* BONDS OF PASSION ( Stray Kids )

────* ˚ ✦ BONDS OF PASSION ( stray kids )

❛ In a night of profound emotional connection and intimacy, you and Minho explore your bond through the intricate art of shibari, culminating in a tender embrace that deepens your love and gratitude.

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.2k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 28 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ I'm always saying this, but I really love shibari; it's quite literally one of my favorite kinks. So, thank you to my wonderful mootie, Merin, for making the request! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, this is Y/N's first time participating in shibari, Minho has experience in shibari, intensely emotional sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving), penetration, unprotected sex (please don't do this), let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

The world outside seemed to fade away as if his bedroom had slipped into a realm of its own, where time slowed and the only reality was the two of you, kneeling on the floor. Every breath shared in the confined space felt amplified, the air thick with anticipation. The weight of your bare bodies pressed against the cool wooden floor, facing each other in a vulnerable dance of gazes that held unspoken promises. His eyes, deep pools of dark intensity, locked onto yours with a fervor you had never witnessed before. Minho's gaze bore into you, filled with a passion so palpable it sent shivers down your spine, yet there was something more—a quiet confidence, an ease born of experience, that radiated from him like a quiet storm. It was a look that only someone who had navigated these waters before could possess.

In contrast, you could feel the uncertainty swirling within your own eyes, a reflection of the storm raging inside you. You imagined how pale your face must appear under the soft light, as your heart pounded relentlessly against your chest, each beat echoing in the stillness of the room. The silence between you both was almost deafening, broken only by the rhythmic rise and fall of your breaths. You were acutely aware that this was uncharted territory for you, a space where Minho had already traveled with ease. 

This would be the first time you would surrender so completely, relinquishing not just the control of your body but also the reins of your heart and soul. The thought of it made your pulse race even faster, a flutter of nerves and excitement tangling within you. The rope you had both chosen together, a symbol of trust and shared desire, lay between you on the floor, a silent witness to the intimacy about to unfold. As you knelt before him, you knew that tonight, you would willingly empty your mind, allowing Minho to guide you into a world where he alone dictated the pace, where his touch would define your every movement and sensation. And as the rope waited patiently, you found yourself ready to embark on this journey with him, prepared to lose yourself in the intensity of the moment.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly before Minho’s lips finally curled into a gentle, reassuring smile, a subtle yet powerful gesture that sent a cascade of tingles racing across your skin. The moment felt suspended in a delicate balance between anticipation and reality, where the space between you two was charged with an unspoken understanding. The warmth of his gaze enveloped you, pulling you into the depths of his emotions, where you could glimpse the full spectrum of his intentions, his unyielding desire, and the raw intensity of his feelings. In that gaze, you found solace, a calming balm to the storm of thoughts that had been churning within you.

The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you cocooned in this intimate bubble. Minho’s eyes spoke volumes, revealing the depth of his commitment to you, and in that moment, all remnants of doubt and anxiety began to dissipate. The air around you, thick with silent anticipation, was finally pierced by the soft melody of his voice, tender and careful as if coaxing your soul to dance with his. “Do you remember our safe word?” he asked, the question a gentle reminder of the trust that formed the foundation of what was about to unfold.

His eyes left yours momentarily, tracing the contours of your expression as if seeking any lingering traces of hesitation. You met his gaze with a timid nod, the ghost of a smile beginning to tug at your lips. “Mercy,” you whispered, the word carrying with it a promise of trust, a signal that you were still willing to journey into this new, uncharted territory with him. 

Minho’s smile widened, a reflection of the satisfaction and joy that your willingness brought him. It was a smile that held a thousand promises, a smile that reassured you of the care he would take as he led you further into this passionate exploration. In that smile, you saw not just a lover, but a guide, someone who would hold you through the most intense moments and bring you safely to the other side. And as you both prepared to step into this new chapter together, the connection between you deepened, wrapped in the shared understanding that, no matter what, you were in this together.

Minho rose to his feet, and your eyes couldn’t help but follow the fluid motion of his form, tracing the contours of his body as he moved with a quiet, unspoken elegance. Every inch of him was a masterpiece, a living testament to the beauty that lies in the harmony of strength and grace. As he made his way behind you, you allowed yourself to drink in the sight of him, this man who stood before you like a vision of divine perfection. His naked form, something you had always admired, seemed almost otherworldly in its beauty, a reflection of the statues of ancient gods that once graced the grand temples of old.

Minho’s physique was a study in contrasts, lean yet muscular, with each muscle defined in a way that spoke of both power and restraint. His body was a work of art, chiseled with the same care and precision that an ancient sculptor might have applied to marble, capturing the very essence of masculine beauty. Every movement he made was deliberate, infused with a quiet confidence that spoke of his inner strength. There was a grace in the way he carried himself, an elegance that made your knees tremble with admiration, as if you were in the presence of a god who needed no words to command the space around him.

The sharp lines of his jaw were a testament to the precision with which nature had crafted him, a strong and unwavering feature that brought to mind the angular perfection of the statues that had survived the ages. It was a defining trait, one that spoke of the strength and resolve that lay beneath the surface, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly it seemed to fit him, as if he had been carved by the hands of an ancient artisan intent on embodying the ideal of masculine beauty.

And then there were his hands, the part of him you cherished most. Those hands, both graceful and strong, were like those of a Greek statue, crafted with a care that reflected both power and delicacy. Whether they were guiding him through the fluid movements of a dance or exploring every inch of your body with a precision that drove you to the edge of insanity, his hands conveyed an artistry that was unparalleled. They spoke of his physical prowess, of his ability to channel his strength into the most delicate of touches, and in those moments, you could feel the depth of his connection to you, as if his very soul was intertwined with yours.

Lee Minho, the man who held your heart in his hands, was a raw beauty to behold, a living embodiment of the divine made flesh. His presence, his very essence, was something that captivated you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame, and as you gazed upon him, you couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of awe at the man who stood before you, a man whose soul you firmly believed was tied to yours in a bond that was as unbreakable as it was beautiful.

Your bare skin ignited with a fiery sensation the very moment Minho's warm, naked torso pressed firmly against your back. His presence was a comforting weight, his legs resting on either side of your crossed limbs, encasing you in a protective embrace. You could feel his breath, warm and gentle, fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers racing down your spine. As he reached around you, his hands moved with a deliberate tenderness, uncrossing your legs with a fluid grace that left you breathless. The moment his strong legs pinned yours beneath him, you felt an exhilarating surge of vulnerability and trust. His touch was a soothing balm, and as your skin prickled with tiny bumps in response, you surrendered yourself to his guidance, allowing him to mold your body however he wished.

A featherlight kiss brushed the nape of your neck, his plump lips barely grazing your skin, yet the sensation was enough to draw a muted gasp from your parted lips. Minho gently pulled you back, easing you into his embrace until your full weight rested against him, your back flush with his chest. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, and you found yourself biting back a moan as his warmth seeped into your very being. 

Minho had only just begun to touch you, yet already the worries that had once plagued your mind — whether large or small, old or new — began to dissolve, fading into the background as your thoughts grew quieter. With each passing second, you felt your mind and body gradually submit to the serene headspace Minho had so patiently explained to you before. He had been right; there truly was nothing that compared to the bliss of surrendering every burden, every lingering doubt, to the gentle pleasure that was slowly consuming your senses. 

Time seemed to blur as he held you close, his strong arms wrapped securely around your chest, anchoring you in the moment. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the soft rise and fall of his breathing became your world, a lullaby that lulled you deeper into tranquility. You reached up, fingers trembling slightly as you interlaced them with his, feeling the warmth and strength in his grasp. In his embrace, you found a sanctuary, a place where you could lose yourself completely, letting go of everything except the profound connection you shared with him. 

It took a moment for you to realize that Minho had begun gently rocking your bodies from side to side, his embrace warm and secure, as though he was cradling your very soul. His breath, warm against your ear, sent waves of desire coursing through you, a passion so intense it bordered on painful. His voice, soft and tender, murmured words that sent shivers down your spine. "Your pretty head is already so empty, baby," he whispered, each word laced with adoration. "You're doing so good for me already." As his lips trailed tender kisses along every inch of your exposed skin, you instinctively squeezed his fingers, your silent way of letting him know you were still present, still with him. 

Minho’s fingers tightened around yours in response, a comforting reassurance that melted any lingering doubts. "I can't thank you enough for trusting me like this," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine reverence. "It’s such an honor to share this moment with you." The delicacy of his words sent a soft whine escaping from your lips, quickly turning into a moan that echoed the vulnerability you felt in his presence. With a final, lingering kiss pressed onto your shoulder, Minho slowly unwrapped his arms from around your torso, his touch lingering like the ghost of a warm embrace. 

He shifted his position with a graceful ease, one knee sinking to the floor while the other foot remained firmly planted, his body hovering over yours like a guardian angel. His eyes, filled with a quiet intensity, never left yours as he reached for the rope that had been momentarily forgotten between you. With practiced care, he began working the rope free from its tight spiral, each loop unfurling in a fluid motion until it lay in a long, taut line behind you. 

With a few measured tugs, Minho folded the length in half, aligning the two ends with meticulous precision before letting the rope rest lazily over one of your shoulders. The looped end of the rope was held between his teeth, a playful glint in his eyes as he let the rough texture brush against your overly sensitive skin. The sensation sent your breath hitching, your heartbeat quickening in anticipation of what was to come. Every fiber of your being was attuned to him, to the way his touch promised both restraint and release, as you surrender yourself completely to the moment, to Minho.

Once the rope was positioned just right, Minho wasted no time in pressing his firm chest against your back once more. The warmth of his skin sent a comforting shiver through you, and as his body began to sway, it felt as though you were both caught in an entrancing dance. Slowly, he guided you into a series of circular motions, the gentle rhythm lulling you deeper into a shared trance. The way he moved with you was like a carefully choreographed ballet, each step measured and intentional, designed to draw out the pleasure simmering just beneath the surface.

As Minho pinned your arms beneath his own, a surge of instinct had you clutching the back of his thighs, seeking an anchor in the storm of sensations that were building between you. The heat of the moment intensified, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that washed over you with each of Minho’s expert touches. His hands, strong yet tender, guided your movements, and the synergy between your bodies grew with every slow, deliberate motion. The connection was so deep, so visceral, that you lost track of time, completely immersed in the dance of your shared intimacy.

At some point, you became aware that your legs had returned to their original x-patterned position. The realization came just as Minho’s hands, heavy with intent yet comforting in their touch, pressed against your feet. He let them linger there for a moment before slowly, sensually, dragging them up the length of your legs. His fingers caressed your inner thighs, ghosting over your aching arousal, teasing you with the promise of more. Finally, his hands found their home on your waist, and the sensation was so overwhelming that a guttural moan escaped your lips, raw and unbidden. 

Your head fell back against Minho’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering open for a brief second. Through the haze of desire, you caught sight of his gaze — an all-consuming love that pierced through the fog of your mind, grounding you in the moment. The way his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that spoke of both passion and devotion, sent a shiver down your spine. You reached out with a trembling hand to squeeze his bicep, offering a blissed-out grin in return, a silent acknowledgment of the profound connection you shared. Then, with a soft sigh, you let your eyes drift closed once more, allowing yourself to sink back into the warmth of his embrace, the intimacy of this moment enveloping you completely.

A few moments passed in this heavenly embrace, each second stretching into eternity as you basked in the warmth of Minho’s touch. The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you entwined in this intimate dance. But then, the gentle hold on your waist faded, replaced by the firm yet careful grip of Minho's hands as they moved to capture your wrists. With a tender precision, he brought them together in front of your body, the motion so fluid it felt almost like an extension of the dance you were sharing.

He held your wrists together with one hand, a possessive yet loving grasp that sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins. His free hand trailed up the length of your arm, a ghostly touch that left your skin tingling in its wake, before finding its place in your hair. His fingers wove through the strands, gripping just firmly enough to draw a moan from your lips. It wasn't painful — far from it — but the pressure was just enough to remind you of the power he held, the control he wielded over your body and senses.

The rhythmic, circular motions he had so carefully orchestrated came to an abrupt stop, leaving you breathless with anticipation. Then, with a controlled force, Minho pushed both of your bodies forward, guiding you down until your chest and stomach were pressed firmly against the ground. Your knees spread to the sides, a position that left you utterly vulnerable and exposed, and the raw, guttural moan that tore from your throat was a testament to the overwhelming arousal that flooded your senses.

As your mind struggled to catch up with this new, intoxicating position, Minho's warm body followed yours, his presence a constant, grounding force. The sensation of his naked flesh draping over your folded form sent shivers of pleasure coursing down your spine, each touch amplifying the closeness you shared. The weight of him pressed against your overly sensitive skin was both a comfort and a thrill, intensifying the already electric connection between you. It was as though every inch of your body was attuned to his, every nerve ending alive with the sensation of Minho, his touch, his breath, his very essence surrounding you, holding you captive in this moment of pure, unbridled intimacy.

Despite the rope held between his teeth, Minho managed to press a tender kiss onto your flushed cheek, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. As his lips lingered, you felt the first tentative grind of his hardened arousal against your lower back, the intimate friction igniting a new wave of sensation that rippled through your body. The slow, deliberate movement caused both of you to rock back and forth in a rhythm that was as mesmerizing as it was intoxicating, a silent dance that spoke of unspoken desires and deepening connection.

Your mouth fell open in a wordless gasp, your senses immediately drowning in the overwhelming pleasure that blossomed from this newfound contact. Each subtle shift of his hips against you sent shockwaves of arousal spiraling through your core, leaving you painfully wet and clenching around the emptiness inside, desperate for more. The need within you grew with every passing second, a relentless ache that only intensified as your body responded to his touch with soft whines and gasps, spilling from your lips without restraint.

Your eyelids crinkled in pleasure, brows knitting together as your mind struggled to keep up with the storm of sensations crashing over you. But any semblance of control was quickly lost as you felt Minho's hardened length begin to leak onto your lower back, the warmth of his arousal mingling with your own fevered skin. The combination was electrifying, a heady mix of intimacy and desire that left you trembling. 

Minho’s breathing grew strained, the steady rhythm faltering as he momentarily lost himself in his own pleasure, the sound of it like a raw, primal symphony that echoed in your ears. The very air between you crackled with the intensity of the moment, each breath, each touch, each whisper of fabric against skin drawing you deeper into the vortex of sensation that consumed you both. And as the two of you rocked together, moving in perfect unison, it felt as though nothing else existed beyond the boundaries of this shared moment, this exquisite blend of passion and connection.

However, the fleeting pleasure of Minho's grinding against your lower back was soon replaced by a new sensation as he shifted positions once again. His movements were deliberate, yet unhurried, as he slowly pulled away, the grinding coming to a hesitant halt. The rope that had been held between his teeth now trailed gently across the expanse of your back, leaving a tingling path in its wake. The sensation was enough to elicit a soft moan from your lips, a sound that only deepened when Minho's fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you back into the solid warmth of his chest. His grip was firm yet tender, sending ripples of electricity across your skin, each pulse intensifying the connection between you.

The way your body instinctively melted into each of Minho's silent commands was intoxicating, a surrender that felt both empowering and liberating. In his hands, you felt safe, cherished, and utterly consumed by the depth of your shared intimacy. There was no need to worry or overthink, as your soul-tied lover had taken control of every aspect of your pleasure, guiding you with a deftness that only heightened your arousal with every passing second. The trust between you was palpable, a silent understanding that allowed you to let go completely, to revel in the sensations that Minho was expertly crafting.

Your awareness of his actions dimmed as you lost yourself in the familiar rhythm of your bodies moving in perfect unison. The steady rocking was a dance of pure sensation, each movement a testament to the deep connection you shared. It wasn't long before you felt Minho's hand release its hold on your hair, and your dazed eyes fluttered open, curiosity piqued by the change in his touch. His free hand joined the other, which had been holding both of your wrists, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as the rope glided smoothly over your skin, its texture a reminder of the gentle power Minho wielded over you.

With slow, deliberate movements, Minho began to wrap the rope around your wrists, his expert hands tying the first knot with a precision that was both arousing and reassuring. The pressure of the rope was firm, enough to make you feel bound, yet not tight enough to cause discomfort. It was a tender introduction, a prelude to what was to come, and the anticipation of it sent a thrill through your body. The way Minho's hands moved with such care and intention made it clear that this was only the beginning, and the thought of what lay ahead left you breathless, your heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of your shared desire.

Your breath catches as Minho's teeth graze your earlobe, a playful nip that sends a shiver down your spine. He'd just secured the first knot around your wrists, tugging lightly to ensure it held firm. The binding was precise, a testament to his careful attention. "How are we feeling, my love?" he murmured, his voice softer than a whisper, as though the very air around you would break if he spoke too loudly. Even through the fog of your bliss, you managed a silent nod, your senses dulled yet heightened by the intimacy of the moment. Minho's quiet chuckle warmed your heart, its gentle timbre resonating deep within you.

Releasing his grip on your wrists, Minho didn't pause in the rhythmic sway of your bodies. His hands moved with purpose, trailing up and down your arms in a tender effort to ground you in the here and now. The sensation was electric, a soothing contrast to the growing intensity between you. "Use your words for me," he coaxed, his tone a mix of gentle insistence and deep affection. "I need to know you're here with me." The sheer tenderness in his voice drew a whimper from your lips, the weight of your love for him pressing heavily on your chest.

As his chin came to rest softly on your shoulder, you tilted your head just enough to meet his gaze. His expression was one of pure serenity, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you. The sight of him, so calm and full of love, made your heart swell, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of crimson. With a small, almost shy smile, you whispered, "I'm here. I'm with you." The words were meant for him alone, a quiet reassurance that you were still present, still grounded in this moment with him.

Minho's smile widened at your response, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was brief. "Are you comfortable?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, any hint that you were anything less than utterly content. But all he found was the evidence of your mind blissfully clouded, your expression soft and open. You managed another nod, followed by a whispered "yes," the word barely more than a breath. He hummed in satisfaction, pressing a kiss to your temple before his hand moved to rest against your throat.

The shift in his touch brought a new intensity to the moment, his wrist firm against your throat as he quickened the pace of your shared rhythm. The atmosphere in the room thickened, the air heavy with the weight of your connection. "My love," he murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your sensitive skin, sending another shiver through you. "From this point forward, I will be picking up the pace. Just keep in mind that I adore you completely, so if you need me to stop, all you have to do is use the safe word, and I will do as asked. Please nod your head if you understand this, baby. I need you to stay here with me."

The gentle pleading in his voice tugged at your heart, and you felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. His concern, his care, it all spoke to the depth of his feelings for you. With a soft yet firm resolve, you met his gaze, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that mirrored his own. Slowly, you nodded, the movement small but full of assurance.

Minho's eyes softened further, the relief evident as he leaned in to capture your lips once more in a kiss that was both tender and full of promise. This moment, this connection between you, was more than just physical—it was a profound expression of the love and trust you shared. As the kiss deepened, the rhythm of your bodies followed suit, each movement syncing perfectly with the other, a dance of intimacy that enveloped you both.

Minho presses another gentle kiss to your temple, a soft, unspoken acknowledgment of your consent. The delicate touch of his lips sends a soothing warmth through you, a silent promise of care and affection. Using the wrist he had previously rested against your neck, he gently guides your head back to rest on his shoulder, his touch both tender and commanding. At the same time, he lifts your wrists slightly by the ropes binding them, a subtle shift that draws you closer to him.

As your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the intensity of the moment, you feel yourself being enveloped by the sensations surrounding you. Minho's movements become a rhythm you can't help but follow, his hips coaxing you to roll your own in an erotic dance reminiscent of the way you move when seated on his lap. The heat of his skin meets the tender, restrained touch of your tied hands, and you instinctively let your fingers brush against his cheek, a soft caress that makes his breath hitch—a delightful response to your affectionate gesture amidst the consuming passion.

You begin to roll your hips in sync with Minho’s guiding movements, the rhythm now an unspoken dance between you. Shifting your head, you nestle your face into the curve of his neck, the closeness a balm to your senses. With swift, practiced motions, Minho directs your bound hands to move in a semi-circle in front of you, a motion that feels like a step in a choreographed routine. The pace of your bodies swaying together grows more urgent and intense, your breaths becoming sharp, matching Minho's as the anticipation of the moment electrifies every nerve in your body. 

As soon as your tied hands completed their arc from one side to the other, Minho eased back, allowing your pliant body to drape across his strong thigh. The soft, powerful support of his leg cradled you, and you surrendered completely to the enveloping tranquility that your mind floated upon. With your eyes still closed, you surrendered to the all-encompassing serenity that seemed to cocoon you.

Once you were settled on his thigh, Minho used his other leg to gently spread your knees further apart. A soft moan, which quickly morphed into a whine, escaped your lips as his firm hand pressed against your chest and traveled slowly down to cup your drenched arousal. But just as quickly, he withdrew, leaving you in a state of aching anticipation.

Minho shifted his body slightly, pulling you closer with the rope that bound your wrists. A hand guided your head forward, and you reluctantly opened your eyes to meet his intense gaze. His eyes, soft yet laden with a dark anticipation, locked onto yours as he resumed the sensual, circular rocking of your bodies. The tender yet unyielding rhythm of his movements sent shivers down your spine, and you felt a thrill at the shift in his gaze, a potent blend of tenderness and longing.

Leaning forward, Minho pushed you backward until your head nearly touched the ground, his lips parting in a teasing promise. Instinctively, you parted your own lips, expecting a kiss, but instead, he breathed into your mouth, the warm, intoxicating air a seductive caress as his eyes remained locked on yours. Just as abruptly, he pulled away, pressing you back firmly against his chest, leaving both of you breathless. 

Your cheeks pressed together, and a thrilling shiver raced up your spine as you watched Minho pull the rope tighter, binding your wrists securely against your chest. The sensation of the rope against your skin, combined with the proximity of his body and the intensity of his gaze, created a heady, intoxicating blend of pleasure and anticipation that left you utterly enraptured.

As the session deepens, Minho maintains a steady rhythm, swaying your bodies together in perfect harmony. His skilled hands move with deliberate grace, meticulously tying the rope to ensure your hands remain securely pressed against your chest. The rope's embrace is both encompassing and protective, each knot and loop placed with exquisite care. Minho pauses occasionally, his eyes soft yet attentive, as if silently checking in on you.

The rope winds its way around your shoulders, torso, and then descends to your thighs, hips, and legs. Each pass of the rope feels grounding and intense, its firm grip holding your legs apart to reveal your glistening core. The tightening sensation of the rope, combined with Minho’s unwavering presence, envelops you in a profound sense of vulnerability and trust. As Minho finishes the intricate tying, the final knot meticulously placed, you become aware of the intensity of the emotions coursing through you. A few tears have traced paths down your cheeks, each one tenderly kissed away by Minho.

With a gentle sigh, Minho allows you to rest on the ground, still bound but comforted. He kneels beside you, his eyes sparkling with admiration as he interlocks his fingers with one of yours. His gaze is filled with a tender appreciation for the intricate work he has completed. Leaning in, he presses a soft, loving kiss to your lips, his free hand caressing your hair with affectionate strokes. Despite the bonds that encircle you, there’s an astonishing sense of relaxation that washes over your body, a profound feeling of safety you’ve never experienced before.

The realization of how deeply safe and cherished you feel brings fresh tears to your eyes. Minho coos softly, his voice a gentle balm to your soul, as he kisses away each tear with a tenderness that rekindles your love for him. This renewed affection is even more intense and consuming than before. In a moment of pure connection, you turn your head to capture his lips in a kiss filled with tender passion, a testament to the profound bond you share.

What began as a tender kiss soon transformed into an urgent expression of unrestrained desire. Each touch of your lips against Minho’s was imbued with growing desperation, your moans escaping into the intoxicating dance of your shared kiss. His breath, once controlled, now came in ragged gasps, a stark testament to the fervor that had taken hold. As your previously clouded thoughts cleared, all that remained was an all-consuming craving for his body.

Though your hands were bound tightly against your chest, your fingertips clawed into his chiseled torso, digging in as though to silently convey your deep-seated needs. Minho’s groans were a symphony of pleasure, his brows knitting together as he relished the sting of your touch. The closeness between you was so profound that it blurred the lines of where one of you began and the other ended. This intoxicating proximity had you pressing your hips fervently against his, the ropes he had so meticulously wrapped around your hips digging into both of your heated skins, enhancing the fervor of the moment.

You luxuriated in the way his hands roamed over your bound body, pausing to explore the ropes before continuing their journey. Minho’s movements were deliberate, a testament to his careful attention to your every reaction. He eventually positioned himself between your tied knees, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that made you shiver with anticipation. His gaze lingered, taking in the sight of your flushed, sweat-drenched skin and the rhythm of your chest rising and falling as you panted.

A moan, almost drunken in its intensity, escaped Minho’s lips as his eyes fell upon your achingly drenched arousal. “God, you’re already so deliciously wet for me,” he murmured softly, his voice thick with admiration. You responded with a desperate whine, arching your hips upwards in a silent plea for him to meet your needs. His eyes softened at your response, and he leaned in to place a brief, affectionate kiss on your lips before trailing his mouth downward. His kisses, messy and fervent, left a heated trail along your skin, heightening the intensity of the moment as he continued to explore.

You writhed beneath his touch, your mouth parting as a continuous stream of moans and gasps spilled forth. Every sensation was magnified by the ropes binding your body, which restricted your movements and made it challenging to maintain eye contact with him. When his breath, warm and tantalizing, brushed against your throbbing core, a cry of delight escaped your lips. 

"Min, please," you whispered, your first unprompted plea since this passionate encounter began. The sound of your desperate request drew Minho's gaze upward, his eyes now burning with an even more insatiable hunger. "Please, baby," you continued to beg, your voice faltering as you struggled to articulate the depth of your need. "I need you, please, I really need—"

Your words were abruptly cut off by a loud, guttural moan that tore from your throat as Minho's exquisite lips finally made contact with your sensitive clit. The sensation of his lips enveloping and gently sucking, exactly as you had longed for, was electrifying. His touch was slow and deliberate, his movements methodical, each caress sending waves of unparalleled pleasure crashing over you. 

Minho's tongue danced along the edges of your core, and you bucked your hips into his face, seeking more of the intoxicating sensation. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped your tied hands, a desperate attempt to ground yourself amidst the overwhelming pleasure. When his fingers finally entered the warmth of your aching arousal, your eyes fluttered back, a primal moan escaping you as another wave of ecstasy surged through your body.

In the past, you might have confidently declared that Minho was an exceptional lover, but the present moment redefined your understanding of his skill. His fingers moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, a pace that was both torturous and exquisite, plunging in and out of you with an intensity that left you breathless. The sensation was so overwhelmingly blissful that it eclipsed any previous experience, tightening your lower abdomen with a fervor you had never known.

Minho’s gaze was a palpable force, watching you intently as you arched your back in response to his relentless exploration of that sensitive, perfect spot inside you. His free hand pressed firmly against your abdomen, enhancing the pressure and making each thrust of his fingers feel even more profound. Meanwhile, his mouth returned to your pulsing clit, lavishing it with tender, expert attention.

The building pressure in your abdomen reached a crescendo, and you were overwhelmed by a powerful wave of pleasure that swept through your convulsing body. Minho's voice reached you as though from a great distance, his words muffled and indistinct amidst the roaring storm of your climax. Your focus remained solely on the rhythmic motion of his fingers, which continued to move deliberately in and out of you, guiding you through the final throes of your release.

As the waves of pleasure began to recede, Minho withdrew his fingers, and you watched with a mixture of awe and lingering desire as he brought them to his mouth. He cleaned your arousal with a slow, savoring sweep of his tongue, his eyes never leaving you as he did so. The sight of him tasting you, coupled with the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips, left you breathless and yearning for more.

As your breathing gradually evened out, Minho’s form loomed over you, his presence both commanding and tender. He crawled with a deliberate slowness, the heat of his hardened length brushing against your stomach with each movement. Supporting himself on his forearms, which framed either side of your head, and balancing on his knees that bracketed your hips, he created an intimate cocoon of sensation and anticipation.

Minho’s eyes sparkled with a gleeful satisfaction as he gazed down at you, a radiant smile lighting up his face. The sight of him made your cheeks flush with a warm, bashful hue, and you responded to his smile with one of your own, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his gaze. Yet, each time his aching, hardened core brushed against your skin, a hitch in his breath made it clear that the night’s pleasures were far from over. The renewed flutter of arousal in your own still-sensitive core sent a thrilling shiver through you.

“You were mesmerizing just now,” Minho murmured, his voice a soft whisper meant solely for your ears. The intimacy of his words deepened the blush on your cheeks, and rather than voicing a response, you pressed your lips to his in a fervent kiss. It was a silent plea for more, a desperate declaration of your lingering need for him. The intensity of your kiss drove Minho to groan deeply, his hips settling onto your pelvis. You felt the undeniable heat of his hardness and the telltale slickness that marked his need.

The contact elicited a shared moan from both of you, and you instinctively arched your hips upwards, meeting his body with an eager urgency. Minho shifted his weight to one arm, his free hand gently cradling your jaw as he pulled away just enough to meet your eyes. His gaze held a silent question, one that was answered by your breathless plea. “Please, Min, I’ve never felt so good,” you panted, “I want to have all of you, please.”

His eyes softened with understanding, and he leaned in to capture your lips once more. The hand that had held your jaw now descended, wrapping around his aching arousal. He groaned deeply at the touch, momentarily pausing to steady himself before he began to pump his length, spreading his own wetness and heightening his anticipation. When he finally pressed the tip of his length against your core, the breath between you both became a held moment of shared expectation.

With a careful, measured thrust, Minho sheathed himself fully inside you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as his tip found that sensitive spot with a precise, overwhelming pressure. Your back arched instinctively, seeking deeper connection. Minho’s forehead pressed against yours, his face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and intensity. His groans vibrated through you as he surrendered to the enveloping warmth of your pulsing tightness, the sensation of being within you driving him to the edge of his control.

Though Minho was often the type to drive you to the edge with relentless, vigorous thrusts that had you chanting his name like a sacred mantra, tonight was a different kind of exploration—one that delved deeply into the emotional connection you shared. This evening was about savoring the intimacy and connection between you.

The ropes that Minho had meticulously bound around your body pressed gently against your skin, creating a delicious tension that made your blood hum with heightened sensation. Each touch of the rope intensified the bliss that flowed through you, amplifying the pleasure you felt with every slow, deliberate motion of Minho’s hips. He would draw back just enough to tease, then push back into you with a depth that elicited soft, breathy moans from your lips.

Minho, too, was caught in the throes of this more tender passion. His eyes struggled to remain open as the pleasure overtook him, pulling him deeper into the shared experience. When you felt the telltale twitch of his length inside you, it was clear that he was nearing his peak. Determined to enhance the moment, you began to move your hips in time with his, each motion guided by the need to match his rhythm. Your moans grew louder as your sensitive clit grazed against his pelvis, driving both of you toward the precipice.

As Minho’s thrusts became more erratic and fevered, his control slipping as he chased his climax, the intensity between you both surged. Finally, with a thrust that struck your sensitive spot with a forceful precision, you both were pulled into an intimate, breathless crescendo. In that climactic moment, you pressed together, bodies entwined, as you both reached the peak of your pleasure simultaneously.

As the intensity of your shared passion began to wane, minutes slipped by in a languid haze. Your breath gradually settled, finding its rhythm once more, while Minho tenderly withdrew his softened length from your still-throbbing core. The room was infused with a soft glow, and you admired the way Minho’s skin gleamed with a sheen of sweat, a testament to the fervor of your union. You scarcely registered the sweet, murmured praises he offered as he meticulously began to untie the ropes that had bound you so intimately.

Your mind was still enveloped in the intoxicating fog of your shared ecstasy, yet every fiber of your being was alight with a blazing warmth that spoke of deep affection. “I love you, Min,” you breathed out, gently interrupting his gentle murmurings. His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, and his eyes softened with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. The unspoken emotion between you was palpable, and you continued, “Thank you for taking care of me. You have no idea how much I love you.”

As Minho unfastened the final knot securing your wrists, you did not hesitate. You drew him closer, enveloping him in a wordless embrace that conveyed a depth of emotion words could not capture. The silence of the moment spoke volumes, a shared connection that transcended language, as you both held each other tightly, savoring the quiet after the storm of your passion.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @jisunglyricist @nxtt2-u @nebugalaxy

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

Thank you so much 😭💕 I was lowkey running out of ideas by the time I got to Riki, so I’m actually happy it came out pretty decent 🙂‍↕️

──★ 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( enhypen )

❛ In which you’re the idol who somehow snatched the members of Enhypen’s heart at first sight.

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 8.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! All of the members are found below the cut! Enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Love at first sight trope, Idol Y/N AU, inconsistent POV, whether Y/N is a solo artist or a member of a group varies from member to member, lots of mentions of being stressed with work, Y/N in Jake’s piece has some negative opinions on the HYBE company (which doesn’t reflect my own personal opinions), Y/N and Sunghoon are drunk together but it’s all pretty mild, meet-cutes for all members except for Jake — his is more of a one-sided enemies-to-lovers trope, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG.

An exhausted sigh brushed past Heeseung's lips as he trudged into the empty elevator of his company building. With his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, he leaned heavily against the cold, metallic railing at the back of the enclosed space. The hum of the elevator's ascent seemed to echo his own weary thoughts, a turbulent mix of pride and anxiety swirling in his mind. Images of the countless posters featuring his face, alongside those of his members, plastered all over town flashed before his eyes. Despite the pride he felt in the fanbase Enhypen had garnered since their debut, a gnawing fear tugged at his heart — a fear that after all the sacrifices made for this new comeback, it might still fall short of expectations.

Lost in his own tumultuous sea of thoughts, Heeseung was jolted back to reality by the sudden chime of the elevator, signaling its stop. The sound snapped him from his reverie, and as the doors opened, he stumbled out onto the wrong floor, colliding gently with someone exiting the opposite way. His face flushed with embarrassment as he muttered a hasty apology, realizing he had disembarked prematurely. Flustered, he shoved his arm between the closing doors to force them open again, avoiding eye contact with the stranger who had witnessed his blunder. The mortification deepened as he heard the soft, amused chuckle from the person he’d bumped into.

In the brief moment of awkward silence that followed, your melodic voice broke through, catching Heeseung’s attention. “Aren’t you one of the members of Enhypen? Heeseung, right?”

His gaze, which had been fixed on the floor in embarrassment, hesitantly lifted to meet your bright eyes. The connection felt electric, as if a spotlight had suddenly focused on you, illuminating the exquisite details of your face. Heeseung was struck by an overwhelming sense of awe, his heart racing as he tried to gather his thoughts. Unfortunately, his voice seemed to have abandoned him completely, leaving him with no words other than a timid nod.

The smile that graced your lips was like a burst of sunshine, sending Heeseung’s heart into a whirl. Your eyes sparkled with genuine excitement, and he could almost feel the warmth of your enthusiasm radiating towards him. It was a small yet endearing display of your excitement that tugged at his heartstrings.

“I honestly can’t believe I’m meeting you,” you said, your voice bubbling with unfiltered joy. “I’ve already listened to every song on your new album, Romance: Untold, and it’s truly amazing. My favorite is definitely ‘Moonstruck’ — I’ve had it on repeat so much that it might be considered a bit of an obsession.”

Heeseung managed to curl the corners of his lips into a shy grin, chuckling softly at the sight of your unrestrained praise. Though his mind was still blank and his ability to articulate a response seemed impaired, the sight of you raving about his work was heartening. You didn’t seem to mind, as you turned your attention back to the slowly descending elevator, which gave Heeseung a clear view of your slightly flushed cheeks.

Suddenly, a realization seemed to hit you, causing your eyes to widen in a mixture of panic and embarrassment. “Oh no, I hope you don’t think I’m just a weird fan who snuck in here! I’m actually one of the members of a new group that debuted a few months ago. I’m the eldest member, actually. Um, I’m Y/N.” Your once bold and outgoing demeanor gave way to a nervous, stammering apology as you quickly rattled off your introduction. Heeseung couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the sight of your flustered state easing his own tension.

As if sensing your discomfort, the elevator doors slid open with a familiar chime, allowing you to bow hurriedly before slipping out of the confined space. Heeseung, feeling a sudden surge of determination, followed you into the lobby. His hand reached out, gently grabbing your wrist and bringing you to a stop. The startled look on your face, accompanied by your crimson cheeks, made Heeseung’s heart race. The way your eyes gleamed with curiosity and surprise left him breathless, and he felt a rush of courage to keep you from walking away.

“I – I really appreciate you enjoying our album,” he blurted out, his voice trembling slightly. His eyes darted around, searching for the right words to extend the fleeting moment. “I’ll admit that I haven’t heard your music yet, but... um, if you’re free now, maybe we could grab a coffee? I’d love to hear more about your group and listen to your stuff.”

The transformation in your expression was instantaneous. The soft gasp that escaped your lips, combined with your shy nod of agreement, filled Heeseung with an exhilarating sense of relief and excitement. If the thread of his life had been cut at that moment, he would have died the happiest man on earth. Your smile, so bright and genuine, breathed new life into his day, turning a simple encounter into something extraordinary.

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG.

As the award show neared its conclusion, the atmosphere of genuine enjoyment gradually gave way to a palpable restlessness. Idols, exhausted from hours of watching performances and listening to repetitive acceptance speeches, were eager to leave.

Jay, seated among the sea of idols, found himself particularly conscious of the numerous cameras stationed around the venue. Each lens seemed to capture his every movement, broadcasting it to the fans watching from the comfort of their homes. Normally, he was accustomed to this constant scrutiny, but tonight felt different. The hours seemed to stretch interminably, and he watched as a parade of performers and winners he barely recognized took the stage.

His body ached from the relentless dance and vocal rehearsals leading up to their next comeback, the dull pain in his muscles a constant reminder of his exhaustion. Despite his best efforts to maintain a stoic expression for the sake of Engenes, Jay felt the strain, his neck twinging painfully with every attempt to relieve it.

The host, a familiar figure in a sharp suit, made his way to the center of the stage for the final time. Adjusting his tie with a practiced charm, he flashed a bright grin that could be seen even from the back rows. Jay barely registered the words as the emcee began his closing speech, his mind focused on the discomfort in his neck.

“What a night, what a night,” the host began, his voice tinged with rehearsed sentiment. “I can comfortably say that this will be an unforgettable evening for many — myself included.”

He paused, glancing around the audience with a knowing smile. “I know I’m supposed to end the night with a heartfelt speech, but we have one final surprise that I’m sure you’ll all enjoy — a special performance.”

Confusion rippled through the audience as murmurs filled the room. Jay furrowed his brows, intrigued yet weary.

“As you all know, there is a nationally beloved solo artist who has been on hiatus for seven months.” The anticipation in the room grew palpable. “Yes, you know exactly who I’m talking about! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back our one and only — Y/N!”

The moment you stepped onto the stage, the audience erupted in applause and cheers. Your emotional grin barely concealed the tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming support. For Jay, the world seemed to collapse in on itself, leaving only the ethereal vision of you. The simple act of walking and smiling was enough to leave him breathless.

As you took your place at the center of the stage, the music began, and the cheers gradually quieted. Every discomfort Jay had felt moments ago vanished as he watched you raise the microphone to your lips, your eyes turning into crescent moons with your unwavering smile.

Your voice was enchanting, filling every corner of the stadium and striking the hearts of everyone present with its raw emotion. Jay was no exception. He was captivated by the intensity and beauty of your performance, feeling every note resonate deeply within him. As the final gentle notes faded, tears you had held back began to roll down your cheeks, ruining your makeup but enhancing your vulnerability.

The audience's applause was deafening, a testament to their love and admiration. Despite the chaos, your heart swelled with gratitude at the sight of so many people celebrating your return.

The award show faded into a distant memory as you found yourself surrounded by people offering heartfelt praise and excitement. Your cheeks ached from smiling, but the bliss of the moment was worth every second. Faces blurred together as you moved from one conversation to the next, each interaction a reminder of how much you were loved and missed.

Throughout it all, Jay watched you from a distance, his group members having long since left. He desperately wanted to approach you but felt intimidated by the constant stream of admirers. Eventually, he resigned himself to the idea that he might not get the chance to express how profoundly your performance had affected him. With a heavy heart, he signaled to his bodyguard that he was ready to leave.

Outside the stadium, the noise of the city offered a reprieve from the weight of his celebrity persona. Jay enjoyed the simple act of watching cars pass by, lost in thought. He didn’t notice you until you sighed contentedly and took the empty spot beside him.

“Pretty night,” you said softly, your voice tender and soothing. Jay turned to you, stunned into silence by your presence. The fluttering in his stomach intensified.

In an effort to compose himself, he looked back at the road. “You must be tired,” he said, trying to sound casual. “After so long away from the spotlight, I mean.”

You giggled, a sound that squeezed his heart. “Blissfully drained.”

Jay chuckled, stealing a quick glance at you before returning his gaze forward. The comfortable silence between you was enough, each moment charged with unspoken emotions.

“You know,” you began, “I watched your performance from the dressing room. I really enjoyed it.”

The blush that crept up Jay’s ears was immediate, followed by a shy smile. Your compliment left him feeling both flustered and elated. You turned away slightly, your own cheeks flushed.

Before Jay could respond, a black Cadillac pulled up in front of him, signaling it was time to leave. Panic set in as he realized he hadn’t said everything he wanted to. You, however, seemed unfazed, your confident smirk never wavering.

“May our paths cross once more,” you said with a warm smile, taking a step back and waving.

Jay watched you disappear into the night, your words echoing in his mind. He hoped fervently that this wouldn't be the last time he saw you.

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN.

Amidst the cacophony of angry voices clashing like a storm, your blood boiled at the pure entitlement of the people standing before you. You'd barely managed to set your bag down on the leather couch of the recording studio you had waited weeks to finally use when the door burst open, revealing the breathless mess of a manager responsible for some boy group you couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge. He claimed that there had been an error in the schedule for the room, that it was supposedly meant to be occupied by his group—never mind the fact that your name had been very clearly stated in the timesheet for weeks.

The sour taste on your tongue intensified as soon as you noticed a group of six boys hesitantly approaching the tense situation, led by a younger-looking boy with almost cartoonishly big doe eyes. His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher the not-so-clean words being exchanged between both teams. Letting your own manager handle the mess, you remained seated on the couch with your arms folded over your chest, hoping you'd be compensated for the reserved time you'd lost to this fiasco, though you were almost certain you wouldn't be.

Somehow maneuvering themselves around the strife, the newcomers entered the recording room, only to awkwardly stand before you as if expecting you to explain the situation. Despite your clear distaste, you let your hands fall limply onto your lap with a frustrated sigh.

"I reserved this room for today weeks ago," you said, the acidity in your tone unmistakable. None of the boys seemed too bothered by it as they continued to watch you intently. "Your manager, however, decided it would be a good idea to waste everyone's time by claiming there must have been some kind of oversight since apparently he also reserved this exact time for you guys."

"Uh, I think there might have really been a misunderstanding since we were also set to record here," Doe-Eyes responded quickly, glancing back towards his manager anxiously as if unsure of his own words. You couldn't help but scoff and roll your eyes.

Pulling your phone out of your back pocket, you didn't try to hide the incredulous shake of your head. Once you found the confirmation email you’d received upon booking the studio, you turned your screen so that all six boys could read. “Unless you also have an email similar to this— which, by the way, your manager has failed to show us instead of calling his boss—then I don’t think there’s really any room to call this a ‘misunderstanding’.”

Almost immediately, Doe-Eyes pulled his own phone out of the pocket of his hoodie, hurriedly scrolling through it while taking a seat a little further down the same couch you'd been glued to for the past twenty minutes. The rest of the members didn’t seem to have anything else to say as they either pursed their lips awkwardly or whispered amongst themselves, their furrowed brows signaling their own concerns about what it would mean for them if you were to keep the studio. And although you were confident that you and your team had done everything right, you were barely able to suppress your own fear of being left high and dry. It wasn’t uncommon for solo artists such as yourself to have no other alternative than to fight tooth and nail for fair treatment in an industry with a clear preference for boy groups like the ones present at the moment—and the company you were currently working for was really no different, as evidenced by the infuriating stories shared by the painfully sparse number of solo artists you’d met in this very building.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Doe-Eyes whipped his head around as though looking for someone. “Where’s Jake?”

The other members uselessly copied their friend’s action, shrugging silently. “I think he was talking with his mom on the phone when we left, but he said he wouldn’t be too long.”

Almost as if the act of voicing his name could summon him, a very disheveled seventh boy skidded to a halt behind the ongoing commotion taking place right outside the studio. His eyes widened in bewilderment as he processed the admittedly rare scene unfolding before him. His attention quickly shifted to the group of idols crowding the already confined space as one of the members waved at him to join them, a silent command that didn’t need to be repeated as he squeezed his way inside. Once he made it past the door, he hunched over breathlessly, a string of gibberish pouring out of his mouth as he tried to explain his tardiness—not a single word of it being even remotely comprehensible to you.

Ultimately, the boy’s excuses didn’t matter as everyone’s attention was drawn to the familiar authoritative figure who finally made his appearance (as requested by the boys’ manager) to solve the ridiculous dilemma, the typical severe expression etched onto his face. You tried to brush aside your rising anxiety to no avail, your leg subconsciously bouncing up and down.

While your mind raced with worst-case scenarios, Jake—the boy who’d just arrived—found himself stilled by the mere sight of you. Encircled by a heavenly bubble that seemed to drown out his surroundings, he found himself captivated by the worry tainting what he was positive would otherwise be the most heart-mangling pair of eyes he’d ever seen. Even with your entire essence emanating a mixture of irritation and anxiety, Jake was sure his eyes would never find anything or anyone that could compare to the profoundness of your beauty. He almost questioned if you were real, or if he had lost his sanity to a sweet hallucination, though he quickly pushed the idea out of his mind for fear of losing sight of you.

“Hi.” It was all that Jake could muster, hoping his heart wouldn’t suddenly stop when your weary eyes landed on him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

Several conflicting emotions passed through your face as you tried to make sense of the unexpected contrast between the serious situation and his dazed expression. In the end, all you could do was scoff nastily at his lack of ability to read the room, a reaction that still made Jake feel as though he could levitate since your simple acknowledgment of his existence was enough for him to obsess over for the rest of his lifetime.

The sight of the newcomer was almost ridiculous as you shifted in your seat almost uncomfortably, unable to understand what could possibly be going through his mind.

“Okay, let’s do this.” The authoritarian voice of your superior was enough to drag your attention away from the oddity of this boy. “Since Enhypen’s comeback is set at a sooner date, I suggest Y/N allow them to use the room first. I’ll be sure to postpone the reservations of the people meant to come here today or tomorrow. That is my final say on the matter.”

He raised his hand in a stern manner the moment he noticed you quickly jumping to your feet to argue, immediately shutting you up as your lips curled into a disgruntled snarl. Even though a part of you had predicted this outcome, you still couldn’t believe it as your eyes found the familiar pair belonging to your exhausted manager.

Since it was clear that you and your team had no other option but to pack up what little had been set up before this whole fiasco began, you begrudgingly snatched your bag to sling over your shoulder—though not before scowling in the boys’ direction, causing them to wince back. Except for Jake, who annoyingly remained in his spot, smiling stupidly at you.

Hours after being kicked out of your own appointment, you found yourself sitting alone under the shade of a large tree at a nearby park. Bitterness still possessed your heart despite coming here to calm yourself in the comforting alternative universe that only seemed to exist in this very spot, usually waiting for your return whenever life took a rough turn. Every other time, the gentle kisses of the wind against your skin, the delicious warmth that dwelled just under the surface of the ground, or the simple serenity that washed over your troubled mind as you listened to the natural melody of small animals and children playing would immediately comfort you. However, your little piece of paradise did not spare any mercy for you today. The chilly wind nipped at your reddened cheeks and nose, the ground beneath you was still moist from the light rain of the previous day, and all you could hear were the exhaustive sounds of distant traffic and the robotic voices of business people on their phones. Your little piece of paradise, your alternative universe hidden in plain sight, had become distressingly bleak.

You were just about to abandon your spot, the disappointment becoming overwhelming to the point of blurring your vision with unshed tears, when the sound of cautious footsteps from behind alerted you. Breath catching in your throat at the thought of what could possibly happen, you hoped whoever was approaching would just walk past and prove you to be foolishly paranoid.

“You hide well, Y/N.”

The sinister words unmistakably belonging to a man hung in the air, making you consider breaking into a run—or perhaps attempting to kick him in the knees to temporarily incapacitate him and give you more time to escape. A million thoughts stormed through your head as your heartbeat picked up.

“I’m sorry about what happened with the studio.” The specificity of the man’s apology made you pause. You noted that he had stopped moving, evidently standing just a foot or two away from you. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. “After you and your team left, I was finally told what went down, and I felt guilty. Obviously, you have every right to be upset considering your name was the only one that appeared to be scheduled.”

Only a moment passed before the owner of the mysterious voice stood before you, sporting a shy smile while holding a brown paper bag close to his chest. It was the boy who had arrived late to the recording session, the one with the dazed look in his eyes — the same one still present as he looked down at your sitting figure. His presence reignited the smoldering anger you’d managed to suppress over the past few hours. You didn't bother holding back the immediate glare directed at him, a glare that would have made anyone else shrink back. But he seemed unfazed, his smile only growing into a full, boyish grin that vaguely reminded you of a Golden Retriever, with an infectious warmth that was hard to ignore.

He stood there, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the bag crinkling slightly in his grip. His tousled hair caught the last rays of the setting sun, creating a halo effect around his head that softened his features. Despite your irritation, you couldn't help but notice the genuine innocence in his eyes, as if he truly had no intention of causing any harm — deep down, you were well aware that your anger was misdirected, though your pride didn’t let you back down.

“Anyway, I'm really sorry about earlier," he repeated, his voice gentle and sincere. "I know things got messed up, and it wasn’t fair to you."

The softness of his tone momentarily disarmed you, but you quickly remembered the frustration of being pushed aside. You folded your arms across your chest, maintaining your steely gaze. "It's not your fault, but that doesn't make it any less infuriating," you replied curtly, though a part of you felt a pang of guilt for being so harsh.

He nodded, understanding. "I get that. I really do. That's why I wanted to apologize properly." He held out the bag towards you, his eyes pleading for you to accept his peace offering.

You hesitated, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. Slowly, you reached for the bag, feeling the crinkle of the paper beneath your fingers. Peeking inside, you were met with a colorful assortment of convenience store sweets and chips. The sight was so unexpected that it momentarily broke through your anger, leaving you both surprised and amused.

“Hold on, what is this?” you asked, incredulous, pulling out a pack of sour candies and a bag of your favorite potato chips.

He lifted a shoulder into a half shrug, the motion causing his tousled hair to fall slightly over his forehead. A dark blush tinted the tips of his ears, standing out starkly against his pale skin. “I wasn’t really sure what you might like, so I got everything.”

You couldn't help but let out a disbelieving chuckle. The gesture was absurdly extravagant, almost comical, but undeniably thoughtful. Your gaze shifted from the bag to his face, taking in the earnestness in his eyes. The softness of his brown eyes, filled with a mix of anxiety and hope, caught you off guard. Despite the frustration and anger still simmering within you, the sincerity of his actions tugged at your heartstrings.

The gesture was ridiculous, you decided. But as your eyes finally locked with the softness of his brown ones, you couldn’t seem to ignore the swelling in your chest. The warmth of his gaze, combined with the blush that refused to leave his ears, chipped away at your resolve. A smile forced its way onto your lips despite your desire to maintain the angry mask.

“Well, I guess it’s a start,” you conceded, the corners of your mouth curling up despite your best efforts to remain stern.

He exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized he was holding, relief washing over his features. “I’m really sorry about today. It wasn’t fair to you, and I wanted to make it right, even if just a little.”

You sighed, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders. “It’s not your fault. It’s just... this industry, you know?”

He nodded, understanding evident in his eyes. “Yeah, I get it. It can be tough. But hey, at least you’ve got some snacks now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound lightening the oppressive atmosphere that had settled around you. “True. Thanks for that.”

He grinned, the boyish smile returning and making him look even more endearing as he took a seat in front of you. “Anytime.”

As the two of you continued to talk, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the park. The earlier tension seemed to dissipate, replaced by a tentative camaraderie that hinted at the possibility of something more. For the first time that day, you felt a glimmer of hope that things might just turn out okay.

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON.

Under the soft glow of city lights and the gentle hum of midnight traffic, Sunghoon stood apprehensively at the entrance of a seemingly lavish apartment complex. The crumpled invitation from Jake was like a heavy weight in his pocket. An internal turmoil raged within him — whether to keep his promise to his friend and attend the gathering or to retreat to the comforting solitude of his bedroom. The flurry of potential outcomes made his head spin, leaving him frozen in place. He couldn’t help but notice the curious glances from the woman behind the front desk, her occasional head tilt suggesting she was trying to figure out what he was doing there, even as she returned her focus to her laptop.

Social gatherings had stopped being Sunghoon’s forte somewhere along the transition from his teenage years to his recent adulthood. Normally, he would have turned down Jake’s invitation without a second thought. But his mother’s worried voice echoed in his mind from their recent phone call, her concern palpable. “You used to have me worried sick every single night when you would go out to all these parties, and now you have me worried sick every night you tell me you’d rather isolate yourself in your room, love.”

Taking a deep breath, Sunghoon willed himself to move forward. The memory of his mother’s concern pushed him to break free from his self-imposed isolation. He finally pressed the buzzer, his heart racing. When the door clicked open, he stepped inside, feeling the unexpected warmth of the building wrap around him in a soothing manner. He sent Jake a quick text, letting him know he would be up in a minute or two.

The elevator ride to the top floor felt interminable, each second stretching out with mounting anxiety. When the doors slid open, he was met with Jake’s bright smile and slightly unfocused eyes. “You made it!” Jake exclaimed, pulling him into a quick hug. Sunghoon managed a smile, the familiar comfort of his currently tipsy friend easing some of his nerves.

As they walked down the corridor towards your apartment, Jake’s enthusiastic chatter filled the air. He rattled on about everyone who’d made it, the music, the food, and all the games he’d missed. Sunghoon tried to absorb some of his friend’s excitement, though part of him still longed to retreat to the safety of his room. The door to your apartment was slightly ajar, and lively music and intoxicated laughter spilled out into the hallway.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, with a soft, ambient glow from various lamps and candles. Sunghoon scanned the room, taking in the mix of vaguely familiar and unfamiliar faces. He was pleased to find only a small group present, just as Jake had promised. His eyes finally landed on you, who effortlessly commanded the room’s attention with a level of self-assurance Sunghoon could only yearn to achieve. As if sensing his eyes, you glanced in his direction, finally taking notice of their arrival before making your way over, a welcoming smile on your face that had Sunghoon’s stomach performing pirouettes.

“Jake, you’re back!” You cheered tipsily before focusing on the visibly anxious new guest, bowing as a polite greeting — an action immediately returned. “Is this the friend you told me about? Park Sunghoon?”

The way Sunghoon’s name rolled off your tongue with such sweetness had him reeling. Jake responded for him with an animated nod, slinging his arm around his friend’s shoulder despite being shorter.

“I’m very happy you were able to make it, Sunghoon!” You giggled lightly — a heavenly melody that tugged at Sunghoon’s erratic heart. “Please make yourself at home. There’s food and drinks over there,” you added, gesturing to a table laden with various treats.

As the evening progressed, Sunghoon found himself slowly relaxing, the initial tension easing away. Although he’d made the conscious decision not to consume any alcohol so that he would still be able to bring Jake and himself back home safely, he joined in the laughter, engaged in conversations with other idols, and sampled some of the food. Despite his initial reluctance, Sunghoon was beginning to enjoy himself.

During a lull in the conversations, Sunghoon found himself standing alone on the balcony, looking out over the city lights. The cool night air was a welcome respite from the warmth inside, and he took a moment to breathe deeply, savoring the tranquility. However, his head was tormented by thoughts of you as he almost obsessively replayed a mental film he’d recorded of you throughout the night, capturing candid scenes of you leaning against the wall while talking to one of your guests, sipping your drink between bursts of laughter, engaging in an impromptu dance competition with Jake, and the times he’d catch you watching him from the opposite side of the room with an unreadable expression before looking away timidly. These were memories he hoped to hold close to his heart even if the two of you never crossed paths again after this night. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear you approach until you stood beside him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You spoke softly, eyes fixed on the glittering skyline. Sunghoon nodded, feeling an electrifying jolt rush through his veins at the unexpectedness of your company, followed by a strange sense of calm that soothed the fresh spike of his anxiety. The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while — you simply enjoying the view, and him almost hearing the soft whirring of his mental camera as it recorded the moment for him to save.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” you eventually said, turning to face Sunghoon. There was something in your twinkling gaze that made Sunghoon’s heart skip a beat, an unspoken connection passing between you both.

“Me too,” Sunghoon replied, surprised to realize he meant it. As the two of you continued to talk, an unexpected warmth blossomed in his chest, sensing the creation of an unbreakable red thread that linked you to him. It was both thrilling and terrifying. For the first time in a long while, Sunghoon felt as though he was exactly where he was meant to be.

As the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves drifting away from the main party, your conversation deepening with each passing minute. You discovered shared interests and experiences, revealing parts of yourselves neither were usually eager to share with others. Sunghoon was captivated by the stories of your early days in the industry, the struggles and triumphs that mirrored his own journey.

There was a moment when the laughter died down, and the air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken words that neither of you was brave enough to voice out loud but both seemed to understand. Sunghoon looked into your eyes and felt a magnetic pull, an undeniable connection that made his heart race. He wondered if you felt it too, this strange and exhilarating sensation that was both new and familiar.

You broke the silence, voice soft and sincere. “You know, I’ve been where you are now. The isolation, the doubt…it can be overwhelming. But sometimes reaching out, even if it’s just for a night, can make all the difference. So I’m really glad you’re here tonight.”

Sunghoon nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “I didn’t expect to feel this way tonight,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, a warm and understanding expression that made Sunghoon’s heart flutter. “Neither did I,” you replied. “But I’m glad we both took the chance.”

The city lights continued to sparkle below you both, a silent witness to the beginning of something new. As the night drew to a close, Sunghoon knew that this had been more than just an ordinary gathering. It was the start of a bond that held the promise of something deeper, something that could change both of your lives forever.

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO.

As the limousine pulled up to the grand entrance of the high-fashion show, Sunoo took a deep breath, steeling himself for the evening ahead. Being a part of a rapidly rising KPOP group, he was accustomed to the spotlight, but attending this event alone felt different. The opulent venue buzzed with the energy of the fashion elite, cameras flashing and voices blending into a hum of anticipation. 

Stepping out onto the red carpet, Sunoo was immediately enveloped by the dazzling lights and the flurry of activity. He straightened his impeccably tailored suit, aware of every eye on him. Yet, despite the familiar pressure, there was a unique thrill in the air tonight. As he prepared himself to move forward, his eyes were immediately drawn to a striking figure across from him — another idol, unknown to him, yet governing everyone’s attention with an effortless grace.

You strolled down the velvet red carpet, pausing every few steps to allow the photographers to capture the stunning design adorning your figure, which had been made especially for you. Your movements were fluid, each step exuding confidence and natural charm. As the ambassador for a rival brand, an impeccable aura of sophistication rolled off your skin with an ease that captivated Sunoo in an instant. The way the rays of the setting sun seemed to favor you, casting a perfect golden glow on your flawless features, made it impossible to look away.

Sunoo’s trance was disrupted by the heavy hand of the security guard who had kindly opened the limousine door a moment prior, silently urging him to make haste before the next celebrity arrived. He quickly gathered himself, offering a polite nod to the guard before making his way down the carpet. By the time Sunoo returned his gaze to where your mysterious essence had stood, he was surprised to find you already inside, leaving behind an air of secrecy that lingered in Sunoo’s mind.

Entering the grand hall, Sunoo was greeted by a sea of fashion icons, designers, and celebrities from all around the world mingling under the shimmering chandeliers. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the buzz of conversations and the clinking of champagne glasses. Yet, amidst the glamorous chaos, Sunoo’s thoughts kept drifting back to the enigmatic memory of you.

He navigated through the crowd, exchanging polite greetings and smiles, but his mind was elsewhere. The brief glimpse he had caught of you had sparked a curiosity he couldn’t shake as he found himself subconsciously searching for you. Who are you? What is your story? The questions swirled in Sunoo’s mind, adding a layer of intrigue to the already dazzling event.

As Sunoo settled into his seat, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. The runway came to life with models showcasing the latest collections, each piece more stunning than the last. But even as the fashion show unfolded before him, Sunoo found his eyes wandering to the rows opposite him, searching for that familiar face.

And then, there you were. You were seated just a few rows away, attention fixed on the runway. Sunoo took the opportunity to observe you more closely, noting the confident way you carried yourself, the subtle elegance in your every movement. There was something magnetic about you, a presence that drew Sunoo in and refused to let go.

The fashion show progressed, each segment more captivating than the last, but for Sunoo, the true highlight was the possibility of a single minute with you. As the final model strutted down the runway and the audience erupted into applause, Sunoo knew he had to find a way to introduce himself. This night, under the dazzling lights of the fashion elite, gave him the unmistakable sensation that it might mark the beginning of something extraordinary — such a thing being yourself.

Following the fashion show, Sunoo took a moment to collect himself. The applause gradually subsided, and the room buzzed with excited chatter as attendees began to mingle and move toward the reception area. Sunoo’s heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nerves as he scanned the crowd, seeking another glimpse of you.

The hall was now a swirl of elegant gowns, tailored suits, and sparkling jewelry, with everyone engaged in animated conversations regarding the slew of unique designs they’d just witnessed. Sunoo made his way through the throng, offering polite smiles and hasty bows while his thoughts remained fixated on you. He couldn’t shake the sense of urgency, the need to introduce himself and learn about you who had so effortlessly stolen his sanity.

As he approached the bar, Sunoo finally spotted you standing near a cluster of fashion executives and designers. You were engrossed in conversation, your laughter echoing like a melody above the hum of the crowd. Sunoo hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage before making his way toward you.

Just as he was about to reach you, a voice called out his name. He turned to see his brand’s creative director, a smile on her face as she beckoned him over. Sunoo’s heart sank slightly, but he knew that ignoring her was not an option. With a polite bow, he approached her, engaging in a brief yet lively discussion about the evening’s show and their brand’s latest collection.

As soon as the conversation reached its natural end, Sunoo didn’t waste a second to glance back to where you had been, only to find you had moved on. Panic set in, though he took a deep breath, determined not to let the opportunity slip away. He began to weave through the crowd once more, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

Finally, he spotted you near the entrance to a quieter lounge area, a serene space with plush seating and soft lighting. Sunoo made his way over, his steps quickening as he neared you. He paused just a few feet away, taking yet another deep breath to steady his nerves.

“Excuse me,” Sunoo said, his voice somehow calm yet tinged with an anticipation you didn’t miss. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his with a curious, welcoming gaze that weakened his knees. “I couldn’t help but notice you during the show. I’m Sunoo, from Enhypen. It is a true honor to meet you.”

A smile spread across your face, genuine and warm. “Hello, Sunoo. I am Y/N from SM Entertainment. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

The conversation flowed easily from there, a mix of introductions, shared experiences, and mutual admiration for the evening’s fashion showcase. As the night wore on, the initial spark of intense curiosity between you grew into a deeper attachment. The surrounding chatter and movement seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of conversation and laughter.

By the time the evening came to an end, Sunoo knew that the unignorable sense of tonight marking a thrilling new beginning had been correct. As you exchanged contact information and made plans to meet again, there was an unspoken understanding that this thread that linked the two of you, born under the dazzling lights of the fashion elite, held the promise of something truly special.

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON.

It had been an excruciatingly long time since Jungwon had danced purely for the joy of it, even if he kept this yearning to himself. He was well-aware of the sacrifices demanded by his career when he first started as a trainee, and he would make that commitment again without hesitation. Yet, the craving for dance, like a dormant ember, flared up intermittently, refusing to be extinguished by the relentless demands of his life.

At the moment, Jungwon felt an urgent need to escape, a desperate desire to retreat into solitude where he could breathe without the relentless pressure of work bearing down on him. The large headphones that had pressed into his ears for the duration of the recording session now hung around his neck, heavy with the weight of his mounting frustration. As he watched the producing team, whom he had come to know through each Enhypen album, huddled in private discussion, he felt increasingly isolated. The mics were off, their muted voices blending into an unwelcoming silence that amplified his sense of failure. He had repeated the same lines over and over since he first entered, unable to capture the performance they sought. It was baffling why something that should be simple had become so exasperatingly complex.

After what felt like an eternity, the producers nodded curtly at each other, signaling their agreement. They turned to Jungwon through the subtly tinted glass, their faces betraying a hint of resignation.

“Jungwon,” one of them sighed into the microphone, the voice slightly distorted as it came through the speakers. “I think we should try again next Monday. Please take this time to rest.”

Disappointment pierced through him like a cold, sharp blade. He slumped his shoulders, his gaze dropping to the floor as he gave a solemn nod. Swiftly, he removed his headphones and gathered his belongings. The room was filled with pitiful smiles from the team, but Jungwon was too eager to escape to notice. The confined space was stifling, and he was desperate for freedom. As he trudged down the nearly vacant corridors of the company building, his frustration simmered, bubbling up like molten lava, searing through him with each step.

He searched his mind for a place where he could be alone. Going home was not an option with half his members there, their typical boisterousness far from the sanctuary he craved. Restaurants and coffee shops were possibilities, but he lacked the appetite for anything. And then, as if the universe had taken pity on him, memories of hours spent dancing alone in the company’s dance rooms flooded his mind. It was enough to redirect his aimless wanderings. He made a beeline for the elevator, his steps quickening as excitement surged through him, a welcome escape from the stifling environment. He reveled in the knowledge that no one would question his whereabouts, believing him to still be at the recording booth.

With his heart pounding a rhythm of genuine elation, everything around him blurred into insignificance as he focused solely on his destination. The seconds stretched painfully as he awaited the elevator doors to open. The tip of his tongue seemed to taste the sweet promise of freedom as he finally reached the end of the hall, where the rarely used dance room stood, its door a familiar friend in his moment of need.

Had Jungwon not been so absorbed in his whirlwind of emotions, he might have noticed the soft strains of music emanating from within. Instead, he burst into the room, breathless, only to find himself frozen by the sight before him. There, bathed in the warm, gentle light, was you—dancing with a grace that seemed to defy the ordinary.

You were lost in your world, every movement flowing effortlessly with the tender rhythm of the music. There were no goals to reach, no steps to follow—just a pure expression of emotion that dripped from your every move. You danced as if the weight of the world had melted away, a blissful freedom that Jungwon hadn’t felt in ages. Your dance was a vivid reminder of what it was meant to be before fame had ever touched his life.

To Jungwon, who stood silently by the door, watching in awe, you were completely absorbed in your own realm. The peaceful, contented look on your face made it clear that you were in a moment of serene solitude. He tried to retreat quietly, but stumbled over his own feet, causing you to stop abruptly and turn toward him with wide, startled eyes.

In that instant, the world seemed to collapse around you both, leaving only the connection between your eyes and his. The silence stretched, laden with awkwardness, and you were the first to look away. Jungwon’s heart sank, wishing he could lose himself in your eyes forever.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice tentative. “I was just finishing up. I’ll get my stuff and leave.”

The last thing Jungwon wanted was for you to leave in such a rush. He was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions—entranced, confused, dazed, distressed—but the most powerful feeling was the undeniable pull toward you. You, who had suddenly appeared in his world, who moved with effortless grace like a bird in flight, and who had given him the briefest of smiles that seemed to halt his heartbeat. You were an enigma he felt destined to connect with, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Before you could slip past him, Jungwon found himself instinctively reaching out, his hand landing gently on your shoulder. The contact elicited soft gasps of surprise from both of you. His eyes locked onto yours, desperately trying to savor every detail of your features. He realized there might never be enough time to fully appreciate your beauty, but all he wanted was a single minute to bask in your presence. He was acutely aware of his own vulnerability as the desire to remain near you replaced his previous yearning for solitude.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen someone dance the way you just did,” he said, his voice barely audible. The blush that colored your cheeks was all the confirmation he needed that you heard him.

“Oh,” you blinked, caught off guard. “Thank you.”

“If you’re not busy,” Jungwon continued, though he was unsure of where his words would lead, “please stay.”

You studied his face, searching for sincerity and intent. Perhaps it was the raw desperation in his brown eyes or the electric tingle of his touch that convinced you. Whatever it was, you decided to stay, offering him a shy but genuine smile. Your heart raced as you noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks, a sign of his radiant smile.

And so you stayed. What began as a moment stretched into hours, then weeks, and eventually a lifetime. In that dance room, amidst the echoing melodies and fleeting moments, something truly extraordinary was born.

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI.

In the bustling expanse of the airport lounge, the soft hum of conversations mingled with the distant announcements of flight departures provided a backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts in Ni-ki’s mind. Seated amongst  his fellow members, sought a fleeting moment of tranquility before their flight to Tokyo, the next stop on their concert tour. From such a young age, normalcy had been a distant concept, eclipsed by the relentless rush of performances and public appearances that left little room for peaceful introspection. The early morning departure had left them all groggy, their energy sapped by the unforgiving schedule that defined their lives.

Ni-ki leaned back in his seat, his eyes closing as he sought to capture a fleeting sense of peace amidst the chaos. The lounge, a hive of activity, was populated with travelers—some dozing off in their seats, others engrossed in their devices, and a few engaged in low murmurs of conversation. The atmosphere was a curious blend of anticipation and exhaustion, a microcosm of the frenetic life Ni-ki had come to know so well.

When Ni-ki opened his eyes, his gaze drifted across the room, taking in the varied faces of fellow travelers. His eyes settled on a vaguely recognizable group of young idols seated across the lounge, their presence unmistakable even amid the sea of people. Your group, though from a different agency, radiated a camaraderie and vibrant energy that felt oddly familiar. Among them, you stood out—a figure of serene poise amidst the lively chatter of your companions.

Ni-ki’s attention was drawn to you, his curiosity piqued by the quiet aura you exuded. There was a subtle grace in your demeanor that captivated him. You sat with large headphones covering your ears, occasionally glancing around the lounge as if seeking a moment of solitude amidst the bustling environment. Your hair fell gently over your eyes as you absentmindedly adjusted your oversized hoodie, a small, seemingly insignificant action that made you appear both approachable and endearingly shy.

Minutes stretched into an hour as you and Ni-ki waited for your respective flights. While his group members were absorbed in their own activities—some napping, others lost in games or music—Ni-ki found himself increasingly drawn to you. There was something magnetic about your presence, an unspoken allure that made his heart race each time your eyes briefly met. The pull he felt was inexplicable yet undeniable.

You possessed an effortless charm, a quiet confidence that set you apart from the crowd. Ni-ki found himself imagining what your voice might sound like, wondering what thoughts occupied your mind, and what music you might be listening to—all while grappling with his own doubts and shyness that held him back from approaching you. The mystery surrounding you only deepened Ni-ki’s fascination, turning mere curiosity into a profound longing to know more.

Across the lounge, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. At first, you thought it was a trick of your imagination, but the sensation persisted. Your sensitivity to the energy around you made Ni-ki’s gaze feel like a gentle but persistent tug. Despite your attempts to focus on your group’s animated conversation, your thoughts kept drifting back to the boy who seemed so captivated by you. You wondered what had caught his attention—was it your appearance? Clad in an oversized hoodie and leggings, with minimal makeup, you certainly didn't stand out in the traditional sense. Or was it your demeanor? You had done little more than sit quietly, attempting to conserve your energy and maintain a reserved presence. Though outwardly calm, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, adding to the enigma Ni-ki seemed drawn to.

Finally, a boarding announcement for a flight to Osaka broke Ni-ki’s reverie. He watched as your group began to gather their belongings, preparing to leave. A pang of disappointment struck him, realizing that his chance to approach you and strike up a conversation was slipping away. Just as he was about to redirect his attention back to his own group in a silent acceptance of defeat, he noticed you had lingered behind, your eyes meeting his for a brief, charged moment.

In that fleeting exchange, there was an unspoken connection, a shared understanding that transcended the chaos surrounding you both. You offered a small, almost shy smile before rejoining your group, leaving Ni-ki with a lingering sense of anticipation and curiosity. The way your eyes had held his, as if conveying a silent message, made his heart flutter with a strange, exhilarating hope.

As you followed your group to the boarding gate, you couldn't shake the feeling of Ni-ki’s eyes lingering on you. It was both thrilling and unnerving, sparking a curiosity of your own. In the subtlest way possible, you stole one last glance over your shoulder, finding Ni-ki still watching with an intensity that made your heart race. You smiled to yourself, wondering if fate might bring the two of you together again in the near future.

As you and your group disappeared through the boarding gate, Ni-ki was left contemplating the possibility of your paths crossing again—perhaps amidst the vibrant streets of Tokyo or in the backstage corridors of a concert venue. The brief interaction had left an indelible mark on him, a spark that refused to be extinguished by the routine of his life. Settling back into his seat, Ni-ki’s thoughts drifted back to you, imagining potential conversations, shared laughter, and the possibility of a burgeoning friendship—or hopefully something more—that could blossom in the most unexpected of places.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open!

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @llvrhee @d-dilemma

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🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

❤️ THE PRICE OF PLEASURE ( xdinary heroes )

❛ When Jiseok and Jooyeon break your strict rule, you push the boundaries of your control and desire, navigating a thrilling interplay of discipline and pleasure as you mold their eager submission to your will.

𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐤 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 + female reader + 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧 ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.0k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 32 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Yet another amazing request made by the wonderful 🍀 Anon! This is probably the filthiest, things I've ever written. But I also feel like it's my absolute favorite! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, oral (male and female receiving), brief m x m action, voyeurism, Jooyeon is a major brat, Jooyeon and Gaon are both submissive, Reader is a control-obsessed dom, she's also soft sometimes, Gaon gets pegged, handjob, begging, crying (not really, but kinda), lots and lots of teasing, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

The familiar, rhythmic thud of your shoes hitting the floor echoed softly through the quiet apartment as you kicked them off, the sound oddly amplified in the stillness. A slight frown tugged at your lips, a whisper of confusion settling in as you took in the unexpected silence. Your home, usually alive with the vibrant energy of your boyfriends, was eerily calm, devoid of the usual symphony of laughter and banter that often greeted your return. It was odd, unsettling even, that this quiet was your welcome, especially since their shoes were already neatly lined by the door—a sign that they were home, yet nowhere to be seen.

With a gentle shrug, you slipped off your light jacket, the fabric brushing softly against your skin as you hung it on the coat rack. Your oversized work bag followed, its weight slipping from your shoulder with a familiar relief. As you stood there, the quiet pressing in around you, suspicion began to stir, a soft unease gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. Your gaze swept the room, searching for any sign of your lovers' presence, but the usual chaos they brought with them was conspicuously absent. The stillness felt like a lull before a storm, the kind of silence that Jiseok and Jooyeon could never maintain for long, especially when they were together, plotting their next mischievous escapade.

Faintly, like a whisper in the quiet, you caught the delicate sound of shuffling emanating from within your bedroom. The noise was subtle, almost hesitant, yet it pierced through the silence with a presence that demanded attention. Your eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring as you took in the unusual sight of your closed bedroom door—a rare occurrence in the sanctuary of your home. With a quiet resolve, you made your way toward the source of the sound, each step deliberate and silent as if the stillness of the apartment itself held its breath.

As you reached the door, your hand hesitated for the briefest moment before gently pushing it open. The scene that greeted you was one of raw, unapologetic intimacy, an almost obscene tableau that instantly commanded your full attention. There, perched at the edge of your shared bed, was Jooyeon, his slender frame glistening with a sheen of sweat. His head was thrown back in a wild surrender to pleasure, long strands of hair clinging to his damp, flushed skin, creating an image of untamed beauty. His face, scrunched up in ecstasy, betrayed the intense sensations coursing through him, every muscle in his body taut with the effort of holding on to the bliss that threatened to consume him.

Kneeling between Jooyeon’s trembling legs was Jiseok, his back turned to you, though the rhythmic bobbing of his head left no doubt about the intimate service he was providing. The sight of them together, lost in their own world of pleasure, was a potent mix of annoyance and arousal, each emotion vying for dominance within you. The lewd, wet sounds that filled the air only intensified the storm brewing inside, sending an intoxicating rush of heat through your veins. It was a moment suspended in time, one that held you captive, torn between the urge to interrupt and the desire to watch their passion unfold.

Deciding not to disturb their passionate moment, you chose instead to lean casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest. There was a certain thrill in observing them unnoticed, your gaze sharp and unyielding as it fixed upon the scene unfolding before you. Curiosity sparked within, urging you to see just how long it would take for them to sense the weight of your stare, to feel the intensity of your presence as you watched, silent and unmoving.

Yet, as the seconds ticked by, that initial thrill began to sour, replaced by a simmering annoyance that crept into your chest. The longer you stood there, the more your irritation grew, gnawing at the edges of your patience. You had set rules for a reason—clear, firm boundaries that all of you had agreed upon, understanding the importance of maintaining balance within your dynamic. One of those rules was simple, yet essential: neither of them was allowed to indulge in pleasure without your explicit permission, particularly when you had made your desires known. You had been crystal clear, even taking the time to send a message in the group chat before leaving work, outlining exactly how you wanted them.

But as you stood there, a sudden realization struck you with infuriating clarity. Technically, they weren’t breaking any rules, and the thought sent a fresh wave of irritation coursing through you. You could vividly recall the exact phrasing you had used: "Neither of you can give yourselves pleasure without my explicit permission, especially if I tell you that I want you beforehand." The loophole they had exploited now seemed glaringly obvious, and a bitter scoff nearly escaped your lips. They weren't seeking pleasure from themselves but from each other—a clever, if maddening, twist on your words.

The knowledge that they had found a way around your rule, skirting the edges of defiance while technically staying within the bounds you had set, only fueled your growing annoyance. Yet, beneath that annoyance, there was a grudging admiration for their audacity, for the way they had turned your own rule against you. It was a delicate dance of power and submission, one that you were determined to reclaim control over, even as you continued to watch, the silence between you heavy with unspoken tension.

As if finally attuned to the simmering tension in the room, Jooyeon’s pleasure-clouded eyes fluttered open, locking onto your unyielding stare. For a brief moment, his gaze remained unfocused, lost in the haze of the moment, but then recognition dawned, widening his eyes in a sudden panic. In a frantic rush, he pushed Jiseok away, his movements clumsy with urgency. Jiseok, still caught in the throes of their intimacy, mumbled something unintelligible, his voice muffled by the lingering taste of Jooyeon's desire. It wasn’t until he followed Jooyeon’s gaze that the gravity of the situation fully hit him. His own eyes went wide, a deep flush of anxiety spreading across his face, the earlier confidence replaced by a palpable unease.

Despite the tumultuous swirl of emotions churning within you, you maintained a veneer of calm as you slowly pushed yourself off the doorframe. Your movements were deliberate, calculated, as you made your way to a plush chair nestled in the furthest corner of the room. The sharp edge in your voice betrayed the storm beneath your composed exterior as you spoke, “Don’t let me interrupt your fun,” you said, the words slicing through the thick silence like a blade. 

Settling into the chair with an elegance that belied the intensity of the moment, you crossed one leg over the other, the smooth motion a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere. Your fingers intertwined with a practiced grace, resting casually on your lap, though there was nothing casual about the undercurrent of displeasure in your tone. "Clearly, I’m not needed here," you continued, the bitterness in your words hanging in the air like a challenge, daring them to refute it. The room seemed to shrink under the weight of your presence, the earlier intimacy now overshadowed by the unspoken tension that filled the space between you.

While Jiseok, ever the more submissive of the two, began to pathetically crawl across the floor toward you, his movements were slow and deliberate, as if each inch he gained was a testament to his regret. When he finally reached you, he positioned himself on his knees, his arms wrapping around your legs in a desperate embrace. His head bowed low, resting against your lap, he mumbled a stream of breathless apologies, each word laced with a whine that betrayed his mounting anxiety. His voice was a soft, trembling plea for forgiveness, and though his presence was tangible, your gaze remained fixed elsewhere.

Your attention was locked on Jooyeon, whose unwavering stare met yours with a defiant glint. His eyes, dark and challenging, held none of the remorse that Jiseok so readily displayed. Instead, there was a boldness in his gaze, a spark of rebellion that was all too familiar. It wasn’t unexpected—Jooyeon had always possessed an uncanny ability to push your limits, a relentless determination to test your patience at every turn. The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips was a silent taunt, an invitation to the game he so loved to play. 

He knew you too well, knew precisely which buttons to press and when to press them. It was a dance you had performed countless times before, each step choreographed with an intimacy that came from understanding the deepest corners of each other's minds. Yet, despite knowing how the game would play out, despite the simmering frustration that he always managed to evoke within you, there was a part of you that couldn't help but admire his audacity. It was infuriating, maddening even, but there was also something intoxicating about the way he challenged you, the way he thrived on eliciting a reaction.

Jooyeon's defiance was a fire that refused to be extinguished, a flame that burned with a heat that could either consume or ignite something within you. And as you stared into his eyes, a silent battle waging between the two of you, the familiar thrill of the challenge began to stir within your chest, mingling with the annoyance that his stubbornness always managed to evoke. It was a complex dance of power and submission, one that neither of you were willing to lose.

“Please,” Jiseok’s voice quivered with desperation, his fingers curling around the hem of your shirt as if clinging to a lifeline. His plea was laced with a raw vulnerability, an attempt to capture your attention, to divert your gaze from the other boy who remained rooted in defiant stillness. For a long moment, you ignored him, your eyes fixed on Jooyeon, who hadn't moved an inch. But eventually, the pitiful weight of Jiseok’s words pulled you down to him, your gaze dropping to meet his flushed, guilt-ridden face. His cheeks were stained a deep crimson, the color of shame, and his eyes glistened with regret that bordered on desperation.

“I told Jooyeon it wasn’t a good idea, but he still made me do it,” Jiseok murmured, his voice wavering as he sought to absolve himself, to shift the blame onto the unyielding figure across the room. His words, however, were met with a sharp scoff from Jooyeon, who rolled his eyes with a mixture of disdain and amusement. The smirk that played on his lips was almost cruel in its satisfaction as he cut through Jiseok’s attempt at innocence with biting clarity.

“Don’t act all innocent, Ji. You weren’t too hard to convince,” Jooyeon’s voice dripped with mocking amusement, the casual dismissal of Jiseok’s plea only deepening the tension in the room. Your eyes narrowed, fixing on Jiseok, who recoiled slightly under your scrutinizing gaze. The groveling man at your feet cast a quick, venomous glare in Jooyeon’s direction before returning his pleading eyes to you, a silent appeal for mercy.

The sight of them, one defiant and the other groveling, was almost too much to bear. You could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all—the way Jiseok's desperate attempts to escape blame were so easily dismantled by Jooyeon’s unrelenting honesty. Yet, you held back, determined to maintain your composure. With a deliberate, gentle firmness, you pushed Jiseok away, his fingers slipping from your shirt as you created a space between your bodies. The movement was final, a quiet assertion of your control, a reminder that you would not be swayed by pitiful apologies or manipulative tactics.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Your voice cut through the tension like a blade, sharp and unwavering. You raised an eyebrow, your gaze flickering between the two men, each of them a stark contrast to the other in their response. Jooyeon, ever the defiant one, met your challenge with a smirk that played at the corners of his lips. He shifted his weight, leaning back onto his elbows with a casual arrogance, his eyes drifting lazily toward Jiseok as if the entire situation were nothing more than an amusing game.

Jiseok, in stark contrast, remained at your feet, his frown deepening as he absorbed the weight of your words. The air between you all was thick with unspoken tension, the power dynamic shifting and settling as you held their gazes, one after the other. Jooyeon’s smirk widened, his expression one of almost mocking confidence as he finally broke the silence, his voice laced with a taunting edge.

You let the silence hang for a beat, your patience wearing thin. “Don’t let me interrupt your fun,” you added, the words laced with a subtle yet unmistakable edge. Your gaze remained steady, shifting between them, watching their reactions with a mixture of frustration and control. The defiance in Jooyeon’s posture only seemed to grow stronger under your scrutiny, while Jiseok’s frown deepened, his eyes flickering with unease. 

The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension, each of you aware of the delicate balance of power at play. Your words, though calmly spoken, carried an undercurrent of authority that left no room for misinterpretation.

Jiseok resumed his position at your feet, his fingers trembling slightly as they fisted the hem of your shirt once more. His bottom lip jutted out in a desperate pout, the very picture of contrition. As you gazed down at him, his remorse was palpable, almost tangible in the way his eyes pleaded for forgiveness. The sight of him, so earnestly regretful, caused something within you to soften, a crack in the armor of your stern resolve.

Yet, you knew better than to let that moment of tenderness sway your judgment. Judging by the way Jooyeon had reacted to your earlier command to continue with his naughty activities, you understood that simply ordering them to proceed wouldn’t serve as the true punishment Jooyeon needed. He thrived on defiance, on pushing boundaries, and you were all too aware that he wouldn’t be so easily subdued. 

With a gentle sigh, you leaned back into your seat, allowing your expression to shift from stern to sympathetic as your focus returned to the older boy at your feet. The transformation was subtle yet deliberate, a calculated move meant to comfort Jiseok, whose guilt was as evident as the tears brimming in his eyes. Your index finger curled beneath his chin, tilting his face upward to meet your gaze. The touch was soft, almost tender, and your thumb traced the contour of his chin with a gentleness that belied the authority you wielded.

“Do you feel guilty, Ji?” you cooed, your voice a soothing balm against the tension that still lingered in the air. 

His response was immediate, his head nodding with such fervor that it almost seemed frantic. “So, so sorry!” he gasped, his voice a breathless plea, and you could see the sliver of hope flickering in his eyes at your sudden change in demeanor.

The shift in your tone and touch was deliberate, designed to draw him closer, to offer him a glimpse of redemption. The power dynamic was clear, but in this moment, it was laced with a tenderness that made Jiseok’s heart swell with a desperate need to earn back your favor. And as you looked into his eyes, you could see that your calculated change in approach had taken its desired effect, planting the seed of hope within him while still maintaining the control you so deftly wielded.

“Hmmm,” you murmur thoughtfully, your voice a soft, velvety purr as you release Jiseok’s face from your gentle hold. Your fingers linger for a moment, caressing his skin with a lingering warmth that belied the sternness in your gaze. “If you show me just how sorry you are—by pleasuring me properly, eating me with the devotion I deserve—I might just consider showing you a bit of mercy. Does that sound fair, baby?”

Jiseok’s eyes widened, a glimmer of eager anticipation flashing in their depths. His excitement is almost palpable as he nods vigorously, his expression one of hopeful desperation. Without hesitation, he begins his task, his hands trembling slightly as he grips the waistband of your pants and underwear. With your assistance, he pulls the fabric down to your ankles, his movements urgent and precise.

Once you’ve kicked off the restrictive garments, a sigh escapes your lips, a sound of both relief and satisfaction. You stretch out your legs, opening them with a deliberate and inviting ease, presenting yourself to your eager lover. The warm glow of the nightstand lamps casts a golden sheen over your exposed core, highlighting the glistening wetness that betrays your arousal. The soft light creates a shimmering effect, making your desire all the more visible and enticing.

You catch the subtle, involuntary swallow that ripples through Jooyeon’s throat as he watches the scene unfold, his gaze fixed intently on the sight before him. His reaction is immediate, a clear indication of the effect the display has on him. The moment Jiseok’s eyes fall upon your aroused core, he emits a low, reverent moan, the sound reverberating with a mixture of lust and devotion. The interplay of your body’s response and Jiseok’s eager obedience creates a charged atmosphere, one that only serves to heighten the tension and excitement in the room.

Jiseok didn’t hesitate for a moment, his lips moving with an urgent, fervent need as he traced a path of wet, eager kisses up your inner thighs. Each kiss was imbued with a desperate longing, a tactile promise of the pleasure that awaited. The sensation of his lips against your sensitive skin sent a thrilling jolt of anticipation straight into your abdomen, making your heartbeat quicken with fervor.

When his lips finally reached your aching core, he paused for a brief, tantalizing moment, inhaling the intoxicating, familiar scent of your arousal. The air seemed to crackle with charged energy as he savored the moment, his breath warm and teasing against your skin. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he pressed a soft, reverent kiss onto your sensitive folds. The simple, yet profound contact elicited a shuddered gasp from you, a sound that seemed to resonate deeply within him, filling him with a sense of satisfaction and boldness.

Spurred on by your reaction, Jiseok’s tongue emerged, expertly gliding between your folds with a practiced, skilled touch. The sensation was electric, a wave of intense pleasure that made your fingers instinctively curl into his hair, gripping him tightly. The pressure of your touch was a firm reminder of who held the reins, a detail that elicited a delicious, vibrating moan from Jiseok. The sound reverberated through your core, amplifying the pleasure and creating a symphony of sensations that left you craving more.

Having Jiseok in this submissive, eager state was pure bliss—his compliance and desperation to please made every moment feel like a heavenly indulgence. His willingness to cater to your desires, his every action steeped in devotion and need, transformed the experience into something both transcendent and intimately fulfilling.

After a few moments of surrendering to the intoxicating pleasure Jiseok’s exquisite mouth was bestowing upon you, you reluctantly shifted your gaze toward your other, more rebellious lover. The sight that met your eyes was both captivating and gratifying—Jooyeon, breathless and visibly disheveled, was gripping the bedsheets with such intensity that his knuckles had turned a stark, ghostly white. The raw desperation etched on his face sent a shiver of dark satisfaction coursing through your veins.

You allowed a smirk to curl at the corners of your lips, a reflection of the wicked pleasure you took in his discomfiture. The dark gleam in your eyes only seemed to heighten his arousal, and you could see the effect it had on him. The twitch of his length was unmistakable, a physical testament to the intense frustration and yearning that had been stoked by your presence and actions.

It dawned on you then that his own pleasure had been sharply interrupted by your control, leaving him in a state of aching need. The realization brought a dark, amused chuckle to your lips, a sound that was both cruel and deeply satisfying. The thought that his own arousal was teetering on the edge of painful necessity was a delicious detail you couldn’t help but relish. Each twitch and shudder of his body was a testament to your dominance, a reminder of just how effectively you could manipulate and captivate him.

A surprising jolt of pleasure suddenly pulls your focus away from Jooyeon, drawing your attention back to Jiseok. A moan escapes your lips, filled with both surprise and delight, as you become acutely aware of his expert touch. Jiseok’s fingertips, deft and determined, trace gentle circles over your sensitive nub, while his tongue thrusts rhythmically in and out of your sopping core. His eyes, locked onto your face, gleam with a quiet pride, a testament to his satisfaction in his performance.

Unable to contain your tender response, you smile gently at him, your expression softening with affection. You move the hand that had been resting in his hair to cup his cheek, your thumb caressing him with a tenderness that contrasts the intensity of the moment. At your touch, Jiseok leans into your hand, his body vibrating with a contented hum that resonates through your core. The sensation of his submission and his willingness to please you fills your heart with an overwhelming, indescribable affection.

Despite his habitual mischief, Jiseok was always remarkably attentive when it mattered most. The realization of his devotion intensifies with each stroke of his tongue against the sensitive spot within you, pushing you to a new peak of pleasure. The thought of his unwavering care, despite his playful nature, amplifies your desire. As his tongue finds that sweet, sensitive spot once more, another moan escapes you, and you tighten your grip on his hair, urging him deeper into your pleasure. The combination of his devoted touch and your commanding presence creates a profound sense of intimacy and connection, one that transcends the physical and speaks to the core of your bond.

Jooyeon’s voice abruptly sliced through the bubble of pleasure enveloping you, his tone cracking with a desperate need that belied his attempt at nonchalance. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on the arch of your back, each shudder of pleasure that coursed through you a vivid display of your intense enjoyment. He clutched the sheets beneath him with a fierce grip, as if they were a lifeline holding him in place. You couldn’t help but marvel at his endurance, the way he had resisted the urge to touch himself despite the tormenting frustration. It was a feat that both intrigued and impressed you, though you had no intention of voicing your admiration.

Your gaze flickered toward him, though the image before you was slightly blurred by the overwhelming bliss Jiseok was bestowing upon you. “I’m sorry,” Jooyeon repeated, his voice trembling with raw desperation. This time, the veneer of composure was gone, stripped away by the intensity of his need. As you rolled your hips against Jiseok’s face, using his hair to keep him securely in place, Jooyeon’s eyes grew darker, reflecting a potent mix of longing and frustration.

Jiseok, seemingly lost in the haze of his own desire, groaned deeply into your core, the sound vibrating through you and sending another wave of ecstatic pleasure that left you gasping for breath. His focus remained fixed on you, almost as if Jooyeon’s presence had faded into the background of his single-minded devotion.

When you remained silent in response to Jooyeon’s repeated apologies, he insisted with a fervent plea, “I won’t do it again, I promise.” The desperation in his voice was palpable, the feeling of exclusion starting to gnaw at him just as you had intended. The sight of him, so vulnerable and yearning, was a stark contrast to the pleasure Jiseok continued to deliver, adding another layer of intense satisfaction to the scene unfolding before you.

“No,” you pant, your breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as you lick your lips, the taste of desire lingering on your tongue. Your senses are acutely tuned to the sensations enveloping you; you can feel the sweat that has formed a slick sheen over your body, glistening almost sensually under the soft, amber glow of the nightstand lamps. These lamps cast a warm, inviting light across the otherwise darkened expanse of your bedroom, creating an intimate cocoon that frames the scene with a seductive allure.

Your gaze remains fixed on Jooyeon’s eyes, now clouded with a mixture of longing and frustration. He pants softly, his breaths uneven as he watches the unfolding scene with an almost entranced expression. As you teeter on the precipice of climax, the tightening in your lower abdomen grows almost unbearable. “It’s too late to apologize now, Joo,” you manage to murmur through your heightened pleasure, your voice quivering with the effort to maintain control.

A sharp inhale escapes you as Jiseok’s fingers dig into your thighs, his nails pressing into your soft skin with a possessive grip meant to keep you firmly in place. Momentarily distracted by the intensity of his touch, you reach for his wrists with both hands, holding them with a firm grip as you cast him a warning glare. He should know better than to assume any form of control at this moment; not to mention, you rarely enjoyed the sensation of being confined.

Jiseok’s eyes flicker with a silent apology, a wordless acknowledgment of your unspoken command. Once you see the understanding in his gaze, you release his wrists, allowing your hands to return to his hair. With renewed focus, you guide him back to your core, trapping his head in a vice of pleasure. The intimate connection between you both is palpable, a dance of control and surrender that continues to heighten the ecstasy of the moment.

Your gaze shifted once more, catching Jooyeon leaning forward with renewed intensity, his posture straightening in a futile attempt to catch a better glimpse of your aching core as it lay exposed over Jiseok’s head. A sharp, almost cruel snort escaped you, the sound dripping with mockery. “You should have taken a page from your older brother’s book when you had the chance,” you taunted, your voice edged with a playful disdain as you observed Jooyeon’s sulking reaction to your words. “Now, you’ll have to wait until he’s finished eating his dinner before I deal with you.”

As another moan erupted from your lips—a primal, guttural sound that hung heavily in the air—you began to assert control over the rhythm, your thighs clenching around Jiseok’s head with a firm, possessive grip. Your hips moved with a desperate, relentless pace, rolling back and forth with an urgent, almost frenzied rhythm. The vibrations of Jiseok’s own moans and groans reverberated through you, amplifying the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

With a final, shuddering groan that punctuated your climax, you allowed the intense waves of euphoria to envelop you. Slowly, you adjusted the pace, easing into a more languid rhythm as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm. Eventually, you released Jiseok from your iron grip, his head slipping free from between your thighs.

He didn’t retreat immediately. Instead, he lingered, his lips pressing a firm yet tender kiss onto your highly sensitive core, which elicited a slight flinch from you. Despite the delicate sensation, you managed a tired smile in response, your breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts as you leaned back into your seat, savoring the residual echoes of your pleasure.

The sound of Jooyeon’s moans, mingled with the sight of his desperate gaze, registered in the periphery of your consciousness as you briefly closed your eyes. You took a moment to bask in the relief that Jiseok, ever the attentive lover, had provided to your once-aching arousal. The pleasure had been both intense and satisfying, a balm to the tension that had built up throughout your demanding day at work.

Yet, you didn’t let yourself linger in this moment of indulgence for too long. The awareness of what needed to be done next urged you to refocus. Once your breathing had steadied, your eyes fluttered open, and you straightened up, positioning yourself to face your lovers with renewed determination.

Jiseok remained on the floor before you, now seated with a look of serene satisfaction on his face. He was diligently engaged in cleaning your sticky arousal from his face, his tongue working with practiced precision. The sight of his dedication only heightened your sense of control and satisfaction.

Across the room, Jooyeon was a study in frustrated yearning. His thighs rubbed together in a subtle, almost desperate search for friction, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of envy and longing. The expression on his face was almost palpable, an unspoken plea for attention. You couldn't help but let out a dark, amused laugh at the contrast between Jiseok’s contented diligence and Jooyeon’s evident jealousy. The dynamic between the two was both intoxicating and thrilling, adding another layer of complexity to the scene before you.

You steadied yourself, carefully concealing the tremor in your legs from the recent climax, unwilling to let even a hint of vulnerability disrupt the commanding presence you needed to maintain. The image you projected was crucial for the next phase of your plan, one that was designed to bring your bratty, rebellious lover, Jooyeon, to his knees in submission—just as you intended. While Jooyeon had mastered the art of pushing your buttons, you, too, had accumulated a repertoire of strategies throughout your time with both him and Jiseok.

A smirk curled at the corners of your lips as this thought crossed your mind, a glimmer of mischief dancing in your eyes. You moved with deliberate grace, passing by Jiseok, who continued his focused task with a look of serene satisfaction. Your path led directly to the nightstand on your side of the expansive bed, where a carefully curated collection of sensual toys awaited. The gleam of anticipation in your gaze reflected off the polished surface of the nightstand as you approached, each item meticulously arranged to cater to your desires.

The nightstand’s contents were a testament to your intricate understanding of pleasure and control, each piece chosen to further your goals of domination and indulgence. As you reached for the drawer, the soft click of its opening echoed through the room, adding a layer of expectation to the already charged atmosphere.

You could feel their gazes burning into your skin, each pair of eyes following your every movement with a palpable intensity. Yet, you remained unperturbed, your focus entirely on the task at hand. With deliberate precision, you retrieved the harnesses of your strap, your fingers moving with practiced ease. The ritual of preparation was almost meditative, each action underscoring your dominance and control.

Once the harness was secured in place, you methodically sifted through your collection before finding what you were looking for: Jiseok's favorite dildo. The bright blue silicone toy, vivid and unmistakable, emerged from the drawer. The sight of it elicited a giddy gasp from Jiseok, a sound that was quickly followed by Jooyeon’s mocking snort. The derisive noise only served to widen your smirk, a silent promise of what was to come. You knew Jooyeon’s bravado would soon crumble, but you kept this insight to yourself, letting the anticipation build.

With practiced movements, you secured the toy onto the strap, the click of the mechanism echoing softly in the room. You retrieved a half-empty bottle of lube and tossed it onto the bed with a casual flick of your wrist. Amidst the array of items, you unearthed two pairs of handcuffs from the very bottom of the drawer, a rarely used accessory that now seemed perfectly suited for your purpose. You held them up with a faint smirk, their cold metal glinting under the dim light.

A voice, dazed with anticipation, broke the charged silence. “Are you tying me up?” Jiseok’s voice was closer than before, and you turned to see him resting on the bed behind Jooyeon, his eyes alight with excitement. You chuckled softly at the eagerness evident in his expression, shaking your head as you retrieved a black blindfold from the drawer. The soft rustle of fabric was the only sound as you closed the drawer, tossing the handcuffs and blindfold onto the bed with casual grace.

“Our dear Joo hasn’t been behaving well, remember?” Your voice was a silk thread of menace woven with amusement. Jiseok’s eyes widened as the implications of your words sank in, his gaze shifting to meet Jooyeon’s. Despite the undercurrent of anxiety, there was an undeniable spark of thrill in Jooyeon’s eyes, a fleeting but telling sign of the complex mix of emotions stirring within him.

After taking a final inventory of the items you had meticulously prepared, you positioned yourself before Jooyeon. The room was thick with anticipation as you stood with an air of authority, your hands confidently resting on your hips. The strap, securely fastened and perfectly aligned, hovered enticingly at the level of Jooyeon’s mouth.

Jooyeon gazed up at you, a picture of almost vulnerable apprehension. His eyes, though defiant, betrayed a flicker of unease as they tracked the motion of your strap. Behind him, Jiseok’s head emerged, his eyes wide with a mixture of eagerness and longing, reflecting the soft glow of the room’s lighting.

When Jooyeon remained motionless and silent, you couldn’t suppress a playful smirk. You raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, the gesture both questioning and taunting. “Oh, Joo,” you chided with a tone dripping in feigned disapproval. You shook your head lightly, the movement deliberate and filled with a touch of disappointment. “Are you really going to make me do all the work? I thought you were sorry.”

Your words were laced with clear mockery, and the way Jooyeon’s eyes narrowed subtly in response confirmed that he had picked up on your teasing. The room's atmosphere was charged with the tension of your challenge, each breath and glance heightening the sense of anticipation and control.

Given Jooyeon’s persistent stubbornness, you let out a resigned sigh, signaling Jiseok to assist you in guiding Jooyeon deeper onto the expansive mattress. Jooyeon, showing no resistance to the shift, allowed himself to be maneuvered into position. You ensured he was properly angled against the cool metal bars of the headboard, which elicited a faint wince from him as the chill of the contact met his skin.

Ignoring the fleeting reaction, you proceeded with practiced precision. You handed Jiseok one of the handcuffs, the cold metal gleaming in the dim light, while you retained the other. With swift, deliberate movements, you secured Jooyeon’s wrist to the headboard, the clink of the cuffs breaking the room's heavy silence. As you completed the task, you deftly placed the blindfold over Jooyeon’s eyes, his vision swallowed by the soft, dark fabric. The blindfold, with its promise of obscurity, heightened the anticipation of the moment.

Jiseok, finding the scenario both entertaining and gratifying, let out a light-hearted giggle. His amusement was palpable, a sharp contrast to Jooyeon's subdued state. Following your subtle command, Jiseok positioned himself beneath Jooyeon's bent legs with eager compliance, a reflection of his own excitement.

Turning your gaze back to Jooyeon, you let your voice carry a blend of authority and curiosity. “Joo,” you began, your tone both commanding and contemplative. “You apologized to me earlier. What was it you were apologizing for, hmm?” The question hung in the air, a tantalizing blend of reprimand and intrigue, as you awaited his response.

At your question, Jooyeon huffed in exasperation, the sound betraying his simmering frustration. His arousal, already a deep, agonized red, leaked persistently, the tip glistening with the evidence of his prolonged neglect. It was clear how desperately he had been yearning for release, having restrained himself in hopes of finding favor with you through his own unique, if misguided, penitence.

A flicker of sympathy might have crossed your mind, recognizing the restraint he had exercised. It was evident how much self-discipline it had taken for him to refrain from touching himself, despite the visual and auditory cues of your pleasure. Yet, your resolve remained steadfast as you waited for his response, your demeanor unwavering and authoritative.

With a measured motion, you squeezed a generous amount of lube onto your hand, the slick, cool substance glistening under the soft illumination of the room. You stroked your silicone length with deliberate, smooth motions, the sensation sending a shiver of anticipation through you. The rhythmic motion of your hand was met with a shuddering breath from Jooyeon, his blindfolded eyes unable to witness the source of his torment.

"I'm sorry," he finally gasped, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. "I was sorry for breaking your rule. I—I was being a brat." His words were choked with a mixture of regret and desperation, the sound of his voice mingling with the slick sounds of your movements.

A satisfied hum escaped your lips, the sound a testament to his confession meeting your expectations. You applied another generous amount of lube, this time to your index and middle fingers, preparing them for what was to come. With a silent nod towards Jiseok, who eagerly complied, you watched as he spread his legs wide, presenting himself with an eager readiness that mirrored his excitement.

“Hmm,” you mused aloud, your fingers hovering tantalizingly close to Jiseok’s entrance. The anticipation in the room was palpable, a shimmering thread of tension binding everyone present. Jiseok quivered beneath you, his body trembling with eagerness, while Jooyeon, bound and blindfolded, writhed restlessly against the confines of his restraints.

Your fingers, poised with a deliberate slowness, lingered just at the edge of Jiseok’s entrance. The air was thick with expectancy, each breath drawn in sharp, shivering gasps. Jooyeon, his senses heightened by the blindfold, could only guess at what was to come. The sound of his shallow breathing and the restless shifting of his bound form spoke volumes of his eagerness.

“No,” Jooyeon’s voice was a desperate whisper, his head shaking in frantic agreement. “No, I won’t do it again.” His words came out in hurried breaths, a mixture of surrender and pleading lacing his tone. The intensity of his response was matched only by the fervent anticipation emanating from Jiseok, who continued to tremble beneath your careful touch.

Satisfied with Jooyeon's desperate response, you finally yielded to Jiseok’s eager pleas. Slowly, deliberately, you began to insert your index finger into Jiseok’s warm, inviting entrance. The sensation was exquisite, the tightness enveloping your finger as Jiseok emitted a guttural, primal moan that resonated with pure, unrestrained pleasure. You paused for a moment, allowing him to adjust to the intrusion, savoring the way his body tensed and then relaxed in response.

Your attention drifted to Jooyeon, who squirmed restlessly against the headboard, his hips lifting in a desperate, silent plea. The blindfold covering his eyes rendered him unaware of the intimate scene unfolding right before him, intensifying his frustration. A cruel, mocking smile curled on your lips as you watched his futile attempts to seek out the touch he craved so badly. His blindfolded eyes fluttered, and his body writhed in vain.

You began a slow, rhythmic motion, your finger moving in and out of Jiseok with deliberate care. Each thrust drew soft, breathy whimpers from Jiseok, turning him into a trembling mess of pleasure. Meanwhile, Jooyeon’s frustration grew palpable, his jealousy a stark contrast to the pleasure Jiseok was receiving. 

With a hint of mockery in your voice, you leaned closer to Jooyeon, who could only hear the sound of your voice and the relentless moans of Jiseok. “Aw, baby,” you cooed, dripping with sarcasm. “Did you really think I would give you what you wanted so easily after the stunt you pulled?” The tone of your voice was both taunting and authoritative, ensuring Jooyeon felt every ounce of the frustration you intended to impart.

Jooyeon finally broke the silence with a pitiful whine that seemed to escape from deep within him, the sound stretching and echoing through the room as if it had been held captive for an eternity. His hips shifted restlessly, seeking out your touch in vain, but he could only fumble in frustration, unable to find the relief he so desperately craved.

Meanwhile, you had slid your middle finger into Jiseok’s tight, welcoming entrance, the additional intrusion causing him to shudder in heightened ecstasy. His moans grew louder, more intense, each sound a testament to the pleasure you were bestowing upon him. The contrast between Jiseok’s blissful surrender and Jooyeon’s growing frustration was striking, almost painterly in its stark divergence. It was a tableau of sensory extremes that you found almost intoxicating—so vivid, so compelling that you wished you could etch it permanently behind your eyelids.

“That’s not fair!” Jooyeon’s voice pierced the air, slightly shriller than usual, laced with a mix of desperation and indignation. “I apologized! I apologized many times!” Even though the blindfold shielded his eyes, you could almost see the frustration etched into his features, the crinkle of his brows and the relentless squirming of his restrained body.

The room was filled with the slick, obscene sounds of your lubed fingers working within Jiseok, the rhythmic, wet noises a stark contrast to Jooyeon’s pained, futile attempts to find solace. Each sound seemed to amplify Jooyeon’s discomfort, his length twitching in response to the overwhelming mix of envy and unfulfilled desire. You could hardly contain a dark chuckle, your amusement palpable as you reveled in his distress, savoring the sight of his suffering as he continued to be left wanting.

Gradually, your gaze shifted towards Jiseok, who lay beneath you, flushed a deep, fervent crimson from the intensity of the minimal stimulation he had already received. His body was a canvas of shimmering sweat and eager anticipation. With a voice that was a gentle contrast to the sharpness you had shown Jooyeon, you asked, “Do you think you’re ready, baby? Can you take me now?”

Jiseok’s response was a frantic nod, his legs curling around your waist in a desperate attempt to draw you closer to where he craved you the most. His movements were filled with an urgency that matched his need. However, you pulled your fingers out of him with deliberate slowness, gently unlocking his legs from around you. His whimper of disappointment was almost a silent plea, a sound that tugged at the edges of your satisfaction.

You guided him onto his stomach with a soft, yet firm motion, his compliance immediate and obedient. As he settled beneath you, you draped yourself over his slick, heated body, savoring the intimate contact. To intensify Jooyeon’s torment, you carefully repositioned Jiseok’s hands so they gripped Jooyeon’s ankles, a gesture of silent command. The slight pressure you applied to his wrists was a clear, unspoken instruction to keep them firmly in place.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you finally pushed your strap into Jiseok’s yearning entrance. His moan, raw and unrestrained, was the loudest you had heard throughout the evening. The sound was a heady mix of pleasure and relief, and you had barely begun to move. The thought swelled your ego, a silent triumph that danced across your features as you watched Jooyeon’s escalating frustration.

Jooyeon thrashed against his restraints, his pleas and apologies, a chaotic blend of desperation. “It hurts,” he cried, his voice breaking with the weight of his need. “Please, it hurts so much. I’m sorry, please!” His incoherent babbling and fervent promises of never repeating his misstep only served to deepen your satisfaction, his desperation a stark contrast to the pleasure you were bestowing upon Jiseok.

After a lingering moment in which you savored the sight of Jooyeon collapsing under the weight of his own frustration, you decided to extend your reach. Your fingers, slick with remnants of dry lube, moved deliberately towards his aching, neglected length. The moment your hand made contact, Jooyeon released a relieved sob, his hips instinctively thrusting into your touch, desperate for the attention he had been deprived of for so long.

The sound of his reaction elicited a genuine chuckle from you, a soft contrast to the earlier cruelty that had colored your interactions. As you continued to stroke him, your touch infused with a tenderness that belied the harshness of the earlier moments, you felt a surge of genuine endearment towards him. You let the pace of your hips gradually quicken, each thrust causing Jiseok’s trembling form to jolt in sync, his moans and whimpers barely a murmur against the overwhelming symphony of pleasure filling the room.

The scene was intoxicating, a vivid tableau of sensual surrender and trust. Both of your lovers were lost in their own realms of ecstasy, unraveling completely at your touch. They lay exposed, their deepest vulnerabilities laid bare before you, their trust in you evident in their complete submission. It was an honor so profound that words would fail to capture its essence. Instead, you chose to express your appreciation through this intimate exchange, allowing them to reveal their rawest selves in the hope that you would tend to their needs with the care and devotion they craved.

Given the intensity of their prolonged arousal, it was no surprise when you felt Jooyeon’s length twitch uncontrollably, a testament to the desperate pleasure you were bestowing upon him. His whines and groans, long stifled, now spilled forth in a chorus of longing. Simultaneously, Jiseok’s moans grew more frequent and pitched, a high, trembling note of his own impending release. Both of them, on the precipice of their climax, were eagerly pushing their needy forms against you, their bodies seeking the final, elusive touch that would drive them to the edge.

The effort you were putting into their pleasure had begun to weigh on you, a dull ache settling into your muscles from the relentless movements. Yet, the sight and sounds of their need kept you going, your resolve unwavering as you continued to give them what they craved. The room was filled with the heady mix of their desperate cries and the rhythmic pace of your motions, a testament to the shared, mounting ecstasy.

It wasn’t long before their bodies surged against you in a final, coordinated dance towards release. Their moans crescendoed into prolonged, melodic expressions of pure bliss, a symphony of gratification that left both men trembling and breathless. As their climaxes unfolded, you gradually eased to a halt, your own breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. You pulled away from them slowly, allowing them to experience the last shudders of their aftershocks. The intimate silence that followed was filled with the echoes of their satisfaction, a profound testament to the intensity of the shared experience.

As your breaths gradually steadied and your heart rate returned to a more manageable pace, you surrendered to the softness of the mattress beneath you with a sigh of both exhaustion and profound contentment. The cool sheets brushed against your skin as you nestled into the plush surface, feeling the weight of the evening’s intensity finally lifting.

Jiseok, ever attentive and affectionate, immediately drew close to you, his warmth a comforting presence as he settled beside you. His gentle movements were accompanied by the soft clinking of handcuffs being released—your attention briefly drawn to Jooyeon as you freed him from his restraints. The momentary distraction quickly dissolved as Jooyeon, now liberated, nestled against your other side, creating a cocoon of shared intimacy.

You found yourself enveloped in the tender embrace of both men, their bodies pressing close to yours, forming a trio of intertwined warmth and affection. No words were necessary in this tranquil afterglow; the steady rhythm of three heartbeats aligning in a harmonious cadence spoke volumes. It was a silent testament to the deep bond you all shared, despite their penchant for testing your limits. In that quiet, blissful silence, the love between you thrived—unspoken yet undeniably profound.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

【 WWW.MINHOSBITTERRIVER.COM/NEWJEANS 】

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📨 REQUESTS ARE OPEN 📨 WORK COUNT: OO2 📨

NO SMUT FOR: Any of the members SUGGESTIVE OKAY FOR: Minji & Hanni

뉴진스 ── OT5. ( newjeans )

nothing yet, come back later!

김민지 ── KIM MINJI. ( minji )

nothing yet, come back later!

PHẠM NGỌC HÂN ── HANNI PHAM. ( hanni )

📹─────BLUE LEMONADE | 5.5K — ONE-SHOT | a chance meeting over a blue lemonade at a coffee shop sparks an awkward crush, culminating in a rainy-day confession that transforms your timid connection into the start of something new as you walk to school together. (GENDER NEUTRAL READER) REQUESTED

모지혜 ── MO JIHYE. ( danielle )

nothing yet, come back later!

강해린 ── KANG HAERIN. ( haerin )

nothing yet, come back later!

이혜인 ── LEE HYEIN. ( hyein )

📹─────THROUGH MY EYES | 2.9K — ONE-SHOT | in a quiet moment beneath the shade of an oak tree, you and hyein discover the depth of your love for each other through a heartfelt drawing that captures the beauty you see in hyein’s soul, leading to your first tender confessions. (FEMALE READER) REQUESTED

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

© MINHOSBITTERRIVER | do not plagiarize, repost or translate my works on this platform or any others.

Thank you so much 🥺🫶

☔️ BLUE LEMONADE ( newjeans )

❛ A chance meeting over a blue lemonade at a coffee shop sparks an awkward crush, culminating in a rainy-day confession that transforms your timid connection into the start of something new as you walk to school together.

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐦 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 22 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Say hello to my very first girl group request (made by the lovely @dgybbvrcsacgswtcbkyv)! And honestly my first published girl group piece in general! Hopefully more will be posted soon! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: High School AU, Strangers-to-Crushes, Y/N works at a coffee shop in the mornings before school, Hanni is the school's popular girl, they're both painfully awkward and a little dorky, Y/N gets ghosted for two days, Y/N is implied to be a bit taller than Hanni, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

The first light of dawn had only just begun to stretch across the city when you found yourself tucked behind the counter of a quaint coffee shop, the scent of freshly ground beans swirling around you. The world outside was still waking, the streets bathed in the soft glow of early morning, with only a few souls braving the chill air. It was a quiet hour, the kind that allowed your thoughts to drift as you worked, hands moving almost on their own as you prepared each steaming cup.

It was in this serene moment that the melodic voice of Hanni Pham cut through the stillness, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "Aren’t you from my school?" she asked, her tone curious yet soft, as if the question itself carried the weight of familiarity. 

Startled, you looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you met her gaze. There she stood, the popular girl everyone knew, her presence commanding the small space. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her face, and her eyes, bright and inquisitive, were fixed on you. 

You had always admired Hanni from afar, her warmth and kindness setting her apart from the rest, but in this unexpected encounter, you couldn’t help but brace yourself for the worst. The echoes of cruel laughter from your peers lingered in your mind, and despite knowing that Hanni wasn’t like the others, a part of you feared that she might still find a way to mock you, just as so many others had done before.

Yet, as you stood there, words caught in your throat, you realized that the girl before you seemed genuinely interested, her expression free of malice. There was no hint of the cruelty you had grown accustomed to; only the simple, honest curiosity of someone who recognized you and wished to connect.

You watch her through the veil of your lashes, barely daring to breathe as you hum in response to her question. The gentle sound of your confirmation seems to light up Hanni’s face, and you find yourself captivated by the way her smile widens, a warmth blooming in her eyes that seems to chase away the lingering shadows of the early morning.

“That’s so cool,” she murmurs, her voice soft and almost reverent as she takes in the cozy atmosphere of the café. The sincerity in her words takes you by surprise, and before you can stop it, a faint blush rises to your cheeks, your heart fluttering in a way that’s both unfamiliar and strangely comforting.

Gathering the courage to speak, you mumble, “What can I get you?” The words are barely above a whisper, your anxiety weaving them into a quiet melody that seems to float between you. Yet, despite your hushed tone, Hanni hears you, her gaze shifting to the menu hanging above you as she ponders her choice.

Her cheeks puff out slightly as she thinks, a gesture so endearing that it momentarily distracts you from your own nerves. You can’t help but notice the way her fingers fidget with the straps of her backpack, a subtle sign of her own anxiety. Somehow, seeing this small vulnerability in her makes you feel a little more at ease, as if you’re not the only one grappling with uncertainty in this unexpected moment.

“I’d like a lemon poppy seed muffin,” Hanni finally decides, her voice breaking the quiet. You quickly enter her order into the register, your fingers moving almost automatically as you try to steady your racing thoughts. Just as you’re about to hand her the receipt, she speaks again, her next question catching you off guard.

“What cold drink would be good with the muffin? There are so many options here that I wouldn’t know where to even start,” she admits with a light laugh, her eyes meeting yours once more.

The question hangs in the air, and for a moment, you’re at a loss for words. But then, you realize she’s genuinely seeking your opinion, and the thought fills you with a quiet sense of responsibility, as though this small decision is more important than it seems.

You take a moment to consider her question, the weight of her expectant gaze making your heart flutter. After a brief pause, you finally gather the courage to speak, your voice soft but sincere. “Well, I personally am a fan of the blue lemonades we have here. It’d pair well with the muffin.”

The morning light seems to dance in Hanni’s gentle eyes as she listens, her smile widening with a warmth that feels like the sun’s first embrace. She nods, her decision made with an easy grace that makes your chest tighten in the best possible way. “Well, then please add a blue lemonade to my order,” she says, her tone filled with a sweetness that lingers in the air like the scent of freshly baked pastries.

You nod, feeling a sense of quiet satisfaction as you prepare her drink, the task becoming almost meditative under the soft glow of her attention. The way she watches you, so trusting and kind, makes you want to do everything just right, to ensure that her experience is as lovely as she is.

When you finally hand her the cool, vibrant blue lemonade, the smile that spreads across her face as she takes the first sip is nothing short of enchanting. There’s a delightful hum that escapes her lips, a sound of pure contentment that resonates in the small space between you, and it’s all you can do to keep your composure.

Even as you clock out and begin your walk toward school, the memory of that moment clings to you like a cherished melody. You can still see her, bathed in the soft morning light, savoring the drink you had carefully prepared. The image of her satisfied smile and the gentle hum of approval replay over and over in your mind, a loop of warmth and wonder.

As you walk, you can’t help but marvel at how someone could possess such an infectious gentleness, a quality that seemed to radiate from her in waves, touching everything around her with its light. It leaves you pondering the possibilities of what it would be like to know her better, to be in the presence of someone who carries such precious warmth within them.

Throughout the day, you caught fleeting glimpses of Hanni as she navigated the bustling corridors of the school, her presence commanding attention without effort. She moved with a graceful ease, surrounded by the usual throngs of admirers and friends, her laughter a melodic thread that wove through the cacophony of voices. It was nothing out of the ordinary—just Hanni being the bright, beloved figure she always was.

But then there was that moment. A moment that took you by surprise, slipping into your day like a whispered secret. Seeking refuge from the noise and chaos of school life, you had retreated to your usual hiding spot behind the school building. It was a place technically off-limits, a secluded nook that offered a rare pocket of silence, where you could steal a few precious moments to yourself. Despite the risk to your perfect record, the solace it provided was worth it, and so you continued to visit, cloaked in the comfort of your solitary sanctuary.

Unbeknownst to you, Hanni had spotted you slipping away and, driven by a quiet curiosity, decided to follow. You were completely unaware of her presence until you looked up to find her standing there, her figure framed by the soft light filtering through the trees. She smiled down at you with that same kind, gentle glint in her eyes, the warmth of her expression melting away the edges of your solitude.

Caught off guard, you felt your heart race as you struggled to find something—anything—to say. Your hiding spot, once a bubble of safety and comfort, suddenly felt exposed under her gaze. Yet, there was no judgment in her eyes, only a serene interest that made you feel oddly understood, as if she, too, sought moments of quiet in a world that never seemed to slow down.

As she approached, your thoughts wavered, torn between wanting her to stay and wishing to retreat back into the silence that had been your companion. But before you could resolve the conflict in your heart, the moment was interrupted. Hanni’s name rang out from across the courtyard, one of her friends calling her back to the lively world she inhabited.

For a brief second, Hanni hesitated, her gaze lingering on you. Then, with a timid wave and another one of those radiant smiles that seemed to light up the air around her, she turned and rejoined her friends, leaving you alone once more. But even as she walked away, the flutter in your chest remained, a gentle echo of the unexpected encounter that left you wondering what might have been had she stayed just a little longer.

You had initially assumed that Hanni’s sudden interest in you, sparked by that brief encounter at the coffee shop, would fade into a distant memory by the next day. It seemed impossible that someone like her would remember you, let alone seek you out again. So when the gentle chime of the bell above the door signaled the arrival of a new customer, you had no reason to expect anything out of the ordinary.

But as you turned your attention from the old, well-worn coffee machine to the door, your breath caught in your throat. There she was, Hanni Pham, her presence as radiant as the morning light spilling through the windows. Her bright eyes locked onto yours, and her smile—so warm, so familiar—seemed to light up the entire room. In that instant, you froze, your mind struggling to process the reality of her standing there, just as it had the day before.

For a moment, you could only stare, wide-eyed and motionless, as she patiently waited for you to finish preparing the coffee for the customer before her. Her unwavering gaze held a kindness that made your heart skip a beat, and by the time you moved back behind the cash register, your hands were trembling, betraying the nervous excitement bubbling within you.

“Hi again,” she greeted you with a polite bow, her voice carrying a surprising cheerfulness that contrasted sharply with your own weary state. There was no trace of the exhaustion you felt from the early morning hours, only an infectious energy that made it impossible not to smile in return.

Despite your nerves, a timid smile found its way to your lips as you mirrored her bow, your heart fluttering at the sight of the school’s most popular girl standing before you once more. Hanni’s presence seemed to fill the space around her with a brightness that made everything else fade into the background, and as you met her gaze again, the familiar sensation of your pulse quickening reminded you just how deeply her unexpected attention affected you. 

“Hello,” you managed to reply, though your voice was softer than you intended, a reflection of the sudden shyness that had taken hold of you. There was a slight tremor in your words, a delicate vulnerability that felt impossible to hide. “Welcome back. What can I get for you today?”

Hanni’s smile remained unwavering, a warm, gentle curve that seemed to carry the morning’s light within it. You couldn’t help but notice how the early sunrays, filtering through the shop’s windows, wrapped around her figure like an ethereal halo, casting her in a soft, almost angelic glow. It was as if the world conspired to make her appear even more enchanting, and you found yourself momentarily lost in the quiet radiance she brought with her.

“Yesterday’s muffin was delicious,” she began, her voice as sweet as the treats you served. “But my favorite was the blue lemonade you suggested. So I came back to order it again.” Her words were simple, yet the sincerity in her tone made your heart flutter. As she stepped closer to the counter, resting her elbows on the surface and cupping her cheeks with a childlike charm, you felt a warmth spread through your chest.

The proximity between you suddenly felt too close and yet not close enough, creating a dry lump in your throat that you struggled to swallow. Her presence was almost overwhelming, an intoxicating mix of kindness and curiosity that left you feeling exposed. You nodded timidly, your fingers moving to enter her order into the cash register, though your mind was a flurry of emotions that threatened to unravel your calm facade.

The price of her order tumbled out of your mouth in a hurried, tangled mess, your voice betraying the nervousness that had taken root within you. Desperate to escape the intensity of her gaze, you quickly turned your back to her, focusing all your attention on preparing her drink. The simple task became a lifeline, something to anchor you as you navigated the storm of feelings that her presence had stirred up.

Even as you busied yourself with the routine motions of mixing the drink, you couldn’t shake the awareness of Hanni standing just a few feet away. Her energy filled the space between you, a subtle yet undeniable force that pulled at the edges of your composure. You wondered if she could sense the effect she had on you, if she noticed the way your hands trembled slightly as you worked. And as you prepared her blue lemonade, you couldn’t help but feel that this small, shared moment was something more—something significant that neither of you fully understood yet.

Eventually, you mustered the courage to turn and face her, offering a shy smile as you gently placed her order onto the counter. Hanni hadn’t moved from her spot, still resting her elbows on the counter, her face delicately cradled in her hands. There was a peculiar sense of intrigue in her gaze, a quiet curiosity that sent your heart into a sudden, uneven rhythm. The way she watched you, as if you were the most fascinating thing in the room, made it nearly impossible to meet her eyes.

With a polite bow, you expressed your gratitude for her purchase, though your voice felt small under the weight of her attention. But Hanni didn’t move, her fingers tightening slightly around the paper bag that held her breakfast, a subtle sign of nervousness that mirrored your own. You tried to focus on anything else, but the magnetic pull of her presence was inescapable.

As the silence stretched between you, curiosity finally got the better of you, and you hesitantly looked up, wondering if there was something more she wanted. But the sight that greeted you left you breathless—a soft gasp escaping your lips as your eyes fell on the small daisy held delicately in her free hand. The sight of it was unexpected, and yet it felt like a small, precious gift, laden with unspoken meaning.

Hanni’s cheeks were tinged with a delightful shade of crimson, her flustered expression revealing a vulnerability that only endeared her to you more. There was something so sincere, so utterly charming about the way she stood there, clearly uncertain but still daring enough to offer this simple token.

Before you could find the words to respond, Hanni quickly placed the daisy on the counter, her movements rushed and clumsy, as if she were caught in a whirlwind of emotions. And just as swiftly as she’d offered the flower, she turned and hurried out of the store, her departure leaving you standing there in a daze, the tiny daisy resting between you as the only evidence of the moment you’d just shared.

As you stared at the delicate flower, a smile slowly spread across your face, the warmth of the encounter lingering long after Hanni had gone. There was a quiet magic in that brief exchange, something that left your heart fluttering with possibilities you hadn’t dared to imagine before.

The delicate petals of the daisy, left thoughtfully on the counter, held your gaze as you turned it over in your fingers. It seemed to have been plucked from someone's garden, its simplicity making the gesture all the more touching. A warmth spread through your chest, swelling your heart with a mix of surprise and quiet joy. You couldn't help but giggle softly, the sound escaping as you replayed the moment in your mind—the timid way Hanni had offered the flower, her usual composure replaced by an endearing awkwardness.

It felt almost surreal to think of Hanni Pham, the girl admired by so many, standing before you in such a flustered state. At school, she was always the picture of confidence, effortlessly navigating the throngs of students who adored her. Yet here she was, reduced to nervousness by something as simple as a daisy. The contrast was striking, and it made the encounter feel all the more intimate, like you had glimpsed a side of her that few others ever saw.

As your shift came to an end, you reluctantly changed into your school uniform, your thoughts still lingering on the unexpected exchange. Carefully, you slipped the daisy into the front pocket of your shirt, feeling its gentle weight against your heart. The thought of seeing Hanni again at school filled you with a mix of anticipation and hope. Perhaps she would notice the flower in your pocket, and understand just how much you appreciated her sweet, unspoken message.

But as the day wore on and you wandered the familiar hallways, your eyes scanning the crowds, a sense of disappointment began to creep in. No matter where you looked, Hanni was nowhere to be found. The absence of her bright smile and warm presence left you feeling strangely empty, as if a small but significant part of your day was missing. And as the hours passed, you couldn't help but wonder if the moment you'd shared had meant as much to her as it had to you, or if it had simply been a fleeting gesture, lost in the flow of time.

Two days had slipped by since Hanni Pham last stepped into the cozy coffee shop where you worked, and though she had only visited twice before, her absence was keenly felt. A quiet sense of disappointment settled over you, mingled with confusion at the sudden shift between you. What had changed? Had you somehow messed up her lemonade in your nervousness the last time she was there? The thought nagged at you, as did the unsettling possibility that her visits had been part of some cruel joke—a way for her and her friends to laugh at your awkwardness.

Yet, despite these doubts, the daisy she left behind held your skepticism at bay. It was a simple, delicate thing, but it had spoken volumes—a gesture that seemed too genuine to be part of any prank. The memory of that moment, her flustered expression and the way she had hurried out of the shop, kept replaying in your mind, offering a glimmer of hope amidst your uncertainty. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to her visits than met the eye.

Since then, you had crossed paths with Hanni a few times, though each encounter was more awkward than the last. Every time your eyes met across the school grounds, a flush would creep up her cheeks, and she would quickly avert her gaze before hurrying off, leaving you standing there with a mix of bewilderment and curiosity. It was as if the daisy had created an invisible thread between you, a connection that neither of you fully understood yet couldn’t ignore. And as the days passed, you couldn’t help but wonder what had really changed, and whether that fragile thread would ever be strengthened—or if it would simply unravel, leaving you with nothing but the memory of a fleeting smile and a flower wilting in your pocket.

You found yourself staring through the large windows of the coffee shop, eyes narrowed at the relentless downpour outside. The rain fell in heavy sheets, turning the world beyond the glass into a blur of gray and silver. The day had begun with a slight humidity hanging in the air, a remnant of the previous night's showers. You'd assumed that as the hours passed, the weather would warm, and the clouds would part. Yet here you were, watching as the rain refused to let up, silently cursing yourself for not bringing an umbrella—just in case.

Frustration simmered within you as you glanced toward your sleepy boss, who was slowly shuffling through receipts at the counter. Hope flickered briefly as you approached him, thinking perhaps he might have a spare umbrella stashed away somewhere—something to shield you from the impending drenching on your walk to school. But when he looked up at you with a pitiful expression, his lips forming a small, regretful frown, your heart sank. The unspoken words hung between you: there was no umbrella, no shelter from the storm.

The realization settled over you like a damp fog, and your shoulders slumped in resignation. You would be forced to face the harsh rain, its cold fingers reaching for you the moment you stepped outside. The thought of trudging through the downpour, schoolbag clutched protectively to your chest, sent a wave of irritation coursing through you. Yet, beneath that frustration, a quiet resolve began to form. You could handle a little rain, even if it meant arriving at school soaked to the bone. The day, after all, had to go on, and so would you—even if it meant battling the elements on your own.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the discomfort awaiting you—a day where your clothes would cling to you like a second skin, soaked through with rainwater. The thought of spending hours in a wet uniform, cold and miserable, while enduring the stares of your classmates made your stomach twist with dread. There was no escaping it now, though, and no one to blame but yourself for not being wise enough to carry an umbrella, despite the unpredictable weather.

As you stepped out onto the slick sidewalk, the rain assaulted you immediately, each droplet stinging like a million tiny needles against your skin. You broke into a brisk jog, your feet splashing through puddles as you hurried toward the school. The dark clouds above loomed ominously, their wrath evident in the relentless downpour that showed no signs of relenting.

Clutching your backpack tightly to your chest, you bowed your head low in a futile attempt to shield your belongings from the soaking rain. The chill of the wet fabric seeped through your uniform, clinging to your body uncomfortably, making every movement a reminder of your unfortunate situation. With each step, the wetness seeped deeper, the cold tightening its grip on you as you pushed forward, determined to reach the relative shelter of the school as quickly as possible.

A torrent of curses swirled in your mind as you hurried through the relentless downpour, your drenched hair constantly slipping into your eyes, obstructing your vision. Each time you swiped it away, the rain would only force it back, a ceaseless battle that left you increasingly frustrated. Your breath came in ragged, exhausted pants, and with each step, a wave of pure misery washed over you as you realized just how much further you still had to go before reaching the safety of your school. The thought alone was enough to make your heart sink even deeper into despair.

Then, as if the universe had decided to offer you a sliver of mercy, you heard a voice—a familiar one—shout your name from behind. Startled, you nearly stumbled, your momentum causing you to skid to a halt as you spun around, searching for the source of the call. You didn't know who it could be, but you certainly hadn't expected to see Hanni Pham, completely dry under the shelter of a bright blue umbrella, sprinting toward you with surprising speed.

Her cheeks were flushed, though you quickly rationalized that it must have been from her running. You stood there, drenched and slightly bewildered, as she closed the distance between you, your heart racing—not just from the physical exertion but from the unexpected sight of her. Hesitantly, you waited, unsure of what to expect, as she caught up to you, her presence like a beacon of unexpected warmth in the cold, miserable rain.

Hanni reached out clumsily, her hand gripping your shoulder as she stumbled, nearly colliding with you in her haste to stop. She barely managed to avoid knocking you over, her breath coming in short, labored gasps as she tried to regain her balance. The umbrella she held hovered above the two of you, offering a small but much-needed refuge from the relentless rain. You couldn’t help but release a relieved sigh, though you had to hunch down slightly to fit under the cover, given her shorter stature. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, you tried your best to ignore the maddening flutter of your heart caused by her unexpected kindness.

While you were grateful for her sudden appearance, a mild irritation simmered beneath the surface. It had been two days since Hanni had seemingly vanished from your life after being so unexpectedly kind toward you. And now, here she was, as if nothing had happened. To you, it didn’t matter that, according to the unspoken rules of your high school’s social hierarchy, someone as beloved and popular as Hanni Pham wasn’t supposed to be seen interacting with someone like you, someone considered so low on that very same ladder. You were well aware of the invisible barriers meant to keep your worlds apart, but in that moment, none of it mattered.

What did matter was the fact that Hanni had, of her own volition, turned your plain and awkward interactions into something else when she plucked a daisy and left it for you at the coffee shop, her cheeks ablaze with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t fair for her to initiate such a change and then leave you hanging, avoiding you as if nothing had happened. As Hanni finally straightened her posture, catching her breath and seemingly ready to speak, she was met with your carefully guarded but unmistakably annoyed expression. You regarded her with a mix of curiosity and frustration, waiting for the explanation you felt you deserved.

Despite the chilly edge in your gaze, Hanni made an effort to appear nonchalant. Her laughter, though light, betrayed a tremor of nervousness as she twirled the ends of her slightly damp hair around her finger. Even in your state of irritation, you found yourself inexplicably charmed by the sight of her. Her eyes, despite the oppressive gray clouds and relentless rain, sparkled with a warmth reminiscent of the gentle morning sun that would occasionally filter through the coffee shop's windows, casting a soft, inviting glow.

You maintain your composure, raising a single eyebrow at her as she fumbles to address the situation. “Uh, it’s a good thing I spotted you and had my umbrella,” she murmured, her voice nearly swallowed by the cacophony of rain. The casualness in her tone only served to heighten your irritation. It was clear she wanted to gloss over the fact that she had vanished for two days without a word, and you were determined not to let her do so. 

With a hint of measured annoyance, you replied, “It’s good to see you again, Hanni.”

Her reaction was immediate—an almost imperceptible wince at the subtle bite in your voice. For the first time since her transfer to your school, you saw her frown, and the sight of it struck you with a pang of guilt. The weight of knowing you were the cause of that rare expression was almost suffocating. Yet, despite the tug of empathy in your chest, you knew you had to stand firm. You weren’t someone to be manipulated or dismissed, and you refused to be treated as a mere pawn in whatever game she might have been playing.

"I noticed you kept the flower I gave you in your front pocket all day," she began softly, her gaze fixed on the wet pavement as if seeking comfort in its familiarity. "It looked really nice." Her words were barely above a whisper, and you responded with a half-hearted hum, trying to ignore the rapid fluttering of your heart. Hanni let out a quiet, defeated sigh as she finally summoned the courage to meet your unyielding gaze. "Look, I panicked, okay?"

Her sudden confession caught you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise as your lips parted slightly. A deep crimson blush crept up her cheeks, but despite the embarrassment, she held her gaze steady, even as her hands trembled while keeping the umbrella positioned over both of you, shielding you from the relentless downpour. "You’ll probably think I’m some crazy stalker, but here goes: I’ve had this silly little crush on you for the past year, and it all started one Saturday while you were working. I just stood there, watching you do your thing. You have this kind and soft smile that really caught my attention. And I promise, I wasn’t following you or anything, but after that, I just kept seeing you everywhere. You’re so quiet, and I really wanted to get closer to you. 

"One day, I decided I’d try sitting with you at lunch, but you kept disappearing somewhere, and I could never find you. So, I kind of gave up for a while. Then, the other day, I forgot to eat breakfast and ended up stopping by your shop, not even knowing you worked there in the mornings. And, well, the next day, I stupidly gave you that flower out of nowhere, and then I just got really embarrassed. I couldn’t look at you after that because I was so sure you thought I was some weirdo or something. And maybe I was because I kept watching you from afar, hiding, and I noticed you were looking for me in all the places I usually hung out. But I still couldn’t bring myself to come out. Until today."

Hanni inhaled deeply as she concluded her startling confession, her chest rising and falling with the weight of words she had kept bottled up for so long. It dawned on you that she hadn’t taken a single breath as she rambled on, pouring out her heart without pause. You stood there, stunned, as her words echoed in your mind, causing a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts to spiral within you. 

You struggled to make sense of it all, your mind racing back through the year’s memories, searching for any sign that might have hinted at her feelings. But try as you might, you couldn’t recall a single instance where Hanni had paid you any mind. All this time, you had believed you were invisible to her, just another face in the crowd, irrelevant in the bright, popular world she inhabited. The realization that you had been wrong, that she had noticed you all along, was a revelation you never expected—certainly not now, and certainly not like this.

Of course, you had always found Hanni intriguing. There was something about her that drew your gaze whenever she was near, a quiet magnetism that you could never fully explain. But you had kept your distance, never daring to imagine that your paths would ever truly cross. It was safer that way, you thought—to admire her from afar, to keep her at the edges of your thoughts, a fleeting presence that you could easily dismiss. That was, until she walked into the coffee shop where you worked for the first time, shattering the careful distance you had maintained.

You couldn't help but feel a wave of fondness wash over you as you observed Hanni, her wide eyes filled with anticipation, brows furrowed in a mix of worry and hope. The frown that lingered on her lips tugged at your heartstrings, and despite the frustration you’d felt moments ago, your resolve began to crumble. Slowly, a warm smile spread across your face, softening the tension that had hung between you.

“You’re so silly, you know that?” you teased, letting out a light giggle as you playfully poked her cheek. The irritation you’d held onto melted away, replaced by the warmth of the moment.

Hanni let out a sigh of relief, her own giggle bubbling up to join yours. The sound was contagious, and you found yourself laughing along with her, the earlier awkwardness dissolving into the gentle rhythm of your shared laughter.

“Let’s walk to school together, yeah?” you asked, your voice tender and inviting. You could hardly contain the surge of affection that welled up inside you when Hanni’s entire face lit up in response. Her eyes sparkled with a happiness that was impossible to miss, and she nodded vigorously, her excitement palpable.

Without another word, the two of you turned to walk side by side, the rain now a mere backdrop to the warmth that blossomed between you. For the first time, you found yourselves heading to school together, a quiet sense of joy settling into the space you shared.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

well, today in particular i just saw that you were responding to me rather quickly, and i didn’t want to be rude and leave you hanging, so i’ve been constantly checking. also it’s daytime for me right now so i’m not like getting up in the middle of the night or anything.

also like i’ve said i enjoy chatting with you!! sorry if that’s weird😭

- 🍀

Wait! I promise it’s not rude at all to leave me waiting 😭 Especially because I know you’re in a busy time in your life right now, and besides I know other people have stuff to do. Please don’t feel like you have to answer immediately but I’m also glad that it’s not the middle of the night where you are, so I feel a little less guilty LMAO It’s literally like 3AM here but I don’t ever sleep apparently

And it’s not weird at all, the feeling is very much mutual okay 😭 I’m just happy you think the same way 🫶

SIDE NOTE: So I have a separate Docs where I write down a more detailed list of requests I have and where I also just messily jot down my ideas for each of them, and I was copying your newer requests there just now and I realized that in your threesome request you mentioned someone having an oral fixation? But I’m not sure who you meant, O.de or Junhan? LOL I’m sorry if I just completely missed it, but I wanted to make sure!