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iznsfw · 2 years ago

Text

The Devil's Telephone

IVE's An Yujin x Male Reader Smut

6969 words

Categories | model!Yujin x photojournalist!you, rough sex

Barely edited. Who cares, I did great.

"Is it true? What they say about you?"

You're nervous, fidgeting in the king-sized bed with your arm leaning against the mattress. It feels odd to be in a rich and attractive girl's place without being naked. Not that it's something you've experienced before anyway, but it's like breaking an unspoken law everyone but you was oriented to. But you have your manners, and so does she. Supposedly.

She's still beside you, her expensive clothes hiding not her shapely form. And to think it looks beautiful without the need for oil painting all around it or nakedness. That pretty smile, that also intimidates you a little, is the cherry on top of the cake that is An Yujin.

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?"

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly.

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

Yujin lifts herself off her comfortable lounge position on her bed and instead sits on the backsides of her legs. Her hands are on your lap rather than her own. Should've been a sign for you that this is going nowhere but in a downward spiral.

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?"

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not," says Gaeul. "Say that one more time and your career's over. No going back."

The small smile that's an everyday accessory to her features is gone. That tells you that what she says is what there is to her statement. What you hear is what you get. There's no underlying tone to it; she's completely serious, and besides, when has Gaeul ever lied?

Wring the looped lace of your camera over your head and place it and the device that can make or break your career on her desk. "Nope," you say. "I'm not doing it."

"You will," Gaeul says. "Nobody else will do it."

"Can't you get Jiwon to show up there?" It's worth a try, right?

"Like I said, no chance. Rei's with her on vacation. And Yunjin is out of the question."

"God fucking dammit."

Looks like this day can actually get worse. First, you miss the taxi going to the studio, ending up being about an hour late to your meeting. And then the nervous intern almost spilled coffee all over your camera. Luckily, the scalding liquid only ended up mostly on your pressed shirt. It's like the day is toying with your feelings, trying to see how far you can get without breaking down.

Your eye twitches. The day might see your breaking point after all.

"Gaeul," you say, "I'm a photojournalist, not a fucking Seattle professional."

"And so are a quarter of the people who go to the fashion week," she counters. Gaeul exhales through her nostrils, then leans forward on her desk, hands folded. "All you have to do is stand in for Chaewon and take the photos for each model. Don't worry about the caption."

"How'll I know what they're wearing?"

"I can do that for you. I'm quite the fashion enthusiast, if I do say so myself."

You don't see the sense in it, like, at all. "Then why don't you go take the photos?"

"Because I don't want to, newbie," replies Gaeul simply. She swings her legs over the table and places her palms behind her neck. "You can sit here all day whining about I'm-a-photojourn-this and I-can't-do-it-that, but you're still going to go through."

Gaeul's a rather straightforward girl, yet she can still make her blunt words sound frightening. You have to show that you can hold your own, too, and that you're not going to back up. Ever.

"And why do you think I'll give in so easily?" you challenge.

She smiles. "Because An Yujin's going to be there, and unless you live under a fucking rock, you'd know she's the main attraction."

You aren't dumb. Of course you know her. It’s impossible not to know of her when the magazines all scream her name and the camera flashes crave her presence. It’s hard to navigate life without at least seeing a Yujin standee for one of the brands she sponsors or her face on soju labels. She’s become a household name that, even if you somehow wished it to be the other way, she's become an inescapable force in every Korean’s life. That’s just how it works. It’s been like that for as long as you remember.

She rose up in the industry at a young age. Being her age, you can remember the buzz she creates among your classmates, from head-over-heels, hopeless romantic boys and adoring girls (and a few girls who'd die to be able to touch her, too.) She's on their phone wallpapers, in another cutesie pose, and on the photocards in the back of clear cases. She's here, she's there, she's everything everywhere.

You're familiar with her, but nothing about her except the usual: she's a model, she's an idol, she's a—

Ah, how should it go?

The girl beside you at the event, who's rather tall and if circumstances were different should be on the runway herself, tells you it goes like this: "She's an international free-use backstabbing slut."

Well, you didn't expect Kazuha to say that so easily (she told you her name earlier just so you had something to call her during the mandatory small talk), but you know what she's talking about. However, you have no right to say Yujin's a slut when you're dressed… well, dressed like this. Your whole outfit is an embarrassing array of rainbow colors. Even your tie's pulled into passiveness by the colorful dress code. If this is what those high fashion enthusiasts call "fashion," you're glad you're not a part of them. You'll be glad to keep shopping at your local thrift store.

Hence, "I wouldn't put it that way," you say.

Kazuha smirks. "How would you say it?" she asks.

Why is she so interested in what you think about her? You suspect Kazuha's one of those girls who's rather jealous of the stick-figure models strutting the runway but would deny it with all her soul. Maybe that's it. She's jealous that she sits there in the audience while perfection after perfection makes themselves known to the public.

"She's…" You snap a pic of another eighty-pound model walking down the runway. "Uh, promiscuous. That's all."

Kazuha grins. She purses her lips and writes down on her notepad, probably intending to use your statement as a headline pun. "Maybe we should switch jobs," she says. "You can be the devil's advocate journalist, and I can be the white knight photographer."

Exhale loudly. For fuck's sake, you want to tell her, I'm only here to do the job I didn't want in the first place. Why has she chosen you to play with to fulfill her boredom? Whatever game she's set, you're not joining.

"Look, what is it about Yujin that you hate?" you ask.

"She fucked Jang Wonyoung, those MCs she used to partner up with, that actress from the period drama who was on Produce, too… everybody."

"Okay." You look at her pointedly. "Source?"

Kazuha gestures a rude index to the runway. "Look at her. Look at her and tell me she isn't a slut. I dare you."

You look up from the lens of your camera for once, and as much as you'd like to come to Yujin’s defense, seeing as there’s no evidence to all those allegations and being a public figure with all the criticism must be the deepest ring of hell, you see what Kazuha means.

You hate to say it, and you’d love to pass no judgment, but the prodding journalist is right. Yujin isn't skin and bones like the other models, nor does she wear light makeup. However, her confident gaze that not once settles on the floor immediately makes you think, wow, now that is a model. She only looks forward, stepping onto the smooth floor in heels that make her much taller than she already is. Her eyes are lined with this sharp, blaring dark that makes her brown contacts stand out and makes her look like a black cat. So much for Jiwon’s nickname.

But that isn’t all. It’s far from done, because it’s not Yujin’s arrogant smile that drips of sultriness that confirms Kazuha's allegations for you, nor is it her makeup. It’s what she’s wearing. Her chest nearly spills out of the oddly-cut neckline of her blouse, and it’s see-through, meaning that even if her busty figure is in some way contained by the clothing, you can still see everything. For example, her tummy lined with her abs and a small tattoo (barely noticeable, but enough to cause a few tabloids to freak out); her wide hips, and of course; the bare flesh of her breasts. The fabric tape does nothing to hide them when her brown nipples beg to be seen through the fabric. Each bounce coerced by her confident strut is out there for all to see, and so are the jiggles of her full thighs.

Which part of everything do you have to immortalize in a photograph? You don’t know. You just keep taking pictures. There’s plenty enough to create a video of her walk without actually having to record one.

Seeing your dropped jaw, Kazuha grins satisfactorily. “Told you,” she says.

You aren’t done looking, though. As the press and audience scream her name, (they all know her name—she’s bagged so many brand deals, shot more than enough magazine covers, and performed songs you couldn’t count on two hands just so that any type of audience can recognize her), Yujin steps up to the end of the catwalk. She smiles at all the attention, setting a hand on her waist before blowing several kisses to the audience.

And, of course, she finishes off her umpteenth walk with another scandal:

Shredding her blouse into pieces. Yujin rips it clean from the seams, letting the lost dangle of fabric finally reveal the whole of her chest. Her skimpy shorts are the only thing remaining complete on herself.

The viewers gasp, and you do, too. But you're hypocrites, the lot of you, for you remain interested in scanning every bit of her enviable body. Secretly, you all know that some part of you were looking there even before her blouse ripped.

You haven’t seen a model do that before, but then again, she’s not just a model. She’s plenty of things: a singer, an idol, an ambassador—

A slut. A full-on, shameless, lives-up-to-her-name slut.

“So.”

“So,” you say, resentfully. Your camera’s in your bag, and Gaeul is on the phone with you. You’re proceeding out of the vicinity like everybody else. It's eight p.m.; someone’s bound to be hungry at this hour, and that someone is you.

You can hear the giggle in her voice as she asks you, “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you say, flabbergasted. Zip up your satchel bag and walk through the rain. “Gaeul, the girl just ripped her shirt off in front of everyone! This isn’t what I signed up for!”

What should you get tonight? Minute Burger? Maybe McDonald’s or some sushi? You’d take anything—you’re pretty hungry after the long show. If this is how hunger hits after shows, you’re glad you don’t have to go through the whole fashion week. By Saturday, you’d be as dead as everyone was after the stunt Yujin pulled.

“I thought you knew about her, newbie,” replies Gaeul. She’s clearly poking fun at your reaction. What’s also clear is the obvious fact that she picked you out for this job just to see how you’d handle it. Would you go crazy? Treat Yujin as a Victorian man who’d just seen a lady’s ankles would? Oh, she’d love to find out.

“I didn’t know she was…"

"Yeah?"

"B-bold.”

“Oh, please be normal about it. You’re a photojournalist. You handled the dead guy who was stabbed alright, but a woman showing her tits is where you cross the line?”

“It’s not that,” you say tiredly. Your stomach is really growling now. “I guess… I think…”

"Hey."

Your phone drops to the wet cement road. Like a haunting phantom, Yujin appears out of nowhere. It's like she suddenly materialized from the fog of the storm.

You don't know where to look. Yujin's still dressed, (somewhat), in her ruined blouse. The thing is even more transparent as the rain beats down on it. Still, she looks perfect. She is perfect. You know that without having to be a fan of her.

The light from a camera hidden in a beaten bush makes you flinch. If the crouched man in black taking photos of Yujin isn't there, you'd have accepted your fate to get struck by lightning. Yujin raises her eyebrows questioningly, and you're forced to compose yourself once more.

"Uh, hi," you stammer. Bend down to pick your sodden phone up. Darn it, it's dead. How will you contact Gaeul now?

"You're one of the photographers, right?" asks Yujin. Unlike you, she doesn't care that your phone has met its end, or mind that her boobs are out in the open.

You mutter something of agreement, but you're still tinkering with your phone. The battery's probably broken, which's a pity when your late mother gifted it to you on the last birthday you had together.

"Damn, must be nice to snap photos of a half-naked chick, huh? You liked seeing me up there?"

That makes you stop fiddling with your destroyed gadget. "I," you say, cornered into confession but still trying to gather a burst of energy to escape, "I'm not—"

"An Yujin," she says, as if the whole world doesn't scream her name. As if she were just another girl out there who's a little too friendly. She doesn't offer her hand; she grasps yours and shakes it firmly.

You have no other choice but to be acquainted with her there and then. You tell her your name, albeit nervously, as you slip your phone into your pocket. What is she planning? Why is she out here with you?

Yujin grins. "Nice to meet you. Want to come to a party at my house? Starts when we get there."

Now you understand what she's planning. What else would you expect from her?

First things first, though: where should you look? Her chest is a dangerous option. To look or not to look? That is the question—you choose the second option. Note the dim stars in the foggy sky. Look down at the road blotted with raindrops. Remark inwardly about the state of your shoes and how they're too expensive to be dragged through a weather like this.

Second, should you go? Gaeul would be looking for you. She'd want the pics immediately so she could put them in the magazine and on your company blog site. But you haven't had fun in years, and for a girl with the wealth and status of Yujin, it might be a new beginning.

Work, however, comes first.

"I'm sorry," you tell her. You really are. Yujin seems like a fun girl outside of her wildness. "I don't think I—"

"Great! Come on, I'll drive you!"

That's how you end up in a limousine for the first time in your life and learn that An Yujin doesn't take no for an answer.

The seats are dark and soft, and there's two long aisles of it for thirty pax max to occupy. However, despite the spaciousness, Yujin still chooses to sit snugly beside you. Should you feel flattered? Intimidated? You struggle to choose for this question.

You wonder where you're headed. The infamous Jang Hills where celebrities like singer Son Seungwan and model and humanitarian Jang Wonyoung, who owns the place, reside? The rain is too strong for you to be able to see where the vehicle's headed, but you suspect that's the destination. There's no other.

"So," says Yujin. She's still sitting comfortably beside you. Her smile dimples her cheeks, and it just doesn't match the boldness of her ripped blouse. When she wears that smile, she looks like a girl who's too cheerful and innocent to be… the way she is. "Would I have to pay you to see my photos?"

"For god's sake, Miss An, put on some clothes before you scare the guy," chuckles the driver, shaking his head. He's a tall, dark man with the typical shades and a rosary on his rearview mirror. You wonder if he prays for Yujin sometimes.

"But that's no fun," she says, the pout on her face growing wider when her driver tosses her a black fur coat (that still reminds you of her when you note how the chest part is gone) and sleeveless innerwear. Seems like he keeps clothes in his car for situations like these. "Clothes are so big and boring, you know. Totally outdated.

"Anyway, about the photos…?"

"Oh, you don't have to pay," you tell her. But you know that money isn't a problem with Yujin—she can buy you and your whole life if she chose to.

"Gimme then." She makes grabby hands, and your camera eventually ends up in them. Her eyes sparkle with narcissistic adoration. "Oh damn, I look hot. Delete this, though. Bad angle."

"I– okay."

"My tits look amazing, don't you think? Come on, say my tits look fantastic."

"Ms. An," says the driver firmly, albeit his tone holds some of the amusement in it still. "Put on some clothes."

Yujin rolls her eyes, but she does. And you watch as she strips, painfully slow. She pulls the soaked blouse above her wet body, showing her bare, beautiful arms and pits. Even her soft midriff is perfect. And, try as you may (must), you can't stop looking. Several snaps and pinches would be too weak to pull you back into reality, because there's the goddess that she is to look at. You figure out now why your former classmates were and still are obsessed with her. She may be a wild little thing, but she's got an amazing body, an amazing fashion sense. Everything about her, even her boldness, is enviable. Desirable. Unreachable.

The clothes mold to her beautiful shape. The damp, slightly messy hair only adds to her beauty. You can feel yourself getting warm.

"We're here," says Yujin cheerfully, oblivious to the way your eyes are raking down her perfect body. "Here's your camera. Wouldn't want it to break like your phone. Pity."

Getting up to open the car door isn't part of a wealthy girl's everyday life. Yujin isn’t an exception—she has her driver to do that plus assist her out of the limo, and when he does, you're welcomed into a whole new world.

The rain has halted. Signs of its earlier presence, however, can be seen on the drops on the maze of bushes. There's statues of Eros, gray and mighty with his strong arms and arrows, perched on pedestals to the entrance of the mansion. Through the gate, you catch sight of a large pool, where heiresses and friends of Yujin laugh and swim. It's no land for lowlives. You are the exception, somehow.

"This… this is your house?"

"Yep!” She nods positively. “Daddy gave it to me after he died from a heart attack."

"My condolences," you say. As the guards open the gate to Yujin's mansion, you admire the place. It looks like a temple for cupids. Perhaps it’s Yujin they’re worshiping. "Did he have heart conditions before that?"

"No." She shakes her head then waves happily to one of her friends at the pool. "He just saw me wearing a bra over my crop top, and he dropped dead."

You snort. Yujin looks at you weirdly. That's how you realize she isn't kidding.

"You're serious?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but forgets it. It's a long story that doesn't need more sequels.

Just the second drink of the night and you’ve met more celebrities than an average person would see personally in their whole life. As the dazzling disco ball shimmers rainbow colors all over the place, you catch sight of more than plenty of pretty and handsome faces. Over there is Jang Wonyoung, one of the models who walked earlier, and Miyawaki Sakura, a famous CEO of more beauty lines than you can count on ten fingers. Whether their beauties are handcrafted or God-given, they all have something in common: they’re all A-listers—they’re relevant, popular, used to this wild lifestyle. Camera flashes have trained them not to flinch at the gliding lights. This is an everyday routine in their book.

However, you’re used to being behind the camera, not in front of it. You’re overstimulated by the sea of laughing, moving bodies and the loud music. While Yujin happily screams and downs several shots, you stand idly beside her, dizzy and tired.

“I don’t think I can handle more.”

“Past your bedtime?” asks Yujin, grinning. She waves at Wonyoung and points at you, mouthing something to her, to which the model winks in response. You wonder what kind of exchange the two models had that granted an unusually smug look on Wonyoung’s face. You’re certain it’s about you, but you don’t know what it’s about. You’re not even sure if you want to discover it.

“It’s not that,” you say embarrassedly. “I’m… I’m not a party person. I get lightheaded easily.”

“Wanna take a break? Go to my room?”

Now that’s a red flag. It doesn't even try to hide its true color; it waves proudly in front of you. You’re the bull who went straight for it.

Yujin’s bedroom is the size of your living room, with a large bed to match. Curtained pillars stand on each end while posters hang off the walls. You suppose that the people on them are the ones Yujin looks up to: IU, known as Lee Jieun whenever she ventures out of singing and into acting; Marilyn Monroe (no explanation needed), and a few other nameless models and actresses. A lot are old posters of seventies’ pornographic films. Lights frame the mirror on the dresser table.

“You’re a privileged girl, miss An,” you say. It’s the only way you can respectfully say that she’s kind of a spoiled brat. But maybe that’s your jealousy talking.

“I know, right?” replies Yujin, twirling around. “And please, call me Yujin. You can sit on the bed if you want to.”

Your mind toys with the idea of the posters on her wall debating if you’re the hundredth person to have come over or the thousandth. Nevertheless, you want to stay neutral; it’s none of your business anyway. So you take a seat on the edge of the softest mattress you’ve ever felt while Yujin does so, too. She kicks her boots off on the carpeted floor.

“Hey,” says Yujin, “want to play a game before you doze off?”

Just how many red flags does this girl have? “Er, sure.” You shrug. Maybe it’s just a game, nothing more, like she said.

“Since we barely know each other, let’s take turns asking each other questions. Dibs on the first question.

“I haven’t seen you in shows before. How did you end up there?”

A safe start. “One of my coworkers was sick,” you explain. “I had to fill in for her. My turn.”

“Hit me.”

“Did you take modeling classes?”

Yujin laughs as if it was the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “God, no,” she says. “Classes and workshops are scams. All I had to do was ask my daddy to ask for a spot for me.”

“Must be nice.”

“Right? Did you take classes for photography?”

“I took one of the scams, yeah,” you say, earning a giggle from Yujin. “I’m a journalist first. It’s all I know.”

Meaningful silence fills the air. You remain hooked on your sentence, realizing how true it is. Photojournalism is the only thing you’re good at. It’s sheltered you and brought you so many opportunities at the same time. You don’t know how to find other hobbies to make your forte when you’re stuck in its bubble, and its bubble only. Without your camera, you’re nothing. Without people like Yujin to take photos of, you’re nothing, too.

You suppose you should break the heavy silence. But you’re unsure if your question should be asked; it might trigger a violent response from her, although she’s been nothing but laid-back with you. And you don’t particularly want a rich girl to ruin your career. You’ve gone so far that the only direction to look at is forward.

But you must learn to take risks.

"Is it true? What they say about you?"

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?"

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly.

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?"

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

You’re flustered. Did Yujin—this tall, alluring model that’s got her whole life ahead of her yet nothing to lose, this irritatingly attractive Yujin—really say that to you? Or was it something lost in the swarms of shouts and music from outside of the room? Maybe you’ve misheard. Maybe you’ll keep playing safe tonight.

But those are just mere maybes with no connection at all to what’s about to happen.

“Can’t do it yourself, pretty boy? Let me help you.”

Yujin lifts your satchel bag from your shoulders. You find yourself raising your arms to help her. It’s like the what and tension in the air have infected you and made you into this heated, lustful character far from the real you, because if this were truly your own self, you’d say you had a career. You’d say this shouldn’t be happening. You’d leave the room instead of helping her unbuckle your belt. You’d do anything but this.

Perhaps she’s changed you.

Yujin slips a tongue along the path of her luscious lips at the sight of your bare thighs and cock. “Our friend here,” she says, “needs a little help from me, no?”

“Yujin…” you moan, and it’s humiliating, especially when barely anything sexual has happened yet. At least, anything sexually physical.

Luckily for you, she curls her fist around your dick and gives justification to your breathy sounds. Maybe the rumors about how she likes to get around are true; Yujin knows how to work her way with a cock. Her warm fingers jerk your flesh at just the right timing, letting the hardness build up before doing that too with the pace. She’s looking at you with this wild desire in her eyes that grows bigger when your erection does, too. Oh, and that smile—if looks could kill, An Yujin would already be arrested for your murder.

“Now that’s not so bad, is it?” she remarks. She spits on your cock. Her wet saliva coats your length with just enough to let her smooth palm slide along itself pleasurably. “You like this? Just wait until you feel my pussy. Or maybe my lips would do first? The higher ones, I mean.”

Yujin’s lips descend onto your shaft, welcoming it into an impossibly soft and wet heaven. Yujin’s little tongue flicks at your base gently, even daring to lick at a little part of your balls before working their way up. It deliciously slides upwards at your veins.

“Fuck, Yujin. Your mouth—fuck, it feels so good.”

“Mmm.” Yujin engages in an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss with your tip. “I know. I’d fuck me, too, if I could, but I have you to do that.”

“Right,” you say breathily, because she is. If she’s sucking your cock this well and her cheek’s painfully stimulating as your cockhead brushes it, how much better would her pussy be? You’re definitely fucking her, even if your experience in this is zero. Yes, that’s also right: you’re a virgin. Zero experience, no bitches.

But, if it means anything, it’s the other way around. It’s Yujin making you her bitch. She may be serving you with the lips and kisses of a good girl, but her eyes tell you that there’s more to it than you think. You’re hers, see, for this night, and that’s all you ever will be. You’re no photojournalist anymore—you’re Yujin’s one night stand, and that’s the only achievement people will ever remember to your name.

“These’re so fucking full,” murmurs Yujin as she admires your heavy balls. Sucking on them lightly before smiling up at you, she adds, “Make sure to blow all of it in my face, ‘kay? Promise me.”

“Think you can handle it, Yujin?” you ask, and it’s another embarrassing moment you’ll relive forever, for your cockiness will never get on the level she has. Your voice shakes too hard and your cock drips too much—it’s clear who owns who at this point.

“I’m a big girl.” Unfazed, she smiles. “I can handle myself.”

“Y-you sure?”

“Oh, don’t play hard to get it, baby,” Yujin coos. She pleases you with one hand and glides her fingers on your thigh with the other. It’s deadly. She’s deadly. “Let your guard down. It’s just me.”

“And you’ve said that to how many people?” you shoot back.

“More than you’re worth,” she quips. She winks at you. “Now cum for me.”

Ouch, but it doesn’t matter when her lips provide a great suction to cool the burn. It’s making your cock feel the heat instead, forming the tightness in your stomach more. Her hands massaging your thighs causes your sensitivity to reach an all-time high. Yujin’s covered your shaft in such an amountful that just one lick sends your toes curling. She licks, she sucks, she laps at your weak spots and delights in the upward push of your hips, but her hands keep your legs down. Can’t have her meal escaping. She wants all of your cum, and when Yujin wants (no, needs) something, she gets it. It’s how she’s navigated life, having everything her heart could ever want brought to her by whim. But if she has to work for your cum, then so be it. Either-which-way, she’s not giving up until she gets it.

She kisses your cock deeply, almost making your lips jealous. She sucks on each sensitive side and your dripping tip. What takes the cake, though, is how she downs the whole thing so suddenly, slipping itself inside her tight throat and letting you fuck it. Gasps can’t be contained by your pursed lips, and their cycle of repetition continues because of her. Because of Yujin, Yujin and her stupidly desirable mouth.

“Fuck,” you whine. When she hears that, she pulls away. Like rain, drops of semen make slick landings on her face. You keep expelling several shots of the thing she so desperately wants, and you realize that, even with your own pleasure being fulfilled, you’re still serving Yujin. You’re still giving her what she wants: your cum on her face. The fact that she’s playing with you remains stoic.

“Ah, this is the best.” Yujin licks her cumstained lips. “I could have swallowed it all like I did with these cherries here, but I can’t let it spoil the main course.”

“W-which is?” you inquire, still panting. Can you handle more?

You find out through Yujin taking off her black vest. Then, she slips out of her jean skirt. It hugs her lower figure so nicely that it nearly makes you mourn their departure, but you find a better thing to gawk at, and it’s Yujin’s ass and thighs. She may have dressed earlier, but the panties were off. She cares not for modesty, even outside of the modeling industry. It’s just not who she is.

For that, you’re glad. If Yujin were modest, you wouldn’t have had the chance to see her fat ass and shaven pussy up close. You wouldn’t get to see her sway her hips side to side, letting you see from behind how her ass ripples and bounces, or let you peer at her dripping thighs.

"You're weaker than all the others," Yujin notes. "I like it."

Should you be offended? Probably, but you aren't, because there's her approval. There's her saying that she likes how easily you break. There's her on the bed with her pussy spread by her fingers, revealing her tiny hole and needy clit.

There's a lot to look at is what you're saying, and a lot to take in consideration. For example—

"Ohhhh, fuck," moans Yujin. She rubs her core and gets a feel of how wet she is. "I'm so wet, see? I'm so, fuck, wet from blowing you."

Yujin leans against one of the pillars of her bed. What makes the sight of her masturbating hotter is that she's still covered in the face with cum that soon drips down her neck and onto her collarbone. She looks like she's been used incessantly, to the point where no amount of cock or finger can help her reach a good enough high. Although you're still sensitive, you begin to jack yourself off to her.

"Shit. Ohhh." Her head tosses backwards and she shuts her eyes. "This feels so good. Make me feel even better. Use your mouth."

It's all about what she wants, but you find out that you also want to put your mouth on her. Stop jerking off to kneel on the floor and place your hands on her thick thighs. You have no idea how to do this except from porn, but she moans loudly when you flick your tongue upwards, so you must be doing well.

Yujin's so wet that she dribbles on her expensive sheets. The feminine scent of her drives you crazy. Due to that, you pick up the pace of eating Yujin out. She's delicious. Better than any expensive meal you got going out.

"Oh, fuck," mewls Yujin. She grinds her clit down on the flat of your tongue. "That's it. Eat me out like that."

Next, guide your tongue to her slit, catching the juices she has. Push it inside, make her thighs suddenly clamp around your head. Painful, but worth it, because as useful as her makeshift earmuffs are, you can still make out her heavy moans.

“G-good, god, so good. Don’t you stop, don’t you fucking stop.”

“I won’t.”

The force of your mouth holds nothing back as it holds Yujin’s nub captive. She pulses in your mouth, and you can sense that she’s close because she’s screaming. She's squirming, she's writhing, she's—

“Stop.”

“But I, I thought you said—” You were having such a good time, too. Why did she have to ruin it?

Yujin giggles. “I wanted to cum on your cock,” she confesses. Sweat rolls down the sides of her face. “Let me?”

She’s subtly assertive like that, asking you first before making you do it anyway. She’s so used to getting her way, so used to letting people bend reality into the form she wants. And you’re becoming one of those people, as you lie down on the bed and let her mount you. You don’t suppose anyone would refuse either—her splayed lips rubbing your tip seems like a good thing to have in exchange for being under her ownership.

“Fuck,” you curse. Maybe this is better, in hindsight. Her hole grasps for you, but she teases it by only letting her clit glide along your cock. “Miss An, ah, Yujin, you’re so—”

“Pretty? Successful? Tight?” She sinks down on your dick with a smirk that differs from your weakened look of bliss. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

They’re all perfect adjectives to describe her, but you weigh in the most on the last. Her soaked slit swallows you without time to properly take it in. She just keeps bouncing on you, a millisecond going unspared, as if she’d die if your cock weren’t ramming in her all times of the day. By her desperate moans, you think you’re right. They’re heavy, hanging onto your mind for too long that it just makes you throb harder inside.

You reach up to grab her tits. The bra-like innerwear she dons blocks you from experiencing the whole of it, and Yujin takes that into consideration, through which she pulls it up her arms and off herself. Her bust now moves up and down freely, looped in your mind like a constant reminder of how lucky you are to have Yujin fuck you. She may get around a lot, but whoever she fucks is like her: a hell of a catch.

You lift yourself up to suck on their brown nipples. She moans ferally. Her pushing your head deeper into her tits is how you realize you’ve wanted to do this, to suck and play and slap her chest, ever since you saw them be set free on the runway. It’s funny how two mounds of flesh can hypnotize you just like that. You’re trying to defeat the impulse actions they convince you to do, as if they were spiritual entities on your shoulder each to twist your decisions. But both are devils—even from their source, it’s clear that An Yujin is no angel.

“Yes, so good!” she screams. Her eyes are shut as she rides you with an impulse and speed that surely can’t be human. The pleasure she unleashes onto your cock as her pussy clings and gropes it must be the embodiment of the deadly sin of lust itself. It was written before in holy books, preached as a warning in churches. There’s no explanation for how angrily she impales herself with your cock. “Your cock’s too fucking big, I’m going to cum all over it!”

You spank her ass, and the plentiful skin wiggles right back into your hand. Seeing her face twist up into this pained yet blissful reaction inspires you to continue. That and your cock entering and exiting her hole, plus your kisses following the path of her neck makes Yujin go crazy.

“Fuck me!” She’s fully unhinged when she cums. Her short yet sharp, alliterate downward thrusts of her core leaves red on your thighs. She’s kissing you with this hunger that’s been fulfilled, in a way, but with which comes gluttony. She can’t have enough. She can’t have enough of your dick. It starts to scare you how she’s like the girls your pastor warned you about in Sunday school—she’s a gluttonous nymphomaniac greedy for things that aren’t good for her. Aren’t good for you.

Having sex with An Yujin makes you debate if you should go back to your religious roots and pray again. You’ve heard about the devil hiding behind human faces, and she completely fits the criteria: charming, deceiving, gorgeous beyond human comprehension. However, her divine body also can be something holy. It’s something that’s more than worth worshiping.

Which is which: evil or good? Angel or demon? A goddess who descended to earth or something far, far more dangerous?

Whichever, you just busted a load inside exactly that.

“So.”

“Hm?”

“Come on, tell me,” you say. Yujin’s teasing banter piques your curiosity to higher levels. “Did you really fuck all those people, or is it just,” shrug, as if you couldn’t care less when you do, “you know, hearsay?”

Yujin strokes your chest thoughtfully. The aftermath of the rough sex has left her almost invalid, but after a shower, she’s good to go. You followed suit after.

“The devil’s telephone,” she whispers.

“Huh?”

“Here. You know where to call me.”

#kpop smut #izone smut #ive smut #an yujin smut #ahn yujin smut #izone yujin smut #ive yujin smut #yujin smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #pov smut

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anakin-pilled · 1 year ago

Text

𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part two)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: no use of y/n

rating: rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)

author's note: thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged the first chapter! it meant so much to me. i cant believe i managed to push out two chapters in a week!! this chapter might seem slow, but only because im still new to writing fanfics and im trying to find the right groove of things, but please be patient as i hope to fasten the pace and tension with the new few chapters. as always, proofread but please let me know if you see any mistakes and feel free to nicely provide any criticism or suggestions (pls). i really want to keep everything as canon compliant to the star wars universe (minus the timeline, that's unspecified), but i decided to take some creative liberties for minor cultural and geographic details. i get most of my information from wookiepedia or the star wars reddit, so if you have any questions about anything, i'm happy to send any links. okay im gonna stop yapping now. taglist at the bottom! creds to saradika for the header!

You couldn’t bear another moment of dinner with Anakin. Something about him set your nerves on fire and left you completely unsettled–in a good way, a way that you’ve rarely felt before. But it was a way that you didn’t know how to deal with, and this deeply troubled you. How were you going to spend the next ten rotations with him? It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. You doubted Anakin would do anything wrong. No, you would be the one to do something wrong. Totally embarrassing yourself in front of him or unintentionally acting off-putting just because you found him too attractive.

Dammit, you were thinking like a schoolgirl with a crush.

After retreating to your quarters, you began to pace around your room. You had to get yourself out of this situation. Avoidance was always your favorite escape plan. It made life simpler when you avoided anything that made you uncomfortable or anxious. You weren’t exactly sure how you would avoid the 6’2 hunk of a Jedi. Asking Gido to remove him was out of the question. You couldn’t have Anakin removed, especially after the Chancellor had been kind enough to request one of the Jedi’s best members. You were being immature and you knew it. It hadn’t even been a full day and this man already made you so nervous that you felt like going haywire.

You gave yourself a small facepalm. “What am I going to do?” you whispered to yourself. You needed to put distance between you and Anakin. That way you would stay as unaffected as possible. Plus, it’s not like anything could happen between you two. Anakin was a Jedi, and you knew that the Jedi had some unorthodox rules surrounding relationships. However (a small and delusional) part of you already imagined a future between the two of you. You already imagined your lips on his. A man that captivating only came around every few millennia. Well, that was hyperbolic of you to think. Even you, a celebrity with access to Coruscant’s rich and famous upper echelon, never came across a man like Anakin. When was the last time you even got fucked or had one good Holodrama kiss? Dating is hard when you’re a celebrity. You meet people with the wrong intentions–cocky men who care more about having you as some sort of trophy or are afraid of looking beneath you just because you’re more rich than them. Plus, aside from the shitty dating pool, you were simply too busy with your career to indulge in relationships and sex. It honestly quite was ironic considering many of your songs revolved around love.

The more you thought, the more you felt trapped in your room. An intrusive thought popped into your head, but you quickly brushed away the thought before it got you in trouble. But then the thought appeared again, and you couldn’t help but entertain what your brain was saying.

Her presence is suffocating is the first thing Anakin thought as you left the room. As a trained Jedi, Anakin mastered the practice of shielding others' thoughts and emotions from affecting him. But you were being so loud through the Force. Anakin felt the same nervous energy he felt earlier in the day when he first met you. Except this time, he felt it ten times worse.

Anakin knew he was being quiet during dinner. But it was hard to focus with your energy screaming in his ears! So, he focused on trying to enjoy his meal instead. You were nice, Anakin would give you that. But he felt if he talked to you, while also trying to stave off your energy from his, he would overwhelm himself. It was all too distracting–a feeling that Anakin rarely felt.

Anakin then proceeded toward his assigned room, ready to prepare for the night. Luckily, he didn’t have to stay on guard the entire night as there was no threat direct threat to you in Coruscant. Sleep slowly became a stranger to Anakin in the past few months, so he welcomed the guest room’s luxurious, canopy bed with an unrefined flop. He lay there for a while, though he didn’t know how for long as he just stared at the window in front of him and thought.

Anakin suddenly heard a crash! noise coming from the living room. He quickly jumped into action and ran towards the sound. What if an intruder was trying to harm you? Anakin wouldn’t let them get near you. Though he would protect you, a pang of annoyance ran through Anakin’s head. How could anyone gain access to your apartment? He went through your security details with Gido and made sure that all access points were being guarded by either a security guard or a droid. Anakin hoped this wouldn’t become another Padme situation–he wasn’t in the mood for a high-speed speeder chase tonight. Better yet, why didn’t he sense anything? Were you distracting him so much that his senses were dull? Anakin couldn’t have that happening if you were both to survive the next ten rotations together.

As Anakin reached your living room and investigated the sound, he saw what object made the sound he heard. His eyes first laid sight on a broken flower vase. The turquoise vase was shattered into a million pieces on the floor. Anakin then looked at the figure next to the broken pottery and there you were, dressed in a dark robe, halfway to the entrance of your apartment. A look of shock, then brief fear and then embarrassment, went through your eyes when you saw Anakin standing before you with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Anakin questioned you with a glare. His voice had a deep edge to it. He was relieved that there was no intruder, but he wondered what you were doing. If he didn’t know any better, Anakin would say that it looked like you were in the middle of trying to leave your apartment. Except, Anakin did know better so he knew that was exactly what you were trying to do. The dark robes were a telltale sign of this–it disguised your figure and the hood covered a majority of your face.

You cleared your throat before putting on a tight-lipped smile, “Oh, I was just trying to night walk in the gardens before going to bed.”

“The gardens? I thought they were closed for renovations. That’s what Gido told me.” There was a slight smirk on Anakin’s face as he replied. He knew he had you.

“Not for me. I have special access…you know, the building manager is a fan of mine. Perks of being famous.” You felt slimy using that as an excuse, but it was better than letting the Jedi know your true intentions.

“Really?” Anakin admired you for doubling down on your lie, but once again, he could sense your energy through the force. You were hesitant, like you weren’t fully convinced of what you were saying either. Anakin continued, “Then why are you wearing such a thick robe? The weather has been warm lately, even at night. Don’t you think that you would sweat too much?”

You chuckled nervously before saying, “I sweat all the time.” You quickly shook your head. Kriff that’s not what I meant! you cursed in your head. “I mean I’m used to sweating during practice and performances so it does not bother me too much. I felt chilly which is why I decided to wear my robe on my walk. Please excuse me for disturbing you, General. I must have been in such a rush that I accidentally knocked over this vase. I assure you that I did not intend to raise any alarm.”

“It looks like you were sneaking out to me. Is that why you feel so tense right now? You know, we Jedi can sense emotion. I can sense that you’re not being truthful. There’s no lying to me, pop star.” Anakin replied smoothly.

You shook your head. It looks like your plan of trying to put distance between you and Anakin wasn’t going to work after all. You should have known–how could you outsmart a Jedi? It was easy to sneak out with your regular security staff, but Anakin was different.

“I apologize. You’re right. I wasn’t going to take a walk in the gardens. I thought I could visit the night market on level 3204, the Alderaan district. I just needed to clear my head. I didn’t tell because I didn’t think there would be an issue since I was going to keep my identity hidden.” Anakin noted how your apology sounded genuine.

“Level 3204. Isn’t that a bit far from you? I never suspected that you would stray anywhere past the 5000th level,” said Anakin. When people on Coruscant managed to achieve enough wealth to live on the 5000th level of Coruscant, it was very rare that they ventured anywhere below. The only people that ventured below were those dealing in shady business. That’s not to say that the 3000th level was necessarily bad–he knew that the lower levels were a mixture of the classes ranging from middle-class families to criminals. Anakin had been to almost all the levels of Corscant while on Jedi business. He had seen the most impoverished slums, where crime was rampant and everyone fended for themselves. Yet, he had also seen the richest that Coruscant had to offer–elegant restaurants, opulent theaters, and people dressed in the most expensive fabrics. It always amazed Anakin how in the capital city of the Republic, one of the richest planets in the galaxy, could house such a dichotomy.

You took offense to Anakin’s words. What did he know about you? Sure, you were wealthy and privileged, but that didn’t mean you had to confine yourself to a small circle of society. You enjoyed visiting what Coruscant had to offer–the different cultures, species, etc. It may have been unconventional for someone of your status, but your parents raised you with humility. Anything you earned in this life could be taken away from you at any moment, so you tried your best to explore and enjoy everything while you still could.

Now you weren’t thinking about this annoyingly handsome face or soft curls. You were thinking about how he pissed you off. Just another person making assumptions about who I am. Your eyes narrowed before dignifying Anakin with a response, “And where is it that I belong? Please enlighten me. What? Do you think just because I am rich, I wouldn’t dare mingle with anyone in a lower class than me?”

“That’s not how I intended my words to come across.”

“How did you mean for your words to come across?” Anakin felt your energy shift. You were no longer hesitant or nervous.

“What I mean is that it is unorthodox for celebrities to venture anywhere below Coruscant’s surface. It’s not exactly the most celebrity-friendly place. I would know as I’ve to the 3000th level several times before,” Anakin explained.

“Well, I’m an unorthodox person then. I’ll let you know that I enjoy the night market in the Alderaan district, it has good food and honest people. Now, you can either accompany me or stay here and make more assumptions about me. Whatever you choose, I will still be attending the night market. Feel free to tell Gido.” You turned around and continued walking toward your front door before you were stopped by Anakin.

“Kriff. You’re not going to make this easy, huh? Fine. I’m going with you to the market because it’s my duty to protect you, but don’t try anything.”

You first discovered this night market in Coruscant’s Alderaan district only a few months into your arrival on the planet. Your fame had not skyrocketed yet, so you could easily travel between Coruscant’s levels without being chased by HoloNet reporters or crazy fans. You stumbled upon the market one night while lost on level 3204. It was a serendipitous moment for you. The night market operated every night and was primarily inhabited by Alderaanian expats, however, there were a few stalls run by species from exotic planets who sold even more exotic goods and foods. At the time you discovered it, you were feeling homesick and lonely. Your home planet of Bar’leth was nothing like Coruscant. Though Bar’leth had some metropolitan cities, it also had greenery and fauna. And the population wasn’t nearly as dense as Coruscant! You grew up in Bar’leth’s capital city, but you could still name your neighbors and there was a sense of community. Coruscant had none of these features. The night market was more than just a market, it reminded you of a tiny piece of home in the most bustling place in all of the galaxy.

The familiar smell of grilled bantha skewers and roasted pormork flooded your senses. The area was decorated with a mixture of bright, fluorescent neon lighting and the warm, cozy light from twinkle lights from the vendor’s stalls. Light music played in the background from a live band playing in a corner somewhere. Though the market was mainly filled with adults, the occasional child and their family were seen. You and Anakin walked at a comfortable place in the middle of the road. Neither of you was talking, just observing the scene around you. You observed how people interacted with each other and made up life stories for them in your head. Anakin observed for any potential danger.

“I’m sorry for snapping on you earlier. I hate when people make assumptions about who I am. It’s a sensitive spot for me. You know, with my name always in the tabloids,” it was you who decided to speak first.

Anakin listened before responding, “Maybe I was wrong to make those assumptions about you.” He still thought it was odd that you wanted to venture so below the surface, but if there was one thing that Anakin understood, it was your disdain for assumptions. As the Chosen One, everyone made assumptions about Anakin—assumptions he should act or think. And somehow, Anakin always failed to live up to people’s assumptions of him. There were very few people in his life who accepted him the way he was. This was another point of contention in his life.

Instead of letting this event take place in a silent awkwardness like dinner, you decided to make an effort to keep the conversation going. Anakin didn’t directly apologize, but you took his words to be a positive sign. “I know it must be a shock to you that I wanted to visit this market. And you were partially right to judge, who would suspect that I stray far from my life on the surface? The truth is, no one would expect that from me which is exactly why I do what I do. Not even Gido knows that I come down here.”

“What makes this specific place worth sneaking out for? Aren’t there any other places you would rather be than down here?” Anakin asked this question sincerely. He was curious about you. While he was no stranger to Coruscant’s rich elite, the people he met were confined the the political sector. He knew how politicians acted and their thought processes, but he knew nothing about the other type of elite—the celebrities, like you.

“It reminds me of home, and the simple days I used to live before the glitz and glamour. There was a farmer’s market on Bar’leth I frequented with my family. There was local produce, lots of gourmet food, and trinkets of all kinds. I stumbled upon this market by happenstance one day and I never stopped visiting it ever since,” you explain truthfully. You loved the life you lived now and you were extremely grateful for it. But nothing could compare to your old life when you could enjoy the simple pleasures of life without any care in the world. Nowadays life barely gives you a chance to breathe since you were always working on something–whether it is new music, media appearances, or special performances. “You know, you’re actually the first person I have told about this place. You better keep it a secret, or else.” Anakin could tell you were joking by the smile on your face. He returned your joke with a small smile of his own.

You continued the conversation by asking Anakin a question of his own, “Don’t you have a special place that you like to visit when life gets too hectic?”

Anakin’s automatic response was to give you a generic answer. Before he could give you that generic answer, he changed his mind. He knew that was too guarded, but he couldn’t help himself. Anakin had been hurt too many times now–hurt by life, by his actions, and by the actions of others. Opening up was a recipe for disaster, especially when Anakin knew how passionately he felt about almost everything in his life. The only person Anakin managed to completely open up to was Padme, but even she was off-put sometimes by the level of passion and truthfulness he displayed. She never verbally admitted it, but Anakin could tell. Though you two didn’t know each other very well and have had minimal conversation so far, something about your energy invited Anakin to open up. Your energy in the force was serene. However, it wasn’t the type of serenity that Anakin felt whenever he was at the Temple. At the Temple, it was so peaceful, it was almost like it was devoid of any energy–it perfectly balanced all the energies of all the Jedi order and created a feeling of equilibrium. Your energy was serene in a way that reminded Anakin of his mother–comforting and warm. He could feel it radiating off your person. Ever since Anakin left with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, he could never sense that same energy in anyone else. Not even Padme, whose energy was more dynamic and loud. Thus, Anakin decided to be honest with his answer.

“There is a place that I like to escape to sometimes. It is located in a secluded corner of the Jedi temple and only accessible through the garden wing. I used to go there all the time as a Youngling and then a Padawan. It has the best view of Coruscant since it faces the intersection where the old Republic Theater house and Senate offices meet. On clear days, you can watch the sunset from there.” Anakin didn’t know that the Senate offices were in that direction until a few years after he moved to Coruscant. Once he found out Padme had stepped down as queen and became Naboo’s senator, he would stare at that intersection as a way to feel closer to Padme during their years apart. Despite the breakup, the spot still comforted Anakin because it served as a reminder of how far he had come. He was no longer a lovesick fool and rambunctious Padawan, but a mature and fully-fledged Jedi Knight. Through the transitional nature of life, that spot would always be there for Anakin.

It was your turn to nod and listen to Anakin.

“How was it like…growing up in the Temple?,” you hesitated, not wanting to overstep any boundaries with Anakin. You remember how the tone of his voice earlier when you questioned him about Tatooine.

“Growing up in the temple was…different. When I first arrived, I didn’t realize I would be living in a religious organization. There’s a lot about the Jedi that was very different from the life I lived on Tatooine. Though I can’t complain too much, I had a permanent roof over my head and food on my plate every day. And, there was practically no sand at all. The best part,” Anakin finished.

“I imagine it’s like one big family, no?”

Anakin sucked his teeth in response before continuing, “Since I arrived at the Temple later than the normal age, I didn’t grow up with my crèche. We had lessons together every now and then, but if there was anybody I considered like family to be in the Temple, it would be my former master Obi-Wan, and my Padawan Ashoka. She’s actually a�� fan—I promised her I would try to get an autograph.” Anakin looked sheepish at the mention of the autograph.

“Remind me before you leave. I’ll make sure to sign something. Should I sign her lightsaber?” You made sure to make a serious face while looking at Anakin. Then, you let out a giggle. “I’m only kidding about the last part. Come on, let’s get something sweet.” Your pace picked up before leading Anakin in another direction.

You stopped by a stall owned by an older Twi’lek lady who sold homemade rishi honeystix. The honeystix quickly became your favorite item at the market because of its’ sweet flavor and crispy batter. They were similar to a childhood favorite snack of yours, except the rishi honeystix was fried, not baked.

“Can I have two honeystix please?” you asked the owner. She nodded yes before you handed her over the credits, adding some extra for a tip. The owner quickly prepared the dessert before handing it to you and sending a warm smile to both.

“Enjoy the sweet treat! I love seeing young couples like you visit the market,” she stated with a look of adoration on her face.

You and Anakin straightened your postures and sent a sheepish smile to the owner.

“Oh, we’re not-” “She’s not my-” You both said at the same time.

The owner giggled out an apology before turning her back on the both of you and preoccupied herself with preparing more food.

Her comment affected you more than you would have liked to admit. You couldn’t say you wished you were dating Anakin, you hard knew him after all. But the idea of someone mistaking you to be in a relationship with someone as attractive as Anakin made you feel a funny feeling. You felt a moment of giddy before telling yourself to calm down.

You led Anakin toward an old fountain that sat in the middle of the market. “Ever tried these before? They’re the best! I don’t come here too often anymore, but whenever I do, I make an effort to buy these.” You then handed Anakin his dessert.

“I don’t think I have had these before. The Jedi diet consists of the Temple’s cantina food and whatever rations we have for off-world assignments. Though I try to explore new foods when I have the chance,” Anakin stated. He picked up the dessert and observed it. Anakin didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he was intrigued by its flavor. A sweet aroma wafted off the dessert and even Anakin felt tempted to try it.

You were looking toward the distance as Anakin inspected the dessert. You were about to take a bit of your honeystix when you made eye contact with a small figure in the distance. As your eyes focused on the figure, you realized you were looking at a young Rodian child. Their gaze shifted from your eyes to the dessert in hand. Despite the Alderaanian district being one of the more wealthy districts in the lower levels, many families still lived in borderline poverty. You smiled at the child in reassurance before getting up from the fountain and slowly making your way towards them.

Anakin looked up at the sound of your figure getting up and was about to ask you where you were going before he saw you walk to a child and kneel before them. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he saw you hand over your honeystix to the child. You hugged the child goodbye, but not before handing them a few extra credits. The child’s purple eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on their face. They gave you another hug before retreating to wherever they came from.

You got back up from the ground and walked back toward the fountain without saying anything to Anakin. You continued like nothing happened and asked Anakin, “Did you enjoy it?”

He ignored your question. “What was that about?” He was referring to the instance in which you gave away your dessert to a child.

“I saw the little one looking at my food, so I decided to go over there and offer it to them. I could tell she was hungry. It’s alright, I can always buy myself another.”

Anakin always believed that you could tell a lot about a society or individuals based on the way they treated children. He hated Tatooine and regarded it as one of the lowest civilized planets in the entire galaxy–for many reasons, of course, but the primary reason is that those on Tatooine had no issue trafficking children into slavery and treating them as chattel. He wished that more people displayed kindness toward him as a child. Anakin’s only crime was being born into the world, but aside from that, he was innocent and deserved to be treated with dignity and humanity. You were kind. It seemed like a bare minimum requirement to be astonished at, but with the type of people Anakin has had the displeasure of meeting, kindness was a trait he rarely witnessed outside of the Temple walls.

You stared at Anakin as if you were waiting for him to say something, but he simply observed your face without saying anything. A timid look washed over your face before you turned your head to the side and blew a piece of hair out of your face.

“Well, I think it’s time we head back.”

Being with Anakin was different than you expected. At first, you were overwhelmed by his presence–caught off guard by the fact he looked like a literal god from one of those classical paintings located in one of Corucant’s largest art galleries. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys. Plus, you also had a penchant for romanticizing almost every interaction and person in your life. Not always in the romantic sense though. From brief strangers to friends, you tried to put a positive spin on everyone you encountered. There was no way of telling if fate was real, but you liked to believe so. Anakin was no exception to these rules.

You were so close to successfully sneaking out of your apartment, without being detected, until you accidentally bumped into that stupid vase. Anakin came running out while you scrambled to make it look like you hadn’t been caught in the middle of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. You knew that if Anakin found out that you were leaving the building, he would either force you to say or contact your manager. So, you lied and tried to convince him you weren’t sneaking out. Of course, he saw through you and you gave up without a fight, until he made that stupid comment. Lying was never your strong suit anyway and it wasn’t worth the hassle anyway. So, Anakin joined you on your night adventure.

Though you were initially anxious, once to got to the market, you felt your head clear. This was your comfort place, and it soothed your racing heart and clouded mind. Once you were past that anxiousness, you found that Anakin had a calming presence, once you got over your initial nerves. Anakin was observational, though it was expected of him to be so. However, it felt like he was really listening to you and clinging to what you said. He looked pensive as you described why you liked the night market so much. You wanted to make conversation with him, you didn’t feel forced to. Maybe it was the nature of the predicament you were both and the fact that he would be your bodyguard for the next week and a half, but you felt drawn to him. You wanted to know more about who the “Hero with No Fear.” You feared that if you got to know him anymore, then you might fall for him. Except, you had to stop yourself before it went any deeper than that. Once again, you reminded yourself that Anakin was a Jedi. Off-limits. So, as you settled into bed, you promised that you would actually keep your distance. There was no use in getting attached to him. The Jedi belonged to no one.

taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader it wasn't letting me tag u ):

#kendra's works !!!#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom #sw fanfic #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #tcw anakin #anakin x y/n #the clone wars #darth vader #darth vader x reader #hayden christensen

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too-damn-joji · 3 months ago

Text

In Your Dreams

Welcome to my first ever fanfic!

Theme: Y/N x Han. After having a random and intense dream about Han Jisung, someone you see at work every day, you're unable to look him in the eye. Noticing, he keeps pressing you for details on why you're blushing every time you two talk.

Contains: Fluff, the beginning of something, build up, small mention of sexual content. Next chapter will probably contain actual sexual content.

Word count: Around 1100

Normally, if you weren't having some kind of nightmare, your dreams were just made up of things you'd seen that week jumbled with the typical fantastical nonsense everyone dreams about. But this morning - when you needed to be focused and professional for the day - you were woken up mid-climax while dreaming about Han Jisung underneath you.

You'd become friends over the last few months of working together, and knowing that you were going to be colleagues for a while longer, you'd been careful not to spend much time thinking about how cute he was.

That had been becoming harder lately. His hair had grown out to a frustratingly attractive length...

Today, you were heading to a camp ground location for a new SKZ episode. As a creative brand lead, going on shoots was the most fun part of your role.

Most recently, your job had taken you to South Korea, and though you always planned to keep on travelling country to country, you've been here now for over half a year. Working with idols was a huge step up career-wise, but that wasn't exactly the only reason you were staying so long.

By the time you're on location helping to mock up the sets, overlooking the scripts and member's missions, getting things looking 'Stray Kids', Han had come over to chat a handful of times already. You couldn't help but be kind of standoff-ish and you were sure he'd noticed.

Now, with filming kicking off soon, he was heading back over, freshly dressed and made up, looking too good.

"Y/Nnnie, I gotta know what today's missions are! One hint." He pouted sarcastically.

You couldn't help but smile back, "No. They're easy anyway, you'll be fine."

"One hint. One hint and I'll buy you lunch."

"Wow, we've got a big spender today!" You joke. "Lunch is free on shoots." While the two of you are joking around, you're unable to meet his eyes properly, images from the dream flashing into your mind's eye. It feels like if you make eye contact, he'll be able to see them too. Your cheeks go red.

He notices. Dammit, he notices. "What?" He leans down, trying to catch your eye, "What is it?"

Your stomach twists; this is a workplace and he is a work friend, not to mention famous and way out of your league, act normal. You give in to get him to leave, "Fine one hint; don't pick a red card, try to grab a blue one, the blue mission is way better." You attempt a normal smile and brief eye contact. Totally nonchalant. Completely relaxed.

He continues to look at you for a beat before he responds, assessing, "You've never given in before! I'm not complaining but, you okay?"

"Yeah, of course. See you later for my super expensive lunch." You pat his arm and go to join the rest of the staff. That brief bit of physical contact will be the only touch you two have - and that's definitely enough. Or it'll have to be.

The first half of the shoot goes well, Han snags a blue mission card and manages to sneak you a wink. Some of the morning's highlights include Seungmin sabotaging Changbin's mission, Lee Know threatening the lives of two other members, Chan getting way too into his role and Hyunjin finding a place to lay flat on his back and nap mid-mission.

Han finds you on the break. "You're so lucky this episode doesn't involve us cooking, I'm pretty sure that's almost the opposite of buying you lunch."

"You guys aren't that bad at cooking, just... don't offer me whatever it was you made last time ever again." You're about to make an excuse about needing to work through the break instead of joining him when he pulls you by the elbow to the food truck.

"Let's go, we've gotta beat everyone else to the good stuff."

Now, food in hand, he picks a spot to eat a little ways away from everyone else and sits down next to you. Before taking a bite, he asks, "So what's up? You've been a bit... weird? today."

You're painfully aware that your hips and thighs are touching as you glance up, feigning surprise. Somehow, you've managed to make a living off content marketing despite a genuine inability to lie. "I'm sorry. It's nothing, really. Just ignore me."

He bumps against you playfully. "I could never ignore you, y/nnie. Is something wrong?" He takes a big bite and looks at you with wide eyes, and the image of him being so earnest while stuffing his face makes you giggle. "What?" He asks, eyes going wider.

You sigh, deciding on a half truth and say, "I just had some weird dreams last night and they've been on mind all day. I'll forget about it soon enough and be back to normal."

He covers his mouth, still chewing, as he says, "Oh no! Like nightmares? Wait, you told me once that you get bad nightmares sometimes, you okay?"

You take a bite of your own lunch before answering. "Nah. More like the opposite of a nightmare, though last week I had this one nightmare where JYP was 10 foot tall and if you messed up a dance routine he'd come and control you like a puppet til you got it right."

Han laughs out loud, making you smile just to see him happy. "If JYP was a giant puppeteer I would be in so much trouble."

You guys fall into your natural rhythm and chat about nothing in particular while you finish eating, then stand up ready to get back to work.

Before you go though, he grabs your arm again, looks at you with a confused frown. "Wait, you said the dream was the opposite of a nightmare? How does a good dream make you act weird all morning?"

This time, your blush isn't just on your cheeks, it's your whole face and even your neck. Han looks at you strangely, like he's putting two-and-two together and your expression goes from embarrassed to horrified. Thankfully, he's called away by Chan, who's loudly yelling at him that it's time to start. He gives your arm a squeeze and heads back to set.

This is so not professional. Or how friends should act. You swallow thickly and go grab some water to cool off. You'll think of a funny excuse of a dream before you two chat again and then he'll never feel like his colleague was hinting at something sexual.

An hour later, you get a message from Han. You look up to see him sneakily using his phone while Felix and I.N. are doing their piece to camera.

Hannie: "You're right, free lunch on a shoot doesn't count. Let me take you out tomorrow for a real one?"

When you look back up, he's glancing in your direction and this time he's blushing. You write back, telling him that sounds great.

It's lunch between friends, right? He's probably going to bring one of the other members or staff. Your stomach being full of butterflies right now while your mind vividly replays last night's dream is just your own personal problem.

You focus on the shoot for the rest of the afternoon, trying to ignore how much you want to check your phone for another message from Han.

#han #han jisung #skz #stray kids #stay #skz x reader #skz x y/n #han x y/n

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overgrown3d · 1 year ago

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What do you need to hear right now?

✨How to select your pile?✨

1. Slow your breathing, taking deep inhales. Focus on feeling present in your environment.

2. Looking from left to right, use your intuition to pick the pile meant for you (what you connect most with.)

3. Doesn't resonate? No worries! Pick another, it's message may be just right for you.

• • •

pile 1 -> pile 2

-> Pile 3

Pile 1 ;

Cards: 6 of Swords, Queen of Wands, 2 of Wands, Knight of Wands, The Tower (base)

"You have the strength to move forward, Keep going!"

The biggest obstacle in your life right now may be your thoughts. Perhaps you have tried to change or improve certain aspects in your life, particularly the actions you perform to meet your goals, and feel burdened with insecurity as you face hardships and deal with your circumstances. Maybe you've tried to change your life in the past but got disheartened, believing you weren't capable of overcoming your struggles. It seems that you've nurtured an idea, business, relationship, habit, or any action that isn't serving you anymore now that you've grown outside of it. Like building a foundation on unsafe lands, only after an event happens do you realize that it is time to bring about change for your own sake, and rebuild your life on stronger soil. Realizing this may cause a great deal of pain for you, but this change will be fruitful in the end.

~~~~🍃

There is indecision in what next step you should take, but know that you've overcome the greatest leap of all: The first step. You absolutely do have courage to shake off the shackles of your past, whatever they may be. What's next in store for you is a lot of action, but this time with the right decisions and choices.

We all have different circumstances in life, what we need to do is make the best out of it, with whatever we've got. 💚

~~~~🍃

Pile 2 ;

Cards: 10 of Swords, The Emperor, Justice, 3 of swords, 7 of swords, Ace of Wands & The Fool (base)

"You must look like a fool before becoming the master."

Get to work, baby! The message you need to hear right now is get into action! You've got the m-fing chances to be successful! This signals massive career change or great profits. You may have healed or are in the process of healing from a catastrophic event, leaning into a lot of internal questioning, perhaps overcoming grief or loss. You may be exploring different careers you can pursue, or areas of study. You got to take action despite your hesitance to new beginnings, and there will be a great need for discipline, learning new techniques, acquiring skills to master your area in interest. Most likely you will need to sacrifice your hedonist tendencies, maybe even a person that is unbelieving in you, and whatever else is holding you back. I'm hearing "necessary sacrifice". I'm getting the vibe that this could be a business, freelance work, maybe a very demanding job that you considered doing. Delve into uncharted territories and keep reconsidering your career path if you question it being right for you. Your strength relies greatly on your ability to start, now you just need to GO! GO!GO!

~~~~🍃

Pile 3 ;

Cards : 10 of wands, Knight of Pentacles, The Star, Knight of Cups, Ace of Swords (rev)

"You are your biggest investment"

Focus on yourself more, man! It's likely that you're burdened with too many tasks and responsibilities, possibly some from a partnership? Get more in touch with your emotions, your relationships, with yourself, dammit!!! I'm getting massive workaholic vibes here, and that applies to all forms of labor btw! Give yourself a break, you deserve it so much. Neglect your logical, ultra-efficient side for now, because I guarantee that getting a break from your responsibilities (Maybe you are the breadwinner, caretaker, student, or an ambitious person trying to kickstart a business) will produce greater financial success/less financial burden. It's possible you're stressing too much about money, but to you, that stress is reasonable. Let go of the thoughts that limit you to your area of work, and start exploring more of your identity and emotions. You will be able to make a lot of progress with this balance. 💚

~~🍃 You reached the end of the reading, 'till next time!

#tarot reading #tarotcommunity #pick a card #pac #tarotblr

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bengiyo · 6 months ago

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Don't Care for an Old Man's Underwear! Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

As always, this watch was made possible by @isaksbestpillow

Last time, Kakeru revealed to Mika and Moe that he wants to go to a premier makeup school, and will finish high school to make sure he qualifies. He had a good conversation with Hasegawa after being asked if he was gay, revealing that he sometimes finds either men or women admirable in their own ways but as yet has not felt love. Hasegawa expressed his admiration for Kakeru for never playing along with boy talk that also makes him uncomfortable. Kakeru also managed to form a new friendship with his rival. Makoto is struggling at work to keep his misogynistic senior from pissing off everyone, and it seems like Haranishi suppressed him with his bra for now. Makoto also unfortunately thought Kakeru was seeing two people and put his foot in his mouth again trying to be supportive. However, he did help Daichi by reassuring him that Madoka choosing him is also a valid choice, even as we all worry about Madoka giving up on being a vet to dodge his family's disappointment. Not to be forgotten, Makoto insisted that Mika enjoy the tickets they got for her.

I like how much easier the friendship between Daichi and Makoto feels at this point. Saying they help each other feels genuine.

Oh no. Is Daichi avoiding Madoka?

Looking forward to seeing more rude men at Makoto's job!

I love that Daichi doesn't lie to Kakeru about reaching out at Makoto's request.

Kakeru admitting that he took out his frustrations on his parents feels like an important step for him.

Oh no. Daichi is pulling back from Madoka, and now he's going to think Daichi is trying to get with Kakeru because Kakeru is so cute.

Hold on, I'm suddenly invested in Furuike trying to use the contacts he's built up across his career in a digital age that cuts down on human interactions.

Ah, Furuike knows the engineer who designed the copier and is trying to protect his reputation. He's also got little left in his life besides his idea of work and the efforts they made before, so he's trying to validate that their way of doing things wasn't completely wrong. Look at this show giving this unpleasant man recognizable humanity.

Okay, I was touched by the two old guys solving a problem together.

Also feels significant that Kakeru wanted to wait to talk to Makoto.

Aw, they get to bond over having similar troubles navigating human interactions.

"I respect your grit and perseverance. In order for them not to go to waste, would you please change with me?" is basically the plea the show is making to the masculine audience.

Not me crying because this old man made tea.

Kakeru teasing about never hearing his dad complain before also feels like a moment. I wonder if we'll return to Kakeru's comment about not being an adult.

Why do both Okita men blush the same way? Lol

For saying he stumbles constantly, Makoto recognized that Kakeru didn't tell him what he really wanted from that booth.

Oh, Kakeru. Once again this show hitting queer notes left behind in romance all the time. It's easy to resent people for not being able to understand you, but that's just hiding the loneliness and disappointment you feel at not being able to connect with them, too. Kakeru admitting that he's feeling sad that he can't be the son he wanted because his father is actively trying to be a father Kakeru can love and respect got me.

As always, Daichi doesn't tell Kakeru what to think, and reaffirms that Kakeru always has a choice in how to engage with the world.

Dammit, they got me again. Madoka explaining to Makoto how hard it is to tell your parents important things about yourself because of the huge stakes, and then trying to accept being dumped, is making my chest clench.

Oh, Makoto, finally your over sharing tendencies pay off.

Wow, this man is so tall that he could see Daichi over the crowd.

Ugly crying about Kakeru and Makoto talking out the baseball thing at the festival, and then Kakeru asking his dad to teach him how to use the pop gun to get what he wants for himself.

He let his dad put the necklace on him!

Daichi and Madoka are holding hands in public!

Well well well, Kakeru still has to face the boys on the baseball team.

This has quickly become one of my favorite shows of all time. She wasn't in this episode a lot, but Mika continues to be one of my favorites because of her instincts. She could tell that Kakeru wanted to face Makoto properly, so she makes sure to check in with him first before hovering to see that they're okay. She then later insists on sending Makoto to the festival in a yukata with Kakeru because she knows they need to do that together. If she doesn't insist on Makoto going and dressing up, he doesn't have that conversation with Madoka, and he doesn't make progress with Kakeru at the booth. She helped four men with her kindness and determination, and enabled her daughter to support her brother while also receiving validation about her hobby from her dad.

Makoto has come so far. I really loved him supporting his senior through the resolution of that work problem, and still telling him that his attitude was wrong. I also liked that he also got corrected by Shimura afterwards, who insists that he use respectful honorifics for her. He's finally earned the confidence of his team by being the leader they need him to be.

This show is excellent, and I've not cried this much watching a show in a long time.

#Ben watches #ossan no pantsu ga nandatte ii janai ka #oppan #don't care for an old man's underwear #japanese drama #jdrama

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howlingday · 1 year ago

Text

BELLADINA VS ARC

Penny: (Snoring in bed)

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

Blake: (Shaking Saphron's hand) It's good to meet you~!

Saphron: (Shaking Blake's hand) You too~!

Blake: (Thinking) Is she a threat to my family? I'll find out everything tonight!.

Saphron: (Thinking) Is my brother in danger? I'll determine that tonight!.

Blake: If you don't mind a simple meal, I can make you something to eat quickly!

Saphron: No. You don't need to.

Saphron: As if I'd ever eat anything you make.

Jaune: Saph, please! You don't need to be so mean!

Saphron: I-I'm not being mean!

Saphron: Dammit! I'm letting my emotions get the better of me! Rrgh, that creep's interrogation earlier is getting me all worked up!. I'll need to be careful so I can keep playing as the loving sister at the embassy!.

Jaune: (Thinking) I need to be careful so I can keep playing the loving househusband I need to be! My career as a contract assassin depends on me pretending to be Blake's husband!.

Jaune: Thank you for the lovely flowers, Saph.

Saphron: You're welcome but let me be absolutely clear when I say this. I do not recognize this marriage. You've been married a whole year without telling me! If you want me to give my blessing, you better have a damn good explanation!

Blake: That's a fair request. You asked me to put my faith in you, Jaune, so that's what I'm going to-

Jaune: I... I FORGOT.

Saphron: You... You're saying the reason you haven't told me for more than a year is because...

Jaune: I forgot! Yes!

Saphron: Then what about a few weeks ago, when you said you were taking someone to the party? Why didn't you tell me then?

Jaune: Oh, uh, w-well... I FORGOT THAT I FORGOT TO TELL YOU.

Blake: ...

Jaune: ...

Saphron: ...

Saphron: Well, if that's what happened, I can't really argue with you, can I?

Blake: SHE BOUGHT THAT?!.

Saphron: I swear, you can be so scatter-brained, Jaune!

Jaune: I'm sorry!

Blake: Is... Is this normal for the Arc family?

Blake: Dinner is served.

Saphron: Way to interrupt my conversation, jerk. But I can't say that. I'll just have to keep on a smiling face, even when I choke down her awful... Her awful...

Jaune: W-Whoa, Saph! I know Blake's cooking is good, but you don't have to wolf it down like that!

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

Jaune: And then, after a couple dinner, we decided to get married.

Saphron: Where did you have dinner? How often? What did you eat each time? What restaurants and at what point did these immoral rendezvous become an official relationship? What's the real reason you two got married?

Blake: Why does it feel like I'm being interrogated?.

Saphron: What do you two call each other when you're alone?

Blake: Uh... Jaune?

Saphron: JAUNE?! BUT THAT'S WHAT I CALL HIM!. THAT'S OUR THING!.

Saphron: A-And what do you call he, Jaune?! Bee?! Blakey-Boo?!

Jaune: Wh-What?! Er, well...

Saphron: IT'S BLAKEY-BOO, ISN'T IT?! (Slamming down wine)

Jaune: N-No! It's just Blake! Saph, maybe you've had enough to drink...

Blake: Here, I brought some water.

Saphron: Grr! (Chugs more wine)

Blake: I need to divert! Divert!.

Blake: So, uh, Jaune tells me you work at the embassy. That's pretty fancy work, isn't it?

Jaune: Yeah! Pyrrha said you were in Little Menagerie recently!

Saphron: Yeah, but it was just for work. But it's such a beautiful city, I wish I could take you one day.

Blake: ...Little Menagerie, right? Off the south coast of Mistral? I remember studying abroad there when I was a student. I remember eating at some wonderful restaurants there.

Saphron: Oh, well, the next time you go, you should try a little cafe there called "The Orange". It's run by this sweet old woman who makes a delicious stew.

Blake: Oh, I think I've eaten there, too! Is that wine also from Little Menagerie?

Blake: "Yes, that wine...".

Saphron: Yeah, that wine...

Blake: "I bought from this shop on Taurus Street.".

Saphron: I bought from this shop on Taurus Street.

Blake: I hope it wasn't too expensive.

Blake: Let me guess... "200 Lien".

Saphron: Well, it's a little pricey, but I think it's a good deal to get quality wine for 200 Lien.

Blake: I knew it.

Blake: Well, I'm glad you were willing to share it with us.

Blake: I thought this conversation sounded familiar. This is the exact same dialogue from the Atlesian Ace Operatives hand-book. It's used as a way to set up a dialogue about traveling abroad to fictional locations. The Orange was renamed The Tangerine after the old woman retired from back problems and put her son in charge. And that bottle of wine comes from a winery that's in the middle of a drought streak, so it's actually 300 Lien. Everything she's said has been a lie, and if she has access to the Ace-Ops hand-book, then her job at the embassy isn't something low-level. Saphron Arc, if that is her real name, is a high-ranking officer for Atlas.

Jaune: See, Saph? Blake's such a nice sister-in-law, isn't she-

Saphron: (Slams her hand on the table) I... already told you... I DON'T RECOGNIZE THIS MARRIAGE.

Jaune: S-Saph! Don't be rude!

Saphron: You're right about one thing, Blake; it is a pricey bottle, but I can afford it, because I have a wonderful brother who inspired me to work hard for my career! I still remember a time I was too sick to work, and my brother would come home covered in blood just to give me my favorite meals. So I could have my medicine to stand on my own two feet today. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep my baby brother safe. Can you say the same, Blake Belladina? Huh, Blakey-Boo?!

Blake: ...I love your brother with all my heart. I care about her just as much as you do, and our daughter loves her, too. She's an important member of the Belladina family. And I don't care if it's knives or bullets or a high-yield bomb, I WILL protect Jaune from any harm!

Saphron: ...

Saphron: I... I could protect him from knives and bullets, but a high-yield bomb?! I... I couldn't do that... Could I?.

Saphron: ...Prove it.

Jaune: Huh?

Saphron: Kiss my brother right now and prove that your love is real.

Blake: If that's what it'll take to prove it to you, then fine. Jaune, let's kiss each other, just like we do every day.

Jaune: HUH?!

Blake: (Leans in) Shall we?

Jaune: W-WAIT! (Grabs bottle, Chugs what's left) Awright... Lez do thiz...

Blake: (Whispering) Hey, if you don't want to...

Jaune: (Whispering) Nono, this iz my famly too...

Saphron: Hey! Why are you both whispering?! If you aren't a real couple, then stop embarrassing yourselves and- (Shink!)

Jaune: (Barely missed her head) Sh-Shaddup, Saph! Imma show you the depths of our love! (Leans into Jaune) Close your eyes, darling... I'm coming in...

Saphron: Y-YOU'RE ACTING SO LEWD!

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

Saphron: Jaune, you should be out there making some other girl happy, not your stuck-in-bed-all-day sister.

Jaune: It's okay, Saph! I don't mind it. Besides, even if you're the only girl I make happy, then that's enough for me.

Saphron: Oh? Was that a marriage proposal?

Jaune: Hee hee! Maybe! If you need me to, I'll take care of you the rest of my life!

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

Saphron: WAIT! NO! I STILL NEED YOU TO TAKE CARE OF-

Jaune: I CAN'T DO IT! IT'S SO EMBARRASSING! (Swings fist out)

Saphron: (Cracked in the face by Jaune, Slams into the wall)

Blake: (Slack-jawed, Watching this all happen)

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

Penny: (Sits up) AGH! A... A bomb?

Penny: ...

Penny: Zzz...

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

Saphron: (Sniffles) I... I get it now... You were so passionate to smear your lips all over this creep's face...

Blake: L-Listen, you're drunk and you're bleeding... Maybe you should-

Saphron: For now, Blake Belladina, my brother's lips are all yours.

Jaune: (Punches) SAPH, STOP!

Saphron: I've let you win this round, Blake Belladina...

Jaune: S-Saph, you're swaying!

Blake: You're both swaying... Are Arcs just naturally light-weight drinkers?.

Jaune: Should I call Terra and have her come pick you up?

Saphron: Please don't drag my wife into this...

Blake: (Smiles, Holds them both)

Saphron: What are you smiling about? Are you enjoying my misery?

Blake: No, not at all. I'm just enjoying the love only two siblings who took good care of each other can share. We should work together to give Jaune the happy life he deserves.

Saphron: ...Don't touch me! (Pushes away) I'll find some way you tricked my brother into marrying you! And if I find out you made him shed a single tear, I'LL HAVE YOU EXEC- I-I mean, I'll... JUST REMEMBER THAT! (Runs away)

Jaune: Be safe on your way home!

Blake: Was she about to say, "She'll have me executed"?.

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Penny: G'morging...

Jaune: Good morning, Penny! I'm sorry you missed Saph last night.

Penny: Saph... Who's Saph?

Jaune: Huh? But I thought you were excited to meet her?

Blake: The way Jaune's sister acted was bad enough...

Penny: Oh! Auntie!

Blake: ...but finding out she's actually a member of the secret police just makes things all the more complicated.

Penny: (Thinking) Secret police?!.

Penny: ...What's that?.

SECRET + POLICE = EXCITING NEW THING!!!

Penny: (Sobbing) Why couldn't I see her?!

Blake: I... I didn't know she'd mean so much to you...

#rwby #spy x family #rwby au #jaune arc #blake belladonna #knightshade #penny polendina #saphron cotta arc #saphron arc

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zombubble · 6 months ago

Note

📓

(and I'd love some YOI of course!)

(In response to this post. Send me a 📓 and I'll tell you about a fic I have in mind.)

Oh you get a juicy, juicy fic from way back when. Affectionately called "Can't Touch This."

CW for angst and near-death experiences and uhh. Mild body horror? Sort of? Some people die but none of them are characters with names, nor are they very nice people to begin with.

It ends happily though, don't worry!

This fic is set in a vague fantasy magical setting that's supposed to resemble anything from like the late 1600s to the early 1800s. Because y'know, who needs historical accuracy in a world like this?

Childhood friends of sorts. They were school friends, and Viktor was a star student, advanced magic user, on track for some prestigious position right out of school. Yuuri was brilliant but struggled with doing things in the exact ways prescribed. His understanding of his magic and how to use it just didn't fit into the technical education mold.

Viktor tutored him though, and helped him figure out how to make his magic at least work with what they wanted him to do (or look like it did).

They parted ways when Yuuri graduated. Viktor was starting a teaching career at the university, while Yuuri went back to work with his parents in Yu-Topia.

They have a pair of boxes they can use to transport letters to each other, and while Yuuri keeps writing... Viktor does not. They fall out of touch, and Yuuri settles back into things.

Fast forward some years.

Yuuri's been working with his parents for a while now, and taking on other odd jobs in town that other magic users a) say are impossible, b) are unwilling to do, or c) will charge exorbitant amounts of money for.

One day, they get a guest from the north. He's called down to help prepare the room and it turns out to be Viktor. Yuuri's happy to see him, albeit confused. Viktor's very standoffish but also very nice.

Viktor says he's on break from teaching--a sabbatical of sorts--and that he just needs to look for some books? See if there are other people around for him to talk to about "uh... magic."

(Yuuri's like "Dude I'm right fucking here" but he doesn't say so.)

Still nice, like he had been, Viktor avoids Yuuri like the plague. Won't spend too much time with him, and leaps away when they're even close to physical contact which, you know, sucks because Yuuri'd gotten used to the little touches and hugs and the way Viktor expressed himself.

One day, he finds Viktor being attacked and realizes why.

(Cut here because a) it's getting long and b) this is where the horrifying stuff is.)

Viktor is trying to avoid conflict, avoid a fight, but the mugger comes at him, makes physical contact with him and starts screaming. Yuuri watches as the man just... melts, starting with where he'd touched Viktor. Ends up a pile of ooze.

Viktor's shellshocked, asks again and again why the person touched him when he said not to--he said not to, dammit--and Yuuri is. More understanding of why Viktor's so skittish.

He gets Viktor home (without touching him) and sits him down, forcing him to tell Yuuri about what's going on.

It's a curse. He'd been cursed by a colleague, and so far nothing he's tried has been able to break it. Makka's not with him because she loves cuddles and if he touches her, she'll die and he's horrified at himself, at his circumstances, at the possibility of killing another person.

Yuuri says they'll figure it out. Bullies Viktor (affectionately) into letting Yuuri go with him while they find magic, books, and/or magic users that can help them sort this out.

While they travel, Yuuri goes into town, handles dealing with people. He does the cooking (they don't know what Viktor's touch will do to food), and Viktor takes care of setting up camp and whatnot. Tries to stay away from everyone, to ignore the worsening nightmares.

Tries to ignore, too, the way the curse is getting worse and worse over time.

He and Yuuri dance around each other, pining. Viktor's not willing to let himself even think of trying to rebuild anything until he's not a walking death trap. Yuuri's trying to be understanding about the distance and such, but it keeps getting to him until they fight. They make up, though, and feel a little better about things.

After a few weeks of travel they end up at Minako's and everything she does a) hurts like a bitch and b) fails to work.

(Yuuri sits outside the door, unable to help, his head in his hands as he listens to what sounds like torture.)

They decide they need to go back to the university. Minako will try to meet them there.

Lots of touch starvation, lots of pining while they travel. Winter is settling in and it's cold and they can't even take shelter in each others' arms.

One night their camp is raided and Yuuri is injured badly. Viktor has no weapon to hand and if he tries to find one, Yuuri's going to die so he just leaps at their attackers and touches each and every one of them.

Yuuri is unconscious. Viktor begs him not to die, tells him he's in love with him and is sorry he didn't tell him before and to stick around, dammit.

Somehow, he gets Yuuri back to Minako.

Once Yuuri's safely with her for treatment, Viktor leaves on his own and heads back to the University.

On the way back, he finds a cave he remembers, from when he and a small group were snowed in years and years ago. It was bad. Some people didn't make it and Viktor and the few who lived were found unconscious, but despite the memories, it's a solid shelter.

He finds, there, his letterbox that he'd lost. It's full to bursting with Yuuri's letters and he realizes how it must have felt, all these years with no response. He'd had no idea where to even start looking for it and meant to try and/or write the inn, but hadn't known where to send a letter for Yuuri if not just... through the box.

He cries. He resolves again to get this curse broken so maybe he can actually hold his best friend/the man he's in love with.

Once he's at the University, Viktor sneaks in and runs almost directly into Yura. After explaining, begging, and promising a few rewards, Yura agrees to help him break into his colleague's office.

They look through stuff until Lilia and Yakov find him, and both are unimpressed.

At Minako's, Yuuri wakes. He doesn't remember the confession beyond words in a dream-like state, and doesn't believe it was real. He's injured, still, but when he finds out Viktor went to the University, he's livid.

But he's still healing, and he can't leave Minako's yet.

At the University, Lilia is working with Viktor and given she knew Viktor's colleague and how he worked, and given she has Minako's notes, she makes better headway with it.

Yuuri heals enough to be escorted home after a month, and goes back to working with his parents. He mostly helps in the kitchen, now, as it's most compatible with the effects of his injuries.

Viktor keeps trying. Lilia's last-ditch solution is an attempt to literally reform Viktor's magic, cutting out the parts corrupted by the spell and taking the spell out. He could lose his magic or his life for the procedure, but the spell will kill him soon if he doesn't.

In a letter to Yuuri, he explains everything and the last Yuuri hears from him is that he loves him (because Viktor had to make sure he knows.)

Fast forward a while, maybe a month or two.

Yuuri's working at the inn still, sure that if Viktor died they'd have told him and that's what he's clinging to. His parents don't know everything, nor does Mari, but they try to support him however they can. He's angry sometimes. Depressed others.

One day he's working and someone runs in, saying a man got hit by a wagon? He's unconscious in the street and can they possibly bring him in here while the doctor comes?

Yuuri's family runs out to help, of course. Yuuri follows.

He sees Viktor unconscious on the floor a moment before he sees his mother reaching out her hand to touch him and as he screams for her not to, he sees that... she's okay.

Groggy, Viktor sits up, holds her arm as he does and Yuuri realizes the curse is broken. Viktor's free of it.

It cost him his magic, but... he's okay with that if it means he can be with Yuuri.

There's a lot of soft love, confessions, Viktor staying and living there (can't teach magic without magic, after all) with Makka at his side.

And they live happily ever after!!!

I hope you enjoyed uwu............

#responses #yoi #yuri on ice #yoi fic #my fic #sort of #it's a summary of one #at least #uwu ty for the ask!#angst #angst with a happy ending #touch starvation #magical curse #magic au #katsuki yuuri #viktor nikiforov #makkachin

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saint-starflicker · 7 months ago

Text

I was recommended a post about how part of getting older is realizing how absurd it is that basically every form of media is constantly trying to convince us that the most interesting moments of the lived human experience are happening in high school

and as a Dark Academia campus novel genre enjoyer, noticing the murders (or suicides) in high school versus university are skewing more 70/30 than 50/50 [citation needed]

yeah though

...dammit Jason McConnell you couldn't wait 3 months to irreparably ruin your own life with stage-musical tier grandeur?!?? get outta of that grave and into this fanfiction I'm sending you to college where you're going to have a REAL redemption arc instead of being that red sweater man saying "guess I'll die" meme

you're going to have a career and cohabitation with your partner in a 21st century economy. get in the car, loser

#Bare: a Pop Opera

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thelostgirl21 · 10 months ago

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A collection of unsent drafts that Radovid, Comma Prince, has written over the last 20+ years...

Dear Jaskier,

I think your music is phenomenal and filled with homoerotism...

I totally blame you for my sexual awakening...

Please do me?

---

Dear Jaskier,

Are you gay?

Would you like to be?

I could show you!

Gods, I'm hopeless...

---

Dear Jaskier,

Is it wrong to want to be stuck in the middle of a bard / Witcher sandwich?

---

Dear Jaskier,

Do you think one can fall in love with someone through their songs?

Because yours are filled with so much beauty, poetry, symbolism and inner truths, that I think you have one of the most beautiful, intriguing, and beguiling spirits I've ever seen...

Or heard...

Actually, indirectly heard since I've never had the pleasure of hearing your voice.

I mean, I've heard your voice through your songs - as in the things you wish to say through your lyrics! Just not "your voice" as in... Ah, the sound coming from the vibrations of your vocal cords?

Gods dammit!

---

Dear Jaskier,

Would you believe I've a master in the 7 liberal arts, too?

And in the art of being a gay disaster, apparently...

---

Dear Jaskier,

Penis.

---

Dear Jaskier,

I thought writing it down would take my mind off it.

Spoilers alert: it didn't.

Penis, cock, dick...

Ah, fuck it!

---

Dear Jaskier,

After his fifth attempt to find me a princess to marry, I finally told my brother that I'm gay, and now he's pissed!

Apparently, they were all really counting on me to have kids since Hedwig can't give him an heir, and now I've ruined all of his and Dijkstra's brilliant plans!

Fuck, I hate Dijkstra so much...

At least Philippa has the decency of looking fabulous!

I'm telling you, that mage really slays!

Probably literally, too...

Yeah, on second thought, not sure that's such a good thing...

---

Dear Jaskier,

So, apparently my brother has forgiven me for ruining his plans of succession, since it's not like it's going to be his problem to deal with!

Yeah, after "much thinking on his part", it has finally occurred to him that heirs are only useful once you're dead, so he's never going to have any use for them!

Therefore, I should feel free to" waste as much royal seed as I want!"

Gods, I hate him so much, sometimes...

Although, that means I won't have to marry a princess, right?

---

Dear Jaskier,

Marry me?

---

Dear Jaskier,

I had a moment of weakness, and asked Philippa to find out where you were from and...

You're a Viscount?!?!

Oh my fucking Gods, I can't believe you're a Viscount!!!

Look, I'd totally have wanted to marry you regardless of any titles of nobility, but this makes things so much easier!

You see, Mom was a Baronness!

So, if Dad was allowed to marry a Baronness, and my brother chose to get married to a barren Princess, I'd like to see anyone try to tell me I can't marry a Viscount!

---

Dear Jaskier,

So, I asked Vizimir if I could get married to a Viscount, and he rolled his eyes at me, dramatically said "fine!", then asked "where the fuck is Lettenhove?"

Where the fuck is Lettenhove?

---

Dear Julian Alfred Pankratz,

Julian is actually kinda pretty, you know, although I can see why you'd want to choose a more personalized name, given your career as an artist...

Jaskier suits you.

Fuck, I've never actually met or spoken to you, but I've already decided that Jaskier suits you?

I'm hopeless!

---

Dear Jaskier,

I heard your new song and I'm so, so sorry...

I think I'm still a bit in shock over it...

I mean, how long has it been between you two? Twenty years?

And he just...

Look, I have no words!

How could he?!?!

Spent the whole dinner last night crying in my fucking soup, to the point I actually got my brother worried.

Tried to pretend I'd been reading this really tragic romance novel, but he didn't look too convinced.

He'll probably have Philippa breathing down my neck for a few days to make sure I'm okay...

Is there anything I could do to help you feel better?

I'm guessing you mean "burn" figuratively, and you wouldn't actually want me to ask my brother to arrest him and have him burn on a pyre, right?

Right?

Because we've got at least one of those...

---

Dear Jaskier,

Our bard sang the song again, and I had to excuse myself to from the room for a moment.

I know I said I wanted to marry you, but not like this!

I don't want you to have to give up on those you love for me to be with you.

I just... I just wish I could hopefully bring you even more love and happiness in your life...

Does that make any sense?

---

Dear Jaskier,

Just to be clear, that was just the anger, heartbreak and disappointment talking. I would never actually use my position to have Geralt of Rivia killed nor harmed in any way!

Unless you were to clearly ask me to...

Hurt him a bit for you, that is.

But, just so you know, I draw the line at any form of dismemberment or permanent maiming!

---

Dear Jaskier,

So, rumor has it the bastard has finally apologized, and you two have been spotted traveling together again?

Good.

He better treat your right.

---

Dear Jaskier,

How dare you?!

How fucking dare you?!

First, I am pleased to confirm that I was a hundred percent right, and "Jaskier" truly does suit you.

But sweet Melitele! You have no right to be so good looking, hot, and adorable at the same time!

What even was that curtsy-bow... ah, bounce?

You're just like I imagined, and nothing like I could ever have imagined, and, fuck... you're perfect!

Your voice even seems to sing when you are talking! How is that possible?

What I wouldn't give to actually listen to you perform one of your songs...

---

Dear Jaskier,

And just like that, we are back to penis.

---

Dear Jaskier,

I still can't find the words...

It was...

You are...

I am...

Fuck.

I am yours, is what I am!

I can't find the words, but I still remember every single one of yours...

Every one of them, right down to their very melody...

Been harassing our bard to teach me to play it...

Sadly, helping you won't be as easy as you make it sound; Philippa's started figuring out I'm not as clueless as I pretend to be, and from her sudden interest in me, I fear she might be misinterpreting my intents.

Still, I just want to make good on my word, and find a way to keep you and your family safe, Jaskier...

I need you to be safe...

Hopefully, Dijkstra and Philippa can convince my brother to reconsider his deal with Nilfgaard. After all, it's not like Vizimir ever would listen to me when it comes to making political decisions.

I'm way too much of an idealist and bleeding heart, according to him...

Still, I don't get why no one in this place seems to understand the value of win-win scenarios...

---

Dear Jaskier,

The good? My brother has been convinced. If she comes to Redania, Ciri will be fiercely kept and protected from Nilfgaard.

The bad? Convincing him involved a tiny bit of regicide, and I can't tell my brother about it, else I might end up a little dead, too.

Say, I hear your Witcher has a thing for adopting royals... think he'd adopt me?

Hopefully, once Vilgefortz has been exposed as a spy and a traitor to the Brotherhood, all this madness will stop; and we'll be able to catch and get rid of Rience once he looses access to his master's resources and protection.

I swear, I never expected things to get that bad, Jaskier... But I'll find a way to fix this. I have to.

Maybe if I can convince Ciri to come to Redania with your Witcher and his Sorceress, the combined power of Cintra and its allies with the North will he enough to stay Nilfgaard's hand, a second war will be averted, Dijkstra and Philippa will finally leave me alone, your debt to them will be considered paid in full, and perhaps your family can help change the way Redania has been ruling things as of late...

Yeah, I'd like to see Dijkstra and Philippa think they can get away with bullying your Witcher, a Witcher trained Princess, and two of the most powerful magic users of the Continent.

Of course, there's no guarantee Ciri would even want to listen to me, but I've got to try, at least.

#Jaskier #Radovid #Radskier #My Posts #My Stuff

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