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noona-la-la-la · 5 years

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Flight 18

Summary: Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul. You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat. Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

Wordcount: 9500 ish. This was only supposed to be a small drabble, but I got carried away.

Warnings: Sex sex sex! Oral sex for everybody. Finger banging. Penis in vagina. Sex with strangers! Sex in a bathroom so if you are germ phobic, good luck with that. Also, dirty talking vulgarity galore.

Notable: It’s Hoseok y’all! So you can stop nagging me about how I don’t have any Hobi fics!

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“See something you like?” The man sitting across from you at the boarding gate stretched out his hands and spread his knees further apart, as if inviting you to take a closer look.

“I… I’m sorry. I was just zoning out. I didn’t even realize I was looking in your direction,” you lied.

“Uh-huh. Sure. Tell yourself whatever you need to, “ he replied with a smirk.

You ignored him, raising the book you had been reading higher, covering your face in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. The truth was you had been staring, but not because you were attracted. Instead you were appalled that anyone would show up to an airport dressed like that.

This guy, whoever he was, had shown up to the airport wearing shorts that appeared to be nothing more than a pair of gray sweats that had been cut off at the knees and a denim jacket that he had only bothered to use two buttons to close. He had on no shirt underneath and with his jacket being barely closed, a large portion of his upper chest and his abdomen were visible. His sweat-shorts were hung low on his hips to make sure the waistband of his Balenciaga underwear was visible for all to see. A hat kept his hair completely covered -- the only modest thing about him.

To think that guy would presume that you might be looking at him because you found him attractive was laughable. He looks like the kind of guy who got kicked out of his apartment for not paying rent. Probably couldn’t afford rent because he wasted all his money on stupid designer underwear. His landlord probably kept the rest of his wardrobe as collateral.

You stifled a laugh, amused by your own thoughts on why this stranger showed up to the airport looking like that. Attracted to him? As if.

Peeking over the top of your book to surreptitiously glance at the man again, you were relieved to see his eyes were closed. His arms were folded across his chest, causing his jacket to ride up some more, bringing his belly button into view. So tacky, you thought. Although, you had to admit to yourself, it was a nice belly button on a very nice abdomen… No, you shook your head, it doesn’t matter how nice his body is when this guy clearly has no sense of propriety.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we will now begin pre-boarding for Flight 18 to Inchon International Airport, South Korea…

You gathered your things and moved with the throng of people queuing up to board the plane. The flight had already been delayed by more than an hour and people seemed anxious to move as quickly as possible. Normally you would dread the 13 hour flight from Los Angeles to Seoul, but you had saved enough frequent flyer miles to get an upgrade to business class. You had taken this flight too many times in the noisy and cramped economy class and you were almost looking forward to relaxing in your extra long fully reclining seat with personal multimedia console and full bar service.

The business class cabin had wide seats staggered so as to allow some semblance of privacy. The center aisle had side by side seating separated by a low wall with a retractable window, allowing for traveling companions to chat or for strangers to put the window up and avoid interaction with each other. You were disappointed to see you had one of the center aisle seats instead of the single seats by the windows -- but took comfort that the wall between you and your neighbor meant that you wouldn’t be trapped in some idle chit chat for 13 hours.

You were struggling to get your carry on luggage into the overhead compartment when you heard a voice, “You aren’t a stalker, are you?”

With a final shove, your bag slid into place and you looked across your seat to see the man who would be sitting next to you for the flight. It’s was mister half-dressed-Balenciaga-underwear himself.

“Excuse me?” you asked.

“I asked if you were a stalker. First I catch you staring at me and now you’re sitting next to me… Look. I’m happy to give you an autograph or whatever, but I need to know you aren’t going to be one of those people who tries to take pictures of me while I’m asleep,” he said with a straight face.

“Is this some kind of joke? Why would anyone take pictures of you when you sleep?”

He looked at you inquisitively, one eyebrow cocked upward, and paused before replying. “So, you don’t know who I am?”

You tilted your head to the side, trying to see him from a different angle. “Am I supposed to know who you are? Are you famous or something?”

He thrust his hands in his pockets, causing his shorts to ride even lower on his hips, and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I’m not famous enough if you don’t know me. Sorry to have interrupted you, please carry on.” With that, he plopped down in his seat and pulled a pair of headphones out of his bag, indicating the time for talking was now over.

You were left a bit flustered by the interaction. What a weird guy, you thought to yourself, hoping that this would be the last time you had to speak to him. You settled into your seat and closed your eyes as you awaited take-off but, despite your best efforts, your mind started to drift to thoughts of the man seated next you. What is this guy’s deal? Is he actually famous or is he just screwing with me? He is kind of good looking. But he’s so brash. He’d have to be brash to dress like that in public. Tacky. Tacky and brash… and a bit good looking.

“Would you like a drink, madam?” The flight attendant interrupted your thoughts to take your order.

“I’ll just have some water for now, thanks.”

“That sounds good,” the man next to you lowered the window that separated you to more easily speak to the attendant. “Only can you make mine a soda water? And add some vodka in there with it?”

“Yes, sir.” The attendant giggled, finding the way he ordered cute. You just rolled your eyes.

When the attendant returned, she handed you a small bottle of water and then reached across you to pass your neighbor his vodka and soda. You waited for a minute, assuming he would put the window back up, but when he didn’t -- you leaned forward to reach the button to put it up yourself only to be startled by his head suddenly popping through the opening.

“You really don’t know who I am?” He was leaning forward over the armrest, encroaching on your private space.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t. Is that a problem?” You wondered at this man’s ego.

He flashed a wide smile. “No. It’s actually great. It means when you were staring at me back at the boarding gate, it was because you were attracted to me and not because you were looking at a celebrity.” His eyes wandered across your body, making no attempt to hide that he was looking you up and down. “You aren’t too bad looking yourself, you know.”

You were agitated by his assumptions and blurted out the first thing that came to your mind, “You aren’t even wearing a shirt! How could I not look? Who dresses like that in public?!”

“So you’re more into my body than my face? That’s okay. I can work with that.” He winked at you before leaning back into his own seat and raising the window.

Stunned into silence, you stared at the barrier that separated the two of you. You could only see his hat poking up above the retractable window and you contemplated snatching it off his head and beating him with it. How could anyone be so audacious to say something like that?

You tried to read your book, but your focus kept being pulled back to the stranger in the seat next to you. What does he mean that he “can work with that”? You turned the page and squinted, reading the same paragraph multiple times in a row because you could not get the words to make sense. Also, who asked him for his opinion on my appearance. “Not that bad?” Whatever. I know what I look like. And he’d be lucky to be with someone like me.

Reading was pointless, so you plugged in your earphones and turned on the video console, flipping through the channels looking for something mindless to watch. You tried watching a movie, but your mind continued to wander. Seriously, who is that guy? Was he flirting with me? Is that what’s going on here? He is kinda cute in a dirty obnoxious sort of way.

You could feel your cheeks start to flush at the thought that the stranger could really be attracted to you and then immediately admonished yourself. Stop it! I always do this. Just because a guy is overly confident and shows the slightest bit of interest, I don’t need to be flattered. But, against all your efforts to maintain your composure, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought that this guy, even with all his arrogance and poor fashion choices, might be a little bit into you.

A few hours into the flight, the meal service began. When the attendant brought you your dinner, the guy in the seat next to you lowered the window again and looked at your tray of food.

“What did you end up ordering?” he asked without any preamble.

“I got the fish.” You answered curtly, but politely.

“I got the beef,” he answered you even though you had not bothered to ask him what he was eating. “I was thinking about the fish but I’ve had enough bad experiences with low quality airplane seafood to make me think twice about ordering it again. Is it any good?”

“It’s fine.” You refused to look at him as you answered his questions, not wanting to encourage him further.

“Can I try a bite?”

You set your fork on your plate, irritated at his rudeness. Who asks people they don’t know for the food off their plate? You turned to tell him that his request for a bite would be denied, when you once again given an unexpected shock. “Oh my god! Will you please button up? I can see your nipples!”

“Oh? Hmmm. I didn’t even realize the buttons had come undone.” He reached down and buttoned just two buttons on his jacket, making himself look only slightly less indecent.

“How do you not notice that you are basically topless?”

“I don’t know. I was warm. It happens. Besides, what’s the big deal with a little nipple action. I wouldn’t be freaking out and asking you to cover up if your nipples popped out of your top.”

You sputtered. “I… what? No. I mean… no. I would not have any nipples popping out because I would be wearing a shirt. Like I am now. A shirt! A real honest to god top that covers me and is appropriate for an airplane. Why aren’t you wearing a shirt like a normal person for god’s sake?!”

“That seems like an awfully personal question to be asking someone you just met.” His brows furrowed and his lips pulled taut. “Are you always so forward?”

Your own eyes flew wide open and you could feel the heat rising up your neck -- unsure whether this was frustration or embarrassment. How was it possible for this man to suddenly act as though he was the respectable person in this conversation.

Suddenly, his stern expression gave way to laughter. He could barely contain his glee. “Look at your expression. Wow! You look totally flustered!”

You reached over to raise the window and block him out again, but he pushed the button down to thwart you.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Do you really want to know why I don’t have a shirt on? Because there’s a story to this, but I don’t know if you really want to hear it.”

You doubted that he had a good reason for his attire, but you were curious. “Go on.”

“So here’s the deal. I actually had tickets for a flight back to Seoul tomorrow. But last night, my schedule for today got canceled. I asked my manager to try to get me on an earlier flight. He wasn’t sure if it was going to work out because it looked like all the flights were booked. So I said, see what you can do and call me if you get something booked and I’ll be ready to go whenever.”

“So far this sounds like a very average story about trying to change your flight. Where does the no shirt thing get explained?” you asked.

“I’m getting to it. Since I wasn’t sure if the flight change was even going to happen, I went on about my evening…” he paused to think about how he wanted to phrase things. “Let’s just say, I went out socializing and I ended up falling asleep at my, um, new friends’ house. When I wake up this morning, I’ve got 10 messages from my manager. He had been trying to get me all night to tell me he got me on the noon flight to Seoul, but I had my ringer turned down really low and didn’t hear him. When I called him back, he said he had gotten all my stuff packed up and sent my clothes to the airport with my stylist…”

“You have a stylist and you still end up coming to the airport like this?”

“Just let me finish, alright? He said the stylist took my luggage with most of my clothes to the airport with her to start checking in and he had my carry on and passport and everything. I just needed to meet them at the airport. So I go to find the clothes I was wearing the night before, but one of the girls in bed with me was asleep wearing my shirt…”

“Wait! One of the girls in bed with you? How many girls were in this bed?” This guy was something else, you thought.

“Only two. I’m not crazy -- more than two is nearly impossible to manage. Anyways, I try to wake her up so I can get my shirt back, but she’s super groggy and still half asleep and she’s grabbing at my junk like she wants to suck my dick again, but I don’t have time for that. So, I just put on my jacket, leave, and hail a cab to the airport. When I got there, my stylist already checked in my luggage under her name, so all I had was this one backpack I always use as my carry on. My manager somehow remembered to throw in a fresh pair of underwear for me, but nothing else. And so here I am, wearing last night’s clothes, minus one shirt and adding a fresh pair of undies.”

You weren’t sure whether or not to believe him. “So… huh. Um. Well, that sure is a story.”

“You look like you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just that it’s so… I don’t even know. So you’re wearing the same clothes you supposedly had sex in last night?”

“I took the clothes off to have sex. So technically, no, I did not have sex in these clothes.” His face was relaxed as he relayed his story, no sign of embarrassment or shame.

“Most people would want to keep those details private, wouldn’t they.”

“I don’t know about most people, but I was just answering your question. Besides it’s true and there’s nothing to be ashamed about. We’re all grown-ups here.”

“Still, it feels so dirty.”

“Like I said, I’m wearing fresh underwear. Also, when the flight got delayed, that gave me time to run over to the lounge and use the showers in the spa. That’s why I have to keep my hat on -- didn’t have time to do my hair after the shower, I had to run back to the gate. The point being, you don’t have to worry about there being any sex-juices or other-girl-cooties on my body. I’m fresh and clean and ready to be put to use, if that’s something you’d like.”

“I… what?!” You were dumbfounded. This man you had just met was telling you sordid stories about his sex life and then asking if you would like “put him to use”. Your mind reeled. “Why would you even say that?”

“Because I think you’re kinda hot. And you think I’m kinda hot too. So, why not? Besides, I’m not expecting you to make a decision now. I’m just laying the groundwork so you’ll feel ready when I make a real proposition to you.”

Never in your life had anyone been so brazen with you. “How is this laying the groundwork for anything?” you asked incredulously.

“Because now you’re thinking about my dick,” he smirked.

“I am not!” you huffed.

“Anyhow - I’ll leave you to finish your meal in peace. We can talk more later.” And he pressed the button to raise the window, again separating himself from you, only the blue of his hat visible above the barrier.

You ate your meal in silence but couldn’t really enjoy the taste of anything because he was right, you were actually thinking about his dick.

Stop. Stop stop stop stop, you told yourself. But there was no stopping it. You picked up your book, but every few minutes, you’d pause to wonder who those women were that he had sex with last night. Did he know them well? Why did they want to have sex with him so badly that they were willing to share him? How does one man even manage to satisfy two women? Does he have some kind of magical sexual prowess? Is this story even true? He has to be making this up.

You ordered a glass of wine and listened to some music. One song in particular reminded you of your last boyfriend. The two of you had broken up over two months ago and you hadn’t had so much as a date since then. Lack of sexual compatibility was part of the reason you split -- but general boredom was the primary motivator.

You ex was the epitome of a nice guy. Easy going, unassuming, respectful. You didn’t go out much during the week since both of you had full time jobs and wanted to be well rested for work. Weekends were spent at farmers markets, scenic drives through the woods, going to the movies. It was pleasant. In bed, he was romantic and caring, always careful and cautious with your body, wanting to make sure you were okay. It was an absolutely stress free love affair. And that was part of the problem.

After a while, you started to crave tension. It showed up first in the bedroom when you asked him to pull your hair or talk dirty to you as a change of pace. He tried, you had to give him credit for that. But every time he uttered the word pussy or said he wanted to fuck you, the words came out whispered and hesitant. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that even if he learned how to say those words with confidence, you would still be wanting much more than he was able to give.

Over time, you started to realize your dissatisfaction had worked its way into all your interactions. He was always so agreeable. You shared the same views on social matters and politics. He never disagreed when you suggested a movie to watch or restaurant to go to. You began to wonder if he really was someone who shared all your points of view on everything, all the time -- or was he just so conflict avoidant that he had given up having a personality of his own.

I bet that guy has a filthy mouth on him. Even if he is an asshole, I’m sure he knows how to have a good time. You pondered the raised barrier and were curious as to why he had not tried talking to you again. It had been a couple of hours since your last interaction and he made it sound like you should be waiting for him to hit on you. Oh my god - am I actually looking forward to that cocky son-of-a-bitch talking to me again? No, I’m just attention starved. I need to start dating again -- but real men, not make believe celebrities with no shame.

The captain turned off the main lights in the cabin to give people an opportunity to sleep if they wanted. You closed your eyes and reclined your seat. Maybe it would be best to just try to sleep for a bit and put everything out of my mind. You would be more clear headed if I just got some rest.

It was a few hours later when you awoke. The cabin was quiet. A few people conversed in hushed tones, the faint glimmer of an occasional video screen. One of those glimmering screens was coming from your neighbor.

You stretched a bit and moved your seat to be a little more upright. Surprisingly, the window between your seats was down. Did he lower it to try to talk to me while I was asleep? You peered over at him and took comfort that he was fast asleep, clearly having dozed off while trying to watch a movie.

His slumber gave you an opportunity to really look at him more closely. He looked serene and gentle when he wasn’t awake. His facial features were really quite delicate, a high narrow nose bridge, moderately plump and perfectly pink lips, high cheekbones, his face was gently tanned by the sun. You would describe him as almost pretty. His clavicles were pronounced, his chest a bit paler than his face -- he must have been wearing his shirt when he went out in the California sun -- his abdomen was taut and firm, he clearly worked out.

You let your eyes travel further, until noticed something striking going on with his shorts. At first you wondered if it was just an odd shadow being cast from the lights from the video screen, but the more you looked, the more certain you were that you were looking at an erection. Not fully erect, you presumed, but there was enough that the draping of the fabric could not conceal everything he had going on between his legs. This was the distinct form of a penis and you couldn’t stop staring at it.

“See something you like down there?”

His voice caught you by such surprise you literally jumped in your seat and hit your elbow against the side wall, knocking over your headphones, sending them clattering to the floor. “Ouch! No. What? I… what? No. I was just… I woke up and I saw the window thingy was down and was just checking to see if you wanted to talk to me or something… or you know.”

He laughed aloud, stretched his arms over his head and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Were you planning on asking my dick whether or not I wanted to talk to you? Because I doubt it’s going to tell you much.”

“What?! I.. no! What are you talking about?” You tried to act indignant to hide your humiliation at being caught staring at his genitals. When trapped, deny everything, you thought.

“Are you married? Have a boyfriend?” He rolled to his side, still reclined in his seat.

“No. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“I know I come on strong. But life is short and I just think if you want something, you should say so. And I want you.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat at his directness, but you tried to hold your expression steady. There was no point in getting involved with a guy like this. “You don’t even know me.”

“Ah, let me be more clear. I want to have sex with you. Right now.” He carefully watched your face to judge your reaction. “Was that too forward? I could try the romantic approach if you want, but I always feel like it’s a little dishonest. I never want to mislead anyone.”

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest and you felt a little light headed. You had a couple one night stands back in your wilder college days, but those days were long gone. Besides, no one had ever approached you quite like this. “I appreciate your candor, but I’m just not that kind of girl.”

“What kind of girl do you think is the kind to say yes?” He started to sit upright, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I don’t know exactly. You had two women in bed with you last night -- so those kinds of women, I guess.”

“Do you think you are better than them because they gave in to their carnal desires and just let themselves enjoy the moment? No one was hurt. There was no damage done.”

“How do you know there was no damage done? You just left them there.”

He shook his head, dismissing your statement. “They were groupies, star fuckers. I was just a name on their bucket list. Last night they had sex with me and tomorrow night they’ll be chasing down Shawn Mendes or some other dude. I gave them what they wanted and they gave me a hell of a good time. Is that so bad?”

This seemed so unbelievable to you. “Are you really famous? Or have you just been messing with me?”

“Is me being a celebrity the thing that will make the difference in whether you say yes or no to having sex with me?”

You started to squirm under his gaze. Until now, he had been cocky and arrogant, but it all seemed like a game. Now, it was starting to get a little more serious and you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. “I don’t actually care if you’re famous or not. I’m just not generally the kind of person who does whatever she wants -- there are rules against these kinds of things, you know?”

“So you admit that you want it too.” He looked a bit too pleased with himself.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Are you sure? It sounds to me like you are trying to talk yourself out of something you actually want. What’s the point of that?

You immediately thought of your ex-boyfriend again. Simple, proper, agreeable and dull. You had left him for want of more excitement and now here was a man you just met, who was offering you nothing but excitement. But still, you hesitated, remaining silent but not explicitly saying no.

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a condom, making sure you saw it before he slipped it into his pocket. “Safety first,” he said. “Also, no strings. No commitments. One time - no shame, no guilt. No consequences.”

“I don’t know…” was all you could eke out.

“It’s time for you to figure out what you want. So here’s the deal,” he sat up and turned to face you fully. “I’m getting up and heading into that restroom over there,” he motioned toward the front of the plane, pointing to the left. “I’ll leave the door unlocked while I wait for you. If you decide to join me, just pop in. From there on, it’s ladies choice. I can make it as sweet or as nasty as you want it to be.”

“What happens when I don’t show up?”

“IF you don’t show up, then you don’t show up. I’m a big boy -- I’ll find other ways to occupy myself.” With that, he stood up and swaggered away.

This is insane. Who does this guy think he is? How full of himself is he that he can saunter off expecting me to follow him? You glanced at the time on your phone. I wonder how long he plans on waiting?

You remembered reading an article about people who have sex on airplanes; it said that almost 20 percent were complete strangers who met on the plane. At the time you couldn’t imagine how something like that was even possible. I guess I know now.

You wanted to giggle to find yourself in this predicament. You wanted to be outraged at how presumptuous he had been, but instead you found yourself feeling a bit flattered. It’s just because I haven’t had much male attention in the past two months. I’m just feeling a bit deprived - that’s all it is. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even entertain the thought of doing something like this. But you were entertaining it and it made you nervous.

You looked around the cabin, most of the other passengers were fast asleep. The few who were awake mostly seemed to be watching movies with headphones on. The flight attendants were chatting quietly on the right hand side of the galley, leaving the restrooms on the left side, mostly ignored.

What would my friends say? Inha would think it’s gross. Hyeweon would think it’s hilarious. Dahyun would applaud you for taking risks and trying something new. Chaewon would be jealous.

Six minutes. That’s how much time had passed. How long will he wait? 10 minutes? 15? Certainly not more than that.

You had met girls who were wild and slept around. When you were younger you used to think that they would end up regretting their poor choices. Yet, you had never once met anyone who told you they wished they had less sex or that they had fewer adventures in their past. Why are you overthinking this! Be bad for once in your life. Who have you ever talked to that regretted going wild? Nobody - that’s who! Regret is what you feel when you don’t do something, right? But still… sex with a stranger?

You don’t even fully remember standing up and walking down the aisle. All you knew was that your hand was on the door to the restroom and there was no turning back now.

There was no greeting. No welcome. Just his lips crashing into yours, fervently prying your mouth open with his tongue. Your body stiffened in surprise but you did not try to pull away. His skin was smoother than you expected, his scent was sweet and fresh like the air after a summer rain, his lips seemed far too soft for the violence and urgency of the kiss itself.

In a far corner of your mind, you could hear your conscience telling you to stop, to run away and return to your seat, to retreat to the relative safety and comfort of your normal self. But as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your tighter against his body, that voice became more and more distant, until finally it disappeared altogether. You finally relaxed, sinking into him and wrapping your tongue around his.

Just let everything go and do as you please for once, you told yourself. Just this once, with no fear and no regrets.

His kisses moved to your neck as he began to maul you with his hands, squeezing your buttocks, reaching up to molest your breasts, grasping at them through your shirt. His motions were rough and passionate. His teeth scraped against your skin while he tugged at your shirt hem, trying to remove it. You obliged his silent request by pulling away from his grasp, slipping your shirt over your head and tossing it on the counter.

He did not lean back in to continue kissing you. Instead, he leaned back as much as he could in the confines of the tiny restroom to assess your body, lingering on your chest. His hand reached out to trace the edges of your bra before he finally spoke to you. “How do you want it?”

“Excuse me? I don’t under…”

“How do you want things to go?” He looked up at you, holding your gaze. “I told you this will be ladies choice. Tell me what you want me to do?”

You could feel yourself starting to blush. You had been comfortable letting him take control, but now that he was putting you on the spot to ask for what you wanted, you found yourself growing shy. You broke eye contact with him and looked down at your feet, crossing your arms as you tried to think of what to say.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased. “You’re more delicate than I presumed. So do you prefer gentle and sweet? I can whisper sweet nothings in your ear.”

“No. Not like that.” You shook your head to emphasize that romance was not your objective. You had enough of romance and sweetness.

“Well then... You want it dirty and you’re just too shy to ask for it?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I mean, some dirty talk might be nice.”

“Some? Exactly how much is some? I can get pretty filthy if you want me to.”

Awkwardly, you put your arms back by your side and glanced up at him, trying to feign confidence. “How filthy?”

His eyes flashed with desire as he leaned closer to you, running his hands down your arms. “Let’s try this. Take off your bra and let me see you.”

You reached behind yourself to unclasp your bra, a slight tremor in your hands. You were extremely conscious of how bright the lights were and it made you a little nervous to be so exposed and so visible. “What about you?” you asked as you let your bra slip off your shoulders and you placed it on top of your shirt.

“Me?” He unbuttoned his jacket and tossed it aside. “Done. Now we’re both topless.”

He leered at your chest now, cupping your breasts in his hand as if weighing them. “Very nice. You have beautiful breasts.” He watched your face closely for a response.

“Thanks, I guess.” You weren’t sure what he was expecting from you.

“That’s not it, huh? How about this?” He ran his thumbs over your nipples, brushing against them until they grew and hardened. “I love a girl with a nice pair of tits. Yours are amazing. I can’t wait to suck on those nipples.”

His directness was appealing. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

Leaning down, he caught your left nipple between his lips and sucked at it, his tongue running circles over it. The sensation was pleasant and you reached over to pull his hat off his head after suddenly being overwhelmed by the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

“I told you I’m having a bad hair day, so just know that.” He wagged a finger at you before pulling off his own hat and tossling his dark brown locks that had been matted down by hours confined under a hat.

He bent back down back down to suckle at your nipples, his lips latched tightly to the protruding bud. The suction sent little shock waves down between your legs as if your breasts were attached to your sex.

Soon, he detached himself and stood back up, whispering in your ear. “Your tits are tasty, but I bet your pussy is even better.” His hand slid between your legs, kneading your cloth covered crotch. Pulling back a little to better see your face, he asked you, “I want to touch your pussy.” He watched your reaction carefully. “Or would you rather I finger fuck your cunt?”

Your previous boyfriend would have sooner died than ever uttered the dreaded “c” word. But hearing a man you just met talk about your cunt thrilled you, and you could feel the moisture gathering between your legs. “Finger my cunt, please,” you whispered back at him.

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you do want it dirty don’t you?”

All you could do was nod in affirmation before he shoved his hand under the waistband of your pants and beneath your panties, tracing your slit before penetrating you with his fingers. He slid in and out of your vagina, the palm of his hand cupping your vulva. His lips returned to your neck, biting at you. The heat of his breath matched the growing warmth of your sex. “Oh, fuck! That feels good,” you encouraged him to keep going.

“You like that? You like having my fingers up your cunt hole? You like getting finger banged by some dude in a public toilet? Tell me again about what kind of girl you are. Little miss prim and proper, my ass.”

Biting your lip, you tried to hold back, but you couldn’t help it. You mewled like a cat to hear the filth coming from his mouth. Your stomach fluttered at the crude way he described your reality. You were now the kind of girl who lets a guy finger her in an airplane toilet. This was not who you thought you were when you woke up this morning.

Enthused by the sounds emanating from you, he started to finger you more vigorously. Slipping in a second digit and thrusting so hard, it shook your body. His other hand slid up your back, over your neck until his fingers were entwined with your hair. He ensnared a fistful of hair right at your scalp and pulled your head back, further exposing your neck to him. He licked a line from your clavicle to your chin and then planted a long lingering kiss on your lips.

Your mewls turned into a full on moan. Never had you been this turned on in your life. “Oh my god,” was the most coherent thing you could say.

“I love those little noises you are making, but if this is how you get from a finger fuck, I can’t wait to see how you react when I’ve got my face buried in your snatch. Now, let’s get these pants off of you.”

He tugged at your waistband, lowering your pants and panties together, getting them to mid thigh when you took over - wiggling to get them to fall to the floor before kicking them off completely. “Shouldn’t you be getting undressed too?” you asked.

“There’s some time before that’s necessary. Let’s take care of you first.” He tried to kneel down, but the tiny confines of the bathroom made it difficult. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up off the floor and set you on to the narrow counter.

You sat precariously, one butt cheek halfway over the sink, and you could feel the cold hard metal of the faucet pressing uncomfortably into your backside. Before you could adjust yourself, you felt hands pressing your thighs upwards, bending your knees into your chest and without warning, something soft and wet snaking through the folds of skin between your legs. You clung tightly to the edge of the counter to keep from slipping off.

Looking to your side, you could see your reflection in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door, your naked body illuminated by the harsh light overhead. The rather unflattering lighting and pose was offset by the amazingly lurid sight of a man kneeling on the floor, his head pressed between your thighs.

He lapped at your clit, dragging his tongue across your pussy - wet and sloppy. You looked down at him, his face glistening with your juices just as he came up for air. “That’s one juicy and delicious cunt you got there. You get this wet for all the boys, or is it special for me?” he asked before diving back in, opening his mouth wide as if trying to devour you whole.

It felt amazing. The heat inside your grew with every stroke of his tongue against your raw flesh. He let go of one thigh and brought it to you damp slit, further spreading your lips apart. His nose pressed against your clit while he inserted his tongue where his fingers had been earlier. Sucking and slurping away at you.

“Mmmmmmmm…” You desperately tried to keep quiet. Biting down hard on your lower lip to prevent yourself from being overheard by the people outside, but still the occasional hushed moan or hum would escape your lips. The noises spurred him on to keep going, rubbing his face into you, covering himself with the glistening evidence of your arousal.

He let go of your other thigh to insert his fingers back into you while his lips affixed themselves directly to your clit. His fingers curving upward as he pumped them in and out of you, hitting your g spot with every stroke, while his tongue laved your clit. “Please don’t stop,” you pleaded as you grabbed on to his hair and pulled his face tighter into you. “Please.”

You extended your legs, realizing that the bathroom was so small that you could sit on the counter and plant your feet on the opposite wall, helping stabilize you enough that you could close your eyes and just let yourself feel the pleasure of this man ministering to your sex.

As your orgasm approached, you could feel you leg start to shake and your breath quicken. He sucked lightly at your clit before pulling back the hood and drawing his tongue gently across the surface. You gasped aloud at the intensity, which he took notice of. “You like that? You like being spread open wide and licked like a bitch in heat? Tell me.”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“What do you like? Say it. You aren’t the only one who wants to hear some dirty talk. Tell me what exactly you like.”

“I like it when you lick my cunt. I like the way your tongue feels against my clit. God, I’m going to cum if you keep doing it like this.”

Smiling, he returned to his duties; his mouth placed firmly against you and slurping at you like eating a ripe piece of fruit. He removed his fingers from inside you and instead used them to spread you pussy lips even wider open. The loss of sensation from within you was disappointing. You were so close to cumming right on his face, but the urgent desire to have something inside you was growing stronger.

“I need you inside me,” you implored.

He didn’t hesitate. Standing up from his position on the floor, he massaged the growing bulge in his shorts for a moment while staring directly into your eyes. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Your eyes wandered down to where his hand was playing with himself. “I want you to fuck me. I want it so bad, you don’t even know.” Any reservations or shyness you once had was driven out by the overwhelming lust.

“Oh, I know.” His conceit was amazing, but you were too horny to care.

“So what are you waiting for?”

He pulled his shorts and underwear down in one fluid motion, leaving him completely naked in front of you. His body was lean and taut, the image of youthful sexuality. His dick stood proudly erect in front of him, firm and smooth. Between his two fingers, he held up the condom that he had stealthily removed from his pocket. “You, put it on me,” he demanded.

Sliding off the counter, you welcomed being able to stand upright for a moment, with nothing poking you in the back and no fear of accidentally slipping off. But once again the space was so cramped, that you could not both stand on the floor and not have your bodies collide. His distended dick brushed against your pussy as you grabbed the condom from his hand.

He leaned in and kissed you again, deeply and passionately. “Can you taste yourself? You were fucking delicious, I could have stayed down there for hours. You should know what you taste like.” With that comment, he slipped his finger back between your folds, dipping into your juices and pulling out a slick and glazed finger. He held it to your lips. “Suck my finger and taste for yourself.”

You balked at first, never having even thought of what you might taste like. But he pressed forward and you grew curious, opening your mouth until he laid his finger on your tongue. You licked his finger clean, intrigued to see if you were as delicious as he had claimed. The salty sweet mixture was better than you imagined. “Good girl,” he told you.

Fumbling with the condom wrapper, you finally got it open and reached down to grab hold of his manhood. You held him in your palm and enclosed your fingers around him, meaning to hold him steady while you slipped the condom over the head of his dick, but you couldn’t resist stroking him with your hand for a moment. He sighed contentedly at the sensation and leaned back against the wall, allowing you more room to see what you were doing.

His penis was beautifully formed, you thought. Big enough but not too big. Firm and hefty, the girth felt just right in your hand. Without thinking, you pressed the head of his cock against your slit and stroked it against your clit. His eyes flew open wide and he looked down at what you were doing.

“Were you planning to fuck me raw?” he asked.

“No, I just wanted to know what it felt like.” You quickly slipped the condom over the tip and rolled it down his shaft. Although, you had to admit that the idea of having condomless sex seemed appealing -- but you had not yet lost all your sense of self preservation. “Now you have a little bit of my pussy juice under the condom with you.”

“You act so normal, but you’re a freak in the sheets, aren’t you?” He grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around so he was pressed into your back while you could see his face reflected back at you in the mirror over the sink. “Now, spread your legs and hold still while I shove my cock up your hot little fuck-hole.”

You keened at the vulgarity, spreading your legs wide and leaning forward enough to arch your back slightly, giving him better access. He leaned over you, squatting down slightly to slip his penis into you, pressing his chest against your back and then thrusting upward, pushing forward and burying himself to his hilt inside your pussy.

“Good god, you are so warm inside.” He slowly pulled himself out before thrusting up into you again and again… and again. Slow and steady, he fucked you for several minutes, but you wanted more and started pushing back against him, egging him on to fuck you faster.

“Nice, “ was all he said before slapping your ass and speeding up his thrusts.

“Yeah,” you panted. “Very nice.”

He folded his body over you, planting one hand on the counter to hold him steady and sliding the other hand around you to stroke your clit while he fucked you. You could feel an ache starting to build up inside you and wanted more. You raised one leg and placed it on top of the closed toilet seat lid, spreading yourself open wider and giving him greater access to you.

As his fingers drummed against your clit, his thrusts accelerated. His body engulfed you and his mouth was pressed against your ear where he whispered to you. “Such a good girl, huh? Is this what you do? Fuck total strangers in bathrooms? You act all proper, but you really just want to get a good pounding in your cunt by some random dude. You don’t even know my name, do you?”

For the first time, it dawned on you that you had never bothered to ask his name. Nor had he asked for yours. The realization both appalled and thrilled you. This was by far the most depraved thing you had ever done. “What is your name?” you asked while he continued to plunge his cock deep into you.

“What does it matter now? You are fucking a total and absolute stranger. I’m going to make sure you cum on the cock of a guy whose name you don’t know. Just think about that, my dick is rammed up your cunt and you like it. What does that make you?”

You tried to fight the moan building in your throat. His words should offend you but instead they brought you closer to the edge. “A slut,” you answered him. “Fucking a total stranger makes me a slut.”

“That’s okay,” he consoled you. “I’m a dirty slut too.”

He grabbed your breast and buried his face in the crook of your neck, sucking on the skin. His fingers continued their assault on your clit while he pounded away at you pussy. Finally, you came undone, gasping, open mouthed in a silent scream as your orgasm hit with full force. Your body shook and all you could do was whimper quietly until finally the feeling subsided.

“Oh my god. That was amazing,” you turned around to face him.

“I’ll say.” He looked desperate and his eyes blown wide. “I could feel you pulsing around my cock. I was so close to cumming myself. I just need a little more to take me over the edge.”

“What exactly do you want?”

He moved you to the other side of the room so he could now sit on top of the closed toilet seat. Slipping off the condom, he told you exactly what he wanted. “Suck me off. I want to cum down your throat.”

You looked at his dick, standing ramrod straight, leaking precum from the tip. It looked ready to bust and you felt a strange pride that you had managed to get him this turned on. Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees and took him in your mouth.

His brow furrowed as he watched you bobbing your head up and down, snaking your tongue along his shaft. One hand held your hair back while the other balled up in a fist and rested on the counter. He was holding back, you could tell.

Redoubling your efforts, you locked your lips around him and focused on the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over the sensitive tip, before inching down further until you had swallowed as much of his flesh as you could stand.

“Fuck yeah. You are really good at this. You must have sucked a lot of dick.” For a guy who claimed to have had sex with two women the night before, you took this as a significant compliment. “I’m not going to last long if you keep this up.”

You came back up for air and smiled. Gripping his saliva covered cock, you stroked his shaft while planting delicate kisses at the tip. “I want to see you cum. I want to taste you. If I’m going to be a slut, I want it all.” You then plunged your head back down, sucking him like your life depended on it. You wanted him to remember you the next time he got his dick sucked by some random girl. Your pride depended on it.

It was only a couple minutes when he started to completely lose himself. You watched as he pursed his lips and threw his head back. His grip on your hair tightened and his eyes glazed over while you could see his abdomen contract and then you tasted it. The slightly salty, slightly bitter taste of his cum landed on your tongue. You pushed your head down further so he could truly cum down your throat and making it easier to swallow. It was only a few spurts, but they seemed to come out with great force, nearly making you choke.

When he was done, his body relaxed and he slumped forward. “My god, I’m going to need a nap after that. You sucked the life right out of me.” He leaned down, placing his hand under your chin and tipping your face upwards, planted a soft and rather sweet kiss on your lips. “Thank you. This was wonderful,” he said.

“The feeling is mutual.”

After giving yourselves a minute to bask in the afterglow, you both started the clumsy task of getting redressed in the tight confines of the bathroom. You bumped into each other, knocking into the walls and accidentally turning on the sink, until finally you were both dressed and ready to step outside.

As soon as you opened the door, a flight attendant stood in the passageway and greeted you with a knowing look. “If you both want to retake your seats, we’ll begin breakfast service soon and should be landing in another hour and a half.”

Mortified, you returned to your seat and tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone else on the plane. Had they all heard you? Did everyone know? Your partner in crime seemed unphased and immediately fell asleep as soon as he sat down.

The rest of the flight seemed to go without incident. You refused breakfast in order to avoid talking to the attendant and hid yourself behind your book. You tried to read, but the truth was you couldn’t help replaying the events from just an hour before while you grinned like a giddy schoolgirl, amazed that you had been caught doing something extremely naughty but somehow escaped punishment. You doubted that you would be able to think about anything else for days to come.

Once the plane landed, your neighbor finally awoke and stretched out. He looked across at you and smiled warmly. “Hey, I just want to say that I enjoyed our flight and will remember this fondly. I hope you will too.”

You tried to look look cool and unfussed, although you were secretly happy that he wasn’t completely ignoring you and running off without saying anything like he did to those girls from the night before. “I have no regrets. It was a good time.” You stood up to gather your things and wait to get off the plan, but noticed he was making no moves. “Are you just going to hang out on the plane?”

“I have to get off last. It’s too much chaos with the fans in the terminal, so I’ll get off later with my team. It gives the other passengers time to get by before the mob of fans and paparazzi obstruct everything.”

“Ah, right,” you said, disbelieving. You wondered if this was just a ploy to separate from you and cover up for the fact that he had been playing at being a celebrity this whole time. “Out of curiosity, what is your name?”

He thought for a moment before answering. “You can just call me Jay.”

“Is that your real name?”

“Nope,” he responded honestly. “Let’s just say that it’s something of a nickname that I’ve been given. It seems the most appropriate way for you to remember me.”

You shrugged your shoulders and decided to not break the illusion. “Well, Jay, thanks for everything.” You gave him a small wave good-bye before stepping into the aisle with the rest of the exiting passengers and left him behind forever.

--------------------

Mini-Epilogue:

You walked down the wide concourse, pulling your luggage behind you. You were largely unaware of your surroundings since you attention was on your phone, trying to text your friends that you had landed and make plans for seeing them later in the evening. You had already been practicing in your head how you would tell them about your adventurous flight and the mystery man who made it so memorable.

Behind you, you could suddenly hear a loud commotion. Girls cheering and yelling, the rushing of feet. You turned to see what was going on and could see the flashing of cameras as a crush of people moved towards the exits. You strained to see who was at the center of all the excitement.

“Do you know what’s going on?” you asked an older man standing next to you who was also watching the crowd pass by.

“It’s one of those idol boys. The girls go nuts for them. I saw one of the girls carrying a sign saying ‘Welcome back J-Hope’. What kind of name is J-Hope anyway? It sounds weird if you ask me.”

“I’ve never heard of him. He must not be too famous.”

“Exactly. These girls should all be in school and not following around some no name nobody.” The man threw his hands up in disgust before walking off.

You turned to go your own way, but a thought nagged at you. You tapped the name J-Hope into your phone and smiled at the results. The story you would tell your friends just got a bit more interesting.

#BTS smut #Hoseok smut #J-Hope smut #BTS fic #Hoseok fic

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idolizerp · 5 years

Photo

LOADING INFORMATION ON NIGHTMARE’S VOCAL, DANCE ZHAO DAXIA...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Xia CURRENT AGE: 19 DEBUT AGE:17 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 16 COMPANY: Koala.T SECONDARY SKILL: N/A

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): nightmare’s babydoll, xixi INSPIRATION: daxia was largely inspired to be an idol by her favorite groups, who she’d began to love after seeing online videos. after winning a small talent contest at her school, she said that it showed her what fame and being loved by fans felt like and that she’d give anything to feel that for the rest of her life. from there on, she began grinding to work towards becoming the sweet and talented idol she is today. SPECIAL TALENTS:

martial arts - she started learning at the six and continued classes off-and-on until receiving her black belt at the age of thirteen.

choreography - after being a dedicated for so long, she’s practiced many years so master several of her favorite group’s choreographies from the last three generations, going as far as to try to mimic their mannerisms.

impressions - often teasing, but she has a special skill for impersonating both her members and other idols she’s fond of.

NOTABLE FACTS:

she was first found after starring on the show “superstar k”, where she placed 4th.

she once went on a trip to new york city and took a picture with rihanna.

daxia’s a huge fan of western music from the 90’s, and once a week she posts song recommendations for fans to follow and add to their playlist, along with an extended explanation and preferred method of listening.

she is known for her significant weight loss during her time as a trainee to debut, losing around 22 kg in a month. she refuses to say how, for fear others will try it as well.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

daxia does not hope that nightmare will change their concept, but instead that it will be better received by the public as they keep promoting, she also hopes that as they get more experienced, she will be more natural at fitting in with the dark concept. she wants to also better connect with international fans more, and hopes to be able to travel to china on tour and connect with fans in her native tongue.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

despite the cultural difference, daxia hopes to become a beloved figure of the korean entertainment. while highly ambitious, she hopes that she’ll have a lengthy and successful career and eventually be able to venture into other types such as acting and more variety. she wants to be a long term public figure known for her personality, and eventually be able to earn enough to move her parents to korea.

IDOL IMAGE

[did you see that new girl they added, daxia? she doesn’t look like the nightmare type at all.]

cute face, devilish grin. daxia’s introduction to nightmare was certainly a shocking one, such childlike features accompanying such an eerie concept. and yet, in a way, it works. the deceitfulness in her smiles is just the soft energy they need. sure, nightmare doesn’t ever catch a break because of their concept, but in a way it’s xia who helps bring the cuteness back that they’re missing.

[i heard she’s the least talented out of the bunch, though. is she just a pretty face?]

upon her debut, she receives almost instant criticism. she’s lacking skills. she shouldn’t have debuted so soon. she barely can speak korean. all in all, everyone seems to view her as a trainee who still needs lots of work. what could she do? it’s not like she doesn’t agree, but daxia had been dying to make it big and nightmare seemed like her only chance. she tries her hardest to work hard, but they don’t seem to get past her swift debut and lackluster skills. the only thing that’s saving her is her charisma, even the anti-fans can’t deny she has an incredible stage presence and personality onscreen.

[yeah, i think so. but she’s a little cute….right?]

so koala.t uses a new method, using her downfalls as their strength. within a month of debut, they stray her away from the dark character it seemed everyone else was playing. instead, they have her play dumb. since they can’t seem to do much with her, they work with her flaws and make them “cute” to the audience. her korean, which is lacking but nevertheless improving, is told to be intentionally worse to play the clueless foreigner card. her voice cracks are made to be a cute mishap, and her lack of coordination can be attributed to her adorable clumsiness. koala.t feels that all her critiques have been swiftly cleaned up, but xia can’t say she feels the same. unable to be completely herself, to be made to be some quirky, relatable little kid for the public’s sake.

[i guess so. she’s sweet, at least. i think she likes what she does.]

but it’s not all bad, in xia’s book. being among the youngest of the bunch means she’s frequently doted on, and gets the privilege of teasing her members without seeming to mean. she’s known as “nightmare’s babydoll”, the sort of sunlight in such a dark concept. her fanservice and frequent streams make her a favorite among those who prefer personality to skill, something she can’t decide on whether she likes or not. whatever her beliefs, her marketing as the cute side, the “dawn”, of a hellish nightmare, has been one that’s put xia out of the darkness.

IDOL HISTORY

begin. from the very first few seconds she left the womb, daxia knew she was special. born a daughter, the only child to parents who for so long had tried to conceive a child. while she wasn’t hardly wealthy enough to be deemed spoiled, daxia always felt confident that there was a place for her in the world. her first steps, first words, first meal, all of it was caught on camera alongside the cheers of proud parents. they cherished her. cherished her so much that they never let her out of their sight. how could they, anyways, when all the bad in the world was so willing to swallow up girls like her? daxia was known to be terribly susceptible to colds, had an extensive list of allergies, and all the likes. even her asthma, which she felt was a minor setback, would result in panic anytime it decided to cause her some trouble. she was a small, cute thing, their bao, or treasure.

both in their mid 30s, they raised her in a disciplined yet loving household. to satisfy their fears, the girl was homeschooled all throughout her schooling years, drilled with lessons in math, english, and more. her friends all lay within her stuffed animals, and when she got older shifted to living souls behind her computer screen. with the bulk of social interaction coming from her parents and penpals, xia soon got bored and resorted to a different form of entertainment. something fresh. something….exciting. kpop. her parents, being extremely traditional, accepted nothing but the chinese ballads they filled the house with. so, in secret, she plugged her headphones in and began to fall a little deeper for the celebrities who seemed so far away. her hobby soon became addiction, and within a few months she could tell anyone who listened an alphabetical list of over a hundred boy and girl groups. you see, it took her away. away from her parents, from wuxi, from china. for once, she felt like she wasn’t trapped within her house but instead apart of something much more. korea, in general, soon gained her interest, and she slowly shifted from interest solely in idols to learning the language and culture. by the time she turned 17, she’d begun learning simple phrases and had her eyes set on the country.

if she was being completely and utterly honest with herself, daxia knew she had no place at home. she had no work skills, no real talents, only a passion and a kind soul. it was only when she stumbled upon an advertisement for a talent competition based in korea that she began taking the idea of a future seriously. a future with her passion, in which she may even be able to share the stage with her idols. daxia, being the ambitious teenager she was, worked her hardest to land a spot. staying up late at dance studios, visiting vocal coaches. her savings account, which had largely been holding funds from her job, was emptied to get her plane ticket there.

those dreams soon came crashing down, when her reign of superstar k quickly ended as she left the show with 4th place. the people had loved her bright spirit and small-town girl feel, but it hadn’t been enough to win a talent-based competition. with low spirits and even lower funds, she’d just begun her travels back home when the company she knew well, koala.t, contacted her in hopes of bringing her into the agency. it was clear she had a lot to improve, but her bright spirit and work ethic gave them a sort of momentum.. sooner than she ever thought possible with the talents she had, she was put into nightmare’s lineup. how was it possible? even daxia knew, with the optimistic lenses she saw the world with, that there was less celebrating than she’d hoped. other trainees had worked far longer, far harder, and had the talent to back it up. what was daxia doing, standing next to such talented girls? the thought haunted her, and the constant criticisms of her surprise debut didn’t make it any easier.

just like that, all daxia’s ideas of what reality was were all ripped from her eyes. she was thrown into the trainee scene faster than she could imagine, as her family watched on with shock. in a country she could barely understand, working to be just like the people she’d always felt were in another universe. the transition was anything but easy, filled with tear-filled nights of frustration and the same, sad homesick feeling whenever she thought of her family back home. she was 16, her parent’s bao, who had always been raised a baby. now, here she was, with the culture shock of her life and struck with the reality of independence and the entertainment industry.

nightmare’s concept hit her like a pound of bricks, as she had to learn concepts such as alluring and sexy. never had she been associated with these words before, but she tried her best to catch up with the rest of her members. the cute, soft daxia was certainly still there. but with such high stakes, she was willing to do whatever it took. she was already let go once, and she’d be damned if she let her only opportunity to be a somebody go through her hands like that again. her hard work seemed to be working against her, though, for every time

everyone swears her charm is in her uniqueness, but daxia wishes everything in her it isn’t true. because it’s all her differences that make her faults, and no matter how out there nightmare might be in concept she hopes they don’t say the same about her, the individual. so she smiles like everyone, tries to speak like everyone, and doesn’t dare complain.

because she’s different, she knows, but will do anything to hide from the spotlight and blend into the background.

#id.bio #id.koalat #id.nightmare #id.song yuqi #id.honeypot

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