#It's 01:37 am | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

usedpidemo · 1 year ago

Text

Acquainted (Red Velvet Yeri)

(Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.)

You’re just about ready to head off to sleep when you check the group chat. This is your nightly tradition. These strangers, now your closest friends despite the anonymity, are active and in good spirits, as usual. Outside of your weekday 9-to-5, these few moments are the most interesting parts of your day, and you just so happen to join during a particularly lively conversation:

> [22:48:01] yerimiese: (posts a link to a red velvet album article)

> [22:48:14] flutter mane: :sanapog:

> [22:48:23] silksong sulker: k-pop is saved

> [22:48:33] wonyoung cockjuicer: ew red velvet

> [22:48:37] wonyoung cockjuicer: wonyoung can peg me tbh

> [22:48:39] irene’s tokki: Bae J:floshedjiggle::floshedjiggle:hyun

> [22:49:06] milf hunter: :floshed:

> [22:49:11] milf hunter: gape sugalo

So of course, you chime in as well.

> [22:50:12] You: lets get it, new rv fancams

You’re in no mood to chat for longer than five minutes, but before you head offline, you receive a private message from your closest friend:

> yerimiese: so when are you in korea again?

> You: Next week, why?

> yerimiese: nice. why don’t we meet up, that would be dope as fuck

> You: You’re in Korea?

> yerimiese: yeaaaah? why wouldn’t i be?

> You: I thought you’d be doing other schedules abroad

> yerimiese: nah sm definitely won’t fly us out to film an mv. cheap ass bastards ㅋㅋㅋ

Yerimiese then sends you a video link. It’s a Yeri fancam, her weapon of choice. Your conversations began with small, intimate talks about your personal life, soon transpiring into open fapping, degrading, and casual lewdness with each other. Despite the usually depraved nature of your messages, you both continued sharing snippets of your day to day lives. That’s how close you’ve grown as friends.

> You: Well i’m very tired, today was a long day at work, had to work overtime. No time to lewd, sorry

> yerimiese: it's alright. you did well today

Yerimiese sends you a pic this time. It’s an event; the internet can’t load any quicker. You’re hungry, impatient, dying. Whether it’s intentional or not, the photos she sends whenever you’re tired or stressed out are hotter than her usual swimsuit or photoshoot reel. You’ve shared enough about your daily routine to her that a camera crew might as well be recording you.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary; a simple candid pic of herself lying in bed, her face perfectly cropped out of the background, showing nothing but her body on full display in front of the huge mirror, dressed in skimpy black panties and a white shirt that accentuates her shapely breasts. As usual, she’s not wearing a bra; you can clearly see her hard nipples demanding all of your attention.

> yerimiese: no need to send a dick pic tonight if you don’t feel like doing it

You can’t help it. Tired as you are, you feel obligated to send her one. Luckily, every pic she sends is more than enough to make you instantly hard. It feels more guilty not to be turned on, rather.

It’s a mostly quick and painless affair, powerful enough to put you out of commission within minutes. Even though you’re mentally checked out, Yerimiese’s sexy body is too hot not to crank one out. Taking a pic of your erect cock as you pump yourself to her is second nature; sending it on sticky fingers after you’ve spurted all over your phone and blankets is a different story. There’s no other way to put it, she was the perfect reprieve from the day’s exhaustions—a perfect high note to go out on.

> yerimiese: fuck you’re THROBBING THROBBING tonight :ningasm: your dick looks so damn nice. i can taste your cum through the screen

> You: Happy now?

> yerimiese: more than, and then some. I wish you were here right now so you could feel how wet I am

> You: Just wait. I can’t wait to fuck you hard. Goodnight

> yerimiese: goodnight

> yerimiese: :tukkwithkiss:

—————

The next time you’re able to communicate with her, you’re one day away from being in Korea. In that period, you’ve been inactive in the group chat because work. What welcomes you back is a barrage of lewd photos and Yeri fancams.

> yerimiese: see you tomorrow :chuupeek:

It’s an open secret that you know she’s Kim Yerim. Yes, that Kim Yerim of Red Velvet fame. It was a giveaway right from the first explicit photo she sent you; those tits in a tight, petite package couldn’t have belonged to anyone other than hers. That, and the fact that her username is the same as her Instagram handle, and that she has a photo of herself in the group as a display pic. How she would end up stumbling into your private K-pop server objectifying her body and her profession is one of life’s biggest mysteries, yet here she is, giving you a very personal look into her shapely figure, better than any fancam and photoshoot could ever provide. To others, she’s merely a casual acquaintance, but to you, she can freely open up herself.

Mainly because you’re one of three people in the group chat that still cares about Red Velvet.

Her latest sent photo is relatively tame; a tight fitting white silk sundress, and the skirt is virtually nonexistent, her panties practically out in the open. Luckily for you, she seems to be sitting down, but not in her usual living room. The notion that this is what welcomes you to Korea, that you’ll be balls deep inside an idol’s pussy right when you land—it ruins you.

Almost.

An airport guard manages to break your deep train of thought. “Sir! No phones please,” he sternly commands, saving you from total disaster; you’re inches away from walking straight through a metal detector with your phone in hand, the belt around your pants, and some spare coins lying deep in your pocket after you bought some traditionally expensive bottled water. Luckily, no one manages to see the photo—and even if they did, she’s still smart enough to cut out her face, leaving nothing else to your imagination.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about immigration and airport security, it’s that there’s little need for repetition. You go through security four times. At the entrance, after the check-in counter, then within your departure gate, and even before boarding your flight—repetitive. It’s frustrating enough to tell Yerim, to which she responds with more lewd photos of herself.

> yerimiese: yeah ive been there before ㅋㅋㅋ

> yerimiese: how long’s ur flight?

> You: About 13 hours

> yerimiese: cali?

> You: Yes

> yerimiese: kinda random, but seulgi misses los angeles

> You: How come?

> yerimiese: something about an ex-boyfriend that i didn’t know about until the other day ㅋㅋㅋ i bet she’ll be jealous when she hears about you coming over just to clap my cheeks ㅋㅋㅋ she’d wish it was her bf instead of you

> You: does she know about this?

> yerimiese: of course not LOL i bet you’d rather fuck her instead of me, so she’ll never know. smh.

> You: That’s not true ur my RV bias since day one!

> yerimiese: stop lying LMAO i don’t blame you tho seulgi has some really toned legs and a nice slappable ass XD anyway, i’m gonna send you something to pass the time while ur onboard

> You: If it’s a masturbating clip i swear to god

> yerimiese: fuck you got me LOL

> You: Goddamit if anyone finds out on a plane of all places…

> yerimiese: i still can’t get over your clip of you jerking to me. i can taste your dick. you’re depriving me by leaving me out to dry for a week ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’ve been touching yourself to that clip for a week??

> yerimiese: can’t help myself, album prep has been tiring and i haven’t really found any opportunity to relax in the meantime

> You: I’ll be there soon, just wait a bit longer

> yerimiese: can’t trust me with that, i’m very close to making a huge mess of my hotel room ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’re in a hotel?

> yerimiese: just to meet you! I won’t be able to meet you at the airport (duh, idol dating shit), so this is the next best thing. just message me when you’ve landed here, okay?

> You: Sure

—————

It’s ingrained deep within Yerim’s mind. A core memory. If her phone could present count how many times she’s played the clip, it would be over a thousand.

It’s very straightforward. A 45 second clip of someone masturbating between the sheets, pressing their erect cock against their phone with a brightened image of a scantily clad woman on the screen. But it’s not just any woman, it’s her. She’s pleasuring herself to the idea of a man jerking off to her. She’s following his rhythm, timing the pace her fingers rub her clit to the tempo of the man’s cock pumping to her zoomed-in breasts.

And she’s mere minutes removed from a conversation with that exact same person.

Slumped against the hotel room walls, her bliss spirals out of control rapidly. Her legs are instinctively spread wide, juices already leaking through her panties and spilling to the floor; that’s how used they are to Yerim’s impulses to pleasure herself. In those brief moments, she imagines how the next few days play out, skipping past the formalities and pleasantries and going straight to the fucking. She moans and shouts as if that very man’s cock is penetrating her pussy hard at this very moment. Her other hand bashes the wall, tongue screaming streams of profanities, as if he’s manhandling her, using her to his personal delight.

“Fuck! Suck those fucking tits!” she screams, slipping one strap of her sundress down to pinch her own tit, enhancing the illusion. Her phone rings; in her mind it's functionally a vibrator. He’s come fully prepared, and she’s riding high knowing that this person is doing exactly what he said in their private messages from the very start.

Yerim drags her fingers along her clit violently, desperate to reach climax, the realization that this is her third orgasm of the day way beyond her. The evidence can be found everywhere: on the soiled bed sheets and in the smell of the shower; she envisions herself getting railed in those parts of the room, and then some—essentially turning the entire hotel room into the backdrop for all of the things he’d do to her: fingers around her throat, sunk into her ass, until it’s red and hurting, the way she’d quiver and cream all over his throbbing cock. Her neediness has no limits; it even breaks past her very own personal quarters, the loudness of her own self-induced pleasure drawing concern from occupants nearby.

Only after the blissful haze of orgasm does everything fall back in place. That repetitive knock on the door is a huge wake up call. Yerim’s eyes widen.

“Shit.”

She checks her fingers—they’re coated in copious amounts of slick—and after a little further inspection, she realizes the aftermath.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

—————

Being honest about yourself, you couldn’t have asked to feel hornier at a worse time than this. Thirty thousand feet high up in the air, stuck in economy class because you don’t get paid enough to deal with the bullshit back in the office. Using your one of two allowed leaves in the year for a trip to see a girl you’ve mostly known online, and it isn’t even paid. To make things worse, there’s no layovers—just a point-to-point flight from San Francisco to Seoul. 13 hours.

And boy, is the ride absolutely miserable.

By what you might as well call divine intervention, you’re conveniently seated between a nun and a little girl—the two worst kinds of people to be alongside with. No, not because they’re annoying or anything like that; aside from the girl getting up every thirty minutes from her window seat to get something from her parents across the aisle, you’re practically barred access to your glorified archive of lewd Yerim pics. Opening them up with a kid barely in the first grade beside you is openly asking for trouble.

And the few times you get up for a lavatory break, you can’t get yourself going. There’s always someone at the door every five minutes.

Eight hours deep into the flight, you look over your shoulder, catch one of the male flight attendants sneak inside one of the vacant lavatories with a fellow stewardess while everyone’s fast asleep. Fucking sickening. That should be you with Yerim right now.

When you arrive on the other side of the planet, you’ve gotten only a couple hours’ worth of sleep. You almost fumble your passport at immigration, getting them mixed up with a slew of business and membership cards. Then there’s your forgetfulness working against you, remembering you need some kind of pocket Wi-Fi, and now you have to spend a little more to get back online. It’s a mess, and it wasn’t that long since you were in Europe for a seminar, where these things were merely second nature to you.

At least you remembered that VPNs exist. You message Yerim on the taxi ride out of the airport, unsure of where to begin.

> You: Just got out of immigration

> yerimiese: fuckin finally!

> yerimiese: you got a place to stay here?

> You: Not yet

> yerimiese: don’t bother, lemme send you my hotel address, you can stay here

Of course you don’t know Korean, despite the constant back and forth with Yerim for months. Learning’s been on the backend of your itinerary, and has never been your top priority, even now. You show the cab driver the address, who merely looks at you and the phone with a particularly vacant and dumbfounded expression, as if you’re stupid for not planning this out—which, in that regard, he’d be correct.

When you finally arrive at the hotel, only one message stands between you and finally meeting Yerimiese, once and for all.

> yerimiese: I’ll be at the poolside, third floor. can’t wait to meet you :P

And that’s exactly where you end up going. Forget that you’re lugging two whole bags and a traveler’s backpack on your shoulders; you drop them off at the front desk, expecting the staff to have a clue of what’s going on and what’s about to happen.

Stepping out into the poolside, it’s a completely barren sight. It’s three in the afternoon on a Tuesday; most people probably aren’t even booked, let alone in this supposed five-star hotel. You don’t really question whether she’s being serious or not, the evidence was in the previously sent photos; you’re dying to meet her at this point.

And as if perfectly timed for dramatic effect, a woman emerges from beneath the waters, shaking off the wetness from her damp hair.

Yerim casually swims over the deep waters’ edge, without a care in the world, let alone your presence quietly shadowing over the large pool. Even halfway submerged, you can make out the outline of her shapely bust and hourglass figure, tightly hugged by a pink swimsuit. She was sultry and intoxicating to gawk at from candid photos, but seeing Yerimiese herself in the flesh, that’s when the realization hits you: this is happening.

And you can’t move a muscle, let alone react from the actualization that you’re right in front of her. Even as the waves of water splash on your new loafers, you simply observe. It’s creepy, it’s morally dubious, but it’s one in a million. You’re taking in every moment, every second; soak it all in, you’ll never get an experience like this ever again.

You should be friends by now, if your definition of friendship means sharing explicit body photos and exchanging devious intentions about how you’ll fuck each other online or how much cum you’ve given to each other. But when she turns in your direction—catching you casually observing her, your hands tucked away in your coat’s pocket, grinning like a little kid— it’s back to square one.

Like the very first time.

Yerim takes all the time in the world to wade over from the other side of the pool, her smile growing closer as she approaches you. She lifts her eyebrows, expecting you to make a first move, to which you barely open your mouth, and ultimately only a deep breath, a stilted sigh, comes out.

Well, this is awkward.

Yerim giggles. You’ve previously heard her loud moans and cries, but a genuine laugh—this was your first. She never hops on calls in your group chat, most likely because idol shit, as she often refers to her line of work. Her laughter, her energetic expression—it’s as perfect of a translation to real life as it is online, and embodies the idol Yeri you know on screen.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asks, trying—and failing—to suppress more of her laughter.

Your answer is concise, but doesn’t seem quite right. “A while.”

In reality, about five minutes. You probably won’t be there any longer when she props herself out of the water with her strong elbows. Water cascades down her shapely figure, thicker and meatier than it's ever been, more than what the cameras and pictures present. She’s truly the entire package, through and through.

She walks over to her sunlounger, granting you a nice peek of her ass peeking through her skimpy swimsuit before she wraps herself with a towel. Apart from that, your only other notable observation is that she’s soaking wet, even bundled up. That, and also: she’s barefoot. No sign of slippers or any footwear—she willingly walked on what appears to be scorching cobbled floors.

“I would give you a big hug right now, but you know—” she comments, looking down at her drenched self, pool water endlessly dripping down to her feet. Even if she isn’t soaking wet, you’d still be frozen in place, or even worse, some eagle-eyed stranger or Dispatch reporter catch you in secret and you both end up on national news the very next day.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you say, trying to dodge Yerim’s eyes. “I left my stuff at the front desk. I should probably go and grab them.”

“Smart.” Yerim sizes you up, nodding in amazement at how you’ve managed to get yourself past the entrance. “See you upstairs, then? Room 1015.”

—————

The difference between you and Yerim couldn’t be any more obvious.

Granted, you’re fresh off a 13 hour flight, followed by an hour's travel from the airport to a five-star hotel in the heart of Seoul. Yerim had all the time in the world to prepare, and yet when she emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a modest bathrobe and her dark hair bundled up, she’s never looked better.

Facing an idol in such a haggard condition, it gives you an underlying feeling of shame. And if you’re being completely honest, if not for your cock, she’d probably be repulsed and call security on you.

But there's no security in sight. Just you, just yeri, the two of you standing in this room - which is, for the most part, quite nice. Multiple bedrooms, a lovely view of the city beneath you, and all sorts of amenities and features you’ll never get to use—you half expect her members to come in later, but perhaps for your sake, you’re better off with just her and her alone.

When Yerim begins to talk, she rambles. She goes on about the status of the next album, discussions about a possible solo debut, her relationships with her members—conversations about topics that you never really had online. It was mostly dirty talk and lewd captions. At best, you knew each other at a surface level, but here she is, sharing everything from her heart like you’ve been lifelong friends since day one.

You let her. She’s as charismatic as what she portrays on screen, and her sass is no different than the private messages she sends you. There’s not a single dull moment whenever Yerim speaks. Though you know her mostly for her body, her personality is what has you sticking around.

You wonder if she feels the same way about you.

“So, how’d you find out about us?” Yerim asks, after blabbering for a while, and you genuinely believe she’d keep going till nightfall. Close enough. Five minutes away from five in the afternoon, and you’d already spent the last hour and a half listening to a personalized podcast from her. You hope she doesn’t notice the plate of bulgogi on the table now completely empty.

“Well, a friend was a K-pop fan and had an extra ticket when you toured here,” you say, casually, slumped on the sofa. “Forgot how long that was—” you pause, “five years ago?”

“Five years? Five years since we went to America?” Yerim appears flabbergasted, face in utter disbelief at the passage of time. The realization causes her to stand from her chair. You’d be too after listening to her drone on endlessly. “Fuck.”

“SM! Give us a fucking world tour already!” she screams, pretending she’s inside the company building and you’re an executive in the room. Watching her snarkiness come to life never ceases to amuse you. You’ll let her go on for as long as she needs to; she’s entertaining in such a unique and charming way that it disarms you.

“Argh, sorry, you know me.” She suddenly stops, faces you, arms crossed, mocking up a pout. “Look at me suddenly losing my shit for no good reason.”

“Are your members used to this?”

That didn’t come out right.

She bats an eyelid. On her face is a mild, blank look of displeasure. That didn’t come out right.

“Used to what?”

“Well, uh, I—I mean—”

You gulp your throat.

“Stop.”

Then, an air of awkward silence. Her eyes quickly scan you, lazing on the sofa.

“Let’s just get to fucking each other right now.”

—————

It isn’t that you’ve forgotten the one purpose you’re there to begin with, it’s that Yerim is very, very impulsive. One moment, upset at her company for doing the bare minimum for her group and her career, the next she’s using you as an outlet to release her frustrations. It’s a good thing your first impression of her was that she was very busty, because otherwise, the other description you had of her was—simply put—bratty.

You’re on your back, plopped against one of the beds, completely caught off-guard by her show of strength. Eyes rolled to the back of your head, you find Yerim already at the bed’s edge, loosening the belt around her waist, quickly disrobing herself within seconds. It’s nothing new; you’ve seen glimpses of her nude figure in pictures, imagined many scenarios where you’ve got your hands on her, but this—to see her completely bare in the flesh—is new.

This is different.

“Just so you know,” you mutter, frantically panting, your heart jumping, as Yerim undresses in front of you, “I haven’t actually had sex before.”

Just like that, the mood instantly changes. She stops. Abruptly.

“What?”

Her mouth drops—again. Might as well stay agape.

You consider retracting your statement. It was a joke, you’d say, something to get her even more aroused, fired up. The sex would be wilder, hotter than anything your fantasies would conjure. Then again, you wouldn’t be in this exact situation if you weren’t so chronically online, simping over pop idols like a kid about to enter puberty.

“I guess that’s to be expected,” she comments, snarkily, grabbing the edges of your pants, daring to rip them off you. “That’s fucking life, baby!”

If you were in her shoes, obsessively waiting for someone with equally unhinged horniness, expressing precisely how you’d get fucked every single time you’d send a remotely lewd photo, you’d feel just as disappointed. You can tell by her partially scornful expression: she’s been fantasizing this moment as much as you have, too. You can’t blame her, but you kind of expected her to anticipate this; after all, you connected in a private group chat that’s been sexualizing her, of all places.

Surely the signs of virginity were right there.

“At least this is real,” she says, leaning her head forward while cupping your growing bulge poking through your trousers. Your tip, at full mast, mere inches away from her chin, instead of a little phone screen. She’s pushing you around, growing slightly more mischievous and uncontrollable with the prospect of throwing someone like you around instead of the opposite. Something her members may have taught and ingrained in her.

It isn’t quite the picture you expected from all the erotic snapshots and clips she’s been sending you. Every photo and video, designed to rouse the filthiest and wildest of your thoughts, was an act, a ruse to let your guard down, to give you this fixed headcanon that you can toss her around like she’s your personal plaything and object of pleasure. Instead, she’s using you for her own desires and wants.

It’s not that you don’t want her to use you and fuck you like this, it’s how completely in control she is that has you reeling, leaves you in a dizzy spell.

“I was gonna let you use my pussy and fuck me to ruin,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, teasing and mocking. Her hand grips around the denim of your bulge, and it fucking stings. You’re sucking on loose air. “But since we have a virgin over here, I’m gonna do whatever I want.”

The implied connotation is what terrifies you, and no, it isn’t the revelation that Yerim isn’t a virgin—you assumed that much—but the notion that you were gonna have free reign over her cunt that has you contemplating some deep, long forgotten life decisions that set you back years. Their consequences are now starting to show.

She releases her ironclad grip on your pants, frees you of your obstructive clothing, both trousers and boxers down to the floor. Your hard cock springs free, terribly aching, already red and sore from her suffocating clench, and already leaking bursts of precum. The last day and a half hasn’t been kind to your cock.

To add insult to injury, she makes this licking motion with her tongue, aimed at your tip, but relents at the last minute. It leaves your throbbing cock aching harder, without any point of relief. The teasing sight almost renders you unconscious, and sends Yerim into a laughing frenzy.

“Remember when I said I could taste your cock?” she says, chuckling. It’s not playful in the slightest—quite the opposite, in fact. It’s sinister. “I’ll wait a little longer to taste it. Don’t worry.”

Not the most reassuring of words, especially when you’ve got your hands tied—at least, not yet. Actually, you appreciate that she isn’t going to milk your cock dry just yet; when you finally look past the situation at hand, you come to treasure her chest. Her shapely chest, freely bouncing while she bounces her thick body on your lap—keep doing that, you say inside your mind, letting your wandering gaze soak in the unreal scene.

She notices your intrigued eyes, rising and falling in rhythm with her tits. Subtlety was never your intention, and she probably knows from experience, as she says she does. Fixated attention is how she gets herself off, based on how she seems to respond to the lewd messages you’ve sent her in the past, and it shows when she repeats some choice remarks back to your face:

“I’d kill my boss to fuck those tits right now, you’re so goddamn sexy.”

She grips a hand around your throat, another down to the buttons of your shirt, pulling them apart.

“Let me be your personal titty towel.”

Halfway there.

“I’d suck on your tits first, go down on your delicious pussy, then fuck that wet hole of yours three times straight.”

Just like that, you’re both even. Equal in nakedness.

You’re unsure whether it’s the sight of Yerim asserting her dominance over you, tits all up in your face with a devious smirk as she bares you down to your essentials that’s leaving you short on air, or if it’s the hand cautiously coiled around your neck. Either option seems sensible enough. This is how she lives in your head rent free, just being her sassy, sexy self. Even repeating some of the same particularly questionable lewd things you’ve written to her sounds hot with her brazen tone.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she raises an eyebrow, leaning her head close, as if demanding an answer.

Really, there’s no multiple choice here. Of course you nod.

She rolls her hips upward, inches her body across yours little by little, til her dripping pussy completely shadows your view. Her hand grabs the back of your head, meaty thighs pressing between your face. Now you’re truly suffocating. Even with the rather shameful admission, she rolls her crotch on your lips, expecting you to know what to do. No words, just the expectant grind of her crotch on your face, her wet folds opening up for you to take them.

Then, she begins moaning.

Admittedly, the closest you’ve had to trying out oral is using your phone as an outlet for your tongue whenever she sends a boob photo. Thankfully, your inexperience doesn’t show when you first dip your tongue inside her folds, getting your first taste of pussy. Saltier than you expected, but fuck, you’d be lying if you think it wasn’t completely intoxicating—everything you hoped for, and more.

It incites a few expressive reactions from Yerim—some loud, others quieter—with the end result usually a sharper, deeper grind of her waist on your face, splaying her cunt for you to devour. You’ve got one hand pressed on her ass, holding her plump flesh down while the other is at her mercy, pulled by hers, forced to squeeze her breast. You won’t complain. Not when her cries of pleasure motivate you to push yourself harder.

You repeat this addictive cycle, stretch moments into minutes, minutes into hours. Even when you’ve drained her completely, you’ll still be craving for more of her; that’s how hungry she’s made you. Your tongue meets her clit, and it draws out this especially sharp whine that she’s never hit once. Not on a track. Not anywhere. She swears up a storm, juxtaposed between soft, gentle pleas of “yes, more, and you’re so good.”

In return, you take more of her, soak yourself in the continuous downpour of her slick juices freely flowing all over your mouth and tongue. As her pleasure escalates, her fingers tighten their grasp on your head, grab your tousled hair. You add soft, intimate kisses between streaks of licking her folds, and they send the young idol writhing, shaking atop you. Her words have been reduced to nothing but short, needy bursts of “please.” Even in this uncontrollable state, she gyrates her hips around you, rhythm steady, but more determined than ever to let herself go.

By the way her pussy throbs, you’re certain she’s a few critical points away from climax. It doesn’t change your plans, not one bit. You continue to lap at her sensitive folds, bask in her intoxicating heat, purposefully teasing her clit. She won’t demand that you end her —not this quickly, not when you’ve magically learned the art of giving oral to a woman under short notice.

You slowly work her through it. Your tongue dives into her slick entrance, deeper than it's ever been so far. The overpowering sensations send ripples that reach even the foundations of the bed, unlike anything it’s ever felt. Even in the wild throes of bodily pleasure, Yerim has enough willpower to stay in character, delivering a demand in her usual playful, fast talking tone. “Please do it! I’m going to cum!”

You contemplate the thought, completely drunk in her divine taste yourself, but you oblige.

Your tongue sticks to her bud, and it causes this instantaneous, elaborate chain reaction. Yerim cries a sharp cry, waves of orgasm washing down all over her body. She stops in her tracks, completely rigid, mouth wide open, and this torrential gush of slick and orgasm swamps you, drowning you so deep that it's nearly fatal. Her thighs involuntarily clench tighter, too, and you’re temporarily trapped in your own pocket dimension, impossible to clean with all the cum left behind, especially on the sheets.

The most surprising observation from her orgasm is how suddenly calm it becomes. Only the sound of your tongue licking her clean can be heard, and it’s nothing but a gentle rustle. She hangs her head up, face completely flushed, catching needed oxygen in her lungs, letting the aftermath of her climax pass over.

While her breath normalizes, she lifts herself up, moves to the side of the bed. In her wake, she’s left behind a drenched lake of slick around your face, leaking down to the muddled sheets beneath you.

“Well,” she says, panting and pausing for air. “There goes the other bed.”

It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out what she meant. Even when you’re still mindlessly occupied by the sticky residue around your lips. You let out this muffled exhale, designed to be a laugh, but it backfires in your face. Amused, she giggles on your behalf.

“Not bad.” Yerim smiles at you. Charming and cute, a contrast to what had just transpired. “I thought you said you never had sex?”

It takes you a moment before you answer back, “I haven’t. You just taste really good.”

“You still have some left on the edges of your face,” she comments, her eyes mesmerized by how much she’s cum all over you. “Let me help you clean that up.”

And she helps, but not in a conventional way. She lifts you from the bed by your torso, then submerges you again, this time at the mercy of her bosom. You’ve got your arms wrapped around her waist while you’re kissing and sucking on her Yerim’s tits, not exactly tidying up, but creating a larger mess that no amount of tongue cleaning can resolve.

In the meantime, she whispers in your ear some of your more—questionable—comments:

“They need to give her a solo debut with a very sexy concept and trust me, I’ll be the guy who breaks the world record for jerking off if they do that.”

“It must feel heavy to carry them all the time. Let me lend a hand to you.”

“The only thought I had inside my mind when I saw her is every member would milk her 3x a day so that they don’t have to go outside and buy milk to eat cereal to the point they would just drink it from the source.”

You stop. You give her this strange, confused look. Even you couldn’t believe you said that.

“Did I actually say that?”

“Yes!” she replies, quick and straightforward, unable to hide her enthusiasm, while brushing your hair. “Not gonna lie, that sent me to the floor. I was laughing so hard, Irene ran in to check up on me!”

To make things worse, she flashes this wide, toothy grin that makes you regret your life choices.

“God. I don’t wanna drink anymore.”

“Hey, if there’s any consolation, you wouldn’t be sucking on my tits and eating me out now if you never made that comment,” she says, caressing your chin and giving you a peck on the lips. As if it’s still not one of the most out of pocket comments you’ve ever made about anyone, let alone a celebrity—and you weren’t fully yourself.

“Relax. Don’t think about it too much.” Yerim pushes you back down to the bed, crawls atop you, meeting your lips again for an intimate kiss. Your hard cock, which has been left unattended for quite a while, captures your attention—and especially hers. “Lean back for me, will you?”

You comply. Involuntarily, your legs straighten, but Yerim pushes them apart, places herself at center view, seemingly ready to take you in her mouth. It makes sense; a woman with a mouth that runs like hers probably only stops when there’s cock stuffed inside them. The theory proves to be plausible when she gives your sensitive tip a delicate, yet dangerous lick, her eyes glinting at you with renewed vigor and lust.

“I told you I’d have a taste of that cock,” she says, half smug, half seductive, gloating with her brows. Your tenseness slightly recedes—until you realize your cock’s moving past her lips, in the direction of the space between her cleavage. “I didn’t say I wanted to suck on it.”

And she was right—not once has she ever expressed her desire to choke, gag, deepthroat on it.

You grit your teeth, watching your cock disappear between her shapely tits, with Yerim personally making sure you comfortably fit like a glove. You fold. It’s snug. Hot. Breathtaking.

“Fuck, Yeri,” you mutter, closing your eyes as her inviting warmth leaves you weak in the knees, trembling. You don’t realize you’ve used her stage name over her real name. “God—”

“Does this feel like everything you wanted?” she asks, tone sultry and triumphant. A little slide up sends you into a frenzy.

You nod—even though there’s no other available options. The erotic image in front of you is permanently seared into your head: Kim Yerim, popular idol and to an extend, your ‘friend with benefits,’ grinning like a maniac, slowly fucking your cock between her tits, coated with your saliva, sweat, and copious amounts of precum. To think your little crude messages on a random forum would have such long term and drastic consequences such as this.

Not that you’d want to make sense of it all, especially when she gets into a rhythm. Sliding her breasts up and down, she’s delicate, intentional, and masochistic; you’re on the receiving end of how she felt when you were slowly eating her out. She’s dangerous, teetering between the line where your cock can be safe between her bosom and where she can break you in half. You’re already falling apart—and fast.

“Holy shit, Yerim. Fuck.”

Each word you deliver is long and drawn out, especially the profanities. Heavenly music to her ears. She’s out of reach where you can pull by her hair, so you settle for the sheets instead. Your gaze wanders, travels everywhere but in her direction, because you don’t need to see the tortuous scene happening between your legs. Looking at the descending sun, this is probably the last time you’ll see the sun set in your life.

Her eyes challenge you to look at anywhere from her. Panting frantically, you find yourself at the mercy of Yerim’s whims, your cock fading and swelling into view, sticky and wet, gushing cum all over her tits. The sight drives you further mad, has you making sounds that have never been recorded—ever. She takes you in, delights in your suffering, eager for you to say the magic words.

“Ready to cum? I know you want to cum.”

Even under duress, you’re not ready to fold just yet. There’s a little stubbornness inside you fighting back, pulling all the stops to keep you from surrendering to Yerim’s demands. You close your eyes, grip on the sheets even tighter, control your breathing, but it’s too little too late. You can only do so much with two hands.

“Cum for me.”

You hold onto a particularly deep breath, desperate to cling to whatever dying vestiges of control there is left, but your fate has already been sealed from the moment you’ve allowed your cock to enter her chest.

“Yerim, I—”

The exhale you release is the most relieving and satisfying. With it, comes out a rope of thick, creamy cum splashed all over her neck and chest. The aching, violent sensation doesn’t stop; more seed spills between the warmth of her cleavage. In one fell swoop, you feel all of your energy sapped from you, leaving you completely weak and powerless.

In the gap between your climax and post-orgasm haze, you wonder if she’ll take some of your cum in her mouth, with the way she looks at your cock as it throbs beneath her chin. No. She lets it drip down her perfect naked body with a sticky white sheen that glows under the natural light piercing through the hotel’s window.

“Just like that, hm,” she comments, casually flicking the last of your withering orgasm and cum with her wrist. She lathers the slick on her fingers on her shoulder, then places some into her mouth for a taste.

After you regain a semblance of normalcy—after Yerim’s finished entertaining herself with your cum, staring at her coated body and fingers with curious interest—she rests her elbows on your knees, in the process of relearning how to bend. You sink back against the headrest, watch as the fading sun glimmers on an idol like her, destined to shine for every occasion possible—on the stage and under the afterglow of sex. She smiles, bright and wide, taking you in, as you are.

There’s something brewing, especially in the tender few minutes that follow. Something special, something more than just a spark.

“So—” Yerim runs a sticky finger on your knee, dangerously close to stirring up your cock again. “You wanna try anal with me next?”

You pause. Widening your eyes, staring back with a look of disbelief. Just when you’re about to open your mouth to reply, she adds:

“Kidding. You do know that you’re gonna have to delete those tweets and comments, right? If they find out you’re here, you’re fucked. And I mean, a thousand times worse than now.”

—————

(A/N: This was an absolute joy to write. The nature of the request meant I could go very meta with it. About time we get a proper Red Velvet full album, so perfect timing! If you're able to figure out some of the references and easter eggs, then you, my friend, are too engrossed in the Tumblr K-pop male reader smut lore. Thank you for reading!)

(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)

#smut #kpop smut #yeri #red velvet

694 notes · View notes

summers-art · 8 months ago

Text

Down The Line

From Kaleidoscopic Absolution (@silverfanzine)

▼▼ Formatted the chatlog fic for tumblr down below ▼▼

Silver:

Sep 14 1:53 AM

> where are you guys?? > i heard that Sages robots was coming your way so watch out! Not delivered Sep 14 1:55 AM > shit > ofc she blocked us > i really hope that you and the rest of chaotix found the others > im on my own but ill find my way back to you guys Not delivered Sep 14 2:12 PM > this is bad > the armies just keep regrowing and now more and more roads are getting blocked off with all these walls popping up its likea maze! > i dont think i can fly without being spotted… ill have to get back to the old HQ on foot Not delivered

Sep 15 8:06 AM > DONT GO BALC TO THE OLD HQ > HSE HAS TKAEN IT TOO Not delivered Sep 16 12:01 AM > WHERE ARE YOU GUYS > i hope you got out of there safe > if not i > ill keep looking!! Not delivered Sep 18 11:04 PM > WHY > UUGHHH > JUST > PLEASE be safe Not delivered Sep 21 3:00 AM > i dont know if we can keep up like this > not that i dont believe in you guys!! > but maybe the only thing i can do right now is try to go back and fix this thing > somehow Not delivered Sep 21 4:47 AM > im so sorry > ill try to not mess it up this time Not delivered Sep 21 5:28 AM > ill be back Not delivered i promise Delivered

Espio:

Sep 13 10:09 PM > Silver, we have secured the rendezvous point. Team Chaotix and a few other members of the resistance are here. Not delivered Sep 13 10:20 PM > Hm. That's not good. Not delivered Sep 14 2:37 AM > Our position has been compromised. > I don’t know if she has completely cut the signal or if she can view our messages, any information could be at the risk of getting leaked. Much is uncertain. But safe to say is that we have to move. > Silver, even if you can't read this right now I'll keep you updated once I know more about our current situation. Stay safe out there, we'll meet up again soon. Not delivered Sep 14 7:58 PM > Silver, we have found a new location. I can’t yet disclose it out of safety. > There are a few injured but so far our group is stabled. I hope the same can be said for you. Not delivered Sep 15 2:16 PM > Vector is attempting to hack into the old radio tower to see if we can get a new signal started. Here's to hoping. > Silver, are you there? Not delivered Sep 15 3:24 PM > Nothing… > If we can find Tails then maybe we have a better chance to get around Sage's hold of the signals. Not delivered Sep 20 9:01 PM > We may have to move again soon. It's getting harder and harder to keep down the fort. I'll try to buy us some more time but I can't promise it will be for long. > Silver, I hope you are doing okay out there. > Please, get back safely. Not delivered

Silver:

Sep 21 5:28 AM i promise Delivered

The icons I made for the chat:

#silver the hedgehog #espio the chameleon #team chaotix #silverzine #kaleidoscopic absolution #sth silver #sth espio

176 notes · View notes

incogrio · 8 months ago

Text

h.kai - send off part two ～*° °。｡

pairing: huening kai x fem bodied reader

genre: fluff, angst, SMUT!!

synopsis: a month has gone by since your dreamy encounter with huening kai. and he hasn’t said a word to you.

warnings: sad in the beginning, general smut warnings, eating out, slightly public smut, sub! kai, dom!ish reader, inaccurate depictions of huening kai’s head game

w/c: 2.5k+

a/n: ONE person asked for a part two (yk who u are) and i once again, was possessed by the ningdungie inside me. and kai inside me. so uhhh yeah enjoy pookies.

part one

COMMENTS AND FEEDBACK HEAVILY APPRECIATED!

it had been days since your dreamy encounter with huening kai had burnt itself into your skull. you found yourself giggling when imagining his smile, unable to fall asleep as you awaited his text. but it never came.

on the morning after your meeting with him, you sent him a friendly: “hi!”. you hadn’t expected a response immediately, he is a busy idol after all. but after three days, you had started to grow worried. what if he got in trouble with his staff? did he realize his mistake in trusting you and change his number?

you decided to send another text: “i hope you’re eating and resting well!” radio silence. nothing but your anxiety plaguing your mind. you had fallen for him so quickly, and now every time you’d seek comfort, you’d find yourself thinking about what could have been. your comfort is now your plague, and you sob into your pillow.

a month has gone by. by this point, you’ve accepted his disappearance. you send him messages everyday; treating his number like your personal diary.

“i had ramen today, but the noodles were kind of hard.” [delivered: 12:34 PM]

“i haven’t been able to sleep recently, thinking of you too much.” [delivered: 4:37 AM]

“today a girl complimented my outfit! i was so happy i could barely even say thank you haha!!” [delivered: 6:13 PM]

“i wonder why you gave me this number. was it a prank?” [read: 2:48 AM]

you thought you were hallucinating. you must’ve stayed on that chat for hours, refreshing and refreshing. now you were the one giving him silence.

it made hyuka’s stomach churn. he had been fighting with his members and the staff for the past month, desperately trying to convince them that he was not threatened, that he did not need to change his number, and that he did see a relationship with you. every night, he’d sob as he read your messages. he knew he couldn’t begin a relationship if he would have to break it off, but this hurt more. your constant wondering of his affections, your desperate attempts to get him to say something, anything. it made him want to throw up. he could only imagine the look on your face as he delivered you your thoughts, once more.

but today, today he did it. today they agreed to let him at the very least commune with you online. huening had sprinted to the nearest bathroom, locking himself in and pressing his back to the door, sinking till his butt softly touching the cold tiles under him. he opened your chat, frowning at your most recent text.

“i wonder why you gave me this number. was it a prank?” [delivered: 12:56 AM]

his hands shook as he tapped your contact, turning on read receipts for the first time. he didn’t know when you had seen the change, but he knew that you suddenly gave him a taste of his own medicine. he didn’t know what to say. what to do. his thumbs shook as he typed out a message, before deleting it.

“oh.” [read: 3:01 AM]

he jumps, eyes widening. he quickly types without thinking.

“i promise i can explain. let me meet with you. please.” he responds, to which you see it immediately. on your end, you’re on borderline tears. for a month, all you had wanted to see was his response. his notification. and now that you have it, you didn’t even know what to do with it.

“okay. meet me at the bench where we first exchanged numbers.” [read: 3:02 AM]

“okay! thank you. i’m on my way now!!(*^^*)♡” you rolled your eyes at his kaomoji with a slight smile on your face. you got up slowly, before tugging on the quickest outfit and bursting through your door and down to the lobby of your apartment building.

you deserved an explanation, but you would fold the moment you saw his bright blue hair. you tried your best to discipline yourself as you walked through the slightly humid streets, slowly making your way to the now empty concert venue.

huening types out his speech as he walks, slowly nearing where he had met you. he takes a deep breath as he turns the corner, seeing you sitting on a bench whilst looking around expectantly.

he sneaks up behind you and taps you on the shoulder once more. “hi,” he says, his voice shaking out of nerves.

you turn around, getting a strange sense of deja vu. do not fold, you tell yourself. “hey. so…”

hyuka clears his throat, reaching into his pocket and shakily opening his phone. he reads off the note he wrote, “i-i know you are angry with me. and you have every right to be, but i need to at least explain to you-“

“kai, what are you doing?” he looks up.

“wh- i’m… i wrote it in advance, so i wouldn’t forget anything… i’m.. is that rude?” he asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck softly.

you sigh. you reach for his phone and place it back into his pocket, before taking his hand and leading him to sit next to you.

“i agreed to hear you out, kai, not your notes app. please, you do not need to be perfect around me.” you mutter reassuringly, yet sternly.

he feels himself tearing up, his lip wobbling softly. he looks at you as the wind blows your hair softly and the street light illuminates your skin. an angel, he thinks to himself. my angel.

“oh- okay! s-so, i was not ignoring you. i was reading your messages! it’s just that i was sort of fighting with everyone at hybe to convince them that you’re NOT a saesang- not- not that you seem like one it’s just that when an idol gives out their number they tend to think that- that they had to give it away and that was NOT the case and- and so i basically has to convince them to not change my number and it was so fucking hard and i JUST-“

you smile to yourself softly, “kai. kai! take a breath. i’m not going anywhere.” you take a deep breath, and he follows.

“and… and i just got them to agree that you are worth it and…” he looks down at his hands, playing with them. “and i didn’t want to start a relationship with you until i was sure it would work out.” he mutters, his voice becoming warbling more and more by the second. “i’m so sorry-“ he can barely get out, before he breaks into sobs. you immediately hug him, taking his head and tucking it into your neck, cradling him.

“oh hyuks…” you mutter, softly kissing his head. “you hurt me a lot,” you explain, and he whines softly into your neck, “but… i understand. i do. you don’t need to worry. cry if you need to, but not because i’m leaving.” you whisper as passersby begin to look over. a six foot tall broad man being cradled in the arms of someone significantly smaller than him is not a usual sight.

after a few seconds, he softly calms into a sniffle. “i don’t deserve you.” he mutters, playing with the hem of your shirt and staying at his position of being wrapped around you.

you hum, “you don’t know how many people disagree with you.”

he untucks his head from your neck before slowly lifting a hand to your cheek. his eyes flick between your eyes to your lips, a silent question.

you aren’t even through your first nod before he launches forward, kissing you like he needed oxygen from your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, moaning softly as he bites your lip. he smiles against your mouth in satisfaction, before tilting his head to kiss you deeper. both of you begin to run out of breath, and neither of you find it in you to care. his lips are salty, drenched in his tears. you are addicted to their taste. he whines softly, pushing you back in a desperate attempt to get closer to you. you slowly lean back, before your head softly hits the arm rest of the bench.

you pull away, despite hyuka’s attempt to follow you. you breathe heavily in each others faces, and kai grins at you.

“i have waited so…” he leans down and presses kisses to your neck and jaw, “so long..” he says lowly. you bite your lip, attempting to hold back a moan as he sucks a hickey onto your neck.

“oh my- kai!” you push against his broad shoulders. “we’re in public!”

he pulls away, pulling you up with him. “we… we could be in private. if you want…” he says, eyes drifting to the street that leads to the hotel he’s staying at, before snapping back to you. it’s as though he cannot bare to not have you in his sight.

“won’t people see us?” you ask, slightly confused as to how he was able to get here, apologize and make out with you all without being recognized. he bites his lip in thought, before his eyes light up.

“do you care where we go?” he asks, eyebrows crinkling up in question.

“…i mean… i guess not…” you state, the syllables turning up at the end in slight confusion.

the last place you expected him to lead you was his tour bus. you stare at him incredulously as he unlocks the door, leading you in hand in hand. you marvel at the expensive equipment.

“kai we are not fucking in your tour bus! what if we don’t clean up well and one of your members notices? we should just go home separately and sext or something-“

he cups your cheeks. “i will make sure everything is fine. there’s a bathroom with enough supplies to clean, i have my own bunk bed. you don’t have to worry baby.” he responds reassuringly. “but, if you don’t want to then that’s fine. we could get some froyo instead? does that sound good?” he says smiling, before walking towards the tour bus door.

god, respectful men are so hot.

you tug his hand, pulling him back. “please,” you mumble, looking away like a child.

he smirks. “please what?” he asks smugly, you know he knows what, and he knows he knows what. he just wanted to hear you say it.

“please… please fuck me kai… went a whole month without you, didn’t talk to or even look at anyone else… only…” he begins kissing your neck, “only you kai… please, i’ve been so good for you..” you moan out.

his fingertips squeeze your waist tightly, pushing you back until you hit a small kitchen counter. he reaches up and softly wraps his hand around your throat, eyebrows raising as he asks for your consent. you respond by placing your hand over his and pushing his hand tighter around your neck. he groans before you launch forward, first kissing his lips down to his neck.

“no,” he says sternly, pulling you back by the neck. “no kissing anywhere but my lips. you cannot leave a mark.” he says seriously. god, him being an idol really sucked sometimes.

you pout at him, looking at him through your eyelashes, “nowhere… else..?” you ask, eyes showing disappointment as he tells you that you can’t mark him up and show everyone he was yours.

he smiles at you reassuringly, cupping your cheek and running his thumb across your cheekbone. “i am still yours, marked or not,” he mutters, slowly leaning closer and brushing his lips against yours by tilting his head up momentarily, silently asking if you felt better. you responded by leaning forward, kissing him softly, making sure he felt all the love you had been longing to give him for a month.

he groans against your mouth, fingers digging into your waist as he grows needer. “fuck… need,,” he mumbles, pressing kisses down your neck, “need to taste you, baby. please,” he makes his way down your sternum, “i’ve been so good, haven’t i… baby..?” he looks up from his crouched spot in between your breasts through his eyelids, watching you watch him. you nod, reaching down and moving his hair out his eyes.

he slowly sinks to his knees, licking his lips as he pressed kisses to your plush belly.

a small , ‘mmm’, escaped him as he felt your stomach sink momentarily at his kiss before plushing up once more.

“kai…” you sigh out, before reaching your hand into his hair and tugging him to look up at you, “you need to hurry up.” the stern tone in your voice had caught him off guard, but made his pants ever tighter around his growing bulge.

his bit his lip, looking down at the waist band of your skirt with hungry eyes. he nods, humming a approving tune and muttering out ‘sorry baby.’ over and over. he finally reaches up to your skirt and tugs it down harshly, the cold hair making your legs prickle up with goosebumps.

he almost drools at the sight of your underwear. kai cannot contain himself any longer, launching himself forward to mouth at your clothed clit. he moans to himself as you tighten your grip on his blue hair, muttering soft praises into the otherwise silent tour bus.

it wasn’t long before he reached up, pulling your panties for the side with one hand and shoving your leg over his shoulder with the other. you brace yourself, but nothing could have prepared you for his lips immediately wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly at your swollen nub. you have lost all sense of dignity and pride, choosing to replace it with kai. kai. kai. kai. you moan out, slightly placing your weight against the counter, fighting the leg on his shoulder to wrap around his head. tugging him ever closer.

“f..fuck kai! so good..” you moan, breathing heavily as he runs his tongue up and down your folds, alternating between pistoning his organ into your hole and swirling and sucking at your clit.

he lets out moans every few moments, sending your hips bucking into his face, “don’t you dare stop, hyu..hyuka..”

he shakes his head against your pussy, fervently telling you that no, he will not stop. not until you’re shaking and his entire face is drenched in your fluids.

and even then, even when you were shaking, desperately trying to get him away from your pulsating pussy, he kept going.

“fuck!! kai! please, i came… please stop!” you borderline shout, the overstimulation driving you crazy as you almost climb onto the counter to get away from his skillful tongue.

finally, a pussy drunk kai pulls away. he breathes heavily, your juices covering from his chin to the bridge of his nose, the window behind you making him glisten.

“sorry,” he muttered half heartedly with his nerdy little voice. you chose to completely lay down on the counter, regaining your sense of reality.

you chuckle, “that was.. kind of crazy.”

“good crazy?” he asked, standing up and rubbing your thighs comfortably.

“mhm,” you mutter, sitting up and reaching your hand to palm his bulge. kai immediately turns bright red, looking at the floor rather than you.

it was wet. drenched, actually. he had already cum. not just once, but twice whilst feeding on you.

he had half expected you to laugh at him, call him a bitchless loser and shame him. instead you kissed him, “such a good boy to cum while pleasing me..”

oh. oh you had unlocked a beast. he growls against your lips, picking you up and shoving you onto one of the small bunk beds in the bus.

“i’ll show you what a good boy i can be.”

epilogue:

kai had at least had the decency to bring you to his hotel room after the staff and members had all gone to sleep. you deserved a good nights sleep after all.

he had helped you limp into the bathroom, where you now sat on the toilet, back leaned against the wall.

he was in between your legs once more, but with a softer intention this time. he softly wiped your folds free of any residue, shushing you everytime you whined at the overstimulation.

“better?” he asked, getting up and wetting his toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste onto its bristles and holding you by your chin. he softly tugged at your chin, encouraging you to open your mouth. he smiled softly when you tiredly obeyed, and began cleaning your mouth.

you stared at him with wide, fucked out eyes. he would glance at you every few moments, before going back to focusing on your teeth. a small, flustered smile lingered on his mouth, and pink dusted his cheeks everytime.

after you were clean, you watched him brush his own teeth with the same toothbrush. you didn’t have it in you to complain.

it wasn’t long before he had you change into his clothes, to which his heart soared after seeing you dawning his shark hoodie, boxers and basketball shorts. he softly tucked you next to him into the hotel bed that smelled so comfortably of him, smiling to himself as you tucked your head into his neck. he squeezed you impossibly closer.

god he loved- wait… was he falling in love with you?

please dm or comment to be added to the taglist!

#incogrio:kai #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #tomorrow x together #txt #txt fanfic #txt fluff #txt scenarios #txt x gn reader #txt x reader #huening kai fluff #hueningkai #huening kai smau #huening kai x reader #huening kai smut

181 notes · View notes

jtl-fics · 2 years ago

Text

Masterpost for Fluent Freshman AU

Here is where you can find every installment of the Fluent Freshman AU since it’s getting a lot longer than I intended considering it was mostly a one off goof post that got some legs in my brain.

Fluent Freshman Final Draft:

Ao3 Link

Fluent Freshman Extras Masterpost:

HERE

Below is the various parts of the rough draft for the final draft that is currently being posted on Ao3. Enjoy it memes and all :)

Part 01 - “Bunny” “Darling”

Part 02 - “Never have I ever...”

Part 03 - “Hey wanna learn how to use a knife?”

Part 04 - “Oh, I kept some Pepto behind the counter for you.”

Part 05 - “We’re taking a drive.”

Part 06 - “Are we still going on that drive?”

Part 07 - “Sure”

Part 08 - “Those pies look good.”

Part 09 - “We have plans for that whipped cream tonight”

Part 10 - “You can just shove them off.”

Part 11 - “It won’t happen again.”

Part 12 - “You were shopping??”

Part 13 - “That sounds like what someone who wants to lick the spoon would say.”

Part 14 - “Pull out the brownies and go back to sleep Smith.”

Part 15 - “Alright, let’s go to Eden’s!”

Part 16 - “Surprise Me.”

Part 17 - “Acceptable. You know the rules.” Part 18 - “Just enjoy your drink Smith” Part 19 - “What’s your name by the way? Sorry I missed it.“ Part 20 - “I am Miss Congeniality!” Part 21 - “Well, that’s about what I expected.“ Part 22 - “I don’t like that you hid it from me.” Part 23 - “Classified” Part 24 - “Nicky, just calm down!” Part 25 - “Amateurs” Part 26 - “How’s he doing?” Part 27 - “Well then translate for us.” Part 28 - “Captain Neil said you wanted to talk to me.” Part 29 - “He still calls you Captain Neil.” Part 30 - “I don’t even know if they have dental.” Part 31 - “Just me?” Part 32 - “Are you lost?” Part 33 - “Does Kevin Know?”

Part 34 - “What an asshole.”

Part 35 - “You said this was phase one?!”

Part 36 - “Where. Is. My. Car?”

Part 37 - “You don’t...care?”

Part 38 - “Nice Catch”

Part 39 - “We’ll figure something out”

Part 40 - “You look better in orange anyways.”

Part 41 - “No, thank you.”

Part 42 - “Let’s get out of here.”

Part 43 - “I don’t even need this degree.”

Part 44 - “I bet it is.”

Part 45 - “I promise to not make fun of you."

Offline Doc: HERE

#Fluent Freshman AU #Masterpost #AFTG #AFTG AU

830 notes · View notes

jiminjamms · 1 year ago

Text

sex therapy :: 27. missed me?

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. therapist! toji. a very broken marriage (cont.). heavy angst but i am still not gege. infidelity/adultery. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.0k

notes: i hope everyone has been swell! sending hugs to every corner of the world, and i hope my writing can be your little break from reality. i have also added more chapters to the fic since i cannot wrap up the story in the next few chapters, ha. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

12:33 PM Toji called 12:33 PM He told me that my daughter collapsed in front of the twins? 12:34 PM And you got into a fight with her? 12:34 PM How did that happen? 12:34 PM Are you with her right now? 12:37 PM Answer me please, I need to make sure she’s fine (Missed Call) 12:38 PM Can you phone me back asap? Thx 12:38 PM I’m still in the office right now, wrapped up the weekly meeting with the operating committee 01:01 PM Hello? 01:01 PM Hey, are you there? (Missed Call) 01:12 PM Toji called again, he gave me a rundown, and I have to say… 01:12 PM I’m very, very disappointed in you

Perhaps the better word would be terrified, but Naoya was truly and genuinely astounded.

How the fuck did this happen?

Naoya could feel his breathing grow shallow and his body turn cold as he read through each message from his Chief Operating Officer once, twice, three times. For a while, he stared at his chat history, his shaking thumb hovering over the screen while his mind went blank.

What started as an argument between just you and him now had your father involved. Not only your father, though—but also Mai, Maki, and now Toji?! How bothersome. Of course, you had to drag everyone into this! The world always had to revolve around you.

Naoya could not think straight as his chauffeur sped him back to the office from Mari’s apartment later that day. Even when he returned to his CEO suite, he could hardly focus on his conversations with department heads or strategy discussions with the Board when Daisuke L/N’s messages haunted him like an omnipresent and malevolent spirit.

‘I’m very, very disappointed in you.’

Goddamnit!

Naoya did not miss how your father was absent from the afternoon’s meetings either (although he was not stupid enough to point that out aloud at work when Naoya himself was involved in why), nor did he miss his own father’s narrowed gaze which seemingly lingered on him longer than usual.

Oh goodness, did he know, too?

No, he couldn’t have. Otherwise, Naobito Zenin would have pulled him to the side by now and given him a long and stern lecture.

Yet, when the early evening arrived, Naoya ultimately decided he must talk to you directly.

Not because he actually cared about your well-being. (Ha, as if.) But because he needed to quash the possibility that the rest of his family, particularly his Board Chairman father, could get a whiff of his quarrel with you before all hell broke loose.

Moments like these warranted him to push aside his dignity before things could worsen.

His greatest fear would be for this recent argument to become a domino effect, as the downfall in this marriage would certainly place him in hot water.

With that, the current Zenin CEO then tapped his phone for your contact.

He needed to check up on you but ended up in voicemail.

So, he dialed once more.

Voicemail.

Again.

Why were you not picking up his calls?

You always found a way to irk him with how ungrateful you could be. Sure, there was no secret that you hated him. He would admit he was rude, belittling, and patronizing, treating you like a trophy to tote around, a doll to splay at his will, and a woman who needed to learn her place. He knew this and you knew this, because he exclusively tolerated this marriage as a means to accelerate his life.

Despite everything, he made sure his wife was well-fed and looked after, only for you to throw a tantrum and now get his extended family involved? Ludicrous. Why not focus on the good things about him? Could you not see how he had attempted to reach you at least thirty times throughout the day? (His ultimate reason admittedly was selfish, but that’s not the point.)

Anywho, since when did you think that ignoring him was acceptable?

In a frustrated fit, Naoya tossed his phone into his desk’s paper heap and huffed.

To set things straight, he had made many sacrifices in his life to get to his seat today, like how—back in the day—he had to watch TV anchors praise his older cousin while sipping champagne in the Maldives with…whatever girlfriend he had been with at the time. Life had been hard, but he at last had everything he should’ve been entitled to since birth. This position, this family, and this company belonged to him, regardless of what stupid fucking traditions dictated.

Unsurprisingly, when Naoya took the helm, everyone scrutinized him. Sure, he might have lacked in a few (or, more accurately, a lot of…) regards since he hadn’t been built into the position the way Toji Zenin had been, but having you as his wife made him look good in family conversations and public discourse.

He just needed a little more time to get people to trust him. Then, once all the pieces clicked into place, he resolved to toss this marriage to the side.

That ‘time,’ he hoped, would be soon.

For now, he just needed to keep you for as long as he sought fit.

Buzz.

Well, speak of the devil.

You must finally be returning his call.

The sky had gone dark in the windows behind him now, but Naoya practically leaped from his seat, scrambling and shoving papers aside to find his phone buried beneath several printed reports. He hated how his hands quivered as he held the device, not that he could control himself at this point, and he snapped the moment he swiped at his screen.

“Where the hell are you?” Naoya hissed, clipped and impatient.

He did not get an immediate response, which infuriated him even more since he taught you to acknowledge him on the phone.

But then, he learned why.

Because instead, Naoya heard a low and harrowing chuckle.

“I guess you missed me, kid.”

The end to a marriage, for obvious reasons, would never be as glamorous as the start to one.

Many would dream for years about a wedding, but far fewer would think the same about a separation.

‘I'm going to file for a divorce.’

Admittedly, you were nervous when you announced the decision aloud in a crowded room for many eyes to see and ears to hear.

After all, even if you recognized the need for a change in your matrimony, you feared the consequences. You didn't want to cause your families to grow apart or your fathers to resent you. In addition, Naoya had been such a dominating fixture in your life these past few months, and he had led you to believe your days without him would be meaningless.

However, no longer could you set aside your emotions for his sake, nor would you expend extensive effort to salvage your marriage for other’s desires. Your sole purpose henceforth was to live a satisfied life without sacrificing more than what you already have for a husband who hardly look your way.

As a result, when you acknowledged divorce as the best possible solution to your demise, you were grateful for the emotional support and relieved faces from your worried father, the younger teenagers, and your trusted therapists.

Especially Toji.

“Come with me,” the very man ordered once you stepped into his apartment’s corridor with him.

Everyone else had been brought down to the apartment’s lower level after the earlier discussion in the master bedroom, with Megumi forced to take on the role as host in his father’s absence. The younger Fushiguro might be aloof and sometimes awkward, but word had gotten around that he was a good chef with his aunts nagging at him to prepare dinner.

“C’mon, don’t you want to show us what recipes you have learned on TikTok?”

“...No, not really. Can we just order KFC?”

The other conversation that drifted upward was between your father and the other three therapists, which made sense given that they all used to be colleagues back when Toji had been the CEO.

There was laughter, chatter, and the entire brouhaha brought ease to your nervous heart.

“Ladies first,” Toji said at some point after you had trailed behind him. He had taken you several meters ahead, opening the door to invite you inside. “This is my home office.”

You did not yet see the point in him doing a House Tour 2.0, but you walked in upon his gesture anyway. The hardwood floor beneath you felt warm, your body heating up slightly despite the coolness in the air.

Toji kept his office space as tidy as the rest of his abode. He had a white leather couch situated by the doorway and a workspace configuration to the side with desk lamps, an expensive chair, and a dual monitor setup.

Above his screens, Toji probably had fifteen accolades in cherry wood frames, each to showcase his achievements as countless magazines named him the best leader, the top executive, and the most promising innovator.

What caught your attention, however, was the wall beside his workstation.

There was a corkboard.

At first glance, the tacked-on magazine cutouts and photograph snippings seemed like a messy litter on the brown surface, but thin red strings—which made this look like a detective movie prop—connected one piece to another and suggested an order to the chaos.

“What is this?” you asked, a question not directed to anyone in particular as you neared the corkboard without waiting for Toji’s permission.

Upon closer distance, the vague letterings and images became clear.

The newspaper cover story fastened at the very center read in big bold print: “Zenin Corporation Announces New CEO.”

As the realization dawned that this was what Toji meant to show you, the man’s measured footsteps came up from behind you. He stopped at your side, watching how you inspected each element on the corkboard as though his room was your laboratory and he was your professor.

“The World Economic Forum estimates that more than 5% of global GDP is lost to corruption around the world each year,” he began, crossing his thick arms firmly over his chest. “Many articles you see here had been published online only to be taken down not even a few hours later. I suspect that Naoya this year alone has spent hundreds of thousands, if not millions, bribing the Japanese media to curate the public image he needs.” He then pointed around. “Look for yourself.”

You would have called Toji out for being a total creep if the objective of this collection had not been obvious. With scarlet threads weaving together to reveal an elaborate web of deceit, Toji had been curating an exposé.

There was one photo from your wedding day. Standing at the altar with Naoya, you looked so happy and blissful back then, the vibrant bouquet in your hands a colorful contrast against the pristine white of your Vera Wang wedding gown, your face radiant with a smile oblivious to the heartache that would come.

This publication, you have seen before.

What you did not recognize, however, were the articles dated from nearly a year ago, well before your wedding day, with even more printed five months ago, two months ago, one week ago…

…and reading the titles made you feel sick.

Japanese Hotshot Shares Intimate Kisses with Rumored Girlfriend Photos Reveal Recently Married Executive’s Secret Affair? Exclusive: Zenin Corporation CEO Spotted in Mexico with Alleged Lover

The accompanying pictures had the same two subjects in plain clothes and baseball caps, showing off little skin to reveal their identities to prying busybodies. Yet, upon an immediate glance, you recognized Naoya Zenin as the taller figure and assumed his very precious ladyfriend must be the other.

Photographers had snapped the two embracing each other in a cab’s backseat, sharing a secret kiss after a luxury mall date, and holding hands while stepping into a private plane.

All to say, you were revolted.

The more you mulled on these printouts, the more you could feel visceral disgust build in your chest.

To think you once contemplated saving a marriage with a man like that. Whatever his plan was for him and this woman, did he intend to make you a side character to their romance until the day you would die?

Your gaze darted around, and the photo with the most unobstructed view of their faces placed you on pause.

All of a sudden, a hard lump formed in your throat because, Holy shit, she’s…stunning.

Seeing the woman who your husband had had his sights on immediately unlocked a whole new level of insecurities within you.

No wonder Naoya could not bring himself to be married to you when he had her.

The woman was exquisite, to say the least. Despite the picture’s poor quality, you noticed her bright elegant face, plump pink lips, and long full lashes—precisely the characteristics that would turn heads in a crowded room. In fact, you secretly wished that you possessed her overflowing pulchritude as well.

If she was an angel from your point of view, she must also be in Naoya’s eyes all the more.

You gingerly drew a circle around her with a finger.

“Is she his mistress?”

Why did you even ask that? You already knew the answer. But, you wanted to confirm the facts rather than satisfy your curiosity.

Meanwhile, Toji ran his index finger very slowly over his lower lip.

He answered a while later.

“Yes.” As you had expected. Then, he added, “But she’s also my ex-wife.”

What—

Your jaw dropped to the trenches.

If you thought tonight had been filled with enough revelations, this one really sealed the deal.

His…ex-wife?!

Unlike the man before you, hiding your deepest emotions had never been your forte. Instead, you had gone stiff as your mind reeled in shock.

“She’s…Tsumiki’s mom,” you said quietly at the realization.

Yes, you have heard a lot about her. However, to make the connection between the lady in the picture and the woman who owned currently Naoya’s (and previously Toji’s) devotion stirred awake a thousand emotions.

Anger. Bitterness. Resentment.

Megumi had told you plenty about her before.

‘Treated me like a bag of shit, spent all my dad’s money on her shopping sprees every weekend, and even neglected her own daughter—my stepsister.’

Her pretty face could only go so far in disguising her dark heart.

With this understanding, you finally grasped Toji’s bitterness when he first met you. How fickle fate had been to him. Comical, even! For his younger cousin to take his succession rights to the clan, his executive position in the company, and—to top everything off—his wife from his family. Only for you (of all eight billion people in the world) to show up at Toji Fushiguro’s office asking for sex therapy?

Now, you comprehended why Toji and Naoya despised each other.

In addition, you understood why Toji and his colleagues had been suspicious of you. Trust takes time to build yet a moment to shatter, and all of them have had this trust broken before. By Naoya, yes.

But also, by her.

“What’s her name?” you had to ask, ignoring the searing ache in your heart.

Your therapist, on the other hand, tried to play off his vexation by shoving his hands into his front pockets.

“Mari,” and also, “She still uses my last name.”

Wow.

The audacity that some people in the world have.

“Here let me help.”

“Hm?”

At first, you did not quite get what Toji was referring to until he started tearing the magazine photos and newspaper stories.

Wordlessly, you gawked at him, both in confusion and astonishment.

“Why—”

Before you could complete the thought, Toji had placed everything into a neat stack and thrust the pile into your hands. “There,” he said with finality. “If you are to file for a divorce, take these to Naoya. See what the bastard has to say. Staying with him any longer would be a fatal flaw.”

Toji had never seen a single interaction between you and his cousin in person, yet he could confidently say your husband was the hamartia in your life. Perhaps the signs had always been obvious. Or perhaps, his recent experience in a toxic marriage allowed Toji to notice the red flags in yours from miles away.

“If you give him too much time, he’ll come up with his offenses,” he went on. “We don’t need to outfight him, though. We simply need to outthink him.”

Something about Toji’s emerald eyes gleamed in a way you had not seen before.

It was a different side to him, one where he planned and strategized, a flickering core of the businessman he used to be.

“Hi.”

You and Toji froze at the sound.

Megumi’s voice had startled you two as the boy peered in from the hallway, waving a phone in his hand—your phone. “Sorry to interrupt but, uh, he called again.”

Interestingly enough, Megumi did not need to explicitly mention a name for you all to know who he referred to. As your screen flickered on, you noticed the numerous missed calls and text messages that had flooded your notifications, all from one particular culprit, no doubt.

Instead of embarrassment, your body surged with aggravation at how your husband suddenly seemed desperate to know your whereabouts.

So now he cared, huh?

Before you could retrace your steps towards the door, however, Toji had already done so. He retrieved the device from his son’s hands and started dialing a number from your phone.

You tried to stop him. “Hey, what are you—”

But Toji dismissed you, pressing your phone to his ear as the call began to ring, and his lips curled into a wicked grin when the other line must have picked up.

“I guess you missed me, kid.”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I am excited to show the interaction between Toji and Naoya—I have been thinking about their conversation for a long time! This chapter is less of a whirlwind and more of a setup for the rest to come. Thank you for your support!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

317 notes · View notes

simply-whump · 5 months ago

Text

Strange Tales of Jiang Cheng (江城诡事) - Whump List

Whumpee : Qin Huo Le played by Xia Zhi Guang and Song He played by Caesar Wu

Synopsis : In the early years of the Republic of China, the situation in Jiangzhou in the southwest region was chaotic, which led to frequent spies. Qin Huo Le, who returned from studying abroad, met detective captain Song He and with the help of the quirky female forensic doctor Fan Xiao Fan, the three of them worked together to solve 8 bizarre murder cases and bring justice to the world. (MDL)

Genres : Thriller, Mystery, Investigation, Bromance

Warning! Possible spoilers below!

Qin Huo Le

Ep 1 : None

Ep 2 : (01:35) Arm twisted — (11:35) Throwing up

Ep 3-4 : None

Ep 5 : (12:5) Choked

Ep 6 : (08:55) Crying

Ep 7 : (11:30) Am twisted — (11:55) In handcuffs

Ep 8 : (06:10) Knife at his neck, captured, hands and feet tied, gagged (Gif Set)

Ep 9 : (0:50) Still tied up —(04:45) Knife at his throat — (06:23) Found, untied, taken hostage

Ep 10-23 : None

Ep 24 : (03:05) Arm twisted

Ep 25 : None

Ep 26 : (05:05) Thrown to the ground, attacked, knife at his throat

Ep 27-35 : None

Ep 36 : Missing, suspect in a case

Ep 37 : None

Ep 38 : (00:45) Tied up with rope the whole episode

Ep 39 : (09:30) Still tied up, black hood on his head, gagged, saved — (13:40) Restrained

Ep 40 : (05:25) Wakes up from a nightmare

Ep 41 : None

Ep 42 : (06:45) Fighting, hit — (09:10) Shot at, more fighting, gun pointed at his head — (12:50) Hit several times, choked, punched, Song He comes to the rescue

Ep 43 : (08:25) Handcuffed (wants to infiltrate a prison)

Ep 44 : (03:00) Handcuffed, about to infiltrate a prison (very dangerous), hugged by his friends — (10:25) Manhandled, restrained, force fed something disgusting, coughing

Ep 45 : (01:00) Glass cup smashed on his head, knocked out — (07:10) Wakes up in a cell, holding his stomach, in pain — (12:35) Stomach hurting, sweating

Ep 46 : None

Ep 47 : (02:50) Fighting, hit

Ep 48 : (04:05) Walking unsteadily, holding his stomach, passes out, wakes up in bed, concern for him — (09:10) Crying, vision blurry passes out — (11:30) Wakes up tied up

Ep 49-50 : None

Ep 51 : (01:00) Teary-eyed, fighting — (10:20) Teary-eyed

Ep 52 : (00:50) Teary-eyed, crying — (10:20) Crying

Song He

Ep 1-2 : None

Ep 3 : (10:35) Fighting, choked, in an explosion, found collapsed on the floor, concern for him, helped up, stumbling — (11:30) Wound treated, in pain, alcohol dumped on his wound, screaming in pain (semi-comedic)

Ep 4-12 : None

Ep 13 : (07:30) Feeling unwell, collapses unconscious, concern for him, surrounded by some poison miasma — (09:15) Wakes up, slightly disoriented

Ep 14-27 : None

Ep 30 : (08:55) Surrounded by smoke, coughing, collapses, passes out, concern for him, woken up

Ep 31-38 : None

Ep 39 : (01:50) Fighting, hit

Ep 40 : (02:00) Surrounded by enemies — (03:45) Just had a tough fight, injured, tired, bleeding, saved — (09:20) Grabbed on his injury, wincing in pain

Ep 41-46 : None

Ep 47 : (11:30) Drugged, stumbling, vision blurry, cut with a knife multiple times, hit, fighting, pinned to the ground, stabbed in the chest, jumps through a window, shot, still manages to escape (Gif Set)

Ep 48 : (03:35) Bleeding, barely conscious, concern for him — (09:45) Carried unconscious, concern for him — (12:00) Unconscious in bed, wakes up, pale and feverish, in pain, concern for him

Ep 49 : (00:50) In bed, weak

Ep 50 : None

Ep 51 : (01:25) Slight concern for him, fighting — (06:25) Shot, collapses, bleeding, concern for him

Ep 52 : None

>> More Whump Lists

#strange tales of jiang cheng #whump list #whump #asian whump #cdrama #chinese drama #xia zhiguang #caesar wu

108 notes · View notes

clockwayswrites · 2 years ago

Text

This is why Moku and I are dangerous to each other:

clockways — Today at 2:01 AM

OKAY Danny/Tim where Danny is either ghost king or working for Clockwork or playing Reaper or something showing up to talk to Tim like "MY DUDE, you have got to stop killing so many people, even if it's in the name of good, esp when they're surrounded by rancid ectoplasm"

And this is now the Bats learn about Tim's LOA kill count

Mokulule — Today at 2:12 AM

Heheheh oh yesss

Does Danny show up in the middle of like a supposedly secure location in the middle of a mission?

Like “dude please, I do not need the assassin influx, you have any idea of the trouble you caused killing so many at once?”

Mokulule — Today at 2:19 AM

I’m kinda imagining these new ghosts still following Ra’s Al Ghul fanatically unless Danny can somehow get them rehabilitated and imagine if they found their way to the living world?! Do you want that madman to have a ghost army?

clockways — Today at 2:19 AM

I think a mission or right in the middle of the cave, yeah

and totally, like the pit waters have a Not Good effect on the ghosts so they're even more off than normal I think

Mokulule — Today at 2:22 AM

Okay but I am liking the implication here that Tim has been having this ongoing crusade against Ra’s in the background of everything where he keeps blowing up LOA bases and somehow managing to keep it secret

Here B thought Ra’s was his nemesis, turns out attention had shifted to Tim years ago

clockways — Today at 2:25 AM

Yes, Tim is 100% the Detective now and Ra's keeps being a creepy obsessed mo-fo and Tim just keeps finding ways to blow shit up. if it started at 17 could say Tim is 20, 21 now so they've been at it three years or so

Mokulule — Today at 2:26 AM

And like Danny has had enough, there’s so many of them they have their own realm in the realms and are stirring up trouble trying to find ways back into the living world

clockways — Today at 2:27 AM

Yeeeees They're basically segregated into a specific area of the realms and are still causing shit

Mokulule — Today at 2:28 AM

Maybe they even have their own pseudo pit from gathering rancid ectoplasm and it’s messing up the ecosystem and they’re hurting the blobs that would otherwise be cleaning that shit up

And the pseudo pit is definitely not helping their mental stability

Just trash assassin baby ghosts

clockways — Today at 2:29 AM

LOL Blob ghost sucker fish! yes xD

Mokulule — Today at 2:29 AM

They need rehabilitation and a bath and like it’s really not helping that Tim keeps sending more

clockways — Today at 2:30 AM

Every time Danny starts to get a handle on it BAM more assassins and more bad juice

And then Danny has to ramp up the blob ghost breeding again

Mokulule — Today at 2:31 AM

Yeah and he can only handle a couple at a time and he also has to make sure they don’t go back once he’s gotten them out and it’s just a mess

clockways — Today at 2:31 AM

OKAY OKAY WAIT. Danny makes an appointment with Tim as Wayne CEO

Shows up in his human guise with Tim as just Tim which sets up all sorts of alarms

Mokulule — Today at 2:32 AM

Ahahahaha yesss this is like a corporate problem 😂

clockways — Today at 2:32 AM

How is this normal seeming dude associated with the LOA?? What does he know about Tim??? Who is he???

Dany is just :) Look at me, using the proper channels!

Mokulule — Today at 2:32 AM

Danny is trying to go about this the right way official like

🤝

clockways — Today at 2:32 AM

🤝

Mokulule — Today at 2:33 AM

😂 everyone is very suspicious of Danny Fenton

clockways — Today at 2:34 AM

It doesn't help that he has officially been missing in the living realm since he graduated high sch9ool

(someone ((lancer)) finally noticed and reported him)

Mokulule — Today at 2:34 AM

Oh yeah even more suspicious for potential LOA connection

The fact that it was an old teacher and not his parents reporting him missing despite having graduated high school is also concerning

clockways — Today at 2:37 AM

mmmmy hum just all these red flags and it's very frustrating for the whole batfam.

Mokulule — Today at 2:38 AM

And like the guy looks like Danny Fenton, but is he really? He’s somehow very careful about not leaving prints and DNA where he goes, they’ve not been able to get any surefire confirmation this is indeed Danny Fenton

clockways — Today at 2:38 AM

AND THEN there is a gala that Ra's also shows up to... as does Danny. Just... to keep an eye on things. (He's worried about ghost assassins.)

But Tim sees Danny out of the corner of his eye and !!!

(Danny just went intangible through the wall, he's totally not on the guest list)

Mokulule — Today at 2:40 AM

Oh yes, he’s dressed up well enough, he’s had to learn that as a king and fits in just fine

clockways — Today at 2:42 AM

Tim can't help but recognize that Danny is handsome.

Mokulule — Today at 2:43 AM

Tim thinking he’s got two enemies at the gala now - has Tim told the other bats about Danny or is he hiding that? Cause then Tim might think the others have Ra’s handled so he has to handle Danny- and yeah okay he is very handsome, now that he’s not busy internally freaking out over what he knows (which he was at the first meeting)

clockways — Today at 2:45 AM

Depends how much the Bats know about Ra's interest in Tim. If they're aware at all, he's told them I think since Danny know is a threat to them all. 🤔

But I do still see him handling Danny either way since Danny hasn't met the family- keep things separate until there is no doubt.

Mokulule — Today at 2:46 AM

Okay but Clock, has Danny in his attempt at going through proper channels and requesting a meeting completely forgotten to mention the word ghost since he thought that was implied when he said the dead assassins were a problem for him?

clockways — Today at 2:47 AM

100%

He is still a disaster at explaining things

And look Tim is damn cute, Danny was a little flustered.

Mokulule — Today at 2:48 AM

So when Tim asks him what he’s doing there at the gala and he tells him that he’s keeping an eye out for assassins - Tim maybe takes that as a threat - like Tim thinks they’re playing 5D mental chess here, but Danny is a disaster and is not even playing chess

clockways — Today at 2:49 AM

!! OH Added bonus, Danny's etiquette training is all be like Dorathea and Pandora and etc, so he has a rather unusual speach pattern in King Mode which makes him seem that maybe common english isn't his first language but if he is Danny Fenton that doesn't track....

Mokulule — Today at 2:50 AM

Oh yesss good

clockways — Today at 2:50 AM

They have to end up on the dance floor, of course.

Mokulule — Today at 2:50 AM

Of course

Obligatory

clockways — Today at 2:51 AM

Danny is just all :) I'm putting my training to use! This is going so well!

Tim >:| What is this man playing at...

Mokulule — Today at 2:51 AM

Yes XD

clockways — Today at 2:52 AM

Ra's takes an instant hatred to Danny because he is Taking Tim's Attention!

Mokulule — Today at 2:52 AM

Eventual reveal is going to be hilarious

clockways — Today at 2:52 AM

Which makes Tim think that Ra's and Danny are old enemies

Mokulule — Today at 2:52 AM

Oh yess hahaha Ra’s now trying to have Danny killed

Now Danny is having to deal with both living and dead assassins he is not amused, but if he gets them away from Ra’s in the living world that will help some problems down the line. Just every assassin Ra’s sends disappears and no bodies turn up

clockways — Today at 2:55 AM

It's driving both Tim and Ra's mad

Things maybe come to a head when some of the ghost assassins try to go after Tim and Phantom shows up?

Mokulule — Today at 2:57 AM

XD Does Tim realize this is Danny or does he now think there’s another player?

Are they aware of Phantom as a ghost hero?

clockways — Today at 2:59 AM

HUM so I kinda want to say Tim does put 2 + 2 together- at least at some point. Maybe just because Phantom's new outfit mirrors what his formal clothing had. Not like perfectly but there's a lot of parallels in color and things

Maybe not till he's safe and- if they know of Phantom- they're back somewhere secure

Tim just holding an ice pack to his head jolting up and pointing a finger at Phantom "You're Danny!!!"

Phantom: Uh, yeah??? Of course I am?

And then @mokulule got distracted by fic and I went to sleep cause it was 3am. But my can we go from 'random statement' to 60% of a fic outline in no time. (Not it.)

#how promptous #dp x dc #brain dead #dead tired #Tim Drake/Danny Fenton

549 notes · View notes

generalpalacefishgoop · 24 days ago

Text

trBBH and trPili make some theories about the Keeper of the Realm and the snails.

VOD iD: 2357106973

Timestamp: 01:37:35 - 01:50:07

BBH: The keepers of the realm, I'm pretty sure they can move through time and space.

Pili: How are you so sure about this?

BBH: It's the way they move. They look like they're teleporting, but they're not. What they're doing is they like stand in a location and then they move through space-time and then they arrive at another location, but they're not actually teleporting. They're actually moving. We just can't see them when they move which is devious.

Pili: So they're like moving as of right now. We only can see them when they decide to show up?

BBH: Bingo! In other words, they've got a whole other area they're occupying.

Pili: Oh my God, I literally said this today. I literally was questioning Caracol because you know, they the snail just like poof in and out. Where are they poofing to? They definitely, they just don't cease to exist like- Matter doesn't like disappear like that. They're definitely somewhere else.

BBH: What did Caracol say?

Pili: It's really hard to interview someone who don't speak the same language as you. I was trying to interview him, but I don't know. I don't really believe anything that he told me today.

BBH: Well, it's interesting because the keepers of the realm, if they do that. If they're actually stepping into a separate space, like say another dimension, then that means they're essentially doing. They actually have like some dimension they're occupying. It's not the divine dimension, it's just another dimension of some kind that they're able to just hop into. When they don’t want to see us, and then they just hop into ours and they go “Hi!”.

Pili: I agree. I 100% agree.

BBH: So is it some sort of magic that lets them hop like that? They keep talking about a shadow realm. Maybe the shadow realm coexists on top of our realm?

Pili: Or under?

BBH: Well, I mean like- kind of like layers of a pancake, right? Actually, more like a 7 layer burrito. Have you ever had a seven layer burrito?

Pili: No, but I know, I know, I know what it is.

BBH: Yeah, when you mix the ingredients, like they're separate ingredients, but they're also the same ingredient. So like, it's in the exact it occupies the same space, but we can't see it. So theoretically, they could literally be sitting here watching us. But here's an interesting thing. We don't know what rules govern them. And occupy their space. So theoretically they might not be able to hear us or see us when they're in that space. And the only way they can do that is to appear around us. That's the problem about this-

Pili: You seem to know a lot about this BadBoyHalo.

BBH: Oh yeah, no, I have some experience in popping in and out of certain spaces like that.

Pili: I know. Me too. But it's just weird how they do it.

BBH: Yeah, it’s fascinating.

Pili: I am 100% sure that there's a way to get to where they are. It's a matter of knowing where it is. So I'm pretty sure this location they're traveling to is 100% hidden. I can already see that.

BBH: It's a matter of knowing when it is.

Pili: That is also true.

BBH: That's the problem is we don't know- without knowing the rules of how it works. We don't know if it's- are they outside of time? So there are dimensions that could theoretically be cut inside of a moment in time or inside of a place. So if it's inside of a moment in time, then it could be a snapshot. That moves along like a minecart and it just moves along our timeline in the present. But it's a snapshot in an ever frozen realm in time where you never, it just never moves. The time just doesn't move in there. How do you even function in something like that?

Pili: It is really hard. I'm not gonna lie, it is really even- It's, I think it's almost impossible to follow them if we don't know. If we're talking about a place, it's easier. But if we're talking about time period, then that's harder cause it could also be in the past and we can't hop into the past. Which basically lead us into a very big disadvantage.

BBH: Which could explain their inability to really move into our thing. What if they're, I mean they can kind of move. But what if that's just what we're imagining is movement as they teleport between places? We might not actually be seeing them, we might just be seeing them looking in. In other words, it's not actually them, it's just the presence of them.

Pili: That's true. I may also say, you know, this is kind of like ghosts in a way. Cause I mean this is really ghost if you believe in ghosts or not really that's a whole other topic. But in my opinion it's just you know how some ghosts are like trapped. Technically I do believe that ghosts when they're trapped in this like realm like this like kind of in between situation. I do believe that they're trapped also in time so they're trapped in the past so it could be like a sort of same situation here. But I don't know, it's really complicated to comprehend. I mean, I guess we can try and interview them, but it's really hard to catch them.

BBH: It is. I don't think we can catch them unless there's some sort of. Hmm…they summoned a snail. I wonder of the snails come from wherever they are? The shadow realm?

Pili: Oh, 100%, 100%. I actually think snails control the keepers of the realm too. It's so weird for me cause I generally cannot comprehend the hierarchy that they have.

BBH: Have you had them suck your life out of you yet?

Pili: Yep, multiple times.

BBH: It was pretty wild.

Pili: Maybe they need the life.

BBH: Yeah.

Pili: I mean, there has to be a reason why they just like, show up sometimes. They're sucking life and then just leave.

BBH: I think we need to eat the keepers of the realm.

Pili: You think they'll be tasty? Honestly, I'll be down.

BBH: Well, if you can catch one, then we can eat it. I think I can figure it out. But let's see if we can catch one. They may not even be eatable.

Pili: I'll be down to eat a keeper of the realm. I think I'll be interesting.

BBH: But we got to be careful because they may have certain rules that they're governed by.

Pili: There's certain rules, yeah. I will even say they seem to be super organized in the way they work.

BBH: Not sure what they are though.

Pili: My guess right now is definitely some sort of magic. That is, that is my guess.

BBH: Hopefully we get a chance to fight them. It is, I guess possible, but it is just some sort of illusion magic. That's the problem with. That's a problem with anything. Is there certain things that can just be one thing or the other. And if it's illusion magic, then we kinda, we won't really know. Like, what if it's the snails projecting images of the keepers of the realm and the snails? They control it all. They control everything. They control the government.

Pili: I genuinely think the snails are the one in charge. Maybe not all of them, but maybe some of them are in charge 100%. There's no way they're not in charge.

BBH: I think you're right.

Pili: Like, I feel like- the proof. Here's the thing. I think their mistake was getting angry because. I think what happened yesterday with Crinkle 100% gave us a very big like clue of what's going on. Because the fact that because Crinkle's like hammer mace thing got like destroyed, we saw literally Crinkle summon keepers of the realm, like call them in command. So we know that the snails can call them in command. And we also saw them that Crinkle kind of arranged this like. Boss fight for him and Pangi to happen. So I feel like that little emotional burst from Crinkle on what happened definitely gave us a big clue on whatever is going on behind the scenes. And I think in all honesty, if Crinkle can act that way out of emotions and do all that because of anger. Like simple anger for one item. I think they're not that powerful. I don't think we should hold them to even God like status in my opinion. I think they're lower than that 100% cause I don't see why a God will be throwing a tantrum over a mace. A God would have just like killed Pangi right there in my opinion. Not pull all that theatric scenario. Yeah, I don't know. That's my opinion. They're definitely breakable, in my opinion. If they snap like that, they're definitely breakable. They can be manipulated. Yeah, they're not really that high up in my opinion.

BBH: Anything can be messed with if you can make it angry.

Pili: Exactly my point.

BBH: But you got to be careful because snails might have their own rules. They might do something drastic if we make them snap, you know?

Pili: Yep.

BBH: But that would be kind of fun.

Pili: Yeah, it would.

#the realm smp #trsmp #tr!bad #tr!pili #fishytranscription

33 notes · View notes

landwriter · 2 years ago

Text

Desperate Measures | Dream/Hob | 1.2K | G v silly and fluffy, literally 90% air, dream attempts a romantic gesture, hob is a sap and forgetful, human au, part text fic

for @domaystic drabbles, Day 6: Under the Same Umbrella

---

Dream woke up to 26 texts from Hob. He put on his glasses and began his morning read. It’d replaced Times for him. The editorial quality, he thought, was far superior.

Hob (7:19 am) heading out, gave you a wee forehead kiss and you didn’t even stir. sleeping bloody beauty. love you disgustingly much x

Hob (7:26 am) couldn’t find my umbrella anywhere can you take a look if it’s not too much of a bother? feel like i’ve gone mad

Hob (7:30 am) christ it’s bucketing down!! standing under the eaves just to tell you how much it’s bucketing down

plants will be happy at least so will my goth boyfriend ;) hope your writing goes well today love. extra atmosphere!!

Hob (8:42 am) nevermind don’t look for it remembered that i left it in my office told johanna she can use it since i’m at the archives all day anyway glad i’m not the only one who’d forget their own head if it wasn’t screwed on :) :) :)

Hob (10:11 am) you should’ve seen the look lisa gave me when i showed up had to dry myself off in the men’s w half a forest of paper towels there goes my carbon offset from walking i said christ you’re probably still in bed asleep warm dry!! lucky bastard

wish i could come back already and drip puddles all over you

Hob (10:37 am) if this keeps up i’m going to look like mr darcy in the rain on your doorstep tonight don’t worry i promise not to propose marriage while insulting you xx although i do love you most ardently

...elizabeth

Dream smiled, read them all again, contemplated, and then sent his reply.

Dream (11:01 am) Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through

Hob replied moments later.

?? you sound like a customer service agent wait you’re quoting the film you can’t reject me if i’ve not proposed to you!! yet!!!

Dream snorted. 'and I am very sorry I have caused you pain' went the line. They’d watched it last weekend. Hob had cried, and Dream had privately decided that if Hob proposed, he’d say yes. Even if it was poorly done. It wouldn’t be, though. Not if Hob was doing it. He sent a second text.

...and I am very sorry you were drenched by rain.

Then he got out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. His phone buzzed anew as he made tea and toast. He smiled at the sound. On their first date, Hob had warned Dream that he had a bad habit of annoying boyfriends over text. Dream, on his first date in six years, had wondered what it might be like to be so effusively charming that you could have enough boyfriends to form habits around them at all. He hadn’t known what to say, and Hob had ducked his head, grimacing a little, and said, “Just tell me to piss off, please, if I do? I know I can be a bit much.”

Dream believed it, because the man was telling him about his habits with boyfriends after one date. Not that he minded. And three months in, Dream had yet to tell him to piss off.

Turns out, a bit much was exactly what he’d wanted. Needed, in truth. Someone to tether him to the real world. His phone had become a modern-day lodestone in his pocket, a comforting pull of Hob-ness that would always point him back to life whenever he’d emerge, blinking and disoriented, out of the mire of his work. Work that he loved - creating worlds out of nothing, writing stories that would change people - but, coming on the age of thirty with nothing to show for it but recurring wrist strain and an upmarket flat that never had any guests, work that had also made him spend so much time apart from the rest of humanity that he was sometimes unsure how to rejoin it.

The tipping point had been when his eldest sister had found out that he hadn’t spoken to anyone else in between two of their regular dinners. Which were monthly. It had been mortifying. She’d smiled sadly, which was excruciating enough, and then gotten the gleam of a plan in her eyes, which had been far worse. “I’m setting you up,” she’d said. “I know just the guy. We go way back. I think you’ll like him.”

He had. Now, when his phone buzzed, he found himself frowning if it wasn’t Hob. (An exceedingly rare occasion.) But this time it was, of course. Four short messages sent one after the other:

hahahaha ok fine that was v good enjoy your day x

Five hours later, not even the curtain of rain awaiting him outside could douse the anticipation in his belly. An idea, he knew, was a powerful thing. Dream didn’t have an umbrella - Hob always shared with him, and would’ve apologetically nicked his if he had - so he would make the first leg of the journey as Hob did. He intended to go and get something nice, but once in the cold downpour, his resolve failed him almost at once, and he ducked into the first shop that had umbrellas in the window.

“Hiya,” said the girl at the counter without looking up from her phone.

Dream ignored her, blinking the rain out of his eyes, belatedly registering all the merchandise had a unifying theme and that he’d made a terrible mistake, borne of sheer desperation.

“Would you happen to have any other umbrellas? In black?” he asked. Hidden behind the counter, perhaps. If only you knew to ask.

The girl looked at him with an air of disbelieving reproval only accessible to teenagers and the very elderly. “You could try Boots, you know. It’s just down the street.”

Dream looked out the window. Rain torrented down. Commuters hurried past with their sensibly coloured umbrellas. From places exactly like Boots.

“Or we’ve got rain ponchos,” she added. It sounded like a threat.

“Nevermind,” said Dream quickly. “I’ll take it.”

“Enjoy your visit in London, sir,” she called out as he left.

He stepped outside and flicked open the umbrella with slightly more force than necessary.

Dream waited a few paces outside the archives, wanting to surprise Hob properly. Two separate pairs of tourists had thought he was their London Ghost Tours guide, and he was beginning to regret not holding out for longer, drenching be damned. Then Hob emerged, striding out and immediately stopping to pull out his phone. He was smiling at it. Dream smiled too, in anticipation.

A moment later his own phone buzzed loudly in his coat pocket, and Hob looked up in surprise.

“Oh my god,” he said. Then he said it again.

“I heard you needed an umbrella,” said Dream. He’d had the line already, since he got the idea. It had been very dashing and romantic in his head. It was somewhat undermined by the dreadful costuming choice that had been forced upon him.

Hob looked between Dream and the umbrella, bafflement melting into a happy laugh. He ducked underneath, pecking Dream on the lips. “I’m not sure I needed one quite this badly. Did you rob some poor tourist?”

“Unhappily, I paid for this.”

“Oh no,” said Hob, pulling away and pretending to inspect him for injury. “My poor darling. Your dignity.”

Dream sniffed. “I will recover.”

“Here,” said Hob. “I’ll carry it for you. You’ll only be guilty by association, then.”

They began walking, a bobbing Union Jack in a sea of blacks and greys. After the chief sin of ugliness, it was also a little small for two grown men, but Dream found he didn’t resent that at all, as Hob tucked him tightly into his side to keep them both dry. People gave them a wide berth. Tourists could never be trusted with umbrellas.

“You’ve rescued me, you know,” said Hob, nuzzling into his cheek.

“It wouldn’t do to have you dripping puddles all over the floors,” said Dream.

“Even if I looked terribly handsome, all wet and ardent?”

Dream bit his lip and smiled a little. “Perhaps you can be wet and ardent in the shower. Instead.”

Hob laughed again. It was Dream’s favourite sound. “Much warmer than the rain anyway. Deal.” Rain drummed down on their private nylon ceiling. “I was thinking chicken tikka masala for dinner?”

And so they made their way home, and although the rain never let up, Dream was so content and warm that he might’ve sworn they were walking in the sun.

#dreamling #domaystic2023 #this is DISTRESSINGLY sweet you've been warned #the sandman #three days in a row!#new record for actually doing a monthly prompt thing #continuing to just write about today's weather and call it a fic #my writing #the sandman fanfic

701 notes · View notes