–Palestinian Poet And Editor Of Mizna, George Abraham.

💻 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( enhypen )

❛ In which you’re the idol and they’re your fanboys.

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 12.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ You guys should know that I am a firm believer that these boys would be so dorky if they weren't idols — well, dorkier than they already are, honestly. This piece was requested by a lovely Anon! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! Please enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N is an idol, the members of Enhypen are your fanboys finally getting you to acknowledge their existence one way or another, it's all just very cute honestly, Jungwon and Riki don't meet you in person but they still lose their minds over it, let me know if I missed anything!

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

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

All of the members are found below the cut!

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG.

Heeseung sat at the edge of his bed, the dim light casting a gentle glow upon his contemplative figure. His fingers, delicate yet reverent, traced the edges of the well-worn scrapbook that lay open before him. This cherished volume, a tapestry of memories meticulously compiled over the years, held within its pages a mosaic of his unwavering admiration. It brimmed with a kaleidoscope of photographs, clippings, and handwritten notes, each piece meticulously documenting the journey of his favorite idol—none other than you.

He recalled the precise moment when his world had been irrevocably altered. It was on the eve of your debut, and there, amid the swirling anticipation and the haze of his youthful excitement, your voice had first reached his ears. It was a sound both ethereal and powerful, a melody that wove itself into the very fabric of his being. From that instant, Heeseung was ensnared by the magnetism of your presence. He had watched, spellbound, as you evolved from a burgeoning talent into a celebrated artist, each phase of your journey captured and immortalized within the pages of his scrapbook.

Tonight was imbued with a sense of magic and anticipation that seemed almost palpable. Heeseung, a dreamer in the truest sense, had finally managed to secure a coveted ticket to your fan meeting—a wish he had harbored fervently since the inception of his admiration for you. The moment was the culmination of countless hopes and whispered promises to himself.

As he navigated his way through the bustling streets toward the venue, his heart danced with a symphony of excitement and nervous energy. Each step felt like a step toward a long-awaited destiny, a convergence of past dreams and present reality. The evening air was crisp, carrying with it the faint murmur of fellow fans, their voices mingling in a harmonious chorus of shared anticipation.

Clutching his treasured scrapbook tightly, as though it were a talisman of his devotion, Heeseung took a steadying breath. The pages within were a testament to his journey alongside yours, a journey now culminating in this singular, momentous occasion. He joined the serpentine line of eager fans, each person a reflection of his own fervent longing, all awaiting the cherished moment when they would come face-to-face with you.

The room vibrated with a palpable energy, a living, breathing entity fueled by the collective enthusiasm of the gathered fans. Conversations swirled like a vibrant tapestry of shared experiences and heartfelt recollections, each voice contributing to the rich symphony of admiration that filled the air.

In this dynamic atmosphere, Heeseung, a seasoned devotee whose affection for you had long been unwavering, naturally assumed the role of storyteller. His presence was a comforting beacon for the newer fans, a guide through the labyrinth of your artistic journey. With an air of gentle authority, he began weaving tales of your early days, his voice imbued with a warmth that spoke of deep, personal connection.

He unfolded his beloved scrapbook with reverent care, revealing its pages one by one. Each page was a canvas of nostalgia, adorned with a mosaic of photos capturing the essence of your first performance, the raw, unguarded moments during concerts, and the newspaper clippings that chronicled your ascent to stardom. The images told a story of transformation and triumph, each snapshot a frozen moment of time that illustrated your remarkable rise. As Heeseung shared these treasures, his eyes sparkled with the joy of reminiscing, his words painting a vivid portrait of your evolution that captivated the newer fans, drawing them into the rich tapestry of your shared history.

When the moment arrived for Heeseung to finally meet you, his heart pounded with a fervent rhythm, echoing the excitement that surged through his veins. As he stepped forward, the world seemed to narrow down to the singular focus of your radiant presence.

You looked up from behind the table, your eyes brightening with a warm, welcoming smile that seemed to illuminate the room. The recognition in your gaze was immediate and profound, as your eyes fell upon the familiar scrapbook cradled in his hands. The tender acknowledgment in your expression conveyed an unspoken connection, bridging the gap between your storied past and this intimate, cherished encounter.

"Hello," Heeseung began, his voice carrying a steady confidence that belied the fluttering butterflies in his stomach. The words emerged with a sincere warmth, as if each syllable was carefully crafted to convey the depth of his feelings.

"I’m Heeseung," he continued, offering a small, genuine smile. "I’ve been a devoted fan since your very debut." His gaze lingered on you, revealing in his eyes the unwavering admiration and respect that had grown with each passing year.

Your eyes traveled over the scrapbook, a look of genuine awe and recognition crossing your face. The corners of your mouth lifted in an appreciative smile as you took the cherished book from Heeseung’s hands.

"Wow, Heeseung, this is truly incredible," you remarked, your voice infused with admiration. You began to gently turn the pages, each delicate motion revealing the meticulously curated moments of your journey. "You've captured every detail with such care," you continued, your fingers brushing over the images and notes. The sincerity in your tone spoke volumes, reflecting not only your gratitude but also the profound impact of his devotion.

Heeseung nodded, a proud and heartfelt smile unfolding across his face. The expression was a testament to his deep appreciation and respect for you, his admiration evident in every line of his features.

"You’ve been an immense source of inspiration to me," he began, his voice rich with emotion. "Witnessing your growth and the way you've triumphed over challenges has been a beacon of hope during my own difficult times. I wanted to ensure that other fans could share in that journey as well." His words carried the weight of genuine gratitude, reflecting the profound impact your perseverance and success had on his life.

You lifted your gaze from the scrapbook, your eyes meeting his with a depth of sincerity that spoke volumes. The warmth in your expression was a gentle reflection of the gratitude swelling within you.

"Thank you, Heeseung," you said softly, your voice imbued with heartfelt emotion. "Your support means more to me than words can express. It's dedicated fans like you who make all the effort and hard work truly worthwhile." The weight of your words hung in the air, a testament to the profound connection between an artist and the cherished individuals who help sustain their passion.

As you delicately signed your name on the scrapbook, Heeseung felt a surge of gratitude and profound fulfillment wash over him. The ink of your signature seemed to crystallize the moment, transforming his dreams into a tangible reality.

Meeting you and hearing those heartfelt words had surpassed even his most cherished aspirations. The realization that his steadfast support had made a meaningful impact on your journey was a treasure he would hold close to his heart. It was a moment of deep resonance, one that would linger with him as a cherished memory, a testament to the power of unwavering devotion and connection.

As Heeseung exited the venue, a radiant smile stretched across his face, one that seemed to capture the essence of his joy. The thrill of the evening lingered like a warm embrace, and he found himself buoyed by a sense of deep contentment.

He knew that his commitment to supporting you would remain steadfast, unwavering through every trial and triumph. The thought of sharing your story with new fans and enriching his cherished scrapbook with fresh memories filled him with a profound sense of purpose. The acknowledgment of his dedication had bestowed upon him a moment of rare significance—one that he would hold dear, a luminous beacon of inspiration to treasure for a lifetime.

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG.

Jay fidgeted with his earbuds, delicately positioning them as he allowed your music to wash over him, a soothing cascade of sound that enveloped his senses. The anticipation in the cool night air was palpable, a faint electric hum that seemed to dance through the crowd gathered outside the concert venue. Each note, each lyric was a comforting balm as he stood in line, his excitement palpable and nearly tangible.

He had waited for this night with bated breath, the days leading up to it marked with eager anticipation and a fervent excitement that had grown since he first secured his ticket. The prospect of witnessing your live performance was a thrill that had consumed him for months. Jay was not the kind of fan to lose himself in fervent adoration; rather, he embraced a more laid-back dedication. His passion manifested in the quiet diligence of streaming your songs and videos, ensuring that your place atop the charts remained steadfast.

His dedication went beyond mere listening; it extended to the art of maximizing streaming efforts. Jay found a certain joy in sharing his knowledge, guiding fellow fans on how to elevate their own streaming practices. For him, each play and each view was a small, yet significant tribute to your artistry, a testament to the role he played in the symphony of your success.

The anticipation in the crowd was almost electric, a current that seemed to weave through the throngs of eager fans, sparking whispers and hushed conversations. Jay, however, exuded an aura of tranquility, his outward calm a stark contrast to the vibrant energy that rippled around him. Beneath his serene exterior, his excitement simmered, a deep well of anticipation that kept him composed.

As the doors to the concert venue finally swung open, it was as if a collective breath was held, only to be released in a surge of movement. Jay stepped forward with purposeful strides, navigating the sea of enthusiastic fans until he reached his seat. It was perfectly positioned, offering an unobstructed view of the stage where the night’s magic would soon unfold.

The atmosphere inside was a palpable buzz of exhilaration, a harmonious blend of voices and laughter that filled the space with a symphony of excitement. Fans exchanged gleeful glances and shared snippets of their own anticipation, their voices blending into a crescendo of collective joy. The air was thick with the promise of the performance to come, and Jay, nestled in his prime spot, allowed himself to bask in the electric ambiance, savoring the moment before the music began.

As the lights in the arena dimmed, a hushed reverence fell over the crowd, a moment suspended in breathless anticipation. The first ethereal notes of your opening song began to ripple through the space, a delicate wave of sound that immediately swept Jay into its embrace. The thrill of excitement surged through him like a living pulse, a vibrant crescendo that was both exhilarating and profound.

Experiencing you live was a revelation, an intoxicating contrast to the solitary pleasure of streaming your videos at home. The raw energy of the performance, the sheer magnetism of your presence on stage, transformed the music into a living, breathing entity that resonated deep within him. Jay was no longer just a spectator; he was an integral part of the spectacle.

He became fully immersed in the experience, his voice blending seamlessly with the chorus of fellow fans, each note of the song drawing him further into the enchanting world you created. His lightstick, a beacon of glowing color, moved rhythmically in tandem with the sea of lights around him, a pulsating testament to the collective euphoria that enveloped the arena. The moment was a symphony of sight and sound, a vivid tapestry of emotions that made every second of the performance a cherished memory in the making.

Halfway through the concert, the rhythm of the performance paused, giving way to a moment of intimate connection between you and your audience. As you took a breath and glanced out across the sea of faces, your eyes shimmered with a depth of gratitude that seemed to light up the entire arena. The energy of the crowd seemed to pulse in response, a living, breathing testament to the bond you had forged with your fans.

You spoke to them with heartfelt sincerity, your voice imbued with warmth as you thanked everyone for their unwavering support. Each word you uttered was like a gentle caress, weaving through the crowd and touching each individual. Jay, standing amidst the throng, felt a profound swell of pride well up within him. It was a quiet but powerful emotion, knowing that his contributions, however modest, had played a role in this vibrant celebration of your success.

The moment was a delicate dance of appreciation and connection, a fleeting yet timeless exchange that made Jay's heart swell with a deep sense of fulfillment. In that instant, amidst the shared joy and collective euphoria, he felt an unspoken bond with you and the thousands of other fans who had gathered to share in the magic of the night.

As the concert approached its final moments, the air thickened with anticipation. You began to perform Jay’s favorite song, the one that had become the soundtrack to his own personal journey. As the first notes floated into the air, Jay closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the music. Each melody and lyric seemed to envelop him like a familiar embrace, resonating with the countless hours he had dedicated to streaming this very track.

The music wove through him, a rich tapestry of sound that stirred deep within his soul. It was as though every chord and rhythm had been crafted specifically for him, echoing the joy and dedication he had invested in following your career. The experience was transcendent, a moment of perfect harmony where time seemed to stand still.

When the song reached its crescendo and the final notes gently faded into silence, the crowd erupted in a fervent burst of applause, a collective roar of appreciation that reverberated through the arena. Jay's hands instinctively joined the chorus of clapping, his heart swelling with a profound sense of fulfillment and connection. In that shared moment of jubilation, surrounded by the vibrant energy of fellow fans, Jay felt an overwhelming surge of happiness, a bittersweet reminder of the magical night he had been fortunate to experience.

As the final encore drew to a close and the last notes of the evening faded into the night, the concert hall began to empty, a gradual exodus of reluctant fans leaving behind the echoes of an unforgettable performance. Jay, however, chose to linger, his steps slow and deliberate as he remained in his seat, unwilling to let the magic of the night slip away just yet. The atmosphere, still tinged with the residual glow of stage lights and the faint scent of excitement, seemed to pulse with a gentle reverence.

He took a deep breath, allowing the serenity of the moment to wash over him. For Jay, the night had been more than just an event; it was the culmination of countless hours of support, a testament to his unwavering dedication from afar. Seeing you live had transformed his abstract admiration into a vivid, tangible experience, a realization of the dreams he had quietly nurtured.

The concert had been a symphony of emotions, each moment a brushstroke on the canvas of his devotion. As he looked around at the now-emptying hall, the memories of the evening replayed in his mind like a cherished melody. Jay savored the lingering warmth of the night, a profound satisfaction settling in his heart as he reflected on the incredible journey that had brought him to this perfect, fleeting moment of connection.

As Jay made his way toward the exit, he cast a casual glance toward the stage door, where he noticed a small cluster of fans gathered with hopeful anticipation. Their presence was a quiet testament to the lingering magic of the night. Intrigued, he decided to join them, even though he held no grand expectations. The concert had already fulfilled him in ways he hadn’t imagined, and he was content to leave with the memories of the evening still fresh in his heart.

To his astonishment, the quiet buzz of conversation among the remaining fans was soon interrupted by a burst of excitement. You emerged from behind the stage door, a vision of warmth and grace amidst the dimly lit backdrop. Your face was illuminated by a radiant smile that seemed to capture the essence of the night’s enchantment. You waved at the gathered fans, your gesture a gentle acknowledgment of their unwavering support.

The scene was bathed in a soft, lingering light as you made your way towards the crowd, and Jay's heart skipped a beat. Seeing you in person, so close and so genuine, added a new layer of magic to the evening. The brief encounter, filled with your sincere appreciation and the shared joy of the fans, became a cherished epilogue to the night’s spectacular performance.

Jay's heart fluttered with a sudden surge of excitement as you made your way toward the group, each step drawing you closer in a cascade of anticipation. Your approach was deliberate and gracious, as you took the time to engage with each fan, your presence a radiant blend of warmth and genuine appreciation.

When you finally reached him, the moment seemed to stretch into a beautiful eternity. Jay fought to maintain his composure, though his nerves danced with barely contained enthusiasm. He managed a calm, albeit slightly tremulous, smile as he introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Jay,” he said, his voice steady but infused with an unmistakable hint of awe. “I’m—uh, I’m always streaming your songs and videos. Tonight was incredible.”

His words, though simple, were a heartfelt tribute to the night’s splendor. The sincerity in his tone mirrored the admiration he had carried for so long, and in that fleeting exchange, the distance between fan and artist dissolved into a shared moment of connection and reverence.

You beamed with a radiant smile that seemed to illuminate the space around you, your eyes sparkling with genuine warmth and gratitude. “Thank you, Jay,” you said, your voice soft yet filled with heartfelt sincerity. The words flowed effortlessly, each syllable a testament to the deep appreciation you felt.

Your gaze held a tender, almost ethereal quality as you continued, “I’m truly grateful for all the support. It means so much to know that you enjoy the music and that you’re willing to contribute in such a meaningful way.” The sincerity in your tone and the genuine light in your eyes conveyed a deep, personal connection, making Jay feel as though his dedication had not only been acknowledged but cherished. In that moment, the bond between artist and fan was beautifully reaffirmed, a shared appreciation that transcended words.

Jay felt a profound surge of warmth at your words, a gentle rush of emotion that enveloped him in a cocoon of happiness. The sincerity of your appreciation struck a deep chord within him, igniting a sense of fulfillment that radiated from his core.

“I’ll keep doing it,” he said, his voice imbued with a quiet but resolute determination. “Your music is honestly the best thing to ever happen.” Each word was carefully chosen, a heartfelt declaration of the impact your artistry had made on his life. His statement was not merely a tribute but a promise, a reflection of the deep connection he felt with your work and the unwavering commitment to continue supporting it with all his heart.

You nodded with a graceful, appreciative smile, the gesture accompanied by a soft, melodic giggle that seemed to carry the warmth of the evening. The sound was a delicate, playful note that danced in the air, a reflection of the genuine gratitude you felt.

“Thank you for everything, Jay,” you said, your voice imbued with a tender sincerity. The words flowed with a natural ease, each syllable a heartfelt acknowledgment of his unwavering support. In that moment, the exchange between you was a beautiful blend of appreciation and connection, a shared understanding that transcended the boundaries of the stage and reached into the heart of the evening’s magic.

As you gracefully moved on to greet the other fans, Jay was enveloped by a deep and resonant sense of fulfillment. The concert had been a spectacular crescendo, and the brief, heartfelt interaction with you had imbued the evening with an added dimension of personal significance. It was a reaffirmation of his unwavering commitment to supporting your music, a promise of loyalty and admiration that had been solidified in the warmth of your gratitude.

As he began his journey home, a contented smile lingered on his lips. He slipped his earbuds back in, the familiar comfort of the soft cushion against his ears a prelude to the solace he sought. With a gentle tap, he played your latest song, letting the melodies cascade through him. The music, already a cherished part of his life, now carried an even deeper resonance, enriched by the vivid memories of the night. Each note seemed to echo with the joy and connection he had experienced, weaving the evening’s magic into the very fabric of the music he held so dear.

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN.

Jake's phone erupted with a relentless flurry of notifications, its screen a tapestry of flashing icons and vibrating alerts. Each buzz was a herald of the burgeoning frenzy surrounding your latest release, a wildfire of excitement that spread across the digital expanse. His fan account, a veritable beacon of devotion, crackled with activity as the news of your new work ignited the fervor of your admirers.

In the realm of social media, Jake was a maestro, orchestrating a symphony of online enthusiasm with meticulous precision. His virtual domain was a haven of vibrant promotion, where he crafted elaborate posts to celebrate your artistry and engaged in fervent discussions to elevate your presence. He was a tireless guardian of your reputation, deftly defending you against any shadow of criticism that dared to cast itself upon your name.

Hours blurred into days as Jake immersed himself in the art of digital advocacy. He meticulously arranged streaming parties that thrummed with collective excitement and mobilized legions of supporters to cast their votes in your favor. Each moment spent was a testament to his unwavering commitment, as he channeled his energy into ensuring that your achievements resonated far and wide.

One serene afternoon, as Jake meandered through his social media feed with a sense of routine calm, a new notification flickered to life on his screen. It was an announcement for an exclusive contest, offering a coveted prize: a chance for fans to meet you in person and partake in a thrilling game during an upcoming interview. The message was a sparkling beacon amidst the digital noise, and Jake's heart leapt in his chest, racing with an exhilarating burst of anticipation.

With a sense of urgency and determination, Jake plunged into action. His fingers danced across the screen as he entered the contest, his movements fueled by a fervent hope and a deep-seated desire. The stakes were high, and he could almost envision the opportunity as if it were a tangible, glittering prize just within reach.

Not content to keep this golden chance to himself, Jake set about rallying his fellow fans with a fervent zeal. He shared the contest announcement across his fan accounts, crafting messages that bristled with enthusiasm and encouragement. His call to action was a clarion cry for participation, urging others to join in and seize the chance to connect with you, as he had. The air was electric with shared excitement, each notification a testament to the collective dream of meeting you in person.

A week later, Jake's phone rang with an unfamiliar number, its jarring ring cutting through the quietude of his day. With a flutter of nervous anticipation, he answered, his hand trembling slightly as he lifted the phone to his ear. On the other end, a voice, vibrant with uncontainable enthusiasm, greeted him with words that sent a shiver of disbelief and elation down his spine: he had won the contest.

The news was a cascade of joy that surged through Jake's veins, electrifying every fiber of his being. His heart pounded in a rhythm of pure exhilaration, and he struggled to hold back the flood of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. As he expressed his heartfelt gratitude to the caller, his mind raced with the thrilling possibilities that lay ahead.

Without a moment's hesitation, Jake rushed to share the incredible news with his online friends. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he crafted messages that crackled with infectious excitement, eager to spread the joy and invite them to revel in his triumph. The virtual space was soon abuzz with celebratory fervor, each message a ripple in the sea of shared elation, as Jake's news became a beacon of collective joy among his fellow fans.

On the day of the interview, Jake approached the studio with a heart that danced between nerves and exhilaration. Each step felt like a journey through a landscape of anticipation, the gravity of the moment settling over him like a shroud of shimmering possibility. Years of dedicated promotion and fervent support had led him to this threshold, and the weight of it all made his pulse quicken with a heady mix of excitement and trepidation.

As he entered the studio, the bustling environment greeted him with a warmth that was both soothing and energizing. The staff, their smiles genuine and eyes twinkling with camaraderie, enveloped him in a welcoming embrace. They guided him through the labyrinth of the studio, their voices imbued with the promise of an unforgettable experience.

Jake listened intently as they outlined the details of the segment, each word painting a vivid picture of what was to come. The centerpiece of the evening was a live game, an interactive moment where he would finally connect with you face-to-face. The thought of sharing this experience with you, after so many years of virtual connection, ignited a thrill within him, and he found himself eagerly anticipating the chance to step into this shared moment of excitement and connection.

As the interview commenced, Jake lingered on the sidelines, his heart thudding with the rhythmic urgency of a drum. Each beat seemed to echo the anticipation that hung palpably in the air. The studio's vibrant energy enveloped him, a whirlwind of lights and sounds that intensified his sense of expectation.

When the moment arrived and the host’s voice rang out, introducing him with a flourish, Jake drew a deep, steadying breath. With a resolve that masked his inner tumult, he stepped onto the set. The audience’s applause greeted him like a warm embrace, their clapping a chorus of encouragement that surged around him, amplifying the thrill of the moment. As he walked forward, the atmosphere crackled with an electric blend of excitement and nervous anticipation, each step bringing him closer to the realization of a long-held dream.

You turned towards him, your face illuminated by a radiant smile that seemed to light up the entire studio. The warmth and sincerity in your eyes made the moment feel suspended in time.

"Hi, Jake!" you greeted him with a cheerful exuberance, your voice carrying a melodic lilt that wrapped around him like a comforting embrace. "It's great to meet you," you continued, your words flowing effortlessly and imbued with genuine delight. The connection in that instant was electric, as if the years of virtual admiration had culminated in this shared, unforgettable moment.

Jake's smile, though brimming with excitement, was tempered with a careful composure. He met your gaze with a mixture of awe and admiration. "Hi," he said, his voice steady despite the flutter of nerves. "I’m a huge fan."

Your response was immediate and heartfelt, a genuine delight shining in your eyes. "Thank you so much for your support," you replied, your voice warm and sincere. "It means a lot." The simplicity of your words was underscored by the depth of emotion conveyed, and Jake felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy. In that exchange, the connection between fan and idol transcended the boundaries of screen and stage, becoming a shared moment of authentic appreciation.

The host's voice rang out, rich with enthusiasm as they outlined the rules of the game. It was a lively trivia challenge centered around your illustrious career, a test of knowledge designed to celebrate your achievements. Jake felt a surge of confidence, his pulse quickening with the thrill of the impending challenge. He had immersed himself in every detail of your journey, his knowledge deep and comprehensive.

As the game commenced, Jake's well-honed expertise began to shine through. Each answer he provided was delivered with the assurance of someone who had followed your career with unwavering devotion. Your laughter, bright and infectious, filled the air as you cheered him on. The joy and admiration in your eyes were unmistakable, and it was clear that his dedication and passion had left a lasting impression on you.

As the game drew to a close, Jake emerged victorious by a commanding margin, his triumph a testament to his fervent admiration and meticulous knowledge. The host’s voice rang out with genuine congratulations, the applause from the audience swelling like a wave of collective appreciation.

You stepped forward with a smile that radiated warmth and gratitude. In your hands, you held a signed album, its cover gleaming under the studio lights. As you presented it to Jake, your words flowed with heartfelt sincerity. "You're amazing, Jake," you said, your tone infused with genuine admiration. "Thank you for everything you do." The album, a tangible symbol of your appreciation, was a fitting end to a moment that celebrated both his dedication and your mutual connection.

Jake was overcome by a swell of emotion, his voice trembling slightly with sincerity. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his words imbued with a heartfelt promise. "I'll keep supporting you no matter what." The depth of his commitment was clear, a testament to his unwavering admiration.

As the interview concluded, a brief window of private time opened up between you. The studio, now quieter and more intimate, felt like a cocoon of shared experience. You turned to him with a radiant smile, your eyes sparkling with genuine delight. "I had a lot of fun playing with you, Jake," you said, your voice warm and infused with a touch of playful admiration. "I’m so impressed you beat me." Your words, spoken with genuine appreciation, underscored the camaraderie and connection that had blossomed between you during the game.

Jake’s laughter bubbled up with a sense of deep satisfaction, his heart swelling with fulfillment. "I may or may not run an account or two dedicated to you," he confessed, his voice tinged with playful secrecy. "You’re just such an inspiration for me." His cheeks flushed with a warm blush, a vivid testament to the joy and pride he felt in that moment.

Your smile broadened, radiating a glow of genuine warmth and appreciation. “I really appreciate you, Jake. So much,” you replied, your words like a soothing balm to his eager heart. The sincerity in your voice resonated deeply, making the moment even more memorable.

As Jake exited the studio, his heart brimmed with a sense of completeness. Meeting you had surpassed even his loftiest dreams, and the encounter had only fueled his devotion. With a renewed fervor, he prepared to champion your cause with even greater zeal. On his journey home, he crafted a heartfelt message for his fan accounts, pouring out his gratitude and enthusiasm. He shared the transformative experience with his fellow fans, encouraging them to support you with the same passion and dedication that had driven him all along.

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON.

Sunghoon adjusted his jacket one last time, meticulously smoothing the fabric as he scrutinized his reflection in the mirror. The jacket, a masterpiece of sleek black with intricate embroidery, was a testament to your signature style from a recent performance that had left a lasting impression on him. Each stitch seemed to echo the haunting melodies of your music, weaving a connection between fashion and art that he found mesmerizing.

He had spent weeks scouring boutiques and online shops, determined to find a jacket that mirrored yours with precise accuracy. The search had been relentless, driven by a deep admiration for both your music and your fashion sense. To Sunghoon, this jacket was more than just an article of clothing; it was a symbol of his dedication and a tribute to the artistry he so deeply respected.

As he fastened the buttons, memories of countless nights spent streaming your songs and watching your performances flooded his mind. The rhythms and lyrics had become a part of him, ingrained in his soul after hours of listening on repeat. Each beat, each note, resonated within him until he could replay them perfectly in his head, as if your voice had become his own inner soundtrack.

The mirror reflected not just his image, but also the transformation he had undergone. In that moment, he wasn’t just Sunghoon; he was a reflection of the music and style that had inspired him, a living homage to the artist he revered. With a final, confident glance, he stepped out of his apartment, ready to carry the essence of your art into the world.

Today was a day unlike any other, a day that held the promise of a dream coming true. Sunghoon clutched the precious ticket to your fan meeting, the golden key to an encounter he had longed for. This rare opportunity to meet you in person set his heart racing with a thrilling blend of excitement and nervous anticipation.

As he made his way to the venue, each step felt charged with electricity. The cityscape blurred around him, the usual hum of life fading into the background as his mind focused solely on the upcoming moment. The fan meeting was more than an event; it was a chance to connect with the artist who had profoundly influenced his world.

In preparation for this special occasion, Sunghoon had meticulously crafted his appearance, choosing an outfit that echoed your style while reflecting his own dedication. Every detail, from the crisp lines of his tailored jacket to the subtle accessories, was selected with the hope of catching your eye. He had spent countless hours perfecting his look, ensuring that it embodied the essence of your artistic vision.

As he approached the venue, the reality of the moment began to sink in. The crowd of fans gathered outside shared his enthusiasm, their voices a chorus of shared admiration. But for Sunghoon, this experience was intensely personal. He felt a connection to you through your music and fashion, and today, he hoped to express that bond in person.

With each passing moment, the anticipation built, his heart pounding in rhythm with the excitement that filled the air. Sunghoon took a deep breath, ready to step into a world where his dreams and reality would collide, where the admiration he held in his heart would finally find its voice.

The venue buzzed with anticipation, a symphony of eager murmurs and shared excitement filling the air. Fans poured into the room, their faces alight with anticipation and joy. Sunghoon navigated through the sea of people, finally finding his seat amidst the throng. He glanced around, recognizing a few familiar faces from social media, their expressions mirroring his own eager anticipation. Yet, despite the familiar faces, his focus remained unwaveringly on the stage, where you would soon make your grand entrance.

The room seemed to pulse with collective energy, the excitement almost tangible as fans shared stories, laughter, and their mutual admiration for you. Sunghoon's heart beat in time with the buzz of the crowd, a rhythm that underscored his own fervent anticipation. He adjusted his jacket, a symbol of his dedication, feeling the fabric against his skin as a reminder of the momentous occasion.

As the lights dimmed and a hush fell over the crowd, the atmosphere thickened with anticipation. Every eye was trained on the stage, every breath held in unison. Then, the curtains parted, and you walked out, a vision of grace and warmth. The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound rising like a tidal wave, enveloping the room in a cascade of adoration.

Sunghoon felt his heart race, the thrill of the moment washing over him. He watched intently as you greeted the audience, your smile radiant and welcoming. The way you moved, the way you carried yourself, it was as if the essence of your music and persona had materialized before his eyes. Every gesture, every word, seemed to resonate deeply with the audience, binding them together in a shared moment of pure connection.

In that instant, as you stood on the stage, Sunghoon felt a profound sense of awe. This was the culmination of his admiration and dedication, a fleeting yet unforgettable moment where the distance between fan and artist dissolved, leaving only the magic of shared experience.

The fan meeting commenced with a lively Q&A session, the air brimming with curiosity and excitement as fans eagerly posed their questions. The room buzzed with the hum of conversation, punctuated by bursts of laughter and applause. Following the Q&A, the atmosphere shifted into a more playful tone with interactive games, drawing the crowd even closer together in their shared joy.

As the event unfolded, Sunghoon's anticipation grew with each passing moment. The rhythm of activities seemed to accelerate, and before he knew it, his turn to meet you arrived, catching him off guard with its swiftness. Rising from his seat, he felt a wave of nervous energy course through him, his hands growing slightly clammy as he approached the stage.

With each step closer, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a mix of excitement and nerves intertwining. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, determined to make the most of this fleeting, yet precious moment. As he ascended the steps to the stage, the world around him seemed to blur, his focus narrowing solely on you.

When he finally stood before you, a breathless anticipation hung in the air. Your eyes lifted to meet his, and a spark of recognition danced within them. The moment your gaze settled on his jacket, your eyes lit up, a warm and genuine smile spreading across your face. The intricate embroidery and sleek design had not gone unnoticed, and the recognition in your eyes sent a thrill through Sunghoon.

The connection was instantaneous, a silent acknowledgment of his dedication and admiration. For Sunghoon, that single moment of recognition felt like a dream realized, a testament to the countless hours spent immersing himself in your music and style. The clammy hands and racing heart were now a backdrop to the profound sense of fulfillment and joy that filled him as he stood before you, basking in the shared glow of a moment that transcended the ordinary.

"Hi, I'm Sunghoon," he introduced himself, his voice carrying a blend of shyness and sincerity. A gentle smile played on his lips as he spoke, the culmination of his admiration and anticipation distilled into this single moment. "I've been a fan for a long time."

Your smile widened, radiating warmth and genuine delight as you leaned in, your eyes twinkling with interest. The closeness allowed you to take in the details of his meticulously chosen jacket. "Wow, Sunghoon," you exclaimed, admiration evident in your tone. "You look so handsome in that jacket! It looks exactly like the one I wore."

Your words were a balm to his nerves, each syllable like a note in a melody he had longed to hear. The recognition and praise in your eyes made his heart swell with a mixture of pride and elation. The jacket, which had become a symbol of his dedication, now served as a bridge between you, connecting his admiration to your artistry in a tangible way.

In that moment, the bustling room seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in a shared bubble of recognition and mutual appreciation. Sunghoon felt a surge of confidence, his earlier nervousness dissipating in the face of your kind words and warm demeanor. The shy smile on his lips grew, reflecting the joy that now filled his heart.

The exchange, though brief, was imbued with a depth of meaning that words alone could scarcely convey. It was a moment of connection, where fan and artist transcended their roles and met as individuals, each acknowledging the other's presence in a world where art and admiration intertwined.

Sunghoon felt a surge of pride swell within him, his earlier nervousness now replaced by a deep sense of connection. “Thank you. Your style is such an inspiration to me. And your music… I listen to it all the time,” he confessed, his voice brimming with genuine admiration.

You chuckled softly, a sound that resonated with warmth and sincerity. “I’m glad you enjoy it. Just make sure to take breaks so you don’t get sick of it, okay?” The gentle teasing in your tone was both comforting and endearing, bridging the gap between artist and admirer.

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions. In that moment, he felt truly seen and understood. “I’ll try. It’s just that your music and style mean so much to me,” he said, his words carrying the weight of countless hours spent immersed in your art.

Reaching out, you patted his shoulder, a gesture of both kindness and acknowledgment. “I appreciate your dedication, Sunghoon. It really means a lot,” you said, your voice imbued with sincerity. The touch was light yet grounding, a tangible connection that left a lasting impression on his heart.

The exchange lingered in the air, a delicate interplay of words and emotions that transcended the ordinary. Sunghoon felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and fulfillment, knowing that his admiration had not only been recognized but also reciprocated. In this brief, beautifully profound moment, the lines between fan and artist blurred, leaving only the pure, unspoken understanding that art, in all its forms, had the power to connect souls.

As you took the photograph and began signing it, Sunghoon felt his nerves gradually settle, the initial flutter of anxiety giving way to a profound sense of calm. The interaction was unfolding in a way that felt far more personal and genuine than he had ever dared to imagine. Each stroke of your pen seemed to bridge the gap between your world and his, transforming a simple autograph into a cherished memory.

When you handed the photo back to him, your smile was radiant and reassuring. “Keep being awesome, Sunghoon,” you said warmly, your voice a soothing balm that enveloped him in a sense of belonging. “And keep sharing your outfits. I love seeing how fans interpret my style.”

The words resonated deeply within him, each syllable a testament to the bond that art and admiration had woven between you. Sunghoon’s heart swelled with a mix of pride and joy, knowing that his dedication and efforts had not only been acknowledged but celebrated. The photograph in his hands was now a symbol of this extraordinary moment, a tangible reminder of the connection that had blossomed between artist and fan.

In that fleeting yet profound exchange, Sunghoon felt seen, appreciated, and understood. Your encouragement was more than just a compliment; it was an affirmation of his own creative expression and a beacon of inspiration that would continue to guide him. As he looked into your eyes, he saw not just an idol, but a kindred spirit who valued and nurtured the shared love of art and fashion.

The room around them seemed to blur, the noise of the crowd fading into the background as the significance of the moment crystallized in his heart. Sunghoon knew that this encounter would remain etched in his memory, a beacon of light and inspiration that he would carry with him always. The photo, now imbued with your words and warmth, became a cherished memento of an experience that transcended the ordinary, leaving an indelible mark on his soul.

Sunghoon’s heart soared as he expressed his gratitude to you, his voice carrying the heartfelt sincerity of the moment. With a lingering glance back at the stage, he made his way down, feeling as though he were floating on a cloud. The rest of the fan meeting passed in a blur, a whirlwind of activities and emotions, yet the memory of your kind words and warm smile remained vivid and bright, etched into his mind like a cherished painting.

Leaving the venue, the night air felt crisp and refreshing, a perfect counterpoint to the warmth that still radiated within him. Sunghoon knew that his dedication had paid off in ways he had never imagined. The acknowledgment and connection he had felt were more profound than any fan could hope for, a true testament to the bond between artist and admirer.

That evening, with his heart still brimming with excitement, Sunghoon carefully composed a post for his social media. He shared a picture of his meticulously crafted outfit, capturing the essence of the jacket that had sparked your recognition. In his post, he recounted the experience, describing the magic of the fan meeting and encouraging other fans to keep supporting you with the same passion and dedication.

As he scrolled through the responses, he felt a renewed sense of connection, not only to your music and style but to you as a person. The fan meeting had given him a deeper appreciation for everything you did, a glimpse into the heart and soul behind the art he so admired. The comments from fellow fans created a tapestry of shared love and admiration, weaving a community bound by a mutual appreciation for your artistry.

Later, as he prepared for bed, Sunghoon queued up your latest song, a soft smile spreading across his face as the familiar melody filled the room. Each note seemed to shimmer with new meaning, each lyric resonating with the experiences of the day. Meeting you had infused everything with a fresh sense of wonder and excitement, rekindling his enthusiasm and deepening his connection to your work.

With the music playing softly in the background, he closed his eyes, feeling a profound sense of contentment. He knew he would never truly tire of your songs; each listen was a journey, a renewal of his unwavering dedication. As he drifted off to sleep, his dreams were filled with anticipation and curiosity, eager to see what you would create next. The fan meeting had not only been a moment of personal fulfillment but also a promise of continued inspiration and support, a testament to the enduring power of art and connection.

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO.

Seonwoo sat at his desk, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest as he fixated on the countdown timer ticking away on his computer screen. Each passing second brought him closer to a moment he had long fantasized about: a fan call with you, his cherished idol. The anticipation was almost palpable, making the air in his room feel electric with excitement and nervous energy.

His room was a vivid testament to his unwavering devotion. The walls were adorned with an array of your posters, each one capturing a different facet of your career and beauty. Shelves brimming with signed and limited edition merchandise showcased his dedication; every item was a precious relic, carefully preserved and displayed. Even his computer bore evidence of his admiration, filled with meticulously organized folders of your photos, videos, and achievements. Each file represented countless hours spent curating a digital shrine to the person who inspired him most.

As the seconds dwindled, Seonwoo took a deep breath, his eyes wandering over the familiar, comforting chaos of his sanctuary. The posters seemed to smile down at him, offering silent encouragement. The room, once a mere collection of his interests, now felt like a sacred space where his dreams were about to intertwine with reality. His hands trembled slightly, the excitement almost too much to contain, but his spirit soared with the thought that in just a few moments, he would finally get to speak to you, the idol who had unknowingly shaped so much of his world.

When the timer finally struck zero, the screen shimmered to life, and there you were, as if emerging from a dream. Seonwoo's breath hitched in his throat, an almost palpable sensation of wonder coursing through him. Your face, illuminated by a soft, ethereal glow, appeared on the screen, your features radiating warmth and charm.

The sight of you—so vividly present in his world—was almost too incredible to fathom. Your smile, a gentle curve of happiness, seemed to bridge the gap between reality and his wildest fantasies. For a moment, Seonwoo was lost in the magic of it all, struggling to grasp that the person who had inspired his dreams was now smiling directly at him from the other side of the screen.

"Hi, Seonwoo!" you greeted him, your voice ringing with a vibrant cheerfulness that seemed to brighten the room. Your words, imbued with genuine warmth, carried a melodic lilt that made Seonwoo’s heart skip a beat. "It’s wonderful to finally meet you," you continued, your smile expanding to showcase a glimmer of sincerity that made the moment feel all the more magical.

Your presence, though mediated by the screen, was imbued with an inviting aura. The way you spoke, with a natural grace and enthusiasm, created an intimate connection that transcended the digital divide. For Seonwoo, it was as if the space between them had vanished, leaving only the heartfelt exchange and the thrill of meeting the person who had been a beacon of inspiration in his life.

Seonwoo took a deep breath, the weight of his nerves pressing heavily on his chest. He forced a smile, trying to steady the fluttering excitement within him. "Hi!" he managed, his voice a mix of awe and nervousness. "I can hardly believe this is actually happening."

His words tumbled out, tinged with a sincerity that matched the intensity of his feelings. "I'm such a huge fan," he continued, his gaze locked on you, as if trying to memorize every detail of the moment. The sheer enormity of the experience overwhelmed him, but the thrill of finally speaking with you, the person he had admired from afar, was an unforgettable rush that made every anxious flutter worth it.

Your smile broadened, becoming a radiant expression of genuine gratitude. "Thank you!" you said, your voice rich with warmth and sincerity. "I truly appreciate your support."

Your eyes sparkled with a sincere interest as you continued, "How are you doing?" The question was delivered with a gentle kindness that made Seonwoo feel as if your concern extended beyond the confines of the screen. The ease in your tone and the genuine curiosity in your gaze created an atmosphere of intimacy, making the moment feel remarkably personal and heartfelt.

"I'm great now," Seonwoo replied, his voice growing steadier as he began to relax. The initial tremor in his tone gave way to a more composed delivery, his excitement still palpable but softened by a newfound calm. 

"I've immersed myself in every detail of your career and your achievements," he continued, a trace of awe lingering in his words. "I’ve followed you since your debut, watching your journey unfold with a sense of wonder." The depth of his admiration was evident in his gaze, as if each memory of your milestones had woven itself into the fabric of his own life.

"Wow, that's truly amazing!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with heartfelt surprise. A look of genuine emotion softened your features, revealing just how deeply your fan’s dedication resonated with you. Your eyes shone with appreciation, as if the weight of Seonwoo’s unwavering support had touched something profoundly personal within you.

"Your dedication means so much to me," you continued, your tone brimming with warmth and gratitude. With a bright, curious glint in your eye, you leaned slightly forward, eager to engage. "So, what's your favorite song from my newest album?" The question was posed with an earnest interest, inviting Seonwoo to share in the joy of your latest work, and further deepening the bond between you.

Seonwoo's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, his expression lighting up as he spoke. "That's a tough choice," he admitted, his voice reflecting the depth of his admiration. "But if I had to choose, I think my favorite would have to be 'Eternal Echoes.'"

He paused for a moment, choosing his words with care, as if savoring the memories the song evoked. "The lyrics are so profoundly meaningful, each line woven with a resonance that touches the soul," he continued, his tone filled with reverence. "And the melody—it’s simply beautiful. It captivated me completely and struck a chord deep within, making it a song that I find myself returning to time and again."

You nodded with a radiant smile, your eyes alight with genuine pleasure. "I’m so glad to hear that you like 'Eternal Echoes,'" you said, your voice softening with a touch of nostalgia. "It’s actually one of my favorites as well."

A hint of emotion colored your tone as you continued, "I poured a lot of my heart into that song." Your words carried a sense of deep personal connection, as if sharing a piece of your soul through the melody and lyrics. The sincerity in your voice conveyed the dedication and passion you had invested, making the moment feel all the more intimate and special.

Seonwoo cast a thoughtful glance around his room, the vibrant tapestry of his admiration for you spread out before him. Each corner of the space held a cherished piece of memorabilia, a testament to his devotion. He carefully selected a signed album from a neatly organized shelf, its cover shimmering softly in the ambient light.

With a mixture of reverence and excitement, he held it up, his eyes gleaming with pride. "This," he said, his voice tinged with affection, "is one of my most prized possessions." He paused, his gaze lingering on the autograph, a tangible connection to the moment of joy when he had received it. "I was absolutely over the moon when I got your autograph. It felt like a dream come true."

You smiled warmly, a soft glow of genuine affection illuminating your features. "I’m truly glad that it means so much to you," you said, your voice imbued with heartfelt sincerity. The warmth of your smile seemed to envelop the space between you, bridging the gap with an emotional connection.

"It’s fans like you," you continued, your eyes reflecting deep appreciation, "who make everything worthwhile." Your words were a tender acknowledgment, as if you were sharing a secret about the profound impact that loyal supporters have on your journey. The sincerity in your tone and the genuine sparkle in your gaze conveyed just how much you valued the support, making the moment feel exceptionally personal and meaningful.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, like a gentle stream weaving through a lush, verdant landscape. Seonwoo, his initial nervousness now a distant memory, eagerly asked about your creative process, the spark of inspiration behind your work, and the favorite moments that had defined your career.

You listened with genuine interest, your eyes reflecting the depth of your engagement. Each question was met with thoughtful consideration, your answers weaving a tapestry of insights and stories. You spoke of the quiet moments when inspiration struck, the late nights spent perfecting lyrics, and the joyous occasions that had marked your journey. Your voice carried a melodic rhythm, drawing Seonwoo further into the enchanting world of your artistry.

As Seonwoo hung on to every word, his admiration grew even deeper. The exchange was more than just a conversation; it was a heartfelt connection. You expressed your gratitude for his unwavering support, acknowledging how fans like him fueled your passion and drive. The sincerity in your tone made each expression of thanks feel like a precious gift, further cementing the bond between artist and admirer.

As the call neared its end, Seonwoo felt a bittersweet blend of happiness and sadness wash over him. The joy of having spoken to you, his idol, was tempered by the wistful realization that this cherished moment was drawing to a close. His heart swelled with gratitude for the precious opportunity, yet he couldn't help but wish for just a bit more time.

"Thank you so much for this," Seonwoo said, his voice carrying a depth of emotion. "It means the world to me."

Your smile softened, imbued with a gentle warmth that seemed to reach through the screen. "Thank you, Seonwoo," you replied, your words sincere and heartfelt. "Your support and dedication are truly inspiring. Keep being awesome, and I'll keep doing my best for fans like you."

The sentiment lingered in the air, wrapping Seonwoo in a comforting embrace. As the screen dimmed and the call ended, he was left with a lasting impression of your kindness and authenticity, a memory he would treasure forever.

The screen slowly faded to black, and Seonwoo leaned back in his chair, a profound sense of fulfillment washing over him. The virtual meeting with you, even through a screen, had surpassed all his hopes and dreams. He felt a warm glow of contentment, knowing that his dedication had been recognized and appreciated. This acknowledgment fueled his passion, igniting a desire to continue supporting you in every way possible.

With his heart still brimming with emotion, Seonwoo turned to his fan accounts, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. He composed a heartfelt message, pouring out his gratitude and excitement. He shared the experience in vivid detail, recounting the precious moments and expressing his appreciation for the opportunity. The response from fellow fans was immediate and enthusiastic, their shared joy amplifying his own.

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON.

Jungwon sat anxiously in his living room, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the arm of the couch. The soft glow of the television cast flickering shadows on the walls, heightening the anticipation that pulsed through him. Tonight was the night. His heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves as he kept his eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for the moment that could change everything.

The variety show, known for its lively and unpredictable content, was airing tonight's episode, and you were the guest star. For weeks, Jungwon had poured his heart and soul into creating the perfect video, meticulously crafting a fun and unique challenge for you to perform. He had spent countless hours brainstorming, filming, and editing, ensuring every detail was flawless. This wasn't just any video; it was a labor of love, a tribute to his admiration for you.

As one of your biggest fans, Jungwon knew every nuance of your career, every highlight and milestone. He admired your talent, your charisma, and the way you brought joy to your audience. This was his chance to connect with you in a way that went beyond the screen, to share a piece of himself and maybe, just maybe, catch your attention.

The minutes felt like hours as he waited, each passing second intensifying the knot of anticipation in his stomach. He imagined your reaction, the possibility of seeing you smile or laugh because of something he had created. The thought filled him with a warmth that chased away some of the nerves, replacing them with a hopeful excitement.

Finally, the moment arrived. The host announced the next segment, and Jungwon's video began to play. His breath caught in his throat as he watched, his heart racing with a blend of fear and exhilaration. This was it—the culmination of his efforts, his passion, and his dreams.

The show began with a burst of vibrant colors and lively music, the kind that set hearts racing with excitement. Jungwon's pulse quickened, each beat echoing the rhythm of the show's energetic theme. As the charismatic host took the stage, Jungwon's grip on the remote tightened, his knuckles turning white.

The host's voice, warm and enthusiastic, filled the room as he introduced the much-anticipated segment where fans could send in challenges for their favorite idols. This was the moment Jungwon had been waiting for, the culmination of weeks of effort and countless hours of perfecting his video. The possibility of his challenge being featured on the show was a dream he had nurtured with care and dedication.

Jungwon's eyes were glued to the screen, his breath coming in shallow, anxious bursts. The room seemed to shrink around him, narrowing his focus to the television as the first fan-submitted video played. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a palpable tension that thrummed through his veins. He could feel the weight of the moment, the delicate balance between hope and uncertainty.

As each video played, Jungwon's heart raced faster, a tumultuous mix of excitement and nervousness swirling within him. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, drowning out everything but the sound of his own rapid heartbeat. The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, each one a step closer to the possibility of seeing his creation on the screen.

Finally, the host announced the next submission, and the screen flickered to life with a familiar scene. Jungwon's heart leaped into his throat as he recognized his own video, the one he had crafted with such care and passion. A wave of emotions crashed over him—relief, joy, and a renewed sense of anticipation. This was his moment, a chance to connect with his idol in a way he had always dreamed of.

"And now, we have a special challenge sent in by a dedicated fan named Jungwon," the host announced with a flourish, his voice resonating with enthusiasm. Jungwon's heart leaped at the sound of his name, a jolt of exhilaration electrifying his entire being. The moment he had been dreaming of was finally unfolding before his eyes.

The screen transitioned smoothly to his video, the familiar sight filling the room with a vibrant energy. Jungwon watched as his own face appeared on the screen, a mixture of excitement and nervousness visible in his eyes. He began to explain the challenge he had painstakingly crafted: a fun and quirky dance routine, a fusion of creativity and admiration. 

In the video, Jungwon's passion was palpable. His voice, steady yet brimming with enthusiasm, described the dance he had choreographed himself. He had meticulously blended some of your signature moves, the ones that had always captivated him, with innovative new steps he hoped you would enjoy. Each move was chosen with care, designed to showcase your unique style while adding a fresh twist that was distinctly his own.

The camera captured his fluid movements as he demonstrated the routine, each step a testament to his dedication and love for your art. He twirled and leaped with a grace that belied the hours of practice and refinement that had gone into perfecting the choreography. The music pulsed through the speakers, its rhythm aligning with the beat of his heart as he danced with abandon.

Jungwon's hope was that this dance, a heartfelt tribute to you, would not only bring a smile to your face but also forge a connection that transcended the screen. He had poured his soul into every movement, every transition, infusing the routine with his admiration and respect for your talent. As the video played on, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and anticipation, knowing that his creation was now in your hands.

As the video began to play, Jungwon's gaze was locked on your reaction. Every subtle change in your expression was a new chapter in the unfolding narrative of his dreams. You leaned forward, eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and amusement that sent a thrill down his spine. "This looks interesting," you said, your smile radiant and infectious. The warmth in your voice was like a melody, and Jungwon's heart swelled with joy.

The camera captured your every move as you rose gracefully from your seat, your demeanor radiating excitement. You positioned yourself with an air of readiness, your body poised to dance. Jungwon could hardly contain his breath, his excitement mounting with each passing second. The anticipation was palpable, a living, breathing entity that filled the room.

As the music began, you mirrored the moves from his video, your movements a blend of elegance and playful energy. Laughter bubbled from your lips as you navigated the steps, your joy evident in every misstep and triumph. The way you tried to get the steps right, each attempt imbued with determination and delight, made the moment even more enchanting.

The audience erupted into cheers, their enthusiasm a resounding chorus that filled the studio. The host, ever supportive, joined in the encouragement, his voice adding to the lively atmosphere. Jungwon felt a surge of pride swell within him, a tidal wave of emotions that washed over him with an almost overwhelming force. 

He watched as you immersed yourself in the dance, your laughter and smiles a testament to the connection he had hoped to forge. Each move you made, every joyous exclamation, was a validation of his efforts and dreams. In that moment, Jungwon's world seemed to align perfectly, his passion and dedication shining through in the shared experience of his carefully crafted dance routine.

"This is really fun! Jungwon, you did a fantastic job with this choreography," you exclaimed, your voice slightly breathless but filled with genuine admiration. A rosy flush colored your cheeks, and a radiant smile spread across your face as you caught your breath. "I absolutely love it!"

Your words echoed in Jungwon's mind, each syllable a note in a symphony of validation and joy. He could feel his heart swell with pride, the sheer ecstasy of hearing you praise his work enveloping him like a warm embrace. The admiration in your eyes was a shimmering reflection of the effort and passion he had poured into creating the dance routine.

The host, beaming with delight, turned to address the audience. "Looks like Jungwon has a promising future in choreography!" he declared, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Thank you for sending in such a creative and entertaining challenge."

The applause that followed was thunderous, a wave of appreciation that seemed to lift Jungwon's spirits even higher. He could hardly believe that his creation had not only reached you but had also brought you joy and laughter. The host's words, echoing the sentiment of the moment, felt like a prophecy, a glimpse into a future where his passion for dance could lead to something extraordinary.

Jungwon's mind raced with possibilities, his imagination painting vivid pictures of what could come next. The dream he had nurtured in the quiet moments of practice and creation was now blossoming into reality, each cheer and clap a testament to his talent and hard work. The connection he felt in that instant, not just with you but with everyone who had witnessed the dance, was a beautiful tapestry woven from threads of admiration, creativity, and shared joy.

Jungwon couldn't contain his joy. The sight of you enjoying his challenge and hearing your praise felt like a dream come true. His heart swelled with an indescribable elation, and he quickly grabbed his phone, his fingers trembling with excitement. He posted a clip of the segment on his fan accounts, eager to share this incredible moment with his fellow fans. The response was immediate and overwhelming, a cascade of congratulatory messages and expressions of delight flooding his notifications.

The comments were a chorus of shared joy and admiration. Friends and fans alike marveled at the creativity of his challenge and celebrated the fact that it had been featured on the show. Jungwon felt a profound sense of connection, a bond strengthened by the collective excitement of the fandom. Each notification was a reminder that he was not alone in his admiration for you; he was part of a vibrant community that shared his passion.

As the show continued, his phone buzzed incessantly with messages from friends and fellow fans. The outpouring of support and shared enthusiasm was heartwarming, filling him with a deep sense of pride. Not only had his challenge been showcased, but it had also brought joy to you, making the moment all the more special. The realization that his creation had made an impact on you was a source of immense satisfaction and fulfillment.

Later that night, Jungwon found himself replaying the segment over and over. Each viewing brought a fresh wave of happiness, the smile on his face growing wider with every replay. The experience had exceeded his wildest hopes, igniting a newfound sense of inspiration within him. He felt a burning desire to continue creating, to keep pushing the boundaries of his passion and supporting you in any way he could.

The memory of watching you perform his challenge was a highlight of his journey as a fan, a luminous moment that he knew he would treasure forever. It was a testament to the power of dedication, creativity, and the unbreakable bond between an artist and their admirers. As he drifted off to sleep that night, the smile never left his face, and his heart was full of dreams for what the future might hold.

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI.

Riki sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, the soft glow of his phone illuminating his eager face. His fingers trembled slightly as he clutched the device, heart pounding with a mix of disbelief and excitement. Just moments ago, a notification had appeared on the screen: you had reacted to the dance cover he had posted on TikTok. The realization felt almost surreal.

For weeks, Riki had dedicated countless hours to perfecting the choreography to one of your latest songs. Each movement had been carefully honed, every step imbued with his boundless energy and unwavering passion. The process had been a labor of love, a testament to his admiration for you and your artistry. 

Now, in the quiet sanctity of his room, he found himself confronted with the astonishing truth: his idol had seen his work. The walls around him seemed to pulse with the same rhythm that had driven his practice, as if sharing in his triumph. The air was thick with the echoes of his dedication, a tangible reminder of the countless nights spent rehearsing, perfecting, and dreaming.

As he sat there, the magnitude of the moment washed over him. It was as if the universe had conspired to align his efforts with a dream come true, a beacon of recognition shining brightly in his life. The world outside might have remained unchanged, but within the confines of his room, everything felt different—charged with possibility and the promise of what could be.

With a swift, almost reverent motion, he opened the app, his fingers dancing with a blend of urgency and anticipation. He navigated to your profile, each tap of the screen a deliberate step towards the moment he had been waiting for. There it was—a duet video that had emerged from the digital ether, a striking juxtaposition of his dance cover alongside your reaction.

As he tapped on the video, his heart quickened, a rhythmic drumbeat echoing his mounting excitement. The screen came alive with the vivid, familiar tableau of his own room, now transformed into a stage of personal significance. The opening notes of the song filled the space, the melody unfurling like a delicate ribbon, weaving through the air as he began the intricate routine he had labored over.

The choreography that had once been a solitary endeavor now pulsated with new life, accompanied by the visual testament of your response. Each movement he had practiced with meticulous care unfolded in harmony with your reactions, creating a seamless blend of artistry and acknowledgment. The scene was a breathtaking testament to his dedication, captured in the intimate setting of his room yet resonating with the grand significance of a dream realized.

As the video unfolded, you emerged on the split screen, your gaze fixed with a blend of concentration and admiration. The moment your eyes fell upon the opening moves, they widened in astonishment, and a radiant smile blossomed across your face. "Wow, Riki, you’re really good!" you exclaimed, your voice bubbling with genuine enthusiasm as you clapped your hands in appreciation.

Riki's heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of pride and joy. He watched, spellbound, as you attempted to mirror his moves, your own energetic efforts weaving through the choreography. The sincerity of your reaction was palpable, your infectious energy casting a warm glow over the video. As you struggled to keep pace with some of the more intricate steps, your laughter rang out, a melodious testament to your enjoyment.

"This is amazing!" you declared, your voice tinged with exhilaration. Your attempts to keep up with the more complicated segments were endearing, each misstep only adding to the charm of the moment. "You’ve got some serious skills," you added, the admiration in your tone leaving no doubt about the impact Riki’s performance had made.

As the video continued to play, your voice wove a tapestry of praise and encouragement, each word resonating with warmth and sincerity. Your genuine enthusiasm was evident in every comment you made, and the way you cheered him on with heartfelt fervor only heightened Riki's sense of disbelief. 

To see his idol reacting so positively, to hear you express admiration for his dance cover, was a dream realized beyond anything he had ever imagined. Each of your encouraging words was like a golden thread, stitching together the fabric of his hopes and aspirations. 

Riki felt a euphoric surge of joy and excitement, a bubbling elation that seemed to illuminate every corner of his being. It was as if every ounce of effort, every painstaking moment of practice had been acknowledged and celebrated by the very person he admired. The sense of validation that enveloped him was profound, a poignant reminder that his relentless dedication had truly borne fruit.

As the final frames of the video faded, Riki remained seated in a state of stunned reverence, his mind still reeling from the extraordinary moment. The room seemed to hold its breath as he absorbed the magnitude of what had just unfolded. It felt as though time itself had paused, allowing him to savor the profound significance of your reaction.

With a rush of excitement, he swiftly shared the duet on his own TikTok account. His fingers moved with a blend of urgency and care as he crafted a caption imbued with heartfelt gratitude, a testament to the overwhelming joy and appreciation he felt. 

Almost instantly, his phone began to buzz with a flurry of activity. Notifications erupted like a cascade of shooting stars, each one a glowing testament to the support and admiration pouring in from friends and fellow fans. Likes, comments, and messages flooded his screen, each one a vibrant expression of shared excitement and encouragement. The once-quiet room was now alive with the digital applause of those who celebrated his achievement alongside him.

Riki dedicated the remainder of the evening to a whirlwind of joy and celebration, his fingers dancing across the keyboard as he replied to the influx of comments and messages. Each notification was a burst of radiant support from the community, a testament to the genuine connection he felt with those who shared his excitement. His friends joined in the festivities, their enthusiasm mirroring his own, creating an atmosphere brimming with shared triumph.

The acknowledgment from you, his idol, filled him with an exhilarating sense of accomplishment. It was as though he had reached the pinnacle of a long-cherished dream, and the warmth of your appreciation deepened his admiration. He had always marveled at your talent and dedication from afar, but now, that admiration had evolved into something profoundly personal. The recognition you offered was a bridge between his passion and your artistry, and it made him feel as if he was floating on a cloud of euphoria.

Before retiring for the night, Riki watched the duet one final time. He immersed himself in the vivid moments of your reaction, savoring the way your eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and how your laughter seemed to dance along with the music. Each replay was a precious moment, a reminder of the incredible connection they had forged. This experience, etched into his memory like a cherished photograph, would be a beacon guiding his journey forward. The encounter with his idol had been a dream manifested into reality, and he eagerly anticipated the next chapter of his path, driven by the renewed vigor and passion it had ignited within him.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @d-dilemma (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @levi-09 @itjengirl @engentiny @clampclover @neos127 @jwonistic @mimisxs

🍉 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!

i could only ever dream of having thought of something as achingly beautiful as this piece of art. this is definitely something that will keep me up at night, and i honestly won’t be mad about it.

Sweet Hyunjin that doesn't like aegyo but does it for you to make you laugh when you're sad.

Sweet Hyunjin that always gives you a front piggyback when you fall asleep on the couch "my sleeping beauty, let's get you to bed"

Sweet Hyunjin that pretends to be reading but instead he studies every feature of your face until you catch him and he blushes "a lifetime wouldn't be enough for me to take in all your beauty"

Sweet Hyunjin that makes you rest your head on his lap when you watch movies. He definitely caresses your hair until you fall asleep. "My sweet angel" he'd whisper while carefully grazing his fingers on your cheek.

Sweet Hyunjin that presses his lips on yours and always opens his eyes after you open yours. He always hums softly and stays there, lost in the touch of your lips, his thumb grazing your cheek.

Sweet Hyunjin that holds back his tears whenever he says goodbye before a long tour. He cups your face with both of his hands and rests his forehead on yours to avoid making you cry before pressing his lips to it and hugging you tighter "I already miss you." he speaks with a soft and hushed voice.

Sweet Hyunjin that always looks back at your window and mouths "I love you" before he gets into the car. He definitely has tears brimming at his waterline as he looks at your window once more and gets inside the car.

Sweet Hyunjin that sends you a message as soon as he arrives at the destination "I want back...I want into your arms...please..."

Sweet Hyunjin that sometimes comes back a day earlier than he tells you because he wants to surprise you "I know what I said but my heart missed yours too much..."

Sweet Hyunjin that kisses you softly, melting into your arms as your fingers gently rake through his hair "Please hold me a little longer...I've missed your touch..."

Sweet Hyunjin that leaves sticky notes on the bathroom mirror when he wakes up before you "You're gorgeous!" "Still blushing after all this time?"

Sweet Hyunjin that pulls you closer at his chest and kisses your shoulder to wake you up "Good morning, ma chéri..."

Sweet Hyunjin that can never paint you like he wants to because "You're perfect, my love. It would take me a lifetime and I still wouldn't finish painting your beauty"

Sweet Hyunjin that goes grocery shopping but forgets the groceries because he bought flowers for you and he can't wait to get back home "I couldn't wait to see your smile. Yes, love, I promise I'll get the groceries this time hehe."

Sweet Hyunjin that watches the sunset with you, holding your back tightly at his chest while his arms rest on your waist. He often intertwines his fingers with yours, whispering into the crook of your neck "I love you, darling, so so much..."

Sweet Hyunjin that climbs the bed in the morning and presses soft kisses from your shoulders to your knuckles before looking into your eyes "My lady, breakfast is served..."

Sweet Hyunjin that kisses your tears when you crumble and start crying at the note hidden under the plate. "Is that a yes?" he giggles between tears and kisses your trembling hand before setting a delicate ring on your finger.

Do not copy/modify/repost without my permission.

©️sometimesleeknows All rights reserved.

📷 STILL FRAMES ( stray kids )

❛ After fainting during a photography class outing, you're tenderly cared for by a seemingly cold classmate, Seungmin, leading to an unexpected and heartwarming connection between the two of you.

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 30 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was written and completed a few months ago, but I recently found it and decided to share it with you guys! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Descriptions of being overheated, anxiety, and fainting, let me know if I missed anything!

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

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

The summer sun blazed with an intensity that bordered on cruelty, its golden rays casting a relentless furnace upon the cityscape. The air shimmered with the heat, every street and alley seemingly wincing under the oppressive glare. The heavens above were a fierce, unyielding expanse of cerulean, devoid of mercy or shade.

Amidst this searing trial, you navigated the urban labyrinth, your every step a testament to perseverance. Your digital camera, a faithful companion clutched in your hand, was your shield against the unrelenting heat. It was your instrument for capturing moments of beauty amid the starkness of summer’s tyranny.

As you trailed behind your classmates, each one a silhouette against the blistering backdrop, your gaze flitted with restless anticipation. You wandered through the city streets, your eyes seeking fragments of inspiration to breathe life into your assignment. The buildings rose around you like silent, stoic sentinels, their facades glistening with a harsh, metallic sheen. In the shimmering distance, you hoped for the elusive spark that would transform the mundane into something extraordinary.

The chatter of your classmates had long faded into a mere whisper, a distant hum that barely registered in the periphery of your consciousness. Conversations ebbed and flowed like an unremarkable current, a symphony of voices blending into a soft, indistinguishable murmur. Yet, this isolation was not an anomaly but a chosen retreat, a familiar haven you embraced with quiet contentment.

Surrounded by the bustling dynamics of camaraderie and friendship, you stood apart, an island of introspection amidst a sea of social engagement. It wasn't that you were unfriendly or aloof; your laughter often mingled with theirs, your voice joining the chorus of shared jokes and light-hearted banter before and after the structured rhythm of class. But when the subject turned to the art that captivated your soul, a transformation occurred.

Photography, to you, was not just a hobby but a profound and passionate pursuit. It demanded your full attention, a devotion that bordered on reverence. Your camera was not merely a tool but an extension of your vision, a conduit through which you sought to capture the world’s hidden beauty. The play of light and shadow, the fleeting expressions on faces, the intricate details of everyday objects—all of these were fragments of a larger, more intricate tapestry that you sought to weave with each click of the shutter.

In those moments, the world around you faded into soft focus, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your art. The bonds of friendship, though cherished, were momentarily set aside, replaced by a singular concentration that sharpened your senses and heightened your awareness. This solitary journey through the realm of photography was your sanctuary, a place where you found solace and inspiration in equal measure.

The only other person in this class who might share your penchant for solitude was Kim Seungmin. He, too, seemed to navigate the world with an air of quiet detachment. Yet, there were differences in how each of you manifested this introversion. While you made a concerted effort to connect with those around you—engaging in brief conversations and sharing moments of camaraderie when class was not in session—Seungmin was an enigma, a shadow that flitted away the moment the lecture ended.

Seungmin's presence in the classroom was a paradox of visibility and invisibility. He was always the first to arrive, slipping into the room with the quiet grace of dawn's first light. Despite his punctuality, he maintained a palpable distance from the rest of the group, an invisible barrier that set him apart. His demeanor, while not unfriendly, exuded a clear message of preference for solitude.

During the lulls and intermissions, when the classroom would usually be filled with animated discussions and the laughter of budding friendships, Seungmin could be found in a corner, absorbed in his own world. His fingers danced nimbly over his camera, adjusting settings, capturing candid moments, or meticulously reviewing his shots. At other times, he would be engrossed in his phone, the screen's glow reflecting the deep concentration etched on his face.

To you, Seungmin was a mystery, a puzzle wrapped in layers of quiet introspection. There was a certain allure in his aloofness, a silent invitation to unravel the story behind his reserved exterior. Yet, you never dared to cross the unspoken boundary that he had set. His solitary nature, so akin to your own, commanded a respect that you were unwilling to breach.

Seungmin remained a figure of curiosity, a fellow traveler on the path of photographic artistry who chose a parallel yet distinctly separate route. His quiet presence was a reminder of the myriad ways one could navigate the delicate dance between isolation and connection.

Despite his reserved and enigmatic demeanor, Seungmin possessed a rare and extraordinary talent for photography. His artistry behind the lens was nothing short of breathtaking, a fact that did not go unnoticed by anyone, least of all the professor. At the conclusion of each class, a ritual unfolded: the professor would meticulously review everyone's photographs, sifting through the myriad of images to select the ones that stood out the most. Without fail, Seungmin's work consistently earned a place among the top five, a testament to his remarkable skill.

Each of Seungmin's photographs was a revelation, an abstract masterpiece that captured the world through a uniquely creative lens. His ability to see beyond the ordinary and delve into the depths of the abstract added a layer of profound beauty to his images. Where others might see a simple street scene or a mundane object, Seungmin uncovered hidden dimensions and intricate patterns, transforming the mundane into the extraordinary.

His compositions were a symphony of light and shadow, each frame meticulously crafted to evoke emotion and provoke thought. There was an unmistakable depth to his work, a silent narrative that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. The interplay of colors, the juxtaposition of textures, and the harmony of forms all coalesced into visual poetry, each photograph a verse in the grand tapestry of his artistic vision.

The professor, a seasoned connoisseur of photographic art, often marveled at Seungmin's ability to convey such profound beauty through his images. His praise, though sparing, was always effusive when it came to Seungmin's work. "A true artist," he would often muse, holding up one of Seungmin's photos for the class to admire. "His eye for detail and his innovative approach are truly remarkable."

Seungmin's talent was unmistakable, a beacon of brilliance that shone through the veil of his quiet, self-imposed solitude. Each photograph was a testament to his exceptional ability to capture the essence of the world around him, a gift that set him apart and elevated him to the ranks of the truly gifted. In his hands, the camera became not just a tool but a portal to a realm of infinite beauty and wonder.

The dryness in your mouth abruptly pulled you from the intricate web of thoughts weaving around your enigmatic classmate, who now lingered at the back of the group, his camera poised to capture yet another fleeting moment. The parched sensation nagged at you, growing more insistent with each passing second. You reluctantly tore your gaze away from Seungmin, reaching into your backpack in search of your water bottle.

As your fingers fumbled through the contents of your bag, your eyes remained vigilant, scanning your surroundings to ensure you wouldn’t stumble over any unexpected obstacles. The bustling city around you was a blur of movement and color, but you couldn’t afford to let your guard down, not even for a moment.

Finally, your hand closed around the cool plastic of your water bottle. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. Your heart skipped a beat when you unscrewed the cap and peered inside, only to find a single, solitary sip left. The realization that your meager supply of water was almost depleted sent a ripple of anxiety through your chest. The class was far from over, and the sweltering heat showed no signs of relenting.

A wave of apprehension washed over you, prickling at your chest like tiny, invisible needles. You finished the last sip, the tepid water doing little to quench your thirst, and tried to steady your racing thoughts. With a shaky breath, you reassured yourself that you could endure the remaining time. Surely, there would be a place nearby where you could refill your bottle.

Determined not to let the anxiety take hold, you pressed on, reminding yourself that the city was vast and filled with countless opportunities. Somewhere among the winding streets and towering buildings, an oasis of hydration awaited. All you had to do was stay focused and keep an eye out for that small but vital reprieve.

The merciless sun, as if sensing your growing anxiety, seemed to blaze even hotter, its relentless rays wrapping you in a suffocating embrace. Beads of sweat clung to your skin in a sticky shimmer, making each movement feel laborious and sluggish. Despite the discomfort, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. Your eyes roamed the cityscape, seeking inspiration amidst the familiar charm of the urban sprawl.

You recalled the instructions given by your professor before the class set out on this journey. Find something that has two textures that contrast each other, and find a way to make them complement each other in your photo. It seemed a simple enough directive, especially considering the rich tapestry of your surroundings. Yet, the sun's unyielding assault made concentration an arduous endeavor.

As you navigated the bustling streets, your gaze flitted over the varied textures that adorned the city. Rough, weathered brick walls stood in stark contrast to the sleek, reflective surfaces of modern glass buildings. The interplay between the old and the new, the rugged and the refined, offered endless possibilities for your photographic assignment. But the oppressive heat made it difficult to hold onto any coherent thought for long.

The thirst that had been barely quenched earlier resurfaced with a vengeance, its gnawing intensity magnified by the knowledge that your water bottle was now empty. Your mouth felt as dry as the arid pavement beneath your feet, and each swallow seemed to scrape against a parched throat. Anxiety prickled at the edges of your consciousness, threatening to overwhelm your resolve.

You scanned the area for potential sources of relief, hoping to spot a fountain, a café, or any place where you could refill your bottle. The city, though familiar, seemed an endless expanse under the punishing sun. Every step felt heavier, the weight of your camera pressing down on you like a leaden reminder of your mission.

Yet, amidst the discomfort and the thirst, you remained determined. You sought the contrasting textures your professor had described, letting your eyes linger on the juxtaposition of smooth marble and rough concrete, or the way a delicate flower pushed through a crack in the asphalt. There was beauty to be found here, even in the harshest of conditions.

With a deep breath, you resolved to keep going, trusting that your perseverance would lead you to both the perfect shot and the much-needed water. The city, with all its contrasts and complexities, held the promise of discovery, if only you could endure a little longer.

"It’s so hot," you vaguely heard a classmate complain, her voice barely cutting through the heavy, sweltering air as she fanned herself with a weary hand. The others nodded in weary agreement, their faces etched with the shared misery of enduring the relentless sun. "We should all go for some ice cream after this," she suggested, a hint of hope sparking briefly in her eyes.

The idea of ice cream, cool and refreshing, was undeniably appealing. Yet, you didn’t dare voice your thoughts. The fear of worsening your situation held your tongue, a silent specter of anxiety that kept you from speaking up. As you glanced around at your classmates, their faces blurred by the heat, a flicker of desperation ignited within you.

You tried to remember if you had informed anyone about your fainting spells, but your mind drew a blank. The memories were elusive, slipping through your mental grasp like water through a sieve. The thought of revealing your vulnerability gnawed at you, and although you knew you should at least ask if anyone had spare water, your anxiety clung to you like a vice, rendering you silent at a moment when you needed help the most.

The world around you seemed to shimmer and waver in the oppressive heat, the vibrant colors of the city dulled by the haze of your growing discomfort. Your throat felt like sandpaper, each breath a laborious effort. The idea of speaking up, of asking for something as simple as water, felt insurmountable. Your classmates, though kind and considerate, seemed distant and unreachable in your moment of need.

Silent, you continued to endure, your thoughts a turbulent mix of desperation and fear. The sun beat down with unwavering intensity, each ray a reminder of your growing thirst and vulnerability. You scanned the faces around you, searching for a flicker of understanding, a sign that someone might notice your distress without you having to voice it.

But no such sign came. The conversations continued, the suggestions of ice cream and relief from the heat weaving through the group like a distant promise. You swallowed dryly, your silence a heavy burden, and resolved to press on. The city held the promise of respite somewhere, and you clung to the hope that you could find it before your strength gave out.

The more you pushed forward, the more acutely aware you became of the blood coursing through your veins. It was as if each heartbeat reverberated in your ears, amplifying the sense of impending dizziness. The city's vibrant energy seemed to swirl around you, the once steady ground beneath your feet now an unpredictable, undulating surface.

As the sensation of spinning grew more intense, you reluctantly allowed yourself to fall behind the group. You sought refuge against the cool, reassuring solidity of a nearby building, leaning against its weathered facade. Taking deep breaths, you tried to steady yourself, inhaling the warm, sun-baked air and exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm the storm within.

Your classmates, absorbed in their own artistic quests, continued on without noticing your absence. This anonymity, usually a comfort in your solitary pursuits, now only served to heighten your anxiety. You couldn't blame them for their oversight; it was common for someone to linger behind, captivated by a potential photograph. Still, the reality of being unnoticed in your moment of need felt like an invisible weight pressing down on your chest.

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to focus on the rhythm of your breathing, hoping it would anchor you in the present moment. The sounds of the city buzzed around you—distant conversations, the hum of traffic, the occasional birdcall—creating a cacophony that both grounded and overwhelmed you.

Opening your eyes, you glanced at the receding forms of your classmates, their laughter and chatter fading into the background. The distance between you and them felt insurmountable, not just in physical space but in the gulf of your unspoken struggle. You pressed your back more firmly against the building, feeling the rough texture of the brick through your thin shirt, a small reminder of the world outside your internal chaos.

You knew you needed to rejoin the group, to press on and complete the assignment, but the dizziness and rising anxiety made the thought of moving almost unbearable. You considered calling out, asking for help, but the words stuck in your throat, trapped by the fear of appearing weak or needy. Instead, you remained silent, hoping that your moment of respite would be enough to regain your composure.

Your body shivered uncontrollably despite the oppressive heat, a strange and unsettling contrast that heightened your sense of unease. The world around you seemed to blur and waver, your vision losing focus at an alarming pace. Each step felt like wading through thick, invisible molasses, and even the simplest movement became a Herculean effort. Despite this, you managed to lower yourself to the sidewalk, the rough pavement a harsh but necessary support.

You concentrate on your breathing, each inhale and exhale a desperate attempt to anchor yourself in the here and now. Yet, the ringing in your ears grew louder, a piercing sound that drowned out the city's ambient noise. It was a familiar, dreaded precursor to the fainting spell you knew was imminent, a relentless force poised to take control.

In the midst of this growing chaos, a voice pierced through the din, a lifeline in the swirling haze. "Hey, are you okay?" someone asked, their concern clear even through your muddled senses. The effort to lift your head and identify the speaker was beyond you; the world had narrowed to a tunnel of indistinct shapes and sounds.

You tried to respond, to assure them or perhaps to call for help, but your words dissolved into a string of incoherent babbles. Your tongue felt thick and uncooperative, your mind struggling to form coherent thoughts as the darkness edged closer. The last thing you registered was the overwhelming sense of vulnerability, the realization that your body was betraying you in this critical moment.

As the blackness enveloped your consciousness, you felt a profound disconnect from the world around you. The sounds, the heat, the distant figure of your classmate—all faded into a void, leaving you suspended in an abyss of nothingness. The struggle to stay present, to remain in control, slipped through your grasp like sand through your fingers.

In this void, time ceased to have meaning. Seconds or minutes, it was impossible to tell how long you lingered in that state of unconsciousness. The city, with its vibrant life and relentless sun, continued on without you, a stark reminder of your fragile existence.

When you finally awoke, it felt as though you were emerging from a dense fog, your mind struggling to piece together the fragmented reality around you. The disorientation was palpable, each moment stretching as your senses slowly reconnected with the world. Your head rested on someone’s lap, and though he was turned away, his presence was both unfamiliar and comforting in your vulnerable state.

Sounds began to filter through the haze, grounding you further. The low, urgent tone of the voice above you became clearer, barking orders with a mix of authority and concern. "Get some water!" Though you couldn't see who he was addressing, the urgency in his commands cut through the remnants of your confusion.

As your awareness sharpened, you noticed your arms were held aloft above your head. This small detail triggered a memory from your past, a practice you had shared with others in case your lips ever turned blue—a sign of your body’s desperate need for oxygen. The position was meant to untie the invisible knot in your lungs, allowing air to flow more freely and ease your breathing.

With this realization, a wave of gratitude washed over you. Even in your disoriented state, you recognized the significance of this gesture. The person cradling your head had either known or intuitively understood what to do, providing a lifeline in your moment of need.

You tried to speak, to express your thanks or perhaps to reassure the person helping you, but your voice was weak and unsteady. The effort drained you, and you opted to focus on your breathing, each inhale and exhale a conscious act of reclaiming control over your body.

It wasn’t until a groan escaped your lips that the person holding you turned to face you. Instantly, your face flushed with a deep wave of embarrassment upon recognizing him—it was Seungmin. The reassuring smile he sent your way was a beautifully rare sight, and for a fleeting moment, you felt your heart skip a beat. His lips moved, forming words that your still-dazed mind struggled to comprehend.

You blinked up at him, trying to focus, but the words eluded you. Noticing your confusion, Seungmin pursed his lips and turned to someone out of your line of sight. Almost immediately, a cold bottle of water with a straw was handed to him. He settled it gently by your head, positioning the straw so you could drink. The sensation of the cool water on your parched throat was heavenly, and you drank greedily, almost draining the bottle before you realized it.

Seungmin chuckled softly at your eagerness, the sound light and comforting. You felt your cheeks heat up again and averted your gaze, unable to meet his eyes. Despite your embarrassment, the relief from the water was undeniable. Your head cleared a bit more, the world coming into sharper focus.

Seungmin continued to watch over you, his expression a blend of concern and gentle amusement. His presence, usually so distant and enigmatic, now felt unexpectedly comforting. The awkwardness of the situation didn’t diminish the warmth of his care, and you felt a small surge of gratitude.

As you finished the last of the water, Seungmin reached out to steady the bottle, his fingers brushing against yours. The contact sent a jolt through you, but it was grounding, a reminder that you were not alone. He murmured something softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. Though the exact words were still lost to you, the intent was clear—he was there for you.

Gradually, the ringing in your ears subsided, and your breathing steadied. You risked a glance back at Seungmin, who was now focused entirely on you, his eyes full of quiet resolve. The vulnerability of the moment hung between you, unspoken but deeply felt.

You tried to muster a smile, a small token of thanks. Seungmin's eyes softened, and he returned the smile, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, the barriers of his usual aloofness seemed to fall away, revealing a depth of kindness that you hadn’t seen before.

Gradually, your hearing began to reawaken, stitching itself back together with your muddled senses. The familiar symphony of the bustling city—a cacophony of distant car horns, murmured conversations, and the steady hum of urban life—slowly emerged from the background noise, anchoring you to the present moment.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Seungmin’s voice cut through the haze, his tone edged with concern as he noticed your growing awareness. You managed a shaky nod, your head still spinning slightly. His brows were knitted together in a deep frown, a tangible expression of his worry.

“Can you sit up, or do you need to stay down a little longer?” he asked gently. “There’s no rush. Please, stay there if you’re still feeling dizzy.”

With a quiet determination, you placed your hands onto the pavement, the rough texture grounding you as you clumsily pushed yourself away from him. Seungmin’s steadying presence guided you with careful hands, helping you to lean against the same building you had previously sought solace from before losing consciousness. You groaned softly, closing your eyes to escape the persistent whirl of the world around you. When you reopened them, the dizziness had ebbed, though remnants of the earlier chaos lingered at the edges of your vision.

In front of you stood a middle-aged man, his apron stained with grease and his hands clasped together in a gesture of concern. His eyes were fixed on Seungmin, waiting for instructions, his face etched with worry for your well-being. The weight of his concern was palpable, and it added another layer to the unfolding scene.

Seungmin exhaled deeply, a sigh that seemed to release the tension of the moment. He settled himself beside you, his posture relaxed yet attentive. He wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them close to his chest, and his gaze remained focused on you with an almost protective intensity.

The ambient noise of the city continued to swirl around you, but in this small, sheltered space, it felt as though time had slowed. Seungmin’s presence was a steady anchor amidst the chaos, his concern a quiet reassurance that you were not alone. The man in the greasy apron lingered nearby, ready to assist at a moment’s notice, his worried gaze shifting between you and Seungmin.

The world slowly regained its equilibrium, the spinning sensation giving way to a more stable awareness. The tenderness of the pavement beneath you and the warmth of Seungmin’s concern combined to create a cocoon of comfort, allowing you to regain your composure and begin to piece together the events of the past moments.

“How are you feeling?” The middle-aged man’s voice was gentle, his eyes darting between you and Seungmin with a mixture of concern and kindness. “You should eat something. Come inside—whatever you get is on the house.”

A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over you, coloring your cheeks a deep red. You felt a pang of guilt for having worried such a considerate stranger. Just as you were about to politely decline the generous offer, Seungmin’s voice intervened with a firm yet caring tone.

“I agree, Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying a note of unwavering resolve. “You need to eat something after fainting like that. Let’s go inside.”

Seungmin’s tone left no room for argument, the decisiveness of his words compelling you to acquiesce. You sighed softly, nodding in acceptance. The man’s face lit up with a wide grin, clearly pleased by your agreement. With a quick, eager step, he rushed into the restaurant behind you.

Seungmin rose swiftly, brushing off any imaginary dust from his clothes with a swift motion. He extended his hands towards you, his expression one of quiet encouragement. You hesitated for a moment, then grasped his warm hands. The touch was gentle, and a subtle tingle spread through your fingers, a physical reminder of his comforting presence.

Though you felt more stable now, Seungmin’s hands remained hovering near your waist, a silent gesture of support as you made your way inside the restaurant. His protective stance was reassuring, a steadying force guiding you through the threshold.

The restaurant’s interior greeted you with a comforting embrace—a cool respite from the heat outside. The space was warmly lit, with the soft hum of conversation and the tantalizing aroma of food creating a cozy ambiance. 

The tantalizing aroma of Korean comfort foods wafted through the air, weaving its way into your senses and causing your stomach to rumble in eager response. Each fragrant note of sizzling meats, simmering stews, and freshly steamed vegetables seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace, making you profoundly grateful for both the man's generous offer and Seungmin's insistence.

Seungmin guided you with gentle assurance to a table nestled at the far end of the restaurant, where the hum of conversation was softer and the space felt more intimate. The dim lighting at this secluded spot cast a gentle glow, creating a cocoon of warmth and comfort. He carefully pulled out your chair, his movements measured and considerate, and nudged you forward slightly to ensure you were settled. With a courteous smile, he then made his way around the table, taking his own seat directly across from you.

His smile was a touch awkward, a charming contrast to the seriousness he had shown earlier. He glanced around the room, searching for the man who had so kindly attended to you, only to spot him approaching with a welcoming presence. The man carried a bottle of water and two menus, the promise of nourishment and choice clearly reflected in his hands.

As he reached the table, he placed the items before you with a friendly nod. You accepted the bottle and menus with a grateful bow and a warm smile, your heart swelling with appreciation for his kindness. The bottle of water was cool to the touch, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the restaurant, while the menus promised a delightful array of dishes.

Seungmin’s gaze softened as he watched you, his concern now mingled with a gentle sense of relief. The atmosphere around you seemed to ease, the initial tension giving way to a shared moment of calm. As you began to peruse the menus, the delicious scents and the comfort of the setting enveloped you, making you feel more at ease and ready to enjoy the simple pleasures of a meal with someone who had shown such unexpected care.

The air between you was thick with awkwardness, a palpable sense of uncertainty hanging in the space after such an intensely personal moment. You busied yourself by fixating on the vibrant images on the menu, using them as a comforting distraction from the lingering embarrassment. Each picture of steaming bowls of soup and colorful plates of food seemed to blur together, a vivid kaleidoscope that kept your eyes occupied and your mind from dwelling on the recent upheaval.

After a period of shared silence, you both placed your orders, the clatter of menus and the murmur of your choices filling the brief lull. There was no longer any barrier between you and the reality of the situation. With a deep breath, you gathered your courage and, in a voice softer than you intended, you managed to say, “Thank you.” Your eyes remained firmly fixed on the table, refusing to meet his gaze, as your cheeks and ears flamed with a blush of sincere embarrassment. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could almost feel his warm, understanding smile directed at you.

“You don’t have to thank me at all,” Seungmin replied, his voice infused with genuine sincerity. “I hope you don’t mind, but I texted the professor to let him know what happened, so he’s aware we won’t be finishing the class with everyone else today.” His words were a pleasant surprise, causing your eyes to widen slightly as you briefly met his gentle gaze. The kindness of his gesture momentarily pierced through your discomfort, but you quickly looked away, your shyness reasserting its hold.

In response to his concern, you offered a grateful nod and a shy smile, the simplest acknowledgments of his thoughtfulness. The question he posed next was gentle, yet it carried an undercurrent of genuine concern. “Do you pass out often?”

At his question, you let out a soft, resigned sigh, the sound almost like a whisper of the weariness you felt. “Sometimes,” you began, your voice barely more than a murmur. “It’s been happening since I was a child, though no one seems to know why. I’ve been checked for things like epilepsy, but they haven’t found anything.” The words felt heavy on your tongue, each syllable revealing a fragment of a long-standing uncertainty.

Seungmin’s gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes filled with a deep, attentive concern as he absorbed each word with tender care. His silence was a soothing balm, a quiet testament to his empathy. As you recalled the moment he had lifted your arms, a question escaped you almost impulsively: “How did you know to lift my arms?”

His initial reaction was one of surprise, his eyes widening as he blinked at your sudden inquiry. But the astonishment quickly softened into a shy, almost hesitant smile. “Oh,” he began, his voice gentle. “My mother also had fainting spells, usually when it was too hot or if she had an injury.” His revelation was accompanied by a look of nostalgia, a subtle hint of the personal connection he felt to the subject.

You were taken aback once more by this shared experience. “Your mother sounds a lot like me,” you responded, your tone light but tinged with genuine reflection. “I also faint for similar reasons—when I’m overheated or emotionally overwhelmed.”

A serene silence settled between you as Seungmin gave a thoughtful nod, his eyes drifting into a distant gaze that spoke of deep, unspoken reflections. The quietude was a gentle cocoon, wrapping around both of you as he lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts.

You turned your gaze to the window beside you, your eyes tracing the hurried figures moving briskly down the bustling street. Each passerby was a blur of motion and color, a stark contrast to the stillness enveloping your corner of the restaurant. The scene outside seemed almost surreal, a vivid tapestry of urban life against the backdrop of your subdued conversation.

Soon, the soft clinking of dishes announced the return of the man from behind the counter. He placed your meals before you with a warm, welcoming smile, the steam rising from the dishes creating a fragrant mist that made your mouth water in eager anticipation. You bowed in gratitude, your appreciation for the meal palpable in your respectful gesture.

With a mixture of impatience and hunger, you watched him take his first bite, his expression shifting to one of satisfied pleasure. Unable to resist any longer, you dove into your own meal, an involuntary sigh of delight escaping your lips as the flavors danced on your palate. Each bite was a revelation, the taste a symphony of comfort and culinary excellence.

In moments like these, the silence between you and Seungmin felt less like an awkward void and more like a shared, unspoken agreement. The simple act of enjoying a meal together, coupled with the mutual understanding forged through your earlier conversation, made the quiet a soothing presence rather than an uncomfortable gap. The gentle hum of the restaurant’s ambiance and the shared pleasure of the food created a cocoon of calm, transforming the once-unbearable silence into a space of peaceful companionship.

As the last morsels of your meal were savored, a lull settled between you, allowing your mind to finally formulate a conversation starter. You swallowed your bite with a mix of anticipation and nervousness before glancing up at Seungmin. His features were softened in concentration, his gentle demeanor captivating as he focused on the last remnants of his dish.

“So,” you began tentatively, your voice betraying a hint of shyness, “how did you get into photography?” The simple question was laden with curiosity and the desire to connect, and as his eyes met yours, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Seungmin’s initial silence was a quiet contemplative pause, his gaze tracing the lines of your face with a thoughtful intensity before he began to speak. “My grandfather passed away from Alzheimer’s,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. The weight of his words seemed to settle heavily in the space between you, and your heart tightened with a pang of empathy.

He continued, his tone imbued with a delicate sadness. “He always spoke so fondly of my grandmother, who died before I was born. He used to thank her for her love of photography because it helped him hold onto who he was and the life he lived for a long time. To keep his memories vivid, I started taking pictures of everything around me. I had them developed so he could have tangible memories to hold onto—hundreds of photos of myself, my parents, my cousins, but also of the places I cherished: my room, his house, my house…simple, everyday moments that mattered to him.”

The silence that followed was heavy, laden with the significance of his words. You struggled to find the right response, your mind racing to articulate the depth of your feelings. Seungmin’s smile was tinged with a bittersweet nostalgia as he turned his focus back to his meal, leaving you in a space filled with reflection.

After a few moments, you finally found your voice, your tone warm and sincere. “That’s incredibly sweet, Seungmin. I think it was very noble of you to do that for your grandfather.” His response was a soft grin, his cheeks flushing a delicate pink as he swallowed. The sight of his smile, so genuine and heartfelt, made your heart swell with an emotion that was both tender and profound.

In that moment, Seungmin’s vulnerability and kindness transformed your perception of him. The image of his earlier aloofness seemed to fade into a distant memory, replaced by a newfound appreciation for the depth of his character. His quiet grace and the meaningful gesture he shared painted him in a more beautiful light, revealing layers of compassion that drew you closer to him.

As the last remnants of your meal were savored, Seungmin turned his attention to you with a curious gleam in his eyes. “What about you? How did you get into photography?” he inquired, his voice gentle and inviting. You had finished your meal shortly after him, the shared silence now ripe for deeper conversation.

You gave a shy shrug, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I fear my story is not as sweet as yours,” you began, your tone light yet introspective. Seungmin’s playful roll of his eyes and encouraging nod urged you to continue, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Well,” you continued, your gaze drifting as you recall your past, “my mother always bought magazines whenever she went grocery shopping, so our house was filled with stacks and stacks of them.” A nostalgic smile crossed your face as you painted a picture of your childhood. “I remember being a child, endlessly flipping through those magazines whenever boredom set in. I would get lost in the pages, captivated by the photographs. They seemed to tell stories of their own, each image a window into a world I found enchanting.”

Your voice grew softer, imbued with a gentle warmth as you shared how that fascination evolved. “One day, I decided to try my hand at capturing my own moments, inspired by those images I loved so much. What started as a simple curiosity quickly became a cherished hobby. The camera became a means for me to explore and create, and somehow, it just stuck with me.”

As you finished, you looked up to find Seungmin’s eyes still fixed on you, his expression a blend of interest and appreciation. The connection you felt through the shared conversation seemed to deepen, the personal stories weaving a tapestry of understanding and mutual respect. In the dim light of the restaurant, the simple act of sharing your paths through photography brought a new layer of intimacy to your budding friendship, making the quiet moments between you all the more meaningful.

“I think it’s cute,” Seungmin remarked with a lighthearted chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. The unexpected compliment made your cheeks flush with a delicate shade of pink, a mix of surprise and shyness coloring your reaction.

“You’re a good photographer, by the way,” he added, his eyes twinkling with sincere praise. 

The words hung in the air like a soft melody, but you couldn’t help but scoff, rolling your eyes in an exaggerated manner. “I’ve made it to the professor’s top five favorites only twice since I joined his class last year. You’re always the one receiving accolades for your work, which, I must admit, are truly remarkable.”

Seungmin’s gaze remained steady, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I think it’s a bit unfair for you to view it that way,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm. “The whole idea of being in someone’s top five is a flawed measure of talent. It’s based on one person’s subjective preferences and doesn’t truly reflect our abilities. While I’m grateful for the recognition, I’ve seen your photos and always found them to be exceptional.”

He continued, his words flowing with thoughtful consideration. “You have a remarkable skill for capturing unique subjects in their most authentic form. It’s a talent to reveal their essence so clearly, especially within the constraints of our assignments. It’s something I find quite impressive and not easy to achieve.”

The sincerity in Seungmin’s voice, combined with his unwavering gaze, made your heart swell with a mix of gratitude and admiration. The conversation took on a new layer of depth, as his words not only offered comfort but also illuminated a newfound appreciation for your own work. In the softly lit restaurant, amidst the lingering aroma of your meal, his encouragement created a warm and supportive atmosphere, allowing you to see your art through a more appreciative lens.

A warm blush spread across your cheeks, a vivid response to the cascade of compliments from Seungmin. The praise seemed to flutter around you like soft, golden leaves in the breeze, making your face flush a deep crimson. Seeking refuge from the intensity of the moment, you allowed your gaze to wander towards the window, where the sun was gently descending, casting a golden hue over the city.

“Oh,” you began, your voice tinged with an innocent attempt to redirect the conversation. “How long have we been here? The sun is setting.” The urgency in your tone was barely concealed, and Seungmin, following your gaze, glanced out with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed the fading light and chuckled softly.

“I should probably start heading home,” you continued, a note of unease threading through your voice. “I don’t like walking home alone at night.” The admission was laced with a quiet vulnerability, and as you spoke, you could feel the familiar pang of anxiety gnawing at you.

Seungmin’s head turned sharply towards you, his expression shifting to one of genuine concern. “I’ll walk you home,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth and sincerity that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. “It’s no problem at all.”

A playful back-and-forth ensued as you and Seungmin debated the offer of him walking you home. Despite your initial reluctance, a sense of acceptance settled over you, allowing you to concede to his persistent kindness. You attempted to settle the bill for your meal, but the generous man from earlier refused with a warm, unwavering smile. Even when Seungmin stepped in to offer payment, the man remained steadfast in his refusal. In the end, you both left a generous tip, a token of your gratitude for his exceptional kindness.

With the bill settled and the evening stretching out before you, you and Seungmin began your walk towards your apartment building. The path was bathed in the soft, fading light of dusk, casting long shadows and a serene glow over the city streets. As you strolled side by side, the conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and lighthearted banter.

The initial stiffness gradually melted away, replaced by a growing sense of ease and camaraderie. It was genuinely delightful to witness this side of Seungmin—a side that seemed to elude the confines of your shared photography class. His laughter, his thoughtful insights, and the warmth of his presence revealed a depth of character that was both refreshing and endearing.

In the gentle embrace of the evening, as the city lights began to twinkle like distant stars, the walk became more than just a journey home. It was a moment of genuine connection, a rare and cherished glimpse into Seungmin’s world, which felt like an honor to experience.

Eventually, you find yourself standing before the gleaming glass doors that lead into the lobby of your apartment building. The weight of the day’s end settles upon you, a bittersweet twinge in your chest as you come to terms with the departure of this unexpectedly pleasant companionship. The evening air, cool and gently perfumed with the scent of blooming night flowers, wraps around you both as you pause at the threshold.

Seungmin, his hands casually tucked into the front pockets of his jacket, rocks back and forth on his heels. The motion, coupled with his contemplative gaze, creates a picture of relaxed anticipation. His presence, so close to yours, carries a sense of warmth and quiet intimacy.

“This is me,” you murmur, your voice a soft whisper, blending with the stillness of the evening. You turn to face him fully, a mixture of gratitude and reluctance in your eyes. “Thank you again for taking care of me earlier. I’m really happy you were there.”

His response is a smile—genuine and radiant—that lights up his features and seems to fill the space between you with a comforting glow. Your heart swells at the sight, an involuntary smile curving your lips in return. Seungmin’s eyes hold a tender seriousness as he speaks. “Please take it easy, rest all that you can,” he advises, his concern palpable in his tone.

You nod in agreement, the sincerity of his words resonate deeply with you. The air between you feels charged with unspoken sentiments, a silent understanding blossoming amidst the dimming light. “It was really nice to spend time with you,” he continues, his admission eliciting a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

“I had a really nice time with you too,” you reply, your voice imbued with genuine warmth. “Maybe we can do it again sometime soon—without me having to pass out for it.”

At your light-hearted comment, Seungmin laughs—a sound that is both musical and contagious. The laughter bubbles up between you, mingling with the evening air, and you find yourself laughing along, the shared moment creating a lingering sense of joy.

As you part ways, the memory of his smile and the warmth of his laughter accompany you, leaving a soft, lingering glow in your heart that makes the end of this day feel less like a farewell and more like a promise of things to come.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist (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! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

heyheyheyhey green! how are you? how’s summer going?

i noticed you haven’t been very active recently and i just wanted to know if you’re doing okay

- 🦨

Hi 🦨!

Sorry I haven’t been so active, I’m going through a miserable case of writer’s block :( I’m trying to write a little bit every day anyway so that I don’t just completely abandon all my projects but it’s been very rough.

On a more positive note, I’ve recently joined the P1Harmony fandom so I added that to the list of groups I’m willing to write about so hopefully writing about something other than SKZ will help with my creativity!

Anyway, my summer has been spent on YouTube for the most part lol BUT I just went to Pride for the first time last weekend which was pretty fun! Walked in in true queer fashion: arguing with my ex girlfriend 💀

How are you? How’s your summer going?

hello?!?!!?! i just read ch 5 of your felix series and i’m in tears with hyunjin’s story what the hell??? it was so good!! i can’t wait to read more!!

🦨

THANK YOU!! i feel like hyunjin is lowkey my favorite character in this series and i am totally not projecting my own issues with religion onto him

hi!!! ah okay, so i would definitely enjoy a threesome (as a poly bi it’s definitely my cup of tea) as long as the reader stays the dominant one. usually the female character becomes a switch or submissive when two men are involved and that’s not really my thing…

as for details, ummm, maybe a nuggetz threesome? i’m okay with with some light bdsm, a bit of sensory play, pegging (obviously), but nothing too violent. i would also love to see gunil being taken care of in any way you’d like, since he looks after our heroes so well and he deserves some love too!!

i’ll have to think a bit more about what i’d like for jungsu and ode, but hopefully all of this is enough detail for now!!

thank you for being so great and for responding so quickly!!

- 🍀

Hello 🍀, my beloved! You know, when I saw that you're not only a soft-dom that loves pegging as much as I do, but that you're also a part of the queer community — I can't even begin to explain the excitement that rushed through me (I'm a non-binary pansexual who's currently a bit curious about the whole poly dynamics but haven't gotten the chance to experiment yet). I just love, love, love finding fellow queers within the K-Pop/K-Rock world. But anyway, I totally understand the frustration that comes with having most if not all female readers/characters suddenly become a switch or submissive when more than one man is involved during sex. I just think it's so much sexier whenever women remain the dominant one while her pathetic little men are absolute messes because of her.

That said, I really hope you enjoy the Nuggetz threesome! Like I told you before, it's the nastiest yet sexiest thing I've written to date and I'm honestly so proud of it.

❤️ THE PRICE OF PLEASURE ❤️

𝐤. 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 ❤️ 8.0k ❤️ 𝐥. 𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧

As for Gunil's piece, this one is a lot softer. Writing the Nuggetz threesome definitely proved to be a lot harder than I initially anticipated (don't hesitate to request another threesome in the future though, I really enjoyed it!) so I was actually really glad to have Gunil's request be a little more simple since it was a good come-down from the threesome. I really, really liked it for the same reasons you mentioned — he takes care of our Heroes so well, so he definitely deserves to be taken care of in exchange :( Hope you enjoy it! ── ( 𝐱𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 )

❤️ TONIGHT IS ABOUT YOU ❤️

𝐠. 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐥 ❤️ 4.5k

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

and then there’s ode,

his was kinda difficult to come up with because i feel like he’s more dom leaning, but occasionally he’ll let his partner take control

i was thinking maybe the reader’s fingers go a little lower than expected during a blowjob or he heard about pegging from another member and he was curious, because anal play can’t be that good right?

so he asks the reader if they’d feel comfortable just experimenting. like he doesn’t want to go all the way just yet (can’t believe i just said that), but like just starting with fingering and maybe working his way up to a vibrating plug or something? idk i trust your brain!

and that should be every member i believe! i’ll definitely be back with more, but i wanted to request them all first because there’s not enough xdinary heroes fics😭😭

thank you again for everything!!!

- 🍀

Hello! You're so right about O.de being more of a dominant in bed, but I also really do feel like he wouldn't be opposed to experimenting if he's comfortable enough with his partner. I hope this piece does your vision justice! ── ( 𝐱𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 )

─── ⋆⋅☆ CURIOUS PLEASURES (MDNI) 3.9K

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

SHIBARI WITH SKZ.

ot8 x gender neutral reader.

content warnings: shibari, sex, intense emotional connection, anal fingering (male receiving)

summary: i love shibari with my entire soul and i feel like we as a society don’t talk about it enough — particularly about how emotional it can be if done right.

💭 GUIDELINES ‣ LIBRARY ‣ TAGLIST & ANONS ‣ IN PROGRESS ‣ REQUEST LIST ‣ PINNED

🪢 BANG CHAN.

Chan would like tying you up but would mostly enjoy being tied up himself. I feel like when you first proposed the idea to him, he was nervous but decided to try for you anyway and ended up loving it. He’s a guy that is constantly dealing with stress and anxiety, so it’s almost a healing experience to fully let go of control and letting you do whatever you saw fit. It usually ended with you riding him gently, and he’ll be the type to tear up a little after you both cum because the time you’d just spent together was so deeply emotional.

🪢 LEE KNOW.

He himself doesn’t get tied up, but I feel like he would like tying up his partner using the shibari method. I feel like he would enjoy it quite a lot, especially if it leads to some electrifying, intensely emotional sex once the tying part is done. Like he’ll be thrusting into you deeply yet slowly, massaging all the sensitive spots he knows of while doing so. He wants to hear your moans that sound so preciously different from the way it sounds during regular sex — this one comes from the serenity of your mind, it’s everything you feel pushed into the soft sounds he coaxed out of you. Your face, the sounds, the way your body moved in rhythm with his despite the restraints — he’ll cum and keep going until he’s had several orgasms and he can’t anymore, nothing turns him on like being like this does.

🪢 CHANGBIN.

Tie him up. He’ll tie you up every once in a while, but mostly him, especially if done in front of a mirror. I feel like he’d be the kind of guy to enjoy watching himself being tied up with pink rope, and the way you’d leave a trail of kisses everywhere. He adores having sex with you like that, and he’ll cum if you play with his hole just right. He’s so soft, so buff and strong but he’d look so stunning tied up like that, whimpering your name as he grows more and more needy.

🪢 HYUNJIN.

I feel like this might be a genuine kink that he has, but it might be reserved to the lovers he shares the deepest, most intense connections with. Something about the way he describes himself as an emotional guy, his artistic perspective, his gentleness — everything makes me feel like he’d love this as much as I do. His touch would be so tender, and he’d caress your skin with every knot he made, and once you’re all tied up he just pulls you onto his lap while you’re both naked and he just holds you for a moment there. Like it’s not necessarily a sexual thing for him, just the amount of trust it takes to be in that type of mindset while tied up like that. It’s a form of bonding for him. He also likes being the one tied up by his lover, and he’ll be extra clingy and would need all the praise in the world before, during and after.

🪢 HAN.

He would definitely be the one to be tied up, he’s just the kind of guy who adores being at the complete mercy of his partner. It’s the ultimate sign of trust and intense love for him — he trusts you to care for him when in such a vulnerable state, and therefore that shows how much he also loves you. Constant eye-contact is very much needed, he needs to see your face, your expressions, everything. Kissing is more than encouraged as well, just call him a good boy or a pretty baby and he’ll be melting on the spot.

🪢 FELIX.

Something in my gut tells me that he would be the one to briefly bring it up as a kink he’s heard about before and found interesting, but then once you do research and seriously suggest trying it, he would be nervous. Perhaps it’s the level of intimacy, or the fear of doing it wrong — but he would need some time to think on it. Eventually, he’ll agree and it’ll lead to the most mind-blowing sex either of you have ever experienced. His hands are just so soft and gentle as he ties you up, and then when he finally fucks you, it’s all praises and eye-contact and him just fully catering to your every need for as long as you wish.

🪢 SEUNGMIN.

Doing shibari with him would be a bit more rough, I think. He’ll be domming you, but it’s a mixture of stern and soft. The time spent tying you up would be soft and he’d have his twinkling brown eyes on you the whole time while making you laugh a little with his jokes to soothe you. But once he’s inside of you, it’s like an animal takes over and he’s thrusting in and out of you at such an ínstense speed, you have no other option but to scream his name as you cum several times before he does.

🪢 I.N.

The first time you both experiment with shibari, he’s the one getting tied up. He’s not much for physical affection, but something about it made him grave for kisses and squeezes as often as possible. He needed constant reassurance as you worked, he was evidently nervous since it was new to him. It didn’t lead to sex though, because as soon as you wrapped your hand around his cock, he was feeling a little overstimulated but he didn’t want to be untied; he just wanted you close, to feel your skin on his while his mind floated away. Like with Hyunjin, shibari served as a bonding experience for the two of you.

(🏷️) taglist : @grandpafelixx

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Hi Green!

This is 🩷, I know I already requested but I had another idea that I really wanted to share! If you don’t want to write it, that’s totally fine, just ignore this :)

It can be with either Gaon from Xdinary Heroes or Jongseob from P1Harmony — I couldn’t decide to save my life, I’m sorry! But anyway, here’s the idea:

He and the reader grew up together, and all their lives Reader was just a tomboy. However, a couple of weeks earlier, Reader came out as a trans guy and expressed wanting to do something with their looks to better fit their identity. So he does a bit of research and buys Reader his first binder/trans tape, and since they’re dating at this stage of their lives, he helps Reader put it on while rattling off the things he learned off the internet regarding how to use the binder/trans tape. It’s just overall a very endearing scene. They can maybe go out to dinner together and maybe the Reader is very anxious about being out with the binder/trans tape for the first time but he keeps reassuring them that they look very handsome.

I know I only request trans-related things but there’s just such a massive lack of such content and I really hope you’d consider writing them! Again, you don’t have to! Thank you in advance!

Beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful 🩷! This (and the first one you sent that I’m currently working on) are probably my favorite requests. I’m masc non-binary, which means I fall under the trans umbrella, so these were especially healing for me. So, so self indulgent. Your requests is and will always be welcomed, I seriously mean this. There really is a devastating lack of trans content in general, but especially within the KPOP fanfic community. These pieces might not do as well as other cisgender-based fics but they’ll always have a very special place in my heart. I love you so much, and I hope you’re doing well!

🫐 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 🫐

𝐤. 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐛 🫐 p1harmony 🫐 1.6k

UNDER THE SUNSET GLOW was written first purely because this guy gives me insane gender envy. I almost left it at that, but honestly I suddenly got inspired to also write DRESSED FOR LOVE at the last second so here you have both! Also, no, I didn't purposely set out to make the aesthetics match the trans flag, it just happened like that which means it was destiny.

💐 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 💐

𝐤. 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 💐 xdinary heroes 💐 1.9k

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )