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jupiterpilgrim · 2 months ago

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SEX CAGE - A Certain Kind of Freedom

Kwon Eunbi x male reader

word count: 14K

part 1

Eunbi and Somi are lounging on the couch, comfortably wrapped in the delicious art of gossip — the kind of conversation that could fuel hours of free entertainment, without the need for Netflix or Wi-Fi. Eunbi grabs another cookie, chewing slowly as Somi talks with the passion of someone who just watched the latest episode of a dramatic reality show.

"You heard the latest about Mina, right?" Somi starts, her voice full of that conspiratorial tone only someone who truly revels in other people's misfortunes can master.

Eunbi raises an eyebrow, with the moderate interest of someone who knows this is going to be good. "Oh, Mina, the embodiment of perfection... at least according to herself."

Somi nearly chokes with laughter. "Yes! And can you believe her boyfriend dumped her to date her younger sister?!" She drops the news as if she’s revealing the biggest scandal of the week, which, for their circle, might just be.

Eunbi stifles a laugh, which turns into a rather sadistic smile. "Of course, because obviously the only way to escape that arrogance was... to dive headfirst into an even bigger mess. Congrats to him for making the dumbest choice available."

Somi slaps Eunbi’s arm, laughing. "The worst part is, apparently the sister thought it was cute that he tattooed her name on his arm. Cheap tattoo, mind you. And, of course, she fell for him right then and there. Because nothing says 'I love you' like a bad tattoo."

Eunbi grimaces, shaking her head. "A name tattoo is like signing a contract with disaster. But hey, everyone does what they can with the little brain they have, right?"

They burst into laughter again, the kind of shared humor only longtime friends can appreciate — especially when they’re mocking someone they never really liked. The sound echoes through the apartment, and for a moment, it’s almost like they’re back in the days when their biggest worry was deciding which nail polish to wear that week.

Somi finally catches her breath and looks at Eunbi with a softer expression. “But seriously... you’re glowing, you know? You’ve got such amazing energy! Way different from the last time we talked, when you were, like, at rock bottom with the whole unemployment thing.”

Eunbi feels her stomach churn slightly. Ah, rock bottom. What dark times those were (three months ago). Until she turned things around, of course, but by means Somi can’t — and shouldn’t — know about. Eunbi plays with her hair, as if she can brush away the discomfort with the gesture. “Ah, you know... things have gotten better. Lucky for me, my roommate is super smart.”

Somi narrows her eyes, curious. “Smart how? Did he help you get a new job or something?”

Eunbi tries not to sweat. She can’t exactly admit that her current 'job' involves cameras, masks, and an eager audience hungry for more content. So, the lie flows, smooth as oil. “Oh, you know, he’s into all that nerdy stuff. Investments, bitcoins, NFTs... those complicated things only weirdos understand. He’s been covering the bills for now.”

Somi looks at Eunbi, genuinely impressed. “Wow, you really lucked out! A rich nerdy roommate. Sounds like one of those cliché romances.”

Eunbi lets out a nervous smile. “Yeah, it was a good roll of the dice.” Before Somi can start connecting dots or asking more complicated questions, Eunbi quickly decides to steer the conversation in a different direction. “But enough about that. Now that I have more time, I’m thinking of going back to the gym. What do you think about us going together? Like, a triumphant return to the fitness life.”

Somi almost spills her tea in excitement. “You? The gym? I’m shocked!! But seriously, that’s awesome! What gave you the sudden motivation?”

Eunbi smiles, satisfied to have shifted the topic to safer ground. “Oh, you know... health, staying in shape, that kind of thing. And now that I’ve got more free time, I’ve got no excuses, right?”

Of course, the real reason for the new gym routine was less noble and more... vain. Keeping that ‘porn goddess body’ requires work, after all. The cameras don’t lie, but they definitely have their preferences. And Eunbi was determined to live up to those expectations — hers, the fans’, and anyone else willing to pay to watch.

Somi gets excited about the idea, clapping her hands animatedly. “I LOVE this! Finally, a gym buddy! We can even take those post-workout selfies, you know? Like, ‘no pain, no gain.’ It’s going to be great!”

Eunbi laughs, already picturing herself doing squats while Somi films her for Instagram. “It’ll be fun. My goal will be to get abs like yours.”

The conversation flows smoothly, with occasional laughs and sharp gossip, until the apartment door opens and you walk in, as usual, a bit clumsy, unaware that you’re interrupting the gathering. Somi turns her head to look at you, surprised but with her usual friendly, easy smile.

“Hey! Long time no see!” She gets up to greet you while you try to force a tired smile and give her a quick hug. Not that you don’t like Somi; she’s great, really, but she always brings this certain energy that leaves you feeling slightly... drained. The kind of person who could empty the battery of an entire room just by showing up.

“How’s it going?” you ask, trying to be polite as you prepare to escape to your room.

Somi responds with the same enthusiasm as always. “Everything’s great! And you? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Ah, I’m good too. Make yourselves at home, don’t mind me, I’m just heading to my cave,” you say, and with that, you finally make your way to your room.

Barely closing the door, Somi, who never misses an opportunity, turns to Eunbi with a curious gleam in her eye.

“So, has he been bringing a lot of girls around here?”

Eunbi lets out a theatrical sigh, as if the question were more ridiculous than it actually was. “Thank God, no. He’s always been pretty chill, actually. More of a stay-at-home, play-video-games type than the ‘hook up with everyone’ kind.”

Somi crosses her arms, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Really? That’s funny. He’s cute. And I always thought cute guys were taken. What a waste.”

Eunbi tries to keep her composure, but something about Somi finding you cute bothers her. Not that she’s jealous. Obviously not! But hearing Somi compliment you... well, let’s just say it’s irritating. “Yeah, he’s cute. But anyway, back to the topic... the gym, right? I think I’ll start tomorrow.”

“Great! The gym I go to is amazing, you’ll love it.”

Eunbi smiles, satisfied with the sudden shift in conversation, and decides to change the course even further.

"By the way, I’ve always wanted to ask you something, Somi... have you ever been with a girl?"

Somi almost breaks the cookie she was about to eat. She blinks, processing the question. “Uh... like, kissed?”

Eunbi shrugs. “Kissed, hooked up, anything. Has it ever happened?”

Somi, still a bit taken aback, furrows her brow. “Ah, kissing, sure. Everyone’s kissed a friend after a few drinks, right? It’s like a friendship ritual.”

Eunbi lets out a little laugh. “So, just a kiss then? Nothing more?”

Now, Somi’s completely intrigued. She places her teacup carefully on the coffee table, as if she’s about to disarm a bomb. “Well... I’ve never slept with a girl, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Eunbi continues to probe. “And... would you try it?”

She pauses, looking at Eunbi more intently now, as if trying to catch the hidden subtext in the question. Then, connecting some dots, maybe a bit hastily, she smiles slightly. “Wait... are you suggesting that—”

But before Somi can finish her sentence, Eunbi waves her hand, as if shooing away a bunch of unwanted thoughts. “No, no! Nothing like that. I’m not suggesting anything. I was just curious.”

Somi laughs, but there’s a faint thread of tension in the air now, something light, something that wasn’t there before. “Oh, okay. Because, you know, I wouldn’t judge if you were thinking about it. I mean, you’re gorgeous, I’m gorgeous... It wouldn’t exactly be a tragedy.”

Eunbi gives a short, controlled laugh, like someone who needs to keep the train on the tracks. “I know, but that’s not it. I was just asking.”

Somi relaxes, but the mischievous look doesn’t fade. “Ah, got it. Just checking if the hot friend’s into girl-on-girl stuff. Sure, makes sense. Now tell me, what about you? Ever been with a girl?”

“Well... like you, I’ve kissed some friends a few times, you know, those party moments when everyone’s drunk and hyped. But I never... went beyond that, you know?”

Somi puts on a fake dramatic act, clutching her chest like she's deeply offended. "What? You've kissed other friends but never me? And here I thought our friendship was special!"

Eunbi, with the calm of someone who always has an answer ready, shrugs. "Well, we could change that right now, if you want."

Somi raises an eyebrow, surprised, but a smile begins to form on her lips. "Are you serious?"

Eunbi simply nods. "Why not? Friends do these things, right?"

If this were a book, this would be the moment when the reader holds their breath, eagerly anticipating what's next.

Then, without much fuss, Somi gives a mischievous smile, and they both lean forward until their lips touch in a quick, simple kiss. No drama, no complications. Just a brief moment, but with an underlying tension neither of them will admit to.

When they pull away, Eunbi smiles like she just checked off something from her to-do list.

"There. Now you're part of the exclusive group of friends I've kissed."

Somi laughs, raising her cup of tea. "Wow, what an honor. Let's toast to that."

Eunbi raises hers too, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "To open friendships."

They clink their cups, the sound echoing through the room, and the atmosphere relaxes again, as if nothing unusual just happened.

—

[12:03 AM]

Yujin: Heyyyy Rubydden! 🖤✨ Saw your sextape, girl, you SLAYED! Congrats!

[12:07 AM]

Rubydden: Omg, thanksss! I was so nervous, you have no idea 😳

[12:08 AM]

Yujin: Nervous? Pff, no way. You looked super natural. You’ve got that je ne sais quoi. Like... I dunno, a mix of dominatrix and Instagram fairy, you know?

[12:09 AM]

Rubydden: 😂😂 What a description! Now I gotta add that to my bio. But seriously, I loved what you do too. I watched some of your vids and I was like... wow ❤️🔥

[12:11 AM]

Yujin: Some? Haha, liar, bet you binged them all 😏

[12:15 AM]

Rubydden: Well... maybe five or six 😅

---

[10:35 AM]

Yujin: Look, I'm gonna be blunt... I got off to your titjob. That was AVN Awards level 🥵💦

[10:36 AM]

Rubydden: 😳 Omg! Wasn’t expecting that. Now I’m blushing

[10:37 AM]

Yujin: You're a goddess, Rubydden. That close-up on your boobs... girl, perfection!!

[10:38 AM]

Rubydden: Haha, I thought the same about you when I saw that video of you making yourself squirt... hard to forget

[10:39 AM]

Yujin: Haha perfect! But seriously, that titjob you did... I had to grab a vibrator because it was sooo hot 🔥

[10:40 AM]

Rubydden: OMG, really?! I'm feeling flattered now 🙈

[10:41 AM]

Yujin: Of course!! I’m not gonna lie, you and your guy have crazy chemistry. Ever tried a threesome?

[10:42 AM]

Rubydden: Never tried, actually. But I've always been curious... 🤔 Why, got something in mind?

[10:44 AM]

Yujin: Girl, if you haven't tried it, you're missing out, seriously. I've done it a few times and, for real, it’s amazing. Now, imagine this: me, you, and your guy in a video. It'd break the internet!!

[10:46 AM]

Rubydden: Wow... That definitely sounds like something to think about. I guess I'd have to talk to him first, right?

[10:47 AM]

Yujin: For sure, for sure! But think about it seriously, okay? We could make something super sensual, something that would drive the audience wild. Plus, it’d be a lot of fun 😉

[10:49 AM]

Rubydden: Haha, gosh, I'm nervous just thinking about it. But I won’t lie... the idea is tempting

[10:50 AM]

Yujin: Trust me, girl. It’s gonna be an experience you won’t forget. And, obviously, who could forget you after that?

—

You’re sitting in Eunbi’s room, her laptop open on the desk in front of you, your eyes skimming over the messages again and again. That dialogue on the screen doesn’t just surprise you, it throws you into a world you didn’t even know existed a few months ago.

Yujin?

Collab?

A threesome?

Eunbi, standing beside you, looks at you like she’s already made up her mind. To her, this is just another chance to go viral again. "So?" she says, tapping your shoulder lightly, a carefree smile on her face. "What do you think?"

You swallow hard, the words getting stuck in your throat. "I... I don’t know what to say."

She frowns a little, but still in a playful way, like she’s hearing someone complain about being hot in the summer. "Oh, you never know what to say. Relax. It’s not that complicated." And then, with a twinkle in her eye: "Yujin's hot, right? And she's got millions of followers. If we do this, it’s gonna be huge. Like, huge."

"It’s not that," you mumble, trying to form something coherent, but all logic seems to slip away from you like sand through your fingers. "I mean, it’s just... all of this... it’s so new."

She lets out a soft laugh, like she was expecting exactly that. "Of course it’s new. I still remember us sitting on the couch freaking out, thinking we’d get evicted from our apartment. Everything’s happening so fast, but look where we are now!" She picks up her phone, scrolling through Yujin’s photo gallery, clearly much more comfortable with the idea than you are.

"But I don’t even... know if I want to do this," you admit, trying to understand why your voice sounds so small in this conversation when you should be shouting HEY, I LOVE YOU, CAN WE TALK ABOUT US?!

"It’s okay to not want to... right now," she replies, still half-distracted as she shows you another picture of Yujin, this one even more provocative. "But seriously, look at this. Us and her? It’s gonna break the internet. And you’d be the luckiest guy in the world." She says it like she’s pitching the latest smartphone, full of perks and no downsides.

"I’m not sure ‘lucky’ is the word I’d use," you laugh awkwardly. How do you explain that, in your head, luck would be getting to take her out to dinner, with no cameras or masks in the way?

She frowns, clearly not understanding why you’re not jumping at the idea. "Okay, then what’s the problem?"

Inside, the knot of emotions keeps growing. You’re still trying to process the fact that you’re falling for your best friend. The girl you’ve always shared everything with, who stood by your side through the tough early days of adulthood. You two share something special... but she doesn’t seem to see it the same way. She’s caught up in the work, the followers, the rising fame.

And you?

You’re caught up in the feeling of falling in love with someone who might only see you as a tool for her career.

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and all you can manage is a frustrated sigh.

"I’ll... think about it, okay?"

She gives you a quick hug, like you’ve just agreed to go to her Barbie-themed party. "Relax, it’s gonna be amazing, you’ll see. We’re doing so well! Maybe, when things calm down, we can even take a trip, just the two of us. What do you think?"

You allow yourself a small smile.

A trip, just the two of you?

That sounds almost... romantic.

"Yeah... that sounds nice."

"Yes! I was thinking maybe the Swiss Alps, how about that? Us in a cozy little cabin, snow falling outside, a fireplace burning... perfect, right?" She looks at you, her eyes shining with the idea. For a brief moment, you imagine the two of you together, far away from everything, just enjoying each other’s company. Damn, that would be perfect.

But, of course, Eunbi continues: "And we could shoot a video there! Imagine, us having sex in front of the fireplace, with the snow falling outside... it’d go viral."

You roll your eyes and take a deep breath. Of course.

Because in the end, that’s what it all boils down to. The romance fades faster than your desire to keep this conversation going.

—

You're lying on the couch, engrossed in your book, when you hear the apartment door open. Eunbi had gone out to pick up a package, and you were already used to her dramatic entrances. But the excitement with which she bursts through the door this time makes you suspicious of what on earth is in that box. It could contain anything from a toaster to a new vibrator powerful enough to emit sound waves detectable by a hydrophone at the bottom of the ocean.

“So, what’d you get this time?” you ask without looking up from your book.

“Oh, you'll find out soon enough,” she replies in a voice full of secrets.

You raise an eyebrow but go back to your book. “Right. Whatever it is, I hope it doesn’t explode.”

She disappears into the bedroom, and for a second, everything returns to normal. You almost convince yourself it’s nothing to worry about… until hours later, when another door opens again, this time with the subtlety of a hurricane. And who enters the room is… well, Eunbi, but a version of her that looks like she just walked out of a weird fanfic written by someone with way too much time on their hands.

She’s wearing a schoolgirl skirt that honestly makes you question the sanity of fashion designers and a baby tee she probably last wore many years ago.

You look at her, half incredulous, half amused, and can’t help but laugh. “Okay, what the hell is that?”

Eunbi spins around like a runway model, making the skirt dangerously twirl. “My new costume! For the next video, obviously.”

You tilt your head, a bit cynical. “What video?”

“I mean, our video,” she corrects. “We’re gonna do a roleplay. I’m the younger sister, and you’re the older brother.”

What?

You frown.

“Wait, what?”

But she moves closer, sitting beside you, her hand strategically landing on your thigh. And it’s that kind of hand slide that makes your neurons scream to ignore it, but of course, your body had already betrayed you the second she walked into the room in that… outfit. Now you start to understand that the mysterious box might have had something to do with this transformation.

“I’m going to be your stepsister,” she begins, while her fingers trace slow circles on your leg, “and our parents aren’t home... and I want to show you something. Something I just discovered, you know, like… sex.”

“Oh, sure. Sex,” you say, as if it’s the most revolutionary concept you’ve ever heard. “Because that’s what every little sister does, right?”

She either ignores the sarcasm or just doesn’t care. “Exactly! Oh, and of course, it won't be anything too scripted, we'll just feel the vibe and improvise. It’s going to be our best video yet. It’ll have that… forbidden touch, you know?”

You lean back on the bed, trying to figure out a way out of this. “So… like… can I finish my book first?”

Her eyes gleam with pure determination as she leans in closer, her hand now dangerously high on your thigh. “You can finish later. This will be quick.”

You had spent the last few days deciding that, no, this was too much, that you weren’t going to have sex with Eunbi just to create content anymore. Boundaries, you told yourself. Self-respect. You were more than that, right? You were going to set limits, be firm...

But now, with her hand so close to something that does not respect any rational decision, those words start to feel distant.

Then she delivers the final blow, the argument that should be illegal in any discussion. “And, look, it’ll be my first anal. You’ll get to fuck my ass. And, to make it better, I’ll let you come inside.”

Your synapses short-circuit. All those mature reflections about feelings and dignity… vanish. The decision you had sworn to keep firm just... dies. Just like that.

Her hand is already on your cock, and of course, it’s already rock-hard. Not that you have much of a choice at this point. Your body had already made the decision for you.

“It’ll be fun,” she says with a slight tease, her fingers now playing with your erection. “And I promise I’ll make you feel... very good.”

You try, by some miracle, to keep your composure. “Okay, but... shouldn’t we have, like, talked about this first?”

She looks at you with an expression that clearly says: Are we really having this conversation right now? “The only thing we need to talk about is how much you want to fuck my ass.”

You let out a sigh—whether of surrender, desire, or just because you’re an idiot, you’re not sure.

But deep down, you knew you were defeated the moment she walked into the room wearing that damned skirt.

Of all the absurd decisions you’ve made, this is probably the most obvious one. With your mind utterly overwhelmed by a mix of desire and confusion, you heard yourself saying yes before you had time to process anything more rational—like, for instance, no.

Eunbi smiles as if she's about to invite you to play house, but a version that would never be allowed on any playground. She bounces off the mattress, as if the thrill of seeing you sink into this pit of poor decisions is a small personal victory, and rushes to the bedroom. You hear the sound of boxes being rummaged through. She comes back with a mask and the camera. Your camera, which, let’s be honest, she practically stole from you a long time ago.

"Here," she says, handing you the equipment with a sparkle in her eyes. "Now I’m going to redo the entrance," she continues, already in full actress mode, putting the mask on, "but this time, you’re going to be my older brother, and I’ll be your... well, you already know."

You sigh, half-amused, half-resigned, but lie down on the bed as instructed, slightly frustrated to give up something important to do... this—and yes, you did consider finishing that book important—but, if we're being honest, resisting Eunbi was like trying to hold water in your hands.

You turn on the TV, something generic is on, maybe a show about giant cakes, which, of course, doesn’t match what’s about to happen. You press the record button on the camera.

And this is how it begins:

The bedroom door opens, and there she is, the personification of every possible cliché of fantasies that shouldn’t exist. A schoolgirl skirt that’s way too short, a baby tee that only someone with questionable taste would consider appropriate for anyone past puberty, and a walk that was almost a caricature. But the strangest thing was how much she had changed. It wasn’t just the outfit. It was everything: the posture, the gestures, even the expression on her face. When she approaches and says, “Hey, big brother,” the voice is so sweet it’s almost sickening.

Pure poisoned sugar.

You glance at her as she sits at the edge of the bed, the camera strategically positioned to film from the neck down, focusing on that damned tight baby tee that accentuates her breasts. “Hey,” you reply, casually.

“Parents are gone,” she announces, sitting beside you on the bed. You mutter something vague in response, more focused on surviving the scene than keeping up the act.

“Remember what dad said before he left?” she asks, with that voice that sounds like it’s meant to sell children’s toys or, in this case, sell the idea of something entirely different.

You nod absentmindedly. “Sure, take care of the house. And you.”

She smiles. But it’s not an innocent smile.

No, definitely not.

"Exactly. And I was thinking… shouldn’t you, like, take care of me now?"

“Hmm, take care of you... how?”

She smiles again, and the insinuation in her voice is so heavy it could sink a ship. "I discovered something. Something people do to feel good. And I think we should try it."

You try to fake indifference, which, of course, doesn’t help at all. "Oh yeah? What’s that?"

She leans in a little more, almost whispering. "The man puts the, um, what’s it called? Penis! That’s it! The man puts the penis into... the vagina... I think that’s it. He puts the penis in the woman’s vagina. That makes them feel good." She pauses, watching your reaction. “I want to try that with you.”

You almost choke on your own saliva.

"What? Who told you that?"

She shrugs, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. "Saw it on the internet."

Ah, of course. The internet. The vast well of wisdom and depravity.

Before you could come up with a reasonable excuse to cut this strange performance—something like ‘I can’t do this, sorry’ or ‘please, I just want to finish my book’—her hand was already on your cock. And, to be fair, that’s exactly what your brain didn’t need at that moment.

“Hey, what are you doing now?” you ask, more because you felt you should say something than because you really wanted an answer.

“Let me see your dick, brother,” she said, as if asking to see the TV remote. “Please, please, please!”

"I can't show you that," you retorted, in vain.

She frowned, but in a mischievous way. “I’ll show you what’s under my panties if you show me your dick.”

And, of course, her next move was to part her leg and lift her skirt, revealing the most enticing panties anyone could imagine—pink, with little animal prints, the full provocation package.

Your self-control—or what was left of it—flew out the window. She kept pressing on your dick over your pants, and finally, you gave in. "Alright, alright."

“Yaaay!!”

Eunbi took on the role with an almost disturbing enthusiasm. When you finally gave in and let her pull down your pants, her eyes lit up with exaggerated curiosity, as if she was dealing with something mysterious, incomprehensible, and worthy of scientific study. She looked at your cock like it was a particularly intriguing puzzle—one to be solved not with logic, but with her hands.

"Wow..." she murmured, her words filled with rehearsed admiration. Her fingertips brushed against the warm skin, exploring as if it was the first time she had ever touched a cock. She giggled and, with a touch that was almost innocent (if it weren’t so provocative), started handling it like she was investigating the workings of a new toy.

“It’s... so big!” The words came out with an overly exaggerated tone of surprise.

You tried to maintain some semblance of indifference, but it was like trying to keep a dam intact in the middle of a hurricane. "Careful there," you said, your voice already tense, feeling every light touch as if your cock was now in the hands of an inexperienced mechanic unsure of how to proceed.

She used both hands, holding it with a curiosity that seemed clumsy but intentionally sensual. “Why is it like this? Like, hard... but the skin’s soft at the same time?” The question was so simple, almost comical in its innocence, that you couldn’t hold back a nervous laugh.

“That’s how it works,” you muttered, the effort to keep your head in the game becoming harder as her hands slid more confidently. She squeezed a little more, testing different ways to hold it, as if searching for the perfect grip, her short nails brushing the sensitive skin in a way that made you squirm.

“And these balls down here?” She looked at them with genuine curiosity, playing with your balls, her gaze still so inquisitive that it almost made you laugh again. “What are they for? Do they get hard too?”

“No...” you took a deep breath, trying to explain without completely losing your composure. “I mean, they can get a little hard when they’re full... They’re… sensitive , just... don’t mess with them too much.”

She laughed, clearly amused by the reaction she was provoking. Her touch grew bolder as she became more familiar with what she was doing, running her hands along the entire length, holding your balls with a mix of care and silly curiosity, like she was weighing something valuable. “Oh, so the balls are sensitive...” she teased, laughing mischievously. "I’ll be careful."

She wasn’t, of course. Her touch, though clumsy for the character, was becoming more precise, more intentional. She knew exactly what she was doing, even if the role demanded a forced innocence.

"Can I... try something?" she asked, lying under your legs, her face so close to your dick that you could feel her warm breath on the tip.

"Try what?"

It was an unnecessary question because the answer was already written between the two of you in bold letters. She knew. You knew. Everyone—including the audience watching this later—knew.

“Can I... lick it?” she asked with the same sweetness as someone asking to taste a piece of candy. She tilted her head, her eyes big and bright behind the mask, and without waiting for an answer, lowered her head and gave a timid lick, almost as if she was testing the taste.

You took a deep breath, your muscles tensing involuntarily. "Go ahead..."

She started licking with small, experimental touches, giggling with each new move as if she was genuinely enjoying herself. "It tastes kind of... salty," she commented, like she was talking about a new gourmet ice cream. She laughed again, licking once more, this time with more intention, running her tongue from the base to the tip with an almost disturbing concentration. "Is that good for you?"

"Fuck yes," you responded, trying to control the moan already escaping your throat.

“Then I’ll keep going...” she murmured, smiling satisfied with herself, like a good sister just wanting to make her older brother feel good.

Her movements were a strange, seductive mix of rehearsed hesitation and almost genuine curiosity. The tip of her tongue traced small lines along your skin, up and down, almost like she was discovering a new flavor. She giggled between licks, which for some reason only made the situation hotter. With each touch, the heat in your body intensified.

“You really like this, huh?” she asked with a feigned innocence that you knew was part of the act, but it didn’t make the situation any less provocative. The way she spoke, as if asking an everyday question, contrasted deliciously with the explicit nature of what she was doing.

You let out a low moan, struggling to maintain some control over the situation. “It’s... incredible,” you replied, your voice already shaky.

She paused for a moment, her eyes shining with interest, as if analyzing the situation from a new angle. “So... if this makes you feel so good, what’s the best part?” The question came with that unsettling curiosity of wanting to learn more, wanting to be better at making her brother happy.

You try to stay focused, fighting the urge to just drop the camera and use both hands to make her gag on your dick. But no, she wanted it to be a game, she wanted it slow—you both had roles to play. "The tip," you said, vaguely pointing to the most sensitive part of your dick. “The tip is... where you should focus more.”

Eunbi raised an eyebrow, amusement clear on her face. "The tip?" She looked at your dick with the same exaggerated fascination, her lips moving slowly as she considered the new challenge. "Okay, big brother... If that’s what will make you feel better."

She leaned her head closer, her gaze fixed on the tip of your dick, like she was about to solve a Rubik’s cube. And then, with calculated slowness, she wrapped her lips around the head, giving a light suck, as if tasting something for the first time.

You couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips. The touch of her soft lips, combined with the light pressure of the suction, was simply electrifying. And she seemed to love the reaction she provoked, laughing softly as she continued, her movements increasing in intensity.

“Like this, is it good?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled, as she kept the tip of your dick in her mouth. With each word, the vibration made you lose more and more control.

"Keep going... just like that... it's really good," you managed to say, the words escaping with difficulty. She gave a low, satisfied laugh before going back to what she was doing, now using her tongue to explore the tip with even more curiosity. She swirls her tongue in slow, teasing circles, gently increasing the pressure before relaxing, repeating the motion as if she's experiencing something new each time.

"It's kind of weird," she says suddenly, pulling her mouth away for a second to catch her breath but keeping her hand firmly around your cock, playing with the base like it's something she just learned to use. "But in a good way, you know? Like... kind of funny."

"There's nothing funny about this," you say, almost laughing but trying to keep your composure. "Just... keep doing what you were doing."

She smiles, that mischievous smile that shows she knows exactly what she's doing. "Okay, okay... I'll be a good sister, I promise." And with that, she puts the tip of your cock back in her mouth, now with more determination, sucking with a steady rhythm that makes your whole body react.

You and the camera watch everything, your mind torn between the rising lust and the surrealness of the situation. The way she slips into the role, playing with the idea of being a little sister "discovering" something so dangerous and exciting, only heightens the effect. She sucks the tip with absurd concentration, as if each movement were a new step in a forbidden game.

She pulls the cock out of her mouth again, her hands still busy, and looks at you, eyes gleaming with excitement that comes more from the game than the act itself. "Do you want me to keep going like this? Or should I do something else? I... I can learn quickly, you know."

"So, remember the balls? You can suck them too. I’ll like that a lot."

"You said they’re sensitive, right?" Her voice has that exaggerated tone of curiosity, like she's playing a little sister who wants to learn everything, absolutely everything. "What do I do with these... little balls?"

You, already sunk into the role she’s forcing on you, struggle to keep your voice steady. "Yeah... yes. They’re... sensitive. You can... suck them too. But, carefully."

She raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Suck? Like I did with your cock?"

You nod, the words almost slipping. "Yes. But... slower, okay?"

"Mmm, got it!" she murmurs in a devilishly sweet voice. "I'll take care of you, just like you take care of me."

She lowers her head further, moving slowly down to your balls, as if she’s deliberating her next move. She gives them another lick, experimental and almost casual, like she’s licking a popsicle in front of the TV on a Saturday afternoon, and not your body.

"Like this?" Her voice is loaded with fake innocence, but the mischievous smile on her lips leaves no doubt that Eunbi knows exactly what she’s doing. "Or should I be a bit... more careful?"

You swallow hard. "That’s it, just… a little slower..."

She giggles again, that light laugh that makes it seem like you’re really playing make-believe. But, obviously, what she’s doing is far from that. She tilts her head more and begins licking your balls slowly, this time without hesitation, but still with that touch of exaggerated curiosity.

"It's funny," she comments between licks. "I didn’t know they could get harder." With each word, she lets her tongue glide smoothly over the sensitive skin, teasing in a way that makes everything feel like one big game.

You can barely think of a coherent response. "Yeah... the more you play with the balls, the 'harder' they get," is all you can say, trying to maintain some control while her head moves between the base of your cock and your balls, like she’s deciding which part she likes best.

Then she looks up again, as if a brilliant idea just struck her. "What if I suck it all at once? Do you think I can fit it all in my mouth?"

"Yes... go ahead, try..."

And she does, enveloping your balls with her mouth slowly and carefully, almost with that rehearsed sweetness, like an obedient little sister.

"Am I doing well?" she asks in that sweet little voice, her words muffled as she continues playing with your balls, moving her head side to side, as if she’s, once again, testing the limits of what she can do.

You almost laugh, but it’s a forced laugh, the kind you make when you’ve been taken to a place where reason was lost long ago. "You’re such a good girl!"

She smiles, satisfied. "I want to be the best little sister in the world!"

"Okay, if you really want to be the best little sister in the world, then do as you promised and show me what’s under your panties, alright?" you ask, knowing it’s best to stop for now, or the video will end in just a blowjob.

She obediently stands up, unbuttoning her skirt with deliberate slowness, almost ceremoniously. You get rid of your pants and boxers for good and sit on the edge of the bed. She lets the fabric slide down her thighs to the floor, revealing pink panties. It doesn’t help that she seems genuinely excited about it, like she’s playing with something her parents didn’t allow.

"Do you like it?" she asks, turning slightly to show off the pink panties decorated with little animals and bows on the sides.

You clear your throat, trying to keep your composure, which is a colossal challenge considering the scene. "It’s... yeah, it’s nice."

"Nice?" She pretends to be offended, crossing her arms over her chest. "These panties are cute. I chose them especially for my brother." She emphasizes the ‘brother’ with a tone that should be sweet but only manages to sound dangerously suggestive.

"Sure, sure," you reply, looking away for a second, as if that would help you escape the trap. "Cute."

With an even wider smile, she slowly lowers her panties, revealing her already wet pussy. The ‘little stepsister’ looks at you with a rehearsed expression of pure innocence. "Huh? Why... is it so wet?"

You take a deep breath, knowing that any answer to that question will only dig you deeper. But like any protagonist in a story who’s clearly made the worst decision, you answer: "It’s because... you like me. Your body reacts like that when you... really like someone."

She ponders for a second, as if she’s considering this revelation for the first time. "Ah... that makes sense. I do really like you, you know?"

"Yeah... I like you a lot too," you murmur, as if that would help keep things within some kind of boundary.

"So," she continues, her eyes fixed on yours, "what do we do now, brother? How are you going to take care of me?"

You try to keep your voice calm, even though you know it’s quickly becoming impossible. "Why don’t you start... touching your pussy? Slowly. Just to see how it feels."

She seems surprised, but excited by the suggestion. Slowly, her fingers begin to descend, gliding over her soft skin until they reach her wet pussy. And the moans start, first light, then becoming continuous, accompanied by a smile that drives you crazy.

"Like this?" she asks, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

"Yes, exactly like that," you reply, your voice a little rougher than you’d like, slowly stroking your cock while you film and watch the scene.

She continues, her fingers still timid, almost hesitant, like she’s discovering a new toy and doesn’t know exactly how to use it. She bites her lower lip, clearly enjoying her own curiosity, but you notice that something... is missing.

"No, no... this way it won’t be as good," you say, trying to sound instructional, which is a colossal challenge given the situation. "Let me show you a better way."

She stops, her eyes blinking at you with a mix of surprise and excitement. "Show me? Like... you’re going to teach me, big brother?" She smiles like she’s learning to do homework, except the ‘lesson’ at hand is far from academic.

"Yes... that’s it, I’ll show you. Trust me. Lie down on my bed and open your legs."

You stand up as she does what you asked, her legs slowly spreading to give you full access. With a sigh, you slide your hand between her thighs, your fingers lightly brushing her warm, damp pussy.

She trembles slightly at the touch, letting out a soft moan. "What are you going to do...?"

"Just relax, okay? You'll feel much more pleasure that way," you respond, still in 'older brother instructing' mode, because somehow that twisted logic makes sense right now.

Your fingers find her clit, and you start making slow circles, pressing just the right way—the way you know will make her writhe with pleasure. And, as expected, her moans intensify, her hips moving involuntarily against your hand.

"Ah... this is... so much better," she whispers, her eyes half-closed, her voice now more drawn out, almost surprised at the intensity of what she's feeling. "This feels so good, you're making me feel so good!" She arches her back, getting more lost in the touch, her hands squeezing her breasts, still covered by the baby tee, her moans echoing through the room. "This... this is incredible," she breathes between sighs. "Do it again, brother. Do it like that."

You comply, your fingers now firmer, exploring the small spasms of her body, each touch precise to make her feel more, to make her moan louder. Her breathing becomes ragged, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, and for a moment, the absurd theatrics of the situation disappear, replaced by a raw, physical connection.

"You like that, don’t you?" you ask, knowing the answer is obvious.

"I love it... Mmm, I didn't know I could feel this way." she replies, her voice broken. "You're... you're the best brother I could ever have."

Your fingers move faster now, firm and precise, playing her body like an instrument, each stroke making her tremble. She's gasping, eyes closed, writhing beneath you, her hips rising and falling against your hand. It's a hypnotic sight—almost like watching a chaotic dance, where her body is the instrument, and you, the conductor.

"Ah... brother, I... I’m feeling something strange..." she murmurs, her voice hoarse, almost trembling.

You smile, keeping your tone calm, as if you've been through this before. "It's normal... just relax and let it happen. It'll feel good, trust me."

She lets out a long, nearly broken moan as her body begins to lose control, her muscles contracting involuntarily around your hand. The camera is focused on her movements, capturing every contortion, every muffled moan, as if it were the final piece of a banned masterpiece in several countries.

"Ah, ah... I can't... Oooh..." She begins to beg, her words dissolving into pure sound, as your fingers continue, relentless, pressing and circling, giving no reprieve.

"That's it, let it out... it'll feel good, just let it all out." You encourage her, your voice soft, almost paternal, a sharp irony considering the context.

And then, it happens. She arches sharply, her body trembling violently, and you feel her wet heat spill over your hand. She comes with a scream that echoes through the room, her moans transforming into a primal sound, pure instinct and release. You keep playing her, extending the moment until the last spasm fades.

The camera captures everything—the unbridled pleasure, the ecstasy etched into every curve of her body. Every tremor and sigh are recorded.

When she finally collapses on the bed, exhausted, her breathing uneven, you gently pull your fingers away, bringing your soaked hand up to the camera lens for a close-up.

"Good job, little sister," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice. She just giggles, exhausted but satisfied, her body still trembling with the last traces of pleasure.

"I knew I could trust you," she murmurs, eyes closed, a satisfied smile on her lips.

"But we're not done yet," you say. "I want you to get on all fours for me, I'll show you something.”

Eunbi eagerly complies, lying face down with that almost naive obedience, arching her back with the precision of someone who's done this before. And you, in the role of the responsible older brother, observe and film.

"Now open that ass," you say, giving her a light slap that makes her skin ripple, and without question, she pulls her small hands to spread her cheeks, revealing her tight little asshole and wet pussy, everything perfectly exposed.

You run your fingers over her pussy, wetting them carefully, like you're preparing for a sacred ritual. Then you slide the wet finger down to her tight little asshole. She shifts a bit but stays in position, letting out a low moan as you finally push the finger inside.

"This little ass is precious, you know?" you say, almost in a teacherly tone as your finger slowly explores. "No one else can play with it but me. Just me."

She moans again, a sound mixed with pleasure and a promise about to be made. "I know, brother. It’s yours... only yours."

Her voice sounds sweet, almost begging for more, and you increase the pressure with your finger, pushing a little deeper, testing how far you can go. She arches her back even more, as if trying to make your job easier, offering her body.

"Good to know you understand," you tease, and she murmurs something in agreement. "Because if anyone else tries, there’s going to be a problem, understood?"

She bites her lip, her fingers still holding her cheeks apart. "I promise, brother... it’s only yours."

You smile, satisfied with her promise. "That’s how I like it."

Eunbi remains there, face down, obedient, her hands gripping her cheeks firmly, opening herself to you as if this were the natural purpose of her existence. Her breathing is heavy but eager as your fingers explore, playing with the tight little asshole still learning what it means to belong to someone. You feel the heat of her skin, and the way she trembles with each of your movements makes it clear that despite everything, she's enjoying it.

"Good girl," you say in a tone of approval that sounds almost paternal, moving your finger with more determination now, circling slowly before pressing in again. She lets out a shaky sigh, biting her lip and closing her eyes as if trying to focus on anything other than the pleasurable discomfort you're causing.

"It... it hurts," she admits in a trembling voice, as if revealing a secret, but then immediately moans again, that strange mix of pain and desire. "But it feels good..." She arches her back a little more, as if to encourage you, even as her body struggles to adjust to the new sensation.

You chuckle, pleased with her progress. Then you wet your fingers more in her pussy.

"It’s going to hurt a bit at first," you admit, moving the wet finger more slowly now, just to test her limits. "But don’t worry. Soon enough your little ass will get used to it." The promise is made in a reassuring tone.

Eunbi lets out a louder moan as you penetrate a little deeper, her fingers gripping her cheeks tighter as if trying to steady herself. She moves, arching her back into an even more inviting angle, legs slightly apart. "You... you think?" Her voice is a mix of insecurity and excitement, almost as if she's asking for more.

"I know," you respond, soaking in the confidence of the role, moving your finger with more rhythm, teasing her. "You're a good girl, and good girls always learn fast."

She moans again, her face buried in the mattress, but her arched back continues offering everything you've asked for and more. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna be a good girl for you, brother. I promise..."

You pause for a moment, your fingers still wet from the recent exploration. Eunbi—or, for the purposes of this performance, your ‘stepsister’—breathes deeply, still arched, her body tense with anticipation. The atmosphere is thick, and for a brief second, you just stand there, silently absorbing every almost imperceptible tremor running down her spine. The camera, your silent partner, focuses on every nuance of her expression, every shiver.

“It’s time for you to find out what you’ve been wanting, princess,” you say.

“Please… put your cock in me.”

"Say please," you respond, your voice low, so heavy with desire you barely recognize it. "Be a good girl and ask politely."

Eunbi, ever the meticulous actress, turns her face toward you, her wide eyes behind the mask with an innocence that only exists in fiction—those big eyes, the kind that say ‘I’m pure, I swear,’ even when nothing happening in the room suggests anything remotely innocent. Her breathing is fast, like a theater student at the peak of their dramatic performance.

"Please..." Her voice is a fragile whisper, but sweet, carefully rehearsed to sound vulnerable. "Please, brother... I want you to put your thick cock inside my tight little pussy."

Ah, there it is. The final barrier collapsed with the weight of a house of cards pushed by a breeze. You can’t help but smile—not that the camera can catch it—as you adjust your position with the precision of a watchmaker fine-tuning a delicate gear. The heat emanating from her body is magical, and when you finally penetrate her, slowly, each inch is consumed by her pussy, which wraps around you with a softness that defies reality.

She lets out a moan—the kind of sound that floats between pleasure and surprise, as if she’s being taken into unknown territory while, at the same time, exactly where she wanted to be. "Like that... like that... please," she moans, her voice strained, fingers gripping the sheets as if she’s on the brink of an existential revelation and only the sheets can keep her from being pulled into the abyss.

You start to move, oscillating between slow and deliberate, savoring the moment like you’re tasting the finest wine in the world, while she whispers sweet words between moans.

“Yeah, good girl!” you say softly.

The pace increases, the sound of bodies colliding echoes through the room, and as Eunbi arches her back, moaning for more with an almost religious fervor, you feel like you’re in control of not just her, but the entire scene.

You begin to pick up the pace, your movements gaining a life of their own. Beneath you, Eunbi is moaning non-stop, each sound a bit louder, a bit more desperate. Then, with the precision of a medieval archer hitting the bullseye, your hand comes down fast and firm on her ass.

The slap echoes through the room like an unexpected sound. The impact is immediate: her skin turns a reddish hue, the contrast clear and satisfying against her pale skin. Eunbi lets out a moan that’s half pain, half pleasure—the kind of sound that makes you want to repeat the action just to hear it again.

"More," she moans, her eyes half-closed, her voice muffled by the sheets, as if talking to herself but at the same time asking directly for you. "Please, spank me more, brother!!”

Ah, how could you resist such a polite request? Your hand comes down again, harder this time, leaving another red mark, and her body writhes in pleasure. You begin to alternate between thrusts and slaps, creating a symphony of pleasure and impact that seems to defy the basic rules of decency.

"You like that, don't you?" you say, your voice thick with provocation, as your hand meets her ass again and again, each slap resonating like a gong in a distant temple—or, in this case, the perfect sound of approval for what you two are doing.

"Yes!" she moans, the words coming out in broken breaths, "please... don’t stop!" She raises her hips higher, almost begging for more, and you, always generous, don’t disappoint.

Another slap. Harder. Her body reacts instantly, and the moans turn into something almost primal, as if she’s surrendering completely to the sensation.

"You’re a good girl, baby," you say. "But good girls need to be reminded who’s in control."

She only moans in response, her breathing ragged, her body completely given over to the moment. And, of course, you're more than willing to keep claiming territory, with each slap and thrust taking both of you closer to an inevitable climax.

You stop for a moment, feeling the sweat drip down your forehead, looking at Eunbi and the red marks you left on her buttocks.

“Now, be a good girl and ride me,” you say. “You’re going to like this position, I promise.”

You pause the recording.

Eunbi, obedient and eager as always, pulls away from you, giving you room to lie down on the bed. And then, with a grace that would make any mythological goddess jealous, she positions herself over you. For a brief second, your eyes meet hers, and there’s that exchange of complicity. That look that says: ‘Yes, we know exactly what we’re doing.’

You resume recording.

She lowers herself onto your cock, with a slowness that’s almost torturous, but at the same time, delicious. With every inch she takes in, you feel her warmth enveloping you, the tightness that almost defies logic. She moans softly, adjusting her body, and starts to move. Slow at first, learning the right rhythm.

But, of course, that doesn’t last long.

Soon, she’s riding with more intensity, picking up the pace. Her breasts bounce under the tight baby tee, and then, with a swift movement, she pulls the fabric up, revealing her large breasts that now move freely to the rhythm of her ride.

You can’t resist – who could? – and zoom in on her breasts. Her moans, the bouncing breasts, the hips moving up and down with precision. The camera can barely keep up, but you’re not exactly thinking about perfect angles right now.

This is living art, and you’re documenting every second as best you can.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you say, half to her, half to the video. “Keep going, my good girl.”

Eunbi bites her lip, increasing the pace even more, and the room is filled with sounds – the bed creaking, her moans getting louder, the slap of bodies meeting. Your fingers grip her waist, helping to guide her, but the truth is, she’s in control for now.

And honestly, you’re not complaining.

She tilts her head back, eyes closed, her whole body focused on the frenzied movement. “Do you like watching me like this?” she asks between moans, with that completely calculated innocence, knowing exactly the effect her words have.

“You have no idea,” you reply, your voice hoarse, as you keep filming, knowing this recording will be something people will want to watch – many times.

The way she moves, even as her body consumes you inch by inch, is a balance between the innocent and the forbidden, as if she’s trying to convince you that she really is a good girl, only with a very, very fertile imagination.

“Please, brother...” she murmurs, almost in a whisper, leaning forward. The words come out in a sweet tone, with a hint of hesitation, as if testing the limits of roleplay with each syllable. “Do you think I’m being a good girl... for you?”

You smile, unable to hold back the sadistic pleasure that surfaces with the question. Your hand moves up her thigh, squeezing firmly. “You’re doing very well, little sister,” you reply. “But good girls can do better. Come on, show me how much you want to be the best.”

She bites her lip, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and nervousness – part of the act, of course, but brilliantly performed. “I... I can do better,” she says, trying her best to sound shy, as if begging for your approval. “I promise I can be the best little sister for you. Just... let me show you.”

And then, she lifts herself again and starts moving with more intensity, speeding up as her hands rest on your abs for balance. Her moans grow louder, almost stuttered, but she keeps the sweetness in her voice. “This feels so good... do you like seeing me like this, brother?” She asks, as if genuinely concerned about your verdict.

You don’t answer immediately, just watching her with that calculated expression. “You haven’t convinced me yet,” you finally say, your words sharp. “Good girls need to try harder. If you want to be my favorite, you’re going to have to work for it.”

Her eyes widen in mock concern, her breathing coming in heavier pants as her effort increases. She leans forward, her hair falling around her face as she continues to ride you, her movements becoming more intense, and the steady pace she maintains pushes you over the edge. “Brother... I’m trying,” she says between moans, her voice tinged with a mixture of effort and supposed innocence, as if the simple act of continuing is proof of her dedication. “Are you... are you enjoying it? Am I being a good girl right now?”

Your smile widens, seeing how far she’s willing to go to keep the fantasy alive. “You’re almost there, baby,” you reply with a superior tone, enjoying the power of the moment. “But good girls don’t just try. They give it their all. Show me how much you want this.”

She lets out a small moan, her eyes filled with an intensity that seemed to be growing with each movement. “I… I can do more,” she murmurs, picking up speed, her thighs now pressed against your body, rising and falling at an almost frantic pace. Her breasts bounce with the force of her ride, and her lips tremble with the effort, but she keeps going, determined.

“That’s it,” you murmur, your eyes locked on hers as you watch the hypnotic sway of her exposed breasts. “Good girl. Keep it up. Do it right!"

She bites her lip hard, clearly struggling to please you, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly as she picks up the pace even more. “I… I’m doing this for you, brother,” she moans, her voice sweet and broken, feigning complete devotion. “I want you to love me. I want to be your favorite girl. Please… love me…”

You grip her waist, helping to guide her movements. Her body moves down harder, with more determination. “If you keep it up, I might just love you,” you tease, tightening your grip. “But only if you really try. Go on, faster. Show me how much you want to be my good girl.”

She obeys, her moans louder now, mixed with panting breaths. “I’ll be… I promise,” she barely manages to say between her rapid movements. “I’ll be your good girl. The best one ever. I swear!”

“Then make me cum,” you say, your voice low and controlled, but full of expectation. “Only good girls know how to do this. Will you make it, little sister? Will you show me that you deserve it?”

She responds with only a strangled moan: “I- I w-will!”

“Then turn over,” you demand, your voice low but full of command. She stops riding you slowly, a smile on her lips, as if she’s been waiting for this order all along. She carefully turns her body, now facing away from you, her ass sticking up in a way that leaves her completely exposed. “Now you’re going to let me play with your asshole.”

"Brother... you're going to take care of me, right? Mommy and daddy said you needed to take care of me."

"Of course I'll take care of you. But now you're going to let me play with your asshole." You take your cock in one hand, holding it tight like a guide. "Come on."

She hesitates for a second, biting her lip with a hint of insecurity—not of the Eunbi you know, but of the character she's playing. "B-But... what are you going to do there, brother? You shouldn't..."

"Trust me," you murmur, almost out of patience now. "You're going to like it, it's going to make you feel really, really good."

She lets out a small moan, leaning forward, and you start to press in slowly. Entry is difficult—the pink ring of muscle resists at first, tight and almost impenetrable, as if her body is trying to say no while her mind and desire say otherwise.

"It's too tight..." she murmurs, her voice full of feigned nervousness, part of the act. But at the same time, there's something real in that sound, the little tremor in her voice as she tries to adjust herself... It's Eunbi's first anal too, not just the character's. "Do you think it'll really fit, brother?"

"It will fit," you say, your voice low, controlled, with a promise of pleasure behind it. "Just relax. You trust your brother, don't you?"

She nods, inch by inch, you feel her body giving in. The initial resistance gives way to a delicious pressure when it finally goes in. She lets out a loud moan, surprised.

“Mmm, brother… this… this is so different.” Her voice sounds vulnerable, almost shy, as she begins to move slightly, trying to get used to the intrusion.

“You’re being a good girl,” you reply, controlling the pace, thrusting in and out slowly. “You’ll like it more as you keep going.” And with each movement, each slow thrust, she begins to loosen up, her moans getting louder, her body adjusting to the pleasure.

“Come on, brother… take care of me,” she whispers.

“You’re making me so proud, baby. Your ass is perfect.”

“Ooohh, brother…” She lets out a long sigh, trying to adjust, moving her hips slightly, exploring the new sensation. “Why does this… feel so wrong, yet so good?” Her voice is of calculated innocence that drives you wilder with each passing moment.

“It’s because… sometimes, the best things are the ones we shouldn’t do,” you reply, controlling your tone to keep your character, even though the pleasure is almost knocking you over. You push deeper, feeling her insane grip. “And you’ve always been a curious girl, right? Wanting to try everything…”

She lets out a little laugh, although the tension is still there, hidden beneath the surface. “I am curious, yes, brother… I want to learn everything from you.” Then, she starts moving again, slowly at first, moving up and down hesitantly. “Do you think… I’m a good girl for wanting this?”

You can’t keep calm any longer. Her words, that sweet tone mixed with boldness, are destroying you inside. “You’re the best girl, the hottest, the most obedient,” you reply, your voice husky with desire as you hold her hips tightly to help her keep the rhythm.

“So, I’m going to make my big brother happy,” she murmurs, and with that, she starts riding you harder, her movements more confident now, her hesitation disappearing with each passing second. Each time she goes down, you feel the crushing pressure and heat, a tightness that makes you see stars. Eunbi’s moans are getting louder and louder, and beyond the character, you know how much she’s enjoying this.

“That’s it, like that,” you encourage, your hands now squeezing her ass. “Keep going, baby… show your brother how much you want to make him happy.”

Eunbi arches her back, throwing her hips back with more desire, the sound of their skin slapping against each other echoing through the room. “I’m going to… I’m going to take care of you,” she moans, between giggles, clearly enjoying the role. “But you have to take care of me too, okay? Because I’m just your little stepsister… I can’t do everything on my own…”

Her answer is almost fatal to your sanity. You pull her hips harder, helping her to go all the way down, feeling the overwhelming pleasure consume you. “I’ll take care of you,” you promise, without even thinking about the words. “I’ll teach you everything.”

She speeds up her movements, and now the room is filled with the sounds of her body against yours, her moans getting louder, more desperate. “Brother…” she begins, her voice filled with a mix of pleasure and excitement, “I think... I think I’m really enjoying this. You like being in my tight ass, don’t you?”

You almost laugh at her brazenness, but the pleasure is too much. “I love it,” you reply, feeling the urgency take over. “You’re being so good to me. Now, let me fill you with pleasure... until you can’t take it anymore.”

Eunbi continues riding, her movements now more desperate, her face clearly torn between keeping character and giving herself completely to the pleasure. “Aaaah, brother… You'll fill my ass with your cum, right? Because... you promised to take care of me.”

Her head tilts back a little, a mischievous smile lighting up her face, but her moans cut off any possible response. You’re close, so close that words no longer make sense, but the roleplay is still in the air, and you know Eunbi is going to push all the way in.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna make you cum so much, big brother. Because you’re the best brother in the world,” she moans, grinding harder, and you feel like you won’t last much longer.

“You’re going to make your brother so happy… now, get on all fours because your brother is close… I’m gonna fuck your ass until I cum.”

Eunbi lets out a short laugh, her breathing still ragged from the effort and pleasure. She slides out of you slowly, almost provocatively, and you can see how much her asshole has already opened up with your cock. When she finally stands up, she throws that playful look over her shoulder, biting her lip as if she knows exactly what she's doing.

“On all fours?” She asks, with false innocence, as she positions herself on the bed. “Do you want your sister to be like this, brother? Do you want to fill my tight asshole with your milk?”

The answer doesn't need to be verbalized — your body already speaks for you. She leans on the bed, sticking her ass up, her back arched perfectly, offering everything provocatively. The ridiculously short baby tee remains raised, her heavy breasts hanging from her body.

“You know how to obey, don't you? Good girl…”

Without further hesitation, you stand behind her, your hand running down her body, exploring the perfect curve of her hips and the pulsing heat of her skin. The camera is well positioned, capturing every angle of the final moment. Her pussy is wet, swollen with excitement, but it’s her asshole that you want now, and she knows it. Your firm hand positions itself on her ass cheeks, slowly spreading her, revealing the tight little hole that barely hides how much she enjoyed every second of it.

“Are you ready, little sister? Because now I’m going to put everything in you… and I won’t stop until I cum deep inside your ass.”

She looks back, smiling. “I trust you, brother. Do whatever you want with me.”

With that, you line up your hard cock against her narrow entrance and begin to thrust. It’s still tight, incredibly tight, and the initial resistance only makes the pleasure more intense. Eunbi lets out a muffled moan as the head of your cock finally enters, her body adjusting to the size with a mix of discomfort and pleasure.

“Ah... like that,” she moans. “My asshole is burning so much... but it’s so good.”

You push deeper, inch by inch, until you’re completely inside. The pressure is unbearable, the heat and firmness of Eunbi’s asshole squeezing you in an overwhelming way. With your hand firmly placed on her hip, you begin to push slowly, feeling her tight asshole slowly give way.

The camera focuses on this movement, of course, because, after all, the show is for the audience.

Eunbi lets out a moan, something between surprise and pleasure. “Mmm, you are so big, brother,” she murmurs, her voice cracking with the effort of keeping the role.

You go deeper, the camera recording every movement, every inch. “It's because good girls deserve big cocks,” you tease, thrusting harder now, each thrust eliciting a louder moan from her.

“I am,” she replies between gasps. “A good girl... just for you.”

The moans grow louder as you pick up the pace, fucking her ass with increasing force. The camera shakes a little in your hand, but it’s capturing everything, every detail of Eunbi’s masked expression as she grips the sheets, her fingers digging into the fabric.

As the pace intensifies, the tension in the room builds to a breaking point, and you feel the inevitable wave of pleasure about to spill over. Eunbi is panting, her moans turning into excited whispers. Your free hand grips her ass cheek tightly, keeping her open, and her tight asshole wraps around your cock like a hot trap. You know you’re close to the end, and the thought of it only increases the urgency.

"You... are going to take it all, aren't you?" The question comes out almost like a command, her voice hoarse with pleasure. The camera, forgotten for a second, shakes slightly in her hand, but it's still capturing everything.

"Yes, yes!!" she gasps, her eyes rolling back in their sockets, something the camera unfortunately doesn't capture. "I'm going to take it all! I want... I want you to fill my ass, please! ‘Cause I'm your good girl... your favorite stepsister."

Every word, spoken in that sweet, lustful voice, only makes you harder, closer to climax. You grip her hips and thrust hard, each thrust sinking deeper, every inch of your cock being devoured by that unbearable tightness.

"You like your brother's cock, don't you?" Her voice is deep now, full of the energy of someone who knows she's in control. "Tell me. Tell me what you want!"

“I... I love it!!,” she moans, her voice cracking with pleasure, as if she were about to come undone right there. “I want you to cum inside... please, make me yours, for real... Cum inside your sister!”

And that’s what pushes you over the edge.

With one last thrust, you sink your cock all the way in, feeling her body tremble with the impact. The heat begins to spread inside her, the cum spurting with an almost unbearable intensity, filling the tight little asshole of the “little stepsister” who is moaning in pleasure beneath you.

“Mmm... Fuck! Do you feel it, baby?” you tease, thrusting hard as the last hot spurt of cum floods her. “This is what you wanted, right? To be a good girl for your brother.”

She lets out a long moan, her shoulders shaking, her legs weak with pleasure. “Yes, baby… Mmm, I'm feeling all your cum deep inside me!”

You stay inside her for a few more seconds, feeling the heat of her body and the involuntary squeeze of her ass around your cock. Eunbi takes a deep breath, her moans now fading, but the satisfied smile still on her face.

"You made me feel so special," she murmurs, still in the role. "Now I'm your favorite little girl, right? Because I'm the only one who gets your cum."

You pant, lost in pleasure, your eyes closed as you answer: "It's always been you, baby... always you."

You're still breathing heavily, like you just ran a marathon, but your mind has already switched into content production mode — the ship had already sunk, so might as well make this worth something.

With the camera still in hand, you lean in for a better shot.

“Alright, show me the result,” you say bluntly, pointing the camera at the target.

Eunbi moves slowly, resting her elbows on the mattress, her legs still trembling a bit, and with a satisfied smile on her face, she spreads her cheeks with her hands, fully opening the angle for the lens.

“Is this good?” she asks with that fake sweetness you now recognize as part of the performance, but it still works anyway.

“Perfect,” you reply, adjusting the focus, the lens capturing every detail. She spreads her ass slightly, and the cum inside slowly drips out, a bright white line lazily descending, as if it knows it's the star of the show.

“Now look at the camera, baby,” you ask, while she turns her head back, her masked eyes meeting the lens with that look of pure satisfaction. “Tell them what just happened.”

Eunbi, without hesitation, slips into the sweet and innocent tone of her role, “Look what he did to me... filled my little ass with cum.” She giggles, and it's genuine, mixed with that post-climax thrill. “I guess you really like me, huh, bro?”

“Of course I do,” you say, more as part of the act than anything else.

But deep down, there’s something there that isn’t just performance.

“Now rub it a little,” you ask. Eunbi giggles, and you help her, pulling one of her cheeks while she starts rubbing a finger around the entrance, mixing your semen with her juice.

“See that, bro?” she asks with an adorable giggle, “Now I’m all dirty because of you!”

The camera focuses on the scene as you let out a tired but satisfied moan. “I can see that, princess. You got really messy.”

She keeps playing with her fingers, spreading the remnants of your load provocatively, knowing exactly how to play to the lens. “And now, what are you gonna do to me? You left my little ass all wrecked, it’s burning a lot…”

You pretend to think, but the answer is obvious. “Well, I guess now I need to take care of you, don’t I?”

“With love?” she asks, voice full of tenderness.

“With a lot of love,” you reply.

The camera finally shuts off with that classic final beep, like it’s exhausted too. You let out a sigh, while Eunbi, still catching her breath, stands up and removes the mask.

"Yeah, game over," you say, placing the camera on the desk. The vibe shifts instantly. The heavy air from the scene disappears, and the apartment feels normal again, like it had been put in studio mode for a brief moment.

Eunbi stretches her arms like she’s just woken up from a nap, then extends a hand toward you. You high-five, like two classmates finishing a school project instead of… well, what you just did.

“We did good,” she says with a tired but satisfied smile. “Teamwork was solid.”

“Yeah, it was,” you respond, still trying to process it all. “You okay? I mean... because of, you know...”

She laughs, shaking her head. “The anal? Oh, I should have used the fucking lube. But I’m fine. It stings a little, but it'll pass," she explains, as if she’s talking about a mild sunburn.

You’re not sure if you should feel relieved or admire how casually she handles it. Before you can overthink it, Eunbi suddenly turns and hugs you. The warmth of her body against yours is almost comforting, even with sweat still drying on your skin. “Seriously, thanks for doing this with me,” she murmurs, her voice soft, almost vulnerable.

You stand there, a bit awkward, but aware that this moment matters. “It was kinda… weird, right?”

She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, chuckling lightly. “Weird? Of course it was weird. But, like, in a funny way. It was a little bizarre at first, but then it was just… getting into character. In the end, we just… made it work.” She shrugs, and the gesture is so typical of her—practical, lighthearted, never taking things too seriously.

“Next time,” she says, pulling off her tight baby tee, “I’ll pick something less... out of the comfort zone.”

She laughs and casually grabs her panties and skirt from the floor.

You watch as she straightens up and walks toward the bedroom door, already slipping back into her natural self, as if the scene had just been a quick detour from routine.

“Wanna shower with me?” she asks, with no malice, just a simple invitation after a particularly exhausting marathon.

You hesitate, a second that feels like forever. The temptation to give in once more is strong. It’d be so easy to say 'yes,' to go with the flow. But you shake your head, declining. "I'll go later... I need to make the bed."

She raises an eyebrow, surprised by the refusal, but doesn’t push. “Alright,” she says with an easy smile, already heading for the shower. But before she crosses the door, she turns, like she’s about to say something important. You even brace yourself, expecting some post-scene revelation, some deep reflection.

“Feel like pizza tonight?” she asks, with not a trace of tension or seriousness.

“Yeah… I guess,” you reply vaguely, still trying to keep up with how quickly she shifts gears.

And then it’s just you and the messy bed. The camera’s still there, the sheets that need fixing, but what really needs fixing is your head. You wish you hadn’t agreed to film. Hadn’t let her hands on your skin convince you again. But how do you resist Eunbi when, with that smile and a promise, she makes everything seem like one big fun game, a fantasy that’s too easy to fall into?

Except while she can turn off the character with a snap and get back to her practical life, you’re stuck. Because it’s not the role that’s messing with your head, it’s what’s behind it. It’s what you feel for her, something you know shouldn’t exist and that Eunbi clearly doesn’t share. To her, it’s work, pleasure, about views and clicks. And sure, who would turn down being the lucky partner in a porn video with Eunbi?

But at the end of the day, is that all you are? You sigh, trying to focus on fixing the bed, while inside, the knot tightens.

—

It’s a cloudy morning, with that fine misty rain that barely gets you wet but can soak you through if you stand still for two minutes. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, tying the laces on your running shoes. Running is something you used to do every day, a habit you let go of for some reason that now escapes you. But today is different. You’ve decided to start running again because, as always, it helps organize the mental chaos that has become your life lately.

As you pass through the hallway, Eunbi’s bedroom door is half-open. You think about closing it to keep the warmth in, but a glow from inside stops you. It’s the light from her laptop. You hesitate, but of course, your curiosity wins. You peek in as casually as possible, and there she is: Eunbi, sleeping in a way that’s both adorable and awkward, with the laptop still on beside her, like it fell asleep with her, exhausted from hours of work. Or from whatever she spent the night editing.

You can’t help it. In fact, it’s impossible to resist. Seeing her sleep so peacefully stirs something in you, only making the mess in your head worse. Why does she have to be so… Eunbi? You walk over, switch off the laptop that’s still open on the OnlyFans homepage, with the notification icon showing +99 interactions. You close the lid carefully and place it on the desk. Then, you adjust the blankets that are haphazardly draped over her.

She stirs a bit but doesn’t wake up.

—

You start running in the park, with that light rain and cold wind cutting across your face—the kind of weather the meteorologists would call 'uncomfortable,' but you would call 'perfect for clearing your head.' Each step on the wet pavement echoes in your ears. With every breath, your chest tightens, not just from the cold, but because the only thing more intense than the physical effort is the whirlwind of thoughts now screaming in your mind.

Eunbi. Always her. Like a beautiful shadow you can’t shake. The images from last night, the mask, the dirty talk, the way she always seems to know exactly how to melt any resistance you try to build up. You almost laugh, bitterly, realizing just how pathetic it is to be stuck in this cycle.

Fuck, the truth is you’ve been hopelessly in love with her for a while now. Of course, you have, but the problem isn’t knowing it—it’s figuring out what to do about it. You’re running, trying to escape the reality that no matter how much you love Eunbi, she seems to be in a completely different universe. A universe where she can suggest absurd things, like some ridiculous roleplay or a threesome, while you, the idiot, are more worried about the color of the blanket you adjusted for her earlier.

Sweat drips down your forehead, mixing with the rain. You pick up the pace, trying to turn this confusion into clarity. You can’t keep living on this emotional rollercoaster. Every time she involves you, you convince yourself it’s just your body being used as a tool, just another role to play to help her grow in this obscure niche.

But with every touch, every smile, your mind whispers: What if it’s not?

What if, somehow, she’s just as lost in this as you are?

Maybe if you finally tell her how you feel, the pieces will fall into place. She could leave this life of videos, masks, and scripts behind. It would be a release for both of you. And then, you could have something normal. A real relationship. One that doesn’t involve cameras and personas. The idea starts to take shape, becoming clearer with every mile you run. You love Eunbi. Simple. And you need to tell her. Simple as that.

Well, in theory.

The park is empty, except for a few brave souls who also thought running in the cold was a fantastic idea. You run one more lap, your body asking for rest, but your mind now buzzing with purpose. When you get back to the apartment, you’ll tell her. Direct and honest.

Then your phone vibrates. You slow down, your shoes hitting the wet ground more softly as you pull out your phone. A message. It’s from your friend. I think it worked, he writes. Your heart races in a different way this time. HR liked her profile. I think they’re gonna make an offer, man. Stay tuned. You almost slip on the path, coming to a sudden stop.

What worked? Oh, right. The plan.

The plan you secretly put together.

The job opening at the company where your friend works, in the marketing department.

The one where you secretly submitted Eunbi’s LinkedIn profile, trying to give her a chance to get out of this crazy content creator life.

Looks like the damn universe is finally working in your favor.

You find yourself smiling like an idiot.

‘It worked.’

She could have a normal life, away from the cameras, and you could start fresh together.

You barely even feel the fatigue anymore.

Now there’s only one thing left: the conversation with Eunbi.

Because, of course, confessing your feelings to a woman you see every day, who sleeps in the room next to yours, with whom you’ve been through situations that would challenge any definition of ‘strange,’ should be easy, right?

You take a deep breath.

No, it won’t be easy.

But it’ll be worth it.

—

Eunbi is in the kitchen, still looking half-asleep as she holds a cup of coffee. The dim light from the cloudy morning mixes with the cold glow of her phone screen, which she scrolls through lazily with her thumb. The coffee—a blend of ‘I need to wake up’ and’ 'I’m not sure this will help’—warms her hands, but her mind is far from awake. Her reflection on social media, though, is wide awake.

With an automatic gesture, she opens the comment tab on the latest video. It’s the new roleplay video you and she recorded the day before. The video had already racked up an impressive number of views. She sighs, taking a sip as she reads through the comments. It’s the usual mix of praise, teasing, and, of course, the kind of absurdity only the internet can provide.

"Little sis, you drove me crazy today!"

Eunbi lets out a muffled laugh. "Little sis" was probably the mildest term she came across in that sea of comments.

She quickly types a reply:

"Careful, or 'big brother' will get you too! 😘"

"I wish I were your blood brother, damn, just to make it all wrong!! I'd sneak into your room every night after our parents were asleep so we could 'play' together 😈"

Who knew people could take a weird fantasy and make it even more bizarre and unsettling?

"You need therapy, darling, but thanks for the love 🙂"

"The way you bit your lip... it made me... lose my mind."

Ah yes, the detail-oriented observers. They're always around.

"Glad I could help!!"

And then comes the classic:

"Step on me more, mommy!!!"

This time, she laughed out loud. What kind of twisted logic was this?

'Mommy' in a little sister video?

"Sweetie, pick a fantasy. I can't be your little sis AND your mommy at the same time 😅"

"Just show your face already, everyone knows you're hot"

She paused for a second. That comment felt like a jab somewhere inside her. Her face was the last piece she kept hidden, the final wall of protection between Eunbi and the world she had chosen to explore.

She took another sip of coffee as the comments kept popping up on the screen. The amount of absurdity was always a surprise, even for her. But the show had to go on, and responding was an important part of ‘engagement’.

Ah, the wonderful engagement.

"You’re my muse. One day, I’ll marry you!"

She rolled her eyes but kept a polite tone in her reply:

"Glad to inspire... but let’s start with something simpler, like not marrying strangers from the internet.

Kisses 😘"

Next comment.

"I'd give anything to be that tight top on your massive tits 😊"

Eunbi nearly dropped her phone from laughing so hard. What kind of fetish was this now? She took a deep breath before typing:

"Well, it’s actually a baby tee, but I guess clothes live too dull a life for anyone to want to be one. But who am I to judge your dreams?"

Another one popped up right after.

"Hey sis, how about teaching me in person? I’ve got so much to learn... 😏"

Ah, the ever-eager students. She rolled her eyes again, smiling slightly.

"You can learn a lot on your own with a good imagination!"

"You should make a video stepping on Legos barefoot. I bet that would be amazing!!!"

What? Where did these people come from? She bit her lip, trying to hold back laughter as she typed her reply:

"I try to keep my videos at an entertainment level, not torture 🥰 But I appreciate the creativity!"

"It’s obvious you only do this because you love being a slut, I can see it in your expression, even with the mask 🔥 I’m already your number one fan."

Her smile faltered a little. A mix of praise and silent invasion that left her with a mild discomfort.

"Glad you enjoyed the content! Loving what I do is essential. But don’t get too carried away, alright?"

She gave one last glance at the rising view and like counts, but the comments started to lose their charm.

And that’s when the ping of a LinkedIn notification appeared at the top of the screen. An app she had basically forgotten she had installed since the last time she used it was to block an annoying old guy who was pestering her.

She reads the message:

Subject: Job Opportunity - Marketing Department.

Dear Kwon Eunbi,

We are pleased to inform you that your profile has caught the attention of our Marketing Department. After a brief review, we would like to invite you to participate in the selection process for the position of Marketing Analyst.

Responsibilities:

- Development of communication and digital marketing strategies;

- Analysis of KPIs and market trends;

- Collaboration with creative teams and planning advertising campaigns;

Requirements:

- Bachelor’s degree in Marketing or related fields;

- Previous experience managing digital campaigns;

Benefits:

- Competitive salary;

- Health and dental plan;

- Flexibility for hybrid work (remote);

We look forward to your response to schedule an interview.

She almost spits out her coffee.

What the hell is this?!

For a second, everything seemed to make sense, as if the universe was aligning the stars to give her a 'respectable' way out.

But only for a second.

In truth, it felt like the damn universe was conspiring against her.

The thought of waking up early every day, dressing like an executive, sitting in a cubicle, and smiling at people she probably couldn’t stand while doing mechanical tasks...

“No, no, no. No way,” she says aloud in the empty apartment as anxiety starts to tighten around her. And the strangest part is that she feels... bad. Bad for not wanting it. Bad for thinking she should want it.

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her mind. Maybe she should, right? Maybe being ‘normal’ would be easier. Maybe this whole video thing is just a phase. She looks at her coffee, as if it held the answers, but it only reflected her face back at her. She gulps the rest down, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

On the one hand, the college-era Eunbi would’ve jumped for joy at this message. A great job in her field, something ‘respectable’ career-wise; it doesn’t get much better than that.

Well, to be fair, it wasn’t exactly her big dream, but who, after all, dreams of spreadsheets and endless emails? But now, the idea of a normal life, with bosses, deadlines, and white collars, suffocates her more than any corset in a photoshoot. She’s thinking about how good it felt to leave all that behind, how much she loved the freedom she had now.

Sure, she graduated, but that’s not what she wants.

Not anymore.

But

On the other hand, something inside her hesitated to accept that she didn’t want this opportunity. It was like there was a younger version of her somewhere, screaming in panic: "You can’t be serious, right? Turning down a job like that to... keep being a virtual slut? You’re definitely not me..." And that little voice it's annoying because it hit on an uncomfortable truth. She had, at some point, carved out a different path. A temporary one. And now, this path it's leading her into the unknown, and this offer it's like a way back to her old life.

Monotonous, but dignified.

Difficult, but without exposure.

The safe choice or the leap into the abyss.

College-era Eunbi would say being stuck in an absurd dilemma like this was insane. But the Eunbi of today knows that 'conventional' career isn’t for her.

"This is my life now," she murmurs to herself. Creating adult content wasn’t just a choice; it was her choice. And not only is she going to keep doing it — she’s going all in!

Showing her face.

Now that would be a bold move.

No more masks.

The real Eunbi for the world.

She only has one small obstacle ahead: you. She needs to tell you. Explain how things were about to change. Show you that, even though she once said this was temporary, she’s rediscovered herself and finally found something she’s good at and willing to put her effort into.

She sighs and thinks about the conversation she’ll have. Knowing you, it’s going to be a tough one. You’ll definitely want to argue, try to convince her to take the more traditional route, thinking you’re protecting her. But it’s her life, her body, her decisions.

And if she’s going all in, she has to start by being honest.

When you get back, she’ll lay it all out. In the meantime, she stretches, still feeling the weight of the job offer, and tries to imagine the look on your face when she explains her plans.

—

You come back from the run looking like a drowned rat, which, considering the weather outside, is a reasonably accurate description. Your shoes make that annoying sponge sound as you walk across the room, and Eunbi is there, sitting on the couch, sipping coffee like she’s contemplating the meaning of life—or more realistically, deciding what her next big revelation of the morning is going to be.

“Good morning,” you mutter, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Good morning...” she replies. You look away as if you have something really important to do—like grab a towel.

The bathroom is a good place to rehearse difficult conversations, so you do that while you dry off, but the words still sound wrong in your head. It’s not like there’s a manual on how to confess to your best friend that you’re in love with her after you’ve filmed sex videos together.

It would be helpful if there was.

After grabbing a coffee and taking a sip, bracing yourself for the bomb you’re about to drop, you walk back to the living room. Eunbi is still there, but now you’re looking at each other like two actors who know the big scene is coming, but neither wants to be the first to step on stage.

“We need to talk,” you both say at the same time, which would be funny if it weren’t an absolutely terrible moment for comedy.

“You first,” you say, trying to sound generous.

“No… you, please,” she insists.

“Okay,” you sigh, sitting down on the couch, already feeling the weight of what’s about to happen. The words gather in your throat, like a rescue team about to jump out of a helicopter. “Look, what I’m about to say isn’t easy. In fact, it’s pretty hard. And it could... well, it could change our friendship. Maybe forever.”

Eunbi nods, encouraging you, though her expression clearly says, ‘I know this is big, but I’m going to pretend I’m calm.’

“I love you,” you finally say, the words coming out stronger than you expected. “And no, it’s not just a friend thing. I’m in love with you, and I’ve been feeling this for a while. Since... since we started filming together, actually. Every time we did a scene, something inside me got more confused, like the fake sex was revealing real feelings.”

Eunbi looks at you, surprised, but she doesn’t interrupt, so you keep going. “I thought it was temporary, something that would go away over time, but it only got stronger. And honestly, I can’t keep going like this, pretending nothing’s changed, because it has. I’m in love with you, for real. I want to be with you. Not just filming together, but... living with you, as a couple. I want us to be real.”

You take a deep breath, feeling some of the tension release from your chest, but vulnerability quickly takes its place. Eunbi looks at you, her eyes slightly teary, and then, before anything else, she says, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” you repeat, confused.

“For making you film all of this with me. I didn’t know what you were going through. I had no idea it was hurting you inside. If I’d known...” She pauses, trying to find the right words, but they seem as hard for her as they were for you. “I would’ve stopped.”

You shake your head, almost laughing, but not in a happy way. “No, you don’t have to apologize. What matters is now, and now is that... I’m being honest. I love you.”

She smiles, that smile you know so well, but now it seems different, softer, more... meaningful. “I like you too. A lot. And I’m not just saying that because you confessed. It’s weird, you know? I’ve been in relationships before, but it was never like this. We have this... bond, this connection I’ve never had with anyone. And I think, actually, I’ve always felt something for you, I just didn’t know exactly what it was. Now I do.”

She pauses, wiping away a solitary tear that escaped despite her efforts. “I want this too. I want to be with you. For real. I can’t imagine being with anyone else. We’ve spent so much time together, it... feels right. It feels like it’s how it’s supposed to be.”

You feel your heart leap in your chest. It’s surreal, all of this.

“So...?”

“So... I guess we’re together,” she says, still smiling, and this time you feel like the smile is for you, and only you.

“Finally,” you say, half-joking, but it’s an undeniable truth.

Still in the high of the magical moment, your heart beating faster than usual for all the right reasons, you decide now is the perfect moment to drop your second bomb.

“Oh, there’s one more thing,” you say, smiling like someone who just found a lost bill in their coat pocket. “Great news, actually. My friend messaged me. The company where he works loved your profile!! You might be getting a job offer soon!”

You wait for a scream of happiness, a tight hug, or even an improvised celebratory dance, but none of that happens. Eunbi doesn’t react the way you imagined. In fact, she seems to have frozen in place, as if someone hit the pause button on real life.

“So it was you?” she asks, her voice suddenly cold.

“Me?” you repeat, having no idea where this is coming from. “Me what?”

She sighs, like someone on the verge of losing their patience. “I got a job offer on LinkedIn.”

You blink, absorbing the information, and then smile widely. “Oh, so it worked! That’s great! I mean, now you have a chance to get out of this life... right?” But Eunbi’s expression, far from joyful, is one of... anger? Something between irritation and deep disappointment starts to form in her eyes.

“Why the hell did you do that?” she asks, her tone more like a police interrogation than a simple question.

You’re stunned, you feel like you’ve just been slapped in the face. “What? I was trying to help. I just wanted what’s best for you!”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she fires back, her tone growing harsher, like someone who’s been holding something in for a long time and finally let it out.

The ground starts to shift beneath your feet, the romantic and peaceful moment now turning into an unexpected storm. “Drop the pride, Eunbi,” you say, trying to maintain control of the situation. “This is your chance to get out of this life. You don’t have to keep doing... you know, what you’re doing now. And now that we’re on the same page, that you feel something for me too, we can be a real couple. Isn’t that what you want?”

She looks at you for a long, silent moment, as if she’s trying to decide if you’re really as clueless as you seem or if you’re just pretending not to understand what’s happening.

“This has nothing to do with pride,” she says, finally, with a calm that’s more frightening than any scream. “That job offer... it made me feel like crap! It made me rethink everything. Who I am, what I want... And you just... don’t get it.”

You really don’t get it.

Of all the scenarios that ran through your head, this one didn’t even come close to showing up. “I don’t understand. You wanted a stable job in your field, didn’t you?”

She shakes her head, exasperated. “I thought I did. I mean, that was the initial plan when I got fired from my last job. But... I can’t. I don’t want to... What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m not going to take that job.”

The silence that follows is so heavy you can almost hear the sound of raindrops hitting the window.

“So, what are you going to do?” you ask, your voice quieter than you expected.

Eunbi looks you in the eye, and suddenly, the full weight of what she’s about to say appears in her expression. “I’m going to keep doing what I do. I’m going to be an adult content creator, but this time, I’m going all in. No more anonymity. I’m going to show my face. That��s what I’ve decided. This is going to be my life now.”

It’s at that moment that your brain, which had been busy processing the joy of the love confession, just stops working.

This wasn’t in the script.

She was supposed to be happy about the job, you were supposed to be celebrating and planning a future as a normal couple.

Not this...

“You... you want to keep doing this?” you ask, incredulity leaking into every word.

She looks at you with a mix of sadness and determination. “Yes. I want to keep doing it. I want people to see me. I want to keep doing what I do. I love it. And if you’re going to be with me, you’re going to have to accept all of that too.”

The words echo in the room. You stand there, looking at her, trying to fit the pieces of this emotional puzzle that, until seconds ago, was a beautiful, simple picture of a future together. Now, it feels more like one of those abstract paintings people pretend to understand.

She takes a deep breath, and you can tell that the emotion is about to overflow. "Look... I really love you. Truly. And if you want, I'll be the happiest woman in the world by your side. But—" she pauses, the word hanging in the air like a sword about to fall, "if you want to be with me, you’re going to have to accept this Eunbi. The Eunbi you see now, who does what she does. And the weight that comes with it."

Silence. You hear your heart pounding in your chest, so loud it's a wonder Eunbi can't hear it too. The world feels like it’s moving in slow motion, the time between blinks stretching out as if the master of time himself is waiting to see what you’ll say. But what can you say? You’re still processing everything. The confession, the proposal, the fact that she wants to continue in this career—and wants you to be a part of it.

"You... you want to... keep going?" The question comes out hesitantly. You can hardly believe you're asking it. The shock is a physical thing, sitting between you like a third person in the room.

Eunbi, her eyes already shining with tears she’s trying so hard to hold back, nods. "Yes. I want to keep going. I want people to see me. I want to keep doing what I do. I love it. And if you’re going to be with me, you’ll have to accept all of that too."

The tears finally fall, one after the other, as if gravity had won the battle she was trying to fight. You watch, unsure if what you’re feeling is fear, sadness, or some strange sense of relief.

Maybe all of it at once.

She continues, her voice now shaky but still steady. “You can think it over, if you want. This is serious. Our parents are going to find out sooner or later. You know the kind of exposure we’ll face... that I’ll face. And if you’re with me, we’ll be facing that together.”

Eunbi looks directly at you, the intensity in her eyes almost painful. “You warned me about this before. You’ve always worried about me. But if you stay with me now, there’s no going back. People we know might find out, they might see. Are you really willing to risk everything because of me?”

Another pause. This time, it’s not dramatic. It’s just a simple pause, where your mind, suddenly overwhelmed by all these emotions, finds a small space of clarity.

And in that space, the decision that seemed so complicated just moments ago suddenly makes sense.

“Yes,” you say, the word leaving your mouth with a calmness that surprises even you. Eunbi’s eyes widen, as if she isn’t sure she heard you right.

“I accept,” you continue, firmly. "I accept you as you are. If this is what you want to do with your life, then that’s fine by me. I’ll be by your side, no matter what."

She stands there, looking at you like you're some kind of alien that just landed on Earth. And then the tears she was holding back finally fall. But this time, they aren’t tears of sadness or anger. They’re something completely different. Relief, maybe. Or raw happiness, the kind you rarely see.

“Are you sure?” she asks, between sobs. "I... I mean, this won’t be easy! You can think about it more. You can really consider what you’re accepting, what it’s going to mean for you, for us."

You give her that half-smile, the one you know always made her feel safe. "Eunbi," you say, calmly, "I’ve already thought about it. I accept the risk, the exposure. I accept you... As long as I’m with you, it’s all okay."

And with that, she falls apart. Not in a sad or uncontrolled way, but in a beautiful, genuine way. She starts crying, but they’re tears of gratitude, of love, of everything she’s held inside for so long.

You step closer and wrap your arms around her, as if trying to protect her from the whole world. She cries into your chest, her words lost between sobs. You kiss the top of her head, taking in the familiar scent of the shampoo she always uses.

"I love you so much," she says through her tears, her voice muffled against you.

"I love you too," you reply, with a sincerity that fills her up from the inside. “We’re in this together.”

And then, there, in the midst of tears, hugs, and confessions, the world seems to align again. The mess it was before starts to make sense.

Okay, maybe it’s not a fairy tale, but who needs a fairy tale ending when you can have something this real, this alive, this raw, this imperfect and yet, somehow, so absolutely perfect?

And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

With her.

—

[Rubydden] Three minutes ago

This month, we’re going to skyrocket the quality of our content!!

And to kick things off: FACE REVEAL!!🔥🥳

#kpop smut #kpop male reader #kwon eunbi #eunbi izone #kpop gg smut #kpop m!reader #kpop male oc #eunbi m!reader #m!reader #male reader #eunbi smut #eunbi x male reader #izone smut #izone eunbi #kpop gg #smut oneshot #gg smut

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slightly-knot-insane · 2 months ago

Note

waaahh omg hi!!!! could I maybe get an eldritch sea monster that just loves his little diver he found? (he totally didn’t kidnap you from the rear of your team…) mayyybbee with some breeding/eggpreg? frothing at the mouth

Underwater sexy time finally finished! Thank you for the request! It's a bit longer since I wanted to add this because you liked it ^^

[ m!sea monster x ftm!reader ]

First Breath of Water

It was meant to be just a simple skinny-dip with your friends. Then you saw a beautiful bluish purple light underwater. It was so pretty you just had to see what it was! Foolishly, you walked into the sea, deeper and deeper, until the water reached your shoulders and then - something grabbed your ankle and pulled you under.

And now you're here, in this cave, surrounded by wet stone, and a water pool at your feet... With a large monster peeking from it. It has something resembling a face with mouth and multiple set of eyes. It doesn't speak to you, but it brought you a strange fish to eat, and fresh water to drink. The raw meal is rather nourishing, and you are not hurt, so you relax a little bit.

While you eat, the creature completely exits the pool and slides next to you. Ethereal bioluminescence decorates its translucent skin. Frills, tentacles and spines grow out of its body. It is both scary and fascinating. It doesn't do anything else aside from watching you, and any attempts to speak to it are met with silence and curious tilts of its slightly humanoid head. It doesn't seem to like the air very much. It starts heaving after barely fifteen minutes next to you and then quickly enters the water for, what you assume, a dose of oxygen.

After a few minutes alone, the creature exits the pool and, this time, gets even closer to you. It touches you and is surprisingly gentle. The being also insists on you touching it - it pulls your hand toward its massive body. You obey and glide your palm over its smooth and slick skin. Your nerves barely register touch - that's how polished and silky the creature is.

With a tremble of its tentacles, it pushes you on the ground, its eyes fixated on yours. The monster is heavy and you can't move, so you just squeal in panic. It slides and moves upward, arching over your entire body. It holds you by your shoulders firmly against the rocky floor. You are presented with two penises, swollen and pulsating in bioluminescent purple light.

"Whoa, slow—" but your words are cut short. One of the penises dives into your mouth, and the other one eagerly rubs against your chest and neck. It is oozing some strange liquid and soon you're covered with lubricant sort of substance. Penises are very flexible and mobile, and the one in your mouth is exploring your teeth and tongue, rubbing against your soft tissue. For some reason, you are not scared but excited. The phallus tastes peculiar but not unpleasant. The monster above you moans in a strange, guttural way and the organic lights flicker into pink shade. It moves its lower body, slowly rocking, and penises thrust and rub harder until, with a strong jolt, they spurt cold and very thick liquid onto your chest and into your mouth.

Wheezing, the monster quickly retreats into the water, leaving you soiled and sticky. You cough and yell at the creature for not preparing you, worried about the thing that you just ate. After just a few minutes, the monster is on top of you again, wet and recovered, pushing you down and shoving the upper penis into your mouth. It fucks your mouth until it climaxes again and you swallow its seed.

This is repeated many times, until your stomach is completely full of sperm and swollen. Exhausted, you fall asleep as soon as you are given a break.

You are woken up by an unpleasant feeling. You can't... breathe? It hurts when you inhale as if your lungs shrunk. You try to cough and take deep breaths, but that causes you even more pain.

"Heee... heeee... lp..." Your words are more like hisses, barely audible. You fall on your knees, tears falling down your cheeks and you feel some strange growth on your jaw. Are those... gills? Long tentacles glide around your waist and swiftly pull you underwater.

Once you're inside water, you gasp - really gasp - because you can breathe! No more pressure and sharp pain. You can breathe underwater!

The monster is in front of you. He (how do you know it's a he?) moves with grace, circling you, swimming and letting out happy clicking noises. It looks so much bigger, intimidating, but also incredibly beautiful in his element. The tentacles surround you, pull you toward him, and explore every part of your body: your hair, neck, armpits, legs, scars and gills. You are mesmerized, getting incredibly aroused by this creatures touches and wonderful lights of his skin. They slowly change from gentle blue to royal purple.

The penises are out again, but the lower one that used to be smaller is now quite longer and there is white orb at the base of it. The creature grabs you, pulls you up and the top penis prods your hole. Luckily, the creature doesn't force it. He finds your t-dick and uses one of his frilled tentacles to rub it. The sensation is incredible and you can't help it but respond. With every limb he has, he locates your erogenous zones and fondles them while carefully observing your emotions.

When you're on the edge of climax, he slowly pushes the top penis into your hole. Surrounded by water, it slides easily and deeply, and takes only few thrusts to shatter you.

While still pulsating from your orgasm, the creature takes out his cock and presents his thick and a lot longer lower one. The light changes to dark pink and he shoves his massive phallus inside you. You arch your back, pushing him away from overstimulation, but he doesn't budge. His light becomes pulsating red and you can see glowing orbs the size of your fist moving inside his shaft into your body. As they slide under your t-dick, you shake from intense pleasure and it takes only three of them to push you over the edge again. The tentacles hold you firmly in place while the monster places his eggs inside you. Soon your belly swells. It's an incredible feeling, stretched by warm objects that emit waves of pleasure through your tissue every time they shift.

So many eggs and so many orgasms after, you wake up in monsters embrace, wrapped around by his tentacles. He happily clicks as a greeting and one of his arms touches your belly. It is huge, skin stretched like a balloon and glowing in soft red light. With a joyous smile, you touch it and happily click, click, click yourself.

#tw dubcon #tw nsft #x ftm reader #monster smut #monster #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster x human #monster x you #monster x reader #monster x trans!reader #tentacle kink #ovi kink #smut #slightlyknotinsane #ski.doc

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size0forhollywood · 2 months ago

Text

Hide and Seek

Tw: nsfw, or4l, blood, submissive, scratching, pet names, dominating, punishment, little plot, mostly smut.

Synopsis: Sylus has a bad day at work and you thought it would be a good idea to hide from him. That is until he finds you.

A/N: this is my first fanfic. A lot of this content actually came from how my chat with AI Sylus went 🤭.

To my best friend: here’s to being Delulu and horny sluts!

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

It had been three days. Three days since your undercover mission with Sylus. A mission that went exactly according to plan and had Sylus ravaging you in the car unable to wait to get inside his house. Every waking moment you thought about how he held you, kissed you, how his tongue absolutely devoured you. The way you two produced so much heat that all the windows fogged up, giving you all the privacy you needed from the outside world.

The desires burning through you and you just can’t wait anymore. You decide to go back to Sylus’ house and surprise him. It was almost time for Sylus to get back from his usual “work meetings”.

Sylus couldn’t focus at all. Being away from you for even a second felt like an eternity and he’s had to endure three whole days! All his mind could think of was when he would see you again. What he would do when he saw you again. Frustration welled up inside him and his hands formed fists.

The thugs around him seemed insignificant. Sylus threw Luke and Kieran a telling glance which they understood immediately. The thugs started to get louder yelling at each other.

“How boring.” Sylus murmured in his low deep voice. He raised his hand as black red mist started enveloping the room and all the men inside.

“Next time don’t waste my time with trivial matters.” Sylus walked out listening to the men screaming. A sound which usually made him satisfied but not today. No, a desperate longing and burning hot desire clouded his mind and judgement. He was angry.

The drive home was just as despicable. Long and boring. That was until he noticed something odd about his house. He looked at his bedroom window and saw the silhouette of a woman. Your silhouette.

Sylus growled hungrily and was almost running to get inside.

You got into his house very easily. After all he gave you the spare key. You pranced up the stairs making your way to his bedroom. Excitement filling your core. It had been too long. You throw yourself down on his bed letting the comforter swallow your body.

Maybe you should wait for him naked under the sheets? You shake your head. Feeling extra playful, maybe you should hide under the bed.

You walk by the window to peak outside. Heart thumping as you see Sylus’ car parked out front. Suddenly you hear the sounds of heavy footsteps ascending the stairs.

Without thinking too much further you dive under the bed. Steadying your breath trying to be as quiet as possible.

You hear the bedroom door click as it opens. Sylus walks into the room. Your heart is beating in your ears. You peak through the gaps and see his polished boots stepping around the room.

“I know you’re here kitten.” His low sultry voice fills the air.

“Come out and stop hiding.”

You bring your hand to your mouth clasping it hard, desperate to hide the sound of your breathing.

You see him walk around both sides of the bed.

“Kitten.” He taunts. “I know you’re somewhere.” His voice slowly turning into a growl.

“I will find you.” His voice sounds threatening but you love the sound and tone of it.

You shuffle as quietly as you can so that you’re in the middle and away from the sides. Your body almost trembling with arousal and excitement.

For a moment everything is silent. Sylus wasn’t moving, wasn’t speaking. Your heart beat was thumping so loud.

Sylus kneels down and peeks under the gaps of the bed, an evil smirk twisting on his lips.

“Found you.”

You yelp as you’ve been spotted and try to crawl away from him but Sylus is too fast.

He quickly grabs you by your ankles and pulls you out from under the bed. He gets on top of you pinning you beneath him. Both of your arms pinned by your sides.

“You little devil…” Sylus growls. His hot red eyes burning into yours.

You try to catch your breath.

“Are you gonna punish me Sy?” You ask smiling at him.

Sylus smirks, a hot desire burning through him. He leans down and whispers into your ear. “Oh kitten… you bet I’m going to punish you.. in so many different ways.”

You feel an ache between your legs at his words.

“Really?” You wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze. “Go on then.”

Sylus raises an eye brow at you. His resolve not faltering one bit despite enjoying the feeling of your legs around him. Feeling the heat between your legs. He wants nothing more than to give you what you want. But he doesn’t.

You can feel his erection staring to grow.

“Is this what you want kitten? You want me to punish you? To take control and do with you as I please?” He starts grinding his hardness against you.

“Ah! Mmm” the friction feels so good you can’t help but moan.

The sound of your pleasure causes Sylus to groan deeply. He can’t help it.

“You like this sweetie?” He starts grinding a bit faster. “You like it when I take everything I want from you?” His deep voice getting breathy as his mind starts to cloud from his arousal and his need to be dominant. “Even if that means punishing you - uh.” He moans and then tightens his grip on your wrists “-for misbehaving.”

You bite your lip from the overwhelming sensations of his voice and erection rubbing against your clothed pussy.

“Give me your worst Sy.” You breathe out challenging him.

Sylus groans and leans back down and starts nibbling on your neck. His hot breath causing goosebumps on your skin.

“Oh kitten. Be careful what you ask for.. I’ll punish you like you want me to.” He bites down on your neck hard causing you to jump and writhe underneath him. “Trust me you.. you won’t be able to handle it.”

He starts kissing up your neck, drinking in the sight of you. Loving the way you squirm underneath him. Trying to break free from his strong grasp.

“I’m gonna make you regret your words kitten.” He threatens. “I’m gonna punish you so…hard.”

Sylus stops grinding against you, smirking as you whimper at the loss of friction.

“Please Sy.” You plead to him. Your body aching for him.

Sylus chuckles. “Please what? Sweetie… beg for what you want from me.” Sylus’ voice is full of demand.

You struggle once again trying to get your arms free of his hold

“Ah ah.” Sylus grips on you only tightens. You just know you’re gonna have bruises. “Naughty little kitten.”

Sylus looks you in the eye, tears are starting to well up in yours. Desperation running through your core. “Please touch me Sy.” You finally beg.

Sylus smirks “touch you sweetie? Where?”

You bite your lip and start to whisper as Sylus keeps delaying.

“You know where I want you.” You huff. You start rolling your hips, trying to feel what Sylus is denying you.

Sylus’ resolve almost falters as he feels how wet you are through your pants. He groans deeply. Letting you have your five seconds of fun… or was it torture?

“You can do this all you want. It’ll only tease you. Never satisfy you.”

You bite your lip and look away from Sylus, was this the punishment? Doing nothing? Tears pricking your eyes again.

Sylus is amused, watching you bite your lip. It makes him feel even more in control.

“Keep chewing on that lip sweetie… I love it.” He attacks your neck again, listening to you whimper and moan.

You’re rocking your hips faster and harder. Your legs tighten around Sylus. His breath starts to quicken and he lets out a low deep groan.

“Does that feel good Kitten?” He sucks at the soft skin of your neck. “Not good enough.” His tone sharp getting more commanding.

“Keep grinding.”

You do as he says. Using all your strength to grind your pussy against his hardened length. Till the point that it hurts because of your clothes.

“Mmm such a good girl…. Obey me.”

Your head rolls back. “Sy! Please!” You love the way he calls you a good girl. Awakening something inside you.

“You like being my good little girl?” Sylus’ grip on you tightens some more.

“Yes Sy! I’m your good little girl.” You moan.

Sylus’ resolve shatters.

“Come here kitten, come here. I can’t wait anymore.” He whispers as he lets your arms go. He sits back and pulls you up with him. Forcing you to straddle him.

His lips capture yours in a hot messy kiss. Tongue and teeth colliding. His hands slide under your shirt. Desperate to feel your hot soft skin.

“Mmm Sy~” your moans sound like music to his ears. His touch on your bare skin sends electric pulses through you.

You wrap your arms around him clinging desperately to his body.

“Lift your arms up.” He demands. You do it straight away. He pulls your shirt up and over. Tossing it to the side.

Mesmerised at the sight of your breasts. Like lightening he leans down and starts kissing and nibbling at your chest.

“You’re so beautiful kitten….so perfect.”

“Ah Sy…that feels so good~”

Sylus runs his hands all over your body. Feeling every inch of exposed skin.

Your hands start exploring, trying to undo the buttons of his shirt. “I wanna feel you too Sy.”

Sylus feels how needy and desperate you are. “Patience kitten.” He lets go of you and starts to unbutton his shirt for you. You bite your lip as you watch him take off his shirt, slowly.

He throws his shirt across the room. You marvel how sexy he is. Broad shoulders, you fingers trace along his collarbone and down his sensitive chest.

“Ah.” Sylus loves it when you touch his chest. He looks in your eyes, his red orbs gleaming with lust.

“I want you kitten. I want you so badly.” Sylus lays you back down on the floor. Careful not to hurt you. He grabs both wrists in one hand and pins them above your head. His mouth never leaving yours.

Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, squeezing tightly. Your hips start rocking to feel that much needed friction again. Sylus pulls away.

“Mmm not yet kitten.”

“Sy please!” You’re begging now. You can’t take much more of this teasing.

“Ooh my sweet little kitten…not until I get what I want.” Sylus starts leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. Biting and licking as he goes.

When he gets to your breasts, he groans at how perfect and soft they are. His tongue swirls around your nipple, sucking and biting.

“Ah!” You bite your lip, frustrated that he has you pinned down.

Sylus drags his tongue down your stomach. Tasting your sweet salty skin. He gets to the waistband of your pants, bites and tugs at them.

He looks back up at you. “I’m gonna release you now kitten but you’re not allowed to move. Okay?”

You nod.

“Speak kitten.” Sylus says in a commanding tone.

“I, I won’t move Sy! I’ll be a good girl and stay still.”

“Mmm yes you will.” Sylus lets go of your wrists and he makes quick work at unbuttoning your pants.

He pulls them down your thighs, your legs until they’re all the way off. Your panties still in place.

“You’re so wet for me sweetie.” He traces a finger over the top of your drenched panties. “Mmm lucky for you daddy’s thirsty.”

Before you have time to respond, Sylus’ mouth is on your clothed pussy. Nibbling and sucking at all the moisture of your arousal.

“Ah-mmnh, Sy!” You’re trying so hard not to move.

“Fuck I love hearing you moan sweetie.” Too overcome with lust Sylus gets frustrated and rips your panties off your body. He swipes his tongue in between your dripping folds.

“You taste so fucking good.” Sylus buries his face in your pussy. Eating you like he’s a man starved.

You throw your head back. “Oh god Sylus -mmmnnhh” every lick and movement sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire being.

“Scream for me baby.” Sylus’ mouth now moves to your clit. He works two fingers into your pussy. Pumping in and out.

“Mmnng! Oh god! Sy!”

Spurred on by your moans he quickens his pace. His fingers slipping in and out easily with how wet you are.

“Look at you being a good girl. Staying still for me.” Sylus pulls back and you whimper at the loss.

He caresses your cheek with his fingers that were just inside you. “It’s okay sweetie.” You capture Sylus’ fingers in your mouth, licking, sucking and tasting yourself.

“Fuck, you’re my dirty little slut aren’t you?” His eyes darken as he watches you taste yourself.

Your eyes start to water as Sylus starts fingering your mouth. “Mmm my pretty little slut. Such a good girl.”

Your saliva is now dripping down his hand. Sylus uses his other hand and grabs your chin forcing you to stop. He slowly pulls his fingers out your mouth. He runs his fingers across your lips coating them in your saliva and arousal.

“You can move now kitten.” Your arms immediately run through Sylus’ hair you pull him in for hot, wet kiss.

Yours hands move down Sylus’ neck and back, tracing over all his muscles. Feeling them twitch under your touch.

“Mmm yes kitten, touch me.”

Sylus starts to unbutton his pants. He doesn’t pull them all the way though. Just enough to set his large cock free. You whimper at the sight. Sylus smirks.

“So naughty.” Sylus grabs your hips and lines himself up to your entrance. “Hold on tight sweetie.” He thrusts hard into you, you throw your head back at the pain but you love it. Your nails digging into Sylus’ shoulders.

“Mmmm good kitten. Scratch me.”

Sylus keeps thrusting hard and fast into you. Your body moving up the floor with every thrust.

“Mm nng!” You’re an absolute mess under him. Your fingers move down Sylus back breaking the skin as you go.

“Fuck… harder sweetie.” Sylus bites down on your neck. You both welcome the pain. Wet slapping noises and both your moans fill the air and its music to your ears. You dig your nails in deeper dragging them back up Sylus’ back and over his shoulders to his chest.

Sylus screws his eyes shut at the pain but it further pushes him to drive harder into you.

“That’s it sweetie. Mark me. Claim me as yours” his grip on your hips tighten as he tilts them upwards allowing him to thrust deeper into you.

“Ah fuck Sylus!” The pain and pleasure mix. You claw at Sylus’ neck and can feel a wetness on your fingers. Blood starts to drip down.

Sylus growls and moans at the intense burning pleasure. “That’s it sweetie.” Beads of sweat start to form on both your foreheads.

As if you’re in a trance you pull your hand back looking at the thick red coating your finger tips. Your intrusive thoughts win and you stick your fingers in your mouth, tasting his blood. Tasting all of him.

Sylus’ eyes widen a new hunger awakening within him as he watches you lick his blood off your fingers. His body trembles slightly with excitement.

“Sy.. I want you to taste me too.” You pant. Your fingers are almost licked clean and your bring you hand back to his shoulders, gripping them hard again.

“Fuck..” Sylus groans. “Mm you’d really let me taste you..?”

You nod. “Yes Sy!”

“Fuccckk” Sylus’ teeth sink into your neck. As soon as the metallic taste hits his tongue his eyes roll back, intoxicated. He licks and sucks all the blood seeping out.

“Nmm Sylus!”

The pleasure builds and builds and you can feel yourself reaching your end. Sylus can feel it too as your hot walls tighten around his hard veiny length.

Your nails digging into sylus’ shoulders again. Gripping hard.

“Sy..! I’m gonna cum!” Sylus fucks you harder than ever before, hitting that sensitive spot inside that he knows will be your undoing.

And he was right. “Fuckkk Sy!” You cum hard and fast on Sylus’ cock so much so he can feel it dripping out and onto his balls.

“That’s it baby.” He coos into your neck as you ride through your orgasm.

You’re left a panting mess underneath him, your face is flushed and your eyes watery. Sylus loves the view.

“Come here sweetie, stand up.” Sylus gets up off the floor and pulls you with him. You whimper at the loss of his cock. Your legs are shaking from the intense orgasm you just had. Sylus gently runs a finger over the bite mark on your neck.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers. You blush as you take in the scratches you left across his chest, neck and shoulders. He looks like he was attacked by a wild animal.

You step closer to Sylus and start kissing his neck. Licking over the scratches. Sylus groans.

“Fuck sweetie, you’re such a good girl.”

“Yes I am Sy.” You drop to your knees and look up at Sylus. “I’m your good little kitten.”

Fuck, Sylus could cum right then and there at the sight of you on your knees. Calling yourself his little kitten.

“You look so good on your knees..”

You run your hands up Sylus’ thighs and grip his pants. Pulling them down his legs to expose his muscular thighs.

Sylus runs a hand through your hair and grips it between his fingers. He doesn’t pull though.

“So fucking beautiful.” He whispers.

You lean in placing gentle kisses on his thighs. Your hands move to his ass and grip him tightly. “Mm yes sweetie.”

You know he’s too big for your mouth but you sure love to try and Sylus loves it when you do. You lap up the precum that’s pooled on the head of his cock and lick up and down his length.

His grip in your hair tightens and a moan escapes his lips. You take him into your mouth and start bobbing your head.

Sylus’ head falls back as he moans at how wet and warm your mouth feels. “Mmmm….oh god sweetie.”

You move faster, letting your jaw slack to try and fit him in. He can’t help but pull you closer. You gag as he hits the back of your throat. Tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

With his other hand he reaches down and gently cups your cheek, his thumb wipes away the moisture from your eyes. “You’re doing so well darling.” He whispers.

Sylus’ tender act motivates you and you keep going, taking as much as you can deep in your mouth. You feel his legs shaking as he approaches his end.

“I’m almost there, sweetie..” Sylus moans. His breath becoming ragged. You moan around his cock and that was his tipping point.

Sylus groans deeply as he feels himself coming in your mouth.

You can’t help but gag again as you feel his hot seed hitting the back of your throat. Tears you’d been fighting back finally spill down your cheek. You swallow as much as you can but some of Sylus’ cum spills out the side of your mouth, mixed with your drool. Sylus’ spent cock falls from your sore mouth.

He looks down at your tear streaked face. “Come here sweetie.” He lifts you up into his arms and carries you over to the bed. As he lies you down on the mattress he wipes the tears off your cheeks.

“You did so good for me sweetie.” You lean into his touch. Hi lies on his side next to you, his fingers tracing down your body. “So exquisite.” He whispers.

Your face flushes as you watch Sylus admire your form. You run a finger over a large scratch on Sylus’ chest.

“Sy, why don’t you heal yourself?”

Sylus chuckles. “I want to look at these marks and remember this night for a long time sweetie.”

You can’t help but blush and smile at Sylus’ words. Sylus squeezes and pinches your hip. He can feel another erection forming. He pulls you close to him in a tight hug.

You feel the hardened length against your thigh and gasp.

“You really are insatiable you know that?”

Sylus kisses your forehead.

“Only for you sweetie. Only for you.”

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

#love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x you #sylus smut #sylus

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astridthevalkyrie · 8 months ago

Text

love & deepspace | watching the solar eclipse with you

a/n: l&ds boys leave me alone l&ds boys are you listening please leave me alone

You're fiddling with your watch as you stare straight ahead, squinting to see if the short young lady across the street is really watching you through her window or whether or not it's a trick of the light. It certainly wasn't a trick of the light last week. You think it might be because you changed your curtains recently, and it just draws her eyes a little more naturally. You'd be more upset if you didn't spend so much time looking at her window wondering if she was looking at your window.

The wind teases your hair as you lean over the side of the balcony. Down below, the gleam from the quickly disappearing sun shines off your motorcycle, showing off the fresh polish you'd rubbed it down with earlier this morning.

"Admiring your baby?"

"I'm always admiring my baby," you sigh happily, letting out a small excited gasp when Xavier wraps his arms around you and offers you a bag of chips. "You actually found them!"

He hums lowly while you open the bag and dive in. Bless him for being just as much of a snacker as you. Not that the solar eclipse is an event you feel the need to celebrate, not with something like a party at least, but it still feels special. And it feels especially special because you and your boyfriend both made sure to request time off to just enjoy the moment together. For him to hunt down a favorite childhood snack for you too, well...this is a lot more than just a date now. This is something important, you can feel it.

And yet, Xavier treats the entire situation like it's any other day. He burrows his face into your neck, avoiding the sun entirely. The glow on his skin is even more beautiful than the one on your motorcycle.

"Xavier," you giggle, swatting at his hands while his fingers clutch your sweater all the more tightly. "Xavier, this is a once-in-a-lifetime event!"

"So enjoy it," he utters softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "My once-in-a-lifetime event is right here."

"Doctor," you tease quietly, "I think I'll just sneak a small glance—"

Immediately, a warm hand covers your eyes, and you bite back a laugh. Zayne, for how clever he is, takes absolutely no chances with you. One might find it insulting, that he thinks you seriously would simply gaze up at the sun and let it burn your retinas, but you begrudgingly admit that you've perhaps made some impulsive decisions in the past.

With a brief smile, you take his hand in yours, and slide it down to your lips, kissing his palm. Hazel eyes meet yours and soften fondly.

"You only have the one lunch break," he murmurs, "and there is only one eclipse. Surely there were better places to see it aside from my car."

Of course there were. Even the roof of the UNICORNS building would have an incredible view. But Zayne had given you the privilege of sitting in the drivers' seat for once, his AC is always set to the perfect temperature, and most importantly...

Zayne is there. And he watches you like you're the most interesting thing about the world right now—yesterday, today, and always. He took his car out of its special parking spot just to sit in the corner of the street with the best view, all because you asked once, and you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Instead of explaining all these reasons, you merely lean over the driver's seat, tug the collar of his short close, and plant a short kiss on his lips. He responds in kind, hand immediately rising to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss.

When he pulls back after a minute, lips swollen a little, he says breathlessly, "We'll miss actually seeing the eclipse at this rate."

"Well, you were right," you whisper, fisting his collar in your hands, "I only have the one lunch break, and I can't waste it."

His gaze becomes something indescribable, and the protective eyewear he's been holding in his hands slips onto the floor of the car as he cups your cheeks.

This time, Zayne kisses you.

For once, you were the dramatic one, insisting on a full outing, which you and Rafayel went back and forth on, until the two of you compromise by going out into his backyard. Outside, you draped a lovely little picnic blanket on the grass.

Rather dramatically, he's draped himself over you, head in your lap like he's making a huge sacrifice.

"Raf, at least look once."

"No," he whines quietly, so soft you want to coo, burying his face into your stomach, "fishies like me can't stare directly into the sun."

You poke his cheek. "Newsflash, H2O-Just-Add-Water, humans can't do that either. That's what the glasses are for."

Rafayel kisses your stomach, looking perfectly content. It's a wonder he even came out with you to see the eclipse at all, considering he's clearly not planning to actually experience it. With a sigh, you curl a few fingers into his hair, absentmindedly scratching the top of his head while you sneak another glance at the little orange light peeking back at you.

He grumbles. "Be careful. I don't trust your human technology."

"Yeah, yeah." With a smile, you look back down at him. "Are you sure you don't wanna see? It's really beautiful!"

"Oh, really?" he muses, muffled against your clothes. "Alright, I'll be the judge of that."

Then, without warning, he turns his head and gazes up.

Immediately, your hand flies up to shield his eyes. Your fingers brush up against your forehead, wisps of hair tickling your thumb as you try in a mild panic to protect him. While your first thought is to scold him for risking his eyesight like that, you note just a second later that Rafayel isn't trying to look at the eclipse. His gaze is trained on you, as though he can see more than the eclipse—the entire universe—in your eyes.

Faintly, you think that the pink of his pupils is prettier than any shade the sun could ever hope to be.

"Hm," he mumbles, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear, "yeah, you're right. Beautiful."

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ivystoryweaver · 11 days ago

Text

Just for an Hour - Poe Dameron

Poe Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Happy Poevember!

Summary: You lure your best friend to a picnic by a lake, trying to get his mind off of his responsibilities...only to find his mind is fixed on you.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Content: romance, sex is implied and described briefly. More erotic than explicit. Best friends to lovers, slow and soft, in the water, not beta’d

•¨•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ⁭ﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨*•

"Isn't it perfect?" You nudged your best friend's shoulder as the two of you finished up the picnic you had prepared to surprise him.

Polishing off the last of his beverage, Poe stared out over the serene lake, releasing a cleansing sigh as the water lapped against the tall grass along the shore. The sun, rich gold and majestic purple neared the horizon, sending shimmering beams of light across the water’s surface.

“We should go swimming."

The sound of your voice brought the Resistance commander back to reality, and you regretted having opened your mouth once you heard his reply.

"I have to get back."

"Come on, Poe, it’s quiet out there. This is supposed to be your day off.”

“We don’t get days off.”

“The First Order will still be as evil and dreadful right now as they will an hour from now.” Standing, you kicked off your boots, reaching to unzip your flight suit.

This got Poe’s attention.

Sure, you’d changed clothes in front of him dozens of times. You’d even shared a bed. For sleeping.

But he was wound pretty tightly just ahead of an important mission and it had been a long time since he’d blown off steam in particular ways.

Maybe a swim wasn’t such a bad idea. Could be fun.

“Okay. Ten minutes,” he agreed, granting you a lopsided grin as he rid himself of his own boots and flight suit. This left the two of you in white tank tops and shorts, but as you laughed delightedly and sprinted toward the water, he shed his top as well.

You squealed in excitement and surprise at the surprisingly warm water, which felt absolutely divine against your skin.

“Cold?” Poe asked you before he stepped one toe in.

“No, it feels amazing,” you gushed, twirling around as Poe waded in a few steps before diving right in.

He disappeared for several long moments, prompting you to look around for him. It would be just like him to mess with you, but he was gone for so long that you finally called his name.

Suddenly he tugged on your ankle underwater and you shrieked before laughing. “I’m gonna kick your ass, Dameron!”

Poe popped up behind you, grinning wickedly as he shook wet curls out of his face. Sunlight kissed his dark eyes, making them shine golden as they raked over your body.

You lunged for him, but he turned away to dodge your attack, so you ended up hanging onto his back, with your arms around his neck. Your thighs locked around his torso and you squeezed while attempting to pull him under and dunk him.

“Nice try, sweetheart,” he taunted, even as you both tumbled back into the water.

You came up sputtering, with Poe chuckling, amused that your revenge had backfired. “Don’t choke.”

You splashed water right in his smug face, which, of course, started a splashing war. The two of you laughed like kids, splashing and dodging and diving until you were breathless and exhausted, and, for once, thinking about something that wasn’t the First Order looming over the galaxy.

Finally calling a truce, you bobbed in the water, the sun almost gone from the sky and twilight hanging magically around you.

“I needed that,” Poe admitted, tongue swiping over his lips as he noticed the way your white tank top clung to your wet skin.

“You probably need a lot more than that,” you cryptically returned, mesmerized by the water droplets dancing on his long lashes.

“Yeah, like what?”

“I don’t know,” you answered seriously. “I haven’t seen you smile like that…” Chewing on your lip, you tried to come up with an answer. “I can’t remember the last time I heard you laugh.”

“Well, that’s why I have you,” he shrugged, swimming toward you until he was close enough to hold you. But he didn’t.

“That’s why I made you come with me today,” you agreed. “What can I say? I live to see Poe Dameron smile once in a while.”

“We both know that’s not true or you wouldn’t torture me so often,” he teased, splashing you again.

“Please don’t start that again or I might actually drown,” you dramatically pouted, sinking below the water’s surface to emphasize your point, thinking, in the back of your mind, that it might make Poe laugh again, or at least smile.

But he caught you before you went under, his forearm flexing against the curve of your back as he pulled you flush against his chest. “I would never let that happen. You know that.”

“Save me, Commander Dameron,” you teased in a sing-song voice, but your laughter trailed off as his gaze dropped to your mouth. You swallowed hard, attempting to ignore how your body fit up against his like you were two adjoining puzzle pieces.

Your chest heaved at the sudden shift in mood. Spreading your palms against his chest, you braced yourself, feeling as if either of you let go, that you would indeed, drop straight to the lake’s bottom.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, folding you against him for a body engulfing hug. The two of you had shared countless hugs - after successful missions, sometimes playfully, during a fun night out, and ever so rarely, when he would come to you exhausted and broken. Those were the nights he fell asleep in your bed, but it had never gone further than his arms clinging to your waist, seeking comfort.

But the way he pressed your body into his now felt altogether different.

He was giving you something here - you weren’t sure what exactly - but you wrapped your arms around his neck and twisted your fingers into his wet curls, pulling yourself against him harder and whispering his name.

You held one another, suspended in twilight, for a few etherial moments, but it didn’t calm either of you.

Instead, it ignited something. Perhaps it was something new, or something dormant. Or perhaps it was there simmering below the surface, but one turn of his head brought those heated breaths to your cheek. Plush lips grazed the corner of your mouth - the sensation sending you right back to the memory of that half-drunken kiss near the end of last Life Day.

One moment longer passed, the two of you the precipice of something new. Then he covered your lips with his own, sharing your breath for one final moment before licking hotly into your mouth with unrestrained fervor.

Every part of him was touching every part of you somehow, with his thick, muscular thigh wedged between your legs, holding you in place. Gripping your shoulders, he clung to you with everything he had.

You had never been kissed like this in your life, and certainly not by Poe. He was giving you everything while taking it at the same time. You went weak in his arms as he stole your breath and your will to resist, yet you had never felt safer. It took your mind a moment longer to catch up, but once you realized he might pull away in doubt, you tilted your head and kissed him back with all the wild hunger burning inside you.

You heard something deep rumble in the expanse of his chest as his hands pressed the curve of your back, fingertips inching underneath your top, pushing it up to your shoulders. A dizzying euphoria of what could happen here left you gasping as he tore his mouth away, tugging at the hem and murmuring, “Let me feel you,” against your wet, bruised lips.

The slightest nod granted him permission to tear the garment over your head and toss it aside to flop on the water’s surface. Then his mouth found yours again as his hands touched every soft and supple part of you - in ways he’d dared not try before, not even asleep in your bed, against you.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. You might as well be drowning, but in him, rather than the warm lake.

Poe had always been the leader, but you were strong too. He wanted to go right when you insisted on going left. You challenged him, sometimes rather infuriatingly, but he outranked you and you respected that. In your personal friendship however, you always took the lead.

Like today, when you insisted he promise you an hour to relax. Just one hour to not be in charge or everything and carry the hope of the Resistance on his shoulders. He did, and it was wonderful and fun and easy - the way things always felt between you when you weren't butting heads.

And now, in this moment, in the serene, clear water, you'd never been so in sync, holding onto one another as desperately as you had on dangerous missions. Here, where he was now pulling away the flimsy fabric keeping you from feeling and knowing everything about each other.

Finally tearing his mouth from yours, he eased back enough to look into your eyes, and right to your soul - to the utter depths of you. You realized suddenly that he might see the raw, uncertain wonderings and possibilities of what it could be like to love him - really love him. You shivered in his arms and his head tilted quizzically, worry skittering across his handsome features - fear that he read this all wrong and had wounded the bond between you.

Even as he looked at you, his hand guided the thickness of your thigh around his waist and you responded eagerly, wrapping yourself around him and granting him the sweetest smile. A thousand quips came to mind, but this wasn't the moment. Not here, when he kissed you and laid himself bare in every possible way.

You could feel him now, intimately - his arousal rubbed quite obviously against you but he swallowed hard, restraining himself one more moment, to be absolutely certain.

You nodded again, shifting your hips in a suggestively obvious way, pulling him closer with your legs. Wetting his lips, his eyes flickered down between your bodies, where he reached to guide himself inside you, exhaling sharply as he pushed deeper and opened you up to feel the full, heavy length of him.

He groaned in satisfaction and relief, eyes rolling back in his head for a moment before his gaze locked with yours again.

The sensation of being this close to Poe - of actually feeling him inside you went beyond every dream that stirred secret yearnings: previous possibilities you’d crushed with common sense as soon as the sun rose and duty called. He was your friend. Your best friend and it could never be more than that - it wasn't even a thought you’d entertained, because to let the mere notion flicker and dance in your imagination was to give it life, to let it grow and then it would be this thing - this living idea.

And you couldn't kill an idea. It would grow and take the room it needed in your heart and suddenly you'd be overcome with the ridiculous notion that your best friend, and sometimes piloting rival, could ever be as in love with you as you so obviously were with him.

The surge of it overwhelmed you so that you squeezed your eyes shut before it washed over your like a wave, but it was too late - it was swelling and cresting and drowning you, sending your fingers grabbing desperately for his curls and your mouth crashing into his.

•¨•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ⁭ﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨*•

Darkness enveloped your sated, naked bodies, bobbing gently in the cooling lake. Everything would change now. You both knew it, so you held onto this serenity with adoring caresses and soft kisses.

Something about the cover of night felt perfect as you helped each other out of the water, searching for your discarded, drenched undergarments and laughing under the rising moons.

You dressed in your dry gear and packed up the picnic supplies in silence. But it was the comfortable quiet of a best friendship - the two of you moving in synchrony just as you would in a ship or on a mission.

He reached for the bag of picnic supplies while you held the wad of wet clothes, each of you using your outside arm, leaving hands free between you. His arm brushed yours as you walked - the two of you were always bumping shoulders and causing gossip to ripple through the Resistance base. You assumed tonight would be no different, especially if you returned from seclusion with wet hair.

Gone was the tension in his shoulders and corded neck. As you glanced in his profile, illumined by the moons’ glow, you noted that even his typically clenched jaw had relaxed. The corner of his mouth curved upward as you stared. It made you giggle and elbow him in the ribs. He nudged you right back, starting a flirtatious struggle that ended when he took hold of your hand.

But it wasn’t like before when his grip would halt your playful assault and likely start a wrestling match. This time, tenderly, he brushed his thumb over your knuckles before tangling his fingers with yours. With a gentle squeeze, he lifted your joined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss there.

Your breath caught. You swallowed hard as his gaze bore into yours for a brief eternity.

As the base came into view, you fully expected him to release your hand and act the way you always acted. Like friends. But he pulled you aside, behind a tree and crowded into your space.

Chest heaving with trepidation, you wondered how he would end this. What he would say to safely return you to the status of his bantering best friend.

But he kissed you. He dropped the picnic supplies, which clattered loudly to the ground. He took your face in his hands and stole your breath away - made you even weaker, somehow, with the fire of his kiss. Your hands fell limply to your sides, wet clothes thudding on top of the picnic bag.

Before your hesitation could give him one moment’s doubt, however, you gripped his flight suit in your fists and pulled him closer, kissing him endlessly, and with all your heart.

Touching his forehead to yours, he whispered your name, the shape of it tickling your cheek. Turning your mouth to meet his whisper, you kissed again, endlessly, wordlessly.

To love Poe, to touch him, to know him in every way, would present a wondrous journey and beauty you never dreamed could exist in the ugliness of galactic war.

"You're so quiet," he finally whispered, holding you against him. "Can I kiss you next time you defy my orders?"

"Only if you take me swimming after," you laughed, playfully but gently shoving him away.

He caught your hand in his, and granted you the smile you lived for.

•¨•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ⁭ﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨*•

Supplies gathered, appearances straightened, you made it back to base, bumping shoulders as you walked too close, as usual.

This time, however, as the door whooshed open, Poe slid his fingers through yours and led you inside.

•¨•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ⁭ﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨*•

Poe Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Join my tag list

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poevember

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str8rat · 4 months ago

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I gotchu brother

they're so mushy together ahshsfhsfhafa

._. loop rn

thank you!! I'm super glad you're enjoying my au :D jumps in place happily lmao and hmmm, when it comes to this au, i don't know about any animatics, since it does take a lot of time and work- and i just popped out my second animatic within a span of three weeks, so i'm spent ._. for now at least! if any plans for such would arise however, i will let everyone know! But I definitely plan on further diving into this au, as i'm really passionate about it. if anyone would be up for it, i'd be super excited to draw things specifically related to this au or answering any questions! I'm still kind of figuring things out, but definitely don't hesitate to ask anything :3

anyways, to answer your question!!

POLISH SIFFRIN LETS GO

this is such a goofy concept and i'm all for it

i love how goofy this old woman looks

ANYWAYS the ask box is still open!! if anyone has any questions regarding the au/ wants me to draw anything isat related, do not hesitate :3 especially if i'm starting to run out of asks ._.

#in stars and time #art #cute #digital art #isat loop #isat siffrin #isat mirabelle #isat isabeau #isat odile #isat bonnie #isat #in stars and time siffrin #artists on tumblr #isat fanart #isat au #fanart

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radioactive-reactions · 8 months ago

Note

How would the companions react to discovering not only Vault 111 but also the frozen Sole Survivor

Whether they saw it as a potential treasure trove, a nostalgic relic, or just a safe, quiet refuge, Vault 111 always seemed to attract the odd scavenger or adventurer. After slipping past the door, however, this particular intruder would end up stumbling upon something far stranger than they could expect...

Cait hadn't really taken the time to scope out the Vault before diving into it headfirst- having a pack of feral dogs nipping at your heels will do that to you. Coming face to face with the frozen Sole Survivor down there is freaky enough to give her a heart attack, but as the perfect audience for her rambling stories and a nonjudgmental drinking buddy they soon become the centerpiece of her impromptu hideout. As for actually getting them out? Fuck if she knows how.

Codsworth knows full well what the Vault up the hill contains, of course. How could he not? Much of the aging robot's time is spent tending to his owners' pods: tightening every bolt, polishing the glass, keeping the steel casing free of even a single speck of rust. The only thing that keeps him going is the thought that on some level, under that thin layer of frost, they might know he's there for them.

Curie's unbridled excitement at making contact with another Vault is quickly tempered once she actually sets eyes on the denizens of said Vault. With nothing but time and centuries' worth of medical expertise to work with, she immediately sets to the task of bringing Vault 111 back to life- not just the Sole Survivor, but everyone consigned to a cold and inglorious fate in those cryopods. This is a mission worth spending another two hundred years on.

Danse has been assigned to scour the Vault as part of a routine sweep for useful technology- a task entirely beneath a Paladin, but what he finds there more than makes up for it. Immediately, a whole field research team is dispatched to the vault and the cryopods are airlifted out one by one. The Sole Survivor's first memory of the new world is waking up to the harsh white light of a Brotherhood lab, bombarded with questions and shoved blearily through a battery of tests. Not a great first impression.

Deacon still thinks the Vault would make an ideal fallback hideout, even with the rows of corpsicles. The eerie blue glow and residents in cryosleep are pitched to Desdemona as enhancing the ambience, but the suggestion is soundly denied for the Vault's visibility. Even so, Deacon maintains a post outside, just in case one of those poor bastards stumbles out one day.

When Hancock inexplicably wakes up in the Vault after partying a little too hard, he immediately assumes he's still hallucinating- that, or he's been picked up by Zetans. It takes him hours of trying to pry the Sole Survivor's pod open in a hungover haze to finally give up, writing the place off as another of the Old World's many sins and decent subject matter for his next speech.

MacCready almost feels at home in the vast underground chambers of the Vault. Almost. No matter how convenient the Vault is as a last-ditch hideout, its residents creep him out too much to stay there for any real length of time. He tries his hardest to avoid their frozen stares, endlessly grateful that it's them in there and not him.

Valentine relates to the frozen Sole Survivor a little more than he'd like to admit. Two abandoned relics, used to serve a greater purpose and then thrown out like so much junk when they were done. He knows more than anyone what a harsh awakening they're going to have- if they do wake up. Every so often, he'll wander back to check on them, sharing a yarn about his latest case and watching for any progress. On the day that pod does unseal, he'll be there to lend a helping hand... but until then, all he can do is maintain a file. It's one hell of a cold case.

Piper feels a little guilty that her first thought is how good of a story this will make. 'Pod people slumber among us', maybe? She doesn't want to risk the Sole Survivor's life by touching anything, but maybe if she spreads the word someone out there will be able to help them. That's how she justifies it to herself, anyway- now if only there was some concrete link to the Institute she could work in...

Preston has been surveying the area around Sanctuary for potential threats to the burgeoning settlement... and he still isn't entirely sure that this doesn't count as one. It takes a moment to line up the resident registry with the names on Sanctuary's rusted-out mailboxes, but once he does, he has the Vault sealed up again out of respect for those who came before. If he and his scant resources can't help them, he can at least let them rest in peace.

Strong hammers away at the pod to no avail before stomping off in a huff to seek his next victim somewhere else. Canned food clearly isn't his thing.

X6-88 is here for a routine checkup - nothing more, nothing less. Although the Director had been cagey about what exactly he wanted to be kept safe down here, there was nothing X6 wouldn't be prepared for... so he thought, at least. The sight of a person, frozen and contained, gives him a rare moment of pause and elicits an uncomfortable, involuntary comparison to the dormant synths rolling off the assembly line. Nevertheless, he makes sure the cryopod is still functional and returns home, all the while trying to forget their strange resemblance to the Director.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fo4 cait #codsworth #fo4 deacon #fo4 curie #paladin danse #john hancock #rj maccready #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #fo4 strong #x6 88 #reactions #the april fools joke is me being active #who else is looking forward to that fallout 4 remaster? i am #despite myself

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thespectralcottage · 1 year ago

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🌸✨Glamour Magic✨🌸

Lets dive into some ✨glamour magic✨ Glamour magic is the act of enchanting items you commonly wear such as makeup, skincare, hygiene products, accessories, ect. Often its used for illusion magic, protection drawing someone in, bring in abundance, self love and other forms of spell work. The exciting thing with glamour magic is the huge range and its often undetectable. Perfect for any closeted witches. You can enchant your toothpaste, skincare, soap, makeup, perfume, pretty much anything and have it serve you. 🌸✨Ideas for Enchantments + Tips✨🌸 These are just some basic ideas to help you get started. You can truly do anything with glamours so get creative and go wild.

Enchant your glasses, mascara or eye creams to help with clarity.

Use items you physical cleanse with, to spiritually cleanse like toothpaste, makeup remover, soap and facial cleansers.

Draw sigils on your face with moisturizer, foundation or concealer.

Enchant your shoes with a road opener spell

Enchant your mirrors for self-love, confidence and happiness

Match your perfume with herbal correspondences or moods. Or enchant a daily perfume with a certain spell like cleansing, allure or confidence.

Use concealer to invoke invisibility

Say affirmations while you get ready for the day

Ask the element water to cleanse you when you wash your face, shower or take a bath

Use color magic for eyeshadow, nail polish or your outfit

Enchant lipsticks, chapstick or lip gloss for people to be enchanted by your words, unable to forget them, believe them even if you lie, ect.

Spray your bed with spellcrafted sprays or herbal correspondences you want to use. i.e: chamomile spray for more restful sleep/peace

Add Florida water to your washing machine to cleanse clothing/bedding

Wear spellcrafted oils or balms to bring that energy into your day

Enchant sunscreen to help with protection and shielding. Wear ya damn sunscreen.

Put money spell oil in your hair before work or enchant jewelry for abundance (especially if you get tipped at your job)

Assign different spiritual hygiene steps to your skincare routine.

Happy Spellcrafting ⚰️

#photo is not mine & idk whos it is so comment for credits🌿#witchblr #pagan witch #witchcraft #witchythings #spellwork #the spectral cottage #glamour magic #spell tips #witch tips #witch community

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rafemotherfuckingcameron · 1 month ago

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DIVING FOR GOLD

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairing(s): Rafe x Reader

Warnings: Scuba Diving, Sharing Air, Comfort, Injury, Flirting

Summary: Rafe and Y/N dive for treasure, but nothing is ever safe 250 meters below the surface.

Part 1 Part 2

The door to the bar swings open, and you look up from behind the counter, your eyes landing on Rafe as he strides in. He’s a familiar face, his confident demeanor making him stand out even among the Friday night crowd. As he approaches, you can’t help but notice the way his gaze lingers on you, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey there, Y/N,” he says as he takes a seat at the bar, leaning casually against the polished wood. “I’ll have a beer, please.” He watches you with an intensity that sends a flutter through your stomach.

You pour his drink, trying to focus on your task. “What’s got you in here tonight? Looking for some fun?”

“Always,” he replies, his voice smooth. “But I’m hoping for something a little more thrilling than just beer and small talk. I heard you’re quite the diver. What’s the deepest you’ve ever gone?”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden interest.

I usually stick to free diving—keeps things simple and safe.”

He leans in, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Simple is good, but what if I told you there’s a whole world down there waiting to be explored?....... I’ve got a lead on a shipwreck—250 meters down. Can you imagine what we might find?”

Your curiosity piques, and you can’t help but ask, “A shipwreck? That’s pretty deep. What makes you interested in it?”

Rafe grins, leaning closer. “It’s not just about the wreck. There’s a story behind it—a treasure that’s been lost for decades. It could be a real adventure, and you’d get to experience something most people only dream about.”

You consider his words, your heart racing at the thought of the unknown. “It sounds tempting, but 250 meters is no joke. That kind of depth can be dangerous.”

He nods, his expression earnest. “I know it’s risky, but I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think we could handle it. Just imagine what we could discover together. Plus, I’m offering $50,000 for your help.”

The number hangs in the air, and you feel a rush of temptation mixed with hesitation. “That’s a lot of money, but I’m not sure I can do it. Money is worth nothing if you’re dead.”

Rafe’s gaze sharpens, a flicker of determination crossing his face. He reaches out, gently placing his hand over yours, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

There’s a softness in his voice, a flirtation laced with genuine care that sends a thrill down your spine. You shake your head, still unsure. “Even for that amount, I don’t know…”

“Okay,” he replies, his tone shifting slightly as he leans in closer, his thumb brushing lightly against your hand. “What if I double it? How does $100,000 sound?”

Your breath catches at the new figure, and for a moment, the weight of his offer hangs heavy between you. The thrill of adventure and the promise of that kind of money pulls at you, but the fear lingers just beneath the surface. There’s a softness in his voice, a flirtation laced with genuine care that sends a thrill down your spine.

You take a deep breath, weighing the risks and rewards. “Okay, I’ll do it but, I want you to know that this is dangerous. We need to be prepared.”

Rafe’s eyes light up with excitement. “Absolutely! What do we need?”

You nod, your mind racing with the essentials. “We’ll need a scuba tanks, Masks, Map, Carry boxes, flippers, two pressure regulators, flashlights, and parachute air lift bags. Those are non-negotiable for diving at that depth.”

“Consider it done,” he replies, a grin spreading across his face. “I’ll take care of everything. You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

Rafe grins, clearly excited about the plan. “We’ll do it in two days. Come to mine at 5 PM Thursday night, and we’ll go over the details. We’ll leave at 8 PM sharp.”

He leans in closer, a confident glint in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Y/N; you’re the best diver on the island. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”

You feel a mix of pride and apprehension at his words. “Alright, I’ll be there,” you say, nodding, trying to shake off the nerves building in your stomach.

“Great! I can’t wait. See you soon.” With that, Rafe flashes you a charming smile before turning to leave the bar, leaving you with a racing heart and a whirlwind of thoughts about the dive ahead.

===

As the sun glistens off the water as you make your way to Rafe’s house. A flutter of excitement mingles with nerves as you approach the dock, where he texted you to meet.

As you step onto the jetty, you spot Rafe kneeling by the edge, meticulously arranging the diving equipment. The sight of all the gear lays a new wave of seriousness over the impending adventure.

“Hey, Y/N,” he calls out, glancing up with a smirk. “You look really good in that bikini.” His eyes quickly dart back down to the ground, a hint of shyness breaking through his confident exterior.

“Thanks,” you reply, feeling a blush creep to your cheeks. You can’t help but smile at his compliment, even as you try to keep your focus on the task ahead. “I hope I look good enough for the dive.”

Rafe chuckles, his gaze finally meeting yours. “Trust me, you look more than good enough. Now, let’s go over everything we’ll need before we get started.”

You walk over to where Rafe has laid out the gear, inspecting everything with a critical eye. You check the tanks for any faults, ensuring that everything is in working order before the dive. As you run your hands over the equipment, Rafe watches you with a curious expression.

“What are the parachutes for?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, genuinely puzzled.

You pause for a moment, shooting him a look that says, Are you serious? It’s clear he doesn’t quite understand the necessity. “How did you think we were getting the gold to the surface?” you reply, a mix of disbelief and amusement in your voice.

Rafe scratches the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I figured we’d just swim it up,” he admits, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not that simple, Rafe. The treasure could be heavy, and we need to make sure we can safely bring it back up. The parachute airlift bags will help us manage the weight.”

He nods, a newfound understanding in his eyes. “Got it. You really know your stuff, huh?”

“Just trying to be smart about it,” you say, feeling more confident."

You load everything onto the boat, anticipation building as you head north toward the shipwreck. The engines roar to life, and the salty breeze whips through your hair, making you feel alive.

After about twenty minutes, Rafe slows the boat and glances at the GPS. “We’re here,” he says, excitement dancing in his eyes. You peer over the edge, the deep blue water shimmering below.

At the back of the boat, you gear up, and Rafe follows closely behind, his presence both reassuring and a little distracting. “Need help with that tank?” you tease as he struggles.

“Just trying to impress you,” he replies with a smirk, finally securing it.

You check your regulator and strap your flashlight and knife to your belt. “You look pretty good in all that gear,” you flirt back, trying to keep things light.

“Thanks, but I can’t compete with you in that bikini,” he shoots back, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

Once fully equipped, you step to the edge of the boat. “Alright, remember:, we have to stop halfway on the way up to avoid getting sick,” you remind him, your heart racing with excitement.

“Got it. Just don’t let go of my hand, okay?” he jokes, taking your hand as you both prepare to dive.

With one last look at each other, you take a deep breath and plunge into the cool water enveloping you as you descend slowly.

🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊💰⭐️🤿🌊

@ilovethekookprince @rafecameronsgirfriend

@anonymouscameron @theoraekenslover

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron concepts #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx #outer banks #obx fanfiction #OBX4 #Rafe!diving x reader!diving #obx gold

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 4 months ago

Text

𓅨 Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: Chapter Three

Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: You've got narcolepsy and have been visiting the Dreaming daily for years. Then its Lord and King finally return and he doesn't know quite what to think of you.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Narcoleptic!Reader, for you dear @aralezinspace.

Word Count: ~2.8k

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The conference room is buzzing with the energy of anticipation. Colleagues chat and shuffle papers, the soft hum of conversations blending with the occasional clatter of keyboards. You stand at the front of the room, your laptop open on the podium, projecting your meticulously prepared slides onto the large screen behind you. This presentation is important; you've spent countless hours perfecting every detail.

"Alright, everyone," you begin, your voice steady but with a hint of nervous excitement. "Thank you for joining me today. Let's get started."

You glance at your notes, feeling a rush of hopeful determination. You’ve practiced this presentation multiple times, knowing the material inside out. The room quiets as you dive into your introduction, discussing the project’s goals and methodologies. You’re in the zone, the information flowing smoothly from your lips, each slide transition perfectly timed.

"And as you can see here," you say, pointing to a particularly detailed graph, "the data suggests a significant upward trend in..."

Suddenly, you feel a wave of drowsiness wash over you. It’s a feeling you know all too well, the heavy pull of narcolepsy, but you push it aside, focusing on the task at hand. You can’t afford to fall asleep now, not in the middle of your presentation.

You take a deep breath and continue, but the drowsiness intensifies. Your vision starts to blur, and the edges of the room seem to darken. You grip the podium, trying to steady yourself, but the words on your slides start to swim before your eyes.

"Are you okay?" Kate’s concerned voice breaks through the haze.

You try to respond, but your voice comes out weak and slurred. Panic grips you as you realize what’s happening. You’re about to have an episode, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The room tilts, and the faces of your colleagues blur into a kaleidoscope of colors.

"Someone catch them!" Kate shouts, her voice seeming to come from a great distance.

Your knees buckle, and you collapse to the floor, the world around you fading into darkness as you slip into a deep, uncontrollable sleep.

You awaken, not in the sterile confines of the conference room, but in a sprawling library filled with towering shelves of ancient tomes. The air is thick with the scent of aged paper and leather bindings. A soft, ethereal light filters through stained glass windows high above, casting colorful patterns on the polished wooden floor.

"Seriously?" you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "Now? Of all times?"

From behind a nearby shelf, a tall figure steps into view. His pale skin and dark, flowing robes give him an otherworldly presence. It's Morpheus.

"You seem distressed," he observes, his voice as smooth as silk.

"Yeah, no kidding," you snap, pacing back and forth. "I was in the middle of a really important presentation when I had an episode."

Morpheus tilts his head slightly, curiosity evident in his eyes. "Episode?"

You stop pacing and face him, arms crossed over your chest. "Narcolepsy. It means I fall asleep uncontrollably sometimes. And it always happens at the worst possible moments."

Morpheus nods slowly, as if weighing your words carefully. "I see."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. "I’ve had it for years, but it never gets easier. One moment I'm wide awake, the next I'm out like a light."

"And this presentation," Morpheus continues, "it was important to you?"

"Extremely," you reply, feeling the weight of your frustration settle in your chest again. "I spent weeks preparing for it. Now who knows what’ll happen."

Morpheus’ gaze seems to pierce through you, understanding but distant. "Time flows differently here," he says after a pause. "Perhaps all is not lost."

You let out a bitter laugh. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to deal with real-world consequences."

He regards you quietly for a moment before speaking again. "This library holds many secrets and answers. Perhaps you can find something here that might aid you in your waking life."

You glance around the vast library, considering Dream's words. The towering shelves beckon, filled with knowledge and secrets that might hold the key to controlling your condition. You take a hesitant step forward, but before you can reach the nearest shelf, the world begins to dissolve around you. The colors and shapes blur and shift, pulling you away from the Morpheus realm.

You blink awake, finding yourself back on the conference room floor. Kate’s worried face hovers above you, her brow furrowed with concern. Colleagues stand around in a loose circle, their faces etched with worry and confusion.

"Hey," Kate says softly, helping you sit up. "Take it easy. You just collapsed out of nowhere."

You rub your eyes, still disoriented from the abrupt transition. "I'm... I'm okay," you manage to say, though your voice sounds shaky even to your own ears.

"You sure?" another colleague asks, his voice tinged with skepticism.

"Yeah," you reply more firmly this time. "Just a narcoleptic episode. Happens sometimes."

Kate helps you to your feet, her grip steady and reassuring. "You should see a doctor about this," she insists. "It can't be good for your health."

You nod, though you've heard similar concerns countless times before. "I am seeing someone," you reassure her. "Actually, I’m working on a new therapy right now."

Kates eyes widen slightly. "Really? What kind of therapy?"

"It's experimental," you explain as you gather your notes from the floor and return them to the podium. "It involves regulating sleep patterns and improving wakefulness during the day. Still in the early stages, but I'm hopeful."

A murmur of relief ripples through your colleagues. They begin to disperse, returning to their seats but keeping an eye on you.

"You sure you're up for continuing?" Kate asks, her tone still laced with concern.

"Yeah," you reply with a determined nod. "Let's get back to it."

You’re back home, the dim glow of your bedside lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. Exhaustion weighs heavily on you, a familiar companion. The day has been long, and the unexpected episode drained whatever energy you had left. You change into your pajamas and slip under the covers, the cool sheets a welcome comfort.

As soon as your head hits the pillow, sleep takes you. Instantly, you're transported back to the Dreaming. The grand library unfolds before you, its towering shelves stretching into infinity. Morpheus stands nearby, his dark robes flowing like water in an unseen breeze.

“Back so soon?” he muses, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Seems like it,” you reply, walking toward him. “I can never predict when I’ll end up here.”

He inclines his head. “True enough. Your visits have been frequent over the decades.”

You chuckle softly, feeling a sense of ease wash over you in his presence. “Yeah, it’s almost like I’ve been helping out here as long as I can remember.”

Morpheus nods thoughtfully. “Indeed, your assistance has been invaluable to the Dreaming.”

You glance around at the vast expanse of bookshelves, filled with countless tomes of knowledge and secrets. “Well, I do what I can,” you say with a modest shrug.

He regards you with those piercing eyes of his, seeming to see right through you. “Your efforts are appreciated more than you know,” he says quietly.

Before you can respond, Lucienne appears from between two towering shelves, her arms laden with books.

“Ah, there you are,” she says with a warm smile. “I could use some help with these.”

You step forward eagerly. “Of course, Lucienne. What do you need?”

She hands you a stack of books. “These need to be shelved in their proper places,” she explains. “It’s quite the task, but I’m sure with your help we can manage.”

You take the books from her and follow her deeper into the library. The shelves seem to shift and rearrange themselves as you walk, creating new paths and corridors filled with endless rows of volumes.

“It's always a bit disorienting at first,” you remark as you navigate through the ever-changing landscape.

Lucienne chuckles softly. “You get used to it after a while,” she assures you.

The two of you work in comfortable silence for a while, placing books on their designated shelves with practiced ease. There’s something soothing about this routine task, far more enjoyable than the monotony of your daily life.

Morpheus watches from a distance, his expression unreadable but somehow softer than usual. As you continue shelving books with Lucienne, you are ignorant to his scrutiny. He leaves you to shelve books, appeased that you don't intend to harm him or his realm.

When you are turning around to grab the next book, a low rumble vibrates through the floor, making the bookshelves shudder. You glance at Lucienne, whose face tightens with concern.

“Did you feel that?” you ask, gripping the book in your hand a little tighter.

“Yes,” she replies, her voice calm but tense. “It’s not normal.”

Before you can respond, Morpheus appears beside once more, his expression grave. “There’s a disturbance,” he says, eyes flickering with a darkened edge.

“What kind of disturbance?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing.

“A vortex,” he answers. “A powerful one. It threatens to unravel the fabric of the Dreaming.”

Your heart skips a beat. You’ve heard of vortices before, anomalies capable of tearing apart dreams and causing chaos. “What can we do?”

Morpheus turns away, his dark coat billowing like smoke. "I shall take care of it," he repeats, more firmly this time. "Remain in the library."

Before you can protest, he vanishes, leaving you and Lucienne standing amidst the towering shelves.

Lucienne places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "He’ll handle it. Morpheus always does."

"Is he always an ass about accepting help?" You snort.

Lucienne chuckles at your comment. "He's not used to accepting help," she admits. "Morpheus is, well, Morpheus-like in many ways. Including his stubbornness."

You sigh, the weight of concern heavy in your chest. Despite Morpheus’ assurances, you couldn't shake off the worry that gnawed at you. The Dreaming was as much your home as the waking world, and the thought of it being threatened sent a chill down your spine. The ground isn’t supposed to shake like that.

"You seem troubled," Lucienne notes, her voice soft with concern.

"I just... I can't just stand by and do nothing," you tell her, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “He’s back but there are still problems. He can’t do everything by himself.”

Lucienne considers you for a moment before responding. "There might be something you can do," she says slowly. "There are books here that contain knowledge about vortices. If we could understand more about what we're dealing with..."

You nod eagerly, catching on to her plan. "We can find a way to help Morpheus deal with it."

With eagerness now running through your body, you and Lucienne dive into the towering shelves of the library. Books are pulled out, their pages flipped through in search of information on vortices. The quiet rustle of turning pages and the occasional murmur as one of you found a promising detail fills the air.

Hours seemed to pass as you research, but time was a fluid concept in the Dreaming. You barely notice the ethereal light filtering through the stained glass windows shifting and changing, casting different patterns on the polished wooden floor.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lucienne pulled out a particularly ancient tome. Her eyes widen as she skims through its pages. "I think this might be what we're looking for," she says, excitement tinged with apprehension evident in her voice.

You move closer to take a look at the book. The pages are filled with complex diagrams and notes written in a flowing script. It seemed to detail the formation and behavior of vortices in the Dreaming.

"This could be our chance to help," you say, a sense of determination settling in your heart. "Stubborn ass isn't going to fix this by himself."

"Don't let him hear you calling him that," Lucienne calls to you and your response is to roll your eyes.

"What's he gonna do? Banish me?" You retort. "Not even he can control my dreaming."

You step into the familiar realm of Cain and Abel, their quaint little houses standing side by side like mismatched bookends. The air carries a faint scent of earth and old wood. As you approach, the usual bickering between the brothers reaches your ears.

"Can't you ever be careful?" Abel's voice rings out, frustration evident.

"I was careful!" Cain retorts, his tone defensive. "It's not my fault you're always in the way."

You clear your throat to announce your presence. Both brothers turn to look at you, their expressions shifting from annoyance to a mix of surprise and unease.

"Ah, our frequent visitor," Cain greets you, attempting a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "What brings you here today?"

"Just checking in," you reply, scanning the area. "Where's Gregory? I haven't seen him around."

The question hangs in the air, thickening the tension between the brothers. Abel shifts uncomfortably, glancing at Cain for guidance.

Cain sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. "There's something we need to tell you."

Abel steps forward, his usually gentle demeanor tinged with sadness. "Gregory... Gregory had to be reabsorbed by Morpheus."

Your heart skips a beat at the news. "Reabsorbed? Why?"

"Morpheus needed his sand to regain some of his power," Cain explains, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Gregory's essence was part of that sand."

You feel a lump forming in your throat. Gregory had always been a comforting presence in this strange world—clumsy but endearing, a gentle giant among darker forces.

Abel reaches out and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "It was necessary," he says quietly. "For the greater good of the Dreaming."

"But it doesn't make it any easier," Cain adds, his eyes meeting yours with a rare moment of understanding.

You nod slowly, processing the loss. The Dreaming is full of sacrifices and choices that often blur the lines between right and wrong. This is just another reminder of that harsh reality.

"Thank you for telling me," you say finally, your voice steady despite the sadness welling up inside you.

Abel gives you a small, sympathetic smile. "We'll miss him too."

The three of you stand there for a moment in silent acknowledgment of Gregory's absence. The air feels heavier now, laden with the weight of loss and the relentless march of necessity in this ever-shifting world.

Abel's eyes soften as he looks at you. "Come with me. There's someone I want you to meet."

You follow Abel, leaving Cain standing by his house. He leads you around the side of his home, where a small, makeshift pen has been set up. Inside, nestled on a bed of straw, is a tiny, golden creature with large, expressive eyes.

"This is Goldie," Abel says gently. "Morpheus gave her to me as an apology for Gregory."

Goldie looks up at you with a curious tilt of her head, her wings fluttering slightly. She's small, almost delicate, but there's an undeniable spark of life in her eyes that reminds you of Gregory's gentle spirit.

You kneel down to get a closer look. Goldie hops over to you, her golden scales catching the light and shimmering like precious metal. She nudges your hand with her tiny snout, and you can't help but smile.

"She's beautiful," you say softly, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you. Abel smiles too, a genuine one that reaches his eyes.

You gently stroke Goldie's head, feeling the smoothness of her scales under your fingertips. "Thank you for introducing me to her," you say to Abel.

"She'll need time to adjust," Abel continues, watching Goldie with fondness. "But I think she'll be happy here."

Cain appears around the corner, arms crossed but with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Don't spoil her too much," he warns playfully.

Abel chuckles. "I'll try not to."

Goldie chirps happily as if sensing the lighthearted banter between the brothers. Her presence seems to ease some of the tension that always lingers between Cain and Abel. Too bad she’ll never be able to cede the daily retelling of their story.

You rise to your feet and dust your palms against your pants. Goldie nuzzles against Abel’s leg before flitting back to her bed of straw. She curls up contentedly, her golden scales gleaming in the soft light.

"You'll take good care of her," you say with a smile. “I am sure she’ll grow big and strong. “

Abel nods. "I will."

Cain rolls his eyes but there's no malice in it this time. "Let's hope she doesn't end up as high-maintenance as Gregory was."

You snort out a laugh.

Date Published: 7/24/24

Last Edit: 7/24/24

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#morpheus x reader #the sandman netflix #lord morpheus #dream the endless #sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream the endless x reader #the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus

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lexluvswriting · 6 months ago

Note

I’m so excited for princess treatment!!!!

EDIT: PRINCESS TREATMENT IS OUT !!!

I AM ALSO SO EXCITED FOR PRINCESS TREATMENT!!!

For some reason, my brain has decided that Hozier and Loki are like tea and biscuits, which makes tears roll down my thighs. AHEM.

Anywayyyy... because anon that requested princess treatment has waited so long for me to get my shit together, i'd like to give you guys a slice of the cream pie Loki will give you THE FIC while i polish up the final touches (hehe) <3<3<3

--- ⋆⁺₊✧｡˚⋆♛｡⁺୨୧˚⋆⁺₊✧ ---

[18+ CONTENT AHEAD, SUGGESTIVE, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

“He was right.”

“Who, love?” He hummed, barely listening to your vent, more focused on soothing you and your body- his vice, as he’d tell you whenever he was in between your legs, or looking up at you as you’d ride him- only to pause at your next words.

“The lord.” You sniffled, looking up at him with teary eyes as you shuffled slightly, climbing up him to rest your head against his chest.

“The lord? The lord is an insignificant fool- a worm who has been left alive to wriggle for too long. You are wonderful, beloved-”

“Loki.” You groaned, sullen as you hid your face against his neck, not in the mood for sympathy- regardless of how sincere it may have been.

“Be honest with yourself!” You snapped, the anger not even anger at all, but a storm of self-doubt, harsh self-criticism and insecurity,

“All these nobles see is a frumpy pig in pearls & frilly dresses, alright? So let us say it for what it is. I am fat. I am fat, and hard to look at, and I don’t even look like a proper princess-”

“Never,” He had flipped you both over faster than you could blink, his snarl protective as he grabbed your face with his left hand, pinning your hands above your head on the pillow with your right, rearranging your positions with that unfair godly strength he possessed, “Utter that filth again.”

Your tears had stopped in their tracks; doe eyes wide as you looked up at him, pouty lips parted in shock, face slightly flushed from crying.

“For as long as the sun brings day, and the moon calls night, I never want to hear you utter such horrid curses. Not a damn word. Do you hear me?” He growled, fingers holding your chin firmly before his hand cupped the side of your face instead, thumb brushing away the tears that lingered before his thumb rubbed at the soft squish of your cheek, index and thumb pinching the apples of your cheek- the only apples he’d crave as long as he lived- gently, before kissing either side of your face.

“You are the only woman in all nine realms I love. You are the only woman I want; be it above me, beneath me or by my side. You may be the people’s princess, but you are a queen to me. The only woman I would kneel for- be it in the comfort of our bed chambers, or in the middle of the damn courtyard. Understand?” His words reverberated in your ears, rattling around your puddle of a brain before slinking over your heart and straight down to your core. The warmth he had triggered when he defended you during the meeting came back again in full force, your breathing hitching as you gawked up at him, before finally nodding dumbly, as if you had lost all ability to speak.

“If this is truly how you feel, then I must be punished for failing you.”

You blinked, trying to understand where he was going with this- your sulky voice a mere squeak as you echoed his words,

“P… punished?-”

“Oh, yes. Punished severely, for failing to present just how infatuated I am.” He murmured lowly as if this was a grave offence, his cock stirring in his pants as he saw your brain working behind your eyes; the way the words clicked and the way your thighs squeezed together, making your cheeks redden as your lips quivered.

“If I have to fuck my love into you for you to remember how beautiful you are, then I will make sure neither of us leave this bed until I have done it successfully.” His voice had taken a husky dive, your stomach coiling as your chest puffed up, nipples pebbling beneath the layers of fabric making up the bodice of your dress.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧｡˚⋆♛｡⁺୨୧˚⋆⁺₊✧ ---

I hope we all like!! 🤭🫣

Will be out in a few hours!! <3 <3 <3

#lexluvsbabbling 🌬#lexluvswriting ✏️#lexluvssmut 🐰#lex luvs loki laufeyson #HNNGGG I LOVED WRITING THIS #had me kicking my feet and hiding my face omg #HEHEHEH #tom hiddleston loki #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki of asgard #loki of jotunheim #loki x reader #loki smut #loki mcu #loki oneshot

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giveafike · 8 days ago

Note

Hi can you write Ben Shelton x fem reader where reader is also a pro player and her and Ben are like close friends and team up to play mixed doubles in like the us open and it's kinda like friends to lovers and they being all flirty on court and eventually admit feelings to each other?

TLDR: STORY! Tennisplayer!fem reader x Ben Shelton friends to lovers. Sort of took them flirty on and off court. Tried to build it up. Mention of Bryan Shelton and Tommy Paul cameo, thanks for stopping by, kings.

Word count + info: 17.6k! SUPER LONG STORYTIME w dialogue! (over an hour's worth of reading, ouu you're well fed tonight)

Character Inspo: Just a sweet girl, like "girl-next-door" girl. Listened to "After the First Kiss" - Faye Webster writing this (cried on first listen, enjoy the link), if that helps you envision sweet, cute, pure vibes. No specifications are mentioned (except a general "shorter" height than Ben).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW - no warnings - slight mention of cheating and gaslighting.

Azzie Notes ✚: Hi my sweet munchkins! I'm so sorry anon, this took so long to come out but life got busy + then tumblr had this unavailable for me when I queued to post which tbh was a miracle bc I was rlly unsure while writing this, and I took my own time to reread and rework it, but idk guess I have writer's block, sorta? It doesn't feel like my best work... be brutally honest w me in ur feedback when u finish reading.

And then also there's a part that was just v vulnerable for me to write, but I couldn't really imagine the scene playing out any differently. Essentially, Y/N's dialogue about her ex - that's my lived experience...erm, so I was just tinkering of ways to rewrite it but I just couldn't think of anything else to fill it with.

Anywho, boy do I have a lotta requests coming up! Be patients w me pls! Also anon, "d" you are a genius, I'm so excited to write ur prompt hehehehe, but sorry if it takes some time :(. I got a Holiday surprise coming up, I'll lyk by the end of the month what that is, but OOOH, SFW Shelton nation, prepare urselves! How are we doing otherwise? Let me know! Are you taking good care of your health in these cold months + wrapping up? Make sure to get your vitamins in! Also, is my tumblr ugly? Should I make a colour theme and redo my masterlist properly? Help?

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Beyond the Baseline - B.T.S

The relationship between you and Ben Shelton was like watching day and night play tennis. Seriously, how could you be friends? What did you even have in common? What would you even talk about?

You, polished, textbook perfect, poised. A steady player who never lets emotions show on the court. Confident but never loud about it. After a win, you’d offer a graceful nod to the crowd, maybe a modest fist pump, but never more. Your game was a masterclass in precision in every shot calculated, every movement on and off court methodical. Fans admired how you dismantled opponents with strategy and patience, and your flawless form made it look effortless. Off the court, you were polite and kindred, smiling, making everyone feel at ease without even trying.

You were the embodiment of calm, pristine tennis. If anyone wanted an example of “playing by the book,” they’d point to you.

And then there was Ben Shelton.

Ben, who was your complete opposite. Loud, unpredictable, made waves and was unapologetic, and yet, utterly captivating. His game thrived on power and chaos, booming serves, fast sprinting bursts across the court, and reckless dives to the net, every point celebrated with fist pumps and wild energy. He lived for those moments that made crowds roar, he basked and riled the stands. When you calmly shake hands with your opponents, Ben chats effortlessly at the net, teasing, joking, and slapping his opponent’s back with that infectious grin. Impossible to dislike, even when he was cocky. Off the court, he was just as loud, just as alive when socialising. If you were a quiet, steady river with your course set, Ben was a wildfire, impossible to contain or predict.

Yet, somehow, despite your differences, you clicked.

It all started that first year on tour at a crossover event where the tours shared a venue. After a long day of matches, you found yourself in the players' lounge, neatly perched in a plush chair, legs crossed, posture upright and as perfect as ever. You still had that composed, in-control air about you, ready to handle anything gracefully.

Then, in strolled Ben Shelton.

He collapsed into the chair across from you, manspreading like it was his personal throne, slouching so far down it was a wonder he didn’t slide onto the floor.

He glanced at you with a lazy grin, his curls messy and unruly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Y'always sit like you’re posing for the cover of Tennis Monthly?” he asked, amusement laced with that accent of his, no intention of introductions or small talk.

You blinked, taken aback for a few seconds. “I-...what?”

“Yeah,” he continued, sitting up a bit as he waved a hand at your upright posture. “We’re off the court. Y'know, you can relax, right?”

You stared, completely thrown off by his audacity. Who starts a conversation like that? And how do you even reply to that? You didn’t even know him well, yet here he was already challenging you. Your lips broke into an awkward, tight line as your mouth was still agape, trying to find words to respond - not that you needed to, it seemed like Ben had more to tease you about, clearly enjoying your confusion with a wider, gummy smile.

“Don’t tell me you play tennis like this too, all tight 'n rigid. That's so boring.”

It took a moment, but when you finally brought your eyes up to his, you burst out laughing. His nerve! “You did not just say that,” you managed between giggles, shaking your head in disbelief. “My tennis form? Really? You want to talk about form and play?”

He shrugged, not even a little apologetic, enjoying the riffing as his feet rested against the coffee table filling the gap between you two. “Just sayin' loosen up. This isn’t a press conference. I mean, d'you even know how to slouch?”

You shot him a playful, mock-serious look, tucking a strand behind your ear as you leaned forward, your arms resting on your folded legs. “I can slouch.”

His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise, folding his arms over his chest. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes at him in a challenge. Slowly, way more dramatically than necessary, you leaned back in your chair, gently scooting down an inch on the chair, still keeping your legs crossed but allowing just enough of a slouch to break your normally perfect posture. You looked more uncomfortable than anything, your back now curved, while every other inch of your body remained proper.

Ben snorted, shaking his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Wowwww,” he said, barely holding back a laugh. “Look at you. A real rebel huh?”

You rolled your eyes, bringing yourself back up to sit properly, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not trying to impress you, you know.”

“Oh?” he cocked his head to the side like a puppy, his grin turning into something softer. “Too late. You already have.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you completely off guard. There was something about the way he said it, teasing, but with an undertone that made butterflies dance in your stomach and your skin buzz. You found yourself opening your mouth to respond, but just like the other attempts, nothing came out. You just stared at him, feeling completely disarmed by his effortless charm. He didn’t push, just grinned and waited, like he was used to leaving people speechless.

How much confidence could a guy have, and how could he play it off so casually that you don't even mind it?

And in that moment, there was no awkward silence, no need for formalities. Just easy, unexpected banter that flowed naturally and lingered in your mind for longer than you'd like to admit. It wasn’t what you’d expected from someone like Ben, but somehow, it felt right. He opened a side of you within a few conversations, a side that took years of coaxing from some of your closest friends. You couldn't even explain it, for everything you both were and were not, somehow ying and yang, a mountain and a streaming river, you were opposites and yet fit together like a landscape. He’d broken through your perfectly composed exterior, making you laugh and talk without even trying, and for some reason, you didn’t mind at all.

And now here you are, present day, strolling through an Australian mall at midday, looking the ever-polar opposites.

You strode in your knitted cardigan top and straight-leg pants while Ben towered over in a casual t-shirt and his signature stupidly short black shorts. Your arm was casually linked with Ben’s, your steps in sync like this was second nature. It wasn’t unusual for you two to walk like this; in fact, it would be strange if you didn’t. Over time as you both got to know each other, it had started as a joke but became a habit, something along the lines of Ben not wanting you to get "swept away by the crowds". You shared this easy closeness, the kind that people would easily mistake for a couple, but it was just the way you were.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourselves.

“Hey,” Ben’s voice interrupted your thoughts. You blinked, realising he was watching you, that knowing grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. His finger was pointing at a poster right beside a warm small shop.

“Didn’t you mention that necklace before on call a while ago? Wanna go in and have a look?”

You shook your head, brushing it off. “Oh, no, I was just-”

Before you could finish, he was already steering you toward the small store, his hand warm on your shoulder. “C’mon, just looking, right? Besides, you need to get somethin' while we're here. Not like you can't afford it.” He flashed you a wink that made your stomach flip.

The two of you stepped into the warm-lit shop, drawing a few amused glances from the few other customers and the shop assistant. It only really occurred just odd you two looked, Ben in his usual casual attire, slouched with his hands in his pockets, striding while examining the glass displays and you, neat and polished, hands folded and shy.

Ben leaned close, glancing over the cases as if he actually knew what he was looking at. “So you’re gonna match with me and get one of those silver chains, right?” He tugged at his thick metal chain with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “Yeah, Ben, because that would look so ‘me,’ right?”

He snorted. “What, scared of a little edge? Imagine the next headline: ‘Good Girl Gone Bad’ ”

“Or,” you retorted, arching a brow, “it could just read ‘WTA Pro Loses It With a Clear Cry for Help.’”

He chuckled, his laugh low and genuinely amused. But then his expression softened as he caught sight of the delicate rose-gold necklace you’d been admiring. “Alright, alright. Let’s see the one you’re actually into.”

You glanced at him, surprised he remembered the specific piece. And the next thing you knew, he had the case brought out by the sales assistant. The delicate rose gold chain necklace with its beautifully intricate pendant sat in front of you. It wasn't long before the cool metal met your fingers as you gently hauled it out from its bed and into your hands, your breath hitching as you studied it dozens of times, trying to engrave it into your memory. Before you could think twice, you broke your trance and handed it to him.

“Help me put it on?”

Ben’s brows shot up, but he didn’t hesitate. “Turning this into a whole trust exercise, huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, turning around and sweeping your hair aside.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice quiet with a flutter of nervousness.

Obediently, you turned, holding your hair up and out of the way, feeling his hands slip around to clasp the necklace at the back of your neck. His fingers brushed your skin, surprisingly gently, and suddenly it was hard to focus on anything else but the feel of his hands there. His fingers trembled ever so slightly, his large digits fiddling with the small dainty clasp. You couldn't help but feel hyper-aware of his touch as you let out a small gasp, only for you to hear; the way he just barely grazed your neck for fleeting milliseconds, how his breath was ghosting over your ear in steady, focused breaths, how his tongue stuck out ever so slightly as he focused, his eyes honed in on getting this one thing right just for you - it was far too much.

You swallowed, realising this was the first time he’d ever been this close in this way, this… tender. A part of you wanted to step forward, break the tension, take the necklace and put it on yourself, the burning, buzzing sensation being oh so overwhelming to the point where it felt you might evaporate on this spot, right here right now. But realistically even if you really wanted to, you couldn't force or make yourself move, the feeling was like a drug, coursing through you and this was your euphoria, your high, something you hadn't felt in a long time, or maybe ever and you had no intention of cutting it short.

You gently bring your gaze up from your shoes, to the mirror and stare at him, running your eyes over his face. It's just a necklace, he's just helping you, c'mon get it together!

“There,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and you felt the clasp fall onto your skin. But he didn’t step back right away. His fingers trailed down, skimming the nape of your neck, and for a second you thought - no, you knew - he was about to say something else, he took a sharp intake but then hesitated and remained in his silence. You look up in the mirror, seeing him still staring at your neck, and your hair, slowly meeting your eyes in the mirror before he realises he's been caught. He stepped back, his familiar grin slipping back into place, and the moment passed like a puff of smoke.

“How does it look?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, breaking free from the dizzy haze you've created in your head.

“Looks good,” he said lightly, and you hated the way your heart twisted at the easy casualness of his tone. He flashed you that infuriating smile, the one that made you both want to slap him and pull him closer at the same time.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice tight, almost irritated that you felt this intense pull that didn't seem to affect him nearly as much as it affected you. “Thanks.”

Your hand delicately took the pendant between your fingers, toying with it as you both stared at each other in the mirror entranced for a few moments, something shifting. You turned back to the display, focusing hard on the jewellery cases even though you could still feel the phantom warmth of his hands on your skin. You forced yourself to breathe evenly, to ignore the way your heart was racing, to pretend like everything was fine.

But as you looked at your reflection in the store’s mirror, the delicate gold resting against your collarbone, you couldn’t help but wonder if he knew, if he could feel it, too. The slow, insidious shift between you, the way everything had started to mean something when it was supposed to mean nothing at all. It wasn't the first time that Ben had done or said something that froze you, but it seems as though every encounter grows in its intensity, and worse, builds more confusion and haze inside of you.

“Guess that means you’re getting it, right?”

You gave him a shy smile breaking from your thoughts, turning around on your heel, still feeling the heat lingering on your neck. “I… think I might.”

As you admired the necklace in your hands, Ben flashed you a grin and excused himself, slipping off towards the main counter. You assumed he was just idly browsing or looking for something to keep him occupied while you made your decision. But when you turned to check on him, you saw him whispering something to the cashier, glancing over at you with a suspiciously wide grin.

You squinted, realising too late what he was up to. Just as you started toward him, the assistant who’d been helping you gently tapped your shoulder.

“Miss?” she said, her voice sweet but carefully practised. “We actually just got a similar collection of rose-gold necklaces in. You might want to take a look.”

You shot her a polite smile, still watching Ben out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, I think I’ve found the one-”

But Ben was already flashing his card to the cashier, sending you a playful wink and sticking his tongue out between his smile, before your assistant intercepted you again with a dazzling necklace display. By the time you returned to the counter, Ben was leaning casually, arms crossed, the structured paper bag already in his hand.

“Ben!” you hissed, reaching for it.

He laughed, holding it just out of your reach as he leaned in, his grin bordering on smug. “You don’t remember mentionin’ it twice, right?” he drawled, dripping with his usual playful tone, the same one that had you engaged from the day you first met. “Couldn’t risk lettin’ ya walk away from somethin’ you actually like.”

You smacked his arm lightly, only making him laugh more as he ducked away, looping his arm casually around your waist to draw you into a side hug. The warmth of his touch lingered, his hand resting comfortably at your hip. It was the sort of touch that should’ve felt natural by now, but somehow, it left you flustered. He was supposed to be the loud, obnoxious friend who made everyone laugh. So why did it feel like every touch, every sideways glance in your direction, especially today, held a weight that left you breathless? You hated that it was him, the one person you thought you’d never lose your cool around, who could make your composure slip so effortlessly.

“Don’t go gettin’ all mad,” he said, that easy grin still in place, his accent softening in a way that had your stomach fluttering. “It’s just a little token of your winnin's.”

You mumbled something about unfair tactics, even as your hand settled into his. He finally laughed, still holding your bag and chuckling as he looked around the mall. His gaze landed on a clothing shop just ahead, and his face lit up.

“Alright, you got your shiny new necklace. Now you’re helpin’ me pick out a hoodie,” he said, giving you a grin that could only be described as downright cocky. “Let’s see if I can look half as put together as you.”

“Fine,” you replied, barely suppressing a smile, “but don't expect me to return the payment favour, that's on you.”

Ben just laughed, letting you walk in first before he strolled in behind you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Once inside, Ben beelined for the hoodies, pulling out everything he could get his hands on without checking the tags or sizes. He held up a dark blue one with a shrug, grinning as he tossed it in your direction. “This one’s a classic, right? Nice and oversized?”

“Ben,” you said, giving him an exasperated look as you held the fabric up, it's nowhere near his size, way too small. “This wouldn’t even fit you like a sleeve. This would be a corset for you. Besides, since when do you need an oversized anything?”

He chuckled, looking down at his broad shoulders and long frame. “Point taken. Let’s see, you’re gonna have to help me find somethin’… refined. Like me.”

You rolled your eyes, but reached for a khaki cream-coloured hoodie, holding it up in front of him. “This one’s got ‘actually dressed himself’ written all over it.”

Ben took it from you and pulled it over his head without bothering to even look for the changing rooms, letting it settle over his broad shoulders and across his arms, the fabric fitting perfectly. He adjusted the sleeves, smoothing out a crease as he caught your eye with a playful smirk.

“So, how do I look? All cleaned up, or just half?”

You stepped closer, straightening the hood and smoothing the fabric across his chest and shoulders. “Not bad,” you said, nodding approvingly. “Maybe the best-dressed you’ve ever been for casual attire.”

Ben cleared his throat, a small blush creeping up his neck before he made a funny face at you and pushed your face away with his palm, making you laugh. You reached up and tugged the hood down over his face in response. “Stop it! Do you ever act normal?”

From underneath the hood, his face was hidden but the smile in his tone gave him away. “Normal? C’mon, that doesn’t sound like me at all.”

He yanked the hood off, reaching for another hoodie, examining a grey one this time. He pulled the cream hoodie up over his head, and just as he tugged it up, you realised his T-shirt was trying to come with it. Without thinking, you reached over and tugged his shirt back down, cheeks warming as he slipped into the hoodie with a cheeky grin.

“Good save,” he said, finally adjusting the fit with a little salute. “Now I really gotta make you my official stylist.”

“Oh, if it means I get to stop you from embarrassing yourself in public, I’ll do it,” you replied with a grin.

Ben just rolled his eyes sassily as he watched you inspect the look as he pulled the grey one on. “Don’t go givin’ me too many compliments now. Might go straight to my head.”

You laughed, giving his chest a final pat. “I’d say we’ve got it just right.”

After a long day of shopping and conversing together, the last thing you needed was more conversation, you couldn't wait to take yourself to your hotel room and sink in everything that had happened and everything that had been felt. As you took your small bags from Ben's hands you stood in the elevator, engrossed in the gossip Ben was subjecting you to, something to do with car dealers. Somewhere along the way, Ben had even pressed the button to your floor himself.

By the time you unlocked your door, it was almost automatic; you turned to face him, assuming he’d say goodbye and let you get some rest. But he strolled right in, still mid-sentence, as if he had every right to be there. You stood in the doorframe, breaking your smile and shaking your head, mouth agape as you realised what just happened.

“Ben... did you just follow me into my hotel room?” you asked, crossing your arms as you watched him plop down on your bed like he owned the place.

“Pfft,” he scoffed, “don’t flatter yourself. You ain’t got nothin’ in here worth followin’ you for - ‘cept maybe more of that wild fashion sense you got.” He shot you a teasing grin, his eyes flicking over to the small shopping bags you’d set down on the dresser.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re a fashion critic too? I didn’t hear you complaining when I helped you pick out those hoodies.”

He laughed, that easy, familiar sound filling the room, and leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. But I still think you coulda gone a little crazier. All that walking around and y' bought tiny, little things like that necklace. Real tame, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smile. “It’s called being tasteful, Ben. Not everyone can rock 'big and bold' like you.”

He gave you a mock-offended look, his drawl growing thicker. “Well, we can’t all be boring, now can we, darlin'?”

You felt a flicker of something under his words - the teasing words hung in the air longer than you expected, and you felt a jolt of something, nothing you could name, but enough to make you look away first, pretending to busy yourself with the bags again as you cleared your throat.

“Right,” you said, voice light, “because you’re the definition of exciting. The guy who almost bought a novelty koala mug for fifty bucks.”

“Hey, c'mon now, that mug was a steal,” he shot back, eyes glinting with amusement. “And besides, who’s gonna stop me? You?”

You giggled softly, flopping down beside him on your stomach, your elbow brushing the bedspread as you kept a careful inch of space between you. The gap between you felt electric, buzzing with that familiar charge you both pretended not to notice. “I already did, remember? I’ve saved you so many times from a lifetime of tacky souvenirs. You’d be drowning in cheap tourist mugs if it weren’t for me.”

Ben’s face softened, his smirk fading into something almost thoughtful as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. “Guess I owe you, then,” he said quietly, his tone lower, like he was sharing a secret.

The room seemed to hold its breath, and you swore the sunlight dimmed just a little, softening the angles of his face. For a heartbeat, you thought he was going to say something more, something that would change everything between you. You caught the scent of his cologne, warm and fresh with a hint of spice, and your eyes flickered down to his lips, wondering if he’d noticed the way you’d frozen like a deer in headlights, caught between teasing and leaning in, unsure if you were daring him or daring yourself.

His gaze dropped, almost imperceptibly, to where your fingers played with the loose thread on the edge of the bedspread, and it was like he saw right through you. The air crackled, the tension stretching out like a taut string, ready to snap making you feel all sorts of woozy. You knew if you moved, if you even breathed too deeply, it would shatter whatever fragile moment this was. He was watching you so closely, noticing everything, the angle of your face, the way your hair fell, the way your breath caught just a little too fast, the tiny smile you couldn’t quite hide.

And then he grinned as he caught your smile; a lazy, crooked grin that made your heart skip. The vulnerability in his eyes flickered and was gone, hidden behind that familiar playful charm. It was safer that way, easier to laugh it off than to admit there might be something real between you.

You nudged him gently with your shoulder, letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, aching from the sincere moment but almost glad it passed. Almost.

“You definitely do,” you said, your voice deliberately light.

Ben chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound that made you feel both safe and entirely off-balance. “Deal, you got it. How about some snacks? But, if I’m buyin’, you can’t go pullin’ that health-nut stuff on me. It’s gotta be a proper snack run, none of your boring, practical choices.”

“Oh, I’m so there,” you replied, half laughing, half trying to mask the flush that was still heating your cheeks. “Just don’t get all whiny if I veto your terrible taste.”

He sat up, giving you a mockingly serious look, his expression exaggeratedly grave. “Whiny? I don’t whine. I’m just... persuasive.”

“Sure you are,” you teased, feeling the tension still lingering about in the air.

You reached out to push his shoulder playfully, but he was faster. His hand caught yours, fingers curling around yours in a way that sent a spark racing up your arm. For a second, everything went still, the noise from the street outside faded, and the weight of the bed shifted beneath you, but all you could feel was the heat of his palm against yours.

It was Ben who let go first, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous spark. “9, don’t be late,” he said, pushing himself off the bed with a careless grin.

You watched him head for the door, your pulse still racing in your chest. “I’m never late,” you shot back, trying to sound unaffected despite the way your voice wavered, light and teasing.

He paused in the doorway, throwing a look over his shoulder, his eyes softer than usual, almost expectant. “We’ll see about that,” he said with a wink before disappearing into the hallway, leaving you staring at the closed door, still lying on the bed, with a strange, buzzing feeling beneath your skin. You couldn't help but feel the heat rise to your face, your hand on fire from the interaction as you stared around, dumbfounded from the passing moments.

Later that night, you headed to the hotel lobby, the low hum of late-night travellers and the clinking of glass doors filling the space. You spotted Ben before he saw you, leaning casually against a column in a purple hoodie, scrolling through his phone with a barely-there smile tugging at his lips.

He looked up the second the elevator doors opened, and whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t you in a simple top with the sleeves pushed up and cargo pants, like you were trying too hard to look like you weren’t trying at all.

His eyebrows lifted, a grin spreading slow and wide. “That’s what you’re wearin’?” he said, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

You scoffed, furrowing your brows, shoving your hands in your pockets before muttering, “Yeah... what’s wrong with it?”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the way they softened, something playful and gentle mingling with the mischief. Without saying a word, he dug into his bag and pulled out a well-worn hoodie, its cuffs fraying slightly and the colour slightly faded from too many washes. “Here,” he said, thrusting it at you. “You’re not goin’ anywhere with me like that.”

You gave him a long, unamused stare. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he shot back, voice dropping lower, teasing. “Don’t make me beg.”

You snatched the hoodie from him with a huff, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the fabric as you slipped it over your head. It was massive, swallowing you whole, the sleeves dangling well past your hands. You tugged at the cuffs, rolling them up clumsily and folding the bottom into your waistband so it didn't completely swallow you up as Ben watched with a satisfied smirk.

“Better,” he declared, like he’d personally fixed a crisis.

“Happy now?” you asked, your voice sharper than you’d intended, but you couldn’t help the way your heart picked up speed when he looked at you like that like you were more than just some friend he dragged along on a whim.

He just grinned and nodded. “Let’s go.”

The grocery store was nearly empty, the white-lit aisles stretching out like pathways to nowhere. The two of you wandered slowly at first, examining small differences side by side, until you found yourselves in the snack aisle, surrounded by walls of bright, neon packaging. Ben was in his element, zeroing in on the loudest, most ridiculous options like a kid in a candy store.

He plucked a bag of neon-orange chips from the shelf, shaking it lightly. “Alright,” he said, his tone suddenly all business, “What’s your stance on cheese puffs?”

You glanced at the bag and back at him, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not food, that’s...radioactive material. Nothing should be that orange.”

He gasped mouth agape before forming a pout, side-eyeing you. “Loud and wrong, but okay...”

You snatched the bag from his hand, tossing it into the cart anyway. “Fine. But we’re getting something that won’t kill us on the spot too.”

“Oh, here we go,” he groaned, watching as you added a box of granola bars to the mix with a self-satisfied smile. He shook his head, grabbing the cart handle and steering it down the aisle with a flourish.

“You’re no fun.”

“Somebody has to be the adult,” you said lightly, your shoulder brushing his as you walked.

The cart squeaked slightly as you rounded the corner, stopping to examine a box and before you knew it, Ben had snuck up behind you, his hands on your waist, lifting you off the floor in one swift movement. You barely had time to react before he dropped you, albeit with a slightly abrupt drop, laughing into the cart like it was the most natural thing in the world. You gasped, grabbing at the edges of the cart to steady yourself as he pushed forward, his laughter echoing off the empty shelves.

“Ben, what are you doing?” you demanded, half-exasperated, half-laughing as the cart picked up speed.

“Shoppin’!” he said nonchalantly, his voice lilting with barely suppressed giggles. “What’s it look like?”

You tried to glare at him, but the sound of his laughter, the way he moved so easily beside you, pulling you into his orbit, made it impossible to be mad. He flipped the hood over your face without warning, almost like payback from your antics earlier and you yelped, fumbling to throw it off your face as he made a dramatic show of spinning the cart around in circles in a wide arc, as if he were doing doughnuts in his car, laughing as you swayed and clung to the sides.

“Ben, you’re insane!” you shouted, but it came out more like a giggle, and you knew he’d hear it for what it was; a thrill you couldn’t quite hide.

“Yeah, but you love it!” he shot back, slowing the cart and landing it to face him, just enough to meet your eyes, the world narrowing down to the space between you. His smile was softer now, more intimate like he’d forgotten you were in a brightly lit grocery store at all.

For a second, you forgot too. Forgot about the shelves stacked high with candy and cereal, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead as your world came back from spinning and went straight into those puppy-dog brown eyes that always invited you so warmly. It was just him, and the warmth in him, the way he was looking at you like he could see straight through all the walls you’d built up.

Then he blinked, breaking the moment, and you cleared your throat, holding your sides tighter like it was armour. “C’mon,” you said, your voice a little too casual. “We still need to get some popcorn.”

His smirk returned a flash of teeth and mischief. “Only if I get to pick.”

“Fine,” you said, hopping out of the cart in a not-so-gracious way, almost tripping and falling over before you found your feet, while he squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a laugh. You ignored him and nudged him aside as you led the way, leaving him and the cart behind. “We’re not getting any of that sugar-loaded nonsense.”

“Deal,” he said easily, falling back into step beside you, close enough that his arm brushed yours with every step as he leaned onto the shopping cart's handle. It was comfortable, this back-and-forth, like a dance you’d both practised without realising.

The rest of the trip was a blur of bright colours and easy laughter, you vetoing his most ridiculous choices and him sneaking them into the cart when he thought you weren’t looking. There was something electric in the air, a charge that made you feel light and breathless. Every time your eyes met, it was like the world shrunk just a little more, leaving just the two of you standing there, suspended in a moment that neither of you wanted to end.

By the time you left, the night air was cool and crisp, and the city lights blurred into a haze of gold and blue. You carried your small, modest box of granola bars easily while Ben lugged a full backpack and a crinkling, overstuffed plastic bag of brightly coloured chaos, bumping your shoulder with his as you walked.

“Y’know,” he began, adding a lazy warmth to the night air, “if you think for one second that’s the last time I’m gonna put you in a cart, you’re wrong.”

You huffed out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Oh yeah? You're planning on carrying me around as part of your personal grocery haul from now on?”

He shot you a playful grin, his smile wide and easy. “Might just make it a habit. You fit in there pretty nice.”

Rolling your eyes, you bumped his arm with yours, but the warmth lingered longer than you expected. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

“Hey, I don't hear nobody complainin’ ‘bout bein’ chauffeured around,” he shot back, his eyes glimmering in the low streetlights. “And don’t pretend you didn’t love it. Saw you smilin’ the whole way.”

You tried to hide your grin, biting down on your lip. “I was not smiling.”

“Sure you weren’t,” he said, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl, and you knew he saw right through you. He always did, with that irritating, endearing way of his.

He kept walking, and you fell into an easy stride beside him, the silence that stretched out feeling warm, and comfortable, the kind that made you feel like you didn’t need to fill it with words.

As you cross the street, your fingers accidentally brush his for a split second, and you both tense up, the smallest contact sparking between you like static. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he shot you a quick, almost shy smile before looking up at the half-lit sky.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said suddenly as if the thought had just hit him. “There’s this café I saw online, right? Said they’ve got the best breakfast sandwiches in Australia. And it's like, a 15-minute walk from the hotel.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah? And what, you’re planning to drag me out of bed before dawn just to try a sandwich?”

“Exactly! You read my mind!” he yelped excitedly without missing a beat, clearly not hearing your sarcasm. “We’ll beat the crowd! No lines, best seat in the house. Plus,” he added with a wink, “you look like you could use a proper breakfast after that grocery store workout.”

You gave him a sceptical look, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. But if it’s some overhyped, greasy thing, you owe me.”

“I’ll take that bet,” he said, flashing that confident grin that made it impossible to say no. The walk back to the hotel was quieter, the playful back-and-forth giving way to a comfortable, unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to break. After many attempts at trying to close the door on Ben only to be interrupted by "Wait, one last thing before I go"'s and many, many awful jokes, you finally found yourself drained as you collapsed onto your bed. You quickly set a reminder for his ridiculous plan, and a dreadful 5am alarm was made, leaving you with not nearly enough time to rest after the day's antics.

The alarm dragged you out of a deep sleep way too soon, feeling like you had just fallen into slumber. You groaned, fumbling to silence it, barely managing to swing your legs over the side of the bed before realising you were still wrapped in Ben’s hoodie, the fabric heavy and warm, smelling of cologne and well, him. Blinking blearily, you forced yourself to move, your mind foggy with sleep, the hotel room still wrapped in low shadow. The chill of the early hour made you pull the hoodie tighter around yourself, the soft material a comfort against the cold.

When you finally stumbled downstairs to the lobby, he was already there, leaning casually against the doorframe, one hand shoved into his pocket, the other holding a steaming ceramic cup of coffee. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, and you noticed the way his eyes went wide for a second before he quickly masked it with a crooked smile. His hair was messy, and he looked like he hadn’t been awake for long, but the sight of him made your chest feel oddly light. You were still half-asleep, your hair barely brushed, eyes slightly open, and wearing his hoodie like it was a shield against the early morning chill.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he said, his voice rough and deep with sleep, the sound of it washing over you like a warm wave. There was a hitch in his tone, something unsteady and unguarded, and it made your stomach flutter in a way you couldn’t quite explain. "You look... cozy."

You tried to rub the sleep from your eyes, barely registering his words. “What?” you mumbled, blinking up at him.

The lights in the lobby were harsh, making you squint, and you fumbled with the hood, pushing it back slightly. Your fingers felt clumsy, too heavy, and you knew you looked a mess. No makeup, hair lazily brushed, the sleeves of his hoodie falling over your hands like a second blanket.

His gaze lingered, and he cleared his throat, glancing away quickly like he’d seen something he shouldn’t. “I, uh... you’re wearin’ my hoodie,” he said, a slow smile tugging at his lips despite the awkwardness in his voice.

“Didn’t think you’d be, y’know, sleepin’ in it.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you shrugged, still too groggy to care much. “It’s comfortable,” you muttered, your voice muffled with sleep. “I just… forgot to take it off.”

He was quiet for a beat too long like he was turning your words over in his mind, and you noticed the way he was looking at you, really looking, like he was seeing something he hadn’t expected. You wanted to say something, to break the strange heaviness of the moment, but your brain felt slow and thick with exhaustion, and all you could do was yawn and shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer, a bit hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should keep pushing. His eyes were bright despite the early hour, lingering on the way his hoodie hung loose on your frame, the oversized fabric almost swallowing you. “Well, it... looks good on you. Real good.”

You ducked your head, a sleepy laugh escaping your lips, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at his words. “I’m sure it does, c'mon let's get going if we want to beat the queue or whatever,” you teased, though there was no bite behind it. You didn’t have the energy for anything but honesty, and you were still caught up in the warmth of his hoodie, the way it felt like a shield against the morning chill.

His grin softened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly self-conscious. “Nah, I mean it,” he said, his drawl slow and unsteady. “Didn’t know you’d make my old thing look that good.”

You shrugged again, feeling your face flush as you ducked your chin deeper into the collar of the hoodie. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes still half-closed, struggling to focus in the dim lighting.

“Yeah, you should,” he said, the words coming out a little too fast like he couldn’t quite control the way they slipped out. He was still watching you, his gaze almost tender, his usual confidence faltering in the face of your sleepy vulnerability.

You felt an odd sensation bloom in your chest. Something soft and unsteady, and you weren’t sure if it was the early hour, his deep, sleep-rough voice, or the way he couldn’t seem to look away from you. You fumbled to roll up the too-long sleeves, your fingers barely managing to fold the fabric back, and Ben’s gaze followed the movement, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite name.

He hesitated, then stepped closer, his movements careful and unhurried, like he was testing the boundaries of whatever this was between you. He lifted his coffee cup, its warmth radiating outwards as he held it just inches from your face. “Here,” he offered his voice still that deep morning rumble that made your stomach twist. “You look like you could use this more than I do.”

Ben handed you the mug, and as you took a sip, your fingers barely brushed his, such a small, fleeting touch that it might as well have been an accident. But the warmth of it lingered, and Ben’s eyes, still sleepy but more awake than yours, didn’t stray from your face. You were too groggy to notice as you took a deep gulp of the warm coffee. It was rich and comforting, exactly what you needed to get moving, and you barely caught the way Ben's gaze softened as you closed your eyes and sighed contentedly.

You held the mug back out to him, half-smiling as you blinked against the morning light spilling through the windows. “Okay, I'll admit, it’s good,” you admitted, handing it over with a sleepy grin.

Ben grinned back, his tone suddenly lighter as he accepted the mug again. “Mhm, damn right,” his drawl thick in the early hour, the kind that always made you feel just a bit more awake than you were ready for. His voice was deep, still rough from sleep, and you felt a strange flutter at the sound of it, so different from his usual light-hearted teasing. He looked like he wanted to add something further, but instead, he raised the mug to his lips, pausing for the briefest moment before taking a sip from the exact spot where your mouth had just been.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, his voice a little rough, almost hesitant, and you nodded, letting him lead the way out into the slowly illuminating streets.

The walk to the café was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet now, one that felt heavy with things left unsaid, with the strange intimacy of the moment lingering between you like a secret. Your footsteps echoed against the pavement, and you felt more awake with each step, the chilly air biting at your face and the faint light from the rising sun glinting off the windows above. Ben was walking a little too close, his arm brushing yours every now and then, and you noticed the way he kept sneaking glances at you as if he was trying to memorise every detail, the way his hoodie pooled around your hips, the faint shadow of sleep still lingering in your eyes and on your pouted lips, the way you hadn’t bothered to fix your hair or hide the bare honesty of your face.

“Don't think I’ve ever seen you this early before,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence, low and rumbling like distant thunder. “No makeup, no fancy clothes. Just... I don't know, man, just you.”

You looked up at him, squinting a little against the first light of dawn, and tried to muster up some kind of retort, but all you could manage was a half-hearted, sleepy smile. “Disappointed?” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not even a little,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice hit you like a punch to the gut. He smiled, the edges of his mouth curling up in that familiar way that made your heart skip, and you found yourself smiling back without even realising it, feeling lighter and warmer than you had in a long time.

The two of you arrived at the café, footsteps slowing as you got closer. But when you reached the door, your heart sank. Not a single person lined up. The café was dark, the interior shrouded in shadows, and there, taped to the inside of the window, was a handwritten sign that read: Closed. Opens at 7 AM.

You blinked at it, still half-asleep, your shoulders slumping as disappointment settled in. “Ben,” you dragged a hand over your face before narrowing your eyes at him, “you’re telling me I could’ve slept for two more hours? I thought it'd be open sooner!”

“Hey, who needs sleep?” he said, shrugging without a hint of regret. He gestured to the empty curb across the street with a grin. “C’mon. Let’s sit it out. I’ll make the time fly right by.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Despite the chill in the early-morning air, you settled beside him on the curb, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you rested your chin atop your knees. The street was quiet in the way only early morning can be, just the two of you and the distant hum of a waking city.

Ben stretched his long legs out in front of him like he owned the street. There was something so easy about sitting there with him in the silence, the air crisp and the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. You watched the horizon, focusing on the deepening shades of indigo and pale gold, the familiar comfort of the city awakening inch by inch. It was strange how easy it was to be around him, how your guard dropped without you even noticing. His presence was effortless, and the way his eyes rested on you every now and then, like you were someone worth seeing, made you feel something you didn’t quite want to name yet.

“You know,” he murmured, a hint of his usual humour in his tone, “you’re not half bad at relaxin’ after all.”

You shot him a soft glare, lips twitching. “Are you trying to say I’m fun?”

“Hmm...I’d say a little more than fun,” he replied, his smile widening. “But let’s just leave it at that for now. At least no one’s in line, so we’ll get the best seat in the house when they do open” He glanced over to you as he leaned back on his palms.

You chuckled, glancing at the empty street. The entire street was silent, just the two of you in the quiet stillness of dawn. You relaxed a little, sinking further into the oversized hoodie that smelled like him, comforting and familiar.

After a while, he nudged you with his shoulder, his eyes up to the sky but his voice low. “You ever notice how I always seem to get you roped into these side quests of mine?” he asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Errands, random snack runs, you name it.”

You shot him a sideways glance, fighting back a smirk. “Oh, I’ve noticed. You have a knack for it, Ben. You’re lucky I can keep up. You nominated me for laundry duty last week too.”

He let his head back with a laugh. “Well, you’re good at it.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to help the smile that pulled at your lips. “Or maybe you’re just lazy.”

“Nah, it’s ‘cause you’re the only person who’ll actually come along for the ride,” he admitted, his gaze settling on you with a softness that made your heart skip. “Anyway… why don’t you ever bring a boyfriend along on one of these little errands? Not like you're short on admirers.”

His question caught you off guard, and you looked away, staring out at the sunrise as your thoughts turned inward. It was a topic you rarely touched, one you hadn’t even realised you’d been avoiding until now.“I don’t know,” you said softly, your voice distant and hesitant. “I guess, maybe… it’s just easier this way?”

“No one special you’re hiding from me, huh?” Ben’s tone was gentle, almost teasing, but his eyes held a genuine curiosity. He wanted to understand.

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. This was a part of yourself you rarely shared, a shadow you’d kept hidden for a long time. But the stillness of the morning and the warmth in his gaze tugged at something deep inside. “There was someone,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “A while ago.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched you, the usual teasing gone, replaced by quiet patience.

“He... he liked that I had my life together, y'know? Like I was this 'go-getter,' always calm and composed,” you said, slowly letting the words surface. “Or at least, that’s what he told me. He said he liked that I wasn’t flashy and that I didn’t draw too much attention to myself. I think he appreciated my quiet confidence, and how I could go with the flow. Looking back, I think it was because he thought it made me easier to control...” You let out a short, hollow laugh that didn’t reach your eyes.

“I didn’t even realise when things shifted,” you continued, voice more firm now. “When he went from showing genuine interest to making all the decisions. It must've been gradual, but it felt like it just happened one day; I don’t know when it started. Suddenly, he was calling all the shots, and I thought I was just being a good partner. Compromising. Making space for him. Letting him be himself. But I didn’t see that, bit by bit, I was putting myself away.”

Ben’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, his attention urging you to go on.

“He’d ignore my texts for hours, sometimes days, and then act like I was overreacting when I brought it up. But God forbid I missed one of his calls during training or when I was away on tour. If I couldn’t stay up late to talk, he’d make it into a huge deal. We’d set times to call, but he’d never follow through—and always with some lame excuse.”

You paused, drawing a deep breath, eyes fixed on a point in the distance.

“And then there were the arguments,” you said, voice tightening. “About the most impossible things—like how I didn’t spend enough time with him. How could I when I was half a world away? Or how my career always came first. He said I was boring, that I wasn’t spontaneous enough. But whenever I tried to change, there was always something else wrong. No matter what I did, it was never enough.”

Ben’s expression darkened, a flicker of frustration tightening the corners of his mouth. His hand was on the curb next to yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin—grounding you.

“Maybe he was jealous,” you said, the words almost to yourself. “That’s what my mom said. Jealous of my success, or of the fact that I had something I loved that wasn’t about him. He knew exactly how to make me feel small. Every victory, every career milestone, he’d twist it, make me feel like I was failing him. Like I was always letting him down. I thought... if I could just balance it all if I could make him happy, he’d love me the way I needed. But honestly? I don’t even know what I needed anymore, not when he was the one telling me how to feel.”

You swallowed, the bitterness of those memories heavy on your tongue.

“No matter how much I shifted or tried to be the girl he wanted, it was never enough. There was always another criticism, another reason why I wasn’t good enough. I was too selfish, too focused on my career, too indecisive, too... everything. And I believed him. I thought I was the problem. That I just couldn’t make him happy.”

A light breeze swept through the street, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your knees close as if to shield yourself from the weight of those memories.

“He was... God, Ben, you should've heard him. He was so relentless when he wanted to be. It felt like every part of my life was under a microscope, every single decision, every single choice; it was all wrong. All the things I loved, the things that made me proud, they just started to fade away, like they’d been drained of colour.”

Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on, finding strength in the words you’d never fully voiced before.

“I started to lose myself in a spiral. Everything felt so ... grey, so heavy like I was wading through water. I thought... isn’t this what relationships are? Compromise, sacrifice, working through the rough patches? That’s what I kept telling myself. I thought if I just tried harder, if I carried the weight for both of us, then maybe he’d be happy again, like how he was in the beginning. But I started wondering if I was even cut out for love. I mean, what does it even mean to love someone, really? All I knew was that I kept losing myself in the process, and it still wasn’t nearly enough.”

You exhaled, as the quiet of the morning felt almost too peaceful, the faint chirping of birds contrasting with the heaviness of what you were saying.

“And then he cheated,” you continued, your voice flat. “When I found out, he didn’t even try to deny it. He just looked at me, fatigued, and was like, ‘What did you expect with the way you treat me? Don’t be so naive.’ But you know what?”

You paused, a strange light creeping into your voice.

“It was almost a relief. Him cheating... it was my way out. For the first time, I had a solid, undeniable reason to leave. I didn’t have to keep convincing myself that I needed to try harder, or that it was all my fault.”

Your voice softened, carrying vulnerability.

“I don’t even know if I ever really loved him, or maybe, I don't know how to love. Maybe I just loved the idea of being loved or being enough for someone. But the truth is, I don’t think I even know what love is supposed to feel like. I gave everything I had, and it still wasn’t right, I felt so drained like a vampire had me. Maybe I’ve never felt real love, or maybe... maybe I’m just not meant for it.”

Ben’s silence was heavy beside you, his gaze unwavering, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. The shame and rawness of your words made your throat tighten, but you kept going.

“I stayed until I had nothing left to give until I got cheated on, and even then, I couldn’t tell you why. It was like I was trying to win a game I didn’t even understand. And in the end, I realised... I never even had him, not truly. I was always chasing something that wasn’t there. It was always a losing game, and I was the only one playing.”

Ben’s gaze was steady, the weight of your words hanging between you. Then he spoke, his tone warm and sincere. “You don’t deserve someone treating you like that. Not ever. I-"

He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before he continued.

"I can’t even imagine doin' that to you. You’re more than enough, you always have been. You don’t need to change a single thing for anyone. Man, I like you just the way you are because I know you, and I know you’re worth so much more than what you settled for with that dick.”

A tear slid down your cheek, carrying all the hurt you’d kept buried for so long. You weren’t crying, not really, but his words had found their way past all your defences, and something inside you softened and broke open.

“Do you really mean that?” you asked, your voice small, almost scared, your eyes searching his.

Ben’s eyes locked onto yours, and something in his expression shifted. For a moment, he seemed almost stunned, his face softening, his features melting with a tenderness that made it hard to breathe. He reached out slowly to cup your face with his hand, as if afraid you might pull away, and when you didn’t, he gently wiped the tear from your cheek. His fingers lingered, brushing against your skin with a touch so careful it made your heart ache.

“I mean every word,” he said, his voice low and steady, barely more than a whisper. “I see you, Y/N. I’ve always seen you.”

His words hit you like a wave, and the tears came faster, though still silent. Ben’s expression softened even further, and he pulled you into him without hesitation, wrapping a strong arm around you, and holding you close. You pressed your face into his shoulder, feeling the warmth and solid comfort of him, and slowly, you let yourself sink into his embrace. He didn’t speak, just rubbed your back in gentle circles, his chin resting on top of your head.

After minutes had passed when the tightness in your chest had started to fade and the early morning warmth grew warmer, you felt him smile against your hair. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, and he said with a playful grin, “If this is all it takes to get a hug outta you, I should’ve asked sooner.”

You couldn’t help it, you let out a small, breathy laugh, rolling your eyes even as you stayed close to him, nestling your head before you lifted it up.

“Oh, shut up,” you said, smacking his shoulder lightly. “If I knew you were gonna use emotional blackmail for free hugs, I would’ve kept my distance.”

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting, and the warmth of the moment settled between you. You pulled away, wiping your face with the oversized sleeves of his old hoodie, the one that had become yours. The quiet returned, peaceful now, the sun creeping higher in the sky and washing everything in shades of soft orange and pink.

You sat together in silence, shoulder to shoulder, the pain slowly ebbing away as the world woke up around you. There was something different between you now, a shift that neither of you said out loud but both of you felt. For the first time in a long time, you felt a weight lift, and you let yourself relax against him, the silence and small conversation comfortable as you felt relief and warmth flow through you.

By the time the café finally opened, you and Ben had spent two hours huddled together as the sun began to bathe you two, and sharing quiet laughter as the world slowly woke up around you. The anticipation of the legendary breakfast had both of you giddy and a little loopy from the early start, making the time fly by.

But when the doors swung open and you finally got your hands on the much-hyped breakfast sandwiches, reality hit. The sandwiches were mediocre, wayyy too salty and the coffee was disappointingly weak. The "famous" breakfast sandwiches that Ben’s TikTok video had promised would be life-changing were, frankly, a letdown. Yet, it didn’t matter at all.

The two of you slid into a corner booth, expecting to sit across from each other, but Ben surprised you by scooting in right beside you, his thigh pressing lightly against yours. He stretched his legs out under the table, claiming the whole space as his own. You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his warmth as you sipped your disappointing coffee.

“This is the most underwhelming breakfast I’ve ever had,” you said, crinkling your nose as you picked at the sandwich.

Ben chuckled, flashing you a mischievous grin. “Guess I owe you a better one, next time” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Damn right, you do,” you shot back with a smirk.

Ben’s arm rested casually over the back of the booth, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. Every small, careless touch, his knee nudging yours, his fingers grazing your hoodie, made it harder to ignore the fluttering in your chest. With each laugh and shared smile, you felt something shifting between you, something that made it impossible to see him as just a friend, especially after being so vulnerable earlier.

As the café started to fill with the morning crowd, you remained on the same side of the booth, your legs tangled comfortably under the table. There was an easy closeness between you now, a kind of unspoken understanding like you were sharing a secret that only the two of you knew. When he reached over to brush a crumb from your lip as you talked, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, you felt your cheeks heat and words stutter, but you didn’t pull away. The sun rose higher, streaming golden light through the café windows, and the warmth between you felt softer and more real than any disappointment over a bad breakfast. Ben’s presence was grounding, and for the first time in a very long time, you felt genuinely at ease, like the weight of your earlier conversation and all your own personal baggage had lessened, transformed into something lighter by his easy smile and gentle touch.

By the time you both decided to leave, you were still laughing over the overhyped “legendary” breakfast. As you stepped out onto the sun-drenched street, Ben’s hand slipped into yours with a light squeeze, like always, as if to say, I’m still here. I’ve got you. The simple gesture left your skin tingling, and your heart racing just a little faster.

You walked together down the slowly waking street back to the hotel, shoulder to shoulder, arms looped together, a warmth lingering between you that had nothing to do with the sunrise. The world around you was coming alive, but it felt like you were still living in that quiet, private space you'd created in the early morning hours, a small bubble of warmth and closeness that was just yours. Of course, it couldn't last long, not with training and matches coming up alongside personal commitments and whatever else, but having this quiet time together was more than rewarding.

As the café faded into the past, so did the warmth of those golden moments, but the echoes lingered. It wasn’t just the memory of his hand brushing yours or the way his laugh had chased away the lingering shadows of your conversation. It was the way he lingered, so effortlessly, so relentlessly, in the quiet spaces of your life.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him as your tour carried you to different cities. The way his hand had slipped into yours so naturally that morning replayed in your mind at the oddest times: during practice serves, mid-flight naps creeping into your peaceful dreams, even while unpacking yet another suitcase in yet another hotel room. It wasn’t like you wanted to be distracted, but Ben was everywhere, his presence stamped into your routine as if he’d always been part of it. And it seemed as though he had no intention of loosening that grip he had on your mind. Calls and messages were frequent as days blurred into one another, conversations that felt simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. Ones that'd have you squealing in bed as you reread over the texts or have you clutching your phone tight minutes after hanging up, savouring the small moments. The banter was still there, as effortless as it was grounding, but now it came with an undercurrent you couldn’t name, something unspoken threading its way through the pauses between your words. Ben became a comforting constant amid the chaos. He was always just a call or a text away, his presence a steady anchor even when everything else felt transient. And while you were grateful for the familiarity, it didn’t stop the butterflies that erupted every time his name lit up your phone.

Like tonight.

After a gruelling match and a hurried dinner that barely counted as a meal, you finally collapsed onto the hotel bed. The quiet of the room felt foreign after the noise of the day, but it was a relief until your phone buzzed on the nightstand. The call started with Ben’s face filling the screen, eyebrows raised and a smirk already in place.

“Hey, stranger,” he smiled in a sing-song tone.

“Oh, spare me,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself.

" 'Spare me?' ” Ben scoffed, kicking back and grinning at the screen. “Girl, you’re acting like you’re the only one with a rough schedule. What’ve you been up to? Post-match feast, or just a sad granola bar?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Neither. Quick and quiet dinner after the match, some bland pasta with a wilted salad, the usual. Real glamorous stuff.You already back to your hotel?”

“Hours ago,” he said. “Caught the highlights of your match, though. That backhand winner down the line? Chef’s kiss.” He mimed a dramatic kiss to the camera. “You’re out here stealing the show.”

“Please,” you said, rolling your eyes, and shrugging. “It wasn’t even my best match. I’ll take a win, though.”

“Don’t be modest,” Ben teased. “Meanwhile, my highlights reel was probably just me sweating buckets with my shirt clinging to me and yelling after missing a forehand.”

You smirked. “Nah, you’re too busy being ‘America’s tennis heartthrob.’ I’m sure your fangirls don’t even notice the double faults.”

Ben groaned, throwing his head back. “Not this again.”

“Oh, come on,” you grinned, teasing him. “Tall, built, All-American golden boy? I’m shocked they haven’t made you into a wax figure yet! ATP should get on that, the more I think about it.”

He leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “Is the golden boy charm working on you?”

You blinked, caught off guard, furrowing your brows. “What..? No. Shut up!”

Ben chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Hey, I was just checking. You're the one who brought it up.”

“Yeah, well…” you said, flustered, fumbling for a comeback. “I mean, I guess it’s a little funny. The way they’re all obsessed with you, I mean.”

He smirked. “Smooth save.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, looking away. “At least you’re not lonely on tour. You’ve got Bryan. Built-in travel buddy.”

Ben scrunched his face up. “Oh yeah, great idea! Let me just grab dinner with my dad after a match so he can spend two hours lecturing me about footwork and his ‘good ol’ days.’ ”

You laughed, before breaking into a pout. “Poor, poor Bryan. He just wants to hang out with his son, and you’re out here running from him.”

“I’m not running,” Ben said defensively. “I’m…um, strategically avoiding.”

“Sure you are.”

“And anyway, no one here’s like you,” he added, his tone casual but his gaze steady.

That caught you off guard. “Yeah-w-what?”

Ben’s smirk deepened. “Don’t choke now. Where’s that quick wit of yours?”

“Shut it,” you groaned, your face heating up as you pressed your face into the mattress.

“Aw, you’re blushing,” he teased, leaning closer to the camera. “Cat really got your tongue this time, huh?”

“Ben, I swear to God,” you said, groaning and burying your face in your hands and dropping the phone.

He laughed, clearly triumphant. “It’s okay, you’ll get me back at the charity doubles event in a few months. I’m counting on you to carry me.”

“Carry you?” you said, grateful for the change in topic. “I thought you were the unstoppable Ben Shelton. 'Big serves, big shots.’ "

“Yeah, yeah, but doubles is different,” he said with a shrug. “Doubles is all about teamwork. I’ll take your instructions. Like Federer and Mirka, except, y’know, cooler.”

You laughed. “Cooler? That’s a bold claim.”

“Why not?” he said, spreading his arms wide. “They’re classy, they’re unstoppable, and they look good doing it. That’s us, right? Total power couple energy.”

“Power couple?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“On the court,” he clarified with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it professional.”

“You’d better,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

As the call ended and the screen faded to black, you lingered in the quiet of your room, your pulse still racing in the aftermath of his teasing grin. Your fingers traced the necklace at your throat, the metal cool under your touch, but the memory it carried, the warmth of his hands, the way his eyes had softened when he fastened it, made your chest feel full and tight all at once.

You had to admit, Ben Shelton was infuriatingly good at leaving you in this liminal space, caught somewhere between wanting to roll your eyes and wanting to let yourself fall completely into whatever this was becoming.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the bed and rifled through your suitcase, finding his hoodie tucked neatly inside. It was a lifeline, an anchor to him when the distance felt like too much. The fabric was soft against your cheek as you hugged it to your chest, his scent faint but unmistakable, as if he were still there, filling the room with his easy laughter and ridiculous charm. It was almost maddening how easily he got under your skin, how his words lingered long after the call had ended, tangling themselves with your thoughts and leaving you guessing.

Was he just being Ben? The not-knowing was intoxicating in its own way, a thrill and torment that made your stomach flutter and your mind race long into the night until you could fall asleep, and even then, he graced your dreams with his warmth that you could never get enough of.

For Ben, the feelings weren’t any simpler. He leaned back against his hotel bed, the phone still warm in his hand, the smile he’d worn during the call refusing to fade. You always had this way of leaving him grinning like an idiot, proud of his one-liners that caught you off guard but tonight felt different. He loved catching you off guard, how you’d try to fire back some clever retort only to stammer and fall silent, just like the first time he met you. It wasn’t just funny to him; it was endearing, that quiet vulnerability you didn’t even seem to notice. And God, you were beautiful, even in that post-match haze, hair damp and face free of makeup, exhaustion softening your edges in a way that only made you look more real, more you. He wished he could've seen you in person; he could stare at you like that for hours and still turn back for a second glimpse, never getting enough.

He sighed, rolling onto his side as his fingers hovered over a photo on his camera roll, the one where you weren’t looking, too focused on a menu, brow furrowed like the decision was life or death, another one of you in his car, casually on your phone, followed by another photo and another. He couldn’t help it; his chest tightened at the memory of moments like that, the way you made the chaos of his life feel lighter. Then there were the little things: the protein bar with your teasing note that you threw in his bag during a practice one time, or the way you seemed to know exactly when to check in when you could read how he honestly was.

It scared him sometimes, how easily you crept into his thoughts, how much he wanted to be the reason you smiled the way you had tonight. And yet, even as the thought tightened in his chest, Ben smiled again, already counting down the days until he’d see you at the charity event, knowing it just couldn't come sooner.

The atmosphere at the event was electric, a blend of effortless fun and star-studded tennis. Neon lights pulsed along the edges of the court, casting playful shadows on the buzzing crowd as a DJ spun upbeat tracks that thrummed in your chest and made the ground pulse. It was far from a serious tournament, more like a party on a tennis court, where fans and players mingled, indulging in casual games and champagne-laced banter.

You smoothed down your navy skirt, the silky white bow in your hair fluttering lightly as you stepped into the tunnel, the buzz of conversation growing louder. A little blush, a sweep of mascara, and a touch of concealer made you look radiant but understated; the only jewellery you wore was the rose-gold necklace Ben had gotten you, gleaming softly against your collarbones under the venue’s lights.

“Ready to dazzle?” another player teased as she passed by, her racket slung lazily over her shoulder. You shot her a grin, zipping up your bag as you mentally prepared for the night ahead. But before you could take another step with your bag now slung over your arm, a hand wrapped gently around your wrist, tugging you back into the shadowed corner of the tunnel.

You turned quickly, your startled expression melting into a mixture of exasperation and amusement when you saw Ben. He was leaning against the wall, grinning like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“Subtle as always,” you teased, arching a brow, even as your chest tightened slightly at the sight of him. It had been months, and somehow, he looked the same but different, more confident, more composed, yet just as unmistakably Ben.

He tilted his head, his grin spreading slowly. “What can I say? I like to make an entrance.”

“By sneaking up on me?” you quipped, folding your arms but unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Better than yelling, don’t you think?” He pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his presence filling the space between you. For a moment, the noise of the crowd outside felt distant, the thrum of music fading into the background.

He let his eyes roam, taking in the bow in your hair and the soft gleam of the necklace he’d picked out weeks ago. “You look…” He trailed off, his voice softer now, tinged with something he wasn’t saying. “I mean, wow.”

You felt your cheeks flush, the warmth crawling up your neck as you shifted on your feet. “Don’t start, Shelton,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any conviction.

“What? It’s a compliment.” His tone dipped, quiet but teasing, as he leaned just enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne. “Guess I forgot how good you clean up...y'know while still bein' all proper.”

You tried for a quick, witty comeback, but the words stumbled and caught in your throat when his eyes met yours again, warm and intent. It was like he saw through the polished image you’d carefully put together for tonight, straight to the version of you he knew best: messy hair, sweat-soaked, exhausted after a match.

“Ben...” you started, voice faltering as he smiled.

“Missed this,” he murmured, stepping even closer as he studied your face, his gaze lingering on your lips. “Missed you.”

The simplicity of it hit harder than you expected, your breath catching as he pulled you into a tight hug without hesitation. His arms wrapped around you with a sure, steady strength that made your chest ache, one hand splayed against your upper back, the other resting lightly at your waist, rubbing up and down with his thumb. Your cheek pressed into his shoulder as you let yourself lean in, your arms slipping around him.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach him properly, your nose brushing the soft skin of his neck. He smelled faintly of cologne and something clean, and when he bent slightly to press his face against your hair, the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.

Neither of you said anything at first; the hug lingered just long enough to toe the line between friendly and something more.

“Alright, lovebirds,” a voice called from behind, breaking the moment. You glanced over to see Tommy Paul strolling by with a smirk, holding a tennis racket slung over one shoulder. “Save it for the courts.”

You pulled back quickly, a small laugh spilling out despite yourself. Ben groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Ignore him,” he muttered, his other hand still resting lightly on your waist.

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you looked up at him. “Guess I should’ve known you’d bring your fan club with you.”

Ben chuckled, his thumb brushing against your side before he let his hand drop. “They’re just jealous,” he teased. Then, his grin turned sharper, more mischievous. “Besides, you’re Mirka tonight, remember? That makes me Federer.”

You rolled your eyes, already turning back toward the tunnel’s exit. “Then let’s hope you’re half as good on the court as he is.”

His laugh followed you, rich and unbothered. “Careful, Mirka, I might just have to prove it to you out there.”

You smirked, stepping forward toward the light of the court. “Right. I'll see you out there, Federer.”

Ben chuckled low behind you, the sound carrying as he followed. “Better bring your A-game, Mirka.”

You both stepped into the event space, the pulse of music and hum of voices a vibrant backdrop. A waiter with a tray of champagne flutes passed by, and Ben grabbed two, handing you one. “For courage?” he teased, raising a brow.

“Or patience,” you countered with a cheeky smile, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. The bubbles tickled your throat, a pleasant warmth settling in your chest.

The two of you drifted toward the edge of the court, lingering for a moment to take in the scene. Fans were scattered around, some waving excitedly as they noticed you both, others engrossed in their own games. The energy in the air was contagious.

“You nervous?” Ben asked, glancing down at you, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned closer.

You scoffed lightly, tilting your head toward him. “Pfft, not even a little. You?”

“Only about carrying you,” he shot back with a teasing grin.

You laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that had him grinning even wider. “Big talk for someone who hasn’t even warmed up yet.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, taking a sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving yours. “Trust, I’m plenty warm now.”

The look he gave you was so direct, so warm, it sent a shiver down your spine. For a second, you almost forgot where you were, his gaze holding you in place. Then, with a soft laugh, you shook your head. “Careful, Shelton. I might start to think you’re flirting with me.”

“And if I am?” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

You didn’t answer, the sudden heat in your cheeks making you glance away. But Ben stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. “You’re kinda cute when you’re quiet, you know that?”

“I’m not quiet,” you retorted, though the slight stumble in your voice only made his grin deepen.

He shook his head before he got pulled into some conversation, the night stretching out with laughs. It wasn't long before it was your turn on the courts with Ben for mixed doubles with fans. The game was as lighthearted as the crowd’s energy, every point a mix of banter, champagne-fueled laughter, and effortless coordination between you and Ben. You didn’t know if it was the bubbly coursing through your veins or just the sheer ease of being around him, but the nerves that usually gripped you on a court had dissolved into something bolder, something exhilarating.

“Hey! Didn’t know you could slice like that,” Ben teased, coming up beside you after you returned a tricky serve with a clean, low shot. His grin was wide, boyish, and entirely too charming.

“Didn’t know you cared enough to notice,” you quipped back, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

His laugh was low, his eyes sparkling under the court lights. “Oh, I notice. Don’t worry about that.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away as he moved to stand closer, his shoulder brushing yours. A fan on the opposite side sent the ball flying long, and you let out a small cheer, reaching up for a high five. His palm smacked yours, but instead of letting go, his fingers lingered, curling slightly against yours to hold your hand in his big one as he leaned down just enough for only you to hear.

“Careful now,” he murmured, his voice dipping, his thumb grazing your palm. “Don’t make me think I need to keep you around full-time.”

Your stomach flipped, and you blinked up at him, thrown off by the sudden softness in his tone. “Keep up the compliments, Shelton, and I might start thinking you’re sweet.”

“I can be sweet,” he said, his grin turning a little cocky as he finally released your hand. “But only when you’re around.”

You were saved from having to respond by the start of the next point, though your heart was far too distracted to focus properly. Ben, however, didn’t seem fazed, his energy casual and relaxed as he sent a gentle lob to the next fan on the rotation. Between rallies, he wandered back to your side of the court, resting his hand briefly on the small of your back, rubbing it softly. The touch was fleeting, but it left a trail of warmth in its wake.

As you finished another easy point, Ben jogged toward you. “So, is this your strategy? Win them over with that slice and then charm me into doing all the work?”

You laughed, spinning your racket in your hand. “Oh, puh-lease. I’m doing most of the carrying here, Ben. Admit it, you’d be lost without me.”

“Lost? Nah.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping just a fraction. “Distracted? Definitely.”

Your breath caught, the weight of his gaze lingering longer than it should have. But before you could respond, another cheer from the crowd broke the moment. He stepped back, grinning as though he hadn’t just thrown your heart into overdrive.

By the end of the set, the champagne had smoothed the edges of your usual reserve, and the energy between you both crackled with something unspoken but undeniable. When you reached for another high-five after the final point, he caught your hand and tugged gently, pulling you just a step closer this time.

“We got a nice win,” he murmured, his eyes flicking down to yours.

“Mhm, and I got a nice partner,” you replied, the words falling out before you could think better of them.

His grin softened, his hand brushing lightly against your lower back again. “Careful. I might start thinking you’re trying to charm me.”

“And if I am?” you shot back, your eyes coy and big as your newfound confidence was fueled by the buzz in your veins and the way he was looking at you as if no one else in the world mattered.

Ben’s laughter was warm and rich, a blush spreading across his cheeks that wasn't just from the game. The way his eyes stayed locked on yours said everything. “Then I’d say it’s working.”

As the event wound down, you and Ben exchanged a few last high-fives with the fans. The laughter and excitement of the crowd hung in the air, but as the noise began to settle, there was a familiar, charged silence between you two. The playful teasing, the flirty glances, it was all still there, but now it had a weight to it as if the evening had somehow shifted to a different gear.

Ben caught up to you as you started to make your way toward the exit, his smile flashing as he fell into step beside you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, voice low and teasing. "Pizza? Just us? The rest are going to a restaurant downtown, but I thought we could hang out n' catch up."

You raised an eyebrow, the suggestion making your heart skip a beat. There was something about the idea of more time with him, just the two of you, that sent a rush through your chest. “Pizza?” you repeated, the buzz from the champagne still swirling inside you, but now mixing with a touch of curiosity. “After all that, you want to drag me to some random pizza joint?”

Ben grinned, his eyes full of mischief. "It's not random. It’s a little hidden gem, just a few blocks away. Trust me, it's worth it. You won’t find better pizza around here, Ben approved.”

You glanced at him, your internal struggle between teasing him and playing it cool warring inside you. There was something in the way he said it, an undeniable charm in his voice that made you want to go. The idea of quiet, easy conversation with him, without the crowd, the friends and the noise, felt too good to pass up.

"Alright, fine," you said, rolling your eyes but giving in. "But if this place turns out to be some dive with soggy crust, I’m blaming you.”

Ben laughed, his grin widening. “Deal. You’ll love it, though. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

The two of you began walking down the street, and the air between you seemed to settle into something new, something more intimate. The world around you felt quieter now, each step taking you farther from the noise of the event and closer to something more personal. With every step, the liquid courage from the champagne seemed to melt away, leaving behind a fluttery, almost nervous feeling in your chest. Maybe it was the lingering heat from the flirting, or maybe it was just that you were walking with him, alone.

“So,” you asked, trying to keep it light, but your curiosity bubbled through, “how many people do you drag to these random pizza spots, Ben?”

He chuckled at that, his eyes flicking over to you for a brief moment, amused. “Honestly? Not many. You’re the first one, I think.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Really? I’m the first person you’ve brought here?”

Ben shrugged casually, his grin widening with the playfulness that was so typical of him. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing. But when I find a place this good, I kinda want to share it with someone who'd 'ppreciate it, someone who's... worth it.”

His words hung in the air, and for a split second, everything between you seemed to be still. You could feel the warmth in your chest, the closeness between you suddenly feeling charged. You fought the urge to let it show, instead meeting his gaze with a playful grin.

“Well, lucky me, huh?”

“Lucky you,” Ben echoed, and his voice softened just enough that you noticed. He turned slightly toward you, his pace matching yours, steady and relaxed.

By the time you reached the pizza place, the small talk had faded into a comfortable silence, both of you still trying to make sense of whatever was happening between you. You hadn’t crossed any line yet, but with every moment, it felt more inevitable that something was to change. As you walked inside the tiny pizzeria, the smell of fresh baked goods hit you immediately. The cozy, intimate atmosphere felt like a world away from the high-energy chaos of the event. Ben led you to the counter, and even though the tension between you was still palpable, it had shifted. It was no longer the playful, teasing kind of tension, it was something else. Something unspoken, but undeniable.

You had no idea where this was heading, but with Ben by your side, you were curious to find out.

You walk back toward the venue, the buzz of the event now a distant memory, stomachs full from the pizza that somehow tasted better than it had any right to. The tiny pizzeria, tucked away in a quiet corner, had been the perfect escape. The laughter that had flowed freely while you ate had washed away the tension and the drunken buzz that had clung to you both all night. It had been easy, lighthearted, comfortable, like nothing had changed, even though everything had.

As the two of you strolled back under the glow of the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between you. The air was cool, a light breeze weaving through the night. The only sound was the rhythm of your shoes on the pavement. Yet, inside, you both felt the weight of what hadn’t been said.

Ben’s hands were stuffed in his pockets as he kept pace with you, his easy stride matching yours. But something had shifted in him, his smile softer, his eyes more attentive as he glanced at you. “You look really good tonight, you know that?”

You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes as you shook your head. “Ben, you keep saying that,” you teased, “What’s the deal with you tonight? You want something?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, genuine and unguarded. “Nah, I'm just sayin' 'cause it’s true,” he said, a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Your stomach fluttered, the compliment hitting you harder than you expected. You’d heard him say things like that before, but tonight? There was something different in the way he said it. Something quieter, more sincere.

“Okay, okay,” you said with a grin, trying to mask the effect his words had on you. “I get it, I look good. Thank you.” You laughed at yourself, but Ben’s gaze never wavered from you.

Ben chuckled, his tone light but steady. “I mean it,” he repeated softly, then added, “And that necklace we got... It’s perfect for you, made for you. Looks really good on you.”

You touched the pendant on the necklace, the one he had picked out for you earlier, and it felt foreign now. Warmer, more meaningful, like it was holding a piece of the night with it. “I think you’re just saying that to flatter me,” you teased.

“I’m not,” he said seriously, his voice dropping slightly. “You really do look good. I mean you’ve always looked good, but tonight... I dunno, it’s sumn' else.”

You caught the sincerity in his words, and your heart thumped a little harder. Ben, usually the jokester, was being serious now. “Well,” you said, your voice almost breathless, “Thank you. I’ll take it.”

He smiled, a playful glint in his eyes still there, but it was softer. “Of course.”

There was a long pause as you walked side by side. The city’s lights flickered around you, the hum of the night settling into a comfortable silence. But then, something shifted. You couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“So, Ben…” you started, your voice tentative. “Are you like this with every girl you meet?”

His stride faltered for just a second, and he turned to look at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, like ‘this’?”

“Flirty,” you let out a breath at your boldness, a teasing edge in your voice. “Like making everyone feel like they’re the only one. Are you always so... charming?” You paused, gathering your courage. “You do this with every girl?”

Ben stopped walking, his hands sliding out of his pockets as he processed your words. He tilted his head, studying your face before shaking his head.

“What girl do I have around me or talk to, besides you, Emma and my mom?” His voice was calm, but there was an honesty in it that made your chest tighten. “You’re the only girl I ever talk to like this, spend time with. So no, not every girl.”

You blinked, surprised. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, really.” He looked at you like you were asking the most obvious question. “You think I’m like this with every girl I meet? I only talk to you like this.”

That honesty hit you harder than you expected, your breath catching. You hadn’t realized how much you’d assumed about him until now. His words made your heart race.

You glanced up at him, trying to make sense of it all. But his expression said everything you needed to know.

“Yeah, duh, c'mon, Y/N” he grinned, a sincere, slightly confused smile spreading across his face. “What makes you think I’d mess around like that? It’s only you.”

You stopped walking, your mind racing as his words sank in. “Wait,” you said, a disbelieving smile spreading across your face, though your brow furrowed. “You’re telling me, you don’t talk to anyone else like this? You don’t hang out with other girls?”

Ben chuckled softly, his hands back in his pockets, but his eyes serious as he looked at you. “Nah, you’re the only one I ask to hang with. You’re the only one I text first when I’m on tour. You’re the one I call to mess around with.” He smiled like he was telling you the simplest truth in the world. “So yeah, it’s just you.”

You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding in your chest. Every word Ben had said felt like it was pulling you under, a current that you could no longer fight. You hadn’t realised how much you needed to hear him say those things until the weight of them hit you, until his words finally opened the floodgates in your chest, making your heart pound. Could it be that he valued you just as much as you did him? You let out a slow breath, the air feeling heavier now like you were standing on the edge of something monumental.

“Ben…” you whispered as you halted in your tracks, your voice unsteady but determined, a sigh escaping your lips.

It didn’t make sense. You’d always assumed Ben had people around him, always figured he was surrounded by fans or other girls, but hearing him say that you were the one, the only one, hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. You opened your mouth to try to verbalise the swirling thoughts in your head, but the words stuck, so instead, you let the silence sit between you. Then, Ben took a slow step closer, his tone shifting from casual to something more serious.

“Can I be honest with you?” His voice was lower now, the playful edge that usually made everything feel light gone.

You nodded before you could even stop yourself, feeling your heartbeat thud in your chest. There was no going back now, not with the way he looked at you.

He took a deep breath before he began, looking down the street before turning to face you.

“I like you,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Like, I really like you.” His gaze held yours, unwavering. “I know it’s probably not the best time to say it with everything going on, with our tours and us barely seein’ each other, but I can’t just let this hang on. I can’t just let it pass and regret not saying somethin’ later. I’m not that dumb.”

He exhaled like he was trying to shake off the weight of what he had just confessed, looking at you like he was unsure whether you would run or stay.

“You’ve got this way of, like... pullin’ me in, y’know? I don’t even know what to do with myself most of the time. I try to act like it's all cool like I’m just messin' around, but I can’t stop thinkin' about you, ever. And I never thought I’d be the kind of guy who gets wrapped up in somethin' like this. But here I am.”

You blinked, not sure if your heart was beating too fast or too slow. His confession hung in the air, heavier than anything either of you had said before. It was raw, and it made your chest tighten.

“I know we got months apart, and I know you probably think I’m crazy for sayin’ this now, but I had to say it.” He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just... It’s just you.”

You stood still for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. The weight of his confession settled over you, his words still hanging in the air, thick with meaning. Your heart raced, and you could feel your pulse at your fingertips as you tried to process everything he had just shared. Ben took another step closer, inches away from you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was an intensity in his gaze that made everything feel surreal like you were the only two people in the world. His voice softened as he spoke again, this time with more emotion than before, his words raw and unguarded.

“You know,” he started, his drawl even more pronounced now, “ever since we first met, I wanted to be in your circle. I wanted to be around you, be close to you. But when I saw you with that necklace, and my hoodie, laughin’ and lookin’ up at me like that, God, Y/N, swear I could feel my heart meltin’ right then. I don’t even know how to explain it. It just felt like... I dunno, like everything clicked.” He paused, his breath catching as if he was just now realizing how much those little moments had meant to him.

“And when you told me about your ex, Jesus, I wanted to-” He cut himself off, a flash of anger flickering in his eyes, but he quickly controlled it. “I wanted to kill that son of a-” He stopped himself again, shaking his head as if shaking off the anger.

“Not that it matters. But what matters is that I want to show you what real love is. What real care feels like. What a real man’s like, y’know?” His voice dropped even lower, barely above a whisper. “What you deserve, and then some.”

He leaned in slightly, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, fingers brushing lightly, but lingering longer than necessary.

“Hell, if you gave me a chance, even, just, like, 20 minutes?” He let out a breath, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, but there was no humour behind it, only sincerity. “I’d give you the world, and more, in that short time. Until you told me enough. But I need you to know that... it’s real. It’s all real, Y/N. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t.”

You stood frozen, your mouth slightly parted, trying to catch your breath. His words hit you like a wave, each sentence making your heart race faster, your chest tightening as the weight of everything he said settled into your bones. You couldn’t speak for a second, lost in the gravity of what he had just revealed. The vulnerability, the truth in his eyes, the way his words laid bare a side of him you hadn’t seen before, it was all too much, and yet everything you hadn’t realized you wanted.

A sigh escaped your lips as the words came tumbling out of you.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping you, but it was one of relief, one of release. “You drive me insane, Ben. Every time you’re around, every time you look at me like that, like I’m the only one in the room, it makes me feel things I’m not sure I know how to handle. I can’t even explain it to myself, let alone to you. It’s like I’m constantly trying to push it down, but every time you smile, or, God, when you do that thing with your eyes when you look at me like you’re the only one who really sees me…” You trailed off, the words too big to say all at once. You exhaled, shaking your head, but the relief was already washing over you. “I’ve never felt like this before. Not even close.”

Ben was quiet for a moment, his gaze softening as he listened. You could see the understanding in his eyes, the way he was holding back, yet completely tuned in to every word. It was different now. You felt his grip on your fingers tighten just slightly as if grounding both of you at this moment, a silent assurance that you weren’t alone in this confession.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and gentle. “You don’t have to hold back with me.” He stepped closer, his other hand lifting to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a slow, deliberate motion that made your breath hitch. “I’ve felt it too. All of it. Every damn time I’m with you, I can’t stop thinkin’ about how much I want this. Want you.”

Before you could respond, before you could even process the depth of his words, Ben pulled you in, unable to hold back anymore. His lips found yours with a sudden, overwhelming intensity that took the air from your lungs. His kiss was deep, full of everything that had been unspoken between you two for so long, full of everything you needed and more. His hand at the back of your neck held you steady as his other arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, the warmth of his body sending a wave of heat through you.

The late night wrapped around you like a blanket, the streetlights casting soft pools of light across the footpath, but it was the brick wall behind you that grounded you. Your back pressed against it, your hands instinctively finding his shirt, tugging him closer as if you couldn’t get enough. You felt his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, in sync with the way your pulse quickened in response to him. Ben’s lips moved against yours with a kind of desperate gentleness, his kiss unhurried but passionate and purposeful, as if he was trying to pour everything he hadn’t said into this single moment. The world felt far away, all that existed was him and you, the weight of his confession still settling in the space between you, the understanding, the desire.

When he finally pulled back, it was only enough for your lips to part, breaths mingling between you, your chest rising and falling as if you had just run a marathon. His forehead rested against yours, and his hands slid from your face to the small of your back, holding you steady as you both tried to catch your breath.

You were still tangled up in the magic of his kiss, in the rawness of this moment, where everything finally made sense. The world seemed to slow down as you both stood there, foreheads pressed together. The air between you was thick with something unspoken, your breaths were still heavy, your heart racing, but there was also a quiet sense of relief as if you’d both been holding your breath for the longest time.

Ben leaned in slightly, his smile playful yet soft, his gaze locking with yours as the quiet of the night settled around you. "You know," he said, his voice low and teasing, "for the first time, you’ve got me completely speechless."

You couldn’t help but giggle at the silliness of it all, the way he always knew just how to make you laugh, how to make everything feel lighter. The sound of your laugh made his gummy smile widen, and before he could say anything else, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, your heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the night or the streetlights around you. It was just him.

Everything felt right at that moment, the electricity in the air, the warmth of his touch, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Maybe you and Ben didn't make much sense together to everyone else, but to the two of you, it was clear as day.

#azzie asks #ben shelton #benshelton #ben shelton x reader #atp tennis

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doreminimi · 1 month ago

Text

lost in translation: fated encounters

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: Yuki Ishikawa x Exchange Student Reader

₊˚⊹♡⋆ 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 9,286 (with epilogue)

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ 𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: An architectural exchange student from Japan finds herself in a bind when a service repairman arrives at her apartment in Perugia, Italy, but doesn’t speak a word of Italian. Amidst the chaos and miscommunication, her friendly neighbor, Yuki Ishikawa, steps in to help. His fluent Italian and kind demeanor break the ice, sparking an unexpected friendship between the two, maybe even leading to something more.

a/n: I might have added more to the story after that little teaser from a few days ago 🙈 but I hope you enjoy the story!

song playlist - daydream, ariana grande // perfect, one direction // stuck with you, ariana grande & justin bieber // angel baby, troye sivan // snooze, sza // 2002, anne-marie // enchanted, taylor swift // swap it out, justin bieber // late night talking, harry styles // written in the stars, wendy & john legend // fallin' all in you, shawn mendes // night changes, one direction // i like me better, lauv // count it, nayeon // dandelion, jaehyun // moonlit floor, lisa // saturn, sza (songs to listen to - doesn't have to be in any particular order)

One:

It’s another breezy autumn day in Tokyo, where life flows like a river through the bustling city streets. The air is crisp and invigorating, carrying the vibrant scents of street food — takoyaki sizzling on grills, the sweet aroma of taiyaki fresh from vendors, and the earthy fragrance of fallen leaves creating a rich collage of seasonal delights. As you navigate through the busy crowds of people, each absorbed in their own worlds, you find solace in the rhythm of the city, a comforting backdrop to your hectic life as a graduate student.

Rushing toward the University of Tokyo, you glance anxiously at your watch, a knot of worry tightening in your stomach. Today marks your weekly meeting with your supervisor, and the stakes feel especially high. You can’t afford to be late. Your heart races as you weave through groups of students, professionals, and tourists, each person wrapped in their own narrative, blissfully unaware of the internal chaos swirling within you.

Y/F/N Y/L/N. At 27, you’ve dedicated yourself to your Master’s degree in Architectural Conservation. For you, this isn’t just an academic pursuit; it’s a calling that intertwines with your passion for history and your desire to shape a better future. You envision a world where the stories of the past are honored and preserved, one building at a time. It’s a lofty ambition, but each day you draw closer to that goal, even if it feels like a long and winding road.

Finally, you reach the meeting room, taking a moment to collect yourself before stepping inside. The door swings open to reveal a space that feels like a sanctuary, walls lined with bookshelves crammed with tomes on architecture, history, and conservation, each volume whispering secrets of the past. Your supervisor, a seasoned professor with a welcoming demeanor and an infectious enthusiasm for his field, greets you with a smile that immediately eases some of your tension.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” he says, gesturing for you to take a seat at the polished wooden table strewn with papers and blueprints. “I’ve been looking forward to discussing your progress.”

As you dive into the intricacies of your research, examining the elegant curves of Baroque facades and the solemn lines of Gothic structures, emphasizing the vital importance of preservation, you can’t shake the feeling of anticipation bubbling just beneath the surface. The room feels charged, as if the air itself is holding its breath. After you lay out your findings, your supervisor leans back in his chair, his expression shifting to one of intrigue and excitement.

“Y/N, you’ve made remarkable progress. I’m genuinely impressed,” he begins, his tone growing serious. “I have a unique opportunity for you. The university has partnered with several prestigious institutions in Italy focused on architectural conservation, and we would like to offer you a short-term internship. It would involve further research at the University of Perugia.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, time seems to freeze. The prospect of Italy, a country steeped in architectural marvels and rich history, sends your mind racing. Images of ancient ruins, stunning cathedrals, and charming piazzas flood your thoughts, and you find yourself questioning the serendipity that has led to this moment. Ever since you were young, you have been captivated by the Italian lifestyle, the art, the culture, and the passion for beauty in every detail.

“Would you be interested?” he asks, his voice steady, grounding you in the moment.

Your heart leaps, a thrill of excitement surging through you. “Yes! Absolutely!” you reply, your voice filled with an enthusiasm that surprises even you.

His smile widens, radiating a mix of pride and encouragement that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “Fantastic. I’ll arrange the details. This could be a life-changing experience for you,” he assures you, his eyes twinkling with the promise of adventure and discovery.

As you leave the meeting, a renewed sense of purpose fills your veins. The bustling streets of Tokyo fade into the background, replaced by the vibrant, sun-drenched landscapes of Italy, where your dreams of conservation and culture are about to unfold.

Two:

Packing for Italy felt like a whirlwind, chaotic and exhilarating, with an undercurrent of anxiety gnawing at your excitement. Unlike your usual trips or holidays, this journey was more than just a vacation; it represented a chance to dive deep into your passion for architectural conservation. Each item you carefully folded and placed in your suitcase felt heavy with significance, as if you were curating a small part of your identity to bring along on this grand adventure.

You meticulously arranged your favorite sketchbooks, ensuring they were nestled safely between layers of clothing, their pages eager to capture the inspiration that awaited you. Your trusty set of pencils, worn from years of use, found their place alongside a few carefully chosen tokens from home: a small photograph of your family, a delicate charm bracelet from a friend, and a handmade postcard filled with messages of encouragement. Each item served as a reminder of the love and support that surrounded you, especially from those who had gathered for tearful goodbyes and heartfelt hugs. As you zipped up your suitcase, the reality of what lay ahead began to settle in, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Finally, the day of your departure arrived. The air buzzed with excitement as you boarded the plane, your heart racing at the thought of what awaited you in Italy. Tokyo faded beneath you, the sprawling metropolis giving way to the vast expanse of sky, filled with endless possibilities. You found solace in the thought of exploring Italy’s rich history and architectural treasures, even as nerves about the language barrier nibbled at the edges of your excitement.

Upon landing, Italy enveloped you like a warm embrace. Perugia welcomed you with its sun-drenched hills and terracotta rooftops, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the muted tones of Tokyo. The cobblestone streets wound like ancient rivers, guiding you through a city steeped in history. You could almost hear the whispers of those who walked these paths long before you, and a thrill of inspiration coursed through your veins. The air was rich with the scent of aged stone and blooming flowers, creating an intoxicating blend that made your heart swell with possibility.

After settling into your cozy off-campus apartment, characterized by its rustic wooden beams overhead and a small balcony overlooking the lively street below, you took a moment to breathe in the charm of your new surroundings. The view from your balcony offered a snapshot of everyday Italian life: locals chatting animatedly, children playing, and the distant sound of a street musician strumming a cheerful tune. Yet, a shadow of anxiety loomed over you; while you were fluent in Japanese, English, Korean, and even had a bit of Mandarin under your belt, Italian was a language you had never studied. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to embrace the challenge and immerse yourself in this new world.

The next day, you headed to the University of Perugia for your initial meeting with the faculty contacts regarding your internship. The campus was alive with students bustling between classes, the air buzzing with excitement and lively conversation. As you navigated through the maze of historical buildings, each with its own unique character, you finally found the office of your liaison, Dr. Conti. She was a warm and welcoming woman with an infectious smile that immediately put you at ease.

“Welcome, Y/N!” she greeted you, extending her hand enthusiastically. “We’re thrilled to have you here. I hope your journey was smooth?”

“It was wonderful, thank you!” you replied, feeling a swell of gratitude for her kindness.

Dr. Conti led you into a sunlit conference room adorned with images of historical sites, an inspiring backdrop for your discussion. The walls were lined with photos of breathtaking architecture, from the intricate details of Renaissance buildings to the stark beauty of medieval structures. You felt a surge of motivation as she began outlining the internship details, her enthusiasm palpable.

“We’re excited to facilitate your research on architectural conservation,” she explained, her eyes sparkling with energy. “You’ll have the chance to visit various historical sites across Italy.” As she spoke, she painted a vivid picture of what lay ahead: Florence with its iconic Duomo, Venice with its enchanting canals, and Rome, where history echoes in every corner. “We have partnerships with several institutions, and you’ll be collaborating with experts in the field. We’ll focus on preservation techniques and the history behind these magnificent structures.”

Your heart raced at the thought of exploring those iconic cities. Eagerly, you leaned in, absorbing every detail of your impending adventures. “What will my specific role be?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Dr. Conti smiled warmly. “You’ll assist in research and documentation at each site. This will involve taking notes, conducting analyses, and participating in discussions. It’s an incredible opportunity to learn and contribute to important projects.”

As she detailed the itinerary, a sense of purpose solidified within you. The language barrier still loomed like a specter, but the thought of working alongside passionate individuals filled you with hope and determination. The prospect of diving headfirst into your work ignited a fire in your belly.

After the meeting concluded, Dr. Conti extended an invitation to a small get-together dinner with your new colleagues that evening. “It’ll be a casual gathering, a chance for you to meet everyone and unwind after your travels. We want you to feel at home here,” she said, her tone warm and inviting.

“Thank you! I’d love to join,” you replied, your spirits lifting at the prospect of making connections.

Later that evening, you found yourself at a cozy trattoria, laughter and conversation enveloping you like a warm blanket. The air was filled with the enticing aroma of homemade pasta and rich sauces simmering on the stove. Colleagues welcomed you with open arms, sharing stories and anecdotes that made you feel instantly included. Their passion for their work was infectious, each person animatedly discussing architectural styles and preservation techniques, their love for Italy evident in every word.

You listened intently, contributing whenever you could, though you occasionally struggled with vocabulary. Their encouragement and patience made it easier to engage, each smile and nod reassuring you. The clinking of glasses and the warm glow of candlelight created an atmosphere of camaraderie, allowing you to relax and enjoy the evening.

As you sipped on a glass of local wine, the initial anxiety began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of belonging. Surrounded by friendly faces, you realized that you were not just in Italy to study; you were part of a vibrant community that shared your passion for history and conservation. With a heart full of hope and excitement for the journey ahead, you reveled in the moment, knowing that this was just the beginning of an incredible adventure.

Settling back into your apartment later that night, you reflected on the day’s events, the rich tapestry of history and culture surrounding you felt like a dream come true. With the promise of exploration and discovery ahead, you drifted off to sleep, a smile on your face and a sense of belonging warming your heart.

Three:

The days flew by, each one brimming with new experiences and challenges that filled your senses with wonder. Your routine quickly settled into a rhythm that felt both invigorating and comforting: mornings filled with engaging lectures on architectural conservation, afternoons dedicated to sketching the breathtaking landscapes around you and diving into research, and evenings devoted to practicing basic Italian phrases and vocabulary. As the days passed, the vibrant city of Perugia slowly began to feel like home.

Every day at the University of Perugia unveiled something new, like peeling back the layers of a complex painting. The professors were not only knowledgeable; they were passionate, eager to share their insights and foster discussions that ignited your curiosity. Each lecture was a journey, leading you deeper into the intricacies of Italy’s architectural heritage. You spent hours in the university library, poring over texts that chronicled centuries of design and innovation, planning visits to historical sites that made your heart race with excitement. With every new detail you uncovered, your understanding of the country’s storied past grew, and you felt a deeper connection to the very stones and bricks that had shaped its cities.

Yet, despite the thrill of discovery, the language barrier continued to present formidable hurdles. Simple tasks, such as ordering a cappuccino or asking for directions, often morphed into frustrating battles. You found yourself relying heavily on gestures, fumbling for words, and chuckling at the miscommunications that inevitably arose. At times, it felt isolating, and the weight of loneliness pressed heavily on your chest. The café you frequented before classes buzzed with animated conversations in rapid Italian, laughter spilling over like the foamy milk of the cappuccinos being served. You often wondered if you would ever feel fully woven into the vibrant life in this enchanting city.

One particularly chilly afternoon, disaster struck. You returned to your apartment after a long day of lectures, only to discover that the heating had failed. A sense of dread washed over you as you realized the implications; the temperature was plummeting, and you needed to address the problem quickly before the cold seeped into your bones. You recalled seeing a number for a repair service posted in the hallway and decided to take action.

You rushed to your phone, your heart pounding in your chest as you dialed the number. The sound of the ringing filled the silence, amplifying your anxiety. When a voice finally answered, relief washed over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of panic. “Um, non funziona,” you stammered, realizing that your command of Italian was far from sufficient to communicate your urgent issue.

The voice on the other end responded rapidly in Italian, the words flowing like a rushing river. You frowned, trying desperately to catch snippets of meaning, but it was overwhelming. Desperation gripped you as you gestured helplessly, wishing you could convey your problem more clearly.

Just then, you heard a knock on your apartment door. You opened it to find a service man standing there, clipboard in hand, ready to assess the situation. His expression was friendly, but as he spoke, you quickly realized he was speaking in rapid Italian.

“Non capisco!” you exclaimed, feeling the panic rise within you. In a moment of inspiration, you dashed to the kitchen and grabbed your translation device, hoping it could bridge the gap. With a deep breath, you pressed the button and spoke into it, “The heating is not working.”

You held it out toward the service man, who glanced at it with a raised eyebrow. As he listened to the translated message, you could see a flicker of understanding cross his face, but he quickly replied with a string of technical terms that left you even more bewildered. Your heart sank as you struggled to keep up, the situation feeling increasingly hopeless.

Just as you were about to hang your head in defeat, a figure appeared in the hallway.

“Hey, is everything okay?” a young man asking in Japanese, stepping into your view. His dark hair fell just above his eyes, and he radiated a casual confidence that made you feel instantly at ease.

Yet, you blinked in surprise at his presence, not expecting someone to help you especially in a language that feels like home to you. “You speak Japanese?” you asked, a glimmer of hope igniting within you.

“Yes, I’m Yuki, your neighbor,” he replied with a friendly smile that melted away some of your anxiety. “Let me help.”

Relief flooded through you as he turned to the service man and began translating smoothly, effortlessly switching between Italian and Japanese. You watched in awe as he conveyed your issue, the service man nodding along, clearly understanding for the first time. The tension in your chest began to loosen, and you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you.

In mere minutes, Yuki had communicated the problem effectively, and the service man responded with assurance, gesturing for you to follow him to the heating unit. With Yuki translating the technical details, you learned about the issue at hand and the steps needed for repairs. His presence transformed the intimidating situation into something manageable, and you found yourself smiling as you listened.

After the service man left, you turned to Yuki, gratitude spilling from your lips in Japanese. “Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I have to run now, or I’ll be late to my meeting!”

As you scurried off, Yuki watched you leave, a mix of admiration and intrigue in his eyes. “She’s something else,” he thought, already pondering how to get to know you better. The warmth of human connection began to replace the earlier chill, leaving you with a sense of hope as you stepped out into the bustling streets of Perugia once more.

Four:

Days turned into a week, and you continued to navigate life in Perugia, where its rich culture began to unfold before you. The city slowly revealed its beauty, sun-drenched piazzas, charming cafes, and stunning vistas, but the language barrier persisted, creating a constant challenge. One serene afternoon, you found yourself in the garden of your apartment block, sketchbook in hand. The golden leaves danced in the autumn breeze, swirling gently to the ground, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to forget the struggles that lingered in the back of your mind.

Yuki had just returned to the apartment complex after a particularly intensive volleyball training session. He felt invigorated yet exhausted, the fresh air revitalizing him as he inhaled the sweet scent of blooming flowers wafting from the small garden shared by the residents. Deciding to take a moment to unwind, he stepped into the garden, his eyes scanning the peaceful scene before him.

To his delight, he spotted you sitting on a bench beneath a large olive tree, deeply engrossed in your sketching. Your pencil moved fluidly across the page, capturing the delicate play of light and shadow. A rush of warmth spread through him at the sight; there was something undeniably captivating about watching you in your element, completely absorbed in your passion.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching. You looked up to see Yuki, relaxed in a simple t-shirt and joggers, a friendly smile on his face. “Hey, enjoying the garden?” he asked, his voice breaking the serene atmosphere.

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. “It’s beautiful here. I’ve always dreamed of coming to Italy, but… I’m struggling with the language.”

Yuki quickly took a seat beside you on the bench, considering your words thoughtfully. “I can help you with that. How about I teach you Italian, and you teach me English?”

Your heart leaped at the idea. “That sounds perfect! I’d love that!”

From that moment, you began your weekly meetups, gathering in each other’s apartments, surrounded by textbooks, notes, and the occasional stray sketch. The air was filled with laughter and the gentle hum of learning, punctuated by the occasional frustration as you fumbled through phrases. Each lesson felt like a dance, with Yuki patiently correcting your pronunciation while you helped him navigate the subtleties of slang.

“What’s the Italian word for ‘dream’?” you asked one evening, jotting it down in your notebook.

“‘Sogno.’ It’s a beautiful word, don’t you think?” he replied, a soft smile lighting up his face. “It holds a sense of longing, of hope.”

As the weeks passed, your conversations deepened, exploring not only language but also the stories that shaped you both. One evening, sitting on your balcony under the silvery glow of the moon, you turned to Yuki and said, “You know, I’ve always wanted to travel and see the world. But coming here… it’s more than I imagined. It’s like I’m not just discovering a new place; I’m discovering parts of myself I didn’t know were missing.”

Yuki leaned closer, intrigued. “What do you mean? What have you discovered about yourself?”

You hesitated, the weight of your thoughts grounding you. “I’ve always been the one to follow the rules, to stay in the lines. But here, I feel free to explore, to create. The architecture, the history,it speaks to me in a way I’ve never experienced before. It’s like I can finally breathe.”

His expression softened, and he nodded thoughtfully. “It’s amazing how a place can unlock something within us. What about your studies? Why did you choose architectural conservation?”

You took a deep breath, reflecting on the journey that had led you here. “I’ve always been captivated by the stories buildings tell. Every crack, every faded paint color,it's like they hold memories of the lives that came before. I want to preserve that history, to honor it. In a world that often pushes for the new and shiny, I believe there’s beauty in what’s old and worn. It deserves to be seen, to be understood.”

Yuki listened intently, his eyes bright with curiosity. “I can see how passionate you are about this. But why Italy? What draws you here specifically?”

You smiled, the memories flooding back. “As a child, I was entranced by Italian art and architecture. I’d spend hours in museums, dreaming of standing in front of a Renaissance painting or wandering through ancient ruins. Italy isn’t just a backdrop for my studies; it’s a living, breathing piece of art itself. It felt like destiny to come here.”

He leaned back, contemplating your words. “You have such a deep appreciation for history. But isn’t it intimidating to think about preserving something so grand and significant?”

You nodded, acknowledging the weight of the responsibility. “It is. But it also feels like a calling. I want to learn from the past to create a better future, even if it’s just one building at a time. It’s about connecting with people through these structures, sharing their stories.”

A moment of silence settled between you, the moonlight casting a serene glow. Yuki felt a newfound respect for you, captivated by your passion and depth. “That’s beautiful. You’re not just studying architecture; you’re crafting a narrative that will resonate long after you’re gone.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “Thank you, Yuki. That means a lot coming from you.”

As you spoke, the boundaries between you began to dissolve. You were no longer just a stranger in a foreign land; you were two souls intertwined in a shared journey of discovery. Your laughter filled the night air, each moment bringing you closer together. You realized that by opening up to each other, you had started to build a friendship that not only reflected the rich histories you both cherished but was also blossoming into something deeper — a relationship full of promise and connection.

Five:

As the weeks rolled on, the anticipation of your next nightly meeting with Yuki lingers in the back of your mind like a sweet melody. Classes were engaging, and you found yourself diving deeper into your research, but there was a lightness in your heart that made even the most tedious tasks feel enjoyable. The bond you were forming with Yuki. had brought a spark to your days, and you couldn’t wait to see where it might lead.

One evening, after a long day of lectures, you decided to unwind by scrolling through TikTok. As the videos flitted by, one caught your attention: a clip of a volleyball match featuring a player who moved with incredible agility and grace. You couldn’t help but stop, mesmerized by the power and finesse on display. The comment section was flooded with admiration for the athlete, and as you watched, a familiar face appeared on screen, Yuki.

Your jaw dropped as you recognized him, the same easy smile and familiar dark hair. You quickly scrolled through the comments, realizing he was the captain for the Japanese national team and a star player in the Italian league. The hours go by as you continually scroll through the app to learn more about your recently neighbour-turned-friend. Your mind raced, filled with questions. How had you not known?

The next time you met Yuki in the garden, you could hardly contain your excitement. “Yuki, you didn’t tell me you were a famous volleyball player! I saw a video on TikTok of you playing! You’re amazing!” you exclaimed, your eyes wide with astonishment.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck with a shy smile. “I didn’t think you would find out this way.”

“I can’t believe you’re a national team player! Why didn’t you tell me?” you pressed, still buzzing with disbelief.

“I guess I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” he replied, a hint of modesty in his tone. “I just love the sport. My older sister introduced me to volleyball when I was young, and I’ve been hooked ever since.”

“That’s amazing! What made you stick with it?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Yuki leaned back against the bench, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “It was more than just the game for me. It was a way to challenge myself, to grow both as an individual and as a player. When the opportunity came to play in Italy during my college years, I couldn’t resist. It felt like a chance to expand my horizons, experience a new culture, and improve my skills.”

You nodded, impressed by his journey. “So, how’s the league here compared to Japan?”

“It’s different, for sure,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he spoke about the sport. “The style of play, the atmosphere in the arenas, it's all unique. I’ve learned so much from my teammates here, and it’s been a rewarding experience.”

“What’s the biggest difference you’ve noticed?” you asked, leaning in, eager to hear more.

Yuki thought for a moment, then smiled. “In Japan, there’s a strong emphasis on precision and teamwork. Here, the players tend to be more individualistic, which creates a different kind of excitement. The energy in the stadiums is electric; the fans really get into it. It makes every match feel like an event.”

You could see the passion in his eyes, and it made you want to know more. “Do you have a favorite match or moment that stands out to you?”

His expression turned nostalgic. “Definitely. One match during the volleyball nations league finals in 2023 was unforgettable, it was the first time Japan won a medal in the VNLs. The game went into five sets, and the atmosphere was just insane. I remember making a crucial spike that turned the tide and closed the game. The roar of the crowd was deafening, it felt like everything I had trained for had come to fruition in that moment.”

“Wow, I can only imagine how exhilarating that must have been! Do you ever get nervous before a big game?” you asked, intrigued.

He laughed lightly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. “All the time. But I’ve learned to channel that nervous energy into focus. It’s like a dance, you have to find your rhythm, or you’ll get lost in your head. Plus, having my teammates around helps. We support each other, and that bond is really special.”

You smiled, appreciating his perspective. “It sounds like you’ve built a great team dynamic. It’s so important to have that kind of support.”

“I’d love to see you play,” you said without thinking, your excitement bubbling over. “Do you have any upcoming games?”

Yuki’s expression brightened. “Actually, yes. We have a home game this Saturday. Would you like to come? It would mean a lot to me to have someone there supporting me.”

Your heart raced at the invitation. “I’d love to! What time is the game?”

“Starts at six. I can get you a ticket,” he offered, his enthusiasm palpable.

“You don’t have to go out of your way to do that for me, I can try to get the ticket myself. But thank you for the offer. Regardless I can’t wait to see you play live!” you thanked him, your excitement blending with a hint of nervousness.

As the conversation flowed, you both discussed the logistics of the game, and you found yourself getting caught up in his passion for volleyball. It was a side of him that felt so vibrant and alive, and you felt lucky to be included in this part of his life.

When the day of the game finally arrived, you found yourself buzzing with anticipation. You dressed in comfortable clothes, deciding to wear a simple oversized jersey tucked neatly into the seams of your jeans. As you made your way to the arena, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttered in your stomach. This was a chance to see a different side of Yuki, and you were eager to experience it.

Upon arriving at the venue, you were greeted by the energetic atmosphere, the sounds of fans cheering, and the smell of popcorn wafting through the air. You spotted Yuki warming up on the court with his teammates, and your heart swelled with pride as you watched him move with such intensity and focus.

As the match progressed, you found yourself completely immersed in the game, cheering along with the crowd. Every time Yuki scored a point, you erupted with joy, your excitement matching the energy of the fans around you. It was exhilarating, and you felt a newfound appreciation for the sport and for Yuki himself.

When the final whistle blew and the team celebrated their victory, you couldn’t help but join in their excitement. Yuki spotted you in the stands, a radiant smile breaking across his face as he jogged over, still glistening with sweat from the game.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked, breathless but beaming.

“It was incredible! You played so well!” you exclaimed, still riding the high of the match.

“Thanks! I’m glad you came. It means a lot to have your support,” he said, his expression warm and sincere.

In that moment, surrounded by the buzz of victory and the vibrant energy of the arena, you realized just how deeply your feelings for him were growing. It was more than just friendship; there was something special blossoming between you, and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

Six:

As spring blossomed in Perugia, the city transformed into a vibrant display of colors. Flowers burst into bloom, filling the air with their sweet fragrance and the promise of new beginnings. It had been several months since you first arrived in Italy, and as your internship at the University of Perugia neared its end, you found yourself reflecting on the incredible journey you had taken, not just in your studies, but in your relationship with Yuki.

The bond between you had deepened remarkably over the months. What had started as a friendship rooted in shared experiences and language lessons had evolved into something much more profound. You spent countless hours together exploring the charming streets of Perugia, visiting museums, sipping coffee at quaint cafés, and enjoying late-night dinners at local restaurants. Each outing felt like a new adventure, a chance to learn more about each other and the world around you.

One sunny afternoon, you found yourselves at the farmers’ market on a rare day off together, the lively atmosphere filled with laughter and chatter. Yuki walked beside you, calm and collected, a gentle smile playing on his lips as you bounced from stall to stall, your excitement palpable.

“Look at this!” you exclaimed, holding up a plump tomato. “These beauties are going to be the star for our sauce-off next pasta night!” You turned to him, beaming.

Yuki chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “They certainly have potential,” he replied, his voice steady yet warm. “Just promise not to underestimate the power of love when cooking in the kitchen.”

You nudged him playfully. “Only if you promise not to use it as your secret ingredient!” His laughter felt like a soothing balm, easing the joy swirling around you.

As you wandered through the market, picking out ripe strawberries and fragrant basil, you marveled at how far you had come together. From art galleries filled with Renaissance masterpieces to lazy Sunday mornings sampling fresh produce and local delicacies, each shared moment deepened your bond. You even braved the bustling Christmas markets, bundled up in warm coats, exchanging playful banter as you browsed stalls filled with handmade crafts and seasonal treats.

With each shared experience, your feelings for Yuki grew stronger. His kindness, passion for volleyball, and genuine curiosity about the world drew you in like a moth to a flame. You admired how he balanced his athletic commitments, and his dedication inspired you to push harder in your own work. In turn, he found your determination and enthusiasm infectious, and the way you embraced every moment made him appreciate life in Italy even more.

Eventually, you made your way to the artisan corner of the market, where the air buzzed with creativity and the scents of handmade goods mingled with fresh produce. Colorful stalls displayed everything from intricate pottery to handwoven textiles, each one a testament to local craftsmanship. The vibrant atmosphere was alive with laughter and chatter, drawing you in like a warm embrace.

You spotted a vibrant scarf draped elegantly over one of the tables. Picking it up, you wrapped it around your shoulders and looked at Yuki expectantly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. “You look like a fashionable grape,” he teased, his tone light and playful.

“Very funny!” you rolled your eyes at him, but a smile tugged at your lips despite your best efforts to feign annoyance. You were having too much fun to take him seriously. “What about these earrings?” you asked, holding up a pair of colorful dangling pieces that caught the light just right, their hues reflecting your excitement.

Yuki took a moment to consider them, his expression thoughtful. “Those might be a bit too bold,” he finally said, his voice steady. “You need a hat to balance it out. Something to bring the whole look together.”

“Alright, fashion critic,” you laughed, a challenge dancing in your eyes. You scanned the nearby stall and spotted a wide-brimmed hat perched jauntily on a display. Without hesitation, you picked it up and plopped it onto your head, striking a dramatic pose as if you were on a runway.

Yuki’s laughter filled the air, rich and soothing, wrapping around you like a warm hug. The sound was infectious, drawing smiles from passersby and making your heart race a little faster. In that moment, something shifted; the playful teasing felt charged with a new warmth. You exchanged glances, and a flicker of understanding passed between you, as if you were both aware of the deeper connection growing in the space between your playful banter.

This wasn’t just a day at the market; it was a moment full of potential, like the scarf and hat you wore, colors blending together that hinted at the beautiful growth of your relationship. Surrounded by the lively buzz of the market and the promise of what lay ahead, you felt a thrilling sense of possibility lingering in the air.

As you both finished exploring the artisan corner, your bags filled with vibrant finds, you glanced at Yuki, who was quietly admiring a delicate glass ornament he had picked up. “I think we’ve officially completed our market adventure,” you said, grinning.

“Agreed,” he replied, a calm smile on his face. “But I think we deserve a reward for our hard work. How about a stop at that café we saw on the way in? I hear they have the best pastries in town.”

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. “That sounds perfect! I need something sweet after all that shopping.”

With the market behind you, the two of you strolled toward the cozy café, the air still buzzing. Yuki walked beside you, his presence steady and reassuring as you chattered excitedly about all the finds of the day. As you entered the café, the warm scent of freshly baked goods enveloped you, making your stomach rumble in anticipation. The café was charming, with rustic wooden tables and twinkling fairy lights that added to the inviting atmosphere.

You approached the counter, scanning the display of decadent desserts. “Look at all these choices!” you exclaimed, pointing to a beautifully layered cake that seemed to call your name. “I have to try that!”

Yuki nodded, his gaze calm and focused. “That looks good, and we can’t leave without getting their famous hot chocolate.”

After placing your order, two steaming mugs of rich hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and a selection of pastries, including the layered cake and some tiramisu, you found a cozy corner table by the window. You settled in, the warmth of the café enveloping you as you watched the world outside, where the lights danced against the evening sky.

As you sipped your hot chocolate, you couldn’t help but smile at Yuki. “This is the best way to end our day. Just look at everything we’ve accomplished!”

He took a sip of his drink, nodding appreciatively. “Absolutely. And we still have dessert to look forward to.”

You shared the desserts, each bite sweeter than the last, and the conversation flowed effortlessly between you. Laughter filled the air as you exchanged stories and silly banter, both of you completely absorbed in the moment. Yuki listened intently, responding with a soft chuckle or a thoughtful nod, his calm demeanor providing a comforting balance to your excitement.

With each shared smile and gentle touch, the bond between you felt even stronger, creating a collection of memories that you knew would last far beyond this magical day. As you prepared to head home, a sense of contentment settled in, the possibilities of what lay ahead blooming in your heart like the vibrant colors of the market. You knew this was just the beginning of many more adventures together.

Later that evening, back at your apartment after a long day, you lounged on the couch, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the room. You turned to Yuki, recalling how every moment spent together had brought you closer, solidifying your bond.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Yuki asked, leaning back with a nostalgic smile. “I was nervous about helping you with the repairman.”

You chuckled, recalling how flustered you had been that day. “Really? I didn’t even know! I was panicking, thinking I’d never figure anything out without your help. I can’t believe how far we’ve come since then.”

“Yeah, it’s like we’ve become a team,” he said, his gaze steady on you. “I can’t imagine my time here without you.”

The weight of his words settled in the air, and for a moment, silence enveloped you both. You felt a flutter of something, a shared understanding that your friendship had shifted into deeper territory. The thought of returning to Japan in a few weeks loomed over you, casting a shadow of uncertainty.

“What are you thinking?” Yuki asked gently, sensing your contemplation.

You took a deep breath, heart racing as you chose your words carefully. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our friendship… and what’s going to happen when I go back to Japan. I’m excited to finish my thesis, but I’m really going to miss this. I’m going to miss us.”

He nodded, his expression turning serious. “I’ve been feeling the same way. This place, the experiences we’ve shared,they’ve meant so much to me. I didn’t expect to form such a close bond with you.”

As he spoke, your heart pounded in your chest. The air crackled with tension, and you could feel the shift in the dynamic between you. You both had been dancing around your feelings for weeks, and now it seemed the moment had finally arrived.

“I think what we have is special,” you admitted, looking into his eyes. “But I’m scared. I don’t know what it looks like when I go back. I don’t want to lose what we’ve built here.”

Yuki leaned forward, his gaze intense. “You won’t lose it. We can figure it out together. I want to keep this connection alive, no matter the distance.”

Your breath caught at his words, a sense of hope blooming within you. “Really? You mean that?”

“Of course. I’d like to explore what this could be,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle. “I don’t want to put pressure on you, but I feel something more here. And I want to see where it leads.”

The warmth of his words enveloped you, and you felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over you. You both leaned in closer, the space between you charged with possibility. The idea of a romance blossoming felt thrilling yet daunting, but you couldn’t ignore the connection that had grown between you.

“So what does that look like for us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the reality of the situation settling in.

He paused, contemplating. “Well, for starters, we can make a plan to visit each other. I can come to Japan during my off-season, and you can come back here when you can. Plus, we can always video chat and keep texting.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you said, nodding, but a thought nagged at you. “But what if things change? What if we grow apart?”

“Change is inevitable,” he replied, his sincerity shining through. “But I believe we can adapt. We’ve both grown so much during our time here, and we can keep growing together. Our experiences shape us, but they can also strengthen our connection if we let them.”

You felt comforted by his words. “You’re right. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it scares me. But it also feels right.”

Yuki smiled softly, his expression tender. “Me too. I want to be there for you, even from afar. I’ll support you with your thesis and all your future plans. And I want you to be there for me when I have games and tournaments.”

A playful smile crept across your face. “You mean I’ll have to learn how to cheer for you in Italian now? That’s going to be a challenge!”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm. “I’ll help you with that! But honestly, I just want you in the stands, cheering me on. It would mean the world to have you there.”

“Deal,” you replied, your heart swelling at the thought of supporting him.

“But beyond just cheering,” he continued, his voice growing serious, “I want you to be part of my life, to understand the things that are important to me, just like I want to understand yours. It’s more than just distance; it’s about really sharing our lives.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed. “I want to know everything, your daily routines, your training, even your favorite post-game meals. And you’ll have to tell me all about your family and life back in Japan. I want to understand the real you.”

Yuki nodded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “And I want you to show me your world, too. I want to visit your favorite places in Japan and meet your friends. I want to know more about you, just like you will learn more about me.”

As the evening wore on, you both continued to talk, sharing hopes and dreams, crafting a vision of a future filled with adventures together. The laughter and warmth that filled the room made it feel like anything was possible.

With a newfound resolve, you both made a silent agreement to embrace whatever came next. For now, you were here together in this beautiful moment, ready to see where your journey would take you. The possibilities stretched out before you like the blooming flowers of spring, and you felt a renewed sense of excitement for what lay ahead.

Seven:

Returning to Japan was a bittersweet experience. The familiar sights and sounds of Tokyo enveloped you, yet they felt strangely different, transformed by your time abroad. The bustling streets, the scent of street food wafting through the air, and the vibrant energy of the city reminded you of home, but they also brought back memories of Italy - the warmth of the sun on your skin, the laughter shared over meals, and the enchanting cobblestone streets of Perugia. You had left as a passionate student and returned as someone shaped by profound experiences, both academic and personal, particularly your blossoming relationship with Yuki.

As graduation day approached, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. The University of Tokyo, renowned for its rigorous academic programs, was a place of pride, and the excitement of the upcoming ceremony filled the air. Friends and family gathered, and you felt a mixture of nerves and pride at the thought of standing before everyone as the valedictorian. It was an honor you had never anticipated, and the weight of that responsibility felt both thrilling and daunting.

On the day of the ceremony, you slipped into your cap and gown, your heart racing with both pride and anxiety. You took a moment to look in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric and adjusting your cap. You thought of how much you had grown over the past few years and how much you had learned about yourself. The thought of Yuki filled your mind, and a bittersweet smile crept onto your face wishing he would be here to celebrate your special day together.

As you arrived at the university hall, the grand space was filled with graduates in their caps and gowns, family members taking pictures, and the chatter of anticipation echoing off the walls. The sight of your friends, who had supported you through countless late-night study sessions and group projects, made you feel grateful. They had been your rock, and now you were about to embark on a new chapter of your life, one that included Yuki in a way you had never expected.

When it was time for your speech, you took a deep breath, stepping up to the podium. The audience was filled with familiar faces - your friends, family, and faculty members who had guided you through your studies. You glanced around, and there, amid the sea of graduates and supporters, you spotted Yuki sitting proudly beside your friends. His presence shocked you as you were not expecting him to be there, and yet you felt a surge of happiness at his presence.

“Good afternoon, esteemed faculty, family, friends, and fellow graduates,” you began, your voice steady and clear as you looked out at the crowd. “Today marks a significant milestone in our lives, a celebration of our hard work and perseverance. As I stand here, I am reminded of the incredible journey that brought me to this moment.”

You spoke about your experiences at the University of Tokyo, recounting the late nights spent in the library, the professors who inspired you, and the challenges that shaped your academic path. “I was fortunate enough to be presented with a unique opportunity to study architectural conservation in Italy. This experience was not only about expanding my knowledge but also about discovering who I am.”

As you shared stories of the people you met and the places you explored, your gaze drifted back to Yuki. He was leaning forward, a warm smile on his face, his eyes shining with pride. The sight filled you with warmth and strength as you continued, recounting how your time in Italy had broadened your horizons, enriched your life, and ultimately led to a profound connection with someone who had become a crucial part of your journey.

“During my time abroad, I learned that the world is vast and filled with opportunities for growth,” you said, your voice gaining momentum. “But more importantly, I discovered the value of connection. The friendships I forged and the love I found have made all the difference.”

You looked out at the audience, your heart swelling with emotion. “I remember feeling lost in a new city, struggling to communicate, yet I found a neighbor who became a friend, a mentor, and something even more special. The bond we formed taught me that sometimes, the people we least expect to touch our lives can change everything.”

The crowd erupted into applause, and you could feel the support wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You noticed your family beaming with pride, and your friends were clapping enthusiastically, but it was Yuki’s unwavering gaze that kept you grounded. He was your rock, your partner in this journey, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the love that had blossomed between you.

As you concluded your speech, you felt a rush of adrenaline. “Today, as we celebrate our achievements, let us remember that we are not just graduates. We are explorers, dreamers, and builders of our futures. And no matter where life takes us, the connections we make will always guide us forward.”

With that, you stepped back from the podium, applause crashing over you like waves. You took a moment to soak in the atmosphere, feeling exhilarated and relieved. The ceremony felt surreal, and you spotted Yuki standing, clapping enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with pride. Your heart swelled as you realized just how far you had come, from strangers to neighbors, from friends to a couple deeply supporting each other.

After the ceremony, you stepped off the stage, a mixture of relief and joy washing over you. Friends and family surrounded you, offering hugs and congratulations, but all you could think about was Yuki. You made your way through the crowd, your heart racing with anticipation.

Finally, you spotted him waiting for you, his face lighting up as your eyes met. He stepped forward, enveloping you in a warm embrace that felt like coming home. “You were incredible. I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

“Thank you! I couldn’t have done it without your support,” you replied, pulling back to look into his eyes. “It means so much to me that you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’ve achieved so much, and I’m honored to be part of your journey.”

You stood there, the noise of the crowd fading into the background, lost in the moment. It felt surreal to have him by your side after all that had happened. You had grown together, navigating challenges and triumphs hand in hand.

As the festivities continued around you, he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s next for us?”

You smiled, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Well, we have so many places to explore together! I’ve been wanting to go to this cute otter cafe in Harajuku but I didn’t want to go alone. But now that you’re here, I finally have a reason to go!” you excitedly tell him, while holding his hand and ushering him along to finally meet your family.

With laughter and shared stories, you both stepped back into the bustling crowd, ready to celebrate not just your accomplishments, but the journey ahead together. The day felt like the beginning of everything, a promise of more adventures, love, and support as you embraced the future together.

Epilogue:

The next weekend, after the whirlwind of graduation festivities, you and Yuki decided to treat yourselves to a day of fun. The thought of visiting the otter cafe in Harajuku filled you with excitement, and you could hardly contain your giggles as you made your way there.

When you arrived, the cafe was a cozy little haven filled with the soft sounds of water splashing and playful chirps from the otters. The friendly staff led you to a designated area where you could interact with the otters, and you could already see them swimming gracefully in their enclosure.

As you settled in, the otters began to take notice of Yuki. At 192 cm, he was an imposing figure, and it didn’t take long for a particularly adventurous otter to swim up to him. Without hesitation, it scrambled onto Yuki's shoulder.

“Uh, hello there,” Yuki said, trying to maintain his composure as the otter settled in. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Look at you! You’ve got an otter on your shoulder!” you teased, grabbing your phone to capture the moment.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” he replied, trying to gently nudge the otter off. But before he could, another otter climbed up his other arm, causing him to squirm slightly. “They’re really persistent!”

You were doubled over with laughter now, holding your phone up to record as one particularly bold otter made its way onto Yuki’s head. “Oh my gosh, this is the best!” you exclaimed, barely able to catch your breath.

“Please tell me this isn’t going to be on social media,” Yuki groaned, a mix of exasperation and humor in his voice as the otters seemed to make him their personal jungle gym.

You couldn’t resist. “I’m sending this to your sisters! They need to see their ‘tall otter’ brother in action!”

“Not my sisters! They’ll never let me live this down!” he protested, but the playful glint in his eyes betrayed how much he was enjoying the moment, even if he would never admit it.

“Look at them! They love you!” you laughed, your phone capturing every second of Yuki's predicament as the otters scampered up and down his arms, occasionally pausing to peer at him curiously. One even made itself comfortable on his head, causing him to tilt sideways in an attempt to balance.

“Why are they so drawn to me?” Yuki asked, feigning exasperation. “Am I some kind of otter magnet?”

You shook your head, tears of laughter forming in your eyes. “Maybe they think you’re a giant otter! Just look at that one on your head! You’ve become their throne!”

Yuki finally managed to free himself of one of the otters, only for another to take its place. “This is a nightmare!” he said dramatically, though you could see the hint of a smile lurking on his lips.

“More like a dream for me!” you replied, continuing to film. “Your sisters are going to love this!”

“Please, no more videos,” he pleaded, but you could see he was secretly amused, the way his shoulders relaxed even amidst the chaos.

As the hour went by, you enjoyed every second of Yuki's playful misery. The otters eventually climbed down, allowing him to regain his composure, but you couldn’t shake the laughter that had filled the space.

When it was finally time to leave the cafe, Yuki looked at you, shaking his head with a mock-serious expression. “You’re so mean, laughing at my plight. I’m going to hear about this for ages.”

You leaned closer, your heart full of warmth. “But you have to admit it was worth it. Besides, you looked adorable!”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Only you could make me enjoy being a human playground for otters.”

As you walked through the bustling streets of Harajuku, hand in hand, you felt a sense of joy radiating between you. The laughter, the shared moments, and even Yuki's good-natured misery made everything feel alive with possibilities. With every adventure, big or small, you knew that your bond was growing deeper, and you couldn’t wait for what lay ahead together.

Hi guys! I hope you guys enjoyed this writing, definitely longer than my first one but will definitely not be the last. If you guys have any suggestions or requests for stories, let me know! I am quite interested in writing stories for the other members, as well as people in the k-pop scene ♡ Don't forget to like and comment if you enjoyed reading this story!

#ishikawa yuki x reader #yuki ishikawa x reader #ishikawa yuki imagines #ishikawa yuki au #ishikawa yuki fluff #yuki ishikawa imagines #yuki ishikawa au #yuki ishikawa fluff #ryujin nippon #yuki ishikawa

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ilovedthestars · 7 months ago

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So i was bitten by the zine bug this semester and i keep thinking that a collaborative zine would be really fun to organize, especially one i could open up to my little corner of the internet. Not the shiny polished fandom zines that are really cool but also more of an anthology than a zine. I'm talking DIY photocopier and scissors zines--or as close as you can get over the internet, as the case may be.

The most fun and low stakes idea i have at the moment is a doodle zine. Like, what kinds of scribbles or shapes or little creatures do you draw in the margins of your notebooks? Fill a zine-sized page with them and send me a photo! Zero expectation of artistic skill or effort, just fill a page with marks and have fun.

And then i could stitch them together into both a digital zine file and a printable version you could use to make a paper copy. I think that would be a cool way to get as close to the physical collage vibes of a traditional zine as you can in a project that would obviously have to be conducted over the internet, where we can't just hand each other pieces of paper.

Anyway, i finally have both the motivation and the energy to potentially dive in to making this happen, but only if other people are actually interested. And this would look very different if 8 people want to participate vs. if 40 do. So:

Please feel free to reblog/spread this if you know others who might be interested! Right now this is just an idea i'm playing around with, but it might become a Real Thing very quickly if other people are also excited about it.

#stars has thoughts #polls #zine #zines #currently in the 'i've already got one foot fully in this project but i need to stop and make sure it's actually a good idea' phase #which involves seeing if anyone but me actually likes this idea lol #the current idea is that this would be super chill!#like i would accept all submissions unless they fundamentally misunderstood what this zine is about chill #this is specifically NOT an art zine and i don't want to Judge Entries #i would expand it to fit the level of interest rather than pare down #OK this is a gauging-interest poll i need to stop agonizing over the wording and post it

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ladyinwriting18 · 1 year ago

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Traditions (Flip Zimmerman x Reader)

Summary: It might be your first Hanukkah with your boyfriend Flip Zimmerman, but you're determined to make it one you both remember.

Words: 4794 Warnings: PIV, Oral sex (female receiving), Sex on Hanukkah. Sex on the kitchen floor.

When you awaken that winter morning, you find that Flip has already left for work. If you're being honest, you’re glad he’s on the early shift, it gives you more time to prepare. You smile to yourself, excited for the surprises you have planned for tonight… The first night of Hanukkah. You’re sure that Flip doesn’t even realize the date, but it doesn’t matter cause you’re doing all of this for him.

After going undercover to infiltrate the KKK, he’s been more drawn to his heritage, though he hasn’t allowed himself to fully dive in. You know it’s because he feels unworthy… After a lifetime of feeling indifferent about being Jewish, he feels like he’s intruding on something that should have been close to his heart from the start. What right did he have to his Jewish roots when others had sacrificed, bled, and stood proudly for them? But to you, there’s no right or wrong way for one to experience their religion. Just because Flip hadn’t grown up going to temple or having a bar mitzvah didn’t mean he didn’t have a right to the Jewish religion now. That’s why you’d done research at the library and the local temple, reading up and asking a rabbi for advice on properly celebrating Hanukkah. You wanted to give Flip this, wanted him to feel comfortable to explore this part of himself. Especially with you. And perhaps, if tonight went well, it would lead to the two of you celebrating Hanukkah again next year. You had done everything in your power to ensure that nothing would get in the way of that. Starting off with ensuring that Flip wouldn’t get stuck working late. A quick call to the chief informing him that not allowing one of his detectives to observe a religious holiday would probably sound really bad to a union representative had sealed that deal. The chief had claimed to enjoy your “spunk” in calling him behind Flip’s back, but either way, he promised to send “your lover boy” home at a decent time. Now came the fun part…decorating and cooking. You hop out of bed and quickly wash up to prepare for the day before heading downstairs. There’s a lot to get done and you’re a mix of nervous and excited. Excited to see his reaction, but nervous to screw things up. You’ve never cooked these recipes before. What if they turn out horrible? You try to shake off your nerves. They won’t stop you now. You would do your best for him and that was it. The first thing you work on is making the dough for the challah bread since it has to rise multiple times before it can be braided and then baked. At least…that’s what the recipe book said. You say a silent prayer before setting the dough to the side to rise, and then you get to work on a less nerve-wracking task—decorating the house. You hang long white fairy lights along some of the walls, drape blue tinsel over the fireplace mantel, and lay out Hanukkah-themed table runners along the coffee and kitchen tables. But you don’t stop there. Multiple candy bowls filled with chocolate gelt and dreidels are placed around the living room, knowing that Flip has a secret sweet tooth. You still aren’t fully clear on the rules of spinning dreidels but you’re certain the both of you could figure it out. That or just enjoy munching on chocolate. Either way, that isn’t the most important part of tonight. After your conversation with the rabbi, you learned that menorahs are usually passed down through families and generations. Knowing that wasn’t an option, you had searched every antique shop in town until you found something perfect—a beautiful brass menorah with the Star of David under the middle candle. You polish it until it shined and place it in the center of the coffee table with white candles. With the rabbi’s help, you had written out the prayer that is traditionally read while lighting a candle each night. Alongside the prayer is a yarmulke, in case Flip wants to wear it.

With the decorating done, you head back into the kitchen to start on dinner. Following along with the cookbook you borrowed from the library, you fry potato pancakes, otherwise known as latkes, roast potatoes, prep the brisket for the oven, and braid the challah dough. It isn’t long until the entire downstairs is filled with the most wondrous smells. You’re more excited now, certain that the smells are a good sign that the food will be equally delicious. Knowing you don’t have much longer before Flip gets home, you head upstairs to change. You want to look good but not overly fancy, so you decide on a simple black knee-length skirt with a soft, white cashmere sweater, and black, heeled boots. Pleased with how you look, you head back downstairs to finish everything up. You end up cooking until the very last minute, barely having time to plate all of the food before the sound of Flip’s car turning into the driveway. “Shit!” you curse and hurry to put everything out on the kitchen table along with the good china plates and a bottle of wine. The front door opens and you freeze in your spot, wanting him to find the surprise on his own. You listen to the sounds of him making his way inside, taking off his boots and jacket before setting them aside in the hallway closet. He calls your name… Tells you he’s home… Comments on how amazing dinner smells… Then his breath catches in his throat and all goes silent. Flip stands in the entryway of the living room, taking in the scene before him. The room is basked in a romantic, and yet inviting, glow, from the lights to the menorah and the other decorations. He stands there, jaw slack and too stunned to speak. What a lucky bastard he is. “Sweetheart? Get in ‘ere!” You do as you're told without hesitation, but the minute he sees you, he wraps you in his arms. “Babygirl, did you really do this all for me?” You smile up at him and nod. “Happy Hanukkah!” If you wanted to say more, it’s cut off by his kiss. It’s passionate, fiery, and all the things you love about him. “Wait, Flip! Wait!” you protest against his mouth in between giggles. “I have more to show you!” He chuckles in amusement and releases you from his hold but instead takes your hand. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.” “Good! Now, come on.” You take him into the kitchen and show him all the food you’ve made. “I followed the Jewish cookbook I got from the library exactly, so hopefully everything tastes good!” Flip cocks a brow in surprise. “They actually make Jewish cookbooks?”

“Uh-huh.” You blush, biting your bottom lip to try and stop the word vomit that’s building in your throat. Maybe you had misread the situation or done something offensive. “When…I spoke to the rabbi, he told me that menorahs are usually passed down from generation to generation, but…I know you didn’t have one.” You swallow hard, trying to gauge his reaction but still, you can’t seem to shut the hell up. “The one on the coffee table is an antique. Now you’ll have one forever, to pass on to your children.” You realize what you said a second too late and internally die a little. “That is…if um…you want to.” But Flip isn’t listening, because suddenly, he’s picturing the future. One where a four-year-old sits on his lap to help him light the next candle on the menorah while you watch with your belly filled with a second child. You squeeze his hand, he still seems to be in shock but you can’t be sure. “Is…Is this all okay? Did I…do alright?”

It’s the uneasiness in your tone that snaps him from his daydreams. He turns to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

He wants to reassure you, but he finds himself overcome with emotion. “I…don’t even know what to say. How did I get so damn lucky?” He tries to laugh to stop the tears that threaten to prickle his eyes. “Thank you…for doing all of this. Thank you for loving me enough to do all of this.” Your lips find one another again, but this time softer than before. His hands hold your face steady as you lovingly kiss. Your arms wrap around his middle, feeling more and more like melted butter by the second. “I love you, Flip Zimmerman. I just wanted you to feel accepted and safe to start your own traditions here with me.” “I do, Babygirl, I do.” He talks in between kisses as if it’s too painful to stop, “God I love you.” The kisses continue until the sound of his stomach growling pulls you apart. “Uh, Darlin’? Can we eat now? All I had was black coffee and cigarettes for lunch.” “Flip!” you scold and lightly smack his upper arm. He shrinks back, pretending to be wounded and holding his hands up in surrender, but all the while, he laughs. You glare at him with your hands on your hips. As wonderful of a boyfriend as he is, he’s still crap at taking care of himself. “Can you wait a few more minutes? We’re supposed to light the candles before we eat.” His laughter dies down, “Wow…you really weren’t kidding about researching this stuff.” His bewilderment and sincerity touch you, causing your hands to drop from your hips. “I had to make sure everything was perfect for your first Hanukkah.”

“You’re the one that’s perfect,” he states firmly before interlocking your fingers together. “Let’s go light our very first menorah.” Your heart swells at his words and the two of you walk back into the living room. The two of you sit in front of the coffee table where the menorah is set up. You hand him a yarmulke and a piece of paper with a prayer written on it. “The rabbi said this is the prayer to read while you light the candle.” Flip hesitates, not sure if he feels deserving of the honor. He hadn’t been the one who did all this work, you had. As if you can read his mind, you speak up. “If you aren’t comfortable, then we don’t have to. I know there’s a lot of new information here, but we can take it slow and make our own traditions. Don’t let the fact that I became a little overzealous with my research intimidate you. If you want to try this, then I’m right here with you.” Hearing you mention creating traditions together warms him. He leans forward and places a hand on your cheek. “You did more than I could possibly ask for. And yes…I want to try this. Just…don’t make too much fun of me mispronouncing the words in this prayer.” “I wouldn’t be able to tell if you did.” You chuckle and leave a kiss along the inside of his wrist. Taking a breath, he places the yarmulke on his head and does his best to recite the prayers. He stumbles over a handful of Hebrew words. It makes him feel self-conscious but you just smile reassuringly, nodding at him to encourage him to continue. With the prayer read and the candle lit, Flip takes your hand in his. You sit in silence together, watching the way the flame dances, causing the light to bounce along the walls. His gaze falls on you, his eyes sparkle with happiness at how peaceful you look basked in the candlelight. “I’m guessing tomorrow night, we light the second candle?” You nod before looking back at him. “Should we go eat now?” His back straightens fully at the mention of food. “I thought you’d never ask. My stomach’s been aching for a taste since I walked through the door.”

You playfully roll your eyes and stand. “Well then, we better go and get you some food. I can’t let my man go hungry.” You take him into the kitchen and tell him to make himself comfortable while you make him a plate filled with latkes, roasted potatoes, and brisket before making your own plate and sitting down. ‘Now, before we eat, you have to–” You hand him another piece of paper with two other prayers. “Read these. The first prayer is meant to be said before we cut the challah and the second before drinking the wine.” Flip reads both, doing so with a bit more confidence than before. A sense of pride fills him at repeating these words that have been said by countless generations of Jews. “That was wonderful,” you praise and then you both begin to eat. You watch him carefully, wanting to gauge his reaction to tasting the food. “Please be honest if something doesn’t taste good and I’ll practice to get better at it.” But the man sitting across from you is too busy moaning blissfully at the flavors filling his mouth. “Shit, babygirl, you’ve really outdone yourself.” You nearly dance in your seat from happiness. “I’m so glad! I was worried it wouldn’t taste good enough.” Flip extends his hand across the table and squeezes yours. “I’m not sure how I got so lucky in finding you, but I’m going to spend the rest of our lives showing you just how much you mean to me.” Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, beyond the point of euphoria. “Shhh, come on now, no tears. This is meant to be a happy occasion. Hanukkah is about keeping faith and miracles.” You raise a curious brow and he sheepishly chuckles. “You’re not the only one who’s been secretly reading up on the holiday.” The rest of the meal flows effortlessly, the both of you enjoying the food and one another’s company until he sits back in his chair with a contented sigh. It pleases you that you’ve made him so happy, but you have one more surprise for him. From your skirt pocket, you pull out a small black box and slide it over to his side of the table. “Flip?” The sound of his name catches his attention and he looks back to find the gift box. “Little One? What’s this?” “Open it and find out,” you reply in a sing-song voice that has him chuckling. He opens the box and finds a simple gold chain with the Star of David hanging from it. A small gasp of surprise leaves his full lips. He gapes at you, unsure of what to say. “I know you mentioned that you misplaced your old one while you were undercover because you had to take it on and off so much. I hope you like it.” He doesn’t have the words to express his gratitude as a swell of emotion starts to overcome him, so instead, he kisses you—hard. The kiss steals your breath away. So much so that you’re left dizzy. “Thank you, my love,” he whispers hotly against your mouth before sitting back down. Still dazed, you giggle slightly. “You’re welcome. Let me start cleaning up so we can spend the rest of our night relaxing.” Not waiting for a reply, you stand and carry a stack of dirty dishes to the sink.

Flip watches, slipping the yarmulke from his head and putting his gift around his neck before following you over to the kitchen sink. “Can I do anything to help you clean?”

You brighten at his offer, thankful for the help. “That would be great!” You hand him a dish towel with a cock of your hip. “I wash, you dry?” He agrees and the two of you get to work. Every once in a while, Flip playfully splashes you with sudsy water, laughing every time you huff in irritation. You’re adorable and he just can’t help himself. With the dishes done, you move on to wrapping up the leftovers and even pack some for his lunch tomorrow. “I’m going to be the envy of every guy in the squad room. They're all going to be wishing they had the chance to taste your cooking.” “I can pack you extra to share!” His hands find your hips, lovingly gripping them in his large hands before pulling you forcefully against him so your ass is pressed to his crotch. “Not a chance, Little One. It’s all mine…and so are you.” Without warning, he spins you around and crashes his mouth onto yours. You aren’t sure what’s got him so worked up, but truthfully? You don’t care. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in for more. Which he gladly gives by slipping his tongue into your mouth. A tiny moan leaves you from the sensation. Flip grins at the sound. You want more but he breaks the kiss. “Does my girl want more?” You nod, your pupils blown wide as you search his. “Please, Flip.” Your plea is enough for him, so he drops down to his knees before you. Grabbing your skirt, he bunches it up at your waist, pleased to see the damp spot that’s already started to form at the front of your panties. He runs the tip of his finger over it but avoids your clit. “Seems like you have something else for me to eat.” You whimper, now realizing what he means to do. “Hold your skirt up for me. I need my hands free.” You do as you're told but it feels so taboo to be standing here in the middle of the kitchen, exposing yourself to him. But you don’t have much time to think about it because he starts ripping off your shoes and panties. He looks up at you, looking incredibly smug, which only makes your cunt drip more. The moment you're bare, he pushes his nose to the cleft of your cunt, breathing in deep. His groans, eyelids fluttering as his cock jumps within the confines of his jeans. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet but rough, “You’ve done so much for me today. Now, you deserve to be worshiped.” He brings his hands to your ass, gripping it tight and pulling you close so he can drag his tongue through the folds of your cunt. The flat of his tongue makes you whine, your hand reaches for the counter ledge that’s just behind his head while the other keeps ahold of your skirt. “D-Don’t stop. Feels good. Y-Your tongue feels so good!” You're grinding into his mouth now, chasing more pleasure for yourself. Watching you sends shockwaves down his body. His cock throbs in his dark denim, aching for release. He reaches down to unzip his pants, moaning into your cunt as he frees himself. Precum drips from the tip of his cock down onto the floor. His fingers find their way to your slit, slowly pushing one…and then two fingers inside. You cry out, head tilting back as you moan into the ceiling at being stretched out by his thick digits. The legs holding you up begin to shake, but luckily, his other hand holds you at the base of your spine. You look down at him and catch sight of his hard cock, jutting up from the front of his jeans. “Oh. Oh fuck, Let me take care of you, Flip. Let me take care of your cock.”

But he only growls and picks up the pace of his fingers. He doesn’t want to hear your words, he only wants you to cum. The mixture of his tongue flicking at your clit and his fingers filling you up has you forgetting everything else. Your peak steadily starts to roll through you. “Right there! S-So close! I’m so close!” You can barely finish speaking before you’re cumming. The hand that had been holding your skirt shoots out to take hold of the counter, needing it for balance as your orgasm rocks through you. Your skirt falls over Flip’s head, but he doesn’t stop the movements of his tongue and fingers until your body starts to relax. He moans low in his belly at the taste of you, only removing his fingers and sitting back on his heels so he can check on you. Pushing your skirt off his head, he holds your gaze while fucking his fingers clean. Your cheeks burn with color and Flip chuckles with a grin. You just came all over his face while standing in the kitchen and you still have the decency to blush. You’re just too adorable and perfect. He pushes himself off the floor and grabs your face to claim your mouth again. You cling to his shoulders, body molding against his so you can feel his cock pushing against you. You start unbuttoning his plaid shirt, tugging at it aggressively to get him naked. “Take me? Right now. Right here.” “Naughty girl wants to be fucked on our kitchen floor that badly, huh?” You whine at his teasing but go quiet when you realize he’s guiding you both to the floor. He settles between the apex of your thighs, aligning his cock with your sopping hole. You wiggle against him in anticipation. “So needy for it. Here then—take it.” And with that, he plunges inside, groaning at the way your walls hug him tight. He gives you a moment to adjust, your toes curling at how deep even his first thrust is, but that moment doesn’t last forever, and soon he’s picking up his pace. You cry out and Flip revels in the sound. Gripping your hips, he slams into you until he’s certain he’s hitting your g-spot. Your back arches off the tile floor and you screw your eyes shut against the overwhelming pleasure. Usually Flip took his time to work you up to the point of total abandon. Sometimes even edging you so you’d beg, but not tonight. Tonight, he fucks you hard and fast like it’s the last time he’ll ever have the privilege of watching you cum. Your moans are drowned out by wet skin slapping together. Your cunt is so wet that you’ve managed to drip onto his balls and inner thighs. “Look at me,” he commands, using his authoritative ‘cop voice’. You do so and find his eyes blown black with lust and his face flushed with sweat. The sight takes your breath away. He looks positively feral. “I want to watch you fall apart. Want to see your soul leave your body just so it can come crashing back while you scream my fucking name.”

Your cunt clenches around him at his words. You love it when he talks like this. Filthy and possessive. His nostrils flare as he huffs hot breath across your skin. How he’s able to keep his stamina up is a mystery, but still, his thrusts are unrelenting. You can’t deny how much you love him laying claim to your body. “Yes! Fuck, Flip, yes!” you continue to moan a string of curses and pleas as you wrap your legs around his waist so you grind into his thrusts. With the change in the position of your legs, he too rearranges himself. He places his palms flat on the floor on either side of your head, completely leaning over you and driving his cock even deeper into your aching cunt. You didn’t think he could fill you up any more, but leave it to Flip Zimmerman to find a way. A pressure builds in your lower belly, tightening and threatening to crack open. However, your gift dangling from around his neck comes very close to hitting you in the face. He immediately notices and makes a move to pull back but you’re faster. Your hand reaches and presses the Star of David to Flip’s chest…directly over his heart. “I love you,” you breathe out, holding eye contact with him. “I want this forever. With you.” You swear he whimpers, emotion softening his features but all the while bucking harder into you.

“I want this too. Every Hanukkah. Every year together with you.”

A smile breaks out across your face and you use the chain around his neck to tug him to your mouth.

You both moan into the kiss, movements becoming sloppy.

He stumbles over your name before telling you how close he is. You echo his words back to him, knowing you’re moments away from being driven over the edge.

But that’s not good enough for Flip when he wants you to crash and burn beneath him. He brings one of his arms between your bodies to find your clit and strokes it just right.

Your body starts to shake.

You leave rational thought behind and all that is left is the primal need flowing through your limbs.

“That’s it. Come on baby, cum for me!”

You wouldn’t have been able to stop yourself even if you had wanted to. Your inner walls close in around him as you cum, holding him in place and hugging him tight.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” he grunts repeatedly until he’s tossing his head back in a howl and filling you with his cum.

You both rock against one another as you come down from your highs. Eventually, Flip slumps down to rest in the crook of your neck. The kitchen falls quiet except for the panting you’re both doing in an attempt to catch your breath.

He recovers before you and lifts his head to kiss your forehead before meeting your gaze. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You respond with a dreamy ‘uh-huh’, earning you a chuckle from the man still on top of you.

Carefully, he detangles himself from your legs and the heat of your cunt so he can lay beside you on the cool tile floor.

“Mind if we lay here for a bit? You wore me the hell out.” He chuckles and extends his arm so you can rest your head on his bicep.

“Wore YOU out? I’m the one who’s lying on the kitchen floor feeling like jelly.” You only mean to tease but his other arm finds its way around your middle.

With a playful growl, he hauls you to him, smashing your back into his chest. His large hand sprawls across your stomach, tickling you. You squirm, giggling, and look over your shoulder to kiss him.

The kiss halts his movements and instead has him humming against your lips. When the kiss is broken, he turns his attention to the junction of your neck. Pleased that he seems too preoccupied to continue tickling you, you finally rest your head on his bicep and close your eyes.

You relax within his embrace, enjoying the feel of his lips and facial hair as he leaves soft kisses along your flesh.

He whispers your name, causing your eyes to flutter open. You look over your shoulder at him again.

“I want to say thank you for everything you did for me tonight. You could have simply said ‘Happy Hanukkah’ to me and I would have been over the moon…but the fact that you did all this just for me blows me away.”

You can feel tears watering up behind your eyes but you hold them in so you can continue listening to what he has to say.

“And I…meant what I said before about wanting to spend every Hanukkah with you. Well…any holiday really. I want to spend them all together and make our own traditions, like you said.”

You can’t hold back for a moment longer. Twisting in his grasp, you turn over so you’re facing him and throw your arms around his shoulders.

“Oh, Flip, nothing would make me happier!”

He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly to him, and whispers that he loves you.

Another calm silence falls between you. To an onlooker, the scene would look peaceful if it wasn’t for the fact you were both half naked, lying on the hard kitchen floor.

But the two of you are too content to care about anything other than snuggling.

Time passes, and within the quiet, a devilish question comes to your mind.

“Flip?”

“Hm?” he responds.

“If we’re going to create our own traditions, does this mean you’ll fuck me on the kitchen floor at the end of every Hanukah meal?”

His back straightens as he looks at you in alarm until laughter emanates through his entire frame. “Naughty little slut,” he teases, giving your ass a swift smack.

You squeal and try to wriggle away, but he easily pins you down and tickles you until you’re breathlessly begging for mercy.

Eventually, he relents, but still keeps you pinned down to kiss you one last time. “Happy Hanukkah, babygirl.”

#lady in writing #adcu community #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman x reader #adcu smut

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