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faebled-stories · 2 days ago

Text

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.

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withmyloveasyourgarden · 3 days ago

Text

NINE YEARS LATE

EDDIE MUNSON x F!READER

A yearly Halloween tradition, zombie films and best friends who touch too much for it to not mean anything. 4K of fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

When you met Eddie Munson at eleven years old, he pointed at your exorcist t-shirt and asked what your favourite horror movie was.

To anyone else it might have been strange, the way the boy's eyes were so bright, his expression caught between nervous and excited like nothing else at that time was more important than the answer you were about to give.

But you gave it with a shy grin and without hesitation, watching a little stunned as the boy brightened and his lips stretched wide into a beaming smile that, even then, left your heart warm and you completely powerless to resist the hand that circled your wrist and yanked you down onto the grass beside him.

He took a cookie from his lunchbox and pressed it into your hand, skin smudged with chocolate and pride in his voice when he told you how he had sneakily watched Night of the Living Dead when his uncle wasn't home and that was now his favourite.

You wrinkled your nose a little as you ate, unable to help the reaction because you didn't understand the zombie appeal, cheeks flushing when Eddie caught it too and threw both hands to his chest, his back hitting the ground with a thud as he flung himself down, like you'd personally betrayed everything he held dear.

"Don't tell me you don't like zombies!" He'd gasped in horror, struggling not to grin when he lifted himself up on his elbows and noticed, far too pleased, that despite the way you had hid your face in your hands, there was a telltale smile in your voice at his theatrics.

"I don't not like them exactly." You countered, eyes appearing above your fingers to watch the way the boy snorted and quirked a disbelieving brow in your direction before you allowed your hands to fall away, huffing. "I mean it! It's not that I hate them or anything, they just give me creeps."

He nodded at your shirt. "And demonic possession doesn't?"

"No?"

'Weirdo." He mumbled, voice soft, and then almost immediately winced, his eyes darting worriedly to yours because what if you didn't catch the way his tone turned fond as he said it? He didn't want you to think he was being mean like so many other kids were in Hawkins when someone wasn't like them.

But then you laughed, the sound clear and sweet, and there was relief in Eddie's chest mixed with a little awe, something innocently adoring because even though he would never admit it, he was pretty sure that was his new favourite sound in the whole world.

'Says the boy who thinks a zombie movie is the best horror." You teased, tongue poking out at him when he shook his head and aimed a playful little kick to your leg, scuffed trainers nudging at your thigh.

There was a moment of easy silence that followed, a few beats where the two of you shared soft, toothy grins before the boy ducked his head and you tipped yours back to gaze at the cloudy autumn sky, fingers twisting in the grass whilst joy swirled in your chests at this new found friendship.

It was impossible to miss the exact second he had the idea, the way he scrambled to sit upright, all long arms and gangly legs because even back then Eddie had been tall for his age. The grin that stretched his cheeks was wild, excitement crackling from him as he scooted closer until he was sat directly in front of you, knees brushing against yours.

"There's only one way to settle this." He blurted suddenly, pleased when your startled gaze turned instantly curious, body leaning forward to signal he had your full attention. "We have a movie marathon. You can come to mine and we can watch both of our favourites and maybe a few more and then we rank them."

You nodded slow, thoughtful , the sharp trill of the bell signalling the end of recess making you jump and Eddie groan. "Okay. That sounds fun. But what if we can't agree on what ranks first?"

Eddie rose ungracefully to his feet and you had to shield your eyes from the low burning sun when you looked up at him, light dousing him in gold that made his eyes look like pools of warm caramel when he grinned down at you and offered you his hand.

"Then we keep having marathons until we do."

Nine years later and you Eddie still hadn't agreed.

You were beginning to think you never would. Or maybe even if by some miracle you did, you still wouldn't tell the boy that had become your best friend the moment he'd asked you that question in the playground.

Because it had become your tradition now. These marathons that you had every October 1st without fail because that was the same date that you showed up at Eddie's door for the very first time, a box of cookies in your hand that your mom had sent you over with and a beaming smile that had matched his when he'd flung the door wide open and pulled you inside.

You weren't sure when it became your favourite day of the year or when Eddie became your favourite person but it did and so did he. Never happier than when you were surrounded by warm blankets with a hot chocolate cradled in your hands.

There was always plates piled with freshly baked goods on your laps, movies playing that you sometimes wouldn't remember the names of after and your face pressed to the boy's collarbone when things occasionally got too scary. His arm looped around your shoulder so he could murmur, soft and sweet, against your hair. "It's okay, it's nearly over."

You also weren't too sure when your feelings for your best friend began to change, only that they most definitely had.

He was still the same Eddie, your Eddie. He was big, warm eyes and startlingly pretty grins, an energy that made you think of bottled lightning, the kind you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, beautiful and utterly unruly.

He was all-encompassing hugs, tangled limbs in a too small bed when one of you stayed the night because even if you were to lay at the other end, the boy would somehow still find his way to you in his sleep, strong arms pulling you tight to his chest and a happy sigh on his lips.

But somewhere through the years, through the horrors that started on the screen where they should have stayed but then seemed to leech into your real lives, the familiar touches came more frequently and hands lingered long enough that it caused pulses to spike. Hugs got a little longer too, a little tighter.

There was a reluctance to let go when mornings came around, no longer shy or embarrassed when streams of pinkish gold filtered through the window and stirred you awake only to find the two of you were once again moulded around each other, fingers linked between your bodies.

Instead it felt right, like that was how you belonged. A Feeling that only grew with each year that passed.

Each October 1st that you refused any other plans because this was yours and Eddie's day. Every time you turned up to the other's homes, sitting a little too close on the couch than was considered friendly, eyes drifting to watch each other instead of whichever person was fighting for their lives on the tv when you thought you wouldn't get caught.

It grew, blooming wild and stubborn in your chest, snaking around each rib, until you were forced to admit to yourself that you were in love with him.

And that scared you more than any horror movie ever could.

"Sweetheart, you're supposed to be watching this, not hiding through the whole thing."

The admonishment in Eddie's voice was weak - too soft to be truly serious and even if you couldn't tell by the boy's tone, the way he grinned at you when you finally lowered your mug, with what he thought was the most adorable pout on your face, immediately gave him away.

It made you poke your toes into his jean clad thigh in retaliation, a choking gasp of faux betrayal bubbling past your lips when he caught at your ankle and tickled your foot with quick fingers before you could yank it back under the safety of the blanket he'd thrown over you earlier.

You were a lot less mad than you would have been had it been anyone else and christ if Eddie didn't know it, his eyes bright even in the low flickering light of the room and the pillow of his lower lip caught between his teeth to choke down a laugh as he threateningly wriggled his fingers at you once again.

Glaring at the boy across from you, there was a half hearted grumble to your voice when you aimed a nod towards the person being ripped apart by the undead horde on the screen and told him. "You know this wouldn't be a problem if you didn't bring a zombie movie nearly every year."

The noise he made in response told you that wasn't going to happen. But as he leant forward, stretching over to the coffee table to grab a cookie that he then practically inhaled, you could feel his eyes on you. The way he was silently checking if you actually thought the movie was too much or if you were just playing up because you liked to mess with him.

"You want me to turn it off? We could put the next movie on?" He asked in the way he always did, a little teasing but still sweet, touched with hope because you both knew what he would ask next when you shook your head, determined like you always were to sit through the movie just because Eddie loved it.

And you tried to not let it show on your face the way your heart fluttered and swooped in the cage your ribs when he opened his arms the moment you gave your answer, looking far more enticing than you thought a best friend ever should.

All wrapped in a large sweater with sleeves that drooped over his ringed fingers, cosy blankets tossed over his lap and curls still messy from the weather outside.

It really was unfair just how fucking pretty Eddie was.

"Wanna come here?" He murmured in a way that made your cheeks warm, your pulse jumping from fear that he'd caught the way you were staring and his lips tugging up into a soft grin when he added. "Promise I'll keep you safe from zombies."

You narrowed your eyes like it was an offer that you needed to consider - something that took a ridiculous effort considering how badly you suddenly ached to fall into the boy.

In return he rolled his own at the suspicious gaze that you flicked over him - from his fondly exasperated expression to the hands that made impatient little grabbing motions whilst you fought back a smile and warned. "Only if you don't tickle me again."

There was a soft snort when he laughed, grin turning impish as he took matters into his own hands and reached over to pluck your mug from your fingers, placing it on the table before catching you in a gentle grip. "I swear on Dustin's mother I won't tickle you again. Now c'mere."

And so you went - with a shake of your head to hide your smile, you let yourself be pulled into him.

Desperately trying to ignore the way your skin buzzed beneath his touch as he lifted the blanket and folded you tight into his side, waiting for you to throw your arm around his waist and swing your legs over his lap until there was no part of you left that wasn't pressed up against him.

He looked like he was trying and failing to hide how pleased he was as he drew the blanket over the two of you and you all but melted in his arms. Corners of his lips quirking and a soft dusting of pink creeping over his cheeks when his hand automatically began stroking over your hair and you let slip a quiet little sound that was half sigh, half moan - his body still burning despite the innocence of it.

For a little while after that an easy silence fell over you both, a sense of contentment that couldn't be broken by the sounds of gore that came from the screen.

Eddie smelt like Autumn with every slow inhale you took, like cold, night air and smoke, spice from the cologne you bought him two birthdays ago and the cinnamon off the pastries you'd baked especially for that night that he'd almost completely devoured within half an hour of sitting down.

He was warm in a way that felt like safety when he wrapped you up in him like this and it was all too easy to forget how much the movie had previously made your stomach turn slightly. Now barely even batting an eye when somebody screamed because you were too happy being lulled by the rise and fall of Eddie's chest beneath your cheek and the weight of his head rested atop of your own.

You watched the screen with an almost foggy type of interest. A little dazed by the hand that had previously been playing with your hair now slipping down, fingers dancing over the nape of your neck and down your spine to where it eventually stopped. Palm moulded flat to the dip in your back - the heat of it searing through your shirt.

His other hand was curved around your knee - thumb stroking soft circles on the inside that made a tremor sweep over your skin.

It took you far too long to realise when he eventually spoke, oblivious to his smile, the question he pressed to your hair at your shiver, until your trance was broken by the rumble of a soft laugh when a beat too long passed without any response.

Gentle fingers that had previously been resting on your knee were now hooking beneath your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his as he dipped his head to look at you in a way that made your mouth run dry.

"Still with me there sweetheart?" He asked. Voice low, hushed, a little rougher and less teasing than you think he had intended it to be.

And suddenly the room felt a little warmer than before, an electricity present that crackled in the limited space between your bodies.

You swallowed hard, stomach twisting, the sounds of horror in the background fading to a mere hum as you nodded. Your breath hitched when your nose brushed his but you made no move to pull back and if the boy heard it, he didn't say anything. "M'here." You whispered. "What- what did you say?"

In the near-dark you watched him bite back a strained smile, curls bouncing as he shook his head ever so slightly, not at you, but at the way he suddenly felt tongue tied. Frozen with his fingers still cupping your chin and his mind alarmingly blank because you were just so close and fuck, what was it that he'd said again?

"I uh," He stumbled, words a little awkward as he attempted to subtly clear his throat." I was just wondering how you can't watch a zombie movie without hiding behind me, which to be clear, I am not complaining about , but when we got attacked by demon bats you were totally fucking fearless."

You felt flushed at how awestruck he sounded, gaze lowering and your hand coming to clasp his wrist, touch gentle on the scars that only recently healed there. "I was hardly fearless Eds." You muttered.

But the boy was already tutting, an argument ready on his tongue before you could finish your dismissal.

"Babe, I watched you decapitate one of those things with an oar like it was nothing." He grinned, feeling a little more daring as he grazed his thumb just below your lip, eyes dark on you as your lashes fluttered and you swayed further into the touch. "It was the most metal thing I've ever seen, maybe the hottest too."

He added the last part like a whisper and maybe it was the way you felt too fuzzy, not quite connected to your brain - a little too lovesick and touch-drunk from the way Eddie was surrounding you. The words that set your blood alight.

Or maybe it was just that the credits were rolling on a movie the two of you had barely watched because you'd been too focused on each other, the room falling into the type of darkness that made you a little less afraid of giving away your feelings for the boy.

But you found yourself telling him, unflinchingly honest and without a second thought. "I was only like that because they tried to hurt you, I was beyond terrified until then."

"Is that so?" Eddie mused. He was beaming like you'd just said the best thing he'd ever heard, like having proof of you being murderous at the idea of him being hurt was enough to light the boy up from the inside and make his features glow with a new softness.

You only hummed in response, heart suddenly in your throat, pulse fluttering wildly and you briefly wondered if Eddie could feel it when his hand slipped along your jaw. Thumb teasing along the edge and fingers warm on your neck.

"So if we ever got attacked by an undead horde instead of bats and cat-eating lizards?"

You laughed, shrugging. "Then I guess I'm beheading some zombies."

It was meant to be a light comment but it made the air around you grow heavy, like you couldn't move away even if your life depended on it, when he pressed his forehead to yours with a little theatrical groan.

The way his eyes bore into yours under the dark fringe of his lashes making you breath catch, lungs tight when he teased. "Careful babe, with that kind of talk I might think you're trying to make me fall in love with you."

You don't know what possessed you, the words spilt passed your lips before you could catch them.

"What if I was?"

You felt more than heard the sharp inhale of his breath, the way he froze beneath you, slack-jawed, eyes wide and searching like he was nervous of the possibility you'd suddenly laugh and tell him you were only joking.

But then he seemed to find something in the shyness of your own gaze that made his turn bold, his hand on your back pressing you that little bit firmer against him as he shifted to turn into you fully.

The smile tugging at his lips was one you'd never seen before, the type he only ever gave when he was sure you weren't looking because there was no doubt in his mind that every ounce of love he had for you was written all over his face.

And Eddie swallowed hard before he spoke, his voice shot, affection flooding through the cracks, whilst he bumped his nose to yours. "Then I'd say you're about nine years too late."

Oh.

Wait-

You made a choked sound of surprise as you jerked back to look at him, stunned, fingers curling tight into his jumper and the warm skin of his wrist so you could steady yourself.

"Nine years?" You repeated, feeling dumbstruck whilst Eddie laughed.

But then he was cupping your cheeks with both hands, drawing you back to him with a grin that was all dimples and soft honey eyes and it felt like your heart would burst in your chest when the moment he was confident he had your full attention, he told you. "Sweetheart, I was a goner from the moment you showed up on my doorstep."

"Oh."

It felt like you'd been utterly floored.

It hit you that through all the years that you'd been in love with your best friend you had never truly considered a reality where he felt the same, and now you had no clue how to react.

However you were suddenly, painfully aware of all the times where you'd ached to touch him in a way that you'd then had to remind yourself wasn't allowed, all the time you could have spent learning what his lips felt like on yours, how he tasted. How long you could have called him yours if you both hadn't been so scared.

It felt like a crime to let it go on any longer.

"Eddie?" You whispered, nerves like a champagne fizz in your belly that then spread all the way to your fingers and toes as your eyes fluttered closed at his breath on your lips.

You could smell cinnamon and smoke, a hint of mint underneath, and god, you'd never craved something so bad as you did him.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

He sounded no better than you - voice hoarse - a little wrecked. Thumbs digging into the hinges of your jaw like he was desperate to keep you anchored to him as he waited with baited breath for you to ask.

"Can I kiss you?"

His mouth was on yours before you could finish.

Soft and sweet at first despite the energy you could practically feel thrumming beneath his skin. You swallowed the groan that almost immediately slipped from his throat, both hands coming up to clutch at his wrists as he tugged you closer, tilting your jaw so he could deepen the kiss - lips sliding over yours again and again as you clung to him.

When you parted, it was only for a handful of seconds. A beat to catch your breath, to stare at each other like you couldn't believe this was finally happening. But then you caught sight of Eddie, eyes burning dark and hooded, lips swollen with your kisses, and it already felt like far too long.

Clearly Eddie felt the same.

The kiss became demanding when you crashed back together, greedy lips and greedy hands, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before hungrily licking into your mouth. And then you were being pulled onto his lap, soft thighs falling open for him to fit beneath you and the prettiest moan you'd ever heard coming from the boy as your hips settled flush over his.

You gasped against him, a desperate noise that sent heat rushing to your cheeks, when his hand slipped under your shirt to grip your waist. Dizzy at the contrast of cold rings and warm fingers that were gently neading your skin, making you melt further into him than you thought possible.

It made him grip you that little bit harder, squeeze a little tighter to see if you'd make the same sweet sound for him again and Eddie felt like he'd go wild when you did. Like he could lose himself right there and then, with your fingers buried in his curls and your mouth hot on his, because you were all he could think about, see, hear and smell.

He was drowning in you and if you asked anything of him in this moment you can be damn sure that he'd do it in a fucking heartbeat if it meant you'd continue looking at him the way you were when your lips finally parted and you swayed back.

You were all soft smiles and slightly glassy eyed - a bit drunk on the way your best friend had kissed you like he would die if he didn't - and he couldn't resist stealing another, a second and then a third. Quick and a little clumsy because Eddie was smiling too.

There was so much warmth in your chest it felt like you could burst with it. All the emotions and feelings for the boy that you'd buried for so long now free to bloom wild and unhindered in the spaces between your ribs.

You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that poured past your lips, grinning so hard it hurt as he pressed his forehead to yours, thumbs stroking circles over your sides whilst he tried to pull you even closer.

'Strange." You mumbled, soft and a little drawn out like you were just waiting for him to ask.

He didn't let you wait long, nose brushing yours, heart-achingly indulgent.

"What is?"

"I think I've changed my mind about zombie movies, maybe they're not so bad after all."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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bunnys-kisses · 2 days ago

Text

lovingly dominant

capt. john price

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), size difference/kink, dom/sub dynamic, bdsm au, virgin!reader, light bdsm, praise (kink)

a/n: in a surprising twist, bunny has written call of duty again!! expect more cod stuff into december when the f1 season is over and it stops eating my brain <3

john price considered himself a little old fashioned. he thought it was better to have his birdie of the week on her back and rut into her until they both finished. he had no need for whips, chains, collars, and whatever else the world of bdsm had to offer.

but after so many missions and so many years, the pollution of combat bled into his sexual desires. he craved for control, near domination of his birdie. yes, they looked cute on their backs and their soft noises. but it looked far more appealing to keep her blindfolded, second guessing what was being done to her while price's filthy words spilled across her brain like wine on a white carpet. tainting her. tainting you.

most dominants loved a trained submissive. loved that they knew the ins and outs of the dynamic, tinkering to their liking. price on the other hand had a thing for over eager virgins. ones who got all their bdsm know-how from horribly written fan fiction. he liked to teach and guide, he liked to shape his submissive into the perfect image of what could be.

and when he met you, oh, well something else came up. an unwavering possessive need. price tried to not get possessive, this was all just a little game for sexual pleasure. but when he found out his little trainee worked at a flower shop, it was all over for him. it was only doubled down when you had your first meeting at a coffee shop and you got the most delicious looking slice of strawberry shortcake.

the cream on the corner of your mouth almost made john price lose resolve. instead he covered up with a cough before you asked, "do you want some, mister price." and who was john price to deny such a lovely girl her offer. you even fed it to him, a glimmer in your eye and gentle smile.

"it's lovely, baby girl." he said before he wiped a bit of the cream off his beard which made you giggle. that giggle seared into his brain and he knew that you weren't getting with any other man.

you met at his flat a few weeks later, and you were eager. price liked that. sex was only half as fun when the person he was fucking was almost having a good time. you came over in a big sweatshirt and jeans that were a little baggy, something that covered up. it made price curious as to what was hiding underneath.

"look beautiful, birdie." he said as he guided you inside and you got your sneakers off. you looked over at him to help you through the flat. you held onto him a little nervous, the only familiar thing in the place. price held you by the middle and let you press your face up against his strong chest.

he was in a flannel with a white undershirt and jeans. you could see the gold chain around his throat and the heavy chest hair. you had seen him naked from photos shared and he had seen you naked, but to feel it up close left a shiver of excitement through you. he leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head as he led you to the bedroom.

he said, "afterwards, i'll make ya some dinner. not the best chef, but, i can cook ya somethin' to replenish the energy you spent fucking me." he then ruffled your hair, which made your heart leap and he got you onto the bed.

you nodded meekly, you looked so small. so innocent. a girl like you should be on dated with finance guys or even the artsy kind. not a weathered, older military man like him. but even things in smaller packages can be surprising, just like when you took off your clothes and revealed a matching set of bra and panties. a soft grey colour with pastel yellow accents. it made price have to adjust himself in his jeans.

"ah, pretty girl got a surprise for me. how sweet?"

you nodded, "i wanted to make tonight special. good luck for a long... dynamic between us. so, you don't get rid of me if i suck." and soon you were in price's embrace while you still sat on the bed. your cheek pressed hard against his soft but firm middle.

he petted your head a little and said, "ah, don't worry, petal. even if you do bad tonight, i got every intention of trainin' ya. make you the perfect girl." the words spoken hit right to your core and when he pulled away long enough to strip down, you felt your eyes go wide for a moment.

a photo couldn't capture every inch of john price's skin. the scars, the tattoos, the hair, the muscle, the fat. he was like a big brown bear and it made you soaked. you shifted a little in your spot on the bed and rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. it was surprising that you were still a virgin, but you always chickened out. now as an adult, you wanted to just get it over with. but, you wanted to have fun. and why not have fun with a well experienced dom who wouldn't half-ass your first time. it didn't hurt that he had the kind of looks that would make any man with half a brain jealous.

"i hope i meet expectations." he chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. his cock stood at full attention and you swallowed. there was something so masculine about him, but not in a toxic way. he played with your hair once more before he patted your cheek, "no need to gawk, petal. i'm not goin' anywhere." and you swallowed. he chuckled before he got into bed with you and slowly unwrapped you of your lingerie like delicate christmas paper.

he hadn't been this excited to upwrap something since he got the toy firetruck as a kid. but in total fairness, you were hotter than any fire red truck. his hands grazed across your body with total tenderness and his hungry blue eyes gazed the skin.

the stretch marks, the moles, your own scarring. you were beautiful in ways that price couldn't describe. to compare you to something would be unfair to the thing being compared to your beauty. he took you by the wrist and kissed the center of it.

"this is a promise, petal. for as long as you keep me as your dominant and you my submissive, i with cherish you, adore you, and most of all. make sure that you cum over and over again." before he kissed you on the lips and got you onto your back. he admired you, "usually i like to take pretty things on their hands and knees. but, tonight's gotta be special, right, doll?"

you nodded.

he tapped your nose and said, "ah, ah, ah. that won't cut it. the words are 'yes, sir', got it? would hate to bruise that little behind during our first time."

you found your voice and said, "yes, sir." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek before price pulled away to rest on his knees to fuck you with just right. you felt heat course through your body as you took in the sight of him. burly, large from top to bottom.

course dark hair on his body, a little heft in his middle (but who didn't love that), a sparkle in his blue eyes, and hands large enough to break things between the digits. he admired you in return and said softly, "pretty little petal, yeah? ah, who let ya be so beautiful?" he chuckled as he rubbed his cock up against your slick sex, "i got so much to teach ya. how to tie ya up, how to gag ya properly. mmm, we'll have so much fun." he then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand. he held up the silver foil to you and said, "rule one, play safe or don't play at all."

you nodded and remembered to reply, "yes, sir."

price gave you a smile that lit you up and said, "good girl." then quickly got the condom on. he admired your soaked sex for a moment longer, "she achin' for me, huh? cute." then slowly, almost agonizingly, he inched into you and felt the spread of warmth through his body.

heaven was created with your pussy in mind. price was never a quick finisher, but he almost finished inside of you when he managed to get all of himself inside of you. he kept eyes and ears open, the type of examining done in his line of work, to make sure that you weren't in too much pain.

"ya alright?"

you nodded and swallowed.

price added, "baby girl. words." and then nodded his head when you replied that everything was okay, he nodded and said, "roger that." which made you pussy clench. a smile spread across price's face as he leaned forward. he captured your hands in his and pressed them to the bed under you. he chuckled lowly, "ah, someone likes a military man? a man in uniform gets ya goin'?" he kissed your pulse point, "ah, too cute, petal. i guess seeing that on my description didn't scare ya off." he rocked against you, "know it's a crime to mess up a man's uniform."

you swallowed, "sir. fuck." and felt the strike of heat through your body. you had to admit, you had seen a few photos of him in uniform. the beret, boots and all. and it made something turn in your stomach. only added an appeal to him that made you hot.

price replied, "i guess it worked out. because i like cute little civilians who are more than eager to make me feel good. doin' your civic duty makin' me cum, baby girl." these was a tension in his voice that made you heart hammer and your throat feel tight. the bed squeaked a little under the both of you as he continued his movements. he knew he was going to have an amazing time with you.

you whined, "please, sir."

"tell me. tell me what ya like about it? what gets my baby girl goin'? i gotta know, because maybe i can get somethin' together that'll rock your world." his words were hot and your cunt fluttered around his achy, hard cock. for a moment he was uncertain if you were actually a virgin, you took him so well.

you moaned when you felt a spark of pleasure in your core, your entire life had just been your hands and an assortment of toys. but to have price work your body beautifully was something else. you replied sweetly, "i... i want to thigh ride you in uniform." you felt a flush of embarrassment.

he chuckled, "oh that would be quite the sight, huh?" he continued to move against you beautifully, "i bet that i could make ya cum just from my thighs. rub your cunt all over it, messin' up the fabric. higher-ups will be wonderin' about the pussy stains all over the fabric. maybe if i'm lucky i'll get some of your wetness in my beard. let 'em smell you on me." and well, that excited you deeply.

you arched your back a little bit, but price kept you pinned perfectly under him. you tightened your thighs around him and he continued to work your body. it wasn't rough sex, but it also wasn't boringly soft either. he worked you at a steady pace, like a man with immense stamina. he eyed the bounce of your breasts and he moved against you.

he licked his lips at the sight of you, "baby girl." he purred, "you're a dirty girl. but don't worry." he soon held onto your wrists instead of your hands, a further act of domination, "i like 'em dirty. i like girls i can sink my teeth into. soon enough you won't be able to cum unless it's my fingers, tongue or cock in you. ya got the kind of soft skin that would bruise perfectly. but be careful, petal, i can be quite mean with a paddle." and it was met with a heavy moan. music to his ears.

you had never been spoken to like this before, but it excited you. you wanted to be price's dirty girl any day of the week. you felt excitement cross over you as he picked up the pace. the two of you fucked heavily and it left a taste of want in your mouth. this was better than anything you hoped for. it wasn't just that price checked boxes on a superficial level, he knew exactly how to make you squirm and moan. heavy noises came from your mouth as he worked your achy cunt, you felt amazing.

"ya like knowin' that i'm your first. big, scary captain makin' a mess of the sweetest cunt in the world. knowin' in a way, i got ya for life." he licked his lips. he liked that you were pure in that way, call him old fashioned. but knowing that he got to have you first was sort of like getting the first slice of cake at a party. something he wished to sweetly devour. and with you it was with heavy thrusts and filthy words. taint you to his liking.

you whined as you clenched your fists, you tensed up and he loved the feeling. he could almost read your mind with how sweet you felt. he could nearly feel your heartbeat as he fucked you. he loved the sight of you, you looked damn near perfect under him. you said between heavy pants, "please, sir. fuck, please!"

"feel good, petal? like how i take you." he moved against you further and it left him feeling the anticipation for climax. he continued to fuck your sweet body, working every last centimeter of warm skin, "remember, ya gotta ask me to cum."

his movements were overwhelming, his pace left you feeling breathless. and in your first lesson of intimacy, you croaked out, "can i cum, sir? please, i need to cum."

and price could be a giving man. he looked down at you, haze in those blue eyes as he said, "of course, baby girl. cum for me, cum for your captain." and swore under his breath as you beautifully came apart for him. he held onto your wrists tighter and groaned. it paired nicely with your sweet little moans.

"sir! fuck!" you gasped as you clenched around him. you finished and it only prompted him to move faster while you laid in such a blissed out state. no one had made you finish like that, not even your own nimble digits.

but price was just that good.

the bed creaked further and the headboard hit against the beige wall of the bedroom. he fucked you faster and made sure to cram every inch inside of you. with a few more heavy strokes, he finished into of you with a heavy groan. he fucked you through his climax before he slowed to a stop.

he wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply, "beauty, beauty. where has the world been hidin' ya from me." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips. you melted against him and moaned.

when he pulled out, he got up with a creak in his hip to throw out the condom before he was back in bed with you. you were both naked under the covers as price traced your form with his calloused fingers. the roughness on your soft skin made you shiver.

"how about it, lovie." he said in that low, gruff tone of his. his hand grazed across your side and behind, "how about i invite the boys over and their little birdies and we can have a little playdate. introduce you to the group."

you swallowed, "play... date?"

price pulled you closer. he held onto you the way someone would hold a stuffed animal. he smiled at you, "don't worry, petal. no one's gettin' their hands on ya. not while i'm still breathin'." his voice was tinged with a possessiveness. you nodded in response and he added, "besides, i know i'll make the boys nice and jealous with you." he chuckled, "my beautiful baby girl." then kissed you on the lips.

you could only imagine what would happen at a playdate with price's friends and their submissives. it also didn't help that it made you a little excited as well. <3

#bunny writes #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #price smut #john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x you #price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #john price #john price cod #john price call of duty #captain john price smut #john price smut #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fanfic

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mrsfancyferrari · 3 days ago

Text

Want You

Summary: LN4 + "But I don't want them, I want you." 🥧🏈

Song: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 10.8k

You stand in the mirror, pacing back and forth as you fix your hair for the third time. Tonight is one of those nights where the universe feels electrically charged, a perfect blend of thrill and anxiety swirling in your gut.

Layla, your best friend, has just finished getting ready and is practically beaming with excitement beside you.

Her skin glows under the soft lights of your apartment, and her dress hugs her figure perfectly. You can’t help but feel slightly overshadowed by her beauty.

"Do I look okay?" you ask, biting your lip, your eyes darting from her to your reflection.

"Are you kidding? You look amazing!" Layla exclaims, twisting a lock of her hair, her eyes sparkling. "But you really need to get out there more. You’re gorgeous in your own right!”

You chuckle, brushing off her compliment with a wave of your hand. "Yeah, well, even if I am, who's going to notice when you're around? You’re the one who gets all the attention. "

"That's not true! But anyway, tonight we’re supposed to have fun, not talk about that,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Now, remember the plan?”

You nod, though your heart feels heavier with those words. “Right. We’re meeting Lando and the guys at the club. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m some awkward third wheel. He’s popular.”

Layla rolls her eyes playfully. “You say that every time. You two are friends. Besides, I think he likes you more than you think.”

“Whatever you say,” you respond, your mind racing back to the day Lando had randomly entered your life during a charity event you were volunteering for.

He was charming, funny, and incredibly humble for someone so famous. But the thought of anything romantic blossoming between you seemed absurd, especially when Layla was practically the embodiment of what everyone desired.

At the club, the bass vibrates through the floor, and colorful lights dance around the crowd like fireflies in the night. It’s an atmosphere alive with energy, but you feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought of seeing Lando.

You spot him near the bar, a bright smile on his face as he talks to some friends. Dressed casually, Lando is effortlessly cool, like a magnetic pull that draws everyone’s attention.

“There he is!” Layla exclaims, her excitement infectious. You watch her eyes grow wide like a child spotting a shooting star.

“Go! Go talk to him!” you nudge her, unable to keep the urge to play matchmaker at bay.

“No way! I’m not going without my wingwoman,” she whispers urgently, grabbing your wrist.

With a resigned sigh, you stride forward, Layla trailing closely behind. The moment Lando sees you, his face lights up, and he waves enthusiastically.

The way his presence commands attention is almost intoxicating.

“Hey! You made it!” he greets, pulling you in for a quick hug. You can smell his cologne, fresh and invigorating. Suddenly, your shyness mellows into warmth, though a tiny inner voice reminds you that you’re about to play cupid.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply, your demeanor suddenly a mix of confidence and nervous fluttering. “Lando, this is my best friend Layla. You should hang out with her more—she’s awesome!”

Layla’s cheeks flush, and a playful smirk spreads across her face, but you can’t help but feel anxiety gnawing at you.

“Nice to meet you, Layla,” Lando says, his bright green eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only good things, I hope!” Layla giggles, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers as if she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands.

“Yes, definitely,” he chuckles lightly, shooting you a glance that feels a bit mischievous. “I always wanted to meet the friend who keeps you so grounded.”

You fight to keep your composure, trying to bury the layer of jealousy creeping in. “Well, tonight’s all about celebrating. We should hit the dance floor!”

Hours pass with drinks flowing and laughter echoing. You dance, reveling in the rhythm while keeping a watchful, almost possessive gaze on Layla and Lando. They banter, and you notice how easily they connect, the chemistry undeniable.

A part of you feels satisfied, hoping for the sparks to ignite. Yet, another part steals glances at the way Lando laughs—could he truly like her?

“Hey,” you hear a familiar voice call, pulling you from your thoughts. Lando approaches, his brow slightly furrowed. “I was looking for you. Want to join us?”

You swallow, glancing at Layla, who is leaning against her car, her smile bright. “Um, sure. Just one moment.”

He watches you, a look of concern crossing his face. “Everything alright?”

You smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Yeah but you know, Layla really lights up the floor.”

“She does,” he nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “But I think you’re just as fun. It’s nice having both of you here.”

“Nice being here with you.” The words spilled from your mouth before you could bite them back.

Before you nerves could take over, you added, “You know, if you’re interested, Layla would love to get coffee or something. She’s crushing on you.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Lando’s face, followed by an understanding nod. “Yeah, I picked up on that. But honestly?” He paused, searching for your eyes. “I think I’d prefer hanging out with you instead."

Your breath hitched, and you felt a giddy thrill dance in your chest. “Really? You mean that?”

“Definitely,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “You’re fun to talk to, and we have a great vibe. I really like spending time with you.”

“Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that,” you stammered, a mixture of confusion and excitement swirling inside you. “I mean, Layla is great and all, but—”

“Look,” he interrupted gently, his eyes softening. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I’d love to get to know you better. Just you. No Layla.”

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting soft golden rays across the small living room where Lando and you sat. Your head ached, pounding in rhythm with your heartbeat, and the remnants of last night's festivities loomed over you like a heavy cloud.

Lando chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t anything too wild, don’t worry. Just that you really like spending time with me… and that you might like me in a different way.”

Your face burned even hotter, a mix of embarrassment and panic flooding your senses. “Oh my god! Lando, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to… I don’t remember any of that! It’s embarrassing.”

“Hey, don’t stress,” he said, a warm smile crossing his lips. “It’s not like you announced it to the whole party or anything. Just me, your trusted partner in crime. Besides, it's actually kind of sweet.”

His words were laced with a sincerity that calmed the storm brewing inside you, just a little. “You really think so?”

“Definitely,” Lando nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy? It made my night a lot better.”

“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”

“You were not a mess, you were just… liberated,” Lando smirked, leaning back on the couch and folding his arms behind his head. “And honestly, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. In fact, it kind of makes me happy.”

“Ugh, Lando, you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you replied, your voice wavering as you tried to muster a hint of displeasure.

“No, I’m not.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy?”

“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”

“No you weren't.” His face lit up with a smile that was infectious. “First things first, though—let’s get you over that hangover.”

You chuckled softly, grateful for the shift in energy. “Right.”

“Exactly,” Lando said, standing up and moving to the kitchen. “How do you feel about greasy food? Because I believe that’s the primary cure for hangovers.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Always a solid choice. I could go for some toast or maybe even pancakes.”

“I can whip up something interesting,” he called back, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice. “But it might not be traditional breakfast food. I’ve been experimenting a little.”

“Oh boy, this should be good,” you said, following him into the kitchen, the earlier tension still lingering, but now more like a hopeful promise than a cloud of uncertainty.

Lando looked back over his shoulder with that charming grin that made your heart race. “Just trust me. You’ll love it.”

As he rummaged through the cabinets, you felt a flutter of excitement amid the remnants of your embarrassment. Maybe today wasn’t just about curing a hangover. Maybe it was the start of something new—something sweet and just a little bit wild.

The kitchen filled with the aroma of sizzling ingredients, laughter, and casual banter, the gravitational pull of your connection drawing you closer.

And for the first time that morning, as the sunlight spilled in and the soft music played, you felt truly, undeniably alive. . . .

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the McLaren paddock as the roar of engines filled the air. You had arrived earlier than expected, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Lando had invited you specifically to watch him race, and you had decided to bring Layla with you, thinking it might make the day more enjoyable.

But now, as you watched the interactions unfold around you, you began to regret that decision.

“Look at them,” Layla said, nudging your arm and pointing toward the racing cars as they zipped around the track. “Isn’t it incredible? I still can’t believe we’re here!”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to suppress the tension knotting up your stomach.

Lando was on the other side of the paddock, surrounded by his team, engrossed in the pre-race hustle. He looked effortlessly cool in his race suit, flashing that signature smile that made your heart skip, and exchanging laughter with his crew.

You could see the admiration in Layla’s eyes, the way her gaze followed him, almost too fondly.

“Do you think he’ll win today?” Layla asked, her voice bright with enthusiasm. “I mean, he’s been so on form lately. This might be his season!”

“Yeah, I hope so,” you managed, but your heart sank a little at the way she spoke about him, as if Lando was already hers, as if you didn’t even exist in the context of their perfect relationship.

As the anticipation built, Lando finished up with his team and made his way over to you both. With a warm grin, he wrapped you in a tight hug, his comforting scent of fresh cedar and sunlight enveloping you.

“Hey, you made it!” he exclaimed, pulling back to look into your eyes. He waved cheerfully at Layla, who returned the gesture with a beaming smile.

With a playful tap on my shoulder, he kept his attention locked on you. “I bought your favorite snacks in case you get hungry. Just ask anyone in hospitality and they'll give them to you.”

“Oh, Lando, you didn’t have to,” you said, touched by his thoughtfulness.

“I knew you didn’t eat much,” he replied, with a hint of teasing in his tone. “Gotta keep you energized, right? What would the fans say if they saw you fainting in the stands?”

You chuckled, the lightheartedness of his comment managing to ease some of the tension in your chest. “I appreciate it, really. Thanks, Lando.”

“Of course!” He flashed that dazzling smile again, and your heart skipped yet again, wishing it wouldn’t betray you so. “Are you excited for the race?”

“Absolutely,” You said with a grin. “I can’t wait to see you speed past everyone. You’re going to crush it!”

Lando’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. “I’ll do my best. And if all goes to plan, maybe we can celebrate afterward?”

“Definitely!” you replied a little too quickly. “That would be amazing!”

As Lando left to get ready for the race and you walked to the garage, Layla nudged you playfully. “Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?” she said, a teasing smirk on her face.

“How do he… look at me?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

“Like he's helplessly falling in love,” Layla teased, her tone light but with a touch of sincerity.

Your cheeks heated. “Oh, come on. He’s just friendly. You know how he is.”

“Friendly? Girl, he’s practically glowing when he sees you! It’s more than friendly.”

You didn't reply but her words were replayed in your head for most of the day. . . .

The roar of the engines and the excitement of the crowd filled the air as you settled into your seat, your heart racing along with the cars on the track.

You had been eagerly watching Lando drive with impressive precision, your admiration mixed with nerves as he expertly navigated the twists and turns of the circuit.

But as the laps dwindled down, your stomach began to rumble louder than the cars. You leaned over to Layla, who was just as engrossed in the race aside from the occasional glance in your direction.

“I'm going to grab some snacks Lando got for me. Want anything?” you asked, trying to mask your growing hunger with a light-hearted tone.

“No, I’m good! Can’t believe you have personal snacks from the Lando,” Layla teased, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you made your way to the hospitality room, the bright lights and lavish decor a stark contrast to the rawness of the track.

You felt a rush of nostalgia thinking about all the times Lando had surprised you with silly little gestures, like snacking during breaks or rescuing you from long queues at events.

As you entered, the atmosphere abruptly shifted. A tall, undeniably handsome man leaned casually against the bar, a cocky smile on his face that could light up the room.

He had perfectly styled hair and a confidence that was palpable. You instinctively felt your pulse quicken, but not in the way you were used to with Lando.

“Hey there,” he drawled, his voice smooth like velvet as he turned to face you. “What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing all alone?”

You blinked, taken aback. It was the first time someone had openly flirted with you in public, and the realization made your cheeks flush.

“Um, just grabbing some snacks,” you stammered, glancing back toward the snack table. “Not much to see here.”

He moved closer, leaning forward on the bar, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I’d hardly call you ‘not much to see.’ You definitely stand out from the crowd. What’s your name?”

“Uh, it’s…” you hesitated, almost forgetting your own name for a moment. “It’s Y/N. And you are…?”

“Ethan,” he replied, extending a hand with an air of confidence. You hesitated but eventually shook his hand. “So Y/N, do you come to the races often?”

“More often than you’d think,” you answered, forcing a smile.

Your mind kept drifting back to Lando, his curly hair bouncing with every turn, his infectious laugh, his enthusiastic spirit. You couldn't help but mentally compare every detail of Ethan to Lando, a habit you couldn’t shake off.

“What do you think of the race so far?” Ethan asked, diverting your thoughts back to the present.

“Oh, it’s exhilarating! Lando’s doing really well,” you replied, your voice faltering slightly as you mentioned his name. “He’s a great driver.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Lando? The Lando?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for a bit. He’s… well, great,” you added sheepishly, not wanting to divulge too much about your friendship.

“Sounds like you’re a bit smitten,” Ethan teased, his eyes sparkling with playful banter.

You cut him a look, a blush creeping up your neck. “No! It’s not like that. We’re just friends!” The resolve in your voice felt weak against the wistfulness laced in your words.

Would Ethan ever understand the depth of what Lando meant to you?

The race continued, and Ethan shifted his attention from the track to you. “While I might not have curly hair or that… infectious laugh, I can still try to impress you,” he said with a smirk.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I can’t deny you’re charming, Ethan. But the thing about Lando—”

“Is that he’s Lando,” Ethan interrupted, his voice low as though the name itself held some power. “I get it. You’ve got this history that I can’t compete with.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair. The gesture seemed so reminiscent of Lando, yet distinctly different.

You couldn’t shake off how much every flick of Ethan’s hair and every smile he flashed felt in stark contrast to Lando’s bouncy curls and radiant grin. He smiled, sure, but it felt like a shadow of something brighter.

Just then, a staff member waved at Ethan from the other side of the grandstand, beckoning him over for photographs. “I’ll be right back!” he said, throwing you one last flirtatious grin before he slipped away.

You decided to take the chance to get back to your seat, curious as to why the cheers around the paddock were getting louder.

“Did you get your snacks?” Layla asked, her eyes still glued to the screen where the race was unfolding.

“Yeah,” you replied absentmindedly, still feeling the flutter of excitement from Ethan's attention. As you focused on the race, your thoughts danced back to him intermittently.

The atmosphere was electric; Lando was still in the lead for qualifying, much to the delight of the crowd, and your heart raced not just from the race—but from the momentary thrill of flirtation.

“Come on, come on, Lando!” Layla shouted, her enthusiasm infectious. You mirrored her excitement, your eyes following the sleek McLaren as it whizzed around the track.

When Lando crossed the finish line, securing pole position, the roar from the team was deafening. Everyone in McLaren was ecstatic, their cheers echoing the adrenaline that surged through the air.

"Yes, Lando," you said, smiling as the cameras captured the jubilant scene.

With Lando’s triumph, you watched as the team swarmed to congratulate him. You couldn't help but chuckle at his signature grin, the way he seemed to glow with the thrill of victory.

But as you looked closer, you realized that despite the chaos around him, Lando’s gaze was searching the crowd.

“Do you think he’ll spot us?” Layla asked, her eyes narrowing, trying to catch a glimpse through the throng of people.

“I doubt it. I mean, look at him! He’s the star of the show right now,” you replied, attempting to downplay the hope that fluttered in your stomach.

Still, your thoughts were interrupted as Layla suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd.

“C'mon! We need to get a closer look!” she shouted over the noise. Your heart raced for a different reason now, excitement growing as you maneuvered through the ocean of fans, team members, and media.

You just managed to catch a glimpse of Lando standing on his car, fist raised triumphantly in the air. “Look at him! He’s on top of the world!” you exclaimed, your voice barely audible over the cheers.

“I know! He’s incredible!” Layla responded, beaming at Lando’s joyous display.

Amidst the clamor and celebrations, you decided to yell out, “Lando, over here!” hoping he might hear you.

To your surprise, he turned in your direction, a radiant smile breaking across his face. He scanned the crowd, and for a heartbeat, your eyes locked. His smile grew broader, and you felt warmth flood your cheeks.

Then, without a thought for the crowd around you, you made your way over to him. You squeezed through a chaotic throng of jubilant fans, the buzz of celebration swirling around you, until you reached the area near the barriers.

There he was, laughing and exchanging high-fives with the team. You couldn't help but grin as you approached.

“Lando!” you shouted over the noise, arms open wide.

He spotted you immediately, and a look of pure joy washed over his face. With almost immediate instinct, he lunged toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.

The strength of his excitement was palpable, and you squeezed him back, your heart racing.

He chuckled as he lifted you slightly off the ground. “I did it! I can't believe it!” he cried, setting you back down gently. “Did you see that last lap?”

“Are you kidding? It was amazing! You were so fast!” you exclaimed, your voice rising above the cacophony.

As he pulled back, he looked down at you with his bright eyes sparkling in the fading light. “I couldn’t have done it without all your support. You were here every step of the way.”

“You’ve worked so hard, Lando. You deserve this,” you said, your gaze drifting for a moment as you felt the warmth of his presence envelop you.

But then, staring at him with the backdrop of the ecstatic crowd, your heart felt odd. Being so close to him, you suddenly found yourself stammering. “I—uh, I mean… you really did great.”

Lando tilted his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You alright?” He took a small step closer, his arm still around your waist, making you acutely aware of the physical closeness between you, which felt both comfortable and electric.

“Uh, yeah, totally fine,” you replied quickly, but your voice was barely above a whisper. You caught a brief glimpse of Lando's gaze flitting to your lips, and it sent a jolt of connection rushing through you.

“I just… I mean…” You struggled to finish your thought, the reality of your best friend stepping into the limelight making you feel both thrilled and ridiculously nervous.

“Just what?” he teased gently, his smile unwavering but those eyes—oh, those eyes were searching, digging deeper.

“Just… I didn’t think you’d get pole position! I mean, I thought maybe, like, third or fourth?” You laughed nervously, but his gaze didn’t waver.

“Hey, you should always believe in me!” Lando said, but there was a soft intensity behind his words that made your heart race all the more. “If I can get here today, then you have to promise you’ll always believe in me, no matter what.”

You paused, looking earnestly into his bright eyes, biting your lip. “I promise. But you’ve gotta promise me too; no matter how famous you get or how many trophies you win, you won’t forget about me, okay?”

“Never,” he said softly, but the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. He lowered his voice, his teasing demeanor fading slightly.

“You’ve been my constant through all of this, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Lando’s words lingered palpably in the air between you. You felt like the entire world had faded away, the crowd’s roars dimming into background noise. “I just… I could never replace what we have.”

“Exactly,” he said, moving a fraction closer, eliciting butterflies to flutter chaotic within your stomach. “Remember that time you thought I’d mess up in Monaco, and then I didn’t? I was convinced I could do it because you believed in me.”

You laughed, flushing at the memory. “Yeah, and you laughed at me for just being realistic.”

“Realistic is boring! You should know that by now. In racing, and in life, you gotta dream big,” he said, voice lightening as humor returned to the moment.

Just as you were about to respond, Zac approached. “Hey! Lando! Congrats, mate!”

He clapped Lando on the back, breaking the synergy you had created. “That was an incredible race! You crushed it!”

Lando’s hand left your waist as he turned to engage with Zac, his infectious excitement pulling him into the conversation. “Thanks, man! I can’t believe it! I was so nervous the entire time!”

You stepped back slightly, allowing the two of them to revel in the adrenaline of the moment. Lando beamed, his eyes sparkling as he spoke animatedly with Zac about the race strategy.

You watched as he made his way to get weighed and interviewed, your heart fluttering with a mix of pride and something else you weren’t quite ready to admit.

“Really, though, I don’t understand why you’re still on the fence about it,” Layla said, stepping beside you as you discreetly observed Lando.

Her voice was laced with curiosity as she nudged your shoulder. “He’s been so into you these past few weeks. Did you see how he looked at you when he saw you?”

You sighed, leaning back against the wall, your gaze still fixed on Lando. “Yeah, well, I saw that. But just because he looks at me a certain way doesn’t mean he likes me. He’s excited about the race, Layla. I’m just… there.”

“You’re not just ‘there.’ You’re practically glowing in his vicinity. It’s like he only sees you when he talks!” Layla insisted, her tone shifting to teasing. “You could light up an entire stadium with the way he smiles at you.”

“Okay, maybe he enjoys spending time with me,” you conceded, your cheeks warming at the thought. “But that doesn't exactly scream ‘I like you.’”

“Maybe not,” she replied, tilting her head as she watched Lando waving at fans and signing autographs, “but you’ve got to admit, there’s something more. I mean, look at him! The energy is off the charts!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the conversation light. “You know how he is. He’s a charismatic guy. He’s like that with everyone.”

“Maybe. But wouldn’t it be amazing if he was like that with just you?” Layla’s voice softened, and she nudged you again. “Take the leap! Ask him how he feels—it doesn’t have to be a grand declaration.”

The sun was beginning to set over the racing circuit, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky as Lando settled himself into a high-backed chair in the paddock lounge.

It had been a day filled with adrenaline, the thrill of achieving pole position lighting up his thoughts.

The victory celebrations had been electrifying, but they were quickly overshadowed by a single purpose that surged through him like fuel to an engine—he wanted to see you again.

After the debrief, he had scanned the crowd, searching for you, his excitement building with each passing second. He had been talking about trying a new restaurant in town, and he couldn’t wait to explore it with you.

But the moment he stepped into the bustling lounge, he spotted you, and his heart sank just a little.

You were laughing.

Not just a polite chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh that lit up your face. You were engaged in conversation with Ethan Smith, the American actor who had been brought in as a special guest to support the race.

Lando could see the chemistry between you two—it was glaringly evident in the way Ethan leaned in slightly, his playful jokes coaxing out laughter and smiles that made your eyes sparkle.

“Hey, you look like you’re going to kill Ethan,” Layla, your best friend, teased as she sidled up to Lando, noticing the tense atmosphere that had suddenly enveloped him.

“Who?” Lando asked, tearing his gaze from you for just a moment.

“Ethan Smith? One of the most famous actors in the US? You don’t know him?” Layla's voice was filled with disbelief.

“Nope, and I don’t like him either,” Lando grumbled, eyes narrowing as he watched Ethan wink at you.

You giggled, and Lando felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest. He stood up properly, unable to resist the pull any longer.

As he stormed over, Layla rolled her eyes, giggling softly in amusement. “Good luck, hero.”

Lando approached, trying to keep his expression neutral even while he could feel a competitive spark igniting within him.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” he said, forcing a smile as he sidled up next to you, “but I thought we were going to check out that new place together.”

You turned to him, your smile blossoming even wider. “Lando! You were amazing out there today! I still can’t believe you got pole position!”

“Thanks! It was a good day, but I’ve got even better plans,” he added, shooting Ethan a pointed look. “I’m taking you out for dinner remember.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered and amused by Lando's sudden intrusion. “Oh, is that so? Looks like you’ve got some competition, Norris.”

Lando’s jaw twitched slightly. “I don’t see any competition, honestly. You’re just a—”

“Just a what?” Ethan interrupted with a smirk, leaning back casually. “Just a huge star who happens to be having a lovely conversation with someone he finds incredibly charming?”

You giggled again, a sound that made Lando’s irritation simmer down just a fraction. “You guys, come on. I’m just trying to enjoy the evening here.”

“Exactly,” said Ethan, flashing you a disarming smile. “And you deserve it! Besides, I was just giving her some advice on how to handle the media.”

“Media?” Lando questioned, crossing his arms. “I didn’t realize you were running a media workshop.”

Ethan shrugged, unbothered. “Hey, just sharing the wisdom I’ve gained. It can be tough, huh? Like staying out of the limelight while everyone’s watching you, waiting for you to slip up.” He shot a harmless smile, but Lando felt the jabs in his stomach.

You frowned, sensing the tension. “You guys, let’s not make this into a competition. Lando, you were the one who wanted to go out tonight.”

Lando looked at you, and then back at Ethan. “Right,” he said, softening his tone as he fixed his eyes solely on you. “I just wanted to celebrate with you a little, that’s all.”

Ethan grinned, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Looks like you’ve claimed your prize, my friend. I was just enjoying the company. I’ll step back.”

Lando glanced at Ethan with a nod, appreciating the concession, but still feeling a little victorious as he turned back to you. “So, are you ready to go eat? That new place is supposed to be amazing.”

You looked back to Ethan, and then nodded, a sweet smile curling on your lips. “Yeah, I’m ready. Sorry for taking up your time, Ethan.”

Ethan waved it off with a playful wink. “No problem! Have fun out there, you two. Just remember, she was laughing with me first!”

As you and Lando began to walk away, he turned back to you with a raised eyebrow. “You know, just for the record, I think he was flirting with you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh please, he’s just a friendly guy! Besides, I already have someone I’m interested in.”

“Good,” Lando muttered, feeling a rush of relief and warmth flooding his chest. “Just making sure.”

He smiled down at you, his heart feeling a little lighter now. “Let’s go enjoy our dinner and make some headlines of our own, huh?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said, linking your arm through his as you both made your way out, leaving the tension behind you.

Lando couldn’t help but smile at the thought of spending the evening with you, feeling that maybe the only competition that truly mattered was the one he could embrace.

The evening air was cooler than expected, igniting a small thrill of anticipation as you stepped out of the car. You looked up at the restaurant’s glowing sign, your heart fluttering a little.

This place was newly opened, a fusion of modern and vintage charm, and you were eager to see if it lived up to its reputation.

As you adjusted your jacket, you glanced at Lando, who was standing beside you with an easy grin, his eyes sparkling like the city lights around you. Ever since he came into your life, each moment felt a little more vibrant, a little more alive.

“Have you seen the menu?” you asked, looking up at him, excitement bubbling in your voice.

He nodded, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “I did, and I can tell you right now, I’m going for that pumpkin risotto. It sounds incredible.”

You laughed. “Pumpkin risotto? It seems a bit heavy for someone who just came off a race, doesn’t it?”

“Hey, I need my carbs!” he retorted playfully, nudging your shoulder with his. “Especially after that race last week. I burned more calories than I could count, you know.”

“Fine, but I’m holding you to it. If you fall asleep in the middle of dinner, we might have a problem,” you teased back, stepping inside the restaurant.

The atmosphere enveloped you like a warm embrace—soft lighting, a hint of herbs wafting from the kitchen, and laughter echoing from nearby tables. You felt a buzz of excitement in your veins as you and Lando were led to a cozy corner table.

“So, what are you going to have?” he asked, picking up the menu and scanning it with genuine interest.

You shrugged, pretending to gauge the choices with utmost seriousness. “I think I’ll try the seafood linguine. It’s been ages since I’ve had good pasta.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You know, I love when you get excited about food. It’s one of those little things that makes you… well, you.”

A warm blush crept onto your cheeks. “I didn’t realize you were so observant, Mr. Norris.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I notice the important things. Like how you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking, or how your eyes light up when you talk about your favorite books.”

“Okay, now you’re just getting mushy.” Your voice barely hid your embarrassment, but the fluttering in your chest was unmistakable.

You loved how easily he could make you smile.

Their server arrived, and you both ordered. As you waited, the conversation flowed easily, moving from playful banter about Lando’s racing experiences to sharing your dream travel destinations.

“I really want to visit Japan,” you said, your eyes dancing with the thought. “The culture, the food, the cherry blossoms… it seems magical.”

Lando leaned back, an amused smile plastered on his face. “You’re a romantic at heart, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, biting your lip. “What about you? Where would you go if you had the chance?”

He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Probably somewhere quiet. Racing is intense, so I think I’d like a peaceful beach. Just to sit, reflect, and maybe learn to surf.”

“Surfing, huh?” You quirked an eyebrow. “You? I can already picture you wiping out spectacularly.”

“Oh, I’d definitely faceplant! But I’d get back up,” he said, his laughter infectious. “Just like on the track. That’s what makes it all fun, right?”

Before you could respond, your food arrived, and the divine aroma filled the air. You both dove into the dishes eagerly, enjoying the burst of flavors that danced on your tongues.

“This is amazing!” you exclaimed, savoring a mouthful of your linguine. “You have to try this.”

Lando took a bite of your pasta and nodded approvingly. “Wow, that’s really good! But I’ll stick to my risotto for now.”

As dinner continued, the conversation turned more personal. Lando shared stories of his childhood, his dreams, and the pressures of being in the limelight, while you opened up about your own aspirations and the challenges you faced.

“Sometimes, it’s overwhelming,” he confessed, a hint of vulnerability lacing his words. “I mean, I love racing, but it can feel like everyone’s expectations are just weighing down on you.”

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his. “But you’re doing something incredible, Lando. You’re following your passion and inspiring people along the way. Just don’t lose sight of what matters.”

His gaze locked onto yours, lips curving into a smile that reached his eyes. “You always know what to say to make me feel better. I’m lucky to have you around.”

In that moment, you understood something deeper was blossoming between you—a connection that transcended the thrill of racing. It was a shared dream, a mutual understanding, and an undeniable chemistry that lit up the evening.

As the night wore on and the plates were cleared, you felt a mix of contentment and longing. The restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversations, but in your little corner, it was just you and Lando, caught in your own world.

“Next time, we should pick somewhere even more adventurous,” he suggested, a playful gleam in his eyes.

You leaned back, thinking of the possibilities. “That sounds perfect. Let’s make it a tradition.”

Lando grinned, and in that moment, you knew this was just the beginning of something beautiful. You just hope that your feelings won't get in the way. . . .

Layla’s coughs echoed through the empty hall as she wrapped herself tighter in a soft blanket on the couch, trying to drown out the sound of the outside world.

It felt bitterly unfair that her body had rebelled against her just when she’d been looking forward to watching the race with you.

“Hey, Layla,” you called from the kitchen, where you were prepping a few snacks. “I’m heading out now. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

She turned her head slightly, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed. “No, really, you should go. I’d just be a downer. Besides, I’d hate to get Lando sick. He’s got that race this weekend!”

“True, but…” you hesitated, feeling the weight of the unspoken words. “I mean, it would have been nice if we could all hang out together. I was kind of hoping you'd be there.”

Layla's smile was faint but brightened her pallid complexion. “I think you’re hoping for more than just ‘hanging out.’ You like him, don’t you?”

You sighed. “Maybe? I mean, after last night’s dinner… I just can’t tell if it was all in my head.”

A soft laugh escaped her lips, quickly followed by a cough. “You actually thought he was, what? Just being polite? You guys were practically flirting all night.”

“Flirting? Really?” You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I thought he was just being friendly. Charming, even. He’s always like that.”

“Yeah, but that look he gave you? Come on! It was like, 'how do I impress you?’ and 'you’re amazing’ wrapped in one.” She coughed again, and you felt guilt worming its way into your chest.

“Maybe he was just being a nice guy. Or he was bored...” you trailed off, unsure.

“Or maybe he’s into you, and you just don’t want to see it,” she countered, her voice softening. “You should go talk to him. Tonight could be your chance!”

You ran a hand through your hair, pondering Layla's words. What if? What if that spark you felt between you was mutual?

You took a deep breath as you nodded. “Okay. I’m going. Just to check in on him.”

“Good! Now go knock his socks off!” Layla replied, her enthusiasm cutting through her congestion. As you waved goodbye, a quiet mix of excitement and apprehension simmered in your stomach.

You arrived at the paddock, the unmistakable hum of excitement buzzing in the air. The energy of fans waving flags and donning their favorite team colors could be felt all around; it was palpable and infectious.

You took a moment to soak it all in, engaging with the fans milling about, sharing smiles and snapshots that captured the thrill of race day.

But amidst the joviality, you couldn't shake off the knot in your stomach. Lando had been acting differently lately, receiving an outpouring of negative comments and disproportionate criticism on social media.

It made your heart ache to see someone so talented being torn down and misunderstood, especially when he had always been so kind and considerate.

Today was supposed to be about racing, but you had a growing worry that Lando might not be able to shake off the weight that was pressing down on him.

Once you greeted the last group of fans, you made your way through the paddock with purpose. The noise faded slightly as you approached Lando's garage—his sanctuary, where he would armor up for the battles on the track.

The energy there was different; it was practically electric, the team buzzing around, making final adjustments to the car and going over the last-minute strategies.

Still, your focus was solely on Lando.

You searched for him in every nook and cranny, peeking into the bustling pit area and checking around the hospitality suites. But a feeling of dread began to take root when you couldn’t find him.

“Maybe he’s in his driver’s room,” you murmured to yourself, trying to push down the worry that lingered like a shadow.

At the door, you hesitated, your heart racing. You knocked once, then twice, listening for the sound of his voice.

When no response came, you slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open, half-expecting him to be absorbed in some last-minute race preparation. Instead, the scene that greeted you was far from it.

Lando was curled up on the small, worn sofa, hands wrapped around his knees. He jumped slightly at the sight of you, his eyes wide, a mix of surprise and vulnerability.

“Oh Y/N, I didn’t hear you come in,” he said, forcing on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You frowned at the sight of him, the dim light casting shadows across his face, revealing red-rimmed eyes. Your heart sank. “Lando… what’s wrong?”

You lowered yourself onto the sofa next to him, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to ease your concern.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he replied too quickly, the practiced lightness in his voice clashing with the heaviness in the room.

You could see the slight tremor in his hands, and your worry deepened. You reached out, tentatively placing a hand on his knee.

“You’re not fine,” you said softly, searching his face for the usual spark you loved. “I can see it. Talk to me?”

He looked away, glancing out the window at the racetrack where the cars were roaring around the circuit.

You followed his gaze but quickly turned back to him, determined to break through the wall he had put up. “Does it have to do with the race? Is it the pressure?”

Lando shook his head, something between sad and grateful passing over his features. “It’s not that. Just… a lot on my mind, you know?” His words were heavy, like anchors sinking in deep water.

“That’s okay,” you said, shifting closer to him. “I’m here. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

He chuckled softly, though there was no humor behind it. “You’re always here, Y/N. That’s what I like about you. You make it easier.”

“Then let me help you,” you insisted gently, nudging him with your elbow while you tried to coax out a more genuine response.

“Can I get a hug?” you asked, knowing that physical closeness might be the best way to pull Lando out of the shell he’d crawled into.

He hesitated, eyes darting around the room like a deer caught in headlights. Then, hesitantly, he leaned into you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

The warmth of his body was comforting, but as he buried his face against the curve of your neck, you felt the tell-tale signs of him holding back. You hugged him tighter, hoping he could feel the strength of your support.

“Let it out,” you whispered, holding him as he exhaled deeply, searching for words that seemed stuck in his throat. “Please.”

You rubbed his back in soothing circles, the silent rhythm cocooning you both in a bubble of softness. You didn't care if you were basically sitting on his lap; all you cared about was Lando.

“It's just... a lot,” he murmured finally, his voice muffled against you. “The media, the fans—they're relentless. I don’t think I can do it today.”

“Shhh…” you soothed, leaning back slightly to bring his gaze toward you. His big, dark eyes looked lost, a storm brewing behind them. “You’re stronger than they think. You love racing, remember? You belong out there.”

He looked away, swallowing hard. You could see the emotions swirling within him, battling between fear and desire, doubt and determination. “But what if I mess up again? What if…”

“Lando,” you interrupted gently. “What if you do great? You can’t let fear write your story for you. You have to give yourself a chance.”

His fingers found your waist as he held you closer, the intensity in his grip conveying everything words could not. “I just don’t want to let anyone down,” he confessed finally, his breath warm against your ear.

“You won’t,” you assured him, your heart racing with the intimacy of the moment. “Not with me by your side. You have me, Lando; I believe in you.”

With every squeezed breath, the hug felt too tight, arms closing around you, squeezing you, pressing together, inch by inch. You could feel his hesitance melting into something else, something deeper, something that felt like your very own electricity.

Lando was the unpredictable force that set your heart aflame. Those arms wrapped tightly around you felt intoxicating, like a drug that sent your pulse racing when the rest of the world faded away.

His phone buzzed, jolting you both back to the reality of the upcoming race.

“It’s Oscar,” he muttered, annoyance tugging at his features. “I don’t want to go; I can’t face the pit or the cameras.”

You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze fully. “Well, I can’t do this for you, but I can be right there with you. You need to let them see how you feel. It’s okay to show vulnerability, Lando.”

He took a deep breath, and you could see the gears in his mind turning. “What if it’s not enough?” he muttered, but the fire in his voice was finally wavering.

“Enough for who?” you pressed. “You don’t have to perform for them. Just do your race, and I’ll be right there cheering for you.”

“Really?” He looked at you, the hope flickering in his gaze almost enough to make you lean in and kiss him.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You grinned, feeling the air shift between you, filled with the promise of something more.

Suddenly, Oscar’s voice boomed from the other side of the door, urgent and loud. “Lando, it’s time for the race!”

Lando groaned, clearly annoyed at being forced back into reality. “I guess I can’t hide in here forever, huh?”

“Nope. Now come on, let’s get you out there and show them what you’re made of.” You smiled, standing abruptly and holding out your hand to him.

He hesitated for a heartbeat before taking it, and you felt that warm pull between you. The brief moment of intimacy melded into something more solid as he clasped your fingers. He rose to his feet, tilting his head slightly to find your gaze once again.

“Thanks,” he said softly, his voice clear and stronger now. “For everything. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably get a lot more nervous,” you teased lightly, nudging him playfully. “But seriously, let’s go. You’ve got a race to win.”

As Lando Norris crossed the finish line for the fourth time that season, the entire track erupted in a symphony of cheers and celebrations.

You could barely contain your excitement, adrenaline surging through you as you pulled off your headphones, the sounds of the race still echoing in your mind.

All that mattered was Lando—your brilliant, talented Lando.

You joined the staff, a vibrant mix of engineers, mechanics, and strategists, who were all equally charged up. The atmosphere was electric, the air thick with the scent of burnt rubber and victory champagne.

You barely noticed the chaos unfolding around you as everyone rallied around the pit area. The crew, those unwavering supporters who had helped you get closer to Lando before, ushered you closer, their enthusiasm infectious.

“Come on! Right this way!” one of the crew members shouted over the noise, grabbing your hand and leading you through the throng.

You felt your heart race as the crowd’s energy swirled around you, anticipation making you giddy.

“Lando! Lando! Over here!” you shouted, waving your arms above your head like a lunatic.

A couple of crew members pointed in your direction, assisting the chaotic dance of the crowd.

And then it happened. His eyes met yours—green and bright like emeralds sparkling in sunlight. Time seemed to slow as he brightened at the sight, a genuine smile breaking across his face.

Without hesitation, he tore away from the crowd, sprinting toward you. The world blurred around you, the cheers fading until nothing mattered but the two of you.

When he reached you, it was like everything else faded away. He enveloped you in the biggest hug, his head tucked tightly against your neck.

Warmth washed over you, and you couldn’t help but laugh with pure joy.

“You did it! I knew you could!” you shouted, the excitement lacing your words as your arms wrapped around his neck.

His grip tightened as he pulled back to look into your eyes, the sexual tension thick between you. Lando's gaze lingered on your lips momentarily, and something about the way he held his gaze left your heart racing.

“I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on,” he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re my good luck charm.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” you teased playfully. “You’ve got the talent, but I like to think I add a bit of magic.”

Lando chuckled, a sound like music that echoed around you, making your heart flutter. “Well, keep that magic close then, okay?”

Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, just a breath away from your lips. Your breath hitched as the world fell away again, your cheeks flushed with warmth and perhaps a bit more than embarrassment.

“I—I should let you go celebrate with everyone,” you said, almost feeling shy as you took a step back, the rest of the team rallying around him with congratulations.

“Hey,” he said softly, his gaze never wavering as he reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “You’re coming with me, right? We have to celebrate together after!”

You blinked, surprised. “Really? Don't you want to celebrate with only your team?”

“I want to celebrate with you too!” He smiled, an infectious grin that made your heart skip a beat. “We’ll carve out our own little celebration. Just us after.”

Your heart soared. You nodded eagerly. “Okay!”

After the podium celebrations ended, the crowd dispersed, and the atmosphere filled with the crackling excitement of victory turned to an afterglow.

Lando Norris, with his signature grin and a trophy held high, had basked in the limelight, soaking up the roaring applause of the fans.

But that was only a moment for him; now, he was dragged away to the media center, leaving you standing at the edge of the pit lane, heart fluttering with the kiss he had planted on your cheek moments before.

You leaned against the pit wall, watching as he disappeared behind a barrage of cameras and reporters.

The warmth of his fleeting affection lingered on your skin, and a smile crept across your face despite the noise around you.

“Thinking about him, I see,” a voice interrupted your thoughts. You jumped slightly, caught off guard as you turned to see Ethan approaching.

He wore a knowing smirk, one that made your stomach twist of embarrassment.

“Oh, hi Ethan, what are you talking about?” You feigned nonchalance, crossing your arms.

“Lando, I’m talking about Lando,” Ethan replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Look, it’s clear you’ve got this enormous crush on him, but let’s not kid ourselves. He doesn’t like you like that. He’s just being friendly.”

Your heartbeat quickened for a different reason now—a mix of frustration and hurt. “What do you mean he doesn’t like me? He just won a race, and he kissed me, it was sweet.” You tried to sound more confident than you felt.

“Sweet?” Ethan scoffed. “That was just a celebratory peck. You know how he is with his fans. He flirts with everyone. It doesn’t mean he has a thing for you.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing back against his doubt. “But it felt different. The way he looked at me before he left… Ethan, we’ve talked, we’ve laughed.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Look, you’re a great person, and I get that you want to believe he’s into you. But do you really think he’s capable of liking someone with all of this fame and pressure around him? He’s got a busy life, and girlfriends are just more trouble in that world.”

The frustration bubbled in your chest. “You sound like my mom,” you shot back, unable to hide the sharpness in your tone. “You don’t even know him like I do.”

“Fair enough,” Ethan said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But you’ve got to admit, you’re setting yourself up for a huge disappointment here. Just... don’t get your hopes too high. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

His exasperation was genuine, but it only deepened your resolve. “And I wouldn’t want to live my life scared to try because of what ‘might’ happen.”

Ethan sighed. “Okay, I’m not trying to ruin your fantasy. I just want you to be realistic.”

“Realistic or pessimistic?” you countered.

He laughed softly, the tension in the air easing just a bit. “Alright, let’s call it realistic, then.”

“Lando doesn’t like you that way,” Ethan had said, concern etched on his features.

Those words replayed in your head like a broken record, setting a tight knot in your stomach every time you thought of the charming driver.

Just as you attempted to shake off the lingering doubt, a staff member materialized out of thin air, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “Lando wants to see you now.”

“Thanks!” you called out, excusing yourself from Ethan’s company.

You felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you navigated through the hubbub of the garage, pushing aside doubts that had lingered since your morning conversation with Ethan.

Finally standing before Lando’s driver’s room, you raised your hand and knocked gently. “Come in,” his voice called out, warm and inviting.

You opened the door to find Lando leaning against the wall, a genuine smile lighting his face, so different from the frown of earlier that day. “Hi, champ!” you greeted him, a spark of joy igniting within you.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, standing upright as he approached you. “I’m really glad you’re here.” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and you could feel an electric tension crackling in the air between you.

You both settled into a rhythm of lighthearted conversation, laughing and reminiscing about the week’s events, but underneath every playful jab and shared joke, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the chemistry that simmered between you.

Lando’s gaze felt heavy on you, filled with unexpressed words that lingered just beyond reach.

The air crackles with an unspoken tension as you stare into Lando's eyes, a mix of confusion and yearning coursing through every nerve in your body.

You can feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you, a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach as you try to decipher the myriad emotions swirling between you.

“So,” Lando began, his voice almost a whisper, eyes glistening with something serious, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

His voice quivers with uncertainty, the weight of his unexpressed feelings hanging heavily in the atmosphere, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your mind raced back to Ethan’s words: “Lando doesn’t like you, Y/N. He’s just playing around.” You shook your head slightly. You wouldn’t let yourself believe that.

You couldn’t allow the confusion between friendship and something more to blur in your mind; it was too painful.

He said, his tone firm yet tender. “I like you, Y/N.”

“You don’t, you can’t,” you protest meekly, recalling the stinging words Ethan had casually tossed your way, words that left a lingering ache in your chest.

The notion that Lando might not harbor genuine feelings for you feels like a betrayal, an unwelcome specter haunting the edges of this beautiful moment.

“Y/N—” His voice was earnest, but you shook your head, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay.

“Please don’t joke about that. If you don’t like me—if you’re just messing around—then don’t joke about it.” Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the bubble of hope forming in your chest.

“Why do you think I’m saying this?” he asked, his voice low and laced with emotion. “Why would I bother if I didn’t mean it? This isn’t just some casual fling for me. I care about you, and it’s driving me insane keeping it all bottled up!”

You took a step back, your back hitting the closed door. “Lando, please, you can’t say that!” Tears began to stream down your cheeks unbidden.

“Why not?” he challenged softly, moving closer again, his gaze intense. “Why can’t I? Are you really going to deny what’s been between us? You feel it too right?”

The truth in his words shattered your defenses. “Lando, I—” Your voice broke, and the words tumbled out, heavier than you imagined.

“I’ve never been someone’s first choice before. It’s hard to believe that you actually want me.”

“Then believe me,” he urged, his hand gently cupping your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

Lando’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he whispered, “You deserve to hear it, and I mean every word.”

You melted into him, your head resting against his chest while he held you tightly—firmly yet gently, a safe haven amidst your unraveling emotions.

He didn’t flinch as the tears soaked his shirt.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, sniffling against his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose this.”

“You won’t lose me. Not ever,” he promised, pulling back slightly so he could look into your eyes. “Just give us a chance. I won’t hurt you.”

After a long while, you managed to calm down, your heart still racing but your breaths a little steadier. Lando pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes; the concern etched on his face warmed you.

“Can I kiss you?” Lando asked, his voice laced with just a hint of uncertainty, as if he feared this moment would evaporate into thin air.

Time seemed to stand still as you considered his question. You could feel the heat radiating between you, a magnetic pull that drew you closer.

This was the moment you had both been dancing around, the very reason for the tension that crackled in the air.

You felt a flutter in your stomach at the question, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. “Yes,” you finally breathed out, the single word filled with yearning.

His eyes sparkled, and he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t; if anything, your heart raced as he brushed his lips against yours, soft and hesitant at first.

His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes of the feelings you both had kept hidden for too long. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in a warm embrace, filled with the promise of love and acceptance.

As the kiss deepened, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. It was as if everything you had fought against—the doubt, the fear—melted away, replaced with the certainty of Lando’s affection.

You knew, right then and there, that you had finally found someone who would stay, who truly wanted you for who you were.

When the kiss finally broke, you rested your forehead against his, your hearts still racing from the intensity of it all. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you murmured.

“Don’t be,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I finally got to you.”

And in that moment, surrounded by a haze of newfound love and vulnerability, you both knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.

Something that you both deserved. . . . .

444 notes · View notes

vampireistic · 3 days ago

Text

failed replaced!MC AU

ཐི synopsis: diavolo has sent down a brand new human exchange student! one that, unfortunately, seems to be very keen on stealing all the limelight for themselves…with such pathetic results it’s almost endearing.

ཐི feat. demon bros

ཐི warnings: mentions of blood/injury, second person

ཐི a/n: yanked this idea from @squeakyducky ! ٩( ᐛ )و named the human exchange student “notus” after the greek god of the south wind because in the comic the MC is called “zephyr” after the god of the west wind (not directly in opposition of one another in mythology but i through it would be fitting). + also this is kinda long…(;_;)

You weren’t upset about having a new human exchange student, no-one really was, but just the gut feeling that Diavolo was going to throw you in as their guide was really starting to irk you (having to deal with several argumentative debate-lords thirsty for your attention doesn’t give you much energy to deal with newbies).

Who knew though? Maybe this was exactly what you needed; a break from all the fantasy in the world for a touch of realism. A touch of home.

However, soon as that portal twinkled to reveal a rather attractive human figure bursting with confidence, your latent arcane abilities smelled trouble. But then again, you were rarely right about first glance opinions on people, maybe this was just another instance?

Ok, well, when you tried going up to introduce yourself you were met with a glare so maybe you weren’t so wrong after all. Benefit of the doubt, you repeat to yourself. You remember being particularly snappy to people within your first arrival - it’s natural instinct! I mean the brother’s also threatened to eat you on the first day here, perhaps they’re just naturally standoffish.

“This is Notus, our newest human exchange student! Please be sure to give them a warm welcome.” Diavolo’s voice boomed across the council hall, eyes gleaming with excitement. Like the first time, the brothers introduce themselves one by one, each a little more on edge than the last - maybe they felt that weird energy too?

Whatever, you pushed those thoughts aside for the time being and took on the role as the newest babysitter for a human that seemed to have a much unnecessary distance while walking next to you.

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It started off fine:

Occasional misplacement of your items; an untied shoelace that makes you trip (with Mammon getting a heart attack as he pulls you up by your wrist); messing up an elixir you were sure that you measured correctly; and opening your bag to find your homework gone.

Childish antics that you tried your best to push blame onto either your own forgetfulness or a misplaced prank that was meant to mess with Lucifer. But somehow, it got so much worse - and that little demonic human decided to finally take fault of their pranks by flaunting it off with pride.

“Oh, MC?” Notus caught your attention with a double tap on your shoulder. “Did you enjoy the nature reserve?” Mammon tilted his head to the side, confusion scrunching his face as he looked over at you.

“It was really lame, Thirteen would’ve done better.” Of course you were not referring to an actual excursion, no, you mean the wild animals that had magically found themselves a snuggly home in your bed as well as the plethora of Devildom-specific deadly mushrooms and herbs that replaced your old plant pots.

“Hah? What are you two yappin’ about?” Mammon huffed, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t part of this big secret that you two seemed to share. Notus smugly cuddled up to him, arms wrapping around his bicep a little too tight. “Oh it’s nothing! Just a little…gift, I got MC as a thank you for being such a great guide!”

“Oi! How come I never got anythin’ from ya when I had to babysit?” His brows furrow as he clearly attempts to, rather nicely, shrug off the unwanted attention. This is the first time you’ve seen Mammon look so visibly uncomfortable - clearly oblivious to such a fact, Notus continued snuggling themselves closer, trailing their fingers up and down Mammon’s arm.

Of course, you ended up telling all of this Lucifer, to which he implemented a special spell on your lock so no sneaky human that’s barely acquainted with magic could unlock, with the reassurance that if these “pranks” and unwanted behaviours escalate, it would be taken to Lord Diavolo directly.

──────────────────────

Mammon was an obvious first victim for this weird power trip of a game - he’s as kind as a lamb and just the teeniest bit dumb (lovingly so, you reassure him) - but somehow the antics got more assertive and the targets much more hazardous. Satan. Honestly at this point, all you could feel was pity as you sat in the living room, nose buried in a book that Solomon had instructed you to study.

Notus had lived alongside you for a little over two weeks now, and while those small pranks continued, this is the first time you’ve seen them take on an “opponent” that would be way too much to chew. Sliding onto the couch with a careless saunter, Notus cozied themselves up into a cushion right near Satan’s arm, their breath basically ghosting over his neck. His face twitched.

“What?” Satan scowled, a face you haven’t seen in a while crunching his usually stoic expression to a frown.

“Sataan, can you please help me study? I’m struggling in Seductive Speechcraft and need a bit of…” their hand awkwardly inches closer to his hair, “guidance.”

“Go find a book or ask your lecturer.” He aids somewhat clamly, before that mask slips off momentarily to threaten them: “Don’t bother me, you’ll regret it.”

Well, that ended quicker than you expected. Guess even the ever so bold exchange student cowers at the icy glare from the Avatar of Wrath? You can’t help but giggle from where you sat, to which Notus immediately looks up for, facing twisted in an ugly scowl.

──────────────────────

After the failure that didn’t even really begin that was the day before, Notus went for someone much more gullible and easy to please. The favourite orange-haired glutton. Offering him a massive, drool-worthy sponge cake from the human world that they swear, “MC asked me to deliver!” He wasted no time in scarfing down the citric frosting soon as that familiar melodic sound of your name hit his ears.

Beelzebub isn’t known to be someone who’s reluctant to not eat things - unless it’s Mammon’s or Solomon’s sacrilegious cooking - but in this case he wished he could control himself when it came to things that look and smelt promising. Because soon as that icing coated his tongue, his belly grumbled with a heinous rage. Not one born from hunger, no, but rather nausea. Thankfully, Beel’s a big dude who can handle pretty much anything, so it’s not like whatever poison or foul-tasting potion that was slipped between the buttercream did him any damage (apart from ruining his mood), but nonetheless, he felt horrible and got a lengthy scolding from Belphie to boot.

He doesn’t blame you, you might’ve just messed up somewhere and that’s ok! Beel sets the rest of the cake aside with a little warning label that it made him feel ill and if it did him, it could probably kill anyone else, before scurrying off to find an actual bite to eat. Guilt did gnaw at him for a while because, normally, he’s easily able to eat anything you make since you make it with so much love! But Beel can also recognise foul play when he sees it and also comfortably assess that the icing used wasn’t mixed in the way you do it.

──────────────────────

These little instances stopped for a while, which made you foolishly believe that perhaps they learnt their lesson and decided to turn in for the better. Notus manages to surprise you once again - instead of targeting the brothers, the attention comes back to you. The original plan was; conjure up a curse on your pillow that forces you to have perpetual nightmares, which henceforth makes you irritable and hopefully slip up in front of the brothers, preferably make you so grouchy that you say something irredeemable.

What factor Notus failed to account for is the fact the brothers also LOVE your room, and a person who specifically loves stealing shit from you is Belphegor, who so unfortunately kidnapped that one pillow ridden with a curse while stumbling into your room with a drowsy head.

The House of Lamentation isn’t known for being quiet, so the bickering downstairs over breakfast overwhelmed the space per usual, but soon as those thumps of heavy footsteps echoed down the flight of stairs connected to the twin’s room - the house went eerily silent. An overly irritated Belphie ghosts into the room with darker eyebags than normal, his face hauntingly pale with a vein popping from his forehead, body limply dragging itself.

Notus felt the hairs on the back of their neck stand up as Belphie saunters behind them, looming over like an owl would a mouse before growling: “Do you always ruin the things you touch, or is this a hobby?” Belphie may be the youngest and therefore the weakest, but when it comes to anything dream and curse related, he will know exactly who’s behind it. And if you hadn’t taught him the slightest bit of mercy, he was sure Notus’ skin would serve Asmodeus as a nice handbag.

──────────────────────

Speaking of the jewel Asmodeus, Notus’ technique was much more…social sabotage based. Spreading a vile rumor around RAD that you made a disparaging comment about Asmodeus’ character was a sure fire way to get some sort of hate train going. Rumours spread fast around RAD, especially when concerning one of the Devildom’s most infamous partygoers, after all - and the drama was sure to escalate when the oddly beloved MC was involved. Notus devilishly giggled to themselves, before knocking on Asmodeus’ room, hands clasped together in faux prayer.

The door swings open to reveal Asmo adorned with silver jewellery that coiled together like moonlight kissed webs, earrings curling into shiny heart shaped crystals that he seemed to still be putting in. With a raise of a brow he smiled politely: “Yes, hon?”

“I saw the awful things MC said about you! I’m so sorry…you must be going through so much pain,” Notus sniffles, that drama class they took back in Year 9 really paying off for once. “If it’s any consolation I think you’re amazing…I mean even all your jewellery know looks like it was practically designed with your image in mind, it’s so glorious!”

Guess they took Satan’s advice after all.

Asmo is kind. Somewhat - ish…But not when it comes to people that use cheap tricks against his beloveds. Sure, the flattery was great, but appreciation is always better when it’s genuine and sincere, specifically your praise was something his vain heart sought afer. “Aw dear,” Asmodeus cooed, hands cupping Notus’ face gently, an act that makes them smile a little unnervingly. “If you knew me at all you’d know I designed these, quite recently in fact.”

Shit.

Notus felt their face heat up in embarrassment, hands suddenly clammy with sweat. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t feel so great to be caught in a scorpion’s tail. “Sweetie,” he laughs, patting Notus’s shoulder with mock sympathy. “You could never turn me against MC. They’re real, and you’re just…trying too hard, aren’t you?”

The grip on Notus’ face suddenly tightens, that orange hue in Asmodeus’ eyes tinting a more saturated shade. “Feel free to say whatever you wish about me, but utter another word about my MC, and I’ll drain your marrow and leave your bones bare of sinews.”

A not so nice reminder that bloodlust is still a form of lust.

That backfired spectacularly. Instead of you getting bombarded with hate and being shred apart in anything you posted, it was the newest exchange student that was the prime highlight of what desperation and pathetic self-esteem looked like. Comments ranged from anything like:

“Lord…this is just embarrassing for them lol”

“thanks for the tutorial on social suicide <3”

“an attempt was made…but it should’ve been with a rope.”

Much to you and the brother’s greatest dismay, the forum that was freely spouting random comments about the situation was gradually shut down under Diavolo’s leadership. He did find it the teeniest bit funny though…

──────────────────────

In naming pathetic self-esteem, a particular water dweller comes to mind: Leviathan. He was going to be a tricky one to lure (said in a hopeful manner as if the others weren’t total failures). Not particularly because he’s the third oldest, making his raw power single-handedly capable of wiping Notus away from existence. No, it was the depressing fact that he’s a recluse that seethes to himself whenever you giggle at a joke someone other than him has made.

Although, they did manage to misuse his social awkwardness to their advantage - by acting shy and nervous as they sweetly ask if they can also join the gaming session with you and him. Levi chose a multiplayer dungeon crawler, the kind where cooperation is key — and where you certainly have excelled before. Notus, however, had other plans.

Small, inconsequential mistakes didn’t bother Levi too much…you and him were good enough for the time being, but by level, these “mistakes” of theirs just spiralled uncontrollably. Taking up important loot meant for you, and even using rare healing potions on themselves at the wrong time, leaving your character on the brink of death.

“Oh no!” Notus gasped, hand to their mouth. “I didn’t mean to—uh, sorry, Levi! I guess I’m just not used to such a complicated game.” They glanced slyly at you, a smug grin creeping onto their face.

Levi frowned, his tail twitching with irritation. “It’s not that complicated,” he muttered. “You just...have to listen.” You don’t even remember when he switched into his demon form, but you can somewhat presume it was around the second the first whine gasped from their lips.

Despite their blunders, Notus managed to turn the situation into a chance for attention, constantly praising Levi in exaggerated tones. “Wow, Levi, you’re so good at this game! I mean, you basically carried us, right?” They laughed, shooting another smug glance your way. “MC must feel so lucky to have someone like you showing them the ropes.”

 Levi blinked, looking between Notus and you. His face flushed, but not in the usual embarrassed way—it was frustration. “What are you even talking about?” he snapped. “MC doesn’t need me to ‘carry’ them. They’re actually good at this!”

Notus tried to backtrack, laughing nervously. “Oh, sure, sure! I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”

“Just stop.” Levi's voice was uncharacteristically firm. His eyes darted to you, softening. “MC doesn’t need someone like you pointing out their skills. They’ve already proven themselves. Unlike, uh, certain people who don’t even know how to play.”

The match ended shortly after, with Levi muttering about how “toxic noobs ruin games.” He didn’t invite Notus back for another session.

──────────────────────

Lucifer’s patience had worn thinner than a threadbare string. The complaints from his brothers about Notus's antics had escalated from minor annoyances to full-blown disruptions of their routines. Asmodeus couldn’t walk down the hallway without Notus latching on to him, Leviathan’s game nights had been interrupted by bizarre "accidental" server crashes, and even Belphegor muttered in frustration about charms slipping into his blankets to make him "dream of Notus."

Through it all, you have endured the worst of it — every petty prank, sabotage attempt, and unwelcome spell aimed at undermining your place in the Devildom. You’ve handled it with your usual grace, brushing off bruised egos and minor inconveniences with an easy smile. But this time, Notus had gone too far.

Self efficacy is quite the funny theory - the more you believe in yourself, the more likely you are to succeed. The more successes you have, the better your confidence. So how come even without that, Notus seemed to be as determined as ever to ruin your mood?

The prank seemed harmless at first—a minor tripwire spell meant to tangle your legs and leave you stumbling in embarrassment. But Notus, in their reckless desperation to make you look bad, underestimated the strength of the curse. When the trap activated, you didn’t just trip - you were violently flung forward, crashing into a jagged edge of a chair (there’s too many of them in the House of Lamentation as you just got to personally establish).

The sound of breaking wood reverberated through the house. You hit the floor hard, crimson spilling from a deep gash on your arm where wood had pierced skin. Placing your fingertips on the gush of blood pooling around the scratches, your hands webbed with red iron.

Lucifer arrived almost immediately, his presence a storm brewing in the hall. His brothers, frozen in stunned silence, stood back as he knelt to examine you. His gloved hands trembled faintly as he carefully removed the shards and inspected the various wounds that differentiated in size and depth.

Notus tried to deflect, stammering about how it was just a joke gone wrong, their confidence cracking under Lucifer’s piercing glare. “I-I didn’t mean for it to—MC is just so dramatic, they—”

“Silence.”

Lucifer’s single word was sharper than a blade, and the room fell into an oppressive silence. His wings, usually tucked away, unfurled slightly — a stark warning of the fury he struggled to contain. He rose to his full height, towering over Notus, his face a mask of cold fury.

“You’ve been a disruption from the moment you arrived, but this? This is beyond forgiveness.”

──────────────────────

Notus didn’t learn their lesson, of course. Their jealousy burned too brightly to let them stop. But this time, you’ve sincerely had had enough, and with Thirteen’s help, you concocted a poetic dose of karmic justice mingled with a touch of the classics.

Diavolo was long informed of the incident involving you previously, and further filled in on all the previous attempts of ruining both your reputation and relationship with your family. A little meeting in the RAD council room was in due order - one which all of the affected were invited for a silly show.

Lucifer stood impatiently next to a stone-faced Diavolo. You would find it slightly threatening if you didn’t know what was going to happen in just a few moments. Thirteen sat next to you, swinging back and forth on a chair as she grinned at you with every wavering gaze at one another.

And like moth to a flame, blazing with both frustration and smugness, Notus strolled on in. Well, I say stroll - I mean struggle with opening the door before they accidentally put too much pressure on the handle, leading to the doors gushing open with a far swing, and the buckets utop the bar to drop down like catharsis.

A greedy sorcerer from sorcerer’s society that just so happened to notice you when you came in one day with a few of the brother’s and Solomon the Wise himself - Notus couldn’t bare the idea that a little thing like you could swoop in and charm them so easily.

Now covered in a disgusting, webbed display of pig’s blood and some sticky consistency of water mixed with honey, Notus simply stands there, allowing defeat to settle in while the crescendo of giggles cuts deep into their pride.

“Alright alright, I’ve got enough of a laugh out of this,” you clap your hands, whispering an incantation that forces a gush of water to rain down upon them, washing away the weird concoction that coated their skin.

“Aw what, that’s no fun lol.” Leviathan pouts in the background.

“Whaaat!! What a bore…” Mammon grumbled to himself, looking away from the sopping wet dog once his eyes accidentally caught theirs.

“MC…” Notus sniffled pitifully, looking up at you through tear-stained lashes.

“Yes yes, I know,” you sigh, hands on your hips as you try your best to articulate your reasoning for this baseless morality. “This isn’t forgiveness or anything, the stuff you’ve done warrants actual apologies but hey, I’ve had a few of the demons in here attempt to kill me before,” Belphegor coincidentally looks away, “a few jabs at my reputation with failing results was honestly a little funny.”

Notus’ eyes glimmer with shiny stars and fat blobs of tears as they murmured a very simple:

“Fmnf…I love you.”

“…”

“Huh?”

#also kept exchange student GN bc…it feels weird to make them either or lol #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #omswd #obey me nb #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #asmo x reader #beelzebub x reader #beel x reader #belphie x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x you

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vir-tanadahl · 11 hours ago

Text

I can understand, to a degree, why people like the dynamic between Rook and Solas.

Power Dynamics:

Rook and Solas: They are more on an equal playing field than Solas and Lavellan. Rook is a foil to Solas, leading to their interactions feeling charged with tension, mutual respect, or challenge. This dynamic allows for a sense of balance where neither character easily overshadows the other.

Lavellan and Solas: The Herald of Andraste storyline often casts Lavellan in a reactive role to Solas's secrets, creating an imbalance that can diminish her as an equal, especially when his intellectual depth and ancient perspective dominate their interactions.

Subverting Expectations

Rook and Solas: Rook offers a dynamic that leans more toward camaraderie (what feels like it anyway) , conflict, or shared purpose than romance or tragedy.

Lavellan and Solas: Their relationship frequently revolves around heartbreak and tragedy, particularly the "inevitability" of Solas’s betrayal.

Personality Clashes

Rook and Solas: Rook brings out a more vibrant or combative side of Solas, offering snappy dialogue, wit, or banter. These sharp exchanges could feel more dynamic and entertaining.

Lavellan and Solas: With Lavellan, their interactions are generally thoughtful or diplomatic personality.

More under the cute, but the TDLR:

The romance between Solas and Lavellan in DAI provides a heartfelt and authentic look into Solas’s character that stands apart from his dynamic with Rook. With Lavellan, Solas shows vulnerability, shares mutual growth, and sets aside his Dread Wolf persona, building a deep emotional connection filled with love, regret, and bittersweet moments.

This relationship brings out the 'human' side of Solas, highlighting his struggles and offering a transformative intimacy that Rook’s more strategic and manipulative dynamic just doesn’t capture. Lavellan’s ability to see and connect with the man behind the myth makes their romance a beautiful story of love and redemption.

I want to clarify that, while Solas did lie to Lavellan about being the Dread Wolf, the majority of his knowledge stems from his real-life experiences rather than insights gleaned from the Fade.

Ultimately, the Solas we interact with is authentically closer to himself, as he had to set aside the Dread Wolf persona and his goals temporarily (again, the plan is always there, but he has to wait before he makes the next move).

Solas’s interactions with the companions, such as his the mind game of chess with the Iron Bull, were entirely optional—he chose to engage in those dynamics. He wanted to help distract Iron Bull.

In contrast, he approaches the Rook very differently. Rather than fostering true camaraderie, he actively maneuvers to ensure the Rook stumbles—not to completely ruin them, but just enough to leave them overwhelmed by regret. His ultimate goal is to use their failure as a means to justify swapping them into the prison.

If I break down the Solas we see in DAI and Solas from DATV:

Approachability

In DAI: He is approachable and engaging, presenting himself as an enigmatic yet earnest and curious figure. Solas shares insights on the Fade, elven history, and the world with a personal touch that fosters connection.

In DATV: He is calculated distance and cold resolve, shifting his focus from relationships to achieving grand goals. He becomes less accessible, more foreboding, and deliberate, with little room for personal warmth.

Transparency

In DAI: Though he hides key truths about his identity and intentions, he acts as a teacher and guide, sharing his perspectives and philosophies. His deceptions feel like protective omissions, often revealing moments of genuine emotion and vulnerability.

In DATV: He becomes far more guarded and manipulative. His words and actions are layered with strategy, designed to further his plan and long-term goals rather than build a true level of trust or intimacy.

Emotional State

In DAI: Solas seems less jaded, even wistful, with interactions marked by curiosity and a willingness to be challenged, evident in his budding romance with Lavellan or debates with companions like Cassandra and Iron Bull.

In DATV: His decisions reflect a hardened resolve, shaped by regret and a belief that sacrifices, no matter how painful, are necessary

Goals

In DAI: He is more exploratory and observational. While there is still strategy involved with him staying with the inquisition, there is also curiosity.

In DATV: Every action he takes serves his mission to restore the ancient world and remove the Veil. His time for reflection and exploration is over, replaced by a single-minded pursuit of his vision

I've seen it said that Rook is a better romance option for Solas because unlike Lavellan, they know who he is from the get go. So let me make something clear:

Rook does not know Solas better than Lavellan does. They know his history, his crimes, even his regrets, but what he shows when they talk to him is very much a mask.

Fen'harel is not who Solas is. As dishonest as he was about his past during his time with the Inquisition, he also came the closest to being himself ever since he took a body.

In sappy terms, he hid his deeds and plans from Lavellan, but not his heart. With Rook, it's the opposite.

Who we see in Veilguard is not some kind of "Solas unmasked", it's Solas who has returned to wearing the mask he was allowed to shed for a little while and hide the fact he'd ever worn it.

The raggedy apostate who plays mental chess with Bull, trolls Sera, beats Blackwall at diamondback, who nerds out about magic with Dorian and approves of helping every single hinterlands peasant you encounter, that's the real Solas. Keeping his past a secret is what allowed him to stop being what his service to Mythal and his people made him into, even if for just a little while.

#datv #datv spoilers

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heegyukeluv · 23 hours ago

Text

it's okay... (sjy)

pairing: jake x afab!reader

synopsis: Jake's sensitiveness was, ironically enough, a sensitive topic to him. What would you think seeing him getting so desperate over a few gentle touches on his back?

my's note: inspired by ari's talking w me about jake being sensitive lol

warnings: established relationship, jake is very sensitive to readers touches and is shy about it, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, jake cums untouched, desperate, needy and sensitive jake, dry humping? kinda?, literally reader caressing jake's back and him coming with that lol, he nearly cries. lmk if i missed something!

wc: 4.3k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse

Jake was sensitive. So sensitive. And everywhere.

You and he started dating not so long ago; three months into a beautiful and comfortable relationship, he showed you plenty of possibilities of how to like and eventually love someone. He was steadily and easily climbing to the rank of being the man of your life.

Every nuance of your relationship with Jake was delightful, cozy, gentle. He cared for you with genuine affection and always tried his hardest to give you the best of the best – if felt contrastingly effortless and intentional, offering you a reliable safe haven.

The physical side of your relationship was equally fulfilling. From the start, your boyfriend had been nothing but respectful towards your boundaries, leaving the pace entirely in your hands. Jake let you decide when the touches were just innocent, light ones, and when they started to dive deep into something more profound, more intense, something you eventually named as lust, laced with passion and need.

Jake was fucking hot. He didn’t disappoint – never did. With his skilled tongue and mouth, he made sure to send you to heaven, to hell and back to earth in minutes of work on your pussy, leaving you panting, breathless, aching for more, chanting his name like a messy mantra. And down onto his body he didn’t lack as well, allowing you to see stars with deep and precise thrusts, touching your g-spot as if he knew ever since the beginning.

Jake knew how to please a girl – his girl.

But there was a constant lingering, unspoken tension whenever you touched him.

Jake was the most sensitive person you ever met. Just the idea of your fingertips grazing his biceps was enough to make him rock hard – an information he for sure didn’t give you and prayed you didn’t notice either.

What would you think if you knew? If you realized how easily and powerful your touch flustered him? How the mere fantasy of your hands roaming his body could make him feel like the world’s most hopelessly horny man?

The thought haunted him and he kept it locked away, terrified of what you might say if you uncovered just how badly he wanted – needed – you.

Jake came to realize that you put his entire being under a specific and delicious spell as soon as he fell for you. Better: as soon as he saw you.

The first encounter was unplanned and with no expectations attached to it, after all, who thinks a party fling could turn into something real? Jake still had a vivid memory of how the curves of your hot body fitted your outfit that night, hugging your figure with care and just the right amount of temptation that got his body weak, pulling close like a magnet.

He paid for your drinks willingly, thinking a pretty woman like you deserved to be treated just how she wanted to; he didn’t ask for anything in return, though – a kiss nor your number. He just cherished your presence, your sweet talk and your way of gesticulating when speaking.

Jake sat by your side for the rest of that night sharing his interests, genuinely happy with your warm and approachable reception.

He also cheered silently when you pressed your soft lips onto his before heading your way out without faltering or looking back, leaving behind a desperate man missing the touch of your gorgeous fingers on his locks and your tongue against his.

The following encounters happened at a pace you wanted. Yes, you wanted.

When you got home, you couldn’t help but notice how affected you felt by the gentle, caring touch of that respectful guy you had kissed. It wasn’t typical for you to attend parties, let alone kiss strangers – or even recent acquaintances. Your values nudged you towards something more reserved, something more personal.

But Jake awakened a sense of ease in you, offering a space of trust that utterly charmed you. Maybe it was the sweet way he spoke, or the way the corners of his lips curled up into that soft, boyish smile. He was gorgeous – and he seemed so affectionate, not to mention undeniably hot.

You looked Jake up on Instagram and found him effortlessly, and your meetings happened casually, until they culminated in an intimate moment: when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Not long after, you guided him into the beginning of your shared sexual journey as a couple. And it was so, so good to find someone whose tastes and desires aligned so well with yours.

You felt powerful and confident knowing the effect you had on Jake. It was almost funny to notice how even something as simple as you wearing one of his shirts could leave him hard and needy.

Alongside that, Jake also shamelessly acted as if you owned him, from casually asking your permission to go out with his friends, to making sure he was never out of your sight for too long. You never asked him to behave that way, but when you questioned his actions, he simply shrugged it off, claiming it was for his own pleasure. He liked the idea of you having control over him.

And you definitely did.

Yeah, Jake was sensitive with any type of touches, even when his friends hugged him he would squirm if their hands caressed his back in certain places, but you… You got him wrapped around your finger easily.

He never found the right words to describe the amount of pleasure he felt when your fingers grazed his arms, or caressed the back of his neck, or touched his hair, or just got in contact with any other place of his body.

Just you and your beautiful hands traveling through each inch of his skin were more than enough to elicit soft moans, a pathetic roll of eyes and a shiver down his dick.

You were now sitting on your bed, back lazily resting on the headboard with your legs stretched forward, while Jake napped by your side, lying on his stomach and hugging one of your many pillows; his soft snores getting lost in between the sounds of war coming from the TV, proving he was getting deep into his sleep little by little.

The agreement between you both involved Jake watching the movie with you, but he was so, so exhausted from work that you didn’t even consider starting an argument – though, honestly, you probably wouldn’t have anyway. Jake was such a sweetheart, and in your opinion, he had already done so much by coming to your place instead of his, even though yours was half an hour farther.

After you demanded him to go to sleep and he demanded you to go watch the movie without him, you found yourself in that exact position; your boyfriend sleeping and your hands wanting to caress his silky strands, as a way to casually fidget with something.

You didn’t hold yourself and softly placed your fingertips to thread through Jake’s hair, just like you always did when he laid on your lap.

Jake thought he was dreaming, his mind confused, caught somewhere between reality and sleep, making it difficult for him to figure out why his body was tingling.

But it wasn’t a bad tingling, no. In fact, it was the same sensation he felt whenever you touched him – the pleasant shiver of your fingers tracing warm wonders wherever they wandered, the rush of pleasure melting away the self-control Jake had worked so hard to maintain, just so you wouldn’t see how completely he had fallen apart before your mere touches.

...

Jake’s eyes snapped open, and his body tensed immediately when the realization hit: you were gently stroking his hair with the same affection you always did, that natural, tender gesture of love shared between those who cared deeply for each other. But your daring hands didn’t seem to want to stop there. They trailed down the back of his neck, sending an instant shiver through his body.

You didn’t notice right away, but your boyfriend shifted slightly, fighting the moan that threatened to escape his throat as you obliviously continued your loving touch. It quickly became a difficult task for him to remain silent when you began to play with the small hairs at the back of his neck, absentmindedly pausing and resuming your movements while your attention was entirely on the plot of the movie, as if your touch had become as instinctive as Jake's exaggerated reactions.

He didn’t want to alarm you or draw your attention to the growing – hard – problem beneath his pants, however, with each delicate stroke of your skin against his still covered one, waves of pleasure washed over him, making it nearly impossible for his breath to maintain its stability.

The sensation was intoxicating and desperate, because it fueled the fear of getting caught together with the craving to keep going, to keep driving through that induced high Jake was slowly allowing himself to go.

As your fingers continued their gentle, nonchalant exploration, Jake’s body began to contort a bit more, especially when your fingertips started to softly draw random shapes along the sensitive surface of his back.

His fucking back.

Jake had a certain spot that, when touched just the right way, could completely unravel him. A single, subtle touch there and his body would jolt, almost instinctively trying to pull away, but if the one doing the touching was you, the reaction was entirely different.

The sensation, instead of causing discomfort, flooded his body with warmth, sending a slow, delightful buzz straight to his lower parts, where stood his growing desire mixed with the pleasure that seemed to bloom with every caress.

Completely unaware of how affected Jake was getting, you continued to calmly trace your fingers along the contours of his spine, leaving trails of warmth on it. Eventually, you felt the hardness of his back underneath your touch tensing, but you didn’t mind, knowing Jake was sensitive and was probably only automatically shifting away, the way he always seemed to do.

The movie drew your concentration intensely enough for you to barely hear when Jake whined, blending almost perfectly with the fight scene unfolding before your eyes on the TV. You took another quick notice of his body writhing with more constancy, nearly matching your movements, yet again, you didn’t give it any proper attention.

Jake was on the verge of crying in despair, whines and moans getting lost amidst the soft pillow and his mouth pressing onto it, aware that he would snap into a complete mess if he lost control over his body – and he felt it slowly slipping through without giving him the chance to fight for it, swelling the urge, the yearn for more.

Instinctively, his eyes shut close and hips started to rut against the mattress, hoping that the sheet covering his body would occult his nasty attempts of getting some relief, knowing that he could cum just by the way you touched his body.

Jake also silently prayed for the loud scene on the TV to continue on for just a few more minutes, long enough for him to savor the tantalizing sensation coursing through his veins and stifle his sounds. It was as though he were on the edge to melt – a relaxation that wasn’t calming at all but instead left him craving more, his mind hazed in a state of unbearable anticipation, building up something intense and way too addictive.

Suddenly, his entire body trembled, almost like a spasm, a wave of numbing electricity surging through every inch of him. It pulled a rather loud moan from his previously pursed lips, escaping together with his failed attempt to squirm away.

You had, entirely by accident, let your fingertips graze featherlight over that spot on his back – right in the center, where even the faintest touch, especially one as delicate as yours, had the power to drive him completely insane, unraveling every shred of control he thought he had.

A puzzled expression immediately crossed your face as your gaze fell on your boyfriend, still lying on his stomach but now visibly tense, his breathing uneven. Slowly, the pieces began to fall into place: the way his body wouldn’t stop shifting, the sounds – now unmistakably coming from him, not the movie.

Jake fell nervously silent right after, his dick twitching, already wetting his underwear with the leaking precum; the heat travelled towards his neck and face, leaving his skin flaming hot with embarrassment, because for his misfortune, the scene in the movie was now calm, with no soundtracks or voices to cover his noises.

You lowered the volume from the TV, so you could be heard by Jake as your quiet voice filled the room.

“Baby, are you alright?”

Perhaps Jake was feeling sick with the amount of movements he was doing and the small painful sounds he was letting out when you finally paid attention to. Consequently, you halted your action of brushing your fingers randomly on his back, now resting your palm completely flat on it, oblivious of how hot Jake was feeling under your touch.

“No– D–Don’t stop–”

His voice was muffled due to his position and the fact that he wanted to actively hide himself from you, ashamed of his pathetic reaction with such innocent touches. Nonetheless, in a twist, he threw all restraint to the wind, fully surrendering to the blissful sensation you were providing him, embracing his embarrassing helpless, meek persona.

You, however, furrowed your brows, confused. “What?”

“Your hand–” He exasperated the exact moment you hinted to remove your hand away, arching his torso towards where he thought you could be, as if searching for them. “Please, don’t stop…”

Reading through his words and demeanor, you struggled to comprehend entirely what they were about, so you simply stayed there, waiting for further instruction, because the only reasonable conclusion you could draw was that Jake was silently asking you to keep touching his back, in a whimpering voice.

“Jake, love… I don’t think I understand…”

“Just keep going,” he mumbled, now grabbing your wrist without facing you, to place your fingers back on where they should be, forcing the motion you were doing before. “Your fingers on my back. Please, just… Keep going.”

Even without Jake looking at you, you blinked twice and cocked your head to the side, utterly bewildered.

“You mean…” You trailed off, resuming to trace gentle patterns with your fingertips, still uncertain. “This?”

The answer was immediate. Even without Jake’s verbal response, you knew you got it right because he jolted slightly and moaned under his breath, trembling.

“Fuck– Y–Yes…”

You positioned yourself better to keep drawing random things on his clothed back, just like he solicited.

Part of you was still a bit confused, but you couldn’t ignore the soft, breathy moans that Jake was starting to let out again. Slowly but surely, you began to piece the puzzle together – the way his hips shifted, grinding ever so slightly into the mattress, his movements gaining a rhythm, a near-thrusting motion, his sudden breathy moans, his needy voice.

Your touch, innocent and unintentional, was being turned into something far from pure under Jake’s judgment; each subtle graze of your fingertips across his skin seemed to push him further into a state of intoxicating desperation. It was ridiculous, lascivious, and utterly delicious to your ears and your growing curiosity.

"Aw, baby," you cooed, your voice dripping with a mix of amusement and teasing affection. "Are you really this sensitive?"

A muffled hum was all he could manage to mumble, his face now buried in the pillow in a feeble attempt to hide the flush spreading across his cheeks. But shame couldn’t hold his need; his pleasure was overwhelming, spilling out in brazen sounds and increasingly shameless movements.

"Or," you taunted again with a smirk, letting your hand glide a little lower, earning another gasp from him, "is it me? Am I the cause of this?"

"You," he murmured, his voice broken but certain. "Always you."

His unwavering answer sent a thrilling shiver down your spine, and though his face was hidden, you could feel how much control he was losing, surrendering entirely to your touch. His hips moved with more purpose now, and his muffled, constant moans were a symphony of surrender and desire, a beautiful melody that let your panties ruined with your growing arousal.

“So dirty, aren’t you?”

Jake didn’t assign to have you playing with his most sensitive spot while talking in such a velvety voice when he chose you as his girlfriend, but he was definitely happy knowing you were enjoying it as much as him; your low chuckle to his instant, urgent reaction reiterating it.

“N–No…” He shook his head. “‘M not, it’s just–”

“It’s okay…” A soothing whisper escaped your lips, eyes once full of amusement now dropping to a darker shade, hooded, as the air grew thicker; the necessity of pleasuring your man bubbled within your core with each passing second, an ache you didn’t know existed until now. “Does that feel good, baby?”

Jake groaned a soft hum, his body betraying him with a wave of desire flushing through it. He squirmed beneath your touch, his shoulders jerking upward involuntarily when your fingers traced a deliberate, lingering line from the base of his spine up to the nape of his neck. The movement was slow, tantalizing, and precisely intoxicating.

Every muscle in his body seemed to tighten as he whimpered softly, his voice muffled by the pillow. His reaction only spurred you on, your touch becoming a little bolder, savoring the way his body responded so beautifully to every slight motion of your fingers.

“Can you really cum just by this, my love?” Your voice curled through the air, low and calm, yet amused with how responsive Jake’s was being, his shameless impulses of getting himself off untouched eliciting a clench on your pussy.

“I dunno…”

In between Jake’s answer, you propped yourself with a knee on each side of his waist, not completely leaving your full weight to sit on him, but mainly to give a proper access for your fingernails to wander carefree in direct contact with his skin, as they sneaked beneath the soft white fabric of his shirt, meeting the goosebumped flesh that yearned for more of your sweet, slow touches.

Jake could feel his underwear growing wetter with the steady, uncontrollable leak of precum seeping from the swollen tip of his dick. His damp forehead pressed into the pillow, leaving only a narrow space for him to breathe, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps as the heat consumed him.

Was your room always that hot?

“Should we try?”

You let only a hand inside his shirt so you would be able to support yourself with the other, as you lowered your torso forward, enough to have your lips finding a place on his sensitive neck, your warm muscle dancing deliberately against the flesh that reacted instantly to your stimulus.

Jake was far from thinking straight, aligning his body to settle you more comfortably, though his true intention was to drive through the delicious high that was building up in his lower stomach, his abdomen tightening within each subtle draw you were tracing, teetering towards the dangerous edge of coming undone and untouched before your caress.

“Shit–”

The curse spilled past his parted lips amidst a sequence of messy moans due to the overwhelmness of your presence over his whole body, leaving him writhing, wincing, trembling with need. His hips moved slightly frantic with the crescent blazing necessity of releasing his orgasm, grinding against the mattress as he desperately chased relief.

“Feels good, Jakey?” You murmured, lips brushing against the top of his ear, tickling the sensitive area, causing more shivers to run his body.

“Yes, fuck– Yes– Mhm–” His stuttered words were music to your ears, loving how he was melting, falling, dissolving under your control.

However, deep down Jake felt a sudden wave of despair and remorse mingling with the lustful desire that had been fueled by your constancy. His thoughts spiraled, and for a moment, he felt utterly pathetic, questioning how he could be so stupid, acting like a desperate fool just from a few gentle and innocent caresses.

It was like his mind got so lost in pleasure, that it dived too deep into his past and consequently revisited those reminiscences that once was his biggest fear. Panic seized him, his thoughts racing in horror at what you might be thinking, terrified of how vulnerable and broken he must look in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry...” Jake whispered, his voice thick with emotion, almost breaking into a sob, his back arching within a wave because, even apologetical, he kept on drifting through the amazing feel of getting closer to his climax.

Aware of the possible overthinking nature of your boyfriend threatening to bloom, you shook your head softly, the tip of your nose grazing sweetly against his neck.

“Shh, it’s okay, Jakey,” you reassured in a quiet whisper. “This is completely normal, my love. You look so beautiful falling apart for me.”

You dared to lower your fingernails to his sides, tickling the area ever so slightly before dragging them out of his shirt to play with the inner part of his exposed biceps, as he laid with his arms tucked under the pillow and gave you easy access.

Your eyes tried to search for him, but Jake was actively avoiding his pathetically broken expression to be read by your curious gaze, especially as he felt his release getting extremely near to snapping into a complete wet mess.

“‘M so close…”

It was clear by the way he sounded – shaky – and how his crotch area sought for even more friction within his frantic grinds that he wasn’t lying.

Jake’s moans shattered into whimpers that you had never had the special privilege of hearing until now, grateful that your boyfriend had, albeit initially unknowingly, allowed you to witness such a delectable piece of his existence, drenched in rising desire and pleasure.

You found yourself hoping he would feel comfortable enough to show you more, now that you knew just how deeply it affected you to experience this moment with him.

It was a melodic symphony that melted your self-control, pushing you to the edge, to the point where you almost, almost fell into the idea of rubbing yourself against any available part of his body, desperate to join him in his search for release that night.

Jake looked so beautiful, so irresistibly sexy, as he got lost in the vastness of his own sensitivity, surrendering completely to his instincts, to the overwhelming need to come, no longer caring how foolish he might appear to you, driven by pure, raw desire.

“Come for me, baby,” you whispered, your voice inviting, tempting, your hand back to lightly graze the curve of his spine as you guided him towards where he needed the most. “Lemme see your mess, mhm?”

“Fuck–” Jake let out a louder moan, at the same time his fingers grasped the sheet beneath his palms, and his whole body trembled with an unbearable sensation of flood, as though his failed attempts of preventing to burst out embarrassingly prematurely, untouched, poured through his every pore within an intense force when he let go. “Fuck, fuck, fuck– Cumming–”

You couldn’t deny that Jake’s whole reaction was driving you, yourself, insane. The desperate way he sounded, so vulnerable, helplessly chanting a mix of your name and parted whimpers and groans, as if he got lost into a maze of a lustful bliss he didn’t want to go away from so easily, and let the responsibility on you, you to lead the way.

“I’ve got you, my love,” your hot breath fanned his nape, a small smirk gracing the curve of your lips as you murmured against the shell of his ear, fingers still dancing lightly on his heated, smooth flesh. “My messy, sensitive boy… Yeah?”

Jake rolled his closed eyes in pleasure, because he was still a bit tipsy from your scent, your mild touches, your comfortableness that allowed his particular part to shine without shying away completely.

“Mhm…” He quietly nodded. “Yours.”

Though Jake was the one achieving his climax, you also felt completely satisfied after your not-so-hard work; you enjoyed, no, you loved to explore this new possibility, this new slope of your relationship. It gave you a sense of confidence that flattered your ego in the best way possible, since you managed to make your boyfriend to cum with just soft touches. And he was beautiful while doing it.

“I’m shy.”

Jake’s mumbled voice cut through the heavy air that slowly calmed down, and you chuckled lightly with his choice of words, removing yourself from his back to sit on your knees and playfully nudge his sides.

“Lemme see you. I miss your pretty face.”

Jake shook his head and giggled, the warmth of your naturally cozy and reliable relationship taking place deliberately in between Jake’s rigged breath; he could feel how soaked his underwear and shorts were, and the bedsheet would very much be dampened with his arousal as well.

He was slightly bashful about showing you the obvious – after all, you were fully aware that he had just come in his pants. And while he was drowning in embarrassment, you were practically biting your tongue to keep from screaming about how ridiculously turned on you were by it.

But, as always, knowing your boyfriend's nature, you said the one thing guaranteed to make him hard all over again, something that would not only crush his lingering shame but also ignite his confidence to finally meet your gaze.

“You have no idea how desperate I am to ride you right now.”

#jake x reader #jake smut #sim jake x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #jake hard thoughts #heegyukeluv works

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harmonysanreads · 3 days ago

Note

harmony, do you have any advice on writing sunday?? been trying to write in his pov for like, days now and i feel i'm making him too generic tbh

Hi Psyscio! I apologize for the slight delay in writing this, I've just been a bit occupied with irl things ^^; I do hope you find these helpful!

— FOR POINT OF VIEW

Based on significance, we can divide Sunday's character thus far in three parts : early childhood, Bronze Melodia period and Oak Family Head.

The Stellaron disaster was undoubtedly the spark that ignited his later concerns. We see from the conversation about the Charmony dove that Sunday was an empathetic and inquisitive boy, albeit, his concerns mostly centered around others.

During his Bronze Melodia days, the segment where he's questioning Ena (I assume), we see a sort of overlap between concerns for himself and for others. It seems that he's projecting the doubts, insecurities and helplessness he feels for himself through the suffering that he's observed in the outer world. We can also see this as a kind of a protective barrier.

This is the time where he's already reached his conclusion and has started (or has already finished) the planning for the utopian dreamscape. One point which I think is very important to remember is that, despite how he presents himself, a small part of him has always doubted this method. But since he was never able to share his ideas with others (since they'd expose his entanglement with the Order) and since Gopher Wood never addressed the faulty nature of them, he wasn't able to think deeper into them. Which is why, even during his boss fight, he's inviting the Astral Express to prove him wrong — to give evidence to the doubts he's always had.

After these three, we have post-Penacony-arc Sunday. He isn't going to be a completely different person, of course. From the snippets we've gotten so far, we see this pattern : Sunday reminisces about [x] thing and how he used to do that in the past, he comments that there's no need to be as rigid as he used to be but he isn't completely ready to fully embrace that and circles back to his previous belief. Which is fine, old habits are never easy to get rid of.

When you listen to Sunday's ideas, you'll find yourself simultaneously agreeing and disagreeing. Similarly, there's a sense of obscurity in the flow of his emotions. This is intentional of course. So, I think it's alright if you notice this convolution while writing him. Emotions and thoughts are abstract by nature. But the way I'd recommend doing this, is pointing out that vagueness after that flow or an action has passed.

Thanks to Sunday's Myriad Celestia, we know that there's a sense of discord between his inner voices. We see him as both the interrogator and the answerer. The former appears to be firm, harsh and disappointed, while the latter appears nostalgic, remorseful and tired. You can use these voices to address his inner conflict.

Speaking of inner conflict, I think it's one of the most powerful tools you can use to write his perspective. I recommend not dodging it.

I've personally never agreed on the opinion of Sunday being delusional. He's quite lucid and we've received many hints of it. There's a difference between just being aware of something and acting upon that awareness. Sunday has many restraints that prevent him from acting, but it doesn't mean that he's ignorant. Oftentimes, the truth is just in his peripheral, but he can't bring himself to look at it due to a lack of support.

Sunday probably overdoses on psychoanalyzing people. Luckily, perceptive characters are very versatile. Now, I think Sunday prefers to see the best in everyone, unless he's been pushed far enough or has a particular history with an individual, he isn't one to harbor antagonist thoughts about someone. According to this post, Halovians can read the minds of people within a certain distance and use telepathy to communicate with other Halovians. Consider how you might use these together.

I like to have this mental image that Sunday is always holding onto a set number of ‘straws’ in his head. Events and people gradually come, ‘snap’ those metaphorical straws and he allows them to, to an extent — until he's left grasping onto the last of them. Use a mix of allegories and ‘telling’ to illustrate this.

— FOR BASIC CHARACTERIZATION

Sunday is in the ‘emotions revealed through unintentional body language’ group. But I think, when he's confronted with unwanted emotions, he gets even more rigid and guarded (as we saw during that scene with Gallagher). There's the popular hc that his wings flutter in certain ways in response to emotions, so, you can use that as well.

Sunday often thinks about the collective instead of the individual, which is sensible considering he's a leader and all. A romantic interest will challenge this, you can use the ways he breaks his own rules to illustrate how deep his investment in the person goes.

I think having a reader who makes him feel safe or understands him can save you a good amount of emotional turmoil. But of course, I also believe in unexpected pairings. Trust that Sunday, being who he is, can always find something worth appreciating about anyone.

One of the most fascinating things I've observed about Sunday are the similarities between him and Aventurine, as addressed by Ratio. Studying them side by side was very fruitful for me.

For resources to better understand Sunday, I recommend this video and this video.

— FOR DIALOGUE

I mentioned this in my Aventurine post, but in case you missed it, there's this channel that compiles character dialogues individually which can be helpful if you're seeking to refresh your memory. However, I'd like to add here that listening to how a character interacts with others ; as in, how they respond to what, can be even more useful for dialogues.

I've only observed Sunday's English voiceover so I'm not sure how the performance differs in other languages. Based on my observation, Sunday prefers to maintain a gentle, almost airy tone. This appears to be a result of practice though. Sometimes his manner of speech gives this impression that he's viewing you from an elevated space, where he's seeing everything about you. We hear his true voice when the people he cares about are in danger, or, when he's alone with his thoughts.

— MISC. TIPS

Sunday may appear hypocritical, you'll notice dissonance between his words, actions and subconscious — which is okay, characters and people aren't meant to be flawless. What you need to remember is that all of these discrepancies are intentional and results of his upbringing.

Sunday has been groomed by Gopher Wood for the Order's propaganda. In addition, he has survivor's guilt, religious trauma, trust and attachment issues and (possibly) Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Do your research on how these affect people in relationships.

It's okay if you struggle to fully grasp his character, he isn't understood within the game either. In my opinion, it's a very well done representation of how little we'll know about other people. Fiction allows us to gaze into the inner world of a character and see them from different perspectives. This isn't possible in reality and that's okay. Approach Sunday's character with an objective mindset, because the beauty of his writing is not centralized, but scattered.

#writing tips #sunday #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #hsr x reader #abyssmal-skies #this got longer than i expected :')#sunday aventurine and dr ratio are my GOATS of hsr writing so i'm always down for yapping about them ehe #honkai star rail x reader #yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader

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dreamscapeee222 · 2 days ago

Note

Could you write how Arcane characters react to reader having autism?

A/n: I had to do my research with this request. I hope my work had suited what you had in mind :)

You have Autism

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi’s protective instincts kick in immediately when she sees you struggling in sensory-heavy environments. Whether it’s the overwhelming noise of Zaun or an overcrowded market, she doesn’t hesitate to step in.

“C’mon, we’re out of here,” she mutters, shielding you from the chaos with her body as she guides you to a quieter space. Her hand never leaves yours, grounding you through her steady presence.

She’s quick to pick up on your boundaries and preferences, always respecting your need for personal space or silence. If you stim, she finds it endearing and will sometimes mimic your movements to make you smile.

On tough days, she’ll invite you to box with her. “Punching things is my therapy. You’re welcome to join,” she says with a grin.

Jinx

Jinx is fascinated by how your brain works, asking endless questions that range from thoughtful to downright bizarre. “Wait, do you think in pictures or words? What’s it like in there? Can I see?” she asks, tapping your temple with a playful smirk.

When she notices you getting overstimulated, she whisks you away with a manic energy that’s surprisingly calming. “Let’s ditch this mess. I’ve got fireworks to show you.”

She builds you sensory-friendly contraptions—colorful toys with spinning gears or soothing textures. “Made this for you! Better than scratching your arm, right?”

Jinx is chaotic but deeply empathetic. She’ll always find a way to make you laugh, even on the hardest days.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s keen observational skills make her a perfect support system. She notices your discomfort before you even say a word. “It’s getting loud in here. Shall we take a walk?” she offers, her voice calm and reassuring.

She prepares in advance for any outing, ensuring you have a clear plan and an escape route if things become overwhelming.

If you’re ever nonverbal, Caitlyn communicates with patience and understanding, offering written notes or gestures to bridge the gap.

She values your input, often seeking your perspective on investigations. “You have a way of noticing details others overlook. That’s what makes you exceptional.”

Ekko

Ekko embraces your differences, seeing your unique perspective as an asset. When you point out patterns or offer insights others miss, he grins and says, “See? That’s why I need you around.”

If you’re overwhelmed, he’ll take you to his favorite rooftop hideout, where the chaos of Zaun feels far away. “Breathe. Just look at the stars with me,” he says softly.

He encourages you to express yourself however you feel comfortable, never rushing you. If you stim, he joins in, turning it into a game to lighten the mood. “Is this how you do it? Am I doing it right?”

Jayce

Jayce is eager to learn everything about autism, spending hours researching how he can better support you. He’ll excitedly share his findings. “Did you know stimming helps regulate emotions? I think that’s amazing!”

He’s openly affectionate and quick to reassure you when you feel out of place. “Hey, you’re not ‘too much’ or ‘not enough.’ You’re perfect as you are.”

When you have sensory issues, he makes adjustments without a second thought. “We’ll dim the lights, lower the volume, whatever you need. Just say the word.”

His enthusiasm for your quirks makes you feel truly appreciated and loved.

Viktor

Viktor admires your unique way of seeing the world. “Your mind is extraordinary,” he says earnestly, often seeking your input on his projects.

If you struggle with overstimulation, he creates a peaceful environment in his lab, complete with soft lighting and gentle music. “This should help ease your mind,” he says, offering you a small, intricate gadget to fidget with.

He’s incredibly patient, always encouraging you to take your time. If you have trouble communicating, Viktor never pushes, quietly waiting until you’re ready. “There’s no rush. I’m here,” he assures you.

Viktor finds your differences inspiring, often expressing how much he values your perspective.

Mel

Mel approaches your needs with quiet sophistication, ensuring your comfort without making a spectacle of it. At formal events, she subtly arranges for a private space where you can retreat if things become too much. “I thought you might appreciate some quiet,” she says with a knowing smile.

She takes the time to understand your boundaries, always respecting them while gently encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone.

If you’re overwhelmed, Mel’s calming presence helps you refocus. “Breathe with me,” she says softly, her hand resting lightly on yours.

Mel celebrates your unique traits, often remarking, “Your perspective is a gift. It’s what sets you apart—and I wouldn’t change a thing."

See pinned.

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senascoop · 23 hours ago

Text

☁︎ . , TELL YOU WHAT? , S.JY !

PAIRING: fiance ! jake × drunk ! afab reader. SYNOPSIS: getting drunk in hopes to escape your engagement and the sadness that came with it—you turned to a stranger or maybe... your fiance. GENRE: fluff, drabble. WORD COUNT: 541. [LIBRARY]

♫︎ REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

You had thought sneaking out of your engagement party to get drunk in the garden was a brilliant idea. A freeing, rebellious decision. No one would notice, you had convinced yourself. But as usual, life had other plans—and so did Jake, your brand-new fiancé, who somehow found you curled up on the grass, your pristine dress now speckled with dirt.

“There you are,” he sighed, sitting down beside you with a mix of relief and mild exasperation. “You do realize there’s an entire party looking for you, right?”

You waved him off lazily, blinking up at the night sky. “The stars don’t judge,” you slurred, the alcohol working its magic, “unlike Aunt Minji and her ‘oh, so you’re the bride?’ looks.”

Jake chuckled softly, brushing a speck of grass off your shoulder. “Well, Aunt Minji doesn’t have to marry you. I do.”

You turned to him with a mock glare, your cheeks flushed—not just from the wine. “You don’t have to,” you said, hiccupping slightly. “But if you want to, you should know I have a secret.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning in playfully. “Do tell, my mysterious fiancée.”

You sat up dramatically, nearly toppling over in the process. “I weigh over 45 kilograms!” you announced, as if it were the most shocking revelation in the world. “And—and,” you added, your voice dropping into a whisper, “my chest is still flat!”

Jake froze, caught somewhere between disbelief and laughter. But it was the way your bottom lip wobbled, your eyes welling up with tears of tragic sincerity, that pushed him over the edge. He burst out laughing.

“You’re laughing?!” you cried, your voice a mix of betrayal and drunken indignation. Tears spilled over as you sniffled. “You don’t have it either! How dare you judge me?”

That was it. Jake had to press his hand over his mouth to stop the laughter threatening to spill out, but he couldn’t quite manage it.

“Okay, okay,” he said, scooting closer as you dramatically flopped backward onto the grass, staring up at the sky like a tragic heroine in a period drama. “You’re right. I don’t have it either. We’re even.”

You sniffled again, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your very expensive dress. “We’re both... flat,” you mumbled, your voice quivering. “What a sad couple we make.”

Jake sighed, leaning over you, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Hey, it’s not sad,” he said, his voice gentle but laced with amusement. “It’s… balanced. And you’re perfect, even if you’re drunk out of your mind right now.”

You squinted up at him, your lips curling into a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”

Jake smirked, offering you his hand. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m saying it because you’re the funniest drunk I’ve ever met. Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up before Aunt Minji sends a search party.”

Reluctantly, you let him pull you up, leaning against him as you stumbled. “Fine,” you muttered. “But only because you admitted you’re flat too.”

Jake laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. “Deal. Now let’s get back before you decide to share any more of our secrets with the stars.”

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my-castles-crumbling · 9 hours ago

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Regulus's Amortentia

Hey guys! Someone requested I do some writing exploring the ways Amortentia can smell (that it doesn't always reflect romantic love) so I decided to so a series of microfics about it! I'm hoping to get a few of them done today.

Eight

The first time Regulus smelled the potion was when he was young. His father had always been an experienced and talented potioneer, something he passed down to his son, and so when the eight-year-old smelled the clear liquid, he already knew what it was.

He didn't know what it smelled like.

It was a vague smell, out of reach even when he breathed deeply, a hint of something, but not enough for him to grasp it.

He fled the room when his father caught him and yelled loud enough to make the cauldron rattle.

Twelve

Being taken under Slughorn's wing was a blessing and a curse. The tutelage of a Professor allowed him respite from the confusion of his house-- the push and pull of his kind friends and the strong ideas of those in years above him. But he also knew he was ostracizing himself by labelling himself the teacher's pet.

It was one day as he hid in Slughorn's study that he happened upon the cauldron again.

This time, he recognized the smell.

Cut grass and old leather. The scent of Sirius's hair potion that he always caught in his nostrils when his older brother pulled him into a secret hug when his parents weren't looking. A strange whiff of warmth, like the fire in the dorm he shared with Barty and Evan, and the smell of Pandora's sage she constantly burnt.

Fifteen

This time, he smelled it when he was stopping someone else from consuming it. Some horrible, sleazy seventh-years had been spiking the drinks of younger girls as a joke, enjoying the chaos of watching them run amok with love. So he'd taken to sniffing Pandora and Dorcas's drinks before they ate, just in case.

It was in Pandora's pumpkin juice that he caught the tendrils of the same hair potion, warmth, and sage as two years ago. But now, a new scent joined. The smell of the showers after Quidditch practice, the spicy soap that an older boy used. An older boy Regulus tried desperately not to look at.

Blushing profusely, Regulus took the drink up to the professors, reporting the potion.

Sixteen

The first time he encountered the potion in his studies was shortly after his first huge fight with his parents. They'd found out about how he'd reported the older Slytherins, and how he thought more about boys than girls. Sirius had left that previous summer, and Regulus had followed behind. His entire world had been turned on its axis.

And he'd also spent time with someone new. Someone with circular glasses and infuriatingly messy hair.

He shouldn't have been surprised, when the smell accosted his nostrils. When he stepped into the classroom and breathed deeply to inhale small scents of smoke and hair potion and leather and sage.

And sunshine.

He couldn't explain it, but the scent of the sun overpowered everything else, nearly knocking him backward.

And he shouldn't have been surprised.

But still, he gasped with the knowledge that not only did he love his brother and his friends, but he was in love.

With James Potter.

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dan-the-womans-blog · 3 days ago

Text

Title: Crack in Their Composure

Feeling a little better thought I'd post something funny

(Spencer Reid x fem!reader)

The first incident had been embarrassing enough. The team walking in to find Spencer shirtless, oiled up, and groaning under your care had provided them with enough ammunition for weeks of teasing. But even with all their jokes, Spencer was still Spencer—unflappable in most situations—and you both thought the worst was behind you.

You were wrong.

Spencer came home from another grueling case, this one involving multiple days on the road and more stress than usual. He walked into your shared home looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his slender shoulders, which you noticed were slumped with tension.

“Babe,” you said softly, crossing the room to meet him. You cupped his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “You need another adjustment. You’re completely out of alignment again.”

He nodded without protest, too tired to argue. “You’re the best,” he murmured, letting you guide him to the office once more.

This time, you were determined to work out every knot, every misalignment. Spencer’s job might be to solve complex cases, but yours was to fix him afterward, both body and mind.

---

Meanwhile, the team, riding high after a case closed, decided once again to check in on their favorite genius. They’d teased him mercilessly last time, but Spencer’s reactions were half the fun.

“Think he’s going to yell at us this time?” Emily joked as they approached the house.

“Please,” Derek said with a grin. “Boy Wonder doesn’t yell. He pouts.”

Penelope giggled. “I just hope we get another peek at shirtless Spencer.”

“Oh my God, Garcia,” JJ muttered, laughing despite herself.

They knocked, but the door was unlocked. Derek pushed it open, calling out, “Reid! You home?”

No response.

The team wandered farther into the house, following the faint sound of conversation that led them to your office once again. As they reached the doorway, they were immediately greeted with Spencer’s voice—low, drawn-out, and laced with something suspiciously close to pleasure.

“Ohhh, God, Y/N… Right there… Do that again.”

The team froze.

“Spence, relax,” you said, your tone entirely professional. “I can’t get this spot if you keep tensing up.”

“Sorry, it just—ahhh! Oh, that’s the one,” Spencer groaned, his voice so borderline sinful that Derek and Emily exchanged wide-eyed looks.

“Is this… happening again?” JJ whispered, her hand covering her mouth.

“Guys,” Penelope hissed, fanning herself. “This is so much worse.”

But they couldn’t look away.

You were leaning over Spencer, your hands pressing into his back with practiced precision. This time, though, the team wasn’t met with just the sight of an oiled-up Spencer—they also heard the unmistakable, sharp crack of his spine realigning.

“Oh, wow,” Rossi muttered from the back of the group, clearly impressed despite himself.

“Holy… Did you hear that?” Emily whispered, her tone oddly fascinated.

“That sounded so satisfying,” Penelope admitted, biting her lip as another crack echoed through the room, followed by Spencer’s drawn-out groan of relief.

“Stop enjoying this so much,” JJ hissed, though her eyes remained glued to the scene.

Another series of cracks came, each one louder than the last, and the team collectively shuddered. It was oddly satisfying to hear, even as the situation screamed awkward.

Finally, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye and turned, your hands still on Spencer’s shoulder blades. “Oh, come on!” you exclaimed, glaring at the group.

Spencer lifted his head from the table, a blush already creeping up his neck. “Are you serious?”

“Listen,” Derek said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I came here to clown on you, but I gotta admit—that cracking sound is amazing.”

“You guys have to stop walking in on us,” you said, gesturing at the door.

“You have to stop making it sound like—like that!” Emily shot back, pointing at Spencer, who groaned in embarrassment and dropped his face back into the cradle.

“You all clearly need to leave,” you said firmly, stepping back from the table and crossing your arms.

But Penelope clasped her hands together. “Y/N, just one question before we go.”

“What?” you asked, exasperated.

“Do you take appointments?”

"OUT!"

Spencer groaned louder, and this time, they burst out laughing.

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mononijikayu · 2 days ago

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cure — ryomen sukuna.

"I’ll write you the best songs, little lamb. Even better than what I already gave you." he promised to you. His tone was softer than usual. "Songs so good they’ll make the stars jealous." “You are making quite big promises, don’t you think?” You tease him, giggling as you read over his newest piece. “This would make the stars jealous.” "Yeah, because they’re our songs." he’d say, his smirk softening as he handed you another crumpled page. "No one else gets to have something as good as this. Not even the stars. Only you.”

GENRE: alternate universe - alien stage au;

WARNING/S: dead dove do not eat, nsfw (not safe for work), alien invasion, heavy angst, romance, conflicted feelings, dehumanization, hurt/comfort, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, humor, guilt, trauma, pining, complicated relationship, emotional distress, grief, canon related violence, emotional abuse, physical abuse, social isolation, depiction of character death, depiction of dehumanization, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of emotional and physical abuse, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, mention of dehumanization;

WORD COUNT: 16k words

NOTE: this was supposed to be posted much earlier but my glasses broke and i have to wear contact lenses, but its rough. my eyes hurt but i wanted to put this out there for yall. i need to get new frames for my glasses, so let's hope i can do that later or tomorrow!!! i adore alien stage and i was really stuck on stage 6, which is ivantill going at it. and so i wanted to write about it in a fic, but with sukuna. this is not an easy thing for people to read as alien stage explores a lot of dynamics, including dehumanization, trauma, violence and other things. so please be careful, i tagged what it containsfor a reason!!! in any case, i think you'll be able to read nanami's much easier. i hope you continue to look forward to it!!! anyway, i'll see you then. i love you all <3

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 2000;

if you want to, tip! <3

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

YOU’VE ALWAYS WONDERED ABOUT STARS. Everything about them is a curiosity to you, a mystery waiting to be unraveled. The stars, once distant and unknowable, had always felt like something you could only admire from afar—faint whispers of a universe too vast to comprehend, scattered far beyond the grasp of your outstretched hand.

But then the aliens arrived, and the stars transformed. They were no longer untouchable pinpricks in the night sky; they became tangible, living, breathing beings.

And one of them, Starlight, became more than a friend, more than a visitor from the cosmos. They became yours. Not in the way one claims possession of something, but in the way their very presence seemed to stitch itself into the fabric of your existence.

Starlight was radiant, their shimmering, soft luminescence enveloping you like a gentle embrace. Their light didn’t burn; it soothed, warm and alive. They spoke not with words, but with a gentle hum that resonated deep in your chest, as though they were singing to the very rhythm of your heart. When they were near, the world felt softer, brighter. They were your everything, your universe, encapsulating all of your childish self.

Their curiosity mirrored your own, eyes (or something like them) wide as they marveled at the simplest human things: the way you brewed tea, the way the rain danced against your window, the way you laughed when you thought no one was listening. And in return, you marveled at them. They were a marvel, a being from the stars. And yet somehow so achingly familiar to you.

Every moment you both shared felt like secrets whispered between galaxies.It was endless excitement, especially for you who was still growing into yourself.

They would lift a glowing hand to the sky, and the stars would twinkle in reply, as if winking just for you. And when the weight of life pressed too heavily on your shoulders, when you missed home — you were reminded that you were already home. Because you were with Starlight.

Starlight was unlike anyone you’d ever known. Their presence was a tapestry of light and sound, shifting and shimmering in ways that no human words could fully capture. They were, without a doubt, the kindest of all the aliens you’d encountered—something you hadn’t thought possible in your tumultuous travels across the stars.

They never looked down on you, never acted superior. They never raised their voice or lashed out, never gave you cause to cry or to feel small. No, Starlight was different. They listened, truly listened, and their responses carried a patience and understanding that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

And they had this way of making you smile, even when you thought the weight of the universe would crush you. It was as though their very essence carried an unspoken promise: You are not alone.

You weren’t sure when it started, but somehow, you began to notice that you made them smile too. Well, if "smile" was the right word for the way their luminous form would pulse and shimmer with vibrant, joyful hues. It wasn’t until the day you sang that you truly understood how much you’d touched them.

You had been sitting by the viewing port, staring out at the swirling nebulae, the colors dancing in the void. The melody had come to you unbidden, a quiet hum at first, then blooming into words you hadn’t sung since you were a child. Your voice filled the chamber, mingling with the hum of the ship's systems. It wasn’t a grand performance, just something small and raw. But it was enough.

When you turned, Starlight was there. They were looking at you, their form trembling with flickering pulses of color you’d never seen before. It was awe-striking to see for the first time, who they truly are.

Those vibrant deep ambers and rich violets that seemed to ripple like a heartbeat. Their light dimmed for a moment as though catching its breath. Then, their glow intensified, and you realized they were weeping.

Tears? Could they cry? You’d never thought to ask before.

“Starlight?” you asked hesitantly, standing. “Did I... do something wrong?”

They stepped—or rather, floated—closer, their luminescence washing over you in a gentle cascade. They shook their heads at you, almost too reassuringly. Their hand rested against your head and traced the strings of your hair with soothing echoes.

“Wrong?” Their voices vibrated like chimes caught in a soft breeze. “No, little one. What you’ve done is beyond beautiful.”

You tilted your head, still unsure. “But... you’re crying?”

They seemed to shimmer with quiet laughter at your confusion. “Your voice.” they said, “it carries something special. It reminds me of home, of frequencies long since lost to my kind.”

“Lost?” you echoed, sitting back down. “How can sound be lost?”

“It’s not just sound, little one.” Starlight explained, their glow shifting into softer, warmer tones. “It’s emotion, memory. My people... we’ve forgotten how to feel them as you do. Your song brought them back, if only for a moment.”

You felt your cheeks flush red, unsure how to respond to such an overwhelming compliment. “I-I see. But I….I still did not want to….I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Their light brightened again, wrapping you in warmth. “Tears are not always sorrow, my dear little one. Sometimes they are the purest form of joy.”

For a while, you both sat in silence, the vastness of space your only witness. Then, tentatively, you asked, “Would you like to hear another song?”

Starlight’s form pulsed with an eager glow ethereally happy. “I would be honored.”

Over time, you grew fonder of that voice of yours. That voice of yours that harmonizes to what the other aliens called singing. What once felt like a mere habit became a passion, nurtured by the joy Starlight showed in your songs. Starlight delighted you in every way they could, bringing melodies from across the cosmos to inspire you.

They filled your world with sounds and instruments. At times, they would bring you little boxes they often called on Earth as music boxes. You had to crank it up over and over to hear those little sounds hum its tune.

You don’t remember much about Earth at all, but those melodies were haunting refrains from distant moons, rhythmic pulses from pulsar dances. They were beautiful. At times you wondered, is this what Earth people like?

You were thankful for everything Starlight would do for you. In return, you wanted to delight them too. So, you tried your best all the time, to sing. You sang for Starlight’s guests—beings of every shape, size, and light. And with time, they too grew fond of your voice.

Their praises were frequent, full of admiration. Their luminescent forms often shifted with excitement as they spoke about you after your performances. That’s when the whispers began from each and everyone of them when they came around. They tried to be quiet, but they were always loud enough to be heard. Not only by you, but ever so clearly, your Starlight.

“Bring your pet to the Alien Stage.” they’d say to Starlight, their voices rippling like waves. “Surely, they’d win the crowd over.”

The first time someone said it, you noticed the subtle change in Starlight’s glow—a flicker, almost imperceptible. Their eyes, usually brimming with warmth, grew wide with tension. They would shake their head in a proud, head-strong manner.

“No.” they said simply, their tone firm, though the words hummed low, almost mournful. “I will not.”

But none of them were deterred by each refusal. If anything, that only made the urge stronger, with each and every time you sang in their presence. Each time the suggestion came up, however, Starlight’s refusal was the same, unwavering. Each time, it was a hard pressing refusal. Over and over again, it was — “No.”

At first, you didn’t think much of it. You didn’t even know what Alien Stage was. But as the guests chatted, your curiosity grew. You overheard them talking with excitement about the performances, the music, the awe-inspiring singers from every corner of the universe.

They’d list the names of their favorites, their voices buzzing with admiration. Some even mentioned their own “pets” performing there, beings like you, brought to the stage to dazzle the multitudes.

Your eyes widened at every detail. The way they spoke of it made the stage sound like a dream. This seemed like a place where voices transcended worlds, where songs could echo through the cosmos itself.

You started to imagine yourself there, standing before an audience of countless beings, your voice reaching further than you ever thought possible. Maybe Starlight would be proud of you. Maybe they’d adore you even more if you proved your worth on that stage.

One day, your resolve solidified. You approached Starlight, your heart pounding with nervous excitement. “I want to sing for others. Not just for you, but for everyone. I want to sing on that stage. And make them as happy as I had made you!”

The moment the words left your lips, Starlight’s glow dimmed, their light trembling like a flickering flame caught in a draft. It was the first time you’d ever seen them falter. “You don’t understand what you’re asking, little one.” they murmured, their usually harmonious voice tinged with unease.

“Why not?” you asked, stepping closer. “I want to share my voice with everyone too, Starlight. Isn’t that what music is for?”

Their glow wavered, their colors shifting to muted tones. “The Alien Stage... it’s not kind. It’s not about music, not truly. It's a spectacle. You are not a spectacle. You’re not a commodity, certainly not my pet, no matter how they insist so. I won’t let them turn you into something you are not.”

You blinked, taken aback. “But... the others, your friends—they said their pets perform there. They’re fine, aren’t they?”

Starlight’s light flared briefly, a rare burst of frustration. “Fine? Is that what they told you? Do you know what happens when the universe gets bored of a song? When will the novelty fades?” They quieted, their voice dropping to a near whisper. “You’re my melody. My little one. I won’t let you be taken from me.”

Their words stung, but you couldn’t let go of the yearning in your heart. “My songs aren’t meant to stay here, Starlight. They’re like you—meant to travel, to touch others, to spark something in their hearts. Don’t you see? This is what I want.”

For a long moment, silence hung between you, heavy and unyielding. Then, finally, Starlight dimmed further, their light softening into a pale, reluctant glow. They looked distraught, nervous. They seemed to look close to tears.

“If this is truly what you desire, little one.” they said, their voice trembling. “Then I will take you somewhere to help you. But promise me, no matter what happens, you’ll remember that you’re more than a song. You’re more than what they might try to make of you.”

“I promise.” you said, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your chest.

Starlight didn’t respond right away. Instead, they reached out, their light brushing against you in a gesture that felt both protective and sorrowful. You looked up to them, blinking in confusion. At this moment, you still never truly knew what these complex gazes meant. You were still a child, after all.

“Then I will help prepare you for the stage.” they said at last. “But know this: the universe can be a cruel audience.”

You nodded at them. They can only pierce their lips in a tight line. “I’ll send you somewhere safe, where you can learn." they said, their glow dim but steady. "Anakt Garden. They’ll teach you, nurture you. But promise me this: don’t let them take your essence away."

Anakt Garden was unlike anything you’d ever imagined. It was an orbital sanctuary, a massive structure built to mimic nature but filled with the impossible beauty of alien design. The fields glowed faintly, shifting in color as the air pulsed with an almost musical hum. Trees stretched high, their leaves shimmering like glass, and the ground beneath your feet felt soft, warm, alive.

Other children were there. And you realized that they were humans like you. The pets they were talking about like you. You hadn’t expected that all humans were pets. You had only known what Starlight told you about the universe.

Still each human child in their own right was unique in their presence. Some carried the same nervous energy you felt; others radiated confidence. It was comforting, in a way, to see so many dreamers gathered in one place. All of them yearn to sing, as much as you do. That had made you smile for the first time, the first time since parting from Starlight.

And then there was Ryomen Sukuna.

The first time you saw him, he was sitting under one of the bizarre trees, his pink hair like a fuschia flame against the soft glow of the Garden. He seemed at least a bit older than you. But you found him to be a fair face.

He had a presence that demanded attention, his sharp scarlet eyes daring anyone to look away. Where the other children were careful and obedient, Ryomen Sukuna was bold, loud, and entirely unapologetic. And with the way everyone spoke about him, he seemed to be a lone wolf. A persona non grata in a group of these jolly children.

Yet, when you first heard him sing, you were awestruck. You stood there, listening as though he was growing something in you. Like a flower that has been waiting to bloom. Everything in the air shifted when he sang like he was crying out for something to be heard.

Of course, His voice wasn’t polished or restrained; it was raw, powerful, and full of an unyielding intensity. It shook something loose inside you, something you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back. You couldn’t help but gulp, you wanted to be just like him too. You wanted to be as good as him, blessed with such a wonder of a voice too.

Sukuna being good at singing had lit a fire in you, one you hadn’t fully realized was there until now. Watching him perform was like witnessing a storm in motion. It was wild, untamed, and utterly captivating. Everything about him would make anyone feel like the world should revolve around him. And you wanted that too.

You wanted to capture that vibrance too. You wanted to be good. You wanted to make Starlight proud. You wanted to sing. Sing like you were the best in the world. It made you want to push yourself further, to become better, to chase the same freedom he seemed to command so effortlessly.

You started practicing harder than ever, retreating to one of the isolation cells to hone your voice. Day in and day out, you sang, the emptiness of the chamber amplifying your every note. Sometimes you sang until your throat was raw, until your limbs ache from exhaustion. You forgot to eat more often than you cared to admit, too focused on perfecting your craft.

And yet, despite all your effort, you knew you were holding back. It wasn’t hard to tell that you were. And that frustrated you to no end. It wasn’t that you couldn’t reach those soaring heights or push into the raw, emotional depths you heard in Sukuna’s voice. It was that you didn’t let yourself.

Of course, Ryomen Sukuna was quick to notice.

With those sharp eyes of his, he always noticed.

“You’re good.” he said to you one day, his tone deceptively casual.

He leaned against the doorway to the cell, arms crossed, his sharp scarlet gaze cutting through you like a blade.You couldn’t help but glance up from where you sat on the cold sterile floor, startled. You hadn’t heard him come in.

“Thank you.” you muttered, unsure how to take the compliment.

“But you’re holding back.” he added, his voice laced with amusement as he stepped closer. His smirk was as infuriating as it was challenging. “Why?”

You hesitated, your heart sinking under the weight of Starlight’s words—the warnings, the fear in their trembling light. You wanted to sing, you wanted to be the best. But you had to be true to what your Starlight said. You had to.

“I don’t want to disappoint my guardian.” you admitted quietly. “They’re afraid I’ll lose myself if I go too far.”

Sukuna tilted his head, studying you like you were a puzzle he was halfway to solving. Then he snorted, his grin widening into something both cocky and strangely reassuring. It was almost irritating. And yet, he had the right to be smug. He had it all figured out. All too well.

“Lose yourself? You? Nah.” He crouched down to your level, his crimson eyes locking onto yours. “If anything, you’re too afraid to find yourself.”

The words hit harder than you expected, leaving you speechless. Ryomen Sukuna laughs for a moment before he leaned in closer, his laughter dying down. It was soon replaced by a sly smirk softening into something that almost felt like encouragement.

“You’ve got fire in you, you know that?” he said, his voice low but insistent. “I can hear it in your voice, even when you try to hide it. You’re scared of what happens if you let it out, aren’t you?”

You opened your mouth to argue but stopped. He wasn’t wrong. Some of the people here are favorites of many aliens who had come to Starlight’s home as guests. And Sukuna was one of them. And some of them whispered here about what the contest was like. Even more, you were without Starlight. They won’t be coming back until the next visiting day.

He was right, he seems to always be right. You were afraid, sometimes feeling that fear of the unknown. That lack of security. That echo of loneliness. Of course you were scared.. You were but a child. And you don’t know much about this world.

“It’s not about them.” he continued, his tone firm now. “Not your guardian, not the stage, not anyone else. It’s about you. You wanted to join because you wanted to sing, right? Then do it for yourself.”

Your brows furrowed. “But I—”

“No ifs, no buts. You’ve got something special, something that deserves to be heard. And if you keep locking it away, you’re not just letting them down—you’re letting yourself down.”

His words lingered in the air, a challenge and a promise all at once.You swallowed hard, feeling a spark of something new—courage, maybe, or defiance. Is it all that, you wonder? Or is just a phantom of a feeling. You didn’t know, truly. But his words made you feel like a fire was burning inside of you. And even if you didn’t know what it was…..at least it was there, long enough to keep you from sorrows.

“And what if I let it out and it’s not enough?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sukuna’s smirk turned into a genuine smile, rare and disarming. “Then you keep going. You mess up, you fall, you sing again. That’s how you find your edge. That’s how you find you.”

He straightened up, his presence still larger than life even as he turned to leave. “Next time I hear you, lamb.” Sukuna called over his shoulder, causing you to blink as he called you a new name. “Don’t hold back. Let the fire burn.”

You sat there in the quiet for a long time after he left, his words echoing in your mind. Maybe Ryomen Sukuna was right. Maybe it was time to stop holding yourself back. Maybe it’s time to let that fire you feel be more than just a feeling. You took a deep breath, and looked at your music sheets again. It was time to practice once more.

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YOU FIND THAT YOU DWELL IN THE SAME AXIS AS SUKUNA. Somehow, you and Sukuna understood each other better than most in the Garden. It wasn’t something either of you spoke about outright. Well, there was no place for that here, after all.

So, there were no flowery declarations of kinship or shared confessions under the stars. But it was there, an unspoken connection that threaded between your interactions, subtle yet undeniable.

At first glance, it didn’t make much sense at all. You couldn’t be more different. Sukuna, with his razor-sharp confidence and unapologetic boldness, seemed to command the space around him, every action deliberate and brimming with power. You, on the other hand, felt smaller, quieter, more uncertain of your place among the dazzling figures who roamed the Garden.

And yet, despite your differences or maybe because of them, you felt natural around each other. Conversations flowed without effort, even in their silences. He could sit beside you, offering no more than a teasing smirk or a dry comment, and you wouldn’t feel the need to fill the quiet with needless words. Somehow, it was enough just to share the same space, like two stars orbiting the same unseen gravity.

Perhaps it was the way you each carried something hidden beneath the surface, something you rarely shared with others. Sukuna, for all his bluster, carried a weight in his eyes, a history that lingered in the way he sometimes stared into the distance, his smirk slipping into something more thoughtful. You had your own burdens, your own doubts, ones you tried to shield behind polite smiles and quiet resolve.

It wasn’t that you talked about those things. At least not directly. But there were moments, fleeting and unguarded, where the weight of what you both carried seemed to align. In those moments, you’d catch him watching you, his gaze softer than usual, as though he saw through the walls you’d built. And you knew, somehow, that you could see through him too.

Even when your worlds didn’t overlap most of the time. When his passions and his sharp-edged confidence clashed with your quieter, more careful nature, there was still some well founded common ground in the simplicity of understanding. There was no judgment between you, no need to prove yourselves to one another.

Sukuna didn’t try to push you into his shadow, and you didn’t shrink from the light he cast. And perhaps, that’s what you liked the most about him. He didn’t change anything with how he treated you or how he interacted with you. He was just himself. And you were just who you were.

For all the chaos and politics surrounding the Garden, where alliances shifted like the wind and friendships often felt transactional, what you had with Ryomen Sukuna was refreshingly uncomplicated. It wasn’t about competition or gaining favor. It was just... real.

And maybe that’s why, despite having little in common, you felt natural with him. You didn’t need to explain yourselves to each other. Somehow, you just knew.That was for the better, if you were truly saying it bluntly.

The shimmering beauty of Anakt Garden couldn’t hide its truth: it was a terrifyingly stifling place. Every moment was monitored, every move scrutinized by the alien caretakers. Their intentions were kind, but their constant observation weighed heavy, leaving you feeling like a butterfly pinned under glass.

Ryomen Sukuna hated it. He wouldn’t even be here if his guardian wasn’t insistent on making use of him like a pet who made him a lot of money— of course, just as much to isolate him from the scandals and troubles he creates as a performer.

You heard rumors about all of that, but you weren’t sure if they were true. You don’t want to cross a boundary with Sukuna, something he was unwilling to talk about as much as something he never truly decides to talk to you about.

But it was obvious in all the other ways, you suppose. You could see it in the way his jaw tightened whenever the caretakers hovered too long, their cold, clinical voices reminding you to stay on schedule, to follow their precise instructions. He never said anything outright in their presence, but the tension in his body was impossible to miss. His hands would curl into loose fists, his eyes narrowing like he was fighting the urge to lash out.

It wasn’t just their commands that grated on him—it was their entire approach. The way they treated you, and everyone else in the Garden, as projects, toys to play with rather than souls who deserve respect.

To this part of the galaxy, human children were their tools to be honed, performances to be perfected. You didn’t need to ask how he felt about it; his disdain was evident in every clipped word and icy glare he threw their way and how much he does not care for their discipline and in the worst cases, punishment.

You worry about him, about his defiances. But you know he’s been through this before, and he was a veteran. Ryomen Sukuna has lived through the experience. You could see it in his eyes, how much he hated the Garden. And just as much, how much he hated how this is affecting you. He hated seeing you go through this too.

One evening, after a particularly grating session where the caretakers had spent far too long critiquing your pitch and posture, you found Sukuna waiting for you under one of the glowing trees in the Garden. The soft luminescence of the tree’s branches cast him in an almost ethereal light, though the storm cloud brewing in his expression was anything but serene.

He didn’t say anything at first as you approached slowly, just patted the ground beside him in an unspoken invitation. You sat, letting out a long sigh, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders.

“They don’t get it.” Sukuna muttered finally, breaking the silence. His voice was low, angry, but there was an edge of frustration that wasn’t entirely aimed at the caretakers. “They think they can mold us into their stupid little visions.”

You glanced at him, his face partially obscured by the shadows of the tree’s light. “Maybe that’s just how they think things work.” you said softly, even though you didn’t fully believe your own words. “They’re just trying to help us... be better.”

Sukuna snorted, his lip curling into a derisive smirk. “Help? Is that what you call it, little lamb? Barking orders, telling you to strip everything raw until there’s nothing left but their idea of ‘perfect’? Yeah, really helpful.”

You didn’t reply right away. There was truth in what he said, he knew it more than you. That was the truth of that. But the caretakers had a way of making you feel like you couldn’t question them, like they knew what was best.

And even then, you were the one who wanted to be here in the first place. You had asked Starlight to let you be on that stage, happily so. You wanted to sing for the universe. For all the galaxies to see and hear. You chose your poison, your suffering. You had to make your bed and deal with it too.

Sukuna turned to you then, his sharp gaze piercing through your silence. “You’re already perfect, okay? Don’t listen to them, little lamb.” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “They just can’t see it.”

The words caught you off guard, scarlet warmth rising to your cheeks despite the weight in your chest. “I’m not... I mean, I’m trying to be better.” you stammered, looking away. “I want to be good enough.”

He leaned closer, his expression softening just a fraction. “Good enough for who? Them? You think their approval is worth breaking yourself over?”

You hesitated, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “I just... I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened again, but this time his anger felt different. You were good at reading his emotions by now. You had seen his eyes too much to not know what they felt. And when it comes to you, they shine with a protective glow almost all the time.

“Listen to me, little lamb.” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You’re not some tool for them to shape, alright? You’ve got something real, something no one else has. Don’t let them take that away from you.”

You met his gaze, unsure of how to respond. There was something raw in his expression, something that felt startlingly vulnerable. For all his bravado, Sukuna wasn’t just angry for the sake of it, he never was. You knew him too well for you not to know that. He genuinely cared.

“Thank you, ‘kuna.” you said quietly, the word feeling small but sincere.

He leaned back against the tree, his smirk returning, though it was softer this time. “Don’t thank me yet. Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t let them dim your light. You’re better than their rules, their schedules. You’re better than all of it.”

His words settled over you like a protective shield, bolstering you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. And as the glow of the tree cast shifting patterns across the ground, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. You want to start thinking that maybe he was right. Maybe you didn’t need their version of perfection. Maybe you could find your own.

With each passing day, his company as much as his protectiveness became your anchor in the Garden’s isolating world. When the pressure of always being watched felt too heavy, Ryomen Sukuna was there to remind you that you weren’t alone. He had a way of drawing you out of your own thoughts, pulling you into his world where the rules didn’t seem to matter.

He started making you little gifts, sometimes when it was the get together activities. He was crude about it but you found that he does endearing work for delicate, endearing things by his own hand for you. He was good at it, with how he cobbled together from whatever he could find around the Garden.

Today, it was a bracelet made of woven grasses that glowed faintly in the dark. A carved fragment of one of the brazenly bright trees, etched with symbols and letters that only he could explain. You gasped as he showed it to you once he was finally done.

"It’s a good luck charm, little lamb. It’s all written in a human language, from long ago. " he said to you tenderly, pressing a small, smooth stone into your hand. It was warm, as if it had been sitting in sunlight. "To keep you safe. You need it here."

But sometimes, it wasn’t just those he gave to you. Sukuna would sometimes write you songs, too. He was more advanced with that than you in his classes. It’s why he sometimes gets bored attending the classes. Sometimes he also teaches you, when there are things that confuse you about the lessons or if they are going too fast.

Sometimes it was hard to read through it all. His thoughts go by so fast that he ends up writing without thinking about it. You giggle sometimes when he hands you page after page to go through them. They were always good songs, of course they were. But his writing was always something that was ever so special about it all.

But his handwriting was messy, scrawled on scraps of paper or even on his own arm when he ran out of space. He would get flustered about it sometimes, too. But you never chastised him for that. If anything, it was because he was born a genius of music.

He was born to create melodies that could move anyone in this life—human or alien. His music wasn’t just sound; it was an experience, a force of nature. It’s why he was a favorite of so many who tuned into Alien Stage.

His songs weren’t polished or rehearsed to the point of sterility. No, they were raw, defiant, and unapologetically alive. Every note, every lyric burned with fire, passion, and a kind of honesty that left no room for pretense.

And yet, for all their intensity, nothing could compare to the moments when he sang just for you. In those moments, the wild edges of his music softened. The defiance was still there, but it felt different. Everything about it was more tender, like an ember rather than a roaring flame.

When he played his guitar, the ink on the page didn’t seem as smudged, the chords didn’t feel as jagged. It was as though the very essence of the music shifted, reshaping itself into something gentler, something just for you.

When he sang for you, it wasn’t about proving anything or conquering the stage. It wasn’t about anyone else. It was personal. It was for his little lamb. And his little lamb, who was the softest voice that tendered anyone’s soul, he was sure to want to do the same. He wanted to make your soul a little less heavier in this stifling place.

“You bring out the quiet in me, little lamb.” he admitted one night, his voice low and almost shy, a stark contrast to his usual boldness.

The two of you sat together under the alien sky, its vibrant hues dancing like living brushstrokes across the horizon. His guitar rested idly on his lap, his fingers brushing absentmindedly over the strings.You tilted your head, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his tone.

“You? Quiet? I don’t believe it, ‘kuna.” you teased, grinning as you nudged his shoulder.

He smirked, though there was an unmistakable softness in his expression. “Don’t get used to it, little lamb.” he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching into something halfway between a grin and a pout. “I’ve got a reputation to keep for all the galaxy, you know.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree. “Oh, I’ll treasure it while it lasts, then. The great Sukuna, soft-spoken and sweet. Who would’ve thought?”

“Careful, now.” he warned, though there was no bite in his words. “Keep talking like that, and I might have to write a song about how annoying you are.”

You gasped in mock offense, placing a hand dramatically over your chest. “Annoying? Me? I’m the one inspiring all this ‘quiet’. I’d like to correct you on that, thank you very much.”

“Fair point, little lamb.” he conceded, chuckling as he leaned back on his hands. He glanced at you then, his crimson eyes catching the light of the sky, and for a moment, he looked at peace.

“I always make good points.” You giggled back at him.

“But don’t go thinking this is all for you.” he added, his voice playful but his gaze lingering on yours. “It’s just... easier when you’re around. The chaos doesn’t feel so loud.”

Your laughter softened, fading into a gentle smile. “Maybe it’s because you don’t have to be anything but yourself when you’re with me.”

He stilled, his expression unreadable for a moment, before he let out a quiet hum. “Yeah, I suppose.” he said finally, almost to himself. “Maybe that’s it.”

And as the vast expanse of the foreign sky shimmered above you, you couldn’t help but think that whatever quiet he found in your presence, it was mutual. Something about him, about these stolen moments, made the rest of the universe feel distant and unimportant. It was just you, him, and the melody he always seemed to carry.

For just a moment, the Garden didn’t feel so heavy tonight.

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YOU WERE SURPRISED AT YOUR PROGRESS. Just as much, everyone else was too. The caretakers and the teachers began to notice the shift in you. It was impossible for them not to. Your voice had grown stronger, more confident, and your performances carried a depth they hadn’t seen before from you.

They praised you for your progress, their clinical smiles and approving nods a stark contrast to their usual detached demeanor. But their accolades rang hollow. They had no idea that their rigid schedules and suffocating structure weren’t the reason for your growth. It wasn’t their drills or corrections that had helped you blossom. All that work was done by Ryomen Sukuna.

When you felt like the weight of their expectations was too much to bear, Sukuna was the one who reminded you of the fire burning within you. When doubt crept into your mind, whispering that you’d never be good enough, it was Sukuna who sat with you under the glowing trees and told you to keep going.

“They can watch us all they want, little lamb.” Sukuna said to you, with a furrowed brow.

But then he yawned, his head resting against the false bark. His fuschia hair caught the golden light filtering through the Garden’s strange sky. He was exhausted from the evaluations today, he was up longer than some of the other kids. So after all that, all he wanted to do was sleep.

He leaned against a twisted, luminous tree, arms crossed, his usual smirk replaced by something fiercer, more protective. He wasn’t there for your evaluations, but with how the results came out — he had a right to reassure you.

You had barely made the top ten of the class. And that terrified you. Being top ten meant that you wouldn’t suffer more remedial classes. You were already exhausted from practicing all month for the evaluations. You didn’t need a repeat of it again.

Sukuna did not believe in the ranking for the evaluations. If anything he hated it. He may have been at the first place mark now, but this doesn’t mean that it meant anything. It wasn’t any of the teachers who will give you points at the live shows. It would be the audience. What the audience wants is often not what the teachers like.

“They’ll never understand what you’re capable of.” He tells you brazenly. “And I’ll make sure they don’t break you. Don’t worry about that.”

You looked up at him, his words stirring something deep inside you. “You really think I can do it?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

His gaze softened, the fire in his crimson eyes still blazing but tempered with something gentler. “I don’t think so. I know.” he said firmly, stepping closer to you.

“I just….” You purse your lips into a small line, lowering your gaze.

“You’ve got more heart in your little finger than any of those caretakers have in their whole soulless existence. They’re just trying to shape you into what they think you should be. But you? You’re already enough. More than enough.”

You felt a lump in your throat, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. “It’s hard sometimes.” you admitted, your voice wavering. “To keep believing in myself when they’re always... pushing. Always watching.”

Sukuna crouched down in front of you, his expression unusually serious. “Then stop doing it for them, little lamb.” he said, his voice low but unwavering. “Do it for you. Never for them. They’ll never understand joy the way you do about singing. They’re just a bunch of pricks who want to make money. You’re amazing, okay? You got that? ”

His words struck a chord in you, and you nodded, a small smile breaking through your doubt. “Yeah.” you whispered.

“Good.” he said, straightening up and offering you a hand. “Because when we’re out of here, the whole universe is gonna know your name. And I’ll be right there with you, making sure they hear you loud and clear.”

The idea of a life beyond the Garden. That was something you’d barely dared to dream of, but now it seemed suddenly felt tangible. With Sukuna by your side, with Starlight on the other side of you.

Somehow, with him, the Garden’s walls didn’t seem so high or so suffocating. You started to dream again. You wanted to dream again. Not just of performing for others but of living, truly living, free from the caretakers’ rules and expectations.

“You really think we’ll get out of here?” you asked one evening, as you both sat under the alien sky. “And be together?”

Sukuna leaned back on his elbows, gazing up at the shimmering lights above. “Of course we will,” he said confidently. “They can’t keep us here forever. And when we’re out, I’ll show you what real freedom looks like. No rules, no schedules, little lamb. It’ll be just us and the stars.”

You laughed softly, the sound carrying a mix of hope and longing. “Sounds like a dream.”

“It’s not a dream, little lamb.” he said, turning to look at you. “It’s a promise.”

And though the path ahead was uncertain, with obstacles and risks you couldn’t yet see, you knew one thing for sure: as long as Sukuna was with you, as long as his voice called you forward and his presence anchored you, you could face whatever came next.

And so, life in Anakt Garden continued, the days blending together in a cycle of practice, observation, and fleeting moments of stolen freedom with Sukuna. The caretakers pushed you even harder, their teachings were continually becoming a relentless scrutiny that was even more suffocating than before.

They wanted perfection, polished and pristine, a voice that could embody the harmony they imagined humanity should be. After all, they wanted a good show. Perfection was the only way to make that good show happen. But you weren’t perfect by their standards. Neither was Sukuna, and you didn’t want to be — not anymore.

You just wanted to sing together with Sukuna forever.

"You ever notice how quiet it gets here at night?" Sukuna said one evening, lying beside you under the alien trees. The Garden's soft glow reflected in his sharp eyes, making them look like twin stars. "It’s too perfect. Like they’ve sucked all the realness out of this place."

You nodded, your chest heavy with the truth of his words. The Garden’s beauty often felt like a trap, a cage made of light and silence. Artificial as it may be, it at least provided some solace to you when the times were rough.

"They think if it’s quiet enough, we’ll forget what it feels like to be loud." he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "But you and me? We shouldn’t be so willing to be quiet, you know?"

Those words stayed with you. And from that moment on, you started to see more of why Ryomen Sukuna was what he was to the caretakers and the teachers. He wanted to live. He wanted to be free. And the only way to be free was defiance. And you slowly but surely, you also became one with him in that too.

He began sneaking out of his quarters late at night to find you. Together, you’d climb the shimmering trees or sit on the glowing grass, whispering plans for the future. He talked about stages that stretched across galaxies, places where no one would tell you how to sing, where your voices could echo freely into the stars.

"I’ll write you the best songs, little lamb. Even better than what I already gave you." he promised to you. His tone was softer than usual. "Songs so good they’ll make the stars jealous."

“You are making quite big promises, don’t you think?” You tease him, giggling as you read over his newest piece. “This would make the stars jealous.”

"Yeah, because they’re our songs." he’d say, his smirk softening as he handed you another crumpled page. "No one else gets to have something as good as this. Not even the stars. Only you.”

“Only me?” Your eyes brightened at his words.

He smiled back at you once more. “Only you.”

But as much as Sukuna comforted you, you could see the way the Garden wore on him, too. The more you get to know him, the more he tells you about his experiences here. They were of course not going into all the details. He doesn’t want to regale you with sorrow.

Yet all that he says were consistent with his previous experiences. And each and every time he came back, he just hated it even more. The constant surveillance, the endless demands, the lack of freedom. It was like watching a wildfire struggle to burn in a room with no air. And no one was getting out without getting burned.

"They’re never going to let us leave, are they?" you asked him another night, the weight of the question pressing down on you like a stone.

Sukuna turned to you, his gaze fierce. "Not on our terms if they have their way, no. But that doesn’t mean we won’t get out."

"What do you mean?" You furrowed your brows quizzically at him. “Sukuna, what do you mean by that?”

He grinned, the kind of grin that sent a thrill down your spine because it meant he had a plan. "I’m working on something. Just... trust me, yeah?"

And you did. You always trusted him.

How could you not trust him?

He was all you had in this wretched place.

In the meantime, Sukuna never let the Garden take your spirit. When you were too tired to sing, he’d hum quietly for you, his voice a low, comforting rumble. When you felt trapped, he’d find a way to make you laugh.

Sometimes there was a sly joke here and there. Sometimes a sarcastic comment, or even an impromptu, over-the-top performance that earned him a scolding from the caretakers. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was that you smiled.

"You keep me sane, you know that?" you told him one night, the two of you leaning against each other beneath the alien sky.

"Good." he replied, his voice soft but steady. "Because you keep me grounded too."

You liked to think that when he smiled then, you realized you loved him.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

THIS WAS NOT WHAT YOU HAD IMAGINED IT TO BE. You had not wanted this to happen, not ever. But it has. You willingly walked into this stage. But you didn't know any better. You didn't know.

Alien Stage was supposed to be your moment, the culmination of all the practice, dreams, and songs you had poured your soul into. And yet, this was not the truth. It never was.

As you stood in the staging area, waiting for your name to be called, your chest felt tight. No, you don’t think it was the nerves. No, it had to be something darker. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

You could see it in Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes too. That pool of dread. That horror. He didn’t say anything outright, but his normally fiery demeanor had simmered into something quieter, sharper. As you waited, he stayed close, his presence grounding you in the chaos of the moment.

When your name echoed through the chamber, the sound bouncing off the crystalline walls like a bell tolling for the inevitable, Sukuna reached out without hesitation. His hand found your arm, his grip firm, almost desperate, as though letting go would send you spiraling into the unknown forever.

"Hey." he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. It lacked the usual bravado, the teasing edge you’d grown so used to. Instead, it carried something raw, something unguarded. "No matter what happens out there… sing. Don’t stop. Make sure you sing well. You have to win. Okay?"

His words were sharp and urgent, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart skip a beat. You nodded, but confusion flickered across your face. Ryomen Sukuna had never been this way with you before—so vulnerable, so unlike his usual self.

"Okay." you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered. "I will. I promise."

He didn’t let go, not right away. His grip loosened slightly, his thumb brushing your sleeve in a way that felt almost absentminded. You could feel your breath quiver at his touch, you looked at him for a moment, trying to take it all in. All of him in.

"Okay." he muttered, his eyes dropping for a brief moment before meeting yours again. "Sing as hard as you can. I’ll be here. Waiting for you. No matter what.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a cloak, warm and heavy. "Sukuna… why are you saying this now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk returned, but it was softer this time, tinged with something that looked suspiciously like worry. "Someone has to tell you that they’re waiting. I have to. So you’ll come back.”

You blinked, a small laugh escaping you despite the tension. “I’ll always come back. You know that.”

You could see his jaw tighten at your words. “Yeah. I know.”

The announcement once again rang out for the start, perhaps even louder this time, signaling your final call. He finally let go of your arm, his hand lingering just a second too long before he stepped back.

"Go, little lamb." he said, his voice firmer now. "Show them what you’ve got."

As you turned to walk toward the stage, the gravity of the moment hit you. His words, his touch, his uncharacteristic vulnerability. You know that they weren’t just about the performance. They were about you. About everything you’d worked for, everything you meant to him, even if he couldn’t quite say it outright.

You glanced back one last time and saw him standing there, arms crossed, his fiery red hair catching the strange, otherworldly light. His smirk had returned in full, but his eyes gave him away. No, there was hope there. And maybe, just maybe, a flicker of fear.

And as you stepped onto the stage, the lights blinding and the crowd’s anticipation palpable, you felt a strange sense of calm. You didn’t know why. But you could only look at it later as the calm before the storm that would change your life forever.

The space was nothing like the vibrant, celebratory arenas you’d imagined. It was stark and sterile, the kind of place that drained warmth from the air. The floor was smooth and reflective. You think that you could see your reflection if you look hard enough.

The audience or what passed for one was a collection of alien beings and floating orbs, their glowing forms pulsating with eerie rhythm. It was also broadcasting live all over the universe and even into the other galaxies.

Across from you stood your opponent. He was about your age, his dark hair messy, his expression somewhere between fear and resignation. He looked at you like he wanted to say something, but the moment passed, and the caretakers began their cold instructions.

"The match begins now." one of them announced.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as the first note left your lips. The song you sang wasn’t what they’d wanted from you. It was the rigid, controlled melodies drilled into you during practice. Instead, you poured everything into the song, letting your voice carry the raw, unfiltered emotions you’d kept hidden. Fear, hope, defiance—it was all there, spilling out into the room.

Your opponent responded, his voice trembling but undeniably beautiful. It wasn’t a battle just yet, no. In that moment, it was a conversation between lovers, having a desperate exchange to bring back a love that was near the end of its lifetime.

You sang as hard as you could, as well as you could. And you didn’t stop. But soon enough, it ended just as fast as it began. The moment the last notes faded, the orbs above began to glow, casting their silent judgment. A brilliant light radiated from your side of the stage, signaling the tally of the votes to announce your victory.

For a heartbeat, you felt relief—until you saw your opponent’s face.

His eyes widened in terror as a column of light descended from above, surrounding him in an otherworldly glow of bright red neon lights. And then you heard the gunshots. You reached out instinctively, a scream tearing from your throat, but it was too late. The light consumed him. Soon enough, it was his blood pooling down the stage.

Just a moment ago, he was something.

And now, he lay there dead, nothing.

Nothing but a pile of blood and death.

You stumbled back, your legs giving out as you collapsed to the cold, unforgiving floor. Your hands trembled, clutching at nothing, your voice gone as the weight of what had just happened crushed you. Your eyes were trembling, you couldn’t look away from what once was a living being.

Someone had approached, their serene tone in sharp contrast to the horror you felt. "Congratulations to you." they said. "You have advanced to the next round."

The words barely registered. All you could think about was the boy’s face, his fear, his voice, now silenced forever. You wanted to scream, you wanted to shout. You wanted to tell them that an innocent young boy was killed for losing, and how horrid that is. There was nothing else you could do, as they ushered you away from the sweltering blood pouring down from the stage to the audience below.

When they led you off the stage, Sukuna was waiting. His scarlet eyes locked onto yours, and in that moment, he didn’t need to ask what had happened. He already knew, you didn’t have to tell him. And yet just as much, the answer was written all over your face. You don’t want to talk about it.

"They killed him, didn’t they?" he asked, his voice low, trembling with restrained fury.

You nodded, the motion barely perceptible as your body shook. Sukuna’s hands balled into fists, his jaw tightening as he pulled you into a fierce embrace. Your tears started to flow against his shoulder as you rested your chin against it.

"I should've told you to run away. I should have stopped you." he muttered, his voice cracking. "I should’ve gotten you out of here before—"

His words broke off, replaced by a heavy silence. For a long time, neither of you moved. You clung to him, your breaths shaky and uneven, his arms a shield against the unbearable truth that the stage wasn’t about music or talent or dreams.

It was a death sentence.

This is what the aliens at Starlight’s home would be excited about. This is what they gush over their human pets, children— would be doing. They would sing and they would lose and they would die. For entertainment. And you hated it. The thought of it all made you want to hurl everything in your stomach.

"They never told us." you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. "They never said what this was."

Sukuna pulled back just enough to look at you, his scarlet eyes blazing with anger. But then there was regret. And then guilt. And then anger once again, for himself. For his stupidity.

He didn’t tell you anything either. He should have. Why didn’t he? Why didn’t he tell you? He was complicit in robbing you of your innocence. He was complicit in your grief. And even soon, your loss of life.

"They never tell how it happens. Now it’s guns.”

"But... why?"

"Because they can," he said bitterly. "Because we’re just pieces in their game."

For the first time, Ryomen Sukuna didn’t have a plan, and didn't have an answer for how to fix this. He didn’t know what to do, now that you had been robbed of what made you who you were, your humanity. Yet, all he had was you, and all you had was him.

But as you sat there, wrapped in his arms, something began to harden in you. The Aanakt Garden’s beauty, the caretakers’ promises, the Stage’s allure—it was all a lie. It will always be a lie.

It will always be a place where the cattle grows and gets ready for the slaughter. While the whole galaxy could watch. And now, you couldn’t unsee it. Now you can’t escape it. Neither could Sukuna.

"We’re getting out of here." he said finally, his voice steady but laced with steel. "I don’t care how, but we’re not staying in this hell."

And in that moment, you liked to think you believed him.

If anyone was going to get out, you think, it would be Sukuna.

And yet, that ugly feeling in your gut told you — no one escapes this.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

THE PLAN WAS AIRTIGHT, AT LEAST IT SEEMS LIKE IT. Or rather as close as it could be when desperation was your main driving force. There was some time before the next stage, where Sukuna was going to face another opponent.

And so in that time, Ryomen Sukuna had spent weeks mapping out the routines of the caretakers and teachers, and the additional security and studying their movements and making an accurate layout of the Anakt Garden. He whispered the plan to you late at night under the glowing trees, his voice steady despite the fire in his scarlet eyes.

"We’re getting out of here, little lamb." he’d said. "I’m not letting them keep us locked up like this."

You trusted him completely. You always have. Sukuna had always been your anchor, your protector in this wretched place. He was your salvation, and he will continue to be. You will escape with him. And you will see Starlight again. And you would be free, together. That was the plan.

But not all plans will go your way. No. Not at all. If anything, things will always go awry. Almost immediately, someone notices. And almost immediately, the meticulous plan that had been compromised. The alarm rings from one hall to another. And you hadn’t noticed it yet.

As you ran through the dimly lit corridors of the facility, Ryomen Sukuna leading the way with his usual reckless confidence, alarms blared. The sound pierced through the still air, loud and jarring. Your heart pounded as alien drones descended downward, their glowing forms moving with terrifying precision.

"Go!" Sukuna shouted, his voice sharp with urgency as he shoved you ahead. "I’ll hold them off!"

"No! Sukuna!" you cried, grabbing his arm. "We do this together!"

But the drones were faster. Before you could react, one of them fired a net-like energy beam that wrapped around you, pinning your arms to your sides. Sukuna roared in rage, lunging at the drone, but another blast struck him, sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Run!" you screamed, but he didn’t listen.

Ryomen Sukuna never listened when it came to you.

Almost immediately after that, they had dragged you both back. And the Garden was on a lockdown. It was evident with how the glow of their containment fields cast an eerie light over the corridors, along the fully locked halls and pathways.

The cold, unyielding walls of the facility pressed in around you, each step back toward the Garden feeling heavier than the last. And you hated it. You absolutely hated it. But you hated even more that Ryomen Sukuna could not look you in the eye.

Sukuna was truly bitter about the failure.

Grievous because you were still here, trapped.

Mournful because both of you could have been free.

When you arrived, Ryomen Sukuna’s alien guardian was waiting. Starlight had always been stern, but Sukuna’s guardian was something else entirely. You were scared of them almost instantaneously.

They were a towering, cold figure with a presence that seemed to sap the air from the room. Its form shimmered with an intense, otherworldly energy, and their piercing gaze locked onto Sukuna the moment he entered in his presence. Just as much as their fist locked against his human pet’s jaw.

"You reckless little fool." the alien hissed, its voice a low, vibrating hum that resonated in your chest. "Do you understand what you’ve done?"

Sukuna spat blood onto the floor, his red eyes blazing with defiance. "Yeah. I tried to leave. And I’d do it again."

The alien’s form seemed to darken, its glow pulsing angrily. "You endangered everything. Your place here, your future—her future!" It turned its piercing gaze on you, and you shrank back instinctively. “You got sent here to straighten yourself and now you punish someone else with you? What a wretched bastard you are, aren’t you?”

"Leave her out of this." Sukuna growled, stepping in front of you despite his injuries. "If you’ve got a problem, it’s with me."

The tension in the air was suffocating, heavy with unspoken threats and the sharp bite of inevitability. The alien stood before you both, its shimmering form radiating an icy menace that cut deeper than its words. Its gaze was fixed on Sukuna, unyielding and cold, like a predator sizing up its prey.

"I warned you," the alien said, its voice devoid of the warmth it had once feigned, now reduced to a blade of frigid authority. "Just like last time. This is not a place for rebellion. It is a place of purpose, a place of order. I sent you here for that purpose. Because you’re a wretched little fool who likes trouble. And still—still—you defy any sense."

Sukuna’s laugh was sharp, bitter, and defiant, like shards of glass scattering across the floor. "And what’s the consequence, huh?" he spat, stepping forward despite the guards already inching closer. His crimson eyes burned with a rage that even the alien seemed wary of. "You’ve already threatened to kill me before. You should just do it, goddamn it. Kill me already and free me from my misery."

The alien tilted its head, as if considering the words, and then its gaze shifted to you. The moment it did, the air seemed to chill further, and your stomach twisted into knots.

“Then I should kill the girl too.” it said, its tone as casual as discussing the weather.

“You will do no such thing, sir.” One of the caretakers speaks up, as Sukuna’s guardian looks to them. “You cannot touch the property of another.”

“Surely it doesn’t matter.” His alien speaks once again, looking at you. “I doubt this girl’s alien will have any trouble replacing her–”

“No!” The word tore from your throat before you could stop it, fear coursing through you like ice.

Sukuna’s reaction was instant, explosive to your fear. His eyes widened, but only for a heartbeat before narrowing with unrestrained fury. He lunged toward the alien, his movements wild, reckless. With an intent to kill.

"You bastard! I’ll tear you limb from limb if you ever DARE touch her!”

But the guards were ready. They seized him before he could even get close, their metallic hands clamping down on his arms with a force that made you wince. He struggled against them, snarling like a caged animal, his red hair wild and his expression murderous.

“Let me go!” he roared, his voice echoing through the chamber. "You think you can threaten her? You think I’ll let you? I’ll kill you with my bare hands!"

“I’m telling you again, sir.” The alien caretaker says once more. “You cannot touch another alien’s property without them knowing. You are not their owner. You cannot punish them without their owner’s approval.”

The alien remained unfazed with what the caretaker said, its gaze shifting between you and Sukuna like a judge deliberating a sentence. They snicker at the caretaker’s words, narrowing his gaze to your frightful look. “Very well. Take my own to his sleeping cell.”

“I won’t let you! Not this time!” Sukuna screams like a wildman.

Sukuna struggles against the guards. He nearly gets away, but is quickly apprehended. He growls as he tries to attack them from the side, but they tackle him to the ground. You tried to approach him, but the caretaker pulled you away. Sukuna’s guardian lowers themselves to look at him, eye to eye.

“You will learn, you brat.” They said finally, its tone edged with finality. “Both of you will learn. Separately.”

The word hit you like a blow.

Separately.

“No, no.” you whispered, shaking your head. “No, you can’t—”

The alien ignored your protests, gesturing sharply to the guards. "I can do what I want. He is mine.” He looks at Sukuna again and snickers. “We shall have a good conversation, won’t we? Take him. Lock him where his fire can burn no one but himself."

"Sukuna!" you screamed as they dragged him away.

He fought against them with everything he had, his voice a feral growl. You too struggle against the caretaker, but no matter how much you both tried to pull from the gravity of separation, you tried to get closer. Yet it was for naught, as they managed to pull him away from your proximity. Your tears started to fall once more.

“I’ll find you!” he shouted, his eyes locking onto yours even as he was forced through the doorway. “Don’t give up! I’ll find you—I swear!”

And then he was gone.

His guardian follows behind him.

And you knew, you knew what he’ll endure.

You stood frozen, trembling, the caretaker alien’s presence looming over you like a shadow. Its gaze turned back to you, assessing. You looked to the ground, not wanting to show them the tears you were spilling for Sukuna.

“You should hope his words are hollow.” they said, its voice dripping with cold disdain. “Because hope will only destroy you.”

And with that, it turned and left, leaving you standing alone in the silence of the chamber. The absence of Sukuna’s fiery presence felt like a void threatening to swallow you whole. But even in the stillness, his last words echoed in your mind, a flicker of warmth against the growing cold. Don’t give up. I’ll find you.

And no matter what, you held on to that promise.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

THEY WERE FORCING EVERYONE TO WATCH THE NEXT ROUND. But you knew that they were doing this especially for you. You knew they were. It was Sukuna’s performance on the stage that day.

And you could see how exhausted he was, how brutalized his soul was. At some points, purple shade was peaking through his costume. You knew what that meant. And that had made you weep.

His performance had left the entire arena in a stunned silence. The lights above flickered dimly, casting long shadows that stretched across the cold, metallic floor. The haunting, heavy lyrics that poured from his lips didn’t just fill the air. Each and every word was him, each and every semblance of harmony belonged to him,

Everyone in that arena was consumed by it. Each and every note shifts the energy in the room, warping everything around him. His voice, raw and unrelenting, bled emotion. All his pain, sorrow, fury and in every word, there was a piece of him. A piece that he hadn’t shown anyone before. A piece of him that you knew and now were knowing even more.

You stood just out of sight, as caretakers wanted.You stayed hidden in the shadows just below the arena, watching as Sukuna let the song carry him. You could see the strain in his expression, the way his jaw clenched with each line.

It was as if he was born to be the song. It was as if the words themselves were a personal confession to all that were watching him The black sorrow he sang about wasn’t just an abstract emotion; it was something he had lived, something that clung to him like a second skin.

The first verse seemed to echo a truth he’d carried with him since the beginning of your time together. There was always a distance between him and everyone else. He had always been the outsider, the one who didn’t belong.

And yet, in the quiet darkness of the stage, there was you—his closest companion, the person who understood the weight of his heart. The loneliness in his voice spoke volumes: he wanted to reach someone, but there was always a wall between them, and that wall was made of sorrow, isolation, and the crushing weight of expectations.

He had sung like this for you before, in the quiet moments when he thought no one else was listening. But now, he wasn’t singing for you—he was singing for everyone. He wanted them to know his misery. He wanted them to know how much they had taken from him.

This wasn’t just him pouring out his heart to you, no. It was also for the aliens who were taking in his siren’s song. For the aliens who had taken him from his home, for the caretakers who controlled his fate, and for himself.

The chorus rang out like the final bell of a war that had no victor—only casualties. He held the mic stand closer to him. The imagery was powerful, as he tilted his head to belt out the note. Each connecting harmony was like a deep, endless sea that threatened to swallow everything in its path.

In that moment, as the echoes of Sukuna’s voice faded into the suffocating silence of the chamber you were in. There was a realization that struck you like a lightning bolt to the chest. Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just fighting the system, the Garden, or the alien overlords who sought to mold him into their image.

He was fighting something deeper, something far more insidious: the darkness that had been festering in his soul for far longer than you’d known him. That defiance, that fire that burned so brightly in him, wasn’t just rebellion.

No, it was a shield. A desperate attempt to hold back the weight of his own despair. And you hadn’t understood it then. Not fully. Not until now.

Memories of him flooded your mind: the way he laughed like it was armor, the way he played his guitar like it was the only thing holding him together, the way he smiled—wide, cocky, and so achingly fragile if you knew where to look.

That was that smile, wasn’t it, Sukuna? you thought bitterly, tears slipping down your cheeks unchecked. A smile that didn’t just hide pain but dared it to come closer, to strike harder. You didn’t have to face it alone, but you did. Again and again. Because you thought you had to.

Your legs gave out, and you crumpled to the ground, hands clutching at the fabric of your sleeves as if the motion could ground you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, the ache in your chest suffocating.

"You wanted to die." you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of the truth. "You wanted to be free, to let it all end."

And then the thought hit you like a second wave of agony, sharp and relentless. And I was there. I was there, and you couldn’t help it.

The tears came harder now, your sobs wracking your frame as you clutched your knees to your chest. You felt guilt, beyond what you should. He too made his choices. He made his choice to live with you. Even if it was making him suffer. But that guilt, you want to free him too.

You want to be free with him. And how, that might not even happen. Not in this life. Even if you don’t want to give up, you don’t know how you’ll be able to keep this up. You wanted to be selfish with him too, to want him by your side for as long as you both lived. And yet, you don’t know what to do anymore as you listen to him sing more and more.

"You stayed." you choked out, the words meant for him even though he was no longer there to hear them. "You stayed… for me."

Your mind spun with the weight of it. Sukuna’s anger wasn’t just about rebellion or resistance. It was the fury of someone who had been forced to live a life they never asked for, over and over again, only to find a glimmer of something, or someone worth staying for.

And that someone was you.

He chose you, only you.

In that moment, as the final notes faded into the silence, Ryomen Sukuna’s expression softened, just a fraction. He wasn’t smiling, but there was something in his eyes that told you he had given everything on that stage. He always will. Even if he didn’t want to.

The votes quickly came in.

He turned to his opponent.

And he watched, his eyes cold.

The red spilled on his face.

Ryomen Sukuna had won the round.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

YOU STARED AT THE SCREEN. The days leading up to the next stage were filled with uncertainty, the tension thick in the air. Sukuna and you hadn’t spoken much since his performance, both of you retreating into your thoughts.

The silence between you two was loaded, heavy with unspoken fears and doubts. Neither of you could shake the knowledge that things were escalating. The stakes were rising, and no one, not even Sukuna, could protect you from what was coming.

Then came the announcement.

The one that would change everything.

You were going to face each other.

This was the last few rounds. And these were the rounds where the most dangerous matches took place. A place where the brightest stars were either made or shattered, and where the strongest were left standing. The announcement echoed through the Garden, their cold voices coming over the loudspeakers, numbing you with their indifference.

They didn’t care that you and Sukuna had a bond. Or that there was something more between you. They didn’t care about your shared past or your quiet moments of rebellion. Nor could they care about your wanting for freedom. None of that mattered to them.

To them, you were just pieces in a game, and now the pieces were being moved into position for the final battle. The moment you heard it, you froze. The words felt like ice, the truth of them setting in slowly, like a bitter poison coursing through your veins.

You and Sukuna were going to face each other.

You felt the world shift under your feet. Your body went numb as the weight of the situation began to sink in. But even in that moment of paralysis, you could hear the distant, familiar sound of Ryomen Sukuna’s voice—strong, fierce, and close. He was wearing a collar. That was something he had never worn before.

"Sukuna..." you whispered, your throat dry as you turned to face him. This was the first time you’ve seen him since you were parted. “I….”

He was standing near the edge of the arena, his posture rigid, his expression dark. His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by something far more serious. His eyes, usually sharp and calculated, were clouded with a deep, furious storm. He didn’t look like the same person who had stood on the stage with such confidence before.

Sukuna’s gaze locked onto you, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to read you, to understand the words he wasn’t yet hearing. But the words in your mind were loud and clear: you didn’t want this. You didn’t want to fight him. And you were pretty sure he didn’t want to fight you either.

"I won’t let you die." he growled, his voice low, but full of unrelenting anger. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, the muscles in his jaw twitching. You could see the frustration building in him, the same frustration you felt, but much more visceral, raw.

"This isn’t some damn game. They’re trying to use us, twist us up into something we’re not." His breath was ragged as he took a step toward you, his gaze never wavering. "We’re not toys. I won’t let them take you from me. I swear."

You could feel your chest tighten as you watched him, your mind swirling with confusion. You didn’t want to fight him. You didn’t want to be a part of this blood-soaked game. But what choice did you have? What else was there left to do but survive?

"I don’t want to do this." you whispered, the weight of the situation sinking into your bones.

Sukuna’s expression softened for just a split second before the fire returned, burning brighter than ever. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance between you both with deliberate steps, his eyes searching your face.

"Then don’t." he said, his voice steady now, though it was strained with emotion. "Just let me do what I can, alright? Let me figure it out.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that there was a way out, a way to escape this nightmare together. But deep down, you knew how this deadly game worked. You had seen the carnage before. And it's doubtful this will be the last. Not even his promises are enough to calm you down.

You had watched as real people were broken one after the other. Crushed under the weight of this deadly game, this stupid game you didn’t want to play. And you knew that in the end, it’s not likely to end. They don’t want it to end. They want to see the blood spill, so they may applaud.

But still, the desperation in his voice pulled at you, pulling you closer to him. There felt a horrible sense of finality. A finality you never wanted. Not with him. You don’t want it to end. Not ever. Not when it comes to loving him.

Ryomen Sukuna had always been your protector, your anchor. But now, the roles seemed reversed. He was the one who needed saving, and you were the only one who could save him from the thing that haunted him.

But the price is your death. You had to die to save him. To keep him from suffering. And the knowledge that he couldn’t protect you from this isn’t going to save him either. He wouldn’t let this happen. He doesn’t want to, either.

"I can’t lose you." Sukuna muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but the pain in it was so raw that it sent a shiver down your spine. “I love you too much to let you go.”

You reached out, touching his arm gently, feeling the tension in his muscles as you tried to ground him, to remind him that you were here, and you were still alive. But the terror in his eyes told you everything you needed to know: this wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about protecting each other from the very forces that had taken control of your lives.

“I love you too.” You whisper back to him, almost so brokenly. “I don’t want to let you go either. I don’t want to lose you.”

He shook his head, his grip on your arm tightening. "Not like this.We can’t lose each other like this.”

You tried to pull him closer, but the weight of the situation was too heavy. You could see it in his eyes—the guilt, the anger, the desperation. He couldn’t bear the thought of you being forced to fight him, to be torn apart in front of everyone. But what were your choices?

You both knew the truth. You could either submit to the rules and fight each other, or you could rebel against them, together. And if you did that, the price would be steep. Sukuna’s scarlet eyes softened, though the anger remained.

"Thank you.”

“For what?” You asked him softly.

“For being the object of my affections.” He whispers to your ear, leaning forward to press a kiss on your cheek. “Thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions. My love and my hatred. All of it.”

You looked at him for a moment before smiling, eyes getting watery. You could feel the warmth of his kiss sear on your skin, like a burn from the flame. Like a moth burning in the candlelight. You wanted more of him. You wanted more of his love. And his hatred. You wanted it all.

But there will never be enough time.

There will never be another time.

You cannot escape this time, not like this.

“Thank you for letting me have all of them.” You whisper back to him.

He returns your smile. “It was my pleasure.”

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SOON ENOUGH, THE STAGE WAS PELTED BY THE POURING RAIN. And still, they will continue this, no matter what. It had to end here. There was no other way out. The harsh, mechanical buzz of the arena’s lights flickered above you, and the air was thick with the weight of the moment.

You were back on the stage, but this time, everything had changed. Everyone had their cold eyes watching from every angle. Everything was properly set by now, to the perfection of their wants. All that was left was the stage to have two people, singing for a deadly performance.

The stage was set, the tension palpable in the air as the crowd held its breath. Everything around you shimmered with the anticipation of what was about to unfold. The lights dimmed, casting long shadows across the space, and then, the music began to play.

A haunting melody rippled through the speakers, its ethereal sound sinking deep into your bones. The notes wove together like a sorrowful tale, threading through the very air that surrounded you. It filled the chamber, wrapping itself around you like an inescapable fog.

You could feel it—the weight of the lyrics, heavy with longing and sorrow. You sang them as they were. They spoke of parting, of loss, of moments slipping through your fingers like sand. It was as though the song had been crafted specifically for this moment, for this fight, for the end of something you never wanted to end.

You had expected the chaos, the passion, the defiance that always accompanied Sukuna’s performances. But now, as the music surged, something shifted. Sukuna, his scarlet eyes locked on yours across the stage, suddenly stopped singing.

The notes faltered in the air, the rhythm stuttering as he stood still. His lips no longer moved in time with the music. The sharp edge of his voice, so used to biting, so full of fire—was gone. The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy.

Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze never wavered from yours, but it wasn’t the usual sharp, cocky look. There was no defiance there. There was no challenge. There was no will to fight. Instead, there was only something far deeper, more painful.

You had noticed it too late, how resigned he already was to this raw, aching realization that you both had reached the brink. The consequences of this moment, the weight of it all, had become far too real for him. You saw it in his scarlet eyes. That flicker of something that you knew was just for you.

Something more human, more vulnerable, than you’d ever seen before. The walls he’d built around himself, the fire he had fought so hard to keep alive, all began to crumble, leaving him exposed in a way that made your heart ache. And then, against the cold droplets of rain that began to fall from the sky, Sukuna smiled.

It wasn’t the usual smug, arrogant grin you were so accustomed to. It was softer, almost bittersweet. It was the sort of smile that carried the weight of everything unspoken between you. That was a smile of adoration, that was a smile of hatred — that was the smile of devotion.

He stood there as you sang. It was as if the rain had washed away the last of his resistance, as if the music itself had torn down the walls that had held him together for so long.In that moment, you realized something.

That smile—fragile as it was—wasn’t a mask. It wasn’t a challenge or a jest. It was surrender. Ryomen Sukuna had always been the one to defy the world, to push against everything that tried to contain him. But now, standing there in the midst of the storm, he was no longer fighting. He had accepted it all.

"I should’ve known." he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the rain. The words were barely more than a whisper, but they carried a depth of emotion that took you by surprise. "I should’ve known that... this was always going to be the end. For both of us."

You heard him and you almost forgot your part in the song. You longed to say something—to tell him that there was still time, that you could still fight, that you didn’t have to end this way. But the words died on your throat. You continued to sing.

Because the truth was, you could see it too. The end was already written in the stars.You knew it too, you knew it too well. The inevitable was crashing toward you both, and no matter how much you fought it, it was going to happen.

Sukuna’s smile wavered as he watched you continue to sing. And for a moment, the man you knew, that man you loved, the fiery, untamable force….He was gone. He had let him die at that moment. All that remained was a broken man, drenched in rain, standing at the edge of something he couldn’t escape.

The music swelled again, but this time, it wasn’t just about the performance. It was about you both, about the fragile connection that had formed in the midst of all the chaos. The music no longer felt like a fight—it felt like a goodbye.

To him, this only ends one way.

If someone must survive, it has to be you.

He all but abandons his space, the rain pouring even heavier than ever. You were surprised as he pulled you close to him. Tears and raindrops all over your face. He was quick to know which were tears and which were the rain. He smiled. The music continued to play in the background.

His fingers trembled slightly as he reached for your face, brushing away a tear that had escaped. The song continued to swell deeper and deeper, and his turn to sing was upcoming. But Ryomen Sukuna’s lips were no longer part of it. He doesn’t want it to be. He wanted to die the way he wanted to.

His mouth pressed against yours in a kiss that was raw and desperate, a kiss that spoke of goodbye, of all the unspoken feelings between you both. A kiss that felt like a last act of defiance, a refusal to be another pawn in their game.

For a fleeting moment, everything else disappeared. The noise of the arena, the eyes of everyone watching this, the weight of the stage—all of it melted away as you kissed him back, pouring every ounce of emotion into that single act.

Your kiss was hard and angry, angry at him for choosing this route. Hard because you wanted him to feel your pain, the pain that he was leaving you with as you continued on to live. You pulled him even closer. You part to breathe but you pull him back in even more. You continued on and on until you couldn’t breathe anymore.

Soon enough the pelting of the guns started, there wasn’t even the neon red to warn you. They continued to shoot one after another. One to his shoulder, another to his back. But he kissed you back even more, his hands around your throat. As though to tell you his own pain in parting. More shots rang out, one after the other.

As your lips parted, his expression hardened, scarlet eyes flashing with the finality of his decision. Blood pouring out his lips as he smiles at you, almost so hauntingly with his hands still wrapped around your throat with such eager tightness.

"You have to live." he whispered, his voice rough, breaking. "You have to survive."

The bullets continued to tear through him, their cold, metallic scream louder than the music itself. His body jerked with each impact, his eyes wide with shock and pain as he staggered back, the warmth of the kiss he had given you still lingering on your lips, the taste of it bitter with the knowledge of what was coming. His rough, brutish hands slowly, and then finally off your reddening neck.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t speak. Your long lost breath hitched in your throat as your entire world seemed to collapse in on itself. The music continued, relentless, as though mocking the pain in your chest. You wanted to scream, to stop them, but your voice was stolen by the sorrow that flooded your body.

Ryomen Sukuna crumpled to the ground, blood staining the stage beneath him, his chest rising and falling weakly, but his scarlet eyes never left yours. He wanted to look at you. He wanted you to keep looking at him. He was still there, still fighting, still telling you to live, even as life drained from him.

The music reached its climax, the voice of the singer rising in agony. Consume me, yes, me, oh, oh, the words rang out, but all you could feel was the sharp sting of your beloved’s corpse in front of you. The haunting notes continued as if nothing had changed, as if everything was still a game, but the truth was undeniable.

You cried out with everything in you, your desperate tears and the angry rain mixing with his blood on the stage, your heart breaking as you watched him slip away. Until he was finally gone. Until he was nothing but a bleeding flesh corpse in front of you.

The music, now a distant, broken sound in your ears, felt like an unbearable weight pressing down on your chest. Each note seemed to draw the last remnants of air from your lungs, suffocating you as you stood frozen on the stage.

Ryomen Sukuna's blood continued to stain the floor and mix into the water ceaselessly, pooling beneath him, but his scarlet eyes... his eyes that you so loved were still on you, still filled with the fire of a promise, a plea.

His last breath was shallow, but his expression never wavered. Live, his eyes said. Survive.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tear the entire world apart for what they had made of him, for the life they had stolen. But instead, you stood there, powerless. The caretakers' voices crackled through the speakers, indifferent to the tragedy they had orchestrated.

They had made you fight. They had made you kill. But Sukuna had chosen to fall for you. He had chosen to make sure you had the chance to escape the nightmare, even if it meant giving up his own life.

And the weight of that choice was too much to bear.

You were still there, staring at him, when they gave the signal. The arena, the very place where your blood had spilled—your tears mixed with the blood on the stage—was just another part of the system they controlled.

Another place where they took away everything and gave nothing in return. The system that controlled your fate, controlled Sukuna's fate, was now turning its eyes to you. But in the midst of the flashing lights and the cold, sterile voices that told you to continue, that told you to perform, you made a decision. You weren't going to give them what they wanted. Not like this.

Your body trembled, but your heart, for the first time in so long, felt certain. You weren't just going to survive anymore. You weren’t going to let this system take everything from you, your life, your soul, your love for Sukuna, without fighting back.

You dropped to your knees beside him, the echo of his sacrifice reverberating through your chest. His body was still warm, still twitching with the last remnants of life, but you knew it was too late. He was gone.

But the part of him that lived. The part that had made sure you would survive. That was not lost. And that was something they couldn’t take. You didn’t care if they were watching. You didn’t care if they were observing your every move.

You leaned over Sukuna’s body, placing a trembling hand over his heart, now still. And in that moment, something in you snapped, like a thread being pulled taut and finally breaking. The arena’s speakers crackled, and a voice you didn’t recognize spoke.

“Stage completion.”

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epilogue

The soft glow of the rising sun began to creep into the room, its warm fingers stretching across the floor, painting the walls with hues of gold and amber. The world outside was still, caught between the shadows of the night and the promise of a new day.

But here, in this quiet space, there was a peace that neither of you had ever known. The chaos of the alien stage, the endless battles, the pain, and the sacrifices—they all seemed distant, swallowed up by the serenity of the moment.

You lay there, your head resting on Sukuna’s legs, your body relaxed in the rare comfort of his presence. The rhythmic hum of your song, soft and almost hypnotic, filled the air.

It was a song that had become an anchor for both of you, a melody that whispered of things you had lost and things you still held dear. Your humming wrapped around him like a blanket, soothing the raw edges of his soul that had been scarred by too many years of violence.

Sukuna’s fingers, long and deft, traced the strands of your hair, moving slowly and deliberately, almost as though he were trying to carve this moment into his memory, like it was the only thing that made sense in a world that had long since turned upside down. His hand paused at the crown of your head, his fingers resting lightly as if afraid that any sudden movement might shatter the fragile peace between you.

"You’re still humming, little lamb." Sukuna said.

You were surprised that his voice was unusually quiet, the words more of an observation than a question. His fingers toyed with the ends of your hair, curling a few strands around his finger and letting them slip through his grasp, as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

"You always sing when you’re... content."

You glanced up at him, your eyes still heavy with the warmth of sleep, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I always sing when I remember the good things." you whispered, your voice a soft murmur. "The things that make everything worth it."

Sukuna’s gaze softened for a fleeting moment, a brief glimpse of something that had always been there but was too buried beneath the armor he wore to ever show. His hand moved from your hair, trailing down the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. It was such a simple touch, but it carried with it more meaning than he had ever given to words.

"The good things?" His voice was low, almost hushed, as if he were afraid to disturb the peace between you. "What good things, huh?" He shifted slightly, his hand resting beside you now, his fingers grazing the surface of your skin.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his touch sink in, the quiet rhythm of your song keeping the silence comfortable. You let the words come, not thinking about them too much, just allowing them to spill from your heart.

"The times when we didn’t have to fight." you said softly, almost to yourself. "When everything was simpler. When it was just us... and the world felt like it was still ours to take."

Sukuna didn’t speak at first, his gaze far away as if he were lost in his own thoughts. His hand didn’t move from where it rested on the side of your face, his thumb now gently stroking your skin as if trying to memorize the sensation. There was a vulnerability in his touch that he rarely allowed anyone to see, but in this moment, with the soft light of dawn spilling over the both of you, it felt right.

"You really believe in that?" he asked after a long pause, his voice quieter than it had ever been. "You really think we could ever go back to something... simple?"

The question hung in the air between you two, heavy with the weight of the years you had spent in the fight for survival. But there was something in the way his hand lingered on your cheek, something in the way he allowed himself to be vulnerable with you that made you smile again.

"I think….." you began, your voice steady. "We make our own simple things in life. We can decide to live in the good things, even if the rest of the world is falling apart around us."

Sukuna’s gaze softened, his features easing for a moment as if your words had found something deep within him, something he hadn’t known he was missing. He exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling with the weight of unspoken thoughts.

"You’re right, I suppose." he said quietly, his hand slowly shifting to the side of your head again, fingers gently threading through your hair. "Maybe... maybe we don’t have to fight all the time. Maybe we don’t have to live in the dark. Not if we don’t want to."

His words hung in the air like a promise, tentative but real. The two of you stayed there in the quiet, the hum of your song filling the space around you like a soft lullaby. The sun was fully risen now, and the light poured through the window, bathing the room in warmth.

The world outside might have been a battlefield, a place where survival meant everything, where love and peace seemed impossible. But here, in this moment, with Sukuna’s fingers tangled in your hair and the world reduced to the two of you, it felt like anything was possible. You could make your own good things, even if it was just for a little while.

"Stay with me, forever, ‘kuna." you murmured, the words almost too soft to hear, but he heard them all the same. You tilted your head up slightly, looking into his eyes. "Please, stay."

Ryomen Sukuna looked down at you, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, in a rare moment of honesty, he nodded, his voice steady. He lets out a small smile on his lips. A smile he always reserved warmly for you. Only you.

"I’m not going anywhere, little lamb." he said quietly. "Not if I don’t have to."

You smiled back at him. “Good.”

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