#but right now. well. we never actually defined anything now did we? not dating means surely its ok for me to flirt with other men
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Oh yeah, so I made my wizard Nico in bg3. And I was unsure of who to romance. But. Well. Astarion sure did put out first, huh
Aka Nico has slept with Astarion. And. Well. With every sweet word he calls him, I find myself wanting more and more to just stick with him
#speculation nation#id already been flirting with Gale and a little with Wyll AND i heard u can do poly with Halsin#im kind of wondering whether itd be a dick move to try to get as much dick as possible b4 i have to commit to someone#well. it sure would be some kinda dick move huh 🤔🤔🤔#anyways im just rping as Nico. who Historically has had really bad self control when it comes to resisting men's advances#hes just rly gay ok and if a man he finds attractive invites him to fuck. well. who is he to say no?#ASSUMING HE'S SINGLE ok if hes in a relationship he's committed. and he will be.#but right now. well. we never actually defined anything now did we? not dating means surely its ok for me to flirt with other men#at least for a little bit longer 🥺🥺🥺#this may come to bite me in the ass 😂 we'll see
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what are we?
wanderer x gn!reader, could be a modern au, angst & fluff, he's scared of trusting his 'heart'.
an: i had a dream he asked this (he asked more but I couldn't remember) and it was like a twitter back and fourth😭
ac: @/syea-say on tmblr | @/syea_say on twt & ig
"What kind of relationship do we have?"
The question came abruptly, bringing the silence to an end. You noticed beforehand that it seemed like something was on his mind, he appeared to be elsewhere in his mind, pondering deeply. Is this what that was about?
He doesn't wait for you to answer, not yet, he continues,
"Love always ends in disappointment." He turns to face you properly, a stoic look in his eyes, his lips pressed into a line. "You're a mortal too, so what's the point of pursing something like this when it'll come to an end anyways?"
He was right to say that. I mean, you are a mortal, you have an expiration date, so does everyone, but to you and the majority of others it's normal, because it's something you learn to live with an accept.
"Everything ends at some point, you know there's not much to be done about that. We can only make good of what we have now."
"That's such a boring answer." He scrutinises you, his brows furrowing. "You know that's not what I want to hear."
You stare back at him, quiet as you think of what to say. You could easily just tell him that you won't leave him, that you'll never allow that to happen. But you can't make such a huge promise, if you break it, it would feel like a lie. You don't want to lie to him, but you don't want to disappoint him.
"There is no real point." You turn your head to look elsewhere, opting to view the scenery than see his face scrunch up. You didn't want whatever reaction he had to offer you, not when you weren't sure if the reception would be good.
"Do you think I do things because they'll last?" You crouch down to the plants nearby, touching their tips with your finger. "Nothing lasts. Everything ends." Life was no different than a leaf, but what defined it was not the tree that beared it nor it's kind but rather how far it travelled, how big it's world was. "But if I just did nothing my entire life and waited for that end to come it would've been no different from the beginning."
"What the hell are you trying to say?" The wanderer crosses his arms. He doesn't want anything complicated right now, each answer that isn't what he wants to hear sounds more like the opposite; Like you don't want to be here, with him.
Turning your head up at him, he was starting to bother you with his unspoken persistence for you to just say what he wanted you to and you began speaking directly, "I'm saying that the only reason life is considered to have an end is based on if you actually do something during it." You stayed quiet for a bit before letting out a heavy breath after some contemplation. "I don't want to do nothing." It didn't matter how many years passed, how old you are or how weak you are. If you still have time then you might as well live in it.
"Kuni, you might have existed a long time but have you properly lived? You act so humane and yet you deny any internal ties to humanity. Isn't it more like you're using my mortality as an excuse to forbid yourself from acknowledging your own denials?"
That, that was most definitely the last thing he wanted to hear. You having said you can't be here with him would have been bad, but somehow this was worse because he had his reality forced infront of him. It was humiliating in a way, to be exposed when you were always bare. You can see his face growing frustrated, he seemed as though he was trying to bite his tongue but you might've struck a nerve. "An excuse?" A degrading laugh erupted from his throat, "Are you serious? Why would I need an excuse? I don't need to be human in the first place, this has nothing to do with that. You're the one making up things and avoiding giving me an answer."
You were on the brink of leading to an argument and even you couldnt keep your head cool. You stand up in defense as you shoot back. "I'm not avoiding anything. I'll stay with you for as long as my lifespan allows it, but I cannot and will not tell you that I will stay forever."
There was an aching silence that followed. As though this was concrete, like this was just shattering. You didn't know what it was breaking, you didn't know if it was your relationship or him, but you had to try and fix it before it worsens.
"Kuni, I love you, I want you to be happy, not just now but onwards as well." Your gaze falls onto his hands. You want to reach out, but you cant bring yourself to out of fear he'd deny you. You know he might want you to, as a sign of.. anything, but you can't. "I don't want you to rely on me, I want you to be capable of accepting yourself and finding comfort within who you are."
"Well then, ...Who am I?" The wanderers head stays stuck to the ground as if if he keeps his sights on it it would open up and just, do something, swallow him, let him forget this, forget everything, Bury him deep in the dirt and have the roots of all life suffocate him. "What?"
"You said within who I am, so, who am I?"
You didn’t want to do this a second time, "Kuni-"
"Please," He pauses, releasing a shaky breath from the confines of his chest. "just answer."
"You're who you say you are. I won't define you."
He latches onto your wrist, pulling you to him, underneath his hat as his head beckons upwards and you finally get to see his face rid of that anger. Instead, it is replaced with a pleading look, almost desperate. "I want you to,"
"I need you to do it. I don't know how else I am meant to do it. I don't know who I am. I wasn't meant to have an identity, I'm not like you, I'm not a human." In a way, admitting that was a painful thing. No matter how alike to humans he was, he wasn't one. "You were made, I was built. You breathe the moment you are born, I taught myself to." The more he spoke you felt like he was trying to implement this difference into your mind, that if you couldn't promise him forever you should be irked by him.
"We are different, but you are still a person to me. Do you think that I've ever seen you as anything else? Do you think I want to leave you alone? I care for you, I do so much that it kills me. And I hate how if you asked something of me I'd give it to you so easily, but not this. I won't lie to you." It would've been an odd thing for you to say, but to you, the wanderer made you feel alive, it made all the previous events of your life pale in comparison, and you truly, felt alive. You don't know why but with this emotion came care and you want to continue to value him, to love him, even when you've passed.
"Our relationship doesn't matter, you just need to know that I love you." You yank his wrist and pull him into you as your other arm slips under his and around his back, holding him tightly as you rest your head in the coup of his neck. "I love you, Kuni. I love you, I love you, I love you." And with each time you repeated it you lifted your head to his neck, planting small kisses, hoping he can feel it, what you do.
The wanderer merely stood there, paralysed. He still wants the unreal fantasy of eternity. But, he finds himself caving to the warmth of what you were offering despite how bittersweet it. It was fulfilling despite the fact it reflects the temporary time you two had, but he no longer found his mind wandering off to then, to when you'd slip away from him. He could feel you. Hands slither to your back, pulling you deeper into him, so deep till there was no space between you two but he still wanted more. He wanted to be with you, just as one, to know all of you. And he was worried he wouldn't have enough time for that. But just for now, for this moment, he wants to listen to your voice, to feel your body temperature, and rest.
He simply leans in, and kisses your forehead, before tilting his head onto yours. This is fine, this is okay. He can live with this, for as long as he can have it.
#wanderer#kunikuzushi#scaramouche#wanderer angst#wanderer genshin#wanderer x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#genshin impact#scara x reader#genshin scaramouche#genshin scara#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche angst#genshin kunikuzushi#kunikuzushi angst
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꒰ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓? ꒱ 古賀祐大
summary : you and your boyfriend broke up on bad terms, however, you can't seem to get over him when it would be so easy to be under him instead
genre : angst, non-idol!k x afab!reader, 1st person pov (yeah idk why either)
tws : angst, suggestive content, kissing, alcohol consumption, language, toxic!k, lovesick!reader, jealousy, verbal fight
author notes : fuma’s innocent don’t do girl don’t do itttt
word count : 2.2k
my phone pinged! and i debated ignoring it — for the nth time in the last hour. the music was blasting, the bass shaking the house in a dub-step rhythm. i took another swig from the metal can that had somehow made it into my hands as another text rang out and caught the attention of the girl attached to my arm. the smooth liquid was the best the bottom-shelf had to offer, and beggars can't be choosers when trying to get drunk fast.
her eyebrows knit, eyes locking on the piece of machinery closest to her sights, then raising to mine.
honestly, right now, i wanted to throw the overly-expensive communication piece at the wall and watch it shatter. i looked to her, the phone, and then the can, taking the rest of it back and crushing it like a frat-boy would.
she huffed out a laugh, "you didn't block him?" but, it wasn't so hard to believe and she knew it just as well as i did.
i still loved him, even after the couple of months we've been broken up; it's not because it was on good terms. actually, it was the complete opposite: we were shit to each other and it was best we went our separate ways. we should, in reality, hate each other. it would only be the natural thing for two people in our situation to do — however, i can't help fighting the urge to reply.
her disappointment was apparent, “y/n, are you kidding me. he’s not even here right now but you can’t stop thinking about him! pick any other guy, i beg.”
my senses were colliding like a car-wreck — leaving my better judgment in the leftover to never be found again. i could see the red and blue and hear the sirens howling out to the moon. still, even under my dying breath, his name would roll off it.
“i-i’m tryi —“
“don’t be ridiculous, i know you well.” she said, fishing the phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing out of my hand. she read out the top text, “y/n, come over. i need to apologize. I need y — he’s drunk. he only ever says shit like this when he’s drunk! you forget he was my friend before he ever dated you. and, god, do i regret introducing you to him.”
my heart sank, a nausea creeping up my throat. he was bleeding me dry, i knew it, but he could have it all; my skin, bones, blood and teeth.
“block his number before you do something we’ll both regret!” she handed it back, “you know i only want what’s best for you — you’re you for fuck sake! you could have anyone, and i mean anyone, yet the only person in your head only texts you at two fucking a.m. you deserve better than him, don’t kid yourself.”
tears pricked my eyes because i knew it was true, but the shooting pain only went away when his hands were on my skin. it was better to stay away, to not take the risk. he should’ve been — should be — the one to get away, and sometimes i also wished she’d never introduced me to the devil under a different name.
“okay,” i sniffled, her palm resting against my cheek comfortingly, “i’ll block him.”
“good.” she unlocked her arm from mine, pushing me forward, “now go find someone better! god knows the bar is low!”
i felt the brush of a body against mine as i found myself smack in the middle of the crowd. my head whipped to the sights of a boy, probably around the same age as me, half-lidded eyes and flushed features. he apologized but, honestly, it was my — her — fault, though he didn’t seem to register that it was anything but an accident, probably too drunk to.
it was an envious state, i thought.
i smiled lightly, her words echoing my mind, “its okay. i’m sorry. my name’s y/n.” his face was soft with godly-defined structure: sharp nose, eyes and plush lips that upturned with a smile resembling mine.
“fuma!” he said, trying to shout over the music. however, something about his tone told me he wasn’t loud, exactly the opposite in fact: gentle, and warm. something my boyfriend — ex — had lacked when we were still together once upon a time. “you’re very, uh, beautiful.”
i laughed at his awkwardness, though i had to read his lips to understand. “thank you,” i replied, pulling him down to my height to hear each other better. my lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “you’re very pretty too.”
he visibly shuddered as i pulled away, furthering my slight sense of pride, mostly because i never had an effect over the only person i wanted to.
he choked out, “d-do you want a drink?” and i nodded, grabbing at his empty hand. the friend i had come with gave me an approving smile and shrugged as if to say the cliché, 'he's cute and you only live once.' he froze, obviously a little shocked by our sudden intimacy, however he brushed it away and led us both to a quieter area; weaving through lip-locked and timely-jumping college students.
i found myself pushing up onto the counter top, watching as he grabbed two beers from an already opened case. they were warm, but again, beggars can’t be choosers when trying to get drunk. he cracked it open and handed it in my direction.
his eyes wouldn’t land on mine, but only stared at the lips that were taking the smooth liquid so easily, watching my throat bob with every gulp. he shifted, leaning against the painted-wood-plastic at my side.
after a moment of deafening silence he asked. “do you go to this school?”
“no.” i replied, letting the can rest against my crossed legs, “i’m here with a friend.”
“a boyfriend?”
the words stung, because no matter the truth, i still wanted to say yes. i still wanted to be able to call the person i loved so deeply my boyfriend — to have him pick me up from this stupid frat-party and not have anyone say anything about it. i still wanted him, and i knew exactly why, though i’d never admit it.
i bit my lip and fuma must’ve, even through his clouded state, read the room. “a sensitive subject, i’m sorry.”
“don’t be sorry, i, uh, don’t have a boyfriend.”
“anymore.” he corrected. maybe it was because he was drunk that his words, even slurred, were so truth-filled it stung. “but i can tell you still want him to be.”
“no,” you paused, both knowing it was a lie, “i want to forget about him. he’s not here.”
“he’s not?”
“i don’t give half-a-fuck where he is in actuality.” you swallowed a bit of your pride, as well as some beer, “if he wanted to, he would. right?”
“right.” he replied, taking another swig.
i looked at him, all of him in disbelief. he knew i was a liar, but at the end of the day he didn’t even know me the way my ex could claim. maybe, i thought, that it was the best possible situation for me to be in. actually, it was the best i could make of this fucked up reality.
my voice lowered ever-so-slightly, “do you want to?”
“be your boyfriend?”
“woah, slow down there cowboy. let’s not go that far right now — we both know i’m not over my ex.”
i couldn’t tell if his face flushed from embarrassment or just the copious amount of alcohol running through his blood. “then, do i want to what?” he breathily-laughed out.
“make me forget?”
my reply almost sounded desperate, and i wondered if that resulted in an inclination to say yes. i wondered if that’s why i was pressed against the countertop i once sat criss-crossed on, lips locked with a stranger.
i felt guilty — a little lost — the sense of feeling so good but so wrong leaking through the thought of him; the man whose hands desperately groped whatever he could find, pressing our bodies so close i was convinced we could merge into one.
a moment ago it was true i wanted him to make me forget about my ex, i wanted him just as bad as he did me. but right now, the flashes of someone else strobed behind my eyelids, projected so nicely that i even wanted to forgive him — for the nth time in the years we spent on and off. i wanted to feel the intimacy of love, even if it was fake, but i couldn't when the only person i felt stockholm syndrome for was across the city.
but, a bus ride at this hour would be easy. it would take barely half and hour before i was underneath the man i wanted so pathetically.
my body shivered, but it wasn’t from the way fuma gripped my skin so gently. i felt a coursing guilt rush over me like a bad high. in reality, i knew i shouldn’t have offered, especially when both him and i were under copious amounts of influence; him worse-off than me. i was taking advantage of a good situation, a seemingly good guy, just to get over a bad for 40 minutes.
maybe i was just crazy — not crazily in love — but just plain fucking crazy. crazy for a man who wasn't mine anymore. crazy because i knew i shouldn't want him. crazy because i knew i was just losing a part of me that should've been lost a long time ago. crazy at the thought of being crazy.
"y/n" god, now i could ever swear i was hearing voices — his voice. well, that was until a hand grabbed my bicep, pulling me away from the tall man. "y/n, what the fuck are you doing?"
i didn't even get a chance to swing around fully before i was being pulled from the kitchen and out of the house entirely. the air was frosty, but honestly i couldn't be bothered to even feel cold; too annoyed to think of anything but the man who was still latched to my arm. eventually, i got fed up, after feeling copious amounts of despair fill my chest, pulling my limb from him.
he turned around calmly, despite the red i could see seeping behind his pupils. he tried to grab my hand this time, but i back away before he had the chance.
"don't — don't touch me, k." i crossed my chilled arms over my chest, one foot back and prepared to step again, "what are you doing here?"
"you weren't answering."
i scoffed, "i never answer, k. that's nothing new."
he didn't hesitate, and it was a little shocking, "your location is still on."
"that doesn't give you th-the right to just show up out of the blue!"
and despite being mad at him, he looked so damn cute with a pout on his face. i could tell he was somewhat drunk, a pink tinting his features i used to adore oh-so-much.
"but, you weren't answe —"
you yelled, "why would i answer you, k!" i couldn't understand his infatuation with the fact that i didn't answer his late-night texts, but maybe he was just as lovesick as i felt. "wh-why would i do that after all this time?"
was he just as damaged as i was? did he really still front like he cared, and was i still falling for it over and over again? it's said that to forgive takes strength, but right now i think that holding back is taking more out of me. he had my heart in his hands still, and despite dropping it countless times, he always knew when and where to pick it back up.
i wasn't sure if i loved him, but i'm just as unsure about not being in love with him. he's driving me to brink of insanity. he's gotten everything out of me, and it's taking everything in me to not muster up more.
if i had known that love would've had such a high price tag, would i still have felt the same way towards him? maybe the good could out-weigh this bad, but i was never one to wishful think before meeting his stupid-pretty eyes. i was never one to feel so unsure before having his stupid-hot skin on mine. i was never one to wear my heart on sleeve before he oh-so-gently pulled it out of me.
and maybe he was unsure too. maybe he didn't know why i wouldn't — couldn't — answer his messages. maybe he was one to think so highly of himself that s breaking up was just a suggestion.
did i love him enough to give him a fourth, fifth and sixth chance? yes. i loved him enough to forgive and forget after every little mistake, and that's what's eating at my brain. the hardest thing I've ever had to do was walk away while still loving him. so, why doesn't it feel like it's for the better? why doesn't his memory fade like its supposed to.
"admit that you only came to see if i was with someone else." i sighed, tears blurring over his frame, "admit that it was because you were blinded by jealousy. admit that you still want me, that you can't get over us as easily as i thought. admit that you still lo —"
"i love you, y/n."
reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!
#&team#kpop#kpop requests#kpop imagines#kpop writing#kpop bg#kpop oneshots#kpopidol#&team imagines#&team k#murata fuma#&team x reader#&audition#kpop suggestive#koga yudai#kpop angst#kpop fluff#kpop x reader#kpop fanfic#kpop scenarios#fluff#angst#k labels#&team fuma#suggestive
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The Catcher in the Rye
I might need a hat like that. Fashion is about having the confidence to face a hard and phony world and protect you from it.
“Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them—if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry.”
I figured I might start adding playlists to these posts, too. I didn't make this one but it's the best one since it's non-lyrical to focus on the lyrical prose of the book, and it's not so anachronistic. There's plenty of jazzy tracks in here that make me think of ambling a '50s New York street on a winter night. And even Holden wouldn't call them corny.
I was sort of sitting there getting ready to write a review of The Catcher in the Rye and it killed me. It really did. I get a big kick out of this book. But it can be so phony to write about a book that everyone knows. That can be so crumby. Still, maybe I could sort of get a bang out of writing like Holden Caulfield.
Sorry. Ok. Me again.
And so we come to it at last. By which I mean, it hasn’t been that long. This is still early days of Project Hipster. The Hip is near infinite, at least insofar as my writing and reading and watching and eating and listening capacity can take me in one lifetime. But we’ve come at last to one of the defining books, not just of Hipster counterculture, which might or might not exist, but of the concept of counterculture in general, and of postmodernity and contemporary literature as a whole.
You can find lots of “Shit Hipsters Say” videos dated circa-2011 on Youtube, and most are a bit cringe. The exceptional masterpiece is the series by 1909 Productions. As a Brooklyn music video production co-op, they’re so deep into the scene that it makes me a bit jealous, so they know the real shit that makes it so much funnier. And among rambling lines about warehouse conversions and strange music, one of the pitch-perfect scenes is of a guy just glancing over knowingly and saying, almost suggestively, “Catcher in the Rye.” That’s how Hipster this book is - it’s just the title. Why?
Well, I theorize that it’s for a few reasons.
It’s a masterpiece of subtly experimental style
It was influential for Beats and Hippies, the progenitors of the twenty-first century fusion that is the Hipster.
And most importantly, to the point that those others are just gravy,
3. It’s entirely focused on the character of Holden Caulfield, the most intense and insufferable (but actually very sufferable and enjoyable) hipster you’ve never met.
Man, I don’t know how I can cover this one in one post. Catcher isn’t a long book, but every sentence is packed with meaning.
I’ve found it’s fairly common for Catcher to be derided online these days. I’ve seen it called “male manipulator lit,” which puzzles me a bit when Holden can’t manipulate anyone into anything. He occasionally thinks he might be able to, but it never goes well. Maybe it’s because it’s male-focused and emotionally sensitive, and some might hold that a man showing emotion is obviously doing it to garner sympathy, manipulatively. I hate everything about this thought process, so let’s move past it. Others say that Holden is annoying, self-centered, whiny, miserable in his own head. To that I say: aren’t we all?
The common factor is apparent. It’s never the writing that drives people one way or the other on Catcher, it’s the character. The perception of a whiny and privileged character. There’s a want to dismiss Holden’s suffering and isolation because he’s grown up rich and had expensive schools paid for. Never mind that his parents are paying for those schools because they can’t deal with him being at home. Never mind that Salinger, who fought through D-Day and saw the Holocaust in person, chose this kid as the lens he wanted to use to explore what the isolation trauma feels like. Him and the Glass family in Franny and Zooey. That one felt like less of a challenge to review, because it’s not SUCH a landmark. These messed-up kids were a veteran’s way of processing his broken generation. That’s why I consider Salinger one of the Beats. Maybe he’s not so much a branch off the Beat tree, but he’s like a poplar split in half at the base of the trunk that grew into two trees. Because even if he never did drugs with Kerouac, they were both of that lost generation trying to figure out where they belonged after the shattering of the American idyll in the war, the split in psyche between those who suffered through war and those state-side who prospered from it. Kerouac found a lifestyle, albeit not a healthy one, that saw him find a new place. Salinger was even more beaten than that, and that’s why his literature all focuses on the search, not the finding. That’s a common factor in alleged “hipster literature” that’s come my way via this project, being the voice of lost and shaken generations, and I have my theories on that. While millennials at the turn of the 10s hadn’t suffered through a world war like Hemingway or Fitzgerald or Salinger or Kerouac or Vonnegut, they’d had their view of the future shaken by the sudden collapse of the market of opportunities. Modernism and confident conformity to the old way, be that European imperialism or American capitalism, suddenly held less promise. Is it any wonder that the contemporary hipster, the postrecession searcher for purpose, would feel the connection?
But this is all reading things autobiographically, which Salinger hated. He went into seclusion after writing Catcher, rather than respond to any of all the inevitable questions raised by the cryptic text. Right near the start, in chapter 3, Holden says “what really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours, and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it.” There’s some irony to Salinger writing that dialogue (It’s not in quotation marks, but the whole book is dialogue) in a book exactly like that, and then hiding himself away from it.
Speaking of the start.
Catcher starts with our boy Holden getting kicked out of another fancy private school. Except it doesn’t. The beginning is after the end, establishing that Holden is writing the story from some sort of psychiatric institute, and he never outright says that it’s a form of therapy, but why else would he be writing like this, diving into his thought process as much as he can, but never too deep, always bobbing back up into the safe air of narration, hinting at further depths? We’re about to read two hundred compact little pages (like I said, Catcher is a pretty short book, and it reads at such a clip that it’s through before you know it and leaving the reader wanting more, which leads them to Franny and Zooey) of this kid wandering the city looking for any sort of conversation that can feel meaningful to him, anyone who’s willing to listen. There’s something of a subtly implicit happy ending threaded into every chapter though, in the fact that we’re able to read it. “Listen,” says Holden, to begin many a sentence, and if we’re open-minded readers, we do. Here is his voice laid bare, with all the vulnerabilities and wrong thoughts and contradictions of life confused and teetering on the cliff-edge of adulthood, and we can choose to see through it to a kernel of lonely soul yearning for connection. Though even in the writing, Holden’s most vulnerable dialogue, there are walls. He “sort of” does more things than he outright does. He starts off by denying the reader any backstory, and this is a funny knock at overwrought “David Copperfield kind of crap,” common to classic literature, but it’s also him being protective of his life. Who are you to want to know that crap, dear reader? By the way, I hate movies. Never mind that when I meet up with Sally the first thing I suggest doing is going to a movie.
Everyone is a phony to this kid, maybe because he’s phony to everyone, including You The Reader, but for the most part he doesn’t hate them for it. Mostly he feels sorry for them, thinking they may not have genuine connection in their lives. I'll turn the table, then, and thing the same about him. On the other hand, when Holden gets on about people close to him that he genuinely likes - dead brother Allie, Jane Gallagher, and above all Phoebe - the pages become third person love letters. This kid is full of love and full of resentment and rattled by trauma but trying to remain pure and trying to keep others pure in the innocence of childhood, where all good things are petrified as in a museum. But he comes to learn, just a little bit at the end as he watches Phoebe place his hat on his head, knowing it helps him. Full of love and pride he watches her grow up just a half-step more, her red hair curling into the curling ornamentation of a carousel horse to create one of the most iconic cover images ever. It’s all contradiction and denial more than straightforward convinced ideology, and isn’t that what growing up is all about? Isn’t that what living in this confusing, contradictory, phony world is all about? It’s laughable and serious and pretentious and vulnerable and scornful and sweet.
Of course, classic books can also be evaluated by their legacy, and Catcher has a huge one. Other books of the mid-century might have had their impact on culture mainly through more widely accessible movie adaptations. Catcher never did, per Salinger's express intent. He never really said why, except that he didn't want to see an intensely personal story adapted by someone else. It's amazing, then, that a solely textual work, so defined by unique textual style, could spawn arguably a whole genre. I see The Outsiders cited as the first modern young adult or teen novel often enough. The word "teenager" was only invented in the fifties, after all, as adolescence began to be recognized as its own stage of life. But Catcher came just before. The Outsiders would probably exist without it, but the modern universe of YA books, from Judy Blume to Leigh Bardugo, thousands of stories that may be wildly genre-diverse but by definition featuring young heroes facing the burgeoning confusion of maturity, responsibility, sexuality, and complexity, would probably look very different without the big splash of a landmark excellent exploration of those themes right at the postwar dawn of American cultural hegemony. Famous coffee company John Green has built a prominent splinter of his own wildly diverse career on just this kind of story. I do plan to read some of those as Project Hipster continues. It's no surprise then that he's made no less than seven videos about The Catcher in the Rye. If you want to continue thinking that anything I wrote here is remotely original, don't watch those.
Oh, yeah, I forgot one more reason that hipsters love Catcher in the Rye
4. They’ve got good taste, and this is a damn good book.
In fact,
I give this hipster book five hunting hats out of five.
Project Hipster is a futile and disorganized attempt to dive into the world of things that the internet has at some point claimed "are hipster," mostly through ListChallenges search results.
This review comes from the Twelfth list, Only Hipsters Have Read 17/35 of These Books.
Up next: a movie I enjoyed but I’m not sure I fully “got.”
Stay deck.
#the catcher in the rye#catcher in the rye#jd salinger#books#literature#hipster#Spotify#project hipster#long posts
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Almost a year and a half later and the ending to NWH still pisses me off with how it disrespected MJ as a character. Peter’s relationship with MJ is supposed to be one of the most important and defining relationships of his life, but in the MCU she’s just a high school girlfriend he dated for a few months. And yeah, the choice to ‘break up’ with her and the way he did it is incredibly important and defining, but the relationship itself is going to become more and more inconsequential the more time passes. Which to be fair, is how most breakups tend to be. Except peter dated her so briefly that he’ll probably be entirely over her in less than a year. A few years MAX. Now, if they did the intelligent thing and make the home trilogy take place post-college and had Peter and MJ be a long term established relationship from the beginning that we saw develop and grow even further over the course of three movies, then Peter choosing to leave her after a memory wipe would actually mean something. But they didn’t. So she’s just a girl that Peter knew for a few years and dated for a few months and he’ll be completely over her by the next movie. If we ever get another movie. And as an MJ fan that just doesn’t sit right with me.
I think there’s an important shift here where I disagree with you on a fundamental thing.
Peter will not be forgetting MJ anytime soon.
MJ, on the other hand, already has.
I agree, it’s offensive how they treated MJ in the MCU trilogy. Full stop end of story. But I think the memory wipe— something I was adamantly against for MONTHS before NWH— only works because they have no relationship to speak of. A OMD ending for the sake of tearing them apart after years together makes it reductive, but there is no love story to tear apart. There is no connection that binds them in this way. Peter, who made this decision to step away, will not be forgetting MJ at all— if anything his feelings might be stronger because of it. He’ll still try and move forward, I would think because that’s what Peter Parker will always do but I do not agree that he’ll forget her.
MJ— who has no memory of Peter— has and imo, she will be the one who could easily discount her memories if/when she gets them back. It was SUCH a big pet peeve of mine to see fics written and PRAISED where it’s been five, ten years since the events of NWH and BOTH Peter and MJ never dated anyone else, never loved anyone else, always felt like they were missing something… only for the memories to return and for MJ to be still blindly devoted to Peter after a decade of living without him.
It is such a gross slap in the face from a fandom that claims to love MJ to make her so codependent, so simple minded and so shallow that she’s still desperately in love with a boy she dated for four months at most when she was seventeen that a DECADE later she completely ignores that time away (and worse, for the fics that made Peter all but stalk her, to IMMEDIATELY forgive him and then jump into bed with him). That to me is insulting to MJ’s character and I’ll forever think everyone who gobbled up those fics as people who didn’t give a shit about MJ as much as they claimed, they just wanted romantic fantasy that could be boiled down to misogynistic tropes.
I don’t have the most confidence in the MCU to treat MJ— and their eventual coming back together— right. But I do have hope, if only because they took concepts I openly despised as a possibility in NWH (May dying, the multiverse, the OMD ending) and made it work so well.
Lighting might not strike twice. But I can hope until I’m proven wrong.
Just as I can hope that if the writers are still scrolling through ao3, they are not so continually horrible to treat MJ just as badly as so much of fandom did.
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Oh no pleeeaaase you can't possibly let us on a cliffhanger! What happened next?! Did he get back his memories?
[1 2]
The second kiss didn't change anything.
Nico had been "dating" his forgotten husband for about four days when it happened.
He had felt... fond, of the man after they had gone grocery shopping, and decided to try a quick peck on the lips.
He didn't feel any different, and Percy had been down for the rest of the day.
Now Nico was just thinking. What did it mean to be in love? Or to have a love returned? Did he need to feel things as intensely as Percy did for the seal to be broken? If so, it would take months if not years to reach that point.
He would reach it eventually, because Nico found out that Percy Jackson was stupidly easy to love.
But it would still be a bummer for both of them that i would take so long.
"Good night, Nico," Percy said after they had finished the show they were watching that night.
"Wait," he said suddenly. "Why don't you take the big bed today? You have to work an extra shift tomorrow, right?"
Percy smiled and shook his head.
"We bought it so you could sleep better," he reasoned. "The guest room bed is fine for me, but you would be tossing and turning all night."
"Right..." Nico said. He hesitated for a second before deciding to bite the bullet. "But what if... we both slept in the main bedroom?"
Percy's eyes widened. Nico felt his face grow hotter.
"I-it's a King Size bed, you know? I don't take that much space and... you can't fool me." Nico touched the bags under his eyes, barely noticeable. "You aren't sleeping that well either."
"That has nothing to do with the bed," Percy said in a low voice, his eyes still as sad as the first day.
Nico felt his chest hurt. He took Percy's hand and started pulling him towards the bedroom.
"I like you, Percy... and I trust you," he said honestly. "It may not be love yet, but... I don't mind sharing a bed with you. I'd actually prefer it if you were there tonight."
Percy raised an eyebrow and smirked, the sadness in his eyes dimming.
"Oh, do you?" He said in a suggestive voice, wiggling his eyebrows and everything. Nico laughed.
"Yeah, you're cute enough," he said nonchalantly. "I wouldn't kick you out of bed, literally."
Percy chuckled.
"I feel so loved right now," he said. Nico smiled.
So did he.
----
Nico woke up early to find that, somehow through the night, he had ended up cuddling with Percy.
He looked closely at his husband's sleeping face and marveled at how peaceful he looked.
If only that sadness didn't come back once he awoke.
He untangled himself carrefully (not that he needed to, the Son of Poseidon slept like a log) and went to the kitchen, wanting to have breakfast ready before Percy had to go to work.
He decided on some eggs in purgatory. He had been looking up how to make them a few months back, after all.
(Why had he done so? The reason escaped him at that moment.)
Just as he was ready to plate up, he felt a pair of arms snaking around him.
"Smells good," Percy mumbled. Nico turned back and smiled.
"Let me go before I burn it, then, you dork," he said affectionaltely.
"Oh, the food smells fantastic," Percy said. "But I was talking about you, Ni."
Nico rolled his eyes and moved a bit, managing to cut up the eggs and plate them. Percy cheered. He moved with his arms still around him until he forcefully sat him down at the table.
Percy responded by kissing him before he managed to get away.
"Real mature, Percy!" Nico said as he sat down. Percy shrugged and started eating. "You know, I've been thinking..."
"Yeah?" Percy asked, mouth full of egg and tomatos.
"What if I don't get better?" Nico asked. "What if I never come to love you like you love me? And what even is 'Love Returned'? How do you define that, really?"
Percy winced.
"Ugh, it's too early for you to show off your Philosophy Minor, Love," he said. "Things will be fine."
Nico huffed.
"Well, at least I use it, when was the last time you used anything from that ceramics class you took in community college, huh?" Percy's eyes widened as he stared at him. Nico smirked in victory. "That's what I thought!"
"Nico, I never told you I took a ceramics class... or that I went to community college," he said in wonder.
"Why would you need to tell me? I was... there..." Nico's eyes widened too. He stayed quiet, thinking of what to say, but he was so shocked he just said what came to mind first. "Do you like your breakfast? I learned it for you."
Well, to be fair, when he took on the seal, he hadn't realized he had forgotten Percy. Just as he hadn't realized he now remembered everything from Westover to now.
Percy grinned. Finally there was no more sadness in his eyes.
"It's delicious," Percy said.
The curse would break from a kiss of a 'Love Returned', and Nico hadn't really 'returned' anything until last night. He had just been enjoying Percy's affections, but not giving anything back.
Until he offered him a bed, and made breakfast for him that morning.
He had never stopped loving Percy, not really, he just wasn't returning that love properly.
"Do you... remember everything?" He asked hesitantly. Nico pretended to think it over.
"You know, I'm not sure," he said teasingly. "I may need a deeper kiss to make sure everything's in order."
Percy grinned and moved his chair to its proper place, right beside Nico's.
Their kiss was needy and long, leaving them both out of breath.
"I can call in sick," Percy murmured, brushing their lips together with every word. "You know, just to make sure."
Nico pulled away and raised his eyebrow.
"You already skipped work all week," Nico said. "You love your job, and you'll keep it even if I had to drag you there myself."
Percy sighed, but the smile didn't leave his face.
"Welcome back, Nico."
"What are you talking about?" He asked. "I never really left."
#Percico#my writing#and this is the end#it was so much fun#but I'm happy ending it here#writing prompt#ask#anonymous
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Homicide
Lauryn L.
Up and down, up and down, up and down. There was nothing to do in this house besides throw this ball in the air. It helps me zone out more than I actually try to zone out if you get what I mean. Instead of staring at the ceiling like a complete idiot, I throw the ball up in the air until something interesting happens. I’m supposed to be hanging out with Jasmine today but I might not. Jasmine is a good friend of mine and also one of my friend’s crushes. Every time I decide to hang out with Jasmine, that friend is always there. I can never get alone time with her because they’re always clinging to her. I sigh angrily just thinking about it. What if I liked Jasmine a bit? Honestly, she wouldn’t like me back. I think she’s straight. She wouldn’t date a trans girl, right? Well, I couldn’t assume that. Who knows. I continue to throw the ball up in the air until I hear my doorbell ring. I lazily get up to open the door and guess who it was, Jasmine.
“Hey,” I say
Jasmine looks at me and doesn’t say anything. She had this terrified and traumatized look on her face. I was going to question what was wrong but I heard a huge explosion not too far from us. Jasmine pushed me back inside and closed the door, locking it behind her.
“Yo, what the?”
“Felix, it’s madness out there,” Jasmine finally speaks.
I give her a confused expression. I could tell by that big ol’ explosion that just happened. That totally wasn’t obvious.
“People just started killing each other!”
“What?”
I wasn’t clearly processing everything that was going on. People just randomly started killing each other? Did society finally decide to say “I want to kill people!” and just shank them multiple times? Seems so.
“I don’t know what’s happening but I was walking to the store and someone just stabbed someone.”
I got back and dusted my clothes off. I was not ready for this day to come… This is the end of the world.
CHAPTER ONE: ONLY THE BEGINNING
Holy hell, we’re all going to die. Actually, people are going to die, not me. At least I had some defense. I knew how to fight for a girl. Well, a guy but you get my drift. While Jasmine was in a complete state of shock, I was getting weapons ready and packing my bags. Jasmine began to watch me as I started packing everything. If we wanted to survive this, we had to be prepared. I don’t give a damn about anyone else, this was about me and Jasmine staying alive.
“What’re you doing?”
“Packing my things? If it’s about to be the end of the world, why wait until we die?”
Jasmine was about to say something but then my lights started flickering and eventually turned off, great. Now we don’t have a light source or electricity. Jasmine looked out the window to see all the lights turn off and our town was basically dark. It looked like it had been a blackout or something.
“Leilani— I mean Felix.”
I sighed and looked at Jasmine. I didn’t like my birth name really, too girly for me. It’s cute but I would rather just go by Felix or Lei.
“Yes?”
“Are you not scared?” Jasmine asked
“Not really. I’ve waited for this day to come anyways.”
We all knew that the world was going to go insane like glass shattering. The glass represents the people staying in order and when it breaks, that means people have gone lunatic. Like now. People have decided to go on a killing spree or another word for this chaos, homicide, manslaughter. They’re killing innocent people for no reason! This is something I hate about this world. They rob, take, kill, and rape for anything. Most of the time, they do it for money or they’re just pure evil. Just like the government and politics. But never mind such awful topics, we need to adapt to this situation and think of ways to keep ourselves alive. My mom was out at work but I’m sure she’ll survive… Or I really don’t care. My mom was so unsupportive of me and how I wanted to be “different.” She said that it was only a phase and I’d go back to “normal” eventually. People can’t even define the word normal. There is no normal in this horrid world. People try and be normal but what is it? How do we know if we’re average or ordinary? Who knows.
“Felix, I’m so scared. Are we going to die? What’re we going to do…” Jasmine says again.
I sigh and wrap my arms around her. I hugged her as tight as I could. I didn’t want Jasmine to be scared, I wanted her to be brave. This usually happens in movies and only movies but somehow that fake reality copied and pasted into our world. I watched a lot of post-apocalyptic movies before. I think I can take those strategies and make them real. But more realistic and rational than what directors make up. Half of the time, those movies are so unrealistic and stupid. Why do people decide to make idiotic choices? Like just be smart, simple? Or I guess it isn’t simple to be smart. I zoned out for so long that I forgot I was hugging Jasmine. By the time I noticed, Jasmine was bawling. How did I not hear that…
“Woah, are you okay?” I ask
Jasmine tried to speak but her words were not English. More like an alien language. I tried to listen to what she was saying but all I saw was a very ugly crying face. I know that’s really petty. Trust me, I know. I’m sorry, Jasmine did not look very appealing at that moment.
“Jasmine relax. We’re not going to die.”
Then she started sobbing even louder, good lord. I wasn’t very good at comforting people so I stood there and watched her cry. I didn’t know what to say or do. The only thing I could do was let her get it out. She’s scared and I cannot control how she reacts to things. I wasn’t scared, I didn’t feel anything at that moment. I just tried to comfort Jasmine as she cried. I gently patted her head, I ran my fingers through her long black hair.
I felt bad that Jasmine was crying. As much as I wanted to cry too, I kept my tears in. I couldn’t start crying now. I pat Jasmine’s back before I let her go. I told her to be brave and that we’d get through this together. She nodded her head and grinned at me as she cried. I smiled back and started gathering the rest of our weapons. Once we finished, we said goodbye to the house for now. I’d lock the doors and when we needed a place to stay we’d have my house. I’m not going to sit in my house while chaos is happening. Let’s join the fun.
I grab Jasmine’s hand and start running down the road with her. As we ran, we saw houses on fire, people fighting, and stores getting robbed. Wasn’t this a sight to see? I know I may sound insane but I knew this would be fun. It’s like I’m in my own video game where I make the choices I wanted and not some characters. Whatever I do affects the future. Jasmine gripped my hand tighter the more she witnessed our surroundings. I found it entertaining but Jasmine was terrified. People looked at us while we ran. I was waiting for someone to approach us, I’d be ready. Not too far from us, some guys were fighting. One was a lanky middle-aged man with oily, messy hair and the other was much bigger. He was also very bald. His head was shiner than getting your shoes cleaned. The bigger man had a shotgun which made me a bit uneasy. What if we run that way and get shot? I stopped running with Jasmine to wait for the two men to stop fighting. They sure stopped fighting alright.
The guy shot the middle-aged man. When he shot him, the man’s head blew off, splashing blood everywhere. Including us. We weren’t too far away from the scene so we got blood on our clothes and faces. I smiled from ear to ear then I looked at Jasmine. She looked like she was ready to scream. I grabbed Jasmine and went down another street instead of the one we were standing at.
As we ran the other way, the scenery made me smile even more. I saw a big fire not far from us and how the smoke mixed into the air. The burning dust flew into our faces as we ran in that direction. I didn't want to speak because I knew I would taste the burning flakes and that's honestly disgusting. I couldn’t really see because of the smoke. I started coughing as carbon dioxide started building up in my lungs. My vision got a bit blurry until I bumped into someone. I could tell who it was just from one glance. Ajax. He looked shocked to see us at first but then embraced Jasmine. I covered my nose with my arm as they hugged and stuff. I felt myself getting irritated and wanted to leave badly.
“Oh my god, Jasmine! You’re okay!” Ajax said.
Jasmine nodded repeatedly and smiled. I glared at Ajax and how he touched her. He was going to speak again before I grabbed Jasmine’s arm and tried to pull her away. She took her arm from me forcefully. Jasmine looked at me angrily and went back to Ajax. I felt betrayed. She was choosing him over me?
“Come on, Jasmine. Stop fooling around. You know he’s not going to keep you safe,” I say.
“Sure I won’t. You’re a bigger target than me.”
What was that supposed to mean? I ignored it and tried to take Jasmine’s hand again but she ignored me.
“It’s obvious she wants to stay with me, Felix. Just go.”
I looked at Jasmine with glossy eyes, feeling my eyes well up with tears. My own best friend was going to leave me in this chaos? After everything I’ve done for her… She chooses a guy over me. I let my anger take over me and I pushed Ajax.
“You’re always taking her away from me! Jasmine, are you really going to leave me? I thought we were best friends.”
“We are.”
“Felix, do you realize we can die because of you? You’re one of those mentally ill people. You’re gay! Nobody accepts people like you around here,” Ajax adds.
I rush up to him and punch him right in the face while Jasmine tries to push me back. The next thing I knew, Ajax had punched me so hard that I fell back onto the ground. I saw both of them look at me before running off. I wanted to get up but I felt my consciousness slipping away from me. I was about to black out. The smoke going into my lungs, me getting punched in the face, and hitting the ground super hard. Well, I guess this was my fate. I let my body shut down and I slowly closed my eyes as my surroundings got blurry. Then everything went black.
CALIFORNIA STATE — JULY 12TH, 2023 — 8:30PM
Hours later, I woke up. Luckily the moon was shining super bright. I had some form of a light source. Well, natural light from the moon. I was still a little woozy from that punch so I sat there for anymore few more minutes before I tried to get up. I felt my nose to see if it was broken but it wasn’t. But I definitely felt dry blood when I touched it. I sighed heavily. I touched my stomach to feel my bare skin. When I did, I jolted up. Whatever pain was in my body rushed up to my head like when blood rushes up to your head. I automatically grabbed my forehead, waiting for the pain to stop. I looked down to see I didn’t have a shirt anymore. I assumed someone thought I was dead and stole my shirt. Now I was left cold and in a sports bra. I slowly pushed myself up from the ground. I tried to ignore all the pain rushing through my body. It hurt so bad I could cry and I barely cry. Then I realized, I cried today because of Jasmine. I clenched my fist tightly. I felt my nail digging into my skin but I didn’t care. I can’t believe her. She left me for that excuse of a man. He wasn’t even worth it anyways. He was only after her body, not her personality.
After all my sulking, I decided to walk around. It was so silent to the point where if someone was breathing close enough to you, you’d hear it. Dead drop silent. My ears started to ring a bit as I walked around. But isn’t this just a lovely scene? Dead bodies and blood painted all over the ground. Ajax was right, I am a bit crazy. I like a bit of gore but I never thought I’d see it in real life. This was amazing! I did a twirl and smiled brightly. I continued to walk until I heard a noise coming from an ominous alleyway. I slowly walked towards the alleyway which was definitely a white people move. Like in those horror movies, they go to the sound and get killed. But I was black, I’m not scared. Well, I was blasian. I couldn’t really see what was going on but some people were hurting a woman. I thought about what I should do before charging into the scene. Should I yell out? Or should I just stand there and see what happens? My heart started beating faster and faster. I didn’t know what I should do. I didn’t want to charge into a random scene and lose my life trying to save some random girl.
“Hey! Who’s there?” I shout out
The figures take a look at me before running away. They scrammed like rats running away with subway pizza. The girl came running my way and grabbed my wrist, running as fast as she could. I couldn’t really keep up because she was so fast. As we ran, the natural light shined on the lady’s face a few times. She had blue-grayish eyes and long brown hair. From looking at it, I could tell her hair was super healthy. One thing that did catch my attention was her outfit… This random lady had an inmate jumper on. I slowly started to doubt myself. Did I really want to be running around with a criminal? But everyone always says, never to judge a book by its cover. I let the lady lead me to a random secluded area. Like how it was before, dead drop silent. However, the lady showed me a small shed that we could camp in. She opened the shed’s door and it looked pretty decent. Didn’t smell like absolute dog sh*t.
“Sit. Make yourself at home,” she says.
I find a spot to sit and sit down. My legs and feet were already killing me.
“So, what is your name?” I ask.
“Diva Manchester.”
Interesting name.
“I’m Felix. I rather not go by my real name.”
Diva scanned me up and down, analyzing my features. I felt a little shy since I didn’t have a shirt on. I looked at her as she did.
“Are you some type of masculine girl?”
“Precisely.”
She nods and grabs a bag from out of the darkness, starting to take out some types of items. It was probably food. I couldn’t see clearly but I definitely saw canned food.
“The inmate suit?” I bluntly asked.
“When the explosion happened, it was by the jail I was locked in. If you’re wondering why I went to jail, it was because I killed half of a school.”
My heart dropped.
“H-half of a school?”
“Nervous?” Diva asks
She smirks in the dark. At first, I felt scared but then I felt excited. Was I going to be killed by a mass murderer? It would seem fun to be killed by a mass murderer.
“Not in the slightest. I’m quite surprised. What weapon did you use?”
“A shotgun.”
I chuckle, “You didn’t fall back to the recoil?”
She shook her head, “I trained to use the gun before I decided to kill people.”
“Interesting. What was the reason?”
“To start off, I was angry. I was frustrated that they bullied me. They beat me, kicked me, threw food at me, push me down the stairs, slapped me, almost killed me, and cut me. They did everything to hurt me. Especially Jasmine, she was the worst.”
Jasmine? This time, I genuinely got scared.
“What was her last name?”
“Perez.”
My breathing got super fast and my heartbeat slowly increased. My best friend used to be a bully.
END ;)
Left you on a cliffhanger!
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December 2010: "Would-Be Likealittles"
This is iterative.
Text follows below the cut.
Did you know that when I first met you, I judged you harshly and thought you weren't worth my time? You were persistent, though, and talking to you became fun. You showed me your kindness later, and even though you disappeared for a few months there, I didn't forget about you so that when someone was querying about what kind of guy I liked on my formspring, I wondered if it was you and tried to leave hints to encourage you. Hanging out with you the first time was the most fun I'd had in a year and a half, but I thought I'd bored you because you disappeared again. When you came back, you were a large part of what made the last few weeks of my summer wonderful, and if things got complicated with hook-ups and dating and not-dating-but-fucking, that's okay. I'm glad all of this happened, I'm glad I met you, and I wish you weren't leaving.
--
When I first met you, I decided you weren't worth my time. It took a semester, but you proved me wrong. I saw less of you the following semester, but I didn't forget about you when you weren't there. We hung out once after that, and it was the most fun I'd had in a year and half, but you disappeared again. You came back quicker that time and made the end of my summer wonderful. This past semester has been complicated and confusing so that I've never really been sure where I stood with you, even when I had a title. But there's one thing that's been constant: I want to see you, and I wish you weren't leaving.
--
I don't think you know this, but when I first met you (over a year ago now) I judged you. I think it was more to do with the place I was in emotionally than anything about you yourself. Well you grew on me over a semester, wowed me at the end of it, disappeared for a while, showed me a wonderful time right when I needed it, disappeared a second time, and then made the last few weeks of summer the best I could've asked for. We hooked up, dated, stopped dating but kept seeing each other, and you're leaving forever. I'd like to ask you to come back, but I'm not Film. (wow. that sounds more bitter than it should)
--
A question for you, likealittle: What do you do when you've found someone amazing, had a handful of amazing months with them in a completely convoluted fashion, and are losing them?
You know what? I dated a guy I thought I loved for a year and half, and it was the worst part of my life, hands down. Then I dated a guy I thought I'd just have a friendly little fling with and shit got crazy complicated in a way that should have made me miserable but didn't. [...] You don't know how much I wish you weren't leaving.
Film is a lucky girl because you love her more than you will love any woman.
On more than one occasion, you've apologized to me for "dragging" me into your "lack of a life" (which I would argue is rather a surplus of one). Don't apologize for that. You don't know how wonderful this has been for me. I hope we keep in touch after you go.
You know what amazes me? That even though you must have been exposed to some of the worst of me first, you actually wanted to spend time with me. And here's something strange: every single time I see you, I like you more than I did the last.
Once upon a fortnight-old Wednesday, did you say "I love you," and did you mean it? You know, you're a pile of mixed messages, but I wouldn't be surprised to find that I am too. What if we've been confusing each other this whole time? Maybe we both want the same things at the end of the day?
[...]
--
Hey. Thank you for the time we had together. I don't know how to explain how much I've enjoyed this crazy, ill-defined fling or how to explain to you how you went from someone I disregarded off-hand to someone I have to force myself to not think about just so I don't get stuck on you once you're gone. How do I explain that every time I see you, I like you more than I did last time? How do I convey how much fun spending time with you is and how different it is to the time I spend with anyone else? If I was violently honest, wouldn't that just freak you out? But, well, you're leaving, so that just leaves: Thank you. And thank you again for the orange juice and chocolate.
When you're getting ready for your first night in L.A., remember to take out your contacts. ;)
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if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!
a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry.
also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj
warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist
Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.
“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”
“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.
“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”
“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”
“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”
“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.
“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”
“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”
“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”
Ah, fuck.
“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.
“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”
“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”
Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.
“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.
“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”
“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.
____
“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.
“What could I possibly get you?”
“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.
“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”
“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."
“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.
“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”
He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.
“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”
He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.
“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”
“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”
“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”
“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.
“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.
“It’s none of your busi-”
“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”
His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.
“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.
“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.
“I’m literally asking you.”
“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.
“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”
“Like Pandora’s Box?”
“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”
He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.
“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.
“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.
“Sir, you’re a geriatric."
“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.
“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”
He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”
“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”
“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”
“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”
“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.
“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”
“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”
“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”
“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.
“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.
“I want this to get over before this evening.”
“What time’s your date?”
“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.
“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”
“Five o’clock, now let go.”
“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.
“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.
You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.
A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.
“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.
Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.
“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.
“I told you; bad luck in a box.”
“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”
“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”
He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.
“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”
He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.
“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.
“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”
He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.
____
Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.
He isn’t used to having his weekends free.
He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.
His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.
It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.
The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.
He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.
He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.
He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.
“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.
They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.
He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.
The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.
Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.
He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.
Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.
He was sure he picked it up.
He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.
This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.
Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.
His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.
“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”
“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.
See? Good luck.
He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.
He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.
He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.
He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.
He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.
He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.
“Is everything okay?”
Fuck.
He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.
“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”
He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.
He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.
He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.
He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.
His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.
Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.
The box.
He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.
Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.
He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.
Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.
He fucking trips again.
“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”
He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.
Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.
No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.
He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.
There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.
There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.
There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.
The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.
Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.
The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.
He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.
“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.
He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.
“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”
Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.
The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.
It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.
The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.
Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.
The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.
He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.
Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.
Motherfu-
He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.
“James?”
“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”
“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.
“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."
“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.
“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.
“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.
“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.
“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”
“You must be really dehydrated."
Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”
He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.
“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”
He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.
“I, uh,-”
“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.
“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.
His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.
However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.
He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.
“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.
“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”
He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.
“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”
“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”
It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.
He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.
But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.
He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.
“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”
Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”
He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.
He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.
He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.
Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.
It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.
Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.
He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.
He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.
Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.
The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.
The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?
His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.
The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.
When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.
There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.
He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.
But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.
The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.
“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.
“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”
When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-
“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”
“I need you to fix whatever this is.”
“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.
There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.
The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.
The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.
He should have known. He should have fucking known.
Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.
In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.
It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?
There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.
It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.
But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.
He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.
The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.
His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.
“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”
He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”
“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.
It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.
“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.
“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”
“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”
He hesitates. “I guess?”
“Was she nice?”
“Yeah.” Where was this going.
“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”
“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”
“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”
“Just fix it.”
“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.
He waits for you to do something.
You flick him on the forehead.
“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”
What.
He says exactly what he’s thinking.
You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”
Huh?
“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”
He’s confused.
“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”
“The shoelaces?”
“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”
His face scrunches in puzzlement.
“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”
He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.
“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”
“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”
He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.
“What about the fucking geese?”
You pause for a second. “The geese?”
“And the elevator.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”
“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”
“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”
“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”
“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”
He nods briskly.
“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”
“Perfume?”
“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”
“It wasn’t an inator?”
“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.
“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.
“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”
“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?
“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.
Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.
“Wait here a second.”
You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.
“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."
He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.
You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.
He reluctantly extends it towards you.
“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”
You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.
“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”
“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”
“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”
“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”
“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”
He scoffs. “Thanks.”
You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.
He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.
“Bucky.”
He turns around.
There’s a hint of a smile on your face.
“Take the stairs.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice.
Next part
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#mcu fic#bucky fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky angst#bucky barnes angst#harmless fic#winter soldier x reader#Winter Soldier#bucky barnes#bucky
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figure it out {din djarin x reader}
summary: din djarin doesn’t usually get jealous. not until he met you, at least {for the lovely and wonderful @stargazingcarol} - 2.5k words
warnings: swearing
this is completely spoiler free!! just some good old jealousy and some antics with the kid. enjoy.
- jamie
You had a complicated relationship with the Mandalorian.
On one hand, you were colleagues…of sorts. He’d spent two years coming to your outpost on Corellia when he needed his ship fixing – and after becoming fed up of traipsing back and forth, he offered you the job full time. It was a mutually beneficial situation. You’d been desperate to get out the city for years, and you were also the only mechanic he trusted. The prospect of a job that would take you all over the galaxy was exciting, even if it meant tiptoeing around one another in the cramped hull of the Razor Crest (and that was before the addition of the Child). But, when you spent days and days in hyperspace with nobody else to talk to, it was only natural that you became friends. It had felt a little awkward at first, as though you were trying to force conversation with a man who just didn’t want to talk -- but then the Mandalorian’s barriers broke down, and things began to change.
You couldn’t quite pinpoint when. It had probably been a few months in, not long after he’d saved your ass from a bounty who had thrown a punch in your direction. You hadn’t expected the Mandalorian to be so protective - and frankly, neither had he. It was after that he found himself doing things without realising; lingering touches on your back when he passed, his hands brushing your thigh whenever you were sat in the cockpit next to him. Then, you became unintentional adoptive parents to a weird, green creature - a bond between you that only seemed progressed naturally, as though you had no control over it.
One night, not long after you took the Child in, you’d both collapsed beside one another on the tiny bed in hull of the Crest. Usually, you would argue for a while about who got to take it, but on that night, neither of you’d had the energy. Under the covers of the dark and with the baby finally asleep, you were muttering amongst yourself - you couldn’t remember the conversation entirely, but it was sleepy, tired gibberish. Din found himself reaching to take the helmet off; he could hear you easier that way, and your voice was comforting enough to lull him off to sleep. In the quiet of the moment, and with the conversation between you reaching a natural stopping point, he’d gently closed the gap between you. It was simple; his lips on yours, only for a brief moment. Then, as though the Child had sensed that everything was no longer about him, he’d opened his mouth and let out a cry for attention.
You began to kiss more often after that; every night before bed, actually. As soon as the lights were off, Din would take the helmet off, give you a gentle kiss and then he’d drift off, holding you tightly to his chest. It was always that, followed by a good night, cyar'ika. Then the morning would come, and it would be good morning, cyar'ika followed by another soft kiss, before the helmet went back on and you both went about your days.
After a few months of that, you’d fallen into an easy routine. Neither of you had quite established what your relationship was, but it didn’t feel like you needed to. It’s not like there was anyone else around for you to have to worry about, or anyone else who would force you to define it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating; Din Djarin had never been the type of person to plan ahead, and you knew that more than anyone. The idea of becoming attached to him, only to lose him or get hurt was enough for you to at least want to try and work it out. You weren’t expecting a deep conversation, or even one that you could walk away from knowing whatever the hell was going on between you two.
It was just that with the addition of the Child, and the two of you growing closer each day, you wanted an answer. You wanted to know if you were wasting your time; if this was simply a pit-stop on your way to finding a more permanent settlement, or if this was it. Though you’d never admit it, you wanted it to be the latter. Din was reliable, and he cared about you. He was sweet in his own way and he’d have gone to the ends of the galaxy to look after you. He was protective in a way that let you fight your own battles, but not in a way you’d ever have to do it alone. You felt safe with him - as though you’d found everything you were looking for, except neither of you had been looking at all.
You brought the question up on a slow morning. The Mandalorian was between bounties, and you’d briefly landed in a dusty outpost on a thick jungle planet to refuel and find some food. The kid was snoring away in his pod a few feet away, clearly feeding off of the relaxed atmosphere that you’d managed to create. You were laying beside him, the lights still off and your head buried in his neck. Both of Din’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, gripping onto you as though you might slip away into the darkness of the vast galaxy.
‘What are we?’ You asked quietly.
‘Humans.’ Right, there was the dry sense of humour.
‘Din.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m serious.’
‘What’s making you bring it up now, cyar'ika?’ He asked. ‘It’s early.’
‘I was just thinking.’ You sat up, pulling the covers with you. ‘We’ve been doing this thing for months but neither of us have actually worked out what the hell is it is.’
‘We don’t have to.’ He replied.
‘Right.’ You murmured.
‘It’s just-’
As though the little bugger had sensed a sudden onset of tenseness in the room, the Child let out a loud cry. You immediately recognised it: he was hungry. Even if you were ready to throttle anyone who dared come near him, you didn’t have a hard time admitting that he had a penchant for the worst timing. With that said, the fact he’d slept through the whole night without waking once certainly helped the fact.
‘Hey, buddy! It’s okay!’ You heard the mechanical click of Din’s helmet as he turned on the lights, allowing you to leap out of bed and stumble to the baby. ‘We’ll get you some food.’
That wasn’t the first time that something had magically changed the subject whenever you tried to bring up the status of your relationship with Din. If the kid didn’t decide to pull your attention away, it was the Mandalorian himself who veered away from the conversation. He always had to check on a bounty, or rush off to see if the ship was on the right route. It didn’t take a genius to work out that he was avoiding the subject entirely and you were starting to become frustrated.
After almost three weeks of trying to challenge him about it, you were close to giving in entirely. What if you were wasting your time? What if you were going to let yourself fall in love with him, only to find out you weren’t a permanent part of his plan? Fuck, did he even have a plan? Was that the life you wanted -
- it was at that point that your train of thought had stopped, because the Child sensed you were upset, and started bawling. Again.
A few hours after your fourth or fifth try at the conversation - once again to have it ended by the kid tossing a frog at you in an attempt to steal the attention back - the three of you ended up in a bar. It was a little cantina a few hours outside of Mos Eisley; it was much cleaner than the other bars you’d seen, and if it weren’t for your foul mood, you might have even enjoyed it.
‘What’s up with you?’ Din asked quietly.
‘Nothing.’ You murmured. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Your tone is off, cyar'ika.’
‘Leave it.’ You snapped. ‘I’m getting another drink.’
You moved the baby off your lap, placing him on Din’s instead. After digging around in your pocket for some credits, you quickly stood up and sauntered over to the other side of the bar, leaning against the wooden counter as you waited for your turn to be served. It wasn’t too busy - there were a few people floating about. Locals, you figured. It was a slightly fancier part of Tatooine, and you could see the difference in the people who were frequenting the establishment.
You were trying not to think about Din, or the fact he still refused to talk about what was going on between the two of you. You’d long surpassed the point of no return for your friendship - no, you were too invested now. Either he had to prove he was in it for the long run, or you had to walk away. Was that an unfair ultimatum? Not really. He’d started it, after all.
‘What’s a pretty thing like you doing waiting for a drink?’
You glanced up to see a man beside you, a half-empty flagon of beer in his hand. He was tall, dark and handsome; the type you used to briefly date back on Corellia. He smelt of expensive aftershave, and his clothes gave the impression he was quite well-off.
‘I could ask you the same.’ You replied.
‘So you think I’m pretty?’ The man quirked an eyebrow at you.
‘No, I...I mean, yeahhhh.’ You turned to face him, offering him a smile.
‘You’re here with that Mandalorian.’ He glanced over his shoulder, before leaning a little closer towards you. ‘What’s his deal?’
‘Honestly, I couldn’t tell you.’ You snorted. ‘I don’t think he knows what his deal is.’
The conversation was completely innocent - after all, you had no intention of anything happening with whoever this guy was. And even if you did, weren’t you technically single? You certainly weren’t in a relationship, at least not according to Din Djarin. He had no standing ground, nor any right to be jealous.
Still, that didn’t stop his entire body filling with rage the minute the man put his hand on your arm, and it certainly didn’t stop him immediately packing up all your stuff to leave the bar. Even the notion of another man touching you made him want to scream - let alone the actual sight of it. It was the way your new friend leant in a little too close, and laughed a little too hard at your jokes. You were funny, but you weren’t that funny.
‘We’re leaving.’ Din declared, suddenly appearing beside you.
‘Okay.’ You shrugged, glancing up at him. ‘I’ll meet you back on the ship later.’
‘No, I mean we’re leaving.’
You snorted. ‘I think you’ll find that I’m staying right here- oof!’
You let out a small squeak as the Mandalorian grabbed you with his free arm, tossing you over his shoulder. Before you could protest, or even apologise to the man beside you, he was marching you out of the bar and into the cool evening air of Tatooine. All meanwhile, the baby was giggling at the site of you with your legs in the air and your face planted against Din’s back.
The ship wasn’t far - probably not more than a two minute walk. Din had been conscious of the Child’s little legs when he’d parked at the outpost; he was becoming more independent now and insisted on walking places himself. It was just that he could only walk for five minutes before getting tired, but the little sod would cry if you tried to carry him. He was lucky he was cute.
‘What the hell was that?’ You snapped, barely catching your balance as Din planed you on the floor of the ship.
‘That man was flirting with you.’ Din simply stated. ‘I didn’t like it.’
‘You...’ you trailed off. ‘You didn’t like it?’
‘He was overstepping his boundaries.’
‘You were jealous, weren’t you?’ You let out a derivative snort, folding your arms across your chest.
‘You knew I could see you.’ Din was still calm.
‘And? It’s not like we’re in a relationship, is it?’ You murmured.
‘That’s not-’
‘ - let me finish!’ You cut him off. ‘I have been trying for weeks to talk to you about it, to see where I stand with you, and you always change the subject or try to run away from it! You have no right to be jealous, or to act like I’m with you because you have made it abundantly clear that I am not. Your high horse is basically a shetland fucking pony, Din Djarin!’
There was a silence between you for a moment. It felt good to have finally said it - you just wished you’d been a bit more gentle. Din had never seen you shout before, or even come close to losing your temper. He knew it was bound to happen but he had never imagined it being at him. Then again, if you’d tried to pick him up and force him out the bar against his will, he would have been angry too. (The thought of you even trying it was rather comical).
‘I was scared.’
That hadn’t been the response you were expecting.
‘Of me?’ Your voice was quiet.
‘I’m in love with you.’ He said bluntly. ‘That terrifies me.’
‘I...fuck.’ You felt as though the wind had been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with whatever grey smoke the Crest spat out when the engines were broken. ‘I love you too - but why does it scare you?’
‘Because it means I can’t ever leave you.’ Din continued. ‘And I want to give you the life you deserve but I don’t know if I can. Not with my job, not with the things I’ve done.’
‘Din.’ You took a step forward, his large hands enveloping yours as you did. ‘D’you think I care about any of that?’
‘I was afraid to ask.’
‘No offence, but you can be a bit thick sometimes.’ A small chuckle escaped your lips, even if tears were forming in your eyes. ‘I don’t care where we are or where we go, as long as I’m with you, then I have the life I want. That’s why I’ve been so off these last few weeks, because I was so scared you were going to turn around and push me away.’
‘That’s not going to happen.’ He said. ‘I’m not going to leave you - you have my word. I promise.’
‘So why don’t we just stop being scared and start just...being together?’
He briefly stepped away, hitting the control panel to turn off the lights in the ship. His helmet hit the ground with a thud, and a moment later, his hands were on your hips as he pulled you towards him. Din crashed his lips onto yours, closing the gap between you with a desperate kiss. You’d kissed before - more times than you could even begin to count - but this one felt different. It had meaning; purpose, in fact. It was as though the last few months’ worth of feelings that the Mandalorian had been pushing aside had finally broken.
‘I love you, cyar'ika.’ He quietly murmured again. ‘And I’m sorry.’
‘Stop saying sorry.’ You tearfully smiled, forehead still pressed against his. ‘And I love you too, even if you’re a bit of a dumbass sometimes.’
‘Say it again.’
‘I love you, dumbass.’ You quietly said.
‘Is that now your equivalent to cyar'ika?’
#mandalorian x reader#mandalorian imagine#mando x reader#mando imagine#din djarin x reader#din djarin imagine#mandalorian x you#mando x you#din djarin x you#mandalorian fluff#mandalorian angst#star wars imagines#star wars x you#star wars fanfic#star wars x reader
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𝚂𝚎𝚡 𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚎 (𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐 & 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗) 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍
𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣) × 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎) × 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣)
𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏.
𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐'𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜.
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟻𝙺+
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚅𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚖, 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝), 𝚎𝚡𝚑𝚒𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚖, 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙*𝚜𝚜𝚢 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡 (𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗), 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚎, 𝚅𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚞𝚛! 𝙳𝚘𝚖! 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐 × 𝙳𝚘𝚖! 𝚂𝚊𝚗 × 𝚂𝚞𝚋! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @seacottons @multidreams-and-desires @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @little-precious-baby @galaxteez @deja-vux @brie02 @couchpotatoaniki @rvse-miingi @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
The young female looked at the male in front of her in an appalled manner.
"Umm.....what?" She could not believe the words that just came out of his mouth.
Her boyfriend however didn't seem bothered by her reaction nor did the overly enthusiastic smile on his face brush off.
"How do you feel about helping me make a sex tape?" He repeated his previous request.
The girl raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if perhaps he was still drunk from the previous night in which he and some of the other members decided to act like dumb teens and got wasted in their dorm, resulting in him drunk calling his girlfriend and her coming over to help out the oldest and the tallest member control the other 6 men who were going berserk.
"When did you even get an idea like that?" She questioned him.
"Last night actually."
She threw her hands up and huffed.
"That's it. I'm not letting you anywhere near any alchohol for the next year." She swore to herself.
"Awww Y/N, baby, come on, don't be like that. Hear me out."
Taking one of her arms, he pressed her body against his, both of them still warm given it hadn't been long since they got out of the comfort of the bed. With one hand caressing her lower back and the other running itself through her hair, Hongjoong began to lazily press kiss across her jaw, knowing fully well it was a weakness to get her to give in.
"Think about how pretty you'll look. I'll edit it so you look even more beautiful. It'll be like one of those romantic adult films we watch together, and I know for a fact you like watching the explicit scenes."
Y/N let out a soft and shy giggle at being called out like that. She had often wondered, even out loud, how actors could actually go forth with such erotic scenes. She had to admit she admired their courage for doing them so effortlessly.
"Are you sure it's not something you wanna film to take with you whenever you're oversea? Watch a replay of you fucking me dumb?"
Now it was Hongjoong's turn to blush red. Y/N noticed how he swallowed hard, meaning there was something else.
"Hongjoong..... you were suggesting that you film us having sex...right?"
Hongjoong's eyes began to waver nervously.
"Well um...I was actually thinking more along the lines of....... someone else.....fucking you.." He stammered the last parts out.
"Are you serious?!" Y/N pushed him off her in a horrified manner, her hands fanning her face as she felt herself getting hot all of a sudden.
"Come on. You're acting like it's illegal or something. No one else besides us, and I guess the third person, will know about it." He tried to convince her.
"It's not illegal but it is insane. Who did you even think would agree to something like this?" She crossed her arms, waiting to hear what brilliant idea he came up with.
"I was hoping one of the guys would be a willing-"
"No way! That'd be even more embarrassing! It already gets awkward whenever one of them accidentally walks around with no shirt on around me, how could I possibly look at them in the face after we fuck?"
Not willing to listen to her crazy boyfriend, Y/N picked up her bag and reminded him to drink lots of water before sauntering out of his room, waving goodbye to Seonghwa who was in the kitchen and leaving before Hongjoong made things more embarrassing for her. Slumping down on the kitchen table, Hongjoong had a huge pout on his face.
"Lover's quarrels?" His same age friend asked as he began rinsing the dishes.
"Something like that." Hongjoong sighed.
"Whatever it is, I'm sure you two will figure it out. One of you ends up giving in sooner or later." He assured him.
Seonghwa was indeed right. Even if either one of you said no at first, you'd always, always, end up giving in just to try something new. That thought made Hongjoong lighten up and he began to think more about how to put his plan in motion. Firstly, he needed to pick one of the members who not only would be comfortable doing something like that, but would match the needed sex appeal.
"Jongho is out of the question. He's never even dated anyone." Hongjoong began thinking, evaluating in his head all his possible candidates.
"Mingi isn't a good choice either, he already has a lot to deal with so I'm not even going to bother with him."
Hongjoong then thought about Yeosang. He was good looking, but the problem was Yeosang was extremely reserved, not to mention he and Y/N weren't very close to each other. It would be bad chemistry. And his roommate and best friend Wooyoung was a strict no.
"I already know that little brat has a little crush on my girlfriend. If anything letting him fuck her would be like giving a little kid a candy shop all to themselves. I need someone who has absolutely no romantic inclinations so afterwards everything can go back to normal."
Turning his head, Hongjoong scanned Seonghwa up and down. He seemed like a possible choice. He was tall, very handsome, he and Y/N got along very well, in fact he was the one closest to her besides him. He knew for a fact Seonghwa was not innocent or pure in the slightest bit. And he'd be very professional about it. It seemed there was no question about Seonghwa being the best candidate.
"Wait! But they're close. What if this plan backfires and I accidentally ruin their friendship?"
Hongjoong groaned as he realized this was proving to be a lot harder than he thought. His mind then thought about Yunho. Yunho would be perfect in the more erotic sense given his size. He was tall, lean but well built and with defined muscles. And it'd be pretty interesting to watch and see if his girlfriend would be able to take a monster cock like that cause Yunho was definitely packing a lot.
Getting up, Hongjoong seemed decided as he walked down the hallway to have a little chat with his favorite donsaeng. Just before he could knock on the door to his room, it actually opened by itself, or more like, someone else came out right at that moment. It was none other than San, whose recently dyed blonde hair was messy. His skin had somewhat of a glow to it even if he was suffering from a major hangover. He was completely shirtless, his honey abs looking amazing as usual. The sweatpants he was wearing were hanging low on him, the V line near his pelvis poking out. And to top off the visual, his nipples were sticking out due to the piercings that he had recently gotten, a naughty secret that he had kept well hidden for a while til Wooyoung ratted him out. Hongjoong had never actually seen them, but now that he did, a light bulb went off in his head.
"Hyung.....my head is killing me." San groaned loudly, one arm weakly holding him steady against the doorframe.
That tiny sound that came out of the younger male's mouth sealed the deal for Hongjoong. San was absolutely perfect.
"Sannie....... when you're feeling better, Hyung wants to talk to you about something."
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
"You're looking especially lovely tonight my dear." Hongjoong looked at his girlfriend who was sitting patiently on her bed, wearing a cute off white two piece lingerie set.
"You always say things like that whenever I'm going to suck your dick." She pointed out, although it wasn't meant to be ill intended.
Hongjoong simply continued to have that suspicious smirk plastered on as he finished setting up the last camera, having placed several ones on different parts of the room to capture different angles of the scene that was about to take place in those 4 walls. On a small stand, he had already installed his laptop so he could monitor more closely all the shots being taken and to start or pause anything if needed. Glancing at the time, he knew it was only a matter of time before their guest arrived.
"You're taking awfully long for someone who was aching to get their dick wet." She snorted, wondering how on earth could Hongjoong be so calm and collected.
Hearing a knock on the door, Y/N raised an eyebrow as she was not expecting anyone, but it seemed Hongjoong wasn't fazed at all. He actually sprinted out of his seat in lighting speed to open the door.
"Yeah but it's not my dick that's getting wet." He sent her a wink.
Before she could even ask him what he meant, San was already being dragged inside the room. He too looked puzzled when he saw his older friend's girlfriend on the bed wearing something so daring.
"Wow! Ok! I take it I got here too early?" San asked as he covered up his face with his hands.
"No San, you're not early. You're right on time actually."
Slumping an arm around him, Hongjoong pulled him into the center of the room.
"He's the one getting his dick wet."
Once she realized what was happening, Y/N grabbed a pillow and chucked it at her scheming boyfriend.
"Kim Hongjoong! You liar! You told me that we were going to be filming a sex tape between ourselves!" She exclaimed.
"A what?!" A confused San shouted, now more embarrased than ever.
"I knew that if I told you both what I really wanted you here for neither of you would agree and would probably think I'm weird or something." Hongjoong tried to explain himself.
"Oh I don't think, I know you're weird, wanting one of your members and your girlfriend to fuck each other just so you could make a porn out of it."
San reddened furiously at her words, eyes looking everywhere but at Hongjoong or Y/N. By now he had already opted for just staying quiet as he listened to the couple banter back and forth amongst themselves.
"What made you think San, out of all people, would want to even touch me?"
That caught said man's attention.
"Wait, hold on. What's that supposed to mean?" He squinted at her, eyes narrowing into slits. Y/N could feel the immediate change in his demeanor.
"Well you know just that.....it's you we're talking about San. Do you know how many girls thirst over you? Why would you even bother looking at someone like me when you look like that?" She gestured at his body and face, trying to get her point across.
San felt somewhat offended by her statement. She made it out to be like he was superficial or that he only cared about looks. Moreover, he didn't like hearing her talk about herself in that way. Brushing past his Hyung, San came to stand in front Y/N, eyes peering down at her. Feeling the intensity of his stare bear down on her, especially given her state of near undress contrasting his full dressed self made her feel self conscious. When she tried to cross her arms to cover herself, San was having none of that as he suddenly gripped her wrists and held them in front of her face.
"And do you have any idea how many of us have checked you out even though we know that you belong to Hongjoong? Do you think some of us didn't feel bad when we found out he decided to take you for himself?"
His admittance not only shocked her but her boyfriend behind them, who had thought only one member had been disappointed when they announced that they were dating. Noticing her shocked expression, San leaned in and smiled at her innocently.
"Don't worry too much about me though, I was mostly disappointed at the fact that I might never get a chance to tap that cute ass of yours." He expressed with no hint of shame whatsoever. San drew his gaze down to fully look at her, admire her silhouette for the first time ever since he walked in the room.
"But now that I know Hyung wants someone to fuck his girlfriend...well.... it'd be my pleasure." He let out a low chuckle before pulling her against him, hands caressing the sides of her torso. Taking one of her hands, he brought it up to his face to place kisses on her palm. Turning to the man that was forgotten for a minute, San raised an eyebrow.
"Tell me right now if there's anything you definitely don't want me to do, otherwise I'm going to have my way with her as I like."
Hongjoong thought about it for a second, wondering if there was something he did not want.
"You're absolutely not allowed to leave hickeys on her. I don't mind you leaving red hand prints or even cumming inside her since that can be cleaned up or will fade in a coupe's hours."
Moving back to go sit on the chair next to the laptop, Hongjoong leaned back and stared at San with a warning glare.
"But I want absolutely nothing that will last for days. That's only for me to do."
San scoffed at how silly Hongjoong sounded, but nodded nonetheless. Meanwhile Y/N looked back and forth at their exchange with fascination. It was arousing hearing them talk about her as if she was nothing more than a mere sex object, and she was loving it.
"Oh and San? Remember I'm going to film this. Try to make it as interested as possible. I mean... if you can that is." Hongjoong smiled slyly, sending challenge to the younger member.
"Oh trust me. I'll fuck her like she's famous." San bragged.
Y/N watched as San began pulling his shirt over his head. Raking her eyes over his arms, abs and chest, they widened considerably when they saw the metal piercings on his nipples. One hand actually came to clasp around her open mouth, she was that surprised.
"Remember I told you not to baby him too much cause he's not actually a baby?" Hongjoong snickered at her reaction, actually finding it funny.
"Hey if it diverts attention from you, I don't care."
Pushing her back until they were right next to the bed, San cupped her face and leaned in, lips nearly kissing hers.
"Are you all right with this?" He wanted to get her consent before anything else.
Letting out a hum, Y/N wrapped her hands on the base of his neck.
"Fuck me like I'm famous." She repeated what he said before.
"Ok."
As soon as their bodies and mouths connected, Hongjoong's finger pressed record so as to not miss anything. Sitting back, he decided to enjoy the show, a satisfied smile on his face after seeing that everything had gone according to plan. Their lips molded perfectly against each other's, their makeout session rivaling those of some of the biggest and steamy ones they'd see on tv. Tracing the outline of his lips with her tongue, Y/N successfully managed to get San to allow her access into his mouth. Her tongue settled against his and vice versa, muffled humming adding to the intensity of their kiss. San couldn't keep his hands off her lower back, eventually placing them right on her ass. Hongjoong inwardly patted himself on the back as he had deduced before that San was more of an ass man and now he was getting confirmation of it as he watched his hands cup and harshly squeeze his girlfriend's cheeks.
Not wanting only him to have his fun, Y/N thought it would be a good idea to test just how sensitive his nipples were. Sliding a hand up his torso, it pressed itself onto one of his pecs. She grinned when San emitted a whimper in her mouth when she pinched on his nipple, making sure to twist some of the piercing around.
"Oh my-" San groaned when her mouth detached itself from his in order to give attention to his nipples. He was whining and whimpering each time her tongue flicked around his buds and letting out choked gasps when her teeth would softly tug at them.
"Enjoying your new toy?" Hongjoong piped up, reminding them both that they were being watched.
"Just as much as you're enjoying me wreck your girl." San spat back at him, hissing when he suddenly felt Y/N sucked onto one of his nipples.
"Please. I've barely seen any action yet."
Hearing his taunting words, San pushed Y/N onto her knees, bringing her face close to the tent in his pants. Tilting her chin up, he rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip.
"You have really pretty lips. All plump and pink.... I wonder how they'll look like if they're red, swollen and stuffed with my cock."
Making a quick work of his zipper, San pulled his jeans down along with his underwear, letting out his cock that was thick and well above average in length. Y/N licked her lips when she saw that the tip was glistening with precum that had dripped out when it was freed from its confinement. San was definitely bigger than Hongjoong, she wasn't going to deny that. She began to wonder if she could even fit that entire thing in her mouth, but she for sure wanted to try.
"I think the little cockslut is eager to suck you off San." Hongjoong sat up straighter in his seat, eyes focused on every detail in front of him.
"Is that right?"
Y/N exhaled softly when she felt San slap his cock against her cheek, running the tip on her cupid's bow.
"Go ahead. Just try and see if you can take me." He shot her a cocky grin.
Wanting to wipe that grin off his face, Y/N inserted the tip inside her mouth, keeping eye contact with San the entire time. She first tested the waters by slurping his head, indeed getting a reaction out of him since his thighs involuntarily shuddered. Feeling motivated, she slowly took more of him into her mouth, inch by inch he was slowly stuffing her full. Her cheeks hollowed out to help her fit him better, but still she gagged slightly when she felt him hit the back of her throat. Nevertheless she was proud of herself at being able to stuff his cock in her.
"Holy crap Y/N, are you trying to prove something?" Hongjoong stared in shock and arousal at seeing his significant other with another man's cock down her throat.
"Yeah, prove that she likes my cock better than yours." San gloated as he pulled her off his length only to stuff it back in and causing the female under him to let out a choked out gasp followed by a line of drool spilling onto the floor.
Grabbing her hair and pulling it up into a makeshift ponytail, San used it to keep her head up as he began a pattern of pulling out slowly only to force himself back inside her. He loved watching the messy scene in between his legs. Spit running down Y/N's chin, the corners of her eyes stained with tears, her muffled whines that were muted every time his shaft filled her mouth, the way his leader was sitting just a few feet away watching as his precious girlfriend was getting face fucked by someone else, San was enjoying it too much. His head was thrown back as he kept forcing his cock deep in her mouth, the loud slurping sounds of her swallowing around him complimenting the hisses and groans that were being exuded from his lips.
"Fuck! Oh my- are you ok with me cumming in your mouth?"
Judging by the way Y/N moaned around his organ and her hand cupped his balls to fondle them, San was taking that as a green light. Releasing her hair, he held onto the back of her head and pushed himself forcefully to and fro in her wet cavern, using it as leverage to help him reach his climax. Through shattered breath and clenched teeth, San's cum poured down her throat, hips stuttering and bucking further up to help him ride out his orgasm. When he pulled out, Y/N immediately gasped for air, her hair in complete disarray, lips darkened and wet with saliva.
"If that isn't one of the hottest images I've ever seen." Hongjoong added his input. He always did love seeing what a mess Y/N turned into after getting her pretty and delicate face fucked and abused.
Y/N smiled over at her boyfriend, looking at the tent in his pants before sending him a flirty wink accompanied by a swipe of tongue across her lips.
"You can suck him off after I'm done with you baby, but right now, I want you focused on me." San made her turn her attention back to him as he lifted her off the floor and set her on the edge of the bed. He showed no hesitation as he practically ripped her underwear off her body before tossing it behind him, making sure it landed on Hongjoong's lap.
"Jerk yourself off with that in the meantime cause you're not getting her back for a while."
Toying with the fabric in his hand, Hongjoong sneered at the younger male.
"Trust me, I have more self control than you'd think." He assured him.
"Let's see about that."
Getting down on his knees to be at eye level with her wet and shining folds, San dived in and began consuming her taste. His tongue moved languidly around her slit, savoring her taste on his tongue. Y/N's hands gripped and clutched the blanket underneath her, causing it to wrinkle up from how hard she was tugging at them. Her breath hitched whenever San gave all of his attention to her clit, sucking on the sensitive flesh until it began developing a slightly reddish tint. Her lips were also becoming engorged as San continued his assault on her mound, face practically buried inside her thighs. All throughout it, Hongjoong just took in every sharp intake of breath and every scrunched up expression Y/N made. It gave him joy to know she was definitely enjoying herself, her pleasure always been something he took into consideration.
"Good to see you know how to eat a girl out Sannie. I was afraid I was going to have to step in and show you why rapper are superior." He couldn't help himself but boast, after all, he had pride in being able to get a girl to cum multiple times with just his tongue.
Ignoring the older man's words, San gripped her thighs to hold her down. His tongue sped up as it slurped and slithered all over her heat, applying just enough pressure with his broad strokes across her labia folds. The girl on top of him tried to move his face away from her body as she felt the blood rushing down to her legs, face becoming heated as she knew she would burst any moment. She blamed Hongjoong for this, having spoiled and played around so much with her pussy that she was overly sensitive whenever she received oral sex. The fire pooling in her lower abdomen was about to explode.
"Ah! San- please!"
Muscles tightening and her upper body writhing, Y/N couldn't hold back as she began pumping out her orgasmic juices, her back falling back on the mattress while her mind blocked out anything that wasn't the immense feeling that was taking over her senses at the moment. San lapped up her juices generously, feeling smug about getting her to cum, although he knew it wouldn't be the only time she would be doing that. Sitting up, he allowed her to catch her breath and regain her senses before he continued with what he had in store.
Hongjoong looked with curiosity as San made Y/N sit back up and turned her over on all fours. Hongjoong couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips.
"You're gonna fuck her doggy style? Can't you be more creative?"
San didn't let his words deter him, he simply unclipped Y/N's bra and removed it from her body.
"I told you I was gonna fuck her like she's famous and that's exactly what I'm going to do."
His hands roamed across her body, caressing the curves and dips of her hips as he pressed his erection in between her ass cheeks. Y/N pushed her ass further back, impatient at the thought of having her hole filled up by him.
"See? Even she wants to be fucked like a little bitch in heat."
Y/N couldn't suppress the moan escaping her lips at being degraded like that.
"Wow, you're such a whore." Hongjoong mused when he heard her reaction.
"You offered this whore to your friend now suck it up and watch him pound my pussy." She giggled softly.
"Oh baby, I'm not just going to pound this pussy. I'm aiming to destroy it."
Lining himself against her hole, San slowly sunk his length deep into her walls. He felt as if he was being swallowed by her warmth that it took everything in him not to start fucking her right then. He made sure to give her time to adjust to his size.
"Hyung do you not fuck her enough? She's unbelievably tight and she feels too good." San grunted, dick twitching inside her as it ached for any sort of movement.
Hongjoong did not hide his displeased face.
"I fuck her quite often thank you very much."
San clicked his tongue in a cocky way.
"Whatever you say."
Y/N cried out in a high pitched tone when San suddenly pulled out only to plunge himself back into her. He set a merciless rhythm as his cock tore her walls open, stretching them as far as they could go, a stinging yet delicious burn heating her up. Strangled noises proceeded to spill forward from her throat mixing in perfectly with the sound of their skin smacking against each other. Shifting angles so his dick could hit against her g-spot every time it was shoved inside her, San's skin was already emitting that after sex glow, sweat beads forming on his temples. He looked completely focused, eyes trained on her ass cheeks that bounced with each of his thrusts. Unable to resist the urge, he brought one hand up so it could slap her skin.
"Oh s-shit!" She exclaimed, the force and unexpected smack on her bum nearly had her upper body collapsing on the bed.
"Can you smack her a little harder?" If Y/N wasn't so caught up with San fucking her so harshly, she would have noted the nearly sadistic tone in her boyfriend's voice.
"Just tell me if I can't take it baby." San caressed the patch of skin he had just slapped.
"Trust me, she can. She enjoys a little pain every now and then." Her boyfriend dished on that dirty little secret.
One slap was soon followed by several more. San made sure to alternate between each of her butt cheeks. Y/N's wailing began to get increasingly louder and frantic, her ass stinging every time San's hand smacked it, making a majority of it turn a deep red color. But he made sure that it wouldn't leave any bruising or anything of that sort remembering Hongjoong's previous rule.
"Damn you're so fucking loud."
The shocked gasp coming out her mouth was half muffled when San pushed her head against one of the pillows, effectively burying her loud mouth into the sheets.
"San didn't you said you'd fuck her like she's famous? Then why cover up her screaming?" Hongjoong pondered, one hand rubbing at the top of his thigh.
"Scream? You wanna really hear her scream?"
Yanking her back up from her hair, Y/N only managed to catch her breath for one second before she felt herself flipped onto her back. The intrusion of San's large cock was just as seering as the first one but it was welcomed nonetheless by her walls fluttering around his cock. One of her legs was thrown over his shoulder, his brutal pace heightening the build up in her stomach. Her fleshy mound was extremely swollen and had a pinkish red tint to it. Knowing how vulnerable she was, San licked his fingers before taking them out of his mouth only to have them come down on her clit.
"Oh-oh fuck!" Y/N threw her head back on the pillow, eyes shut tight with tears staining the corners of them as she felt slap after slap on her throbbing and pulsating pussy.
"You like that you little whore? Yes you do, you clench around me every time I do this." San smirked when he placed one final blow on her tender flesh that was responsive to any of his touches.
Y/N was starting to see white flashes of light in her vision, unable to hear or feel anything that wasn't the grazing inside her wetness. With whimpered crying, her arms and upper body writhed uncontrollably as San's hips continued jolting up into her, shaky breaths and pants keeping her from forming any coherent words as her juices poured out of her body. Feeling her heat cover him completely, San trailed not far behind her as his cock twitched and his seed painted her insides.
"Ah fuck!"
He jerked himself until he made sure to fill her to the brim, not satisfied until he had spurted out the last drop of cum he had in him to release. When he pulled out of her hole, he let out a groan of accomplishment as the white and milky like secretion seeped out of her hole, some of it glistening against her folds.
"You capturing that well Hyung?" San turned to Hongjoong.
"Oh trust me, it's all coming out beautifully." He answered as he looked at the computer screen, fingers working unbelievably quick to make sure to save the raw video in his files.
Getting up to go clean himself up on the bathroom, San picked up his clothes that were discarded on the floor. Before he could walk out the door, he was about to ask Y/N if she wanted to join him but she was already busying herself by kneeling in front of her boyfriend.
"Aren't you going to get cleaned up?"
Humming softly as she began undoing Hongjoong's belt, Y/N replied with a mischievous smile.
"Maybe later. Right now I gotta take care of my handsome man, after all, he's been sitting here with a hard ass boner." She chuckled as his dick sprang free.
"God, I love you so much baby."
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Yexercise
This was the vote story immediately after Movie Night. Note: image has all three members from the beginning, but it ended up being all Yeri.
Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, Yeri, male reader insert, blowjob, titfucking, anal, va--nilla sex, workout sex, exhaustion, kink talk, appearances from Wendy/Seulgi/Irene but JoY hAs A bOyFrIeNd
~~~~~
"Hey, thanks. You don't need to give me the discount though," you say. You put your wallet back in your pocket, pick up the bag of muffins, and take the coffee from the guy across the counter.
"Nonsense! The Lounge wouldn't be so successful without your help. Besides, the profit margin on that stuff is insane."
The two of you chuckle with each other for a moment, and you smell the coffee he practically gave you free. Fresh roasted and ground on location, not too much sugar, and slightly more cream than usual. "Damn, man. This stuff smells like heaven."
"Heaven? Haha! More like Brazil! But speaking of heaven, who's the lucky lady today? You never get more than one muffin on your own."
You shrug. The man knows you, that's for sure. "Well, not a date this time. Wendy asked me to meet her here,"
"Oh, Red Velvet?"
"Yup. I think it's a business thing. I was asking her about song composing but I'm not supposed to tell you she's getting into that."
"Of course." He raises his eyebrows and flattens his mouth. "You know how Mr. SM can be about these things."
That's exactly what SinB and Eunha said and did a couple days ago, and nobody ever explained what they meant. "Actually, I--"
"Ah, there she is! And Seulgi and Yeri too!"
You turn around to see that he is definitely correct. Holding the door open is Wendy, dressed in a blue-and-white-striped sweater that sags off one of her shoulders, baggy blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her light brown hair is draped over one shoulder. Her casual outfit is contrasted by her exceptional, yet minimal make up.
Yeri has already passed her and entered the building. Unlike Wendy, her make up consists of some lazy eyeliner and not much else. Your heart skips a beat when you see her light gray yoga pants are as tight as a second skin, though her pink hoodie hangs just low enough to see any of her ass. She's cut her hair into a short bob again, and dyed it dirty blonde.
Seulgi follows Yeri, and certainly looks the most put-together overall. Her jet black hair is pulled into a ponytail so you can see her glamorous earrings and bright red lips. She's wearing a nearly wrinkleless white dress shirt barely see through enough to show her bra, black business pants, and short black heels.
A shiver crashes down your spine, nearly making you drop your coffee. You're not sure you'll ever get used to seeing all these gorgeous idols in person, and especially not when they're approaching you.
"Hey, sorry we're late," Wendy opens the conversation, "We got held up for a minute."
Yeri smirks. It looks like she's paying more attention to the menu overhead than to any one person. "Held up by some Canadian grandma driving."
Wendy frowns. "It's called a speed limit."
Seulgi gives you a short bow. You do the same back. Finally, a regular greeting. Then again, it makes sense since she's the one you've spent the least amount of time with. That's not saying much though, since you haven't had much opportunity to get to know any member of Red Velvet. "Good to see you again," she says formally.
"Oh shut up Sluggo, you know why we're here." Yeri points up at the menu. "I'll take the mocha--"
"What she means is... Well, can we talk?" Wendy asks, looking more than a little flustered.
"Yeah, totally. I got some muffins for us to share, but I thought it was just going to be the two of--"
"Fuck yeah, bro! Thanks!" Yeri snatches the muffin bag out of your hand and has one halfway in her mouth before you can protest.
Wendy sighs. "Let's sit down, shall we?"
Getting a table with room for four is a simple matter. Seulgi sits opposite from you, Yeri next to her, and Wendy next to you.
Yeri's busy eating both of the muffins you bought, which may be the only reason Wendy is able to finish her thoughts. "So, we don't have a whole lot of time. We're actually-- well, two of us are going to a gig in like fifteen minutes, but you know we're really busy. I mean, of course, you know us, and we've got a thing in fifteen-- Ugh. I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this. How's your day been?"
Normally in all of your previous conversations, short as they have been, you've noticed that Wendy is generally much more confident than this. "Um, pretty good. It's still early though. Just got here myself, so I haven't had time to do much today."
"Oh geez, that's right. I'm sorry, the last few weeks have really just been blending together, you know? So like, you know Yerin right? I mean, of course you know Yerin. So Yerin has been talking to Joy, and you've been brought up in that, and so we know a little bit about you."
You chuckle and scratch the back of your neck. "Ah, crap. If Yerin's been talking about me, I can only imagine the kinds of things she's said." Obviously, your history with Yerin and her perverted attitude can mean one thing.
Seulgi blushes. "Y-yeah. Is it okay that we're talking to you about this?"
"I mean, we haven't really talked about anything specific yet."
"They mean sex." Yeri blurts out, slightly muffled by muffin.
You laugh. Thinking back on Wendy's texts and her vague word choices, you figured she had a serious question for you, but you still can't figure out what it is she wanted to talk to you about. It's a little awkward that she brought two of her group members with her if she's looking for advice, too. "I kind of figured that's what it was about. But hell yeah, I'm an open book. What's on your mind?"
Wendy lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh my gosh, thank you. I thought I was going to die from my own awkwardness there."
She pauses as a barista walks over with Yeri's drink. You make note of the way, out of the corner of her eye, Yeri watches the barista's ass as she walks away.
Wendy continues with a bright smile that you're a little more used to seeing, "So uh, the three of us are currently looking for something, and wanted to know what your rates are."
You hesitate, piecing together what Wendy just said with the fact that the conversation has been defined as one about sex. "Has Yerin been... saying I'm a prostitute?"
Suddenly, it feels like you're in a pressure cooker. Silence grips the table as the tension rises. Wendy stares at you like a deer in the headlights, her eyes widening slowly and her smile fading.
The sound of the steamer behind the store's counter sets off a chain reaction of noise.
"OH MY GOD," Wendy shouts, "I AM SO SORRY!"
Yeri slaps the table and bursts into laughter, sending crumbs of muffin everywhere. Seulgi is glowing red, shaking all over, and looking frantically between you, Wendy, and the mess Yeri is making.
"I DIDN'T MEAN-- OH GOD--" Wendy grabs your arm with both hands, crushing down as if she's afraid you're about to leave. She lowers her voice to a hushed tone, but speaks at the speed of a runaway train, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean anything by it I supp-- We all support the sex work industry and I'm sorry I didn't me--"
The other two have effectively disappeared. Seulgi, with her arms covering her face and crouched low in her chair. Yeri has fallen to the floor, truly making the scene worse with how hard she's laughing and gasping for air.
For as mildly insulted as you feel, you aren't very surprised, considering Yerin's habit of using insults and crude words as terms of endearment. You smirk and put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. You try to calm her down, but are slightly afraid she won't hear you through her rambling, "Hey, hey. You're good. I'm not a prostitute, but it's fine."
Wendy slows down, but appears to be on the verge of hyperventilation. "I can't believe this. I shouldn't have assumed. Oh god. I am such a dumbass."
You get out of your chair and wrap your arms around her. She immediately shuts up, face melting into your chest. "You're good, Wendy. Honestly, that's hilarious more than anything."
Yeri is calming down a little as well, with the aid of Seulgi furiously brushing away the streaks of black makeup running off of her eyes. Even so, she can barely manage to get back into her chair, still having giggle fits and clutching at her stomach.
"I might not be one, but I think I can help you out anyway. What exactly are you looking for?" You let go of Wendy and watch her dab at a few tears that started with a napkin.
"No, no. I don't think I can say after all that. I am... so embarrassed right now."
Still fighting to catch her breath, Yeri chimes in, "We're too busy to find dick so she tried to find a way to schedule it. Holy shit, 'Sup? How's your day? How much do you charge for a good time, ho?' Right? Wow, Wendy."
"Yeri! That's not what she said!" Seulgi slaps at Yeri's arm and nervously looks around for anyone who might still be watching.
"Might as well have been! This is the best!"
You can't help but chuckle along with Yeri. You stare in her direction, hoping to get her attention with your next sentence, "You don't have to pay to fuck me."
That shuts Yeri up. She stares back. "Woah, you serious?"
You sit back down and glance at Wendy and Seulgi. They're staring too.
"Yeah, why not? Sounds like fun. Hell, I'd go for it right now, but you've got a gig to get to, right?"
Seulgi shakily raises a hand as if she's asking permission to speak. "O-only two of us are going to that."
Underneath the table, you feel someone's foot sliding up and down your leg. You have no doubt it's Yeri's, as she speaks up again, "Why don't you guess which one of us isn't busy today?"
Yeah. Why don't you?
Options for Part 1 [IMPORTANT (duh)]:
1. (Picked:) Is it Yeri? It seems too obvious, given how eager she obviously is. But she could be straight up trolling you. That seems like something she'd do. If it's her, you imagine you'll end up exhausted soon. She seems to have a LOT of energy to burn.
2. Is it Wendy? She's the one who organized this meetup after all. Maybe she'll ask you to come along as she drops the other members off at their gig. If she's the one, you can guess you'll have a very nice, sweet time. She's got those wifey vibes.
3. Is it Seulgi? She's been very quiet this whole time. She definitely took the time to dress to impress today. Maybe it's you she means to impress. If you're spending the day with her, you have no clue what to expect. You've got to watch out for the quiet ones...
~~~~~
You look underneath the table and see it is, in fact, Yeri who is stroking your leg with her foot. Her running shoes aren't exactly making it comfortable or sexy.
"I'm going to guess it's you."
"Sure is, babe." Yeri winks. Wendy and Seulgi both groan in unison. Yeri doesn't seem to mind them at all.
"So," Wendy says slowly, "you really meant that about having sex with us? I don't want to pressure you."
You look across the table and see Seulgi biting her lip, not in an intentionally sexy way, but maybe nervously?
"Yup. I'm not free literally all the time, so we might have to actually schedule it, which definitely feels weird, but I'm up for it."
Wendy grins. "Awesome! Thanks! Thanks? Thanks."
"But hey, to be totally clear, why me? You guys know you can have sex with each other, right?"
Seulgi pops in, "We have. It's just... we all want different things that others aren't comfortable with."
"Yeah, getting fucked softly by strapons is boooring," Yeri says. She glares at Wendy.
"H-hey! You know my hip--"
You're about to ask what they all want to do that's so radically different, or why they assume you're okay with all of it, but Wendy's phone alarm goes off.
"Crap. So, can we talk about this later? We have to get to our shoot."
"Totally, sure. Text me when you're off?"
Wendy and Seulgi are already starting to walk away. Yeri has made herself quite comfortable where she is though.
"I'll text you, yeah! Um, are you okay with babysitting that one for a bit?"
Yeri scrunches up her nose. "The fuck, bitch?!"
You laugh. "Yeah, why not?"
Wendy smiles and rushes out the door. Seulgi follows, but only after giving you a polite bow. "See you again soon!"
The busy life of a big three idol, you muse to yourself.
"Hmmm, seems we've got some time to kill, huh?" Yeri leans forward on the table, squeezing her tits through her bulky sweatshirt.
"Guess we do. I have one formal request to have sex with you and another to babysit you. Bit unusual."
Yeri groans. "Yeah fuck that. You realize I'm well into my twenties right? I want your cock, not a bedtime story."
You decide against telling her about the stories you swapped with SinB just a couple nights ago. "Couldn't put you to bed if I wanted to with that extra large mocha you've got there," you say instead.
“You could put me in a bed.”
“Snappy one. I like it.”
Yeri smirks and takes a sip of her coffee. “I don’t mean right now though. I’ve got something in mind already.”
“You mean what you were going to pay me to do?”
“Sure was, ho. Why? You still want the money?”
You sigh. “Well I’m really not in the business. So if you really want to spend something on me, maybe get me some breakfast? You ate mine.”
“You can eat me.”
After you give her a brief, unamused look, she relents. “Okay. Okay. What do you want? You can eat it on the way.”
“I see you like to make assumptions. And I’ll take a smoked salmon bagel.”
“I’m used to my assumptions being met. And I didn’t know they made those here.”
“Do you assume you’re going to get your way today? And they’re delicious.”
“Maybe I do assume that. I guess we’ll see. And I’ll have one too.”
Yeri hops off of her seat and goes back to the counter to put in your order. Thanks to the lack of a line or crowd, the bagels are ready by the time you’ve followed her. You open the bag.
“Four? Feeling hungry this morning?”
“Oh I’m starving for dick, but only one of those is for me. The others are for you. You’ll need the energy.”
“Question.” You stop, The Lounge’s front door half open in your hand. “Do you always speak so boldly and then follow it up immediately with something vague?”
She smirks and you watch as one of her hands slides around your waist and traces your butt before giving it a tight squeeze. She reaches past you with her other hand and pulls the door open the rest of the way so she can step outside, slowly twirling around you. “No,” she says, “Sometimes, I don’t speak.”
Smooth, you think.
The walk to wherever Yeri is taking you is a pleasant one. She takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She walks in sync with you. She makes easy conversation about work, food, and ideal local vacation spots. She nibbles on her bagel slowly enough that she finishes right about when you finish all three of yours. You almost forget that less than an hour ago she was making lewd comments about hiring you for sex, and that she is currently taking you to a location where she intends to fuck you.
It’s not long before you reach a building that she pulls you into, swiping a key card to open the door. The inside isn’t particularly remarkable, and you don’t see any signs anywhere that would reveal the building’s purpose. Three flights of stairs going up and one more key card swipe through a door, and you find yourself in a small gym.
One wall is effectively a single giant mirror like a dance studio would have, and there’s a variety of equipment you recognize as being for pilates as well as weight training and a treadmill. The floor is ever so slightly spongy-soft, it’s well lit when she flips on the lights, there’s a large potted fern in one corner with a small stereo next to it, and it’s otherwise undecorated. It smells like sweat.
“Personal, private gym?” you ask.
“Personal, private gym,” Yeri says. She drops her purse and kicks off her shoes next to the door, motioning for you to do the same.
“Not that I’m complaining, but couldn’t we have used a room at The Lounge, or your place, or mine?”
“Maybe. But I’m comfortable here. And there aren’t any company bitches here to get on my case for getting our freak on.”
Yeri walks into the middle of the room and pulls her hoodie over her head. It turns out she was only wearing a purple sports bra underneath.
Although she is still fully dressed as far as modern societal standards are concerned, you find yourself staring at her incredibly sexy body as if it’s totally exposed. Her leggings are exactly as skin-tight as you were hoping, practically revealing her firm ass. If she’s even wearing anything underneath them, you can’t tell. But as she lifts her arms above her head to toss her hoodie behind her and to stretch, it’s her mostly bare back and the toned muscle running up and down either side of her spine that catches you off guard. You can’t take your eyes away. She looks at you in the mirror and catches you staring.
“I’m glad you like,” she says, putting one finger between her teeth in the corner of her mouth and giving you a sultry look you didn’t think she was capable of. She twists to look at you over her shoulder. “Your turn.”
You remove your jacket and pull your shirt off. While it’s over your eyes, you hear padding footsteps coming your way, followed by a body being pressed up against yours. By the time your shirt is totally off, her hands are sliding up your back. This is one seriously forward idol you’re dealing with.
“So here we are. I picked the location. What’s next?” Yeri asks, “I’ve got a naughty thought or two, but maybe you have an idea you want to surprise me with.”
Options for Part 2:
1. No surprise, nothing fancy. Just get naked and get started.
2. There must be a shower in this building if it contains gyms. Ask her to take you there and you can get her wet all over.
3. (Picked:) Yeri was literally going to hire you for this, and “naughty thoughts” sound fun. Ask her what those are all about.
~~~~~
“Naughty thoughts huh? Why don’t you tell me about those?”
Yeri grimaces and looks off to the side. “Uh...”
“Uh…” You look down at her, confused. “What? What.”
“I was, you know.”
You hesitate…
“No! I don’t know! What?!”
“Like, I was expecting you to just rip off my bra or pants and go to town, you know?”
“But you said you have naughty thoughts. Why wouldn’t I ask about those?”
“I don’t know! I was counting on you not asking about them!”
You rub your eyes. You’re about to ask why she would bother bringing up the option if she was going to make such a big deal out of it, but she speaks first.
“I want to get fucked while I’m working out.”
“That’s it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.
“It’s not all I want to do.”
“Well, care to share with the rest of the class? Or are you too embarrassed about having really normal-sounding kinks?”
Yeri shoves you back and takes a few steps toward the pilates equipment. “Are we doing this or not?”
“I’m all for it.”
She grabs the sides of her bra and with no small amount of difficulty pulls it off over her head. You easily forget about the awkwardness as you watch her breasts squeeze out slowly and eventually drop the rest of the way.
Yeri's breasts live up to the hype. When she beckons you over to her (in the same way you would beckon for a dog, annoyingly), you realize your opportunity to touch them for yourself is at hand. Literally.
You grab her by the shoulders first though, spinning her around so she's facing the pilates bench and the mirror. You wrap your arms under hers to feel her tits from behind. They're more than your hands can take in a single grasp. But you're not in this for speed. You bend down to kiss her neck, which gets a satisfied growl from her.
"Bite me," she says. It's not a softly spoken statement, and it's right next to your ear thanks to your positioning, so you're stunned for about half a second.
You do as she demands, taking a small bit of her neck between your teeth and sucking. If she wants hickeys you won't argue.
You're rewarded with a smack on the top of the head. Confused with her behavior again, you pull away.
"I didn't say nibble. I said bite."
"Oh. Uh, sure."
"Like, draw blood."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah! Like, if you're gonna bite, it's gotta be hard! Really get your canine teeth in there, right? Just fucking give it to me."
You stare at her for a moment. "Let's, um, start with the exercise thing first, yeah?"
Seeming suddenly confident again, Yeri hops onto the pilates bench and flips herself upside-down using the bars. She stretches herself out into a position you imagine can't be easy to hold for long. "Sure, if you can reach me."
You squint at her for just a second. She's switching between embarrassment and confidence so fast you can't figure out what's really going on. But at least right now, she seems fine.
Standing up on the bench, you find you’re at nearly the perfect height to put your face between her legs. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You grab the waistband of her leggings and pull them down to her knees. Underneath, absolutely nothing. No underwear, no hair. Just a completely bare pussy and smooth ass tensed with the effort of holding her body weight in an upward arch.
It’s a tight fit getting your head between her legs, given that she doesn’t have a lot of space to spread them apart. The reward is worth the trouble.
You flatten your tongue against her pussy to give it a full, long lick. She responds with a long, breathy moan. And since she gives you no reason to stop, you do it again, and again, and again. Each time, Yeri shivers just a little bit, making it obvious how much she’s enjoying herself.
Hands on either side of her hips, just touching for the sake of touching and not holding her up, you close your eyes and focus on your work. Not work. You’re not getting paid for this. Stop thinking about that.
She’s got a mellow taste as far as you can tell. It’s got the tang you would expect, but it’s maybe a little musky. You don’t try to distract yourself, but trying to figure out how Yeri tastes the same way men’s cologne smells is really messing with your head.
It’s when her hips suddenly drop away from your hands that you realize she has been holding herself in place for several minutes. She’s breathing heavily and she doesn’t fall only because her leggings are caught on your shoulders. She doesn’t seem seriously exhausted or anything though. Maybe this was just the first rep.
“Tired?” you ask anyway.
“I also want to try pet play.”
You stare down at Yeri. You’re sure you heard the words that came out of her mouth correctly, but they weren’t the answer to your question. “So… hang on. Back up. What?”
“You know. Meow.” Holding herself up with one hand, she uses the other to make the classic neko paw.
You tilt your head and rub your temples. “Alright. Um, I think we should probably work out what’s really happening here. You gave me a lot to work with.”
Yeri hoists her legs back over your head and stands on the bench again, kicking her leggings off the rest of the way. “Yeah! What do you think? Those are my ideas!”
“They are varied.”
“Is that good or bad?” Suddenly Yeri looks embarrassed again.
“No! They’re good! I’m not here to kink shame you. I don’t know if I’m really into all of that, or if they can all be incorporated into a single session, but I’m totally up for some of it.”
Session? This isn’t an appointment, and this isn’t my job! you think, furiously. You’re suddenly worried if every minor reference to work or professionalism is going to sound like it’s connected to sex from now on.
Yeri smirks, “Oh, okay. That’s fair. Anything sounds good! What do you want to do… with me?” She punctuates the last two words by grabbing her tits and winking at you.
Deadline for this vote is 12/20 at 12:00 UTC! No guarantees on how fast Part 4 will come out, but work should slow down soon, and it’s not like I’ll be going anywhere for a holiday because of this virus, so you can probably expect Part 5 and maybe also another short over that weekend!
Options for Part 3:
1. (Picked:) Workout sex sounds like it will wear you out, but getting sweaty with a partner has never been a problem before!
2. Pet play? What was that meow about?! Maybe you want her to play a cat, or you can convince her she'd be something else?
3. Oh fuck, right. Yeri likes vampires. Bite her. [Warning for blood stuff, though not super gory or anything Red Flavor joke]
~~~~~
“Tell me more about this workout sex,” you say. To avoid letting the mood die down any more than your confusion already might have you inch forward, one hand on Yeri’s breast, the other wrapping around the small of her back. You pull her in closer toward you and put your mouth to hers.
Yeri hums into your kiss. She takes a moment to enjoy it before she pulls back. “It’s exactly what it sounds like, like what I said.” She comes in for a couple more small kisses and continues, “I work out. While I do that, you fuck me.”
You bring her back into the kiss, keeping it chaste for now. At least, as chaste as you can get while you’re more than half naked and she’s completely naked and you’re discussing exactly how you’re about to bang.
“I can start over there and bench while I suck your cock.”
You moan your agreement into another kiss.
“Then I can do my squats on it while you take your turn benching.”
You moan your “Huh?” into another kiss.
“Then you can do your squats by pile driving me into the floor.”
So it seems she plans on you working out too.
“So? Are we going to do this?” Yeri holds you back.
You take a deep breath. Whatever higher power you believe in has brought you this far. You’re not going to let it down.
“Why don’t you get down there and find out?”
Yeri practically jumps across the room. She grabs a couple of dumbbells and immediately gets into bench press position.
When you walk over, ditching the rest of your clothes on the way, Yeri looks up at you and smirks. She wiggles the weights around and, in a sing-song voice, says, “Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb.”
You stand above her, unsure how to respond.
“Get it? Dumb Dumb? Dumbbells? The weights?”
“Uh, no?”
“What?! That’s like, a classic!”
“Is that one of yours?”
“Yes! You haven’t heard it?!”
“You just called your own song a classic.”
Yeri rolls her eyes. “Not classic as in old. As in-- I’m about to suck your dick, so laugh at my jokes.”
That makes you actually snort back a laugh. “Okay, I guess I get it now.”
She smiles and hangs her head off the edge of the bench. You make your way next to her head and she licks her lip at the sight of your dick at nearly her eye level.
“Just don’t go too hard okay? I’ve got a gag reflex.”
You crouch just enough so that your dick touches her lips, which she happily opens. The moment her tongue reaches out and touches you, you feel a bit weak in the knees. How you’re going to keep this up and also do real exercise, you have no idea.
Yeri cautiously starts pumping her weights up and down at her sides. You take the same slow pace with moving back and forth. After the mention of her gag reflex you don’t dare thrust for real, keeping it to an inch or so at a time. Yeri more than makes up for the lack of depth with her tongue though, twirling and curling it around randomly.
Thankfully there’s a bar across the bench that you can lean on to prevent a total collapse. Just beneath your head, you watch as Yeri’s chest and arms flex to push the weights up, then relax and spread out as she lowers them. The steady motion, the subtle definition of her body, and her heavy tits are a sight to behold, and so behold it all you do.
Yeri’s tongue sweeps across the bottom of your dick, and you feel a burning desire to be deeper inside of her. You decide to try your luck and push forward a bit farther. She doesn’t so much as lose the tempo in her lifting, so you go farther. Too much more and you’re sure you’re going to hurt her, but her legs are spread to either side of the bench, leaving something else open that you could probably get much deeper in.
You’re suddenly jolted back to awareness by the sound of weights slamming to the floor. Yeri grabs your hips and holds you tightly in place. You think she may have forgotten about the exercise after all with how intensely she’s sucking. But then, she pushes you away and gasps for air.
“That’s one set down!” She grins up at you and strokes your dick.
“Isn’t it bad etiquette to drop your weights like that?”
“Personal, private gym, remember? My gym, my rules.”
“Well not to break your rules, but I want to try something else in your next set.”
“Why? Didn’t you like that?”
“Oh I did, but that’s just the problem. You’ve got me worked up now, and I’m having a hard time holding back.”
Yeri gulps, and you see her whole body shiver. “I-I mean, I’ll try.” She picks her dumbbells off the floor and lays back again, sticking her tongue out and opening her mouth wide.
“I didn’t mean deepthroat! I just meant I wanted to fuck your pussy.”
You aren’t sure if Yeri’s sigh is one of disappointment or relief. “Ah, I see. Well by all means go for it!”
She scoots herself down the bench so her head isn’t hanging off and starts her next set. You walk around her slowly, just taking in the sight, admiring her again. She’s clearly used to the exercise, because her skin is just barely starting to show a few dots of sweat.
Once you’re between her legs, it’s a simple matter to crouch again just a little to maintain the correct height. You couldn’t see it from your previous angle, but Yeri is soaking wet. It’s only been a few minutes really, but already there’s a puddle underneath her. You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for contributing to that.
Yeri’s entrance is tight, but pushing into her is smooth sailing with how much natural lube she’s producing. Every time she lifts her weights, her muscles tense and she subtly clenches down around you. You might have thought this was a weird concept to begin with, but you’re definitely on board now. Not quite in time with her lifts, you thrust in and out. Looking down, you can see her toes curling. She’s clearly putting in a lot of effort not to squirm out of position.
“Seems like you’re having fun, huh?”
You don’t get an answer. You’re slightly annoyed that she seems to be ignoring you, but you realize she’s probably trying to count reps. But it would be fun if you could make her lose track…
You put your hands on either side of the bench and get a good grip, preparing to turn into a fucking machine.
Unfortunately, you’re the one who gets a surprise when Yeri drops her weights again. Her head shoots up to yours for a needy, open-mouthed kiss. Her damp body presses against yours.
“This is...” she says between the moments she has her tongue in your mouth, “so much better… than trying it… with a dildo!”
You try to push Yeri away so you can get a word in, but her arms and legs are both clamped around you. You give in and lower her down so she’s on her back again, putting you right where you need to be so you can roll your hips.
Yeri squeals and her grip on you gets even tighter. “More!” she shouts when she pulls away for a half a second.
You strain to get your hands under her arms and break out of her grasp. Her nails rake across your back quite painfully as you do, but you manage to pin her arms to her sides. She glares up at you, biting her lip and giggling.
“More?” she asks this time.
“Don’t you have one more set to do? Isn’t three sets a thing?”
Yeri scowls. “I changed my mind. It’s your turn to bench. I need to do my squats right now.”
You roll your hips again. You watch, amused, as Yeri’s fingers clench at the air over and over again. You’re a little worried about what might happen when you let her go, considering she seemed to have some kind of blood fetish. But then again, she might just not be trying all that hard to get away. She’s the one with a fairly athletic career and a workout plan after all.
Even so, you can’t help but tease her with another roll of your hips. You have difficulty finding your own words with how good she feels, tight around your cock. “It was your idea to get fucked while you worked out. I’m just holding you to your word, you know.”
A sly smile curls across Yeri’s face, though it trembles when you grind into her again. “I’m keeping my word! I normally only do two sets at a time!”
“I’m not so sure I believe that.” Her legs let up a bit, so you use the leeway to get in a short thrust.
“You calling me a liar?”
“Of course not. Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t call me a liar you get to pick what hole I fuck you with while you’re benching.”
She makes a valid argument.
Deadline for this vote will be 12/26 at 6:00 UTC (just in case some of you will be too busy the day before with holiday stuff)
Options for Part 4:
1. No complaints from you if she continues with her pussy!
2. Then again, you’ve got a thing for anal, and she’s offering.
3. She could give you a blowjob. It seems like she wants the practice.
4. (Picked:) But also… Yeri is the first person in one of these stories with big enough boobs for a titfuck.
~~~~~
“Well since you’re definitely done with your sets, and since you’re not lying, you wouldn’t mind titfucking me?”
A few quiet moments go by. Yeri puts a hand on her chin, looking down between your bodies, then to her boobs, then at the dumbells on either side of her. She reaches down to grab the weights again.
“There’s lube in my bag. Grab that first.”
You smile and pull out of her pussy, which makes both of you take a sharp breath at the same time. “Doing more benches huh?”
“Well obviously. This is workout sex. I can’t give you a tit job while I’m squatting, so the best solution is for me to focus extra hard on my arms - which is definitely more than I normally do - so you can stand over me.”
Her bluff is pretty obvious, but it’s amusing, and you’re still getting what you asked for so you’re not going to push your luck by calling her out. This is something you’ve been trying to convince Yerin to try for a while, but she’s brushed it off every time. So if you aren’t getting a boob job here, you’re not sure when or even if you’ll have the chance again.
The lube you find in Yeri’s bag is vanilla scented. While you take a moment to enjoy the smell, Yeri lies down and starts another set with her six kilo weights.
You move to stand over her chest and enjoy watching her muscles work again from a different angle. This time you watch her breasts in particular, putting a hand down to lightly cup one and brush your thumb over her nipple. Much like before, Yeri’s focus on her workout is uncanny. You can’t get her to break, so you decide to help yourself.
You pour a generous amount of the lube into Yeri’s cleavage, smearing it all over. Your dick is still wet from her pussy, but this stuff will certainly last longer. The pleasant smell and the sight of her wet breasts turn on your instincts again. You lower yourself until your dick is resting on her, and you squeeze her tits together.
It’s not nearly as tight as anything else you’ve experienced today, of course, but it’s no less of an incredible feeling. When you start to move back and forth is when you realize how heavenly it is, even if it involves some extra effort. As you slide through Yeri’s cleavage, you notice the tiniest glance down from her. Is she losing her focus?
You smirk and reposition your hands a bit so you can casually rub her nipples between your fingers. Again, a small glance down. This time, it’s accompanied by the corners of her lips moving up.
“If you’re enjoying this already, wait until your hands are free to help out.”
“Ssshut up.”
Her arms tremble for a second. It would make sense if she’s getting distracted by the fact that she’s working out. But she hasn’t done that much, has she? Six kilos isn’t too crazy for an athletic idol like herself. You take a look over to the side again when her arms come all the way up.
There’s a mostly worn off line right before the six. She’s lifting nearly triple what you thought she was. Suddenly, you find yourself concerned with where they might land if she drops them again, given where your feet are, and you resolve to not distract her anymore.
That doesn’t mean you’re going to stop the titfucking of course.
You shift your feet back a little and have to lean forward, but you manage to get back into rhythm quickly. You slide in time with her lifting. The next time you look at her face, Yeri’s eyes are screwed shut and she’s biting her lip.
You aren’t able to contain a groan, and her eyes snap open and look into yours. She gives you a smile and after one last pump of her weights, she tosses them (thankfully) to the sides. Her hands clasp over the top of yours. Her breaths are labored, but she speaks through them just fine.
“I’m helping now. What am I waiting for?”
You pull one of your hands from under hers. It takes you no time at all to find her clit. Her knees come up to trap your arm there, as if you needed the additional encouragement. You circle it slowly with your fingers.
“Oh, I see now.” Yeri’s voice is quiet and her mouth quivers. She looks down at your cockhead poking out of her cleavage with hunger in her eyes.
You take your other hand away from hers, but only so you can put it back on top, where you guide her into kneading her breasts around your dick. She quickly picks up on the hint and squeezes down. She even takes the initiative and lifts her head to try to lick you as you thrust.
Unfortunately, she can’t quite reach, but you’re not going to let her effort go to waste. You hover your now free hand next to her pouty lips. You quickly go back in your mind to when she was very interested in biting, but you’ve already sealed your fate, and her mouth is wrapped around two of your fingers.
Something about watching her dutifully crushing her tits against your thrusting dick and sweetly sucking on your fingers with her eyes closed sets you off. You barely have the time to say, “I’m cumming.”
In that moment, Yeri’s eyes reopen and catch yours. She makes no move to change what she’s doing. So with one last thrust, you groan in ecstasy and orgasm.
Your cum first hits the bottom of her chin, then lands on her neck, then seeps out onto her chest, directed into different directions by her collarbone. She hardly reacts where you can see it, keeping her eyes locked onto yours and wrapping her tongue around your middle finger.
On the other hand, literally, her legs wrap around your arm and roughly pull your hand until it’s fully connected with her pussy. Your brain is still in a mid-orgasm haze, but it’s easy enough to realize what you’re supposed to be doing. You oblige, dipping two fingers inside her. That gets a happy hum out of Yeri, which you feel directly vibrating up your hand.
After you blink the stars out of your eyes, you look down and see that Yeri is scooping at your cum to bring it to her mouth. She sucks it in without letting go of your fingers. You would protest at the awkwardness of feeling your semen being swirled around your knuckles, but the greediness she displays is way too sexually charged for you to care about things like that anymore.
Eventually, she vacuums all of it down and off your hand, swallows, and releases you. She gives you an expectant look, eyebrows raised and mischievous smile plastered across her face.
You continue to finger her, but her eyes don’t move from yours. “Um. Wow, damn,” you say, not sure what else she wants.
Yeri’s eyebrows go higher. “You’re not going to mention…”
“Your amazing body? Or how hot it is when you’re sweating like that?”
Her smile turns into an absolute shit-eating grin. “Protein shakes are good after exercise!”
You bite your cheek to keep from… laughing? An exasperated sigh? You’re not sure, with how terrible and cliché of a line that would have been.
“Yup. Definitely something like that.”
Yeri giggles and pushes you back so she can sit up. She takes the hand you were fingering her with now. “So you still up for more? Joy says Yerin says you can usually go more than once.”
She starts to lick her juices off of your hand. You can’t help but admire her weird pervertedness.
Deadline for the Part 5 vote will be 1/1 at 12:00 UTC (because I am guaranteed not to work that day!)
Options for Part 5:
1. Of course you’re still up for more, as long as you don’t have to deal with more of this workout bullshit!
2. (Picked:) You’ll do more, but only after she does the squats she said she was going to do. She doesn’t get to half ass her workout just because you’re here!
3. Nope. You’re out of here. See you around, sloot!
4. Maybe. But you'd actually like to maybe get to know Yeri a little first? You kind of jumped into this real fast.
~~~~~
“What? You’re already done with your workout? You’ve barely done anything though.”
Yeri gives you a dirty look. “I’d normally do more, duh. But you’re here right now.”
“Yeah, to fuck you while you work out.”
“Yeah, which you did.”
“Did you cum?”
“No, but that’s fine. I got what I wanted.”
“Do you want to?”
Yeri looks over at the squatting rack, chewing her lip. “I wouldn’t mind, but it’s hard to make me cum. And it would be dangerous while I’ve got something really heavy on top of me.”
“Challenge accepted then.”
She raises her eyebrows at you.
“You go hard on the rest of your workout and I’ll do the best I can to make you cum once you’re done.”
Yeri doesn’t say anything. She walks over to the rack though, and leans back against it. She looks you up and down, straight-faced.
“If you don’t cum, it’s not like you’re not getting your money’s worth.”
She still says nothing, her eyes landing on your dick.
“Because you’re not paying me for this. Because I’m not a prostitute…” You shrug, unsure of how to proceed when you’re being stared down naked.
“Let’s do it. I want to see if you can do it.”
“If I can? Well, what is it that makes it so hard to make you cum?”
Yeri bends over to grab some weights to put on the bar. “I dunno. If I knew, I wouldn’t have the problem.”
“You nervous?”
“It’s not like I haven’t had sex before.”
“Uncomfortable maybe?”
“No, I’m fine. A bit restless, but who isn’t?” Yeri stands under the bar, adjusting herself so her back is comfortably in the curve.
“I know a couple other people like that. We’ll do a little bit of experimenting. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t.”
“Good enough for me.”
“Good enough huh?”
“Yup.”
“Sounds unenthusiastic. You sure you’re up for it?”
“I asked you for another round, remember? I just don’t want you getting your hopes up.”
You laugh. “Everything I could have hoped for is standing in front of me nude and about to do squats.”
Yeri chuckles and picks the bar off the rack. “Greasy.”
You just smile and watch as she does the first squat. It looks effortless. You don’t know enough about form to judge it, but it seems like it’s been practiced for quite some time. It’s smooth on the way down, and smooth on the way up. Graceful, even.
The grace of the action is slightly undercut by the fact that she is of course still naked, a little sweaty, and her chest is completely covered in lube. But that makes it no less attractive to you.
As she does more, you walk around, getting a good view from every angle. The mirror wall ensures that if she wants to, she can see you as well. But she seems focused again, staring herself in the eye.
Her breaths are labored. She inhales deeply as she goes down and exhales loudly as she comes up. Her skin starts to glisten all over as her effort comes out in her sweat. You reach out to touch her, but you suddenly get an idea and step back. Shortly after, she sets the bar back on the rack with a heavy sigh.
“What’s up? You can touch. It’s encouraged.”
You go back to her purse and pull out a water bottle you had seen earlier. “I’m going to hold off on touching you for a minute. I like this. I’m changing the plan. I’m not touching you until I can see how much effort you’re putting into this.”
A smirk creeps up one side of Yeri’s mouth. “You’re on,” she says. She catches the water bottle when you toss to her and takes a swig from it. Then she puts another five kilogram weight on either side of the bar.
As she gets into the next set, you move next to her and sit down on the floor. “Look at these hard-working legs,” you say. She didn’t respond the last time you talked to her, but she can still hear you… you assume. This is mostly just you saying your thoughts out loud, but you hope she’s paying attention.
“Taking on all of this to maintain the look of a perfect idol, but healthy. Damn, I would kill for your dedication.”
Glancing at the mirror you see another tiny smile on Yeri’s face.
“What would you say the ratio is? Your effort and practice versus your natural talent. What amount of each is it that makes your performances look so easy? Because watching you right now it has to be at least sixty percent or more in favor of the exercise.”
You reach out again like you’re going to touch her as she comes down, but you keep your hand just far enough away.
“And not just what you do, but the way this body of yours looks. If I wasn’t watching you sculpt it right now, I’d have figured it was sculpted by some Greek god. Belongs in a fucking art museum if you ask me.”
Your hand hovers extremely close to Yeri’s leg. You can actually feel the heat of her body, way above what you’d normally feel coming off a person. It’s like she’s a human furnace. And the amount of sweat on her is very noticeable now.
The bar catches on the rack again and Yeri bends over to grab the water again, drinking a few more swallows of it this time. “Museum my ass,” she says through a breathy laugh.
“That’s what I’m saying! One more set, right?”
Yeri stretches her arms, prompting you to wonder why she didn’t stretch before the workout. Your narrator says you shouldn’t think about it because it’s really hard to remember all of those kinds of details, and that’s not the point of word porn. But yes, you should be careful and stretch before working out.
“That’s right. I hope you’re ready to go again because I’m seriously wanting more.”
“Absolutely,” you say. You stand up and run a hand over Yeri’s butt and up her back, pressing roughly. “I don’t think I’ve even gone soft once since I had this scene in front of me.”
Yeri groans and rolls her shoulders as you touch them. “I can stop now, you know. I could go for the fucking right now.”
“I know, I know. But you’re not done yet. And I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying watching this.” You take your hand away and look Yeri in the eye via the mirror wall. “Hell, I might just have to convince you to do more.”
Without another word, Yeri gets underneath the bar again and picks it up. “If you’re so eager to see more, then…” She cuts herself off and dips into another squat.
Your eyes trace her from the floor up as you circle around. Yeri's thighs tremble from the weight. Her ass spreads from the movement. Her chest heaves from her breaths. Her lips part in just a way that you consider telling her to drop the bar so you can kiss her, but you're committed to watching her finish.
Rather than tempt yourself with the sight of her lips, you look up at her eyes. But you quickly regret it, as she looks back at yours. Her normally bright, mischievous eyes turn into black holes that you can't escape from. You feel a drop of your own sweat curl its way down your cheek.
“Holy shit, Yeri. I can’t wait to fuck you again, but at the same time, seeing this is too incredible to stop.”
Yeri is the one who breaks the gaze first, scrunching up her eyes. You look down again to see the trembling in her legs has gotten pretty bad.
"This is more weight than you usually use, huh?"
"Y-yup."
"How many left?"
"Three."
"Five."
"What the fu--"
You interrupt her with a kiss, since she's fully upright. The heat of the fire inside her drafts into your mouth. You don't want to stop, but you manage to pull away. "Just do five."
She looks up at you, her mouth gaped open. "Kay,"
As Yeri dips down, you walk around her again. Behind her, you put your hands out over her shoulders to spot her when she's back at your height. "Four more."
Yeri glances at you in the mirror, but quickly shuts her eyes again and goes down. You follow to make sure she's safe, but keep your hands off the bar.
Back at the top again, you continue the countdown. "Three."
Yeri doesn’t open her eyes this time. You just follow her down again, lightly resting your wrists against her shoulders to make sure she knows you're there. Her whole body is quivering as she rises again.
She gasps loudly when she's upright. "Keep breathing," you remind her, "Only two more."
"Shit," is the one word she gets out before she goes again. There's a moment when she reaches the bottom that she hesitates, and you fear she's going to drop the bar. You brace your arms, but Yeri clearly isn't one to disappoint. She rises again, shaking like a leaf.
You feel a little bad when she's all the way up again, as she is clearly already beyond what she's comfortable with. Even so, you're confident you can keep her from hurting herself, so you lean forward next to her ear and say very softly, "Just one more."
It seems she's got nothing more to say, because she immediately goes down for the last squat. You nearly lose your balance following her this time.
She squirms as she starts to lift herself up for the last time. The sweat practically pours off of her.
Her form must be a little off too, because the bar knocks against one of the middle rungs on the rack. She jerks back. A struggled croak comes out of her throat, and you can see her face screwed up in the mirror, with the tiniest bit of black eyeliner running down one side of her face. You're just about to grab the bar and push it up the rest of the way, but you barely have the time to make the move when she huffs and practically jumps up the rest of the way.
The bar lands on the rack safely, but Yeri's knees buckle and she starts to collapse forward. Thankfully with how close you are, you're able to catch her almost immediately, and avoid smacking your head on the bar too.
Her skin, even through her sweat, is practically hot enough to burn your hands. You help her lay down on her back and grab her water bottle, opening it and holding it ready.
Despite your concern, you're feeling extremely turned on. Her beautiful chest rises and falls rapidly. Her whole body absolutely shines. And on her face, closed eyes and a satisfied smile.
You put the water bottle to her lips and tilt so just a little trickles into her mouth. "Stay hydrated," you say simply. Yeri complies and gulps down the stream of water.
When you take away the half empty bottle, Yeri groans and uses her arm to roll herself onto her stomach. "Fuck me already."
That's a request you're happy to fulfill. You position yourself over her and spread her ass apart with your thumbs. Your dick is still covered in lube from earlier, and she's pretty slippery right now too…
A pleased hum from Yeri is the last encouragement you need, and you slide into her ass much more easily than you would have expected. Yeri's moan is muffled by the floor.
"So I keep going, eh?"
"Mmmfffmm."
You lift her pelvis up a bit so you can get a hand underneath and on her clit like before. You rub slowly, to match the slow thrusting into her ass. She doesn't move at all, but her moans keep coming. Much like earlier, her pussy is absolutely drenching your hand, so you assume you're doing something right.
Now that you're in full contact with her body, you can feel her heat again. It's hot enough to be uncomfortable, but considering what you just convinced her to do, you don't think your comfort is worth stopping for.
"How do you feel?" you ask.
Yeri lifts her head enough to respond coherently. "My legs fucking hurt."
You chuckle. "Yeah, sorry about that. You just looked so good doing that. Do you need some time to cool do--"
"Don't you dare get off of me."
"Woah! Noted. Nice."
Yeri rests her head on her arms. "The burn is worth it."
"Good to hear. I enjoyed it too."
"Oh? You didn't do much though. After this," she takes an extra deep breath. Whether it's because of something you did or her exhaustion you're not sure. "After this, you can do an actual workout you know. I think it's only fair if you take a turn, right?"
Ummm… is it fair?
Literally only even putting this in because this part was starting to get too long and I need to try to keep them short for my own sanity LOL *dies inside*. So the deadline for Part 6 will be Jan. 4th at 12:00 UTC.
Options for Part 6:
1. (Picked:) Of course! You’ve been looking forward to your chance this whole time. You’ll happily get your lift on! Save you a trip to your gym!
2. Sure, if you have to. But maybe it’s something you can discuss when you’re not in the middle of this?
3. You don’t want to work out. That wasn’t exactly what you had planned when you came in, but you’re not going to say that now.
4. No way. You’re here to fuck Yeri. If you’re going to work out, you’ll do it on your own time!
~~~~~
In the time it takes you to pull almost all of the way out and slide all the way back in, you’ve made a decision. “Yeah, fuck it. Maybe you can give me a solid tip or two. I could probably use the exercise anyway.”
“I don’t know. Feels like you’re fine to me, but I’m happy to help if I can.”
“Aw, how flattering. And to think I considered saying no.”
Yeri fidgets a little bit. “That would have been okay. Either way, I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing now.”
“That’s good. Because I don’t want to.”
“But don’t forget. It’s okay if I don’t cum.”
“You know, that’s alright. I’m just going to make this as pleasurable for you as I can while I have you underneath me. Let’s not worry about the orgasm right now.”
Yeri holds her head up long enough to look at you in the mirror and say, “Oh my, you caught on. Thank you. But about the orgasm… I do like the idea of your cum in my ass.”
You’re not going to bother arguing against that. If that’s what she wants, you’re happy to provide.
You give Yeri’s ass a few more long, slow, languid thrusts. All the while, you keep a steady pace on her clit.
For as tired as she must be, Yeri doesn’t leave all of the work to you. She grinds her hips in tiny circles and clenches down on her pelvis. She must be doing some kind of exercise for that too, because you know for a fact both Eunha and Yerin have never been able to do that quite as effectively as Yeri is now (though you do feel a sense of deja vu and the name Seungyeon briefly pops into your head). You have to pause each time she does it, and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed by it or if it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.
At the end of an extra long stroke, Yeri reaches behind herself and lays her wrist on the back of your neck, pulling you down so your mouth is next to her ear. You take it as a hint, so you nibble and kiss around the outer edge.
Yeri giggles in a low tone. Her fingers stretch their way into your hair and lightly scratch back and forth.
The sensual tone of the moment overtakes your sensibilities for just a second. Just long enough for you to back up and drive in with one powerful thrust. You hear Yeri’s breath catch in her mouth and you bite down where her shoulder meets her neck, just above and behind her collarbone.
It wasn’t your intention to bite especially hard, but you were a little caught up. Yeri’s caught breath turns into the very first bit of a scream before it catches once again. Her fingers spasm on the back of your head, and every other part of her body that’s in contact with yours tenses up.
You also don’t intend to stop. You don’t quite pound into her the same way, but you do move faster than you were moving before. You change your angle to be more vertical, and you manage to get a couple of fingers around Yeri’s clit.
“Oh god,” Yeri manages to say.
Her ass clenches down on your cock painfully hard. Her whole body freezes up, and the hand on your head feels like it’s stuck. You’re just able to keep thrusting. It seems that’s exactly what you needed to do, too.
Yeri screams out incoherently. You’re a little thankful that she’s facing away from you and into the floor, because you feel like you might have lost your eardrums otherwise. Even as it is, your ears hurt.
Her hand falls away and pats the floor. Her voice is much weaker now. “I came… I came,” she mutters.
You cock an eyebrow up. It wasn’t as hard to make that happen as you were led to believe, especially for anal sex. Fully hilted in, you grind your hips around. “That was easy.”
“Shut uuup,” her voice sounds hoarse. You look to the side to make sure the water didn’t get knocked over at any point, because you get the feeling she’ll need it. “It doesn’t usually happen… like that.”
“What do you think was different?”
“I don’t know… the clit stuff maybe?”
“You don’t get your clit played with often?”
“No, I… I said shut up! Can you… let me up?”
You hold back a laugh and do as she asks. Untangling yourself is slightly difficult with her dead weight on your arm, but you help out by pulling her over onto her back and handing her the water bottle.
Looking down at your hand now that it’s free, you see it’s completely soaked. You must not have noticed how wet she was getting with all of the heat and being distracted by the intense fucking. And right where she was just lying down, there’s practically a lake. You’re not sure where her sweat ends and where her sexual fluid begins (but you have a pretty good idea).
Yeri drags herself up into a sitting position against the squatting rack and finishes off the rest of the water. “Well now my legs and my ass are going to be sore for days. Good thing I’m only MCing stuff I can sit down for.”
“Are you going to be okay with that? After that scream, your voice is a little bit…”
“Yeah, I’ll just tell them I’ve got a little cold. They’ll buy anything.”
The two of you smirk at each other.
“God damn though, that was good. Is it weird to say thanks for that?”
You chuckle. “Nah. And you’re welcome. Will you need more water?”
“I’m dehydrated as fuck now, so yes. But there’s a vending machine right down the hall. But this was enough to hold me over for a minute. What are you looking to do?”
Yeri gestures around the room. There’s quite a bit of equipment you could try out.
This will be another short vote period! Voting will close on 1/6 at 12:00 UTC.
Options for Part 7:
1. The bench is free. That’s pretty basic stuff, and probably where you’re most confident in showing off.
2. She’s got a leg press machine so you can destroy your legs like Yeri just did. Actually that would have been very convenient earlier…
3. (Picked:) Try your hand (and the rest of your body) at pilates! You don’t know what to do, but you’re sure to get a laugh!
4. You lied! You’re out of here! HA!
~~~~~
You point up at the pilates setup and Yeri laughs.
"Yeah! This will be great! You're totally the graceful type."
You're not sure if that's sarcasm you detect in her voice, but you shrug it off. Her laugh is what you wanted to hear and you're already successful in that.
"Oh of course," you say with a very false confidence, "You know they call me the pilates master? Because they do."
You step over and lift yourself onto the device. You grab a hold of it the same way Yeri did before. At least, you’re close. You're not exactly sure.
Very carefully, you step your way up the bars and find yourself horizontal. Then you go further and completely lose your sense of direction, though you think you might be upside down. The blood rushes to your ears but you still hear the sound of Yeri giggling across the room.
“You weren’t kidding. That’s a super advanced move.”
“Yup. I invented it,” you say, pretending to be sure of yourself despite the disorientation, “I call this move the Reverse Crab with Lion Splash. It’s really good for your kneecaps.”
Looking up, or down, or sideways, one of those directions, you see an upside down Yeri covering her mouth to attempt to hold in her snickering.
You complete your sort-of backflip, so that you’re facing the padded table below you, your knees caught on the middle bar. You can feel your hamstrings, back, and shoulders straining to keep from falling right then and there.
Yeri’s barely contained laughter bursts out. You didn’t think it was that funny, but she’s an odd person, so you’re not surprised. Until, that is, she says, “You’re just freeballing up there with those gymnastics huh?”
It hits you that the sight of your lubed up and mostly softened dick flopping around as you awkwardly twist your way around the bars probably is fairly humorous. And a bit embarrassing to match. You suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. And yet, you manage one last retort, “Uh yeah. Haven’t you heard of penilates?”
Yeri snorts and pats the floor. “You’re funny, you know that? I like it. Get back down here and I’ll show you how to do some basics if you really want to do pilates.”
Well, as long as she claims you’re funny.
You maneuver yourself out of the bars and drop off the rack. “Alright coach! What do I do?”
“First, come over here and lay down on your stomach. Put your hands to the sides like you’re going to do a pushup, but like, right under your shoulders.”
The lightly padded floor makes the action relatively comfortable. Yeri rolls on her hips so that she’s able to put a hand on the small of your back. A strangely comfortable chill runs up your spine at the feeling.
“Now push yourself up with your arms, but make sure your legs stay attached to the floor.”
You easily follow her instructions.
“Good!” she says cheerfully. She lifts your chin up, putting more of a stretching sensation on your chest. “Make sure you’re looking straight forward. This is called a Swan. It’s not a big deal, but it helps you with stretching out your core.”
“Yeah, I feel that for sure. I was expecting something a little more intense.”
“Most people are. Pilates is pretty easy though. Mostly.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the hard stuff?”
“Calm it down! We’ll get there. Probably not today though.”
“Aw, why not?”
“Because I’d like to do this with you and I can barely feel my legs.”
“Wow, I’m that good of a fuck?”
Yeri runs her hand over your butt. “Yup. It was all you and your sexual prowess and had nothing to do with anything else that happened since we got here.”
The two of you share a chuckle.
“So how long do I hold this?”
“About now would be good. For you, I’d say… do that for about thirty seconds at a time. And three times of course.”
“What if I normally only do two sets?” you ask as you lay yourself back on the floor.
She lightly smacks your ass. “Hey! What did we agree on about not calling me a liar!”
“Oh, sorry. I would never call you out for lying.”
“That’s… pretty much right. Now, up up!”
Once in your second Swan, you have a thought. “Hey, old reference at this point, but I’ve got a question about what you were talking about in The Lounge.”
“Shoot.”
“I asked why the three of you don’t just have sex with each other, and Seulgi said it was about wanting different things and being uncomfortable with it. So uh, have you tried to bite them before?”
“Oh god. Yeah, I tried that once or twice. Real good reactions out of all four of them.”
“Four?”
“Yup. Well, five. All five of us have tried having sex with each other. Still do sometimes, if we’re feeling desperate.”
“But you’re not into it?”
“Basically. Seulgi is in mad love with Wendy but she’s scared to admit it. Wendy is obsessed with Joy, but Joy is trying to convince herself that she’s straight. Irene and Wendy are both only interested in soft, nice sex, but they both want to be penetrated and can’t seem to get their act together with a double ended dildo. Seulgi wants to be a domme, but ever since Wendy was nearly murdered, she has to go easy on her hips. I’m totally into being dommed, but Seulgi is a wimp and when I talk back to her she gets all nervous and shit.”
You assume thirty seconds have passed, so you lower yourself to the floor again. You knew you would get some kind of explanation when you asked, but you weren’t expecting so much information. You think you may have already forgotten some of it.
Yeri keeps rambling, “Irene used to fuck Seulgi all the time, but during their sub unit promotions they got really busy with each other and I think they just kind of lost the mood, you know? Plus, now that Seulgi wants to explore her rougher side, Irene’s just not into it. Joy used to be the perfect fuck buddy for everybody because she was so good at accommodating everyone and enjoying it. Oh actually, she even did the pet play thing with me once! No clue what we were thinking though. I tried to be a puppy, but then I made a joke about Haetnim and that totally shut the whole thing down. And I’m pretty sure that it isn’t a healthy thing for Wendy, because of how hard she’s crushing for a quote unquote straight girl. But yeah, that’s the point with Joy. She’s claiming that she’s totally straight and started dating Cheungae, but I don’t know how long that’s going to-- Oh no, stay on your stomach.”
You had started to roll over after finishing your third Swan, but Yeri holds you back by your shoulder. “Next I’ll have you do a T.”
“A T? Like the letter T?”
“Exactly.”
“Is it like this?” You stick your arms straight out to either side and point your feet straight down, keeping your face on the floor.
Yeri laughs. “Basically, yes, but now pick your head, chest, arms, and legs up as far as you can, looking forward. Hold that for five seconds, five times.”
This move in particular is actually a bit harder, as it sounds like the only part of you meant to stay on the floor is your stomach.
“Sorry by the way. I rant on like a gossipy bitch sometimes. Was that too much information?”
The voting deadline for Part 8 will be 1/13 at 12:00 UTC!
Options for Part 8 [IMPORTANT]:
1. “Well, it was maybe a bit much.” You can’t blame her for oversharing, but it’s no big deal. She seemed extremely eager to bring all that up, after all.
2. (Picked:) “Nope! In fact, tell me more!” Should you know all of this? No. Do you want to know more? Absolutely yes.
3. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t say so much.” It was pretty rude of her to say all of that stuff about her members’ personal relationships. Your question was much simpler than that.
~~~~~
"Nope! In fact, tell me more!"
Yeri chuckles. "Just as long as you don't spill any of what I tell you, alright? We could both get in some real trouble."
That's how secrets always work, right? You can keep the secrets and the non-secrets separate and never tell anyone anything that would be a problem, right? Yeah, no problem.
Right?
"Well, I don't think Joy's relationship is going to last much longer. She is trying really hard, but the strain is going to get to her. And one of our members is absolutely going to fuck her soon and restore the balance."
You snort, forcing you to put your hands and legs down. "Restore the balance? What is this, an epic fantasy novel?"
"You know what I mean! She's the perfect fucker or fuck toy for every member, and in the past, she's loved that. She told us so herself. But we've been together for years, so we know when she's not alright. About a month after she started dating Cheungae, she said she couldn't have sex anymore. And it's just been downhill from there. They're fucking each other, but she has said more than once that she misses fucking other people too."
"The things people do for the sake of relationships."
"Yeah, it's cute, but…" Yeri grips your ass cheek as you come out of your last T. "You know how freeing it is to not be in one."
You sigh, thinking for a second about something SinB told you. "Yup… but hey, has Joy talked to this guy about an open relationship? Or like some other kind of arrangement? Just taking a wild guess here, but I'd imagine any guy would die for a threesome with Joy and you."
"I offered. I heard from Wheein that Cheungae's got a dick the size of the DMZ, so I'm all for giving that a spin. Joy rejected the idea though."
"Damn, why?"
"Well Cheungae isn't the problem. Joy is. I don't know if it's selfishness or if she is just trying way too hard to make a normal relationship work, but she doesn't want to share, herself or her man."
"That sucks. I'm sorry."
"Ah, it's okay. Like I said, I don't think it'll last much longer. And as far as I'm concerned, I've got myself a solid replacement!"
"I'm not a commodity!"
"Sure, ho, sure." Yeri giggles and slaps your butt.
You reach between her legs and push a couple of fingers into her pussy. "Sounds like you're trying to get me mad."
"Why would I do that? You… degenerate sack of shit who can't even fuck the right hole?"
Suddenly, you hear the sound of Yeri's phone going off. It's Wendy's voice. "Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!"
Yeri scowls. "Hurry up and pound my twat into the core of the planet."
You hold in a laugh and push Yeri onto her back and climb on top of her. Your sweat mixes with hers as you press your bodies together. She’s not burning hot like before, but she’s still pretty warm, and there’s certainly fire in her eyes as she pulls you to her lips--
“Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!”
Yeri’s tongue invades your mouth forcefully. Your practiced cock finds its way into her with no trouble at all. There’s no hesitation from either one of you. She pulls you into her, and you--
“Are you ready for this? Zimzala-- Yeri! I’m calling you on the important line! Why aren’t you picking up?”
That doesn’t sound like a ringtone anymore. You pull away from Yeri’s kiss, but she suddenly sticks a finger against your cheek. “Don’t you dare stop. I don’t want to feel my legs.”
“Didn’t that already happen?” you ask, with no small amount of snark.
“Yeri? Are you still? Oh god. I’m sorry--” Static crackles through the speaker for a moment. “This must be really awkward for you.”
“Oh don’t mind me,” you say, “I’m just doing my job, apparently.” You back up just a bit and start thrusting hard and fast. Yeri’s breath gets pushed out of her with the force of the first one, but she quickly adjusts and matches your rhythm.
There’s a pause from Wendy. “O-okay. That’s good. I mean, wait! No! Yeri! Irene is on her way to pick you up to take you to the studio!”
“God- dammit- Wendy-” Yeri is having difficulty speaking, only managing to get a word or so out for each time you slam into her. “He’s so- fucking- good- Tell- her- to- wait!”
You could swear that you can hear Wendy blushing through the phone. “We can’t! You’ve got to record…”
“He doesn’t- care- about- spoilers!”
“I mean, I kind of do… How did the call start if we’re over here?”
“I had to install an app on her phone to automatically answer the call-- I mean, you’ve got to hurry and pack up! Irene is going to be there any second!”
Yeri whines in staccato, and is about to say something but is interrupted. And you’re suddenly forced to stop fucking her by a voice that chills your spine like being lost in a blizzard.
“Wendy’s right, Yeri. We’ve got to go.”
Looking to the side, you and Yeri both see Irene standing in the wide-open doorway. The lack of expression on her face is unnerving in a way you can’t accurately describe.
“Come on Irene, please! We can just record later! Just give us five more minutes!”
You feel like you could comment on the fact that Yeri sounds like she’s complaining to her mother to stay in bed, but Irene lifts her eyebrows a few millimeters and your motivation to make a joke is suddenly gone.
“Uuugh!” Yeri reluctantly, slowly, pushes you to the side.
Well, seems like that’s over with. But maybe you can convince Irene to let it not be over with… Or not. Hard to say.
The voting deadline for Part 9 will be 1/17 at 12:00 UTC!
Options for Part 9:
1. Irene doesn’t scare you! Tell her you’re not done with Yeri yet! SM can wait for her!
2. Okay, Irene scares you. You should apologize and see yourself out of here.
3. (Picked:) Eh. No big deal. Yeri said that Irene is basically just the same as the other RV members.
~~~~~
You lean back against one of the vertical bars of the squat rack. The metal is very cold, making you flinch. But you play it cooler than the metal, propping your chin up on your wrist by putting your elbow on your knee.
“Hey Irene,” you say casually, as if you weren’t naked in front of one of the most powerful idols in the business, “How’s your morning so far?”
“It’s fine.” Irene is just as casual as you are. She seems more interested in watching as Yeri crawls around the gym on her arms, gathering clothes.
“So you have a new comeback soon, huh?”
Her eyes seem unfocused for a moment, as if she’d just spaced out.
“Oh. Yes,” she eventually says.
Irene’s not especially talkative, you surmise.
“Well, if the recording isn’t too urgent, you can hang out with us for a bit longer. I bet Yeri would be willing to share, assuming you were also wanting in on this situation.”
“Oooh, hey yeah. You want some Irene?” Yeri asks. A cheesy grin spreads across her face. “I got him all warmed up for you.”
Irene gestures softly at Yeri’s bra in the middle of the floor. Yeri rolls her eyes and reaches out for it.
“I appreciate the thought.”
You shrug and move to grab your own clothes. Putting them on feels gross considering the sweat and cum all over you. You resolve to take a shower as soon as you get home. “It was worth a shot.”
Yeri gets her sports bra back on and lets out a long sigh. “You sure though? My voice is a little fucked up right now. We could say I’m sick and that you’re just taking care of me like a good leader.”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
A woman of few words, this one.
With your legs fully functional, you’re able to finish dressing much quicker than Yeri, and approach Irene, giving her a standard bow. “Good to meet you, by the way. Sounds like you’ve already heard about me.”
“From Joy, yes.” Irene bows back to you. “Is it okay if I get your contact from Wendy?”
You blink in shock. That was easy enough. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.”
Irene nods, expression still inscrutable. “Do you prefer calls or texts?”
“Either works for me.”
Yeri pops in. “He’s not actually a prostitute you know.”
For the first time, Irene makes a face you can decipher. It seems to be a bit of minor, subtle shock. “Oh, so this…” She points back and forth between you and Yeri. “Was for…”
You finish for her after she pauses. “The hell of it, yeah.”
“I paid you in salmon bagels,” Yeri says.
“Well that and a free pilates lesson, sure.”
The tiniest smile curls up the corners of Irene’s lips. “How fun.”
It gets silent again, besides the sounds of Yeri huffing as she works to get her pants back on. You nod quietly, unsure of how to respond.
Thankfully, Irene looks you in the eye and motions for you to come closer, which you do. While Yeri is occupied with pulling her hoodie back over her head, Irene leans in close to you and whispers into your ear, so quietly it takes you a moment to process what she’s saying.
“I heard you earlier. Stay away from Joy.”
You back off again, a little struck by what sounded like a very calm threat.
“I’m parked downstairs Yeri. No more than five minutes, okay?”
“Oh come on, you tell me that now?!”
Without another word, Irene turns and walks back out the door. You’re still a little stunned, watching the back of her head, when she looks back over her shoulder and gives you a coy smile and a wink. Your head swims with questions.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the now-closed door, but you’re snapped out of it by a loud smack on the back of your jeans, just below your ass. Yeri’s next to you, keeping herself upright with her hand on the wall. “A little help here?”
You look down and see her legs are shaking like leaves. “Oh shit, yeah, I’ve got you.”
Scooping your arm under hers, you support as much of her weight as you can on your shoulder. It feels like she’s mostly able to stay on her feet on her own, but she definitely wobbles a bit.
“You going to be okay?” you ask once you’re in the hallway.
“Oh totally! I’ll be able to walk... mostly normally once we’ve reached the studio. But you know how it is. Squat until your legs give out and then immediately get ass-fucked to an unexpected orgasm, and that’ll give you a few minutes worth of trouble.”
“That’s not actually a sensation I’m familiar with.”
“Who knows? Maybe Seulgi will get her domme act together and then you will be!”
You’re not so sure how you feel about that.
“Hey by the way. Irene was asking about getting your number, right? Can I get it now? Faster than getting it from Wendy since she’ll probably be out all day.”
This will be the last vote for Yexercise! *Wipes away tears* The deadline for this vote will be 1/23 at 12:00 UTC, at which point we’ll be talking on the Discord server about what’s next!
Options for Part 10:
1. (Picked:) Of course she can have your number right away! You had fun, she had fun, you should have more fun!
2. Don’t let this crazy have your contact info. In fact, you should let Wendy know to give her a fake number…
~~~~~
You don’t even need to say anything. You pull out your phone, open your contacts, and hand it to Yeri. She puts her info in and sends herself some random gibberish in a text.
“Awesome!” she says, slipping the phone back into your pocket expertly as you make your way down the hall together, “No requests for sleazy pictures though. Can’t have anything getting out if something happens to your phone. Or mine.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t dream-- well, I would dream of it. But I won’t ask.”
Yeri giggles. “Ah, hey. The water’s right there. Wanna stop for just a second?”
At the machine, Yeri swipes her key card just like she did at the door to the gym. It only contains what you recognize as the cheap water brands, unsweetened tea, some dried fruit snacks in plain packaging, and a variety of protein bars. There’s no indicator for payment anywhere though.
“Perks of the personal, private gym?” you ask.
“Perks of the personal, private gym,” Yeri says.
A couple of water bottles are pushed out at arm’s height. Yeri hands one to you, takes the other for herself, and you both gulp down about half before continuing.
“I’ve got to say, I was expecting this to be one of those expensive waters. Blessed by monks, imported from Egypt, shit like that.”
Yeri smirks. “You know what they say. SM water tastes like water. No reason to spend wastefully.”
She finishes her water off, and you get to the stairwell. You think that three flights of stairs might be a little difficult at the moment, but fortunately there’s an elevator nearby you hadn’t noticed when you were following Yeri up earlier.
As you’re gradually taken to the ground floor, Yeri nudges your side. “If I ever share something juicy with you by the way, I expect at least five words in response. None of that ‘LOL’ followed by silence stuff.”
You laugh. “What if I can’t think of anything to say?”
“You can just bullshit an answer. No biggie.”
“What if my life is threatened because I know your gossip?”
“Your life, huh?”
“Well, not specifically. I just assume Irene will break every bone in my body. I guess I can live through that, right?”
“God, she better not be doing that again.”
You stare at Yeri. “Doing that again?”
“Making people uneasy. Point is, don’t worry about her. She’s just got a… uh, an unusual way of communicating, we’ll say.”
“Something like that, sure.”
Yeri puts her free hand on your chest. “She’ll warm up to you, I promise. I’ll put in a good word for you! As long as you do me one more favor.”
Anything to get a good word in to Irene so you don’t end up murdered. “What’s that?”
“Just give me one more, real good kiss in front of her. Right up next to the car window!”
You wrap your arms around her waist and shift Yeri so she’s in front of you. “Like this?” you ask, and half-lift her to your height. The moment your lips touch, you feel the elevator jerk to a stop and the door opens.
“Maybe a bit more than that, but I like where your head’s at.”
“It could be between your legs,” you say, mimicking Yeri’s seductive tone from earlier at The Lounge.
“Don’t tempt me like that!”
All smiles, you help Yeri feebly get outside. You spot a car with dark windows, where you can barely see Irene’s silhouette inside. It also happens to be the only car on the street, and Yeri easily confirms that it’s the correct one.
Yeri is thankfully able to stand on her own once you get to the passenger side. You open the door for her, but before she gets in, you spin her to face you and dive in for a real kiss. She moans and her arms wrap up under your shirt instantly, so you respond by sliding one hand down the back of her yoga pants. It should be right where Irene can see your fingers outlined through the fabric.
Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a reaction from Irene. You wonder what it will take to crack her neutral act.
“Mmm, even more than that next time, okay?” Yeri pulls away from you and turns to get into the car.
“Of course. I might charge you one extra water bottle next time though.”
“Uh-oh. I’ll be sure to save up for it.”
You laugh together before she sits down. You lean over to pop your head in after her. “See you next time then. And good to finally meet you Irene!”
Irene looks up at you from the book she was reading. “Hm? Oh yes, a pleasure.”
Yeri catches your gaze again. You can see the moment of sudden, unbridled thrill in her eyes, so you wait for her to say…“No Irene! The pleasure was mine!”
Her hand shoots up, and you meet it for an excellent, but questionably deserved high-five. Irene sighs heavily.
You laugh and back up again. “Nice one, Yeri. See you later.”
“See ya, ho!” Yeri shouts before closing the door. As is the case with Yerin, you’re pretty sure you’re stuck with nicknames like that from now on.
You wave the car goodbye and turn back around to make your way back home. You could use a shower.
THE END
~~~~~
Post-story notes:
Hey everybody! Thank you again for joining me for one of these crazy vote stories. I’ve really appreciated the participation, and I think we’ll be getting even more next time!
We’ll be discussing the subject and characters for the next story on the Discord. Suggestions so far include (forgive me if the capitalization is incorrect on these)…
Dreamcatcher, WJSN, Mamamoo, Momoland, CLC, Oh My Girl, Lovelyz, more Gfriend, and Fromis_9! But nothing’s set in stone yet! Fill out the form in #announcements if you have even more suggestions to add to the hat.
As for when the next story starts, I’m going to say probably the first week of February. As you may have seen me mention, I’ll be writing some shorts just to spill some of my creative juices. On top of that, I quit my day job! Because I’m starting school! So exciting and nerve wracking! Given how stupidly stressful my day job was, I’m hoping I should be able to pump out stories a little more frequently moving forward.
The storyline unlocks from Yexercise are going to look pretty obvious:
[Yeri - Workout buddy]
[Yeri - Gossip girl]
And just like with Movie Night, here are some fun facts about unpicked options! At least one of you read these last time, and made a very astute observation about Sowon, so you’ll be getting your wish for that fairly soon.
Part 1. Picking Wendy or Seulgi would have (obviously) resulted in a different name for the story altogether! The names I had in mind weren’t finalized, but the top contenders were “Snow Day” for Wendy and “Dom-Flavored Pringles” for Seulgi.
Part 3. Yeri had two animals in mind for the pet-play: She could have been a cat or a cow. The option to be a puppy would have also been there, but she would have been skeptical about it given her history trying that with Joy.
Part 4. At first, I wasn’t planning on there being any anal in Part 6, but because the vote for Part 4 was SO close, I went back and changed my plans, just so y’all could get what you wanted. :P
Part 5. Again, just mentioning how close the vote was. I was very interested to see that for most of the voting period, the options to keep Yeri working out and to stop and just talk to her were neck and neck. I’m still feeling out what the best balance is between fluff and smut, and you guys are surprisingly wholesome!
Part 7. If you had chosen the leg workout, you’d have been too exhausted to help Yeri out of the gym, resulting in Irene rescheduling the recording session. She’d have stayed to hang out, and that would have blocked off the [Yeri - Gossip girl] storyline (which does have some smaller impact on the relationship with Irene moving forward as well, btw).
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—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER
extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.
pairing—corpse husband x f!reader
warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.
word count—2.6k.
format— written.
─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao
author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao
ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist
You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.
A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?
Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.
A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”
mother i crave violence
sensing evil energy rn!!
i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖
^with peace and love shut the fuck up
“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”
You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”
Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.
“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”
rip headphone users
i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears
yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭
To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.
Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?
Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie
akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.
Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.
There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.
The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.
nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!
^pack it up girl defined
“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”
You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.
“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”
i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live
shes trying give her time
ya dig??? y not capeesh
what scene from the godfather is this lol?
“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.
Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me
Corpse_Husband: thanks baby
Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎
You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”
The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.
Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:
I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.
You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.
“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”
NOW she considers it
well....
if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3
Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”
Onto the bio:
You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜
“What the fuck did I just read?”
The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.
The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.
But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.
No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.
“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.
WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????
tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be
^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell
look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling
It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.
What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.
Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.
YOU’RE BLOCKED.
You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.
...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.
You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.
“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.
“What?” She grits.
“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”
“What did you do now?”
“I made fun of men on Tinder.”
She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”
“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”
“Y/n.”
“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”
She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.
Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.
You
Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!!
MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE
r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(
my husband
You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?
Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.
Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!
You
hehe ur jellyyyy
u always dis jealous hehe?
my husband
Not jealous.
Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”
He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!
my husband
I’m not jealous. Lol.
You
ik u repeated tht like 50 times
u trynna convince me or??? lmao
my husband
No comment.
...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?
You
no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering
at least not to my knowledge lol
im all urs
my husband
That makes me very happy to hear:)
Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.
hope you liked it!! xx
#corpse husband#corpse husband x reader#corpse#corpse x reader#corpse husband x y/n#corpse x y/n#myso#make you say oh#imagine#imagines
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Taming Temerity
Pairing— Min Yoongi x reader
Genre— SMUT +18, incubus!Yoongi, demon au, Valentine’s Day au
Warnings— Dom!Yoongi, brat!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, hickies, shibari, tickling huehuehue, swearing, explicit unprotected sex (use protection when fucking a demon), ass slapping, creampie
Word Count— 4.3k
/təˈmerədē/: excessive confidence or boldness; audacity || You try explaining Valentine’s Day to Min Yoongi, your incubus boyfriend that feeds on your sexual energy. At first he doesn’t understand the point, but if it’ll make you horny then he’s willing to do anything.
A/N— This fic is part of the Valentine’s Day collab Be My Bangtanvine with @kimtaehyunq @ppersonna @ughseoks @jinned @joontopia and @feliix. Make sure to check out their stories too!
“I never understood this holiday. You know it’s just a corporate scam for suckers like you, right?” Yoongi expressed his disdain as his gaze fell on the extravagant Valentine’s Day section in the grocery store.
“So you’ve mentioned, Mr. Party Pooper,” you rolled your eyes, “Some people just like getting chocolates and flowers from their partners. I don’t see any problem with that.”
“Do you want chocolates and flowers? I can get them for you any time, just say the word,” Yoongi offered.
“That’s the point, it should be a little surprise. I wouldn’t have to ask you to do anything,” you tried to explain.
“At that point you’re already expecting something, doesn’t that just defeat the purpose?” your companion was genuinely confused.
“You know what? I don’t expect a demon like you to get it,” you were getting frustrated.
“No need to throw the ‘D’ word around like that. I’m an incubus sure, but we specialize in lust, not love. However, I’m always down to try new things. You of all people should know that,” he ended suggestively.
You started to think about how your relationship started with Yoongi. Your body went on autopilot mode on the drive back home as flashbacks flooded your mind.
It all started about six months ago when you randomly started to have sleep paralysis consistently. You’d foolishly open your eyes and see a dark figure in the corner of your room that gradually came closer before settling on top of you. The extra weight on your chest made it hard to breathe. Once it got to that point, your eyelids would close and you’d be whisked away to a sensual dream. You’d wake up refreshed and energized, completely forgetting about the terrifying events that led up to your wet dream.
One night, you miraculously were able to break the cycle. As soon as the dark figure approached the bed, you threw a pillow at it. At that point, you weren’t sure if you were in a dream or not, but you dashed to turn on your bedroom lights. The light revealed a man standing frozen in place by your bed. You remember screaming for help and shouting things about a pervert stalker.
“Help! Somebody help there’s an intruder! Someone please--” suddenly your mouth refused to open.
“Well this is awkward,” the man rubbed the back of his neck, “Let’s get a few things out of the way first. I’m not a pervert or a stalker. In fact, I’m not even human, I’m an incubus. A new one at that.”
Your eyes widened in horror at the mention of a demonic entity. You backed up into a wall trying to get away from him while muffled screams desperately tried to escape from your sealed lips.
“I’m sure you have a few questions. Normally I would just put you to sleep but you’re wide awake now and honestly I don’t have the kind of mana to deal with all that. So we’ve found ourselves in quite the predicament,” the demon sighed as he sat on your bed. With a wave of his hand, your mouth was finally able to open again.
“What the fuck do you mean you’re a demon? This must be a dream right?” you were bewildered.
“Come sit by me, I can show you that I’m real,” the demon patted the bed.
“Trusting a self proclaimed demon is probably a bad idea but this is just a weird dream anyway,” you reasoned out loud as you sat beside the intruder.
The man raised one of his hands to cup your cheek; you shuddered at his cold touch. Something changed when you looked into his eyes. Suddenly, you felt like kissing this total stranger. In fact, you felt a lust that you’ve never felt before. Before you knew it, you were straddling the man, rubbing your crotch against his as you passionately made out.
“Lay back and take off your pants, dear,” he commanded. You did as he said without hesitation.
The man licked his lips as he spread open your legs. He slowly dragged a finger along your covered slit. Pulling your panties aside, he dove in tongue first, causing you to shudder at the warm and wet sensation. His tongue flicked around between your folds as his thumb began to circle your clit. Pleasure coursed throughout your body as your hands entangled themselves in his hair. You felt two hard protruding bumps atop his head...horns?
“Reaching for my horns already? Naughty girl,” the man smirked as he inserted a finger into your wet pussy. You squirmed at his action. It wasn’t enough, you needed more.
“Oh? What’s wrong?” he asked with fake innocence as he slowly finger fucked you, “Is one not enough? Do you need more?” You silently nodded in response.
“Nuh uh, I need to hear you say it,” he teased.
“Please, I need more,” you begged as you helplessly tried to grind against his one finger.
“Hm one finger isn’t enough huh? How about two?” he added in his middle finger as you moaned, “Or do you want three?”
His ring finger slid in with ease. Finally, you felt full; lewd sounds escaped from your lips. Your back arched as he picked up his pace, curling his fingers into you with every pump. Something tight wound up in you, indicating that you were close to your high.
“Keep going. Faster,” you panted as your legs began to shake.
“Your wish is my command,” he obliged. You cried out as your orgasm hit you. Waves of euphoria rippled across your body as he slammed his fingers into you a final time, leaving his fingers pressed up against your g-spot to prolong the event.
You focused on catching your breath while the alleged demon smiled down at you. It wasn’t a creepy smile, it was one of triumph. His fingers were still inside of you.
“You can pull them out now,” you said weakly.
“I tried. Your tight little pussy is clamped onto them. See?” he showed you how your lips stayed gripped onto his fingers, “If I can’t pull them out, I might as well go back in.”
He pushed his fingers back in, making you gasp. You were still extremely sensitive, any movement of his would push you over the edge yet again.
“If you do that-- fuck-- I’ll come again,” you warned him.
“Let’s see how many you can handle,” the man challenged as he picked up his speed yet again.
You came three times that night. All just to his hand and occasionally his mouth. The demon looked satisfied with his work as you laid blissed out before him. He slunk down beside you, laying on his side with his head propped up on his arm.
“These got bigger,” you observed as you reached for his horns. The tiny black stumps had grown longer and had a more defined horn shape. They felt cool to the touch and were ridged, similar to those of a ram.
“They’re not the only things that got bigger,” he winked, “This is where my mana is stored. Essentially I get stronger when I consume energy.”
“Consume energy? Are you going to eat me?” you questioned with intrigue. You still believed you were in a strange dream.
“Already did. I told you, I’m an incubus. We feed off of sexual energy. I rather enjoyed the meal. It’s too bad this will be the last time I can see you though,” he pouted.
“What? Why can’t you visit me in my dreams like you normally do?” you could get used to having dreams like this.
“Because you know that I exist. After tonight, you’ll forget all about me and I’ll get reassigned to a different human,” he answered nonchalantly.
“Does that mean I’ll get another incubus demon?”
“Not exactly. There are many different kinds of beings that dwell in the underworld. You could get any one of them. Most of them aren’t as fun or as handsome as me though,” he tried to lighten the conversation.
“I don’t want to forget you, nor do I want this dream to end,” you admitted.
“Silly girl, you still think this is a dream? There actually might be a way to have me stay with you. All you have to do is make a contract with me. Interested?” the demon offered.
“A contract? Am I gonna be selling my soul to you or something? I would prefer to keep that if possible,” you tried to joke.
“I’m not that kind of demon. The contract would simply bind us together. You let me consume all of your sexual energy and I give you the best orgasms you’ll ever have. Seems like a fair deal to me,” he explained.
“So I’ll basically have a demon boyfriend? I don’t mind that, sign me up,” you nodded. You were groggy at this point and your eyelids were getting heavy.
“Boyfriend? I suppose you could put it that way. Let’s seal this deal with a kiss,” he suggested. He leaned in to your already puckered up lips. He paused mere centimeters from your face, “I’m Yoongi by the way. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier.”
You pulled him in for a soft kiss, “Hey Yoongi, I’m ___. I guess I’m your girlfriend now.”
“Whatcha thinking about?” Yoongi interrupted your thoughts.
“About the night we met,” you answered as you pulled into your driveway.
“That was a good night. You were so cute when you called yourself my girlfriend,” he smiled.
“Shut up, I thought it was all a dream,” you said defensively as you unloaded the groceries.
“I was thinking about Valentine’s Day as you were driving in silence. I wanna give it a try. I don’t get the hype, but if it will make you happy then I’m willing to go along with it,” Yoongi stated.
“Really?” your mouth opened with excitement, “Do I need to plan the date or are you taking the reins on this one?”
“I’ll start doing my research now,” Yoongi gave you a thumbs up.
“Rise and shine gorgeous~” Yoongi sing songed as he opened the blinds.
You retreated back under the covers to shield yourself from the light. Yoongi tugged at the edge, making you even more aggravated. Curling up into a ball in the fetal position was your last line of defense. Once Yoongi flung off the blanket, you were done for.
“To start off your very best Valentine’s Day ever, I present you a bouquet,” Yoongi shoved a bundle of red roses in your face, causing you to sneeze. A few petals violently detached and fluttered helplessly onto the bed.
“Thanks Yoongi, the flowers are pretty,” you managed to say with a stuffy nose, “I wish I could adore them more but flowers always trigger my allergies.”
“Hm, every romance film I watched always showed the girl loving roses,” Yoongi pondered, “Not to worry, my algorithm is flawless.”
“Are you a robot now?” you joked. The sweet smell of syrup and waffles caught your attention. Yoongi noticed this and excitedly yanked you out of bed. Normally you would bicker about the manhandling but you decided to let today be an exception.
The living room was filled with pink and white heart shaped balloons. Yoongi dragged you to the breakfast table, where the usual placemats were replaced with red hearts and small metallic heart shaped confetti were sprinkled all across the surface. To top it off, the belgian waffles were heart shaped, outlined with whipped cream and topped with strawberries. The presentation rivaled that of an actual restaurant.
Yoongi watched expectantly as you took the first bite. Your mouth turned into a smile as you tasted the fluffy waffle. The toppings complemented the dish perfectly, and you were hungry for more.
“I made eggs and bacon too, though it was hard to get the eggs into a heart shape,” Yoongi sighed as he showed you his attempt to get heart sunny side eggs. The shape was wonky but it was impressive that the yolks were still well intact.
“I don’t care what they look like, I’m sure they’ll taste great. Thank you, Yoongi, this is incredible,” you showered him with compliments as you continued to eat. Yoongi smiled with satisfaction as he took a sip of coffee, his favorite choice of sustenance from the human realm.
“Enjoying your Valentine’s Day so far?” he asked from across the table.
“I’ve only been awake for about 5 minutes but it’s been pretty good so far,” you nodded.
“Well whenever you’re ready, go get ready for a day out,” Yoongi winked, “Dress however you want, it’ll be casual.”
You couldn’t help but wonder about what Yoongi had planned for the day. It was still a little chilly, so you put on a cute sweater paired with jeans. You accessorized with a beret and your favorite jewelry pieces. Yoongi waited for you in the living room, and his eyes lit up when he saw you. It wasn’t the usual dark lustful look he normally gave you, but rather one of fondness and genuine adoration.
“Where are we off to now?” you asked in the passenger seat, which was a rare sight. Yoongi didn’t like to drive, he always complained about how it would be easier to just teleport. You always had to remind him that humans do not simply ‘teleport’ places and you’d surely turn a lot of heads if you did. Regardless, you enjoyed watching Yoongi drive. You admired his delicate features as he concentrated on the road.
“Can’t tell you, that you ruin the surprise,” Yoongi chided.
Your eyes widened as he pulled into the parking lot of the local aquarium. It had been years since you last visited, and you were thrilled that Yoongi picked this place as a date spot.
“The aquarium! Ah, I’m so excited! But they aren’t inherently romantic, what made you think of coming here?” you questioned.
“I remember you mentioned wanting to come back here someday. I figured today would be a good time,” he shrugged. Yoongi’s thoughtfulness made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Once inside, you took the liberty of pointing out every fish you thought looked pretty to Yoongi. He was amused by how much you enjoyed something as simple as looking at fish. Colorful fish chased each other around their tanks, darting between corals and other underwater plants. You loved watching them go about their lives as they vibed within the aquarium.
“It would be nice to be a fish,” you said to Yoongi as you stared in awe at jellyfish that were nearly transparent as they carelessly floated around.
“A fish? Why?” Yoongi scoffed.
“They seem happy, and free in a way. All they do is swim around and eat, that sounds like a good time to me,” you explained.
“And worry about getting eaten by a bigger fish. I’d rather be a cat if I had to be any animal,” Yoongi countered.
“Okay, that’s probably a better choice,” you laughed as you imagined Yoongi as a cat. It fit him surprisingly well.
After leaving the aquarium, Yoongi suggested walking to a nearby gelato shop. You were never one to turn down dessert, so you agreed. The air was crisp and the cold made your cheeks go slightly numb, but you didn’t mind. You happily swung Yoongi’s hand back and forth in yours, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been on a date that went this well.
“___?” a voice called out to you. You looked around to see who called you. Out of nowhere, someone ran up and hugged you from behind. You let go of Yoongi’s hand in the commotion as you were spun around.
“What the--” you said in shock. Finally you were put down, and saw a familiar face grinning back at you.
“Oh my god, Jungkook!” you exclaimed as you hugged him back. He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek.
“It’s been forever! I didn’t know you still lived here,” you said.
“I know right?! God, like 13 years or something? I’m here visiting some old pals. We’re all single so we’re celebrating this stupid holiday together,” Jungkook laughed.
“Aww that's cute. I guess this holiday is pretty dumb, but I’m actually celebrating it with someone this year! This is Yoongi,” you introduced Jungkook to your boyfriend.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Jungkook,” the young boy extended a hand.
“Min Yoongi,” Yoongi replied curtly as he firmly shook Jungkook’s hand.
“Damn, where are you hiding all that muscle?” Jungkook joked as he clutched his hand.
“Looks can be deceiving,” Yoongi deadpanned.
“How long are you in town for? I’d love to catch up with you on another day,” you interrupted.
“I’ll be here for a few more days. Is your number still the same? I can text you tomorrow?” Jungkook offered.
“That’s perfect, I’ll see you around!” you waved goodbye and returned your attention to Yoongi.
You took a hold of his hand and continued walking to the gelato shop. Yoongi was noticeably quiet now, and his demeanor had completely changed. There was an awkward silence between you two as you ordered your favorite flavors. You both sat outside to eat the gelato.
“So who was he?” Yoongi finally spoke.
“Jungkook used to be my neighbor when we were kids. We practically grew up together. He moved away sometime in middle school and I haven’t seen him since. He looks great, I almost didn’t recognize him. What? Are you jealous?” you teased.
“I almost killed him when he kissed you,” Yoongi said in a tone that let you know that he was not kidding.
“Yoongi! People greet each other that way sometimes. Sure, it was a little forward, but we used to be best friends as kids,” you scolded him.
“Ready to go home?” Yoongi asked, completely disregarding your explanation.
“Okay let’s go back you big baby,” you sighed as you threw away your trash.
You hummed along with the radio all the way home. Yoongi didn’t say anything the whole ride. You were surprised by his behavior, you figured an incubus wouldn’t mind seeing affection in public. He had never given you the silent treatment before, so this was uncharted waters.
“Today was really nice, I think you did a good job planning out our Valentine’s day together,” you praised Yoongi as you returned home.
“Glad you enjoyed it,” Yoongi said coldly.
“Why are you being so pouty? C’mere, let me give the big baby a hug,” you reached for him with outstretched arms.
“You think I’d let you get away with that kind of behavior?” an annoyed Yoongi glared back at you.
“C’mon, it’s not like it really matters,” you teased, trying to push your luck.
“It matters to me. You’re mine,” Yoongi snarled, baring his fangs.
“You’ve made that abundantly clear,” you tilted your neck, revealing marks from his previous feedings, “I can’t leave the house without a crap ton of concealer to cover up your monstrous hickeys.”
“You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to be my permanent lover,” Yoongi shrugged, his anger dissipating.
“Who knew dating an incubus would be so tiresome,” you playfully roll your eyes.
“So that random guy kissing your cheeks doesn’t deserve to die?” he asked quietly.
“No! I told you, we’re childhood friends. I haven’t seen him in years. It’s okay to greet close friends with a friendly peck on the cheeks” you crossed your arms, “You’re being annoying. No dinner for you tonight,” you said confidently as you both entered the bedroom.
“Oh? Since when do you call the shots around here?” his voice lowered.
“Since now,” you replied defiantly.
“Keep being cheeky, see where that gets you,” Yoongi challenged.
You smiled slyly as you pushed him onto the bed. Standing before him, you pulled off your sweater to reveal your bare chest. Yoongi instinctively reached out to grab them but you slapped his hand away.
“No touching,” you tsked as you slowly stripped off your bottoms.
You turned to shake your ass at him. The gesture was meant to be playful, but Yoongi took it as a wage of war. He instantly pulled you onto his lap; your panties rubbed up against his hardened crotch.
“I’m hungry,” he growled in your ear as he firmly gripped your ass.
“Not my problem,” you snapped, doing your best to maintain your composure.
“You’ll let me starve?”
“Don’t act as if you didn’t eat me out until I begged for you to stop last night,” you admonished.
“Enough,” Yoongi silenced you.
He roughly latched his soft lips onto your neck. His harsh suckling caused you to moan and tangle your fingers in his minty green hair. You cupped his chin in an attempt to kiss him, but he pulled away.
“You think you get to touch me now? Foolish,” he threw you further onto the bed.
With a snap of his fingers, your panties vanished. They were replaced with strict constraints as your hands and feet were bound by an intricate silk rope pattern. You’ve never been tied up like this before. You’ve dabbled in using handcuffs or fastening a belt around your wrists, but this was something else entirely.
“You wanted to play. So let’s play,” Yoongi cooed in your ear as his fingers traced your sides.
“Oh fuck, Yoongi no,” your eyes widened.
“You’ve been a bad girl,” he smiled deviously.
His fingers dug into your sides. You burst out into a fit of laughter. You wriggled around uncontrollably in a futile attempt to get away from him. Yoongi accidentally found out that you were extremely ticklish, and ever since that day he uses it as leverage against you. It wasn’t fair at all considering that demons aren’t ticklish.
Tears welled in your eyes when he finally ceased his attack. Yoongi also knew that tickling was a turn on for you. Something about having another person’s hands all over you made you wet.
“You look so helpless,” Yoongi chuckled.
“Maybe these ropes have something to do with that,” you retorted as you panted.
“Still talking back? You obviously haven’t learned your lesson,” Yoongi ran his fingers along your sides.
“No, please. I can’t take anymore,” you pleaded.
“I think you can,” he smirked before tickling you again.
This time he didn’t stop until you were on the verge of passing out. The bondage made it even harder to catch your breath. Yoongi gingerly kissed your neck as you howled with laughter.
“Will you be a good girl now?” Yoongi asked as he flicked your nipples.
“Mhm,” you managed to whimper.
“I haven’t whipped out any shibari in ages, but I’m glad I did. I forgot how appetizing it makes humans look,” Yoongi licked his lips.
“I can’t move,” you complained.
“That’s the point, my dear ___,” Yoongi kissed your forehead.
His hand trailed down your stomach to your exposed pussy. He was pleased to find that you were already dripping wet. He rubbed circles around your clit as he licked your neck. He ferociously kissed over his previous marks as he started rubbing you faster. Your energy tasted exponentially better the more aroused you became.
Being in such a vulnerable and powerless position turned you on so much. You found yourself at Yoongi’s mercy. Yoongi easily slipped two fingers inside of you. He curled his fingers to perfectly graze your g-spot, causing you to moan loudly.
“You want me to fuck you?” Yoongi whispered in your ear.
“Please. I need you, Yoongi,” you begged.
“I know you do,” he kissed your lips gently.
With another snap of his fingers, the ropes moved their position. Now your wrists were bound to your chest, and your legs were already spread open.
Yoongi dragged his dick along your wet pussy. He loved watching you squirm beneath him as you impatiently waited for him to dick you down. He relished the erotic scene that lay before him. Witnessing you at the pinnacle of your horniess was a blessing. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.
He thrusted his hips into you with inhuman force. He didn’t give you time to adjust to his thick cock; you didn’t deserve that tonight. Your cries of pleasure were music to his ears. He grabbed your chin as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip. You automatically stuck your tongue out for him.
“Good fucking girl,” Yoongi growled as you began to suck on his thumb, your tongue swirling around it.
Yoongi tugged at the ropes, making them vanish instantly. Your freedom was short lived since he immediately flipped you onto your chest. He propped up your ass, giving each cheek a firm slap.
This position was his favorite, and admittedly yours as well. He loved the backside view, and you loved how deep he got. You were sure to lose your mind every time he got behind you. This instance was no exception.
You reached down between your thighs to maximize your pleasure as your fingers easily toyed with your clit. Usually Yoongi wouldn’t allow you to touch yourself, but you couldn’t help it. You were too riled up from being all tied up.
You came undone all over Yoongi’s cock. The warmth of your juices heightened Yoongi’s lust, causing him to thrust faster. He released his hot load into you, groaning as he climaxed.
Your chest heaved as you struggled to stay awake. One of the side effects of being fucked by an incubus is that they literally can fuck you to sleep. After Yoongi cleaned you up, it was cuddle time. He ran his fingers through your hair, making it even harder not to succumb to slumber.
“Full?” you asked with your eyes half shut.
“I’m never satiated, but I can’t complain for now,” he answered.
“Great. Happy Valentine’s Day, Yoongi,” you yawned.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, ___. I hope I lived up to your expectations,” he patted your head.
“You surpassed them,” you nodded in approval.
“Go to bed,” Yoongi stifled a laugh, “I guess it’s not a pointless holiday after all.”
Published February 9, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.
#bts smut#min yoongi smut#bangtanarmynet#ksmutclub#btswritingcafe#bangtanshadowfamily#btscreatorscorner#bts pwp#yoongi pwp#bts fanfic#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#demon bts#incubus bts#yoongi fanfic#yoongi fluff#bts fluff#yoongi smut
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Percy and Bad first times? I love these asks thank you!
I do not know why it took me approximately an eternity to write this but I finished it. I hope it will have been worth the wait. 😘
(Percy)
The moment Percy walked into your life you thought he was very much the egotistical rich kid. First impressions weren’t great as he concluded that wether or not you came from money or status, you rebelled against the social norms of high society. You two were polar opposites and anyone who said opposites attract; you were the proof against that claim for the longest time.
At the realisation you wouldn’t be leaving any time soon Percy tried to school you in manners for his sake correcting your behaviour and even words like you were some insolent child. You did not take this well and the argument that followed, unavoidable. Many things were said, some neither of you are proud of and you didn’t speak for days unless it were some snide remarks.
Then it came to a job to interact with high society people and you got to show Percy how wrong he was as you properly addressed the people, held your posture correctly and picked every word eloquently. Taken aback by your complete 180 in behaviour a conversation was in order. You got the pleasure telling Percy his ‘lessons’ had nothing to do with this and unlike some people you’d rather not be a pompous ass with a superiority complex like some people.
This lead Percy to dive into some research trying to find your name and family name, tapping into all resources at his disposal to figure you out telling himself you might be a threat if you were hiding things. He was not prepared to find out what happened with your family and faced you with the fact he found your past. The first one on one you had was Percy quite literally cornering you so you couldn’t avoid him. Admittedly not his proudest moment. You needed to talk so talk you did.
Telling Percy your story and trusting him with it might have been the first time you’ve told anyone since you left your home. In turn to set the record straight he told you what had happened with his own family. You came to the conclusion you’re not so different after all. A mutual understanding and trust formed between the two of you, though your arguments did not end with you disagreed on a matter. Rarely did you give the other the silent treatment and instead came to an agree-to-disagree conclusion if compromise was not an option. In time, they’d cease to be arguments all together and simply turn into conversations.
At this point you might even have considered yourselves friends. You found yourselves spending more time together. Percy was raised the so-mani-eth child extremely unlikely to be the heir of his family but with the tragedy that befell them, only he and his sister remained. You were raised to continue your family’s legacy but had lost everything. When Whitestone was returned to the surviving De Rolo’s you promised to give aide in any way you could.
Vox Machina, taken in a different direction you stayed behind with Cassandra. You took no titles or lands no matter how many times, Cassandra and the council offered them. In his time away from you and his home he came to realise he’d begun missing your company, the conversations and having to be the smart and semi-responsible one of the group. Not only that, you’ve been a rock in the current that’s his chaos and with you away he feels he’s more likely to fall to the temptations placed in front of him. Proof of that; the trip to the city of Dis.
When this realisation hits Percy he’ll take any opportunity to spend more time with you. He doesn’t inject himself into your daily life but any time there’s a reason for him to be present he’ll take it. Him coming clean about the contract and handing it to you for safekeeping trusting you that no matter the circumstance you’ll never give it to him, you absolutely go apeshit on him. How could he be so damn stupid. A deal with a devil? Really?! All the what ifs… It made you realise your anger and disappointment came from a place of affection.
You made Percy promise he’d tell you when he’s thinking of doing something stupid he’ll tell you before doing the thing. Before he leaves for another adventure or comes back from one you’ll go on a walk, have dinner or just relax somewhere. Sometimes you’ll talk, sometimes sit in silence, whatever you feel like in that moment. You’d begun holding hands, hugging or a kiss to the cheek before departure or upon return, tiny displays of affection.
You were informed Percy had died, but as Grog told you, he got better. Reasonably so you freaked out but you were also aware of the risk of the adventurer lifestyle, more accurately the lifestyle of someone with enemies like Percy. That didn’t mean you didn’t feel like your heart just shattered in that moment. You cared for Percy until he recovered. It’s the first time you truly saw Percy weak, not of mind wavering to a pact with an entity or the likes, but mentally done.
Percy first realised he might hold more than affections for you when you promised him that you’d always have one more thing for him to do. No matter how messed up the world looked, there’d always be a place for him with you. He’s not stupid enough to think this doesn’t come out of a deep affection of your own but he can’t be too sure it’s love either. It’s obvious you care for him, and maybe you do love him but are you in love with him? He’s not sure. Is he in love with you? He’s unsure. He knows he cares about you immensely and loves you just as much and that’s enough for him.
Percy is a man of impulse. This comes in especially handy when someone lacks courage to do something. He doesn’t approach you for your first ‘official’ date. It was just like any other outing you’d gone on or time you spent together except for the fact Percy asked you out, letting slip it was a date. If just asking you this was already so difficult he definitely would need a bottle of courage or two admitting his feelings out loud.
You’re clever enough and know how to read people enough that you weren’t oblivious to Percy’s recent changes in behaviour towards you. You were also clever enough to place them and, when courage fails you’re not one to beat around the bush. You called him out and half fearing you’d turn him down, he was proven the opposite when you pulled him in by the ascot and kissed him. Surprising but not unwanted.
Seeing no need in defining your relationship for others, you also didn’t ease the others into this development. Watching you kiss Percy passionately before he was off on another adventure leaving everyone around very surprised. So surprised they missed the mark on Keyleth’s transport via plants. Bombarded with questions about when or how this happened Percy didn’t want to indulge them with answers and instead spent more time with you.
Of course you had shared sleeping spaces before. You weren’t strangers to sharing a bed but you can comfortably say, it became much more comfortable after you first shared your bed together as lovers in the afterglow, waking up like a sweaty mess. Sharing baths after became the norm to freshen up and relax. The perfect excuse to spend more time together and have everyone else gagging after the look you’d share when asked why you missed breakfast… and lunch…
It took a long while before you first found yourselves able to exchange I love you’s but when danger came knocking at your door and you were thrown back into the fight for Tal’Dorei with Vox Machina’s allies it was now or never. Seeing things go south you got the pleasure of teaming up with a brass dragon to kick some undead ass.
“Before we both do something incredibly stupid I want you to know I love you.” Simple and efficient and to the point.
“I am tempted to hold these words for myself until after we’ve saved the world. Call it motivation to stay alive but since you made such an effort already. I love you too, dear.” Asshole. What did you expect. The feeling was mutual.
(Caduceus)
The first time you met Caduceus you’d killed someone in not too far out from Shady Creek. The down side, you killed someone important. They came after you, you protected yourself but then you had a body to deal with. You heard about the cursed place, and decided to just bury it there. You didn’t expect to find a dopey pink haired firbolg to be living at the heart of the place. He was surprisingly helpful in burying the body you brought to the point you were almost sure you’d be buried right next to your victim soon. Luckily for you you were proven wrong.
You couldn’t really return to Shady Creek and it’s not like you had much of a home there so you wandered the forests hunting and gathering for food and warmth at night avoiding the cursed places and dangers as much as you could. You couldn’t and returned to the safety of the Blooming Grove. So you made a deal, you’d stay with the firbolg, help him out at his graveyard, cemetery, whatever it is and he’d give you a place to sleep at night.
You resorted to staying inside the small temple sleeping on the floor but soon enough, Caduceus invited you to just take one of the beds in the house and stick around instead of leave at dawn to find food, removing some weeds, watering some plants, and return at dusk. No more wandering you fell into more domestic tasks solidifying your roommate life with the man. It had been a while since either of you were in (good) company so you appreciated anything that could talk and wasn’t trying to murder you.
In your time spent with Caduceus you heard bits and pieces about his family but what didn’t add up for you were the beds and belongings he didn’t touch or did so with care to keep them clean. When you got the courage to ask Caduceus told you the story of Clay, Stone and Dust and how his family left to save the Grove and perhaps even the Savalirwood as a whole. It felt odd to actually talk to someone about them that’s not him to himself. He appreciated your compassion, telling him that they’d come back home and with the stories he told you hope you’d get to meet them one day.
Caduceus’ expert prepping of meals left you wanting to be able to do the same. Of course he was happy to teach you and with his guidance you cooked your first meal. It wasn’t the best but definitely beat anything you could make on the road by yourself. The spices are to die for. You found yourself falling into the habit of cooking together; a nice way to end the day.
You were having a particularly tough day and ready to just curl up and let the world consume you, there was no hiding from your friendly firbolg roommate. He knew what’s up but gave you a chance to come to him. You didn’t so he came to you. He didn’t say anything, just sat next to you with a cup of tea, set another one in front of you and stayed quiet until you were ready to talk or get back to your business if you didn’t. He wasn’t going to pry in personal matters unless you asked him.
An encounter with a nasty creature you were unable to scare off and away had Caduceus pinned to the ground. With enough courage and some knowledge of physical combat you managed to get the creature off and injure it enough so it fled. Pulling Caduceus to his feet you were engulfed in a hug with a thank you. As is common knowledge Caduceus hugs are the best hugs you found yourself asking for more. Caduceus wasn’t at all opposed to keep this a thing as he’d always enjoyed hugs.
With the two of you growing closer, living together you decided to sit down and talk about what you had and where it was going as neither of you wanted to accidentally lead on the other or set expectations that could not be met. Neither of you were looking for romantic love or romance at all. Some might refer to you as bestest of friends or life partners but that didn’t really seem to fit. You’re just you and Caduceus is him and you liked hugging and spending time together, going through the motions of life and that’s all you needed.
When the Nein came along looking for help, Caduceus offered for you to stay behind, the Blooming Grove was just as much your home as it was his but you went along anyway. You’d never left the forest. Never travelled south either but many adventures found their way to you and you’d be spending them with you with Caduceus through all the ups and downs. The Nein got so used to your dynamic they never questioned it. It was just something that existed and was happening and quite frankly, one of the few normal things about you and the firbolg.
When the day came you found the Clay family you got to be there for Caduceus as he had for you. Meeting them for the first time they lived up to the stories you’d been told. The Clays were very happy to meet Caduceus’ friends but upon learning about your connection to him they were relieved he hadn’t been all alone for all those years they were gone and had some company. They offered you to come back with them but just like Caduceus, there was still some unfinished business and these people, the Mighty Nein still needed your help.
Then, when everything came to a close, you returned to the Blooming Grove and spent the rest of your days there living content. It had been your home and would continue to be your home. The Clays became your family and for the first time in forever you could see yourself content at home leaving with Caduceus to travel at times but always return to that little spot in the Savalirwood.
#critrole x reader#critical role x reader#mighty nein x reader#mighty nein#caduceus x reader#caduceus clay#critical role#percival x reader#percy x reader#vox machina x reader#vox machina
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So. Some of you may be wondering why we haven’t written a whole ton about the secondaries or what have you. Here’s the reason: we were waiting for them to end before we really dug into the problems we were noticing. We felt that it was only fair to wait for the routes to finish so that we had an understanding of the writers’ vision. Who knew, we thought, maybe they would see the problems themselves and course correct, maybe they are building to something we can’t quite see yet and these issues will have actual payoff, maybe-
In light of Muriel and Lucio’s endings, and the general mess that has dominated Portia’s route for a year plus now, we are breaking our silence. We are actually going to talk about this shit show.
The fandom at large has talked about a bunch of issues with the secondaries but for me, the cardinal sin, the thing that really all the issues lead back to, is this: the writers lost sight of the tarot themes which so strongly defined and held together the primary routes. Let me explain.
The primary routes each center around three thematic cores:
The Love Interest’s Major Arcana and its Reversed/Upright meanings
The MC’s Fool’s Journey, both how it can go right and how it can go wrong
A question about the MC’s identity and their relationship to said identity
Asra’s route asks: Who was the MC? How does the MC navigate a past they cannot and will not remember? What do they owe a past they cannot remember? How do they handle the revelations of what Asra, Nadia, Julian, etc did? How do you right the past? Can you?
Nadia’s route asks: Who is the MC? The MC has no past. Are they the Fool only? Are they actually the same person they were? How can they tell? Who are they, really? Are they an imposter? No one can answer these questions for them.
Julian’s route asks: Who will the MC become? How does the MC see their future? Is there anything worth fighting for for that future? What will become of them and their loved ones?
Now, if you notice, these themes are expertly woven throughout the primaries. Asra’s past dominates his route, Nadia is also missing memories and trying to construct her identity both with her family and with Vesuvia, and Julian’s fear of the future drives his flailing for control. Asra has to learn to take a broader view of his actions to get his Upright Ending, Nadia has to learn to trust herself and those around her for hers, and Julian has to learn how to let go for his. These lessons are the issues their cards stand for. The primaries are so dang elegant and delicate in their handlings of theme it is honestly awe-inspiring.
Thematically, the secondary routes have completely lost their hearts. First of all, the MC does not have strong, core questions which need to be answered. They just don’t. I suppose the writers did not want to retread old territory (which is weird considering how tightly bound the primaries are; it really tricks you into thinking you’re living the same events but from different angles depending on your route) but they did not replace the old with anything new. Muriel’s route is, on the surface, about discovering and owning his past, the good and the bad. Why not tie MC’s self-discovery to that story? Or they could have taken the angle that Muriel’s route is about convincing him to be present and active in the world while MC builds an identity for themself outside of Asra, the shop, and the memories they cannot retrieve. Why not tie the investigation themes running through Portia’s early route back to MC and their past? Portia has the unique angle of being as in the dark as MC about all of this, why not discover the past together? And for goodness’ sake, Lucio has no future when his route begins, why not tie that to his need for growth, responsibility, and MC’s own future between the Fool, the Devil, or something mortal and in between?
Secondly, the routes lost their tarot backbone. We have a primer on how to get specific endings for each LI and it still holds, but the writers did not follow through on the thematic coherence of each secondary. The Hermit is looking for something, be it perspective, insight, a solution to a problem, whatever. The key here is that the Hermit must find or learn what they are searching for, this thing must change their understanding of the world, and finally, they must bring this lesson back to the world from which they retreated. Can someone please enlighten me as what exactly Muriel learns then teaches the world around him? Nothing Muriel learns from Morga, MC, or even the Hermit ties back into anything. The Devil warns that you are out of control and exerting a lot of manipulative, destructive behavior on the world around you. It asks you to take responsibility for yourself and your actions. So can someone tell me why Lucio’s route actively avoids any interaction or reflection on two of Lucio’s biggest victims: Muriel and Julian? Why does the route only try to make amends with the “easier” of his victims in the cast? The Star is first and foremost the card of clarity, the light at the end of the tunnel. Perseverance, if you will. Yet Portia’s route has been the muddiest of the trio; the writers drop the investigation aspect of her route in favor just handing her and MC information they could have easily found and muddying the waters with Tasya (she blows up the palace but it’s all okay bc she has a secret daughter Julian never thought to bring up or mention) and the complete removal of the Devil as antagonist.
So that leaves just the Fool’s Journey trying to hold this stool up with only one leg. And well...it doesn’t go well. At best, the secondary route books pay the barest surface level homage to the themes of the individual cards. At worst, they ignore the cards completely. Muriel's Moon book has nothing to do with illusions or delusions or lies or even an Alice in the Looking Glass upside down world. Portia's back half is a complete and utter mess, starting with her Temperance book being so badly mangled that Muriel's aftermath book does it better. Lucio's route too bungles the Tower and the Star. There just isn't enough here to carry the routes alone.
Add to the core loss the loss of intertextuality. The primary routes are very good, even great but they too do have their moments and mistakes. What helps strengthen them when the cores stumble is how the trio is woven together. Things you learn in Asra's route can inform the way you play Nadia's, for example. Julian's route informs what is going on in Asra's route and slots some missing puzzle pieces together. Nadia's route tells you of the power struggles she is facing and informs the other two routes' handling of Julian and his trial. On and on, the three routes support each other because they are built out of the same basic plot beats, just tackled in very different ways. Now, the writers are allowed to try and write whatever they want. They apparently wanted to be more experimental and less tied down to an overarching plot with the three secondaries. Okay, fine, they are allowed to do that. The problem is that they sacrificed one of the key strengths of the primary trio and didn't replace said strength with anything else. They also, on some level, harmed the very premise of the game, which is that only the player's choices and route selected change the overall plot. Instead of feeling like legitimate possibilities or offshoots of the same timeline/plot, the secondaries feel almost like Arcana AUs. The secondaries throw out all relations to the primaries and each other as quickly as possible and for what?
It is probably the height of arrogance to suggest fixes for works whose behind the scenes I do not know. At the same time, some small, obvious changes could have salvaged Muriel and maybe Lucio's endings (rip Portia). Instead of having the Hermit appear as a disappointing cameo, why not have him say something cryptic to Muriel, then have MC start trying to seal the Devil. Then let Muriel use his forget me mark to cloak MC and hide them from the Devil's attacks. Protecting MC by hiding them from Lucio, keeping him focused on Muriel, seems to me a simple third solution between Muriel's desire to run and his desire to never fight again. It lets him stand up to Lucio and let him have it while holding onto who Muriel has become. The Reversed End would have MC try to draw Lucio's attention at some point, disrupting the sealing, and eventually leading to Muriel killing the Devil. With Lucio's Upright End, I just have to ask: why doesn't MC fully claim the power of the Fool instead of the Devil? We don't need the other Arcana involved in this fight; we have three routes that demonstrate that. Just have MC pull Scout into the conflict, then have Lucio tell MC he believes in them, then add his power to the mix. You got yourself a full Fool who leaves Scout guarding the realm until they and Lucio's mortal bodies fail and they return to the realm to be together forever. Boom, you're done, you can even add some ambiguous lines so that players can decide how happy their MC is with this arrangement, send me the check.
Here is the bottom line. Our group is full of aroace, and several combinations therein, individuals. We are the last group who should have gotten into a dating sim of all things. But the Arcana did something with the primaries that was special; they wrote a compelling plot with dazzling lore, complex characters, and strong themes wrapped up in a dating sim bow. The writers know better and we know they know better. I do not know what happened with the secondaries, especially around books 10-11, which is where minor issues slowly start spiraling into major ones, but it is clear that Nix Hydra needed some more planning before they released these routes. Hopefully they will learn.
TL;DR: Nix Hydra fired their tarot consultants about eighteen months ago and it has wrecked their secondary routes until they were just embarrassments. They never intended for the secondary routes to even exist and once they had to make them, they scrambled and threw out everything that made the primaries work.
- Mod Telos
#the arcana#The Arcana Game#arcana game#arcana game meta#arcana meta#arcana discourse#the arcana lucio#Lucio route#the arcana muriel#muriel route#the arcana portia#portia route#lucio morgasson#lucio montag#muriel#portia devorak#The Wheel Turns
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