#but there is no evidence of this word that i can find

[siphonophoresupernumerary]

Very very very good points! I would say that the final point about trans men can very easily, and indeed necessarily, be extended to trans women and nonbinary people. Did they account for trans people at all? There is built in margin for error there with people in the closet or are not comfortable being out for survey purposes.

I grew up as a man in a christian family and I can see how potent the disdain conservatives, especially christians, have for college. It's a setting that christian ideals don't control that affords the students a lot of freedom and diversity. Diversity generally makes people lose faith in the variety of christianity they were raised in, skewing more progressive.

The increase of women in college can very well be seen as an increase of diversity, but because the paper doesn't explore race, doesn't clarify how or if trans people counted, and only barely touches on sexual orientation, we only GET to see her findings on gender.

Looking at it though I'm also inclined to agree that fewer men are going to college, or believe it when it is asserted. Apparently young college age men are more conservative as is evident from the last presidential election, which fits with my earlier point about christian's anti-college/diversity rhetoric. Though if that's true I might posit that certain political beliefs and religions are in flight, more than any given gender. This fits in with Davis' note about the prevalence of gay men in college, as gay men are less likely to be religious for homophobia reasons. Plus christian ideals are generally "men provide, women nurture" so christian women may well be flying too, but their numbers would be significantly smaller than christian men, and thereby it doesn't stick out when looking at gender alone.

I'm not 100% sure how substack works, but the article is on Matriarchal Blessing, a name which has certain Divine Feminine connotations. Looking up the author, Celeste Davis, I find that her substack is entirely about gender. Which leads me to believe that maybe the author cares mostly or only about gender. Explaining the lack of thurough research that explores each or any of the vectors uncle-fruity indicated. I'm inclined to say that Celeste Davis is biased. Additionally, even though I don't see overt christian themes in there, the presentation of and

Oh. She's an exmormon. I guess that explains the quasi-religious qualities to Matriarchal Blessing. Which include a "bless your wanting" ritual for paid subscription members. Mormons believe in a concept of the Divine Feminine; they believe in a Heavenly Mother, innate power in being a woman, and also the "1950s patriarchal dream" (Celeste Davis' words) which include strict gender roles. The value put into both roles are purportedly equal in policy, though by policy the vast majority of leaders are men. A lot of women find the role they are given restrictive and that looks like what drove Davis away from the mormon church.

Another note to flex my Mormon knowledge, Matriarchal Blessing is a twist on the Patriarchal Blessing. A Patriarch for a stake(geographical collection of church attendees) gives a member a blessing which is a mixture of a blessing, a pep talk, a testimony(or tiny church lesson), and a personal prophecy(fortune telling). The stake's Matriarch is his wife and her role is to record and transcribe the blessing.

Mormon gender roles are written in policy, as close to stone as you get in this modern age. The Family Proclamation says that marriage is between a man and a woman, that the only genders are man and woman, that everyone is supposed to get married (1 man, 1 woman. Explicitly no polygamy), and that men are supposed to provide and women are supposed to care for the household, and finally that sex is ok only within a marriage.

I got distracted and lost the thread I was following but yeah, I don't ascribe malicious intent to Celeste Davis or intentional bias, but I do think her bias is having an effect. For someone who blogged about leaving her religion, it's weird to me that she didn't point out any religious demographics in the article.

Actually. I'm shocked that tumblr passed around an article by an exmormon as Article Of The Day, though a piece of reactionary masculine-critical rhetoric doesn't surprise me in the slightest. There's so few sources in this article but who cares so long as it feels good to read. Which, honestly, I am guilty of too.

Why aren't we talking about the real reason male college enrollment is dropping? (Celeste Davis, Oct 6 2024)

"White flight is a term that describes how white people move out of neighborhoods when more people of color move in.

White flight is especially common when minority populations become the majority. That neighborhood then declines in value.

Male flight describes a similar phenomenon when large numbers of females enter a profession, group, hobby or industry—the men leave. That industry is then devalued.

Take veterinary school for example:

In 1969 almost all veterinary students were male at 89%.

By 1987, male enrollment was equal to female at 50%.

By 2009, male enrollment in veterinary schools had plummeted to 22.4%

A sociologist studying gender in veterinary schools, Dr. Anne Lincoln says that in an attempt to describe this drastic drop in male enrollment, many keep pointing to financial reasons like the debt-to-income ratio or the high cost of schooling.

But Lincoln’s research found that “men and women are equally affected by tuition and salaries.”

Her research shows that the reason fewer men are enrolling in veterinary school boils down to one factor: the number of women in the classroom.

For every 1% increase in the proportion of women in the student body, 1.7 fewer men applied.

One more woman applying was a greater deterrent than $1000 in extra tuition! (…)

Since males had dominated these professions for centuries, you would think they would leave slowly, hesitantly or maybe linger at 40%, 35%, 30%, but that’s not what happens.

Once the tipping point reaches majority female- the men flee. And boy do they flee!

It’s a slippery slope. When the number of women hits 60% the men who are there make a swift exit and other men stop joining.

Morty Schapiro, economist and former president of Northwestern University has noticed this trend when studying college enrollment numbers across universities:

“There’s a cliff you fall off once you become 60/40 female/male. It then becomes exponentially more difficult to recruit men.”

Now we’ve reached that 60% point of no return for colleges.

As we’ve seen with teachers, nurses and interior design, once an institution is majority female, the public perception of its value plummets.

Scanning through Reddit and Quora threads, many men seem to be in agreement - college is stupid and unnecessary.

A waste of time and money. You’re much better off going into the trades, a tech boot camp or becoming an entrepreneur. No need for college. (…)

When mostly men went to college? Prestigious. Aspirational. Important.

Now that mostly women go to college? Unnecessary. De-valued. A bad choice. (…)

School is now feminine. College is feminine. And rule #1 if you want to safely navigate this world as a man? Avoid the feminine.

But we don’t seem to want to talk about that."

[rsepetals]

request 𐙚 ony x actress!reader and ony gets jealous and possessive that readers co-star has to do a make out scene w her. nsfw, ony’s kinda mean thank you for the request sweetface!

“you’re cute when you’re jealous ony-bear.”

those were the words that set him off, the words that now had you twisted in the nastiest position. white manicured feet dangling over broad shoulders, a tattooed hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. he knows it’s your career, acting. he knows you sometimes have to do make-out scenes, but god, does it make his blood boil knowing so. the jealousy and frustration simmer beneath the surface, and as his mind drifts, his thrusts becoming exponentially harder, toe-curling. you can feel the tension in his muscles, every movement filled with a mix of anger and desire. “ohhh my fuckinggg-shit ony!”

"what was that cute shit you were talkin’ bout?” the dark-skinned man's voice carries a tone of jealousy. a part of you finds it endearing, while another part is annoyed by his behavior. you don't even know where to begin with him, and when he slams into a bundle of nerves, your eyes flutter shut pathetically. "that’s what i thought.” it’s got his head rolling back as your pretty pink pussy sucks him, the soft gush of you making him twitch. he’s so deep, so thick, you swear you could feel every ridge of him. a loud sob escapes you, arms tightening around his neck, nails digging into his shoulder blade, drawing blood. ony’s pace is nothing short of unforgiving, and all you can do is take him as he feeds you inch by inch.

it’s almost painful as you orgasm again, and as much as you try to hide the way your body convulses and shivers, ony catches it. the sight silently spurring him on, aiding him in his own climax. in an instant, he’s pulling out with a whimper. a relentless chant of your name as he pumps his shaft, spurts of warm cum decorating your tummy. it’s quiet for a moment, tension palpable as your eyes watch ony clean you. “m’sorry," he whispers breaking the dreadful quietness, his voice suddenly tender. face now in the curve of your neck, his breath sending warmth across your skin. "i know," you reply softly, running your fingers through his locs, feeling the tension gradually fade away.

"no, really. i'm sorry. i'm an asshole."

a giggle erupts from your lips, "you are." you say, but the playfulness is still evident in your voice.

"let me make it up to you."

"and how do you plan on doing that?"

he doesn’t reply, only beginning to place sloppy wet kisses down your chest, then your pudgy stomach. all the way down until he’s face to face with your slick cunt. "m’gna apologize to her.”

[geneviveleocardius]

dad’s got it covered

feat. simon riley

the soft clatter of pots and pans fills the kitchen as you stir the bubbling pot of pasta sauce. the warm aroma of garlic and herbs drifts through the house, mingling with the faint sound of the tv playing in the living room. amidst it all, your toddler’s tiny voice breaks through, high-pitched and filled with excitement.

“mummy, i want the braid! the one rapunzel has!” she calls from the couch, holding a toy brush in her small hands.

you glance over your shoulder, a small smile tugging at your lips. “later, sweetheart,” you say, your voice gentle but distracted. “mummy’s making dinner right now.”

there’s a pause, and then the sound of her humming to herself, followed by the occasional soft giggle. it’s enough to make you peek out of the kitchen, curiosity getting the better of you. what you see stops you in your tracks.

simon, your husband—your hulking, stoic husband—sits on the floor behind your daughter. his large hands, so used to wielding weapons and carrying the weight of the world, now work with a surprising delicacy. he’s carefully braiding her fine hair, his expression one of focused determination. your daughter is practically glowing, a radiant grin on her face as she chatters away, oblivious to how tender the moment is.

your heart softens, warmth blooming in your chest as you lean against the doorway, watching them. simon glances up briefly, catching your eye. there’s a flicker of something in his gaze—a mixture of pride and amusement.

“you’re lucky she doesn’t want the full rapunzel treatment,” he murmurs, his deep voice laced with dry humor. “i’d need a ladder.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “you’re doing great, love,” you say, meaning every word.

years pass in the blink of an eye. your little girl is no longer so little, and the house feels quieter, the once-constant chaos of toddler life now replaced by the rhythm of a teenager’s world. tonight, your daughter has a party to attend. she’d asked you earlier to iron her hair, a request you’d readily agreed to.

but somewhere between the dishes and the laundry, exhaustion crept in. you’d sat down for just a moment and fallen asleep. when you wake with a start, panic surges through you. you glance at the clock, your heart sinking as you realize how much time has passed.

“oh no,” you mutter, scrambling to your feet. “her hair—”

you rush out of the room, searching for her, guilt already gnawing at you. when you find her, the sight that greets you makes you stop short.

she’s sitting in front of the vanity in her room, scrolling casually through her phone. behind her stands simon, a flat iron in one hand and a comb in the other. his movements are slow and precise as he smooths out her hair, section by section.

your daughter barely looks up from her phone, her trust in her father’s meticulousness evident. but you can see it—the care in simon’s touch, the way he handles her hair like it’s the most delicate thing in the world. his expression is the same as it was all those years ago, when he braided her hair for the first time: focused, patient, and filled with an unspoken love.

your heart melts at the sight, the guilt dissolving into something softer, sweeter. leaning against the doorway, you smile to yourself, the memory of a tiny girl and a father’s careful hands blending seamlessly with the present.

“you’re amazing, you know that?” you say softly, your voice breaking the quiet.

simon glances at you, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a faint smirk. “just don’t expect me to start charging for haircuts,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but warm.

your daughter, still focused on her phone, rolls her eyes with a groan. “dad, you’re so lame.”

you laugh quietly, your heart full to bursting. watching them, you realize some things never change—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[yuzuvrse]

i will not go gentle into that good night

in life and in death, you love(d) daisuke.

warnings : daisuke (mouthwashing) x reader, implied sa [of reader], major character death, mouthwashing spoilers, canon-typical violence & then a bit more, reader crashes out on jimmy (deserved), pet names (reader calls daisuke baby)

“Oh, Daisuke…” You sob, tears dripping down your face as you look at the young man lying on the floor in front of you. Once so vivacious and full of life, now he's reduced to a writhing, bleeding mess on the floor, hair matted with blood and eyes glassy. “My baby,” you hesitate to even touch him, but then you're stroking his cheek the same way you always did when you were cuddling together, “My poor baby, what happened to you?”

His pupils are unfocused, darting around crazily before finally settling on you, and his breath that was coming in short pants slows. “Mmm?” He looks up at you, really looks, and you know he knows you're there. “Yes, Daisuke, it's me, I'm here,” you gaze at him through teary eyes, “I'm here for you.” His hand rises shakily as if to hold your face and you cup it eagerly, nuzzling into it with an almost pathetic desperation, “D-don't move, baby, don't move.” You whimper, though you want nothing more than to stay like this with his warm hand on your cheek.

“I wish I'd been there with you.” The thought of the man you love crawling through the vents alone, through the dark and dust and dirt and sparks, all for the sake of saving poor dead Anya… it breaks your heart into pieces. You can't even fathom how much pain he's in, but he still musters up the strength to shake his head ever so slightly. Even on death's doorstep, he’s still worried about you. “Why did you go?” You weep, even though you already know the answer, “Stupid wannabe hero.” Daisuke exhales, a long ragged breath that's wreaked with pain and your heart shatters even more. You crumple into yourself, pressing your forehead against his gently, “You are a hero, Daisuke, okay? You're so brave, my precious baby, fuck-!” The absolute unfairness of the situation hits you like a freight train and you can feel your sanity slipping as you clutch his hand tightly, your sole tether to reality.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there with you,” you plead for his forgiveness, though you already know once you gaze into his loving brown eyes you'll find no hatred there. The guilt is overwhelming, threatening to consume you even though you were a victim of the same cocktail given to Swansea. Daisuke merely looks at you, his chest rising and falling, shallower and shallower each time. You know he doesn't blame you.

“My baby, Daisuke, I'll fix this, okay? You're going to be fine, okay?!” You can feel the hysteria lacing your tone and you don't know how to get rid of it. Then you feel the familiar weight of Swansea's hand on your shoulder, “Kid… Get out of the way.” You turn back to face the mechanic, and as soon as your bloodshot eyes catch a glimpse of the axe you know what he wants to do. “Swansea, no! You can't!” You throw yourself in front of Daisuke, sobbing freely, “Please, Swansea, don't do it!” Swansea's tough demeanor cracks for a split second, and he says, “He's suffering like this. You don't want him to be in pain, do you?” “But I want him to live,” You cry, “We're going to make it home together, Daisuke promised me!” Hearing the words leave your mouth cements the thought for what it really was – a childish fantasy. “Kid… I'm sorry,” is all Swansea can say, knuckles clenched white around the axe handle.

Daisuke lets out a pained gasp, air rushing in through gritted teeth, and you know you can't prolong this anymore. “Baby…” you brush his long brown hair out of his face tenderly, affection evident in your every move. Leaning down to press a final kiss to his lips, you whisper, “It'll happen, okay? We'll move in together and get two dogs that'll be best friends, just like you said you wanted. You'll go to art college and become the most famous painter in the whole world. And I'll be there with you every step of the way because-” Your voice cracks. “Because I love you so much, my Daisuke.” “Now close your eyes, baby,” You stay like that for a moment, thumb stroking his cheek as you watch his features slip into a content expression. Then you turn away, blood thrumming in your ears and rushing through your head, and before you know it, the axe is swinging through the air before hitting its mark with a sickening crunch.

A choked sob escapes your lips, and you feel Swansea's comforting embrace as he pulls you into his arms, “Shh… It's okay. It had to be done.” You bury your face in his chest, an endless stream of tears wetting his shirt, “Daisuke… he didn't deserve this!” “I've got you,” Swansea remains strong, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “No, don't look.” He guides your chin away when you crane your neck to try and catch a final glimpse of the man you love, “Remember him for who he was, not like this.” “Swansea…” A broken moan rips itself from your throat, “I loved him.” And all the old man can do is caress your hair, pulling you tighter into his arms as you cry, “I know, kid. He loved you too.”

—

“You.” You snarl as soon as Jimmy walks into the room, eyes widening when he sees Daisuke's corpse, “This is your fault!” “What the fuck?” Jimmy gasps, staring at Swansea, “You monster!” “Fuck you!” You scream, and the look of total shock and horror on Jimmy's face that you, a foolish intern dares to speak to him so rudely, is almost cathartic as you repeat, “This is all your fault!”

Then you're lunging at him, arms swinging in every direction until you topple him over, nails scratching at his face and gripping his neck so tightly you hope you draw blood. Tears are falling down your face as you sob, “I didn't say anything about what you did to me. About what you did to Anya. But why did you have to hurt Daisuke?!” “T-the medbay… locked… Anya…” Jimmy chokes out, and you laugh wildly, “What a fucking joke. You never cared about Anya, not when she was alive, and certainly not now that she's dead.” “And you know what?” Your nails dig deeper into his skin, and you feel a flash of wicked delight when you see the red beads start to form. “You drove her to it!”

Jimmy's gagging and spluttering, desperate for air, and you grin with vicious pride, “Is this how you felt? Sneaking into Anya’s and my room? Now you can fucking learn how we felt.” You're pressing down harder, desperate to make him feel even a sliver of the pain that Daisuke felt, that Anya felt, that you felt, but then Swansea's lifting you up and pulling you away, even as you kick and scream, “Swansea- no! Let me go!” You're about to sink your teeth into the older man's arm when he says, “I won't let you end up like him,” and you freeze, letting him place you gently on the sofa.

Jimmy holds his neck with both hands, desperately sucking in air until his frantic gaze meets yours, “You.” He stands up on shaky legs, trying to retrieve something from his back pocket, “You're a danger to the crew.” “What crew?” You bark out a hollow laugh, “There's no crew left.” Jimmy bristles at that, eyes bloodshot and crazed, “I'm going to fix this.” You laugh again, dry and devoid of mirth, “You're already dead, and so am I.” “You will be.” Jimmy cocks a gun at you, and you stare down the barrel with a warped smirk, “You were a useless captain, and an even worse man. Do it, you fucking coward.”

Swansea growls, readying the axe, but the wannabe captain's too quick. One shot bursting through your chest and you're gone. And as your eyes flutter closed for the last time, you catch a glimpse of Swansea swinging the weapon once more at Jimmy – you think you can die peacefully now that he'll avenge all the senseless deaths on the Tulpar.

You hope this hurts.

kira's notes : Um. No comment. i wrote the first half bc i was so sad abt the absolute tragedy that is daisuke's character, and then i got so unbelievably angry at jimmy that i had to write the second half LMFAO 😭 i had this in my drafts for ages bc it was xmas and then new years and i felt bad posting angst around those times 💀 but anyways happy new year! hope you liked this <3

[dixons-sunshine]

Sweet Dreams ‘Til Sunbeams Find You | Young!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: While being wide awake at 4am, you took the opportunity to admire your sleeping boyfriend. In the midst of it, he did something you had yet to see—well, her—him do, and it was the cutest thing to you.

Genre: Fluff.

This is part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe, but can be read as a standalone.

Warnings: Some allusions to Daryl’s home life, nothing else otherwise.

Word count: 1k.

A/N: My babies! It’s been so long since I’ve written for them. This was requested by @mayday2007. I hope y’all like this!

There was no reason to be awake. It was barely after four in the morning, the crickets still chirping outside the window of your small bedroom. The moon was still shining brightly, the stars were still twinkling merrily, and absolutely nobody was awake at that hour.

Well, almost nobody.

You sighed softly as you stared up at the ceiling, cursing whatever deity decided that you would not be able to stay asleep past three o’clock that morning. It was not like you had gone to bed early the previous night. Quite the contrary, you had gone to bed later than usual, yet despite that, you had awoke at an ungodly hour. And when you had tried to sleep further, your brain had decided against it.

So there you were, wide awake, completely bored out of your mind, but you refused to move. No matter how much your bladder would soon beg you to relieve it, or how much the sound of watching some movie in the living room sounded appealing, you would not move. Not until your boyfriend moved from your chest himself.

At the thought of the Dixon boy, you lowered your gaze from the ceiling to look at your dirty blonde-haired boyfriend. He was sound asleep, his head resting on your chest, his legs intertwined with yours as he laid more on top of you than on the bed, one of his arms lazily wrapped around you. His breathing was steady, his face relaxed and free of any frown lines. It was a sight you truly treasured, your heart warming at the fact that he felt comfortable enough to be so vulnerable with you.

You still could not believe how lucky you had gotten with him. Daryl Dixon was amazing to you. The boy you had known since you were merely twelve years old, your best friend turned boyfriend. He was not necessarily everybody’s cup of tea, but he was your’s. He had his flaws, but he also had his strengths. You loved him despite everything. Because of everything.

You brought one of your hands to thread your fingers through his hair. The boy mumbled something incoherent in his sleep and tightened his grip around you, burying his face deeper into your chest. The action made you smile. You were practically Daryl’s human teddy bear at that moment, and you loved it.

You pressed a soft, tender kiss to the top of his head, before leaning your head back against the pillows. You closed your eyes and thought about nothing in particular, trying to distract your mind enough so that you could hopefully slip back into the comforting depths of sleep. If even just for a few hours, it would be amazing.

A soft snore sounded from Daryl. The sudden, unexpected sound caught you off guard. You could not help the fit of giggles that erupted from your chest. You tried to stop it. You really did, but your attempts were futile.

The shaking of your body woke Daryl. He groaned and raised his head, his eyes squinting as he tried to focus. He could just barely make out your features in the relatively dark room, only being somewhat illuminated by the natural light of the moon.

“What?” was all Daryl managed to utter, his voice gruff and laced with sleep. The confusion was evident on his face, and he looked absolutely adorable to you.

“Nothing,” you began softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

Daryl shook his head and lowered it back to your chest. “S’alright,” he yawned. He blinked a couple of times to clear his mind of the fogginess. “Why were ya laughin’?”

It was your turn to shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, clearly not believing your little lie. “You think m’stupid? That I don’t know ya better than that?” he joked, playfully pinching your side.

You laughed and jerked away from the ticklish feeling. “You really wanna know?”

“Wouldn’t’a asked if I didn’t,” he retorted, raising his head to look at you again.

You smiled at him. “You have the cutest snores.”

Your boyfriend groaned and dropped his head once again. “Shit. You heard me snore?”

“I did,” you confirmed, bringing a hand to brush through his hair. “It was adorable.”

“Ain’t adorable,” he scoffed, although he could not help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’re just sayin’ it to spare my feelin’s.”

“I swear I’m not,” you promised him. “No lies, right? Even about little things?”

Daryl nodded slowly as you reminded him of the promise the two of you had made when you were fourteen. It had been made roughly a week after he had first made you aware of his home life. You still held him to that, even almost five years later.

“Right,” he mumbled, his words being punctuated with another yawn.

You smiled softly at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Go back to sleep. It’s late… or is it early?” you wondered aloud, before stopping yourself from the rabbit hole you would descend into if you kept thinking about it. “Doesn’t matter. Just go back to sleep, okay?”

“What ‘bout you?” your boyfriend inquired, his eyes already closed as slumber tugged at the back of his eyelids.

“I’ll try to get a couple of more hours too,” you reassured him, touched by his considerateness. “Now get some more sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. This time when the sun is up.”

“Alright.”

After a few minutes, Daryl’s soft snores emitted through the air once more. The sound brought a strange sense of comfort to you. You closed your eyes and made yourself comfortable against the pillows, intending to keep your promise to the Dixon boy. Surprisingly, sleep came easier that time around.

You sighed and let your body relax underneath the comforting weight of your boyfriend’s body. Right before you allowed yourself to drift off, you pressed one final kiss to Daryl’s head. “Sweet dreams.”

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

"Suck it n' look in his eyes!"⋆˚࿔ ⋆𝜗𝜚˚

synopsis: birthday blowjob for alhaitham hehehe

tags: vulgar, explicit, bj (obviously), cum eating, other than that pretty tame

wrd cnt: 0.8k

a/n: repost from old acc!

Alhaitham isn't one for relishing in the day of his birth, but he knows you like to make something special out it- so he lets himself humor it.

When he walked through the door, he was immediately hit with the sweet scent of roses and the evidence of its petals creating a clear and persuasive path.

He followed the trail of red velvet into your shared bedroom to find you sat and waiting, a wicked grin on your face.

"Happy birthday," you purred.

Alhaitham's eyes widened at the sight before him, his love in a dark hued set of lingerie, wrapped up like a delicious present all for him.

He was…surprised- to say the least, and a little nervous for what you had in store for him on his special day.

"This is...wow," he stammered, palms sweating slightly from his evident nervousness.

You unfolded your legs from the position they were in, pulling on the strap of your thigh garners straight as you stood up to go hug him.

"Come," you said softly, beckoning him.

Alhaitham eagerly complied, quickly closing the distance between you, his large hands catching you at the waist.

He captured your lips in a passionate tangle, tongues dancing together.

You pulled away just for a second to push him gently onto the bed.

As you straddled him; cold hands found the meat of your ass to grab and grind against his growing erection, his cock poking in between the folds of your clothed cunt.

You slowly trailed kisses down Alhaitham's neck, nipping at his sensitive skin along the way, continuing to grind against him, causing him to let out a low groan of pleasure as you both felt a familiar pool of pleasure and warmth in your bodies, growing each titillating second.

"Fuck-“ he groaned. "More...'

You smirked, making your way down his chest as he strips for you…quite fast at that, letting you leave a trail of hot kisses down his exposed skin.

When you reached the waistband of his pants, you look up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes; hungry to taste more.

"Can I take these off?" you ask innocently, as if he’d say anything but yes.

Alhaitham nodded slowly, unable to form words as desire coursed through his veins and a red hue stuck to his face, a rouge similar to the ones of the roses that led him here- to you.

You make quick work of Alhaitham's boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. His cock springing up free from its confines.

You breathed heavier now, feeling the weight of it in your hand and seeing all the pretty veins that were engraved into his cock.

Alhaitham groaned at the sight of your lust-filled gaze focused on him, so eager to feel your mouth wrapped around him.

You placed a soft kiss on the tip of his shaft, already tasting the pre-cum that had gathered there, only serving to make you even more determined.

You slowly licked a stripe up the underside all the way up, before swirling your tongue around the head, sucking it softly.

Alhaitham let out a low growl of approval as he tangled his fingers in your hair.

"Fuck- just like that…you're doing so well."

You took as much of him into your mouth as you could, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around him.

Bobbing your head up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke as your hand took the rest of it.

"Y-y/n...shit," Alhaitham groaned. "That feels so fucking good...don't stop-"

All you could do was moan in response, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure straight to Alhaitham's cock- but you continued to suck and lick him, alternating between slow and fast strokes.

Alhaitham's hips bucked involuntarily as you took him deep into her throat. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge with each passing second.

"I'm gonna cum...down your fucking throat," he warned.

You pulled away from his cock with a wet pop and looked up at him with a sultry smile.

"Not yet," you said teasingly. "I want to taste you a bit more."

With that, you took him back into your mouth, sucking him eagerly as you stroke his shaft with one hand. Your other hand pleasing his balls, gently massaging them as you continued to work him over.

It didn't take long for Alhaitham to reach his peak. He let out a string of curses as he came hard in your mouth.

"Don't you dare waste a drop..." He groaned, ragged breathing as he threw his head back.

And you damn sure didn't, swallowing every bit, eagerly milking him for every last bit of pleasure.

When he had finally come down from his high, Alhaitham pulled you up into a messy lock of lips. He could taste himself on her tongue, and it only served to fuel his desire even further.

"Happy Birthday to me." He breathed out against your lips.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[croworro]

Can you write a short schlatt fic in which the fem!reader confesses her feelings to him on stream or on the SDP -- but totally on accident? And of course he returns her feelings (either on off camera. You choose) Thanks boo!

Accidental Confessions

Pairing: Jschlatt x fem!reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none really

Summary: During a chaotic Phasmophobia stream, Schlatt’s relentless flirting leaves you flustered and questioning what’s real.

A/N: hope this is everything you were hoping for!! I’m actually so happy with how this turned out hehe

Your streaming sessions with Jschlatt had become a highlight of your week, and apparently, a highlight for thousands of viewers. What started as a one-off collaboration turned into a weekly tradition that fans clamored for. Schlatt’s relentless teasing, sharp wit, and surprisingly endearing moments always made for entertaining streams.

Tonight’s game was Phasmophobia, you reluctantly agreed to play after weeks of Schlatt goading you on Twitter.

“You ready to cry on stream?” Schlatt’s voice came through your headset as you joined the Discord call.

“More like ready to carry you,” you shot back, smirking as you adjusted your mic.

“Carry me?” Schlatt barked out a laugh. “Sweetheart, you couldn’t carry a flashlight without tripping over yourself.”

“Bold words from someone who hides in the van at the first sign of danger,” you retorted, rolling your eyes.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see that chat was already in chaos:

[Chat]:

• “Here we go again with the bickering couple.”

• “Schlatt’s flirting is so painfully obvious, omg.”

• “They’re gonna kill each other before the ghost does.”

The game loaded, and Schlatt’s teasing began almost immediately.

“Alright, chat,” he said, his tone smug. “Place your bets: How long before Y/N panics and accidentally gets me killed?”

“First of all, I don’t panic,” you said, grabbing the ghost detector. “Second, if you die, it’s probably because you’re too busy flirting with the chat to pay attention.”

“Oh, sweetheart, if I was flirting, you’d know it,” Schlatt said, his voice dropping into a playful drawl that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

Your face heated, but you forced a laugh. “Good thing I don’t have to worry about that, then.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he replied, his smirk practically audible.

You busied yourself with the game, trying to ignore the way his voice lingered in your mind. The two of you explored the haunted house, with Schlatt cracking jokes and occasionally pretending to be scared just to make you jump.

“Y/N, the ghost’s name is Lisa. Think you can charm her into leaving us alone?” Schlatt asked as you stepped into the darkened kitchen.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who keeps telling me I’m bad with women,” he said, grinning. “Let’s see you do better.”

“Fine,” you said, playing along. “Lisa, you’re a beautiful, independent ghost who doesn’t need to haunt this house anymore. Go find some peace, girl.”

Schlatt laughed so hard he almost dropped his flashlight. “Unbelievable. Chat, clip that. I need to save it for when Y/N tries to say she’s the serious one here.”

[Chat]:

• “I CAN’T WITH THESE TWO.”

• “Lisa’s shaking right now.”

• “Schlatt’s laugh gives me life.”

The game progressed, with Schlatt alternating between teasing you and pretending to be scared. When the ghost appeared out of nowhere, he let out a yell and ran, leaving you alone in the dark.

“Schlatt, you coward!” you screamed, clicking you keyboard keys frantically and fumbling for a hiding spot.

“Every man for himself!” he shouted from the safety of the van.

When the ghost finally disappeared, you stormed out of the house and into the van, glaring at Schlatt’s character.

“You are the worst teammate,” you said.

“And yet, you keep coming back,” he replied, his grin evident in his tone.

You groaned, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, sweetheart,” he added, his voice softer now.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you ignored it, focusing back on the game.

By the time the ghost finally killed Schlatt, you were too frustrated to even pretend to feel bad.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend half the game messing around, you wouldn’t keep dying,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.

“Aw, is that your way of saying you care about me?” Schlatt asked, his tone teasing but his words making your stomach flip.

“Of course I care about you, but I care more about winning,” you said quickly, not even thinking about what you had said.

“What was that?” he asked, his tone shifting slightly. Your eyes widened quickly when you realized what you had said.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, feeling heat creep up your neck.

“Nah, nah, you said something,” he pressed. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, sweetheart.”

The chat went wild:

[Chat]:

• “WAIT WHAT DID SHE SAY???”

• “CONFESS CONFESS CONFESS.”

• “Schlatt, stop bullying her, omg.”

You groaned, ending the game and pulling up your stream controls. “Alright, chat, that’s it for tonight. Goodnight, everyone.”

The protests from viewers were immediate, but you ignored them, ending the stream and ripping off your headset. Your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Schlatt: Call me.

You stared at the message, debating whether to respond. Finally, you sighed and hit the call button.

“Bit of an abrupt ending, don’t you think?” Schlatt said as soon as he picked up, his tone light but probing.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Alright, fair,” he admitted. “But seriously, what’s was that about?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. Schlatt’s teasing was usually easy to brush off, but tonight felt different—more personal.

“It’s just… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like you’re not joking, and I don’t know how to handle that.”

“What if I’m not joking?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Your breath caught, your pulse racing. “Don’t mess with me, Schlatt.”

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “Y/N, I’m not joking. I flirt with you because I like you. Hell, everyone in chat sees it. I thought you did too.”

You swallowed hard, trying to process his words. “I didn’t want to assume,” you admitted.

“Well, you don’t have to,” he said, his tone softening. “I like you, sweetheart. I have for a while.”

A nervous laugh escaped you. “You sure know how to make a confession dramatic.”

“It’s what I do,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “So… what do you say?”

“I think we should play another game,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.

“Another game?” he repeated, sounding surprised.

“Yeah,” you said. “But this time, you’re not leaving me to die.”

Schlatt laughed, his usual confidence returning. “Deal. But if you keep calling me a coward, I might have to change my mind about liking you.”

“Too late,” you teased. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good,” he said, his voice warm. “That’s exactly where I want to be.”

[slutpinks]

The gift from colleagues.

Lalisa Manoban (Lisa)

5858 words

previous part here

( Maintain the office boundaries? Nah, the temptation is too great...)

(A/N - please ignore the repeating lines and sentences.)

As the sweet-faced colleague reluctantly departed, Lisa was left alone with her real partner, Y/N. Suddenly, Y/N reached out and delivered a sharp, stinging spank to Lisa’s ample ass, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“So, my little slut, did you forget all about your real daddy while you were busy getting gangbanged??”

He taunted, his voice dripping with mock disappointment.

“I thought I taught you better than that.”

Lisa’s breath caught in her throat at the impact, a shiver of arousal rippling through her. She gazed up at Y/N with wide, submissive eyes, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Never, daddy,”

She purred.

“You’re the only one who truly owns me. I’m so sorry I got carried away.”

Instinctively, Lisa pressed her body against Y/N’s, silently begging for his touch, his affection, his domination. She needed him to claim her, to remind her of her place. In this moment now, no one else mattered – only her Daddy and the delicious punishment he had in store.

Y/N roamed his hands over Lisa’s body, a possessive gleam in his eyes.

“Look at you, my dear – your colleagues have made a complete mess of you,”

He purred, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction.

“I must say, I quite like it.”

Lisa shivered under his touch, her body alive with sensation. She gazed up at him, her eyes shining with a mix of submission and wanton desire.

“Forgive me, daddy,”

She whispered, her voice trembling.

“I couldn’t help myself. They were all so… hungry for me.”

Leaning in, Y/N captured her lips in a bruising kiss, his grip on her tightening possessively.

“You’re mine, Lisa.”

He growled against her mouth.

“Never forget that.”

With that, he began to explore her ruined body once more, his hands roaming over the marks and evidence of her previous defilement. Lisa whimpered, her every nerve ending alight with anticipation. She knew she was in for a delicious punishment, and she couldn’t wait to submit to her daddy’s will.

Lisa’s eyes widened as Y/N’s question struck a chord withing her. In the frenzy of servicing her colleagues, she had completely forgotten about her own needs and desires.

“Oh, fuckkk!!! Yes shit daddy!”

She breathed, her voice laced with desperation.

“I was so focused on pleasing them that I forgot all about my own orgasm. Please, I need you to take care of me. I need to cum so badly.”

Pressing her body against Y/N’s, Lisa gazed up at him with pleading eyes. Her arousal was palpable, her thighs slick with the evidence of her colleagues’ earlier attentions. She ached to be filled, to be claimed, to find the release she so desperately craved.

“Use me, daddy”

She whimpered,

“Please make me cum, I belong to you, and you alone, touch my pussy and make me cum daddy.”

Y/N gazed down at Lisa, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the ache for release that consumed her. Though he had not yet reached his own climax, he was determined to give his little slut the satisfaction she craved.

“Alright baby, you can cum my pet.”

He whispered.

Yet through her order Lisa didn’t orgasm. Chuckling softly, Y/N realized, he then reached down and gently parted Lisa’s thighs, his fingers tracing the slick fold of her pussy. The moment his skin made contact with her most sensitive flesh, Lisa’s body erupted in a violent, earth-shattering orgasm.

Her back arched, a guttural moan tearing from her throat as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her frame. Y/N watched, enthralled, as Lisa surrendered herself completely to the ecstasy he had unleashed. This was his power, his domination over her – to bring her to the heights of bliss with the merest touch.

“That’s it, my dear,”

Y/N purred, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction.

“Let it all out. You belong to me, and only I can give you the release you so desperately need.”

As Lisa’s orgasm subsided, she collapsed against Y/N, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her climax. She had been so focused on pleasing others that she had forgotten her own need. But now, in the embrace of her true daddy, she felt whole once more.

Y/N gently let Lisa fall to the floor, watching as she collapsed in a boneless heap at his feet. A satisfied smirk played on his lips as he moved to sit on the nearby couch, surveying his conquest.

Inside her mind, Lisa’s thoughts were racing. While she knew this was all part of her plan to clear Eli’s debt, she couldn’t deny the thrill of it all. She was loving every moment of this twisted game, her body singing with the pleasure of submission.

“I’m doing this for Eli.”

She told herself, even as her core throbbed with wanton need.

“But I can’t lie – I’m sure loving it too.”

Slowly, Lisa lifted her head, her gaze locking with Y/N’s. In that moment, she knew there was no going back. She had given herself over to him completely, body and soul. And deep down, a part of her relished the thought of being his obedient, willing plaything.

As Lisa watched Y/N jerking off roughly, she couldn’t bear to see him treating his cock so harshly. Quickly, she crawled over to him, jolting his hands away from his shaft.

“No, daddy, you mustn’t be so rough with this,”

She scolded, her voice laced with possessive anger.

“You have me as your plaything now. Why bother using your hands when you can use me instead?”

Gazing up at him with hungry eyes, Lisa reached out and grasped his cock, her touch feather-light yet electric. Slowly, she began to stroke him, her movements measured and deliberate.

“Let me take care of this for you, daddy.”

She purred, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

Y/N allowed Lisa to touch his cock for the first time in four days, and the young idol couldn’t contain her joy. A wide, beaming smile spread across her face as she reverently wrapped her fingers around his shaft, her eyes shining with pure happiness.

“Oh, daddy, thank you.”

She breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve craved this sooo much. Let me make you feel good, please.”

Shifting closer, Lisa began to stroke Y/N’s cock with long, languid motions, her touch feather-light. She relished the feeling of his hot, throbbing flesh in her hand, the power she held over his pleasure. In this moment, nothing else mattered but pleasing her daddy, the man who owned her body and soul.

As Lisa stroked Y/N’s cock with skilled, practiced motions, he gazed down at her with a curious expression.

“So, my dear, tell me – how did you enjoy being used by all those hungry colleagues of yours earlier?”

He purred, his voice dripping with dark amusement.

“I must say, the sight of you being passed around like a common whore was quite arousing.”

Lisa’s cheeks flushed at his words, a shiver of pleasure coursing through her. She loved the way he spoke to her, the way he reduced her to nothing more than a plaything for his twisted desires.

“It was… incredible, daddy.”

She admitted, her voice trembling with need.

“I’ve never felt so utterly owned, so completely used. The way they groped and fondled me, the way they took what they wanted – it was divine.”

Leaning in, Lisa pressed a feather-light kiss to the tip of Y/N’s cock, her eyes sparkling with wanton desire.

“But you know, daddy, no one can satisfy me the way you can.”

She purred.

“I belong to you, and you alone.”

Y/N chuckled at Lisa’s confession, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

“And what, my dear, was your favorite moment from that little gangbang earlier??”

He purred, his voice dripping with wicked delight.

Lisa’s breath caught in her throat at his question, a fresh wave of arousal washing over her. She paused for a moment, deciding to which moment to say.

“Oh, daddy, it’s so hard to choose just one,”

She admitted, her voice laced with longing.

“But I think… I think the moment when they all took turns using my thighs, forcing me to tight my thighs on their cocks – that was pure bliss, I enjoyed it so so so much, it was perfect.”

Leaning in closer, Lisa gazed up at Y/N through hooded eyes.

“The way they held me from my hips, the way they used me without mercy… it was everything I’ve ever dreamed of,”

She whispered, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“But of course, nothing would ever compare to the way you make me feel, daddy.”

Y/N chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on Lisa’s hair as he gazed down at her.

“Now, my dear. I must know – which did you enjoy more? The electric shocks your colleagues used to break you, or the way I commanded you to clean their filthy cocks??”

He purred, his voice dripping with wicked delight.

Lisa shivered under his touch, her core throbbing with wanton need. She knew her answer would please him, for she had never felt more alive than when she was utterly submitting to his will.

“Oh, daddy, the electric shocks were… exquisite,”

She breathed, her eyes locked with his.

“But nothing could ever compare to the bliss I felt when you ordered me to service all of them, with my mouth cleaning their cock. To have my mouth and tongue used as their plaything – it was pure ecstasy.”

Leaning in, Lisa pressed a reverent kiss to the tip of Y/N’s cock, her gaze brimming with adoration.

“I live to please you, daddy. In every way, you are my one and only.”

A wicked gleam in Y/N’s eyes as he gazed down at the submissive idol before him.

“My dear Lisa, I must admit, I never imagined you would be so easy to break.”

He purred, his grip tightening in her hair.

“As the famous BLACKPINK idol, I thought you might put up more of a fight. And yet, from the very first moment we met, you were already a begging mess at my feet.”

Lisa shivered under his touch, her core throbbing with wanton need. She gazed up at him, her eyes shining with adoration and complete surrender.

“Oh, daddy, you know I was born to serve you,”

She breathed, her voice trembling with desire.

“I may be an idol to the world, but in your eyes, I’m nothing more than your obedient, willing plaything.”

Leaning in, her tongue darting out to savor his taste.

“I’m yours, daddy. Completely utterly yours. Use me, break me, make me yours forever.”

Lisa’s eyes widened in terror as Y/N roughly grabbed her by the throat, slamming her against the wall. His grip tightened, and she could see the fury burning in his eyes.

“You let those colleagues use your thighs so much, huh slut!”

He roared, his voice laced with possessive rage.

“And you loved every minute of it, didn’t you, you filthy slut?”

Before Lisa could even think to beg for mercy, Y/N had positioned his throbbing cock between her trembling thighs. With a harsh thrust, he began to ravager her thighs, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the room.

Lisa whimpered, her body torn between the pain of his assault and the shameful pleasure it brought.

As his relentless pounding continued, Y/N’s other hand snaked down to Lisa’s aching pussy, his fingers mercilessly teasing and probing her most sensitive flesh. The dual sensations were overwhelming, and Lisa felt herself teetering on the edge of a mind-shattering climax.

Y/N relentless assault on Lisa’s trembling thighs was suddenly interrupted as he shoved two thick fingers deep inside her aching pussy. The sudden intrusion, combined with the merciless pounding of his cock, sent Lisa spiraling into a mind-shattering climax.

Her back arched, a guttural scream tearing from her throat as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her.

“Y/N! Daddyyy!”

She cried out, her voice laced with unbridled pleasure. Her entire body convulsed, her inner walls clenching desperately around his invading digits.

Y/N watched, a twisted grin spreading across his face, as he reduced his prized possession to a quivering, broken mess. This was his power, his dominion over her.

As Lisa’s orgasm finally subsided, she collapsed against him, her breathing ragged and uneven. She had never felt so utterly owned, so completely at his mercy.

Y/N’s relentless assault continued, his fingers ruthlessly probing Lisa’s aching pussy. With his other hand clamped firmly over her sensitive nub, he mercilessly stimulated her from both ends. The dual sensations were utterly overwhelming, sending Lisa spiraling into a second, even more brutal orgasm.

Her back arched, a guttural scream tearing from her throat as the pleasure threatened to consume her.

“Daddy! Please!!!”

She cried out, her voice hoarse and desperate. Her entire body convulsed.

Y/N watched, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. The sound of her cries, the sight of her unraveling beneath his touch, it was all music to his ears. He had broken her, claimed her as his own, and he had no intention of letting her go.

As the aftershocks of her climax finally subsided, Lisa yet again collapsed against Y/N, her breathing ragged and uneven. She had never felt so utterly owned, so completely at his mercy. She belonged to Y/N, body and soul.

As Y/N’s relentless thrusts continued, his hips slamming against Lisa’s trembling thighs, he began to feed her mind with a barrage of filthy comments.

“That’s it, my little slut,”

He growled, his grip on her tightening.

“Take my cock like the greedy whore you are. I bet you loved having all those cocks between your thighs, didn’t you??”

Lisa whimpered, her body alight with sensation.

“Please daddy,”

She breathed, her voice trembling.

“I only want you, I’ll do anything, just please don’t stop.”

Y/N chuckled darkly, his thrusts growing more erratic as he neared his own release.

“Oh, I have no intention of stopping, my dear,”

He purred.

“I’m going to use every inch of you until you’re nothing but a drooling, cum-soaked mess.”

With that, he redoubled his efforts, pounding Lisa’s thighs with renewed vigor. The sounds of their bodies colliding filled the air, mingling with Lisa’s desperate cries of pleasure.

As Lisa’s body still trembled from the aftershocks of her previous mind-shattering orgasm, Y/N leaned in close, his hot breath caressing her ear.

“Guess who’s about to cum, my dear?”

He whispered, his voice dripping with wicked delight.

Before Lisa could even formulate a response, Y/N’s fingers once again found her throbbing, sensitive flesh. With ruthless precision, he stroked and teased her most intimate places, pushing her relentlessly towards the edge.

Lisa’s back arched, a guttural scream tearing from her throat as a truly vulgar, squirting orgasm ripped through her.

“Daddy! Fuck, yess!!!”

She cried out, her voice hoarse and desperate.

“Make me cum, please! I need it so badly! Yessss!”

Lisa’s body trembled uncontrollably as yet another earth-shattering orgasm ripped through her. Y/N’s fingers mercilessly teased and stroked her most sensitive flesh, wringing every last drop of pleasure from her quivering form.

Collapsed against him, Lisa could barely catch her breath, her mind reeling from the intensity of her climax. Y/N leaned in close, his hot breath caressing her ear as he whispered darkly.

“Did you enjoy that, my dear?? I’m only getting started.”

A shiver of both fear and arousal coursed through Lisa at his words.

Gazing up at him with hooded eyes, Lisa nodded weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, daddy… please, don’t stop, I need more more more more.”

Y/N gazed down at Lisa with a twisted smirk, his fingers still mercilessly stroking her sensitive flesh.

“Here, you filthy bitch, have one more,”

He growled, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction.

Lisa’s back arched as another earth-shattering orgasm ripped through her, her entire body convulsing in Y/N’s unyielding grip. She cried out his name, her voice hoarse and desperate.

Y/N relentlessly drove Lisa to one orgasm after another, wringing every last drop of pleasure from her quivering form. Her cries of ecstasy filled the air as he mercilessly stimulated her sensitive flesh, refusing to let up until she had been reduced to a trembling, incoherent mess.

Finally, Y/N stilled his movements, removing his hands from Lisa’s aching pussy. He gazed down at her, a twisted smirk playing on his lips.

“Had enough, my dear??”

He purred, his voice dripping with dark amusement.

Lisa could barely catch her breath, her body still trembling from the intensity of her climaxes. She gazed up at Y/N, her eyes shining with a mixture of adoration and trepidation.

“Never, daddy,”

She breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lisa’s words were cut shot as another powerful orgasm ripped through her, her body convulsing uncontrollably in Y/N’s merciless grip. Yet he showed no signs of relenting, his relentless assault continuing for hours after hours, denying her eve the briefest respite.

Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, a mixture of unbridled ecstasy and sheer exhaustion. Her voice had long since grown hoarse from her cries of pleasure, but still Y/N drove her onward, determined to wring every last drop of bliss from her trembling form.

As the third hour drew to a close, Lisa felt as though she might shatter into a million pieces. Her entire being was alight with sensation, her nerves raw and overstimulated. And yet, through it all, she clung to Y/N, her devotion to him unwavering.

“Daaddyy…”

She whimpered, her voice barely audible.

“Please… I can’t take any more…”

But Y/N only chuckled, his grip tightening as he continued his relentless assault. For in his eyes, Lisa was his to command, his to use as he saw fit. And he had no intention of letting her go, not until he had taken his fill.

Y/N heard Lisa’s desperate pleas, but his grip on her only tightened. A twisted smile spread across his lips as he gazed down at her trembling form.

“Beg all you want, my dear,”

He purred

“But you know I won’t stop until I’m good and ready.”

With that, he redoubled his efforts, his fingers mercilessly stroking and teasing Lisa’s oversensitive flesh. Wave after wave of shattering orgasms ripped through her, leaving her a quivering, incoherent mess.

For two endless hours, Y/N showed her no mercy, denying her even the briefest respite. Lisa’s cries grew hoarse, her body shaking with a mixture of ecstasy and sheer exhaustion. But still, Y/N pressed on, determined to break her completely.

“Please, daddy!”

She begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t… I can’t take anymore. Please, have mercy!”

But Y/N only chuckled, his grip on her unyielding.

“Mercy?? My dear, sweet Lisa, I’m afraid I have none to give.”

And so the relentless assault continued, Lisa’s pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears as Y/N drover her ever closer to the brink of madness.

As the sixth hour drew to a close, the morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the dishevelled scene. Lisa’s body was utterly spent, her mind numb and destroyed from the relentless onslaught of pleasure that Y/N had inflicted upon her.

Leaning in close, Y/N gazed down at her with a twisted smile.

“Tell me, my dear Lisa, do you regret letting me take control?”

“Look at you now – a quivering, cum-soaked mess, all because I took advantage of your insatiable desires.”

Lisa gazed up at him, her eyes glazed over with a mixture of adoration and trepidation. Summoning what little strength she had left, Lisa shook her head weakly.

“NO daddy… I don’t regret it.”

Y/N grabs her head from her hair to take a look at her face, smirking at Lisa’s numb state he growled,

“Hmm lovely, now you’re perfectly brainless as I wanted you to be.”

Lisa’s mind and body so utterly spent, she didn’t even answer back. She yet again summoned all her strength to give him a smile, but unconsciously she give him a depraved ahegao. Her eyes rolled back, with the left one a little closer than the other, her tongue darting out and panting hard, like a dog.

Y/N laughed at her, he then spit on her tongue and smirk.

“Since you showed me this lovely expression, I will let you rest for now”

Y/N pushed her back on the bed, he grabs her phone to set up a alarm.

“Rest now, pet. You need to go to work in 3 hours.”

Y/N smirk darkly as he positioned the phone right between her thighs, pressing on her overstimulated pussy. He slowly walked outside the door before mentioning,

“I’m sure you will love the alarm.”

He purred, chuckling.

3 hours later Lisa woke up to a yet another mind shattering climax. The phone alarm ringing between her thighs, pressing against her overstimulated pussy. Her mind going numb due to overly overstimulation. Y/N heard Lisa’s pleasured scream due to her orgasm, he came into the room.

Lisa gazed up at him, her eyes still hazy with the lingering effects of her climax. Part of her wanted to beg him to keep her here, to continue his relentless assault. But she knew she had responsibilities to attend to.

“I… I have to go now, daddy,”

She said, her voice trembling, due to the recent mind shattering climax.

“But I’ll be back tonight as soon as possible. I need you, always.”

Y/N chuckled, pulling her in for a bruising kiss.

“I’ll be waiting, my dear pet. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

With that, Lisa reluctantly gathered her things, her legs still shaky from the intensity of her climax.

Lisa flinches slightly at her way out at the sting of Y/N’s slap on her ass, but a shiver of pleasure ran down her spine. She glanced back at him, her eyes smoldering with a mixture of defiance and desire.

“I could never forget, daddy,”

She purred, her voice dripping with sultry confidence.

“You’ve made sure of that, you own me!”

She exclaimed happily.

With a bright smile, Lisa turned and sashayed out of the room, her hips swaying deliberately. She knew Y/N’s eyes were burning into her, drinking in every tantalizing movement. The anticipation of their reunion tonight only fueled her excitement.

As Lisa made her way to the office, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of power. She had surrendered herself completely to Y/N, and yet, in that surrender, she had found a strength she never knew existed. She belonged to him.

With that thought in mind, Lisa straightened her shoulders and stepped into the office, ready to tackle the day’s tasks. Tonight, she would return to Y/N, ready to submit to his every desire. But for now, she would bask in the knowledge that she held a piece of him, just as he held her heart.

In the afternoon, Eli arrived at Lisa’s office, eager to spend their lunch break together. As he stepped through the door, Lisa’s face lip up with a warm smile. She quickly ushered him inside, eager to steal a few precious moments away from the demands on her work.

“Eli! I’m so glad you’re here.”

She said, her voice soft and affectionate, but hoarse from her previous cries of pleasures. Glancing around to ensure they were alone, Lisa pulled him close, pressing her body against his in a tight embrace. Her fingers traced he counters of his chest, igniting a spark of desire within him.

“I’ve missed you so much,”

She murmured, her breath tickling his neck. Slowly, Lisa leaned in, her lisp bushing against his in a tender, lingering kiss. The world around them seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the moment, their passion simmering just beneath the surface.

When they finally parted, Lisa gazed up at Eli, her eyes shining with a mix of love and longing.

As they sat down for their lunch, Lisa couldn’t help but feel a mischievous spark within her. With a coy smile, she turned to Eli, her eyes glimmering with a hint of playfulness.

“So, my dear Eli,”

She began, her voice laced with feigned innocence.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been a bit… preoccupied lately. Is everything alright with the debt situation??”

Lisa watched as Eli’s expression shifted, a flicker of unease crossing his features. She knew exactly how to push his buttons, to pique his interest and draw him deeper into her web of desires.

Reaching across the table, Lisa gently placed her hand over his, touch feather-light yet electric.

“You know you can always come to me if you need help, right??”

She murmured, her gaze unwavering.

“I’m here for you, Eli.”

The underlying meaning in her words was unmistakable, and Lisa could see the wheels turning in Eli’s mind. She knew that the mere mention of the debt would stir up a mix of emotions within him – fear, desperation, and perhaps even a glimmer of hope.

As Lisa leaned in to kiss Eli, he couldn’t help but notice a faint, unfamiliar taste on her lips. His brow furrowed slightly, but he chose to ignore it, not wanting to spoil their precious time together.

Lisa, on the other hand, was fully aware of his remnants of her earlier encounter. A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she deepened the kiss, her tongue teasing Eli’s in a way that hinted at her recent indiscretions.

Pulling back, Lisa gazed at Eli, her expression a perfect mask of innocence.

“Is something wrong, My love??"

She asked, her voice laced with feigned concern.

“You seem distracted.”

Eli shook his head, dismissing his earlier suspicions.

“I’m just happy to be with you, that’s all”

Lisa smiled, her heart swelling with affection for her devoted boyfriend. Yet, deep down, she knew the truth – that her loyalty belonged to another, a man who had claimed her body and soul. And as they continued their lunch, the weight of her secret only served to heighten the thrill of her deception.

As they ate, Eli couldn’t help but notice Lisa’s ravenous appetite. She was devouring her food with an intensity that seemed out of place for their casual lunch.

“Wow, you must be really hungry, huh?”

“Have you been working extra hard or something?”

He commented, a hint of concern in his voice.

Lisa looked up from her plate, her eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“Oh, you know, just trying to put in extra effort for the new album,”

She replied, flashing him a weary smile.

“It’s been a bit of a grind, but I’m pushing through.”

In the back of her mind, Lisa knew the real reason for her insatiable hunger – the hours of relentless, mind-shattering orgasms Y/N had wrung from her. But she couldn’t very well tell Eli that, not without risking the fragile façade of their relationship.

Reaching across the table, Lisa squeezed Eli’s hand, her touch gentle yet reassuring.

“But I’m so glad you’re here with me now,”

She murmured, her voice soft and sincere.

“You always know how to make me feel better.”

Eli smiled, his worries momentarily assuaged by Lisa’s affectionate gesture. He had no idea of the dark secretes she was harboring, the twisted desires that consumed her. And for now, Lisa intended to keep it that way, at least until opportune moment presented itself.

Lisa looked up at Eli with a faint, apologetic smile, her expression tinged with regret.

“I’m so sorry, my love, but I really do have to work late tonight,”

“This new album is just taking up so much of my time, you know?”

Inwardly, however, Lisa’s mind was racing with excitement. While she hated to turn down Eli’s advances, she knew where her true desires lay – with the domineering Y/N. The thought of returning to him, of surrendering herself once more to his unyielding touch, sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

“Maybe another time, hmm??”

Lisa murmured, reaching out to caress Eli’s cheek.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you soon.”

With that, she rose from the table. Gathering her things and casting one last longing glance at her boyfriend. But her heart was already elsewhere, yearning for the moment when she could escape to Y/N’s embrace – the only place where she truly belonged.

As Lisa entered the conference room, she caught sight of her colleagues – the very same ones who had used her. A subtle, knowing smile played on her lips as their eyes met, a silent acknowledgement of their shared secret.

Moving to the head of the table, Lisa greeted them with a professional demeanor, betraying none of the wanton desire that burned within her. Yet, beneath the surface, she was acutely aware of the power she held over them – the way their gazed lingered, hungry and possessive.

“Thank you all for joining me today,”

Lisa began, her voice steady and commanding.

“I have some important updates regarding the new album that I’d like to discuss.”

As the meeting progressed, Lisa found herself stealing glances at her colleagues, her mind racing with memories of their earlier tryst. The way they had touched her, the sounds of their pleasure – it all came flooding back, stoking the flames of her own insatiable lust.

Lisa’s expression darkened as the colleague spoke, his words dripping with filthy innuendo. She cast a sidelong glances at the others, feigning a look of disappointment.

“Y/N… he still hasn’t used my pussy,”

She said, her voice quivering with a hint of false sadness.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

The colleagues erupted in laughter, their eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. Lisa knew exactly how to play them, stroking their desires while maintaining an air of innocence.

Subtly, she shifted in her seat, her movements calculated to draw their attention to the curves of her body. She would use every tool at her disposal to keep them enthralled, all the while dreaming of the day when Y/N would finally claim her most intimate place.

As the meeting continued, Lisa’s mind raced with the possibilities, her body aching to be filled by the one man who truly understood her darkest desires. For now, she would bide her time, secure in the knowledge that her moment would come – and when it did, she would surrender herself to Y/N completely.

As Lisa stood at the whiteboard, explaining the details of the upcoming album, a few of her colleagues approached her from behind. Their hands roamed her curves, caressing her waist and hips in a seductive manner. One of them pressed against her backside, grinding their clothed groin against her as another cupped her clothed pussy, rubbing firmly.

Lisa’s breath caught in her throat, a quiet moan escaping her lips as their touches ignited the fire within her. She felt their lips trailing along her neck and cheeks, stealing passionate kisses as their hands continued their wanton exploration of her body.

Despite the compromising position, Lisa found herself melting into their embrace, her professional demeanor slipping away as her own desire took over. She knew she should resist for now, to maintain the office boundaries, but the temptation was too great. Surrendering to their advances, Lisa arched her back, silently begging for more.

(visual implication of her arching her back, begging for more.)

Lisa’s eyes widened at the man’s whispered order, a shiver of both trepidation and excitement running down her spine. She knew she should refuse, to maintain some semblance of professionalism. But the thrill of the forbidden act was too tempting to resist.

As the head of the department entered the room, Lisa discreetly slid her hands under the table, her fingers gently caressing each of her colleagues’ groins. She could feel them hardening beneath her touch, their breath hitching as she stroked them with practiced ease.

The meeting droned on, but Lisa’s focus was entirely on the tast at hand – quite literally. She worked each of them skilfully, building their pleasure until she could feel their bodies tensing, ready to release. When the meeting finally concluded, Lisa’s colleagues surrounded her, their pent-up desire finally unleashed. With a chorus of grunts and moans, they spilled their seed into the fabric of her panties, drenching her in their collective lust.

( Lisa’s cum soaked panties )

Lisa stood there, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she felt the warm wetness seeping through the thin material. She knew she would have to endure the rest of the day with the evidence of their tryst clinging to her, a constant reminder of her wanton submission.

After their pleasure everyone kissed her turn by turn. As they left the conference room, Lisa let out a shaky breath, her body still tingling from the intense encounter. Quickly, she pulled out her phone and dialed Alice’s number, her fingers trembling slightly.

“Unnie, you’re never going to believe what just happened,”

She whispered, her voice laced with excitement.

“The others… the colleagues they came in my panties, right here in the conference room. I can still feel it, Unnie. It’s driving me crazy!”

Lisa paused, listening to her friend’s reaction on the other end of the line.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have let it happen in the conference room, but I couldn’t help myself. The way they touched me, the things they said…it was too much to resist.”

She let out a shaky laugh.

“Now I have to wear these cum-soaked panties for the rest of the day. Can you even imagine??”

Biting her lips, Lisa glanced around the empty room, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I’m going to have to be extra careful, but I think I’m going to enjoy this little secret.”

Lisa’s expression fell slightly as she spoke to Alice, a hint of disappointment coloring her tone.

“It’s been days already, and Y/N still hasn’t fucked me. I’m starting to get really concerned… and so incredibly hungry for him.”

She let out a soft sigh, her fingers absently tracing the damp fabric of her panties.

“I need him, Unnie. I need his touch, his domination. The way he uses me my body, it’s the only thing that truly satisfies me anymore.”

Lisa paused, her brow furrowing in thought.

“Do you think I’ve done something wrong?? Maybe I’m not pleasing him enough? I’ll do anything, Unnie. Anything to get him to claim me, to fill me with his cock and his seed.”

The desperation in her voice was palpable, her need for Y/N’s attention bordering on an obsession. Lisa knew she had to find a way to secure his affection.

Lisa listened intently as Alice offered reassuring words, her spirits lifting slightly. A small smile played on her lips as she considered her manager’s perspective.

“You really think I’m doing everything right? That I’m… unignorable to Y/N?”

She asked, a hint of hope in her voice.

“I just want him so badly, Unnie.”

Straightening her posture, Lisa took a deep, steadying breath. The hunger within her was palpable, a constant ache that only Y/N could soothe.

“You’re right, I can’t let this get me down. I’m going to keep giving him everything that I have, until he finally claims me as his own. And when he does…”

She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Well, let’s just say, I’ll be the happiest woman alive.”

With a renewed sense of determination, Lisa gathered her things and headed out of the conference room, her mind racing with thoughts of the delicious encounter that was surely in her future. She would do whatever it took to secure Y/N’s affections, no matter the cost.

to be continued....

[itsgivingmami]

Unyielding- Rhea Ripley

After a shocking phone call turns Rheas world upside down, she rushes to the hospital to find her roommate—her closest confidant and secret crush—recovering from a car accident. As emotions run high, the tension between them shifts, forcing Rhea to confront the truth: some bonds are too unyielding to ignore.

Likes,comments and reblogs always appreciated💛😈

As Rhea Ripley stood in the bustling airport terminal, her phone rang, its tone cutting through the ambient noise. Glancing at the screen, she saw an unfamiliar number displayed. She wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to pick it up—maybe residual anxiety or sleep deprivation. The fact that she’d texted you almost two hours ago and heard nothing back gnawed at her.

“Hello, is this Rhea Ripley?” a calm voice inquired.

“Yes, this is she,” Rhea replied, her voice tinged with apprehension.

“Ms. Ripley, this is Nurse Thompson from L.A. General Hospital. Your roommate has been admitted following a car accident.”

Rhea’s breath caught, her world narrowing to the words coming through the phone. “Uh, okay, fuck, I… I’m about to board a flight home.”

“I understand this is overwhelming,” Nurse Thompson said gently. “She’s conscious and talking with her doctor.”

“Thank you,” Rhea managed to say before ending the call, her hands trembling. Could’ve led with that, she thought, frustration mingling with relief.

She stood motionless for a moment, the weight of the news pressing down on her. The announcement for her flight echoed in the background, but her focus had shifted entirely. She handed the gate agent her ticket and headed down the terminal, feet feeling heavier than any weight she’d lifted. She sat in her seat with her hood up, trying to steady her racing thoughts.

~

“Miss,” the nurse assigned to you for the past few hours peeked around the curtain, her overwhelming positivity evident. You offered her a tired smile in return.

“I’ve been gone for three days,” Rhea groaned, her eyes scanning your body for injuries. Her hands clenched and unclenched, torn between wanting to hold you and fearing she might cause you pain. “I thought you might set our place on fire, but crashing your car and a concussion…”

“Someone t-boned my car; I didn’t crash it,” you defended yourself, though it seemed she didn’t hear you. “Hey, I’m okay,” you tried again.

“No, you’re clearly not,” she retorted, her eyes burning as they met yours. You swallowed thickly. “You’re sitting in a hospital bed with a head injury.”

“It’s minor; it won’t mess with your schedule,” you said, hoping to ease her concern.

Rhea’s eyes narrowed, her frustration evident. “Won’t mess with…?” She sighed angrily, gripping the metal rail on the side of your bed as she leaned down, closing her eyes. “That isn’t my concern.”

Her scoff confused you as you tried to understand why your roommate was so upset.

“No, I guess I shouldn’t assume you’d take care of m—” you began, but she pushed off the rail, rubbing her hands over her face as she laughed quietly.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Rhea hissed, pacing within the confined space of the room.

The tension in the room was palpable, a mix of concern, frustration, and unspoken emotions hanging in the air.

Rhea’s pacing halted abruptly, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I can’t leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can I?”

You opened your mouth to respond, your voice soft. “I mean, I’m fine, so it’s oka—”

“No,” she interrupted, her tone firm and edged with frustration. “It’s not okay. Not when I feel like I’m going to go batshit fucking crazy, thinking about you being hurt.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of her words settling over you both. You reached out, your fingers brushing against her hand, offering a silent apology and seeking reassurance.

Rhea’s gaze softened at your touch, her fingers intertwining with yours. “I just… I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You squeezed her hand gently, your eyes meeting hers with a promise. “I’m not going anywhere,” you assured her.

Rhea’s eyes, previously stormy with concern, now softened as she gazed at you. The tension in her shoulders eased, and she took a tentative step closer, her fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The warmth of her touch sent a comforting shiver down your spine, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

She shook her head slowly, a small, tender smile playing on her lips. “Just promise me you’ll be more careful,” she murmured, her breath mingling with yours as she leaned in, the proximity creating a charged intimacy between you.

“I promise,” you replied, your words a mere breath against her lips.

The space between you seemed to disappear as Rhea closed the distance, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both gentle and profound. The world outside the hospital room faded away, leaving only the sensation of her warmth enveloping you. Her lips were soft, moving with a tenderness that spoke of unspoken promises and deep affection.

As the kiss deepened, her hand cupped your cheek, her thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. The connection between you was palpable, a silent communication of love and reassurance that words could never fully convey.

When you finally parted, both breathless and hearts racing, Rhea rested her forehead against yours, her eyes closed as if savoring the closeness. “I love you,” she whispered, the words a sacred vow between you.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice filled with unwavering certainty.

I don’t know what this is I was high and inspired and then came back to it…🤷🏻‍♀️😂

[1117feverlessdreams]

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.

©️1117feverlessdreams 2025

[respheal]

I've been marathoning the Hero of Legend's games and writing up a character study so I'm going to inflict a preview of that upon you.

First, games: I think the general agreement is that the Hero of Legend's games are A Link to the Past, Oracle of Seasons/Ages, and Link's Awakening (with LA before or after Oracle).

Linked Universe (and I) add A Link Between Worlds (which canonically has the same Link as in Triforce Heroes). In Nintendo canon, ALBW is likely a different Hero because the descendants of the sages you rescue are different, there are references to ALTTP happening a decent amount of time in the past, and there's one elderly character in ALBW who might actually BE the Hero of Legend. Ultimately though, it's not 100% clear or confirmed, so for the purposes of this write-up I'm going to add ALBW specifically because of the theme: Greed and Selflessness.

In Konjaku Monogatari, a book of Japanese folklore, there's a story of an old man begging for food from a monkey, a fox, and a rabbit. The monkey offers fruits and the fox offers a fish. The rabbit, however, couldn't feed the man grass like it ate, so the rabbit throws itself on a fire so the old man can eat its flesh. The old man, a moon god in disguise, rescues the rabbit from the flames and carries it to the moon as a reward for its selflessness.

Keep this in mind.

Link's story opens with him running into a stormy night with naught but a lantern to find his uncle dying in the castle culverts. Link is shortly after branded as a criminal for "kidnapping" Princess Zelda after he rescues her from the castle dungeons (and from Agahnim—Ganon in disguise).

Link gets set on a quest to first find three pendants to access the Master Sword and prove himself the Hero of Legend. Zelda and the descendants of the Sages are banished to the Dark World, where Link rescues them and eventually defeats Ganon himself.

The Dark World was formerly the Sacred Realm, where the goddesses left the Triforce. When Ganon broke in and wished upon it, his greed warped the Sacred Realm into the Dark World. Others followed seeking the Triforce, and all are transformed into creatures reflecting the greed in their hearts (notably, a lot of monkeys and foxes).

You hear this story throughout the game and it repeatedly hammers in the theme: greed corrupts. Greed is Bad.

Link is posed as an foil to Ganon, the selflessness to Ganon's greed. When Link enters the Dark World, he's transformed into a rabbit. His true form is a prey animal that can only run from predators, but most importantly his true form is considered a selfless creature in Japanese folklore. The connection is made more evident when it's the Moon Pearl that allows Link to maintain his Hylian form in the Dark World.

After defeating Ganon, Link has an opportunity to wish on the Triforce himself. You could argue that the truly selfless thing to do would be to not wish at all. That defeating Ganon should have been enough. Wanting—wishing—for anything could be construed as greed.

Link wishes anyway.

I don't think we know the exact wording of Link's wish, but it undoes the damage Ganon inflicted on Hyrule and the Sacred Realm. Link's uncle and the king are restored to life and people lost in the Dark World return to Hyrule. The selfless Hero's greed was rewarded.

Sometime after, the Triforce calls the Hero to the castle. When he arrives, he's sent to Holodrum (OoS) or Labrynna (OoA).

The order isn't critical. What matters about these games is the tone compared to A Link to the Past.

In ALTTP, Link is on a solitary adventure. He just lost his uncle. His face is on wanted posters. He's alone the entire journey save for a few visits and telepathic messages from Sahasrala and Zelda.

In Oracle, Link can't walk fifty paces without tripping on a new friend. He meets the Oracles themselves, Zelda's nursemaid Impa, the animal companions Ricky, Dimitri, and Moosh. He becomes a frenemy to Maple, the witch's granddaughter. Ralph and Link cross paths multiple times during Oracle of Ages. Link names a village couple's child.

I think in these games, Link learns to love adventuring. He learns how to dance from Din, the Subrosians, and the Gorons. There are a ton of mini-games. Even if lives are at stake, Link can have fun on this adventure.

In the end, however, Ganon is (partially) revived and Link has to defeat him once again. He saves the Oracles and Zelda and leaves on a ship for another adventure.

Lightning strikes his boat, and Link wakes up on the island of Koholint. He meets Marin, who found him on the beach and brought him to her father's home in Mabe Village.

Ever since Link appeared, monsters have grown more agitated on the island. An owl tells Link he needs to find the Instruments of the Sirens and wake the Wind Fish, or he'll be unable to leave.

The difference with this adventure is that there's not really a time limit that you know of. No one's been kidnapped, no one's being sacrificed to revive Ganon. Link is on a tropical vacation of an adventure. He even goes on a date with Marin (who is a much bigger gremlin than I expected).

The village and island are idyllic. Still, Marin wants to see the world. Her father doesn't believe there's anything past the sea, but meeting you gave her hope of a world outside.

But.

There are hints that something isn't right. Some of the creatures don't appear to be from the same world. There are owl statues with cryptic, nigh-incoherent messages. The first truly ominous one appears near the Ancient Ruins: "The Wind Fish slumbers long... The Hero's life gone..."

Within the Ruins themselves, there's a mural of the Wind Fish with a message:

"To the finder… The isle of Koholint is but an illusion. Human, monster, sea, sky. A scene on the lid of a sleeper's eye. Awake the dreamer, and Koholint will vanish much like a bubble on a needle. Castaway, you should know the truth!"

Link must wake the Wind Fish. When he does, Marin and everyone else on the island will disappear.

(In the 1994 manga by Ataru Cagiva, Link tries to build a raft to escape the island with Marin at this point. The currents pull them back in no matter how hard Link rows.)

"But, verily, it be the nature of dreams to end."

In the end, Link awakens the Wind Fish. The island fades. He wakes up adrift on his ship's wreckage. Link saves the Wind Fish by sacrificing himself—an act of "selflessness".

He's depicted as smiling in the end credits, but shh Nintendo is wrong. This is one of the most heart-wrenching endings to a game in the series. And after everything this Link has been through, I cannot imagine he's okay after this. His act of selflessness is his emotional undoing.

This Link is greedy.

I don't mean it negatively. This is a positive, protective greed. This is a greed that says, "these people are my people and I will throw myself in the flames to feed keep them." It's selflessness and greed rolled into one. In his first adventure, he went to the ends of the earth to get his uncle and Zelda back. In his second and third, he met dozens of friends and, once again, sacrificed his safety to bring the Oracles, Ralph, and Zelda home. His sacrifice is always in service of bringing his loved ones back.

In Link's Awakening, he loses Koholint. And there's absolutely nothing he can do to keep them.

Whether this same Link goes on to A Link Between Worlds is up to interpretation, but ALBW does add a bit more to this theme. Even if it's a different Link, there are strong parallels between ALBW and ALTTP.

ALBW's plot happens because Hyrule's parallel world, Lorule, lost its Triforce. Lorule's people fought over the Triforce in conflict after conflict until finally they wished for it to be destroyed. When the loss of the Triforce breaks the foundation of their world, Princess Hilda tries to steal Hyrule's.

Everyone in Hyrule has a Lorulean counterpart—their foil, similar in appearance but with a "flipped" nature. Not exactly opposite, but like looking at that character through a fun-house mirror. Hilda is cruel compared to kind Zelda, but both will do anything to save their people. The difference is where they draw the line of what's acceptable in pursuit of that goal.

Link's Lorulean counterpart is Ravio, the greedy, self-proclaimed coward in a rabbit outfit.

The primary adventure of ALBW is mostly a rehash of ALTTP in terms of dungeons, with the Dark World replaced by Lorule and the Seven Maidens replaced by a variety of new characters.

It's Ravio's presence that's the key element in this game. Ravio, in the guise of a traveling merchant, gives Link the bracelet enabling the game's core mechanic (merging into walls) in exchange for a place to stay. Ravio moves into Link's house, shoves all of Link's furniture against the walls, and sets up an item shop from which he RENTS OUT the magic items Link needs for the dungeons. Or Link can buy each one permanently for the low, low price of 800 rupees. If Link falls in battle, Ravio's bird carts Link back to his house and Ravio takes any rented items back.

When you buy all of his items, Ravio's stays in Link's house just lounging and enjoying life. "You know, it's been WAY too long since I've been in a singing mood. But I've got a new outlook on life, and it's all thanks to you, Mr. Hero!"

The truth comes out. Ravio was Hilda's servant in Lorule. When Hilda and Yuga hatched the plan to steal Hyrule's Triforce, Ravio fled into Hyrule to find a Hero to stop it, thinking himself too much of a coward to do anything (and not realizing that in this act of betraying Hilda, he showed more courage than most).

Ravio convinces Hilda to let Link and Zelda return to Hyrule with their Triforce. He pleads for Hilda to take the selfless course of action.

"Lorule may be doomed, but at least our kingdom won’t be condemned for stealing their Triforce."

When Link and Zelda make it home to their world's Sacred Realm, they immediately reach for Hyrule's Triforce and wish for the restoration of Lorule's. The greedy merchant's selflessness is rewarded.

Link and Ravio are two sides of the coin of greed and selflessness. Which character is on which side? It's the same coin, anyway.

Okay Link fans I need help. I have my Link/Zelda game that I’m specifically fixated on (that being Wind/Wind Waker), but I want to be able to write/understand other Links with the same amount of care that I give to him.

So if anyone who sees this post has a Link who is their favorite little guy (you’ve played his game(s) multiple times, you’ve made a bunch of headcanons about him, you think about him all the time, etc etc), I want to hear your perspective on that Link. I wanna know what you think his general personality is. I wanna know what you think he was like pre-journey(s). I wanna know how you think his journey(s) affected his development. I wanna know how you think the themes of his game(s) intertwine with his character. I wanna know how you view his significant relationships. And I wanna know anything else about him that you would like to share. Any information/ideas are appreciated, just absolutely go off ^_^

[siggiedraws]

As someone who considers Silver to be her favorite Sonic character, I had spent a good while wondering why I keep feeling frustrated with him in the IDW comics as compared to Archie and I think you might had put into words why. His lack of a backbone is kind of weakening him in hindsight. I still like him all around and there are parts of IDW that do justice to his character and even expand on it (I will never not be happy for his journey as a gardener cause that is both in line with his love of nature and very refreshing to see for a male character to have unabashedly, especially someone Silver's age). Though I will disagree with you saying that Archie had NO backbone. He was constantly in conflict with Sonic over finding out who the traitor to the Freedom Fighters that lead to his bleak future is and he consistently makes mistakes that make him come off as cocky and bratty, to the point that Sonic eventually grows to hate Silver and even disregard his warnings when he does discover the actual truth until it's too late (that truth of course being that Sally betrayed everyone unintentionally with her Robotinazation, something no one wants to be true until they have to face it after the fact). Archie Silver is still flawed, but he is closer to his game counterpart more than IDW Silver is, at least in my opinion he is.

Thank you for your sharing your opinion and being very polite about it! To clarify something, I did not mean to say Archie Silver had no backbone. I was using him as a point of comparison because I noticed similarities with IDW, in that he is portrayed as more polite/timid than his game counterpart. I understand your interpretation of my previous post because I didn't get into it for the sake of not getting off topic. In the future, I will avoid making points without providing evidence in order to avoid confusing people or derailing my argument.

What I want to argue here is that I think your point arguing that Archie Silver has a backbone is still compatible with my position of both comic Silvers possessing noticeable character differences from game Silver that share the same problem with Silver being portrayed as polite or timid, just to different degrees.

I absolutely do not want to be unreasonable here! I agree with you that he is more similar to his game counterpart than IDW is and I won't deny the examples you just listed. I hope the examples I bring up can help illuminate my perspective a little bit and why Archie Silver is a bit too similar to IDW Silver for my liking.

Sonic the Hedgehog #195 - Silver tries to politely interject in on the fight, to the point of saying "excuse me" and "ma'am."

I am aware that he stops them all directly after this moment, however, it should not have happened in the first place if Archie Silver was aiming to be like Game Silver.

Sonic the Hedgehog #235 - Silver stammering in front of Sonic and allowing himself to get dragged through the dirt by his quills.

I think it's not in-line with the games for Silver to allow himself to be disrespected like this. If the Rivals games teach us anything, he gives back equal if not more aggressive energy when he perceives that someone is disrespecting him. Silver calling Sonic a jerk is really small potatoes.

If Silver reacts this way to being called crazy, how do you think he would react to being dragged through the mud by his quills? Not well, I can tell you that.

Silver's stammering here is also of note because it communicates that he's intimidated by Sonic when he has no reason to be if this were an accurate portrayal to the games.

Sonic Universe #43 - Silver tries to lie.

In the games, Silver is so honest and sincere when he speaks that it could be attributed to a source of his rudeness. Lying and deception is simply not something he ever considers doing. We've been shown in Rivals 2 quite clearly that Silver is honest to a fault. This panel also shows Silver being polite and timid in his mannerisms.

Silver attempting to lie happens to be a trait that is shared with IDW Silver in the 2022 annual.

Sonic Universe #25 - Another example of Silver not defending himself from being disrespected and using the term "sir."

Silver's childlikeness is emphasized here, as he is put in direct contrast with an elderly character who comes across as an authority figure, one he seemingly accepts and calls "sir" to be polite. This is an example of what I meant in my post when I say that Silver's naivety keeps getting conflated with being childish. He even says "b-but he started it" like a child telling on a sibling to their parents.

I acknowledge there is a tiny moment where Silver speaks passive-aggressively in the second to last panel, but Silver listening to the order of "don't sass your elders" directly afterwards quickly negates this moment.

Another moment from the same issue shows Silver becoming timid and lacking in confidence when faced with six enemies.

This directly contradicts the games where Silver is very confident in his abilities when faced with a horde of enemies. In Colours DS, he shows an eager willingness to fight and gets disappointed when Orbot and Cubot flee instead, which is opposite to how Silver attempts to avoid fighting in Archie.

Now, in the Archie example, Silver gets defeated by the enemies, which indicates that his timidness is because he is outmatched. I would argue that this is still not true to Game Silver. In '06, Silver readily and confidently fights Iblis, despite Iblis coming back time and time again and never truly being defeated.

Another example is when he fights Shadow. Despite losing to Shadow, and being told that it's no use fighting Shadow due to his Chaos Control ability, Silver does not start behaving timidly. He is still as determined as ever.

-

Thank you very much for your ask! I hope the examples provided illustrate why I brought up Archie Silver as an example in my previous post about this topic. I agree with you about gardening being a good recent addition to Silver's character, it's very wholesome to see him indulge in his love for the world around him.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

I'm sad and angsty and yes, there's dragon Sylus smut being written but first, I must make my angst everyone's problem.

--------

"My dragon was gone."

That's what you had assumed anyway. Now bearing half his soul, with horns, wings, and a tail of your own, you had forced yourself to live. But life had it's own way of providing miracles.

It didn't take long for you to realize you were tired and listless, constantly hungry, but rarely with enough energy to actually find food. At first, you were certain Sylus's death had somehow weakened you, and the thought of joining him in the blissful dark had seemed like your only salvation.

Then one day, you had stopped by the edge of a river to bathe, and that's when you noticed the obvious bulge in your belly in the reflection; you hadn't cared to groom or see yourself after Sylus's passing. Now you run a hand in awe over the smooth bump, evidence that even in his death, he had also provided you with life.

You had no idea how long a dragon hybrid pregnancy was, only that it was much faster than a typical human. Which is why when you felt a sharp pain a few weeks later, you weren't surprised, but also couldn't suppress the feeling of being utterly unprepared. You had hurried back into your cave, your shrieks of pain echoing off the walls. Your hands dug into the makeshift bed you had prepared, feeling like you would pass out from the pain.

Alone. The word swirled in your head over and over like ash from a volcano. Alone, alone, alone. You'll never see your dragon again. He had left you, and you were here, about to be a mother, to raise his children without him. Sweat gathers on your forehead as you squat, trying to arrange the softest bits of fur for the arrival of your child despite feeling like your body is being cleaved into two.

You sob, tears streaming down your face. How could he expect you to this alone?

You're not alone. You're never alone. Your soul is yours, but it is also mine.

You don't know where the voice came from. It echoed in some confine of your brain but you feel Sylus's presence, can almost sense the comforting heat that he used to emanate with his clawed hands wrapped around you. He was right. He hadn't really left you. He had given you the most primal piece of himself to ensure you carried on his legacy.

Hours pass in agonizing pain, but you survive. And somehow, even in his absence, your dragon had left you another surprise. From your blood and screams, two little souls made their way into the world. You wrap them tenderly in the furs you had arranged, gazing adoringly at their chubby cheeks and small clenched fists. One of them cracks open an eye lazily, and you catch sight of a bright, ruby-colored eye, before it dozes off again.

They had the tiniest wings, still folded and glistening from delivery, and bitty little claws on their fingers and toes. Identical to each other, their chests rose and fell in tandem as you cuddled the precious bundles. You already knew their names.

"Welcome...Luke and Kieran."

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@brekkersgfl @adyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo

@supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume

@theimmortalbuns @venussakura

[deposedefenddeny]

This might be a stupid question, but is it okay to send him letters since he is in an ongoing investigation?

I sent my letter today showing support for his current prison circumstances and him as a person, I didn’t mention the alleged crime at all but don’t know if my wording can be assumed as being that way. Idk if there are lists anywhere about people who write to criminals, but yeah. Someone jokingly said I’d now be on a no-fly list for supporting a terrorist which is clearly silly but should I be worried at all that I sent a letter to him? In any capacity? Letters are private and it’s not illegal to send mail to inmates as far as I know. Plus he’s a high profile case, many fellow Americans are sending him books, letters, etc.

I find it interesting that your concerns lies with how it could impact you, but not Mangione.

But sorry, letters to incarcerated people are not private, aside from official legal correspondence. Correctional facility staff open letters and read them in order to review the content, and will often scan letters, like the facility Mangione is held in does, or otherwise save them electronically. According to the Innocence Project, one of course could expect that letters received and sent to an incarcerated person pertaining to their case can be used against them.

In the case of Luigi Mangione, recall that the Manhattan DA has charged him with counts of murder in the first and second degree in furtherance of terrorism. As mentioned in the indictment, one of the requirements in New York state for convicting someone on terrorism-related charges is that the crime must have been done "with intent to intimidate or coerce a civilian population." If the prosecution wanted to argue that the public reaction to the UnitedHealthcare shooting fits this requirement, which would not be unreasonable considering the many politicians who have been making a stink about this, it is conceivable that letters that are supportive of the crime, maybe even just sharing displeasure about the insurance or healthcare industries, could be used as evidence for this purpose.

To answer the question on whether this would impact someone sending letters, the answer is likely to be no, not really. I believe it may be true that the correctional system keeps track of who is sending mail to an incarcerated person. But generally if a letter or its content doesn't fit guidelines, it will be returned to sender. Excessively gratuitous infractions like threats or extortions may receive special attention, but that is not for certain. These matters are generally covered in the Bureau of Prisons' policy on correspondence, which oversees the federal facility that Mangione is in.

Although I should wrap this up, speaking more generally I discourage sending mail and other things to Mangione, and for this reason I have never shared or publicized information on how to contact him. My main reasoning for this is that the majority of people already speak disrespectfully of him. Many only see him as a symbol for a cause they are rallying against, and not as a person, who is non-coincidentally going through the worst experience of his life. Many who are interested in him as a person are flat-out creepy and invasive, condoning the way media and individuals have been dissecting his life under a microscope. To me, it sounds nightmarish to be in a concrete box inundated by letters that dehumanize you or have details about your private life.

[hakkkuu]

thinking about... perv best friend anton, who has always liked you but is so afraid to tell you how he felt, afraid you’ll push him away, so during your weekly movie nights, he drugged your drink...

waking up hazy after a few minutes just to see anton trying to fuck himself into you through your panties.... nibbing your nipples through your dress too.... you begged him to stop but he just wont....

omg yes i waited for such a request

cw: perv, drugs, noncon, dry humping, forced orgasm

Broken Bonds

You stir, your consciousness slowly returning as the haze of sleep lifts. The room spins momentarily, and you realize with a jolt that you're not in your own bed. The events of the night come rushing back to you. Anton's invitation for a movie night, the drink he offered, and then...darkness.

As your eyes adjust to the dimly lit room, you see Anton above you, his eyes wild and filled with a mixture of lust and fear. He's grinding his hips against you, his erection straining against your clothed body, trapped between your soft thighs. The sound of fabric rubbing against skin fills the air, creating an erotic yet disturbing melody.

"Please, Anton... stop..." Your voice is hoarse, betraying your weakness. You try to push him away, but his hands grip your wrists, holding them down above your head. His breath is hot on your face, and you can smell the tang of desire on him.

"Shh...it's too late for that," he whispers, his voice thick with anticipation. "You should've thought about this before you agreed to my little concoction."

A whimper escapes your lips as you struggle against his hold, but Anton's grip is firm, his strength surprising. You feel his hardness pressing insistently against your core, separated only by the thin layer of your panties and his boxers. The wetness of his precum has already stained your thighs, a testament to his arousal.

"You've always been so innocent," he murmurs, his lips trailing along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine despite your fear. "I couldn't resist anymore. Its your fault"

As he speaks, his hips move in a slow, torturous rhythm, rubbing against your sensitive bundle, making you gasp and arch against your will. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and violation. You feel your body betraying you, responding to his touch, and you hate yourself for it. You forever will.

"No... please..." Your pleas are muffled as he covers your mouth with his, kissing you forcefully. His tongue invades your mouth, mimicking the invasion of your body, and you taste the saltiness of his desire. He groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, causing a strange, unwanted arousal.

Anton pulls away, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your reaction. "Feel that? That's what you do to me, you slut. I've dreamed of this moment, dreamed of ruining you."

His words are like a knife, twisting in your heart. You want to deny it, but the evidence is right there, pressed against your core. He's been hiding his true self, and now you're at his mercy.

"Let me show you how it feels to be truly wanted," he breathes, his lips ghosting over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His hips pick up a relentless pace, grinding against your clit through the damp fabric. The pleasure is intense, building with each thrust, and you find yourself moaning, caught between resistance and surrender.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" he taunts, his voice laced with satisfaction. "I know your body, know what makes you tick. I've watched, I've waited, and now I'll take. Im tired of fucking my hand to you in secret"

With a rough tug, he tears your dress, baring your breasts. His fingers pinch your nipples, rolling and tugging, sending sparks of pleasure-pain through your body. You arch off the bed, a cry escaping your lips, as he continues to grind against your most sensitive spot.

"Anton, please... I..." Your words trail off as an intense wave of pleasure crashes over you, overwhelming your senses. Your body convulses, betraying your resistance, as he brings you to the edge and pushes you over.

"That's it... let go," he urges, his voice a low growl. "Surrender to me, to this pleasure. It's what you want, what we both want."

Your mind is a blur as he continues to stimulate your body, each touch and grind pushing you further into a maelstrom of sensations. You're aware of the wrongness of the situation, but the pleasure is too intense, clouding your judgment.

As you teeter on the edge of another climax, Anton's movements become more frantic. His breath comes in ragged gasps, and his hips slam against yours with increasing force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a primal rhythm accompanying your shared ecstasy.

"Yes... yes..." he pants, his eyes rolling back as he finds his own release. His body trembles above you, his hot breath on your neck, as he rides out his orgasm, prolonging the sensation by grinding against you.

In the aftermath, you lie beneath him, your bodies entangled, both of you breathing heavily. The air is thick with the scent of sex and unspoken emotions. Anton's weight presses you into the bed, and you realize with a start that this is not the end but merely the beginning of a dark chapter in your friendship.

[abiteofhoney]

The Vampire and The Devilspawn

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Chapter 10

It’s not often that Anzurin doesn’t know what to do. It’s very rare that anything frightens him, but the rage in her eyes as she tried relentlessly to get him…. That scared him. There was death in her eyes, a murderous fire in her dead heart unlike any other vampire he’s ever seen. 

Rightfully so. 

After what’s been done to her, he’s surprised she’s not worse off. If he’d experienced half of what it seems she’s been through, he’d be killing everyone in his path and not stopping until he has to be killed, and maybe that’s where Magdalena is heading, but he will not kill her. She shouldn’t have to die because someone else hurt her so horribly. 

But it’s been a long time since Anzurin has witnessed such raw, unbridled rage, the first time he’s ever been on the receiving end of it, and it’s somewhere he never wants to be again. He knows that he’ll piss a lot of people off in the future - that’s unavoidable – but he can avoid making Magdalena that angry at him again. He’s ventured into Magdalena’s mind uninvited for the last time, and he’s kicking himself for doing it at all. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, a whisper in the silence of her bedroom, whether she believes him or not. He means it. He truly means it, so he promises to her, “I’ll never do that again without asking you first. And, even more, I’ll teach you how to keep devilspawn out so no one can ever get in your mind again. I’m sorry, Magdalena.” 

“You’re not,” she cries, and it hurts his heart to hear the pain in her voice. 

Now that she’s not fighting, he unwinds his tail from her ankles and sets her back on her feet. He pulls back to look at her, but she keeps her tearfilled stare firmly on his chest. “I am sorry,” Anzurin insists. “I am. I swear I’ll never again enter your mind without permission. Come on, Maggie, you’re hungry, aren’t you? Let me feed you.” 

He knows it’s probably not his best idea, not while he still hasn’t eaten yet today, not when she’s still so angry and upset, but it’s the only way he can think to show her that he is sorry, that he wants to help her. It’s all he can do for her right now, at least. 

It’s his way of extending a hand to her, and he hopes she takes it. 

So it’s a relief when she nods and her gaze crawls up his chest to his neck. He doesn’t move as she reaches up to trace her pointer finger down the front of his throat, then her attention cuts to the bed and she points at it. “Lay down.” 

Apprehension twists his gut, but Anzurin does as she requests and kicks off his shoes before placing himself in the middle of the bed, leaning back against the headboard. 

But as she climbs into the mattress next to him, she shakes her head and repeats, “Lay down.” 

Heart pounding, he does. He scoots down until his head finds the pillows. Magdalena wastes no time in swinging a leg over his waist to straddle him, and she places her palms on his chest as she stares down at him. She focuses first on his neck, lips twitching in a hint of a smile when he swallows roughly, but that ghost of a grin disappears as she slowly raises her gaze to his. 

Her eyes meet his, and he recognizes it for what it is: a moment of trust. Trusting him not to intrude on her mind. Trusting him with the door to her soul and hoping he doesn’t burst through it, so he doesn’t. Anzurin simply gazes up at her and leaves her mind untouched. It’s hers, and she made it perfectly clear that he needs to stay out of it. 

She holds still for a few seconds, red-brown eyes bouncing back and forth between Anzurin’s. Her eyes are getting redder, little by little the more she feeds on blood. Soon, there won’t be a sliver of brown left, no remaining evidence of her human life. 

So incredibly slowly, Magdalena leans down towards him, stopping only when their noses are an inch from touching, and Anzurin’s heart stutters a beat when her touch finds his face, expecting her to lose her temper and use his moment of weakness against him. She’s in an advantageous position against him, sitting on top of him, and she could really do some damage before he’s able to stop her if she so wishes. 

But just as she trusted him to stay out of her mind a moment ago, he trusts her to not hurt him, and it pays off when she only caresses the side of his face. Her touch ventures upwards, first, and he shudders with a shaky exhale when she traces the sensitive seam where his horns meet his skin, then all the way up to press her finger against the point of one of them. Bringing her touch back down, she outlines his pointed ear, and then follows his jawline all the way down to his chin, which she then grips gently to tilt his head to the side, exposing more of his neck to her. 

Without pulling away from him, she scoots down where she straddles his waist, settling on his hips as she brings her face to his neck. Anzurin braces himself, preparing for the sting of her vicious bite. He gave her permission earlier to bite as hard as she wants to, and he expects her to take full advantage of that. 

Again, though, she surprises him, and she doesn’t immediately go for the bite. Her nose grazes his skin first, drawing a line up from his collarbone to jawline, lips following after. “Maggie,” he murmurs when she begins to kiss his neck, rather than biting. That is certainly not a good idea. “Feed, if you’re going to.” 

She only shushes him and continues to kiss, her tongue joining the mix every once in a while, and he knows it’s not a good idea at all, but he doesn’t stop her. He doesn’t want to. The weight of her settled on his hips and chest feels better than it should, and the sweet caress of her lips against his skin is too delicious to deny. 

Even more so as she digs her fangs into his neck, teasing but not yet piercing him. “Are you sorry?” she asks in a whisper, and Anzurin barely manages a breathy ‘yes’ whispered into the air. He is sorry, and he’d answer the same even if she wasn’t perched on top of him.

Anzurin wants her to bite him. Right now, he wants it perhaps more than he’s ever wanted anything before. His thoughts have been on the bite they shared after he woke up, craving it ever since, and his pulse thrums excitedly in his ears as her fangs scratch his skin, soothed by her lips. 

Then, gently, just as he taught her, she bites him. His breath catches at the flash of pain as her fangs sink into him. Her tongue presses flat against the vein she surely nicked, massaging his blood out without removing her fangs. She digs in a little deeper, all of her teeth pressing into his skin, holding there for just a few seconds before she loosens. 

Anzurin could just lose himself here in the blissful pain of Magdalena’s bite. 

He’s fed many before, fledglings and vampires both, but it’s never quite been like this. They’ve never been like her. Her bite alone is unlike anyone else’s. So sharp, so much anger behind it, but still somehow caressing, delicate. Needy. The hunger in every bite is a hunger separate from her bloodthirst. A taste for flesh between her teeth, one he’s too willing to feed. 

But she’s also unlike anyone else he’s ever met. Of course, he’s never known a fledgling to be tortured and have their mind erased before being dumped at a coven. Watching her start to find pieces of herself over the past few days has been admirable to see. What types of things make her smile, like the tap of her bare feet on the floor, or what kind of things anger her, like devilspawn with black eyes. Devilspawn that might have tortured her. 

Anzurin can feel her rough scars under his touch as his hands trail up her thighs, slipping under the hem of her pretty blue dress. Giving her time to stop him if she wants to, Anzurin ventures higher, wrapping his large hands around her thighs, and his tail moves to snake along her calf. She doesn’t try to kick or stomp on it this time as it wraps around her leg. 

Maggie hums happily as she drinks from him, nuzzling closer. She presses her face so desperately to his neck, and her fingers dance down his chest, marking an invisible path down to the bottom of his shirt, dipping under it to drag her fingernails lightly, painlessly across his stomach. 

Drinking from the neck is already such an intimate thing, and Anzurin so rarely allows it to happen. Only in a handful of cases in his many years as a coven leader, often in extreme cases where a vampire needed a steady flow of fresh blood immediately, in life or death situations. With Maggie, it’s pure pleasure. Simply because she asked for it, because she was so irresistible when she begged him with wide eyes the first time. 

And once he let her bite his neck the first time, it was over. That was all he needed, all she needed, to turn it into something more than feeding, something that feels good for both of them. They toed the line of mentor and fledgling earlier, but this… this crosses it, and he’s not going to be able to walk away this time. 

An involuntary sigh falls from his lips when Maggie finally takes her fangs out of him, and his head swims as she closes her lips around the wound, drinking freely from the unobstructed flow. Her grip on him tightens, nails digging deliciously into his sides, and she presses closer, tighter against him, her whines and moans echoing through his blood, singing a melody that only he can hear. 

Keeping one hand on her thigh, he twists the other into her hair, not to yank like she might fear, but only to hold her closer, to keep her mouth against his neck. He doesn’t want to hurt her. Never again. Not physically or mentally or any other way. The fury in her face was enough to deter him from that, and he’s lucky that he was able to catch up to her and bring her back inside before she was gone for good. 

He’s lucky that she’s here. On top of him, hands on his bare skin and her mouth on his neck. He’s in bliss and could lie here all day. 

What he can’t do, though, is give her every drop of his blood, and she’s already taken so much from him. 

“Alright, Maggie,” he coos, tapping her thigh. “That’s enough for now. I can’t give you much more.” 

Maggie doesn’t stop. She tightens her knees around his waist, and moves her hands to tangle into his hair, tracing his face and jawline, and he could melt under her touch. 

But she has to stop drinking from him.

He says her name again, hand fisting into her hair. 

Maggie growls, and too effortlessly, she grabs his hand and yanks it out of her hair to slam it against the mattress, and it’s then that the gravity of the situation begins to set in for Anzurin. He’s let her go too far already. He’s weakened, unable to shove her off like he should. She pins his arm too easily and shifts from straddling him to pressing her knee into his stomach. 

Fear pricks at his skin as he pleads with her, begging her to stop, but she doesn’t. Not until Anzurin feels like he’s hardly holding onto consciousness, teetering on the edge. Then, finally, she pulls back and drags the back of her hand across her mouth as she heaves a sigh. 

Anzurin is putty in her hands as she dips her thumb into his mouth, just as she did before, and wipes it on his neck, which tingles as the holes heal up. What is she doing? What’s the point in healing him after putting him on the brink of death?

His confusion only deepens when she leans back down and presses her lips to his sweetly. Even as close as he is to the brink, as frightened as he is that she’s just going to kill him, Anzurin puts energy into pursing his lips to kiss her back. The taste of his blood on her lips isn’t one he can ignore, and despite it all, he basks in the gentle warmth of her kiss. 

She caresses his face just as she did before, ghosting over the angles of his jaw and cheeks and brows. “I’ll send someone for you on my way out.” She kisses him once more and tears shine in her eyes when she pulls back. “And I’m sorry, too, Anzurin.” 

Anzurin wants to rage – not at her, but at the fact that he can’t get up and chase after her when she leaves the room. That he can’t beg her not to go. That all he can do is succumb to the dark haze that overtakes him.

~~~

Anzurin sits at his desk, his gaze bouncing around, seeing her everywhere. On the floor by the door where she laid when Velur brought her in. The sofa where she first fed from him, where he first yanked her hair and pissed her off, where she first bit his neck and gave him a taste of what could be. His desk where she perched as they looked through pictures of her life. 

Brem stands to the left, leaning back against the wall with his broad arms crossed over his chest. He’s already berated Anzurin for letting his guard down, for letting Magdalena get so close to killing him. 

There is a bit of shame sludging its way through his stomach, but not much. He doesn’t regret letting her do what she did. He just regrets that she left. She made it out of the coven, made it too far to be found by the time anyone was able to get out and look for her. Anzurin himself took to the forests around the coven, able to track her scent down the road leading towards town, but lost her somewhere along the way, and was forced to return to the coven with his metaphorical and literal tail between his legs. 

It’s been a day now, and he fears the worst. The sun has made a lap around the sky and he dreads to think that she’s already burned to a crisp under it. Only a fledgling out on her own, what if a vampire has decided to take her in? What if the people that hurt her have found her and taken her back? A lot can happen in a day, and all Anzurin has been able to do is think about the ‘what ifs’. 

When he’s not distracted by his thoughts of Magdalena and her fate, he’s looking into her past life, trying to figure out where she might go. His first point of order was to send Griffin to Velur’s to keep an eye out for her, as he doesn’t trust Velur not to kill Magdalena if she were to go there. Two other spawn were sent to search for Spencer Nevins, the human ex-boyfriend that she insisted has black, devilspawn eyes. 

As for Anzurin himself, he’s compiling a list of addresses: her home, her parents’ home, her place of work, her friends’ residences. Anywhere she might go, he’s going to check. Temporarily leaving his coven in Isaiah’s capable hands, Anzurin plans to take Brem with him to search for Magdalena, an idea that Brem is very much against and he isn’t afraid to voice it. 

Even when Anzurin keeps telling him to shut his mouth. 

And Anzurin is close to losing his temper when Brem stupidly says, “Velur was probably right, you know. She’s not worth the trouble she’s caused.” 

He glares at Brem, hating that he’d even suggest such a thing, that he thinks that way. Killing Magdalena is not the answer to dealing with her, and it never will be. Even when he finds her - because he will - he has no intention to punish her in any way for what she did to him. He understands. 

He hurt her, and he wasn’t going to just let her walk away from the coven; she knew that, so she did what she had to to leave. She didn’t kill him when she could have. She could have just drained him and left him there to rot until his body was found, but she stopped before she killed him, and then as she left, she told the door guard to check on him. 

Maggie could have killed him, but she chose to let him live. Maybe it was her way of returning the favor since he refused to kill her, or maybe she just really didn't want him dead despite threatening it. It doesn’t matter, either way. She spared him. She saved him. He’s only still breathing because she allowed it. 

Never before has Anzurin been at someone’s mercy like that. He’s always been the stronger one, the one in charge, the leader. No one else has ever held his life in their hands like she has, and truthfully, knowing it’s a horrible judgment call on his part, he’d trust her with it again. 

For someone with as much hatred for devilspawn as she has, for a creature so vicious and bloodthirsty, it means a lot that she spared his life. It gives him a glimmer of hope for her, that she’s not the lost cause everyone else seems to think she is. 

Brem didn’t see how gentle she was with him, how she caressed him so lovingly and made sure that she didn’t hurt him. He didn’t see her eyes when she apologized. All Brem knows is the violent fledgling; he doesn’t see her potential for vulnerability. Intimacy. 

Anzurin has to find her. He has to get her back. 

He folds up the list of addresses and grabs the photo of her, the one of her in the sun that she’d drawn fangs onto, and tucks it all safely into his pocket as he stands from his seat. “We’re going, Brem. We’re finding her.” He walks right up to Brem to tower over him and point a finger in his face, “And we bring her back unharmed. Understood?” 

Brem nods, a bit reluctant it seems, but if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll listen. 

~~~

this chapter is one of if not my favorite chapter of the first book, so I hope you enjoyed it!! (you should let me know if you did :D)

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