#At least this is a lesson I can learn twice | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gurugirl · 9 months ago

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Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

“So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2

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driverlando · 6 months ago

Text

✧.* #NUDEGATE

synopsis- Oscar accidentally posts a nude on his instagram story

before you continue: similar to the sex tape leak smau for lando! if you enjoyed please reblog and give me a follow <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

—

✧.* Oscar’s reaction

You and Oscar are lounging on the couch, enjoying a rare quiet afternoon together. The TV is on, but neither of you is really watching it. You’re curled up against him, scrolling through your phone, while he’s half-asleep, his arm wrapped around you.

Suddenly, Oscar’s phone rings, startling both of you. He fumbles to grab it from the coffee table, squinting at the screen. “It’s Zak,” he says, his voice tinged with confusion. He answers the call, putting it on speaker.

“Oscar, mate, you need to check your Instagram story right now,” Zak’s urgent voice fills the room.

Oscar sits up, wide awake now. “What? Why?”

“Just do it,” Zak insists. “You’ve posted something you shouldn’t have.”

Your heart drops as you both realise what this might mean. Oscar quickly opens his Instagram, his fingers shaking slightly. He taps on his story and his face goes pale. “Oh my God,” he mutters.

You peek over his shoulder and see it—a very revealing photo that’s definitely not meant for public eyes. “Oh no,” you breathe, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Delete it, Oscar. Now,” Zak commands.

Oscar doesn’t need to be told twice. He quickly deletes the story, his hands moving in a blur. “It’s gone,” he says, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry, Zak. I didn’t realize…”

Zak’s tone is exasperated but with a hint of amusement. “Oscar, you might want to double-check before you post anything in the future. Your fans probably didn’t expect to see that.”

Oscar groans, dropping his phone onto the sofa. “I can’t believe I did that.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Well, you did say you wanted to give your fans a closer look at your life.”

He shoots you a horrified look before bursting into laughter. “Not that close!”

Zak’s voice comes through the speaker, chuckling. “Look, just be more careful next time. And maybe invest in some clothes.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, still laughing. “Got it, Zak. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Anytime. And Oscar, maybe don’t make this a regular thing, yeah? We’re trying to win races, not start an OnlyFans,” Zak says before ending the call.

Oscar drops his head into his hands, still laughing. “I can’t believe this.”

You wrap your arms around him, grinning. “At least we know your followers are getting a lot of exposure to their favourite driver.”

He groans, his face flushing again. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

You kiss his cheek. “Probably not. But hey, now you’ve got a funny story to tell.”

He sighs, pulling you closer. “Only if you promise to never let me use Instagram unsupervised again.”

You laugh. “Deal. And maybe we should stick to cute couple selfies from now on.”

Oscar nods, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Or maybe… I should make sure all my posts have wardrobe approval from you first.”

You grin. “I can work with that.”

—

SCANDAL ON THE GRID: Oscar Piastri’s Instagram Mishap

By: Sasha, Rumour Radar

In a hilarious yet shocking turn of events, McLaren’s rising star Oscar Piastri has become the latest cautionary tale for digital privacy and social media blunders. Early yesterday morning, fans got more than they bargained for when Piastri accidentally posted a revealing photo to his Instagram story, sending the F1 community into a frenzy. The incident has drawn comparisons to similar celebrity slip-ups, such as Chris Evans’ infamous social media mishap.

The mishap was quickly addressed in a series of tweets by Piastri himself. The first tweet, brimming with sheepish humour, read: “So… that wasn’t supposed to happen. Apologies to everyone. Lesson learned: double-check before posting. #SorryMum”

Just minutes later, he followed up with a more serious note on the importance of digital security: “On a serious note, let’s talk about digital privacy. Make sure you’re securing your accounts and double-checking before you post. Lesson learned. #StaySafeOnline”

As if the situation wasn’t already comedic gold, Piastri’s McLaren teammate and fellow prankster, Lando Norris, couldn’t resist adding his comment. “Oh Oscar mate, you need lessons on how to use Instagram properly. Always give your phone to a responsible adult if you’re not sure,” Norris retweeted Piastri to ensure the ribbing hit home.

To top it all off, Piastri’s model girlfriend, Y/N, chimed in with her own playful jab: “I literally leave him alone for a minute and this is what happens…”

Insiders close to the couple revealed that Zak Brown, McLaren’s CEO, was the first to alert Piastri to the accidental post, calling him in a tone that was reportedly both urgent and amused. “Oscar, mate, you need to check your Instagram story right now,” Brown had said, trying to suppress laughter while maintaining his authoritative stance.

Despite the embarrassing slip-up, fans were quick to rally around Piastri, appreciating his candid and humorous approach to the situation. “At least we know he’s human!” one fan tweeted, while another quipped, “This is why Oscar Piastri is my favourite—he’s real, he’s relatable, and he’s hilariously unfiltered.”

The incident has sparked a flurry of memes and jokes across social media, solidifying Piastri’s place not just as a talented driver, but as a beloved personality in the F1 world.

While the dust settles on this unexpected reveal, Piastri’s misadventure serves as a humorous reminder of the perils of social media. As the young driver himself advised, securing your accounts and double-checking before posting is a lesson everyone can take to heart.

As for Piastri, it seems he’ll be keeping a much closer eye on his phone from now on, with a little help—and a lot of teasing—from his friends and family.

Stay tuned to Rumour Radar for the latest updates on this unfolding story and more celebrity gossip.

—

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, logansargeant and 207,256 others

oscarpiastri me when I got a call from Zak to check my Instagram story 😅 Thanks for the support, everyone. And to McLaren for not firing me.

view all 9,268 comments

user1 I wish I was a fly on the wall during that conversation with Zak 🤣

oscarpiastri I promise I’m a responsible person btw!!

↳ yourusername sure honey, sure

user2 you’re such a grandpa when it comes to technology

yourusername Still can’t believe you managed to do this 😭

↳ user3 was he trying to send you the nude or something 😂

↳ user4 they’re kinky af, he was definitely sending her a pic

user5 where can I see this nude? 👀

↳ user6 search up #nudegate on twitter, it’s trending

↳ user5 HOLY SHIT! good to know he keeps a stubble down there 🥵

↳ user6 I don’t even wanna know how big he is erect, like that man is hungggg

logansargeant only you 😂

—

✧.* Y/n loves adding fuel to the fire

—

mclaren

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 187,268 others

mclaren nothing to see here, just two guys who love keeping our pr team on their toes #sendhelp

view all 2,618 comments

landonorris why he say fuck me for?

↳ user7 please you know exactly why 😂

oscarpiastri whoops, hey that’s why we have a pr team right?

user8 just a couple of besties 🫶

oscarpiastri is it roast Oscar day or something?

↳ yourusername after the stunt you pulled…yes.

user9 the best duo!! 😂

user10 mclaren pr have the patience of a saint 😭

—

✧.* Lando finally gets his payback

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smut #formula one smau #f1 smau #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri oneshots

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covenofagatha · 2 months ago

Text

Two professors and a student (Part 7)

Word count: 3100

Warnings: overstimulation, scissoring, strap-on, sex toys, use of safeword, smut, fluff at the end, degradation and praise, crying, aftercare

A/N: this is for everyone who requested major overstimulation lol also I think this will probably be the last chapter in this story unless i'm randomly in the mood to write more. hope everyone enjoys!

It feels like it’s been an hour before they come back into the bedroom, where you are tied up and completely at their mercy, but you know that realistically, it hasn’t been that long.

What you do know is that you’ve cum four more times, despite your hardest efforts to stave off each orgasm; trying to fight the build up because you don’t know how many more you can take.

Each time, your entire body seizes up and you let out a loud whine, hips moving furiously without your consent. You can feel the wetness literally leaking out of your hole and your clit is starting to hurt. You’ve tried desperately to untie your hands yourself but each time you’ve gotten close, you’re sent into another orgasm from the direct stimulation and it undoes all your progress.

The door opens right as number five is weakly washing over you and both Agatha and Rio smirk at your thoroughly ruined state.

“Please, please, it’s too much!” You cry, tears fully running down your face at this point.

Rio tuts and slowly makes her way over to you, tracing a line up your sweaty thigh and her light touch makes you practically keel over. “Look at her, Agatha, she was begging to cum and now she wants to stop.”

You sob, your entire body trembling.

“Do you think she’s learned her lesson?” Agatha asks Rio, and it’s like you aren’t even in the room.

Rio thinks for a moment and then reaches down and unties your legs so the vibrator is no longer being forced against you. You immediately scooch away from it and it feels like you can finally breathe, although you can still feel your pussy tingling, phantom vibrations still racking through your worn-out body.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Agatha asks, cupping your cheek and rubbing the tears away. She makes quick work of untying your hands as well. You nod, completely and utterly spent.

Rio chuckles darkly and you know whatever she’s about to say is going to be wicked. “I don’t know, Aggie, I think she has at least one more in her.” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops, but your heart jumps despite yourself. You still desperately want their hands on you.

Agatha pretends to think hard for a minute. “You know, Rio, if you think about it, we denied her twice today. I think it’s only fair that we make up for that now. What do you think, baby?”

But your breaths come out sharply. “I don’t know if I can, I don’t know if I can take any more.” You know that they are going to be the deaths of you.

Rio coos mockingly and runs a finger through your folds, eyes lighting up when your hips buck involuntarily. “You sure about that, doll?”

“If it gets too much, just say ‘cake,’” Agatha reassures softly, reminding you of the safeword you had picked out, and bends down to peck at your lips. “You want to be a good girl for us though, don’t you? Let us give you two more.”

You nod, already feeling your pussy leaking at the thought, betraying you. “Okay,” you whisper hoarsely. Agatha moves down the bed to where Rio is standing, facing your open legs, and taps her finger to her chin.

“Look at how pretty that pussy is, Rio,” Agatha says, and Rio hums in agreement. “Mama wants to feel it.” Hearing her call herself that makes you clench around nothing but your brows furrow in confusion: she’s already felt you, what does she mean?

But then Agatha hikes up her dress and slides her underwear off before crawling on the bed over to you. She pushes open your legs, angles one up, and puts one of hers over your hip. Your heart skips a beat. Surely she isn’t–

And then she grinds down and her cunt slides against yours and an embarrassing loud noise rips out of your mouth.

“God, baby, your pussy is so perfect, feels so good,” Agatha moans, moving slowly at first. You can feel everything and it is killing you in the best way. Her wetness slick against your skin, her folds, her clit, it’s so much.

And then Rio positions herself behind you, lifting you up so you can rest your head against her stomach and watch Agatha ride you.

You whine and try to roll against the older woman too, the need for pleasure steadily climbing back inside you even though you thought it wouldn’t, but Rio reaches down with one hand and holds your hips down.

“Let her take what she needs, doll,” Rio says into your ear. Agatha groans on top of you and you can feel more of her wetness gushing out, only making it easier for her to move.

The direct stimulation is a lot, even more so now, after you’ve cum so many times, but you can’t deny how good it’s feeling.

And then Rio wraps her other hand around your throat, gently squeezing the sides, and your back arches, forcing your clit up against Agatha’s on a particularly hard rut and it makes you moan so deeply you feel it in your chest.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you chant, not even comprehending the words coming out of your mouth, the slight pressure on your throat making you dizzy, Agatha’s bare cunt against yours making you feel a way you’ve never felt before. Tears are falling from your eyes again and they blur your vision but you quickly swipe at them so you can watch Agatha moving up and down.

Her rhythm is starting to get sloppy and you can see a flush on her upper chest spreading to her neck. Her hair is messy and she tosses it over her shoulder, making you clench around nothing.

“Sweetheart, you feel so good, you’re going to make me cum,” Agatha pants, hips stuttering and jerking, trying to keep up a pace but failing.

You can also feel the tug in your lower stomach, the same feeling you’ve now already felt seven times today. Rio squeezes your throat one last time and that’s it.

Whimpering is the only thing you can do as the wave crashes over you weakly, and Agatha shudders on top of you as she also cums with small gasps.

She slumps forward, catching herself with her arms on either side of your body, and leans down to capture your lips in a long kiss. Her hair falls around your face and it tickles.

“You doing okay, baby?” She whispers against you and you smile and nod, completely blissed out. All the thoughts in your head disappeared around orgasm number four and now there’s only these two women and you in the whole world.

“Is it my turn now?” Rio asks from above you, interrupting whatever moment you and Agatha were having. Agatha tilts her head up to smirk at her partner and kisses her too, hard and filthy. When Agatha slips her tongue into Rio’s mouth, you genuinely have to bite back a moan.

And then Rio clasps her cheeks and it’s like they’re trying to eat each other’s faces and for some reason, it reignites the fire in your stomach. You undulate your hips ever so slightly, the movement against nothing somehow bringing you closer to the edge.

You start breathing heavily, still working your hips, and you can hear the smacking sounds of their lips, their little moans. You can see their teeth knock against each other, their tongues tangling. It’s one of the hottest things you've ever witnessed and when Rio groans as Agatha sucks on her lip, you orgasm again.

It’s small, just a tremor, but there’s no denying what it is.

You can hear Rio chuckle as they both look down at you and you can feel your face heating up.

“Did you just cum from watching us make out?” Rio asks, amusement curling around her tone.

You try to look anywhere else to escape their smirks but you give in. “Maybe,” you mutter. “Can that count as my second one?”

Agatha tosses her head back and barks out a laugh. “Oh, no, baby. That was just an extra. It’s Rio’s turn now.”

The younger woman crawls backwards and your head drops down to the bed. You feel like you’re floating and you can vaguely hear her rummaging around behind you.

Agatha brushes your hair and lightly strokes your cheek while you wait and even that little touch makes you wince. Your entire body feels so wrung out but also so sensitive.

And then Rio steps back into frame with a harness and a strap-on and you heave out a breath. You don’t even have the strength to formulate a sentence and instead you just babble something incoherently.

“You don’t have to,” Rio says, concern evident in her voice, but you shake your head.

“M’okay, I can do it,” you insist, still slurring, and she gently pulls you by your ankles so your hips are at the edge of the bed and she’s standing between your legs.

She rubs her cock up and down your slit, pressing the tip against your clit, and you let out a guttural sound and your body involuntarily jerks. “You’re just so desperate for us, aren’t you? Willing to take whatever we give you because you’re such a good girl for us, right?”

You nod, unable to speak when she slides the tip into you. It goes in easily with how wet you are and your mouth falls open. The stretch is so good it’s almost painful and you gasp out your breaths.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Agatha purrs. “Tap me if it’s too much.” And she slowly slips two fingers into your mouth. You groan and begin sucking on them while Rio begins to push into your cunt. You bite down on Agatha from the feeling just enough for her to hiss but then she starts to match Rio’s leisurely thrusts.

Having the double stimulation from Rio’s cock and Agatha’s fingers in sync has on you a different planet.

“All this because you just had to misbehave,” Rio tsks, fucking into you harder but just as slow. “Again. You’d think you’d learn your lesson after the first time.”

You make a muffled cry as she circles your clit with a featherlight touch and your hips buck.

“Maybe she likes this,” Agatha says thoughtfully. “Acting out because she knows what’ll happen. Because she wants this to happen.”

Rio chuckles, beginning to pick up her pace and Agatha shoves her fingers deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You are so ruined that all you can do is just lie there and take it.

“One or two orgasms isn’t enough for our baby doll,” Rio taunts and snaps her hips harshly, a muted cry clawing its way out of your mouth around Agatha’s fingers. “She’s insatiable. That’s why she pushes us until we have no choice but to give her what she wants.”

“You hear that, sweetheart?” Agatha says, voice dripping with sugar. “This is what you wanted.” Her fingernails scrape against your tongue and you nod furiously, tears pouring out of your eyes.

Rio presses harder on your clit and you mewl, your entire body squirming and lurching forward with the impact of her thrusts.

“You look so pretty like this doll, like our little plaything,” Rio says hotly and you can hear the exertion in her voice. “Aggie’s fingers in your mouth, my cock in your cunt. God, wanna take a picture and frame it. Our desperate little girl is being ruined.”

Moans of agreement enthusiastically leave your mouth and Agatha smirks above you.

“Look at her being shameless about it,” she says, amusement lacing her tone. “She can’t even deny how badly she wants us.”

Rio shoves one of your legs up and holds it with her hand so she can get in deeper and you yelp when her cock feels like it’s hitting your cervix and then her other hand digs into your waist so hard you know you’re going to have marks. But the sting momentarily clears the fog in your head and you flick your tongue at Agatha’s fingers that are still fucking your mouth.

Despite having cum so many times already, you can feel that pressure building up in you again. It feels like you’re going to pass out, but you stop trying to fight it and let your body slowly be taken towards the edge.

“God, Rio, I think we’ve fucked all the thoughts out of her head,” Agatha laughs, your eyes dazing over as you start to surrender. “Our best student can’t even form a sentence now cause we’re fucking her so good.” Rio huffs and pounds into you even harder and Agatha’s fingers curl against your tongue.

You start to garble around Agatha, trying to tell them that you’re getting close, but you’re not sure they actually understand you. You can barely tell what you’re trying to say.

But Rio smirks, so maybe she does. “Imagine if we kept her on edge and didn’t let her cum, Aggie,” she says evilly and you can see the interest on Agatha’s face. But your eyes widen more than they ever have and you frantically shake your head. “I think our doll is trying to say something.”

Agatha simpers and pulls her fingers out of your mouth with a wet pop and wipes your saliva all over your face.

“Well?” She demands expectantly. “Do you want us to do that? You said you didn’t think you could take more, so we don’t have to give it to you.”

Taking a deep breath of air, the words come pouring out of your mouth. “No, no, please, I can take it, please make me cum, I need it, need to cum.”

Rio smirks and keeps up her same bruising pace and Agatha reaches down and pinches at your nipples roughly. You practically howl at the combination of pleasure and pain and it sends you straight over the edge.

You don’t even know how many times you’ve cum at this point.

But you know that you can’t take any more after this and you look forward to being able to calm down.

Except Rio just keeps fucking you. The glint in her eye tells you she wants to see how much more you can take, but your body aches. Agatha’s hands tug and roll your nipples and it’s too much.

“Cake,” you gasp and they both instantly stop. Rio gently pulls out of you and you wince at the empty feeling. Agatha strokes your hair while you take deep breaths and try to calm your shaking body.

Rio grabs a blanket from the chair and wraps it around you while they position themselves around you, arms stroking up and down your body.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Agatha asks softly. You make a soft sound of affirmation and rest your head against her chest. “You did so well for us, baby. You’re such a perfect girl.” She peppers kisses all over your face and your heart swells.

“Hey, why don’t we get you in the bath?” Rio suggests. “Let’s get you all nice and warm and cleaned up.” You nod and they slowly help you stand on your trembling legs and walk you over to the bathroom.

They sit you on the toilet seat while the water gets hot, mumbling sweet praises and brushing your hair soothingly.

“Careful, baby,” Agatha warns, both of them taking one of your arms to help guide you down into the tub. You sigh happily at the warm water on your skin and Agatha delicately runs a washcloth over your skin while Rio washes your hair.

“You took that so well,” Rio says, uncharacteristically gentle, but there’s something about it that makes you swoon. “We’re so proud of you, doll. You’re always such an angel for us.” You mumble out a thank you, still not having the strength to speak yet.

They let you soak in the tub for a bit until the water gets cold and you start shivering. Agatha pulls you out while Rio dries you off. They help you step into pajamas that you’ve been keeping at their house.

“Does that make up for this entire week?” Rio jokes and you splutter out a laugh.

“Yes, more than enough,” you say, your voice still a little raspy. While all you wanted was some attention from your two favorite women, you had no idea that it would lead to this.

But there’s no denying that they made up for the lost time.

“Do you need anything to eat or drink?” Agatha says. You say no, but she goes and gets you some gatorade and peanut butter crackers anyway. The food and drink makes you feel instantly better and you have a surge of renewed energy.

Instead of leading you to their bed, which is soaked with your cum and sweat and probably tears, they take you down the hall into the guest room. You keep eating and sipping on the gatorade while they quickly take off the duvet.

“We can turn on the TV if you want,” Rio offers, pulling back the sheets and motioning for you to slide in them. The silk is soft against your skin but all you want is them.

You pat the spaces next to you and they chuckle and obey. “Can we just cuddle?” You ask, voice small.

“Of course, baby,” Agatha purrs and her and Rio both wrap their arms around you so you’re cozier than you’ve ever been. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You nod against her chest. “Yeah, that was perfect. I’m okay. I really like you guys.” And then you stiffen at opening up like that. There is no indication that they want more than sex with you and you just went and said that.

But then Rio kisses your earlobe. “We really like you too, doll.”

You squirm happily between them. “So we can keep doing this?”

“Of course, baby. Maybe tomorrow we can go out to a nice dinner. Like a date,” Agatha says and you swear you could burst right now.

“I’d like that,” you admit quietly, smiling to yourself.

Agatha cups your cheek and presses a chaste kiss to your lips and Rio does the same after.

“Now get some sleep, baby,” Agatha says. “You really need it.”

Chuckling slightly at how true her words are, you drift off in no time, feeling more content than ever with the possibilities of a future with them yet to come.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha x rio #agathario x reader #rio vidal x agatha harkness #rio vidal x reader #rio x reader #agathario

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parkersbliss · 2 months ago

Note

if you’re willing to, how about 141 reacting to you saying “no one will hear you scream”? i know they’d all play the biggest uno reverse card, especially gaz because he just has such a sweet face you wouldn’t expect it.

I am always willing to!!! anon thank you for blessing me with this. you're so right like don't threaten the military men who are masters of stealth, now that's asking for trouble...

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x reader

warnings: um, gaz threatening you? actually, all of them threatening you bc you threaten them

a/n: see me personally I would not mess with this. and certainly not price.

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

SEE TIKTOK HERE

—

Gaz:

It was easy to convince Kyle to come out here. In fact, he didn’t even think twice when you asked to go out on a hike. He had grabbed a light jacket, laced up his boots, and was out the door. He was an outdoorsman, after all, and any time he could spend with you was well spent. You weren’t going to hear an argument out of his pretty mouth.

It’s nicer this time of the year. Not too hot and not too cold with the leaves changing into the sunset colors. Honestly, you were glad you had come out here, even if it was because you had other intentions than some fresh air.

You were lagging behind Kyle, his hand flexing and calling for yours. You jog to grab his when you notice, swinging them as you approach a viewpoint.

You can overlook the area below you, coming up on a small cliff that showcases the changing leaves and sun. There’s a slight breeze that ruffles your hair, making the tips of your ears a little cold.

“It’s so beautiful,” Kyle breathes, taking in the view.

You nod, gazing out at the leaves tumbling in the wind. Then, with a practiced ease, you say: “No one would hear you scream out here.”

Kyle steps back from the edge, whipping around to look at you. “What?”

“What?” You ask dumbly.

“Don’t “what” me.” He points a finger at you. “I heard that shit.”

You step toward him, feeling guilty when you see his face. “Kyky-” you call.

“Nope!” He grabs something from his pocket, pointing it at you.

You put your hands on your hips, scoffing and stepping back. “You brought a taser?”

“And I’m not afraid to use it.” He continues to point the weapon at you as you take steps back. You were messing with your boyfriend, but your boyfriend was not messing with you.

“Babe, it was a joke!” You protest.

He narrows his eyes. “Oh, not so funny now, huh? No one could hear you scream.”

“Kyle!” You hiss at that, his point made.“Please put the taser away.”

“Please don’t threaten me,” he retorts, but relents and slips the taser back into his pocket.

“Why do you even have that?”

Kyle shrugs. “You never know. As you just proved.”

“Oh my god,” You said, walking back over to him tentatively. Once you’re close enough, he grabs your waist pulling you to his side. “Don’t ever say that shit again,” he whispers.

You glance at the taser in his pocket. “Lesson learned.”

Kyle smiles, kissing your cheek. “Ice cream?”

Ghost:

You take a deep breath, letting the crisp autumn air fill your lungs. It’s cold, cutting through the skin of your throat, yet at the same time it’s comforting. It’s much better than the humidity-laced air of summer at least. Where each breath you took felt like you inhaled oven air.

Simon glances over at you, cocking his head to silently ask what you were doing.

“Just taking in the air,” You said. “’s nice.”

He hums an agreement, walking along the stream you two were hiking. A few birds were chirping, leaves crunching under your boots, and the sound of water running over rocks. It’s a quiet you’re not used to from being in the military. That still doesn’t stop the idea from forming in your head.

“No one would hear you scream out here,” You muse, falling in step beside Simon. You say it casually, not looking at him. You act as if you had just asked where he wanted to get dinner tonight.

Simon, of course, is aware of everything. He stops walking, turning to you at an agonizingly slow pace. “Excuse me?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.” And continue along the trail.

He doesn’t follow you. You can tell when his footsteps aren’t echoing yours, a little slower and more steady. Instead, they fall silent on deaf ears. You can’t hear anything and the hair on the back of your neck stands up at the sudden stillness of the forest.

“Simon?” You call, turning to face him. And of course, he’s gone. You curse under your breath, spinning around to find him. You walk back to where he was, checking around the trees and the bushes. You shouldn’t threaten a lieutenant, the master of infiltration nonetheless. You peek around another tree, trying to get a view of him when a hand grabs your shoulder. You scream, throwing the hand off your shoulder and raising your fists. You come face to face with your boyfriend and drop your hands.

Simon stares at you, a deadpan look on his face with arms crossed. “What was that about no one hearing me or, should I say you scream?”

You swat at him. “It was a joke.”

“Damn right, it was. You think you could take me?” He begins walking again, offering his hand to you. He was a true gentleman even after he pulled that stunt. You really needed to learn to keep your eyes on him.

You lace your fingers together, sighing. “No.”

Simon is content with the answer, placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Let’s finish this hike without any other threats, hm, sweetheart?"

“It was a joke.”

“Mine wasn’t.”

“Simon—!”

Soap:

Johnny took convincing to go out for a walk. He was more inclined to spend his days on the couch, relaxing next to you. Not some boring “walk for fresh air.” He would argue he’d already gone on plenty of walks while deployed.

You dragged him out anyway, saying it’ll be good for him to do one without worrying about being shot at.

So here you are, on a quiet trail in your local park, pointing at the various colored leaves and their unique shapes.

“This is stupid,” Johnny said, kicking at a pinecone on the ground and sending it flying.

You roll your eyes, squeezing his hand, which was intertwined with yours in his jacket pocket. “You could humor me a bit.”

“What good would that do?”

You huff. “I actually quite like it out here.”

“‘m sure you do, love.”

You tap your chin with your free hand. An idea forming in your head to spice things up a bit. Or at least raise the stakes for your walk. “Like, no one would hear you scream out here, you know?” A mischievous grin curls on your lips as you look at Johnny with innocence.

“What?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed. He knew what you said, just hadn’t quite processed the implications yet.

“I said, we can go get ice cream. As a peace offering.”

Johnny removes his hand from yours, taking a step back. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t want ice cream?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. I’m actually tired. Thinking we should head back now.”

You jut your bottom lip out, enjoying the slight panic on his face. “Already?”

He spins on his heels. “Yep! Right now. Let’s go. Back in public. With people.” He urges, walking away from you at a brisk pace.

You laugh to yourself, jogging after him. He glances at you over his shoulder, clearly paranoid and you feel a little bad about it. His pace quickens and within seconds, he’s out of your line of sight and you sigh. Damn him.

You exit the trail, and back into the regular park, squinting your eyes to spot your boyfriend. You can’t find him anyway, which is weird because his mohawk makes him unmissable.

A hand taps your shoulder and you jump.

“Oh, relax,” Johnny said, holding out an ice cream cone for you. “We’re out of the woods now. Everyone would hear you scream here.”

You take the ice cream from him, glaring at him and his smug look as he remixes your words against you. “Not funny.”

“Now imagine how I felt. Except I wouldn’t really have a problem if people heard.”

“We’re going home.”

Johnny laughs madly, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “That’s all I wanted.”

Price:

You stand at the end of your hike, overlooking the view beneath you. The cliff dips into a valley, scattered with red and orange trees, the telltale sign of the approaching cold. The sun sits high in the sky, blessing you with a little warmth as the clouds drift through the breeze.

Price stands next to you, hands on his hips like a proud dad after completing the hike. He pushes his sunglasses to sit on his forehead, taking a deep breath.

“We should do this more often,” he said.

“We should,” you agree, watching a pair of hawks circle and dive. “It’s so peaceful out here.”

“So quiet,” Price added.

You hum. “No one would hear you scream.”

You knew the risk of saying something like that to your boyfriend, but you couldn’t help it. A little challenge for him.

Price doesn’t hesitate, he takes a step back from you, putting considerable distance between the two of you. His eyes scan the trees, the valley below, the space behind you — he’s clearly checking for any threats.

You take a step toward him and he holds up his hand. “No. Empty your pockets.”

“What?” You asked with a laugh.

“You wanna say shit like that? Empty your pockets,” He said again.

You stare at him, and you can see the serious look on his face. Within the minute you had uttered that sentence, you already regretted it. Leave it to John Price to take everything so seriously. Even when it was his girlfriend who could never hurt him. You sigh, dropping your phone, wallet, keys, tissues, and everything else. You stare at him. “Happy?”

“Hands up.”

“John!”

“Not hearing you out, darling.”

You begrudgingly raise your hands as he steps towards you, patting you down and inspecting the things you’ve dropped. “It was a joke.”

“Am I laughing?” His hands come to rest on your shoulders, squeezing them slightly. “Believe me, darling. You wouldn’t be able to scream before I drop you.”

You spin around to face him, a shocked look on your face. He had gotten you there. Price wouldn’t be stupid enough to let you make any noise.

“It was a joke,” He mocks you, a sly grin on his face.

You purse your lips, grabbing your things off the ground. “Point made.” Price grabs the rest of your belongings, handing them to you with that sweet smile of his.

“C’mon, let’s hike back down. We can go to your favorite sandwich place.” He places a hand on your back, leading you off the cliff.

“As long as you don’t slip poison into it.”

“No promises.”

-- END --

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mimasroom2 · 6 months ago

Text

My tennis star! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Secretly dating jock!ellie

C/w: smut but for like 2 seconds. Mention of weed lol. Uhh that’s it this is pretty laid back. This is my first time using those fake texting things I think I like it? Idk

W/c: ≈ 800

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

- She plays tennis bc I said so 🎾

- She’d win a match and she’d post on her instagram story something REAL cheesy like “only reason why we won is because someone special was in the crowd💖” and everyone thinks she’s talking ab a guy but it’s really you >•<

- She’d pull you aside into an empty hallway and lean over you with her arm up (yknow. The classic masc move.) and whisper “You comin’ to the game tonight, baby?”

- It’s so fucking cheesy but you swear she makes your knees weak every time she talks with her sexy ass voice.

- “Too bad I can’t have a massive ass sign that says your name on it all big or something.” You grin widely and she laughs, leaning in to give you a soft kiss.

- You guys go on dates to the mall so she can buy new workout clothes & equipment. Every time you guys see someone you know in a store you split up and pretend to be looking at different things on other ends of the store. Eventually when they leave you two come back together and giggle.

- “Heya stranger.” She grins, showing you some knee high socks she found while she was pretending to look around.

- Only your two best friends know ab you and Ellie, so you’re always having to make up excuses as to why you’re going to the tennis games.

- “They needed help with grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for the game, and you know I always need more service hours!”

- “Man I’m sorry I can’t go to the movies tonight. I already told the tennis coach I’d do face painting for the little kids that come😕”

- You’re studying at your desk when the first message from Ellie absolutely jumpscares you. The girl really needs to learn about context 🙄

- Absolutely all the girls in the crowd and on the opposing team would swoon over her. She lovesssss the attention and always waves at the crowd and blows kisses to them. Sometimes she winks at the girls on the other team to purposefully distract them as they’re serving. You don’t feel jealous though because you know as soon as the game’s over you’re going back to her place to celebrate ;)

- You feel so fucking lucky you’re dating a jock as her toned muscular arm is pumping in and out of you.

- “Fuck,, guess all that racket swinging comes in handy when I’m fucking you, hm?” She smirks, and she was actually right. She could practically finger you forever and never get tired.

- She’s a perfectionist with her playing and in bed. She’d have to make you cum at least twice before she’s satisfied.

- The next morning Ellie has to leave early for practice so she lets you stay in her room to sleep in. She texts you a WHOLE BUNCH, effectively spamming your phone and waking you up:

- She comes up to you one day out of the blue and says “Hey y/n, I’m like so serious can you hide all my stoner shit until this season is over…?” You knew she smoked but she told you she only does it when she’s off in tennis, so you’re surprised when she hands you a shoebox full of all her stuff.

- “Yeah ‘m fine. Coach has been gettin’ on to me. Jus’ more stressed out is all.” Is all she has to say when you ask about it. She runs her hands through her hair, thinking you’re frustrated with her. You’re just glad she trusts you enough to make her keep her promises to herself.

- She’d ask you what your favorite color is and get a special racket in that color for whenever you see her play. She’d say it’s her lucky racket :,)

- You were never super into sports but you loveeeee spending time with Ellie, so she decides to give you some one on one lessons.

- “Yeah, thas’ it, baby.” She’d mutter in your ear from behind you. She’s holding the racket with you and helping you swing your arms the right way.

- You guys didn’t expect to see anyone on the tennis court this early, so when other people come and Ellie recognizes them, she quickly guides you guys behind a tree.

- Your stomach is filled with butterflies as she tucks your loose hair behind your ear and kisses you !!

- You feel like a little kid playing in the woods again because now you and Ellie are sneaking around the park/tennis court trying not to be seen by the other people

- She gets really cocky sometimes and posts soft launches of you on her insta stories

- It would be a picture of you in her lap WAHH! Her tattooed hand is on your thigh with the caption “keeping me occupied”

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

#ellie williams #tlou2 #wlw #ellie the last of us #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #lesbian #ellie smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams fluff #ellie x you #jock!ellie #secret dating

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luvf4ngz · 10 months ago

Text

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together

grim reaper! jason todd

Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.

Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling

Word Count: 6081

Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)

Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.

Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!

He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.

"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly.

Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention.

"You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed.

“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him.

As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was.

He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,

“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.

He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”

Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”

“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.

He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.

“I mean, not really.”

A pause of silence.

“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”

“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?”

“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”

“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”

He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”

“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.

"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”

“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”

He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”

“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.

“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”

You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”

“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.

“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.

He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention.

“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”

“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice."

He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”

"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."

He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”

“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.

“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied.

“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?

“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”

He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”

“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now.

“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.

“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”

He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”

“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle.

“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen.

You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch.

“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.

His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event.

And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things.

“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned.

“What? You don’t want me here?”

“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”

“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”

“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?”

Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance.

He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest.

This was a much better use of his time.

“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast.

“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands.

He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page.

“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you.

“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.”

He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?”

“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body.

“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.”

Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this.

“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!”

He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."

You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand.

“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.

You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”

“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.

“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”

He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.

“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.”

“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing.

“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”

“That sounds just fine to me.”

His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes.

You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.

“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm.

“Yeah,” You mumble back.

He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.

Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist.

His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming.

Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.

"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.

He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.

You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher.

Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.

“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.

“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping.

“You have me.”

“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”

“You can have that too…” You sighed out.

“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.

“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter.

The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.

He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you.

"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation.

You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you.

“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”

You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.

Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one.

“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly, and he never wants to stop hearing your voice.

“I got you, princess.”

He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?”

“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.

“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body.

You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you.

You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”

Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed.

His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers.

“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame.

He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.

He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins.

He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud.

“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face.

He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub.

“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could.

He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.

“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.

“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.

“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths.

“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason.

“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.

“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.

“N-not there!”

“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”

“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him.

“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you.

“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard.

The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.

He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him.

He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you.

“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break.

“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue.

The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins.

Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia.

Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew.

“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in.

“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole.

“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.

His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’

You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.

“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore.

“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small.

He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his.

His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.

He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips.

He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh.

“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”

He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again.

“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt.

“Please.”

You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.

“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms.

You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over.

He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat.

“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”

“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask.

You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”

“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers.

His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”

“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language.

He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting.

He’s…. big.

Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.

“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance.

His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists.

He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.

“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter.

“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again.

Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother.

You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside.

“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.

He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos.

“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.

“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him.

He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.”

“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble.

“Isn’t it?” He grins.

He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock.

He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come.

You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body.

He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust.

“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins.

“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat.

“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.

“J-Jay…”

Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls.

He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”

A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once.

“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp.

He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body.

“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”

“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder.

“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”

Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.

“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.

“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.”

A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath.

The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred.

When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.

“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.

You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him.

"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."

“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly.

Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah

#sumi — dc.#sumi — my love.#sumi — works.#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #dc smut #dc x reader #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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sinsofnivan · 23 days ago

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NIVAN NIVANNN, this isn't really a request, just a silly ask but ,, (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠) i think we all know it is probablyyy established that albert is our no. 1 pussy slapper, but what chu think about the other resident evil men?!?!? who would be no. 2 or who be the least into it... >____< personally i think chris and jake would be into it...

CUNT SMACKING.ᐟ— featuring RE MEN.

PAIRINGS: RE MEN/you.

TAGS: cunt slapping, obv, condescension, ruined orgasms, just pure horniness, daddy/master kink

A/N: no thoughts. head empty.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

THE SADISTS who enjoy ruining your orgasm and making you cum from nothing but his harsh cunt slapping.

ALBERT WESKER, HUNK, jake muller, karl heisenberg.

the way he laughed was absolutely menacing. “soaked already? i haven’t even made you beg for me yet,” your clit twitches from the sting and from his cruel words. another wet SMACK! echoes in your shared bedroom. your slick only made the impact more blissfully painful.

“look at that cunt. you like this, don’t you? having your pretty pussy slapped. think i can make y’cum with just me slapping it?” you shake your head, and it doesn’t matter anyways; because he’s landing another strike—once, twice—anyways.

“c’mon, slut. beg me. say please, master. don’t make me repeat it.”

THE BRAT BREAKERS who’ll put you in your place, claims to do it to “discipline” you.

ALBERT WESKER, chris redfield, jack krauser, karl heisenberg.

“how many?”

“e , eight . . ”

this is your punishment when you’re being extra stubborn, and if you dared lose count of how many strikes he’s bestowed on that puffy cunt, good luck; he won’t hesitate to start over so as long as you learn a fucking lesson.

slap!

“n, nine!” your poor cunt’s given soft, gentle rubs as comfort. “my poor angel. are you gonna do it again?” slap! “ten—! n, no i won’t! won’t do it again!” slap! “promise?” you could barely utter out an eleven, the humiliation and the pain makin’ this more pleasurable than it should. slap! “p, promise, daddy! eleve—!” slap! his laughter blends in nicely with your wails.

“you know i'd rather not do this, but you've been bad. y'know what bad girls get.”

THE SWEETHEARTS who’ll do what you ask, because, well, why the hell not?

LUIS SERRA, CARLOS OLIVEIRA, leon kennedy, piers nivans.

“you’re kinkier than i thought, darling,”

he whispered in your ear, thumb rubbing over your sensitive, reddening cunt. “didn’t think you’d love—,” SMACK! “—having your pretty, pretty pussy slapped.” you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of this after specifically requesting it, but fuck, you were dripping; transparent, sticky arousal smearing everywhere.

“should i slap her again, my love?” his eyes break away from your puffy clit and looking over you, expectant. “y, yes please,” you mutter weakly, holding on to his biceps. he can’t resist, can’t say no to his good girl.

SMACK!

your essence sticks to the pads of his calloused fingers, and he couldn’t help but let his lips curl up to a smile. “god, you’re fucking dripping.”

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rightwheretheyleftme · 25 days ago

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How the ‘Avatar Legends’ retcon fails Kya

Let me show you 2 moments from TLOK:

season 2, episode 9

season 2, episode 13

Both of those moments deliver the same joke: Kya doesn’t know how to meditate and when she attempts it, she ends up clumsily messing it up. In the first instance, it’s even a visual joke: Check how Jinora and Meelo, 2 characters who know how to meditate, have one stick of incense placed in front of them while Kya is awkwardly holding 2 sticks.

These jokes take on a deeper meaning when you read how the showrunners first conceived the character of Kya:

The Legend of Korra show bible

They envisioned Kya as someone who didn’t know her father very well- therefore, she doesn’t really know his culture or how to practice it.

Then in 2022, we got this retcon:

[…] she did internalize some of his [Aang’s] lessons about philosophy, meditation, and balance, holding them close to her heart for her whole life. Now, as the Air Nation's growth strains its leadership's time and energy, Kya has stepped up to help teach those same lessons her father taught her, both at Air Temple Island and out of her Dragon Flats-based clinic.

If you have encountered any K*taang account in the wild, you know that this semi-canon paragraph has been wildly celebrated. Now, out of nowhere, Kya knows meditation so well that she can teach classes about it! Hooray!

Bryke, stop bullshitting us. You established twice over that Kya doesn’t know how to meditate, you can’t erase what you portrayed in your show and try to convince us that she was a meditation expert all along. It’s clear that the showrunners don’t care about the Kya as a character, they see her as a tool to clear the mistake that they made when they wrote TLOK!Aang as a neglectful father.

Anyways, here is the full information that we get about Kya in Avatar Legends and I’d like to remark my favorite quotes:

“When disaster strikes, she can quickly switch between healing the injured and taking on attackers without missing a beat.”

“She does have some lingering pain, though, from her father favoring Tenzin, the Airbender, over his other children.”

“When she's in the city, the waterbending master Kya runs a free clinic out of a converted tenement in the middle of Dragon Flats. The clinic provides physical and mental healthcare, preventative to emergency, to a neighborhood that most needs it and can least afford it.” (emphasis mine)

“Katara broke boundaries as the first woman known to modern history to receive formal training as a master of both waterbending combat and waterbending medicine. Her daughter Kya was part of the first generation of young Waterbenders to learn both disciplines side by side.”

“Kya grew up frustrated that the world saw her as just a Waterbender, and not another child of Air Nomad heritage. Yes, she is an expert Waterbender, and she gladly accepted the traditions and culture of her mother... but she has always felt an affinity with Air Nomad culture. Her father taught Tenzin about Air Nomad culture far more than he taught either her or her brother Bumi […]” (empashis mine)

I love Kya so much. I wish the writers did as well.

#tlok critical #anti lok #katara deserved better #anti bryke #anti tlok #anti kataang #lok critical #kya deserved better

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it-was-summer · 18 days ago

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Nevertheless (I'm In Love With You)

A/N: Basically, it's a broken-up little fluff piece! This is after Season 15, but I'm pretending that he is a full-time professor who occasionally assists the team with cases. Most of the time, professors DO NOT sub for each other, but hey its fanfiction man. THESE ARE MY BARBIES!!! I hope you enjoy it!

Link to the Ao3: Nevertheless (I'm In Love With You) Link to the: Yee olde masterlist You are on: Enemies (if you can call it that) -> Friends (Associates at best) Tags: Use of She/Her pronouns (I apologize), slight enemies, genuinely a short and sweet little slice before y'all let me cook, mentions of victimology, violence, forensics mentioned FOR A MOMENT, ugly Christmas sweater? College talk? Embezzlement mention guys!

Genre: Slight Enemies to friends to lovers. ForensicsProfessor!Reid x ForensicsProfessor!Reader

Plot: Your new coworker, Dr. Spencer Reid, has a talent for avoiding teaching responsibilities, thereby leaving the duties to you. However, forgiveness is easily given when he makes a little effort.

Word Count: 2,966

Enemies (If You Can Call It That)

You didn’t like this new professor. It wasn’t because of change– you usually welcomed change, especially if that change was a new person coming into your life. People typically describe you as kind, passionate, and empathetic. But you strongly disliked fickle people, fair weather, and unpredictable people never sat right with you. You arrive at events on time, and the older you get, the more you view tardiness as a sign of slight disrespect. But this was on another level.

From your understanding, three professors were teaching Victimology 6113 this Fall semester: you, Dr. Matthew, and Dr. Reid. Sometimes, you would teach introductory courses— Criminology, Criminal Justice, the basics. However, this Fall semester, you were only teaching three: Victimology 6113, Violence and the Family 2184, and Psychopathology 6104.

Dr. Reid and Dr. Matthew taught their Victimology courses on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. You had opted for the other, slightly longer option, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Sure, you still had an influx of graduate students, but not as much as your male counterparts. Your classes were an hour longer to compensate for the lost time of only having classes twice a week instead of three.

You liked that kind of schedule, the ability to have more time on Fridays or Mondays to grade papers or fix lesson plans. You had kept it consistent since taking up the position two years ago and were happy to keep it that way.

So… when Dr. Matthew asked you to fill in for one of Dr. Reid’s Victimology classes on a random Wednesday, you were initially happy to help. You didn’t mind helping out your slightly new coworker. He had done seminars at the university in the past, and when he left the Behavioral Analysis Unit, he took up a position teaching Forensic Psychology. That was all you knew about him, though, other than his name and BAU reputation.

His graduate students were learning the same material as yours, so it wasn’t difficult to fill in– this one time.

Then, Dr. Matthew asked for assistance again—this time for an afternoon Friday class. The last time you covered for Dr. Reid, you assumed it was a one-off— a coworker needing a hand. You didn’t think of it when you agreed for the second time.

Then there was a third…, a fourth, a fifth, and eventually a sixth. You had tried to get out of the fifth time, deciding that enough was enough and that Dr. Reid would have to find his own substitute and not let Dr. Matthew do all his dirty work for him. However, when you used the excuse that you were behind on lesson plans, Dr. Matthew simply said you could borrow some of his material if needed.

It wasn’t even halfway through the fall semester, and by the end of September, you had covered at least fourteen classes for this man– your coworker with whom you barely had a relationship. It was getting ridiculous.

Consistent behavior reflects character, and all you could think of as you walked to his classroom that fifteenth time was Dr. Reid’s character was lacking consideration. It almost seemed cruel at this point.

At first, you thought you were being dramatic, but then it hit you. You were doing extra work for a class that wasn’t yours—answering questions for students who weren’t in your cohorts. You had every right to be upset with the situation! So, it was natural that your feelings for your supposed coworker were… cold.

When you did see him, in faculty meetings or passing, you kept your gaze off him with a fast pace in your step. A small, more rational voice in your head suggested that you were being rude or petty. But the more you thought about it, the more you decided that you weren’t. You were a graduate professor with your PhD, the same as Dr. Reid. You had the same amount of classes as him, similar students, and experience in the field (though, in this case, yours was forensically based, but experience nonetheless). You could keep a schedule; you were rarely tardy and rarely canceled classes unless absolutely necessary. Why couldn’t he do the same?

When October faded into November, you prepared for busier office hours. You were unaware that Dr. Reid did as well. You were also surprised that his office was across the hall from yours. His blinds were closed, but his light was on, and you could see the occasional shadow of him and a student.

Bitter thoughts surfaced as you stared at the shadows in his office. His students would indeed have questions; he was never teaching! You bit the inside of your cheek at the nasty thought and hung your head for a moment, instead trying to focus on a small stack of ungraded papers.

Lost in thought, the knock on your door frame made you jump. With wide eyes, you found yourself staring at one of Dr. Reid’s students, and behind him was Dr. Reid himself. “Excuse me,” the student said gently, entering your office. “You mentioned some victim advocacy programs in DC the other day while subbing for Dr. Reid, and I was wondering if you could recommend a program?”

You pause, thinking briefly before your lips form a slight ‘o’, and nod, “Yes, of course!” You grab a pen and sticky note, writing as you speak, “DC SAFE has a great volunteer program!” You smile as you write the number of an associate of yours who primarily talks with the volunteers.

Walking around your desk, you hand the sticky note to the student. “Just call that number and tell them I sent you,” You smile as the student thanks you and walks away, but after a brief moment, you realize Dr. Reid is still in the hallway, just staring at you. His big brown eyes seem more hazel under the fluorescent lights of the hallway, and he’s very tall. Was he this tall the last time you saw him? Then again, you don’t think he has ever been close enough for you to notice.

You force an awkward smile, “Can I help you?”

He swallows, his brown eyes nervously scanning your face. “No, I mean, yes. I didn’t—" he sighs softly. “I was unaware that your office was near mine—your office hours differ from mine.”

You draw your lips into a tight line, nodding as your hand motions to your desk. “Yes, we appear to be neighbors.”

Then, more silence. You watch as he nervously shifts his weight on his feet, his brows knit together, and he opens his mouth to say something when one of your students pokes her head around the corner. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but could I… go over some material with you?”

You feel your tight chest lighten as you nod, barely glancing at Dr. Reid as you reach for your door. “Have a nice day, Dr. Reid.” You mutter as your student shuffles past you, and the door shuts in his face.

The knot in Spencer’s stomach twists as he stands outside Dr. Matthew’s office. All those months ago, all Dr. Matthew had told him about his first absence was that he had it covered. For some reason, Spencer assumed that Dr. Matthew would teach his classes if the BAU needed a consultation. He did not know that it had been you.

He wasn’t bothered that it was you, no. You were brilliant, competent, and courteous. He observed that his students were grasping concepts well, even with his absences, which he could now credit to your teaching abilities. You excelled at your work. He had praised Dr. Matthew when it had been you all along!

The student visiting him during his office hours had revealed it to him, and everything started to make sense. You were polite but obviously avoiding him. He had taken note of it in September but thought he was simply overthinking it.

He bites his lip gently as he waits for the door to open. His eyes meet Dr. Matthew’s, and the older man frowns. “Spencer, is there a case? I’ve told you before, that you needn’t—”

“No,” Spencer says, holding up his hands. “I just wanted to talk to you about who’s been covering my classes.”

Dr. Matthew looks bewildered as he mutters your name in a confused tone, asking, “What seems to be the problem?”

“Well, technically, there isn’t a problem.” Spencer watches how Dr. Matthew’s face relaxes, “I was just unaware she was covering for me.”

“Ah, well, not to worry, she’s very good– wonderful!” He fixes his last choice of words and repeats it, “Wonderful!” Before Spencer can say more, Dr. Matthew shakes his finger– an idea brewing. “You know, she’s around your age! I’m sure the two of you could be great friends– might have plenty in common.”

“Right, well I–”

The sharp ringing of the older man’s phone cuts Spencer off. Pulling it out, he frowns and holds up a finger before saying quickly, “Sorry, I have to take this.” Then he retreats into his office and shuts the door behind him, leaving Spencer alone in the hall.

Spencer finds himself frowning at the dark oak door before returning to his office in defeat. By the time he’s back in his office, he can see you’re gone, and his apology will have to wait another time.

It’s a Wednesday, and you can feel it in the air—the dreaded anticipation of Dr. Matthew knocking on your door and asking for another favor. You struggle to find an excuse. You’re ahead of grading, lesson plans, everything. You puff out your cheeks as you enter the lecture hall, passing empty seats as you approach the front of the room.

Setting your bag on the desk, you pull a chair up and get to work setting up. Then… you spot a yellow sticky note stuck to the whiteboard. At first, you brush it off as another teacher forgetting to clean up after themselves. Your fingers pluck it away from the whiteboard, ready to toss it in the trash, and then you see your name written in messy handwriting.

Your eyes narrow as you bring the note closer to read it. Your name is scrawled in the top left corner, followed by a comma and ‘I truly appreciate you stepping in to cover my classes right before finals. Though it may not be much, there is a chocolate croissant in my office fridge with your name on the bag.– Dr. Spencer Reid’

You blink, then reread it, and again, and again. Then you find yourself briefly smiling, then frowning, then shaking your head, and tossing the note out. Your eyes briefly stay glued to the note in the bin before you finish setting up for class.

Spencer is happy to see that said chocolate croissant is missing from his mini-fridge when he’s in his office the next day. He moves to sit at his desk when he sees a pink note on the back of his chair.

‘Dr. Reid, Bribery is low class– no matter how delicious.’

Spencer feels his lips quirk up into a smile, holding the note in his hand as he sits. Then, he finds himself doing something surprising, saving it. He places the pink sticky note in his desk drawer, pulling out his yellow sticky notes while he’s at it.

His foot taps under his desk momentarily, and his pen hovers over the colorful paper. He writes a quick message and finds himself quickly waltzing over to his door, opening it, peeking his head to scan the hall, and gently sticking the note on your office door as fast as possible.

Friday, the construction near your apartment makes it too hard to concentrate, so you head in to get some well-needed work done. When you see the yellow note, it’s barely hanging onto the door, but you can now place the messy handwriting as Dr. Reid’s.

‘What form of corruption is considered high class?’

You huff out a laugh as you open your office door, tucking the note into a drawer without thinking. You’re eager to turn on your desktop, but as you grade assignments, your mind wanders.

Your eyes trail over to the pink notes on the edge of your desk. You glance at your screen, then the paper. Your intrusive thoughts win, your fingers wrapping around a pen as you scribble an answer to Dr. Reid. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip as you run across the hall to place the note on his door.

Spencer finds himself, surprisingly, excited on Monday morning as he spots a pink note on his office door. He doesn’t even unlock his door. Instead, he stands reading the note with an amused smile. You wrote the word ‘Embezzlement’ in large, neat letters and nothing more.

However, due to the lack of words, he finds it unnecessary to write a note back. Though, he supposes he’s not obliged to. He tucks the pink note with the other one at his desk and works on some end-of-semester grades. However, his mind occasionally wonders about the office across the hall and if you’re inside.

At the end of the year faculty ‘party,’ Spencer finds himself feeling rather tongue-tied. Dressed in a thick grey sweater, he finds himself stuck to the wall. He misses the team, and for a second, he debates texting Penelope or Emily to see if they can save him from this situation. But he knows that he needs to socialize despite it never being his strong suit. Personally, he thinks that he’s gotten better at it.

His spot against the wall makes it easy to spot Dr. Matthew and his wife as they discuss something with another couple. He gives up on that route and searches for his friend in the philosophy department. Instead, his eyes land on you.

Unlike most staff, you’re happily dressed in a festive-looking sweater. He swears that he can see bells and tinsel hanging off it as you talk with another woman excitedly. Spencer lets out a short laugh; it reminds him of something Penelope would wear.

You’re covering your mouth as you laugh, your eyes sweeping across the room as your giggles shake your shoulders lightly, landing on Dr. Reid for a second. Maybe it is the approaching holidays or the relief that you’re getting a break; you find yourself gracing him with a bright smile.

Spencer feels a smile spread on his face at the sight and starts approaching you. When he gets to your side, you’re alone. “Hello,”

You tilt your head up to look up at him, “Hello,”

This is more awkward than you thought it would be.

Spencer finds that he didn’t think this through, a surprising development, as he quickly says, “Ugly sweaters originated in the 50’s,”

Your shoulders fall with that, eyes going soft as you mutter a quiet, “You think my sweater is ugly?”

“What? No, no, that’s not–” He panics, his cheeks flushing slightly before he sees the growing smirk on your face. “You’re messing with me.”

“And enjoying it deeply,”

“You’re cruel,”

“Payback, I suppose.”

Spencer feels a stab of guilt in his chest with that, and he sucks in a light breath, “I do appreciate all your help this semester. If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, I will gladly do it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, the conversation dies off for a second. You watch as Spencer glances around the room, reminiscent of how you looked two years ago. You bite the inside of your cheek. “I don’t hate you,” you sigh out, defeated.

You were easy to please, and he had done just that– pleased you. You didn’t hold grudges, and even if you did, watching him now–talking with him really– you knew he didn’t mean any harm by it.

His eyebrows shoot up, hazel eyes looking into yours, “Did you?”

You let out a soft ‘mm’ as you flip your palm up and down, “Perhaps, briefly, pre-croissant.”

Spencer let out a groan, eyes casting downwards as he nods, “I deserve that,”

“Water under the bridge,” You decide, watching his hazel eyes leave the ground and meet yours with a hopeful glint.

For a moment, you focus on the color of his eyes. A deep honeyed color at first glance, but hints of cool-toned greens prove that idea wrong. Spencer swallows, wondering why he keeps finding himself without words when he’s around you. Perhaps he is scared of saying the wrong thing, further fracturing your relationship.

“Would it be alright if we exchanged numbers?” You say, watching his eyes go wide.

“For?” He hates how the question sounds coming off his tongue but relaxes when you smile.

“Dr. Matthew saved your ass,” He’s still confused, and you can tell by the way his eyebrows furrow. “He told me that you occasionally lend a hand to the BAU, thus explaining the absenteeism.”

He lets out a quiet ‘ah’ as you stare at him. "But I’d like to communicate better with you in the future. Hence, I am requesting a number exchange.”

“I don’t plan on repeating–”

“Nevertheless, just in case,” You insist softly, taking your phone out of your pocket and opening it for him. “I’m not the biggest fan of surprise classes.”

Spencer nods as he carefully takes the phone out of your hands, careful not to touch your hands. “Of course,” he says, returning the phone after sending himself a hello message.

You tuck it away as you nod, catching him smiling at you playfully. “What?”

“Does this make us friends?”

“Acquaintances, associates at best.”

“Noted,” He says with a short laugh, watching you shake your head with a broad grin.

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defectivevillain · 1 year ago

Text

scar-crossed lovers

pairing: Severus Snape/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

summary: “This really isn’t necessary,” you feel the need to say, once you realize that Severus is going to apply the burn paste for you. “I’m perfectly capable-” You break off at the cynical expression on his face, which suggests exactly how incapable he thinks you are.

word count: 2.7k | ao3 version

this work is technically in a series, so feel free to read the other parts and then come back :3

warnings: first-degree burns

Potions was one of your least favorite subjects as a Hogwarts student. You weren’t necessarily bad at brewing, but you weren’t quite skilled at it either. The pressure to follow precise instructions coupled with the subsequent risk of injury that came with errors made it a hard class for you to enjoy. You didn’t have enough confidence in your abilities to proceed through Potions with conviction, and that showed through in your classwork. You often brewed the Potions correctly, but it took you twice as long as it took your classmates.

Thankfully, your Potions days are long behind you. You’re the Ancient Runes professor at Hogwarts and acting Head of Hufflepuff House—and neither of those roles require an extensive knowledge of Potions. You’re more than content to leave the art of Potions to Severus Snape, the current Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. You’re secretly relieved that you left Potions back in your school years. You’d much rather continue practicing and researching the subject you’re skilled at—Ancient Runes—than meddle with Potions.

The universe seems dead-set on spiting you, however, because you soon find yourself in a rather uncomfortable position. Minerva is regarding you with an expectant gaze, evidently waiting for you to respond to her statement. You have to put a conscious effort towards remembering what she’s requested of you.

Severus will be away for the next few school days, in order to attend an international Potions conference. Since the Potions Master will be absent, the castle will need a substitute to stand in his place. You’re not exactly surprised that Minerva is asking you to fill in for Severus—you teach an elective course for upper-years, which means that you have less classes to teach than your colleagues. You have enough time in your schedule to fill in for Severus. The thought of returning to the dungeons for Potions isn’t quite savory, but you know you’ll manage. Besides, you’ll be the professor, not the student. You won’t actually have to brew anything; instead, you’ll be supervising the students’ creations.

“I can do it,” you tell Minerva. The Transfiguration professor thanks you and the tension seems to leave her shoulders. For the rest of your meeting, the two of you review the lesson plans Severus left and discuss any potential obstacles. You leave feeling both nervous and excited.

To your surprise, however, your Potions classes proceed rather well. The first day flies by without incident and you find yourself feeling strangely validated. You had anticipated there to be a struggle with maintaining your authority, especially with the younger classes of students whom you haven’t gotten to know yet. However, everything went rather smoothly. There were a few hiccups here and there, but you managed to handle them well. Perhaps this won’t be so bad after all.

Of course, the moment you begin to relax, something goes wrong. In hindsight, perhaps you should’ve expected mishaps from the second year Slytherins and Gryffindors—the two Houses usually don’t get along well, and the students are fairly young. But, you don’t have a choice in the matter—you have to supervise them, since Severus is absent. Safe to say, within a few moments of starting class, you’re developing a headache.

The class is currently learning how to brew Strengthening Solution. You copy the recipe from the textbook onto the board with large handwriting and provide a few general tips, before allowing the students to pair up and begin brewing. By the end of the period, each pair should present a Strengthening Solution for grading.

Strengthening Solution is far from a difficult brew, but you still spot a few pairs having trouble. You eventually decide to pace around the classroom in circles, keeping your eyes peeled for raised hands or confused looks. Malfoy is doing well—unsurprising, considering that he’s apparently one of the top of the class. The same goes for Granger. Zabini and Nott seem to know what they’re doing. Weasley seems torn between attempting to slice his ingredients and cheating off of Granger. There aren’t any noticeable fights brewing amongst the students, which is a plus. Malfoy and Potter have a rather bitter rivalry, from what you’ve heard.

Someone is trying to get your attention, though. You break away from your thoughts and walk over to the student, who is raising their hand diligently. “What’s the next ingredient?” A boy you recognize to be Neville Longbottom asks. You peek down into his cauldron, frowning when you notice it’s the wrong color.

“What have you done so far?” You ask him. Longbottom recounts the steps he’s taken and you manage to find where he left off. “Salamander blood is next, Mr. Longbottom,” you answer him. Longbottom exchanges a worried look with Finnigan, his lab partner. Dread coils in your chest. The two of them look scared.

“Salamander?” Longbottom asks, his eyes wide.

“Yes,” you respond. The shocked look on Longbottom’s face does not inspire confidence. You grimace and take another sidelong glance at the cauldron, surprised to find that the color has since changed. Just what did Longbottom put in the concoction?

You don’t have time to find out, as the cauldron bubbles ominously. Within the blink of an eye, the cauldron is spitting boiling hot liquid everywhere. You quickly shove Longbottom to the side and turn to conjure a shield. Your arm is prickling and aching, but you ignore the sensation and focus on containing the potion’s unexpected eruption. Thankfully, you manage to prevent any harm to the other students—which is most important. A nullifying spell calms the bubbling potion back down, and you quickly send Longbottom to the infirmary before instructing the class to finish brewing and turn in what they have. Despite the mishaps with Longbottom’s brewing, the majority of the class seems to have finished the Strengthening Solution unimpeded. Once the students are dismissed, you turn your attention to the now-melted cauldron and try your best to repair it. After a few minutes of concentration, you manage to somewhat restore it. At the very least, it’s functional. Longbottom will just have to deal with it.

You finish cleaning the table up, before wiping the sweat from your brow and taking a deep breath. That was a close call—your heart is still racing. There’s no telling what would have happened if you hadn’t contained the potion in time. Thank Merlin for small mercies, you suppose.

It takes several moments for your adrenaline to fade away, and the feeling is then replaced with a strange prickling along your forearm. You frown and pull up your shirt sleeve, hissing as it rubs against your chafed and burnt skin. It seems not everyone escaped unscathed. Truthfully, though, you’re glad you’re the one injured—and not any of the students (aside from Longbottom, who is likely being chewed out by Madam Pomfrey right now).

You know a few minor healing spells, but they hardly do anything to get rid of the harsh burn that seems to tear its way up your arm. You don’t really want to go to the infirmary—you know Poppy would have no qualms about telling you exactly how reckless and foolish you were. You suppose you could raid Severus’s Potions stash… but you don’t have a death wish. Severus is very possessive of his Potions, and you know he’d flip once he returned and noticed that something was missing. You inhale slowly and take a moment to process everything that just happened.

Your brief reprieve doesn’t last very long, as a student enters the classroom and breaks you out of your thoughts. You cast a minor pain relief spell and quickly roll your shirt sleeve back down. Before long, you’re too busy greeting the next class of students to pay much attention to your injury.

Thankfully, your remaining lessons are uneventful. It isn’t until your final class is over and you start to walk to the dining hall that you remember the burn itching at your skin. The pain nullification spell has worn off and you cast another, idly hoping that it’ll somehow get rid of the burn entirely. You don’t really have the luxury to devote time to your wound—you need to finalize your lesson plans for the coming week and grade some essays that the fifth-years turned in. You spend dinner lost in thought, planning out how you’re going to spend the rest of your day.

It’s really a shame that your plan falls into obscurity the moment you leave the Great Hall. You can’t be more than a few steps down the hall before you feel a presence at your side. You chance a sidelong glance at your newfound companion, relaxing when you realize it’s Severus.

“Hey, Severus,” you greet him, unable to stop the small smile that works its way onto your face. You’re happy to see him. Severus nods and begins to walk at your side. You’re heading back to your office, and you suppose he is going to be returning to his office too. “Glad you’re back. How was the conference?”

The Potions professor huffs. “There was a veritable mix of bright minds and complete fools,” he remarks with a dark glare pointed ahead. You have to stifle your amusement at the gesture. Severus doesn’t seem keen to elaborate further on the sentiment.

“That sounds about right,” you hum, recalling what you’ve heard about the conference in passing. “Your classes did pretty well. Only one cauldron blew up.” Severus lets out a long-suffering sigh, evidently thinking about all the cauldrons that will blow up across the duration of the school year. You can’t help but smile at his exasperation. Admittedly, you share some of it too—especially since the incident yesterday.

“Thank you for watching over my classes,” Severus says, apropos of nothing. There’s no hint of anything other than sincerity in his voice. You raise an eyebrow at the realization. His lips quirk up ever so slightly and, Merlin, is that a smile? He surprises you even more by placing a hand on your forearm. Ordinarily, you’d appreciate the friendly gesture, but his grip falls right on your untreated burn and you have to wince. Immediately, his eyes are squinted in suspicion. You try to tug your arm back, but his grip is tight on your wrist—thankfully, away from the burn. The professor’s infamous scowl returns. “What did you do?”

You resolutely keep your mouth shut. Unfortunately, Severus isn’t the least bit discouraged. Instead, he grabs your sleeve and delicately rolls it up. The marred skin on your forearm is revealed and Severus shakes his head in irritated disbelief.

“To be fair, I didn’t do anything,” you feel the need to establish. Severus pinches the bridge of his nose. You decide to continue speaking, even though his expression is quickly turning from annoyed to fuming. “Remember the cauldron I mentioned? Yes, well… Mr. Longbottom had a bit of an accident.”

Severus’s grip on your wrist becomes bruising and you hiss. He removes his hand, but the indignant expression on his face doesn’t fade. His fists are clenched at his sides and his scowl is the angriest you’ve seen. It looks as if he’s moments away from stalking over to the Gryffindor Common Room and taking points from the Longbottom boy.

“Severus,” you chide him. You’ve been meaning to talk to him about his treatment of Neville Longbottom. The Gryffindor is absolutely terrified of the Potions professor. Now that you’re on the topic, you might as well mention it. “Actually-” The rest of the words disintegrate on your tongue, as you catch the murderous expression on the professor’s face. He glares at you and you fall silent. Now might not be the best time, you realize.

Severus starts to walk away. He doesn’t offer a single word of explanation, but you follow after him because it seems like the right thing to do. A few moments later, you find yourself standing in front of his Potions stores. Severus lets out a long suffering sigh and climbs the ladder to the top shelf with practiced ease, grabbing Burn-Healing Paste and another vial before shouldering past you in the doorway. You take a step back and watch him lock the space, before following him into his office. It takes you a few moments to realize why he hasn’t dismissed you yet.

“This really isn’t necessary,” you feel the need to say, once you realize that Severus is going to apply the paste for you. “I’m perfectly capable-” You break off at the cynical expression on his face, which suggests exactly how incapable he thinks you are. Severus silently takes a few steps forward, leaving you to hesitantly backpedal until you’re forced to lean back against his desk. He makes quick work of rolling up your sleeve; you’re not given even a word of warning before the paste is being deposited onto your arm. You manage to keep quiet, despite the sudden shock. The paste is weirdly cold, and it almost immediately soaks into your skin. You stare down at it in fascination.

“Thank you, Severus-” You move to get up, only for your colleague to push you back with a firm hand. You let your free hand fall to the desk behind you, feeling a sudden urge to brace yourself. Severus doesn’t seem to pay you any mind, as his gaze is honed in on your forearm. He procures the vial from earlier and picks up the pipette to place the amber liquid on your skin. At your questioning gaze, Severus explains.

“Anti-scarring solution.”

“Severus, I don’t care if it scars,” You try to say.

“Merlin forbid you mar your flawless skin,” Severus interjects, complete with a scoff and an intense eye-roll. The wording sounds a little familiar, but it takes you a moment to place it. Once you realize that he’s repeating something Lockhart said to you a few days ago— “You have such flawless skin!” —you can’t help but choke on a quiet laugh.

“He’s rather friendly, isn’t he?” You muse aloud. Severus visibly stiffens at that, for some reason. Tension suddenly settles in the air, heavy and palpable amidst the quiet of his office. You can’t help but feel as if you’ve just done something wrong—you’re just not sure what it is.

“More than friendly,” Severus states mildly. You want to ask him about the unreadable expression on his face (and the inexplicable glimmer in his eyes), but he places a healthy amount of salve on your arm and you flinch at the stinging sensation it creates. Lockhart had touched your forearm there, too. Whilst his touch incited disgust and discomfort within you, Severus’s touch makes your heart race.

“Okay, thank you-” You try to escape again, feeling a bit flustered by the intense gaze he has pointed at you. The Potions professor doesn’t respond verbally, instead leveling you with such a malicious glare that any more objections fall to dust in your mouth. Severus returns his attention to your forearm, a roll of bandages in one hand as the other hand gently extends your arm. A shiver rolls down your spine. Time drags on like a viscous sludge, and you’re a prisoner to its whims. All you can hear is Severus’s calm, measured breaths; all you see is the careful manner with which he handles you, as if you’re made of glass.

“Thank you, Severus.” You breathe once the bandages are secured around your forearm. You swear you feel his hands linger for the briefest of moments, but you put it down to your imagination. At a loss for words, you end up bidding him a good night and retreating to your own office. Even as you try to immerse yourself in grading your class’s essays, the weight of Severus’s touch and the pressure of his gaze refuses to leave your mind’s eye. You fall asleep that night with your arm prickling, both from the salve and from Severus’s attentive, careful grasp earlier.

The next day, you’re set free from your supervisory duties. While the few days you spent as Potions professor were enjoyable, you’re very relieved they’re over. You’d much rather devote attention to Ancient Runes—a subject you feel you’re more qualified to teach. It’s also nice to have your free periods back. You take the chance to study up on some recent scholarship and walk about the castle, taking in the fresh air that the spring brings.

Unbeknownst to you, during Potions class with the second-years, Gryffindor House loses a hundred points. When you hear the news at dinner, you can’t help but laugh. You then glance at Severus, unsurprised to find a vindictive smirk tugging at his lips.

next part

thanks for reading! <3

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general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian

#defectivevillain #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #male reader #nb reader #snape x reader #snape x male reader #snape x gn reader #severus snape x reader #severus snape x male reader #etc etc

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clandestine-j · 7 months ago

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It'll never NOT be WILD to me that we saw that by the end of the begin episodes and by the introduction of Bobby's…that Tommy is cool with the 118. Like, he's well liked, he's getting drinks, he's cracking jokes, him and Hen have a dynamic (she's coming for his lunch)

But we have to hate him because of his past.

We have….

A person who started a chain of events that lead to over 100 deaths with however many simply injured or has lost loved ones.

A person who cheated on his partner on a whim but didn't tell her until she was already moved in, trapping her.

A person who not only treated the mother of his child wrong (being able to run away TWICE when she couldn't) and when she did leave, he didn't bother to check on her (or even ask her mother was doing okay??? like that's your sons grand-mother dying of cancer and you're not gonna check on her once? see what the funeral was like, when it seemed like she was nothing but nice to you. unlike your parents to her daughter) and then she does come back, is happy to use her for sex while denying her a chance to re-connect with her child, then using his next girlfriend as a black out baby sitter and breaks up with her in the shittiest way possible. AFTER this best friend told him to end it AND THEN, STILL, hasn't learned his lesson about treating partners better because he finds out his girlfriend used to be a nun (didn't even make it to the nun part), refused to communicate with her until the last second, used her as a baby sitter, cheated on her by having an emotional affair while using her as a baby sitter. AND IT WAS ABOUT TO TURN PHYISCAL BEFORE SHE WALKED IN. DATES OUT IN BROAD DAYLIGHT.

But we're supposed to hate someone who learned, changed and grew.

Now, I still love the characters despite what they've done.

I just think it's wild, we're treated like shit for enjoying a characters who has shown growth and learning, and most of that hate is coming from fans of man who has constantly treated his partners like shit and has yet to learn from it depsite his big age. Now, don't get me wrong, I like the drama of it and I love the character but at least I don't pretend like he's JESUS.

It's just wild. We get shit for liking a character that grew, even if we didn't see it all but some can like a character that's gone through seasons of treating partners like shit and not learning his lesson and no one should say anything about it.

Ya'll are funny.

#tommy kinard #911 abc #i just #it's funny

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butchvamp · 1 month ago

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i dont know how you could play veilguard and genuinely think the dalish elves are represented well in that game. you can't even play a dalish rook (except somehow they kinda are dalish, but also you can make them andrastian too, because actually you're not dalish but you do know elven and call them "our gods" repeatedly for some reason but your faith is completely unshaken by all of this regardless), there are no dalish clans in the entire game, the only one we do interact with is massacred off-screen but it's fine this time i guess because at least it's not our fault, and the two dalish companions are treated like shit by the writers and the narrative and the playerbase. the veil jumpers are not the dalish, these are separate groups, there are humans and qunari and dwarves all within the veil jumpers. the dalish are separate, irelin and strife and bellara all left their clans to join the veil jumpers. the actual dalish clan in arlathan is killed after the gods escape, there's literally a whole quest where you have to run around and find their dead bodies.

bellara is punished not once but twice with her brother's death for daring to pursue elven history, just like merrill is punished for restoring the eluvian before her. and then rook is the one that gets to choose whether or not to destroy the archive, despite not even being dalish. yes, bellara is smart and strong and brave but she also is belittled for her beliefs; her struggle at the start is played as a joke, her comments are all punchlines, and when you do get to talk to her she blames herself and feels guilty, and the game gives you no real option to comfort her. it takes the game killing her brother a second time for us to finally get to see her practice her culture without feeling guilty and without being mocked for it at his funeral, because now she's learned her lesson (but also they make sure to throw in a comment about how Weird it is, and also that all the other dalish clans have been doing the Wrong funeral rites, just to make sure we know how silly they are)

outside of davrin and bellara, the dalish are absent. strife and irelin both immediately accept the sudden revelation that their gods are evil with no pushback (and i don't care if this is because they know harding and varric, this is not communicated in the game). and apparently every other dalish elf just accepts it, too. how is this not depicting them as a monolith? did we play different games? dalish clans have their own traditions and cultures and would absolutely have different opinions about their own gods; the only way you get to see something even remotely close to this is if you take bellara and davrin out together and listen for their banters-- which are never mentioned or relevant anywhere else in game.

and no, i don't want the dalish to blindly follow the gods in veilguard, i want the entire narrative to just not be so fucking racist. the oppressed people's gods being revealed to be evil all along is just racist. nothing else can be "fixed" while this is the core plot, and we knew this since trespasser came out, since it was first revealed over 10 years ago. people have been criticizing this choice and the depiction of the dalish for over a decade. and they still continued with this storyline, despite the various other lore bits they did end up changing for better or worse... instead they just wrote out the dalish completely while still managing to perpetuate harmful anti-indigenous tropes that they've been criticized for repeatedly in the past-- that are made even worse with the total absence of any other dalish characters to counteract them.

#like. what?#you guys are playing a different game than me i swear #sorry this post is kind of bitchy but im Tired of people being so purposefully obtuse about this subject #and just making shit up. its just racist! why are you trying so hard to defend it #why are you calling the people pointing out the racism... racist? and purposefully misconstruing the discussion?#why are you pretending like this stuff isn't literally in every game. this has been talked about so thoroughly at this point #if you arent seeing the issues with it i dont know how else to explain it anymore #da posting #critical #sorry i dont want to put this in the actual tag this is just a bitchy vent lmao

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ilyalljasonsandnon-jasonsthesame · 2 months ago

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Interactions I've had with my cousins + Batfam pt. 3

Damian: *throws a toy into an indoor garden at the mall*

Dick: *rummages around until he finds it*

Jason: shouldn't have gone looking for it, let him learn his lesson

Dick: Bruce literally got inside a fountain because you threw your toy car in it. Twice.

Tim: We are so young... But we're also so old... (He was on a philosophical rant that day)

Damian: *looks at Dick* You're old

*In a parking lot*

Bruce: Damian, come back here. You can't go by yourself, you could get run over by a car

Tim: No! Don't let him get run over!

Dick: Aw, don't worry-

Tim: He's holding Pete (a stuffed animal) :(

Damian has a suggestion every time he enters Dick's room:

Damian: *Points at Taylor Swift posters on the wall* Is that you?

Dick: (looks NOTHING like Taylor, is not even a girl) No?

Damian: Then why do you have her pictures?

Dick: She's a singer I like

Damian: Yeah, but why would you have somebody's pictures on your wall if it's not you? 🤨

Damian: *looks at Dick's stuffed animals* You need more

Dick: Oh, yeah?

Damian: Yes, you should buy at least 3 more by tomorrow

Damian: *opens the door* Your room is very messy

He also keeps track of all of Dick's figurines and notices when there are new ones.

*At a toy store*

Tim: Dick, can you buy us something?

Dick: Sorry, I only have 20 dollars on me right now (a lie)

Tim: Oh, okay :/

Damian: I don't believe you, show me your wallet

Tim: Where are you going?

Dick: Nunya

Tim: Nunya?

Dick: *didn't actually expect him to fall for it, now experiencing the 5 stages of grief knowing what he HAS to do* Nunya business

Tim: Hey :(

Dick: *crying inside* *Tells him exactly where he's going and everything he's doing for the rest of the day*

Tim: Dick, buy us toys

Dick: How did you behave this week?

Bruce: Tim is grounded bc he made Damian bleed. Damian behaved well

Dick: Aw, sorry, I can't buy you toys if you're grounded :(

Damian: Since Tim is not getting a toy this week, do I get two?

*Dick and Damian going to a store*

Damian: Psst, Dick

Dick: What is it?

Damian: Can you buy me something?

Dick: You know I can't buy you stuff if Tim isn't coming, if I'm buying something for one of you I have to buy for both of you

Damian: But he won't find out, I won't tell him, don't worry

*at the mall*

Dick: Hey, guys, I'm going to X store, do you wanna come?

Tim: Will you buy us something?

Dick: No, none of you behaved this week

Damian: Then no, thanks

Bruce: I'll go with you :)

Tim: What for? He's grown, he can take care of himself 🤨

Damian: *taking ages to choose which toy he wants*

Dick: *grabs stuffed animal* Hey, hadn't you said you liked this one earlier? (HE HAD!!!)

Damian: Ew, no, it's ugly

<< Prev

#dc comics #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #batkids #batfamily #batman #comics #incorrect batfamily #guys are these still good or have i lost the plot???

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1117feverlessdreams · 23 days ago

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On the Wrong Track

PAIRING: IdolYeosang!! x OrdinaryReader!

🚃🍀SUMMARY: Leaving behind those who saw fragments of you was as simple as boarding the next train. Until, that is, an undercover K-pop idol appeared, and the notion of staying put became irresistible.

🚃🍀TAGS/WARNINGS: Yeosang’s Limited English, K-Pop Industry Context, Emotional Turmoil, Mentions of Adoption, Separation Anxiety, Trust Issues, Deception, The Pressure of Stardom, Emotional Intimacy, Shower Smut.

🚃🍀WORD COUNT: 25k

🚃🍀A/N: Apologies for the lengthy hiatus – life happened, and I got derailed for a bit! 🚅 But now I'm back on track, and I've prepared a lengthy read for you all.

[Bold words are in Korean romanization, otherwise is just for emphasis.]

_____________🚂

The train’s whistle pierces through the chilling air, churning the wheels that begin to roll through the boiling steam. A smooth quick chug on the tracks allows you to view the city's landscape in motion from your front-end seating.

The sounds you resonate with, however, are whistles that pierce like your screams. A boiling steam pot of your unleashed rage. Last, but certainly doesn’t hold significance the least, an increasingly fast pace to abandon all youever known before.

Normally one's greatest fear would be the simpler things: heights, spiders, roller coasters…death. But for you, it was acceptance and commitment.

Even though you’ve only met them twice, one thing your parents drilled into you was the instinct to run away. Are you expecting a child? Run away. When it’s born? Run away. When it finds you in hopes you’ve changed to accept them in your ever-loving mind?

You guessed it.

They’d placed you through the foster system for all your nearly uncherished life so you could learn that very lesson. It became the basis of your character, and you were always proclaimed as: “the one who got away.”

Your breath exhausts from relief as your head lies upon the misty-fogged windows. The outside view blurs into blobs of the warm leaves that transform with the fall season in Korea. In an absentminded thought, you trace an array of words, shapes, and patterns-although the fog still remained non-transparent from the outside.

It sucked a bunch for you, because the best thing for your piece of mind is clarity. You turn freely in two cloth embroidered seats and squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that a little rest will rewire your brain from all present memories.

"Excuse me?" Your top lip brushes up in a scowl, and your peace of mind restrains to find peace. Your eyes flutter open in sequence, and just so you can return to your escape, your head tilts towards the tuneless plea emitting from the middle aisle.

An enlarged, stretched-out stomach ironically meets your eye level gaze, but looking up, of course, it belonged to a natural-born woman. Right next to her, is a natural-born man, who evidently shoots all his balls in one basket.

"Would you mind if my wife and I took your seats?” The male of the pair inquires with a desperate grin, rubbing onto his unborn child. “I'd like to make boarding off as easy as possible.” His soothing rubs contrast with a firm tap. “She'll pop any day now!"

She scoffs and does the playful chest slap while they laugh together-as all couples do in any lifetime movie you can name.

"I'd appreciate it, hun”, she begins. “We were squeezing into a seat in the back. It's still available if you wanna grab it.”

Oh. Great.

You pay extra money for two-ticket seating- purposely done so for your space and privacy, and now you have to pass it on to the lady and the tramp-and in terms of moralities, it’s the proper thing to do.

In an attempt to be insightful, you gaze at them, and then the unborn child the dear woman’s back has to bear for nearly 9 or 10 months. They appear to be a loving couple. That they'd do anything to ensure their child lives comfortably, even without it taking its first breath of fresh air.

So you come to terms with fighting against your mental battles, and give up your space because ‘it’s the right thing to do’. Just not necessarily your thing to do. But you have your reasons.

"Of course, it’s all yours for the taking.", you say with an irregular smile.

"Thank you, so much." The husband puts his hands together as if to show gratitude for an answered prayer. "You really didn't have to”, the pregnant wife adds. “Thank you for your kindness.”

'I did it for it. Not you two.'

“Of course”!, you say, waddling awkwardly like a penguin in the confined space to get into the aisle way and behind them, “Congratulations to you both!”

The loving couple's faces adorned with firm smiles settle happily into their your seats.

You travel back towards the caboose, searching for the seat the couple claimed to have saved for you.

Eventually, after many tribulations of accidental eye contact, and excuse me's through the train cars- you found the seat saved for you- all the way in the back.

The journey to the caboose gave you a visual of how loaded the ride is with passengers. By all means, it makes sense as to why the couple traveled to your end in hopes of finding a better seat.

You sigh as you finally make it, and then a bigger sigh follows when you find what looks to be an astounding private model-looking guy alone in the seat-tuning out the world with Airpod Max Pros and a chapter book. He's dressed snugly for the change of weather: a teddy bear hat and coat jacket monochromatic to his fluffy brown hair-along with a face mask to prevent attraction to any floating illnesses.

"Excuse me...?” Oh, the irony. You sound just like the seat freaks did a moment ago. Although your voice is clear through his headphones, and his ability to speak isn’t hindered through his mask- the brunette-haired man takes them off out of respect. “Do you mind if I sit here?”, you bunglingly mutter. “There's not any other seats left for me to choose from." You give a small smile, looking around sheepishly.

He turns up his book, one of your favorite novels, and his eyes relocate your own with the same awkward smile. "No, not at all. Please, sit comfortably."

"Thank you so much!” You plopped down in the aisle seat, for some reason, your breath had become irregular in the moment. “Sorry to be a bother."

He shakes his head, now smiling cutely with all his facial features playing their special part in his charm. “No, don't bother. It’s good manner what you did for baby-couple.“ He then covers his belly with his book for visual context. So not only was this guy good looking, and just the cutest English speaker ever, he had the most humanistic nature you’d ever come across in your lifetime.

“Of course, thanks for passing it on”, you note cheerfully.

He nods with his intimate gaze that entices you for just a moment, and soon his derailed attention returns to his book. The train gradually picks up on mileage as time passes, and the scenery outside blurs into a blue-green and brown haze.

At that time, you took notice of “Model-Man’s” readjustment to his previous content state. He pulls his weight on his backrest, allowing his shoulders to fall and brush lightly against yours. As the train rumbles onwards, the two of you sit in compatible silence.

“Nice to meet you by the way. I'm Y/n.”

You don't know what urges you to make the approach. You just ran away from this. Familiarity. But in some way, you feel compelled to know who this man is.

With a sparkle in his eye, he turns to bow his head in your direction, before the alienating culture shock of him crossing his hand over to proceed his greeting. "Nice to meet you. I'm Yeosang!"

You’ve never heard anyone enthusiastically introduce themselves, but it gave off a fine impression. You take his hand with an expression spooked from the unexpected grip pressure. The exchange of contact is cut short when all you can do is nod, feeling nearly numb from his delicate touch.

He flips to another page as he returns to reading, but then again, you cannot help to resist the urge.

“That's a very well-written book you're reading Yeosang. The author is my top three mystery storytellers.”

His face lights up with delight, clearly pleased by your uncalled interest. “Ah, Really? I'm big fan of this author too. I read all of their books so many times.” He looks at you with a curious expression. “What is your favorite?”

“Hmmm”, you shortly ponder in thought. “The Siren sequel is pretty good. The ending is such a cliffhanger though”, you scoff with a chuckle.

His nose crinkles in amusement as he laughs softly, then nods in agreement. “Ah~, it's my favorite too! Ending is so uh…” he then cuts himself off, stirring up his hand to search for the word, “wow”.

You give him a comedic thumbs for his adorable efforts and your understanding in agreement. “I need more story!”, he begs with pleasing hands, “please author.”

You lay your palm out flat to play into your beckoning. “That'll be another $47.99 please!”

Yeosang giggles with a veining hand covering his cute lisp. “Yes, so expensive, but…” he pauses with a nod as he looks downward at the book in his hands. “I love it.”

Your eyes follow downward toward the book, and the text you recognize is fully written in Korean. It came as no surprise of course given it was the country you were currently in.

“Yeah, I think so too,” you comment, “But, I also love it.” His head tilts back with a ‘hmmm’ to accommodate your interest. Just before he could see if it was okay to read again-

you. just. could not. resist.

“If you don't mind me asking, Yeosang. Where are you from?”

What! It never hurt too bad to ask! You were in Incheon, Korea, coming from Itaewon: the ultimate partying hotspot for foreigners, now departing on a five-hour train ride to Busan. Just based on the looks of this guy- you could just determine he was not the party type.

“Oh…I come from Seoul, here in Korea. But I’m born in Pohang.” When he’s done speaking his cheeks swell up and his face brightens with red color. “My English is not so good, sorry.”

“No, no, you’re doing great!” You exclaim as you wave worrying hands in his downturned line of sight. His eyes swivel back up again, and he tunes back into conversation. “I lived in Itaewon for two years, but my Korean is not that good either.”

“Ah, jinjjaro? Or…jakkaman, aish-, in his boyish nature the tongue-tied cutie loudly smacks himself in shame. Sorry…really?”

(“Ah, for real? Or…wait a second shi-“)

You giggle in a long bit and swat his hand softly from his red sweet cheeks. “Ya, Gwenchanayo! Hajiman, ne jinjjaro.”

(Hey, it’s okay! But, yes really.)

Yeosang eyes bloom adorably in surprise, and his whole body is now turned in his seat aligning with your line of direction toward him. “Ooh, you're Korean!! It’s so good!”

“No! I promise you it's not. Your English is honestly much better than my Korean.”

“No, no.”, he politely contradicts.

You laugh off your undetermined loss with a smile. You know from experience that it’s a never-ending contest with natives of ‘who learns languages better’.

“Guereom. (Well then.) Enjoy your book, Yeosang.” You kindly bow your head before positioning yourself up to turn over in your seat like you had before. Although the conversation was swell, you desperately needed a recharge from a thing called the shitty events of life. “Don’t mind me! I’ll be taking a much-needed nap.”

Similarly, your sudden brush off the conversation made Yeosang non-admittedly yearn for it a bit more. At first, he thought it would be good practice to use English on his solo trip in case he ran into foreigners like yourself. But he didn't expect his first connection to be so energetically strong.

You wink childishly to your fluffy-haired acquaintance before fully showing him your back to sleep.

His expression molten into one of worry. He reaches out to touch your arm, but winces in hesitation and fear. “That's okay. Sleep well.”

With your eyes closed, you admire his politeness and drift off into one nap of many you planned for this long journey without a destination pinpoined in any map. “Hmm. Ne~”

During your nap, Yeosang continues to be entranced into the fictional reality that is one of his favorite books and yours. But his attention keeps wandering back to you. He finds himself studying your face, when you sleepily turn back over. The gentle rise and fall of your chest looks calming. The way your hair fell across your forehead seemed elegant, and the comfy wool material of your hoodie correlated to the warmness of your interaction.

At some point, the analyzing eventually makes the sleepiness contagious, and Yeosang boards to the next stop into the dreamworld with you.

…

After what was about an estimate of your two-hour nap, the train rails screech to a stop into a 30-minute interval period for all newly boarding passengers, and for those who made arrival.

It was also the service attendant's perfect timing to offer snacks to long-riding passengers.

Yeosang, who has already noticed the cease in movement wakes up from his nap. One side of his hair was teased into a hump from his sleeping habits. As if he was already aware, he pats it flat with half-closed eyes.

The cart had shockingly made its way quickly to your section which you know to be unheard of. You are in the butt end, the crunch spot, the lifetime-couple-trade-special.

You communicate with the attendant about your wants and she tells you you are fine to accommodate yourself in getting. How sweet it would’ve been if all the goodies weren’t gone already.

As you were freely choosing in your pickings, the attendant had gotten preoccupied with a worried passenger's barging questions about the stop. Their behavior were that of a child who lacked discipline. You weren’t even trying to hide your mean mugging, appearing like a rabid dog ready to prowl.

As if it were another treat to calm your nerves, you heard a raspy, calming voice inquire, “I need drink please.”

You blink out of frustration and turn to the even more seemingly impossible, increasingly adorable, and tired ‘teddy bear man’. “Oh, I’m so sorry Yeosang! What do you need?”

His eyes open stickily as he peers over his remaining options which are little to none. “Water, please?” You scan your head up and down the cart in hopes of seeing water, and thankfully the last bottle had been hidden in between an empty box of granola bars.

“Here you go.” You gesture as if the bottle was on a silver platter.

“Kansamida.” (Thanks.) He retrieves the bottle from your hand with a slight bow. His thirst became perceivable in one go as his mask slips from his face and on top of his Adam’s Apple, bobbing with every sip.

Just when the moment of peace began to still, the conflict between the attendant and passenger arose, causing both you and Yeosang to scowl at the ill-mannered passenger in the matter.

The overhead speaker cuts over the rowdiness, queuing: “Attention KTX (KOREAN TRAIN EXPRESS) passengers!” Unfortunately, we had abruptly gotten notice of another one of our train routes experiencing a derail with injurious passengers due to a faulty signal. It is in our best interest for your safety that we take precautions, even when this situation indirectly affects this route. Therefore, we will terminate this train ride to Busan….”

“I’m sorry but-, Yeosang began to say.

The speaker then cuts moments after, and this time in a Korean translation.

“Ah…got it.”, he finishes.

With the unfortunate news announced overhead you both and many others had to prepare to get off the train. Apparently passengers in the front get treated like royalty, they hear the news before everyone else, making it convenient in preparations to leave. It especially took the longest because you were in the back, and you also had to retrieve your luggage from the attendants in the last car when you got off.

Despite the drastic situation, oddly all you could think about was how you and Yeosang could end things off so suddenly. It irked you to have the desire to know more.

Just as you were handed off your miniature luggage of belongings, you took in the not-so-new environment. It was a shared home of many you used to know.

Yeosang was coming towards you as you pondered the lost past, his eyes beading with a pleasing want for guidance. He was so used to being accompanied in times like these.

“Excuse me…Y/n?“

You turn faster than a pro ballet dancer, slightly tumbling on your toes. There was also his change in appearance that startled you with his black face mask. “Hello again! How can I help you Yeosang?”

Surely this hadn’t been the place he had wished to stop by as he looked around nervously- utterly bewildered by the change of environment.“Do you know this place? I am not, I am…erm-lost?”, it came out more as a question as he juggles his hand as he speaks, eyes wandering near and far.

“I do know this place…um, I stayed at an Airbnb with my friends… plenty of times”, you say bitterly.

“Oh, good!” He jumps with delight and major relief. The news to him couldn’t get any sweeter. “So fun!”The second emotion he doesn’t show however is he nods while his eyes continuously wander, hands on his hips.

“Do you need anything? You seem a little worried.”

“Uh…yes” he admits in defeat. His puppy eyes become trained on you once again. “This is not my stop. So I want to find place to sleep. I’m so very tired.”

“Uh…, you begrudgingly drag out, watching as the conductor steps off from his seat, their hands suck on their hips as they pitifully inspect the trains structure. “Yeah, it doesn’t look like the train will be running anytime soon”, you remark, turning to him with a hopeful grin. “But, at least I can help you.”

“Ah!”, he joyfully claps in excitement, “Thank you so much!” He bows in ninety degrees. “Uh, will you also stay here?”, he asks.

‘That’s a great question, you thought. My mind was so trained on you, everything else became senseless mush.’ “I might go to that Airbnb…or maybe, a cheap hotel? I’m not sure yet…”

“Ah…”, he says in an untelling tone.

“Well, how about you? Where will you sleep?”

“Probably…same as you.” He nods.

In your mind, you severely needed more context but you decided to not let it go there. “Okay, sounds good! Ready?”

Even the escalators didn’t operate, which was a pain in your pre-existing pain. In this circumstance, you had to hike two 25-pound suitcases up a wide public staircase.

Just when you thought you had it bad, Yeosang quadrupled you with the weight of 200 pounds, or four full-sized suitcases.

You pause on the seventh stairs to take notice of the man’s struggles. He somehow managed not to tread too far behind, but you were blessed enough to know struggle when you saw it.

“Ya, nahante geugeo jwo.”

(“Hey, give me that”)

You took two of his suitcases off his hands. Which tips your scale to one hundred fifty and Yeosang, one hundred.

He looked around in embarrassment because, in his eyes and probably many others, you looked like an angry partner helping the other out of annoyance. Yeosang was not gonna further push that motive by playing tug of war with you on a staircase. Although, for clarity, you were more so determined than annoyed.

“Gomawo.” He whispers, slightly pulling forth his mask.

(“Thank you.”)

Your struggles to the top were made easier because you were farther ahead, but it made breathing manual rather than automatic.

Once you’ve finally reached the terminals, you double over, utilizing the suitcase handles in front of the nonworking escalators to let others through.

Yeosang sticks to your side not long after with a shaking hand making small taps on your backside. The kind you would give a friend in times in vulnerability. Steady, firm, yet…gentle.

You look up to him, seemingly calm with shallow breaths. In between gasps you hold up a momentary smile in the delayed awkwardness.

At a time you turn your head back down, Yeosang leans in to mumble, “There is fountain, and drink machine that’s close.”

Although the suggestion sounded delightful, the way your day had been going made you in need of something more fulfilling. “Not- gonna lie to you…Nan yeonjonhi…baegopa.”

(“I’m still…hungry”).

Yeosang removed his hand and took a step back. When it was placed on his belly, his body growled in response. “Heum, nado…”

(“Hmm, me too…”)

“Mwo jom meogeullae?”

(“Do you wanna grab a bite to eat?”)

“Ne, ha-hajiman eodiseo?”

(“Sure, b-but where?”)

“Gaja!” (“Let’s go!”) You point aimlessly, taking all various sized suitcases ahead with you.

Once you two found an overly priced taxi which Yeosang generously insisted on paying for, you were Google searching your favorite brunch spot in the area. You show it to Yeosang by reaching over into his side utilizing the cup holder for support. “Looks good?”

“Yes, Masisseo bonida!”

(“Yes, it looks delicious!”)

You giggle quietly at his cute lisps slipping through the “s” sounds.

“Arraseo!”

(Got it!)

At first, you thought Yeosang had some sort of VIP subscription to the whole taxi transportation industry. Only in Korea can you find a driver who waits for you to finish eating with your bags in his trunk.

You suggest having brunch outside when you arrive at the brunch spot, which causes Yeosang to disagree with you for the first time since you’ve met. “No, inside. Back corner please”, he said.

It was a lot more calm you must admit, and the noise of clinking plates and aromas of fresh food made his first experience more lively. You were only ever quizzical with his decisions however when it came to eating. He kept his mask on the entire time- only pulling away to eat his food when needed.

It was your suggestion in an earlier conversation that led to you paying the bill. Besides how rude would it be to have him pay for a lunch you eagerly wanted him to try? Not to mention, he got you both here.

The two of you walk outside the restaurant with warm stomachs contrast to the still chill that bites the tips of your ears, and along the sidewalk toward your parked taxi.

Your attention was once again drawn to your phone as you tried to figure out what to do about your sleeping situation. The Airbnb bookings were already filled for the next week, and you could only offer Yeosang so much space for his luggage.

You didn’t know how long he was staying but with the train station shut down and under maintenance-you both had quite a long way from Busan.

“Ai-seu-keu-lim…”, your ears and eyes perk up to give notice to the wind-blown haired man beside you. His tracks slow to a stop as his eyes are coated in a glaze.

“Ai-seu-? Keu-lim? Ice cream?” You decipher uncertainly, only to find a delicious Samanco strawberry ice cream waffle sandwich on a convenience store's window with a small chunk bitten from it.

“Okay! Let’s get ice cream! My treat.” The two of you rush for the door with the excitement of children entering a candy store.

“Yea, woo-hoo~, Yeosang childishly shouts upon walking in the mini connivence shop. Oh, annyeonghaseyo!” You giggle in endearment at Yeosang's embarrassment and slightly bow to the store owner to give the same greeting.

You both speedily walk in a darted line for the strawberry Samanco, but when Yeosang got a look at the frozen item in your hands along with the other options deep in the freezer- he started contemplating for a bit of time. “It seems like you changed your mind, Yeosang.”

He blinks rapidly to avert his focus onto you for reassurance. “Aniyo (“No.”), I think I will also get strawberry fish. But, driver I also want to buy.”

Your heart melts at his selflessness, another positive trait that makes him even more charming. “Awe really? Well, maybe he’ll like the strawberry one too. Melona is also another good option. Everyone likes that.”

“Okay!” He shouts with newfound confidence. “Driver will get…Melona!” He picks up the frozen treat and carries it with his own.

He looks to you searching for approval which you give him even without him prompting you to. “Nice choice, Yeosang!”

You both settle back in the taxi munching away at the flaky breading, sickenly-sweet strawberries, and creamy vanilla ice cream.

With a little push, you encouraged Yeosang to pass the selected extra treat to the driver. He provided the offering with shaking hands, making both you and the driver fall deeper for his charm.

“Taegsi Gisanim (“Mr.Taxi Driver”)” Yeosang politely calls to the man quickly bitting into his Melona. “Can you take us to the best hotel please?” Yeosang unzips his jacket, and fishes a plentiful stack of won from his inter pocket into the drivers hand.

You nearly choke on a swallowing bit of your ice cream, coughing as you tap Yeosang’s toned shoulders. “Ya neo mwohae?”

(“Hey, what are you doing Yeosang?”)

“Let me please…don’t worry.” he begs with pressed hands, “For your kindness.”

You were too heartfelt to deny him, it wasn’t the right place, nor the time.

As the driver began to drive to your new destination, you continued to bite into the tasty treat, slightly taking notice more of Yeosang’s off-standish behaviors. Like the way he would duck anytime he felt a car came too close. You look him fully from your seat in curiosity and see the silly amounts of strawberry filling on the tip of his nose, the plump of his cheek, and the corner of his lips.

“Yaaaa, jinjja? How long are you gonna keep eating like that?”

(“Hey, seriously?”)

With an expression mixed with fear and surprise, Yeosang started at you mindlessly.

“M-mwoya?”

(“What is it?”)

You feign in your irritancy, that there was no way you could be with someone as innocent and clueless as he was.

“How did you even manage to get it all over your face? Don’t you feel that?” He shakes his head promptly, ignorant of the jelly clumps on his beautiful face.

You turn over into the inside of your door, finding a box of tissues and tossing them in his direction. You grab your own from the box, swiping in places on your face to provide a demonstration.

Although he manages to miss every stain by a mere few inches. That’s when you decided to step in and just do it for him. Your hand, crumpling up a soft tissue rests just a small distance from his face.

“Can I…?”

He nods as he leans in close, his eyes trying to find interest in the roof from your close distance. Even the driver takes small peeps at the small intimacy you share, denoting it as the start of something good.

As you pull your hand away with a folded tissue, Yeosang eyes linger back, staring at the smeared red jelly, and scrunches his lips uplifting his perky cheekbones.

“Ah, I feel it!” He eagerly gestured towards his face, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Yeah now you do you silly boy!”

“Oh no!” He says with small giggles, “how long jelly?”

“Since your first bite Yeosang, and tons of people have already driven by and seen it!”

"Ah, that's why I see so many eyes," Yeosang mumbles, looking around at the passing cars with a look that changes in tension. “Yeah you goofball, what else would it be?”

“You’re right…” he playfully slaps himself on the back of his neck as some sort of self-punishment. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Ya Yeosang-ie. Gwenchanha?”

(“Hey Yeosang-ie. Are you okay?”)

“Ne.”, he remarks, eyes cast downward.

That’s when it strikes him so he takes on the guilt, his eyes immediately lock in yours. “My members say that all the time, my family members I mean. I- is hard to control.”

“Your family in Pohang?”, you verify in remembrance,

“Mm.”, he confirms.

Maybe it was just nervousness, or paranoia from this new place. In any case, he still worried you.

On the way out of the car, you didn’t even have to carry your luggage to the elevators. The staff just asked that you settle in comfortably while your luggage will be at your doors shortly. In no time flat, you were given room keys.

The gleaming mahogany doors swung open, ushering you into a grandeur that could only be described as breathtaking. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the opulent crystal chandelier hanging majestically from the ceiling, its myriad facets catching the sunlight and casting prismatic reflections across the marble floor.

The lobby stretched out before you, an expansive space that exuded an air of sophistication and old-world charm. Plush, burgundy velvet couches and armchairs were artfully arranged on the polished parquet, inviting guests to linger and bask in the refined atmosphere.

Omo, ige “Crazy Rich Asians” ingayo?, you swallow, your pupils dilating in full, marveling at the wonders you thought you’d never seen in your lifetime.

(Oh My, is this “Crazy Rich Asians”?)

Yeosang's eyes widened as he watched you bow to the locals, their bewildered expressions making him giggle.

Babogat-i gulji ma. Naleul ttalawa.

( “Don’t be silly. Follow me.”)

“Yeosang…this is crazy!”, you whisper over his shoulders in a hushed voice.

Gwenchanheul geoya. Geogjeonghaji maseyo.

(It will be fine. Don’t worry.)

As you step into the elevator, you're enveloped in a sense of sleek luxury. The walls are clad in rich, dark wood, while the floor is made of gleaming black marble. The elevator doors feature ornate, gold-plated handles shaped like lions' heads.

The hallways are equally impressive, lined with plush, crimson carpet that softly muffles the sound of footsteps. The walls are adorned with exquisite artwork, each piece a masterpiece from a renowned artist.

Once you and Yeosang make it in front of your respective dorms, your bags are ready and waiting. Before you looked inside he beckoned for your attention with a calm hand on your shoulder. “My room okay? Call me for help. I call you too.”

With a gentle smile, you turn to face Yeosang, appreciating his thoughtfulness. You ale your hand to cover his on your shoulder before it spent slips away. "Thank you for this Yeosang. Same goes for you – if you need anything, just call."

Yeosang grins wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I will! Sweet dreams, and have a good night!”

He gives your shoulder a final squeeze before letting his hand drop. With a wave, he disappears into his room, leaving you boy to part ways for the time being.

…

LATER THAT NIGHT…

After being surprised with a pre prepared bath in rose petals- you began to question why you’re hear and what you actually deserve. Just as you reached for the phone for Yeosang, you heard four consecutive knocks on your door. “Room service!”

A confused “ne” escapes from your voice as a butler presents you with a white-skirted table with metal-covered cuisines.

You watch as he fishes silverware and napkins from his aprons pocket while you’re cowering in your robe in the nearest corner.

He smiles at you briefly as his hands falls flat on the sides of his thighs. “Jeulgyeo!”

(“Enjoy!”)

Then just like that he walks out like he never came in.

You uncover the plates and see the steak, pasta, and chocolate-covered strawberries….

Food you never ordered.

You immediately call Yeosang.

“Yeoboseyo?”, his voice breaks in, chewing what might be his delivered food in between as he spoke.

(“Hello?”)

“Yeosang…I think your food accidentally came to my room.”

“Oh, no” , he politely denies. “I order food for you. You don’t like it?”, he says In a reassuring tone, voice lingering with worry.

“Oh no no no, I just, I didn’t...” You sigh in defeat, eyes marbling at the magnificent presentations of the dishes. “Thank you so much, i do like it…but you didn’t have to. You know?”

A breath of relief blows in the other side of line. “It's okay. I want for you because you're so very kind to me.”

Guilt and gratefulness battle in your heart, fighting for the appropriate feeling to your fortunate situation. “Thank you Yeosang. This is all so unreal.”

“You’re welcome!” he playfully shouts. “I will wash up and we sleep for morning, okay?”

“Okay have a good night! Thank you again.”-

“Ne~, jeulgyeo!”

(“Yes~, enjoy!”)

The meal you had was a foreign experience for your tastebuds while the water pressure of the shower opened up your deepest pores.

_____________🚂

Walking up in the hotel room couldn’t even be fully defined in the phrase of ‘out-of-body’. The first things your eyes see is a masterclass in understated elegance. You're greeted by a plush, king-sized bed draped in luxurious silk sheets the color of rich cream. The bed frame is made of intricately carved mahogany, matching the elegant side tables that flank the bed.

A seating area near the window boasts a plush, L-shaped sofa upholstered in a complementary shade of burgundy velvet, with a glass coffee table bearing a vase of fresh, long-stemmed roses.

The room's pièce de résistance, however, is the grand, marble fireplace set into the wall opposite the bed. A fire crackles merrily within, casting a warm, inviting glow over the space. Above it hangs a gilded mirror, reflecting the dancing flames and amplifying the cozy atmosphere.

You're sitting in bed, dressed warmly for the chilly weather, when you hear a knock on your door. In your mind you have not a clue on what the day lies ahead.

Your new next-door neighbor, the charmingly-clueless-teddy tear Yeosang is behind it of course. Yet only he looks different, his face more natural and bare. His mask still lies on his face, but for the time being it rests on his chin.

“Good Morning!” He tilts and springs to his feet with surprise.

You smile briefly before further marveling at his gorgeous face, your eyes beaming as you notice a large red mark near his right eye. “Oh my…wait? Wait…Yeosang, I think you’re bleeding!”

He looks at you with widening eyes, looking over his own body

“Omo, eodi?”.

(“Oh no, where?”)

He slightly panics as his eyes flutter, but his body comes to a standstill as he lets you spectate.

The ideas that come to your mind are plundering, but only a few present themselves in your words. “I think it’s pink eye…but it’s outside, and not in? Oh no. What if it’s a ruptured blood clot?!”

“Eodi, eodi?”

(“Where, where?”)

Yeosang repeats, the word ruptured spooking him fairly enough.

Your face is saddened as you slowly reach to touch his wound. “It’s right…here.”

“Ow!”, He hisses in pain, his body tensing before bending over to coddle himself while holding his hand over the mark.

“Oh no! Did that hurt? Yeosang I’m so sorry I-” All of a sudden you hear small giggles wrack over his tall body.

“Yeosang! Why are you laughing you lunatic?”, you whisper-shout, voice laced with concern.

“Forgive me please!” He pleads in between dying giggles. He daps his fingers over the mark, proving it to be a permanent part of his natural body. “It’s just my birthmark, I’m okay!”

A quick exhale is relief from your lungs, your face fading to be expressionless. “Ugh, you scared me! And you kept swatting me away…I thought you were really in pain!”

He takes a step back to bow in apology. “Sorry, I meant for this only to be small joke.”

Your lips frown slightly as you watch his body droop with shame- causing your hand to fly to your chest as your heart drops in guilt. “You scared me half to death. Here I was, worrying about your eye, and it's just... a part of you."

“Sorry.” His mouth fumbles in a pout. You watch as his feet swivel into the floor, as if he were trying to bury himself to be seen from your sight.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. It’s beautiful by the way. The longer I stare at it, it shapes into something new.” You say mostly to yourself, given that Yeosang was shying away even after his little stunt. “How do you feel about it? Your birthmark?”

His timid look takes on an entirely different feel, one of self reflection. “I never really think about it but my fans they…” he trails off suddenly, then stuttering as he revises his sentence. “I mean my family, they always tell me it’s really pretty.”

You didn’t think too much when he mixed upthe two words, but you gave him the benefit of your doubts. English obviously didn’t come to him naturally. “Well, they must love you because they don't lie to you.”

His eyes then soften as he mentions his family further, his voice merely a whisper quieter than the wind in this early morning. “Yeah, I'm lucky to have them in my life.”

“That you are, but, everybody needs that kind of love.”

Yeosang nods slowly, a wistful expression on his face as he ponders your words. “How about you? Who do you love that in your life?”

At first you just shake your head in embarrassment, avoiding the spotlight that beamed on you to answer. Especially as you are the one that shined it upon yourself. But then you look into his curious shining eyes and sigh. “It’s just me.”

Yeosang's expression turns thoughtful, and he tilts his head slightly, his eyes searching yours. “Everybody needs love, and someone will see you to give you some of theirs.”

Your body freezes as you grow startled. It was his most fluent sentence yet, and the most impactful. You stretch your arms above your head, arching your back slightly as if shaking off the moment's seriousness. You then falsely yawn, disguising your mouth with the back of your hand. "It's too early for all these feels. Where are we going today?”

Yeosang blinks a few times, his earlier vulnerability replaced with a gentle smile. He rubs the back of his neck, and his shoulders shrink back down to their relaxed state. "Let’s eat hotel breakfast first, then we talk about todays activities,” he says some time afterward, his voice regaining some of its usual warmth.

…

After breakfast the two of you decided what better way to begin our day besides to check the place that got us stuck here?

The train station.

As the both of it approach the train station, it's no surprise as it is still under high maintenance. Feeling a bit disappointed, you both decide to sit on a nearby bench to rest.

You take in the bustling colorful leaves wrestled by the wind, the slightly cool but bearable chills, and a cute scruffy white cat that mewls and walk toward you both across the tracks.

“Aigooo, gwiyeoun jag eun- goyangi~. Yeosang childishly babbles.

(“Oh my goodness, a cute little kitty.”)

“I mean…” he quickly tries to cover his mouth as you begin to snicker. “Hajima!” He shouts with the prettiest pout.

“Neo, gwiyeowo Yeosang-ie!”, you say playfully poking his reddened cheeks that are soft to the touch.

(“You’re so cute Yeosang-ie!”)

His attention continues to be drawn to the cat as you playfully coddle him. He began tapping on your arm, and initially you thought that he was embarrassed. However, he kept on going then pointed in front of you. Hilariously, the cat pauses and watches your sudden silly actions with confusion.

“Oh…” you whisper as you pause in your teasings. “Let me not scare it.” You grab onto his coat sleeve, pulling him off the bench with you as your knees hover over the ground. “Get low.”

The cats eyes follow through with both of your flows in movement, it’s eyes gloss over with a color changing sheen. “Oh my, its eyes look so scary”, Yeosang notes.

“Well, its body language says otherwise”, you kindly inform him. “Its tail is straight up with a little curl at the end.” Your pointer finger bend as you trace its tail in sight. “That means it feels friendly.”

“Oh really?!” He merrily exclaims, leaning up further to inspect the animal. “Dook dook dook~,” he clicks his tongue, trying to regain its interest. “Nice to meet you Friendly, I’m Yeosang~”

Awed by him, you ask the long-haired animal to join you both. “'Mere friendly come, come!”

“Meow~” It seems to have an effect as it turns its direction-walking toward the bench. When it approaches, it pauses its fierce struts to decide who to go, and ultimately, Yeosang wins in favor. His touches are delicate with just the small back of his pointer finger. The pretty white cat's backside arched with delight, snuggling between the both of you and purring.

“Are you cat whisperer?” He mutters, watching as its head turns over in your lap.

“Well look at who’s talking after being the chosen one to a stray cat.” In Yeosang’s hold, it turns on its back showing its belly as a sign of trust. You knew animals could sense people’s spirits, and not for a second did you doubt its judgment.

“I was a previous owner of one,” You suddenly speak, easily regaining Yeosang’s listening ears. “Her name was Clementine, an orange tabby cat.”

He hums as he listens attentively, reaching his hand to stroke the kitty’s tummy. “Where’s Clementine now?”

As you point to the gray clouds in the sky, you remark, "Cloud surfing" then momentarily adding, "Kidney disease.” You whispered softly to yourself, "No wonder she drank so much water."

He turns toward you, eyes raking over the side of your sorrowed face. “At least Clementine can be in meow meow paradise now. Eating all the fishes- and scratching all the furniture she wants.”

You burst into fits of laughter, turning to Yeosang and budging him over playfully with your shoulder. “Oh gosh, you’re right. She loved doing all of that!”

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you grow fond of the elegant cat lying on your lap. “At least we can enjoy Friendly here together now, and eventually he and Clementine will be cloud surfing forever together in meow meow paradise.”

“Best friends.”, Yeosang adds quickly from his thoughts.

“This is so worth getting rabies for.”, you teasingly reply. Easing the incoming intensity. Yeosang laughs deeply, each noise filled with joy.

“Seonsyain!” (“Sunshine!”) A voice belonging to an older woman rings across the tracks, walking quickly as she heads towards the bench the kitty springs up from.

“Geogi isseo nae sarang!”

(“There you are my love!”)

“Gamsahabnida! Geuneun hangsang gung geumhaehago nachseon salamdeul eul mannanda.”

(“Thank you so much! He always wondering off and meeting strangers.”)

“O geulae? Nan neol mideul su eobso Seonsyain!”

(“Oh is that so? I can’t believe you Sunshine!”)

Yeosang sass with his hand on his hips, only mockingly pretending to be upset. “Imposter!” Yeosang points and shouts, making Sunshine scurry away to his rightful owner.

The elder lady scoops him up and coddles him like a newborn child, and he turns his head in her chest.

She swaddles Sunshine as he tweedles off her small coos, glancing back up at the both of you sitting side by side.

“Neohui duleun hamkke gwiyeobda. Keopuel iseyeo?”

(“You two are cute together. Are you a couple?”)

The synchronization in which you both bulge eyes at one another makes it seem as if your next words are a tale.

Ani! Chingudeul!

(“No! just friends!”)

“Geureom kkwae saelobgessji…? Geulsse, mannaseo bangawosseo. Annyeong Seonsyain!”

(Must be fairly new then…? Well, it was nice to meet you. Say bye Sunshine.”)

Sunshine lacked the decency to even look in your guys' direction. As if he hadn’t been rubbing feverishly between the both of you minutes ago.

As you both part ways on opposite sides of the tracks, scolding and high-pitched meows echo in the distance. You let out a giggle when it was safe, nudging a light elbow jab into Yeosang’s biceps. “What do you think about that?”

“Oh well it was unexpected but…” he says thinking about the word “couple”, as a label settling so easily onto you two.

“No seriously, I can’t believe Sunshine only pretended to be friendly after all! Still, I can’t deny it, he’s just too cute.”

Yeosang’s hand graces right in the area your elbow nudges him, rubbing it soothingly. “It’s a bit cold right?”

Your eyebrows furrow. With only a half hour gone by, and the meeting of a fluffy white cat, you had just noticed the blowing wind carrying a slight chill.

“Yeah…it’s gotten worse since we’ve got here. Right in the middle of the season change.” Just then the hairs on your neck become prickly, running an uncontrollable shiver down your spine. “I could go for a hot cocoa, or even boba...”

Following your suggestion, Yeosang turns in his seat and regains consciousness from his perplexed thoughts. “Oh, that’s right! Like a…goyangi cape?” Yeosang happily exclaims.

(“...cat cafe?”)

“Yes, that’s perfect! Well done, Yeosang!”, you praise. At this rate, any idea of his was always a bright one. You honestly just love the way his eyes shine after you compliment him. “You still trust cats after this?”

“Oh well actually…”, he says as his hand come to stroke his cloth covered chin, “I have mind change…”

“I’m kidding!”, you playfully cry. “It does sound warm and snuggly though. We could go”, you propose.

“Okay then,” Yeosang declares, let’s find real friendly goyangi and drink delicious drinks!”

“Yay!’”, you shout as you parade happily off the bench. Yeosang just joyfully followed you along, as you waved for the next taxi. Yeosang despite the weather felt warm inside to see where the next adventure could take the two of you.

…

As you both enter the cafe, the soft glow of the pendant lights hanging from the ceiling casts a warm, inviting ambiance. The walls are adorned with art of various cats in adorable poses. A calming aroma of lavender and freshly ground coffee beans welcomes the both of you.

Despite the cafe being packed with patrons, the atmosphere remains surprisingly calm and orderly. Customers chat softly as they sip their drinks, some engrossed in conversation while others play with the curious felines weaving between the tables.

Yeosang carefully pulls you to sit at a small table near the walls behind a ceiling to floor beam-pulling down his beanie further over his eyes. He even grabs a side piece of his hair, patting the right side to sit directly on his birthmark.

You fidget with the hem of your sleeve, eyes darting around the bustling cafe. It's not the crowd that unnerves you, but the fear that derives from Yeosang. You tap the table twice, causing his head to perk up as you force a smile. You level your fingers up and down your torso, taking a deep breath- trying to push down the familiar flutter of anxiety in both of your chests.

The barista, a cheerful young woman with cat ears on her headband, notices the both of you and walks over. “Whiskers & Beans osin geoseul hwanyeonghabnida!” Jeoneun Mochi inbnida.”

( “Welcome to Whiskers & Beans!' 'I'm Mochi.”)

The two of you greet her in the opposite mood of her cheerful state. Considering she was the one at work, everything felt severely displaced.

“Oh annyeongsaeho…”, you nervously bow in greeting.

(“Oh, hello…”)

“Ne.” She commends. “Masigo sipeun geosi isseubnikka? Keopi? Boba?”

(“Is there anything you would like to drink?” Coffee? Boba?”)

“Erm…” You look to Yeosang who hasn’t even spared the woman a glance. Which you hope may conclude that he hasn’t came to a decision yet? You couldn’t be sure yourself. “I’ll have a strawberry popping boba with strawberry milk tea.” She nods as you speak diligently taking down the order on her pad.

“Seonsaegngnim?”

(“And you sir?”)

Without promoting him further, the waitress slightly lowers her head to check in with him on a closer level, but he remains in a still. Only you were attentive enough to notice his tapping finger on the menu. “Oh! Uhhh-”

“He’ll have the passion fruit tea with…” his finger moves to the topping section “Mango popping boba”, you add on.

Mochi's cheerful demeanor faltered at Yeosang's silence, casting an uncomfortable glance his way. But you intercepted her look, offering a small, apologetic smile. “Gamsahabnida!” (“Thanks!”) you called after her retreating figure, trying to dispel the lingering tension.

“Arraseo….”, she mutters, then walking off to the kitchen in front.

(“Got it….”)

As you calmly revert your attention to Yeosang you gently asked, "Yeosang-ah, gwenchanaeyo?" As he curled his arms around himself, he mumbled something about the cold weather as he shrugged.

(“Yeosang-ah…is everything okay?”)

You couldn’t bother him about the matter. He did have a solid point about the weather. But yet the cafe was quite warm with the heating and the fluffy fuzzy animals.

As you waited for your drinks, you reached for the stack of colorful kids' paper menus in the center of the table. A subsequent means of distraction. “Hey, let's color these while we wait.” you suggested, pushing a menu and a limited set of crayons towards Yeosang.

Yeosang hesitated for a moment before picking up a crayon, his fingers moving slowly and deliberately as he began to color the kitten balancing on a ball. The simple, repetitive motion seemed to soothe him, and he soon became absorbed in the task- his shoulders relaxing slightly.

By the time Mochi, the waitress, had set your drinks down, Yeosang's menu was a riot of colors - a vibrant distraction from his earlier discomfort. She smiled approvingly at the sight, her earlier discomfort forgotten.

You took a sip of your drink, feeling the sweet and spongy flavors and textures mingle on your tongue. Yeosang continued to color quietly, the gentle scrape of the crayon against the paper the only sound breaking the cafe's gentle hum.

With your tall beverages only half finished in to-go cups, you and Yeosang joined the other patrons at the cat lounge. A more brightly lit room filled with plush cushions, cat trees, and a cacophony of purrs.

Yeosang carefully set aside his colored menu, and drink, his eyes immediately drawn to a fluffy grey kitten curled up in a ball on a nearby cushion. He reached out a hand, letting the kitten sniff his fingers before gently petting its soft fur.

The kitten, seemingly approving of Yeosang's touch, uncurled and began to nuzzle into his hand. Yeosang's face lit up with a genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Crouching down beside Yeosang, you teasingly asked, “Are you a cat whisperer?”, recalling his earlier question at the bus station. His reaction was sudden and silly - he pressed a finger to his lips and made a ' shhh' sound. The kitten, oblivious to the drama, continued to purr contentedly in his hand.

Unable to resist the adorable sight, you pulled out your phone and snapped a quick photo of Yeosang and the kitten. He glanced up at the sound of the camera click, a faint blush coloring his cheeks at being caught in such a tender moment.

"'Was that okay?” you asked, showing him the photo. “I won’t post it anywhere, promise.” Yeosang looked at the screen, his eyes softening as he took in the image. You take his silence as rejection, understandably reaching to click the trash button.

Until he grabs the tip of your finger as it was merely an inch from nonexistence. "It’s okay. Can I see it again?” he asked softly. You handed him the phone, watching as he traced the image of the kitten with his fingertip, and the outer corner of his lids folding with a happy crinkle.

After a moment, Yeosang handed the phone back to you, “Keep it”, he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I like it.'"

Your afternoon was filled with hours of playing with the various cats, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. In your joint effort, you poked laser pointers at them, fed them treats, and even attempted to teach a particularly stubborn kitten how to play fetch, and just as it mastered the skill for the very first time, it flopped on its side from exhaustion.

As the daylight began to wane, you both found yourselves by the cash register, browsing the selection of cat-themed merchandise.

"Oh, look how cute, Sangie~," you exclaimed, gesturing towards a display of face masks adorned with various mouths and whiskers.

"Hehe, majayo” (“you're right”),' he chuckled softly, reaching out to gently touch one of the masks. “Which is my style?” Yeosang asks with a playful glint in his eye, clearly enjoying your shared amusement over the adorable face coverings.

You pointed out a black mask with lined blush and adorable fangs that peeked from a smile. “I like this one,” you giggle with a grin.

"'Really? My style?” Yeosang asked, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he examined the mask more closely. He held it up to his face, peering at you over the top of it with a mischievous glare. “How do I look?"

"'Yaong yaong~'" you cooed in a playful, exaggerated cat voice. It couldn’t have suited Yeosang any better. A flustered kitten with a little hidden mischief. He chuckles, the sound muffled slightly by the soft fabric and the mark he already had on. He gently sets the mask back on the display, walking toward the exit and beckoning you slyly to come along.

As Yeosang turned assuming you were to follow, you swiftly grabbed the mask and a cat blanket for yourself, jogging to the cash register. "I'm going to get this for you," you declared, pulling out your phone to tap on the machine before he could intervene.

“Ya! Wae geuleohge babo gateun geol eodneun geoya?”

(“Hey! Why would you get something so silly?”)

He playfully groans as the cashier fixes to place the item in a miniature bag. He removes his hat momentarily to push his hair back under, unintentionally grabbing the attention of the workers up front.

The cashier's eyes widened as she locked onto Yeosang, her voice filled with excitement and slight disbelief. "Oh, Seonsaengnim! Neo Yeosang-iya? K-pop idol?" she asked, her gaze bouncing between Yeosang and you.

Not before long it attracted the started of nearby strangers gazes. Yeosang's expression shifted, his demeanor becoming as it were when you first came in.

“O mianhe, nan nega malhaneun Yeosang-I Aniya.”

(“Sorry. Im not this Yeosang you speak of.”) he says in a much deeper voice, avoiding eye contact as he spoke in a lower register than his usual tone.

The cashier looked slightly taken aback, her brow furrowing briefly as if trying to reconcile the disguised face before her with the famous idol she thought she'd recognized.

“A neo jeongmal dalmasseo! Mian.”

(“Oh you look just alike! Sorry…” ) She paused, then shrugged as she rang up the purchase.

As you paid for the mask, you couldn’t help but let your mind race as you walked beside Yeosang out of the shop. Who was the man you were with? If he was famous, why did he deny it? Was he some sort of star gone incognito?

You stole glances at him as you both strolled along the bustling street. He seemed so normal, so... un-famous. Yet, the cashier's reaction and his odd response gnawed at your curiosity. You bit your lip, debating whether to ask him outright or let the mystery linger.

As you walked, you finally found the courage to ask, "Who is this guy the cashier confused you with? Another Yeosang?" You looked at him sideways, hoping to catch a glimpse of his reaction. Would he laugh it off again, or maybe reveal a hint about his true identity?

Yeosang's expression remained neutral as he replied, “Famous K-pop idol. It happens a lot in Korea." he said nonchalantly, his tone mirroring his previous denial.

“Oh..maja.” You whisper.

(“Oh right.”)

And yet the events that you’ve experienced a K-pop idol accused of being a K-pop idol is in the airport. Typically, they are 90% are true to their character. But possibly, there just might be a first time for everything.

The city streets become peaceful at the hour. Working civilians have gotten off from their work shifts and into their homes, leaving the streets nearly vacant with only other walkers being seen every few minutes. You both walk further, strolling with crowding thoughts that equate to your footsteps.

Just as you were in the heart of another town, a bridge and its underpass by a nearby lake comes into view. “How would you like to sit by the lake for a moment?”

Yeosang glances around near and far from the area that surrounds it as he contemplates all the odds. There isn’t any, there weren’t any to begin with, but precautions are his safety nets from the unnecessary recognition.

"Sure, that sounds nice," he agreed, following your gaze to a serene lake nearby. As you both found a spot to sit on a bench overlooking the water, he pulls down his mask briefly, inhaling the biggest breath of fresh air.

…

Some time had passed, enough that the light of day had disappeared, and the awakening of all street lights. You found yourself sitting cross-legged with a lucious cat blanket covering you and Yeosang by the lake's edge. Thankfully he brought hot packs that burn into your skin so good with the freezing cold. The two of you were engaged in an intense game of rock paper scissors, giggling as you made your gestures.

Yeosang let out a triumphant "ololololol" with his tongue as he won yet again, his fingers wiggling tauntingly in front of your face. He couldn't help but laugh at your expressions, which ranged from slight irritation to full-blown pouting.

As you let out a frustrated gasp when he won yet again, Yeosang suddenly embraces your entire head in his hands, his laughter echoing around you as he hugs it slightly. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," he apologizes between giggles, before clearing his throat, tilting your head back in place, and masking a instant serious expression.

“Ya, you’re lucky you’re so cute.”Yeosang cheeks burn and blossom as he tries to hide his smile, even without you looking. Your head was still casted downward after your slip. Thank goodness for the weather, because you feel like Rudolph the way your skin burns so bright.

Once he shoved down his feelings, which came to him naturally as he learned to manage his professionalism over the years- he embraces your head once again. You meet his eyes in the mellow lights, they’re still warm with a different feel.

Yeosang perceives the connection as a means to continue the game, but behind his eyes you could see his worried mind. It’s been that way since you left the cafe. Out of respect you let the subject lie in peace, but you couldn’t help but let it rise out of your mouth once more.

“Yeosang-ssi?” The formal title you call to him certainly swings his mood pushed further by your monotoned voice. “N-ne?”

“Dangsin-eun hangug deulamaui beau ibnikka?”

(“Could it be that you’re an actor in a kdrama?”)

Yeosang's eyes widen slightly at your question, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he quickly composes himself. He hesitates for a moment, seeming to weigh his words carefully. "I am not actor,” he responds, his tone carefully neutral even as a faint blush colors his cheeks.

You nervously chews on your lips, flicking the skin around your nail bed like a lighter as the forming hangnails burn to the touch. You’re most afraid of making any wrong moves or saying something that could potentially ruin the newfound friendship.“Well then…who are you? Can you tell me?”

Yeosang sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks out at the lake. "I can't," he says softly, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water against the small grass hill’s edge. He glances at you, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and frustration.

“Will you get in trouble?” The pressure to maintain this new bond adds to the anxiety, making even the simplest actions seem fraught with danger.

Yeosang's gaze lingers on yours for a moment before he looks away, his jaw clenching. "Yes, I will get in trouble," he admits, his voice low and strained. He pauses, seeming to consider his next words carefully before speaking in a rushed whisper, "So please keep my secret. I still tell you." He reaches out, hesitantly placing his hand on your arm in a comforting gesture.

As Yeosang finishes speaking, he looks at you with pleading eyes, his hand still resting on your arm. The atmosphere is heavy with tension, the sound of the lake's gentle waves and the soft blowing wind as the only other frequencies. You can feel the weight of his secret, the risk he's taking by sharing it with you.

Your eyes glimmer with radiance as you watch Yeosang shine under the street light, “Of course you’re an idol Yeosangie. You are kind and handsome. You’re the best.”

Yeosang blinks, seemingly caught off guard by your response. Then, a slow smile spreads across his face, his shoulders relaxing. "You're not upset?" he asks softly, his thumb gently brushing against your arm.

“No. I'm happy now! Everything makes so much sense.” You point toward his mask and hat that covers the majority of his face.

Yeosang's smile widens, relief washing over him as he reaches up to completely remove his mask and hat, revealing his true face to you. His features are even more striking without the coverings, his sharp jawline and piercing eyes making your heart skip a beat.

“Daebak…neo jeongmal maelyeogjeogiya.”

(“Amazing…you’re really charming.”)

Yeosang's face flushes a deep red as you compliment his appearance, his eyes darting away shyly. “Ah you…kure? (really)” he stammers, his words tumbling out in a jumbled but endearing way. "I feel... happy. Very happy."

As you watched Yeosang grow increasingly flustered by your compliments, you couldn't help but be amused. With a knowing smirk, you tapped him on the thigh and asked him to showcase his hidden talents. You couldn't wait to see what talents he had been hiding from all this time. “Can you show new a dance?”

Yeosang's eyes widen at your request, a nervous energy suddenly filling his body. "Dance? For you?" he asks, his voice trembling slightly. He takes a deep breath, seeming to gather his courage. "Okay…I try.”

“Fighting!” You shout encouragingly with a firm fist.

Yeosang blushes at your gratitude, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he stands up. "Fighting" he murmurs, before taking a deep breath as he tires in the search bar of a music streaming app, then beginning to dance.

“Oh... jjakaman!” You jump up with a waning hand. What song is this?”

Yeosang pauses mid-movement, tilting his head in confusion. "Song?" he echoes before slightly picking out his phone from his pocket. "It’s very famous Korean dance song. You know PSY?”

A chuckle burst from your lungs and floats into smoke in the chilling air. “Everyone knows PSY Yeosang-ah. But, I want to know you, Yeosang. I want your song.”

Yeosang bites his lip, hesitating for a moment before nodding shyly. He taps into the search bar once again. "Okay...this is my group’s debut song, Pirate King," he announces. He pulls out wireless headphones this time and onto your ears. He slowly takes steps backward to conduct his very own live-action show.

“Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang!”

Yeosang's eyes light up at your chanting, a bright smile spreading across his face. He starts dancing with renewed energy, his movements are fluid and graceful as he performs the choreography to "Pirate King". His face is flushed with excitement, even without hearing the music he stays sharp with every beat in his moves.

As Yeosang dances to the outro, you can't help but cheer him on, clapping and shouting his name with each flawless move. His dance is filled with complex footwork, intricate hand gestures, and powerful executions of body control. He especially made sure to go harder on his parts and he didn’t let it go unnoticed as he pointed to himself.

Yeosang finishes the dance with a powerful pose, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for your reaction. You slowly take off the headphones, your eyes wide with surprise and admiration. “You…are a superstar!”

Yeosang's face lights up at your words, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "Ohhh…aniyo~" he stutters, his eyes darting away from yours. "I...I'm glad you liked it. I practiced...a lot."

“I can see that! You did so well Yeosang-ssi!”Yeosang beams with pride at your praise, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Thank you...thank you so much," he says softly, his voice filled with gratitude. He looks down at his feet, a small smile playing on his lips as he seems to bask in your praise.

You can't help but admire Yeosang as he catches his breath, his chest rising and falling with each intake. You can't help but admire Yeosang's humble demeanor, despite his incredible talents. Slowly, you reach out and lift his chin, wanting his eyes to meet yours. His gaze locks onto yours, filled with warmth and vulnerability. "Let's go back to the hotel.”

…

Upon arriving back at the hotel, Yeosang asks, "You want to order room service?" You hesitate, before confessing, "To be honest, I'm not comfortable eating alone in my room alone. Would it be okay if I stayed with you for a while?"

Yeosang's eyes widen slightly at your request, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Oh! Of course, you're welcome to join me," he says softly, his voice warm with genuine hospitality. He opens the door to his room, gesturing for you to enter. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

You murmur a soft "thank you" as you timidly step into Yeosang's room, taking in the unfamiliar luxury of a K-pop idol by accommodation. The layout is not too different from yours, but it's noticeably tidier.

Yeosang walks ahead and sits on his bed as he picks up the phone to order room service, Your eyes wander around him and his room, noticing the neat piles of clothes, the well-organized desk with a book and a stack of letters, and the clean bathroom visible through the open door.

Yeosang covers the phone's speaker and turns to you, his voice soft as he asks, "What would you like to eat?" But you're momentarily distracted, still taking in the cleanliness and orderliness of his room. It takes a beat for his words to sink in. "Hm?"

Yeosang scoops his hands in the air and toward his mouth, clearly indicating his question as he repeats, "What would you like to eat, love?” His expression is patient and understanding, realizing you may still be overwhelmed by the situation.

You hesitate, feeling a bit out of place and unsure of what to ask for. Your hesitation and uncertainty cause Yeosang to smile gently at you. “No worries, I'll take care of it," he assures you, his voice warm. He then speaks into the phone, ordering in Korean, his tone polite yet firm.

Yeosang sets the phone down and turns to face you, his expression soft. "All set," he says, his eyes crinkling with a warm smile. Seeing you still standing timidly by the door, he pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit.

You apologize profusely as you walk towards him, keeping a safe distance between the two of you. "I'm so sorry, Yeosang, I'm being so awkward," you mutter, your hands fidgeting nervously. Yeosang chuckles softly, patting the space beside him again.

"You...comfort, please, okay?” His eyes are hopeful, eager to bridge the gap between you two.

As you sit down beside Yeosang, keeping a respectful distance between the two of you, you notice the balcony curtains are slightly open. The city lights sparkle through the glass, creating a beautiful view. Yeosang glances at the balcony, his expression turning thoughtful.

"The view, it's...beautiful, isn't it?” Yeosang muses softly, his gaze distant as he looks at the city skyline. “It reminds me of our fans.” He turns to face you, his expression turning serious.

Your eyebrows furrow, and you pitch in before he can speak to say the thing that has been heavy on your mind. “Are you...okay with everything? Being here, with me, I mean?"

Yeosang's eyes widen slightly at your question, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. He takes a deep breath before responding, "I...I am okay. Very okay." He nods, his voice soft but sincere. "You make me feel.. safe and comfortable."

“Oh…I’m happy then. You make me feel safe too.” You look down and smile before looking outside the window along with him. “Thank you for all you’ve done Yeosang. I know this isn’t easy as an idol.”

Yeosang's heart swells with happiness at your words, his face lighting up with a warm smile. He looks down at you, his gaze filled with affection before turning his attention back to the view outside the window. "You’re worth it. It's my honor," he says softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

Your heart swells with emotion at Yeosang's words, and before you can rein it in, tears well up in your eyes. You try to hide them, looking down and blinking rapidly, but a telltale sniffle escapes you.

Yeosang's eyes widen with concern as he notices your tears. In a flustered but adorable manner, he jumps up from the bed and scampers to the bathroom on the opposite side, grabbing a handful of tissues. He rushes back to you, his brow furrowed with worry.

"I'm fine no need to fuss," you insist, waving your hands as Yeosang tries to gently dab at your tears. He frowns, looking unsure whether to respect your wishes or press on the matter.

"No, no, let me help..." he insists softly, but is interrupted by a knock at the door. A muffled voice calls out, “Room service Yeosang-ssi!”

Yeosang hurriedly calls out a bright, "Ne!" confirming his consent for the room service to enter. As the door opens, he turns to you with a gentle smile, expecting to share a moment... but you've suddenly vanished. You've quickly rolled under the bed to be kept out of sight, leaving Yeosang bewildered.

Yeosang's eyes widen as he realizes where you've disappeared. He panics briefly, his mouth opening and closing silently like a fish out of water. He hurriedly tries to compose himself as the room service attendant wheels in a cart filled with delicious-looking food. “Kansamida!”

The attendant smiles warmly at Yeosang, asking if there's anything else he can do for him. However, Yeosang is too distracted by the need to retrieve you from under the bed to pay much attention. He quickly declines, saying "No, nothing else is needed, thank you."

Jeulgyo!" the attendant responds politely, bowing before backing out of the room and closing the door behind him. As soon as the door clicks shut, Yeosang rushes to the bed, crouching down to peer underneath. "Hey...come out, please?"

You shift around under the bed, but the confined space makes it difficult for you to move. After a moment of struggling, you poke your hand out from under the bed, waving it helplessly. "Uh, Yeosang...I think I'm stuck," you call out, your voice muffled.

Yeosang's eyes widen with concern as he sees your hand waving helplessly from under the bed. He immediately drops to his knees, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. "Don't worry, I've got you.”

With a strong grip, Yeosang pulls you out from under the bed, his arms wrapping around your back to strengthen his grip. In his eagerness, he pulls you so hard that you end up tumbling into his lap, your face flushing red from the sudden close contact. "Are you okay?"

You quickly scramble out of Yeosang's lap, your face flushed with embarrassment. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to...um, fall on you like that," you stammer, avoiding his gaze. “but um… I'm okay.”

Yeosang rises to his feet smoothly, a gentle smile playing on his lips despite the awkward situation. He extends his hand towards you, his eyes warm and twinkling with amusement. "It's alright. Let’s eat our dinner and watch a movie together.

You look up at him with endearing eyes, your heart fluttering in your chest. You gently grasp his hand, feeling the difference in his touch this time. His grip is gentler, more careful. "Okay," you whisper, allowing him to help you up.

You both settle onto the couch, surrounded by the mountain of food Yeosang had ordered. As you watch several K-dramas, you snack on the delicious spread, marveling at how much food there is. You can easily eat dinner, breakfast, and lunch out of this haul, and still have leftovers.

As the night wears on, the K-drama binge continues, the volume low as the characters whisper and declare their love for one another. You, having become increasingly comfortable around Yeosang, lowered yourself to be nestled in his shoulder.

Yeosang's eyes widen as you settle into his side, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. His hands hover uncertainly at his sides for a moment before he hesitantly rests them on your arms, giving you a gentle, almost tentative stroke to your skin.

Time slips away as you both become engrossed in the drama. It's only when Yeosang glances at his watch that he realizes how late it has gotten. "It's...it's really late," he murmurs, He looks over at you, expecting you to nod in agreement and maybe suggest retiring to your own room...

But instead, he finds you curled up asleep on his lap, your head resting on his bicep and your arms wrapped around a soft, fluffy kitten blanket. Yeosang's heart melts at the adorable sight, but he's also aware of his awkward situation.

Gently, Yeosang tries to ease out from under you, but his movements only cause you to groan softly and burrow closer, your arms tightening around the kitten blanket and pulling him back down.

Faced with your snug, sleeping form, Yeosang decides it's just easier to sit back and try to fall asleep himself. He carefully adjusts his position, laying back against the couch with you still curled up on his lap.

His mind races with thoughts as he tries to fall asleep. The warmth of your body against his, the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing, and the gentle weight of your head on his side all conspire to keep him awake. As he relaxes, Yeosang finds his eyelids growing heavy. The rhythmic sound of your gentle snores fills the room, lulling him into a relaxed state. He takes one last look at you, a soft smile playing on his lips before he, too, drifts off to sleep.

As dawn breaks, the first rays of sunlight peek through the cracks in the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stir, awakening from a deep slumber to find yourself draped over a warm, unfamiliar torso. For a moment, confusion reigns supreme as your bleary eyes as they struggle to focus.

Then after your memory returns, as you recall the events of the previous day - the impromptu cat cafe run, the hand games and conversation by the romantic lake, a dramatic yet entertaining k drama, and the exhaustion that led to you falling asleep on Yeosang.

Flustered, you quickly disentangle yourself from his limbs, your face flaming with embarrassment. You carefully shift his body to lay him down comfortably before tiptoeing around the room, straightening cushions and tidying up the remnants of last night's snacking.

As you work, your mind races with thoughts of how to make things right. You decide that the perfect way to reward Yeosang for the wonderful day he gave you yesterday would be to take him to the arcade once he wakes. he seemed so excited when he won all the games you played yesterday, so it just made sense.

Satisfied with the cleanliness of the room, you grab your phone and check the time. It's still early, so you decide to hop in your shower next door and freshen up before Yeosang wakes.

You throw over a blanket on his relaxed body and tiptoe out of the room as you slowly pull the latch close to lessen the clicking noise of the closed door.

You find yourself smiling under the steam, your heart fluttering in your chest. It's then that you realize just how much you've come to care for Yeosang in such a short time. You quickly shake off the thought, attributing it to the romantic atmosphere of the dramas you'd watched last night.

Yet his kindness, his laughter, his passion for his infamous job, and his devastatingly handsome face all flash through your mind.

You step out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy towel from its warmer around you as you dry off. As you're getting dressed, you hear the sound of movement from the other room.

Your ears perk up at the sound, and you can't help but grin. You finish getting dressed quickly, pulling on a warm comfortable outfit that still looks put-together. You make your way to sit in your bedroom just as Yeosang starts to stir awake.

Yeosang stretches languidly, his arms reaching high above his head as he blinks his eyes open. He looks around dazedly for a moment, his gaze landing on the tidied-up living room.

A soft smile plays on his lips as he remembers the events of the previous night. He sits up, rubbing his eyes before freshening up in hopes of you two beginning another day together.

As the water cascades over him, Yeosang too finds his mind drifting to yesterday, to last night. His thoughts mirror yours - your smile, your laughter, your kindness. But unlike you, Yeosang is more confused about these feelings.

He's been in the industry long enough to know that such thoughts are natural when spending enough time with a person. But these feelings feel... different. They feel deeper, more profound. And it unnerves him.

He turns off the shower, stepping out to dry himself. As he gets dressed, he can't shake off the thoughts. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, his expression unreadable. "It's probably just... only me," he murmurs to himself, trying to convince himself more than anything.

Yeosang steps out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and his face fresh from the shower. He's dressed casually in a comfortable cardigan and jeans, looking every bit as handsome as he did yesterday and more. As he opens his front door, he finds you standing there, a warm smile on your face.

Yeosang's eyes widen slightly in surprise, but it's quickly replaced by a bright smile. "Good morning," he says, his voice still slightly husky from sleep. "Good morning, how did you sleep?” you ask.

"Quite well, actually," Yeosang replies, a slight giggle escaping his lips. "The couch is surprisingly comfortable.”

You rub the back of your neck sheepishly, "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. I didn’t mean to. Yesterday was just so well spent with you that it left me exhausted," you admit.

Yeosang waves off your apology, his smile growing wider. "No, no, it's fine! I enjoyed it," he confesses, his cheeks flushing slightly.

You slowly nod, your eyes meeting his. There's a moment of silence between you both, the air thick with unspoken words. Eventually, you break the silence, "So, I was thinking, we could go to the arcade today, if you'd like."

Yeosang's face lights up with excitement. "The arcade? With games and the prizes?" he asks, his voice eager. You laugh, nodding in confirmation. "Exactly like that," you reply. "Unless, of course, we can see if the train is running again?”

Yeosang's excitement dims slightly at the mention of the train, but he quickly recovers. “Actually this morning I find app about train," He pulls out his phone and opens the train app to check the schedule.

You chew your lips nervously. Not wanting to pull away from him so soon when you felt like you’ve hadn’t even repaid the half of your debts. “So…what does it say?”

"Let me see..." Yeosang mutters, scrolling through the app. "Ah…still no good.”

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, relief washing over you. "Well then, arcade it is," you say with a smile. "But first, let's go grab some breakfast downstairs.”

Yeosang nods, a grateful smile on his face. "Sounds perfect," he says, already moving towards the door.

As Yeosang reaches for the doorknob, you gently touch his arm, making him pause. "Your mask," you remind him softly, looking up at him with a gentle smile. Yeosang turns back to you, his brow furrowing in confusion for a moment before he remembers.

A sheepish grin spreads across Yeosang's face as he reaches up and grabs his mask from where it hangs around his neck. "Ah, right. Thanks for remembering," he says, slipping it on. “I guess I’m so excited.”

You smile warmly at Yeosang, "Come on, let's go eat. I'm starving," you say, leading the way out of the room. As you walk to the elevator, you can't help but steal glances at Yeosang, admiring his profile.

…

As you step out of the cab, you hear Yeosang's sharp intake of breath behind you. "Wow..." he murmurs, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of the three-story arcade standing before you both. "It's...tall" he finishes, a note of awe in his voice.

You giggle at Yeosang's reaction, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow. "Yeah, just like you," you tease, your eyes twinkling with mirth. Yeosang flushes at the comparison, but he's grinning from ear to ear.

You lead Yeosang inside, the sounds of games and laughter enveloping you both. You approach the token counter, asking for a small bucketful. The attendant counts out the tokens into a red plastic bucket, which you take with a smile, paying him before turning back to Yeosang.

"Let's play some games!," you suggest, shaking up the bucket of tokens. Yeosang's eyes light up, and he eagerly follows you to the nearest shooting game. You both take turns, making pew-pew noises as you pull the trigger, laughing and competing with each other.

After a few rounds of the shooting game, you move on to a rhythm game, noticing Yeosang's keen interest. He watches you play for a moment before hesitantly stepping up to the machine. You cheer him on, offering suggestions and guidance as he tries his hand.

Yeosang's face lights up with determination as he starts playing, his fingers moving quickly across the buttons. You clap and cheer him on, his confidence growing with each successful combo. Eventually, he finishes the song, beaming with pride. "I did it!"

You pull him into a tight hug, laughing. "You did amazing!" You grin mischievously, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the next game.

The fast-paced excitement of air hockey quickly becomes your favorite game. The puck zips back and forth, each of you determined to outscore the other. When the bonus round hits and dozens of pucks suddenly flood the table, it's pure chaos - and exhilarating fun!

Yeosang's eyes widen in delight as the pucks pour out, his hands a blur of motion as he frantically tries to send them flying into your goal. The frenzied pace and adrenaline rush have you both laughing breathlessly, lost in the thrill of the game.

As the game continues, a crowd begins to form, drawn by your animated cheering and the spectacle of the bonus round. Reluctantly, you both step away from the table, your game abandoned by the increasing attention.

With arms laden around a steaming pizza box, a bag of warm, chocolate dipped churros, and two towering fountain drinks, you and Yeosang find a quiet corner to sit in. The break is much-needed, allowing you both to catch your breath and refuel.

As you sit, munching on a slice of pizza, you glance at Yeosang and ask, "So, are you having a good time?" Yeosang nods enthusiastically, his mouth stain with chocolate from his churro. Once again, the little areas of his face are too covered in yummy goodness and he gives you the silliest thumbs up.

With laughter, you both continue eating, Yeosang's cheerfulness as always is infectious. You decide to head to the bathroom to clean up, taking a wet paper towel to help clean Yeosang's face.

After finishing your food and cleaning up, you both make your way to the escalator, heading up to the second floor where the virtual reality games are located. Yeosang's eyes widen with excitement as he takes in the new selection of games. "Waaa, this is so cool!"

You dive into the different VR experiences, from exploring underwater worlds to soaring through the skies. Yeosang's laughter and amazement fill the air as you both lose yourselves in these alternate realities. Eventually, your gaze lands on a peculiar game - 'Loop Idol.' "Hey, let's try this one!"

Yeosang eyes the famous 'K-pop Idol' striking pose in the game hesitantly, biting his lower lip. "Really? Isn't that kind of embarrassing?" he asks, glancing around to ensure no one is watching. However, his curiosity seems to outweigh his hesitation. After a moment of deliberation, he nods.

Yeosang awkwardly slips into the VR headset, fumbling a bit as he adjusts the straps. As the game loads, the first scene greets him with exaggerated fanfare. He can't help but snicker at how absurdly glamorous it all looks compared to reality.

The game starts throwing around exaggerated scenarios - thousands of screaming fans at every performance, instant viral fame for every post, and a ridiculously oversized mansion to live in with the other "idols". Yeosang shakes his head with amusement.

However, amidst the over-the-top fantasy, a few aspects are surprisingly true. The grueling practice schedules, the constant scrutiny of appearance and behavior, the pressure to maintain a perfect image... Yeosang finds himself nodding along, as the recollection of familiar memories comes to mind.

After completing the 'K-pop Idol' scenario, Yeosang pulls off the VR headset, cheeks slightly flushed. "It's not that bad...!" he protests weakly, glaring at you who's giggling and snapping 'photos' with an imaginary camera.

You can't help but tease Yeosang, imitating the actions of a paparazzi, snapping photos and shouting out things like "Look over here!" and "Smile, pretty boy!"

Yeosang's embarrassment grows, his face turning a deeper shade of red as he tries to duck away from the 'paparazzi'. He finally covers the uncovered portions of his face with his hands, mumbling something about how embarrassing this is. It only makes you laugh harder, enjoying Yeosang's flustered state.

You pester Yeosang playfully, pulling his hands away from his face. "Come on, don't hide!" You say with another promoted laugh. "You know what's next, right?~”, you say teasingly. “Last floor - karaoke! Ready to finally show me how well you can sing?”

Yeosang peeks out from behind his fingers, looking down at you with a pouty face. "I-I didn't say I could sing well..." he stammers, but there's a glimmer of excitement in his eyes at the prospect of karaoke.

“Well judging from the way you sang on the train…with your headphones on- I think you sing pretty well~,” you sing-song in a teasing tone.

Yeosang's face turns an even deeper shade of red, and he quickly looks away, murmuring something unintelligible.

You wink at Yeosang, quoting his impromptu performance on the train. "Let's just say, I have high expectations.” You help him up from the VR set and link arms with him. "Now, let's go show me what you've got, Yeosang-ie.”

With a gentle tug, you guide Yeosang toward the escalator leading up to the third and final floor. Yeosang hesitates for a moment before stepping onto the escalator, his heart pounding with anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

As they ascend to the karaoke floor, Yeosang takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. You squeeze his arm encouragingly as you both approach the private room. "Don't worry, I'll sing first so you'll seem amazing by comparison," you joke with a grin.

Indicated by a green ceiling light, you both enter an unoccupied, private room. As you push open the door, you're greeted by a cozy space with colorful plush sofas, a large flat screenTV, and multiple microphones with colorful plastic wrapping.

Yeosang steps inside, looking around the room with wide eyes. He notices the microphones and his gaze lingers on them before moving to the TV screen displaying the song selection. You follow him in, letting go of his arm to remove the plastic wrapping from one of the microphones.

“Now, what's your poison, Yeo?” You ask, plopping down onto one of the sofas. “Ballad? Pop? hip hop?”

"Uh... poison?” Yeosang blinks rapidly, tilting his head to the side as he processes the word. He hesitates for a moment, then asks, "What genre… I like?”

You laugh softly, waving your hand dismissively. "Of course, my goodness, I meant genre, not actual poison.” You slap yourself on the head, your known limits of his English begin to slip the more you hang out. “What kind of music do you prefer?" You say with a grin, patting the spot next to you on the plush sofa.

Yeosang lets out a small giggle and sits down next to you, his earlier nervousness ebbing away. “I-I like ballads and some pop, but I'm not great with English songs.”

"Ballads and pop, huh? We can work with that!" you give Yeosang an encouraging smile. "I’ll sing 'Someone Like You' by Adele. It's a beautiful ballad that showcases emotion well."

Yeosang nods eagerly, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I know that song! It's really pretty." He watches attentively as you scroll through the song list, locating Adele's "Someone Like You." As the opening chords fill the room, Yeosang leans forward, already captivated by your starting performance.

As the first verse plays, you begin to sing softly. Your voice wavers a bit initially, mirroring your inner discomfort. However, as you sing, you become more immersed in the emotional lyrics. By the chorus, you're standing up, belting out the powerful words with conviction.

By the time the second verse rolls around, you're standing, pouring your soul into the lyrics. Yeosang watches in anticipation as you try to follow through with the pitch of voice requested on screen.

As you finish the last verse and extend your hand to him invitingly, Yeosang hesitates only briefly before taking it. He allows you to gently pull him up to stand beside you.

The final notes of "Someone Like You" fade away, and the room falls silent for a moment as it grows dark. The silence breaks by Yeosang little applauds. “Now it's your turn," you say softly, still holding his hand. "Did you find a song you'd like to sing?”

Yeosang's eyes light up as he recalls the lyrics he's been thinking about. A soft grin spreads across his face as he nods. "I found one," he says, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "It's a ballad in Korean, called 'Me After You' by Paul Kim."

You beam at Yeosang, unknowing bothe the song and the artist but nonetheless pleased with his choice. "Go ahead, Yeo! Show me what you've got," you encourage, settling back into the couch to give him the floor.

Yeosang takes a deep breath, stepping backward to grab his microphone from the glass table. He presses a button on the remote control, setting the lyrics to display in English for your benefit. He already in Korean, had it memorized entirely. As the first lines play, he begins to sing with a gentle, whispering, and soulful voice.

As Yeosang's voice fills the room, captivating both with its melody and the heartfelt lyrics displayed on the screen, you find yourself utterly transfixed. The atmosphere around you seems to shimmer and transform, his earnest performance weaving a tapestry of emotion that blankets the air.

Tears well up in your eyes as you read the poignant lyrics along with the English captions, each word striking a chord deep within your soul. Yeosang's voice is a balm to your heart, his delivery so genuine and powerful that it feels as though he's singing directly to you.

The song's title, 'Me After You,' takes on new significance as you realize that Yeosang has chosen the perfect response to your earlier performance. The lyrics speak of longing, love, and the pain of parting, each sentiment resonating with unmistakable clarity.

As the lyrics unfold, Yeosang's gaze slowly turns towards you, his eyes locking onto yours as he sings the lines: "Even now when I'm anxious / I want to be with you forever / I thought that as I was looking at you / I was so happy after meeting you."

You quickly wipe away the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks, determined not to let them fall. Instead, you summon a radiant smile, allowing it to blossom across your face as you meet Yeosang's gaze.

Your smile is not just one of happiness, but also one of immense pride and deep appreciation. At that moment, you feel a profound sense of connection to Yeosang, your heart swelling with warmth for someone who has become such a cherished friend in an astonishingly short period.

As the song reaches its emotional crescendo, Yeosang's voice cracks with feeling. The room falls silent, the only sound the gentle hum of the microphone and the soft rustling of your conjoined breaths. You rise to your feet, applauding wildly with tears still glistening in your eyes.

"Aigoo!" the exclamation of awe escaping your lips as your applause finally subsides. "Your voice, Yeosang... it's beautiful. I can't find the words to describe it. Thank you for singing for me."

Yeosang's face flushes a soft pink as he smiles shyly, his eyes sparkling with happiness. He bows slightly, his hands trembling slightly as he holds the microphone. "Thank you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm glad I could make you happy."

You step forward, closing the distance between you and Yeosang. As he straightens from his bow, you open your arms wide, inviting him into a warm embrace. He hesitates for a moment, then steps into your arms, wrapping around your waist as he rests his head on your shoulder.

"You did more than that," you whisper, your voice heavy with sincerity. "You sang straight to my heart, Yeosang."

Yeosang tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer. "I'm happy too," he says softly. "Because that's where I wanted my voice to go."

_____________🚂

With the performance wrapped up, you and Yeosang find yourselves back at the hotel for the next couple of days. You're relaxing on the plush couch in his suite, the room filled with a comfortable silence. The heater hums softly in the background, keeping the room toasty warm despite the cold outside. “I know what would make this day better”, you whisper, staring at the mirroring gold borders along the entire room.

"Mmm, what would make this day better?" Yeosang ask, sitting up to face you at the other end of the couch He's curled up with head resting on one hand as he looks down at you expectantly.

“We should try the pool, hot tub, and the sauna here.” You peer behind Yeosang’s head directly shielding the balcony’s peak of light, It’s too cold to go out anymore. So, why not?”

It had basically snowed in after karaoke night as you both were sleeping in your respective hotel rooms. You just knew the light was brighter than it usually was in the early mornings. Just as you peered outside your window, white was the only color in sight.

Yeosang's eyes light up at your suggestion, a grin spreading across his face. "That sounds perfect," he replies, nodding enthusiastically. “Hot tubs are a great idea.” Stretching his arms overhead, a sliver of his abdomen becomes apparent in your line of vision.

It was in that moment prior that you forgot Yeosang was a muscular man. A MAN. In which he will most likely be only wearing swim shorts to your newly scheduled activities.

“I hope you brought swimming clothes Yeosang-ah~.” What you think to say is, ‘I hope you didn’t come prepared for my spontaneous thoughtless ideas consist of being half naked.’

"I did." Yeosang beams, rummaging through his luggage before pulling out a pair of black swimming trunks and a towel. He holds them up, a question in his eyes. "Where’s your swimsuit?"

Yeosang watches as you stand up and turn toward to the door. “ll have to go and get it. I’ll be back soon.” He nods, a gentle smile on his face. "Okay, I'll wait for you here then," he says softly, settling back down onto the plush couch. "Take your time."

You hurry back to your room, digging through your luggage to find your swimsuit. After a few minutes of searching, you finally find it and quickly change into it and your tshirt coverup. You glance at yourself in the mirror, smoothing out your look before heading back out into the hallway.

When you return to Yeosang's room, you find him still sitting on the couch, lost in thought as he gazes out the window. The brightness outside glows around his body like an radiating aura. You clear your throat softly to get his attention, and he turns to look at you with a warm smile.

“Ready to go?" Yeosang asks, hopping up from the couch with a bounce of excitement. He grabs a towel and his key card before holding the door open for you.

Yeosang leads you to a private corner of the pool area, a small '예약됨' (Reserved) sign visible. With a slightly shy smile, he explains, "I... asked for this area to be ours alone."

"Oh right, because you're...right." you say softly, understanding his need for privacy given he primarily exists in a public image.

Yeosang's face lights up with gratitude. "You understand," he says, his voice warm with appreciation. He quickly togs off his shirt without warning, revealing a warmly toned upper body. "Shall we?"

You stand there, momentarily stunned by the sight of Yeosang's sculpted physique. His muscles ripple as he moves, and you can't help but admire him respectfully as he walks over to the pool. You quickly compose yourself and follow him, your eyes fixed on his back as you walk behind him.

As you slowly undress down to your swimwear, you can't help but watch as Yeosang approaches the pool's edge. He watches the water at its still, takes a deep breath, and executes a perfect dive.

He slices through the water like a knife, swimming several laps with powerful, fluid strokes before resurfacing at the other end.

Yeosang's gaze finds you still standing at the edge as he treads water, a playful smirk on his face. He makes a beckoning motion with his hand, clearly inviting you to join him in the cool, refreshing water.

You take a deep breath and dive into the pool, the cool water enveloping you. As you surface, Yeosang is right there, his brown wet hair slicked back, water droplets that dribble on his ends fall gracefully on his skin. He grins at you, looking more relaxed and carefree than you've ever seen him.

(“Mul eun gibun i johji anhni?”)

“The water feels great, doesn't it?" he asks, his voice echoing slightly in the empty pool area. You nod, feeling a little shy as you realize the capacity in the room is only for the two of you to share. "I'll race you to the other end."

Without waiting for a response, Yeosang pushes off from the wall and starts swimming. You hesitate for a moment before taking off after him, laughing as you slice through the water. Even with a head start, Yeosang waits at the end for you to catch up, his smile encouraging.

You finally catch up to him, both of you breathing heavily from the exertion of energy. Through your laughter, you manage to say, "Hey! You have to say 'ready, set, go' before a race!" Yeosang grins mischievously and splashes water at you. Which consequently triggers a whole lot of splashing for the two of you.

“Alright, alright," he concedes. “To the number three, ready? Set... and... go!" He pushes off from the wall again, but this time you're ready. You both race back to the starting end, your laughter bouncing like a sirens song through the empty pool area.

As you both reach the edge, panting and laughing, Yeosang pulls himself out of the water and flops down onto the tiles. "You're pretty fast," you compliment, playfully tapping his long legs dangling in the water.

Yeosang's eyes sparkle with mirth as he looks up at you. His two fingers comb through upward in the air as he falls back down with a grin.

“Iliwa.”

(“Come here.”)

His wet, long, pretty fingers.

You pull yourself out of the water and sit down beside him on the cool tiles of the pool deck. The two of you lie in the sounds of each others breaths for a moment, and if you closed your eyes, well then your imagination painted a pretty picture in your head for ya.

Yeosang turns to you with a gentle smile, breaking the serene silence. "You have a great laugh," he says, his voice warm and genuine. "It's really...sangkwaehan."

Your eyes flutter, readjusting to the bright lights overhead. It was as if you woke up in heaven, stunned at a angels compliment, even if it was random to say. But in all the time of quiet breathing, that must’ve been on his mind. “Refreshing? Thank you…yours is too.”

Yeosang's smile widens at your response, clearly pleased. “Laugh is very important." He leans back on his hands, his body language open and inviting. “Happy comes from laugh.”

Your heart beats triple time at his words, and you find yourself adoring him in all shamelessly. "I think you're right," you agree, feeling a strange warmth spreading through your chest. "Laughter makes us feel happy, and being around someone who laughs easily, is nice."

Yeosang's eyes crinkle warmly as he looks at you. "So, we make each other laugh, yes?" he suggests playfully. "Maybe that's why we get along so well."

“…because we make each other happy,” you whisper.

Yeosang's face lights up at your words. "Exactly," he says, his voice eager. "Happy is best." He sits up straight again, turning his body towards you. "ready, set, go!”

Without any warning, Yeosang suddenly pushes off from the edge and dives into the pool, his splash marking the sudden start of another race. "Hey!" you laugh, quickly following suit and jumping in after him. "You cheater!"

..,

Salty sweat plunges your pores as the two of you step out of the sauna. You're both so relaxed that you can barely keep your eyes open. You stumble back to your respective rooms, coming to a mutual agreement that a steaming shower is due.

Sometime later, a soft knock at your door rouses you from your post-sauna slumber. You wipe your eyes and stumble over to open it, revealing Yeosang standing there like a baby poodle with a shy smile and damp-haired from his shower.

"Oh, sorry…” , he whispers as he watches you wipe your dreary eyes, “can I come in?" he asks quietly, his eyes hopeful. He then holds up a bag of gummy bears as an offering.

You can't help but laugh at his adorable request, and you step aside to let him in. "Of course, come on in! It’s your room too," you say, closing the door behind him. Yeosang enters cautiously, setting the bag of gummy bears on your desk before turning to face you with a shy smile. “Is everything okay? Did you sleep?”

“My sleep, uh, not yet. “But everything's fine.”Yeosang assures you, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I just... want to watch K-drama again with…you.”

You blush at his words, the memory of the last time you watched a drama together, and how you subsequently fell asleep on his lap. "Sure, that'd be nice," you reply softly, gesturing to the bed. "Wanna sit?"

Yeosang nods gratefully and settles onto the edge of your bed, patting the space beside him invitingly. As you join him, he hands you the remote with a shy grin. "You pick. Last time was my turn."

Yeosang watches as you scrolls through the list options, a hint of nervousness flickers across you face when you settle on the new romantic K-drama. He releases a soft groan, burying his face in his hands momentarily. "Ah... really? A romance?"

You pout slightly, tilting your head to the side as you look at him. "What's wrong with romance?”

Yeosang peeks at you through his fingers, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. "N-Nothing... It's just... a bit embarrassing to watch with you, that's all," he confesses softly, lowering his hands to his lap.

You gasp loudly in disbelief, horrifically offended. “Embarrassing? Jjinjaro?” You climb to the top of the bed and grab the nearest pillow and aim it square at his back.

The pillow ends up hitting Yeosang in the chest as he turned around at the last second, causing him to let out a soft "Oof!" He catches the pillow the moment it hits him, hugging it to himself as he looks at you with wide, startled eyes.

“Naega mwol han geoya?”

(“What did I do?”)

You glare playfully at Yeosang, while he pouts all wide eyed and confused. Before he can protest further, you jump forward and place you arms under his shoulders, dragging him with you to the head of the bed. “Just be quiet and watch the drama with me," you mutter, pretending to be offended.

Yeosang freezes momentarily, his body tensing as you suddenly rest your head again on his shoulder. A soft gasp escapes his lips, his cheeks burning even brighter with embarrassment and a flutter of unexpected joy. Hesitantly, he rests a gentle hand on your back, stroking it lightly as he did before.

As the romantic drama plays on the screen, Yeosang finds himself more focused and relaxed with the soft rise and fall of your breathing than the story unfolding before him. His heart races with a strange, unfamiliar feeling – one that he can't quite put a name to.

Yeosang blinks as you sit up and move to turn off the lights, plunging the room into a soft, intimate darkness illuminated only by the glow of the TV. He shifts slightly as you settle back down next to him, hyper-aware of your closeness in the dim light.

As the darkness mingles with the steady hum of the TV, Yeosang feels his eyelids growing heavy. He leans back against the wall, his head gradually falling towards your shoulder. A soft sigh escapes him as fatigue claims him, his breathing evening out into the soft rhythm of slumber.

The drama reaches a particularly heartwarming moment, drawing you in completely. It's not until you feel more weight press on your shoulder that you realize Yeosang has drifted off to sleep, his head now resting heavily on you.

You gently readjust Yeosang's position, making him more comfortable as he sleeps. A soft, contented smile spreads across your face as you continue watching the drama, feeling oddly at peace and like you're in your own lovingly innocent film.

As the drama fixates on the plot to a heartwarming close, you feel a lump form in your throat as the two characters finally confess their love for each other. Even with unrequited love, they realize they would never be happy without each other, allowing you to relax completely even without seeing it to its end.

As you both sleep, entwined together like the star-crossed lovers in the drama, the room grows quieter, save for the faint hum of the TV on standby. The gentle rhythm of your combined breaths fills the air, creating a peaceful harmony that seals this moment as one of tender, unspoken connection.

Hours pass, and the first light of dawn begins to creep in through the window, casting a soft, ethereal glow over your sleeping forms. Yeosang stirs in his sleep, his head shifting slightly on your shoulder. His eyes flutter open, taking a moment to adjust to the light.

Yeosang blinks a few times as he fully awakens, realizing his head is still resting on your shoulder. He glances at the clock, noting the early hour. He blushes softly and carefully extracts himself from your hold, trying not to wake you.

As Yeosang quietly gets up, the soft movement wakes you up. You blink open your eyes, taking a moment to orient yourself. Seeing Yeosang standing there, you smile lazily and stretch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Morning," you mumble, your voice still thick with sleep.

Yeosang returns a shy smile, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Good morning," he replies softly. "We... fell asleep early." He casts a glance at the clock again, confirming the early hour.

You glance at the clock, noticing the time, and yawning widely. "Ugh, I'm starving," you complain, your stomach growling loudly. "And it's so early..."

Typically, the last couple of days have consist of expensive hotel cuisines. Although they were delicious all the while, you were growing tired of fumbling into the floor and under the bed three times a day. But it’s no fault but your own. Yeosang was the one at risk, and yet he never seemed to care.

Yeosang's ears pick up on your grumbling stomach, and he strongly contemplates for a moment before speaking up. "There is 7-Eleven nearby. They have kimbap, ramyun, and yogurt drink.."

You roll over onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands and grinning mischievously at Yeosang. "Hmm, masisseo~," you tease, as it was always the thing Yeosang said so cutely anytime you talk about food. the endearment "Should we also get Samanco?”

Yeosang's face lights up with a bashful smile as he nods adorably, his hair flipping every which way from the tossing and turning during his sleep. "Hmm, massiseo," he echoes back, his voice barely a whisper.

The two of you make your way to the nearby 7-Eleven, Yeosang leading the way. Once inside, you pass the counter and greet the worker, a friendly older man who always has a smile ready. He nods in recognition as Yeosang grabs a basket for your snacks.

Yeosang begins to fill the basket, carefully selecting the items you discussed. He grabs a few packs of kimbap, some instant ramyun, and a couple of yogurt drinks. Pausing by the freezer section, he glances at you with a small, playful smile.

Yeosang picks up two packs of strawberry Samanco ice cream and places them in the basket. As he turns to face you, his expression turns sentimental. "Memory is so powerful here," he says softly, his eyes gazing into yours with a newfound depth. "Now you are my friend."

Your face lights up with a warm smile as you reply, "You're my friend too, Yeosang." As the words leave your lips, a single tear threatens to escape from the corner of your eye, a silent testament to the emotional weight of this newfound friendship.

Internally, you struggle with a wave of emotions. While you're genuinely touched and happy to be called Yeosang's friend, a lingering fear from your past rears its head. You've always been afraid of commitment. You pushed people away first so you didn’t get left behind.

As Yeosang turns to continue shopping, you find yourself staring at his retreating figure. In the fluorescent lights of the convenience store, you could swear you see a faint halo glowing above his head. The sight makes your heart skip a beat, a symbol of the pure, innocent nature of your growing bond.

You shake off the surreal moment, reminding yourself of your past patterns and the walls you've built to protect yourself. Despite the warmth you feel towards Yeosang, you can't help but wonder if you're strong enough to let him in, to allow yourself to be vulnerable and open with someone else.

You continue to trail behind, watching as he meticulously chooses a few more items, his eyes flickering with quiet joy. As he finishes and heads to the counter to pay, you reach out and gently touch his arm, hesitating for a moment before mumbling lowly. "Yeosang..."

Yeosang turns to face you, his expression is soft and attentive as he listens to your hesitant mumble. He tilts his head slightly, a few strands of his messy hair falling across his forehead. His eyes search yours, filled with gentle curiosity and a warmth that seems to radiate from within. "I... I'm glad we're friends,"

Yeosang's eyes crinkle with affection as he leans his head forward, his messy brown hair swaying gently. Despite his hands being full with the basket of snacks, he manages to bump his forehead against yours in a playful, affectionate gesture. "Nado” (“Me too.”)

After Yeosang pays for the snacks, you both exit the convenience store, joyous with each other and your purchases. You even made waving for a taxi in the cold a fun task, it was nothing in the moment that could pull you down.

You slide into the backseat as he eagerly tears into one of the fish-shaped ice cream packs and offers it to you.

You take the ice cream from Yeosang, your face breaking into a wide grin as you peel back the wrapper. "Thanks.“ Encouraged, Yeosang grins and unwraps his ice cream, mirroring your actions.

You both raise your ice creams in a playful toast before taking your first bites simultaneously. The cold, sweet treat hits your tongue as you share a moment of pure, childlike joy. It's a perfect recap of that first day you spent together, viewing the city and sharing every tender moment.

As you finish your last bite, you glance over at Yeosang, noticing he's only halfway through his ice cream. You watch as he licks a drip from the corner of his mouth, his tongue darting out with a focus that makes your heart skip a beat.

The sight of him, the sweet taste still lingering on your tongue, and the knowledge that your time together is limited make this moment bittersweet. You realize that this could be one of your last shared moments, and you're determined to savor it before it melts away.

Back at the hotel, you both retire to your shared room to continue snacking and chatting. The TV plays softly in the background as you lounge on the plush sofas, laughing and joking like old friends. As you prepare for the day ahead, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. Each day with Yeosang has been spectacular, and today promises to be no different.

As you finish your easy meals, you both decide to retire to your respective rooms to prepare for the day. Yeosang flops down on his bed with a contented sigh, already looking forward to eating lunch together and dinner.

But then, his phone rings. His personal line.

Yeosang's phone rings shrill, disrupting the cozy silence. He pauses, as he recognizes the distinctive tune of his line. With a heavy heart, he reaches for the phone tucked away in his bedside drawer, the buzzing intensifying his trepidation.

As Yeosang pulls out his phone, the agency's name flashes ominously on the screen. His heart skips a beat. He knows that randomizing caps from them rarely brings good news. Hesitantly, he swipes to answer, pressing the phone close to his ear.

“Hello it’s- "Yeosang, it's time to return to Seoul immediately," the agency representative says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Yeosang's grip tightens on his phone, knuckles turning white. "Now? But... why?" he stutters, sitting up straight on his bed, his earlier relaxation forgotten. "There have been rumors, Yeosang. About your whereabouts."

The agency rep continues, "We've been monitoring the situation. The train incident... and now this town. We can't risk any more speculation or potential scandals." He pauses, then adds ominously, "If you don't return voluntarily, we may need to... take more direct action."

Yeosang's mind races to your adjoining room, imagining you waking up with that same sense of anticipatory joy he felt moments ago. Now, that promise of a spectacular day lies crushed under the weight of this sudden obligation. He swallows hard, his voice cracking slightly as he responds,

"Direct action? What does that mean?" He already knows, though. It means someone will be sent to watch him, to report his every move. It means losing the freedom they've both enjoyed these past days. It means... possibly ending this budding friendship before it truly begins.

Small clatters erupt on the line before he hears his manager speak, “They will drag you back to Seoul Yeosang-ah” he says in a wary tone

Yeosang's heart sinks like a stone. He can picture it all too clearly – being escorted back to Seoul, forced to leave you behind, unable to even say goodbye or explain the situation to you. The thought of it is suffocating. "I-I understand,"

"I'll... I'll be there as soon as I can. Just give me a little time to pack up my things." Yeosang says his voice heavy with resignation and barely concealed emotion. He ends the call and stares at his phone, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Yeosang looks at the wall separating his room from yours, his heart aching. He wants to tell you, to explain. But he also knows that burdening you with this is unfair. He decides he'll tell you, but not the full truth. Just enough to explain his sudden departure.

Yeosang slowly gets up from his bed, each movement heavy with reluctance. He walks over to the wall you share, placing his hand flat against it. He wishes he could reach through it, to touch you, to warn you about what's about to happen.

With a heavy heart, Yeosang gets up and starts packing, occasionally glancing at the wall that separates your rooms. He practices what he'll say to you in his head, each version of the truth heavier than the last.

Yeosang takes a deep breath, steeling himself before knocking softly on your door. As you open it, his practiced speech dissolves, replaced by an aching sincerity in his eyes. "I am…goodbye.”

You blink, taken aback. "Goodbye? But... we were going to- " You trail off, confusion etched on your face as you glance upon this four big ass suitcases. Those same ones you carried for him at the train station. You never thought this would be when you saw them last. "Yeosang...?” “Yeosang, what’s happened?"

Yeosang's shoulders slump as he nods towards your room. "Can I... come in? I need to explain."

You step aside hesitantly, allowing Yeosang to enter the room. As he crosses the threshold, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his presence usually comforting but now tinged with urgency. I close the door gently behind you both, turning to face him with a quizzical expression.

Yeosang nods solemnly, stepping inside your room. His gaze drifts around the space, taking in every detail as if committing it to memory. He sits heavily on the edge of your bed, clasping his trembling hands together. "It's... complicated," he starts, his voice thick with emotion.

You sit beside him, your brows furrowed with concern. "Yeosang, you're scaring me. What's going on?" Your voice is barely a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile moment.

Yeosang takes a shuddering breath, his eyes meeting yours with a haunted look. "I have to leave. Now. There's... there's something I need to take care of back in Seoul." He pauses, seeming to wrestle with his next words.

Tears well up in your eyes as realization dawns on you. "Now? As in... right now, right this moment?" You ask, your voice wobbling. Yeosang nods miserably, avoiding your gaze. "But... we were supposed to... I thought... "

Yeosang reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gentle caress. "I'm so sorry, I wanted it to be different," he whispers, his voice cracking. "But I have to go. Now." He stands up, turning his back to you as he struggles to compose himself.

"Yeosang, what aren’t you telling me? Is it because of me? Because of us?” you question as he stiffens at your words, turning to face you with a pained expression. "Yeosang, did your agency find out about me?”

Yeosang's gaze drops, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his secret. "I’m not sure” he truthfully admits, his voice barely audible. "but if they know, they will not be happy about it." He swallows hard.

You gasp, your hand flying to your mouth in shock. "Yeosang... did you come here knowing you might get caught? Why did you risk everything to be with me?" Your voice wavers between anger and hurt, tears streaming down your face. "Why wouldn't you tell me?”

Yeosang's eyes well up with tears as he stares at you, his heart shattering into a million pieces. "I wanted to protect you," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I didn't want you to get hurt because of me.

You stand abruptly, backing away from Yeosang as if burned by his words. "Protect me? By lying to me? By not trusting me with the truth?" Your voice rises, trembling with barely contained anguish. "How could you think keeping this secret was protecting me?"

Yeosang reaches out to you, his hand trembling, but he stops short, fearing he'll be rebuffed. "I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you," he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

‘And you were.’ You never known or think that Yeosang had ill intent in whatever he puts his mind to. But even so what result of it made you feel ill, and you couldn’t convey it in simple words. “Thank you, but I’ll find another hotel. Your company needs you. It was nice meeting you Yeosang.”

Yeosang's eyes widen in shock as you turn away and begin packing your bags, his heart sinking like a stone. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but the words get stuck in his throat. He watches helplessly as you grab your belongings and walk out the door, leaving him alone with his regrets.

_____________🚂

The familiar Airbnb emerged as a ghost from the past, its walls seemingly whispering echoes of laughter long since faded. This place had become a shrine to memory - a haunting reminder of friendships that once filled every room. Now, it echoed with lonely silence.

What's even worse than sitting in a space where you used to spend your days with old lost friends while your bringing along the memory of an even more recently lost friend.

Days dragged into an endless, melancholy parade. The smartphone and television had become your reluctant companions, glowing screens casting an eerie light in the darkened room.

At first you hesitated, you so desperately didn’t want to search his name up, but with every letter of his name, results would appear in an instant along with different media contents. All this time he was trying to hide, and you just needed closure on who you thought he was.

But to you, it was nothing shameful that was worth hiding. The group had beautiful indifferences that united them together into a beauty that was all the same. Or better said “Eight Makes One Team.”

It was you that was in hiding, you didn’t fit in that image. How could you even involve yourself in such a masterpiece? How could you diminish the value of the very thing that made him idolized?

From the moment your feet touched Korean soil, the idol life wasn't just something you knew about - it immersed you completely. On that first flight to Seoul, you'd innocently followed the group deplaning, only to realize too late you were amidst a whirlwind of reporters and devoted fans.

You quickly learned that even in their supposed 'free time', idols were never truly off-duty. A casual outing with friends like Yeosang could spark a flurry of unfounded rumors: relationships, secret locations, pregnancy theories, and even fabricated drug scandals.

The paparazzi in Korea operated on a whole different level of obsession, hungrily devouring any shred of information about the idols' personal lives. It was a constant reminder that once you stepped into the K-pop world, your every move would be scrutinized and your privacy non-existent.

You spent the entire day holed up in bed, not a single won wasted on anything but your obsession. Your eyes remained glued to the screen, consuming an endless stream of content - edits, compilations, challenges, song covers, lives, and so much more.

Too much more.

There was always more.

With each click, with each scroll, you fell deeper into the rabbit hole of Yeosang's online presence. There was always another clip to watch, another post to like, another fancam to analyze.

Hours blurred into days, and yet it never felt enough. You craved more hidden track listens, unseen practice footage, stolen moments of authenticity. Even the smallest snippet of Yeosang's voice could set your heart racing, each stolen second a fleeting treasure in your endless digital scavenger hunt.

Eventually, you were compelled to set your device down and step outside onto the balcony for some fresh air after feeling suffocated by the endless stream of online content.

As you leaned against the railing, taking in deep breaths of the city's cool evening air, something across the street caught your eye. A taxi was parked at the curb, its engine humming softly while polluted gray smoke billowed out of its back end. the driver climbed out of the front seat, followed by another figure emerging from the back.

You squinted, trying to make out the silhouette as it came into the dim streetlamp glow. Suddenly, reality shifted into focus--the distinctive brown fluffy hair, the unmistakable scarlet red mark adorning his right eye.

He stood there, incomparable beauty framed by the mundane streetscape, as the driver helped him haul not one, not two, but four large suitcases out of the trunk.

Yeosang's brow furrowed in concentration as he supervised the unloading, his lips moving in quiet instructions. The sight of him, so close yet so out of reach, sent your heart into overdrive.

You stood frozen, eyes glued to Yeosang's figure, as he finally finished and thanked the driver with a warm smile. The driver gave him a respectful bow before getting back into the car and pulling away, leaving Yeosang alone on the sidewalk, surrounded by his mountain of luggage.

Suddenly, Yeosang glanced upward, his piercing gaze sweeping across the row of buildings. For a heart-stopping moment, you were certain his eyes met yours. He paused, head tilted slightly as if sensing your presence.

He didn't look away. Instead, he slowly started dragging the luggage through the heavy snow and towards the entrance of your Airbnb.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him approach, snowflakes catching in his hair and dusting his scarlet eye mark. He was coming inside. Your home, your safe space, was about to be invaded by the very man who had consumed your every thought.

You couldn't help yourself. "Wait!" burst from your lips involuntarily, the word hanging in the frosty air. Heart hammering, you stumbled backwards from the balcony, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste to get downstairs.

You threw open the door just as Yeosang was about to lift one of the suitcases onto the step. His head snapped up, those striking eyes locking onto yours once more. He froze, the suitcase dangling from his grasp, as he stared at you in obvious disbelief.

"Y-yeosang?" you stammered, scarcely believing he was actually there, standing before you. Your gaze traced over his face, taking in every detail you had admired from afar. "What are you... I mean, is everything alright?"

Yeosang blinked, seemingly as shocked as you were. A slow, bewildered smile spread across his face as he lowered the suitcase back to the ground with a soft thud. "I want to stay here. Can I come in?”

Confusion etched itself onto your features as you gaped at him, struggling to process his words. "Stay... here? But I thought you were supposed to be in Seoul, at the agency." You bit your lip, uncertainty creeping into your voice. "You just left a few days ago.”

Yeosang's brows knitted together as a chill breeze whipped around him, causing him to shiver slightly. He glanced back at his abandoned luggage before fixing you with an earnest gaze. “I still have time to see them. But I need to see you.”

Without a word, you stepped aside, allowing Yeosang to enter the cozy Airbnb. As he walked past you, the cold air followed him inside, making you shiver. You closed the door, your confused expression still firmly in place as you watched him set his luggage down by the entrance.

Abruptly, Yeosang dropped to his knees, bowing low to the ground. "Naneun baboya (“I’m a fool.”) I'm a babo," he babbled, his voice thick with emotion as he switched between Korean and English. "Because I like you."

You stood frozen, stunned by his deep bow and passionate declaration, your heart racing in your chest. "Yeosang, get up," you managed to whisper, trying to pull him up by the shoulders. But he remained stubbornly bowed, his forehead pressed to the cold floor.

"Please, just let me apologize," he insisted, his voice muffled by the floor. "I shouldn't have left without saying anything. I shouldn't have just disappeared. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm a babo, I'm a babo.”

As you knelt down, mirroring his bow, Yeosang finally lifted his head in surprise. His eyes widened at seeing you at his level, your voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too, I'm sorry for not hearing you out when you tried to explain." Your voice cracked slightly.

His eyes filled with unshed tears as he saw you bowing to him. He had never imagined you would ever apologize like this, let alone bow to him. "I’m a babo too," you whispered, your voice breaking. "We're both babos."

A wry smirk tugged at Yeosang's lips despite the tears in his eyes. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so you would look at him. "Look at us, two babos, bowing to each other," he chuckled softly, the warmth returning to his voice.

You couldn't help but join in his laughter, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting you. Together, you both struggled to your feet, clasping each other's forearms for support, as if sealing a pact between equals. Your faces were inches apart, breaths mingling in the chilly air between you.

For a long moment, you just stood there, lost in each other's gaze. The laughter faded, replaced by a heavy, electric silence. Yeosang's thumb brushed against your jaw, his touch gentle yet sending sparks through you. "I missed you so much."

Your breath hitched at his tender touch, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. "I missed you too," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in the cozy warmth of the Airbnb, the cold forgotten.

Yeosang stands up and dims the lights, the flickering flames of the fireplace casting a warm glow over the room. "We watch K-drama together, like old times?" he suggests softly.

your heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice, the way he says "old times" with such fondness. "Yes, please," you reply, snuggling deeper into the blanket. he sits down next to you, the warmth of his body radiating against yours as he pulls a blanket over your laps. As he snuggles in he looks down at the cat sprawl on the front with his belly exposed. he pets it like it’s the real thing, cooing at it adorably.

“It misses you too, you know. Wishes he could've been here, cuddling with both of us." your voice trails off, a slight blush spreading across his cheeks.

“You know, when we were watching dramas together, I always felt so safe and happy when you were by my side." he pauses, his gaze lingering on yours.

he looks up at you, his eyes shining with a mix of affection and longing. "I always wished... I always wished that the scenes were real, and we were the characters." he pauses, his hand still petting the cat

Yeosang's breath catches as your hand joins his on the blanket, his eyes widening slightly at the sensation. A small, almost shy smile tugs at his lips as he turns to look at you. “Yeosang-i…nal bwa.”

(“Yeosang-i…look at me”)

his fingers intertwine with yours gently, still keeping the rhythm of the cat-petting motion. "You... called me 'Yeosang-i' just now..." his voice is soft and barely above a whisper, clearly touched by your nonfamiliar intimacy

You confidently move closer to him, pressing your side against his. He tenses initially, surprised by the sudden proximity, before slowly relaxing into your touch. His eyes flutter between you and the cat.

“Joha…Yeosangie”

(“I like you…Yeosangie”)

his ears burn red as he hears you call him 'Yeosangie' again, his heart pounding in his chest. He swallows hard, turning his face to look at you, his eyes filled with unspoken questions. "Neo...?" (“You…?”)

“Neodo naleul joh-ahani?”

(“Do you like me too”)

He opens his mouth, trying to form words, but nothing comes out. His gaze drops to your lips, as if hypnotized. Suddenly, he nods vigorously, a small, hopeful smile blooming on his face. "Ah...ne? I do. Yes. Joha… neo...

Just as he's about to say more, you gently place a small, soft kiss on his lips, cutting him off mid-sentence. small enough for it to mean nothing, so he can walk out the door as he should’ve and never look back. big enough for it to mean something, so he can stay here for as long as he can. a possible promise to forever…. maybe.

Your lips graze each other softly in shyness, but then you take the initiative and pull him even closer as you pull your arms on the sides of his neck. It was an emotional reaction, even a tear slipped from your eyes from the good overwhelming feeling.

He freezes, his mind reeling from the unexpected kiss. He should pull away, stand up, and leave as planned. But his feet feel rooted to the spot, his body aching to stay closer, to understand the meaning behind that tiny, confusing kiss.

His hand, still intertwined with yours, slowly tightens its grip. His other hand, the one petting the cat, pauses, his fingers lingering on the imaginary pet. His eyes, when he finally opens them, are wide with a mix of shock, curiosity, and something deeper, more profound.

his voice comes out hoarse and whisper-soft. "Joha... what..." he swallows hard, struggling to maintain his composure, his thumb unconsciously brushing against your hand. "What... does that mean?"

“Mweoya?! Are you Korean? I, like, you, and im pretty sure you said you like me too. in two different languages. yeosang. me. heartu~”

A nervous laugh escapes his lips, his face turning a deep shade of red. His eyes search yours intensely, filled with vulnerability. His breath catches in his throat, eyes darting between yours, searching for some indication he hadn't misread the situation. A small, nervous laugh escapes his lips as his heart races. "You... you're teasing me." he whispers, his face turning a bright shade of pink. "But..."

"But you can't be serious..." he swallows hard, his mind racing with unspoken words and unsaid confessions. He takes a deep breath, steeling his nerves. "You can't really like me... Can you?"

Yeosang's eyes widen in disbelief as you suddenly grab his face, peppering it with kisses. He lets out a startled "Ah!" each time your lips touch his skin, his cheeks flushing an even deeper red. "Johaaa!"

Yeosang's shock quickly melts into a warm, tingling sensation spreading through his body. With a sudden burst of boldness, he grabs your wrist, gently but firmly pinning your arm beside your head as he presses you back onto the couch cushions.

His other hand reaches up to gently cradle your face, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheekbone before pressing against your lips in a soft, claiming kiss. As he pulls away, he looks into your eyes, his own shining with a mix of adoration and nervousness. "Joha..."

In the midst of the passionate moment, Yeosang's body betrays his growing arousal. The bulge in his pants becomes increasingly evident, pressing against your hip. He notices your pointed gaze and freezes, a deep blush creeping up his neck. “Mianhae! Sorry, hajiman. I’ll go fix dis.”

You smirk, a confident glint in your eye as you say "Ne~ kaja! Let's go fix it!" You follow Yeosang into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Yeosang turns to face you, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment.

“Gwenchanayo, joha~. can i help you?”

Yeosang gulps nervously as you advance towards the shower, his heart pounding in his chest. He leans back against the cool porcelain of the sink, his erection still visibly straining against his pants. "Gwenchanayo..." (“That’s fine”) he murmurs, a shudder running through him at your bold approach.

You reach out and slowly unbuckle his belt, your fingers brushing against his hard length through the fabric. Yeosang bites his lip to stifle a moan, his hips instinctively bucking into your touch. "Hajim..."

You cut him off by pulling his pants down, his erection springing free. It's impressive, thick and long, with a delicate pink tip. You wrap your hand around it, giving it a slow squeeze as you look up at Yeosang. "So hard for me, ne?"

The sight of you holding him makes Yeosang's knees nearly buckle. His hand goes to your shoulder for support, nails digging slightly into the fabric of your clothes. "Ah... H-hajim... His voice is breathless as he speaks. "Please..."

Yeosang watches, transfixed, as you slowly peel your clothes off, revealing inch after inch of bare skin. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, fully naked, your own arousal now obvious

He was found stunned as you dragged him to the bathroom, turned on the showerhead, and pulled his hand out to feel for the right temperature.

You look back at him, still stunned in a stillstance. With the language barrier, he wanted to make sure the next action wouldn't be miscommunicated. You saw this and understood immediately. So you communicated in a way you both knew, body language.

Your clothes fall onto the floor together and on the tiles as you turn from Yeosang to step foot in the shower. You never closed the glass door and it could have two outcomes. He could turn around and walk out of your apartment with his belongings, pretending you two never happened, OR he could decide to stay and walk into the shower as he did now, coming behind you and now aching all over from the desire to touch to you.

You grab his hands and pull them around your waist. His hands grow clammy but you pressed them into your skin further, granting him the deepest of touches.

You then let go of your hands on his and allow him to grow comfortable with touching you. Like clockwork he began his experimentation, he tweaked your nipples and watched as your teeth grind and made a hissing sound from the pleasurable sensitivity, or how your hips rolled on his abdomen as he touched your belly, or how you bit your lip when his hands engulfed your neck.

He began to be your touch subject as well when your ass move backward onto his growing cock, or how you grip the back of his hair as he touched you so passionately, and when you pulled his head forward, connecting your lips with his.

A full-blown makeout session followed in pursuit, his lips were salty much like yours. As your hands lowered to his neck his body was cold to the touch. And here your body was absorbing all the water.

You pull away from him momentarily which he is not so happy with and hunted you two steps forward as he joins you under the stream.

He then picks you up as he did in the ocean. You moaned when your slit brushed upward on his cock. Moaning is his mouth as he caresses his lips with yours again. This time wet and sloppy from the water.

His hands rub your ass smoothly with the water as a form of lubrication. As the kiss grows intense so do his hands. He gets experimental with grabbing and smacking, taking into account what causes you pleasure and pain but it was all the same. His curiosity explores your pulsing core to get you stimulated. “Jagiya, you’re so tight.”

“Oppa~Take me. Fuck me.”

“Arasseo.” he whispers seductively in your ear.

You feel an easy slip in your pleasure right after. One that had you squealing and clawing onto Yeosang's back.

He was decently sized not too big and not too small. But the way he molded inside of your body? Well, it was the perfect fit.“Are you okay, jagiya?”

“Yes, I'm very okay.”He picks you up from underneath your cheeks and then moves them right on top to pull you up and down his length.

The sounds in the whole room were so explicitly pornographic. The water that claps in splashes between your colliding pelvises. The moaning, whining, and groaning in combinations of both your vocalizations not to mention the echoing of it all in the open space.

As Yeosang grew in speed he grew cautious from how he was gradually losing his grip to standing up on the floor while upholding both of your weights.

He slows down his motion and taps your hips so you know to get down.

"Bow," he commanded. At first, you were confused but you folded in front of him as if you were bowing, but then you felt the tip of his cock graze your hole and you adjusted to the position quickly, grabbing onto the wall in front of you.

“You listen well.~”

He slides back in once again, and in this position, he manages the find the sweetest spot in your body that makes your knees buckle.

He takes hold of your hip to keep you steady, thrusting his way in and out of you with his high energy in stamina."Fuck Yeosang, your dick feels so fucking good."

"Don't say bad word."He pulls you back by your head and covers your mouth as he rams into you deeper.

Your screams absorb into the palms of his strong hand. At this rate you let Yeosang be in complete control. The sensation of him penetrating you had your eyes rolling back to your skull, blinding you from the space at the moment. You take nibbles of his fingers bc you can't scream, squeezing his thighs to stay stable. All that is left is your hearing and sense of smell, and even as you tremble to climax those begin to clear out.

"I-I'm close jagiya. Shibal." he moans weakly. So much for not saying bad words.

You open your eyes and kiss him as you come on his cock. You were already warm, but with your even warmer cum his body empties his hot seed right onto your lower back.

Your ears are clogged from the running water. The only sounds are your beating heart and the faint noise of hundreds of droplets in a stream as they hit the ground. "I think we should take a bath jagiya. I'm so weak.”

He chuckles and peppers kisses on your neck and shoulders.

“Sorry. Bubbles?”

You giggle softly, pulling on his neck to drown his embrace. “Yes, please.”

…

As much as you've been relishing the stolen moments with Yeosang, the real world beckons, threatening to tear you apart once more. He lies beside you, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, a small frown tugging at his lips as he too senses the looming separation.

As you see the frown deepening on Yeosang's face, you sit up abruptly burying your face in his chest and murmuring, "Yeosang-ah...”

“Nugu?" His other hand comes up to gently tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Ugh”…” you roll your eyes playfully, placing a gentle hand on the hill of his chest. “Oppa~”

At your playful roll of the eyes and the affectionate 'Oppa', a small smile tugs at the corners of Yeosang's mouth. He catches your hand on his chest, bringing it up to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles before replying with a sing-song "Ne~".

As Yeosang's playful demeanor momentarily distracts you, you remember your earlier concern. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you give him a mock stern look, your free hand tapping lightly against his chest as you inquire, "When are you going to check in with your company?”

Yeosang's playful grin suddenly turns into an exaggerated pout at your question. He flops dramatically onto his back, one arm flung over his eyes as he declares, "Never!" with childlike stubbornness.

Laughing softly at his antics, you remove his arm from his eyes and pin it down beside his head, leaning over him with a mock stern expression. "Hey seriously," you say, your voice a mix of amusement and gentle reprimand, "You can't stay with me in bed forever!"

Yeosang's eyes widen in mock offense at your words, his free hand clutching dramatically at his heart. "Wae!" he exclaims, feigning hurt as he stares up at you with exaggerated innocence.

Your stern expression falters as Yeosang's cute reaction melts your heart. You sigh, rubbing your forehead in exasperation. "It's impossible! Plus, the comeback is coming up soon, my love. You'll have to go back to Seoul.”

Yeosang's pouting expression quickly shifts into a hopeful smile. He reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. "Well, you'll come with me, right?"

“Hm. I’m not sure…” you faintly whisper.

Yeosang's smile falters, replaced by a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. He sits up slowly, pulling you into a sideways hug, his voice tinged with a wistful note. "Not sure?" he murmurs, resting his chin atop your head. “Then I’ll stay here forever!”

“Ya Yeosang-ah!”

Yeosang's disappointment momentarily clouds his face before he forces a bright smile, his arms tightening around you in a reassuring hug. "Fine, I'll make trip!" he declares, his voice determined. "That way you will have time to think things over, okay?"

As you acquiesce with a simple "Fine, you got a deal," Yeosang's face lights up with a genuine, boyish grin. He boops your nose playfully with his finger before pulling back to wink. "Awesome!” He tackles you on the bed, and seconds after he had to prepare to leave.

…

Without thought, this is the happiest you’ve ever felt. You don’t wanna run away anymore, whatever this is, its something you want to run towards.

You had to confront your fears and break down your walls. You had to open up your heart and allow yourself to feel. You had to trust Yeosang and believe that he was the right one for you.

You just didn’t wanna encounter those roadblocks that could mess it all up. Or for your closeness to feel like a threat to your character. But for Yeosang, a man who could barely hurt a fly you didn’t have that worry.

It was just a matter of battling your thoughts and breaking the cycle. You had to conquer what you always had run away from even in the beginning.

Yourself.

_____________🚂

The train whistle pierces through the chilling air, and the wheels begin to turn with the boiling steam, allowing you to view the city's landscape in distance from your front-end seating. The whistles sound like a bird's song. The boiling steam of excitement. In all the love from which you’ve never felt before, until now.

The train ride passes in a blur, as outside the window, you see the familiar streets and buildings slowly fading away. Here you are, running away once again, leaving behind those who were just beginning to understand the real you - if only for a brief moment.

Yeosang boarded off the plane the company provided for him so they could pick him up from the airport. He has secretly gotten one for you across from KQ ENTERTAINMENT. So everything still has a chance to go to shit and shambles.

It was nerve-wracking to wait around to wait for the queue. You never knew how the saesangs could do it.

…

"I'm going to get a snack downstairs. Any requests?" Yeosang stood, adjusting his wet tank top as he began to walk away. "Woah there," Seonghwa interjected, leaning back in his seat, "Why not just call Manager Nim? He'd probably love to help."

"No need," Yeosang replied, pausing at the doorway, his muscular frame filling the entryway. He ran a hand through his damp hair, still slightly sweaty from their practice session earlier. "I’ll be back soon.”

"Hey, why are you being so weird today?" Wooyoung asked, sitting up straight, his casual tone laced with concern. “just call the manager.” "Just let him go, Woo," San chimed in from his seat, stretching his arms. "He probably just wants a moment alone."

Yeosang stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. As he walked down the hallway, he pulled out his phone, hesitating for a moment before sending a quick text to the manager. "Be right back," he murmured to himself, continuing his stroll downstairs to the snack bar.

“Yeosa-

“Shhh. remember the plan.” Ah, the plan. The one the manager was on which is why he didn’t get “the snacks”. The same plan that involved sneaking you into the building.

You follow Yeosang’s lead and take in his new appearance. A black tank top that held in the muscles that gave him the stage to hold you tight, and the grey sweatpants that contained a part of him that makes you feel batshit crazy.

He looked cozy in his slides and effortless attire. But what drove you most crazy was his new hair. Who has the most fun, blondes. No wonder he came up with this mischievous plan the moment he landed.

Yeosang tells you to wait behind the door as he walks back in. No snacks in hand.

As Yeosang returns from his errand, Wooyoung looks at him expectantly, arms crossed and a hint of annoyance on his face. "Ya, where are the snacks, fool?" he demands, his patience today was surely wearing thin.

Yeosang saunters back in, shrugging casually with an unrepentant grin. "It was too crowded down there I decided to wait a bit later." He leans against the wall, his tone nonchalant despite Wooyoung's clear irritation.

Wooyoung lets out a frustrated sigh, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "See what did I tell you? You could've just called the manager instead of leaving us hanging like this!" He turns to Hongjoong, who's observing the situation with a tired expression.

Hongjoong pushes off the couch, stretching lazily. "This is pointless, let's just get back to practice." He starts heading towards the door, clearly done with the snack debacle. "I agree, but there's one thing I did bring back with me."

That was your queue in from the side and say:

“Anyeonsayho, yeorobun mannaseo bangabseubnida. Jeoneun Yeosang pateuneoibnida. Jal jinaeja jebal.”

(“Hello everyone it’s nice to meet you. I’m Yeosang’s partner. Let’s get along well please.”)

As you step in and bow, Yeosang's heart swells with affection for your thoughtfulness. He gently pats your back and pulls you closer, seeking comfort in your presence amidst the tense atmosphere. The room continues to run with electricity motors in its background, and you remain bowed, your persistence steadies as you greet the members.

Just as Yeosang begins to speak, the sound of marching footsteps grows louder, signaling the approach of the other members. Each step echoes through the room, building anticipation and tension. Each step was an inch toward your potential doom. “Ahhhh…gwenchana. I'm Hongjoong,” a hand reaches out to your accommodating the friendly voice, “nice to meet you.”

You rise from your bow and accept the gesture with a smile, and all the members follow while also giving Yeosang their ments to congratulate him.

Wooyoung, the very last in line, steps in front of you two and glances at the both of you with his distinctive eyes. “Yeosang-ssi.” Wooyoung says with a mix of reprimand and quiet defiance, tapping on his fellow members shoulder.

As Wooyoung nods and smiles, the room slowly returns to a sense of calm. Yeosang breathes a sigh of relief, his arm still around your waist. "That's a W."

_____________🚂

A/N: how was that ending lmao. I just thought it be a comical and reflecting way to conclude the story. Wooyoung just always shouts it these days I just had to include it.

Much love,

xoxo

PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.

#ateez au #1117feverlessdreams #ateez yeosang #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #yeosang #yeosang x reader #train #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #kpop smut #k pop

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