad, and the door opens.

The apartment is bigger and nicer than your old place; it’d be far too expensive for you alone, but that’s the practical benefit of splitting rent three ways. It’s still a mess, of course, unpacked boxes all over the place, but already you can see glimpses what it’s going to be, the home you’ll make out of this cluttered chaos.

Already there’s a small bustle of friends moving around the place, helping you to settle in. Even Hongjoong took time off, standing in the (significantly larger) kitchenette with a puzzled expression as he goes through one of the boxes.

You make a beeline towards him, and Hongjoong grins as you approach, making a show of groaning in annoyance when you lay a bear-hug on him.

“What kind of highbrow culinary types did you move in with? I don’t even know what half of these are,” he sighs, toying with a basic garlic press as he glances at the wide array of appliances strewn on the kitchen island. “Makes me feel like I’m not adulting right.”

“It’s alright, not all of us can be kitchen princesses. That’s Wooyoung’s purview,” you joke.

Hongjoong snorts. “Is that your way of saying you also don’t know what half of these are?”

“Pff, don’t lump me in with you. I know at least three quarters of them.”

“Wow, impressive! Let me know when you earn your first Michelin Star.”

He grins when you playfully elbow him in the side, and together you unpack the rest of the box, enjoying the bustle of activity around you.

A few people are walking back and forth, sorting out boxes and putting them in the right place. Seonghwa and Yeosang have taken up most of the floorspace to assemble a large bookcase, looking somewhat bamboozled by the instructions. San is setting out Byeol’s things already, even though she’ll stay at his sister’s as a guest until you’re all settled in.

He wrestles with putting her climbing tree back together when a sudden flash of light distracts him; Wooyoung has grabbed his camera. To do a little documenting of the event, he claims.

“Wooyoung-ssi,” Yeosang says pointedly, “aren’t you just avoiding having to do any real work?”

“Come on, it’s important to save some memories of today!” Wooyoung says enthusiastically, utterly undeterred by his oldest friend’s scepticism. Instead he snaps a quick shot of Yeosang instead, who instantly shields his face. This only escalates into Wooyoung trying to take a selfie with Yeosang, which escalates into him trying to land a smooch on Yeosang’s cheek.

You watch their shenanigans with a wide, bright smile, and Hongjoong watches you with a thoughtful expression in turn.

“So…” he says in a slow drawl. “What was that you once told me? That you got nothing ‘involved’ going on with these guys?”

Heat flares up on your face. “Shut up,” you mumble, embarrassed at the reminder of how deeply in denial you used to be. Let’s face it; San and Wooyoung had firmly pulled you into their orbit from the very start.

Hongjoong chuckles and pats your shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you were right about the most important thing.”

You give him a confused look. “?”

His eyes soften, a crooked smile on his face. “That I didn’t have to worry about you.”

You swallow thickly, a sudden lump in your throat at his sincerity. “Yeah? Well don’t think that means you’re off the hook for our irregularly scheduled videocalls,” you joke awkwardly, prodding him in the side again. “It’s not like the guys replaced you or something. I still want my bestie too.”

“Good!” he chuckles. “Anyway, they couldn’t if they tried. I’m pretty irreplaceable.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you laugh, whapping him on the shoulder.

You try to continue unpacking the kitchen supplies; but you soon get distracted when Yunho struggles to carry a gigantic potted plant, and you realise he’s about to set it down in the living area.

“Yunho wait, hang on! That goes outside!”

You abandon Hongjoong to guide Yunho out to the modestly sized balcony.

“Here, here,” you usher him to a corner, where the plant will provide some nice shade and privacy.

Yunho sighs in relief when he can set the heavy pot down, stretching his back with a low groan as he stands upright again. He looks around curiously, looking around the balcony. It’s not much, with just some old garden furniture that Wooyoung’s parents ‘donated’ to you, but the plant makes a good start to cosy it up properly.

“Huh. Hadn’t been out here yet,” he says, putting his hands on the metal railing to lean forward and take in the view. “It’s nice.”

Your eyes get momentarily distracted by how his long fingers curl around the handrail, but then you tear your gaze away and look out over the neighbourhood together. It’s mostly other apartment complexes, but there’s a big park with plenty of greenery and a pond nearby too, next to a busy kids’ playground.

“Yeah,” you agree with a wistful smile. “Really nice.”

You glance at Yunho again. All the initial awkwardness between you has faded by now; San, Wooyoung and him were eager to make up for lost time, so he’s been around quite a bit. You don’t mind. You like Yunho.

(Not just because he has distracting hands. He’s every bit as funny and dependable as your first impression led you to believe. It didn’t take long for you to grow just as fond of Yunho as the guys are.)

“And if you think about it, I got you to thank for it all!” you joke, grinning at Yunho. “Really, if you hadn’t played cupid, I wouldn’t have ended up here.”

Yunho blinks in confusion. “Cupid?”

“Yeah? You set San and Wooyoung up, right? San told me you played matchmaker.”

“……Huh. That is what San thinks I was doing?” He lets out an awkward, breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.

“You weren’t?” You frown at Yunho. “But you introduced them, right?”

“Y-Yeah, but— Never mind,” he says, his ears going red. “It’s not important.”

You give him a stubborn look. “Um. No. No, you can’t leave me hanging there. What’s not important?”

Yunho sees the look in your eyes, and after a long moment he gives a slow nod and straightens up. He glances at the open balcony door, but nobody inside is paying you any particular mind.

He leans forward, conspiratorially, dropping his voice low. The secrecy is causing your heart to bump faster in your chest; what the hell happened?

“Okay so, uh. No, I didn’t set them up,” Yunho says. “Sure, I’m really happy that it worked out so well for them, but… no, I just meant to test the waters for a bit, to see if things clicked between us, and then… I could see if they were interest in doing… other stuff together.”

“Stuff?” you ask — but the redness of Yunho’s ears deepens, and a lightbulb turns on in your head. “Wait,” you hiss, lowering your own voice as you lean even closer to him. “You introduced them to have a threesome? And they started dating instead??”

“Basically, yeah!” he chuckles awkwardly. “And really, it’s no big deal, I’m happy to see my friends happy. I saw the way they hit it off, figured I’d give them some space to figure things out. Thought I could always pitch the idea later — well, until Wooyoung told me San wanted to be monogamous.”

“Oh god,” you say, growing more and more aghast as your brain works overtime, linking up all the dots Yunho is throwing at you. “And then San asked you for advice about me.”

“Yeah, I’ll admit it — that one stung!” he laughs, about five percent pained. The last lingering hints of a grudge still holding on.

“I bet it did, fuck I’m so sorry—”

“Not your fault,” Yunho says, patting your shoulder with a reassuring smile.

You puff out a flustered burst of air, and shake off your embarrassment. Yeah, he’s right. This isn’t your fault. “…Is it weird that I’m kind of offended on your behalf?” you say with an awkward grin (god this is all so awkward). “Like, I know San and Wooyoung can be a bit oblivious, especially when they get stuck in each other’s little lovestruck tunnel vision, but seriously? They never realised??”

“Eh,” Yunho shrugs. “It’s on me too, I misjudged. Clearly shouldn’t have taken the subtle approach.”

You snort. “Okay yeah, maybe it’s a little on you too. The subtle approach? For those two?”

“Hey! Whatcha talking about?” San says out of nowhere, poking his head around the doorway like a devil who has belatedly realised someone spoke of him. “Thought I heard my name!”

You freeze instantly and fumble for an answer. “Uuhhhhhhh…”

Wooyoung’s head pokes out from behind San’s broad shoulders. “Hm? Are you guys gossiping about us?”

“Umm…………”

But Yunho just lets out a dry chuckle, unfazed by the interruption. “Yeah, actually,” he says with an easygoing smile. “I was just telling her that I never meant to play matchmaker for you two.”

“You didn’t?” San asks in surprise. “I thought…”

“I know,” Yunho interrupts him, not unkindly. “But no, I was trying to set us for a threesome.”

A deep, deep silence falls that strikes even Wooyoung.

He’s just staring at Yunho wide-eyed, the gears in his head ground to a complete halt. San has gone full crimson in the cheeks, putting Yunho’s faintly red ears to shame.

“What?” Yunho laughs when he sees your surprised face. “You said it yourself; no room for subtlety with these two. It was bound to come out sometime anyway. No time like the present.”

“You know what? Fair,” you say, relaxing back into a laugh of your own.

“W-wait, you what??” San finally stammers out.

Yunho casually leans his side against the balcony railing, shrugging at San. “Is it really that big a surprise, coming from me?”

Wooyoung’s shock has slowly morphed into a thoughtful expression as the gears in his head come back into motion. Keen interest shines in his eyes as he looks back-and-forth from San’s flustered blush to you and Yunho, grinning at each other.

“So uh,” Wooyoung says, mischief creeping into the curve of his crooked smile, “…is having sex together still on the table?”

final notes: yes, i am planning to do a one-shot sequel lol. you are getting that yunwoosan foursome smut scene <3 originally it was part of the epilogue, but i decided it works better as its own, separate thing

but this still is the end of the main series, the story of Woosan & reader coming together, and i am a big ball of emotion over it asdkjdsajk. thankyou for reading my fic, and for all the incredibly kind words i’ve received; this was a very special, personal project to me, and i hope it gave you some good times ♡

[hynzsn]

💭 SUGAR DADDY ★

☆ lee sangyeon x male reader 18+ MDNI

-> sugar daddy!sangyeon x sugar baby!reader

꩜ .ᐟ smut, headcanons

contents: rough sex, brat taming, gentle sex, hickeys, spanking, pulling hair, doting, showing off, dressing up, hugging, scratching, public sex, bdsm, bondage, dollification, bragging, dominant!sangyeon x submissive!reader, voyeurism, obsession

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

✮⋆˙ he enjoys dressing you up like his little doll and purchasing you more clothing, shoes, and accessories than you could possibly fathom.

✮⋆˙ he enjoys bringing you to every business event he attends in order to show you off and boast about you to his pompous colleagues.

✮⋆˙ he likes to hug you in his arms and bury his nose in your hair while inhaling the fresh aroma of your shampoo.

✮⋆˙ he loves to shower you with affection and indulges your every need.

✮⋆˙ he adores you with a passion that borders on obsession.

✮⋆˙ he enjoys taking you out to dinner, exclusively dining at five-star restaurants, and purchasing you whatever you want from the menu.

✮⋆˙ he enjoys brat-taming you! give him all the attitude you want, he'll just fuck it out of you later.

✮⋆˙ he enjoys fucking you gently and lovingly after you've been a good boy.

"daddy's so happy, you've been such a good boy to me today." "do you feel daddy's love, baby?" "daddy will never stop loving you, my sweet baby." "who's my good boy, huh?"

✮⋆˙ he takes your face and makes you look him in the eyes while he fucks you.

“look at daddy, baby.” “let me see those pretty eyes, let me see the love you have for me in them.” “you’re so cute, baby. you look so cute when you’re on my cock.”

✮⋆˙ he enjoys fucking you relentlessly when you've been a bad boy, as well as whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

"you’re such a good doll.” “taking daddy's dick feels good, doesn't it, baby?" "tell daddy you are sorry, baby. let me hear you scream for daddy."

✮⋆˙ the next day, he will take you on shopping sprees or deposit a large sum of money into your account as a reward for taking his cock so nicely.

✮⋆˙ he will take you out to buy clothes only to fuck you in the changing rooms. his hand covers your mouth to prevent being caught. sure, he can rent entire stores and have simply you and him inside, but where's the pleasure in that?

✮⋆˙ he takes great joy in stroking every area of your body and seeing the reaction he gets.

✮⋆˙ he likes brutal sex. pulling your hair, scratching you, or having you dig your nails into his skin, spanking your ass until you beg him to stop, pinching, or applying nipple clamps to your already sensitive nipples.

✮⋆˙ he enjoys watching you jerk off at the sight of him.

"look at daddy, baby." "am i turning you on?" "do you want daddy to take over? beg for it."

✮⋆˙ he enjoys tying you up, watching you tied and defenseless while he asserts his dominance over you.

✮⋆˙ he enjoys fucking you until your legs tremble violently; even then, he does not stop, pulling you into his arms, as you grasp onto him for dear life.

✮⋆˙ he enjoys leaving hickeys all over your body, and he will dress you up and take you out in outfits that highlight those lovely hickeys.

✮⋆˙ he considers you more than just a sugar baby; you're his muse, his confidante, his most treasured possession, his everything.

[seospicybin]

NEPTUNE.

Hyunjin x reader. (s,a)

Synopsis: In a distant future where an app can predict your death, a retired dancer and an ambitious swimmer cross path by chance. With their final day looming, they choose to share it together, finding unexpected connection in the fleeting hours they have left. (19,6k words)

Author's note: With this fic, I hope that you get to realize that no matter how small your achievement is, it matters. You are matter. Happy new year, everyone! ❣

In the distant future, death isn’t a mystery. It’s an appointment.

It started with a breakthrough—an algorithm said to be so precise it could predict the exact day someone would die. Governments called it progress, a tool to manage the chaos of an overburdened planet. They named it Mortem. What they didn’t expect was how quickly the app would seep into the fabric of life.

People stopped planning for the long term. Relationships became fleeting, careers lost their permanence, and calendars filled with expiration dates. Death notifications became part of the noise—just another alert blinking alongside weather updates and dinner reservations.

But Mortem wasn’t perfect. It couldn’t tell you the when—only the day. That meant hours, minutes, or fleeting seconds could separate you from the end. For some, it was a mercy. For others, a torment.

Tonight, the city pulses with quiet tension, as it always does. Neon lights flicker against a backdrop of endless skyscrapers, their glass walls reflecting a future built on progress and control. Somewhere, phones buzz softly, notifying their owners of an unchangeable truth: Tomorrow is your last day.

For those who receive the message, there are choices to make. Will they cling to the comforts of routine, pretending the day ahead is like any other? Or will they seek something different—a chance to hold onto life for just a little longer?

Two strangers will soon find themselves asking that same question. Their lives have never crossed before, but by the time tomorrow ends, they will have shared something no one else can understand.

-

5:00 a.m.

The alarm pierces the early morning silence, jolting Hwang Hyunjin awake. With practiced ease, he silences it, sitting on the edge of his bed as he stretches his long arms. His back arches slightly, muscles awakening as he bends forward to gather his thoughts.

The world outside is still cloaked in darkness, but Hyunjin is already lacing up his running shoes. A quick double knot secures them before he presses play on his playlist, music flooding his ears and sharpening his focus.

The crisp, cool morning air greets him as he steps outside. It stings against his skin, but he welcomes it, inhaling deeply as he begins to run. His strides are steady, powerful, each one cutting against the wind. His long, dark hair bounces with the rhythm of his movement, dampened slightly by the early morning mist.

After completing his route, Hyunjin stops by his favorite bakery, where the warm aroma of freshly baked bread envelops him. He orders his usual: a selection of warm pastries and a steaming cup of coffee to go. Back at his apartment, he settles by the window, the city stirring to life beyond the glass. He takes slow bites of his breakfast, sipping his coffee as the first golden rays of sunlight paint the skyline.

It’s moments like this, quiet and unassuming, that he treasures most. They remind him of the beauty in simplicity, grounding him before the demands of the day.

By ten o’clock, Hyunjin arrives at the training center, his focus razor-sharp. He begins with a grueling gym session, pushing his limits to strengthen his arms and back. The burn in his muscles is a familiar companion, one he embraces with resolve. Sweat drips down his chin as he finishes his final set, his determination unwavering.

But this is only the beginning.

Hyunjin steps into the aquatic center, the sharp scent of chlorine filling his lungs. In the locker room, he changes into a sleek pair of swimming briefs.

"How are you feeling, my man?" A friendly pat on his back pulls him from his thoughts.

"Excellent," he replies confidently, catching his reflection in the mirror as he adjusts his swim cap. His friend's grin widens, sensing the energy radiating off him.

"What's your current record?"

"For the 100 or the 200 medley?" Hyunjin asks, slipping the last strands of his hair beneath the cap."You know which one I'm asking."

"47.12." A proud smile curves his lips.

"Bet you can take it to 46 today," his friend challenges, tossing his shoes into his locker.

The words hang in the air, lighting a spark in Hyunjin. He doesn’t need the push—he’s already determined—but the encouragement fuels his fire.

Hyunjin steps onto the pool deck, his reflection shimmering on the surface of the water. Memories of his younger self flicker in his mind, the boy who first discovered the joy of being in the water. Back then, it felt like another world—quiet, weightless, serene.

That love hasn’t faded.

He dips a hand into the pool, splashing the cold water onto the back of his neck. It’s a small ritual, an anchor before the dive. His goggles are snug against his face, a protective barrier between him and the world above.

Hyunjin climbs onto the starting block, his heart steady, his goal clear. He holds the current record in the 100-meter freestyle, but today isn’t about records or accolades. It’s about pushing himself to the edge, chasing a version of himself he’s yet to meet.

The whistle shrieks, and Hyunjin dives.

The water welcomes him, enveloping him in its familiar embrace. Each stroke propels him forward, every kick slicing through the resistance. His body moves in perfect harmony, years of training reducing the act to instinct.

To Hyunjin, the sky isn’t the limit—it’s just the beginning. And soon, he knows, he won’t just swim among the clouds. He’ll soar beyond them.

-

8:02 a.m.

The studio is quiet, save for the soft creak of polished wood beneath your bare feet. Sunlight streams through the high windows, casting long beams across the mirrored walls. You breathe in the familiar scent of resin and faintly worn leather, grounding yourself in this sacred space.

This is how you always start your mornings: alone, warming up in the quiet before the day begins. It’s a small luxury, one you’ve come to cherish in a world that feels anything but certain.

You stand in the center of the room, your reflection poised and still. Slowly, you move through the routine, arms lifting, legs extending, muscles lengthening with every step. The rhythm flows from memory—an old habit, a comfort that never falters.

Then, it happens.

A sharp ping breaks through the silence, echoing off the walls.

You freeze mid-pirouette, your balance wavering. Across the room, your phone sits on the bench, its screen lit up with a single notification. For a moment, you don’t move. It’s not unusual for your phone to chime—messages from parents, reminders for classes—but something about the sound feels heavier this time.

You exhale, lowering your arms. Whatever it is can wait. You’ve always finished what you started, and today will be no different.

You push forward, completing the warm-up with careful precision. The movements are second nature, your body carrying you through muscle memory. But there’s a weight in the air now, and with each step, your focus frays a little more.

Finally, you stop.

The studio falls silent again as you walk toward the bench. Your pulse quickens when you see the notification’s source: Mortem.

You stare at it, your breath catching in your chest. The app sits there, waiting, the message unread. Tomorrow is your last day. Is that what it will say? Or will it be another date, far off in the future?

For a moment, you consider turning away. Dancing has always been your escape, your solace. Maybe one more routine will help you clear your mind.

You step back toward the center of the studio, muscles coiled and ready to begin again. But something stops you. A voice, faint but insistent, whispers at the edge of your thoughts: Face it.

Your hands tremble as you pick up the phone. You swipe the screen, heart pounding in your ears, and open the notification.

Your eyes lock onto the date, and for a moment, everything freezes. Confusion flickers in your chest, followed by the sharp pang of disbelief. You’d told yourself you were ready for this, that the day would come eventually, but seeing it spelled out so plainly shakes you.

And then, as quickly as it came, the chaos fades. You take a deep breath, grounding yourself as you’ve done countless times before. The truth is undeniable, and no amount of fear will change it.

You’ve made your peace with death. You always knew it would come soon. And now, soon is here.

-

3:22 p.m.

Dahlias.

Your mother’s favorite flowers. They stand out vividly against the muted tones of the hospital’s inpatient ward, clutched close to your chest as you make your way to her room.

It started with an ache—sharp and unrelenting—but she didn’t see a doctor until the nausea and loss of appetite became impossible to ignore. Six months ago, the diagnosis came: stage 3 pancreatic cancer. The doctor gave her six months to a year to live, and with every agonizing moment, you’ve come to understand why she wishes the end would hurry along.

But the notification she hopes for never arrives.

“Honey, I haven’t gotten my notification yet,” she mutters the moment you step into her room. Her voice is flat, a mix of irritation and resignation, as her eyes glance at the flowers in your hands.

She’s always irritable after chemo, so you don’t let her tone sting. Instead, you walk to the sink, filling a vase with water.

After the nurse checks her IV and blood pressure, you’re left alone with her. The silence isn’t new, but it feels heavier today.

“They said six months. Why am I still here?” she groans, struggling to adjust her pillow.

You hurry to help, carefully setting the vase of dahlias on the bedside table. They brighten the room immediately.

“They’re beautiful,” she finally says, softening just a little.

“I’m glad you like them,” you reply with a faint smile.

Your mother has always lived with vivacity. She wasn’t one for small dreams; she lived a thousand of them. In her teens, she wanted to be a singer. By her twenties, fashion called her, leading to an internship at a fabric shop. There, she befriended a chef who inspired her to pursue culinary arts. It was during that chapter of her life that she met a classical musician—your father.

And you.

Her dreams shifted then, morphing into family and love, and for years, she poured herself into creating a home filled with warmth. When your father passed, she found a new dream: becoming a florist. She turned it into a thriving business.

Until six months ago.

“Are you eating well?” she asks suddenly, her concern for you breaking through her fatigue.

You nod. “Yes.”

“What did you eat this morning?”

It’s a routine question, part of her new reality where food tastes like nothing. Asking you lets her imagine the flavors she misses.

“I had cranberry ciabatta from the bakery across the street,” you lie gently.

She hums contentedly, closing her eyes. “They make the perfect ciabatta.”

“Mom,” you say softly, taking her frail hand in yours.

“Yes, my darling?”

“What would you cook for your last dinner?” You smile to hold back the lump in your throat.

Her face lights up, pleased by the question. She’s always loved sharing her stories, and now they’re all she has left to give.

“For an appetizer, I’d make eggplant croquettes,” she says with a teasing grin.

“Mom, not the eggplant,” you protest, wrinkling your nose.

Her laugh is weak but genuine. “Okay, okay. How about scampi bruschetta?”

“Now that’s more like it,” you say with exaggerated approval.

She closes her eyes, envisioning her creation. “With thyme and lemon. I’d toast the ciabatta for five minutes—just enough for a crunch—and sear the shrimp with olive oil and a pinch of salt. Then sauté spring onions with thyme, lemon zest, and honey. Acacia honey.”

As she speaks, her voice gains strength, her enthusiasm igniting memories of her former self. Between recipes, she slips in anecdotes, turning her imagined last meal into a tapestry of her life.

You hang on every word because you know these stories matter. They are her, distilled into moments you’ll carry forever.

And yet, the cruel irony doesn’t escape you.

You were supposed to be the one holding her hand at the end, not the other way around. The thought pierces through your heart as you sit there, smiling at her stories. She has spent six months longing for death, only for it to come for you first.

She deserves to rest, to find peace after everything she’s endured. You would have done anything to give her that. But the universe is merciless. It has flipped the natural order, leaving her with the unbearable task of outliving her child.

The injustice of it sits heavy in your chest, threatening to choke you. How is it fair that the one who wants to die must keep fighting, while you—her child—are robbed of the chance to live?

By the time she moves to selecting drinks, her eyelids grow heavy.

“You’re sleepy, Mom,” you whisper, smoothing the duvet around her.

She nods, offering a tired smile. “I’m just a little tired these days.”

You watch her closely, memorizing every line of her face, every glimmer in her weary eyes. “You look beautiful today.”

Her smile deepens, faint but radiant. “I know.”

“You’ve always been beautiful,” you add, unable to stop yourself.

She chuckles weakly. “I look good with cancer, huh?”

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, committing her image to memory.

As you stand to leave, her hand clasps yours, pulling it to her chest. For a moment, it rests there, and just when you think she’s asleep, she lifts her other hand to pat your head.

“You’re a superstar,” she whispers. “I adore you so much.”

Those were her bedtime words to you as a child, and now they hit deeper, wrapping around your heart with bittersweet comfort.

In her eyes, you will always be her child, no matter how much of the world you’ve seen or what you’ve become.

As she drifts to sleep, you kiss the back of her hand, releasing it gently. You take one last look at her before leaving the room.

This isn’t goodbye. It’s not the last mother-daughter moment, either, because in life and in death, she will always be your mother.

For you, death isn’t the opposite of life. It’s simply a part of it.

-

6:16 p.m.

“46.92!”

The words ring out in the humid air of the locker room as Hyunjin’s friend pats his back enthusiastically. They’re both standing under the shower, letting the day’s fatigue wash away.

“I see a gold medal in your near future,” his friend adds, grinning.

Hyunjin can’t stop the smile that creeps onto his face. The thought of victory is intoxicating, the image of standing atop the podium almost tangible. He can taste it—sweet, like honey.

“Beers? What do you think?” another teammate calls out as Hyunjin turns off his shower head.

For a moment, he’s tempted. He deserves it, doesn’t he? Breaking his personal record, getting closer to his dream—surely, a small celebration wouldn’t hurt.

But discipline pulls him back. His body is his temple, and the bread he allowed himself this morning was already a rare indulgence.

“Not tonight,” Hyunjin says, his tone polite but firm.

“Next time, then,” his friend replies easily, shrugging it off as he heads for the lockers.

The others filter out, their laughter and chatter fading down the hallway until silence envelops the space. Hyunjin is alone now, drying his damp hair with a towel. He moves methodically, packing his bag, folding his towel, tucking everything neatly into place.

When he pulls out his phone, a cluster of notifications greets him. Most are messages from his teammates—congratulations, plans for the weekend, harmless banter. He skims through them absentmindedly until one notification stops him cold.

It stands out like a blot of ink on an otherwise pristine page.

Mortem: Tomorrow is your last day.

For a moment, Hyunjin forgets to breathe. The locker room feels impossibly quiet, the white noise of the air conditioning fading into nothingness.

He reads the notification again, hoping—no, praying—that he’s misunderstood. But the words remain the same.

Hyunjin’s legs feel unsteady as he forces himself to move, his bag slipping from his shoulder as he stumbles toward the pool. He steps onto the edge, the scent of chlorine sharp in the air. The water is eerily still, reflecting the overhead lights in perfect symmetry.

He looks down at his reflection, and what he sees isn’t the confident, ambitious swimmer who broke his record earlier today.

It’s someone hollow. A boy with dreams just out of reach, crushed under the weight of a cruel truth.

His fists clench at his sides as anger rises in his chest, hot and unrelenting.

“FUCK YOU!” he screams, his voice tearing through the silence, reverberating across the chamber.

The sound ricochets off the walls, rippling across the surface of the water. His reflection distorts, breaking apart into fragments before settling again, unfamiliar and unkind.

They say death comes at the right time. A gentle visitor, arriving only when it’s supposed to.

But that’s a lie.

It doesn’t care about dreams or sacrifices. It doesn’t care that Hyunjin has spent years of his life in pursuit of one thing, pushing his body and mind to their limits.

It doesn’t care that he’s so close.

And now, when victory is within his grasp, it will take everything away.

He closes his eyes, chest heaving as he fights to steady his breathing. The rage doesn’t subside—it sits in his chest, a molten core of grief and frustration.

Hyunjin knows there’s nothing he can do to stop what’s coming. But for tonight, he lets himself curse the unfairness of it all, his voice echoing into the void until there’s nothing left but silence.

For Hyunjin, death is a thief.

-

7:22 p.m.

Alcohol is never your first choice. You’re not a fan of the bitter aftertaste or the burn as it slides down your throat. But tonight, you need something to dull the ache.

Your phone lies face-up on the bar, the notification glaring at you like a cruel joke. It’s accompanied by offers—a funeral service arrangement, a hotline for counseling.

You stare at the screen, unsure how to even begin processing it all. Sadness feels too small a word for the heap of emotions weighing you down. Beneath the sorrow lies a sliver of joy at the thought of not having to endure another day. And beneath that, a fragile sense of relief that it will soon be over.

How do you explain that to anyone? How do you untangle that mess of feelings, let alone share them with a therapist?

The bartender doesn’t ask. He doesn’t need to. Your sadness is written all over your face.

An hour passes, your drink long since gone, and you finally decide to leave. The bartender approaches, not with the check but with a bottle in hand.

“Here,” he says, taking your empty glass away.

You blink at him, confused. “I’m ready to pay—”

“I’m not taking your money,” he interrupts, pouring liquid from three different bottles into a pair of shot glasses with precise movements.

It clicks belatedly in your mind—some unspoken gesture, one you wouldn’t have recognized if you didn’t spend most of your nights at home.

“May I ask what this is?” you say, eyeing the amber liquid as he slides the shot glass toward you.

“The Three Wise Men,” he says with a faint smile.

“And who are they?”

“Johnnie Walker, Jim Beam, and Jack Daniels,” he explains, gesturing to the bottles on the counter.

“Ah...” A small laugh escapes you. “Very wise indeed.”

He lifts his shot glass, holding it up in a silent toast. “Ready?”

You hesitate, your hand wrapping around the glass. “Any tips for this?”

“Don’t think. Just swallow.”

You nod, mirroring his stance.

“To the three wise men,” he says.

“To the three wise men,” you repeat, exhaling before tipping the shot back. The liquid burns all the way down, leaving a warmth in its wake.

“Whoo...” the bartender exhales, slamming his glass upside down on the counter.

You mimic him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “That was…” You pause, laughing nervously. “…something.”

He chuckles, leaning on the counter as his gaze sweeps the bar. “They say you’re either living to die or dying to live.”

The room feels quieter for a moment as his words settle.

He sighs, his voice softening. “But you know what? I only pity the living.”

The statement strikes you in a way you can’t quite articulate. You don’t want to die, not really. But the thought of living, with all its weight, feels far worse.

“Another round?” he offers, holding up one of the bottles.

You shake your head. “No, thank you. I haven’t eaten dinner, so I don’t think that’s… wise.”

“See? You learned from these men,” he teases, capping the bottle with a grin.

You pull out your wallet, sliding a card toward him. “At least let me pay—”

He steps back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Use the money to buy yourself a nice dinner, okay?”

There’s no arguing with him, so you reluctantly tuck your card away. “Thank you,” you say softly, your voice heavier with gratitude than the words can carry.

He nods, his smile kind. “Hey, I needed that shot too.”

You rise from the stool, glancing back as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Have a great night.”

The bartender is busy with another order, but a few steps later, his voice calls out to you.

“See you on the other side,” he says, raising a hand in farewell.

For a moment, you pause, then nod, offering a faint wave before stepping out into the night.

-

7:45 p.m.

There's nowhere to go.

You’ve been walking aimlessly since leaving the bar, letting your feet lead the way. Your hands are stuffed into your jacket pockets as you stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn green. The thought of returning to your apartment, where silence lingers like an unwelcome guest, feels unbearable.

You could visit your mother again, but the idea of seeing her only to leave her forever—it's too much to handle.

There are so many things you want to do, yet none of them feel right.

The light finally turns green, and you step off the curb. But before you can take another step, something grabs your shoulders and pulls you back. A motorcycle speeds past, narrowly missing you.

Your mind goes blank. Instead of your life flashing before your eyes, everything shuts down for a moment.

"Come on!" a voice urges. A hand takes yours, pulling you across the street just as the light turns red again.

You don’t realize what just happened until you’re safely on the other side. Someone has just saved you. If they hadn’t stopped you, that motorcycle might have dragged your body halfway down the street.

You turn to look at your savior and freeze. He’s beautiful—stunning, even—and for a moment, you’re speechless.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle but tinged with concern.

His words snap you out of your daze, and you hurriedly compose yourself. "Yeah, I’m sorry, I was—"

"No, no, it’s not your fault. That motorcycle ran the light," he interrupts, shaking his head.

Why are you apologizing? You should be thanking him. But when you look at him, the words catch in your throat, so you glance away. "Thank you… for, uh, earlier," you manage to say.

He smiles, and his eyes curve along with it, warm and genuine. But then his next words take you by surprise.

"Your death isn’t today, right? I’m pretty sure it said tomorrow."

You freeze again, alarm bells ringing in your head. How does he know that? You take a step back, suddenly wary.

Realizing he’s scared you, he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I’m sorry—I should’ve explained first."

He lowers his hands and exhales before continuing, "I was in the bar earlier. I accidentally saw the notification on your phone when I was getting my drink. And then I followed you..." He grimaces. "Wait, that makes me sound like a creep."

He stops rambling and pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, tapping the screen until it lights up. He turns it toward you, revealing a notification identical to yours.

His death is tomorrow, too.

"I guess we’re doomed, huh?" he says with a shrug, his tone oddly lighthearted.

You’re at a loss for words, staring at the screen and then at him. How is it possible that someone like him—this beautiful, radiant man—is doomed?

He puts his phone away and looks at you earnestly. "I know this is sudden, and random, and... probably really weird. But do you want to have dinner with me?"

It is sudden, random, and undeniably strange. But as you look at him—this stranger who saved your life—one thought crosses your mind: What’s the worst that could happen?

You’re going to be dead in a matter of hours anyway.

"Okay," you say.

-

08:10 p.m.

The two of you decide to walk to dinner, hands tucked into your jacket pockets, his adjusting his beanie every few steps. He finally breaks the silence as you pass the second block from where you met.

"I'm Hyunjin, by the way," he says.

You glance at him and give your name in return. When you expect the exchange to end, he extends his hand, and you shake it, feeling the chill of his skin against yours. His long fingers, adorned with rings, seem oddly delicate.

"Nice to meet you," he says with a small smile, pulling his hand back to adjust his beanie again.

“So... when did you get your notification?” he asks after a beat.

“This morning,” you reply, freeing your hands from your pockets now that the silence has been broken. “You?”

He tilts his head back slightly, lips pressing into a thin line. “Two hours ago.”

A strange feeling of unease stirs inside you, but he doesn’t let the conversation falter. “How do you feel about all this?”

“All this?” you echo.

He nods, waiting for your response. You search for the words, trying to name the whirlwind of emotions you’ve carried since the moment you opened that notification.

“I feel... alright, I guess.”

Hyunjin stops mid-step, turning to look at you with incredulity. “Alright?”

You shrug, unsure how to elaborate.

“You’re not angry? At all?” His tone sharpens, his brow furrowing in disbelief.

Angry? That hadn’t crossed your mind. There’s an odd peace in accepting what you can’t control, a clarity you never expected. You shake your head. “No.”

His eyes darken, and he mutters, “Well, I am.” He starts walking again, this time faster, his strides growing wide and purposeful.

“I’m livid,” he says through gritted teeth. “If death had a face, I’d punch it.”

You pick up your pace to match his, almost jogging, until he notices and abruptly halts.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his frustration dissolving into concern.

You nod, panting slightly.

He chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. “Sorry, I tend to walk fast when I’m angry.”

The two of you fall into a slower, more deliberate pace, hands swinging at your sides. You want to ask what exactly makes him so angry, but before you can, he stops again.

“We’re here,” he announces, holding the door open for you.

You step inside and immediately feel out of place. The restaurant is elegant, full of people dressed to the nines. Self-consciousness creeps up your spine, and you spin around to look at him—only to bump into his chest.

“Sorry,” you mumble, looking down.

Hyunjin steadies you with a firm grip on your shoulders. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, stepping back to stand behind him.

“Table for two, please,” he tells the hostess.

She leads you to a table by a large window overlooking the city, the full moon casting a gentle glow over the skyline. As she places menus in front of you, Hyunjin mutters a polite thank-you, his attention already elsewhere.

You glance at him as he removes his jacket, folding it neatly over the back of his chair. He seems unbothered by the setting, completely at ease. He flips open the menu, his eyes scanning the options.

“Any ideas on what to have?” he asks, glancing up at you.

You fumble to open your menu, pretending to read it while avoiding his gaze. Finally, you lean forward and whisper, “Don’t you think we’re underdressed?”

He gasps dramatically, as if your words remind him of something crucial. Tugging off his beanie, his dark hair tumbles down, slightly damp and shiny, framing his small face. He ruffles it quickly, then shrugs.

“Steak? Pizza? Pasta?” he suggests, ignoring your question entirely.

You hesitate. When he offered to take you to dinner, you’d imagined a casual spot, maybe a pizza joint or noodle bar. Not this. And while you’re trying not to think about money, the menu’s prices make your stomach turn.

“I think we should go somewhere else,” you say quietly, your eyes darting over the options.

“Why?”

“It’s... too expensive.”

Hyunjin laughs, low and amused. “Do you think I can’t afford it?”

You shake your head frantically. “No, no, that’s not what I meant—”

“I’m kidding,” he interrupts with a grin. Leaning forward, he drops his voice to a whisper. “Honestly? I can probably only afford a plate of pasta and garlic bread.”

Your eyes widen, but his sly smile makes it clear he’s joking again.

“Good thing we’ve got the pity card,” he says, leaning back with a nonchalant shrug.

You freeze, reminded of the pity card. It’s a small perk that comes with the notification—a free pass to almost anything, covered by taxes. A gesture from the system to say, “Sorry you’re dying soon—here’s a little something.”

But the thought of using it makes your skin crawl.

“No,” you say, shaking your head firmly. “Not the pity card.”

“Why not?”

You struggle to explain. “It just... feels wrong. I don’t want their pity.”

Hyunjin raises a brow. “Who cares? We’ll be dead in a few hours.”

Before you can respond, a waiter approaches to pour water and set down a plate of bread. Hyunjin thanks them softly, then turns back to you.

“It’s not like we’re taking their pity with us to the grave,” he says, lifting his glass. “So, what do you say?”

You glance at the clock on the wall. Four hours left. Soon, none of this—money, pity, pride—will matter.

“We only die once, right?” you say, lifting your glass awkwardly.

Hyunjin laughs, his grin lighting up his face. “We only die once,” he echoes, clinking his glass against yours.

-

8:20 p.m.

You're not much of a conversationalist, so Hyunjin takes it upon himself to break the silence, his curiosity about you driving him forward. He has a myriad of questions on his mind but decides to start simple.

"May I ask what you do?"

His question makes you look up at him, and after a moment's hesitation, you place your hands under the table and answer with a sheepish smile, "I'm a ballet instructor."

The pieces click into place for him—the flowy skirt, black tights, and your hair tied neatly into a bun.

"So, you're a ballerina," Hyunjin remarks, nodding thoughtfully.

"I was," you correct him softly.

He tilts his head, his brows furrowing slightly. "Was?"

"I'm retired," you say briefly, offering another shy smile.

Hyunjin blinks in confusion. Retired? You seem far too young for that. "May I ask why?"

You adjust the cutlery in front of you, your hand steady despite the weight of your words. "I got into an accident a couple of years ago. I badly injured my leg, and the doctor insisted I stop dancing if I wanted to keep walking..." Your voice trails off, and your lips curve into a sad smile as you avert your gaze.

The weight of your story hits him. He can empathize with the sense of loss; after all, his situation is eerily similar. You had to give up your passion because of an accident, while he faces an abrupt end because of the ticking clock. Both of you are here, grappling with the unfairness of it all on what could be your final hours.

"It's like that saying," you continue, "‘Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach.’ So that’s what I’m doing now." You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and flash him a reassuring smile, but Hyunjin isn’t convinced. He recognizes the facade; he’s worn it himself.

"And you're not mad about it?" he asks, fully aware he might be treading into private territory.

"I was, for a long time. But eventually, I realized there’s no point in drowning myself in anger."

This time, your smile is different—genuine, even serene. It’s as if you’ve made peace with the cruelty of life, embracing it with quiet strength. Hyunjin admires it, though he knows how hard it must’ve been for you to reach that place.

He takes a breath and shifts the conversation, sensing the need to lighten the mood. "So, you’re teaching at a dance company?"

"A dance academy," you correct him with a nod. "I teach girls between the ages of seven and sixteen."

He can picture it easily—you, guiding a room full of eager young dancers, patient and warm. You probably make their favorite teacher list without even trying.

"And what about you?" you ask, lifting your glass of water for a sip.

"I'm an athlete," he replies.

"Ah..." you murmur, intrigued. "What sport?"

"Take a guess," he says with a playful grin, leaning back in his seat.

Your laughter fills the air, and you give him a once-over, your eyes narrowing as you search for clues. After a moment of deliberation, you venture, "You’re tall and lean so... basketball?."

Hyunjin chuckles, pleased with the compliment but shakes his head. "Nope."

You purse your lips in thought. "Soccer?"

"I like soccer," he admits, leaning forward, "but that’s not it."

You groan in mock defeat, covering your face with your hands. "I’m terrible at this!"

Hyunjin laughs, finding your reaction endearing. "I’m a swimmer," he reveals.

Your eyes widen in surprise. "That’s amazing!"

"I was scouted for the national team," he says, a hint of pride in his voice. "I was supposed to compete this summer."

The realization of his words hits him mid-sentence, and the excitement drains from his face. Summer is two months away—a future he knows he won’t see.

"That’s incredible," you say gently, your empathetic smile offering comfort.

Just then, the waiter arrives with the menus, saving the atmosphere from slipping into melancholy.

"Would you like to order some wine?" the waiter asks, presenting a list.

You scan the menu and suggest, "I think I’ll have white wine."

Hyunjin glances over the options, muttering to himself, "Vanilla and peach... sounds nice."

"Viognier, sir?" the waiter recommends.

Hyunjin looks to you for approval, and your small nod seals the deal. "We’ll have that," he says.

The wine arrives alongside your meals, and the two of you fall into a rhythm of eating, sipping, and conversing between bites.

"How long have you been swimming?" you ask.

"Since I was eight," he replies, pausing to take a sip of wine.

"Wow. I didn’t even realize I wanted to be a ballerina until I was twelve," you admit.

He’s struck by how much more at ease you seem now, whether it’s the wine or simply warming up to him. "What did you want to be before that?"

"A lot of things. An astronaut, a doctor, a ventriloquist..." You pause, your cheeks flushing with a laugh. "A vampire slayer."

Hyunjin bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really wanted to be everything."

"My mom broke my heart when she said I couldn’t be a vampire slayer," you say, your expression deadly serious.

"Honestly? I’d be sad too," he jokes, grinning.

You lean in, lowering your voice as if sharing a secret. "Then she told me this: ‘It’s okay if you can’t achieve your dream. You can always go back to sleep and live a new dream.’"

Your laughter carries across the table, and Hyunjin smiles faintly, though the sentiment hits too close to home. Finding a new dream is one thing—but having the time to chase it is another entirely.

You finish your meal and dab your lips with a napkin. "The academy I teach at isn’t far from here, just a few blocks away. I actually have to stop by to grab a few things."

You glance at him, your expression soft. "Do you want to come with me?"

The invitation catches him off guard, but the warmth behind it makes it impossible to refuse.

"I’d love to," Hyunjin answers, smiling. For a fleeting moment, he feels less alone in facing the inevitable—because now, at least, he has a friend.

-

09:15 p.m.

"We'd like to pay with this," Hyunjin slides his phone across the table to the waiter.

The waiter studies the screen for a moment. You can see the subtle shift in his expression as realization dawns—Hyunjin's pity card, stark proof of his limited time, is what he offers as payment. The waiter looks back at both of you, his eyes softening, probably assuming this is some kind of farewell dinner.

He forces a smile and says, "We'll process it right away."

Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you, a small grin tugging at his lips as if to say, Here it comes.

Sure enough, the waiter, taking a step away, turns back around and says solemnly, "We're very sorry."

Both of you burst into quiet laughter, your shared amusement breaking the gravity of the moment.

"That's one!" you tease, raising your coffee cup as if to toast.

When the waiter returns with Hyunjin's phone and the bill, his demeanor is still tinged with melancholy. As Hyunjin signs, the waiter fidgets slightly, clearly wrestling with unspoken words. In the end, all he offers is another subdued, "I'm very sorry."

You glance at Hyunjin with a smirk. "Two," you whisper under your breath.

The waiter departs, but not before the lady at the till calls after you as you're leaving. "Thank you, and we're very sorry."

The moment the door closes behind you, you and Hyunjin burst into unrestrained laughter.

"A hat trick!" he says, shaking his head, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

As you stroll to the academy, you find yourselves critiquing the meal like professional food critics, though the details blur in your slightly tipsy haze. The wine stands out—delicious enough that you’d kept asking for refills. Thankfully, the cool evening air helps clear your head by the time you reach the academy.

You unlock the studio door, the faint scent of wood polish and faint traces of rosin welcoming you. The dim overhead lights flicker on, casting a warm glow over the polished floor and mirrored walls. Hyunjin steps inside, his eyes widening as he takes in the space.

"This is where you work?" he asks, his voice tinged with awe.

You nod. "My second home."

Hyunjin walks around the room, his footsteps echoing softly against the floor. He pauses by the ballet barre, running his fingers lightly over the smooth wood. "This place is beautiful," he murmurs.

You smile, setting your bag down. "It has its charm, doesn't it?"

His gaze falls on the wall of framed photos—groups of smiling children in costumes, candid shots of performances. "Are these your students?"

"Yes," you say, walking up beside him. "They’re the reason I still love what I do."

Hyunjin glances at you, his expression soft. "I can see why they'd love you as a teacher."

The compliment catches you off guard, and your cheeks warm. Quickly, you motion to the barre. "Want to try something?"

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Are you offering to teach me ballet?"

"Why not?" you say, grinning. "You’re an athlete. It’ll be fun."

-

10:25 p.m.

You stand in front of him, arms crossed, as Hyunjin tentatively grips the barre. His tall frame looks comically out of place in the elegant studio.

"Okay," you begin, stepping closer. "We’ll start with something simple—a plié."

Hyunjin looks at you skeptically. "A what?"

You laugh softly. "It’s just bending your knees. Easy."

Demonstrating, you lower yourself gracefully, your knees bending outward as your back stays straight. Hyunjin watches, nodding, and attempts to mimic you.

His execution is… not as graceful.

"No, no," you say, laughing, stepping behind him to adjust his posture. "Straighten your back. And don’t forget to keep your heels on the ground."

You place your hands lightly on his shoulders to guide him. The moment your hands touch him, he stiffens, looking up at your reflection in the mirror.

"Relax," you say softly, your gaze meeting his.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and finally eases into the position. You step around to face him, studying his form critically.

"Not bad," you tease. "But your turnout needs work."

"What’s that?" he asks, genuinely curious.

You tap his knee gently. "It’s the angle of your legs. Let me show you."

You crouch slightly, your hands brushing his calf as you adjust his stance. He watches you intently, his dark eyes following your every move. When you glance up, you find him staring.

"Something wrong?" you ask, standing upright.

He blinks and shakes his head. "No, it’s just… you’re really good at this."

You chuckle, stepping back. "It’s my job."

Encouraged by your patient coaching, Hyunjin tries another plié. It’s still a little stiff, but he manages to get through it without wobbling.

"See? You’re getting the hang of it," you say, clapping lightly.

"Don’t lie," he says, laughing.

"Okay, you’re still stiff," you admit with a grin, "but that’s expected. Ballet is all about control and precision."

Hyunjin straightens up, rolling his shoulders. "It’s harder than it looks."

"Now you understand why ballerinas are tough," you say, playfully nudging him.

He laughs, the sound light and carefree. "Okay, what’s next?"

You hesitate, considering. "Maybe a pirouette?"

"A what?"

You demonstrate the spin, moving with effortless grace. Hyunjin stares, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, no," he says, laughing nervously. "I’ll break something."

You step closer, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "I’ll guide you. Trust me."

As you position him for the spin, your hand lingers on his waist. The closeness brings an unexpected tension between you, and for a moment, neither of you moves.

"You ready?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin nods, his eyes locked on yours.

"Okay. One… two… three."

He spins—clumsily, of course—but the two of you dissolve into laughter as he nearly stumbles into you. You catch his arm to steady him, the laughter fading as you find yourselves standing mere inches apart.

"Not bad for your first time," you say softly, your hand still on his arm.

Hyunjin smiles, his gaze lingering on you. "Only because I had a good teacher."

-

10:55 p.m.

The quiet of the studio wraps around you like a soft blanket, interrupted only by the faint hum of the overhead lights. Hyunjin leans against the barre, watching you adjust your pointe shoes with practiced precision. The thought has been circling his mind since you both left the restaurant, but now, in this space that seems so deeply a part of you, he can’t hold back his curiosity.

“So…” he begins cautiously, his voice light but uncertain, “how did it happen?”

You pause, looking up at him with a flicker of confusion.

“I mean, your accident,” he clarifies quickly, his expression apologetic, as though he’s afraid he’s overstepped. “If it’s okay to ask.”

A faint smile touches your lips, and you straighten, leaning against the mirror. “Two years ago,” you say softly, the words feeling fragile yet certain, as if the memory lives just on the edge of your voice.

Hyunjin stays quiet, giving you space to continue.

“I was preparing for an audition—Swan Lake,” you say, your eyes shimmering with a mix of pride and pain. “I’d been working on my fouettés for weeks, trying to perfect all thirty-two of them. It was… everything to me.”

He can see it in your expression, the longing for something lost yet deeply cherished.

“The morning of the audition, I was rushing to catch the bus,” you continue, your hand gesturing lightly as though retracing steps from that day. “I was almost out the door when I realized I’d forgotten my shoes—the ones I believed would bring me luck. So, I ran back to get them.”

Your voice falters, and Hyunjin feels a pang of dread, already sensing what comes next.

“When I stepped out of my apartment building, a car came out of nowhere.”

You take a deep breath, your fingers brushing over the edge of the barre. “It wasn’t even going that fast, but the way I fell… My leg took the worst of it. Surgery, physical therapy… the usual.”

Hyunjin swallows hard, unsure what to say. “Do you… regret going back for the shoes?”

A soft, almost bitter laugh escapes you. “Every day.”

The silence that follows feels heavy and fragile, a moment suspended between reflection and grief.

“Can you dance at all now?” Hyunjin asks gently, his voice barely above a whisper, unsure if he wants to hear your answer.

You surprise him by smiling. “Why don’t I show you?”

Standing in the center of the studio, a quiet determination settles over you. The space transforms as you raise your arms, your posture suddenly regal, every movement deliberate and graceful.

“This is the introduction to Black Swan, Act III,” you say, your voice steady. “It’s what I’d prepared for the audition.”

Hyunjin nods, unable to take his eyes off you as you begin to move. You are mesmerizing, every gesture steeped in a passion he can feel even in the silence of the room. But as you transition into the fouettés, he notices the strain in your expression. Your balance falters, your leg wobbles, and before he can call out, you tumble to the floor.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin rushes to your side, dropping to his knees as you prop yourself up on your elbows.

Instead of answering, you let out a loud, breathless laugh that echoes through the studio. You collapse back onto the polished floor, holding your stomach as the laughter spills out, unstoppable.

Hyunjin blinks, confused at first, but the sound of your laughter pulls him in. A small smile tugs at his lips. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, lying down beside you.

The quiet returns, the two of you staring up at the ceiling.

After a moment, you speak, your voice softer now, almost wistful. “Sometimes, I like to think there’s another me out there, one who made it to the audition, who got to live that dream.”

Hyunjin turns his head to look at you. Your expression is calm, tinged with longing but also a quiet acceptance.

“And you know what?” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m happy for her and that’s enough for me.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say, so he simply stays beside you, sharing the silence. There’s something achingly beautiful about your acceptance, the way you’ve found peace in the life you have now.

In that moment, he realizes how much strength it takes to smile at what could have been and quietly say, That’s enough.

-

11:13 p.m.

The studio falls into a comfortable silence, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. After a while, you sit up, brushing your hands over the smooth wood of the floor, and glance at Hyunjin lying beside you. He looks peaceful, almost lost in thought, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as an idea forms.

“I showed you my dancing,” you say, breaking the quiet. “Now I want to see you swim.”

Hyunjin’s head turns toward you, his brows lifting slightly in surprise. “You want to see me swim?” he asks, his voice soft yet curious.

You nod, leaning back on your palms. “It’s only fair. I want to see you doing what you do best.”

For a moment, he studies you, as if trying to gauge whether you’re serious. Then, a small chuckle escapes him, and he pushes himself up to sit beside you. “Alright,” he says, a playful smile spreading across his face. “If you really want to.”

He rises to his feet effortlessly and extends a hand to you, his fingers warm and steady as they wrap around yours. With a strong tug, he pulls you up, but the motion catches you off guard, and your body stumbles forward, colliding with his.

Your breath hitches as you find yourself pressed against him, your hands instinctively landing on his chest for balance. Hyunjin’s hands settle on your waist, steadying you, and for a moment, the world feels still again—but this time, it’s charged with something unspoken.

You glance up at him, and your heart skips a beat when you notice his gaze lingering on your lips. The air feels heavier, your pulse quickening under his touch. His expression is unreadable, his eyes soft yet intense, as if caught in a moment of indecision.

Flustered, you look away quickly, stepping back to put some distance between you. “I should, um, clean out my locker first,” you say, your voice slightly rushed. “Then we can go.”

Hyunjin blinks, the spell broken, and his lips curve into a small, understanding smile. “Alright,” he replies simply, his tone easy and light, as though nothing happened.

You turn toward the studio door, your cheeks warm as you try to steady your racing thoughts. Behind you, Hyunjin’s footsteps follow quietly, his presence a steady comfort in the stillness of the room.

-

11:49 p.m.

As the taxi pulls up in front of the aquatic center, Hyunjin is the first to step out. The cool night air brushes against his skin as he circles around to your side, offering his hand to help you out of the back seat. You take it with a quiet "thank you," and he smiles softly in response, his fingers lingering for a moment before he lets go.

Inside, the center is quiet, the fluorescent lights casting a pale glow over the sleek, tiled interior. Hyunjin leads the way, his footsteps echoing lightly in the stillness, but after a few steps, he notices you’re no longer beside him.

He turns around, his brows knitting together in concern. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

You hold up your phone, its screen glowing in the dim light, and his eyes fall to the numbers displayed there. It’s past midnight. The date has turned, and the realization hits him like a weight in his chest—this is it. The day has come.

“It’s today,” you say quietly, your voice steady but tinged with sadness.

Hyunjin studies your face, searching for any sign of fear. “Are you scared?” he asks softly.

You don’t answer right away, your lips curving into a sad smile instead. Then, with a steadying breath, you meet his gaze and say, “Promise me something.”

His heart tightens at your tone. “What is it?”

“If my time comes first,” you begin, your voice cracking slightly, “I want you to move on. Keep going. Finish your day, okay?”

Hyunjin’s chest tightens, his head shaking before you can even finish the thought. “No,” he says firmly, stepping closer to you. “I can’t do that. Not unless you promise me the same thing.”

You hesitate, your eyes glistening under the soft glow of the lights. After a moment, you nod, your voice a whisper. “Okay. We’ll both keep going.”

He takes your hand in his, his grip firm but comforting. “We’ll do it together,” he says, his voice steady and resolute.

You smile at him then, soft and bittersweet, and he feels his heart ache at how brave you are in this moment.

Hyunjin squeezes your hand gently and tilts his head. “So,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips, “do you still want to see me swim, or is there something else you’d rather do?”

You shake your head, a quiet laugh escaping you. “I still want to see you swim,” you insist, your determination making his heart feel lighter.

He chuckles softly, releasing your hand and motioning toward the pool. “Alright then,” he says. “Let’s make this count.”

With that, he turns and walks with you into the aquatic center, the weight of the clock pressing on both of you, but your shared promise holding it at bay for just a little longer.

-

12:07 a.m.

The sharp, unmistakable scent of chlorine stings your nose as you step inside the aquatic center. The lights overhead cast shimmering reflections across the vast, still water, and you pause, taking it all in. The pool is immense, almost intimidating in its size, with the kind of quiet that feels both peaceful and eerie.

You walk to the edge, peering over cautiously. The water glimmers below, deceptively inviting, but as your gaze shifts downward, the sheer depth of the pool sends a chill through you.

“Can you swim?” Hyunjin’s voice cuts through the stillness, pulling your focus to him.

You shake your head, your lips pressing into a tight line. “No,” you admit softly. “I almost drowned once when I was ten. I’ve been afraid of swimming ever since.”

Hyunjin studies you for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Then, with a small smile, he says, “It’s not too late to learn, you know.”

You hesitate, your arms wrapping around yourself. The idea alone sends your pulse racing, the memory of water filling your lungs still too vivid in your mind. “It’s… not that easy,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

Hyunjin steps closer, holding out his hand to you. His voice is gentle but insistent. “Come with me. I can teach you how to swim… without the water.”

You glance at his outstretched hand, uncertainty swirling inside you. But the way he looks at you, so patient and reassuring, nudges you forward. Slowly, you nod.

“Alright,” you say, placing your hand in his.

He leads you to a smaller pool, its drained interior revealing its tiled floor. Hyunjin climbs down the ladder first, but the rungs don’t reach all the way to the bottom, and you watch as he drops the last few feet with an easy, practiced grace.

“It’s not so bad,” he calls up to you, extending his arms. “Come on. I’ll guide you down.”

You grip the ladder, your knuckles whitening as you lower yourself carefully. Hyunjin watches you closely, his gaze steady and encouraging. But as you near the bottom, your foot slips on the slick metal.

Your heart lurches as you lose your grip, your body tilting backward into the empty pool.

“Hyunjin!” you cry out, the name leaving your lips instinctively as panic seizes you.

For a split second, the world tilts and blurs, your breath catching in your throat. The feeling of falling stretches out endlessly, your chest tightening with dread. Is this it? Is this the moment everything ends?

The silence in the pool amplifies the rush of your heartbeat, drowning out everything else.

-

12:15 a.m.

It all happens so fast that Hyunjin doesn’t fully register the moment until you’re lying at the bottom of the drained pool, unmoving. A jolt of fear grips him as he rushes to your side, kneeling beside you.

“Hey,” he calls softly, his voice trembling. His hand hovers over your shoulder, unsure whether to shake you or give you space. Your eyes remain closed, and there’s no reaction. For a second, his breath hitches.

Then, just as his chest tightens with panic, you let out a low whine, your hand reaching for the back of your head. Relief crashes over him so strongly that he nearly laughs out loud.

“You scared me!” he exclaims, leaning closer as he gently brushes his fingers against the back of your head to check for any injury. “Does it hurt here?”

You wince but then immediately chuckle, brushing him off. “That would’ve been such an anticlimactic death,” you joke, trying to sit up.

Hyunjin lets out a shaky laugh, torn between exasperation and amusement. “I don’t think I’d recover from that,” he mutters, helping you up. To make sure you’re okay, he holds up three fingers with a mock-serious expression. “Alright, genius. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his hand away, a grin tugging at your lips. “I’m fine, Hyunjin.”

“You sure?” He narrows his eyes, clearly still worried.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you reply, waving him off. “Now, are you going to teach me how to swim or not?”

He laughs and takes a step back, gesturing for you to follow him to the center of the empty pool. “Alright, since you’re so eager. Do you have a swimming style in mind?”

“Uh… backstroke?”

“Backstroke, huh? Fancy choice.” He teases, listing a few others—freestyle, breaststroke, butterfly—all with a playful grin. Shrugging off his hoodie and tossing it to the side, he positions himself in front of you, standing tall and confident.

“Okay,” he says, holding his arms out in front of him. “Rest your back on my arms. I’ll guide you.”

You hesitate, your brows knitting together. “I don’t know, I might be too heavy—”

“Seriously?” He rolls his eyes and interrupts you. “I’m an athlete. I’m strong enough to hold you. Just trust me.”

Still unsure, you eventually take a deep breath and lean back, letting your weight settle onto his arms. His grip is steady, firm, and reassuring.

“See? No problem,” he says, his voice soft now, coaxing you to relax. “Alright, keep your body straight, like you’re floating on water. Flap your arms back and kick your feet forward, just like this.”

You follow his guidance, mimicking the movements, and he begins to move backward, gently carrying you along. It feels so real that for a moment, you let yourself believe you’re actually swimming.

But then your focus drifts as you glance at him—his sharp features illuminated under the pool’s dim lights, the concentration in his expression, the way he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world.

He catches your gaze and quirks a brow. “What?”

Flustered, you quickly look away, and your hand smacks against the tiled wall at the end of the pool. Startled, you sit up.

“Whoa, swimmer!” Hyunjin teases, his laughter echoing in the empty pool. “If this was real, your head would’ve hit the wall instead of your hand.”

You can’t help but laugh with him, the moment so lighthearted and surreal that it temporarily pushes the looming reality of the day out of your mind.

Hyunjin chuckles as your laughter fades, his hand brushing back his damp hair. The glimmer in his eyes is playful, but there’s an undercurrent of something softer, almost protective, as he watches you sit up fully, still smiling from his teasing.

"Alright," he says, crossing his arms. "You’re not bad for someone who’s never been in the water."

You roll your eyes but can’t help grinning. “Thanks to my amazing teacher, right?”

He bows theatrically. “Obviously. Natural talent helps too, but I’ll let you take some credit.”

You shake your head, standing up as you stretch your arms. “Well,” you say with mock seriousness, “now that I’ve impressed you with my not-so-real swimming skills, it’s your turn to show me what you’ve got.”

Hyunjin straightens, his grin widening. “Oh, you want to see me swim for real?”

“Of course,” you reply, stepping aside and gesturing toward the other end of the pool. “How else am I supposed to judge if you’re actually any good?”

He smirks at your challenge, the competitive spark in his eyes lighting up. “Alright, I’ll show you,” he says confidently, already pulling his hoodie back on. “But don’t blink—you might miss how fast I am.”

You laugh, following him as he leads the way out of the drained pool, anticipation bubbling in the air between you.

-

12:55 a.m.

The aquatic center feels almost otherworldly in its stillness, the faint scent of chlorine hanging in the air. When Hyunjin finally reappears, dressed in nothing but his swimming trunks, towel, and goggles in hand, it takes you by surprise. His tall, lean frame seems even more striking now, the hoodie he'd worn earlier having hidden the breadth of his shoulders and the defined lines of his physique.

You catch yourself staring, and before you can stop it, an awkward giggle slips out. Hyunjin tilts his head, confused but amused. "What?" he asks.

Shyly, you admit, "Nothing, I just— I was starting to get creeped out being here all alone when you went to change."

He chuckles softly, walking to the edge of the pool. He crouches to scoop water into his hand, splashing it onto the back of his neck before straightening up.

"I need to warm up first," he says casually. You nod, stepping back to give him space.

Hyunjin drops to the ground and starts doing push-ups, his muscles flexing with each movement. You’re mesmerized despite yourself, your gaze tracing the way his body moves with fluid strength. Feeling the heat creep up your face, you force yourself to look away just as he finishes, bouncing lightly on his feet to shake out his wrists and arms.

"Don’t blink," he says, smirking as he heads toward the pool. "I swim so fast, you might miss it."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you respond with a teasing, "I’ll try to keep up."

Hyunjin dives in, his body cutting through the water with ease. The rhythmic splashing fills the air, and you can’t help but admire him. Watching him move with such precision and grace, he looks almost otherworldly—like a god emerging from the sea as he surfaces and climbs out of the pool.

The sight of water beading on his skin makes you avert your gaze, your heart racing. Grabbing the towel he'd left behind, you hand it to him without meeting his eyes.

"What did you think?" he asks, running the towel over his hair.

"Eh, it was alright," you tease with a grin.

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at your playful jab but chuckles, grabbing a stopwatch from his things. "Alright, critic. Let’s make it official. Time me this time."

"I don’t know if I’ll get it right," you protest, but he waves your concerns off.

"It doesn’t have to be perfect," he reassures you, securing his swimming cap and goggles. Once he’s ready, he asks, "You ready?"

You move closer to the pool’s edge, holding up the stopwatch. "Ready when you are."

Hyunjin steps onto the starting block, his form taut and focused. You start the countdown, your voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "Three... two... one!"

At the sound of "one," he dives in, and the water comes alive with his movement. Squatting down, you watch intently as he powers through the length of the pool and then back again, his speed almost unbelievable. The closer he gets to the edge, the tighter your grip on the stopwatch becomes.

When his hand finally slaps the wall, you hit the button, exhaling in relief.

Hyunjin surfaces, wiping his face. "What’s the time?"

You glance at the stopwatch, still catching your breath. "Forty-six point six-five," you announce, your voice tinged with excitement.

For a moment, Hyunjin looks puzzled, then his expression lights up. Dropping his towel, he strides over and lifts you effortlessly by the waist, spinning you around.

"Wait—did you break your record?" you ask, half-laughing and half-stunned.

He nods, grinning, but the elation fades quickly. As he sets you back down, his smile dims, his joy giving way to something more subdued.

"Hyunjin, what’s wrong?" you ask, concerned.

He shakes his head, forcing a small smile. "It’s nothing," he murmurs. Without another word, he excuses himself to wash up, leaving you alone with the faint ripples in the pool and a lingering sense that something deeper is on his mind.

-

01:08 a.m.

The hot shower does little to clear Hyunjin’s mind, the cloud of thoughts stubbornly lingering as he dries off and dresses. He sighs, running a towel halfheartedly through his damp hair before giving up and heading out.

The sound of his footsteps echoes softly as he exits the changing room, and he sees you standing by the bulletin board, seemingly engrossed in its contents. At the sound of his approach, you turn, your face lighting up with a soft smile. Hyunjin feels something warm unfurl in his chest—a comfort he hadn’t expected.

“You didn’t dry your hair properly,” you tease gently, pointing to the still-dripping strands clinging to his neck.

He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, and you tilt yours thoughtfully. “How about some hot drinks after this?”

Hyunjin arches a brow, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Hot drinks, huh? I’ve got just the thing.”

The short walk to his apartment is quiet but companionable, and when Hyunjin opens the door, he apologizes for the small, bare setup. His apartment is modest and practical—one room with everything visible at a glance—but he doesn’t seem embarrassed, just matter-of-fact.

He heads straight for the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet. “This is what I mean by hot drinks,” he says, smirking as he pours two glasses.

You both take a sip, and the burn of the alcohol draws simultaneous gasps. Laughing, Hyunjin suggests snacks to enjoy the drinks with and disappears back into the kitchen.

While he’s gone, your attention is drawn to a shelf lined with photos, medals, and trophies. You step closer, taking in the collection of memories. There’s Hyunjin on a podium, his face glowing with pride as he holds up a medal; Hyunjin mid-dive, captured in perfect form; Hyunjin smiling so brightly that the photo seems to radiate his joy.

When he returns, balancing a plate of snacks, he pauses beside you, his gaze falling on the same shelf. For a moment, there’s silence, just the two of you standing there, and then Hyunjin lets out a soft sigh.

Hyunjin sets everything down on the small table, but his eyes linger on the shelf filled with memorabilia. The once-vivid memories of his accomplishments now feel distant, like faded photographs of a life that no longer feels like his own.

He steps closer, his gaze tracing over the medals hanging neatly on hooks, the trophies gleaming faintly under the dim light, and the framed photos of him on various winner's podiums. He can almost hear the echo of applause, the feel of a medal being draped around his neck, the weight of victory sitting proud on his shoulders.

But the applause has long since faded, and what hangs over him now is a heavier truth: it will all become nothing.

Hyunjin swallows hard, the realization pressing against his chest like a stone. Every record he broke, every trophy he held high—soon, none of it will matter. No one will remember him or the things he did. The glory, the pride, the recognition—it will all vanish as if it never existed.

He lets out a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “All of this... it’s meaningless now. Everything I’ve done—it’s nothing. Soon, it’ll all be forgotten.”

The weight of his words fills the room, thick and suffocating. His shoulders slump as he drops his gaze, unable to meet your eyes. For a moment, he feels like the water he’s so accustomed to—a surface rippling with movement, but underneath, a deep void pulling him down.

You stand beside him, quietly taking in his anguish. Finally, you turn to him, your voice steady, a soft but unyielding anchor against the tide of his despair. “I disagree with you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin looks at you, surprised by your tone.

“This is... your whole life and it shows that you achieved a lot of great, wonderful things. You can see how far you've become, your triumphs and failures, everything that makes you who you are now,” you say, your eyes locking with his. “And just because the whole world doesn't know how great you are this doesn't mean it's nothing. This is not nothing, this is everything.”

He watches you intently, your words weaving through the storm of his thoughts like threads of light. For a moment, he feels the weight on his chest lift, just enough for him to draw a deeper breath.

It's true that his dream is to make a mark in the world, he wants to be remembered by the world but as he looks at you, Hyunjin realizes that it only takes one person to know what he capable of. He doesn't need the whole world to know that he's great, he only needs one that fully acknowledges him as one.

-

01:22 a.m.

Hyunjin's words linger in the air, heavy with vulnerability, and for the first time since meeting him, you realize just how deeply he craves to make a mark on this world. It isn’t just about the trophies on his shelf or the accolades he’s earned—it’s about the story he wants to leave behind, the proof that he existed, that he mattered.

You see it in the way his fingers hover over the medals, in the wistful look in his eyes as they trace the photos on the shelf. For all his confidence and charisma, there’s a quiet fear beneath it all—a fear of being forgotten, of fading into obscurity when his time is up.

“Hyunjin…” you say softly, stepping closer to him. He doesn’t look at you right away, his gaze fixed on a photo of him on a podium, his smile bright but distant, like a memory that no longer feels real.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to say. But then, the words spill out. “You are something and you're a fool for thinking otherwise.”

That catches his attention. He turns to look at you, his expression unreadable, and for a second, you worry you’ve said too much. But then his lips part, as if he’s about to say something, and he stops himself.

Instead, he just looks at you. Really looks at you. And in his eyes, you see something shift—a softening, a quiet acknowledgment of your words sinking in.

You feel your pulse quicken, the air between you charged with something unspoken. “And I know that we'll go into oblivion soon,” you continue, your voice steady but quiet, “but I'm still here and I know, I know how remarkable you are.”

Hyunjin’s gaze doesn’t waver, and for the first time, you see him without the walls he’s so carefully built around himself. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to steady himself—or maybe you.

“I don’t know if I can believe that yet,” he murmurs, his voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. “But… thank you.”

The way he’s looking at you now feels different—like he’s searching for something, something only you can give him. And as the silence stretches between you, you feel the weight of it shift into something warmer, something that pulls you closer to him without either of you realizing it.

When Hyunjin leans in, it isn’t sudden. It’s slow, deliberate, as if he’s giving you every chance to step back. But you don’t. You hold your ground, your breath catching as his face inches closer to yours.

And when his lips finally meet yours, it’s soft, almost hesitant, like he’s asking a question he’s too afraid to voice aloud. But as you kiss him back, the answer becomes clear. For this moment, at least, he isn’t alone.

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. His eyes flutter open, and for a moment, you both stay there, caught in the stillness of the moment. His gaze searches yours, hesitant but vulnerable, like he’s waiting for something—validation, reassurance, or maybe just the courage to believe in himself.

Before he can say anything, you lean in again, capturing his lips with yours. This kiss is different, deeper, more intentional. You pour everything you want him to know into it—all the words he needs to hear, the things you can’t quite say aloud.

You are something. You are remarkable. You are a wonder, both in the water and outside of it.

Hyunjin responds immediately, his hands sliding to your waist, holding you like you’re the anchor he didn’t realize he needed. You can feel the way his lips tremble slightly against yours, the way his touch tightens just enough to keep you close but not trap you.

Through the kisses, you try to tell him everything you feel. That his achievements aren’t meaningless. That his existence isn’t something that will fade into nothingness. That even in the face of the inevitable, he has already left a mark—on you, on the world, on everyone lucky enough to know him.

His hands move to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as if grounding himself in this moment, in you. His lips press harder against yours, the kiss turning fervent, desperate, as though he’s trying to absorb every ounce of comfort and affirmation you’re giving him.

You can feel the tension in his body begin to melt away, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable. The world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in this small, quiet space.

When you finally pull back, it’s not far—just enough to catch your breath. Hyunjin’s eyes remain closed for a moment, his expression unreadable, but when they open, they’re shining with something you can’t quite name. Gratitude, maybe. Hope.

“You’re…” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. But he doesn’t finish. Instead, he leans in again, his lips finding yours once more, and this time, it feels like a promise.

The two of you melt into each other, the kisses growing slower but no less intense. You lose track of time, caught in the warmth and closeness, as if the weight of the world has lifted, if only for a little while. For this moment, at least, you’re both enough—just as you are.

-

01:52 a.m.

Hyunjin's forehead still resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. His fingers trail softly down your arms, and his gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. There’s no hesitation now, no doubt in the way he looks at you, like he’s trying to memorize every detail, every curve, every moment.

Without a word, he cups your face, his touch both gentle and steady, as if grounding himself in you. His thumbs trace slow circles over your cheeks, and you feel your breath hitch as his lips find yours again, softer this time, yet filled with a quiet yearning.

The world around you feels muted, distant, as he leads you toward the bed. The dim light casts soft shadows, and the room seems to shrink until it holds only the two of you.

“You're breathtaking,” Hyunjin murmurs with a low, sultry voice.

"Wait, wait. I'm..." you protest in breathless sighs, your hips arching, lifting off the bed.

He rushes a kiss on your open mouth, his lips graze yours as he says, "Let go. I've got you."

Your abdomen flexes under his arm as you clench around his fingers so hard it nearly pushes him out of you. His cock has never been so jealous than when you begin to come. Your eyes grow big, and your mouth drops open on a silent scream, and your wall clutches around his long, dainty fingers harder with each pulse.

Unreal. Hyunjin says in his head as he looks at you with a pair of big, lustful eyes.

"Look how gorgeous you are, coming on my fingers." He coos, his eyes traveling down your naked body that feels small in his arms. You moan louder in response and he knows he hits his mark.

Eventually, looking is not enough for him so he uses his free hand to touch you. "Look at your eyes, your mouth, your breasts. This soft, soft skin..."

Hyunjin softly smiles at your beauty as you fall apart around him. "So beautiful..."

You're still climaxing and you need this more than he realized. Which means you haven't had it in a while, at least not this good.

"Hyunjin!" You shriek, almost in a panic.

He presses his plush lips to your ear, his breath hot and tickling. "You look perfect like this."

Low moans are spilling out of you, still coming and struggling to breathe through it. Hyunjin curls his fingers and taps you right in the spot in a quick rhythm, and your eyes roll back a little.

"Good girl, keep coming for me. You're doing so well. That's it, be my greedy girl."

When you collapse onto the bed, he ushers you onto his lap, then cradles your spent body in his arms. As soon as he pulls his fingers out, your thighs press together.

"Don't close your legs." Hyunjin rests a hand on your inner thigh, wanting to see every spasm as he tastes your lips. "You're done hiding from me."

You lie side by side, and Hyunjin hesitates for a moment, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. His gaze searches yours, as if silently asking for permission, for reassurance. You respond with a small nod, your fingers reaching to trace the curve of his jaw.

When he leans in again, it’s slow, deliberate. His lips move with yours in a rhythm that feels like a conversation, one that needs no words. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing as he presses you closer, as if trying to erase the space between you.

“At least, we don't have to worry about condoms,” Hyunjin makes a funny remark as he settles himself between you.

A chuckle escapes your mouth in response, your head falls back onto the pillow. “That’s one way to see it!”

Hyunjin lowers his mouth on you, his trail of kisses begin from your ribcage, he goes lower and sideways, placing kisses on your abdomen that tenses as his lips get closer to where you want him the most. He flashes you a sly smile before placing the gentlest of kiss on your clit. As if that isn't enough to make you wet, he lands a few licks between your folds and drags his tongue upward only to swirls it around your clit and finishes it with another kiss on your clit, briefly sucking at it before letting go.

“I'm going in, yeah?”

You nod in consent, opening your legs wider for him and trying not to stare too much as Hyunjin will only stare back at you, and you'll likely crumble under his intense gaze.

“Oh...” you bite back a gasp the second you feel him entering you, just the tip but you can already feel that his size is above average.

Hyunjin props his hands on each side of you, deciding to hover above you as he pushes the rest of his length by motioning his hips. In this proximity, you can see the way his pupils gradually dilated and his eyelids fluttering the more of him being inside you. Overwhelmed, Hyunjin throws his head back and pushes the rest of his cock until he's fully sheathed in your warm, velvety walls.

“Argh...” his moan raw and broken as if something wounded him.

The world feels suspended, reduced to just the two of you and the quiet rhythm of your breaths. His bare skin glows in the dim of the light, the contours of his body sculpted with an almost otherworldly beauty.

As he thrusts into you at a slow, steady pace, you reach up, your fingers tracing the elegant lines of his collarbone, the smooth expanse of his chest. Every touch feels like discovering him for the first time, each detail making your heart ache with something too profound to name.

“You’re staring,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice soft, almost teasing, though a faint blush colors his cheeks.

“Can you blame me?” you whisper, your voice filled with awe as your fingers trail over the curve of his shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, Hyunjin.”

His lips twitch into a small, shy smile, but his eyes stay locked on yours, filled with an intensity that makes your breath catch. “You make me feel like I’m more than I am,” he says quietly, the vulnerability in his voice wrapping around you.

You shake your head, your hand sliding to the slope of his waist, marveling at how perfectly he fits into the moment, into you. “No,” you whisper. “You’re exactly as you are. And that’s perfect.”

He lowers himself slightly, his long hair brushing against your skin as his lips hover near yours. Your hands continue their exploration, tracing the ridges of his ribs, the softness of his hips, and the strength of his arms as they're now propped in each side of your head.

“You’re not real,” you murmur, your fingertips brushing along his jaw, marveling at how soft yet strong he feels. “You can’t be.”

Hyunjin laughs softly, the sound vibrating through both of you. “I’m real,” he assures you, lowering his lips to brush against yours in a kiss that feels as light as air. “But if I’m not,” he whispers against your mouth, “then I’m glad I get to exist in this moment with you.”

Your hand finds his face, cupping his cheek as you pull him down into a deeper kiss, your body pressing against his as if to anchor him to the earth, to you. And in this moment, as you touch and hold and feel him, you believe in the magic of him, in the impossibility made real, and in the fleeting beauty of this shared, perfect moment.

The rest of the night unfolds in whispers and warmth, every touch and movement filled with quiet intimacy. There’s no rush, no urgency, just the two of you discovering and rediscovering each other, as if this fleeting moment is all that matters.

Eventually, the room falls into a soft silence, broken only by the sound of your breathing. Hyunjin’s arm wraps around you, pulling you into the curve of his body. His hand rests lightly against your waist, his thumb drawing lazy patterns on your skin.

In the stillness, he presses a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re remarkable too,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with sincerity.

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you nestle closer to him, your fingers brushing against his. For the first time, the weight of the day seems to lift, leaving only this shared moment, this connection, that feels infinite despite the inevitable.

-

02:59 a.m.

The early dawn filters softly through the curtains, casting a bluish glow over the room as you lay next to Hyunjin, your head resting on his arm while his other hand lazily traces small patterns along your back. His warmth surrounds you, and for a moment, the world feels still and quiet.

With a curious smile, you tilt your head to look up at him. “Hyunjin?” you call softly, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Hyunjin turns his head to the side and softly gazes into your eyes. “Yeah?”

“What would your perfect day look like?”

Hyunjin grins, a playful gleam in his eyes. “This,” he says, gesturing to the two of you tangled together under the covers. “Right here, right now. Best way to be found dead.”

You laugh and gently swat at his chest, shaking your head. “Stop saying things like that,” you scold, though the smile on your face betrays your amusement. “I want a serious answer.”

Hyunjin hums thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward the ceiling as he considers. “Okay,” he finally says. “I’d start the day early, maybe before sunrise. I’d drive to this lake I used to visit when I was younger. It’s peaceful, surrounded by trees, and the water’s always so calm in the morning.” His voice softens as he speaks, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words. “It must be beautiful this time of year.”

You shift slightly, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him. “Is it far?”

“Not too far,” Hyunjin replies, turning his head to meet your gaze. “About two hours by car.”

A spark of determination lights up in your eyes, and you sit up, pulling the blanket with you. “Then let’s go,” you declare, your voice filled with excitement. “Let’s create a perfect day. It’s the last chance we have, so why not make it count?”

Hyunjin looks up at you, his expression softening as his lips curve into a tender smile. For a moment, he says nothing, just gazes at you like you’ve just handed him the world.

“No, let’s just stay here. It's perfect like this,” Hyunjin says with a sly grin.

You gently slap his chest and whine, hoping to put some senses into him.

Slowly, he sits up, leaning closer until his lips brush against yours in a kiss so gentle it feels like a promise. When he pulls back, his face lingers close to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Okay. Let’s do it,” he murmurs, his voice low but steady. “Let’s go.”

-

03:25 a.m.

Hyunjin is scribbling something on a piece of paper when you return, holding two bags of snacks and drinks from the convenience store. The way his brow furrows slightly in concentration catches your attention, and you pause for a moment, noticing he's using your red hairtie to tie his hair into a low ponytail and engrossed on writing something on a piece of paper.

You step closer and knock on the windshield, grinning as his head snaps up, startled. His wide eyes make you laugh, the sound light and teasing as you shake your head. He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance but leans over to push the car door open for you.

“Need help with those?” he asks, already reaching for the bags in your hands.

“Thanks,” you say, handing them over as he places them neatly in the backseat.

“Did you get everything?” he asks, glancing at the bags.

You nod. “Yep, all set.” Then, reaching into your pocket, you pull out something small and hold it up. “Oh, and this,” you add with a smile.

Hyunjin tilts his head, curious. “What’s that?”

“For you,” you say, showing him the little star-shaped pin in your hand. “Your reward for breaking your time record today.”

His expression shifts, his gaze softening as he looks at the pin. A smile spreads slowly across his face, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything.

Without waiting, you lean in and carefully attach the pin to the lapel of his jacket. “There,” you say, stepping back slightly to admire your work. “Congratulations, Hyunjin.”

He looks down at the pin, his smile widening, and when his gaze lifts to meet yours, there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “You're not going to kiss me?” he asks, his voice teasing yet warm.

You let out a soft laugh and lean in, brushing a quick kiss against his lips. But before you can fully pull away, Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the back of your neck, and he pulls you in for another kiss—deeper, slower.

You giggle against his lips, your laughter muffled between you, and he smiles into the kiss before finally pulling back. The warmth in his gaze lingers, leaving you breathless and smiling.

“Alright,” he says, settling back into his seat and starting the car. “Shall we?”

You buckle your seatbelt, excitement bubbling up as you nod. “Ready when you are.”

Hyunjin glances at you, his own excitement mirrored in his expression. “Alright, here we go,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot, the perfect day waiting just ahead.

-

04:11 a.m.

The hum of the car fills the air as you and Hyunjin drive down the winding road, the sun rising higher with each passing mile. You’re both relaxed, trading stories and laughing as a small mountain of snack wrappers begins to pile up between you. Hyunjin occasionally glances your way, his smile soft but constant, as if the moment itself feels too perfect to break.

Reaching into the bag beside you, you pull out a can of soda and hand it to him. “Here,” you say, passing it over without thinking.

Hyunjin takes it with one hand, his other still loosely gripping the steering wheel. As he shifts his attention to crack the tab open, the can slips from his fingers. The drink spills across the front of his t-shirt in an instant, cold liquid spreading like a stain across the fabric.

“Ah, shit!” Hyunjin exclaims, pulling the car slightly to the side as you grab a handful of tissues.

“Hold still,” you say, leaning over to help dab at the spill.

Hyunjin laughs, the sound tinged with embarrassment as he attempts to help, both of your hands awkwardly brushing against each other. “You’re worse at this than me,” he teases.

“Hey, it’s your fault for spilling in the first place!” you counter, trying to keep your tone light as you both focus on cleaning up the mess.

But then it happens—Hyunjin’s attention strays too long from the road, and neither of you notice the dog suddenly darting into the street.

“Hyunjin!” you scream, your voice sharp with panic as your hand instinctively shoots out to grab his arm.

His eyes snap forward, and his body reacts instantly. The tires screech against the asphalt as he slams on the brakes, the force jerking both of you against your seatbelts. The world feels as though it’s spinning for a second, the weight of the abrupt stop pressing hard against your chest.

The car comes to a halt just inches away from the small, trembling dog, its wide eyes staring at you through the windshield.

Your heart is racing, your breaths shallow and shaky as you sit frozen, staring out at the still figure on the road. Hyunjin grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he exhales a shaky breath.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and thick with concern.

You nod numbly, your voice catching in your throat as you try to answer. “Y-yeah. Are you?”

He glances at you, his expression softening when he sees your trembling hands. “I’m fine,” he assures you, though his voice is quieter now, more careful.

The two of you sit in silence for a long moment, the sound of your racing hearts almost audible in the stillness. Then, Hyunjin glances at the dog, who scampers away unscathed, disappearing into the brush.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice cracking slightly as he turns to face you fully.

You shake your head quickly, trying to reassure him. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” you say, though the adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your words waver.

Hyunjin’s hand hesitates for a moment before it finds yours, his fingers squeezing gently. “We’re okay,” he whispers, almost as if convincing himself.

You nod again, letting out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, we are.”

As the car slowly starts moving again, the tension lingers, but there’s a quiet understanding between you—a shared moment that feels heavier than words, as if both of you silently acknowledge how fragile this perfect day could have been.

-

05:22 a.m.

The car ride is quiet now, the earlier tension still lingering in the air. Neither of you speak for a while, each lost in your thoughts as the road stretches ahead. The sun begins to crest over the horizon, its warm light spilling across the landscape, painting the morning in hues of gold and soft pink.

You reach for the window switch and roll it down, letting the cool morning breeze rush into the car. It sweeps through your hair, refreshing and light, and you close your eyes for a moment, letting the sensation calm your nerves.

When you glance over at Hyunjin, he’s already looking at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You can’t help but smile back, warmth blooming in your chest despite the chill of the breeze.

“Look at the sky,” you say softly, nodding toward the view. “It’s beautiful.”

Hyunjin tears his gaze from you, his eyes following your gesture. The sky is breathtaking, streaked with the first slivers of sunlight that break through the faint morning mist.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low and reflective. “It is.”

His hand leaves the steering wheel, searching for yours. When he finds it, he laces his fingers with yours and rests them gently on his lap. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent reassurance that everything is okay now.

Hyunjin keeps his eyes on the horizon, the soft glow of the sun reflecting in his gaze. “It’s beautiful,” he repeats, but this time, his voice is heavier, almost wistful, as if he’s savoring the moment in a way he never has before.

You tighten your hold on his hand, the simple gesture conveying what words can’t. Together, you sit in the quiet, watching the morning unfold, the world outside feeling peaceful and endless as the car moves forward.

-

05:40 a.m.

The car comes to a halt, and you step out into the crisp morning air. Hyunjin joins you, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfied sigh. You glance around, the scent of pine and damp earth filling your lungs as you take in the scenery.

After a short walk, the lake comes into view, and you gasp, unable to contain your amazement. The water is perfectly still, a mirror reflecting the sky and the towering trees surrounding it. The faint golden light of the morning casts everything in a dreamy glow. The trees, just beginning to turn with the season, stand like silent sentinels guarding this little piece of paradise.

“Wow,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft rustling of leaves.

Hyunjin looks at you, his smile growing at your reaction. He reaches for your hand and takes it, his fingers warm and steady against yours. “Come on,” he says, leading you toward the water’s edge.

The two of you stop just where the land kisses the lake. You peer down at the water, its surface so calm it feels like stepping into a painting.

“It must be freezing,” you say, giving Hyunjin a wary glance.

He narrows his eyes playfully. “That’s what makes it perfect for a morning swim.”

You shake your head firmly, taking a step back. “No way.”

Hyunjin laughs, undeterred. “Trust me. Once you’re in, it’s not that bad.”

You laugh nervously, shaking your head again. “Hyunjin, I still can’t swim, remember?”

His expression softens, and he takes both of your hands in his. “And I told you— No worries, I’ll hold you.” His tone is earnest, his dark eyes unwavering.

Despite your protests, he’s relentless, coaxing you closer to the edge until you’re standing there, shivering slightly in your underwear. You grip his hand tightly, trying one last time to dissuade him.

“Hyunjin, I’m serious—”

Before you can finish, he sweeps you off your feet, his arms locking around your waist. You let out a startled squeal, clinging to him instinctively.

“Hyunjin, don’t you dare—”

But it’s too late. He steps into the water, pulling you with him. The cold shocks your body the second you make contact, and you scream, the sound piercing through the stillness of the lake.

Hyunjin doesn’t stop until the two of you are submerged waist-deep. You’re clinging to him for dear life, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, your legs curling up to avoid the icy water.

“See? It’s not as bad as you think,” he says, his voice light with amusement as he looks down at you.

Your teeth are chattering, and you tighten your hold on him. “You’re right,” you say through gritted teeth. “It’s worse than I thought it would be.”

Hyunjin throws his head back and laughs, his warm breath misting in the cool air. The sound is infectious, and soon you’re laughing too, your voices echoing across the serene lake.

He then adjusts your arms around his shoulders and gives you an encouraging look. “Hold on tight,” he says, his voice warm with reassurance. You do as he says, gripping him as he begins to move through the water with ease.

The cold from earlier feels less harsh now, your body gradually adapting to the temperature. As Hyunjin swims farther from the shore, you cling to him, feeling the strength in his movements as he effortlessly cuts through the water.

“Not so bad now, huh?” he teases, glancing over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes but can’t help a small smile. “I’m still debating.”

When he slows down, you notice just how far you’ve come from the shore. The lake stretches around you, a perfect circle of serenity framed by towering trees. Hyunjin turns to face you, still holding you securely as you float together.

“Relax,” he says, his voice softer now. His hands guide you gently, helping you stay afloat. You take a deep breath and allow yourself to loosen your grip, trusting him.

The stillness of the moment washes over you as you look around. The world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the calm water under the open sky. The reflection of the trees and clouds ripples gently with every movement.

“Still as bad as you think?” Hyunjin asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

You shrug, pretending to be unimpressed. “It’s... alright, I guess.”

Hyunjin bursts out laughing, his joy infectious as it echoes across the lake. He leans in slightly, his arms finding their way around your waist. Before you can react, he pulls you down with him, both of you plunging beneath the surface.

The cold water shocks you as it rushes over your head, and you instinctively hold your breath. A moment later, you break the surface, gasping for air.

“Hyunjin!” you sputter, wiping water from your face. “What was that for?”

He’s already laughing, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. “You should’ve seen your face!”

You glare at him, about to launch into a scolding, but he interrupts by cupping your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss.

Your protest dies on your lips, muffled by his. You try to hold on to your indignation, muttering complaints against his mouth, but his kiss is too warm, too insistent. Eventually, you give in, melting against him as his laughter hums through the connection.

When you finally pull away, Hyunjin grins at you, water dripping from his face. “Still want to complain?”

You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “You’re lucky I can’t swim away from you right now.”

“Exactly,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. “That’s why I had to bring you out here.”

The water is cold, but in this moment, surrounded by the beauty of the lake and the warmth of Hyunjin’s arms, you’ve never felt more alive.

-

06:21 a.m.

The sun climbs higher into the sky, warming your skin as you sit on the smooth rocks by the shore, your clothes drying slowly in the gentle breeze. Hyunjin’s jacket is draped over your shoulders, a welcome layer against the cool air still lingering from your swim. You glance at him and murmur your thanks, to which he responds with a small, warm smile.

Opening a can of soda, you take a sip, the drink now lukewarm but refreshing nonetheless. You tilt your head toward Hyunjin. “So, what’s next on your perfect day itinerary?”

Hyunjin sets his can down and grins, his eyes lighting up with boyish excitement. “There’s this diner I used to go to. It’s not too far from here. They make the best waffles.”

“Waffles, huh?” you ask, raising a brow, though his enthusiasm already has you smiling.

“They’re amazing,” he insists, his hands gesturing animatedly. “Crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, with this maple syrup that’s just—” He sighs in exaggerated bliss, making you laugh.

“Alright, alright,” you say, holding up your hands. “I’m sold. Waffles it is.”

Hyunjin chuckles and shifts closer, his hand reaching up to brush a damp strand of hair from your face. His touch is gentle, his fingers lingering for a moment before he tucks the strand behind your ear. Without a word, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s soft and slow, like the morning sun warming your skin.

When he pulls back, his smile is tender, and it makes your heart ache. “I'm glad I met you.”

“Me too,” you say back while placing your hand on his and hold it tightly.

The sunlight hits right on Hyunjin’s eyes, making them shine as he stares at you. You know you've only known him for barely a day but Hyunjin knows things most people doesn't know about you. He knows your prefers your flowers to be red than blue, he knows your dreams you never say out loud but you secretly wish to come true and that makes you feel significant to him as he is significant to you. You believe that is how Hyunjin going to make a mark on you.

“I’m going to take one more lap around the lake before we go,” he says, his voice quiet yet certain.

You nod, but before he can move, you catch his wrist, pulling him back toward you. This time, it’s you who closes the distance, pressing a kiss to his lips. It lingers, a silent plea that feels like it’s carrying the weight of everything you can’t say aloud. You wish for more time—just one more day, one more perfect morning.

Hyunjin seems to sense it, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek as he gazes at you, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. He leans in to press a featherlight kiss to your lips before pulling away completely.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a wink, his voice lighter now. “I won’t take too long.”

As you watch him dive back into the water, the sunlight catching on the ripples he leaves behind, you feel a fleeting, impossible sense of forever. For this moment, at least, Hyunjin makes you believe that forever is within grasp.

-

06:51 a.m.

The warmth of the morning sun wraps around you, its gentle rays brushing against your damp skin. The sky is alive with soft hues of gold and blue, a masterpiece unfolding before your eyes. Overhead, a flock of birds glides effortlessly, their formation cutting gracefully through the stillness. For the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to marvel at it all—the simplicity, the beauty, the life you’ve taken for granted.

But the moment fractures.

You glance toward the lake, expecting to find Hyunjin slicing through the water, to hear the rhythmic splashes that have become so familiar. Instead, there is only silence. The lake mirrors the sky, undisturbed, serene, and empty.

A flicker of unease takes root in your chest. You scan the shoreline, your gaze darting to every shadow, every ripple. The stillness feels wrong now.

“Hyunjin?” you call out, your voice tentative, breaking the quiet.

No answer.

You step closer to the edge, the cool rocks pressing into your bare feet, your heart beginning to pound against your ribcage. “Hyunjin,” you try again, louder this time, but the name hangs in the air unanswered.

The warmth of the morning sun seems to mock you now, its gentle rays brushing against your damp skin as the sky stretches overhead, a canvas of soft gold and endless blue. The flock of birds that once felt like a sign of life now drifts aimlessly, their formation a cruel reminder of how fragile everything truly is.

You glance toward the lake, expecting to find him slicing through the water, his laughter echoing in the stillness. Instead, there is only silence. The lake reflects the sky perfectly, undisturbed, as if it had swallowed him whole and left no trace.

Your chest tightens. “Hyunjin?” you call out, your voice soft at first, hesitant to break the quiet.

No answer.

You step closer to the edge, the rocks digging into your bare feet as your pulse quickens. “Hyunjin,” you try again, louder this time, your voice trembling. But the name dissipates into the air, unanswered.

A flicker of unease blooms into full-blown panic. You scan the water frantically, your eyes darting across every ripple, every shadow. “This isn’t funny!” you yell, your voice rising with desperation. “If you’re hiding, just stop it and come out!”

Still nothing.

Fear grips you like a vice, and before you can stop yourself, you wade into the water. The cold seeps through your skin, biting and relentless, but you don’t care. You splash forward, the ripples spreading around you, as though trying to reach him through sheer force of will.

“Hyunjin!” you scream, your voice cracking under the weight of your fear. “Answer me!”

The water clings to you, dragging you down as if conspiring with your helplessness. You tread forward a little more, but you can’t go far. Your feet leave the ground, and you freeze, paralyzed by the sudden depth. You try to push forward, but your body resists—muscles locking up with the knowledge that you can’t swim.

Frustration and panic mix into a volatile cocktail in your chest. You slap the water with your hands, gasping for breath, tears streaming as you scream his name again.

“I can’t do this! Hyunjin!” you cry out, the words breaking apart into sobs. The lake offers no comfort, its silence an unbearable void. You flail for a moment, trying to search the surface, but every movement feels futile.

You cling to the thought of him, to his smile, his laughter, the warmth he carried with him like a shield against the world. But now, that warmth feels so far away, unreachable in the depths of the water.

“Hyunjin!” you cry again, weaker this time, the weight of your helplessness pressing down on you. You force yourself back toward the shore, stumbling onto the rocks as you collapse to your knees, breathless and shaking. “Please, don't— don't leave me...”

The water stills behind you, its surface reflecting the endless morning sky. You look out at it, broken and trembling, your heart refusing to accept what your mind is beginning to believe. It can’t be over. Not like this.

“Hyunjin...”

-

08:01 a.m.

The rocks beneath you feel sharp, unforgiving, but you barely notice. You sit there, knees pulled tight to your chest, your damp clothes clinging to your skin as you watch the rescue team comb through the lake. Every moment stretches painfully, the weight of silence crushing you with each passing second.

Your fingers dig into your arms as if grounding yourself can keep you from unraveling completely. Then, a shout echoes from the water. You see them—a group of rescuers—working together to pull a body from the depths.

Your breath catches in your throat.

They move with careful precision, carrying the body to shore in a black bag. You feel your body trembling uncontrollably as they approach. One of them steps forward, their expression solemn, as they lower the bag in front of you.

"Is this him?" they ask, their voice heavy with the weight of what they know must be unbearable.

You freeze, staring at the zipper of the bag, your entire being screaming to look and yet refusing at the same time. You can’t do it. You can’t see him like that.

But then your eyes catch something—a flash of red against the black. It’s your hair tie, wrapped around his wrist. You had given it to him, smiling at how absurdly adorable he’d looked wearing it. And now, it’s the confirmation you never wanted.

Your breath hitches as tears flood your vision. "It’s him," you whisper, the words breaking apart as they leave your lips.

Slowly, you reach out, your trembling hand finding his through the body bag.

With shaking fingers, you reach at the lapel of his jacket you're wearing and take off the star-shaped pin, the one you had given him just hours ago. It glints faintly in the sunlight, a small reminder of the joy he carried with him. Carefully, you place it in his palm and fold his fingers around it.

"Keep it," you say softly, tears dripping onto the bag. "It’s yours."

It’s cold—his hand is so cold it sends a shiver through you. But you hold it tight, pressing his lifeless hand to your lips. "Wait for me," you murmur, your voice cracking as the tears spill over. "I’ll see you soon, Hyunjin."

You step back as they zip the bag closed, sealing him away from you forever. The sound cuts through the air like a blade, leaving you raw and hollow.

The ambulance arrives, and they load his body inside. You stand there, watching, your hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. As the vehicle pulls away, your fingers brush against something—a folded piece of paper.

Curious and aching, you pull it out and unfold it with trembling hands. It’s his handwriting, messy but unmistakably his. A list of things he wanted to do today.

Swim in the lake.

Watch the sunrise.

Have waffles for breakfast.

Visit the art gallery.

Hot cocoa at the park.

The last line reads, Buy roses for...

Your lips tremble as you remember the promise you’d made to each other—the promise to keep moving forward, no matter who went first. The memory feels like a cruel joke now, but as you stare at his words, something inside you hardens.

You swallow the lump in your throat, your voice barely above a whisper as you say to the empty air, "I’m keeping my promise, Hyunjin."

The ambulance disappears down the road, and you stand there, the morning sun casting long shadows around you. Still, you refuse to believe that Hyunjin’s gone. He is not, he just goes to sleep to live a new dream.

-

09:14 a.m.

You sit in the corner booth of the diner, the same one Hyunjin had gushed about just hours ago. The waffles arrive, golden and drenched in syrup, the butter melting into small pools on the plate. You take a bite, the sweetness coating your tongue, but it tastes hollow. Your chest tightens as you remember how Hyunjin’s eyes had sparkled when he described them to you, as though they were a treasure worth crossing the world for.

Now, it feels like swallowing shards of glass.

The drive back to the city is quiet, the hum of the engine filling the void Hyunjin once occupied. His note sits folded on the passenger seat, a reminder of the day you’re piecing together without him. You glance at it at every stoplight, as if his handwriting might come alive and guide you forward.

Your next stop is the art gallery. You find his favorite painting almost instinctively, a swirling masterpiece of color and emotion. Sitting on the bench before it, you let your mind wander. You picture Hyunjin here, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his head tilted slightly as he studied the strokes.

"Do you see how the colors bleed into each other?" he would say. "It’s chaotic but still… perfect."

The memory slices through you, and you blink away the tears that threaten to spill.

From the gallery, you walk to a nearby café, the warmth of the cup of hot cocoa in your hands doing little to soothe the chill in your heart. You sit on a bench overlooking the river, the city split in two by its calm flow. The world moves on around you—people walking their dogs, children laughing in the distance—but you’re trapped in stillness.

You think of Hyunjin, of how he was alive and laughing mere hours ago. You think of his voice, his touch, the way he could make the ordinary feel extraordinary.

And now he’s gone.

For the first time, anger stirs beneath your grief. It rises like a storm, raw and uncontrollable. You clench the cup tightly, your knuckles whitening. How could death be so cruel? How could it take someone so vibrant and leave you tethered to feelings that have nowhere to go?

Death is so unfair. It takes the person, but not the love.

-

04:02 p.m.

The world has grown quiet around you, the buzz of the city dimmed to a distant hum as you sit alone on a park bench overlooking the river. The sun dips low in the sky, painting the water with hues of gold and amber. You clutch Hyunjin's jacket tighter around your shoulders, the scent of him still lingering faintly, a bittersweet reminder of everything you've lost—and everything you're about to gain.

The list he left behind is tucked into your pocket, crumpled and worn from your grip throughout the day. You pull it out, scanning the list. There’s only one thing left, unfinished: “Buys roses for…”

He hadn’t finished the sentence. You remember startling him as he jotted it down, and now the incomplete thought feels like a cruel echo. But you know what to do.

You find the nearest florist and step inside, the smell of flowers overwhelming you. "Roses," you tell the florist, your voice quiet but firm. "A bouquet of red roses."

They hand you the bouquet, the petals deep and vibrant, reminiscent of Hyunjin’s flushed cheeks and his soft lips. You trace a fingertip over the delicate blooms before asking for a card.

Sitting at a small table in the corner of the shop, you stare at the blank card. The weight of all you want to say crushes you, an endless stream of emotions that can’t possibly fit onto a single piece of paper.

Still, you write:

For what it’s worth, you showed me that there is such a thing as a perfect day. You made a mark on me, Hyunjin.

Your hand shakes as you finish the words. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, willing the tears to stay at bay. When you’re ready, you fold the card and slip it into the bouquet.

You stand at the corner of the street, clutching the bouquet of roses close to your chest as you wait for the light to turn. The city hums around you, alive and indifferent, the world moving on as it always does. But your mind drifts elsewhere, carried away by memories.

This was the place you met Hyunjin for the first time. You can almost see him standing there, smiling like the world belonged to him. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet so vivid it could have been yesterday. You replay the moment in your mind, the way he held himself with an effortless grace, the way his eyes met yours and lingered, as if he'd been waiting for you his entire life.

The light changes, and the crowd around you begins to move. Lost in your thoughts, you follow them, stepping onto the street.

A distant sound reaches your ears—a horn blaring, tires screeching—but it feels far away, as if it belongs to another world. By the time you register the rushing car, it’s too late. There’s no time to scream, no time to run.

This is it.

-

06:11 p.m.

The world comes back to you in fragments: the cool roughness of asphalt beneath your body, the distant murmur of voices, the sharp tang of blood in the air. Your vision swims, but when it clears, the twilight sky is the first thing you see.

It’s beautiful, painted in hues of lavender and gold, with the faintest blush of pink at the edges. The sight feels distant yet oddly comforting, like a gentle reminder of where you are—and where you’re going.

Your body is heavy, the pain a dull throb that seems to ebb and flow, fading as the seconds stretch on. You’re dimly aware of the rose petals scattered around you, spinning lazily in the air with every gust of wind. They look like they’re floating, as if gravity itself has softened its grip.

You close your eyes briefly and feel something shift inside you—a strange sense of clarity. This is it. You know it, feel it in your very bones. This is your ending.

But there’s no fear. Instead, a deep, resounding calm washes over you, carrying with it the promise of reunion. Hyunjin’s face fills your mind, vivid and bright, his laughter echoing in your ears, his touch still lingering on your skin.

You force your eyes open again, taking in the petals that now rest lightly against your arm, the faint scent of roses mingling with the cool evening air. A soft smile tugs at your lips, even as your breaths come slower, shallower.

Death is not an end, you think. It’s a reunion. It’s a promise kept. It’s my happy ending.

Somewhere in the distance, you hear sirens, but they feel like they belong to another world entirely. You’re beyond that now. Your heart slows, the pain dulls, and in its place is an overwhelming sense of peace.

The light in the sky begins to blur, stars flickering faintly above as if welcoming you home. You can almost feel him, his hand in yours, his voice calling your name like a melody you’ve always known.

Tears slip down your cheeks, but they’re not from sorrow. They’re from relief, from the quiet joy of knowing you’ll see him again, touch him again, love him again.

As the world fades, you exhale one last time, your voice barely a whisper in the wind. “I’m coming, Hyunjin.”

And then there’s nothing but light.

-

Support my writings by kindly reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @minh0scat @simplymoo @inlovewithstraykids

[joelsrose]

Good Neighbours: Chapter 5

previous chapter Warnings: again SMUT 18+ !!!!!! Hey cuties - this is my fave chapter so far enjoyyyy

You hadn’t properly seen Joel in a week.

Not since that near-disastrous moment on his couch, where you lay bare, your skin warm against his, and Uncle Ray almost caught you two in the act. The memory lingered like a spark refusing to die out, igniting every time you thought about him.

Joel had been swamped with work—construction jobs piling up—and you’d recently started at a cozy little coffee shop in town. The job suited you more than you expected. Your boss was kind, the tips were decent, and you got free iced lattes, which was reason enough to stick around.

The café itself was charming, all bathed in golden sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. Dogs were welcome, often lounging at their owners’ feet or wagging tails at the smell of pastries. The constant aroma of freshly brewed coffee felt like a warm hug, soothing enough to make the hours slip by.

Yet, no matter how busy you were, your thoughts had a pesky habit of wandering to Joel—what he was doing, if he was thinking about you, too.

A silly notion, you told yourself, but it clung to you nonetheless.

You’d catch fleeting glimpses of him here and there, as neighbors inevitably do.

Each moment was like a stolen treasure, a tiny lifeline. Lingering gazes across the lawn as he unloaded groceries from his truck, the flex of his strong arms as he lifted heavy bags. The way his lips curved into a soft, crooked smile when he caught your eye, making your chest tighten in a way you’d never admit out loud.

He was right next door, but somehow, it didn’t feel close enough.

🕸️───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────🕸️

Joel found himself constantly wondering about you.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what he told himself—but you’d snuck into his thoughts and set up camp there. It started innocently enough with a few texts, a casual way of checking in. But soon, it became a nightly ritual, one he couldn’t seem to let go of. Not that you wanted him to.

During meetings with Tommy, he’d find his attention slipping, his gaze drifting toward his phone, willing it to light up with your reply. Tommy would joke about Joel zoning out, but Joel couldn’t bring himself to care.

At night, when he was supposed to be winding down, he’d break his own rules about screen time—something about the blue light messing with sleep, a lecture he’d once given Sarah. But with you, he’d stay up later than he should, typing out messages he hoped would make you smile, waiting for the little dots that meant you were typing back.

On your end, it wasn’t much different. You’d catch yourself glancing at your phone during your shift, sneaking peeks whenever you thought no one was looking.

Every buzz, every time his name lit up your screen, sent a thrill through you, the corners of your mouth betraying you with a twitch upward.

It was funny, almost disarming, how Joel could shift so effortlessly between the quintessential dad—practical, steady, and full of quiet concern—and the man who made your heart race with just a few words.

Didn’t you say your iron was low? Eat something with spinach, alright?

How’s work? Hope they’re not runnin’ you ragged.

My back is killing me today. Feels like I’m older than I am. Gonna have to start using one of those canes soon.

And then, completely out of the blue:

Can’t stop thinking about you.

Those five words sent your stomach flipping in a way that left you grinning like a fool, coworkers sneaking curious glances your way. It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it, like he couldn’t help but check in on you.

Even in the middle of a hectic day or when his back ached from hours on-site, you’d managed to stake a claim on his thoughts. Somehow, you’d become his favorite distraction.

You thought back to your ex, and the stark difference hit you like a wave. You two had hardly texted—just the occasional logistics or a dry, obligatory reply. What time are you coming over? Don’t forget to grab milk. It was functional, transactional, like checking off items on a to-do list rather than nurturing something deeper.

He would go hours, sometimes days, without a word, and you’d told yourself it was normal, that he was just busy. But now, with Joel, you realized how much you had craved this—someone who cared enough to reach out, to ask how you were, to share the little things.

Joel didn’t need an excuse to text you. It had become second nature, these little windows into his life that he shared with you. Sometimes it was the simple stuff—a snapshot of his day, random musings, or just checking in to make sure you were okay.

Saw a dog today that looked like it wanted to fight me for my sandwich, he’d written once, and you’d laughed out loud, imagining his bemused expression, the corners of his mouth twitching in that way you’d come to love.

And then there was the way every day ended the same. You’d curl up in bed, your phone resting on the pillow beside you, waiting for that final message.

Goodnight, pretty girl.

🕸️───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────🕸️

It was Halloween, and you couldn’t quite believe it—how had it already been nearly two months since you’d moved here? Your life in Chicago felt like a distant memory, like a bad dream you’d finally woken up from. You thought back to Halloween in the city: your ex’s bougie friends hosting over-the-top parties where everyone tried too hard, and you’d always felt out of place, like a last-minute addition to a world you didn’t quite fit into.

Now, you stood outside Sarah’s door, the faint hum of music and laughter spilling out into the warm Texas evening. A case of drinks rested in your arms, its weight grounding you as Uncle Ray fussed with his costume beside you.

As usual, he’d gone all out, making you feel underdressed in comparison. This time, he was Beetlejuice, the black-and-white striped suit as loud and chaotic as his personality. His face was powdered ghostly pale, with exaggerated dark circles around his eyes, and the wild green-tinted wig sat slightly crooked on his head, no matter how much he fussed with it.

You couldn’t help but smile, remembering another Halloween from years ago when he’d gone just as over the top. That time, he’d been Edward Scissorhands—his shirt a perfect patchwork of leather straps and buckles, his face painted pale with dark shadows under his eyes that made him look both haunting and oddly endearing. He’d worn ridiculously oversized scissor gloves that clanked every time he moved, and he kept accidentally knocking into things, muttering under his breath about the impracticality of the costume.

He muttered under his breath now, adjusting his latest wig for the hundredth time, the same way he had back then. “It’s the wig that makes it, you know,” he grumbled, shooting you a mock-serious look.

You were dressed as predictably as every other girl on Halloween: an angel. A fitted corset hugged your torso, while the soft white skirt flowed delicately to your mid-thigh, catching the faint glow of the porch light. Glitter dusted your cheeks, shimmering faintly every time you moved, and the matching wings on your back fluttered slightly as you shifted the drinks in your arms. A delicate silver halo rested above your head, perched perfectly.

It was simple, classic—maybe even cliché—but it felt right.

Joel had texted you the night before, curious as ever.

Hey sweet girl, what're you dressing up as tomorrow?

Sweet girl. The words made your cheeks heat instantly, and you had to bite back a smile as your heart fluttered in your chest.

Nuh-uh, you’re gonna have to wait and find out, you typed back, already grinning at the thought of him sitting there, his brows furrowed in frustration in that way that always made your stomach flip.

You’re impossible, he replied, and you could practically hear the exasperation in his voice.

You can guess... you offered, biting your lip as you hit send, your anticipation growing.

There was a pause—a long one—and you could just picture him on the other end, thinking it over, his mind running through possibilities. Then, finally, his response appeared: Something sweet. You’re not the scary type. Bunny? Fairy?

You couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt, shaking your head as you typed back: You’ll just have to wait and see.

You can be a real tease, he sent, followed by a 👎, which only made you laugh harder.

The door flung open pulling you back from your daydream, and there was Sarah, leaning heavily against the frame with a wide, tipsy grin on her face.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, her voice rising with excitement as her eyes flicked between the two of you. “You guys look amazing!”

She was dressed as a pirate, of course—a cheeky, haphazardly sexy one at that. Her loose white blouse was cinched at the waist with a wide belt, her tattered black skirt swishing just above her knees. A red bandana was tied around her head, matching the sash draped over one shoulder. She had smudged dark eyeliner around her eyes, giving her the perfect roguish look, and a plastic sword dangled from her hip.

“Ray, that is insane! Beetlejuice? You look like you walked straight off the set!” Sarah exclaimed, swatting at his striped sleeve as she doubled over laughing.

Ray, never one to miss an opportunity to perform, gave an exaggerated bow. “Why, thank ya, thank ya!” he said, his voice gravelly as he mimicked Beetlejuice’s signature tone. “Show’s just gettin’ started, folks!”

Sarah laughed harder, wiping at her eyes before turning her attention to you. Her grin widened as she took in your costume, her eyes sparkling. “And you—” she said dramatically, grabbing your wrist to pull you closer, “are the sexiest angel I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks, Sarah,” you replied, your cheeks heating despite yourself as her enthusiasm bubbled over.

She tugged you inside without hesitation, her laughter spilling into the warm glow of the party. Ray followed close behind, still in character, muttering something Beetlejuice-esque under his breath that had Sarah clutching her stomach, dissolving into another fit of giggles.

Your heart skipped a beat as Sarah handed you a drink, her pirate hat slipping askew as she leaned in to shout over the music. “Alright, let’s get this party started!” she yelled, raising her glass with a wide grin.

You laughed, raising yours in response, though your mind wasn’t quite on the celebration. Your eyes flickered around the room, scanning faces, colors, and costumes, searching for one thing in particular—or rather, one person.

🕸️───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────🕸️

You stood by the kitchen, chatting idly with a few of Sarah’s friends. The conversation ebbed and flowed, laughter bubbling up every now and then, but your focus wasn’t entirely on the people around you. You couldn’t help but steal glances across the room as you took a sip of your drink, and it wasn’t long before your heart jolted at the sight of him.

Joel.

He stood by Uncle Ray, half-listening to something your uncle was saying, his hand resting on his belt as he laughed softly, another one wrapped around a beer.

He’d dressed as a cowboy. A sexy one at that.

A fitted plaid shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, rolled up at the sleeves to reveal tanned, corded forearms. A dark leather belt with a silver buckle sat low on his hips, the fabric of his jeans snug in a way that made your thoughts feel indecent.

And, of course, the finishing touch: a weathered cowboy hat tilted just enough to shadow his eyes, making him look like he’d just stepped out of an old western porno.

The dim lighting caught the stubble along his jaw, giving him an air of ruggedness that made your stomach tighten. He looked good—too good—and it wasn’t fair.

Then, as if he felt you watching him, he turned. His dark eyes found yours across the room, catching you so off-guard you nearly spilled your drink.

For a moment, he just stared, his gaze dragging over you in a slow, deliberate once-over.

His lips parted slightly, and he shook his head, almost like he was trying to clear his mind of whatever had just crossed it. Then he dipped his hat at you, a silent greeting that sent your pulse skittering.

You managed a small nod in return, your fingers tightening around your glass as if that could keep you tethered to the ground.

The person you’d been talking to excused themselves, mumbling something about the bathroom before slipping away. You were left alone in the kitchen, the dim amber light casting a soft glow over the countertops. The quiet hum of the party buzzed in the background as you picked at a bowl of chips, trying to distract yourself from how strong your drink was—or how your thoughts kept straying back to Joel.

Joel stepped closer, his familiar warmth and smell wrapping around you. The way he said “Howdy” sent a shiver down your spine, his voice warm and smooth, like a drawl dipped in honey. He was too close now, close enough that you were glad the kitchen was dim, hiding the flush creeping up your neck.

“Cowboy,” you said, your voice low and teasing. “Bit predictable, isn’t it?”

His lips curved into a smirk as he laughed softly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and settling somewhere in yours. “And you,” he said, his gaze lingering on your face a moment too long, “think a devil would’ve suited you better.” He tilted his head slightly, the movement slow and deliberate, like he was studying you, savoring every little reaction you gave him.

Your brows arched, playing along. “Why’s that?”

He leaned in, tapping the side of your temple lightly with his index finger. “These thoughts,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, “ain’t exactly heavenly, are they?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. “Maybe not,” you admitted, your words barely above a whisper.

Joel chuckled again, his hand dropping back to rest on the kitchen counter, but the sound lingered in the space between you, filling the air with a warmth you wished you could memorize.

“Your uncle went all out,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting Ray to come barreling through the door in full Beetlejuice regalia.

“I know,” you replied, laughing softly. “He’s actually scaring me a little.”

Joel laughed again, his head tilting back just enough for you to catch the faintest glimpse of his throat. The sound was intoxicating, deep and rich, and you found yourself wishing you could hear it on repeat.

He looked around the kitchen, his beer in one hand. The way his fingers curved around the neck of the bottle, the strength in them apparent even in this simple gesture.

Sarah and Ray were nowhere to be seen. The distant murmur of the party seemed to fade into the background as Joel turned back to you. His eyes darkened as they traveled down your body, lingering just a beat too long on the corset that cinched your waist.

The soft, white fabric hugged your curves perfectly, the delicate lace trim dipping low enough to tease, revealing just a tantalizing hint of cleavage in the dim light. His gaze roamed lower, catching on the sheer white stockings that clung to your thighs, held up by delicate lace garters that framed the bare expanse of skin just above them. The way his eyes lingered made your breath catch, the tension in the air crackling as you saw the faintest flicker of something dangerous in his expression—like he was trying, and failing, not to let his thoughts run wild.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, the word rough and barely audible.

“What’s wrong, cowboy?” you asked, tilting your head as you stepped just a fraction closer, your lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Whose thoughts are impure now?”

He huffed, his jaw tightening as he set his beer down on the counter, the sound of glass meeting it sharp and deliberate. His fingers brushed against the surface with an almost irritated carelessness, his usual steadiness faltering under the weight of whatever storm was brewing in his mind.

Joel’s eyes flicked around the room once more, but when his gaze landed back on you, his resolve seemed to snap, quicker and sharper than you expected.

“Go upstairs,” he said, his voice low, commanding, each word dripping with a tension that sent a shiver racing down your spine. “My room. I’ll meet you there in five.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift, but the heat pooling low in your stomach made it impossible to question him. You’d never seen Joel this assertive before, his calm, controlled demeanor giving way to something raw, something primal—and God, it did something to you.

Your heart skipped, your breath hitching as his words sank in. He didn’t wait for a reply, his eyes locked on yours for a moment longer before he stepped back, the space between you suddenly too vast and too charged all at once.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you wove through the crowd, barely noticing the laughter and music around you. The way he looked at you, like he was barely holding himself together, sent your pulse into a frenzy as you turned on shaky legs and headed for the stairs.

The heat of anticipation spread through your body, making it hard to breathe. Every step toward Joel’s room felt heavier, charged with the weight of what might happen.

When you finally reached it, you pushed the door open and stepped inside, shutting it softly behind you.

🕸️───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────🕸️

It was the first time you had been in his room.

The room was simple, masculine, and undeniably him. The faint scent of cedarwood and something earthier—something distinctly Joel—lingered in the air. A neatly made bed dominated the space, the dark, plain sheets looking as if they’d been freshly smoothed that morning. A well-worn jacket hung over the back of a chair near the window, and a pair of scuffed boots rested by the corner, their placement almost methodical.

The light was soft, the dim glow of a single bedside lamp casting golden hues across the room. It illuminated the dresser, where your gaze landed on a photo—a younger Joel with Sarah, both of them smiling, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. The sight tugged at something deep in your chest, a quiet reminder of the man who’d let you in here, both in his space and maybe, just maybe, his life.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you felt the cool sheets beneath your hands, grounding you for a moment. Your nerves churned in your stomach, and you wished desperately that you’d finished your drink downstairs. Anything to take the edge off the racing thoughts in your mind.

Your halo felt awkward now, too on-the-nose. You reached up, pulling it off and setting it down on the bed beside you. For a moment, you considered taking off the wings too, but before you could decide, you heard the sound of footsteps.

As promised, exactly five minutes later, the door creaked open, and Joel stepped in. The sound of the lock clicking into place behind him sent a jolt through you. He stood there for a moment, the soft light catching the sharp line of his jaw, the brim of his cowboy hat throwing shadows over his dark, unreadable eyes. His presence filled the room, and all the air seemed to vanish at once.

“Angel,” he said softly, his voice low and heavy, as he turned to face you fully. "Up," he commanded, his voice firm yet impossibly soft, and before you could even process it, your body obeyed. You stood, heart racing, your knees feeling shaky under the weight of his gaze.

He sank down onto the edge of the bed where you had been sitting, his legs slightly parted as he leaned back, his movements unhurried but deliberate. His eyes raked over you, dark and smoldering, as he patted his lap. “C’mere.”

You moved toward him, stepping between his knees before settling on his lap. His hands immediately found your hips, guiding you to straddle him, the hem of your dress creeping up with the motion. The cool air kissed your exposed thighs, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from him. The stockings that hooked onto your garters were now entirely visible, and his gaze dropped, lingering for a moment before meeting yours again.

That was all it took for Joel to tilt his head and capture your mouth with his. The kiss was hungry, almost desperate, as though the tension between you had finally snapped, spilling over in waves of raw, unrestrained need. His lips moved feverishly against yours, claiming you in a way that made your knees weak. His hands, strong and sure, slid from your back to cup your ass, squeezing hungrily as he pulled you against him.

“You’re so sexy,” he murmured, his voice thick and low, as his large hands splayed against your lower back, pressing you flush against him. His words sent a thrill through you, the heat pooling low in your belly as you instinctively rolled your hips down against him. The pressure sent sparks skittering through your body, and a soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

He tasted faintly of beer, a heady mix that made your head spin. The faint scruff on his jaw scraped deliciously against your skin, grounding you in the intensity of the moment. You moaned softly into his mouth, the sound muffled but not unnoticed. His grip on you tightened in response, his fingers digging into your flesh as though he couldn’t get enough.

Your hands threaded through his hair, curling at the base of his neck where it was soft and slightly damp with sweat. His response was immediate—a low, guttural sound that vibrated against your lips. His hands fumbled with the wings on your back, his movements impatient as he tried to rid himself of the obstacle. They were nothing more than an afterthought now, discarded with a few rough tugs onto the floor.

The space between you dissolved completely as he pulled you closer still, your bodies flush. His kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that made your head tilt back, giving him the perfect angle to devour you further. Every touch, every movement, felt like fire, consuming you both in the quiet heat of the moment, leaving nothing untouched by its flame.

Your mind clouded with the heat of it all, and before you even realized what you were doing, you began to shift off his lap, your knees brushing the floor as you intended to sink down. But Joel’s hands caught your wrists, stopping you.

“Nuh-uh,” he murmured, his voice rough but teasing. “Wanna try somethin first’.”

Your breath hitched as you stood, his hands steadying you as he knelt slightly to unhook your underwear. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost reverent, but purposeful enough to make your head spin. The soft white lace slipped down your legs, pooling at your feet before you stepped out of them. You were so lost in the moment, in the heat of his touch, that you didn’t notice the way he curled the delicate fabric in his hand and tucked it under the edge of the bed, as if he were keeping it for later.

Then, with surprising ease, he adjusted you, positioning you so that your legs straddled one of his thighs. Your bare skin hovered just above the rough, worn denim of his jeans, and your hands instinctively found their place against his chest to steady yourself. His warmth seeped into you, even through the fabric, and the closeness made it impossible to think straight.

“Joel?” you questioned, your voice breathless and unsure, but his name on your lips felt electric.

“Trust me,” he said softly, his hands resting on your hips. His thumbs brushed against your skin in slow, soothing circles. “Take what you need.”

“What?” you breathed, your voice a mix of confusion and disbelief, your cheeks already burning.

“Come on,” Joel murmured, his hands firm on your hips as he lifted his thigh slightly. The motion pressed the rough fabric of his jeans against your swollen clit, the sudden pressure making you gasp. Your body jerked forward, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance, and you were suddenly, achingly aware of just how close you were to him.

“I’ve never…” you started, your voice trembling, but the words trailed off.

Joel tilted his head, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile as his dark eyes stayed locked on yours. “Never ridden a man’s thigh before?” he murmured, his voice warm and patient, laced with just enough affection to make your cheeks flush.

You shook your head slightly, your breath catching as his words settled over you.

“That’s alright,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your sides in a slow, soothing motion, his thumbs brushing over your ribs before settling firmly on your hips.

His touch was steady, grounding, as if to remind you he wasn’t going anywhere. “I got ya,” he added, his voice soft but commanding, the promise in his tone wrapping around you like a tether.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your ears. But the way he looked at you—steady, reassuring, full of something that felt like trust—made you nod, eager to please him.

His voice was low, a rumble that seemed to vibrate in your chest. “Go ahead, baby,” he urged, his eyes locked on yours, dark and heavy with intent.

Slowly, you began to move your hips, rocking back and forth against his thigh. The friction was unlike anything you’d ever felt, the roughness of his jeans against your bare cunt, igniting sparks that spread through your body with every motion.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging to him as you found a rhythm. The sensation was overwhelming, intoxicating, and you couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped your lips. Joel’s hands guided you, his grip firm but gentle, encouraging as you moved.

“There ya go,” he cooed, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His voice was low and molten, making your skin prickle. “Feel good?” he asked, his breath warm and teasing.

You nodded quickly, your movements becoming more confident as you chased the building heat inside you. “Y-yeah,” you managed to say, your voice shaky but sincere.

“Good,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours, dark and full of something primal. “That’s my girl.”

You kept moving your hips, faster now, the desperation building with every roll of your body against Joel’s thigh. The friction was maddening, deliciously unbearable, sending sparks shooting through your body with every movement.

Your breath came faster, harder, the small room filling with the sound of your panting, the creak of the bed beneath you, and the faint rustle of denim against your skin. The bass of the party thumped faintly in the background, a distant reminder of the world outside this charged, intimate moment.

Joel caught the change in your rhythm, the way your body trembled as you edged closer to the peak. His hands tightened on your hips, grounding you as he began lifting his thigh to meet your movements. The added pressure made you whimper, your head falling forward as your hands clutched at his shoulders.

“Is my sweet girl getting close?” he cooed, his voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “Look so desperate for me.”

His words hit you like a spark to dry tinder, igniting the heat already pooling low in your belly. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging in slightly as your rhythm faltered for just a moment. You nodded quickly, unable to form words, the intensity of his attention making your chest tighten.

You glanced down, unable to help yourself, and gasped at what you saw. The dark denim beneath you was damp, a growing wetness marking the spot where your body met his jeans. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but before you could say anything, Joel’s deep voice cut through your haze.

“Making a fuckin’ mess,” he murmured, his words rough and laced with desire as he watched you. His eyes flicked back to yours, dark and heavy-lidded, and the sight of his gaze alone sent you spiraling.

His thigh bounced slightly beneath you, the movement sending a wave of sensation that pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, every nerve alight as you grabbed at his hair, clutching desperately as your release crashed through you. “Take it, darlin’,” he said again, his tone softer now, almost reverent. “It’s all yours.”

“Joel!” you yelled, his name tearing from your lips as the pleasure overwhelmed you, raw and unrelenting.

He held you through it, his hands steadying your trembling form, his thigh still pressed against you as your body shuddered with aftershocks. The low hum of his voice reached your ears, soft and soothing as he murmured something you couldn’t quite make out, lost in the haze of your bliss.

"Good girl," Joel murmured, his voice rough and full of praise as his fingers dipped into your heat, drawing a gasp from your lips. He lifted them to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he tasted you. His tongue swept over his fingers slowly, deliberately, and he hummed low in his throat.

“So sweet,” he said, his voice husky, the words making your already trembling legs feel like jelly.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice still hazy and breathless, the sound of his name barely more than a plea.

He smiled, a slow, crooked grin that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. But this time, when you shifted, sliding off his lap and onto your knees, he didn’t stop you. His gaze darkened, his jaw tightening as he realized your intent.

You knelt before him, your hands sliding up his thighs as you looked up, meeting his heated gaze. You wanted to make him feel as good as he’d made you feel, to see him come undone the way you just had.

“Darlin’,” he rasped, his voice low and strained as his hands came to rest on your shoulders, his fingers brushing over your skin. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you interrupted, your voice steady now despite the trembling in your hands. Your eyes stayed locked on his as your fingers went to work, determined to show him just how much you wanted to please him.

You worked quickly, your hands moving to undo the buckle of his belt. Joel lifted his hips without a word, giving you the space to pull the rough material down his legs until it pooled around his ankles. The sound of the zipper, the rustle of denim—it was all so raw, so intimate, and it sent a thrill through you.

Settling between his thighs, you shifted, finding a position that gave you enough room. The hard wood beneath your knees burned slightly, the sensation grounding you amidst the haze of arousal.

Your hands rested on his thighs for a moment, feeling the heat of his skin through the faint shadow of his boxers. Joel watched you intently, his chest rising and falling as his breath grew heavier, his hands twitching at his sides as though he were fighting the urge to reach out and touch you.

You hesitated only briefly before curling your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, your eyes flicking up to meet his for silent confirmation. His nod was small, but the intensity in his gaze said everything you needed to know. Slowly, you eased the fabric down, freeing him completely, and the sight of him made your breath hitch.

You couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped your lips, your eyes widening slightly as you took him in. He was bigger than you’d imagined, and for a moment, a flicker of nervousness passed through you. You’d never been with someone so big before, and the thought sent a rush of anticipation mixed with a twinge of doubt through your veins.

But it was delicious, the way his length stood, proud and imposing, the sight of the tip glistening slightly under the dim light. The rawness of it, the sheer intimacy of seeing him like this, sent a shiver through you. It was overwhelming, yes, but also intoxicating in a way you hadn’t anticipated, stirring a deep, primal need you couldn’t ignore.

“My angel,” he murmured, his tone soft yet filled with something that made your chest ache. He lifted one hand, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek, grounding you in the moment. The contrast of his touch—so gentle despite the intensity of his presence—sent a warm shiver through you.

You wrapped your hand around him, the warmth of him in your palm making your breath hitch. Slowly, deliberately, you began to move, your strokes measured as you pumped him in your hand.

You wanted to savor this moment, to memorize the way he looked—the sharp rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips parted into a soft, breathless "O" as his head tipped back.

Joel’s eyes fluttered shut, his jaw tightening as your movements continued. The muscles in his thighs tensed beneath your touch, and you felt a surge of pride at the way he was already unraveling for you.

Encouraged, you worked faster, your grip tightening just enough to pull a low, guttural sound from his throat. “Shit, darlin’,” he stuttered, his voice hoarse and heavy, the drawl thickened by the haze of pleasure. His hands gripped the bed, knuckles white as he fought to keep himself steady.

The sound of his voice, the raw need in it, sent a rush of heat through you and you grew yourself growing wetter, if that were even possible. You leaned closer, your lips ghosting over the sensitive skin just above where your hands worked. You wanted to drive him to the edge, to see him lose himself completely under your touch.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his tip, your lips grazing his heated skin. Your tongue darted out, painting slow, deliberate stripes up and down his side, tasting him, teasing him, while your hands continued their steady rhythm. Joel let out a sharp breath, a low growl escaping him that made your stomach tighten.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp that sent shivers through you. His eyes opened briefly, dark and hooded as they fixed on you. “So fuckin’ pretty on your knees for me,” he panted, his voice ragged and uneven, each word laced with desire.

The words made you hum against him, the sound vibrating softly against his skin. His reaction was immediate—a curse slipping from his lips as his head tilted back again, exposing the strong line of his throat.

The sight made your movements bolder, more confident, as you worked him with your hands and tongue, coaxing more of those delicious sounds from him.

Joel reached up with one hand, his fingers gripping the brim of his hat. He pulled it off and, with deliberate care, placed it on your head, the action so intimate it sent a flush of heat spreading through your chest.

“Keep goin’,” he muttered, his voice rough, his free hand sliding to the back of your head. His fingers tangled gently in your hair, holding you in place, not forceful, but guiding, like he couldn’t bear the thought of you stopping.

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his as you continued, your lips and hands working in perfect tandem. His gaze burned into yours, his chest heaving with every shaky breath. “That’s it, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “Just like that.”

You could tell he was close—the way his hips began to stutter, thrusting upwards into your mouth in shallow, needy motions. His breathing turned ragged, and his grip on your hair tightened, not painfully, but enough to let you know he was barely holding on.

The sounds he made, low groans and curses, were a symphony of pleasure that sent heat pooling in your belly.

It was almost too much—the fullness, the way he moved, the way he tasted. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t stop, determined to see him through. You hollowed your cheeks, working him deeper, and his response was immediate.

“Fuck,” Joel groaned, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that made your heart race. His head tipped back, and his thighs tensed beneath your hands as he asked, his words almost slurred, “Where does my pretty girl want me?”

You managed to speak around him, your answer muffled but clear enough, “My mouth.”

The way it came out, slightly garbled but eager, made him laugh, a breathless, strained sound that sent a thrill through you. “My dirty girl,” he murmured, his tone almost affectionate.

With one final thrust, he tipped over the edge, his body going taut as he finished, his hips pressing upwards one last time. You took him as best as you could, the salty sensation overwhelming but not unwelcome. His hand stayed in your hair, steadying you as he groaned your name, his voice filled with raw pleasure.

You pulled away slowly, swallowing as you did, the warmth of him still lingering on your tongue. A thin string of saliva connected you to him, glistening in the dim light, lewd and intimate. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your knees aching from the unforgiving floor, but the satisfaction in Joel’s eyes made it all worth it.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice rough and unsteady as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. His eyes stayed on you for a moment, his gaze dark and unreadable, before he reached down to pull his jeans back up, fastening them with practiced ease. The sight of him—still slightly undone but regaining his composure—sent a flush of heat through you all over again.

Joel adjusted his belt, the faint clink of the buckle breaking the quiet as he glanced down at you. His eyes softened, and the corner of his mouth quirked into something that carried a warmth that made your heart stutter.

“You alright, darlin’?” he asked, his voice lower now, touched with a tenderness that made your chest ache. His gaze lingered on you, affectionate and unguarded, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you in this moment.

You nodded, brushing a strand of hair from your face as you sat back on your heels, the weight of the moment settling over you. “Yeah,” you managed, your voice hoarse but steady.

Joel reached down, offering you his hand, and the warmth of his touch as he helped you to your feet sent a fresh wave of tingles up your spine.

“My pretty girl,” he murmured, the words barely above a whisper, but they landed with the weight of something profound. His voice was warm, filled with a quiet affection that made your chest ache in the best way.

You didn’t know how much truth those words held—how much you could dare to believe in them—but you needed them. You needed him. You loved the way they sounded coming from his mouth, the way he claimed you with such easy confidence, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

You loved being his, even if you didn’t quite know what being his meant.

Joel helped you to your feet, his strong hands steadying you as you wobbled slightly, your knees still shaky. You found yourself standing between his thighs, his hands settling instinctively on your hips. His gaze traveled up to meet yours, soft and searching, and the warmth in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

“Was that alright?” you asked, your voice quiet, almost unsure.

He looked at you like you’d just asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “You’re jokin’, right?” His lips curved into a lazy grin as his fingers traced small, comforting circles over your hips.

“Got the most perfect mouth on ya, darlin’,” Joel murmured, his voice low and gravelly, thick with lingering satisfaction. His words made your cheeks flush, a warm, pink hue spreading across your skin as you looked away for a moment, embarrassed by the compliment.

Joel’s gaze softened, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched you. He couldn’t help but marvel at how someone who had just undone him so completely—so filthily—could still look so innocent, so sweetly flustered. It was a contradiction that sent a deep, simmering warmth through him, making him feel both protective and utterly captivated.

He reached out, brushing his thumb gently against your cheek, his touch light and almost reverent. His eyes flicked up, catching sight of the cowboy hat still perched on your head, and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“What?” you asked, frowning slightly at his sudden amusement.

“Mixin’ costumes now,” he teased, gesturing at the angelic white of your outfit beneath his hat.

You laughed, reaching up to take it off, but his hand shot out, stopping you. “Wait,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Wanna remember this.”

“Joel,” you muttered, your cheeks flushing all over again.

“Smile,” he said, ignoring your protest as he angled the phone at you. The flash went off, capturing the moment in an intimate snapshot.

You could only imagine what you looked like—wide-eyed, cheeks flushed, your lips still red and slightly swollen, with his cowboy hat askew on your head.

Somehow, despite everything, you looked angelic. Maybe even innocent.

You sighed but smiled softly as he lowered the phone. “Show me,” you murmured, stepping closer to him. You eased onto his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck as you leaned in to peek at the screen.

He tilted the phone so you could see, his voice low and filled with quiet reverence as he said, “You’re perfect.”

Your breath caught at the sincerity in his tone, your heart stumbling over the weight of his words. “I’m not,” you huffed softly, your cheeks burning as you burrowed your face into the crook of his neck, seeking solace in the warmth of him.

His scent surrounded you—earthy, faintly musky —and you couldn’t help but think about how you’d stay there forever if you could.

“Nuh-uh,” he murmured, his voice soft but resolute as you felt him shake his head. His hand rested against your back, steady and reassuring. “Not fightin’ you on this, honey. You’re perfect.”

Before you could argue, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, his lips warm and tender, sending a shiver through you. The warmth of it lingered long after his lips left your skin, a quiet promise that echoed in the quiet room, wrapping around you like a blanket.

Joel didn’t need to say anything else—his touch, his tone, the way he held you—it all said enough.

“Take a selfie,” you said suddenly, grinning as the idea popped into your head.

“A what?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly.

“How old are you?” you teased, laughing softly.

Realization dawned on his face, and he chuckled. “Oh, the one where it’s of us.”

“Yes,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully.

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he turned the camera toward the two of you. “Alright, alright” he murmured, his tone playful but warm. You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek just as he snapped the photo.

The photo was simple but intimate: your lips pressed softly against his cheek, your smile warm and genuine, while his own smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. But it was his eyes that stood out most—softened in a way he didn’t even know he was capable of, like you’d reached some part of him he hadn’t let anyone else touch in years.

For a moment, Joel stared at the image on the screen, his thumb brushing over the edge of his phone as though it could capture more than just the pixels on display.

He thought about how, in another lifetime, he’d make it his wallpaper. How he’d keep this version of you—happy, radiant, his—on his phone, a constant reminder of a moment he never wanted to forget.

But that was a thought he’d keep to himself, tucked away somewhere deep and quiet, too fragile to speak aloud - yet.

“Cute,” you murmured, your voice quieter now, almost shy.

“Very,” he replied, his voice low and warm.

Before either of you could say anything more, a notification popped up on his screen: a text from Sarah.

DAD WHERE ARE YOUUUU? NEED MORE DRINKS?!?!? HELLOOOO.

Joel groaned, letting his head fall back for a moment before sighing. “We better get goin’,” he said reluctantly.

Neither of you moved right away, though, both wishing you could stay in the quiet sanctuary of his room forever, wrapped in the intimacy that had settled between you.

Eventually, Joel shifted, his hands brushing against your hips as he helped you stand, the spell breaking just slightly as the sounds of the party filtered back into your awareness.

“C’mon,” Joel said, his voice softer now, a reluctant sigh slipping from his lips. “Let’s not keep her waitin’.”

You started to follow him, but a sudden thought froze you in place, the sensation of feeling bare dawning on you all at once. “Wait,” you said quickly, your voice a hushed whisper. “My underwear.”

Joel paused mid-step, glancing back over his shoulder with a smirk so devilish it sent heat rushing to your cheeks. “What about it?” he asked, his tone far too casual for your liking.

“You know what,” you hissed, your eyes narrowing at him.

He shrugged, his smirk deepening as he leaned slightly on the banister, unbothered by your flustered expression. “Consider it… a keepsake,” he drawled, his voice laced with teasing amusement.

“Joel,” you whispered harshly, your tone a mix of disbelief and embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” he said with a wink, turning to head down the stairs. “It’s in safe hands.”

“You asshole,” you muttered under your breath, glaring after him as he disappeared into the noise of the party below. But despite your annoyance, you couldn’t stop the way your lips twitched into a small, begrudging smile.

He had that effect on you, damn him.

🕸️───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────🕸️

“Where’d you go?” Sarah asked, her words slurred as she swayed slightly, her pirate hat tilting precariously. She blinked up at you, a lopsided grin on her face.

“I, uh, had to use the bathroom,” you said quickly, trying to sound casual as you held onto your drink like a lifeline.

“Oh, okay,” she said, nodding as if that explained everything. Then her brow furrowed slightly, her gaze sharpening—well, as much as it could in her drunken state. “You’re having fun, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “A lot of fun.”

She grinned again, satisfied, but then her eyes roved over you, her face twisting in confusion. “Wait... where’s your halo?”

Your heart stopped. For a moment, your hand flew up to your head, panicked, expecting to feel the brim of Joel’s cowboy hat still sitting there. If it was, what would you even say? But when your fingers brushed through your hair and found nothing, relief washed over you like a wave.

Joel had taken it back—thank God. He’d slipped it off your head before the two of you came back downstairs, a quiet, subtle move that now felt like a lifesaver. The thought of Sarah seeing you walk into the party with his hat still perched on your head was mortifying.

“Oh,” you said, exhaling shakily as you quickly composed yourself. “Must’ve lost it somewhere. It’s probably around here.”

Sarah tilted her head, her brow furrowed in mock seriousness as she considered something before breaking into a giggle. “Guess you’re not so angelic anymore, huh?”

You forced a smile, but her words landed heavier than she could’ve known. If only she knew. The guilt gnawed at you, sharp and undeniable. What you were doing was wrong, and there was no point in sugarcoating it. Sarah was a damn good friend, one of the best, and you had no right…

Your thoughts were cut short when Sarah’s gaze shifted, her expression brightening as Joel reappeared from the garage fridge, a couple of extra drinks in hand. Your eyes followed hers instinctively, heart doing that familiar, traitorous flutter at the sight of him.

“Hey!” Sarah called out to you, her voice a little too loud, her words slightly slurred from the margaritas she’d been nursing all night. She nudged your arm for emphasis, her grin wide as she turned back to you. “I think Dad is seeing someone!”

Your heart stopped. Completely froze in your chest as her words hung in the air.

“What? What do you mean?” you stammered, your voice uneven, betraying your attempt to sound casual.

Sarah waved a hand dramatically, leaning closer with the loose confidence of someone who’d had a few drinks too many. “I mean,” she said, dragging the words out, “I haven’t seen that man this happy in SO long. He’s like… humming in the shower.” She giggled at the absurdity of it, shaking her head in disbelief. “Like, who does that?”

You swallowed hard, your cheeks already burning. “Oh,” you managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper, trying desperately to will away the blush creeping up your face.

“And!” Sarah continued, clearly on a roll now, completely unaware of the panic clawing at you. “I’ll come downstairs at night, and he’s on the couch smiling at his phone. Like, full-on grinning. Who is this man? And who is he texting?!”

Your breath caught, and you forced yourself to laugh lightly, brushing it off even as your chest tightened. “Weird,” you murmured, hoping she couldn’t hear the breathlessness in your voice. But the way Sarah grinned at you, so blissfully unaware, only made the guilt dig deeper.

You made a mental note to text Joel the second you got a moment alone: Hide the halo. The last thing you needed was for Sarah—or anyone else—to stumble into his room and find it.

🕸️───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────🕸️

When you got home and finished showering, the warmth of the water washing away the lingering scents of the night, you slipped into bed feeling both exhausted and electric. The room was quiet, the hum of the party now a distant memory, but your mind refused to settle.

You replayed the events of the evening in vivid detail. Each time you thought of Joel, your cheeks flushed, your stomach fluttered with that warm, dizzying sensation you couldn’t shake.

It was impossible not to wonder if he felt the same—if the way he looked at you, touched you, spoke to you, was as real for him as it was for you.

You rolled over, burying your face in the pillow, willing the thoughts to quiet enough to let you sleep. But just as you began to drift, your phone buzzed softly on the nightstand. The sound startled you, and your heart pounded as you reached for it, the faint glow of the screen illuminating the dark room.

It was a text from Joel.

You unlocked it with shaky fingers, and there it was—the selfie you’d taken together. Your lips were pressed to his cheek, his smirk lazy and crooked, his eyes softened in a way that made your chest ache. Beneath the photo was a simple caption:

“Sleep well angel.”

🕸️───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────🕸️

Tag list: @bbyanarchist @spoonflix @pedritospunk @ickearmn @nrreads @76bookworm76 @pastelpinkflowerlife @shantellorraine @spooky-sculder @merm4id5lut @brittmb115 @rosebuds-and-moonlight @joelscowgirl @spacemamax @locked-ness @bensonispunk @pal3rmo @mystickittytaco @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @rh1nestonecowg1rl @littlenicpascal @jsudsgf @addictedtothisyoungman @denisanoemi @l3zx1v @justsarahbella

[basset-babe]

five times: the one point five.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: none but gossip yet again

word count: 2.9k+

a/n: please do send me a message or comment down if you would like to be added on the succeeding taglists for the five times series! here is 1.5 times with ben. enjoy! thanks loves <3! (also, pls do imagine ben holding a graft rose for this one heh)

five times series: the first. the one point five. the second. the third. the three point five. the fourth. at last. text divider from @heavenlayt and pattern banner from @cafekitsune thank you!

the one point five time.

In the hours of sunlight, callers have flooded the Y/L/N drawing room. All bringing gifts and performances in hopes to win the favourable yes of the season's paragon, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. The grand parlor, adorned with exquisite tapestries and sparkling chandeliers, buzzed with the lively hum of conversations and the tinkling laughter of society’s elite. Lavish bouquets of rare, fragrant flowers filled the room, their heady scent mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed tea and delectable pastries arrayed on silver platters.

Gentlemen, dressed in their finest attire, lined up to present their offerings to Miss Y/L/N, each one more extravagant than the last. Some brought intricate jewelry, glittering with precious stones, while others offered rare books, hoping to appeal to her reputed love of literature. Musicians performed virtuoso pieces on the grand piano, their fingers dancing over the keys in a bid to capture her attention through the power of melody. Poets recited verses composed in her honor, their words dripping with adoration and longing.

Miss Y/L/N, the epitome of grace and poise, received each suitor with a warm smile and a gracious word. Her eyes, sparkling with intelligence and kindness, moved across the room, acknowledging the efforts and intentions of each visitor. Her charm was such that even a simple nod or a softly spoken thank you felt like a cherished treasure to the eager suitors.

The hour had struck past 1 in the afternoon when, hopefully, the last caller of the day had bid his farewells. The Y/L/N drawing room, which had been a whirlwind of activity, now began to settle into a quieter, more contemplative atmosphere. The sunlight streaming through the large windows cast a bright hue over the room, highlighting the opulent furnishings and the array of gifts that had been presented to Miss Y/N Y/L/N throughout the morning.

Servants moved gracefully, clearing away the remnants of the lavish spread of refreshments while ensuring that every detail of the room remained immaculate. The air was still fragrant with the scent of roses, lilies, and other exotic flowers that had been brought by admirers, creating a heady, almost intoxicating environment.

"As much as I do love botanicals, all these flowers have turned obnoxious to my senses, Grandmama," Y/N sighed, feeling the urge to slouch on the couch. Her frame was poised elegantly despite her weariness, a testament to her upbringing and the endless etiquette lessons she had endured.

Her grandmother, the Viscountess Y/L/N, reentered the room with a look of satisfaction mixed with maternal concern. "My dear," she said softly, "you have conducted yourself admirably. The attention you have garnered is truly remarkable, but alas, this be the trials of being the season's paragon," she said with jest. "A small price to pay for such adoration and the opportunities it presents."

Y/N allowed herself a small, rueful smile. "It has been a most eventful day. I do hope I have shown the proper appreciation to each caller." She gently plucked a stray petal from her gown, its soft texture a stark contrast to her current mood.

"Rest assured, my dear, that this too shall pass," her grandmother replied soothingly. "Soon, you will look back on these days with fondness, perhaps even in laughter."

Y/N nodded, though she wasn't entirely convinced. She admired her grandmother's ability to see the positive in any situation. Lady Y/L/N had once been the toast of her own social season, and her wisdom was hard-earned through years of navigating similar waters.

"Would it be terribly improper to open a window, Grandmama?" Y/N asked, her eyes drifting towards the heavy drapes that concealed the afternoon breeze. "I believe a bit of fresh air might revive my spirits."

The Viscountess chuckled softly. "Not at all, my dear. In fact, I think it would do us both good." She motioned to a nearby maid, who quickly moved to pull back the drapes and open the window, allowing a refreshing breeze to sweep into the room. The cool air carried with it the scents of the garden outside, a welcome contrast to the overwhelming floral arrangements within.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling instantly more at ease. "Thank you, Grandmama. That is much better."

"Now, my dear," Mrs. Y/L/N said, her tone becoming more serious, "while you have a moment of peace, tell me—was there any caller today who truly caught your eye?"

Y/N considered the question carefully. There had been many suitors, each with their own merits. Some had been charming, others earnest, and a few rather boastful. But it was not that she minded all these suitors; it was who she looked forward to that truly occupied her thoughts. It had been this Bridgerton man she'd hoped would be calling on her the entire morning. Unfortunately, he had not been seen yet in this drawing room.

"Y/N, my dear, are you still with us?" Lady Y/L/N's gentle voice broke through her reverie.

"Yes, Grandmama," Y/N replied, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "I was merely thinking."

"About anyone in particular?" her grandmother inquired with a knowing smile.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then decided there was no point in hiding her thoughts from her perceptive grandmother. "To be quite honest, I was hoping to see Mr. Bridgerton today.. well as of this morn," she admitted. "I fear he may have been otherwise engaged."

"Ah, Mr. Bridgerton," Lady Y/L/N said thoughtfully. "A fine young man, from a respected family. It is no wonder you look forward to his call. Perhaps he will still make an appearance."

Y/N nodded, though she knew the likelihood was slim as the noon wore on. She took another deep breath of the fresh air now circulating through the room, trying to shake off her disappointment. The season was long, and there would be other opportunities to see him again.

"There was Sir Nicholas Deveraeux. He was quite charming," Y/N remarked.

"He comes from a good family as well, but I've heard his uncle," Her grandmother leaned in conspiratorially, "envies the crown."

Y/N laughed at the Viscountess' antics. "Grandmama, that's quite scandalous. Wherever did you hear such a thing?" Y/N laughed.

"Deborah told me," her grandmother said, motioning to her maid. Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the notion of her grandmama indulging in gossip. "But I must tell you, I keep my options open still," she stated matter-of-factly, regaining my composure.

"Even though you are clearly captivated by Mr. Bridgerton's smile," Her grandmother teased. "It is wise to keep your options open, my dear, so as not to appear too eager for any one gentleman's attentions."

"Indeed," Y/N thought to herself, "it is prudent not to seem desperate and helpless this early in the season. After all, the season is just beginning, and there will be many more opportunities for maybe much more meaningful encounters."

The older woman patted the young lady's hand reassuringly. "You are a clever girl, my Y/N. Your charm and grace will surely attract many suitors. Just remember to enjoy the process and not to place all your hopes on one gentleman, no matter how enchanting his smile may be."

Y/N nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. The season was an adventure, and she was ready to embrace it with an open heart and mind. As her grandmama said, there would be many chances to find the right match, and she intends to savor every moment.

Just as she was about to resign herself to the wait, a soft knock sounded at the drawing room door. Both Y/N and her grandmother turned their heads in surprise as the butler entered.

"Forgive the interruption, ma'am," he said with a slight bow. "But there is one more caller who has just arrived."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as the butler stepped aside, revealing none other than Mr. Bridgerton himself. He stood at the threshold, his confident demeanor softened by a warm, sincere smile.

"Good afternoon, Lady Y/L/N, Miss Y/L/N," he greeted them, bowing respectfully. "I apologize for my tardiness. I hope I am not intruding."

Lady Y/L/N's eyes twinkled with amusement as she replied, "Not at all, Mr. Bridgerton. We are delighted to see you."

Y/N felt her spirits lift instantly, her earlier fatigue forgotten. "Indeed, Mr. Bridgerton," she said, her smile reflecting the genuine pleasure she felt. "Your timing is impeccable."

Mr. Bridgerton's eyes met hers, and for a moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room. "I am glad to hear that, Miss Y/L/N," he said. "I have been looking forward to our meeting."

As he stepped further into the room, bringing with him an air of warmth and possibility, Y/N knew that this visit was just the beginning. The season held many uncertainties, but in that moment, with Mr. Bridgerton's presence brightening the drawing room, she felt a renewed sense of hope and excitement for what was to come.

He walked closer, offering his wrapped gift with a warm smile. "I know of your love of botanicals. Although, I wasn't sure what to get, but I opted for a grafted Rosa Falstaff from our estate's own gardens."

Y/N's eyes widened with surprise and delight as she reached out to accept the potted rose. "A Rosa Falstaff? From your family's gardens?" she exclaimed, her fingers gently tracing the leaves and delicate blooms.

"Yes," Benedict nodded, his gaze softening as he watched her reaction. "I thought it would be a fitting addition to your collection, considering your fondness for floriculture."

"Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton. This is truly truly thoughtful of you." Y/N's eyes lit up as she accepted the graft, appreciating the gesture.

Mr. Bridgerton smiled, a hint of relief and pleasure in his eyes. "I'm glad you like them, Miss Y/L/N. I thought something from home might be more personal and meaningful than the usual offerings."

Mrs. Y/L/N, observing the interaction with a pleased expression, decided to give the young couple some space. "If you'll excuse me, I have some correspondence to attend to," she said, rising gracefully. "Please, Mr. Bridgerton, make yourself comfortable."

As her grandmother left the room, Y/N gestured for Mr. Bridgerton to sit beside her on the elegant settee. "It's so refreshing to receive something so genuine," she said, placing the graft gently on the table beside them. "Tell me more about your estate's gardens. They must be quite beautiful."

Mr. Bridgerton settled into the seat, his expression brightening as he began to speak. "Our gardens are indeed a sight to behold, especially in the spring. We have a variety of flowers, from different roses to lavender, and even some more exotic species like that which my mother is particularly fond of. Each section of the garden has its own unique charm and character."

Y/N listened intently, her interest piqued not just by the subject but by the way he spoke with such genuine affection for his home. "It sounds enchanting," she said. "I would love to see it someday."

He smiled, clearly pleased by her response. "I would be honored to show you around Aubrey Hall, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps you could offer some advice on expanding our collection of botanicals."

"I would be delighted," Y/N replied, her smile matching his. "There are always new species to discover and cultivate. It would be a pleasure to share that with someone who appreciates it as much as I do."

As they continued to talk, the conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on various topics of mutual interest. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them engrossed in their exchange. The connection they felt was palpable, a promising hint of what could be a deep and meaningful relationship.

The noon sun cast a golden glow through the open window, bathing them in warm light. It was as if the world outside had conspired to create the perfect moment, one that Y/N would cherish as the beginning of something truly special.

"Why not a change of scenery, Miss Y/N? May I enchant you to a walk with me this afternoon?" Mr. Bridgerton asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Y/N felt a flutter of excitement at his proposal, though very different from norm indeed. The thought of a leisurely walk, away from the confines of the drawing room and amidst the fresh air and beauty of the outdoors, was undeniably appealing. She glanced at her grandmother, who had discreetly lingered near the doorway.

Mrs. Y/L/N, catching her granddaughter's hopeful expression, gave a subtle nod of approval. "I think that sounds like a splendid idea, Mr. Bridgerton," she said. "A bit of fresh air through my garden will do you both good."

"Thank you, Grandmama," Y/N replied, her smile widening. She turned back to Mr. Bridgerton, her eyes meeting his with a mix of excitement and gratitude. "I would be delighted to join you for a walk."

Mr. Bridgerton offered his arm, which Y/N took with a graceful nod. Together, they made their way out of the drawing room and through the grand halls of the Y/L/N residence. The household staff, now accustomed to the comings and goings of numerous callers, discreetly stepped aside, offering polite smiles as the pair passed.

As they stepped out into the sunlight, the warmth of the afternoon embraced them. The gardens of the Y/L/N estate stretched out before them, a riot of color and fragrance that promised a delightful stroll. Birds chirped melodiously, adding a charming soundtrack to their walk.

"Your gardens are truly beautiful, Miss Y/L/N," Mr. Bridgerton remarked as they began their promenade. "It's easy to see where your love for botanicals comes from."

"Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton," Y/N replied, her gaze sweeping over the well-tended flower beds and neatly trimmed hedges. "I find great joy in spending time here. There's something so peaceful about being surrounded by nature."

They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, taking in the beauty around them. Y/N's lady's maid chaperoning behind. The gravel path crunched softly underfoot, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead.

"I must admit," Mr. Bridgerton said, breaking the silence, "I was quite nervous about coming here today. I wasn't sure if my gift would be well-received."

Y/N looked up at him, surprised. "You needn't have worried," she assured him. "Your gift was one of the most endearing ones I have received. It speaks volumes about your character and your genuine interest. Quite a change in the morn's most fragrant bouquets. All exquisite but a tad bit too much on my senses." I gestured towards my nose.

He smiled, clearly relieved. "I'm glad to hear that, Miss Y/L/N. I hoped to make a meaningful impression."

"You certainly have," she replied warmly. "And now, here we are, enjoying a lovely walk together. It seems your efforts have been rewarded."

As they continued their walk, their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on topics both serious and lighthearted. They shared stories, laughed together, and discovered common interests. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing moment, the bond of friendship and potential courtship becoming more tangible.

"So, do tell me more about you, Mr. Bridgerton."

"Do call me Benedict, if you please. Provided, of course, that you feel comfortable and we are beyond the earshot of your lady's maid." his eyebrows raise in suggestive jest.

Y/N chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "Very well, Benedict. You may address me by Y/N as well."

Benedict smiled, clearly pleased by her informal, now more familiar, address. "My days are usually spent at home, but sometimes, I spend my time in my art studio at the academy."

"Yes, you've mentioned of yourself an artist, I remember." Y/N remarked, intrigued. "That is fascinating. What sort of art do you create?"

Benedict's face lit up with enthusiasm as he began to describe his passion. "I work primarily with oils on canvas, though I do enjoy sketching as well. There's something incredibly satisfying about capturing a moment or a feeling in a piece of art. It’s a way to express myself that words sometimes fail to achieve."

Y/N listened intently, her admiration growing. "I would love to see your work someday. It must be wonderful to have such a creative outlet."

"It is," Benedict agreed, a note of pride in his voice. "And I would be honored to show you my studio and some of my pieces. Perhaps I could even paint your portrait, if you would allow me."

Y/N blushed at the thought, a mixture of shyness and excitement. "I would be delighted, Benedict. Though I must warn you, I may not be the most patient of sitters."

Benedict laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’m sure we would manage just fine. And who knows, you might find the experience enjoyable."

"I look forward to it," Y/N said, her smile reflecting her genuine interest. "But tell me more about your family. I have heard much about the Bridgertons, but I would love to hear it from your perspective."

Benedict's expression softened as he spoke of his family. "We are a large, close-knit group. There are eight of us siblings, and we were all raised with a strong sense of duty and love seeing my late father and mother attend to our household. My mother, Violet, is the heart of our family. She has always encouraged us to pursue our passions and support each other."

"That sounds wonderful," Y/N said, touched by his words. "Family is so important. I imagine it must be lively with so many siblings."

"It certainly is," Benedict replied with a grin. "There is never a dull moment at Bridgerton House. We have our share of disagreements, of course, but we always come together in the end. All the laughter and camaraderie make it worthwhile."

Y/N felt a warm connection forming between them, their shared values and interests creating a bond that felt both natural and exciting. "I would love to meet them all someday, even so now that your brother has found himself a wife. Such exciting things!" she said.

"And they would be delighted to meet you," Benedict assured her. "I can already tell that you would fit right in."

"He thinks of me as someone who would fit with his family? I could feel my heart flutter," Y/N thought, the realization sending a warm, thrilling sensation through her.

As they continued their conversation, the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the garden. The hours had slipped away unnoticed, a testament to the ease and enjoyment they found in each other's company.

Eventually the day had struck shy of 3 at afternoon and they made their way back to the main house, the promise of future meetings and shared experiences hanging in the air. As they reached the steps, Benedict turned to Y/N, his expression earnest and hopeful.

"Thank you for a wonderful afternoon, Y/N," he said. "I look forward to our next meeting."

"As do I, Benedict," Y/N replied, her heart full of anticipation. "Until then."

With a final, warm smile, Benedict took his leave, leaving Y/N with a sense of happiness and a fluttering hope for the future. The day had been more than she could have imagined, and she felt a deep sense of gratitude for the connection they had begun to forge.

taglist: @novausstuff @pussyslayerhd @amoosarte

[escapisttt]

make up sex

porter runs. he always runs, but he never comes back. what will happen now that he finally has?

cw: nsfw! smut with plot read the title lol, mentions of a previous argument, some hostile dialogue

authors note: was interesting writing gender neutral smut for the first time but it’s literally not hard so anyone who tells you it is is either selfish, lazy, or uncreative.

word count: 3.6k (also the exact length of my only other redacted fic okay)

steam billowed all around the bathroom, penetrating every surface with moisture and sticking to the large rectangular mirror. treasure began undressing themself with lumbering movements, constantly tipping over left and right. after trying to take their slippers off while standing up, they again became unsteady and caught themself on the sink basin. they chuffed. when was the last time they drank like this? every time they went to a bar, they had their friends to look after. nothing’s quite as lame as being the designated driver, they thought. to them, that was another indication of their plainness; they weren’t fun enough to party with. instead, they were left to scroll on their phone while sitting on a barstool, catching themself gazing wistfully up at the chalkboard drink menu. but tonight they had indulged. not at a bar, but alone on their armchair, sipping wine and watching their ceiling go in and out of focus. they knew they’d had enough when they watched the ceiling slowly bend, rise, and fall as if there were a pair of lungs under the plaster.

once they were fully bare, they carefully stepped under the scalding water. they flinched and then froze, willing themself to not back away. they weren’t the one to run. they wouldn’t run.

they closed their eyes and let the burning water hit their front. they could already feel their chest turning a darker, uglier color. but they wouldn’t step back. they wouldn’t turn the temperature down. it felt good, the heat. images of him flashed through their mind, causing their brow to furrow in helpless frustration. his hands, his fingertips, his breath, it was all so hot. they had never felt so much heat before him. now though, they had been left cold for days. just like the outings with their ‘friends.’ after he slammed the door and ran, they were back on a lonely barstool. cold. freezing. they’d never felt so much ice before him, either.

a figure hovered in front of the bathroom door. the smell of hair conditioner wafted to the creature’s senses, his red irises eclipsed by black need. the smell called to him, screamed his name. but he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. the instinct, the guilt, the aroma—what was the matter with him? he’d fed on some poor soul minutes ago and still couldn’t focus? he wrapped his hand around the doorknob and squeezed. they weren’t singing like they usually do. was that his fault? he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the door, focusing harder. a foul, shocking odor struck him. alcohol in their blood? was that his fault?

treasure heard the door creak open and yelped. before they could peek around the curtain…. “it’s me, darling. are you drunk?” they stayed silent and felt their fear morph into a melancholic frustration. any other well adjusted member of society would be full of terror and adrenaline if someone suddenly appeared in their home, but porter ripped away that sense of normalcy long ago. the mere sound of his voice caused an irritation, never mind him calling them ‘darling’ again. they rolled their eyes.

“what on earth are you doing here?! i thought you’d at least have the sense to throw away the key,” they spat coldly. porter’s shoulders shrank a little and he looked down at the tile. usually he would remark that he didn’t need a key anyway, but that attitude was exactly what had earned him this mess. his voice was low and small.

“you want rid of me that much?”

the rushing water dampened his sound a bit, but treasure could easily tell he was being wary and... something else. they pulled the curtain back just enough to reveal their head and took in the sight of him. a black blazer with a scarf, as usual, except his slacks were wrinkled. and his hair wasn’t even gelled. odd. they leaned against the shower wall as to not lose their footing and played off their disorientation by scoffing at him, ignoring his question. “did your king take away your wares too? you look shitty.” porter didn’t laugh, and he certainly didn’t miss the indignation behind the word ‘king.’ he approached and loomed over them, masking his annoyance.

“please, enough about him. you’re drunk.”

they scoffed again and went back to their shower routine, rinsing the rest of their hair. they didn’t close the curtain though. porter took the subtle invitation and leaned against the drywall, watching them through the gap in the curtain. he widened it a bit with his hand and started again. “i can fix that for you. give me your hand and you’ll be sober.” porter never knew them as one to indulge so heavily. he didn’t want to push as to why they had drank because he had a feeling it would only make them blow up at him, but he couldn’t deny there was a part of him that wanted to prod. the way they prodded him. but not this time.

treasure mulled over his words and extended their hand without looking back at him. they of all people knew how senseless drunk conversations can be. porter gently took their hand and tried not to linger on how whole it made him feel. using magic, he traced the excess amounts of alcohol in their bloodstream and dissipated it. he stood watchfully, trying not to overstep but wanting desperately to keep hold of them during the jarring sobering. they wobbled on their feet with their eyes closed for a moment before opening and snapping their gaze back at him. there was the alertness they were lacking. “clearer?” he asked, to which they gave him a curt nod.

now that they were in their right mind, they scanned over his form once more: he wasn't a drunken illusion. an awkward silence fell over the pair. treasure's eyes flitted back and forth between porter and the shower wall. when porter didn't take the hint, they eventually spoke up. “get in if you want. you just look stupid standing there,” they mumbled, yanking the curtain shut.

porter’s clothes instantly phased away as he yielded to the insult and stepped into the enclosed space. he stayed opposite of treasure and kept his back pressed against the wet tile, his arms wrapped around his middle. treasure threw him a look over their shoulder, snickering dryly. “you only have good manners after we fight?” the vampire let out an amused huff from his nostrils and hung his head.

“it seems it always takes something drastic to make me learn, yes.”

treasure turned around fully and reached for their body scrub, looking up at him as they bent down. their gaze was steely but their lips were tempting. “well i haven’t heard a ‘sorry,’ so do i have to beat one out of you?” they joked humorlessly.

those words caused the flame of guilt to lick at porter’s skin once more. ‘beat one out of him’—were they being sarcastic at their own expense? the inhuman strength in every muscle fiber in his body told him yes. god, he used that against them in their argument. he talked down to them, using ‘human’ as an insult, shoving in their face how much power he held over them. he didn’t start the fight, but he didn’t have to finish it like that. he’d never harm them, but he gave them such a strong implication that he could and made them feel bad about it. he called them stupid for even being with him, made himself out to be a monster they needed to run from. but they both knew porter was the one who was running. even so, in all of porter’s long existence, treasure was the first thing he’d ever ran back to. he could lose everything, but not them.

porter took a small step forward with his head still hanging and motioned for the container of body scrub. treasure gave him a puzzled look. the vampire sighed and took another step, gently taking the container from their hand and setting it down. “treasure, i….” he considered their choice of words again. he finally raised his head and looked into their eyes. “you can—you can do anything you want to me. i’m very sorry for what i said, but… whatever satisfies you. whatever gives you power.”

the vampire in front of treasure was not one they easily recognized. his eyes were nearly-black orbs and shone with desperate longing. porter solaire was a slighting creature, who was this? it was porter, just porter. treasure gave him a slow nod. “make it up to me.”

the vampire’s eyes lit up and he swiftly made his move. his lips attached to treasure’s neck, fangs firmly retracted. this wasn’t about him, nothing tonight was about him. his hands slid up the wet slopes of their hips and waist. a trapped moan escaped him when he felt them like that. he was touching god and it was burning, but he loved it. his kisses trailed across their neck and up their chin, aiming for their perfect lips. but when he tried to reach them, a resounding smack echoed in their steamy enclosure. porter blinked and his head was whipped around to the right, a red hot sting on his cheek. treasure’s hand returned to grip his jaw and pointed his head forward at them.

“i didn’t give you permission to kiss me. you think you deserve my lips?” porter could’ve cum right there. he shook his head.

“no, no i don’t. can i earn it?” his voice was like nothing they had heard before.

“you can. do what i said and make it up to me. you know what i like.”

porter nodded once more before sinking to his knees, his hands slipping down their body reverently. he groaned at the smell of their arousal, his eyes rolling back and then locking back onto theirs. he briefly recalled the night they first met. if only he had known how mad he would go for the taste of what was in front of him.

the vampire pressed light kisses around their groin with his eyes remaining trained on theirs. just how they like it. “i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry,” he repeated in between kisses. treasure's hand came down to muss up his hair and his erection twitched. they nodded at him with a pleased grin and gave him a tug as a reward. his precum dribbled onto the grout.

shortly, porter's efforts made it so treasure leaked more of their own arousal; that was porter’s cue. he licked a long stripe upward, collecting their slick on his flattened tongue and letting out a whine at their salty taste. he quickly dove in for more, moaning louder than treasure. his hands were planted firmly in his lap, not touching himself or the beauty before him; he knew he wasn’t deserving of doing either. treasure smiled and leaned their head back, their hips bucking in a smooth rhythm against his mouth. porter could cry at their movement—the gorgeous fluidity and the signal that he was giving it to them right.

nothing ever felt as right as when he was giving them pleasure. he couldn’t count how many nights he would spend god knows where, making god knows who disappear; it wasn’t in his nature to bring anything but pain. he was a sinner through and through, but that first night with treasure at skyside, he thinks, he began repenting. he found religion in every breath they took, every twitch of ecstasy he fed them. he felt holy at their feet.

“porter, i’m so close,” they gasped, causing the vampire’s dead heart to pound. he nodded emphatically, shaking his head side to side just to give them that extra stimulation. his desperate moans also sent vibrations to their sensitive flesh, setting their nerves alight. their grip on his hair was lethal and porter’s arousal was reaching a tipping point. he no longer had control over himself; treasure was pushing and pulling and holding his face flush against them until any normal human would’ve suffocated. porter’s mind was going hazy as if he was, his true feelings emerging from thoughtless bliss.

“i could die,” he panted as he gazed up at them, “let me die like this.” they climaxed only a second later.

ambrosia seeped onto porter’s tongue and he drank piously, catching every drop. treasure’s wanton whimpers and breaths filled the vampire’s ears and he couldn’t have been happier. he knew this is where he belonged, and he wouldn’t ever forgive himself for nearly forsaking it.

treasure finally let go of porter’s hair and he whined at the loss. they chuckled breathlessly and patted their chest, signaling that they wanted to be eye to eye. the vampire quickly stood, hissing quietly when his painful erection brushed up against their stomach. he swallowed at the closeup view of their blissed-out face; their eyes were in a lazy, seductive droop, but their grin was what ensnared him. he hadn’t seen one in days and now he’d earned one back, no matter the sadistic undertones behind it. they reached a hand out and cupped his cheek, smiling wider when his eyelids fluttered at the touch. porter didn’t notice their hand sneaking down to grip his base and his eyes shot open once he felt it.

“i’m assuming you want this taken care of?” they teased, tapping his cock against their stomach. he groaned pathetically, putting his hands on the wall behind them. he gripped at nothing, fingers clenching and unclenching around nothing and trying not to crack the tile. hovering over treasure was a beast of incomprehensible strength, holding himself back for one reason: forgiveness.

“treasure… i’m begging you.”

their wolfish grin slowly faded as they leaned in closer, squeezing his cock harshly. “and you’ll keep begging until i forgive you.” with that, they released him and shut off the water, promptly snatching their towel and stepping onto the floor mat without him. they left the bathroom before he could even process what they said.

the vampire blinked and hurried after them, bare and dripping wet. treasure was already laying on their back in bed, equally naked and damp. their towel was beneath them and they gazed at him expectantly. porter’s eyes widened as he realized what they wanted. he could hardly believe it. with vampiric speed, he was on his knees over them in a split second. their legs were spread and knees bent up, the sight making him look away and curse. god, he couldn’t take it. but treasure wasn’t having that. a smack to the thigh and his eyes were snapped open.

“you’ll look at me when you fuck me, or i’ll make you stop. don’t even fucking blink,” they threatened lowly. porter moaned but nodded, leaning down to be closer to them. without breaking eye contact, he spat on his fingers and rubbed it on their entrance, hoping to please them again. they sighed airily and reached down for his cock, unexpectedly prodding themself with it. porter gasped and almost lost his balance, catching himself on the pillow next to their head. they snickered and rolled their eyes, easing his length inside of them. it was still faster than porter ever started off, and he showed his unpreparedness by cursing and gripping their sheets. they swiftly got him fully seated and let them both settle into it, their gummy walls hugging porter’s cock snugly. he looked as if he was containing a scream.

“t-treasure you—gods, you could’ve hurt yourself doing that,” he heaved, his chest rising and falling as he tried not to cum. in response, they dug their nails into the small of his back and raked down to his ass, watching his head roll back and his mouth gape. always a sucker for pain, scratches were his favorite kryptonite. treasure had an unreadable look and gave the command he had been yearning for.

“i’m fine, just fuck me. don’t you dare go slow.”

porter was mildly concerned by their order, but he had to give them what they wanted. he would rather die than not. his hips pulled back until just his tip was inside before coming back down, thrusting smoothly into them. the sinful sound of his hips smacking into the back of their thighs drove them both wild. treasure’s nails only sank deeper into his skin, causing porter’s own wobbly grin to emerge. he fucked them faster, egged on by the delicious sting. he lowered himself more so their bodies were flush. their nipples rubbed against his chest and he panted in their ear, “like this, my love? tell me, please tell me i’m giving you what you want. fuck….”

in their own rapture, they nodded and turned their head to smile back at him. their words were mere breathy puffs of air. “uh-huh… yes, god yes. don’t stop ‘til i cum.” as if porter would’ve done otherwise.

treasure was making such a mess of themself it was audible. the vampire looked down and saw the telltale shiny slick, whining in their ear at the sight. they were so turned on for him. he put his weight on his left forearm which rested above their head and used his free hand to snake down their stomach, reaching their leaking essence. he put the pad of his thumb on their most sensitive spot and stroked up and down, up and down, earning strangled, surprised moans. his eyes bore into theirs as he continued his ministrations while fucking them, his expression one of a dog that just performed a trick for its owner: hopeful, eager, and aching for approval. “fuck, that’s how you like it…. i’ll make you cum, i’ll make you cum so fucking hard, treasure.”

the vampire was reaching speeds only his kind are able to, making treasure’s thighs ripple in ways they hadn’t felt before. porter never had a reason to fuck them this good before, and now that he was, they didn’t think they could ever go back. their body was bouncing as they lay down, mouth agape with licentious sounds pouring out. they hated that their hostility had crumbled under his hips, but they knew they’d have hated themself more if they pushed him away. right then, they just wanted to cum on his cock.

the bed frame squeaked and slid against the floor, banging against the wall. porter’s tempo was perfect, so fucking good against that sweet spongy spot inside them, his tip kissing it over and over. he didn’t know how he was holding it together. “i’m getting close, treasure. fuck, you have to cum, you have to,” he choked out in a frenzy. his thumb rubbed and stroked them faster, his hips losing rhythm but gaining speed. somehow through their pleasure-blinded haze, treasure looked porter in the eyes and raked their nails once more down his back. fuck, he wished he could scar.

“mm, beg me. beg for my cum,” they demanded with a groan. porter felt himself instantly melt under their authority and he whined in frustration, his knees almost buckling at their words. he fucked them faster and complied.

“fuck, please treasure! i need your cum, i fucking need it! i can’t—i can’t cum before you, i don’t deserve it. you have to cum for me, m-my love. i’ll never fucking raise my voice at you again, never. gods, oh my gods, please please please cum!”

he looked in their eyes the whole time, beggarly and despairing. treasure couldn’t help but succumb to all of the pleasure he was throwing at them. a few deep, swift thrusts later and they were creaming all over him. they went stiff and their mouth dropped open in a silent scream. porter felt their hole clench and pulse around him, effortlessly sending him down the same path. his cum pumped inside of them in thick ropes of ivory. he buried his head in their neck and let out a continuous string of groans and whimpers, hips shallowly bucking with each spurt of cum. his thumb never stopped stroking even as treasure reached the end of their climax. they enjoyed that slight bit of overstimulation, so they didn’t stop him. it was endearing how focused he was on making them feel good even in the throes of his own ecstasy.

porter eventually finished and collapsed beside them, eyes shut and breaths heavy. treasure remained on their back and stared up at the ceiling just as they were before he arrived. though, they were now drunk on him instead of wine. his cum steadily oozed out of them and they briefly thanked themself for having the foresight to put the towel underneath them.

“you’re cleaning this up,” they mumbled, breaking the silence. porter had practically rendered their shower useless, after all. the vampire cracked an eye open and wore a neutral expression.

“of course i am, my sweet, but in a moment. i missed this,” he replied evenly. treasure simply nodded and went back to staring upward. their gaze shifted to the ceiling fan and focused on a single fan blade, following it through each slow revolution. they felt a hand cautiously slide across their stomach, ending up cupping their side. porter scooted closer to them and held them like that, almost balling himself up in the fetal position beside them. they didn’t look over at him. they were afraid if they did, they would break. a part of them was still upset at him and knew they would confront him again, but the larger part told them that now was not the time. if they looked over at him now, they knew they would forget why they were even mad at him in the first place. for now, in this moment, they would let sleeping dogs lie and bask in the arms of a creature who would do anything for them, knowingly or not.

@vind3miat0r :)))

[fr0stf4ll]

A court of Shadows and Moonlight - Part 2

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the wake of looming war and changing traditions, a gifted healer returns to the Night Court after centuries of wandering the continents. Tasked with stepping into Madja’s legendary role, she must guide reluctant healers, soothe wounded warriors, and face the entrenched prejudice of Illyrian leaders. But as she mends torn wings and broken spirits, an unexpected bond awakens between her and the Night Court’s enigmatic Spymaster. With rivalries simmering and a dangerous threat looming on the horizon, she must reconcile duty and desire, learning that true healing can extend beyond flesh and bone—if she dares to embrace the light hidden among the shadows.

word count ; 4k

notes; hello hello, thank you so much for all of your comments on the last part. I'm so happy that you guys want to read more of the new fan fiction. Here is the part 2, please don't hesitate to comment or to ask to be on the tag list. Bisous bisous

link for part 1 or part 3

---

Early morning light painted Velaris in gentle pastels, the snowy streets glowing beneath a sky that hinted at a clear day ahead. The hostel’s front step creaked softly as you left, having already arranged to keep your horse and belongings there for a few more nights. With your cloak drawn tight against the crisp winter air, you stepped onto the cobblestone path, the familiar scent of the Sidra mingling with the freshness of newly fallen snow.

You knew the way well enough, even after centuries away: to reach Madja’s quarters, you had to skirt the edge of a quiet residential district, pass through a small courtyard where a fountain tinkled with ice-rimmed water, and turn down a short lane lined with lanterns and blossoming plants enchanted to survive the cold. Before heading straight there, though, you caught a whiff of something enticing—fresh pastries, warm bread, the sugary hint of glazed treats.

Following your nose, you discovered a small bakery tucked between a tailor’s shop and a candle-maker’s stall. Its sign hung overhead, carved wood depicting a loaf of bread and a swirl of steam. The door, painted a soft teal, stood slightly ajar, letting out the heavenly aroma. Inside, rows of sweet rolls, tarts, and delicate pastries awaited. You remembered how Madja always had a fondness for morning pastries—she used to claim that a little sweetness helped start the day on a kinder note.

Stepping inside, you selected a variety of treats: sugar-dusted pastries, flaky croissants, and small fruit-filled buns that gleamed with syrup. Alongside them, you chose a crusty loaf and a few savory rolls for balance. Wrapping them carefully in parchment, the bakery’s clerk smiled warmly, admiring your thoughtfulness. You paid without hesitation, a slight grin touching your lips at the idea of surprising Madja with these morsels of delight.

With your package of pastries cradled in one arm, you pushed open the door and stepped back onto the street. Distracted by the lingering taste of sweetness in the air and the memory of Madja’s grateful smile, you didn’t notice the tall figure coming around the corner until it was too late.

Your shoulder collided with something solid—very solid—and you stumbled a step, clutching the pastries protectively to keep them from spilling. Looking up, you saw a broad chest encased in fighting leathers and, as your gaze traveled upward, a pair of strong, dark wings folded neatly behind his back. His face was turned toward you now, brows lifted in mild surprise. He was tall, toweringly so, with an air of alert strength that suggested he rarely found himself caught off-guard.

“Pardon me,” you said quickly, voice low and genuinely apologetic. You stepped aside, adjusting your hold on the parchment bundle. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene or lose these treasured pastries to the snowy ground.

For a heartbeat, you noted the faint surprise in his eyes—he’d expected perhaps a greeting or a challenge—but you had no time for curiosities now. You had a meeting to attend and pastries to deliver. Without waiting for his reply, you nodded, a brief dip of the head, and continued on your way.

The sounds of the city moved around you: distant laughter, the whisper of wings overhead, and the muffled crunch of your boots in the snow. You cast one last curious glance over your shoulder, the winged male already merging into the morning bustle of Velaris. Then you pressed forward, heart light with anticipation. Soon, you would be face-to-face with Madja again, and this time, you came bearing both sweets and your renewed commitment to the healing art she had first taught you.

You had barely raised your knuckles to knock on the old wooden door of Madja’s office when it swung open with a gentle creak. Standing just inside was your old mentor, her silvered hair braided neatly, the familiar warmth in her eyes gleaming even brighter than you remembered. Before you could utter a word, she stepped forward and wrapped you in a gentle, enveloping hug.

The scent of herbal poultices and clean linens—scents forever associated with her—filled your senses as you leaned into the embrace. For a moment, all the centuries and miles you’d traveled fell away, leaving only the memory of countless afternoons spent under her watchful guidance, the hush of the healing rooms, and the soft murmur of her patient instructions.

“My dear child,” Madja said, her voice trembling slightly with joy, “it feels like a lifetime since I last saw you.” She held you at arm’s length, scanning you from head to toe. “Look at you, so grown, so poised. It’s hard to believe you were once that quiet apprentice peeking around doorways, curious about every tincture and suture.”

You smiled, a surge of tenderness filling your chest. “It’s been too long, Madja. I’ve been… everywhere, I think.” You lifted the carefully bundled pastries and bread you’d carried all this way. “I know how fond you are of sweet treats in the morning, so I made a stop on my way here.”

Madja’s eyes lit up at the mention of food, the lines at their corners deepening with delight. “You remembered my weakness!” she teased, ushering you inside and closing the door with a gentle push. Her office had changed little: jars and vials lined shelves, each meticulously labeled; scrolls of medical diagrams were rolled and tied with ribbons; a comfortable armchair waited near a small, round table. A thickly woven rug covered the floor, and a window let in gentle winter daylight, illuminating dust motes that drifted lazily through the air.

As you set the pastries on the table, Madja peered at them with undisguised pleasure. “Oh, look at these,” she breathed, selecting a delicate fruit-filled bun to inspect before taking a small bite. The way her face brightened was like sunshine on fresh snow—pure and sincere. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this. Not just the pastries,” she added quickly, laughing, “but you, my dear. Knowing you would return gave me such comfort these last months as I considered my retirement.”

Her words stirred something soft inside you, a gentle ache of gratitude and affection. “You knew I’d come back,” you said quietly, resting your hand on her arm. “I never forgot your lessons. Everywhere I went—Summer Court, Dawn Court, even across the sea—I carried your voice in my memory. It guided my hands, reminded me of compassion and patience in the face of suffering.”

Madja smiled, the emotion shining in her gaze. “Oh, child. That means more to me than all these treats combined. And trust me,” she said, biting into a sugar-dusted pastry, “that’s saying something.”

You both laughed softly, the sound rising and falling in the small, familiar space. Outside, the city hummed with life, and the snow continued to lend a quiet hush to the streets. But here, in this moment, you and Madja were safe in the past made present—teacher and student reunited, ready to pass the torch and write the next chapter of healing in the Night Court.

“Come,” Madja said, beckoning you to sit. “Eat with me, and tell me of your travels. Then we’ll speak of what must be done next. We have so much to catch up on, my dear. So very much.”

Time slipped by like melting snow beneath a warming sun. One conversation bled into another, memories overlapping with new tales as you and Madja shared a quiet feast of words and understanding. Seated by her small, round table, you sampled the pastries you’d brought and she sipped a mild herbal tea, letting it cool on her tongue as she listened with rapt attention.

You spoke of the Summer Court’s lush jungles and how their healers used exotic flowers to treat fevers. You described the Dawn Court’s libraries, where you learned surgical techniques from scrolls older than the High Lords themselves. You detailed the human realms and distant continents, where you discovered remedies made from plants that grew only under strange red suns. And, with a hint of satisfaction, you recounted the new healing methods you developed—mixing herbs in precise measures, using controlled spells to mend bone and flesh faster, more cleanly than ever before. Every word you offered up was met with pride in Madja’s eyes, as if the knowledge you’d gathered were the rarest jewels.

She questioned you about your power, the subtle magic that allowed you to sense illness and pain with startling accuracy. You admitted it had grown stronger with practice: now you could slow a hemorrhage with a whisper or soothe a maddened mind with careful, empathic focus. Through it all, Madja smiled quietly, nodding now and then, her delight and approval like gentle applause in the hush of her office.

Eventually, though, the mood shifted, and the laughter died down into a more somber tone. With a careful breath, you ventured into more painful territory. “I heard about the last war with Hybern,” you said softly, your gaze drifting to the distant window where a smudge of pale sky marked the passing of morning into afternoon. “I should have come back sooner, but I was too far—lost in the deep continent. By the time I got the news, it was already over. I… I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

Madja’s expression grew gentle, understanding etched into every line. “It was a hard time for all of us, child. Many who lived through it bear scars not only of the flesh, but of the heart and soul. The war was brutal, and there were moments when all seemed lost. But we survived—at great cost, yes, but survived nonetheless.” She reached over, placing her hand over yours. “You cannot blame yourself. The world is vast, and news travels slowly. You followed your path and gained what we now need.”

You met her eyes, searching them for certainty. “And now you say… a greater danger looms?”

Her shoulders rose in a slight shrug, but her eyes hardened with quiet resolve. “Yes. Rumors stir—more than rumors, in fact. Whispers of powerful forces converging, alliances hidden in shadow. The next conflict may surpass anything we have ever witnessed. The time will come when Prythian, and perhaps the world, will need every skilled hand, every healer who can do more than close wounds. They will need a leader who can guide healers and armies alike, someone who understands not just medicine, but people. Someone who’s traveled far and wide, who knows how to adapt and improvise.”

Your heart squeezed gently in your chest, understanding dawning like the slow rising of a sun behind storm clouds. “That’s why you’re retiring,” you said, voice hushed. “Because you can’t help as you wish anymore, and you believe I can.”

Madja nodded, eyes shining with conviction. “I’ve given my centuries to this court, to its people. But my hands grow stiff, and my eyesight dims. I know my limits, my dear. And I know your capabilities—greater, more flexible, better suited for what is coming. I trust you to take up my mantle and lead in ways I no longer can.”

A hush settled between you, broken only by the distant murmurs of Velaris and the faint crackle of a log shifting in the hearth. You saw in Madja’s face not only the mentor who guided your shaky first steps, but a visionary who understood when to pass on her legacy.

You bowed your head, acknowledging the weight of this new responsibility. “I will do my best,” you said softly, resolve steadied by her faith.

Madja’s smile returned, quieter but no less sincere. “I know you will, my child. It’s time for the student to stand at the helm. And this city, this court, will need you more than ever before.”

——

Azriel’s POV

“It’s really happening,” Cassian said, disbelief coloring his tone. “Madja’s actually retiring.”

Azriel stood near the window, wings folded neatly behind him, his dark gaze drifting between the three others in the room: Rhysand, Feyre, and Cassian. They had gathered in a private meeting chamber with a broad table at its center. Beyond the glass, Velaris shimmered under the soft winter light, a gentle hush settling over the streets below.

Feyre leaned against a chair, her voice quiet and steady. “We knew this day would come. She’s served this court for centuries—long before any of us held these positions.” There was a reverence in her tone, as if recognizing that an era was ending.

Rhysand, standing beside her, tapped a folded piece of parchment against his palm. “Madja sent a message this morning,” he said, his voice level. “She wanted us to know that her replacement has arrived in Velaris.”

Cassian crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Already here?” he repeated, frowning slightly. He didn’t sound angry, just unsettled by the rapidity of this change. It wasn’t that any of them doubted Madja’s judgment; rather, it was strange to think of someone else stepping into her role so swiftly.

Feyre shifted her weight, curiosity and concern mingling in her eyes. “Do we have a name? Any details?” She glanced first at Rhysand, then at Azriel, as if seeking confirmation that all would be well.

Rhysand’s violet gaze dipped to the parchment. He unfolded it and scanned the lines. “Her name is Y/N,” he said. “She left centuries ago to travel the courts and even beyond Prythian’s borders, expanding her healing knowledge. Madja describes her as someone she raised after the first war with Hybern—an orphan of that conflict. She took the girl under her wing, trained her, and now says she’s more skilled than ever.”

Azriel remained silent, his shadows stirring subtly at his shoulders. If Madja trusted this Y/N to succeed her, to guide the healers of the Night Court, then that spoke volumes. He could sense the unease mingled with acceptance in the room. Changes like this did not come often, but when they did, they tended to carry immense significance.

Cassian exhaled, one hand lifting to rub at his neck. “If Madja believes in her, we should give her a chance. Still, it’s hard to imagine anyone filling Madja’s shoes.”

Azriel caught Rhysand’s faint smile, a subtle tilt of the High Lord’s lips. “We’ll arrange a meeting today,” Rhysand said, setting the note aside. “We need her expertise, especially if the rumors we’ve been hearing prove true. If a greater conflict is brewing, we’ll require a healer who can lead effectively and adapt quickly. Madja wouldn’t hand us just anyone.”

Feyre nodded, the tension in her posture easing slightly. “Then we should welcome her properly,” she said softly. Azriel noted the determination in her eyes—Feyre had always been good at making newcomers feel at ease.

Cassian grunted in agreement, leaning back as if resigned. “Fine. Let’s meet her.” He didn’t sound hostile, simply accepting that times were changing again, as they so often did.

Azriel finally moved from his spot near the window, stepping closer to the table. Outside, the snow-dusted city remained unaware of their deliberations. This Y/N must be formidable, if Madja thought her worthy of such a mantle. He exchanged a glance with Rhysand, who gave a faint nod, understanding passing silently between them.

They would meet her soon, and then they would know if Madja’s faith was well-placed. Azriel let the thought settle in his mind like a quiet promise: a new ally, a new guardian of life and health amidst all the uncertainties of a changing world.

Later that afternoon, standing in one of the House of Wind’s halls, Azriel and the others awaited the arrival of Madja and her chosen successor. The space was quiet, warmed by braziers that chased away the winter chill lingering outside. Feyre stood to Rhysand’s right, her posture poised and welcoming. Cassian hovered nearby, arms crossed but relaxed, appearing more curious than wary now. Azriel took his place slightly behind Rhysand, shadows flickering softly around his shoulders, keen eyes focused on the grand doors.

He heard them before he saw them—the soft padding of footsteps, the gentle murmur of Madja’s voice as she guided her protégé. Azriel noted a subtle change in his companions: Rhysand and Feyre straightened a fraction, their gazes sharpening, while Cassian let out a quiet breath. The old healer’s arrival was expected, but who accompanied her was still an unknown that drew all their attention.

The door opened smoothly, revealing Madja first. She moved at a calm pace, the lines of age and wisdom etched into her face. At her side was a taller figure Azriel instantly recognized. He stiffened, remembering the morning’s brief collision. He’d caught only a glimpse of her then—enough to register her beauty, but not the details. Now, with the bright lamplight and open space, he could take in every nuance.

Y/N was indeed a High Fae, Azriel guessed, based on the gentle taper of her ears and the timeless look in her eyes. She stood tall, her posture neither arrogant nor meek, just quietly assured. Long hair, light brown and lustrous, fell behind her back, with small curls at the ends that softened the lines of her figure. She’d tucked the strands behind her ears, revealing a face that mixed elegance with warmth. Her eyes were a deep, rich blue—Azriel thought of midnight skies reflected on calm waters—steady and clear as she surveyed the room.

A soft smile curved her lips, genuine rather than practiced. He recalled how quickly she’d left him this morning, offering only a brief apology. Now, seeing her fully, he understood why his memory had clung to that brief encounter. Hers was a beauty that felt natural, not forced—grace in the set of her shoulders, kindness in the soft curve of her mouth.

Madja stepped forward, inclining her head to Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and Azriel. Her companion followed, a respectful dip of her chin acknowledging their status. Azriel watched as Y/N’s gaze flicked over each of them—first Rhys and Feyre, her eyes brightening with recognition of their roles, then Cassian, and finally coming to rest on him. For a heartbeat, their eyes met, and he could have sworn he saw a hint of amusement there, as if she, too, recalled that small mishap by the bakery.

He did not look away. He simply acknowledged her presence with a subtle nod, shadows stilling around him, curious and contemplative.

Madja offered a small smile of encouragement to Y/N as Rhysand and Feyre stepped forward. The High Lord’s posture was relaxed yet attentive, violet eyes reflecting quiet curiosity, while Feyre’s calm warmth radiated outward, creating a welcoming atmosphere. Cassian, still a step behind, nodded in greeting, arms loosely at his sides now. Azriel watched it all unfold, shadows settling into a content hush around him.

Rhysand’s voice was smooth and cordial as he broke the silence. “Madja, thank you for coming. We received your message,” he said, inclining his head to the old healer. “And this must be Y/N, your chosen successor?”

Madja nodded, gently touching Y/N’s elbow in a familiar, reassuring gesture. “Indeed. As I explained, Y/N has returned from her travels—more skilled and knowledgeable than ever. I believe she will serve the Night Court well, especially with what may lie ahead.”

Feyre’s gaze shifted to Y/N, her expression warm. “Welcome home,” she offered simply, the sincerity in her tone unmistakable. “We’ve heard much about you—and I’m sure we’ll have plenty of questions.”

Y/N’s smile deepened, the tension of meeting these influential figures easing a fraction. “It’s an honor to be here,” she replied, voice carrying a steady calm. “I’m grateful Madja trusted me enough to call me back. I hope to prove worthy of that trust.”

Cassian snorted lightly, not unkindly. “If Madja trusts you, that’s already a high recommendation. The rest, I think, will fall into place soon enough.”

Madja tilted her head in gentle agreement. “We will not rush this transition,” the older healer said, her tone practical and kind. “I’m not disappearing tomorrow. For the coming weeks—perhaps months—Y/N and I will work side by side. She will get to know our healers, understand their rhythms, and learn the intricacies of how our wards are organized. By the time I step back fully, she will have found her footing and earned the confidence of every healer under this roof.”

Azriel quietly observed Y/N’s reaction to these words. There was no flash of panic, no tension coiling in her shoulders. Instead, just a measured acceptance, as though she’d been preparing for this for a long time.

Y/N nodded, turning her gaze to Madja briefly, then to Rhysand and Feyre. “I appreciate this gradual approach. It will give me a chance to reacquaint myself with the Night Court’s traditions. I’ve learned much elsewhere, but integrating it here—especially if a war is on the horizon—requires care.”

Her mention of looming conflict stirred something in the air. Azriel noticed how Rhysand’s jaw tightened just so. Feyre’s eyes flickered with a hint of steel beneath their kindness. Cassian’s grin faded slightly, replaced by a sober light in his hazel eyes.

Rhysand offered Y/N a small, approving nod. “Caution is wise. We will likely rely on your skills, your counsel, and your ability to coordinate healers in the field if trouble does come knocking.”

Feyre chimed in softly, “We’ve seen how vital good healers are, not only for soldiers but for civilians, for stabilizing morale. Your presence isn’t just medical; it’s strategic.”

Y/N’s lashes lowered briefly, acknowledging the weight of these words. “I understand,” she said, a calmness threading through her voice. “Healing is more than closing wounds—it’s about maintaining hope, ensuring that fear doesn’t consume everyone. I’ll do my best to uphold that.”

Madja’s smile warmed the room. “You see why I chose her,” she said quietly, pride evident in every syllable.

Azriel inclined his head at Y/N, a quiet gesture of respect. She seemed to notice, meeting his gaze for a fraction before turning back to Rhysand and Feyre. He thought back to their brief encounter that morning—the quick collision, the apology, her hasty departure. Already that memory seemed distant, replaced by the impression of a calm, capable presence who might very well become an anchor in the uncertain times ahead.

“Well,” Rhysand said, after a moment, “I suppose all that remains is to officially welcome you into this role. Y/N, you have our full support. In the coming days, we can introduce you to the healers, and you can start making your own assessments.” He paused, a faint tilt to his smile. “And, of course, do not hesitate to call on any of us if you need assistance.”

Cassian smirked softly. “Just don’t ask me to bandage anyone’s wounds—I’m all thumbs with that,” he teased, the tension in the room easing into something lighter.

Feyre rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “Ignore him. He’s quite good at following orders when it counts.”

Y/N let out a gentle laugh, and even Azriel’s lips curved slightly, the corners of his mouth barely lifting but enough to notice. The wind seemed to ease outside the windows, the hush of snow falling quietly on Velaris’s spires. Within the House of Wind’s halls, the new healer had been welcomed, the path of her mentorship and eventual succession laid out clearly.

Madja’s eyes shone with satisfaction. “Then it’s settled. We’ll begin tomorrow morning. Y/N, I’ll show you around the wards, let you meet a few of the lead healers.” She glanced at Rhysand and Feyre, and then at Cassian and Azriel. “The rest will follow naturally.”

Azriel considered the moment: transitions were often fraught with uncertainty, but here, in the presence of trust and openness, they felt manageable. He said nothing more, content to stand by and watch as a new cornerstone of the Night Court’s strength stepped quietly into place.

----

don't hesitate to comment if you want to be added to the tag list ;)))

tag list : @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @bravo-delta-eccho @messageforthesmallestman @celestialgilb @tiredsleepyhead @annamariereads16 @arcanefeelingz @fuckingsimp4azriel @adventure-awaits13 @diaouranask @rcarbo1 @6v6babycheese @goodvibesonlyxd @sa54va87to90re12 @firefly-forest @babypeapoddd @hailqueenconquer

[caffienemocha]

Ace from One Piece please

(oh boy oh boy I'm getting out of my hiatus for this one. BTW THIS IS A SHORT FAN FIC because I've been in a tight schedule and this was just a short ramble :0)

<WARNING: NSFW AHEAD so minors DNI >> any readers that doesn't identify as a male DNI!! >>

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ PORTGAS D. ACE X MALE READER ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

˗ˏˋ 'lemme make it up to you ˎˊ˗

You asked yourself, how did you end up being the boyfriend of the infamous Portgas D. Ace? Although he seems like a cocky, cool, and composed fellow, he's actually pretty clumsy and a dumbass most of the time. You take care of his mess, cook food for him three times a day (not including his midnight snacks), the usual house husband type of stuff. Although he sails around the sea, embarking with the Whitebeard Pirates gathering treasures and casually causing chaos and annoyance to wandering Marine in the area, Ace still holds a fair share of help in the house that rested near the dock the two you live in by giving you an allowance to buy groceries and things you want and need. Ace isn't the perfect boyfriend and he knows it. The countless nights you've slept alone without Ace by your side from his sailings, and even when he returns, he'll either leave in a short while, a few days or even a day after. He tries to make it up to you, by trying to cheer you up with gifts, affection, or straight up session after session of love-making. That doesn't fill the emptiness in your heart though, you wanted Ace to stay for a bit longer, you wanted him to at least stay for a few weeks. You wanted him to take you on dates like the first weeks of you two being boyfriends, you wanted him to treat you like a prince and pamper you as much as he did those years ago. But it was a duty of a pirate to sail the blue oceans, cross the seas, hunt for treasures, and wipe those oppose them, only to come back for a short while before leaving again. Again, you asked yourself, how'd you ended up for someone who isn't there for you most of the time?

..."I'm home." The door creaked open as the salty breeze of the sea nearby went inside the house as Ace took off his shoes and placed it right by the door before closing it and locking it. Holding a small box of treasure full of gold, jewels, and other gems, Ace took off his hat as he went inside the cozy abode, placing the box on the center table. "Welcome back, Ace." You greeted your taller boyfriend with a warm smile as you came out the kitchen, the aroma coming from the room behind you smelled magically and comforting for Ace, he hadn't eaten for a while. "There's my baby. C'mere." He softly chuckled as you took steps forward to his muscular figure who had his arms open wide, wanting to hug you after a few weeks apart. With a sigh of amusement, you hugged him back as your rugged clothes rubbed against his exposed torso. "I missed you so bad, why do you have to be gone for so long..." You said in a whiny tone, as if begging him to stay more longer than usual. Ace's instinct immediately had his arms wrapped around your smaller frame, his muscled arms comforting you. "I know, babe, I know...we already had this conversation before. The seas are big." Ace sighed as if wanting to stay like this forever but his stomach gurgled in response, betraying his thoughts as he let out a nervous laugh, "Quite hungry." "Obviously, you knucklehead." You replied sarcastically. "What're you cooking? Smells delicious." Ace asked with the familiar smile you've been wanting to see after the past few days. "You'll see, c'mon." As you grabbed his arm, you immediately lead him to the kitchen with a pot placed atop a stove, releasing steams of flavorful aroma that lingered around the room. "How about you take a seat while I prepare your food?" Ace only nodded at your words before going out of the kitchen, sitting in the living room as he whistled. Grabbing the pot cover, you grabbed a bowl as you used your ladle to scoop up the delicious stew you've cooked and tenderized ever since this morning. Serving it atop of freshly, cooked rice, you stepped out of the kitchen holding a bowl and a spoon for Ace to use to chow down. Placing it in front of him, the aroma hit Ace's nose as the delicious bowl of protein and rice laid before him. "Looks delicious, babe. Thanks." He said before grabbing it and chowing it all down spoon after spoon.

"So, what have you been up to while I was gone?" Ace asked in between bites and chewing. The question caught you off-guard, why so sudden? Yet you answered. "The usual. Clean the house, walk around the dock, watch the sea, buy groceries..." Your voice faded with a mutter as you scratched the back of your head. Ace knew something was wrong, something that signaled him that you truly need him. That he'll stay longer than what he usually does so. Ace didn't replied back until he was finished with his bowl of food, drinking water to wash it all down. Without warning, Ace then pinned you to the chair you're sitting on, his eyes nonchalant yet a glimmer of care and worry shining on his pupils. "Tell me what's wrong. You've missed me so much than usual, huh? Is that right?" He interrogated you as he continued pressing your wrist down the rails of the chair, his face mere inches away from yours. You let out a blush of flustered feelings and a scoff. "You're always gone, of course I've missed you..." You replied in a muttered voice, Ace let out a smirk as he got closer to your face, his freckles adoring his already handsome complexion. "'Lemme make it up to you then, babe." Without warning, he carried you on his shoulders as he went to the bedroom, locking it just after he, and along you on his shoulders, came in and throwing you to bed. "I always remembered you like it rough, you little masochist."

Out of his back revealed a rope, placing it roughly beside your body as the taller male ripped you out of your clothes, placing the torn linen to the floor. Your cute little body obviously turned him on, seeing how his noticeable, massive bulge on his crotch. "I'm gonna make it up to you- I'll go rougher than usual ... so better say yes or no before I ravage your entire body and leave it sore."

[🔥] like for part 2

[2millu2]

Forbidden Sweet - Monkey. D Luffy

ఌ Ft. Luffy x crewmate/ bestfriend fem reader

WC: 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, PwP, aphrodisiac ,oral (male receiving), Penetration, Luffy begin Luffy ,Needy Luffy ,Riding, fem reader,

Luffy's messy black hair was tousled by the warm sea breeze as the Thousand Sunny sailed across the rolling waves of the Grand Line. He stood at the bow of the ship, rubber body leaning forward with an adventurous grin stretched across his face as always. Even after all this time, the thrill of exploring new islands and seeking the ultimate freedom as the Pirate King still filled him with unbridled excitement.

From the galley, the aroma of Sanji's latest culinary masterpiece wafted through the air, causing Luffy's stomach to growl hungrily. As the captain made his way over, he saw Nami emerging onto the deck. The navigator's slender figure was accentuated by her tight shirt and short skirt as her long, tangerine hair cascaded over her shoulders. Luffy felt his heartbeat quicken slightly as their eyes met.

"Nami!" Luffy called with a wave, that infectious smile creeping across his lips. "What's for dinner? I'm starving!"

The young woman rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling back at her simple but endearing captain. "Patience, Luffy. Sanji's still putting the finishing touches on the meal."

:::Time Skip:::

Luffy wandered into the galley kitchen, stomach rumbling loudly as usual. Sanji had kicked him out earlier while preparing the main meal, so the raven-haired captain was searching for a snack to tide him over. His dark eyes scanned the shelves as he let himself into the pantry area.

At the very back, tucked away, Luffy spotted a bar of fancy-looking dark chocolate. Chocolate was one of his favorite treats, so he snatched it up eagerly. As he turned the bar over in his hands, he noticed the wrapper said "Aphrodisiac" printed on it. Luffy furrowed his brow in confusion at the unfamiliar word but shrugged it off. Chocolate was chocolate in his book!

He tore into the rich bar, quickly devouring it with his usual voracious appetite. Not satisfied, he kept rummaging and quickly fin off any other snacks he could find stashed away - cakes, pies, baskets of fruit, and his favorite meat. Patting his now bulging belly contentedly, Luffy gave a loud burp and was about to head back outside.

That's when he felt it - a strange, tingling warmth spreading through his body. His heart started pounding harder as he broke out into a sweat. Looking down, Luffy's eyes widened as he noticed the prominent tent rising in the front of his red shorts. He had gotten random erections before but they usually went away quickly. This time felt...different, more intense.

Luffy squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his face flush bright red as confusing waves of arousal washed over him. He couldn't control the instinctive urge to reach down and palm himself through his shorts, soft groans escaping his lips. What was happening to him?

He felt off and was going to look for Chopper. When suddenly, the reality of his situation dawned on Luffy - he was the only one left on board the Sunny! The rest of the crew had gone to explore the nearby island's forests in search of some legendary treasure. His best friend, you, were the only other person still on the ship. If there was anyone who could help, it was you.

Luffy quickly pulled open the door to the kitchen, stumbling out as he tried to keep one hand discreetly pressed against the throbbing bulge between his legs. With his free hand, he fanned at the beads of sweat dappling his forehead as he staggered toward your quarters, tongue lolling slightly.

You had just woken up from a nap and were startled by the loud knocking at your door. As you pulled it open, you were greeted by the sight of your dear captain - panting heavily with flushed cheeks, a glazed look in his eyes as he stared at you desperately.

"(Y/N)...need...help..." Luffy gasped out between ragged breaths. He his hand squeezed his bulge as another shudder ran through his body.

You felt your own face heating up in a blush. "L-Luffy? What's wrong?!"

The dark-haired boy swallowed hard before finally groaning, "I ate...this weird...chocolate. Now I feel...really weird..." He trailed off as another wave of arousal hit, causing him to involuntarily grind his hips forward.

Realization slowly dawned on you as you noticed him not-so-discreetly palming the huge tent stretching his red shorts. The snacks he ate must have been laced with aphrodisiacs! You opened your mouth to tell him you needed to go find Chopper right away.

But before you could speak, Luffy cut you off with a desperate whine, "I...I can't wait anymore!" In one quick motion, he shoved his shorts down over his straining erection, finally allowing his long, throbbing cock to spring free. Your eyes widened at the sight of his impressive size, the flushed head already dribbling streams of sticky pre-cum.

"Please..." Luffy's chest heaved as he gazed at you pleadingly, one hand wrapped around his thick shaft to slowly stroke himself. "You gotta help me..."

You felt your throat go dry as you stared back at his sinfully erotic cock before you. Finally finding your voice, you managed to choke out, "W-What...do you need me to do?"

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your eyes away from the lewd sight of Luffy feverishly stroking his m cock right there in the hallway of the Sunny. A thin sheen of sweat glistened over his toned, tanned torso as he panted hotly through parted lips. Even in this compromising state, his penetrating gaze still radiated that same sense of earnestness and trust.

"Please...Touch me," Luffy half-whispered, half-whined. The ache in his throbbing shaft had reached an unbearable peak, his body trembling with unfulfilled need. "It won't stop...throbbing. I don't know what to do."

Watching a string of pre-cum trail down the side of his flushed erection, you felt an unmistakable pulse of arousal between your own legs. How could you possibly resist your captain's pleas when he looked at you with those desperate, needy eyes? You were the only one who could provide him relief.

Decision made, you stepped forward and gently took Luffy's hand to guide him back into your quarters. The rubber boy followed obediently. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Luffy eagerly crowded into your personal space - the heated musk of his arousal enveloping you in heady waves.

"L-Luffy..." you breathed, suddenly very aware of his powerful, chiseled physique looming over your smaller frame. Your throat felt tight with desire as his gaze roamed hungrily over the curves of your body. Tentatively, you reached out to wrap your fingers around the thick base of his thick length. An impatient moan tumbled from Luffy's lips at the new contact.

"yes...please..." he whimpered unabashedly, surrendering himself to your touch. "Make it feel better..."

Giving his thick cock a few, slow experimental strokes, you marveled at the sleek heat and impressive girth pulsing against your palm. Precum continued to steadily bead out of the flushed, swollen tip - creating a deliciously lewd sound with each stroke of your hand.

Fueled by Luffy's shameless moans of approval, you gradually increased your pace - twisting your wrist with more conviction on every upstroke. His fingers sank into your hair, not guiding but just grasping as tremors of ecstasy wracked his frame.

"Ah! (Y/N)...!" Luffy cried out, completely lost in rapture as his hips stuttered forward to meet your strokes. His breath came in ragged pants - almost pained in their intensity. "Don't...stop...!"

With your free hand cupping his heavy sac, you could feel his heavy balls tightening in anticipation of release even as they continued to churn out ropes of fresh arousal. Luffy's broken whimpers had dissolved into a mantra of curses and moans that could undoubtedly be heard echoing down the ship's hallways.

Luffy's breath came in shallow, ragged pants - lips parted wantonly as his hips snapped forward in frantic thrusts to meet your steadily pumping fist. His thick cock felt achingly hard in your palm, veins throbbing as his arousal reached a feverish peak.

"I can't...!" The string of curses dissolved into a guttural groan as Luffy's spine arched rigidly. His nails dug into your shoulders as hot ropes of sticky release began spurting from his swollen tip - rope after rope of thick, seed splattering across your hand, wrist and even streaking up towards your face and heaving chest.

A litany of filthy grunts and whimpers spilled from Luffy's slack jaw as he surrendered to the throes of climax, hips jerking erratically until the last few weak spurts dribbled down your fingers. Panting harshly, the raven-haired captain slowly dragged his glazed eyes back up to meet your own heated gaze, a dazed look of bliss painted across his features.

Amazingly, even after such a powerful orgasm, his erection barely flagged - still achingly stiff and flushed with arousal. Luffy groaned in a mixture of relief and renewed desperation as you continued to sensually stroke him, your slick palm effortlessly gliding up and down his impressive length.

“(Y/N)..." he whimpered brokenly. "It's still not enough...I need more..."

You felt a dizzying rush of heat between your own thighs at his shameless confession. Reluctantly releasing your grip on Luffy's thick shaft, you gazed up at him through hooded lids. "Get on the bed," you uttered in a breathy tone that was half-command, half-request.

Without hesitation, the rubber captain eagerly complied - climbing onto your mattress and splaying himself out with blatant, lust-fueled abandon. He shamelessly spread his legs, putting his glistening cock on full display while fixing you with a hungry look.

You felt your cheeks flush hotly, suddenly self-conscious as you slowly shed your own clothes, revealing your naked form to Luffy's raking gaze. His throat bobbed visibly as his piercing eyes drank in every soft curve and dusky swell of your body. Once fully bared, you tentatively crawled up to straddle Luffy - hovering your slick entrance just an inch above his swollen tip.

Glancing down at his thick cock, throbbing and flushed with need, you felt a fresh wave of arousal pool between your thighs. With a steadying breath, you reached between your bodies to grasp his heated length, guiding the swollen head to nudge against your wet folds.

Luffy's breath hitched sharply at the initial contact, his raw expression one of naked longing and impatience. He held himself tantalizingly still, fully putting his trust in your movements as you gradually sank down - inch by delicious inch - until your combined gasps melted into twin moans of satisfaction.

"Ahh...L-Luffy..." you shuddered as you felt him stretching and filling your slick walls to the hilt. It was all you could do to still your shaking thighs as your body slowly adjusted to his incredible size.

"(Y/N)..." The captain's voice was a strangled groan as you gradually lifted your hips, nearly pulling his thick cock free before sinking back down in one smooth thrust. A violent shudder ripped through his frame as he instinctively bucked his hips to meet your sensual rhythm. "More...!"

Biting your lip, you gradually increased your steady pace - turning your hips in tight circles as you rode his throbbing length with fervor. Your breasts bounced heavily as Luffy's hands flew up to grasp your sides, his fingers digging into your hips as he encouraged your movements.

Each time you impaled yourself on his cock it sent sparks cascading across your nerves, dragging Luffy's girth against your silken walls with deliciously lewd noises. You felt almost delirious with pleasure, a sheen of sweat blossoming over your flushed skin. Still, it somehow wasn't enough to sate the aching need coiling low in your core.

Luffy seemed to sense your desperation for more as a familiar, feral glint flashed across his lust-darkened gaze. With a low, possessive growl rumbling in his throat, he suddenly surged upright - wrapping his stretchy arms around your lower back. Effortlessly reversing your position, Luffy pinned you beneath his frame, situating himself between your spread thighs as he loomed over you with that wild, ravenous look.

"My turn," he grunted before capturing your lips in a searing, needful kiss. His hips drew back, his thick cock leaving a deliciously empty ache in its wake...only to slam back into your cunt a second later with bruising force! You cried out into Luffy's mouth - partly from pain, but mostly from the dizzying wave of euphoria that crashed over your senses.

Luffy's hips snapped forward relentlessly - burying himself to the hilt with each frenzied thrust as he chased his feverish need for release. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin filled the cabin, punctuated by your intermingled cries of ecstasy.

With his hand fisted in your hair and face buried in the crook of your neck, Luffy took you with wild, almost feral desperation. His harsh grunts and the rigid tension in his body spoke of the single-minded intensity fueling his motions.

You could do little but cling to his sweaty back, nails raking heated lines down his tanned skin as Luffy's swollen arousal stretched and filled you to the brink. Each punishing slam of his hips stoked the flickering flames of your own impending orgasm higher.

"L-Luffy!" you cried out, back arching as you teetered just on the edge. "I'm...I can't...!"

As if sensing your desperation, a low, groan rumbled in Luffy's broad chest. Your hand abruptly snaked down between your writhing bodies to urgently stroke the bundle of nerves nestled between your folds. That final spike of stimulation was all it took to plunge you over the dizzying precipice.

Your release crashed over you in shattering waves as you arched against Luffy inner walls fluttering and pulsing around his thick cock in rhythmic spasms. White-hot pleasure danced across every nerve, temporarily blinding you to everything except the lingering ghost of Luffy's name on your lips.

Even as the world slowly bled back into focus, you felt Luffy's own harsh pantings ghosting against the skin of your neck as his tempo reached a feverish pace. His hips snapped forward in tight, erratic jolts - burying to the hilt with each punishing grind.

With a hoarse, animalistic groan muffled against your throat, Luffy stiffened above you - his cock twitching and pulsing as he finally found his own shattering release. You moaned softly at the feeling of his thick seed spilling in heavy spurts, painting your fluttering walls white with each spurts.

For several minutes, the only sounds were your harsh, rasping breaths slowly calming as you clung to each other in the hazy aftermath. Luffy eventually stirred enough to prop himself up on one elbow, gazing down at your thoroughly spent form through a sweaty fringe of raven hair with unmistakable gratitude and adoration.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he whispered with uncharacteristic tenderness, leaning in to brush his lips gently against your own, "I needed that..."

You mustered a weary, but deeply contented smile in return as you reached up to toy with the mess of tangled hair. "Anytime, Luffy...anytime."

You both fall asleep laying on your bed until you both heard the sound of Sanji yelling

“LUFFY YOU ATE ALL THE FOOD” Sanji yelled through the Sunny as he must had found the empty pantry Luffy let out a loud laugh and you giggle beside him knowing him all to well.