#but I am taking a personal day for shits and gigs so it might help | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hanzi83 · 1 year

Text

I Wanted to Write A Blog as I was Falling Asleep.

Whenever big events are promoted, I tend to have to memorize points for the podcast which never really goes the way I want it, since I am scatterbrained a lot of the time and then when I recap shit, I tend to add a bit of what the discourse is and sometimes writing shit down doesn’t always equal a good reading, especially if it is days after and I have gotten my frustration out, so I did want to vent about this shit in written form even though I kind of talked about it on podcast. But there is something more direct with writing it, instead of just consuming news and hot takes and then sporadically letting it out of my head at weird times at the night since I cannot sleep during regular hours, then I am left with accumulated mental stress from personal mental trauma that never goes away, plus the added bonus that everything is designed to just implode, and maybe people connected know where the future is headed, maybe on some level I might know from the “dream world” since it feels like in the dream society, shit is seeping out from there to the surface, and I figure maybe some advanced shit is being done mentally to give me the “confidence” to give out my predictions of the grandview, because on the surface, I don’t have secret knowledge nor do I know shit for a fact, but when I have seen how shit has played out, I feel in an overall sense I have been right about the trajectory where the world is going, especially with the world of entertainment, since that now has always had ties to political shit, but now it is like the 2 worlds have blended, and I think the actual entertainment and the products have become background noise because the real storylines are done for social media, and now the people who cover shit, and I include sports entertainment personalities who are just “random” accounts that are looking for gigs and to socially climb up. Most people are “shocked” by Vince returning and taking back power, it would not be a surprise to anyone if you didn’t always work hard for the last 20 plus years that this is a dumbed down villain, who doesn’t know what a burrito is, or he doesn’t know what anything outside of wrestling is, yet he hates wrestling. I feel like when you are at a powerful level, you know you are going to take L’s throughout your career, but you don’t know what kind of connections these people have, it doesn’t help that we make it seem like entertainment institutions abide by the same morale and rules that mom and pop shops abide why. It is a problem with all entertainment actually. I know I am an irrelevant podcast and blog and account, but I am still allowed to live, for right now at least, instead of letting me leave this planet since I have no interest in how further right shit is going, but who is gonna give a shit what I have to say. I think at this point, since important people in different entertainment sections focus on what I do, since they monitor and keep an eye on everyone, I think my shit will probably piss them off and then they have the power to reach the masses and get them even more infatuated with tropes that I dislike, and people who are compromised double down on their rhetoric, hell they have the ability to infect people close to you to buy into being elitist scumbags who want more power. I think the exploitation I had to deal with and people who used to be close have profited, and now as the years go on more, you are seeing them become worse, never admitting to any wrongdoing, and you hope they secretly read this shit so it wakes them up, but even they will rub my face in shit that they are more popular and they have had a history of trying to always take from me. It is not just a personal problem, every day I see more sports entertainment accounts become the worst versions of themselves and just be performative about the system, they need to hold onto their credibility when the jig is up about the entire sports entertainment shit that everyone is basically compromised. Even when you call out someone like Vince, it is controlled narratives that never dig deeper, only stuff that has circulated on internet chat rooms since the 90’s, and now those are coming true. I knew people were not really for the truth when they would focus on Vince solely and act like other people in that inner circle didn’t know anything about what Vince did or has done, when it goes so much further, especially when this industry is a mafia industry, like on surface Triple H has had shit he has covered up and people have spoke about it, so people hung onto this last grasp of hope that Vince was actually gone, and not that this has been a long con to solidify him as the ultimate villain, like other public figures and powerful people who now exist on social media for the corrupt shit they have done, with nothing happening to them because we are headed in an era where there will be a right leaning takeover of the world and some of the people who have done villainous shit and have political ties are now being exposed, because they did so in an era where it is close where they will never be held accountable, and it will be meant for the people to revolt.

So I was not shocked about the revelation of him being back. I always suspected and you can check the record on this from past streams or blogs etc, that I always felt that WWE and UFC always had a connection, there is this tactic I feel people like Vince or Howard Stern do, where they have a cult like entertainment program that has made them millions, but sooner or later they knew that there are people who hate them and will always be vocal about it, so if they used their power and resources to cosign something or have another project, it would be succeed to the masses because their names are stained, while they have a loyal following but in order for them to really be successful, they have to cosign shit under the table so people who enjoy the art of whatever they are doing can consume it and have a peace of mind that they are not consuming their shit, and you wouldn’t think so because you don’t see any of their stereotypical handprints on it, which is why the talking heads have to give you what you’re supposed to look out for to know they are involved with shit, the truth is you don’t know how smart these people are and that is not a compliment, I don’t see the words “smart” and “genius” as positive affirming words, they are neutral, because someone can be smart/genius and be the biggest piece of shit on the planet, but people can only hate villains if we reduce them to America’s dumbest criminal type villains who do comedic shit for the memes and nonstop engagement to be talked about. It feels like the shit we have consumed entertainment wise is manifested into becoming a real life reality show. I knew once Succession started, that it would be go to for the discourse because we are going to continue to live in an era where now every public figure in the political or media world will now have those similar dynamics, so we insist on looking at this shit by making up a reality show comedy version of the characters. And we love to think because we post on the internet that we are right about how these people are and expect people to think they are dangerous in some regard but then get mad at people in the wrestling media for not asking the right questions when bad faith actors know they are cogs in the system, like if someone like Vince is quite possibly someone who has committed atrocious acts, exploited people, may have covered up murder etc, again it is not proven officially but those things circulate online and they make enough documentaries where they want you to lean in that direction, then why doesn’t the villainous image you want for him ever include that he could be so dangerous that he could have people fucked with mentally and physically if they truly embarrassed them and asked a real question about the corruption, like if you have done evil shit and fucked up shit has been built upon in your industry then why can’t I assume you are a lot more dangerous than the shit advertised, like once someone lies about shit, people don’t believe them and I am supposed to believe he is only evil in this dumbed down way? But I hold MSM and alt media more accountable for not covering Vince’s shit, every affiliate of Trump got analyzed nonstop and were in the discourse to become caricatures, why didn’t any progressive media outlet “that is better than MSM” and if you don’t believe it, they will mention it every single time before they do their bullshit narratives with bullshit personalities, then why would you not even speculate on this wrestling to right wing politics pipeline that has been developed. You can’t say that is silly, look at how many pro wrestlers have run for office in some way, Big Dick Johnson is literally on Turning Point USA. Rick Steiner is on some school board and spewed anti trans shit, and WWE still has nothing to fucking say about it. They have him under a legends contract. It feels more people who have been let go from the company who have the same politics of the company are part of patriot groups, Q Anon, supporting anti trans rhetoric. Sometimes I wonder if it is supposed to be obvious that celebrities are now playing characters for social media and they will have different moments of rebranding since everything that exists, exists for documentaries, meaning the system will allow your mental and physical abuse go on if they can profit off it later on, like people are initiated into shit and we never focus on why people in the system, especially in entertainment are in these fucked up situations, but we insist on presenting them as regular people who live by regular rules.

So when I watched Raw, I knew discourse was happening but I was not aware of the discourse and “runsheet changes” that were being promoted until I caught up live when watching the show on DVR, and watching it in a bubble, it didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary, despite people saying Triple H made shit better etc and some things got better but there are still watered down acts that have shit creative, even if there are some positive changes to some degree, but it seemed like a typical episode of Raw, then I saw the discourse and what was being presented, low morale, script changes, viral photos of the production team getting multiple notes, Seth being told during the break he was not gonna talk etc, it is like they script the discourse to make it more chaotic. For the first time in a while AEW shill are on top of the world, and thing is if this were 2 years ago, maybe they would have a leg to stand on but in the last year and half, they have showed they are not as organic or genuine, they bent over backwards for another billionaire and piled on people who they wanted to get trashed online, but they did it with edgelord rhetoric and cool aesthetic because they tweet about which people in the industry they want to fuck, but then when CM Punk “left” they forced their anti establishment rhetoric and analyzed the show and helped book discourse even if it meant undercutting the program and talent involved to spare the ego of a industry plant in Phil, that is just my opinion, but now that he is coming back, now suddenly they are pro AEW again because they are getting their way because they want to force rebooted attitude era fetish shit and they are not motivated in everyone becoming bigger or building bigger legacies, they want every big match given away every week because they benefit off the discourse, they don’t know shit about booking when attitude era and everything after is what they fucking consumed, people will say “That era made so much money” but the era where you built up to big matches with characters people were invested into, made a lot more money and had more people watching these big matches, you should be able to combine the good of all eras, but my point is that I don’t trust shill accounts that ruined other people’s lives, they would get the white supremacist trolls to shit on if if my opinions about their favorites were getting out of control, they can’t be as obvious about it because they need to punish me by making me irrelevant online so I give up and don’t tweet shit out, but because I am losing followers and no one interacts, I feel more motivated to put my thoughts out there, and they still get triggered even if they are getting their wish of my suppression and mental torment, where it is even affecting my personal life. Talk about people taking entertainment too seriously huh? Of course I can’t officially prove it right, and no one would believe me, but these people believe I should not even express this shit or vent out my frustrations with what this entertainment has done to people’s minds and it is gonna be the end of us. This is just wrestling, now amplify that between other entertainment, and now the political figures are just as much entertainment, we are fucking debating if AOC has a burner account that tweets out sexually explicit shit. I know I go off on tangents but all of this bullshit to basically say that I don’t even trust the anti WWE accounts because they limit internet shit all the time, whenever anyone says “WWE did good things when they were forced into making the decision because of us” like they really don’t know what they are doing, making the amount of money and having the amount of power they do, you really think they don’t know how to work people for real? I am just saying if you are gonna hate villains then hate them for the legit power they have, not this dumbed down bullshit. No matter what people think or say, other companies you watch, are permitted to being there, which is why I never gave a shit if I watched some of the WWE shit, because no matter what you are watching, there is WWE shit within it, every promotion has to do their tropes of being discourse company and it keeps repeating every era, and at this point being an internet fan is just as much pretentious as the “dumb marks” they tend to make fun of or they think they are better than. Like instead of hating these people they think it is the ultimate dunk to go “CAN YOU BELIEVE TRIPLE H CAME OUT AND SAID NOTHING WAS GONNA CHANGE THEN THERE WERE 15 FUCKING CHANGES TO THE PROGRAM LMAO” and then changes happened, like yeah that is pretty much the job of the villain now to say shit where the opposite is being said online which somehow become the outlet where everything is true apparently. That promo was so for the purpose of featuring that in a future documentary down the line, you want to know how I can tell even the “rebellious” talent shtick is a work, like now people are pretending that WWE would really take away someone’s Dana Brookes sign, because now being screwed over by your boss is a new character arch, not that they didn’t deal with anything bad but it feels like a new marketing trick, and it may have meant more 10 years ago, even 20 years ago, but now, it feels as watered down the product itself.

Now this is where TK is gonna look the billionaire baby face again, let me guess, he will bring in Jay White, he will bring back CM Punk, he will bring in Mercedes, and suddenly the complaints of the booking will go down even though there was nothing too bad about the booking the last 8 months, maybe some standard modern wrestling booking that might seem filler, but AEW didn’t have the best creative since their inception all the time, not everything was hitting, and I just feel they amplified the worked shit online and made it detrimental to their product and repeating the same talking points over and over and I think booking the product like shit to some degree with obvious booking errors, and the only compelling shit they could come up with the online discourse is the trope of “this person wants to leave” and if they do leave, TK probably gets his shills to discredit them and downplay them, in fact there were some unsavory rumors about what some female talents had to deal with, the shills helped cover that up from the discourse and yet they are some credible experts on this Vince shit. Instead of making the changes to the safety and other shit they know they can do, the system rather create another obvious situation where people have to then state the obvious, you can just book women properly, you are capable, but let me guess we are gonna dumb it down so Mercedes can come in and save it instead of just having a strong division and then the added bonus of her coming. It gets tiring being this invested in the discourse, and then look at the booking errors in the political world, it is good to see political analysts being disappointed with booking decisions, oh you didn’t the villain Trump in prison just yet like you have been promising, well wrestling fans have been dealing with the villains always winning in the end for the longest time, it was the attitude era when Trump did his political thing, like much how fans eventually got sick of Austin coming out for 5 different segments every week, it is the same deal with Trump, everything has been relating to him, and now people who were getting this high off this becoming the political discourse for the last several years, how much money was made from phony coverage from MSM and alt media over things that revolved around Trump, and now the those same attitude era tricks aren’t working as much so they need to get more ridiculous with the political storylines like how the Ruthless Aggression was. It feels like everything is designed to just implode and people are playing different roles to facilitate their part. Everyone is more concerned with becoming a scripted character and I have to dumb it down to be on their level because as sophisticated this shit seems on some level, people are constantly limiting the narratives of all this shit and don’t want to face the reality that your heroes and your favorite institutions are not on the up and up and they have more power and now the “experts online” who are controlled cogs will only call out shit to a certain point until they get their gigs and the power they want before showing you what kind of horrible pieces of shit they are. They make everything a fucking sports entertainment storyline, they think because they are more cynical it makes them more genuine and legit, they would not want to disclose they have been reduced to being the shit disturber that is allowed to be in the castle while pissing on the outside rather than being outside pissing in, they make it look like the opposite and then you have the overly positive ones who can’t wait to partake in acknowledging Roman Reigns at a press conference, some of these people who can pull off their social media character, because they get propped up at the top level all the time, they think they are much more interesting than they are, when they get on camera, it is clear there is a social media team that write their jokes etc, look at the comedy stylings of that libs of tiktok woman Raya who is now doing stuttering John level man on the street shit where she gets a confrontation with public figures etc, it doesn’t feel genuine and she doesn’t have the charisma to really pull it off but because she caters to the right wing and helped manufacture consent for more anti trans shit, so it is okay for her to be this comedic figure. And a lot of the right wing and post left accounts online are in the same category to me. It is clear who is allowed to be propped up and confident in what they say and do are permitted and protected people. I am glad I didn’t reduce myself to end up going to the far right, and you read my conspiracies 10 years ago, you would think I am a prime candidate to be someone duped in, trust me the system tried to find ways to lure me in that direction.

I waited for the last decade or so for Vince’s exposition and I can’t say I am into how they are laying out the creative of this, they had to book the guy who have a fucking shitty mushtache, that he probably smells like possum piss. It is not even real life anymore, and the closer we are getting to it and when it fully does show you what he is going to do and what he will become, I think I can maybe put this entire fandom behind me. I can’t stick around for another company becoming a discourse company and it is gonna just reboot and repeat shit and I don’t think I can handle another decade of that. I already get sick of official revisionist history and then the online revisionist history is out of control, and then you really don’t know what is the truth anymore, everything starts out underground but it turns out the underground is funded by the mainstream, it is like ECW basically, like something that is known as rebellious even though they were probably always funded by the WWE types, while the WWE/MSM types act like they don’t want it to exist even though they are gonna incorporate their shit into the product, then the handpicked ones from the underground get their MSM gigs and the others who won’t advance any further got sold a movement built up on lies and they will not be paid or get any protection from the system, it is basically the same cycle with a lot of the social media narratives, all these alt media hosts who want to play the role of Paul Heyman from the 90’s then end up being on Tucker Carlson’s show and rebranding their image and we will think they used to think they were rebels when they most likely are not. And it feels like the joke is on me that I have to constantly see and relive these tropes every decade that I still manage to live through. I know I will give in because more craziness is gonna happen because of this Endeavor deal with WWE. I somehow figured there would be connections with UFC since a lot of their characters now have pro wrestler characters, they planted those roots with someone like Brock going there, I always figured that when someone “leaves” WWE they are still part of the family, like if they are not supposed to succeed, they won’t get opportunities and will be blacklisted and have no support system, but since it is a mafia in my opinion, it is like the performers are always kicking up to Vince etc but they can’t officially be tied to WWE to succeed because if WWE cosigns Batista’s endeavors then people would despise him, but him having the image of going viral for criticizing the WWE will be seen as not giving a fuck. And when it continuously gets perpetuated in this narrative shit,. I even debated writing this and I am not even feeling it but I did waste time on this so I might as well publish it, but be forewarned that I will probably try to write another one where I am gonna end up repeating the same shit, and then I become part of the problem. It is hard to escape because there are people who get sent to entice me with dangling me to still continue to watch nonstop and my presence in the fandom is needed, yet they still continuously punish me for having my own narratives, or my own ideas and not dumbing it down and I am not playing by a script and you can tell which people do because once you start making a bigger point, they immediately start to show aggression because they hate that I made a good point that goes above their point and the bigger you are with status, people look at me as someone who is lower than them so the fact they are even being slightly nicer towards me, I am supposed to be so thankful because I am normally treated like shit. I am tired of having to be beaten mentally by people, and because entertainment has played a role in shaping people’s minds, like if I decided not to watch this shit, you have to deal with people who consume it and make it their entire personality who literally terrorize people with that shit, and since entertainment has political ties, it is like everything is trying to get a nonstop reaction from you and when this shit goes 24/7 and no time off from this, this is making us fucking insane, now add incentive of why people want to be propped up as a character, and you have more recipes for disasters, different cliques wondering why people act different and rebrand, like there aren’t gimmick changes on the horizon. It makes no fucking sense. More people want to be characters and all of it doesn’t have any fucking meaning to it.

I don’t know what the future is gonna be with this company or industry. I can make guesses, I wonder if it forces a revolution, do the elitists run amok and let us know how evil they are and they have no problem with it, because they will remain in power and it is like an NWO level thing going on, people say they are opposed to it and they need to stop the evil of Hulk Hogan, Kevin Nash and Scott Hall, but the more the heels win and then more people in the system who see the heels winning and overcoming despite all of us condemning them, but then they end up joining the NWO and before you know it, we will get 6 or 7 incarnations of the thing, people will start to get amazed by the fact these villains are so evil, but they are functioning and thriving in the system better than before, it is easy for people to see this as a reason why it is better to join them than be against them, and it feels I keep seeing that more and more. It becomes disheartening and it makes me just say that I am ready to leave this place, I would say I have outgrown all of this, but I am 5’6. But it is getting to the point where I don’t want to care about any of this shit anymore but it is one of the last things I had in my life that has been constant in my life since 3 years old, I used to distract from my shitty existence, and nothing has changed, and now with the Stern element and what that did, and people I know being close with people in that industry, it is hard to get this out of my life when they have ensured that I will have to have face rubbed into shit. I am at the point where I don’t give a shit about vindication, you can do that when I am dead and exploit the shit. I don’t see a bright future head and i feel everyone is becoming a caricature of what they once were, it hurts more coming alt media figure heads because they made it seem like they are credible and calling out the system and then get mad if you expected more from them, it is like why root for anyone to make it if they are all gonna be corrupted and morally bankrupt, like entertainment and politics are nonstop liars showing they lie, and now I am supposed to root for more people to become liars, like if you have a superpower in convincing and manipulating people, why am I am not allowed to think they would use their superpowers for unethical shit? I am tired of it but my natural inclination is to vent then go back into being back in the thick of things, it is probably no one cares when I vent, because I get sucked back into this shit, and I wish I could find a way to program my mind not to ever care about this shit, but more shit will transpire. I will never be happy here. I need to fucking leave this planet as soon as possible. I don’t even get why people with power would let me remain here, you already took everything away from me mentally and ensured I will never have freedom, like I am already irrelevant and defeated, what more else do you want from me? Do I have to be alive to see people close to me turn into complete heels, it is not about bad enough I was put on the backburner and having to take mental abuse from people but now you want me at my already worst, and have me finally lose my fucking mind. I don’t see any way out of this, they would love for me to attempt suicide because the pain hurts so much mentally, but I know it would be a botched attempt and then I would be even more in their control, I am supposed to lose control, so they bring it back to Stern days so then people see me at the current state and go “Oh look he actually did lose his mind” because they would want that perpetuated and manifested. Anyways, this blog was not that great, but maybe I should write more not so great blogs and make my enemies read it and feel they wasted more time reading it and they will get angered, when some of you have boastful connections and aesthetic which should be fulfilling enough, this is one of those blogs that if you are creative and you’re worried if higher ups are impressed with it, this would shed all doubt that I might suck at this, you have to see the proof for yourself, you need to get your teacher friends on the horn and ask to grade it, this was not one of those blogs. I needed it to get out there. I don’t know why. Listen to the experts, I am a big dumb conspiracy guy rambling with run on sentences about some 80 year old billionaire in Vince and how he runs illuminati, well the wrestling one at least, I think I got bored halfway through, or am I doing a worked shoot to purposefully undercut it by making this a discourse blog and we are just gonna go in a loop nonstop for the next several years and decades. Maybe even centuries, I am passing out as I write this and I am gonna post it. Fuck it all to hell.

#Vince McMahon VinceMcMahon Trump WWE Hanzi 2023 Bipolar Coaster BipolarCoaster fandom entertainment

0 notes

dzpenumbra · 1 year

Text

11/28/22

And... it's 4 AM. This time I got sucked into Twitch, and honestly... again... it wasn't worth it. I swear, it never is. Like... there was a point where I was actually laughing out loud which was absolutely a good way to spend my time tonight, but it was like... laughing hard for one 20 minute bit in like... 5 hours of watching. I don't think that evens out. But god, I'm just starving for normal human interactions, so much that I'll just tolerate that.

I spent a good chunk of the day editing my old Session raw recordings from October. I was documenting my progress of learning how to skate in Session on Hardcore mode. I planned to make a highlight reel. Today, I clipped all that, rendered them and cleared up like 100 gigs of hard drive space by deleting the raw files. Now I have space for Rimworld... and I'm a bit back and forth about it, as I said the other day? Maybe yesterday? I'm a bit lost in time.

I don't know if I want to just delete the 7 hour playthrough and start over - because there's no sound and the last session didn't record for god knows how long because my hard drive was full. It's hard to part with them when it's not on the story's terms, when it's my fuck up. Like a technical problem or something. So I guess I'll figure that out tomorrow. I have bigger things to talk about tonight.

I had an intense conversation with my mom about my dad. And... it's getting a bit too overwhelming for me. Like... I'm not a therapist. For decades I would try and try and try to be there for people, and I was. I would shoulder their burdens and let them just dump whatever onto me and I'd just process that shit for them. ... I mean, I can't process that for them, but I'd just like... mop up their emotions after they vented and they'd just not deal with their problems and just drink in the catharsis. I thought I was helping. But once I was made aware of how I'm a much more sensitive person than most, I started to realize that... well... first off... none of these people are offering this in return for me. At all. Why? Because my feelings are too strong for them, that's been the most common answer. They're scared or intimidated by them, and the prospect of taking them on. Here's the contradiction, the weird one. They don't want to take on my stress and support me the way I supported them because of my sensitivity, and yet they don't hesitate to dump stress on me despite my sensitivity. And then I realized, I was giving them too much credit. Credit that they were actually considering how any of that shit affected me at all, or that they even knew me, honestly.

Okay, well I don't want to talk about my dad or that thing with my mom, it wasn't bad it was just a bit much for me and I'll be vocal about it later. But what really put it over the edge was... getting a phone call. I got a call that I... for some reason thought was a telemarketer or something? I had no idea what to expect, who it might be. I can't stress this enough - I do not get phone calls. Even texts. It's just not something that happens in my life. If my phone is ringing, it's either my mom, a telemarketer, grubhub or a vet/doctor. So I see this phone ringing as I'm getting my socks on getting ready to pick up my food delivery... and I just assume it's... okay, welcome to NerdVille - Bolivar. I know this dude's name because every time this guy gets my delivery (and that's pretty often) I start cracking up because I want to do a montage thing of screengrabs of his GPS car driving all over the city and call it "Bolivar's Travels". And I think it's fucking hilarious and cool. ANYWAY. I thought it was him calling to let me know the food was here, they do that sometimes. I could not have been more wrong.

The person who called me. Was my old "friend" from high school. I'm really struggling to actually say the words. She was my... best friend. In like late junior to senior year. She was not a good friend. But she was social, and she introduced me to people, and we'd go on adventures. She got me regularly smoking cigarettes and weed. She would pick me up at my house in her ratty old car "Smoky" and we'd go cruise around and smoke a shit ton of weed and Marb 27's and listen to music and look for people to chill with. She kinda treated me like garbage, and fucked me up pretty bad.

I might as well vent this shit now, because I don't wanna carry this for too long. Big gigantic trigger warnings here, because I'm kinda just letting traumas out to breathe a bit here, just a heads up, I put the tag thing on but I just want to be considerate. She was supposed to do mushrooms with me the first time I did them, we ate them together and she took me to a Friendly's right when they were kicking in, then she fucking left and abandoned me there. Like... I could've gotten arrested. And I somehow miraculously ended up at my crush's house. And I had a big crush on this girl. And she invited some dude over, I guess to like... help her supervise or make her feel safe since she was alone with me or something? Like I'm threatening at all, I just wanted to look at her art and flirt or something, I was a fucking virgin on mushrooms, I would never even know where to start with hooking up with her, it wasn't even on my radar. She had bunk beds in her room and she got me into the top bunk and she and the dude went into the lower bunk and either I had a really vivid panic attack or they hooked up right underneath me while I was tripping. And that scarred me, because I've always been developmentally pretty far behind other people, especially when it came to anything having to do with sexuality, so... that really messed with my head. So, that ended that crush pretty quick... And bravo to my "best friend" for taking me to and then ditching me at a crowded restaurant.

She also tried to get me to "lose my virginity" by getting me really fucked up, locking me in a dorm room with a mutual friend and having her try to "seduce" me. Aka assault me. And she did, and that's all I'm gonna say about that.

She also invited me to live with her and her crackhead boyfriend (oh don't worry, I'm sure she was a crackhead, too) in Colorado, so I flew halfway across the country by myself. My first flight. Alone. Met her there, lived with her for like 3 weeks in Denver. Then she started fighting with her boyfriend (who barely socialized with me at all) and decided she was fed up and flew back home, ditching me with this dude. And he was basically a stranger to me. So, I considered myself homeless, and I just wandered off on my skateboard with all my possessions in a backpack. This kid who partied with them who I met like 3 times got his parents to let me stay with them for a few weeks. I couldn't find a job, we made a bunch of art and played video games but like... it wasn't going anywhere. And I finally swallowed my pride and called my mom and had her fly me back home. I was 19, I think? Tool's 10,000 Days album came out that year, so yeah, that was 2006.

So... let's just say... I don't really have a good track record as far as "good friends" goes. Maybe my metric for "friend" is a little too low. Ya think? Let me be clear, there were more events than just this, too. Yep. These are just the greatest hits.

The last time I talked to her... it was about 2 days after I spread my dog's ashes in the river we used to go play at. I was doing a hike and collecting stones, and I went to visit my dog's ashes. And some really skinny person was sitting further down the river, I walked close by and didn't notice her. I was talking to myself on the trail on the way down, so I was really embarrassed and kinda just kept walking when I saw her. It was her. I completely did not recognize her. When I knew her, even when I reconnected with her a few years prior in 2019... she had always been a bit overweight. Sometimes more than others, but you know. Just, always curvy. And this time she looked skeletal. Like I legit did not recognize her. And she just started pouring out horror stories. And it's giving me really creepy feelings just thinking about it, so I don't want to linger or relive that part. She was going to court for accessory to fentanyl trafficking across state lines, the same shit that killed a mutual friend. She had like 5 kids. She was homeless. She was in rehab, but was down by the river getting high like 2 days before a court case. And she flat-out told me, and I said "oh, well I guess weed is okay, right? Now that it's legal..." And she went, "Right... weed... hehe..." And I was just in my head going "why the fuck are you still standing here dude, fucking run away right now!" I have never hiked faster and more scared than my hike back from that spot to my car, with my hand in my pocket clutching my keys in case I needed to like stab her like she was a zombie or some shit. Fuck, it's just haunting.

She called me. As I was getting my socks and shoes on to get my Chili's delivery. And I picked up. And she went, "Hey, it's ____. I'm stuck in ______ (the town I just moved from) and it's freezing cold and I'm just trying to get to my mom's house." And I just went, "I'm sorry, I don't live in the area anymore, and I don't really know anyone in the area." She asked where I moved to, I considered lying. I probably should have. But I told her I'm upstate. I told her sorry I couldn't help and we said goodbye. It had huge "I'm just calling you because I need something" vibes. A feeling that was a bit too familiar, and really just raised a lot of red flags, so I tried to just take a mental note on what that feeling was. I immediately went to block the number, but instead saved it as "WARNING - (HER NAME)" I couldn't bring myself to block it. I'll unpack that another time.

Then I took some really deep breaths and tried to shake it off, put my shoes on and... she called me again. And I just held the phone in my hand and watched it ring out. Then she called again. And I did the same. And I'm legit just standing by my door with my phone vibrating in my hand and just going "oh my god, I just want to get my dinner." And a literal homeless drug addict is speed dialing me because they can't find a ride. What does she expect me to do? Call my elderly parents and have them give her a ride? I don't know anyone in that town that would give me a ride. If I were her, I would call the cops and explain the situation, see if they have any suggestions, dispatch was always really nice to me. Maybe they would know what to do. I can't save you, and I really can't keep having the guilt of that being thrown on my lap.

The more I look back at my trainwreck of a social life... the more I go... "yeah, no shit, no wonder I'm terrified to meet new people, I'm obviously really fucking bad at picking friends." Why? Well... I guess because I don't pick them. I just take whoever gravitates towards me. And I try really hard to see the best in all people. The best I can. I don't wanna get into that too deep right now, but it does concern me in meeting new people. That I might not be able to tell if I'm around someone bad until it's too late, because historically that has been the case pretty much across the board. I don't know if it's a PTSD thing? Or a neurodivergent thing? Or a developmental thing? Or maybe a combination of all of them? But it destroyed my entire life. I am a creative, and creatives only thrive with a supportive community. And my community consisted of people who were basically just using me for whatever they needed (taking) and kinda just not even really acknowledging that I had needs at all. They sure didn't seem very interested in the things I made, or what I was doing with my life, what my goals were, any of that. So, career-wise. Doomed. Emotional support for a super emotional person? Doomed.

It scares me. I get to a point where I start to wonder if this kind of person is all that's out there. Self-centered, self-indulgent, prideful, sinful people. Lustful, overconsuming, greedy, apathetic, angry, jealous, hubristic people. And that whole black-and-white thinking, absolutism, "everyone might be like this so better play it safe and never leave your house" shit. That's a big-ass component of PTSD. And that shit got set off pretty hard today. Well, this week. Majorly. And today with those phone calls especially. So... I think I'm gonna be gentle with myself right now about the fact that it's 5:15 and I still haven't even taken my contacts out.

I'm just gonna say this. I would really, really, really just like. A break. Just... a break. Some good stuff. Some good news. "Hey, you've been going through some shit so I decided to help you figure out getting new furniture to your new apartment." Fuck man, you know what. I'd literally chop off half my fingers to just curl up in a giant beanbag chair with someone I felt completely comfortable with and just binge-watch a TV series. That's like, an actual dream for me right now. Like... I would take that over meaningless sex literally any day, and I mean that. Or like... sitting on the floor on pillows in front of a fireplace and drinking tea and sharing happy stories. So, if you have access to these things, please don't take them for granted. Because someday they might not be there. And I can say, as someone who has been in that trench most of my life. It's a dark, lonely place.

Good god this is an insanely depressing post! I pledged to try to find good vibes at the end. Here's something. Two things actually. I wrapped the bloodstone. It's not... great... Like I don't think it's super impressive, it's kinda plain, but I got it done and I'm happy with it. And I started to clean up one of the opal pieces and I'm like 90% sure it's real. I have no idea how I'm going to cut it, because I didn't really understand how opal works... the color comes from refracting light, right? So the more different angles (facets) I have cut into it, the more it should scatter light and do that... opalescent effect... right? I think that should be how it works. Because now that I'm cutting the matrix stone off of it, it's actually looking kinda... transparent. So I'm guessing the matrix just bounced the light around to amplify the effect. So... I don't know, I'll have to do a test piece or do some more googling tomorrow or something. It's an interesting concept. But raw, legit opal is so. fucking. beautiful. It's really cool. By far the coolest stone I have in my collection. So that's a good vibe, in my book.

Rest for me now, hopefully. I started to get that "I'm not safe" feeling again. Good thing I have weird occult protection symbols drawn all over the apartment. I figure if you put symbols from every culture and spiritual belief system, at least one of them has gotta work! XD Thank you for sharing my burdens, if you got this far. No matter how many of these hurt, angry, sad, hungry people are out there... no matter how much I get kicked down or taken advantage of. I will never let it snuff out the light inside me. And I will shine that light, of peace and love and hope, the best I can. And I'll be looking out my window every night until I see that light shine back.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

0 notes

y0ur-universe · 2 years

Text

Finally, 21!

It's the big 2 1 aaaAAaaa HAPPIEST 21st BIRTHDAY MY BUBBY!!! I officially welcome you to "adulthood" my love! HAHAHAH Grabe how time flies! We got together even before we were 18 and look at us now, marching onto another big chapter in our life ❤

First of all, I wanna congratulate you babu for surviving college and thriving so far especially kakatapos lang ng 3rd year midterms mo! It may feel and look like youre not doing much because all you are facing is "school work" but goddamn baby you are on FIRE!!! You continously produce quality and beautiful work that is why I am so incredibly proud of you! You manged to deliver all your requirements while also balancing your time and participation sa org. I'm very very happy and thrilled to see you to thrive and be in your nature again! I know its not easy and it gets tiring + draining, but you got through it and I know also you'll get even better at handling your acads and extra curriculars!

I also know and understand the extreme pressure you are feeling to excel in your academics but also to be independent and earn for yourself. I'm always here to support you in whatever babu while I'm still earning to be able to continue school, I'll always be by your side if you need an extra hand in doing your reqs or if you need some help in accompishing or attaining gigs!

Being an adult is a very very scary and intimidating thing, I do feel like I was thrown into that reality a bit earlier than you and I know it's not an easy battle, but i got you by my side and I was able to survive all the stormy days I encountered. That alone makes me confident that you'll take on adulthood bravely and wisely. It's alright to feel intimidated and always know that you've got a bootiful babu cole always by your side ready to be your rock and your guide.

Seeing you and growing with you through the years is honestly a mind blowing thought. We've gone 5thru a lot and i've seen you in multiple situations in life. The growth never stops as we continue our venture in life and my wish for you babu is that you keep on striving to be wiser as you enter adulthood. There is still a lot to learn and much more things for us to exeprience individually and together, and my wish is that as 6you navigate your way through life's obstacle, make sure to take note of the lessons that it gives you and use it to your advantage. More specific wishes is that I hope my bubby lives a very long happy life (with me of course), be healthy (NOT SO MUCH NODOLS), be even more responsible with "adult things" like money and grown up responsibilities but also, i wish that the kid inside you never dies and you continue to be the sunshine that you are even though we are grown ups now.

Our relationship isn't perfect but I cant thank you enough bubby for always being so understanding and patient. Thank you for always lending a hand when I can't handle my shit anymore and thank you for always staying by my side. Thank you also for growing with me, that is something that I am genuinely thankful for because that made us stronger than ever. I promise to take care of you always babu and to help and give you anything that you might need or want. I promise to love you in all your highs and especially in your lows. As we take on adulthood, I guarantee that I'll always be with you in this crazy adventure.

You deserve the world my sunshine, you helped and inspire so many people around you. Don't ever let your shine fade away and always remember that you are above all worries and anxiety that bother you. Another fight is with your mental health but always know babu to never be afraid to reach out and also remember that you have a lot of people around you that cares, loves, and is deeply thankful for you. That is why I also wish for you to take care of yourself because I won't always be there to nag you hehe. You matter my love and your existence is such a great gift to everyone around you. I am the luckiest person ever because youre mine (forever and always) but your kindness, empathy, and intellect must be shared (pero ako lang ang mahal saakin lang uuwe 😛).

I love you so so so so much Gerard ko! Thank you for being my light, my annoying ooga booga, my lablab, my enemy, my bestfriend, and my home. Cheers to 21! Happy Birthday once again I FUCKIN LOVE YOU!!!

We'll celebrate this sunday okay? We gonna have the best mukbang for the bestest birthday boy ever!

Surprise to noh! Akala mo wala na tumblr tumblr hehe 😛 nawp! me is prepared now and I will make sure na no matter how busy I am, I won't ever miss this tradition again like I did last year huhuhu

love, your prettiest girlfriend fiance future wife and forever and always sexiest most beautiful companion in life

Cole xx

1 note · View note

janiestumb · 2 years

Text

Back at it, it being... No idea.

I was only gone for three weeks. So why am I fucked up?

Is it the abrupt drop in quantity of breads consumed per day? My “welcome home” banner taking the form of an overly dramatic letter from the IRS? A wave of humiliating job rejections, only provided when forced because industry standard is “Hundreds of overqualified writers must do a week of free labor trying to get the one (or secretly non-existent) open job on our non-union show. We will then steal jokes and ideas and will not credit these writers, pay them or even email them to say ‘we hired someone else. Thanks for the labor’”? Or IDK… jet lag.

One thing’s for sure. I’m not simply longing for Europe and its two-Euro Greek yogurt tubs, as much as I am. I’m grieving the version of myself I got to know there, the one whose self-sufficiency and independence were on full display. And the one who knew that if she got hit by a car, she wouldn’t become bankrupt. And the one who knew that everyone around her valued humans more than guns. That knowledge was never lost on me, even before tragic recent events. America is diseased.

A week ago I was basking in the glory of nature’s finest splendor and panic-backing my rental Yaris down a narrow, grassy walking path next to a a cliff because Google Maps failed me. But I couldn’t fail, because I would drive off a cliff. (This happened immediately after publishing that blog post about how easy driving had been, of course.)

And now I’m… here. And it’s… this. Same. Slow.

Like I stepped off a moving walkway and I’m walking all weird. In pants that feel scratchy. Wet socks. Discomfort metaphors. Etc.

I’m back to nestling into the old groove in my couch and worrying people hate me. Deciding there’s some email that went around to every person with authority about how crazy I am and definitely don’t hire the crazy. Because you can’t tell me a more logical story. Then treading the same few blocks for escape.

I’m so grateful to reconnect with my beloved friends and of course my Georgie. I am making the most of access to my sewing machine and my neighborhood and all my new ceramics. But I’ve also returned to my anxious, lonely, unsuccessful-feeling self, and I hate that.

Travel version me is great, and I want her here. But she doesn’t belong in real life. There are couples here. Careers here. Those are the two prongs of success here. What make a human valid. I can speak of neither.

Last Friday night, after an exciting nail-biter of a three-flight, two-sprint trip back to the US, I arrived in LA and a Lyft driver sped me home at 90 mph while checking his phone as he changed lanes without signaling. I didn’t say anything because I’m a woman so I reasonably fear retaliation when I’m in a strange man’s car. But also I was exhausted. But also I mostly felt pity. Because this is America. Surely this was a man working the umpteenth hour of his underpaying gig job. Gas prices are through the roof. I got why he might have a death wish for both of us. Welcome home.

But there are two takeaways I keep reminding myself of. OK three… More. But let’s say three for this blog post because what am I doing?

A Hollywood gig will do absolutely nothing for me, happiness-wise. Remote work would help me be of the world. And that’s where I should be. Writing in the world. Too bad that letter went out to every person in authority.

Being in a relationship mostly means you've settled for a shitty life and I knew this before, but this trip was full-on proof. When it comes to observing relationships, we usually see a movie version with hot people or an IG version with fake as shit people. But after moving like a ghost, overhearing and observing three weeks of couples talking about bullshit and fighting, ... most relationships... seems bad!

And perhaps most deeply, I am surprised to either learn or remember that I am capable of evolving. And reverting. In good and bad ways. After experiencing pandemic sameness for years, how amazing is it that I got to experience such a huge shift in perception? I became someone else. Some combination of my younger, plucky, hopeful self, and the new woman who didn’t worry and had been to therapy and had survived the worst and had the confidence to enter roundabouts. I mean, yes, I worried. Only briefly, when my right back tire was dangling off that cliff. And also when I was invited to a Portuguese-only local dining venue, protected by lock and key, and there was no menu and I was scared and had just been traumatized by that cliff. I asked for four sardines thinking they’d be small ‘uns, only to be given four giant honkers. Huge fish, intact, lined up, barely grilled and giving me the side eye. I cut into one and saw entrails. I was terrified. I cut them up like I used to do when I had an eating disorder and ate the bread and oily nasty peppers, my hands still shaking, so freaked out by that cliff. I wanted to enjoy my Portuguese-only moment, but I couldn't. I paid the measly few Euros that the bill came out to be, even with a carafe of wine that I didn't touch because that’s not what this terrified driver needed, and I peaced.

I should get back to the point of number three. Perhaps I was meant to learn that I’m capable of being versions of myself. “This too shall pass.” This is true of experiences. This is true of feelings. This is true of your life. But I didn't know that this is also true of who you are. Nothing’s ever fixed about you if you let who you think you are go. So don’t grieve the you you’re not anymore. Maybe just be grateful for the knowledge that you don’t know who you could be next. Just put her in the driver's seat on the edge of a cliff, shift into reverse, and see where she goes.

0 notes

jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—backseat serenade. (m)

⟶ pairing: taehyung x reader

⟶ genre: punk!taehyung / band au / brother’s best friend au + smut

⟶ words: 10,790

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: falling in love and having weekly sex with kim taehyung is wrong for a number of reasons — and, no, that’s not including the whole other issue that he’s also your brother’s best friend

⟶ warnings: multiple sex scenes, slight exhibitionism if u look hard enough, wall sex, car sex, unprotected sex, all the sex (seriously), fingering, pussy slapping (also if u look hard enough), lots of teasing, doggy style, riding, creampie

⟶ disclaimer: this story is another repost of an old one (although it’s basically been entirely rewritten lol)!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

“We have to hurry. I don’t have a lot of time.”

Taehyung says this with much difficulty, of course, especially when considering you’re currently pressed up against him, his fingers digging crescent-moons into your hips ━ but he knows you’re teasing him now.

You can’t help it, though; he just makes it so easy for you.

He can be so stubborn and impatient at times that poking fun at him brings you quite a bit of joy. Maybe not so much to him, as he often whines and complains that you like to torture him, but, really, how could you not? When you think about what he’s usually like in bed, away from prying eyes, it’s entirely different. So to see that dominance in him fade into nothing short of helpless is simply satisfying ━ even if you know you’ll pay for it at a later time. It doesn’t always happen either but when it does, you bask in it for as long as possible.

Which is why you seem to take the liberty of “torturing” him so sweetly now, just before the boys are about to play a gig at a bar late one night. Taehyung had found you the moment he and the boys had finished soundchecking for the evening, then had you pinned up against the brick wall of the dingy washroom, his hips digging harshly into yours, and his hand now gripping your thigh around his waist. It might have been you who instigated it, hooded eyes and fluttering lashes and shit-eating grins meeting him in secret from across the room as he stood on stage before you with his bass guitar in hand, but Taehyung was the one to put it into action just like he always does, pulling you in there even despite the fact that they were scheduled to play in twenty minutes.

But who could blame you? Taehyung is always so charming, and tonight he was looking extra irresistible. Maybe it was the silky blouse, the first few buttons left open so that the floral tattoo on his chest pokes through, leaving very little to the imagination, or maybe it was the way he had let his hair grow out a little longer than usual, soft dark curls pushed back by a single bandana.

“You’ll be late,” You warn him in between heated kisses as he pecks his way down to the underside of your jaw where he tongues a warm pattern there.

“Just a quickie,” Taehyung promises gruffly. His hips rut against yours again and you feel his straining erection against your inner thigh. Poor thing. “Been dying all day to feel you on my dick.”

You only hum in response, a small amused smirk plastered on your face. He’s sucking a hickey onto your neck when he speaks next.

“Had all these thoughts but I was all alone. It was terrible.”

“What kind of thoughts?” You pry, quirking a brow. Your fingers toy at the top of his belt buckle, pulling him towards you. “Let me guess. Were you thinking about what it feels like to have my mouth on you? All warm and wet.”

He doesn’t move a muscle when he feels your hand trail lower past his belt only to grab at his crotch through the rough material of his jeans. You press your palm against him and he hisses.

“Sucking you off nice and slow, just how you like it?” You probe, teeth tugging at his lower lip when he catches your mouth on his once more. Your voice is low and sultry and invokes something in him that has him tensing. “Or maybe the way it felt when you had me bent over your kitchen counter the other day. You know, you always make me feel so good, Tae━”

He growls against your mouth but the harsh sound dissolves into a strangled whine. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, love.”

“And I always love when you pull at my hair too━” But you continue on as if he hadn’t even spoken, the thrill of the moment coursing through your veins like crackling electricity. “And when you grip my thighs so tightly when your head’s between my legs━”

“Y/N,” he says your name in a strained warning, bordering on a desperate beg if you listen close enough. He gets distracted when you suck delicately on a spot on his jawline and has to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

“My mouth?” You ask, tantalizingly slowly. “Or me?”

“I’m a simple man, I just wanna cum,” he hums, earning a delighted snort from you. “I’ll take whatever you give me, Y/N, please.”

“Hmm…” You trail off. You press your palm a little harder against him, rubbing your hand across his length. “Think I want you inside me, Tae. Wanna be wrecked by you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Now, this seems to excite him to no end. He fumbles with his belt at once. A devious cackle meets his ears and he knows you’re purposely toying with him. The next few moments unfold in a blur as his eager hands join with your own nimble ones, having his belt undone in a matter of seconds and your skirt hitched up nearly to your waist. With one hand gripping his straining and leaking cock as he pulls himself free from his pants, the other hitches one of your thighs to his waist. He pushes into you at once, the familiar feeling of your wet walls coaxing him in further and further as he sinks against your chest entirely, a beautiful luscious moan falling from his lips and a hiss of glee from yours. And, then, all at once, it’s as if all the pressure that has been building up inside of him tumbles to the forefront to be released.

“Jesus, fuck,” he grunts. He buries his head against your chest, one hand feverishly grasping at your breasts from under your shirt, fortunate you chose to forgo a bra for the night.

“Ooh, Tae━” Your own arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly to you, but you don’t think he’ll bother going very far when his own weight slumps against you entirely, pressing you against the wall roughly. And even though he’s quick to fuck himself into you, his hips hardly stray far from yours too, causing you to bob violently up and down the wall behind you, the rough brick structure scratching at your flesh paling in comparison to the cool metallic rings on his fingers holding you up and the burn between your legs as his cock stretches you open.

“Nice to know that’s all I am to you━” Your head falls back against the wall as he continues. “Something you can use to get off. Not that I mind.”

“Nah, that’s not all you are to me,” Taehyung sharply inhales, and then shudders. In the heat of the moment, you miss the sentiment in his voice. He lifts his head to yours finally, smothering your lips with his. “But your pretty little cunt sure is nice.”

A maniacal cackle bubbles at your throat as you nip at his lower lip. Before you can respond, outside the washroom Jimin’s voice can be heard calling out aimlessly for Taehyung as the boy most likely wanders by, oblivious to what’s unfolding only a few feet away from him. “Has anyone seen Tae? Taehyung! Get your ass back here or we’re gonna be late━”

Taehyung groans out of frustration and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling angrily, “Fuckin’ hell.”

But despite the Jimin’s close proximity and despite Taehyung’s bitter resentment for it, his hips still continue to rut into yours. You do manage to pull apart from his mouth and giggle when he chases after your lips desperately. “Think that’s your cue, baby.”

“There’s no way you’d be that evil,” he protests like a whining child.

“But Jimin sounds pissed.”

Taehyung finds it hard to focus when your fingers tug at the collar of his shirt, absentmindedly (or so he thinks) running your hands under his shirt and over his chest. He cradles you close to him, following your every move. That, and the way your walls clench around him drives him wild. “Heaven forbid we let down Jimin.”

“Nnng━” You choke back a whimper. “He’ll be mad.”

“As if he wouldn’t already lose his shit if he found me here in such a compromising position with you being that you’re his sister.”

Compromising is certainly one word for it. So, maybe Taehyung had a point, but that never stopped him or you before. In fact, it only seemed to add to your lustful endeavours, as if you both enjoyed seeing how far you could push the boundaries before getting caught ━ or not.

It hadn’t always been like this. For a period of your life, you had somehow forced yourself to believe you had despised Taehyung as much as you claim, as much as you lie. You wondered just how Jimin could ever be friends with, or be as inseparable with, Taehyung as he was. Whereas Jimin is timid and shy, gentle and caring, like a soft breath of cool air on a hot summer’s day that sways the knee-high grass in meadows behind your house, Taehyung is energetic and effervescent, reckless and wild, akin to that of a sudden flash of lightning that breaks apart the calm sky, a clap of thunder that shakes even the very core of sleeping Gaia. Though, somehow, their two vastly different personalities come clashing together in a harmonious perfection and create something that is entirely too rambunctious for you to handle, even as a young child.

But now? Now you’re positive neither you nor Taehyung would stand a chance against Jimin’s wrath if he found out his best friend enjoyed weekly sex of all sorts with you, sometimes even when he’s asleep in the next room over in your shared apartment with him and Taehyung had somehow managed to sneak in during the night.

“You know he’s already suspicious,” You moan as his cock angles upward into you in such a way that makes your body tremble. You jut your hips forward, meeting his halfway. “Now━ Fuck, Tae━ you wanna… You wanna risk getting kicked from the band for not showing up to your set?”

“There’s still ten minutes,” he hisses hotly. “Ten minutes is more than enough time.”

“Then you’ll really be late.”

“It adds to the rockstar brand, doesn’t it?” he asks hastily. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking wet and you’re teasing me?”

He’s met with a roll of your eyes, and then a drunken snicker as you retort, “Maybe being fashionably late will be more acceptable when you’re a big celebrity.”

“Did you find him?” Another voice suddenly sounds from outside, this time resembling Hoseok’s. Taehyung wonders how they haven’t heard either of you yet, the lewd wet noises of his cock burrowing into your cunt seeming to grow louder each time. Surely, you would have been caught by now had it not been for the thudding bass of the music playing at the bar.

“No,” Jimin grumbles, closer this time.

A dangerously loud whimper tumbles from your lips and Taehyung hurries to clamp his hand over your mouth. You’re fortunate when he does, clinging to his hand as he pumps himself into you. At the very least, no matter how cocky Taehyung got with you or how many times he teased the thought of getting caught, he would never actually risk facing Jimin’s mighty wrath. Still, he finds a way to have fun with it.

“Uh oh.” Taehyung meets your darkened stare, lids heavy, as his other hand leaves your thigh to stick between your legs, fingers rubbing circles against your clit. You know he does it on purpose, judging by the broadening smirk on his face when the added stimulation makes your hips jerk instinctively beneath him. He’s surprised when you hardly let out a noise, safe for a sudden gasp for air. “Not even one tiny moan? Come on, baby.”

“Fuck it. Wherever he is, he better know we’re on in ten!” Jimin’s voice carries back to the two of you. Then, a little more faintly as he wanders off, you can hear him grumble, “I swear to God, this asshole━”

“Wait, wait━” You rasp suddenly, twisting and turning beneath Taehyung and the boy stops at once. You try not to let your heart swoon at the way his hands are all soft and gentle as they touch you now, sliding his palm off your mouth if only for it to fall to your hips where he rubs at comfortingly.

He tries to ignore the way his cock twitches, shoved so deep within your walls. “What’s wrong?”

You slither from his grasp, unraveling your leg from his waist and delicately pushing him away, trying not to focus on the way your pussy throbs at the sudden missing warmth of his length. Taehyung is suddenly even more concerned, the poor boy gawking at you helplessly, his swollen cock completely forgotten as he fixes himself back into his jeans, his attention solely focused on you and your wellbeing now.

“What happened? Did I hurt you━”

“No,” You promise. “No, I just━” You look sheepish, and he wonders why, up until he sees you fidgeting with your skirt in an attempt to fix it and the mischievous twinkle flashing in your eyes. “I just figured maybe we shouldn’t risk it tonight. I mean, you heard Jiminie.” You pat Taehyung’s chest once, smoothing out the material of his now crumpled shirt. “So, I’ll see you out there.”

Taehyung blinks once. “What the fuck.”

It doesn’t seem to hit him at first; not until he spots your wicked grin as you lean past him to look at your reflection in the mirror, fixing your clothes and hair. You wipe at a smudge of lipstick in the corner of your mouth, and Taehyung gaps.

“Y/N, what the fuck?” he whines. Needy and desperate hands try to grab at you on your way to the door, but he ultimately lets you weave your way out of his reach. “What are you, the antichrist? Don’t be such a tease. I’ve got a problem that you helped start. It’s only fair if you help finish it.”

Admittedly, it is cruel. He looks both shameless and shameful, an exasperated and flustered expression to match the helpless state he’s in. Shirt askew on his shoulders, hair a wild mess, and his painfully obvious boner struggling against his jeans. You almost feel bad, until you realize you shouldn’t be. Because this is all it’s ever been between the two of you ━ sex, and more sex, no feelings attached, but lately something seems off… Either way, Taehyung will get over it, and he’ll still come crawling back for more which is why you have no qualms when you leave. Just, maybe, not in the way you would like.

The last thing he sees of you before you flee the washroom for him to fend for himself is a seductive smirk and a wink being thrown over your shoulder as you remark innocently, prettily, “You have hands.”

And then you’re gone, leaving him alone in the dingy washroom. He doesn’t come out right away, though it leaves the restless boys that make his band awaiting him to speculate some more.

“He’s gonna totally screw us over if he doesn’t show up in the next two minutes,” Jimin is saying hotly to the boys behind the stage when you rejoin them. The bar is already filling up with partygoers but mostly fans of the band, eagerly anticipating the set.

“Relax, Jimin,” Namjoon says carelessly. “He’s probably getting blown in the washroom or something. Can’t rush a man through these things.”

Jimin rolls his eyes as the others snicker. When the others have distracted themselves by discussing other business, you approach your brother casually, saying as inconspicuous as possible yet reassuringly, “Everything will be fine. I’m sure he’ll be here any second.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if he throws this all away for a girl,” Jimin shakes his head. “It’s a miracle he ━ or any of the guys, for that matter ━ hasn’t tried anything on you yet.”

You try to laugh, though the sound is more forced and strained than you would like. At least Jimin doesn’t seem to notice. “But he’s your friend. Don’t you trust him?”

“I do trust him,” Jimin replies. “He’s a good guy, he’s just too caught up in all this band life. We’ve both seen it with the guys, especially with Taehyung. They take advantage of this stuff in the early stages.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry,” You promise. “I’m not interested in your friends and never will be ━ especially not Taehyung.”

Fortunately, the dreaded conversation doesn’t last much longer. Taehyung does end up making it to his own set on time, and when he finds you out in the crowd, you’re smirking deviously up at him for a secret that never has to be told aloud to the world and certainly not to Jimin.

You don’t quite remember when you and Taehyung started hooking up behind your brother’s back or what exactly caused it.

If you think back long and hard enough, you’re positive it was the result of some sort of drunken one night stand that elapsed into sober days and conscious decision making, which then turned into weeks, then months, which leaves you to where you are now. Almost a year of sucking your brother’s best friend’s dick and you’ve somehow, miraculously, never been caught. But aside from occasionally sleeping with one another, there was nothing more to be exposed to Jimin in terms of romance. Because, as far as he was aware, you and Taehyung were still embroiled in your childhood rivalry with one another that was less violent now than when you were younger and more civil, aside from the offhanded jabs and retorts shot at one another. And, as far as Taehyung and you were aware, the charade and the hook-ups all resulted in a peculiar sort of friendship between the two of you that was certainly as far as either of you would take things. Supposedly.

But between sexual teasing and taunts, you sometimes wonder if the lines have begun to blur, and if you’ve gotten too comfortable with Taehyung asking to sleep in your bed. Which is why, maybe, you overcompensate by “torturing” him on the days that he really needs you, like the night before in the grimy washroom of the bar. He hadn’t joined the real world or the band until the very last second they were meant to go on stage, looking all the more discomposed and flushed in the face when he rushed out, though at least he had somehow managed to tame his raging boner.

Now you were certain the universe was toying with you, bittersweet payback coming to nip you in the ass.

You hadn’t been so bothered the night before, leaving with the boys when their set was done and returning to your home with Jimin, not a word being uttered between you and Taehyung, even up until the very next day where you find yourself now. Crammed in a local studio run by some friend Yoongi had known from college, you were quite used to watching the band brainstorm new lyrics and record songs in real time, all from the sofa shoved up against one wall of the small space. You had been there every step of the way ━ their first rehearsal as a formed band, the day they discovered the group’s name in almost a dreamlike epiphany, the release of their very first full-length album produced and recorded all by them and promoted all by them, their very first gig with a decent following and the jittery anxiety they had all been troubled by, and every gig following it in which their nerves subsided and their effervescent charm and credence began to finally show through. But they had never been as disconcerted as they had now ━ which, really, you don’t blame them.

“Bro, this is stressing me out.” This aggravated groan sounds from Jungkook, the band’s lead guitarist.

He’s currently splayed out on the ground of the sofa you’re seated on, head thrown back against the cushions. Every other boy in the studio bare a similar wearied look ━ even Jimin, as their usual spritely lead singer.

You suppose that’s just the inevitable stress bound to occur when a scout from the infamous Columbia Records had somehow found the band either in person at one of their gigs or online and taken an interest in them and were interested in signing them. After weeks of back and forth discussion, Jin had been fortunate enough to land a meeting with the label in New York City, looking promising enough to excite even the stoic Yoongi. And after a month of planning, their meeting was set to take place finally only a week from that day. The issue seemed to arise when the label claimed they wanted the band to bring a set of new songs to the table to discuss at the last possible moment, sending the boys into a chaotic frenzy as they had only just released their first album a few months back. You had come to help the boys, though they were lucky enough to have found a handful of pre-written songs from their repertoire that still, unfortunately, needed fine tuning, vocals, and melodies. After working meticulously all morning, they were only just now deciding to split for a much needed lunch break.

“Same here,” Jimin says glumly, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Can’t wait to get out of here. I feel like I’m going insane.”

As the boys begin to shift and move, Jin gets to his feet and clasps his hands onto Jimin’s shoulders, giving him a reassuring nudge. “Just think about it: international success and Grammys await.”

“If we don’t fall apart before then,” Namjoon stifles a yawn as he stretches out his arms. He tosses a glance at you and Taehyung. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” You say, though you hardly move from your seat. “I’ll be there.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute,” Taehyung nods. He’s sat across from you on the couch, journal propped on one knee as he scrawls away in it, a jarble of chord progressions and lyrics. “Just gonna finish cleaning up in here.”

It seems convincing enough to Namjoon and the rest of the boys, even Jimin who is already out the door, not in the least bit suspicious of you or Taehyung. Honestly, you’re sure not even Taehyung is suspicious of your unmoving presence beside him until the boys leave and suddenly the room falls silent.

“You’re stressed,” You point out in a gentle musing. Which is true. You don’t usually see Taehyung riddled with anxieties, typically keeping to himself and maintaining some sort of effortless and mysterious coolness around the others.

The boy quirks a brow as he lifts his gaze to look up at you, tossing the journal onto the ground. Whether or not he seems to catch the underlying suggestive and sultry tone in your voice, you’re not quite sure but could you really blame yourself? It was difficult having to watch Taehyung all morning in his element, gazing at him whenever he was in the recording booth, headphones dangling from his neck and bass guitar in his lap as his expert fingers thrummed away at the strings. He always looks most attractive to you when he’s so utterly consumed by his work and his art, whether it be on stage in front of hundreds of people or in a more intimate setting at recordings or practices.

“What happened to you not wanting to disappoint Jimin by getting caught or whatever it was?” he asks, waving his hand dismissively. “Staying back with me is definitely gonna catch his attention.”

“Maybe,” You shrug. You catch his hand as he brings it back down, raising it to your lips to kiss at the tips of his fingers slowly, one-by-one, never once breaking eye contact with him. “I was just thinking you could use some help. And an apology for yesterday.”

Despite the way Taehyung’s dark gaze scrutinizes you in a taunting manner, he still watches as you take his hand and place it between your thighs, over your core. At least today you chose to wear leggings, the smooth material allowing for very little obstacles standing in his way as you press his fingers against you. A wolfish smirk tugs at his lips. “You think your pussy’s gonna help me?”

“Yes, actually, I do,” You say, matter-of-fact. “And I don’t think it will; I know. If I remember correctly, you were begging to use me as a stress-reliever before your set yesterday.”

Taehyung clucks his tongue. “Sounds a lot to me like you just want my fingers in you. Not so nice now being the needy one, huh?”

“I want you to do a lot of things to me, Tae.”

“Careful, baby. You’re playing a dangerous game,” Taehyung says. Still, he entertains the idea. Pressing his thumb harder against you, he rubs leisurely at the sensitive part of your clit over your clothes and the sudden feeling makes you pur with glee. “Besides, why should I be so nice and help you after what you did to me?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re still on about that? You’re a grown man, you can pleasure yourself.”

“How mean.” He feigns a look of mock hurt. “It doesn’t feel as nice when it isn’t you.”

“Taehyung,” You scold his name in a warning, but it mostly comes out as a contented sigh. You know you’ve already won him over, though the impatient tug you give on his arm as you clutch at his wrist of the hand still between your legs is a wordless reminder. Your fingers flutter up to his face, pulling him down for a kiss which he gladly obliges to. “Think they’ll walk in?”

“Nah.” His voice is a throaty murmur. “We’ve got some time. The boys’ seem worried enough as is; think they’re already halfway to that pho place around the corner they wanted to try, and they’re probably not gonna wanna come back here for at least another hour. Plus, I think we’ve given the producers a raging headache with all our requests so they definitely won’t want to be back in here for a while.”

You snicker at the thought, humming into his mouth as you pull him down with you onto the sofa, bending your knee so as to let him slide into place between your legs more comfortably. He pulls his hand away from you only long enough to lick at his digits before slipping his hand past the waistband of your leggings this time. Nudging aside your underwear, he swipes his fingers at your clit, marveling at your stickiness.

Your breath hitches in your throat. “What do we say when they ask where we went?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he grunts into your mouth. “Fuck, tell them we were busy fucking for all I care.”

You swat at his chest playfully but lose your spirit when he presses his thumb against your clit, causing your hips to rut forward in a silent plea. Taehyung’s right, you think. Your excuse for the boys can be worried about later. Now, Taehyung slides a finger into you, then another, stretching you open experimentally, causing you to croon.

Face warm and head spinning, a sudden thought pops into your head that seems much more intimate than his fingers in you. “So━” You bite your lip to stop a moan. The question that forms on your tongue is timid despite the lewd things that threaten to run through your mind at his every touch, “S-So, what happens when you’re a big and famous rockstar, touring the world now?”

“I’ll take you with me.” Taehyung tongues a pattern down to the underside of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. He curls his fingers upward, sinking further into you until he’s reached his knuckles, enjoying the way your hips twitch beneath him. “Fuck you in every city we go to, in every fancy, over-the-top hotel we stay in. New York, L.A., Paris, London, Rome…”

“Romantic,” You snort, although maybe it kind of is if you think about it long enough. He slides a third finger into you then, fucking his digits in and out of you at a gradual pace that has your core aching. You’re all warm and wet around him that it goes straight to his dick, the thought of him tearing you apart as he plunges his cock into you making him grow antsy. It does the same to you. “Nnngh, Taehyung━ We’ll see about that when you meet pretty girls thousands of miles away who can offer you so much more than me.”

“Hmm… Dunno about that,” he hums. “There’s only gonna be you.”

You wonder if he knows what he’s doing, the way his words make your heart stutter in your chest. But then you start to wonder why you’re even feeling such things for him. Pretty words promising you that you meant more to him than sex meant little to you in comparison when he never acted upon it ━ but could you blame him? Even you were apprehensive of ruining what you already had with him, his friendship with Jimin if you told him how you were feeling lately, and the integrity of the band.

Your legs tremble as your orgasm approaches. Taehyung busies himself by nipping and sucking at your neck and all you can do is puff and pant, the lewd wet noises of his fingers penetrating you filling your ears. “Taehyung━ God, I wanna feel your dick so badly.”

“Yeah?” he growls. “Gonna let me fuck you finally? You’re so wet right now, could slip right in. Fuck, look at what you do to yourself by being so mean to me.”

He twists his finger up into you in such a way that has you grinding against his knuckles. “Please, Tae━”

“Got you stretched so wide too,” Taehyung hums pensively. “Your pussy always takes me so well too, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm, Taehyung!”

“Look at you,” he hisses, quickening his pace. Your back arches until your chest is pressed flush against his, walls quivering around his fingers. You reach out desperately for his face, smoothing your lips over his but you fail to really make any sort of connection. Instead, your jaw unhinges in a breathless moan against his mouth as he rests his forehead against yours. “Wanna come around my fingers so badly, don’t you? So close too.”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m━” Your hands ball into fists around the collar of his shirt. Your eyes threaten to roll back as you get closer and closer, your aching pussy so close to feeling its much needed relief when━ “What the fuck, Taehyung?”

He pulls his hand from your core before you can cum, leaving you a sweating and panting mess. The sudden loss of contact leaves you dumbfounded, gawking at the boy who’s suddenly grinning in a similar ungodly manner to your selfish response to him the day before. Payback has never tasted so sweet before to him, and so bitter to you.

“You did that on purpose,” You whine, jutting your hips forward desperately to meet his hand again. Instead, he gives your leaking and sensitive pussy one slap, the pleasant jolt shooting up your spine making you moan. “You’re so mean. I thought you were over it.”

“Well, now I am.” He pulls his hand out from between your legs and licks at his fingers. “Have you had your fun?”

It takes you a moment to respond as you gather yourself. He finds your sulking a little hilarious, and maybe also feels a little bad. “For now.”

“That’s a good girl.” He leans down to kiss your mouth hungrily, enjoying when you suck eagerly at his lower lip. “Because I’ve had my fun.”

You open your mouth to say something more but are stopped shortly when, somewhere outside the recording room, you can hear the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning and Jimin’s curious voice, “Tae?”

You and Taehyung have stumbled off of one another within seconds, listening to the way Taehyung curses under his breath as he flings himself off the couch and a few feet away as you sit upright on the sofa. You have to only pray and hope that you both don’t look too obvious, though you think it’s too late for that. Either way, you cross one thigh over the other, biting down harshly on your tongue as Jimin stumbles into the room. As his gaze sweeps fleetingly across the room, he hardly takes note of both you and Taehyung.

“There you two are,” he says. “Was wondering where you went off to. And━” His stare flutters over to Taehyung for a moment and you hold your breath, fearing he may know a little too much, when━ “There’s my wallet! I knew I forgot it here.”

He crosses the room swiftly and plucks his abandoned wallet from the desk, holding it up to show the two of you. You smile nervously and Taehyung takes it upon himself to answer, clearing his throat in the process. “We were just gonna catch up with you, actually. Y/N was just helping me finish up here.”

You’re fortunate that Jimin’s probable sudden panic of trying to find his wallet and the relief of realizing he hadn’t lost it to the ether is what distracts him. He seems hardly intrigued by your lack of presence or yours and Taehyung’s odd companionship without the other boys. Whatever the case, you both manage to make it out of the recording studio unscathed and Taehyung does a well enough job at deflecting from any further suspicions by talking as normally as he usually would with Jimin on your walk over to the restaurant the rest of the boys are at.

Well, as unscathed as you can be, the tragedy of your lost orgasm still haunting you even as you sit across from Taehyung at the table.

“Now you’ll really be late.”

You say this as a heedful warning, though you’re fortunate when you find that you’re both distracted this time.

You know you have Taehyung under your spell that morning when he catches you purposely wandering his apartment in nothing but a pair of your panties. It’s not as if it’s uncommon to see you naked in his kitchen, making breakfast. That morning, when you walk into the bedroom holding a cup of tea, Taehyung almost chokes at the sight of your bare chest. It’s early the day of the band’s flight to New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records, and though Taehyung has roughly an hour before he has to leave the apartment, you’re worried he might just miss the flight altogether when he pulls you onto his bed again after a night of fucking.

“Don’t care. Come here.” His large hands are on you in an instant, roaming your body as he kisses the underside of your jaw and pins you beneath him. You let him get carried away, let him leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your lips down to your collarbones and in between your breasts.

“What are you gonna tell the boys when they’re on a flight to New York and you’re still in your apartment?” You rasp, fingers threading in his hair.

“Was busy spending the last twenty-four hours making hot, passionate love to you.”

The wry grin on his face makes it come across as a joke and makes your heart skip a beat. Admittedly, that was partly the truth. He had invited you over the day before and you had spent the better part of it in his bed in every position imaginable. Have to make up for the three days we won’t see each other, he had said after your first round, head between your legs and mouth on your cunt.

You snicker now but the sound falls short when a moan replaces it. “Don’t think you can call it passionate love making when you gave up halfway and made me ride you like you always do.”

He gasps and bites down teasingly on your skin but not with enough pressure to hurt. “Was that a jab at my manhood?”

“Of course not.”

“Besides, I like it best when you’re in charge.”

You roll your eyes but pull him up to your face so that you can kiss him again. It’s an odd shift in atmosphere when you find him kissing you in a chaste manner, despite having marked you red all over and legs still shaking from how many times he’s made you come in the last twenty-four hours. But it wasn’t all sex for once. Falling asleep in his arms left you still dreaming even when you were long awake.

“Gonna miss you,” he whispers once he parts from you. He rubs soft circles against your hips, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“It’s only for three days,” You say.

“I know,” he sighs. “I just━ God, I’ve gotten so used to you being here. I’m just sick of sleeping alone all the time. Shit, I don’t think I’m making any sense anymore. All I know is you’re driving me crazy.”

“Taehyung…”

“Am I wrong to feel that way?” He lifts his head now to look at you, ardent sincerity glazing over his eyes as he gazes at you.

You’re too caught up in the moment, the lustful afterglow of sex and whatever else is starting to emerge however blurry it may be now, to not notice right away the sound of knocking on the front door. Instead, you reach out to push his hair out of his eyes. You think you know what he means; you just want to hear him say it aloud. Your question is a gentle probe. “What are you trying to say?”

“I━”

But Taehyung’s voice is cut short by the sound of Jin’s shouting from the front door. “Taehyung, you in here?”

Wide eyes meet with yours in the sudden alarming panic of Jin’s arrival. Taehyung grumbles mostly to himself, “God dammit, what’s he doing here?”

You can hear the band’s manager talking aloud, quite possibly to another one of the boys that he’s dragged with him, and you and Taehyung scramble to react. Taehyung only has enough time to clamber out of his bed and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor as you pull on one of his sweaters and grab the bedsheet to cling to your chest if only so it can hide the rest of your bare legs.

“Are you alive?” Jin’s asking, closer this time.

“We had to come check on you━” You don’t register the second voice until it’s too late.

Because there, standing at the threshold of Taehyung’s door to his room, is not just Jin but your brother. Jimin’s familiar pop of bright blue hair and nonchalant smile are much too hard to forget. But, upon stumbling across Taehyung’s room, they each come to a stuttering halt. It doesn’t take long for the realization to dawn on them ━ and how could they not piece together the puzzles painting such a painfully obvious picture? The dishevelled bed, the clothes that litter his floor, your clothes that litter his floor, Taehyung’s shirtless and sloppy attire, your own half-hearted attempt at dressing yourself and the marks that riddle your body that you were banking on fading completely by the time you were reunited with Jimin after their return from their meeting.

“Uh…” Taehyung trails off awkwardly. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh shit,” Jin curses under his breath. Despite having no idea whatsoever about you or Taehyung (though maybe having a better inkling than the rest of the boys), he turns hastily towards Jimin. “Maybe now’s not a good time.”

But Jimin hardly budges. Instead, he looks enlivened, jaw setting harshly in place as his brows furrow into a scowl. “Jin knows I have a spare key to your place after that one time you locked yourself out and he wanted to make sure we all met up before getting to the airport. You weren’t answering our calls, thought you were dead. Guess now I know it’s because you were too busy fucking my sister.”

“Jimin,” You hiss sharply.

Taehyung shakes his head wildly. “It’s not like that.”

“Really?” Jimin retorts. “‘Cause it sure seems like it is.”

Taehyung grimaces. “Okay, yes, but not in the way you think. It’s not some meaningless fuck. I care about her.”

But that only seems to be the wrong answer. Would there ever be a right one? Taming Jimin’s stubborn anger and protectiveness over you was hard enough on any other day. Now that he knows you’ve slept with Taehyung, Taehyung felt as if he were a lost cause.

“How long has this been happening?” Jimin asks, tight-lipped.

You can’t bring yourself to answer, neither can Taehyung, and that seems to be enough to answer his worries. Maybe if you had acted faster, said it was only a one night stand, he wouldn’t have been able to read your mind so easily. Yet your silence was enough to make you guilty.

“Shit,” Jimin runs a hand through his hair. When he speaks next, he’s looking only at you. “Do you love him?”

“I━” You open your mouth, as if to explain yourself. This time, the answer came much easier. You know what you want to say, but voicing the truth out loud in front of your brother and Taehyung, who might not feel the same way, makes you clamp your mouth shut. Whatever your answer anyway should be for Taehyung only. Instead, you frown up at your brother. “I don’t get why you’re so upset anyway. Who cares if we’re in love? Who cares what we are? It’s not like you can control me. I can make these sorts of decisions myself, Jimin. This is ridiculous.”

“No. I get that,” Jimin says firmly. “But you’re my sister, and your wellbeing comes first to me. So, Tae━” Now, your brother turns to look at Taehyung. You’ve never seen him so furious before, disappointed even, and certainly not when it comes to Taehyung. “If you care about her so much, when were you gonna let her know?”

This seems to catch your attention, sending a curious gaze between Jimin and Taehyung. “Let me know what?”

“That he’s been screwing some other chick he met at the bar a while ago,” Jimin says. “Walked in on them once by accident and, after the fact, he said some similar bullshit about how it wasn’t meaningless or whatever.”

You blink.

The blow to your chest, and subsequently your heart, makes you teeter on your frail legs. Because if what Jimin was saying was true, then were all the sweet sentiments Taehyung whispered to you even yours to begin with? Did he care about you as much as you cared about him? But, the worst part of it all, is how utterly foolish you feel. Because when Taehyung doesn’t immediately answer, your question about whether or not Jimin was telling the truth was confirmed; and you had let yourself almost willingly fall for Taehyung despite all the warning signs. Despite the fact that you had both initiated your relationship on the basis that nothing would ever blossom from it.

“Is that true?” You ask Taehyung.

The boy hesitates. He meets your stare solemnly, flinching when he notes just how hurt you seem. “Partly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You demand. But before he can respond, you scoff under your breath as you begin to gather your belongings. “Oh my god. I’m so stupid━”

Taehyung starts. “Wait, Y/N━”

“Just leave her alone━” Jimin interrupts.

“Hey. Hey!” Jin snaps abruptly, the firm tone in his voice catching the boys’ attention. “We gotta go. Now. Taehyung, get yourself decent; Jimin, in the living room. We leave for the airport in five minutes.”

You decide you no longer want to wait for an answer. Your own embarrassment is far too much to handle for the moment being, and you favour the idea of fleeing from Taehyung’s sorrowful gaze, Jimin’s heated one, and Jin’s scrutinizing scowl.

You’re long gone before Taehyung can even think to stop you.

The three days in which the boys find themselves in New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records is the longest three days of your life.

Taehyung never bothers to call or text you ━ and the looming swell of concern of awaiting to hear his voice or your brother’s or any answer of how the meeting has gone fades in comparison. Because every sweet nothing he ever said to you suddenly means nothing, and you don’t know where that leaves you.

Just when you think you can take the torture no longer, the band returns. Jimin comes bounding into your shared apartment the moment his flight lands and the taxi has brought him home, greeting you with the wonderful news that the band’s been signed, and a celebration is in store consisting of their closest friends and family members. While you initially bask in Jimin’s excitement, mirroring your own, it quickly fades as you fear you’ve lost Taehyung for good.

“You’ll come to the party, won’t you?” Jimin asks hopefully at some point. “The boys will want you there.”

You shift warily in your seat on the sofa across from your brother who stands in the midst of the room after having animatedly relaying the story of the past three days to you. You shrug now, and when Jimin shoots you a quizzical look, you decide to approach the topic cautiously, dancing over your words slowly. “I dunno, Jimin. If he’s gonna be there… I don’t know if I can face him right now.”

Jimin comes to an immediate halt. His face falls and he sinks onto the seat beside you. “Y/N… Look, I was wrong, and I’m sorry. While we were away, Taehyung and I talked and he’s gutted about what happened. But that’s all I can say. I think you should talk to each other. No, I want you to talk to each other. I know now that you’re meant for one another.”

“Are you only telling me this because you’re being your best friend’s wingman, or because you’re being my brother?” You ask, a weak lighthearted attempt at a joke.

“Both,” Jimin says warmly. “Because I care about you both, and I don’t want to have to live with the regret of being the reason two people perfect for each other aren’t together.”

And when your brother says it with such earnestness, you have no choice but to believe him.

So, despite feeling like a fool for potentially crossing paths with Taehyung again, you muster the nerve and motivation to go, and arrive at the party with Jimin later that night. The impromptu last minute party itself is held at Namjoon’s home, filled to the brim with mostly familiar faces and a few unrecognizable ones that must be acquaintances of the boys you’ve never met before. You make your rounds and congratulate the boys one-by-one, being enveloped into a tight hug with each one, safe for Taehyung whom you don’t see at first.

You’re fortunate when mutual friends of yours and Jimin’s arrive, spending the majority of the night with them as your brother wanders off to get wasted. At some point, as the night drawls on, you catch sight of Taehyung and the presence of him is enough to dampen your mood entirely. You decide you’re no longer in the mood for a party, and make haste for the door, stumbling out onto the lawn. You only make it so far, coming to stop at the foot of the curb to breathe in the cool night air around you, before you notice Taehyung hurrying out after you, calling your name.

Almost as soon as he’s able to catch his breath and you lock gazes with the boy, he asks aloud, “Where are you going?”

You hadn’t expected him to follow you, nor the terrible nearly tangible awkwardness that hangs heavy in the air. Still, the concern in his voice and the corners of his eyes softening at the sight of you makes you want nothing more than to forget all the heartache. “Home.”

“Let me drive you?” he asks delicately.

You hesitate before responding. You know the simple offer of a drive is more than that. It’s an invitation to talk to him, sort things out. And you, of course, can’t possibly deny him. As soon as you’ve followed him to his car and he starts driving, everything goes silent. It’s almost unbearable as you shift uncomfortably in your seat and gaze out the window, hoping the long car ride will pass by rather quickly. You thwart his attempts at starting any conversation by turning the radio up and letting the music ━ a mix from Taehyung’s phone filled with pop-punk and indie classics ━ fill the emptiness but it doesn’t work with distracting you. He takes a detour from the path to your apartment, driving instead to a nearby lookout point of a hiking trail, now abandoned and desolate this late at night.

It’s quiet even long after he shifts the car into park, leaving only the sound of the stereo to fill the void. Then, at long last━

“You didn’t call,” You say.

Taehyung swallows thickly. “I know.”

“That’s all I wanted. An explanation.”

“I know,” Taehyung shifts in his seat to look at you. “I’m sorry. I messed up.”

“I know I have no right to feel like you’re mine when the reason we started seeing each other was casual, but everything you’ve been saying to me lately━” You rasp, “that I’m the only one for you and that you were gonna miss me because you were tired of being alone ━ did all of it mean nothing?”

The boy’s stare hardens. “No. I was never lying when I was with you. Everything I said, I meant.”

“Then why didn’t you call?”

“Because I was scared I had lost you,” Taehyung grovels all at once, silencing you. “Because things were starting to finally change between us ━ where it wasn’t just sex all the fucking time, but something genuine ━ and I didn’t want to face the reality that it could all be gone, just like that.”

“Well, what did Jimin mean, about that other girl? Was he telling the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck her?”

“Yes.”

“And did you fuck her while you were still saying there was only me in your life and pretending you meant it?”

“I was never pretending,” Taehyung protests exasperatedly. “We had a fling, but that was months ago, when you and I first started whatever the hell this is. But Jimin was wrong. I never told him she was the one, or whatever. I said I didn’t want it to be meaningless anymore. That I want something more. I thought I had found it with that girl; but it was really with you.”

“Taehyung…” You whisper his name now, a delicate utterance.

“You can’t tell me I’m the only one feeling this way about us,” Taehyung beckons desperately. “I know you’ve been feeling it too.”

You purse your lips; then, you let out a small exhalation of air. “Tae… I think I’ve been in love with you ever since we were little kids.”

Now, Taehyung’s stare softens. He reaches out to grab at your face, gingerly pulling you into him, thumb caressing your cheek.

“I want you,” he promises. “God, I want you so bad. Do you really think I’d risk getting kicked from the band for anyone else but you? Or let anyone else tease me so bad but you?”

You can’t help but snicker. You shake your head at him as he pulls you into a kiss. He grins against your mouth and, this time when he kisses you, it’s hot and needy, a whole three day’s worth of pent up emotions and desires pouring into your every touch. Your hands fumble to undo your seatbelt and then you’re climbing over onto his lap and he’s welcoming you with open arms, the skirt of your dress hitching up higher on your thighs. Your knee, or maybe it was your foot or elbow, accidentally hits the horn of the steering wheel and startles the two of you, earning a squeak from you, before you both erupt into laughter. Taehyung reaches down to push the seat back a few inches to give you more space in the cramped driver’s seat and then he pauses to look up at you with mesmerized eyes. He kisses you again and again, as your hands come up to grasp at the sides of his neck.

“Had enough of the bullshit, have you?” he asks humorously. “Gonna take matters into your own hands?”

“I’m tired of all this teasing and chasing,” You pout. You’ve already begun grinding your hips against his, enjoying the way his face pinches in pure delight. He burrows his face into your chest, breasts soft against his head. A soft moan bubbles at your lips as you plant your own hands onto his chest. “I think so are you. We’ve both got a taste of it, haven’t we? We need to make up for lost time.”

“Fair enough,” he rasps. “What do you want from me, baby?”

“You, all of you,” You murmur. “Want your dick in me.”

“Gonna let me finish this time?” he tuts.

Your amused giggle meets his ears and he wonders how you can be both cute and sexy at the same time. “Mmm, I wanna be filled with your cum.”

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung grunts. “Okay, okay. Here━”

Somehow, he’s able to gesture to the backseat and you and him clamber your way there until you’re finally both situated once more with you straddling his lap. There’s a mutual understanding that there’s no point, nor time, for foreplay but it’s not as if either of you mind. Taehyung’s surely had enough and so have you because while teasing him may be fun for a while, it certainly can feel like torture trying to stay away from him in the meantime. You help him fumble with the belt of his jeans so that he can unbuckle them and watch as he grasps at himself, pulling his cock free. Immediately, you’re lifting your hips to pull the skirt of your dress up higher and his hands help aid you clumsily, palms gliding up the smooth expanse of your thighs.

Then, fumbling to push you on your knees before him, with one hand on the small of your back, he pulls you towards him and gazes down between the two of you as he hooks a thumb over the material of your panties to push it to the side and teases the tip of himself over your slick folds. Your hands flail outward, palms pressing against the windowpane as he somehow situates himself behind you in the cramped space on his knees. He grunts from behind you at the feeling and then slowly and carefully guides you down onto him. It takes a moment to adjust but as you sink fully down until he’s balls deep, his cock coaxed easily by your leaking wetness, the both of you come to a halt, sputtering for air.

“Wait, wait,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck━ Stay put for a sec.”

“Why?” You ask, jutting your hips backwards teasingly. “Gonna cum already?”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he mutters. He thrusts up into you without warning as payback, causing you to gasp out loud and flail forward. “No, you brat. I just want to enjoy it a little bit longer.”

He’s right. It does feel nice to finally feel some sort of friction after three days of nothing. To him, you just feel so nice and warm and snug and, to you, he fills you up so perfectly. So you stay put for a little bit, adjusting to the feeling as you kiss each other slow and steadily. His dick twitches inside you, warm and wet and so fucking hard. He’s just so big, your head is spinning. It’s almost as if you feel him in the pit of your stomach, legs trembling at the feeling. He yanks impatiently at the top of your dress, pulling it down so that the material pools at your waist now, reveling in the way your bare breasts spring free. At once, his hands are reaching around your front to palm at your breasts, grasping at your hips and navel.

“Wanna wreck you so bad,” Taehyung growls roughly against the shell of your ear as he presses his chest against your back. “Gonna fill you up so good, make your pussy all mine. How does that sound?”

“Want it so bad,” You whine, one arm hooking behind you so that your fingers can scratch at his hair. “F-fuck, Taehyung━”

When he tugs lightly at your hips, you take that as his gesture for you to move and start grinding your hips against his.

“Been waiting so long,” he hisses. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t know why you always gotta tease me.”

“Taehyung,” You choke out. “Oh, f-fuck━”

“That’s it, baby girl. Doing so well,” Taehyung grunts as your walls quiver around him. He starts grinding into you, rough snaps of his hips sending you jolting forward each time. “Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”

“Y-Yes━ God, want it so bad,” You cry out. “Give it to me harder, please, Taehyung━”

He gladly obliges, quickening his pace until he’s slamming his hips into yours in thrusts that tremble you to the core. Tears begin to prick at your eyes at the glorious sensation, your cunt throbbing with each thrust. You’re so wet, he almost slips from your walls each time he rolls his hips into yours.

“Fuck━ Want you to ride me,” he rasps at some point. “Show me how your pussy belongs to me. Can you do that for me?”

You nod blindly. You try not to whine at the sudden loss of contact when he pulls out of you, the tip of his cock glistening with both of your leaking cum mingling together, the sticky strands pulling apart midair as he fumbles. Soon, he has you straddling his lap, sinking onto his dick once more. You grip his shoulders this time, bouncing on him as he buries his face in your chest.

A sudden thought has him groaning aloud. “Your brother’s gonna fucking hate me.”

“I thought he said you talked things over,” You gasp. “That everything’s okay.”

“I don’t mean that,” Taehyung’s head rolls back, eyes squeezing shut. “He’s gonna murder me if he ever catches us like this.”

“Think he knows it happens by now,” You giggle. You moan when you drop your hips on him completely, swiveling around his dick.

“Still don’t think that means he wants to see us making love on the couch in your apartment. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you,” Taehyung points out. Then, adding hastily, “Fuck it. Can we not talk about your brother? It’s killing the mood.”

Another delightful chuckle bubbles from your lips though it’s quick to dissolve into a splintered cry as his dick angles upwards into you.

Your back arches until your chest is pressed against his. It’s almost embarrassing how fast the two of you become complete shambles, a sticky mess forming between your legs. It comes to that point where you don’t care about being careful and where you decide to adopt such a reckless pace, fucking yourself on him, your breasts bouncing wildly before him. Taehyung moans and eagerly latches his mouth on one of your breasts, sucking hard.

“Taehyung,” You whine. “I’m not gonna last.”

He hums against you, pulling you closer to his mouth and chest and wrapping you in his heat, as if to urge you on. Your mewls and whimpers ring in Taehyung’s ears as beautiful sounding as the music that plays in the background. You begin to give out, your tiredness mingling with the intensity of pleasure, and you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, huffing for air. He quickly replaces your efforts, grabbing your hips tightly and plummeting his upwards into yours so hard that you feel each thrust shake you to the core. You know you’ll have bruises in the morning but you don’t mind. You’re leaning entirely against Taehyung now, your arms wrapping around his neck, as cries of his name and choked whimpers continue to tear from your throat and mouth.

“F-Fuck!” You cry. “Taehyung, faster━ oh my god, please━”

Your pleas drown out when one long moan escapes you. You can feel the muscles in your core tighten and loosen in a constant battle that has your head swimming in a good way, your heart pounding in your chest. Taehyung grits his teeth, focusing on bringing you to your high, and, before you are able to even comprehend what’s happening, you’re toppling over the edge. You’re still on top of Taehyung, whimpering profusely and crying his name in a beautiful mantra as your high shakes you from head to toe.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” Taehyung hisses. “Cum for me. Cream all over my dick. You love it, don’t you? Love having me fill you up like this?”

“Yes, oh my god, Tae, yes━ faster, please━”

Taehyung obliges, sweat forming on his forehead. He feels you squeeze around him so tight that he fumbles for a second, sputtering for air. Then, he feels your cum pulsate out of you, leaking down his length. You’re instantly floating up high with the stars, relishing in your high and the way Taehyung rides it out as he also fights for his own sweet release. As your hips come to a stutter, he grips at your waist and pummels his dick up into your aching pussy.

His tongue continues to lav lazily at your jawline and, by the time he reaches his own high, you are beginning to cringe from the sensitivity. Yet, you hold on, pushing away the slight sting as you help coax him to his high, squeezing your muscles around him. He cums moments later, releasing into you warm and wet, crying your name.

“Fuck, Y/N━ Gonna fill you up, baby, just how you like it━”

He rams his hips up into yours for one final effort, shuddering in elation as his cock twitches every last drop of cum from it. Then, both breathless and panting, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, you slump against his chest, resting your forehead against his. The car instantly goes silent and the foreground music that was the radio comes to once more. You listen to the soft lyrics as the two of you bask in the afterglow of sex and he kisses you all over.

You don’t know how much time passes as the two of you lay there, his hands rubbing comforting circles on your hips as your own fingers trace the tattoos that ink his skin.

“You know━” Taehyung speaks up eventually, his voice a low mumble. “Gonna be extra hard not to be late getting to gigs now.”

“Uh oh.” You roll your eyes. “Think we’ve got all the time in the world now for sex, Tae.”

Taehyung grins. “I was thinking more about the fact that I’m not gonna want to get out of bed in the morning, whenever you fall asleep beside me.”

Your heart swells at his confession and you peck his cheek quickly before burying your face in the crook of his neck. It’s his own serenade of sorts, his small promise in the backseat of his car, that makes it all okay in the end.

“And,” Taehyung admits cheekily this time, “knowing we don’t have to keep us a secret anymore, even to ourselves━ I'm definitely not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you now.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

5K notes · View notes

tendousthoughts · 3 years

Text

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 4

Character(s) included: Kenma & Suna

Requested by: My sibling who doesn't read my work lmao.

Warning(s): Cursing, Mention of alcohol [Kenma]

Song of the day: Tired by Beabadoobee

A/N: First off please check out my announcements post. It has a lot of important Information in it and I would really enjoy it if you checked it out! Next this is requested by my wonderful sibling. Hopefully you all enjoy- also how's my new stuff..? Tell me if its ugly lmao.. I recommend having the palette/theme set to Goth Rave for the best look- I might make a few things a darker purple though! This might be the last part to this series unless anyone wants a few more!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann & @corporeal-terrestrial

Kenma

Things were rough after Kenma landed his dream gig. Being a full time gamer had always been and always would be his dream. But now it was reality. He finally made it in the big league. He was finally there. It was perfect.. but soon enough flaws started to appear outside of his career. Which soon turned into flaws in the relationship. Kenma was known to be smart, calculated, and quiet. Even though all those seemed nice at times it was hard. Like any relationship things didn’t always work out. One of those being the communication. To be frank, there was no communication. At all.

You liked to drink and party. Hang out with friends and just live life to the fullest.. but even if you did like that, you loved just to cuddle. Which luckily you and Kenma shared. As time grew and his career finally branched into what he hoped it would, your time of physical affection shortened. Which sucked.. you loved physical affection. It was your love language. You couldn’t help it, whenever you saw him you just wanted to lay and be with him. But now that you couldn’t, you slowly branched out to others for what you couldn’t have. When that worked.. you just stuck with it. Getting drunk with friends and cuddling until one of your more sober friends called up Kenma and told him to pick you up. Kenma hated it. He really hated it. He hated to see you holding on to someone else, it didn’t matter what they looked like, what they identified as, or who they were. All that mattered was they weren’t him so they had no right to be that close.

Kenma likes to play games and stay home. He liked to be somewhere quiet and such. So every week when he had to go to pick you up, he sorta wondered if he didn’t pick you up what would happen..? Of course he wouldn’t do so though.. you had so many people eyeing you.. you were popular with everyone and extremely kind. So if he did leave you.. it would be as easy as it was for you to get a new cuddle partner as to get a new place to sleep. He trusted you.. well he kind of did. He wasn't good at expressing how he felt especially when it came to you or something you liked.

You got black out drunk the night before and when you walked into the kitchen you felt the heavy atmosphere. “Good morning baby..” you muttered rubbing your eyes. Your lips felt dry and your throat was raspy. Maybe you were screaming or something.. whatever it was fun.

“I don’t want you calling me that at the moment.” He stated. Which caught you off guard. Looking up your eyes were met with his. Clear confusion all over your face. “What? Did you really get that drunk to not remember being all over your friend last night..? Calling them baby and shit. If that’s a name you just throw around please just refer to me as my name..” He muttered.

“Oh you know I didn’t mean too baby.. I love you and you know that.. you're the only one who makes me happy… but right now I'm having a headache so do you mind passing me the coffee..?” you muttered brushing everything to the side which only made him more frustrated with you. you did this every time. You pushed everything that wasn’t in your interest to the side.

“Look at you doing it again. You always do this,” he looked at you annoyed and frustrated. “Pushing everything to the side. Do you not understand how annoying it is to get a call at three in the morning that you're drunk. Not only that but that you're all over someone else. Do you not understand or do you just not care because seriously it's getting hard to think that you are just that, your heads just that blank.”

You were caught off guard. Of course you were, he never responded roughly like that. He never acted so upset with you. To be honest you never really thought about how he had to pick you up and stuff. You never thought about what happened the night before to be frank. You were a party drunk. You liked to sing and dance and cuddle and such. All the things Kenma couldn’t or wouldn’t do with you, you did with anyone else when you were drunk. It wasn’t that you wanted to blame being drunk on acting that way, so you just waited till you did get drunk. It was more, when you were sober you tried to get Kenma to do those things with you. Which most of the time ended badly because you would just be shut down again. “You know I don’t mean to do those things.”

“You don’t mean too?” He looked upset, really upset. You saw him upset often, frustrated with how the game was turning out and such, but this was different. He looked more hurt than anything. “You do it every week. Every single week you go out and drink you go out and party and sing and dance and have the fucking time of your life okay? Then when your all tired and cuddled up with a friend. I get a call to pick you up. When I get there you're either on their lap with your arms around them, on their side and holding them tight, or in between their legs as they cuddle you from the back. Not only that but when I try and help you up you more then half the time push me away, and then say you wanna go home with your ‘baby’! I’m getting sick and tired of it. You wake up the next morning and act as if the whole night you were just thinking of me and how you just wanna cuddle and all this shit. I am so fucking sick of you this. I’m so sick of you drinking. I am so fucking sick of you.” He was shouting. He was pissed and of course he was. But this time he just blew up. He didn’t even wait for a response to anything. “I’m going to go stream don’t fucking bug me.” He walked away walking into his streaming room. Once they slam the door leaving you in utter shock.

It took you a moment to take in everything. You messed up. It was your fault. He was hurt. Your lover was in pain because of your stupid actions. You grabbed your stuff, shoving it into your pocket and walked out. It was hard to think of anything but Kenma right now. Slowly you walked to the park. The leaves fell from the trees, when you looked around you saw couples wearing matching scarves and such. The smell of chai and pumpkin in every corner. Meeting your gaze you saw Kenma’s favorite bakery. Slowly you walked over opening the door and you immediately noticed this pie section. You made your way over biting your lip and you looked up at the sudden voice.

“Y/n.. is that you?” As you eye’s met the other you immediately recognized Bokuto.

“Oh hey.. nice to see you again.” You smiled weakly. Unfortunately your eyes were wet and glossy as soon as you walked into the bakery, and you didn’t know if you could handle pushing down the tears anymore.

“Where’s Kenma..? Are you okay..?” He asked softly, gently rubbing your back as he seemed to be alone at the moment. You didn’t wanna cause any more issues but you couldn’t help it, immediately you started to cry.

“I messed up, I really messed up..” you mutter as he gently leads you to a seat.

“Hey everything will be okay.. just tell me what’s wrong. I know you can work through it okay..? We can do it!” he smiled. He had always been a big brother to you. He knew just what to say to calm you down.

“I got drunk again and this time I just was a mess I guess.. and Kenma seems to be getting tired of me and me doing this. Doing all this dumb shit and messing around. But I just.. I don’t know. I wanna cuddle and hug and go on dates. But Kenma just got his dream job and I don’t wanna fuck it up. I know its so fucking selfish. I shouldn’t do this to him. I know I shouldn’t. I deserve to get yelled at and stuff I mean seriously.. he has to pick me up at three every fucking week because I’m to stupid to tell him how I feel and how I just want to be held and stuff. I just wonder sometimes.. Maybe I am not as perfect as I thought I was for Kenma. He needs someone who can be there for him all the time and I know I just know that I will keep fucking up..” You were shaking. “I mean seriously.. I am not even able to tell him I love him much less tell him about how his job is bugging me. It’s the one thing he wanted to do. The one fucking thing he really wanted to do. I just wasn’t able to support him.. I couldn’t.. I just keep hurting him..” tears were rolling down your face.

“Y/n.. hey it's okay, but he will never know anything if you keep holding it to yourself. Kenma has always been like that. He gets bugged by things but won’t say anything until he is at his limit. He never understood the importance of communication.. and he never ever takes the first steps okay? I understand that you're frustrated but you knew when you got into a relationship with him what type of person he is. You knew he was hard to understand. You told me you did. But I don’t think that you would give up this easily. You and him are the same, there will never be an understanding between you too if you guys don’t talk it out. Okay..? I suggest you get some pie and walk back to talk it out with him. I mean to be honest his stream today seems to be a mess. So it must really be bugging him and it would be better to figure it out sooner don’t you think..?” He smiled softly as you nodded. “Good. I have to go but look if you ever need to talk just message me okay? I’ve got your back!” He smiled, getting up and walking out.

You got up and bought two slices of apple pie and started to walk back. It was going to be tough to do this but you needed to. You knew you needed too.

Kenma couldn’t stay concentrated so the stream only lasted ten minutes before he turned it off and went back out to the living room. Which is when he found out you had left. Sadly his first thought was that you had gone drinking so he called up one of your friends to ask. When he found out you hadn’t he was even more worried. He looked around for a moment before he sat on the couch and held a pillow waiting. Hoping you would come back home. He wanted to fix this. He went too far. He knew he did. He knew he did of course he did. He knew he blew up, he always did and he tried not to but it was so fucking hard.

When you came into the room you immediately saw him lying on the couch cuddled up and crying. “What have I done..” You whispered softly as you made it next to you gently placed the pie down and looked at him. “I am sorry..” he looked up to you a bit and immediately his face changed.

“Oh thank god you're okay..” he whispered softly, “I didn’t me-”

You cut him off, “I messed up. I knew I did and I just want you to listen okay? I love you and I know I rarely say it. For a matter of a fact I can count the amount of times I’ve said it with one hand. I know I need to say it more okay? I know I shouldn’t drink but it is just really hard sometimes.. I just wanna go on dates and hold you and shit and I know it sounds so fucking stupid but sometimes I just get worried that if I do you will get sick of me faster okay..? So I just thought it would be easier to do it with my friends and stuff and get drunk and try to not bug you. You just got your dream job and I just don’t wanna fuck anything up more but I clearly have. I know I’m stupid and inconsiderate and I will think about it more.. just please don’t leave. Please. I will be better I swear.” You tried not to cry but you couldn’t help yourself.

Slowly he pulled you to him and held you tight. “I wasn’t planning to leave you anytime soon.. It is my fault I always don’t pay attention and It ends up hurting you and I know I should try and think about your feelings more. But I get scared to ask about it because I think if I do then you will think something is wrong but clearly that doesn’t work. So I will try to open up more okay.. I love you so much babe.. I love you.” He whispered softly, kissing your forehead.

“I love so so much too.. I love you..” You whispered. It would take time but soon everything would be perfect.. everything would be okay again.

Suna

It was hard to believe that Suna was still playing volleyball. It wasn’t a problem to you at all, to be frank you were glad that he decided to do something he loved. You were glad he wasn’t stuck at a desk all day. It just sucked when he came home all tired and unable to hang out. But maybe it would be the same either way. It just bugged you when he didn’t come home till like twelve and blamed it on practice. You didn’t wanna think that he was lying to you but you never really knew much about volleyball. It could be easily right but it just ticked you off that he came home so late. Claiming that he already had dinner and stuff. But there wasn’t anything you could really do about it. This was his passion. He loved to play volleyball and all you could do was give him your undying love and support.You worked hard, enjoying your job. Though it also got frustrating when your schedules conflicted so you couldn’t hang out but that was just life. There wasn’t anything you could do about it, and that was okay.

Suna got home late again. It was the middle of the night when you heard the shower start. He didn’t even say hello. He knew you were up. He had to know. You always were up when he came in. Mainly because you wanted to make sure he was okay when he got back. You wanted to make sure he got back. You were worried easily but it was going to be okay. Of course it was. You just had to tell yourself everyday and it would be true.. right?

When Suna walked into the room he slowly slipped next to you. “Sorry about the wait angel.. I promise soon I will have time off okay and we can hang out.” He muttered softly as his warm, soft arms wrapped around you. The smell of cherry blossoms radiated off of him. He used your hair wash sometimes, he claimed it made him feel like you were with him all the time and that made him happy. His wet hair touched your back as he held you close.

It was hard to be mad at him when he got like this. He was so soft when he was tired. He always made the same promise. At the beginning you believed him, you waited for it to happen but at this point you just tried to forget that he even said it because it just hurt you more. Of course it did. You were holding on to this stupid hope that he will get more time to hang out. That hope that soon everything would be okay. “It’s okay baby.. get some rest okay..?” You muttered softly. You turned your head slightly, kissing his head as you faced the front again. Closing your eyes you hoped everything would be okay once more.

The morning came quickly. The sun shone through the blinds, then the feeling of coldness hit as you turned over to the empty bed. Heh. What were you thinking? Did you really think that he was going to wait for you..? God sooner or later you really had to realize this relationship was more one sided then anything. That this thing was going to be a forever relationship. But god fuck, this was just as real as a fake relationship. It was only one when it was a relationship when it was convenient. It sucked but none of his teammates even knew about you and him being in a relationship. It sucked to feel like you were being forced to be hidden. It almost felt like he was embarrassed of you. It had gone on long enough. You were so fucking done. This was too hard to hold on.

After packing a bit you got up and grabbed your stuff. Getting up you headed out taking your car to one of your only friend’s houses. It was hard to have a conversation with him let alone try and explain how you felt. So you decided to take a night off from seeing him, and try and clear your head. You didn’t wanna break up, fuck that was the last thing you wanted to do. You decided not to leave a note.. secretly kind of hoping it would make him a bit worried or something. So you knew he actually noticed.. or actually liked you. Suna always had a ‘I don’t give a fuck’ additude and that was one of the big reasons you were drawn to him. He was always so free, he didn’t care what people had to say about him.. Something you wished you could have but it really didn’t matter because he had you back, back then.

After a few hours of hanging out your friend took your phone away from you, being that you had been waiting for a call from Suna. They powered it off and placed it on a shelf gently slipping next to you. They smiled. You and them were alway close. They had been with you for every break up and to be honest you even tried dating, though it didn’t work out it was a great experience and you would still have done it to this day. When night struck instead of waiting for Suna you actually were kind of relieved the fear of him not coming home kind of slipped off your shoulders as you laid down next to your friend. Closing your eyes you hoped for everything to get better. You wished that he would be able to get some free time and such.

On the other hand when Suna came home he did what he always did, take a shower and head to bed. But this time you weren’t there, you weren't waiting for him. He looked around almost instantly running to check if your shoes were there, which they weren’t. Now a bit shaken up he took a deep breath and walked over to check if anything else was missing. Once he did it kind of hit him harder than expected. Running to grab his phone he began to call you. It was too late out and it was pitch black, fear had settled in as he realized what could have happened. All the things that could have happened, might have happened. He immediately put on his shoes, his hair still wet. God even knows he can hear you to dry his hair before he leaves, in hope he won't get sick. He unlocked his car calling you for the third time, unsurprisingly he heard the same voice mail.

“Hey this is y/n! It seems you are trying to reach me. At the moment I might be busy or have missed your call! Please try and call again or leave a message. I promise to get back to you as soon as I can!”

It had been a wet month as the rain hit the floor but Suna didn’t seem to mind. So maybe he was being over dramatic but you never have been away from him during the night from the day you guys started dating. So for you not even to mention that you weren’t going to be home was fucking with him. He did the next best thing, calling your best friend. Lucky for him they picked up. “Hey is y/n there.. they're not picking up and I really wanna make sure they're okay..” he muttered his breath was loud. Almost as if he was having trouble breathing and such.

“Ya, do you wanna pick them up they seem to be having trouble sleeping.. and it seems like you guys need to work through a few things so maybe it would be best if you did..'' They were surprised that he called. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you or anything, it was just that it didn’t always seem like he was that interested in you, as if being convenient to them and such. So for him to call up your friend was quite unexpected.

When Suna arrived he got out and knocked on the door after being met with your friend, “I’m only telling you this once so listen to me. Y/n loves you okay? If you're not interested just let them be okay? There are a bunch of people who would kill to be with them. If you do not have the time for them please just let them be, so they can find someone who can take care of them when they need someone too. Y/n is quiet about their feelings but that doesn’t mean you can only be with them when it is convenient to you, let alone only at night. If you don’t want to step up please just step down and let someone else fill your role for you. They are hurting to much because of your actions and you don’t seem to ever fucking care. Please just let them go if you're done.. This game has been over a long time ago. You won okay. You always will be against y/n..” they moved to the side letting the startled Suna in. “They're over there, if you don’t wanna carry them it is okay just call me over because I don’t want them to be woken up.” Suna shook his head gently. How fucking dare they assume that this was all a game to him. How dare they assume that he didn’t actually love you..? Why did they assume those things..?

Suna picked you up gently, gently you clung to him and his warmth. It was cold in the room and Suna seemed to be the only solution to it. It surprised Suna quite a lot, finding out that you were clinging to him. Being that at night he always hugged you, but you just wanted to give him space so he wouldn’t be bored of you. “Hey angel sorry for making you wait all these nights.. I promise I will be there okay.. please don’t move on I really do love you.. your my everything and I know it is stupid of me to talk to you while your asleep but sometimes I get to nervous to talk to you and I just want everything to be okay with you. Your friend is right though.. There is no excuse for what I am doing to you. I am so sorry.. angel trust me I really love you. I would be so fucking lost without you.” he muttered holding on to you tightly as he grabbed your stuff and carried you out. It was still raining as he tried his best to shelter you from the rain running to the car as he placed you in the front. It took him a moment to get you comfortable or at least that what he hoped was comfortable. He had placed a blanket on you and buckled you up as he moved to the front and started driving. It was a good thirty minute drive, and he knew soon you guys had to go back to go get your car but at this moment all he was worried about was you. “God angel.. I can’t compete with everyone else after you.. why did you choose me.. why are you still with me..?” he muttered. He gently held your hand as he looked out. You were always so cold. Suna on the other hand was like a walking heat source. Maybe because he was so big that he could hold you tight and stuff and it just made it feel warmer or something but it worked better than you could imagine.

It took a bit of time but soon you had arrived, sadly the rain hadn’t eased up. Suna got out first picking you up as he wrapped the blanket around you so you wouldn’t get cold or wet. You shifted around in his arms. “mm..” you muttered your eyes fluttering open with the feeling of his arms again and the feeling of movement. You held on tightly to Suna, “Baby..?” you grumbled softly confused where you were and what you were doing. Why was he here? More importantly, how did he find you.. did he really care? God it felt great to think that he did.

“Ah I’m sorry for waking you angel.. close your eyes I’ve got you now.. that house was too cold. I’ve got you now. We are home so you can be nice and warm again okay..? Don’t worry I’ve got you now so everything will be okay. I am going to take a break from practice for the week okay..? I am going to ease up on the practice so you won’t have to worry. I love you so much. I know I haven’t been a good boyfriend and I know I need to step it up. Will I be okay? Don’t worry I am going to be better for you okay. I am sorry about everything I’ve done to hurt you and I am going to do my best to make you feel better.. and if it doesn’t help I will let go okay. I’m going to finally let you breathe but please just give me just one more chance. I know I love you, and I know I don’t show it but I promise I do. If I didn’t please tell me what was that pain in my chest when I didn’t see you, I know I sound stupid I know I do but I know I really do love you. Hearing what your friend said and I know they're right but it just hit me. I am not ashamed of you.. you know that right..? I just don't want my team to know because last time when word got out I was dating someone the pressure was to muc. on them and the new articles and stuff and I just don’t wanna pressure you. I don’t want us to end because of that. I want everything to be perfect. I know I come home late, I just.. I don’t know. I know it is too much on you and I don't want that I just don’t everything to be over because of an argument that could have been avoided if I just you know.. not came home or something. I know it is no excuse but I am telling the truth please believe me. I can’t live without you.. I love you so much please baby.. fuck. I keep rambling. I am sorry angel. get some rest we will talk about this in the morning..” he muttered softly walking inside and gently placing you in bed as he walked and changed coming back as soon as he could.

You were wide awake.. but you just wanted to wait so you knew he would still be there when you woke up. So you knew he wouldn’t be gone before anything. So you knew he wasn’t lying anymore. “Night baby..” you muttered as his arms wrapped around you.

“Good night angel.. I love you so much..” He muttered, closing his eyes.

When the morning came you were surprised when you felt his body tight around you. “Morning my angel..” he muttered. “Did you get some good rest..?”

“Good morning.. mhm.. thank you for staying.. you don’t understand how worried I was that you were going to leave before I could say anything.. But thank you. I love you so much okay.. and I don’t what my friend said but please ignore him.. I only love you.. I will only ever love you. Please try and stay home more. It is getting hard to handle and I know it is selfish but I just want you to stay longer sometimes. I know you want the best for me but please.. it makes me feel like you actually don’t love me and I know it is wrong but I get scared and I don’t want to be.. please believe me when I say that I can handle it.. I just wanna be with you more. I just want to be what you want. I love you so much..” You were trying not to cry but you were.

“Angel… I love you so much. I will tell the whole world.. I want to. Will I be okay? I will stay with you till you wake up and eat Breakfast with you. I will come home sooner so you're not scared anymore.. I’ve got you and everything I’ve ever wanted so please don’t cry.. I love you so fucking much angel..” he whispered kissing you. This felt good.. refreshing, you felt okay for the first time in a while. You felt happy. You were going to be alright now, he was going to keep you safe and you would do the same thing. You loved each other and that's all that would ever matter because you two were made for each other.

Follows and likes are appreciated! Please reblog if you enjoyed it, so more people can find my work! Thank you all for your support! Stay safe, and have a good rest of your day!

353 notes · View notes

existslikepristin · 3 years

Text

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).

#red velvet smut #kpop smut #yeri #male reader insert

407 notes · View notes

just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

Note

For the DIFFERENT POV GAME:

I want Javi’s POV on this whole adorable scene.

Okay, my Queen @quica-quica-quica, I want you to know that I suuuuucked in a huge breath when I saw this Ask, because I was entirely unsure if I could do this. It seemed like a really hard challenge, but FOR YOU I’ll try anything.

I dug in to see what I could do, and of course because I can’t just write succinctly I had to start waaaaaay back in the beginning of the story to get Javier where I needed him for the phone number scene… hope that’s okay!!

Thank you for challenging me this way! This went from scary to amazing in just a few days! I love you so much, my friend!!!

---

Coffee Shop Girl (a companion piece to “For Now” told from Javier’s point of view)

Word count: 3000+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Javier Peña x “You” (Austin coffee shop barista; cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: slow-burn; references to previous hiring of sex workers; cigarette smoking; Javier masturbating

Javier Peña felt like he was at loose ends. Not for the first time in his life, but it’s different feeling ‘lost’ as a young man than feeling ‘lost’ when you’re on the wrong side of 40. At least a teenager can still expect their whole life ahead of them. Since leaving the DEA and the fight in Colombia behind, he had been feeling directionless.

Spending some time at his dad’s ranch in Laredo had helped, the way that hard labor and sweat always does. It left him too tired to ruminate, to sink into the blues and feel sorry for himself. He had lined up a teaching job at a university in D.C. but it didn’t start until the fall semester, and Javier wasn’t looking forward to an entire blazing-hot summer on the ranch. So when his friend Bill called from Austin and offered a short contract job doing consulting for one of the state agencies, he jumped at the chance.

Javier landed at Mueller Airport at 2:00 in the afternoon on the second Saturday in June. He made his way out of luggage pickup to the Hertz desk and signed for a rental car. It didn’t take him long to find the apartment complex where Bill had arranged for him to stay. Bill’s coworker’s son had graduated from UT Austin in May, and the lease wasn’t up until August, so everything worked out perfectly. Javi could sublet for the remainder of the summer, and the apartment complex was close enough to the office that he could take the bus, meaning he wouldn’t have to put too many miles on the rental car or pay for parking downtown. A small, blandly furnished one-bedroom apartment near work was perfect. He could make it work for two months, and he had certainly lived in much worse places during his years traveling.

On Monday Javier was introduced around the office and given his portfolio of cases to consult on. He also found out that the coffee in the office was total shit. He had spent too many years drinking government-grade slop at the DEA and other agencies to put up with it now. He wasn’t one to complain, or to order any of the frilly new designer coffee drinks that seemed to be making the rounds among the ladies in the secretarial pool, but he had noticed a coffee shop between here and the bus stop. Some local place, one of those Austin things where they boasted about fair trade and locally roasted beans. If they made a decent cup of black coffee he could splurge, buy a cup on his way into the office each day.

The bus dropped him off at the corner at 7:45, so he could grab a coffee and still be on time to work at 8:00. Punctuality wasn’t always his strong suit, but Javier wanted to at least make a good impression while he was consulting. You never knew who might be a network contact to something good, and he didn’t want to screw Bill over after he had recommended him for the contract.

Tuesday Javier tried the coffee shop and found out that their coffee was not only decent for the price, it was actually good. Wednesday he went back again, this time brushing fingers with the pretty barista by accident. He offered her a “thanks” and then went on his way. Thursday he walked in and stood patiently in line behind two stoner kids trying to make up their minds between breakfast tacos and blueberry muffins. The pretty barista was there again, and she waved him over with a smile, indicating he could skip to the counter and leave the hippie kids in line.

“Black coffee, right?” Her smile actually reached her eyes, and for a moment Javier was very glad for all of the body language and psychology classes he had ever had to sit through. It was nice having a pretty lady smile at you to start your morning, and even better that this one already knew his order. She was quick, he figured, and good at her job if she had his order memorized after only two days as a customer. Not that ‘black coffee, to go’ was a difficult order, but he hadn’t expected to become a regular so quickly.

He smiled and nodded, “That’s right. Thank you.” He looked for a wedding ring and then for a nametag on her black apron, but didn’t see either one. He slid a rumpled $5 bill across the counter, larger than the singles he had paid with the previous two days, but she was nice. “Keep the change.”

He thought he saw her bite her lip as she turned away, and while she was fixing his cup he took a moment to check her out. He wasn’t some kind of pervert who would goose her from over the counter, but from what he could see she was attractive. Hell, most women were attractive to Javier. He suddenly realized it had been a while since he’d gotten laid. His last relationship was years past, and he no longer visited prostitutes regularly. Javier wasn’t a ‘reformed man’ by any means, it was just that that habit had been limited to a specific time and place in his life where he wasn’t stable enough to have a long-term relationship, and it had the added bonus of gathering intelligence.

The barista turned back to him with the cup and when she handed it off their eyes locked and their fingers touched again. He saw her pupils dilate and recognized the little spark that turned over in his own gut. Damn, she really was attractive. But Javier didn’t want to be the kind of lecherous guy who hit on a woman while she was working. Too many men mistook the minimum of customer service friendliness for a sexual invitation. Or worse, like the men who hit on waitresses on purpose since they couldn’t be outright rude to stop them. Javier suppressed a smile and took the cup from her, nodding his thanks.

On Friday when he breezed into the coffee shop he saw the pretty barista smile from behind the counter, and she immediately turned and started pouring his to-go cup. She turned back and gave him the ‘what’s up’ chin nod while holding his cup up. Javier walked up and he slid a few singles across the counter to her.

Javier gave her a warm, “Thanks,” and winked at her. That was at least a harmless bit of flirting, in line with her bright smiles and her friendliness so far. If she liked it, great; and if not, then at least he hadn’t made her uncomfortable by asking for her number or hitting on her directly. When he said, “See you next week,” she smiled that bright smile back. Javier noticed that it again reached her eyes, lighting them up just a bit more than last time. A good sign.

The weekend dragged but Javier filled it up with errands: a run to HEB for groceries and to Highland Mall for a new shirt. If there was the possibility of a date sometime in the next few weeks he at least wanted to wear something other than his work clothes. Saturday night he ordered pizza and watched a movie on TV, some lame action movie with giant muscled guys shooting way too many bullets, and of course all the curse words and a sex scene edited out for network TV. Can’t let the kiddies hear the word ‘shit’ while they’re flipping channels, but watching Stallone blow a guy’s head off is good for their growing brains. He finished his pizza and a cigarette and then felt that tug, the loose ends, a little bored.

Javier took a shower and his mind went to the pretty barista, that smile, the sparkly eyes. He thought about those eyes looking up at him through her lashes, or down at him from on top. He wondered what her skin felt like, imagining the rest of her naked, spread out, touching him all over. He felt a little bit creepy touching himself to the thought of her, hoping it didn’t make him a bad person, hoping he would see her again on Monday. But fuck it, he needed the release. Javier came, spurting hot in the steamy shower as he leaned his head on his forearm and groaned into the cold tile wall. He wished he at least knew her name.

Sunday Javier slept in and then did laundry, tidied up the apartment, and took a jog around the neighborhood. He tried to talk himself out of a repeat of Saturday’s shower. It didn’t work.

On Monday Javier lit up as soon as he stepped off the bus. The first week of the consulting gig had gone well, but today was a big meeting and he knew the agency was not going to like his recommendations. He was constantly trying to quit, but at least he had cut back recently. He was down to a pack a day and only one cup of coffee. That had to count for something, right? Maybe his doctor would finally get off his back about that.

He smoked as rapidly as he could on his way to the coffee shop, and stubbed the cigarette out as soon as he reached the big window that overlooked the street corner. He tucked his sunglasses into the top pocket of his blazer and opened the door to the coffee shop.

The pretty barista was smiling, looking right at him and already holding up his cup of coffee like a game show model holding a prize. Javier felt his heart give a little squeeze, and he smiled and winked at her again as he approached the counter.

“You psychic or something? Or am I just that predictable?”

“Both, maybe.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him and gave him a toothy grin.

Javier opened his wallet and saw that his smallest bill was a $10, but he decided not to ask for change back. She was attentive to her customers, she had surprised him by having coffee ready, and she was cute. “Great service, keep the change.”

Her face lit up and she turned to put the money in the register. Javier turned and exited the front door, and then decided to look back through the big plate glass window. She was looking at him, and Javier realized that meant that she had watched him leave. He hoped he wouldn’t have to tip $10 every time to get that look. He lifted his cup, nodded at her, and then made his way to the office.

Tuesday she had his coffee ready again, so he gave her another wink with his smile, and he thought that she purposely put her fingers in a spot to touch his as she handed the cup over. He paid with a $5 bill again, and then thought about her smile and her touch all the way to the office a few blocks north. He didn’t want her to think that the overtipping was him trying to come on to her; it really was nice to have his order ready to go every day.

On Wednesday she had his coffee ready again as soon as he walked in, but Javier supposed that was a testament to the bus schedule more than his own punctuality. This time he paid with singles. But he didn’t want her to think the smaller tip was because of anything wrong with her customer service, so he smiled a little more warmly, turning the charm up as much as he dared without just outright hitting on her. He noticed she was looking again through the glass as he left. But of course the only reason he knew that was because he had looked, too.

On Thursday Javier decided that it wouldn’t hurt to flirt a little more obviously, but to give her an out in case she wasn’t interested. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or fuck up his supply of good coffee, so he decided to take it a little slow. When he got to the corner he glanced into the window of the coffee shop and saw the pretty barista looking right at him. He took that as a good sign that she might be receptive to his flirting. He opened the door and let someone exit, then walked up to the counter. She pointed at his cup sitting on the counter in front of her, smiling that bright smile.

He arched an eyebrow up. “You trying to get rid of me? In and out so quickly?”

She grinned at him. “Depends on how long you were planning to stay. We close at 1:00 a.m. after open mic tonight. After that you gotta go somewhere else.” That was the most that she’d spoken to him yet. Javier decided to take his chance.

“And what time do you get off, after the morning shift?”

“Depends on who’s asking.” She winked and then bit the inside of her lips, like she had said something she shouldn’t have.

Javier decided to be direct. At least that would give her the chance to say ‘no’ if she wasn’t interested. He locked eyes with her and said, “I am.”

He was relieved to see her flash that big smile, all pretty soft lips and sparkly eyes. “I finish at 1:00, after the lunch rush.”

“Good to know.” He stuck his hand out to shake. “I’m Javier, by the way.” She continued to smile as she gave him her name. When she took his hand she gave a good firm shake, not like one of those women who went limp as soon as they shook a man’s hand. Javier liked her even more.

He fished a few bills out of his wallet. “Can I maybe stop by after your shift, take you to lunch sometime?”

“You can do me one better than that.” She reached down to grip the lid and spun the cup. He saw her name and seven digits scribbled in Sharpie. “My phone number’s on the cup.”

Javier gave her the eyebrows, very much enjoying how direct she was. It was nice to get a clear signal from a pretty lady, instead of having to play guessing games and worry about overstepping. He pursed his lips and nodded in approval.

“You do that for all your customers?”

“Just the best tippers.” And there was her pretty smile and her wink again, so soon after the first one.

Javier decided to give her both barrels. He put his hand out again, palm up instead of a handshake. When she put her hand in his he lifted her knuckles to his lips and pressed a soft kiss, giving her a look from under his eyelashes before he let go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Javier picked up the cup and left, and gave her a warm smile through the glass as he walked away. As soon as he got to the office he jotted her name and the number on a scrap of paper and tucked it into his wallet. He felt hopeful in a way that he hadn’t for a long time, and he rolled the cup endlessly between his palms while he considered his options. Options. Something he sometimes had taken for granted in life, until those moments where they suddenly ran out.

Javier drained the last of the coffee and then scribbled over her number with a Sharpie before tossing the cup in the trash. No sense in letting her number out into the world where some creep might find it. He smoked his third cigarette of the day out on the plaza and thought about her smile, the brush of her fingers on his, the way she approached him directly. He could use a friend in town, one who wasn’t a guy at the agency or an old college buddy. One who was soft and sweet and might be open to a date… or more. He checked his watch and calculated the hours until 1:00 p.m.

Normally he wouldn’t go back to the coffee shop until tomorrow morning, but it wouldn’t hurt to pop back over there today at the end of her shift, see if she wanted to grab lunch, right? He hoped it wouldn’t scare her off, going back so quickly. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray by the lobby door and jogged back up to his office, taking the stairs two at a time. He wanted to finish up, get this meeting over with, see if he could get over to the coffee shop before she left. He sat in the meeting, watching the clock hands spin slowly, listening to someone drone on about a budget issue that didn’t impact his work, and which could have been a memo in the first place. He felt his irritation creep up the longer the meeting went on.

Finally the meeting closed and Javier hopped to his feet. He told Bill he was headed to lunch and then jogged back down the stairwell instead of waiting for the elevator. He walked the few blocks to the coffee shop, keeping an eye on his watch. He hoped he wouldn’t miss her.

When he got to the coffee shop he opened the door and let his eyes adjust to the dim light for a moment. And then he saw her, slinging her bag over one shoulder and coming out from behind the counter. Javier smiled.

She stopped a foot away and smiled softly, “Hey.”

Javier realized he was still wearing his sunglasses, no wonder it was so dark. He took them off and slipped them into his blazer pocket. He really hoped she wouldn’t think it was weird, him coming back so soon.

“Hey, I’m glad I caught you. Are you busy, or can I take you to lunch today?”

Her face lit up. Good sign. “No, I’m not busy. I’d love to go.”

She gestured out the big window, “There’s a sandwich place around the corner, and a park we can go sit in.”

Javier felt his face split into a wide grin. “That’s perfect.”

---

Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

The only tag list I have: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis

#pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories

114 notes · View notes