Training the following week carried new intensity. Juvia's magic responded with starlit precision, her water forms sharper, more lethal. Lucy noticed, praising her openly now in the guild and in private. Each "Well done, Juvia" fed the fantasies like kindling. In her mind, praise always ended the same way: Lucy pulling her close after a victorious spar, bending her over the training bench, and fucking her raw while the cheongsam's silk whispered against their skin.
Yet still they waited. The burn stretched longer, sweeter. Juvia's internal world of submission grew richer, more detailed—every fantasy layered with love, power, and the unbreakable bond they were forging in the light of day.
The guild continued to watch, smile, and wonder. And Juvia's heart whispered the truth louder every night: She is the one I need. Completely.
To be continued…