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#DRIVING ME INSANE TRULY HOLY HELL!!!!
reveluving · 2 years
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GASP…. batmom obsessing (drooling) over bruce’s muscles MMMMM like dude his biceps. HIS BACK. DRIVES ME INSANE (makes me horny)
oh HELL YEAH- listen... idc if you're into Bale, Affleck, Pattinson or hell, even the from Webtoon, Bruce's muscles are a GODSEND so I'm going nasty on this one~ Thanks anon! ❤
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warning: smut (minors DNI! we a lil' nasty today)
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If there was one thing you love more than your husband, it would be his muscles because holy shit. The public may figure out that he was nowhere near scrawny, but they didn’t know how truly muscular he was. Very often would the press find you hugging his arm whenever the two of you are in public. Many call it cute, others called you possessive and whatever the case may be, it doesn’t matter. Because at the end of the day, he’s your Greek God of a man.
Whether he's waking up, getting ready for work or patrols, walking around the manor with no shirt, the second his shirt is off, your eyes are open. You cannot afford to miss any beauty, even if he sometimes wished for the scars he's accumulated to go away. You will always love every inch of him, inside and out.
But cheesy stuff aside, back to those muscles!
Other than for crimefighting, Bruce makes sure he stays in shape because of your obsession with his muscles. You've warned him a couple of times about overdoing it, though. You didn't want to be responsible for his injuries just because he was trying to impress you than he already has.
Still, that wouldn't stop him from either bench pressing you or making you sit on his back while he does push-ups.
Or if you're adamant on not being his little gym partner, he's still going to pick you up bridal style.
A lot.
'Cause even he has his own favourite about his muscles; having your hands all over it. You could come up to him behind after he's showered, tracing your fingers over his biceps with a 'oooh'. He finds amusement to see you awestruck, as if you don't wake up to it everyday. Showing your sultry side is also his aim. Having the power to bring out your frisky side when you feel him up.
With that being said, missionary and being on top of him would be your go-to if you want to see him in all his glory. Being underneath him would mean his big arms bracketing your head. Easily hovering you like it's his workout routine. He'll want those pretty fingernails digging into his back for when he fucks you at a relentless pace.
As for being on top of him, it can go two ways. You'd have to hold yourself up with his chest if you're riding cowgirl. That neck and Adam's apple of his will be your lick-and-nip victim.
But shit, who are you to deny yours or his wish to ride his abs, too? Seeing them soaked in your juices would be an instant turn on, even if he just came.
I might sound like the kinkiest bitch alive (but what's new) but if you lick your juices up, all while maintaining eye contact, do expect another round.
Overstimulation has entered the chat.
Or if he's sitting up, it's definitely not a lost cause either! Being able to see this man flush as he looks up at you in ecstacy, reminding you that you're his one and only and vice versa. Best believe those thighs of his are going to do work when you're too far into the pleasure. Bucking up his hips and easily finding the one spot that makes you scream.
Full offence but he'll definitely make you ride his thigh in the office. Jacket off, top half of his buttons popped open to give you a glimpse of the sweat dripping down his neck and chest.
Tell me I'm wrong.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
Got so many amazing asks from y'all so I might have to close our lil' session for a little bit to catch up! But it won't be our last, I promise! Remaining asks coming soon, can't wait to share it with y'all! ❤ (divider by @firefly-graphics)
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goron-king-darunia · 10 months
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More thoughts about sad half elf
Honestly the d...d..door jail (sigh, I said it) makes me so sad in an indescribable kind of way, while he did fuck up with the demons thing, he was not planning to destroy the world, and a 1000 years of confinement in ONE room would drive anyone insane. I'm probably overthinking it, because fantasy stories rarely portray the sheer amount of trauma that sort of scenario would cause, and "sealed" characters just go back into the world and their inability to adjust to new technology / changes in society is often played for gags. Sort of like a "haha, boomer" kind of way except this man is from dozens of generations ago. But, holy hell, just imagine that sort of thing IRL. There would be no mind whatsoever left there after all that time. No soul. It's a fate worse than death to be honest, I think it would be a far better ending for him to die and at least be reuinited with Aster in this way. Hell, a thousand years in one place - he might even forget Aster. Forget everything, completely shut down mentally because no mortal can handle this kind of suffering :')
Furthermore, there's the whole ending up just like he began, completely stripped of freedom. From a forced labor prison to door prison with a summon spirit he will probably never be able to truly forgive. It's a full circle in the worst way possible and it makes my heart hurt. A lot. Doomed by the narrative to forever remain a prisoner, first to the prejudices of society, then to his own anger and sorrow, and then to Ratatosk in Ginnungagap, in a pitiful attempt to atone for his sins.
How long exactly is his lifespan though? Because the ending says the mana removal process would take 1k years, but half elves can also live about 1k years, no? So it might even be him stuck in there until he dies of old age. Absolutely gutwrenchingly tragic, thanks DotNW. Wow. Rude.
Been a little busy but yes! Door Jail is insufferable. I really don't think it's an apt punishment for him, especially because, if we believe the manga, his biggest blunder was at least partially circumstantial. I do think with fantasy logic, we're meant to believe he's just going to be fine after all this, somehow. He's serving his time as penance and then he gets a life after and somehow 1000 years of basically solitary confinement doesn't drive him insane. But by IRL logic, yeah. His prospects are grim.
I don't think he could ever forget Aster, even after all that time, but I can definitely see the memories fading to vagueness and dreams blending with memory, so the already idealized version of Aster that he remembers just marinates and falls apart to become some indescribable saintly image, half-remembered. A sort of "I feel deep affection for this person, but I can't remember their touch, their voice, their face, I can't remember the time we spent together. I just remember how they made me feel and I remember the stories in my head about them. And I can't even ask anyone which of these stories are real because everyone else that knew him is dead."
"Furthermore, there's the whole ending up just like he began, completely stripped of freedom. From a forced labor prison to door prison with a summon spirit he will probably never be able to truly forgive. It's a full circle in the worst way possible and it makes my heart hurt. A lot. Doomed by the narrative to forever remain a prisoner, first to the prejudices of society, then to his own anger and sorrow, and then to Ratatosk in Ginnungagap, in a pitiful attempt to atone for his sins."
I have thought about that a LOT, and it hurts me every damn time. Especially with the Tales of the Rays skit "Symbol of Freedom." Richter genuinely only felt free when he was with Aster. To the point where even as a grown man, he's really not sure what he likes or not because he's never been able to try things himself without Aster. And he only really had financial freedom, physical freedom, and the emotional freedom Aster afforded to him on that ONE JOURNEY where Aster ended up dead. So this man literally got, like, one taste of real freedom and then the world came crashing down. So literally, in Richter's own words, without Aster, he wouldn't have ever even stopped being a basement prisoner. Without Aster, he ceases being free. Half-elves theoretically live to around 1000 years old according to Marta in the skit "Strange Guy" in DotNW. So, either we assume Ratatosk's world-bending powers to control Mana can stall Richter's aging (not impossible since Cruxis Crystals do the same thing) so he gets 1000 years as a padlock and another 1000 as a shell of a man trying to find meaning in a world where nobody knows him, or he spends 1000 years as a padlock and drops dead.
Considering Ratatosk promises to set Richter free once the world is fixed, I'm pretty sure he has a way of keeping Richter alive. But we don't know how much aging, if any, he'll be doing during that time. Still. Given that Aster was Richter's reason to live, I can't imagine he's going to have a great time, even if he remains young and has a full 1000 years outside of the Ginnungagap once the world is fixed. Genuinely tragic man. Door jail seems like overkill. But I do simp hard for that poor man. XD
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valentinehorrors · 3 months
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You're my only desire
(TW: bl00d mention)
Something was wrong.
Casey already knew he was different than other people, a little more insane and more willing to put himself in danger, yes. He was stupid, something else that was not new information.
But truly, he put himself in a very stupidly dangerous situation.
At first, he thought that Mikey was just isolated. Keeping secrets that were driving him insane, that all he needed was someone he could be honest to. That's who Casey wanted to be, someone Mikey didn't have to hide to.
Then shit got complicated. Because the more Casey learned about Mikey, wanting to be his one friend, the more he realized there was a reason Mikey was hiding.
Then his own thrill seeking, danger loving, stupid side kicked in. Casey has always been well-meaning, a good heart, but willing to do whatever needs to be done. Mikey was a whole new shade of gray that Casey was not ready for.
The more Casey thought about it, the more he fought himself over it. Initially, Casey thought that Mikey had just been dealt a bad hand, a shitty as hell hand. The human wasn't sure what he would do if he had the same needs as Mikey, would he have done anything different?
Mikey isn't really malicious right? At least, Casey hopes he's not. Besides, he's not really in a place to judge, he's pretty fucked up in the head too.
After all, his first thought at seeing Mikey, bloody, surrounded by torn apart bodies, was "that's kinda hot." It probably also helped that he had kinda saved him. A bunch of thugs and none of his vigilante gear, if Mikey hadn't had shown up...
Yeah, okay, a lot of mixed feelings. Mainly two feelings actually, the feeling of "Holy shit this guy can kill me" and "Holy shit this guy will kill anyone for me."
But there's also... "If I don't stay, there's not gonna be anyone else able to reel him back."
He felt bad whenever he had that thought though, he didn't want that to be the soul reason of their friendship, because truly it wasn't. Besides, even if it came to that, he had no idea if he would even be able to.
Little did he know, he wasn't going to be needing confirmation for much longer.
"So, you don't like April? Like at all?" It was another one of their late night talks, same rooftop. They were leaning against each other, back to back. Mikey's shell wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world but Casey didn't really mind or care. Said human was also preoccupied with Mikey's kusarigama. He was curious and the turtle let him fiddle with it.
"No. I greatly dislike her." Mikey said, as cold as ever.
"Like why though? She's chill ain't she?"
"Originally, it's because she was someone new to take into account. A lot is taken into consideration when it comes to my mask, part of the reason it works so well is because I know how my family works. Someone new added risk, she could catch on to my tricks, or find some discrepancy. Unlikely, but possible. She was an unpredictable variable that annoyed me."
Casey hummed in response as he swung the blade by the chain, careful not to hurt himself or Mikey. At least he thought he was being careful, then Mikey grabbed the handle before the blade could collide with Casey's shoulder, without needing to even turn his head. Casey chuckled nervously as he took it back and continued fiddling with the chain. "But anyway, why now?"
"What do you mean?"
"C'mon Mike."
"... You."
Casey paused, turning his head to try to look at Mikey. Ending up way closer than anticipated, the human's head on the turtle's shoulder. Mikey's own eyes at the same time turning to Casey, that familiar shiver going through him. "Me? I'm why you hate April?"
"Yes... It's no secret Casey. I'm... attached to you..."
"Obsessed more like." Casey lightly joked
"As though you don't enjoy it."
Casey's not sure why he blushed at that, other than he's fucked in the head. "Shut up. Still, it's just joking. Don't think she's into me at all either. I just like pushing at her buttons and sometimes she fucks around right back. Just teasing."
"I am allowed to still not like it, or her." There was a slight furrow of his brow, it was the most Casey had ever seen of Mikey aside from his unnerving smiles.
"Oh shit," Casey paused, thinking over his words, "you... really hate her huh?..."
Mikey nodded, "That doesn't mean I want you to stop being her friend. Don't misunderstand. Besides, it would be far too suspicious if you changed your dynamic so drastically."
Casey chuckled nervously once again "right..."
There was a tension in the air the second the girl's name was brought up. Casey had been worried but as the conversation moved on and the tension dissipated, he dismissed it.
He really shouldn't have.
Casey wasn't exactly sure how he did it, but he knew Mikey was watching him almost 24/7. Sometimes it was even a comfort to feel that familiar shiver pass through him. He recognized the difference now, knowing when he was simply cold versus Mikey watching him.
But something felt off today, he wasn't sure what it was, but something was up. Mikey usually just checks in on him every once in a while, but this time he swore Mikey's eyes just didn't leave him at all. He's not necessarily complaining, the whole situation had a thrill that Casey could never resist, Mikey was right about that.
It was just a thrill. Just some fun. Yes, Casey knew that Mikey was deadly, he saw it first hand. Hell, he had been pretty shaken up initially. But clearly Mikey had a handle on his darker side and his whole hunger thing. It was just a thrill. Mikey was always so mindful of his mask and keeping up appearances, he'd never endanger it.
...
Casey never thought he'd walk in to the lair, and see a kusarigama blade over the girl's neck.
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clairdelunelove · 1 year
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hello, dear! how are you doing? i hope you're fine! ‹𝟹
and i'll already apologising for the curses but, holy fucking hell?! the way you describe the fucking touches between simon & reader in “things simon ‘ghost’ riley finds attractive about you” is driving me insane. i'm about to combust & leave everything in flames!
also, also! i admire reader's self-control (for lack of a better word right now because my thoughts are all over the place) so much because if it was me i would pepper simon's face in kisses and never let him go or faint right in the spot 😵‍💫💭
anyways, thank you so much for writing for ghost! i can't put it into words how much i love the way you portray him, he's so!!!! *chief kiss* i yearn for this man so much every time i read your pieces of work. you're truly blessed with your writing 💓💘
sorry if i don't make sense, english is not my first language, but i just had the urge to let you know i admire you a lot! i wish you only the best 🫂
I— omg?? this is the purest and sweetest thing I’ve ever read before 🥺💗 such kind words. thank you so much, dear! I’m so glad that you like the way I portray ghost!! my brainrot for him is insane lol,, and tbh yes, I would also love to just give him the love he deserves heh! I have more ghost works if you have time to read them and I hope to write more about him for you to enjoy!
have a great day, luv! <3
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thattimdrakeguy · 2 years
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I Love Tim A Lot Which Makes Things Hurt
I care about Tim as a character way more than I should. There is no denying that.
That said, I am legitimately depressed, after having a day that I was mostly feeling good in until I visited the Tim Drake tag. That’s where I found out Tim was going to get a solo. And most people are excited, and again I’m happy for them. But I have no interest in it. That makes me upset.
But now I have to look at my favorite character and realize that I’m going to have to deal with half-assed content that only gets a pass based on something that happened last year, is going to drive me insane.
But this fandom, and his current writer that looks like he’s stuck with for the foreseeable future has just driven all my enthusiasm away. Fans that clearly don’t really care too much bitching. Like saying “They’re making Tim Robin again???” when he’s been Robin for a couple years now, like, oh yes, I truly feel the passion.
And it sucks. I see Tim has a solo, my heart sinks, I see who’s writing it, it’s the person who makes Bernard the least interesting love interests in a long ass time despite the fact she made Tim and him a couple, it’s the person who ignores everything Steph and Tim went through together that made them at odds with one another to pretend everything's all cute, the person who clearly can’t write Young Justice well, that’s his writer.
Then I read the summary, it takes a dig at Damian. Holy shit, fuck.
That’s just asking for people to shit on Tim. Who the hell thought that was a good idea? Everybody’s favorite Robin? I LOVE TIM. HE IS MY FAVORITE ROBIN. But oh my gosh, shut the fuck up, that’s such a shitty thing to write into his summary. That’s asking for people to hate on him.
And then I see the fandom, cheering on bottom of the barrel content, making a big deal out of things that aren’t that great, because they’re just happy to see their characters no matter what.
I don’t hate these people. I am truly happy they’re happy, but it’s overshadowed by my dislike of how this is the situation. Bad content being cheered on. Meaning we’re pretty much stuck with this now.
There’s no part of me that truly wants to sit through reading content that plays dumb to things, and gets stuff blatantly wrong, or honestly causes offense because of how stereotypical and trivial Tim’s gay romance is, despite the fact I do love them as a fictional couple--It’s just that I can’t tell the truth and say that I’m happy Bernard is a stereotypical twink that gets nothing to work with.
I can’t deal with another writer who thinks Tim and Steph are soul mates when it’s been obvious since the start that they’re not. I don’t hate Steph, I just hate their fucking relationship because it’s written so poorly. But now because she usually shows up because writers think she’s something she’s not, I get sick to my stomach seeing a character I used to love because I know it’s going to be written horribly like a possession.
I can’t deal with a writer that didn’t even seem to do basic research into Young Justice to figure them out. Instead coming off like they read some fan fictions or some crap.
And I can’t with a fandom that treats every crumb like it’s gold, or hates on shit that doesn’t need to be hated on, and keep saying stuff that doesn’t mean what they think it does.
It’s such an unhappy environment for me, but I really don’t want to leave Tumblr. I been on this site for so many years. I’ve made a lot of friends, and lost a lot of friends. As much as I don’t like it I still love it. I don’t want to leave.
But I can’t deal with this kind of stuff anymore. And I’m not likely to leave.
So I’m just asking for like, anyone that like, genuinely likes discussing comics and probably won’t want to fight me to like--talk, because I love this character, and his universe. I just hate what it’s become, and I can’t take seeing what it’s became anymore. What I love isn’t around anymore, and having one of my greatest passions become a peace of sorrow is just devastating. It’s a simple piece of fiction, but I’ve dedicated an unhealthy amount of time to it. So it’s really been effecting me.
It’s too much.
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existslikepristin · 3 years
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Yexercise
This was the vote story immediately after Movie Night. Note: image has all three members from the beginning, but it ended up being all Yeri.
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Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, Yeri, male reader insert, blowjob, titfucking, anal, va--nilla sex, workout sex, exhaustion, kink talk, appearances from Wendy/Seulgi/Irene but JoY hAs A bOyFrIeNd
~~~~~
"Hey, thanks. You don't need to give me the discount though," you say. You put your wallet back in your pocket, pick up the bag of muffins, and take the coffee from the guy across the counter.
"Nonsense! The Lounge wouldn't be so successful without your help. Besides, the profit margin on that stuff is insane."
The two of you chuckle with each other for a moment, and you smell the coffee he practically gave you free. Fresh roasted and ground on location, not too much sugar, and slightly more cream than usual. "Damn, man. This stuff smells like heaven."
"Heaven? Haha! More like Brazil! But speaking of heaven, who's the lucky lady today? You never get more than one muffin on your own."
You shrug. The man knows you, that's for sure. "Well, not a date this time. Wendy asked me to meet her here,"
"Oh, Red Velvet?"
"Yup. I think it's a business thing. I was asking her about song composing but I'm not supposed to tell you she's getting into that."
"Of course." He raises his eyebrows and flattens his mouth. "You know how Mr. SM can be about these things."
That's exactly what SinB and Eunha said and did a couple days ago, and nobody ever explained what they meant. "Actually, I--"
"Ah, there she is! And Seulgi and Yeri too!"
You turn around to see that he is definitely correct. Holding the door open is Wendy, dressed in a blue-and-white-striped sweater that sags off one of her shoulders, baggy blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her light brown hair is draped over one shoulder. Her casual outfit is contrasted by her exceptional, yet minimal make up.
Yeri has already passed her and entered the building. Unlike Wendy, her make up consists of some lazy eyeliner and not much else. Your heart skips a beat when you see her light gray yoga pants are as tight as a second skin, though her pink hoodie hangs just low enough to see any of her ass. She's cut her hair into a short bob again, and dyed it dirty blonde.
Seulgi follows Yeri, and certainly looks the most put-together overall. Her jet black hair is pulled into a ponytail so you can see her glamorous earrings and bright red lips. She's wearing a nearly wrinkleless white dress shirt barely see through enough to show her bra, black business pants, and short black heels.
A shiver crashes down your spine, nearly making you drop your coffee. You're not sure you'll ever get used to seeing all these gorgeous idols in person, and especially not when they're approaching you.
"Hey, sorry we're late," Wendy opens the conversation, "We got held up for a minute."
Yeri smirks. It looks like she's paying more attention to the menu overhead than to any one person. "Held up by some Canadian grandma driving."
Wendy frowns. "It's called a speed limit."
Seulgi gives you a short bow. You do the same back. Finally, a regular greeting. Then again, it makes sense since she's the one you've spent the least amount of time with. That's not saying much though, since you haven't had much opportunity to get to know any member of Red Velvet. "Good to see you again," she says formally.
"Oh shut up Sluggo, you know why we're here." Yeri points up at the menu. "I'll take the mocha--"
"What she means is... Well, can we talk?" Wendy asks, looking more than a little flustered.
"Yeah, totally. I got some muffins for us to share, but I thought it was just going to be the two of--"
"Fuck yeah, bro! Thanks!" Yeri snatches the muffin bag out of your hand and has one halfway in her mouth before you can protest.
Wendy sighs. "Let's sit down, shall we?"
Getting a table with room for four is a simple matter. Seulgi sits opposite from you, Yeri next to her, and Wendy next to you.
Yeri's busy eating both of the muffins you bought, which may be the only reason Wendy is able to finish her thoughts. "So, we don't have a whole lot of time. We're actually-- well, two of us are going to a gig in like fifteen minutes, but you know we're really busy. I mean, of course, you know us, and we've got a thing in fifteen-- Ugh. I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this. How's your day been?"
Normally in all of your previous conversations, short as they have been, you've noticed that Wendy is generally much more confident than this. "Um, pretty good. It's still early though. Just got here myself, so I haven't had time to do much today."
"Oh geez, that's right. I'm sorry, the last few weeks have really just been blending together, you know? So like, you know Yerin right? I mean, of course you know Yerin. So Yerin has been talking to Joy, and you've been brought up in that, and so we know a little bit about you."
You chuckle and scratch the back of your neck. "Ah, crap. If Yerin's been talking about me, I can only imagine the kinds of things she's said." Obviously, your history with Yerin and her perverted attitude can mean one thing.
Seulgi blushes. "Y-yeah. Is it okay that we're talking to you about this?"
"I mean, we haven't really talked about anything specific yet."
"They mean sex." Yeri blurts out, slightly muffled by muffin.
You laugh. Thinking back on Wendy's texts and her vague word choices, you figured she had a serious question for you, but you still can't figure out what it is she wanted to talk to you about. It's a little awkward that she brought two of her group members with her if she's looking for advice, too. "I kind of figured that's what it was about. But hell yeah, I'm an open book. What's on your mind?"
Wendy lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh my gosh, thank you. I thought I was going to die from my own awkwardness there."
She pauses as a barista walks over with Yeri's drink. You make note of the way, out of the corner of her eye, Yeri watches the barista's ass as she walks away.
Wendy continues with a bright smile that you're a little more used to seeing, "So uh, the three of us are currently looking for something, and wanted to know what your rates are."
You hesitate, piecing together what Wendy just said with the fact that the conversation has been defined as one about sex. "Has Yerin been... saying I'm a prostitute?"
Suddenly, it feels like you're in a pressure cooker. Silence grips the table as the tension rises. Wendy stares at you like a deer in the headlights, her eyes widening slowly and her smile fading.
The sound of the steamer behind the store's counter sets off a chain reaction of noise.
"OH MY GOD," Wendy shouts, "I AM SO SORRY!"
Yeri slaps the table and bursts into laughter, sending crumbs of muffin everywhere. Seulgi is glowing red, shaking all over, and looking frantically between you, Wendy, and the mess Yeri is making.
"I DIDN'T MEAN-- OH GOD--" Wendy grabs your arm with both hands, crushing down as if she's afraid you're about to leave. She lowers her voice to a hushed tone, but speaks at the speed of a runaway train, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean anything by it I supp-- We all support the sex work industry and I'm sorry I didn't me--"
The other two have effectively disappeared. Seulgi, with her arms covering her face and crouched low in her chair. Yeri has fallen to the floor, truly making the scene worse with how hard she's laughing and gasping for air.
For as mildly insulted as you feel, you aren't very surprised, considering Yerin's habit of using insults and crude words as terms of endearment. You smirk and put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. You try to calm her down, but are slightly afraid she won't hear you through her rambling, "Hey, hey. You're good. I'm not a prostitute, but it's fine."
Wendy slows down, but appears to be on the verge of hyperventilation. "I can't believe this. I shouldn't have assumed. Oh god. I am such a dumbass."
You get out of your chair and wrap your arms around her. She immediately shuts up, face melting into your chest. "You're good, Wendy. Honestly, that's hilarious more than anything."
Yeri is calming down a little as well, with the aid of Seulgi furiously brushing away the streaks of black makeup running off of her eyes. Even so, she can barely manage to get back into her chair, still having giggle fits and clutching at her stomach.
"I might not be one, but I think I can help you out anyway. What exactly are you looking for?" You let go of Wendy and watch her dab at a few tears that started with a napkin.
"No, no. I don't think I can say after all that. I am... so embarrassed right now."
Still fighting to catch her breath, Yeri chimes in, "We're too busy to find dick so she tried to find a way to schedule it. Holy shit, 'Sup? How's your day? How much do you charge for a good time, ho?' Right? Wow, Wendy."
"Yeri! That's not what she said!" Seulgi slaps at Yeri's arm and nervously looks around for anyone who might still be watching.
"Might as well have been! This is the best!"
You can't help but chuckle along with Yeri. You stare in her direction, hoping to get her attention with your next sentence, "You don't have to pay to fuck me."
That shuts Yeri up. She stares back. "Woah, you serious?"
You sit back down and glance at Wendy and Seulgi. They're staring too.
"Yeah, why not? Sounds like fun. Hell, I'd go for it right now, but you've got a gig to get to, right?"
Seulgi shakily raises a hand as if she's asking permission to speak. "O-only two of us are going to that."
Underneath the table, you feel someone's foot sliding up and down your leg. You have no doubt it's Yeri's, as she speaks up again, "Why don't you guess which one of us isn't busy today?"
Yeah. Why don't you?
Options for Part 1 [IMPORTANT (duh)]: 1. (Picked:) Is it Yeri? It seems too obvious, given how eager she obviously is. But she could be straight up trolling you. That seems like something she'd do. If it's her, you imagine you'll end up exhausted soon. She seems to have a LOT of energy to burn.
2. Is it Wendy? She's the one who organized this meetup after all. Maybe she'll ask you to come along as she drops the other members off at their gig. If she's the one, you can guess you'll have a very nice, sweet time. She's got those wifey vibes.
3. Is it Seulgi? She's been very quiet this whole time. She definitely took the time to dress to impress today. Maybe it's you she means to impress. If you're spending the day with her, you have no clue what to expect. You've got to watch out for the quiet ones...
~~~~~
You look underneath the table and see it is, in fact, Yeri who is stroking your leg with her foot. Her running shoes aren't exactly making it comfortable or sexy.
"I'm going to guess it's you."
"Sure is, babe." Yeri winks. Wendy and Seulgi both groan in unison. Yeri doesn't seem to mind them at all.
"So," Wendy says slowly, "you really meant that about having sex with us? I don't want to pressure you."
You look across the table and see Seulgi biting her lip, not in an intentionally sexy way, but maybe nervously?
"Yup. I'm not free literally all the time, so we might have to actually schedule it, which definitely feels weird, but I'm up for it."
Wendy grins. "Awesome! Thanks! Thanks? Thanks."
"But hey, to be totally clear, why me? You guys know you can have sex with each other, right?"
Seulgi pops in, "We have. It's just... we all want different things that others aren't comfortable with."
"Yeah, getting fucked softly by strapons is boooring," Yeri says. She glares at Wendy.
"H-hey! You know my hip--"
You're about to ask what they all want to do that's so radically different, or why they assume you're okay with all of it, but Wendy's phone alarm goes off.
"Crap. So, can we talk about this later? We have to get to our shoot."
"Totally, sure. Text me when you're off?"
Wendy and Seulgi are already starting to walk away. Yeri has made herself quite comfortable where she is though.
"I'll text you, yeah! Um, are you okay with babysitting that one for a bit?"
Yeri scrunches up her nose. "The fuck, bitch?!"
You laugh. "Yeah, why not?"
Wendy smiles and rushes out the door. Seulgi follows, but only after giving you a polite bow. "See you again soon!"
The busy life of a big three idol, you muse to yourself.
"Hmmm, seems we've got some time to kill, huh?" Yeri leans forward on the table, squeezing her tits through her bulky sweatshirt.
"Guess we do. I have one formal request to have sex with you and another to babysit you. Bit unusual."
Yeri groans. "Yeah fuck that. You realize I'm well into my twenties right? I want your cock, not a bedtime story."
You decide against telling her about the stories you swapped with SinB just a couple nights ago. "Couldn't put you to bed if I wanted to with that extra large mocha you've got there," you say instead.
“You could put me in a bed.”
“Snappy one. I like it.”
Yeri smirks and takes a sip of her coffee. “I don’t mean right now though. I’ve got something in mind already.”
“You mean what you were going to pay me to do?”
“Sure was, ho. Why? You still want the money?”
You sigh. “Well I’m really not in the business. So if you really want to spend something on me, maybe get me some breakfast? You ate mine.”
“You can eat me.”
After you give her a brief, unamused look, she relents. “Okay. Okay. What do you want? You can eat it on the way.”
“I see you like to make assumptions. And I’ll take a smoked salmon bagel.”
“I’m used to my assumptions being met. And I didn’t know they made those here.”
“Do you assume you’re going to get your way today? And they’re delicious.”
“Maybe I do assume that. I guess we’ll see. And I’ll have one too.”
Yeri hops off of her seat and goes back to the counter to put in your order. Thanks to the lack of a line or crowd, the bagels are ready by the time you’ve followed her. You open the bag.
“Four? Feeling hungry this morning?”
“Oh I’m starving for dick, but only one of those is for me. The others are for you. You’ll need the energy.”
“Question.” You stop, The Lounge’s front door half open in your hand. “Do you always speak so boldly and then follow it up immediately with something vague?”
She smirks and you watch as one of her hands slides around your waist and traces your butt before giving it a tight squeeze. She reaches past you with her other hand and pulls the door open the rest of the way so she can step outside, slowly twirling around you. “No,” she says, “Sometimes, I don’t speak.”
Smooth, you think.
The walk to wherever Yeri is taking you is a pleasant one. She takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She walks in sync with you. She makes easy conversation about work, food, and ideal local vacation spots. She nibbles on her bagel slowly enough that she finishes right about when you finish all three of yours. You almost forget that less than an hour ago she was making lewd comments about hiring you for sex, and that she is currently taking you to a location where she intends to fuck you.
It’s not long before you reach a building that she pulls you into, swiping a key card to open the door. The inside isn’t particularly remarkable, and you don’t see any signs anywhere that would reveal the building’s purpose. Three flights of stairs going up and one more key card swipe through a door, and you find yourself in a small gym.
One wall is effectively a single giant mirror like a dance studio would have, and there’s a variety of equipment you recognize as being for pilates as well as weight training and a treadmill. The floor is ever so slightly spongy-soft, it’s well lit when she flips on the lights, there’s a large potted fern in one corner with a small stereo next to it, and it’s otherwise undecorated. It smells like sweat.
“Personal, private gym?” you ask.
“Personal, private gym,” Yeri says. She drops her purse and kicks off her shoes next to the door, motioning for you to do the same.
“Not that I’m complaining, but couldn’t we have used a room at The Lounge, or your place, or mine?”
“Maybe. But I’m comfortable here. And there aren’t any company bitches here to get on my case for getting our freak on.”
Yeri walks into the middle of the room and pulls her hoodie over her head. It turns out she was only wearing a purple sports bra underneath.
Although she is still fully dressed as far as modern societal standards are concerned, you find yourself staring at her incredibly sexy body as if it’s totally exposed. Her leggings are exactly as skin-tight as you were hoping, practically revealing her firm ass. If she’s even wearing anything underneath them, you can’t tell. But as she lifts her arms above her head to toss her hoodie behind her and to stretch, it’s her mostly bare back and the toned muscle running up and down either side of her spine that catches you off guard. You can’t take your eyes away. She looks at you in the mirror and catches you staring.
“I’m glad you like,” she says, putting one finger between her teeth in the corner of her mouth and giving you a sultry look you didn’t think she was capable of. She twists to look at you over her shoulder. “Your turn.”
You remove your jacket and pull your shirt off. While it’s over your eyes, you hear padding footsteps coming your way, followed by a body being pressed up against yours. By the time your shirt is totally off, her hands are sliding up your back. This is one seriously forward idol you’re dealing with.
“So here we are. I picked the location. What’s next?” Yeri asks, “I’ve got a naughty thought or two, but maybe you have an idea you want to surprise me with.”
Options for Part 2:
1. No surprise, nothing fancy. Just get naked and get started. 2. There must be a shower in this building if it contains gyms. Ask her to take you there and you can get her wet all over. 3. (Picked:) Yeri was literally going to hire you for this, and “naughty thoughts” sound fun. Ask her what those are all about.
~~~~~
“Naughty thoughts huh? Why don’t you tell me about those?”
Yeri grimaces and looks off to the side. “Uh...”
“Uh…” You look down at her, confused. “What? What.”
“I was, you know.”
You hesitate…
“No! I don’t know! What?!”
“Like, I was expecting you to just rip off my bra or pants and go to town, you know?”
“But you said you have naughty thoughts. Why wouldn’t I ask about those?”
“I don’t know! I was counting on you not asking about them!”
You rub your eyes. You’re about to ask why she would bother bringing up the option if she was going to make such a big deal out of it, but she speaks first.
“I want to get fucked while I’m working out.”
“That’s it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.
“It’s not all I want to do.”
“Well, care to share with the rest of the class? Or are you too embarrassed about having really normal-sounding kinks?”
Yeri shoves you back and takes a few steps toward the pilates equipment. “Are we doing this or not?”
“I’m all for it.”
She grabs the sides of her bra and with no small amount of difficulty pulls it off over her head. You easily forget about the awkwardness as you watch her breasts squeeze out slowly and eventually drop the rest of the way.
Yeri's breasts live up to the hype. When she beckons you over to her (in the same way you would beckon for a dog, annoyingly), you realize your opportunity to touch them for yourself is at hand. Literally.
You grab her by the shoulders first though, spinning her around so she's facing the pilates bench and the mirror. You wrap your arms under hers to feel her tits from behind. They're more than your hands can take in a single grasp. But you're not in this for speed. You bend down to kiss her neck, which gets a satisfied growl from her.
"Bite me," she says. It's not a softly spoken statement, and it's right next to your ear thanks to your positioning, so you're stunned for about half a second.
You do as she demands, taking a small bit of her neck between your teeth and sucking. If she wants hickeys you won't argue.
You're rewarded with a smack on the top of the head. Confused with her behavior again, you pull away.
"I didn't say nibble. I said bite."
"Oh. Uh, sure."
"Like, draw blood."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah! Like, if you're gonna bite, it's gotta be hard! Really get your canine teeth in there, right? Just fucking give it to me."
You stare at her for a moment. "Let's, um, start with the exercise thing first, yeah?"
Seeming suddenly confident again, Yeri hops onto the pilates bench and flips herself upside-down using the bars. She stretches herself out into a position you imagine can't be easy to hold for long. "Sure, if you can reach me."
You squint at her for just a second. She's switching between embarrassment and confidence so fast you can't figure out what's really going on. But at least right now, she seems fine.
Standing up on the bench, you find you’re at nearly the perfect height to put your face between her legs. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You grab the waistband of her leggings and pull them down to her knees. Underneath, absolutely nothing. No underwear, no hair. Just a completely bare pussy and smooth ass tensed with the effort of holding her body weight in an upward arch.
It’s a tight fit getting your head between her legs, given that she doesn’t have a lot of space to spread them apart. The reward is worth the trouble.
You flatten your tongue against her pussy to give it a full, long lick. She responds with a long, breathy moan. And since she gives you no reason to stop, you do it again, and again, and again. Each time, Yeri shivers just a little bit, making it obvious how much she’s enjoying herself.
Hands on either side of her hips, just touching for the sake of touching and not holding her up, you close your eyes and focus on your work. Not work. You’re not getting paid for this. Stop thinking about that.
She’s got a mellow taste as far as you can tell. It’s got the tang you would expect, but it’s maybe a little musky. You don’t try to distract yourself, but trying to figure out how Yeri tastes the same way men’s cologne smells is really messing with your head.
It’s when her hips suddenly drop away from your hands that you realize she has been holding herself in place for several minutes. She’s breathing heavily and she doesn’t fall only because her leggings are caught on your shoulders. She doesn’t seem seriously exhausted or anything though. Maybe this was just the first rep.
“Tired?” you ask anyway.
“I also want to try pet play.”
You stare down at Yeri. You’re sure you heard the words that came out of her mouth correctly, but they weren’t the answer to your question. “So… hang on. Back up. What?”
“You know. Meow.” Holding herself up with one hand, she uses the other to make the classic neko paw.
You tilt your head and rub your temples. “Alright. Um, I think we should probably work out what’s really happening here. You gave me a lot to work with.”
Yeri hoists her legs back over your head and stands on the bench again, kicking her leggings off the rest of the way. “Yeah! What do you think? Those are my ideas!”
“They are varied.”
“Is that good or bad?” Suddenly Yeri looks embarrassed again.
“No! They’re good! I’m not here to kink shame you. I don’t know if I’m really into all of that, or if they can all be incorporated into a single session, but I’m totally up for some of it.”
Session? This isn’t an appointment, and this isn’t my job! you think, furiously. You’re suddenly worried if every minor reference to work or professionalism is going to sound like it’s connected to sex from now on.
Yeri smirks, “Oh, okay. That’s fair. Anything sounds good! What do you want to do… with me?” She punctuates the last two words by grabbing her tits and winking at you.
Deadline for this vote is 12/20 at 12:00 UTC! No guarantees on how fast Part 4 will come out, but work should slow down soon, and it’s not like I’ll be going anywhere for a holiday because of this virus, so you can probably expect Part 5 and maybe also another short over that weekend! Options for Part 3: 1. (Picked:) Workout sex sounds like it will wear you out, but getting sweaty with a partner has never been a problem before! 2. Pet play? What was that meow about?! Maybe you want her to play a cat, or you can convince her she'd be something else? 3. Oh fuck, right. Yeri likes vampires. Bite her. [Warning for blood stuff, though not super gory or anything Red Flavor joke]
~~~~~
“Tell me more about this workout sex,” you say. To avoid letting the mood die down any more than your confusion already might have you inch forward, one hand on Yeri’s breast, the other wrapping around the small of her back. You pull her in closer toward you and put your mouth to hers.
Yeri hums into your kiss. She takes a moment to enjoy it before she pulls back. “It’s exactly what it sounds like, like what I said.” She comes in for a couple more small kisses and continues, “I work out. While I do that, you fuck me.”
You bring her back into the kiss, keeping it chaste for now. At least, as chaste as you can get while you’re more than half naked and she’s completely naked and you’re discussing exactly how you’re about to bang.
“I can start over there and bench while I suck your cock.”
You moan your agreement into another kiss.
“Then I can do my squats on it while you take your turn benching.”
You moan your “Huh?” into another kiss.
“Then you can do your squats by pile driving me into the floor.”
So it seems she plans on you working out too.
“So? Are we going to do this?” Yeri holds you back.
You take a deep breath. Whatever higher power you believe in has brought you this far. You’re not going to let it down.
“Why don’t you get down there and find out?”
Yeri practically jumps across the room. She grabs a couple of dumbbells and immediately gets into bench press position.
When you walk over, ditching the rest of your clothes on the way, Yeri looks up at you and smirks. She wiggles the weights around and, in a sing-song voice, says, “Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb.”
You stand above her, unsure how to respond.
“Get it? Dumb Dumb? Dumbbells? The weights?”
“Uh, no?”
“What?! That’s like, a classic!”
“Is that one of yours?”
“Yes! You haven’t heard it?!”
“You just called your own song a classic.”
Yeri rolls her eyes. “Not classic as in old. As in-- I’m about to suck your dick, so laugh at my jokes.”
That makes you actually snort back a laugh. “Okay, I guess I get it now.”
She smiles and hangs her head off the edge of the bench. You make your way next to her head and she licks her lip at the sight of your dick at nearly her eye level.
“Just don’t go too hard okay? I’ve got a gag reflex.”
You crouch just enough so that your dick touches her lips, which she happily opens. The moment her tongue reaches out and touches you, you feel a bit weak in the knees. How you’re going to keep this up and also do real exercise, you have no idea.
Yeri cautiously starts pumping her weights up and down at her sides. You take the same slow pace with moving back and forth. After the mention of her gag reflex you don’t dare thrust for real, keeping it to an inch or so at a time. Yeri more than makes up for the lack of depth with her tongue though, twirling and curling it around randomly.
Thankfully there’s a bar across the bench that you can lean on to prevent a total collapse. Just beneath your head, you watch as Yeri’s chest and arms flex to push the weights up, then relax and spread out as she lowers them. The steady motion, the subtle definition of her body, and her heavy tits are a sight to behold, and so behold it all you do.
Yeri’s tongue sweeps across the bottom of your dick, and you feel a burning desire to be deeper inside of her. You decide to try your luck and push forward a bit farther. She doesn’t so much as lose the tempo in her lifting, so you go farther. Too much more and you’re sure you’re going to hurt her, but her legs are spread to either side of the bench, leaving something else open that you could probably get much deeper in.
You’re suddenly jolted back to awareness by the sound of weights slamming to the floor. Yeri grabs your hips and holds you tightly in place. You think she may have forgotten about the exercise after all with how intensely she’s sucking. But then, she pushes you away and gasps for air.
“That’s one set down!” She grins up at you and strokes your dick.
“Isn’t it bad etiquette to drop your weights like that?”
“Personal, private gym, remember? My gym, my rules.”
“Well not to break your rules, but I want to try something else in your next set.”
“Why? Didn’t you like that?”
“Oh I did, but that’s just the problem. You’ve got me worked up now, and I’m having a hard time holding back.”
Yeri gulps, and you see her whole body shiver. “I-I mean, I’ll try.” She picks her dumbbells off the floor and lays back again, sticking her tongue out and opening her mouth wide.
“I didn’t mean deepthroat! I just meant I wanted to fuck your pussy.”
You aren’t sure if Yeri’s sigh is one of disappointment or relief. “Ah, I see. Well by all means go for it!”
She scoots herself down the bench so her head isn’t hanging off and starts her next set. You walk around her slowly, just taking in the sight, admiring her again. She’s clearly used to the exercise, because her skin is just barely starting to show a few dots of sweat.
Once you’re between her legs, it’s a simple matter to crouch again just a little to maintain the correct height. You couldn’t see it from your previous angle, but Yeri is soaking wet. It’s only been a few minutes really, but already there’s a puddle underneath her. You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for contributing to that.
Yeri’s entrance is tight, but pushing into her is smooth sailing with how much natural lube she’s producing. Every time she lifts her weights, her muscles tense and she subtly clenches down around you. You might have thought this was a weird concept to begin with, but you’re definitely on board now. Not quite in time with her lifts, you thrust in and out. Looking down, you can see her toes curling. She’s clearly putting in a lot of effort not to squirm out of position.
“Seems like you’re having fun, huh?”
You don’t get an answer. You’re slightly annoyed that she seems to be ignoring you, but you realize she’s probably trying to count reps. But it would be fun if you could make her lose track…
You put your hands on either side of the bench and get a good grip, preparing to turn into a fucking machine.
Unfortunately, you’re the one who gets a surprise when Yeri drops her weights again. Her head shoots up to yours for a needy, open-mouthed kiss. Her damp body presses against yours.
“This is...” she says between the moments she has her tongue in your mouth, “so much better… than trying it… with a dildo!”
You try to push Yeri away so you can get a word in, but her arms and legs are both clamped around you. You give in and lower her down so she’s on her back again, putting you right where you need to be so you can roll your hips.
Yeri squeals and her grip on you gets even tighter. “More!” she shouts when she pulls away for a half a second.
You strain to get your hands under her arms and break out of her grasp. Her nails rake across your back quite painfully as you do, but you manage to pin her arms to her sides. She glares up at you, biting her lip and giggling.
“More?” she asks this time.
“Don’t you have one more set to do? Isn’t three sets a thing?”
Yeri scowls. “I changed my mind. It’s your turn to bench. I need to do my squats right now.”
You roll your hips again. You watch, amused, as Yeri’s fingers clench at the air over and over again. You’re a little worried about what might happen when you let her go, considering she seemed to have some kind of blood fetish. But then again, she might just not be trying all that hard to get away. She’s the one with a fairly athletic career and a workout plan after all.
Even so, you can’t help but tease her with another roll of your hips. You have difficulty finding your own words with how good she feels, tight around your cock. “It was your idea to get fucked while you worked out. I’m just holding you to your word, you know.”
A sly smile curls across Yeri’s face, though it trembles when you grind into her again. “I’m keeping my word! I normally only do two sets at a time!”
“I’m not so sure I believe that.” Her legs let up a bit, so you use the leeway to get in a short thrust.
“You calling me a liar?”
“Of course not. Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t call me a liar you get to pick what hole I fuck you with while you’re benching.”
She makes a valid argument.
Deadline for this vote will be 12/26 at 6:00 UTC (just in case some of you will be too busy the day before with holiday stuff) Options for Part 4: 1. No complaints from you if she continues with her pussy! 2. Then again, you’ve got a thing for anal, and she’s offering. 3. She could give you a blowjob. It seems like she wants the practice. 4. (Picked:) But also… Yeri is the first person in one of these stories with big enough boobs for a titfuck.
~~~~~
“Well since you’re definitely done with your sets, and since you’re not lying, you wouldn’t mind titfucking me?”
A few quiet moments go by. Yeri puts a hand on her chin, looking down between your bodies, then to her boobs, then at the dumbells on either side of her. She reaches down to grab the weights again.
“There’s lube in my bag. Grab that first.”
You smile and pull out of her pussy, which makes both of you take a sharp breath at the same time. “Doing more benches huh?”
“Well obviously. This is workout sex. I can’t give you a tit job while I’m squatting, so the best solution is for me to focus extra hard on my arms - which is definitely more than I normally do - so you can stand over me.”
Her bluff is pretty obvious, but it’s amusing, and you’re still getting what you asked for so you’re not going to push your luck by calling her out. This is something you’ve been trying to convince Yerin to try for a while, but she’s brushed it off every time. So if you aren’t getting a boob job here, you’re not sure when or even if you’ll have the chance again.
The lube you find in Yeri’s bag is vanilla scented. While you take a moment to enjoy the smell, Yeri lies down and starts another set with her six kilo weights.
You move to stand over her chest and enjoy watching her muscles work again from a different angle. This time you watch her breasts in particular, putting a hand down to lightly cup one and brush your thumb over her nipple. Much like before, Yeri’s focus on her workout is uncanny. You can’t get her to break, so you decide to help yourself.
You pour a generous amount of the lube into Yeri’s cleavage, smearing it all over. Your dick is still wet from her pussy, but this stuff will certainly last longer. The pleasant smell and the sight of her wet breasts turn on your instincts again. You lower yourself until your dick is resting on her, and you squeeze her tits together.
It’s not nearly as tight as anything else you’ve experienced today, of course, but it’s no less of an incredible feeling. When you start to move back and forth is when you realize how heavenly it is, even if it involves some extra effort. As you slide through Yeri’s cleavage, you notice the tiniest glance down from her. Is she losing her focus?
You smirk and reposition your hands a bit so you can casually rub her nipples between your fingers. Again, a small glance down. This time, it’s accompanied by the corners of her lips moving up.
“If you’re enjoying this already, wait until your hands are free to help out.”
“Ssshut up.”
Her arms tremble for a second. It would make sense if she’s getting distracted by the fact that she’s working out. But she hasn’t done that much, has she? Six kilos isn’t too crazy for an athletic idol like herself. You take a look over to the side again when her arms come all the way up.
There’s a mostly worn off line right before the six. She’s lifting nearly triple what you thought she was. Suddenly, you find yourself concerned with where they might land if she drops them again, given where your feet are, and you resolve to not distract her anymore.
That doesn’t mean you’re going to stop the titfucking of course.
You shift your feet back a little and have to lean forward, but you manage to get back into rhythm quickly. You slide in time with her lifting. The next time you look at her face, Yeri’s eyes are screwed shut and she’s biting her lip.
You aren’t able to contain a groan, and her eyes snap open and look into yours. She gives you a smile and after one last pump of her weights, she tosses them (thankfully) to the sides. Her hands clasp over the top of yours. Her breaths are labored, but she speaks through them just fine.
“I’m helping now. What am I waiting for?”
You pull one of your hands from under hers. It takes you no time at all to find her clit. Her knees come up to trap your arm there, as if you needed the additional encouragement. You circle it slowly with your fingers.
“Oh, I see now.” Yeri’s voice is quiet and her mouth quivers. She looks down at your cockhead poking out of her cleavage with hunger in her eyes.
You take your other hand away from hers, but only so you can put it back on top, where you guide her into kneading her breasts around your dick. She quickly picks up on the hint and squeezes down. She even takes the initiative and lifts her head to try to lick you as you thrust.
Unfortunately, she can’t quite reach, but you’re not going to let her effort go to waste. You hover your now free hand next to her pouty lips. You quickly go back in your mind to when she was very interested in biting, but you’ve already sealed your fate, and her mouth is wrapped around two of your fingers.
Something about watching her dutifully crushing her tits against your thrusting dick and sweetly sucking on your fingers with her eyes closed sets you off. You barely have the time to say, “I’m cumming.”
In that moment, Yeri’s eyes reopen and catch yours. She makes no move to change what she’s doing. So with one last thrust, you groan in ecstasy and orgasm.
Your cum first hits the bottom of her chin, then lands on her neck, then seeps out onto her chest, directed into different directions by her collarbone. She hardly reacts where you can see it, keeping her eyes locked onto yours and wrapping her tongue around your middle finger.
On the other hand, literally, her legs wrap around your arm and roughly pull your hand until it’s fully connected with her pussy. Your brain is still in a mid-orgasm haze, but it’s easy enough to realize what you’re supposed to be doing. You oblige, dipping two fingers inside her. That gets a happy hum out of Yeri, which you feel directly vibrating up your hand.
After you blink the stars out of your eyes, you look down and see that Yeri is scooping at your cum to bring it to her mouth. She sucks it in without letting go of your fingers. You would protest at the awkwardness of feeling your semen being swirled around your knuckles, but the greediness she displays is way too sexually charged for you to care about things like that anymore.
Eventually, she vacuums all of it down and off your hand, swallows, and releases you. She gives you an expectant look, eyebrows raised and mischievous smile plastered across her face.
You continue to finger her, but her eyes don’t move from yours. “Um. Wow, damn,” you say, not sure what else she wants.
Yeri’s eyebrows go higher. “You’re not going to mention…”
“Your amazing body? Or how hot it is when you’re sweating like that?”
Her smile turns into an absolute shit-eating grin. “Protein shakes are good after exercise!”
You bite your cheek to keep from… laughing? An exasperated sigh? You’re not sure, with how terrible and cliché of a line that would have been.
“Yup. Definitely something like that.”
Yeri giggles and pushes you back so she can sit up. She takes the hand you were fingering her with now. “So you still up for more? Joy says Yerin says you can usually go more than once.”
She starts to lick her juices off of your hand. You can’t help but admire her weird pervertedness.
Deadline for the Part 5 vote will be 1/1 at 12:00 UTC (because I am guaranteed not to work that day!) Options for Part 5: 1. Of course you’re still up for more, as long as you don’t have to deal with more of this workout bullshit! 2. (Picked:) You’ll do more, but only after she does the squats she said she was going to do. She doesn’t get to half ass her workout just because you’re here! 3. Nope. You’re out of here. See you around, sloot! 4. Maybe. But you'd actually like to maybe get to know Yeri a little first? You kind of jumped into this real fast.
~~~~~
“What? You’re already done with your workout? You’ve barely done anything though.”
Yeri gives you a dirty look. “I’d normally do more, duh. But you’re here right now.”
“Yeah, to fuck you while you work out.”
“Yeah, which you did.”
“Did you cum?”
“No, but that’s fine. I got what I wanted.”
“Do you want to?”
Yeri looks over at the squatting rack, chewing her lip. “I wouldn’t mind, but it’s hard to make me cum. And it would be dangerous while I’ve got something really heavy on top of me.”
“Challenge accepted then.”
She raises her eyebrows at you.
“You go hard on the rest of your workout and I’ll do the best I can to make you cum once you’re done.”
Yeri doesn’t say anything. She walks over to the rack though, and leans back against it. She looks you up and down, straight-faced.
“If you don’t cum, it’s not like you’re not getting your money’s worth.”
She still says nothing, her eyes landing on your dick.
“Because you’re not paying me for this. Because I’m not a prostitute…” You shrug, unsure of how to proceed when you’re being stared down naked.
“Let’s do it. I want to see if you can do it.”
“If I can? Well, what is it that makes it so hard to make you cum?”
Yeri bends over to grab some weights to put on the bar. “I dunno. If I knew, I wouldn’t have the problem.”
“You nervous?”
“It’s not like I haven’t had sex before.”
“Uncomfortable maybe?”
“No, I’m fine. A bit restless, but who isn’t?” Yeri stands under the bar, adjusting herself so her back is comfortably in the curve.
“I know a couple other people like that. We’ll do a little bit of experimenting. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t.”
“Good enough for me.”
“Good enough huh?”
“Yup.”
“Sounds unenthusiastic. You sure you’re up for it?”
“I asked you for another round, remember? I just don’t want you getting your hopes up.”
You laugh. “Everything I could have hoped for is standing in front of me nude and about to do squats.”
Yeri chuckles and picks the bar off the rack. “Greasy.”
You just smile and watch as she does the first squat. It looks effortless. You don’t know enough about form to judge it, but it seems like it’s been practiced for quite some time. It’s smooth on the way down, and smooth on the way up. Graceful, even.
The grace of the action is slightly undercut by the fact that she is of course still naked, a little sweaty, and her chest is completely covered in lube. But that makes it no less attractive to you.
As she does more, you walk around, getting a good view from every angle. The mirror wall ensures that if she wants to, she can see you as well. But she seems focused again, staring herself in the eye.
Her breaths are labored. She inhales deeply as she goes down and exhales loudly as she comes up. Her skin starts to glisten all over as her effort comes out in her sweat. You reach out to touch her, but you suddenly get an idea and step back. Shortly after, she sets the bar back on the rack with a heavy sigh.
“What’s up? You can touch. It’s encouraged.”
You go back to her purse and pull out a water bottle you had seen earlier. “I’m going to hold off on touching you for a minute. I like this. I’m changing the plan. I’m not touching you until I can see how much effort you’re putting into this.”
A smirk creeps up one side of Yeri’s mouth. “You’re on,” she says. She catches the water bottle when you toss to her and takes a swig from it. Then she puts another five kilogram weight on either side of the bar.
As she gets into the next set, you move next to her and sit down on the floor. “Look at these hard-working legs,” you say. She didn’t respond the last time you talked to her, but she can still hear you… you assume. This is mostly just you saying your thoughts out loud, but you hope she’s paying attention.
“Taking on all of this to maintain the look of a perfect idol, but healthy. Damn, I would kill for your dedication.”
Glancing at the mirror you see another tiny smile on Yeri’s face.
“What would you say the ratio is? Your effort and practice versus your natural talent. What amount of each is it that makes your performances look so easy? Because watching you right now it has to be at least sixty percent or more in favor of the exercise.”
You reach out again like you’re going to touch her as she comes down, but you keep your hand just far enough away.
“And not just what you do, but the way this body of yours looks. If I wasn’t watching you sculpt it right now, I’d have figured it was sculpted by some Greek god. Belongs in a fucking art museum if you ask me.”
Your hand hovers extremely close to Yeri’s leg. You can actually feel the heat of her body, way above what you’d normally feel coming off a person. It’s like she’s a human furnace. And the amount of sweat on her is very noticeable now.
The bar catches on the rack again and Yeri bends over to grab the water again, drinking a few more swallows of it this time. “Museum my ass,” she says through a breathy laugh.
“That’s what I’m saying! One more set, right?”
Yeri stretches her arms, prompting you to wonder why she didn’t stretch before the workout. Your narrator says you shouldn’t think about it because it’s really hard to remember all of those kinds of details, and that’s not the point of word porn. But yes, you should be careful and stretch before working out.
“That’s right. I hope you’re ready to go again because I’m seriously wanting more.”
“Absolutely,” you say. You stand up and run a hand over Yeri’s butt and up her back, pressing roughly. “I don’t think I’ve even gone soft once since I had this scene in front of me.”
Yeri groans and rolls her shoulders as you touch them. “I can stop now, you know. I could go for the fucking right now.”
“I know, I know. But you’re not done yet. And I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying watching this.” You take your hand away and look Yeri in the eye via the mirror wall. “Hell, I might just have to convince you to do more.”
Without another word, Yeri gets underneath the bar again and picks it up. “If you’re so eager to see more, then…” She cuts herself off and dips into another squat.
Your eyes trace her from the floor up as you circle around. Yeri's thighs tremble from the weight. Her ass spreads from the movement. Her chest heaves from her breaths. Her lips part in just a way that you consider telling her to drop the bar so you can kiss her, but you're committed to watching her finish.
Rather than tempt yourself with the sight of her lips, you look up at her eyes. But you quickly regret it, as she looks back at yours. Her normally bright, mischievous eyes turn into black holes that you can't escape from. You feel a drop of your own sweat curl its way down your cheek.
“Holy shit, Yeri. I can’t wait to fuck you again, but at the same time, seeing this is too incredible to stop.”
Yeri is the one who breaks the gaze first, scrunching up her eyes. You look down again to see the trembling in her legs has gotten pretty bad.
"This is more weight than you usually use, huh?"
"Y-yup."
"How many left?"
"Three."
"Five."
"What the fu--"
You interrupt her with a kiss, since she's fully upright. The heat of the fire inside her drafts into your mouth. You don't want to stop, but you manage to pull away. "Just do five."
She looks up at you, her mouth gaped open. "Kay,"
As Yeri dips down, you walk around her again. Behind her, you put your hands out over her shoulders to spot her when she's back at your height. "Four more."
Yeri glances at you in the mirror, but quickly shuts her eyes again and goes down. You follow to make sure she's safe, but keep your hands off the bar.
Back at the top again, you continue the countdown. "Three."
Yeri doesn’t open her eyes this time. You just follow her down again, lightly resting your wrists against her shoulders to make sure she knows you're there. Her whole body is quivering as she rises again.
She gasps loudly when she's upright. "Keep breathing," you remind her, "Only two more."
"Shit," is the one word she gets out before she goes again. There's a moment when she reaches the bottom that she hesitates, and you fear she's going to drop the bar. You brace your arms, but Yeri clearly isn't one to disappoint. She rises again, shaking like a leaf.
You feel a little bad when she's all the way up again, as she is clearly already beyond what she's comfortable with. Even so, you're confident you can keep her from hurting herself, so you lean forward next to her ear and say very softly, "Just one more."
It seems she's got nothing more to say, because she immediately goes down for the last squat. You nearly lose your balance following her this time.
She squirms as she starts to lift herself up for the last time. The sweat practically pours off of her.
Her form must be a little off too, because the bar knocks against one of the middle rungs on the rack. She jerks back. A struggled croak comes out of her throat, and you can see her face screwed up in the mirror, with the tiniest bit of black eyeliner running down one side of her face. You're just about to grab the bar and push it up the rest of the way, but you barely have the time to make the move when she huffs and practically jumps up the rest of the way.
The bar lands on the rack safely, but Yeri's knees buckle and she starts to collapse forward. Thankfully with how close you are, you're able to catch her almost immediately, and avoid smacking your head on the bar too.
Her skin, even through her sweat, is practically hot enough to burn your hands. You help her lay down on her back and grab her water bottle, opening it and holding it ready.
Despite your concern, you're feeling extremely turned on. Her beautiful chest rises and falls rapidly. Her whole body absolutely shines. And on her face, closed eyes and a satisfied smile.
You put the water bottle to her lips and tilt so just a little trickles into her mouth. "Stay hydrated," you say simply. Yeri complies and gulps down the stream of water.
When you take away the half empty bottle, Yeri groans and uses her arm to roll herself onto her stomach. "Fuck me already."
That's a request you're happy to fulfill. You position yourself over her and spread her ass apart with your thumbs. Your dick is still covered in lube from earlier, and she's pretty slippery right now too…
A pleased hum from Yeri is the last encouragement you need, and you slide into her ass much more easily than you would have expected. Yeri's moan is muffled by the floor.
"So I keep going, eh?"
"Mmmfffmm."
You lift her pelvis up a bit so you can get a hand underneath and on her clit like before. You rub slowly, to match the slow thrusting into her ass. She doesn't move at all, but her moans keep coming. Much like earlier, her pussy is absolutely drenching your hand, so you assume you're doing something right.
Now that you're in full contact with her body, you can feel her heat again. It's hot enough to be uncomfortable, but considering what you just convinced her to do, you don't think your comfort is worth stopping for.
"How do you feel?" you ask.
Yeri lifts her head enough to respond coherently. "My legs fucking hurt."
You chuckle. "Yeah, sorry about that. You just looked so good doing that. Do you need some time to cool do--"
"Don't you dare get off of me."
"Woah! Noted. Nice."
Yeri rests her head on her arms. "The burn is worth it."
"Good to hear. I enjoyed it too."
"Oh? You didn't do much though. After this," she takes an extra deep breath. Whether it's because of something you did or her exhaustion you're not sure. "After this, you can do an actual workout you know. I think it's only fair if you take a turn, right?"
Ummm… is it fair?
Literally only even putting this in because this part was starting to get too long and I need to try to keep them short for my own sanity LOL *dies inside*. So the deadline for Part 6 will be Jan. 4th at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 6: 1. (Picked:) Of course! You’ve been looking forward to your chance this whole time. You’ll happily get your lift on! Save you a trip to your gym! 2. Sure, if you have to. But maybe it’s something you can discuss when you’re not in the middle of this? 3. You don’t want to work out. That wasn’t exactly what you had planned when you came in, but you’re not going to say that now. 4. No way. You’re here to fuck Yeri. If you’re going to work out, you’ll do it on your own time!
~~~~~
In the time it takes you to pull almost all of the way out and slide all the way back in, you’ve made a decision. “Yeah, fuck it. Maybe you can give me a solid tip or two. I could probably use the exercise anyway.”
“I don’t know. Feels like you’re fine to me, but I’m happy to help if I can.”
“Aw, how flattering. And to think I considered saying no.”
Yeri fidgets a little bit. “That would have been okay. Either way, I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing now.”
“That’s good. Because I don’t want to.”
“But don’t forget. It’s okay if I don’t cum.”
“You know, that’s alright. I’m just going to make this as pleasurable for you as I can while I have you underneath me. Let’s not worry about the orgasm right now.”
Yeri holds her head up long enough to look at you in the mirror and say, “Oh my, you caught on. Thank you. But about the orgasm… I do like the idea of your cum in my ass.”
You’re not going to bother arguing against that. If that’s what she wants, you’re happy to provide.
You give Yeri’s ass a few more long, slow, languid thrusts. All the while, you keep a steady pace on her clit.
For as tired as she must be, Yeri doesn’t leave all of the work to you. She grinds her hips in tiny circles and clenches down on her pelvis. She must be doing some kind of exercise for that too, because you know for a fact both Eunha and Yerin have never been able to do that quite as effectively as Yeri is now (though you do feel a sense of deja vu and the name Seungyeon briefly pops into your head). You have to pause each time she does it, and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed by it or if it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.
At the end of an extra long stroke, Yeri reaches behind herself and lays her wrist on the back of your neck, pulling you down so your mouth is next to her ear. You take it as a hint, so you nibble and kiss around the outer edge.
Yeri giggles in a low tone. Her fingers stretch their way into your hair and lightly scratch back and forth.
The sensual tone of the moment overtakes your sensibilities for just a second. Just long enough for you to back up and drive in with one powerful thrust. You hear Yeri’s breath catch in her mouth and you bite down where her shoulder meets her neck, just above and behind her collarbone.
It wasn’t your intention to bite especially hard, but you were a little caught up. Yeri’s caught breath turns into the very first bit of a scream before it catches once again. Her fingers spasm on the back of your head, and every other part of her body that’s in contact with yours tenses up.
You also don’t intend to stop. You don’t quite pound into her the same way, but you do move faster than you were moving before. You change your angle to be more vertical, and you manage to get a couple of fingers around Yeri’s clit.
“Oh god,” Yeri manages to say.
Her ass clenches down on your cock painfully hard. Her whole body freezes up, and the hand on your head feels like it’s stuck. You’re just able to keep thrusting. It seems that’s exactly what you needed to do, too.
Yeri screams out incoherently. You’re a little thankful that she’s facing away from you and into the floor, because you feel like you might have lost your eardrums otherwise. Even as it is, your ears hurt.
Her hand falls away and pats the floor. Her voice is much weaker now. “I came… I came,” she mutters.
You cock an eyebrow up. It wasn’t as hard to make that happen as you were led to believe, especially for anal sex. Fully hilted in, you grind your hips around. “That was easy.”
“Shut uuup,” her voice sounds hoarse. You look to the side to make sure the water didn’t get knocked over at any point, because you get the feeling she’ll need it. “It doesn’t usually happen… like that.”
“What do you think was different?”
“I don’t know… the clit stuff maybe?”
“You don’t get your clit played with often?”
“No, I… I said shut up! Can you… let me up?”
You hold back a laugh and do as she asks. Untangling yourself is slightly difficult with her dead weight on your arm, but you help out by pulling her over onto her back and handing her the water bottle.
Looking down at your hand now that it’s free, you see it’s completely soaked. You must not have noticed how wet she was getting with all of the heat and being distracted by the intense fucking. And right where she was just lying down, there’s practically a lake. You’re not sure where her sweat ends and where her sexual fluid begins (but you have a pretty good idea).
Yeri drags herself up into a sitting position against the squatting rack and finishes off the rest of the water. “Well now my legs and my ass are going to be sore for days. Good thing I’m only MCing stuff I can sit down for.”
“Are you going to be okay with that? After that scream, your voice is a little bit…”
“Yeah, I’ll just tell them I’ve got a little cold. They’ll buy anything.”
The two of you smirk at each other.
“God damn though, that was good. Is it weird to say thanks for that?”
You chuckle. “Nah. And you’re welcome. Will you need more water?”
“I’m dehydrated as fuck now, so yes. But there’s a vending machine right down the hall. But this was enough to hold me over for a minute. What are you looking to do?”
Yeri gestures around the room. There’s quite a bit of equipment you could try out.
This will be another short vote period! Voting will close on 1/6 at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 7: 1. The bench is free. That’s pretty basic stuff, and probably where you’re most confident in showing off. 2. She’s got a leg press machine so you can destroy your legs like Yeri just did. Actually that would have been very convenient earlier… 3. (Picked:) Try your hand (and the rest of your body) at pilates! You don’t know what to do, but you’re sure to get a laugh! 4. You lied! You’re out of here! HA!
~~~~~
You point up at the pilates setup and Yeri laughs.
"Yeah! This will be great! You're totally the graceful type."
You're not sure if that's sarcasm you detect in her voice, but you shrug it off. Her laugh is what you wanted to hear and you're already successful in that.
"Oh of course," you say with a very false confidence, "You know they call me the pilates master? Because they do."
You step over and lift yourself onto the device. You grab a hold of it the same way Yeri did before. At least, you’re close. You're not exactly sure.
Very carefully, you step your way up the bars and find yourself horizontal. Then you go further and completely lose your sense of direction, though you think you might be upside down. The blood rushes to your ears but you still hear the sound of Yeri giggling across the room.
“You weren’t kidding. That’s a super advanced move.”
“Yup. I invented it,” you say, pretending to be sure of yourself despite the disorientation, “I call this move the Reverse Crab with Lion Splash. It’s really good for your kneecaps.”
Looking up, or down, or sideways, one of those directions, you see an upside down Yeri covering her mouth to attempt to hold in her snickering.
You complete your sort-of backflip, so that you’re facing the padded table below you, your knees caught on the middle bar. You can feel your hamstrings, back, and shoulders straining to keep from falling right then and there.
Yeri’s barely contained laughter bursts out. You didn’t think it was that funny, but she’s an odd person, so you’re not surprised. Until, that is, she says, “You’re just freeballing up there with those gymnastics huh?”
It hits you that the sight of your lubed up and mostly softened dick flopping around as you awkwardly twist your way around the bars probably is fairly humorous. And a bit embarrassing to match. You suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. And yet, you manage one last retort, “Uh yeah. Haven’t you heard of penilates?”
Yeri snorts and pats the floor. “You’re funny, you know that? I like it. Get back down here and I’ll show you how to do some basics if you really want to do pilates.”
Well, as long as she claims you’re funny.
You maneuver yourself out of the bars and drop off the rack. “Alright coach! What do I do?”
“First, come over here and lay down on your stomach. Put your hands to the sides like you’re going to do a pushup, but like, right under your shoulders.”
The lightly padded floor makes the action relatively comfortable. Yeri rolls on her hips so that she’s able to put a hand on the small of your back. A strangely comfortable chill runs up your spine at the feeling.
“Now push yourself up with your arms, but make sure your legs stay attached to the floor.”
You easily follow her instructions.
“Good!” she says cheerfully. She lifts your chin up, putting more of a stretching sensation on your chest. “Make sure you’re looking straight forward. This is called a Swan. It’s not a big deal, but it helps you with stretching out your core.”
“Yeah, I feel that for sure. I was expecting something a little more intense.”
“Most people are. Pilates is pretty easy though. Mostly.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the hard stuff?”
“Calm it down! We’ll get there. Probably not today though.”
“Aw, why not?”
“Because I’d like to do this with you and I can barely feel my legs.”
“Wow, I’m that good of a fuck?”
Yeri runs her hand over your butt. “Yup. It was all you and your sexual prowess and had nothing to do with anything else that happened since we got here.”
The two of you share a chuckle.
“So how long do I hold this?”
“About now would be good. For you, I’d say… do that for about thirty seconds at a time. And three times of course.”
“What if I normally only do two sets?” you ask as you lay yourself back on the floor.
She lightly smacks your ass. “Hey! What did we agree on about not calling me a liar!”
“Oh, sorry. I would never call you out for lying.”
“That’s… pretty much right. Now, up up!”
Once in your second Swan, you have a thought. “Hey, old reference at this point, but I’ve got a question about what you were talking about in The Lounge.”
“Shoot.”
“I asked why the three of you don’t just have sex with each other, and Seulgi said it was about wanting different things and being uncomfortable with it. So uh, have you tried to bite them before?”
“Oh god. Yeah, I tried that once or twice. Real good reactions out of all four of them.”
“Four?”
“Yup. Well, five. All five of us have tried having sex with each other. Still do sometimes, if we’re feeling desperate.”
“But you’re not into it?”
“Basically. Seulgi is in mad love with Wendy but she’s scared to admit it. Wendy is obsessed with Joy, but Joy is trying to convince herself that she’s straight. Irene and Wendy are both only interested in soft, nice sex, but they both want to be penetrated and can’t seem to get their act together with a double ended dildo. Seulgi wants to be a domme, but ever since Wendy was nearly murdered, she has to go easy on her hips. I’m totally into being dommed, but Seulgi is a wimp and when I talk back to her she gets all nervous and shit.”
You assume thirty seconds have passed, so you lower yourself to the floor again. You knew you would get some kind of explanation when you asked, but you weren’t expecting so much information. You think you may have already forgotten some of it.
Yeri keeps rambling, “Irene used to fuck Seulgi all the time, but during their sub unit promotions they got really busy with each other and I think they just kind of lost the mood, you know? Plus, now that Seulgi wants to explore her rougher side, Irene’s just not into it. Joy used to be the perfect fuck buddy for everybody because she was so good at accommodating everyone and enjoying it. Oh actually, she even did the pet play thing with me once! No clue what we were thinking though. I tried to be a puppy, but then I made a joke about Haetnim and that totally shut the whole thing down. And I’m pretty sure that it isn’t a healthy thing for Wendy, because of how hard she’s crushing for a quote unquote straight girl. But yeah, that’s the point with Joy. She’s claiming that she’s totally straight and started dating Cheungae, but I don’t know how long that’s going to-- Oh no, stay on your stomach.”
You had started to roll over after finishing your third Swan, but Yeri holds you back by your shoulder. “Next I’ll have you do a T.”
“A T? Like the letter T?”
“Exactly.”
“Is it like this?” You stick your arms straight out to either side and point your feet straight down, keeping your face on the floor.
Yeri laughs. “Basically, yes, but now pick your head, chest, arms, and legs up as far as you can, looking forward. Hold that for five seconds, five times.”
This move in particular is actually a bit harder, as it sounds like the only part of you meant to stay on the floor is your stomach.
“Sorry by the way. I rant on like a gossipy bitch sometimes. Was that too much information?”
The voting deadline for Part 8 will be 1/13 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 8 [IMPORTANT]: 1. “Well, it was maybe a bit much.” You can’t blame her for oversharing, but it’s no big deal. She seemed extremely eager to bring all that up, after all. 2. (Picked:) “Nope! In fact, tell me more!” Should you know all of this? No. Do you want to know more? Absolutely yes. 3. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t say so much.” It was pretty rude of her to say all of that stuff about her members’ personal relationships. Your question was much simpler than that.
~~~~~
"Nope! In fact, tell me more!"
Yeri chuckles. "Just as long as you don't spill any of what I tell you, alright? We could both get in some real trouble."
That's how secrets always work, right? You can keep the secrets and the non-secrets separate and never tell anyone anything that would be a problem, right? Yeah, no problem.
Right?
"Well, I don't think Joy's relationship is going to last much longer. She is trying really hard, but the strain is going to get to her. And one of our members is absolutely going to fuck her soon and restore the balance."
You snort, forcing you to put your hands and legs down. "Restore the balance? What is this, an epic fantasy novel?"
"You know what I mean! She's the perfect fucker or fuck toy for every member, and in the past, she's loved that. She told us so herself. But we've been together for years, so we know when she's not alright. About a month after she started dating Cheungae, she said she couldn't have sex anymore. And it's just been downhill from there. They're fucking each other, but she has said more than once that she misses fucking other people too."
"The things people do for the sake of relationships."
"Yeah, it's cute, but…" Yeri grips your ass cheek as you come out of your last T. "You know how freeing it is to not be in one."
You sigh, thinking for a second about something SinB told you. "Yup… but hey, has Joy talked to this guy about an open relationship? Or like some other kind of arrangement? Just taking a wild guess here, but I'd imagine any guy would die for a threesome with Joy and you."
"I offered. I heard from Wheein that Cheungae's got a dick the size of the DMZ, so I'm all for giving that a spin. Joy rejected the idea though."
"Damn, why?"
"Well Cheungae isn't the problem. Joy is. I don't know if it's selfishness or if she is just trying way too hard to make a normal relationship work, but she doesn't want to share, herself or her man."
"That sucks. I'm sorry."
"Ah, it's okay. Like I said, I don't think it'll last much longer. And as far as I'm concerned, I've got myself a solid replacement!"
"I'm not a commodity!"
"Sure, ho, sure." Yeri giggles and slaps your butt.
You reach between her legs and push a couple of fingers into her pussy. "Sounds like you're trying to get me mad."
"Why would I do that? You… degenerate sack of shit who can't even fuck the right hole?"
Suddenly, you hear the sound of Yeri's phone going off. It's Wendy's voice. "Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!"
Yeri scowls. "Hurry up and pound my twat into the core of the planet."
You hold in a laugh and push Yeri onto her back and climb on top of her. Your sweat mixes with hers as you press your bodies together. She’s not burning hot like before, but she’s still pretty warm, and there’s certainly fire in her eyes as she pulls you to her lips--
“Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!”
Yeri’s tongue invades your mouth forcefully. Your practiced cock finds its way into her with no trouble at all. There’s no hesitation from either one of you. She pulls you into her, and you--
“Are you ready for this? Zimzala-- Yeri! I’m calling you on the important line! Why aren’t you picking up?”
That doesn’t sound like a ringtone anymore. You pull away from Yeri’s kiss, but she suddenly sticks a finger against your cheek. “Don’t you dare stop. I don’t want to feel my legs.”
“Didn’t that already happen?” you ask, with no small amount of snark.
“Yeri? Are you still? Oh god. I’m sorry--” Static crackles through the speaker for a moment. “This must be really awkward for you.”
“Oh don’t mind me,” you say, “I’m just doing my job, apparently.” You back up just a bit and start thrusting hard and fast. Yeri’s breath gets pushed out of her with the force of the first one, but she quickly adjusts and matches your rhythm.
There’s a pause from Wendy. “O-okay. That’s good. I mean, wait! No! Yeri! Irene is on her way to pick you up to take you to the studio!”
“God- dammit- Wendy-” Yeri is having difficulty speaking, only managing to get a word or so out for each time you slam into her. “He’s so- fucking- good- Tell- her- to- wait!”
You could swear that you can hear Wendy blushing through the phone. “We can’t! You’ve got to record…”
“He doesn’t- care- about- spoilers!”
“I mean, I kind of do… How did the call start if we’re over here?”
“I had to install an app on her phone to automatically answer the call-- I mean, you’ve got to hurry and pack up! Irene is going to be there any second!”
Yeri whines in staccato, and is about to say something but is interrupted. And you’re suddenly forced to stop fucking her by a voice that chills your spine like being lost in a blizzard.
“Wendy’s right, Yeri. We’ve got to go.”
Looking to the side, you and Yeri both see Irene standing in the wide-open doorway. The lack of expression on her face is unnerving in a way you can’t accurately describe.
“Come on Irene, please! We can just record later! Just give us five more minutes!”
You feel like you could comment on the fact that Yeri sounds like she’s complaining to her mother to stay in bed, but Irene lifts her eyebrows a few millimeters and your motivation to make a joke is suddenly gone.
“Uuugh!” Yeri reluctantly, slowly, pushes you to the side.
Well, seems like that’s over with. But maybe you can convince Irene to let it not be over with… Or not. Hard to say.
The voting deadline for Part 9 will be 1/17 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 9: 1. Irene doesn’t scare you! Tell her you’re not done with Yeri yet! SM can wait for her! 2. Okay, Irene scares you. You should apologize and see yourself out of here. 3. (Picked:) Eh. No big deal. Yeri said that Irene is basically just the same as the other RV members.
~~~~~
You lean back against one of the vertical bars of the squat rack. The metal is very cold, making you flinch. But you play it cooler than the metal, propping your chin up on your wrist by putting your elbow on your knee.
“Hey Irene,” you say casually, as if you weren’t naked in front of one of the most powerful idols in the business, “How’s your morning so far?”
“It’s fine.” Irene is just as casual as you are. She seems more interested in watching as Yeri crawls around the gym on her arms, gathering clothes.
“So you have a new comeback soon, huh?”
Her eyes seem unfocused for a moment, as if she’d just spaced out.
“Oh. Yes,” she eventually says.
Irene’s not especially talkative, you surmise.
“Well, if the recording isn’t too urgent, you can hang out with us for a bit longer. I bet Yeri would be willing to share, assuming you were also wanting in on this situation.”
“Oooh, hey yeah. You want some Irene?” Yeri asks. A cheesy grin spreads across her face. “I got him all warmed up for you.”
Irene gestures softly at Yeri’s bra in the middle of the floor. Yeri rolls her eyes and reaches out for it.
“I appreciate the thought.”
You shrug and move to grab your own clothes. Putting them on feels gross considering the sweat and cum all over you. You resolve to take a shower as soon as you get home. “It was worth a shot.”
Yeri gets her sports bra back on and lets out a long sigh. “You sure though? My voice is a little fucked up right now. We could say I’m sick and that you’re just taking care of me like a good leader.”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
A woman of few words, this one.
With your legs fully functional, you’re able to finish dressing much quicker than Yeri, and approach Irene, giving her a standard bow. “Good to meet you, by the way. Sounds like you’ve already heard about me.”
“From Joy, yes.” Irene bows back to you. “Is it okay if I get your contact from Wendy?”
You blink in shock. That was easy enough. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.”
Irene nods, expression still inscrutable. “Do you prefer calls or texts?”
“Either works for me.”
Yeri pops in. “He’s not actually a prostitute you know.”
For the first time, Irene makes a face you can decipher. It seems to be a bit of minor, subtle shock. “Oh, so this…” She points back and forth between you and Yeri. “Was for…”
You finish for her after she pauses. “The hell of it, yeah.”
“I paid you in salmon bagels,” Yeri says.
“Well that and a free pilates lesson, sure.”
The tiniest smile curls up the corners of Irene’s lips. “How fun.”
It gets silent again, besides the sounds of Yeri huffing as she works to get her pants back on.  You nod quietly, unsure of how to respond.
Thankfully, Irene looks you in the eye and motions for you to come closer, which you do. While Yeri is occupied with pulling her hoodie back over her head, Irene leans in close to you and whispers into your ear, so quietly it takes you a moment to process what she’s saying.
“I heard you earlier. Stay away from Joy.”
You back off again, a little struck by what sounded like a very calm threat.
“I’m parked downstairs Yeri. No more than five minutes, okay?”
“Oh come on, you tell me that now?!”
Without another word, Irene turns and walks back out the door. You’re still a little stunned, watching the back of her head, when she looks back over her shoulder and gives you a coy smile and a wink. Your head swims with questions.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the now-closed door, but you’re snapped out of it by a loud smack on the back of your jeans, just below your ass. Yeri’s next to you, keeping herself upright with her hand on the wall. “A little help here?”
You look down and see her legs are shaking like leaves. “Oh shit, yeah, I’ve got you.”
Scooping your arm under hers, you support as much of her weight as you can on your shoulder. It feels like she’s mostly able to stay on her feet on her own, but she definitely wobbles a bit.
“You going to be okay?” you ask once you’re in the hallway.
“Oh totally! I’ll be able to walk... mostly normally once we’ve reached the studio. But you know how it is. Squat until your legs give out and then immediately get ass-fucked to an unexpected orgasm, and that’ll give you a few minutes worth of trouble.”
“That’s not actually a sensation I’m familiar with.”
“Who knows? Maybe Seulgi will get her domme act together and then you will be!”
You’re not so sure how you feel about that.
“Hey by the way. Irene was asking about getting your number, right? Can I get it now? Faster than getting it from Wendy since she’ll probably be out all day.”
This will be the last vote for Yexercise! *Wipes away tears* The deadline for this vote will be 1/23 at 12:00 UTC, at which point we’ll be talking on the Discord server about what’s next! Options for Part 10: 1. (Picked:) Of course she can have your number right away! You had fun, she had fun, you should have more fun! 2. Don’t let this crazy have your contact info. In fact, you should let Wendy know to give her a fake number…
~~~~~
You don’t even need to say anything. You pull out your phone, open your contacts, and hand it to Yeri. She puts her info in and sends herself some random gibberish in a text.
“Awesome!” she says, slipping the phone back into your pocket expertly as you make your way down the hall together, “No requests for sleazy pictures though. Can’t have anything getting out if something happens to your phone. Or mine.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t dream-- well, I would dream of it. But I won’t ask.”
Yeri giggles. “Ah, hey. The water’s right there. Wanna stop for just a second?”
At the machine, Yeri swipes her key card just like she did at the door to the gym. It only contains what you recognize as the cheap water brands, unsweetened tea, some dried fruit snacks in plain packaging, and a variety of protein bars. There’s no indicator for payment anywhere though.
“Perks of the personal, private gym?” you ask.
“Perks of the personal, private gym,” Yeri says.
A couple of water bottles are pushed out at arm’s height. Yeri hands one to you, takes the other for herself, and you both gulp down about half before continuing.
“I’ve got to say, I was expecting this to be one of those expensive waters. Blessed by monks, imported from Egypt, shit like that.”
Yeri smirks. “You know what they say. SM water tastes like water. No reason to spend wastefully.”
She finishes her water off, and you get to the stairwell. You think that three flights of stairs might be a little difficult at the moment, but fortunately there’s an elevator nearby you hadn’t noticed when you were following Yeri up earlier.
As you’re gradually taken to the ground floor, Yeri nudges your side. “If I ever share something juicy with you by the way, I expect at least five words in response. None of that ‘LOL’ followed by silence stuff.”
You laugh. “What if I can’t think of anything to say?”
“You can just bullshit an answer. No biggie.”
“What if my life is threatened because I know your gossip?”
“Your life, huh?”
“Well, not specifically. I just assume Irene will break every bone in my body. I guess I can live through that, right?”
“God, she better not be doing that again.”
You stare at Yeri. “Doing that again?”
“Making people uneasy. Point is, don’t worry about her. She’s just got a… uh, an unusual way of communicating, we’ll say.”
“Something like that, sure.”
Yeri puts her free hand on your chest. “She’ll warm up to you, I promise. I’ll put in a good word for you! As long as you do me one more favor.”
Anything to get a good word in to Irene so you don’t end up murdered. “What’s that?”
“Just give me one more, real good kiss in front of her. Right up next to the car window!”
You wrap your arms around her waist and shift Yeri so she’s in front of you. “Like this?” you ask, and half-lift her to your height. The moment your lips touch, you feel the elevator jerk to a stop and the door opens.
“Maybe a bit more than that, but I like where your head’s at.”
“It could be between your legs,” you say, mimicking Yeri’s seductive tone from earlier at The Lounge.
“Don’t tempt me like that!”
All smiles, you help Yeri feebly get outside. You spot a car with dark windows, where you can barely see Irene’s silhouette inside. It also happens to be the only car on the street, and Yeri easily confirms that it’s the correct one.
Yeri is thankfully able to stand on her own once you get to the passenger side. You open the door for her, but before she gets in, you spin her to face you and dive in for a real kiss. She moans and her arms wrap up under your shirt instantly, so you respond by sliding one hand down the back of her yoga pants. It should be right where Irene can see your fingers outlined through the fabric.
Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a reaction from Irene. You wonder what it will take to crack her neutral act.
“Mmm, even more than that next time, okay?” Yeri pulls away from you and turns to get into the car.
“Of course. I might charge you one extra water bottle next time though.”
“Uh-oh. I’ll be sure to save up for it.”
You laugh together before she sits down. You lean over to pop your head in after her. “See you next time then. And good to finally meet you Irene!”
Irene looks up at you from the book she was reading. “Hm? Oh yes, a pleasure.”
Yeri catches your gaze again. You can see the moment of sudden, unbridled thrill in her eyes, so you wait for her to say…“No Irene! The pleasure was mine!”
Her hand shoots up, and you meet it for an excellent, but questionably deserved high-five. Irene sighs heavily.
You laugh and back up again. “Nice one, Yeri. See you later.”
“See ya, ho!” Yeri shouts before closing the door. As is the case with Yerin, you’re pretty sure you’re stuck with nicknames like that from now on.
You wave the car goodbye and turn back around to make your way back home. You could use a shower.
THE END
~~~~~
Post-story notes:
Hey everybody! Thank you again for joining me for one of these crazy vote stories. I’ve really appreciated the participation, and I think we’ll be getting even more next time!
We’ll be discussing the subject and characters for the next story on the Discord. Suggestions so far include (forgive me if the capitalization is incorrect on these)… Dreamcatcher, WJSN, Mamamoo, Momoland, CLC, Oh My Girl, Lovelyz, more Gfriend, and Fromis_9! But nothing’s set in stone yet! Fill out the form in #announcements if you have even more suggestions to add to the hat.
As for when the next story starts, I’m going to say probably the first week of February. As you may have seen me mention, I’ll be writing some shorts just to spill some of my creative juices. On top of that, I quit my day job! Because I’m starting school! So exciting and nerve wracking! Given how stupidly stressful my day job was, I’m hoping I should be able to pump out stories a little more frequently moving forward.
The storyline unlocks from Yexercise are going to look pretty obvious: [Yeri - Workout buddy] [Yeri - Gossip girl]
And just like with Movie Night, here are some fun facts about unpicked options! At least one of you read these last time, and made a very astute observation about Sowon, so you’ll be getting your wish for that fairly soon.
Part 1. Picking Wendy or Seulgi would have (obviously) resulted in a different name for the story altogether! The names I had in mind weren’t finalized, but the top contenders were “Snow Day” for Wendy and “Dom-Flavored Pringles” for Seulgi.
Part 3. Yeri had two animals in mind for the pet-play: She could have been a cat or a cow. The option to be a puppy would have also been there, but she would have been skeptical about it given her history trying that with Joy.
Part 4. At first, I wasn’t planning on there being any anal in Part 6, but because the vote for Part 4 was SO close, I went back and changed my plans, just so y’all could get what you wanted. :P
Part 5. Again, just mentioning how close the vote was. I was very interested to see that for most of the voting period, the options to keep Yeri working out and to stop and just talk to her were neck and neck. I’m still feeling out what the best balance is between fluff and smut, and you guys are surprisingly wholesome!
Part 7. If you had chosen the leg workout, you’d have been too exhausted to help Yeri out of the gym, resulting in Irene rescheduling the recording session. She’d have stayed to hang out, and that would have blocked off the [Yeri - Gossip girl] storyline (which does have some smaller impact on the relationship with Irene moving forward as well, btw).
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pascalpanic · 3 years
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Caffeine Rush: Chapter Eight / Ristretto
W/C: 5.1k (holy shit)
Warnings: language, arguments and tears, lots of feelings, Javier learns how to talk his feelings out, SMUT 18+, dirty talk, open discussion of sexual themes, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected PIV sex, f e e l i n g a
A/N: I went off with this one. hope y’all like it too ;)
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Ristretto: espresso made with about half the amount of water but the same amount of coffee as a regular espresso. ristretto in Italian means "restricted," or that the amount of water used to brew the espresso is restricted.
Javier’s on the couch, lying down with his back to the living room. You’re not sure if he’s awake or not; you can’t really see his face. It doesn’t matter. You’re a little hurt by the fact that he left you in your sleep to rest alone on the couch again. You thought you heard the shower running late last night, while you tossed in your sleep, and it seems that it wasn’t just a dream. Javier’s thick hair is still damp, leaving a wet spot on the pillow beneath his head.
You move about the kitchen, getting something to eat, and he doesn’t stir. He must be asleep, you conclude. Wrapped in a robe and leaning against the counter, you consider what you’ll say to him when he wakes. When you’re not even sure what you’re feeling, it’s hard to decide on the proper thing to say.
Maybe he planned on coming back to your bed before you woke. Maybe you moved too much in your sleep. Whatever the reason is, you feel slighted and offended. The whole time he’s been here, you’ve worried he doesn’t like you as much as you like him. Hell, you’ve said you love him and he didn’t say it back.
The insecurity begins to wrap itself around you like the warm material you wear. It’s stifling. What you want most is to walk over to the couch and shake him awake, to chew him out and demand to know his reasoning. But you know it’s stupid. There’s surely a valid reason, and this isn’t even that big of a deal anyway. The conflict of anger towards him and towards yourself makes you give a little grunt of frustration before you stalk off and back to bed. Maybe he’ll come back.
Sleep isn’t coming back, no matter how hard you try. Tossing and turning, you find yourself laying on your back and staring at the ceiling, your sheets strewn around your body from your fitful attempt to sleep again. Maybe it’s been ten minutes; maybe it’s been an hour. Your body is far too worked up to sleep, even as your brain commands it to relax, as you remind yourself that you’re being irrational.
Footsteps come from the living room. Javier’s awake. For now, you try to fake being asleep, pulling the blankets around yourself and rolling onto your side, facing away from the door. The footsteps make their way to the bathroom then into your bedroom, walking over that creaky spot in the floor that makes the boards groan.
You think you can hear him getting dressed; the drawer of your dresser opens, the one with a squeaky wheel, the one you cleared for Javier to use while he stays here. There’s a rustling of clothes. He’s changing into something other than his pajamas. There’s a little light in the room, the early hours of a December morning filtering their dull glow through your curtain.
He must still think you’re asleep or he’d be talking to you, you hope. The movement stops for a moment before footsteps fall on the floor, making their way closer to your bed. He stops and looks down at you, watches your presumed sleeping form before he kisses your forehead softly. His lips are gentle against your skin. The tickle of his mustache makes you want to chuckle, to sit up and kiss him properly. But as quickly as he bends down, he’s just as quickly gone from your room, shutting the door behind him.
You sit up and groan in annoyance. You can hear the front door open and close, and with that, Javier is gone.
That irrational part of your brain is worried he’s leaving permanently. Why else would he slip out while you’re still asleep? He’s yet to go anywhere, really, without you showing him the way around here. Then your rational brain takes over: he left all of his belongings besides the clothes on his back and his wallet when he left the apartment. He’s surely not going to leave everything behind.
You’d planned to spend the day doing something with him. The two of you hadn’t exactly decided on what, but it was implied that since you aren’t working today, you’d spend the time with him. It’s still somewhat early, you roll over and groan as the alarm clock reads it to be 8:00 AM. There’s still time for him to come back; maybe he’s just getting the both of you coffee.
It’s pure boredom, like watching paint dry. You want him to come back. You want to ask him why he didn’t stay in your bed last night, why he left this morning. Why he’s been gone increasingly long. The clock in your kitchen ticks, ringing into the living room with its annoying precision. Each little click of the second hand makes you want to smash that damn thing.
The hours pass and pass until it’s late afternoon. You’ve done nothing all day, waiting for Javier to return. You debate several times whether or not you should start a task, but then conclude he’ll probably be back soon. So you wait, watching the daytime television, reading a book, washing dishes. It’s all menial tasks, and eventually it’s 4:00 PM when he returns.
When he opens the door, his eyes find yours and his face falls. “Hi.”
“Where the hell were you?” You ask, standing and walking to him, arms folded beneath your breasts. “I have been waiting around all day for you. You’ve been gone for how long and didn’t even call or tell me you were leaving.”
“I didn’t leave a note?” He asks, face showing his confusion. “I thought I left a note.”
“No, you didn’t, Javier,” you tell him sharply, voice snappy and quick. “Why were you gone all day?”
“I could’ve sworn I left a note,” he mutters, his eyes not meeting yours.
“Javi,” you snap. “Just… where were you?” He doesn’t look at you, but then he does and his eyes show the fear and terror of an ashamed child. He mutters something you can’t hear.
“So the man who’s never held back a single thought is silent?”
“Avoiding you!” He finally bursts, tearing off his jacket and walking into the kitchen. His back is to you, too flustered to even look at you. “You are driving me fucking crazy and you don’t even know it.”
The words break your heart. You freeze in place and feel heat pricking in your eyes. It’s your worst fear. “I am?”
Javier turns at the weak sound of your voice, the panic setting in his chest. “No, no, not like that.” He rushes over to you, putting a hand on each of your forearms. “No, hey, look at me, baby. That is not what I meant. Not…”
“Then what?” You ask, face hot and body nearly trembling. You’ve never heard Javier mad before and you hate it, hate the way his voice sounds when it’s laced with anger and hate it even more when you can feel guilt in his tone. “What other way is there?”
He’s quiet for a moment as he collects his thoughts, and you’re just about to twist out of his arms and slap his face before he speaks. “Your… body. You.”
“What?” You ask again, desperately confused.
“God, you don’t even get it,” he laughs and stands up straight again, running his hands through his hair. “Do you not see how fucking hot you are? Do you not feel the way I’m literally aching for you?” He walks towards the couch and you follow. You’re about to ask the same question again before he turns to you and bites his lip. “I cannot get my fucking mind off how hot you are and it’s making me go fucking insane, baby.” He takes one of your hands, kissing your knuckles. Anything more intimate would make him burst.
The words make your body flush with a different heat, one building in your core first. “And how is that?”
“Do you know why I’ve been sleeping on the couch?” He asks, sitting down on the couch and you follow him. You shake your head. “Because of how bad I want to fuck you. I knew if I got in that bed with you I’d get turned on against my own will, and… I’m a fucking coward. I should’ve asked what you want, what-”
You cut him off. “Ask me now, Javi. Do it.”
He breathes deeply then looks at you. “I don’t even know how to ask it.”
“Try it.”
Another deep breath. “Do you want to…. are you ready to…” he winces at himself. Javier is one of the most widely known playboys in Bogotá and yet he can’t bring himself to ask you this. He can’t pull out his seductive voice because it’s you and he doesn’t want to fuck this up. “What do you feel for me? Are you… attracted to me… sexually?”
Looking at him in his eyes, staring into the beautiful brown, you force your thoughts to converge into something you can verbalize into words. This isn’t what you wanted from the day, but you suppose this talk had to come. “Well, I… I love you, Javi. You know that, right?” You ask, cupping his face.
He takes your palm and kisses it, nodding. “But… I don’t know if you really know who I am if you think that I don’t want you. I thought I’ve made it abundantly clear. I’m not some innocent little virginal thing, Javi. I’ve been thinking the same thing about you. That whole thing has got to be in your head, because I am extremely attracted to you. You’re so fucking hot, truly. I haven’t initiated anything because I’ve been waiting for you to. I thought you would. Hell, I would’ve slept with you on the first date if I didn’t have work in the morning,” you chuckle, though it’s hard to be humorous now, with the weight of a sob stuck in your throat. “You should’ve just asked me.”
Javier nods as he listens to your words, processing and internalizing the meaning behind them. He should’ve, and he’s about to say it but you speak. “Now… please. Tell me what you feel for me. Don’t hold it back.”
He gulps and looks at your hand, still wrapped in both of his, collecting his own scattered thoughts. “Well… you know I haven’t had a committed relationship in what, ten years? And I left that woman at the altar.” You’ve heard this story. He told you in full detail, everything that happened with Lorraine. “Then I went to Colombia. I’ve… God, I’ve lost track of how many women I fucked. Just whoever’s there, you know? But I never got to have a relationship with any of them, because I… well, I was scared. I didn’t wanna fuck up again. And Colombia’s not the place to have a love life anyway, not when you’re a government gringo trying to take down the guy a lot of the people actually fucking liked at first.”
“Javi,” you remind him. “Please… about me.”
“Sorry,” he chuckles awkwardly. “I guess… I wanted to fuck you at first, but I forced myself to think that I didn’t want to, so I didn’t ruin it and feel like I did with all the girls back there. Maybe... it’s been a long time since I was quizzed on it, but wasn’t the psych term for it called projection? When you imagine someone else having your feelings so you can deny that they’re your own?”
You nod, leaning against him and setting your head on his shoulder.
“I’ll stop the spiel. I’m being a pretentious asshole with it. I think you’re really attractive and I’ve been getting sexually frustrated because I thought you didn’t want to fuck me. But… I guess you do.”
This lets a real laugh resonate from your chest. “I do,” you chuckle, nuzzling in closer. “So… why didn’t you stay in my bed last night?”
He groans. “Fuck. You were just so close. I could feel your body and I felt disgusting for thinking the things I did about you. God, you had my arm squished between your tits, and I could feel you through your panties and pajama shorts… ”
“Is that why I heard the shower?”
“I’m 40 goddamn years old, and you’re so fucking hot you made me get turned on just by cuddling up to me,” he chuckles and kisses your head. “Like a teenager. I tried a cold shower to get rid of it but I couldn’t. So I took care of things myself and went to the couch to sleep because I felt that I didn’t deserve to sleep next to you.”
His words melt your heart. “Big sexy manwhore was too afraid to seduce me?” you tease.
“It was two in the morning. And, like I said, projection,” he chuckles.
“We’re dating, right? Together. You’re allowed to think about me like that, Javi,” you remind him, turning his chin to look at you. “In fact, I want you to.”
You’ve finally broken his will. The words do something to him, the way you said it… I want you to. For the first time with you knowing, his mind wanders and his eyes trace from your face to the soft skin of your neck, to your collarbones and the swell of your breasts. “I can do that,” he murmurs, feeling a chill rush through his body.
God, you could moan at the sound of his voice alone. “You’ve been holding back this long,” you mutter back, hands finding his shoulders as you pull yourself to straddle him. “Let go, Javi. Please.”
He’s so fucking close to doing it. His willpower is hanging by a thread, but he wants to be certain. “You’re sure?”
“Please,” you ask, the desperation in your voice emphasized by the look in your eyes, the way your hips involuntarily rock against his. You’ve never had a man look at you with the hunger and the ferocity in Javier’s eyes. You’ve never driven a man to jerk off in the shower at the thought of you, and it gives you a feeling of power and confidence to know he wants you like this.
Within a split second, the power is no longer yours. Javier takes your lips against his, kissing you with a passion and a fire burning in his chest. It’s harsh and sloppy but perfect, and you immediately submit to his wishes, grinding down onto his lap and moaning into his lips.
You’re too damn perfect. Your lips against Javier’s make him moan helplessly, the way you tug on his bottom lip with a teasing nibble and moan again as his tongue pushes into your mouth. You break away to look at him, to admire how far gone he is just from getting to grind on you, like a teenager again. “Can I show you how much I want you, Javi?” You ask, letting your voice drop lower and your tongue dart out to clean your messy lips.
He groans, unable to form words. He nods frantically, and you smile a little. Giving him one last sloppy kiss, you stand from his lap and get on your knees in front of him. “Is this okay, baby?” you ask, your fingers already undoing his belt buckle and sliding it out.
“Fuck, yes,” he groans, and you can already see how hard he is through the jeans he wears. He helps you, unbuckling and unzipping the pants before lifting his hips to work them down to his knees, where he knows you can take them from there.
Daring to tug down the waistband of his boxers, you encircle his dick with your fingers and pull it out. You shudder at the sight, biting your lip and shifting your hips against the floor. He’s above average length, but the thickness makes you squirm in anticipation. “Javi,” you breathe, wetting your lips and gulping. You look up at him with big eyes. “You’re gonna make my jaw hurt,” you flirt, and the enthusiasm on your face makes him twitch in your hands.
It’s been a while since you’ve done this, but your excitement more than makes up for it. You reach up and undo the buttons of his shirt, while he lifts his hips again and wriggles his boxers off of his waist and thighs. Pushing the fabric aside, you’re exposed to a bit of pudge and his strong torso. God, is it awful that your first thought is to lick it? Who fucking cares, you think before you dive in, kissing his abdomen and tracing your tongue across the skin above his navel.
“You’re gonna fucking kill me, baby,” he grunts and his head falls back against the couch, eyes slipping shut.
The taste of his skin is everything you want and need, the slight saltiness from sweat making your own core ache harder. Your hands grip his sides as you lavish his stomach and abs with kisses and licks, desperate and unable to get enough. You nip at his soft stomach and he hisses out a sharp exhale. He likes that; noted.
“God, I fucking love you, Javi,” you groan and grab his thighs, spreading them further so you can squeeze closer between them.
“Fuck, you too,” he groans and bites his lip as you press kisses to the base of his shaft, then smother the base with kisses and licks. It feels good, but nowhere as good it would be if you- “oh, dulzura,” he grunts as you finally give attention to the tip, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin before swirling your tongue around it.
He lets himself lean back and enjoy it. He’s received a lot of head in his day, from a lot of women, but what makes this the best he’s ever fucking had is the adoration in your eyes, the look of mischief as you trace his frenulum with your tongue just to see him squirm. You’re enjoying it just as much and that’s half of it.
His fingers dig into your hair, his back arching when you do something different. The next time you pull away, he keeps your head back, off of him. “Your bed. Wanna fuck you, pretty girl, wanna make love to you.” Your face is desperate, yearning for him endlessly. “Make love to me later. Fuck me first.”
The words go to Javier’s already aching dick. He stands quickly, pulling you up with him and lifting your shirt, tossing it aside and letting his hands finally grab your breasts through your bra.
“Thought you said bed.”
“Give me a second. Take your pants off while I do this.”
“Do what- Javi!” Javier unclasps your bra, which buckles in the front, and shoves it off, desperate to see your tits. “Mm, fuck,” he murmurs, admiring the things that have been taunting him since he very first saw you. Javier’s fingers tug at your nipples, pulling them to their hardened state, before pressing your tits together and burying his face in them.
He returns the favor of you admiring his body, licking and nipping and kissing at the soft skin, kneading them with expert hands. You’re too in the moment, enraptured by the way he works your breasts, but you come back to consciousness for a moment and wriggle off your pants and panties like he asked.
His tongue is masterful, swirling and licking your sensitive nipples in a way that makes you ache to wonder what that same motion would feel like between your legs. The feeling is too good, Javier adoring your body and practically worshipping it. He breaks away with a face slick from his own spit on your breasts and smirks. “Now bed. Wanna see if you taste just as good somewhere else.”
“Fuck, Javi,” you groan and pull him into a heated kiss, frenzied and passionate. You break away but keep him close and walk him to your bedroom, flopping on your back on the bed and waiting for him to follow.
He does, getting on the bed’s edge and lying flat on his stomach, spreading your thighs and nestling between them. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper as you realize he’s going to return the favor.
His lips ghost along the soft skin of your inner thigh, sucking bruises into the flesh that make you squirm and moan. His hair is thick but so beautifully soft beneath your fingers, and you bury your hands in it as he gets closer to where you want him. “Please, Javi,” you murmur.
“Anything for you, abejita,” he chuckles and licks a hot stripe from your entrance to your clit, latching on the sensitive bud and swirling his tongue over it. “So wet,” he muses, your folds muffling the sounds. It translates to a vibration between your legs that makes you shiver again.
He takes his time with you, letting his mouth explore every little millimeter of the sensitive skin there. He laps through your folds, your own wetness and his spit making it painfully easy for it to glide through. Finally, when he brings his fingers into it, you make a groan of relief. His fingers trace your entrance, slowly, around the rim. Teasing. “Javi, if you made my jaw sore, you better get me ready down there,” you laugh, love drunk on this man, on Javier Peña and everything the man has to offer.
“‘m trying,” he murmurs, slowly slipping a finger in and marveling at the glide. “God, you’re so tight,” he shivers, his own hips rocking into the bed at the thought of his dick buried inside this. “Gonna take me so well, aren’t you?”
His finger curls softly, experimentally, and you know you’re in for it now when it immediately hits the spongy spot inside. “Holy- oh fuck, Javi,” you pant, one hand gripping the sheets. “Right there.”
Javier smirks. “I’ve barely done anything to you. Look at this.” He slips a second finger in and you groan again, your head falling back into the pillow and your back arching.
There’s the late afternoon sunlight coming in through the slats in your shades, falling onto your bare breasts and Javier’s muscular back. The light is fading, the December sunset already approaching. God, he looks so good doing this, all you can do is whine his name again and again.
It doesn’t take long once he has two fingers inside of you, working them against that perfect spot and bringing his lips back to praise your clit. He can feel your body tense, your thighs tighten around his head. God, you could probably crush him like this, maybe smother him, but he can’t think of a better way to go. This is how he wants to die someday: his head buried between your thighs, tasting the most divine thing his tongue has ever had the pleasure of meeting.
You come with little fanfare, but Javier can feel it in the way your body moves. Your thighs spread wider, shaking, and your pussy clenches around his fingers. Your back arches and the soft noises you’ve been making slowly dissipate as it all fades.
He works you through it then looks at you with a smirk, licking his lips and the bottom of that goddamn mustache. “That thing is fitting,” you tease, stroking his damp mustache. “You have a tongue like a damn porn star.”
“Then just wait until you feel what else I have for you,” he teases, crawling over you until his hands are on either side of your head. You laugh and reach up to kiss him, groaning at the taste of your own tang on his lips. He’s such a fantastic kisser. You could just make out with him for hours, admiring the softness of his lips even when they’re slightly chapped.
Reaching over blindly, you fumble for your nightstand and reach into the drawer to find a box of condoms. You have to break away, but you return to him with one and hold it up, grinning. He snatches it from you and steals one last kiss before tearing it open with his teeth, tossing the packet aside and rolling the condom down over himself.
Javi kisses you again, deeply. Meaningfully. “You sure about this, little bee?” He asks, voice blown with lust, painfully hard from denying himself sensation while eating you out.
“I haven’t wanted anyone more,” you smirk. “But remember what I said earlier?” You tease, cocking an eyebrow and tracing your fingers across his jaw.
“That you love me?” He asks, genuinely confused.
“That we can take our time later. Now I want you to fuck me, please, baby.”
The words send a shiver down his spine and he nods. “If that’s what you want. I… I won’t hold back.”
“Give me your worst,” you smirk and kiss him hard.
He wastes no time. He lines himself up to your entrance and pushes in, burying himself to the base and grimacing at how good it feels, how much effort it takes for him not to lose it. He takes a minute, taking deep breaths. “You feel okay?”
He’s thick. There’s no denying it. Even with his fingers before, this is a different stretch. It’s aching but in a good way, in a way that makes you desperate to feel it. “Feel so fucking good already,” you admit, kissing his neck.
Once he’s ready, he begins. He starts with a rhythm that already makes you lose your senses, desperately clinging to the only thing you can think of or feel: him. His dick is large, and presses against just the spot that made you lose it minutes ago. His thrusts are not gentle, but rough and grinding. You can’t get enough.
His pace picks up. His hips snap into yours, moving a thick thumb to circle your sensitive clit with the pad of his finger. “You feel so fucking good, lil’ bee,” he breathes. His Texan accent from his upbringing is more present when he’s sleepy, you’ve noticed, but also when he’s extra turned on. Fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard.
“God, fuck,” you whine and cling to him, wrapping a leg around his waist and crying out as that allows him to get even deeper inside of you. “Javier, please baby,” you mutter, your hands frantically grabbing at his muscular back.
“You got it,” he grunts, each syllable in time with a thrust that pushes into you deeper and deeper. Your nails dig into his back unintentionally and he whines at the feeling, the pain and pleasure mingling perfectly. “Fuck, pretty girl. So fuckin’ good, taking me so perfectly. Like you were meant for this, huh?”
Whatever sense you have left agrees. You must’ve been. The universe put you two together in a surprising way so that you could feel this heavenly joining of bodies, so you can make each other see the farthest stars in the galaxy. “Yeah, oh Christ, Javi,” you groan as his fingers work in the opposite direction on your clit. “Harder, please.”
“I’ll try,” he chuckles dryly, wrapping your other leg around his waist. The position keeps him connected to you even when his thrusts nearly pull him fully out of you. “You like that?”
“Fucking love it, Javi,” you nod and grind your hips back against him and his hand. The friction makes him hiss, desperate for anything you’ll give. “Think I’m close. Think I’m gonna- oh,” you whimper, leaning up to grab his face and pull it down to yours.
He knows you’re coming quick. His lips remain on yours, determined to feel it when it happens. And it does fast- before long, you’re clamping down on him like a fucking vise and you make the prettiest little sounds into his mouth, muffled by his wandering tongue. He groans back, your thoughts passing through mouths rather than ears.
“Good girl,” he groans next to your ear. “Fuck. You make me feel so fucking good, knew you would.” He thrusts harder, and you’re becoming oversensitive but you couldn’t care less. He’s made this all about your pleasure, and he deserves to use you now.
The corners of your eyes prick with overstimulation. “Javi, baby, wanna feel you when you cum,” you beg of him. You dig your nails into his back and it’s the final straw- his hips slow and stutter as he shoots his load into the condom, moaning your name again and again.
When he comes down, he nearly collapses on you, his body like lead as the adrenaline works its way through his veins. He’s all fucked out, exhausted from how long he held back to pleasure you as much as he could. “Mm, baby,” you giggle, digging your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. His face is nestled into your neck and you smile, kissing his temple. He makes a soft noise of content. “Don’t fall asleep or the condom is gonna stick to your penis,” you tease lovingly.
With a groan, Javier sits back on his heels. He makes his way to the bathroom and tosses it in the trash, then gets a warm washcloth to wipe you down with. He takes good care of you, leaving kisses behind the warm water-soaked fabric. He finishes with a kiss on your lips that makes you giggle.
“You’re too good to me. What happened to the slut of Bogotá I’ve heard about?”
“He died with Escobar, maybe?” He chuckles, returning to your bed with you. “Or maybe I forgot to pack him. I don’t know.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you chuckle. “I absolutely adore this one.” You snuggle into his side, against his flushed and tacky skin.
He kisses your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then your lips. “You really are something, abejita.”
“You know, you’re allowed to call me babe and baby too,” you tease softly, your voice barely a whisper with Javier’s face next to yours.
“Those are generic. Little bee is ours.”
His words melt your heart, making your eyes slip shut and your lips curve into a smile in content. You rest your head on his chest and take a deep sigh.
“I really want to fall asleep, but it’s only 5:15,” Javier sighs.
“How about dinner? Are you hungry?” You ask, tracing your fingers across his soft abdomen and gentle tummy.
He thinks for a second. “How about we get delivery?”
“You read my mind, Peña,” you chuckle and place a soft kiss on his pec. “I love you.”
He takes a deep breath, forces all of the fear to leave his body with the carbon dioxide. “I love you too, abejita.”
-
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195 notes · View notes
toruvi · 2 years
Note
HONEY … HONEY…
HONEY!!!
THAT LAST LITTLE TJING YPU JAUT WROTE JUST MADE ME SO HOT AND BOTHERED BUT ALSO SO SOFT AJD TENDER AND ALL I WANT IS TO GIVE LEVI ALL THE LOVE HE DESRVES NOW AHAJJSJXMCAKSKKCFKLWOS
have mercy on me please but also keep writing Levi giving and asking us for all of his love and ours until my brain just short circuits and my body combusts from imagining those little scenarios cause holy hell, I can’t think whenever I’m reading your little smexy scenes and now I can’t get the image out of my head of him just marking every possible inch of your body and then kissing them to ease the little inflammation he causes because he doesn’t want it to hurt you but little does he know it drives you insane how slow and gentle he’s being and just … omfggg …
you can’t do this to me on this day cause I am so far gone for this man 😩😩 I can’t take it, I need him to be real right now !!! I just wanna give him all my love and all the kisses and all the touches cause we all know the man is touch starved and is the one person who truly deserves it all especially during intimate moments like this!!
lordie lord, I am not okay 🥲 I love this man too much 😭😭
PLEASE ALEX IM DYING TOO I CANT EVEN WRITE STORIES WITH PLOT RN ALL I CAN DO IS SNIPPETS OF SMUT 🥲🥲🥲🥲
Anyways here u go have another random stream of my consciousness:
"L-Levi please you're..."
He opens his eyes, head buried between your legs with his mouth pressed against your inner thigh, pausing mid-kiss to acknowledge you.
His lips leave you, instead the side of his face rubs gently against your skin.
"That tickles, you always do that."
"Do what?" He blinks, genuinely confused as he returns to kissing the mark he left behind.
"That!" You shudder under the touch, wiggling your legs and a hint of a smirk creeps up on his face. "You don't have to do it so lightly like that it tickles!" Your giggle only prompts him to keep going just to tease you.
He actually didn't mean to that time, but then it turns into a whole habit with the purpose to get you giggling. He likes the sound of it, and how you squirm under his touch. Especially favors the way your giggling is interrupted but a gratuitous groan when he ventures closer and closer to your center. And when your legs wrap around his head to lock him in he takes that as permission to keep going.
28 notes · View notes
spiltscribbles · 3 years
Text
Worth It
~Notes: Oof, I know I have so many prompts in my inbox and I appreciate them so much! But I wanted to write something after dinner in dedication and a gift to the lovely Remus-John-Lupin!!!!!!!<3<3<3 I love you RJ and I appreciate you and your friendship so fucking much, so this is just a strange little gift from me to you in thanks for how kind you’ve always been to me since I joined this crazy fandom, ILY and you’re my favorite slag!!!!
.-
Sirius silently reminds himself that he in fact likes Lily, he thinks she’s a total knock out and is happy that his brother is finally getting to date the girl of his dreams. He likes her damn it,! And one does not commit battery to folks that they like.
Assured that his pure irritation won’t bleed through his words, Sirius tries again in his most charming of inflections. “All I want is his number.”
“No,” she repeats, casually steadfast while poking at her salad— Not even bothering to flick her gaze up at an increasingly irate Sirius.
“Why are you being so fucking difficult!”
“Why are you still bitching about this,” she counters, finally giving him her undivided attention, even if it’s her glaring at him like she’d like to skewer Sirius on a stick.
“Hey guys, let’s chill.” James tries to mediate, laughing awkwardly between the pair of them, hand raised in concession and glasses going a bit skewed.
They promptly ignore him.
“I like him. What is so difficult to understand Evans? Aren’t you like supposed to be some brainiac or some shit?”
“It’s been like two months Black,” she says pointedly, grip on her fork tightening while her mouth curls unpleasantly. “That’s way past your ordinary infatuations, so why the hell do you still even care.”
Sirius bares his teeth, pinning her with a glower that once made an old school yard bully of Regulus’s actually piss his pants. So of course Lily doesn’t even flinch. “He’s cute.”
“You’re a dog.”
“You’re being a total ass.”
“And you’re a bastard.”
“But you love me though.”
“Just barely.”
“So you’ll give me Remus’s number?”
“Dream on.” she says with a lofty sniff and haughty flip of the hair, discarding her barely eaten lunch before swaggering over to where a group of her friends from the STEM club are sat, including Alice Flores and Dorcas Meadowes. 
“Guess you’re back to square one Pads.” James says, unhelpful as fuck, so Sirius only flips him off before snatching back his calculus homework from a pitiful looking Peter.
“Fuck this.”
.-
Sirius thinks of himself as a reasonable sort of guy.
He isn’t one for holding grudges or obsessing over perceived slights. He’s brilliant whether he’s playing linebacker on the field or taking a exam in class.
For fuck’s sake, Sirius  can be plumped down in any and all social situations without warning, and can have the room eating out the palm of his hand within the first five minutes.
In layman’s terms, he’s decent and driven and downright charismatic. Mix this all together, and well Sirius thinks he’s a pretty fantastic fucking package— if he does say so himself. He can have his pick of the lot, truly. Especially when walking down the halls flocked by his best friend turned second brother on one end and little Petey, who’s a great hype man, on the other. So its only poetic justice that the one person who’s been able to swallow up all his attention is the one person who doesn’t even give him a second glance most days.
And that’s fucking ridiculous.
This is ridiculous! He is fucking ridiculous! No, record scratch. Remus fucking Lupin is the most ridiculous part of this all!
Remus lupin with his delightfully disheveled hair the color of gold and his crooked grin that’s everything darling in the world, and his big doe eyes that sometimes flare with green specs when he’s especially passionate in class or when he’s chatting with Lily in the halls. Remus lupin who’s only just moved here to Murray Hill from a small town in southern Illinois and who toppled Sirius’s world upside-down while he was at it. 
The first time they met was completely on accident.
It was the week before classes began, and Sirius had only just come back from his family trip to their villa in Rome, and he was only meant to meet James at the coffee shop that Lily was working at now. They were suppose to head to the city and go out drinking to celebrate the start of their senior year.  Sirius was suppose to find a nice, college aged girl to fuck because he’s given up on the boring lot that infests Hogwarts these days. It was suppose to be easy and fun and he was suppose to stay stringless and unattached as ever.
But that didn’t happen.
Instead, Sirius walked into the Howling Moon  and was met by the sight of the most lovely, most gorgeous boy he’s ever met. Hand to God, it felt like one of those slow motion moments in a Romantic Comedy when the disgruntled, wayward lead first sets their eyes on that love interest— the one to out shine all others, the one  who turns everything inside out and makes it all glitter gold.
“Hey there,” Remus had grinned like the fucking sun, slipping the pen from his ear and hand poised over the cups lining the counter. “What can I get ya?”
“Oh, erm— Yeah. Just a caramel macchiato, iced.”Sirius’s ordinarily smooth baritone almost fucking cracked while ordering, and Remus’s beautiful eyes had glittered.
“Would’ve taken you for a dark roast sort of guy.” He said, and Sirius swears that it was playful and flirtatious and a little mischievous too. 
Sirius was in love.
“I’ve been known to partake in sweets, you know, if they catch my eye,” he replied, eyes lingering meaningfully up and down Remus’s slighter frame.
“What a come on,” Remus had laughed, head thrown back to show off his long neck and Sirius was so fucking gobsmacked at how it quite literally sounded like all the most splendid instruments woven together.
He had ducked his head, so unordinary bashful but so beyond pleased. “What can I say beautiful, you bring it out of me.”
“”Cute.” Remus had chuckled, cheeks going a fetching red and scribbling down the order. “Definitely one of the more interesting one liners I’ve gotten today.”
Sirius ignored the flare of jealousy over that, considering that he hasn’t gotten to even kiss him yet, and he should probably take this slow if he doesn’t want to screw it up. “Has anyone of those bastards mentioned how your eyes put the brownies on sale to shame?”
“No one as hot as you if I’m being honest,” Remus retorted, ringing him up and sinking his teeth into his plump bottom lip. And fuck, Sirius knew he was in trouble from then on.
They had talked for over half an hour about nothing at all in that tiny bistro while Remus was busy exchanging the coffee pots for a fresh batch and rearranging the baked goods, and it was amazing.
 Sirius has always been someone who couldn’t sit still, who had to be fluttering all over the place to feel like he was actually headed somewhere, like he was getting something finished. But for the first time in too long, just sitting there, still and silent and besotted while Remus chatted about his hometown and moving half way across the country and his eccentric mother— Well Sirius felt completely balanced, completely calm. He felt like just as long as Remus was their chatting with him and smiling in that beguiling way of his, that Sirius could actually breathe without pressure. Like he knew what it meant to have a center.
So of course, right when he decided that he was going to snatch him up— to ask him out on a date before anyone else from their shitty class filled with degenerates and dick heads could— Lily of all people  had swaggered in, and gave him a caustic sort of glower that plainly said, keep the fuck away.
Ordinarily Sirius would’ve completely ignored her warning, would’ve unashamedly and excitedly chased after the cutest fucking boy he’s ever laid his eyes on with an absurd sort of zeal. But he under estimated just how much sway Lily was able to cater with Remus in the few weeks they worked with one another before he had met him. So instead of starting off the year with a brand new, insanely pretty boyfriend wrapped around one arm, Sirius has just spent the past nine weeks pining like a fucking love sick loser. Like he was starring in some cheesy John Hughes movie from the damn 80s!
And this will not do, this is not all right, not okay at all.
Sirius needs to figure out a way to get close to Remus, and outside of Lily’s overbearing claws. Something that only Remus likes, that Sirius can partake in to prove himself worthy.
As he promenades down the hall towards his free period, Sirius creates a mental check list of the things he knows Remus enjoys.
Remus enjoys poetry, and Sirius knows that he’s part of the school’s award winning Forensics team. But they meet during the football practices so Sirius couldn’t even try to impress him in that arena until the spring. He also knows that Remus likes history, that he’s going to end up majoring in classics in University, but Sirius really doubts his ability to memorize the Iliad in the matter of a few hours— He’s good, but not that good.
“Jesus fuck is this hard,” he mutters nastily to himself, tugging at the ends of his dark hair before ramming straight into a display outside the southern wing of their preparatory school’s building.
He winces, not so much for the throbbing in his toes, but because of Marlene’s snappish attitude when he makes it so that the table shakes.
“Keep your head out your ass Black,” she scolds before going back to filing her nails. And Sirius is about to snipe right back at her— That is until he catches on the bright poster adorned with small rainbows and the words, GSA FOOD DRIVE spelt out in large lettering.
And oh!
“Eureka!”
“Pardon?” Marlene asks, nose wrinkled indelicately as she eyes him like he’s about to puke on her brand new Doc Martens again like last weekend. Holy shit, she should really get over it by now.
But Sirius is smart enough and tactful enough not to mention his thoughts on the matter, only smiles down at her with pure elation. “Marls, what if I said I had a brilliant idea to help our lovely GSA.”
“I’d accuse you to only doing it to try and get in Lupin’s pants since he’s our new VP.”
Sirius grapples for his chest, feigning indignant. “You pain me my old friend.”
Marlene snorts. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“That’s neither here nor there.”
“So are your chances with Lupin.”
“You’re a sick fuck McKinnon.”
“What do you want from me you gnat.”
“Let me help with the fundraiser.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“I’ll tell Lily to get Meadowes to notice you?”
Marlene glares at him now. “We’ve been fucking for like a month you prick.”
“Oh— Erm, then for some of that good old Bi unity?”
Marlene suddenly looks so very shrewd and Sirius hates how every fucking woman in his life could eat him whole for breakfast. “Absolutely not.”
“Fine, what the fuck do you want.”
“You cover Fabian’s costs for the goods  when we go to that rave for 2KBABY in January.”
“Eh, didn’t you guys use to fuck?”
“Yes. But I don’t see the connection?”
“He won’t even give you a discount on the good shit?”
“Oh he does,” she leers, blue eyes glinting wickedly in the hallway light. “But I’d rather see you pay full price for’m.”
Sirius glares down at her, and repeats himself.  “You. Are. A. Sick. Fuck.”
Marlene just lies back in her seat and returns to manicuring her nails. “Well if cheekbones isn’t worth the bother?”
“Fine,” Sirius all but growls out. “But we do this my way.”
“Scout’s honor handsome,” she absolutely beams, and Sirius reminds himself that this is all for Remus and that’s worth it at the end of the day.
.-
It’s a week later, right before Thanksgiving break hits, and Sirius is sat in front of the cafeteria, smirking at the line of mostly pink faced girls and a few others amongst their midst, who have all queued up in front of him. A dollar in each of their hands, though he does see that a few have fives and even tens or more, and he doesn’t know how to subtly tell them that all he’s promising is a quick peck of his lips, and absolutely no other groping— including of his legendary ass or admittedly perfect abs.
“You’re just really enjoying yourself, aren’t you.” James hisses besides him after the latest girl— a blonde sophomore who’s decked out in Lulu Lemon for their only non uniform day of the week— scurries off. “Just a ego trip.”
“Jealous Jamie darling?” Sirius boasts, tipping back on his chair while Marlene collects the cash from the next five in line so that they can clammer closer towards him.
“I can’t believe all of them want to kiss you,” Peter marvels, round eyes completely in aw. 
“I can’t believe you think this is how to get Remus’s attention,” Lily interjects huffily, lips set in a moody pout while perched on James’s lap to Sirius’s left.
“I bet you would’ve been in line if you weren’t dating Jamie here.” Sirius counters, smug as all get out, and laughing when all Lily deigns as a adequate response is her middle finger.
Sirius is on cloud nine. He can’t believe he didn’t think of this sooner! Remus loves all this shit, from the club to the charity. This is perfect! This basically guarantees that he’ll finally get a good smooch on him. And once their lips finally  touch, Remus will surely feel the swarm of butterflies in his gut just like in those Harleyquin romance novels his cousin Narcissa would always read with a dreamy look on her face during their various Family vacations.
“You’re not gonna get him this way.”
“He’s not gonna know what hit’m Evans,” Sirius retorts, completely self assured.
.-
One should never bet against Lily Marie Evans.
Sirius knows this now. But he still hates it with the passion of a thousand burning suns.
By the end of the lunch hour, Sirius’s earned over sixty bucks to the GSA’s fundraiser fund, and absolutely zero potential boyfriends who look like golden angels and make Sirius’s knees weak.
“I told you,” Lily says in that sing-song sort of voice that is so not appreciated right now. “Remus is not the type to kiss you in front of a huge crowd and after like a bunch of others. That’s not his style.”
Sirius is moody as all get out, and he’s irritated that he’s just wasted five dozen perfectly fine kisses on folks who aren’t Remus, so he doesn’t bother to hide his irritation when he gripes back at her, “Then tell me what the fuck is his style.”
Miraculously, that actually proved enough to get Lily to slow down her stroll, and cock her head curiously at him. “You actually care.”
“What the fuck have I been trying to tell you Evans!” He nearly shouts.
“I just thought— You know. That it was a game.”
Sirius’s face goes stoney, and he juts his chin away from her. “It’s not always a fucking game, all right. It’s not a game with him— I like him. I like Remus.”
“Oh,” Lily says very quietly, her face pulled in a thousand different directions before settling on something akin to solemn. “You should go to the music room for your free period today.”
Sirius quirks a brow at her, frowning while he asks, “Why?”
“Just trust me S,” she says, reaching over her hand to squeeze his forearm.
Sirius watches her walk off, hand in hand with James, and he feels a strange twisting to his heart when he imagines a very similar image— only with him and Remus and punctuated by plenty of kisses to the cheek, and jawline and lips too.
.-
The music room is towards the back of the school, in a separate building along with the theatre and main auditorium.
The early autumnal chill lashes against Sirius’s face while he makes the track to the room, continuously chanting to himself that he actually trusts Lily and this is gonna be worth it if there’s a merciful God up there.
Once Sirius clammers in doors, he rubs his cold hands together, and shakes out his hair. 
The first thing he hears is the soft strumming of a guitar, and finds himself in front of the music room after following its melodic toon. 
Through the window he can spot the form of Remus bent over the instrument, his thick curls getting in his eyes and his steady hands plucking a few chords as he sits cross legged atop the piano.
Sirius feels his heart lodging in his throat at the sight of him, so beautiful and perfect and warm looking in that scarlet sweater. And he knows in his bones that this is some sort of unspoken blessing that Lily’s given him, so with a deep breath, Sirius opens the door and strolls in.
Remus starts slightly, going flushed once his eyes catch on Sirius’s own.
“Oh Sirius,” he greets, the corners of his mouth tipping into a smile that doesn’t ring true. “You pulled away from the haram?”
“That’s a bit much? Calling them a haram,” Sirius says cooly, hitching up besides him and swinging his long legs. “I just did it to help you.”
“Oh— Yeah,” Remus nods. “The GSA appreciates all the help we can get.”  His words are quiet, and he’s rinsing a hand through his curls, so Sirius can tell that he’s a bit nervous. And it’s impossibly cute, but also not on. He doubts that he’ll ever get his kiss if Remus won’t even look at him in the eyes.
Gingerly, Sirius sets the pad of his pointer finger beneath Remus’s chin, lifting his gaze upwards. “Not the GSA— Though I appreciate the club’s work and your part in that.”
“Oh,” Remus says again, lips pursed and his throat pulsing when he swallows down. “Then—“
“I did it for you Remus,” Sirius repeats heatedly. “I did it because I’ve been mad for you since ever meeting you in August, and I can’t get your fucking face or name or lips or ass out of my head. And I thought that if maybe I pulled a dumb stunt like that, you would actually kiss me along with the lot of those idiots who can’t even hold a candle to you.”
“M—My ass?” Remus questions, voice going pitchy and face bright with emotion. 
Sirius laughs, booming and bombastic. “You have the best ass I’ve ever seen Remus Lupin and it’s really obscene.”
Remus shoulder checks him, looking down and then back up through his lashes at Sirius and it’s a sight Sirius wish he can keep with him for the rest of his days.
“So you thought I’d want our first kiss to happen after you’ve just made out with half the school?” 
Sirius grimaces, bending down so that their lips are only inches apart. “Listen, I can be a complete dumb ass on occasion.”
“Don’t forget arrogant.”
“Okay, fair.”
“And brash too.”
“Right.”
“Also you tend—“
Sirius places a soft hand over Remus’s supple lips, glaring teasingly at the other boy, who’s grinning like the cat who’s caught the canary, his eyes teeming with laughter. 
Remus Lupin is going to be the death of  him, Sirius knows it.
“Listen Lupin, I’d like a shred of self respect here, so I can actually muster up the courage to ask you out on a proper date already.”
Remus perks at that, so Sirius moves his grasp.
 “You wanna ask me out?”
“Depends…. You wanna continue that little rant until I’m blue balled and  gutless.”
“Hmm,” Remus inches closer, setting his hand over Sirius’s on the piano. “Nah, I think I’d rather do this.”
He leans forwards and Sirius barely has enough time to gather his bearings when he feels Remus’s mouth over his own and it’s literally every starlit promise and sugar burnt secret and sunlit afternoon all rolled into one. And Sirius feels his heart thud an uneven staccato when he grabs for either end of Remus’s waistline and plunges his tongue into his own and he lets himself get lost in the overwhelming feeling of it all.
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beskarhearts · 3 years
Text
Three Times (Din Djarin x reader)
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Connection series Pt. 10
Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader (no use of Y/N)
Warnings: cursing, sexual tension (I think that’s it but let me know if I missed any)
Word count: just over 9.0 K
Summary: It’s now been three times that Din Djarin has almost kissed you and you are going insane.
Notes: I did not plan on this coming out any time soon but I’ve spent all day ignoring my responsibilities and writing this. And I am too excited to wait so surprise shawty! Please please please tell me what you all think!
Previous Part ____ Next Part
_______________________________________________
Being back with Din and the child was the biggest relief, especially now that there were no secrets.
For the first time in a long time, you felt good. Like truly good. You had accepted what you were and made a compromise: you didn’t have the proper training to be a Jedi, nor did you know if you were ready for that, but if you needed to use the Force to protect your family, you could be okay with that. Din had reasoned it was no different than him using his armor, which you supposed in some way was technically true. 
You also felt more at peace than you had since your family passed away. Being able to properly say goodbye to your family on Jakku, and able to share fond memories with Din, had been exactly what your soul needed. You had also realized when you were there that you could feel that your family was always with you. They were part of the Force now, meaning they were always there. So every-time you felt joy, you no longer felt guilt nagging at you because they were there with you, seeing it.
Now you were with your family and you don’t think you’d ever been quite so happy. You and Din left Jakku and things were back to normal. But it was even better because now there was no wall up between you and the Mandalorian. He accepted who you were and you accepted who he was. 
It had been a few days since you were reunited with Din and everything was perfect. Well, almost perfect.
There seemed to be only one problem: Din Djarin was driving you crazy. 
When it first happened, you thought maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe making up false fantasies in your head and projecting them onto Din. All just a figment of your imagination.
Then it happened again.
And again.
And you were completely sure that you were not nuts or looking into anything. It couldn’t be a coincidence when it happened three damn times within the span of a few days. It had to be purposeful. Din wasn’t accidentally doing this. And now, you felt like you were constantly on the edge of your seat, waiting for some big climax that wasn’t happening, for reasons unbeknownst to you.
So you were left with one question.
Why the hell had Din Djarin almost kissed you three times but never actually done it?
___________________
The First Time
Din and you now had a new routine. Every night at dinner, you’d feed the child first and then get him to hang out in his hover pram afterwards, keeping him occupied with a toy until he drifted into a small nap. Then Din would come down to the hull and you’d sit together on the floor of it. Din would insist you eat first so you’d do so. Once you were done, the kid would usually be asleep and you’d close the lid to his pram before Din handed you the scarf he always had wrapped around his neck. You’d take a seat across from him, wrap the fabric around your eyes, and then he’d eat.
It had been a long time since you’ve shared a meal with someone regularly. And you would guess that Din probably had never done so, or at least not on a regular basis. And sure, it wasn’t normal and the helmet made it more complicated, but it was the closest to normal you could get. So you were fine with it. Loved it even. It was one of your favorite parts of the day. Din now got to enjoy at least one meal a day, eating it normally rather than hiding away to do so and scarfing it down as quickly as possible. In return for wearing the blindfold, you got to the hear his voice which you still swore was one of your favorite noises in the world. Sometimes he wouldn’t even be talking but you could hear his breathing, a small hum leave his lips, or something small like that and it felt like a gift.
Tonight was no different. The child was in his pram, your blindfold was on, and Din was eating away at the portions you had. Not the most amazing meal, but it made it better being with him. You sat with your back against the wall, Din next to you eating. His thighs were touching yours, shoulders crammed together, but he didn’t move and you didn’t mind the contact so nor did you.
“You smell nice.”
You felt your eyebrows quirk up at the random compliment. You two had been relatively quite tonight, just enjoying each other’s presence. This was the first thing he had said in a while and you couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. “What?”
“Sorry.” You heard the sheepish edge to his tone and you blindly reached a hand out, patting his knee reassuringly.
“Oh no, please continue.” You said with a smile and heard a huff.
“You are teasing me.”
You paused and suddenly felt a little rude. He was being nice. That was a good compliment. I mean, you never really took much interest in your own scent but you had noticed how Din smelled. It was earthy and warm and dusted in cinnamon. “You smell nice, too.”
You heard Din snort at that. “Okay.” He sarcastically said and you let out a scoff.
“I’m not just saying that! You do. You smell nice. Like cinnamon and wood and manly stuff.”
“Manly stuff?” You felt yourself flush as he repeated your own words but you just nodded your head, hopefully aiming yourself towards his face.
“Yeah. But good manly stuff.”
“Hmmm.” You heard Din hum. “You smell clean.”
“Thank... you?”
“It’s nice. Like fresh laundry.” You heard him take a bite before continuing, “And honey.”
You smiled warmly at his description. You don’t know if you ever realized that but it warmed your heart to hear Din say it, in some weird way. “Well thank you.”
Din was quiet for a while but you didn’t hear him take anymore bites. It was just complete silence and if it weren’t for his body pressed against your side, you would of been convinced he wasn’t there. You went to say something until you heard him speak. “You look nice too.”
A warm feeling filled in your chest at the words. The compliment was so inherently Din: short and to the point with a bit of that endearing awkwardness that he had sometimes from lack of experience with others. You knew you were smiling stupidly and your face felt flushed, though you hoped it was covered enough by the blindfold for Din to not notice. You brought your hands together, your fingers twirling together as you awkwardly chuckled. You didn’t know what to say so you just settled on a small, “Thank you.”
“You have a nice smile. It’s big and bright, like you.” You were about to say something but he continued on before you had the chance. “And I like the way your hair feels. It’s soft.”
You were feeling yourself get more and more flustered as he continued. You weren’t used to a lot of compliments. You remembered the first time Din had called you beautiful but that was when he saw your scars for the first time, and you assumed it was partly said to be nice. But now hearing Din express this made you shift in the spot you sat in. “Din-“
“And whenever you concentrate on something or think about something, you bite your bottom lip. By the time you finish something that is kicking your ass, your lip is all red.”
You had never even realized you had done that. It seemed like such a small thing no one would notice about a person. But of course Din noticed. He seemed to notice everything. “Din, you can-“
“Your lips.” You froze at the two words, waiting for him to continue but he paused. You turned your head in his direction and he was close enough that you could feel his breath on your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt him brush some fingers against your chin, angling your face up more. “They look sweet.”
Holy shit, you could not handle this. You felt your hands begin to shake slightly as you waited for anything. For more sweet nothings to drip off his lips like honey, for his calloused fingers to brush against the angle of your chin, for his breath to get closer and closer. Anything to satisfy the desperate ache you felt in your chest. As the silence you dumbly let out a small, “So do you.” Your brain didn’t even process what you were saying and you felt yourself cringe at the stupidity leaving your lips.
“You’ve never seen me.”
You felt yourself bite down slowly on your bottom lip, now aware of the habit of yours. “Uh, it’s an educated guess.”
You heard a chuckle come from him, the sound sending waves through your body. A hand finally met your face, wrapping around your chin lightly as it was angled just a little bit higher. If he just leaned forward, just the tiniest bit, he’d probably be kissing you. He was already so close. Just one more movement. Maybe you could even close the distance, though you weren’t sure if you were brave enough and didn’t want to do something stupid since you were blindfolded.
You felt Din shuffle, moving slightly until your heard a small clang and his hand yank away quickly. “Dank farrik.” He hissed and you felt your whole body sag as he moved away.
“W-what happened?” You felt numb still and were barely able to mutter out the words.
“I just spilled something. I’ve got to clean it.”
That was when you heard the soft yelling from the pram where the child slept. It was muffled since it was closed, but it was distinct. “You put your helmet on and get the kid. I’ll clean the mess.”
“But-“ Din cut short before letting out a grunt. “Okay.”
It was only a matter of seconds before he gently was pulling the scarf off your face. You blinked a couple times as your vision adjusted, looking at him as his helmet looked down at you. You could feel how warm your face was still, how your hands still trembled just oh so slightly. You gave him a soft smile before nodding at him.
He rose up from where he was hunched down, bringing his body up as he walked over to where the pram was. Opening the lid, the child immediately stuck his pouty little face out. You almost could laugh at the pathetic expression on his face if it weren’t for the way you still felt like your mind was racing.
You were pretty sure that Din was going to do it. Was going to kiss you. You could curse the galaxy for intervening. What if that was a one-time thing? What if he never tried again?
You brushed your hair behind your ear, leaning forward to clean the mess while your mind raced with thoughts of Dins fingers on your chin and a pair of lips you’ve never even seen landing on yours.
___________________
The Second Time 
It was the next night and things were going very smoothly. You and Din had dinner as usual. The kid fell asleep without a problem, which was a blessing because he had been going through a rough patch where he screamed for hours until he eventually wore himself out enough that he just passed out.  You had gotten a shower in before climbing into the cockpit where Din was sat as usual, waiting for you. You padded over to the passenger seat, plopping down onto it with a relaxed sigh. Din looked over at you, his helmet glancing up and down your figure before it settled onto your face.
 You liked to imagine what he looked like under it. You wondered if he was returning the small smile you gave him and if so, what did it look like? Did he have dimples? Did his eyes crinkle when he did so? You wanted to know so desperately what he looked like but you never wanted to disrespect his creed or make him think you cared about such trivial things. Because in the end, you didn’t really care what Din looked like under the helmet. No matter what he looked like, he was still your Din and that was all that really mattered. But that still didn’t quell the burning curiosity. You wanted to know what the man you respected and loved so much looked like, just so you could envision him a little clearer in your mind. 
“What are you thinking about, sweet one?” 
You looked away from his intense stare. “I just sometimes... wonder what you look like is all.” You suddenly became flustered and rushed to say something else. “But I don’t care. I’d never disrespect your creed and it doesn’t really matter what you look like. You could be the ugliest person in the galaxy and that’d be fine. Not that you are ugly. Although I don’t know. But I am sure you aren’t ugly. Probably very nice looking actually but I wouldn’t know so who really-”
“Stop.” Din let out a chuckle as you stopped talking, feeling your face heat up from your nervous blubbering. “It’s okay. It’s only natural.”
You shook your head and looked back at him, his helmet still aimed towards you. “Yeah?”
“Of course.” Din shuffled in his seat, before tearing his gaze away. His hand clutched onto a control, not even doing anything with it but just holding onto it tightly. “You can... ask questions. That isn’t against the creed.”
You felt a grin begin to grow on your face. Maker, you had always wanted to ask him questions but you never wanted to be rude or overstep your boundaries. But here was explicit permission and you felt your brain come up with so many things to ask hi,. You wanted to know everything but you just started with one. “How old are you?”
This was necessarily directly about how he looked, but you realized not so long ago that you had never asked him. He didn’t sound old and his body was in good shape. “Older than you.”
Your eyebrows quirked up at the answer. You honestly thought he probably was around your age, not much older if at all. What if this whole time you were stupidly pining for a man who was too old for you? “How much older?”
“Not too much. But enough.” He grunted and you narrowed your eyes at the nondescript answer. 
“Hmmm. Okay.” You strummed your fingers against your thigh before settling onto your next question. “Do you have hair?”
“Yes.”
“Like on your head? Or your face?”
“I have hair on my head. Sometimes on my face.” You felt yourself swoon at the idea of him with facial hair. Maybe a nice patch above his lip or maybe stubble dotting his chin. How you would love to feel his hair, even if just for a second. Run your fingers through it. Maybe feel it against your skin...
Your train of thought was broken as Din looked over at you and you clammed up, realizing you were spending an inappropriate amount of time thinking about his hair. You didn’t even know what it looked like and it was already driving you wild. “Um. Okay. Is it soft?”
Is it soft? What kind of question was that? You almost brought a hand to cover your face but you heard Din chuckle at the lame question. “Is it soft?” he repeated, in a teasing tone.
You looked away from him with a flushed face. “Oh, never mind. That was a stupid question.”
Silence filled the cockpit as Din looked away from you and back to the control panel. “Do you,” Din paused and you barely looked at him from the corner of your eye, seeing the way his body seemed to clench up. “Do you want to feel it?”
You couldn’t help the way your head whipped to face him directly, your eyes widening. Maker, you couldn’t think of anything you would rather do in this moment (besides maybe kiss him). You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, just slowly nodding in a trance-like nature before mumbling out something along the lines of “yes please.”
Din nodded and took his hands away from the panel, settling them on his neck to tug at the fabric. “Come over here.”
You surprised yourself by how quickly you stood from your seat, despite the way your whole body felt numb at the interaction. Din stood up as well, the scarf finally in his hands as he faced you. You stood in front of him, trying to hide the excitement you were feeling but failing to do so with the glint in your eye. Din gave you a nod, which you returned, before he brought the scarf up to your eyes. It usually smelled like him, earthy and like cinnamon, but it seemed even stronger today. You didn’t know if it was because all your senses were going into hyperdrive because of what was about to happen or if he did something different, but you took what you hoped to be a subtle deep breath in as he finished tying it off. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” You said clearly, waiting for the sound of his helmet being removed. The hiss and click of it filled the silence of the cockpit a matter of seconds later and you heard him place it somewhere, probably on his seat. A pair of hands reached out to grab at yours. You were surprised by them. They were Din’s hands, covered in the gloves he usually wore like normal. But you could feel the way they were shaking slightly, the way they held onto yours a little tighter in order to steady them. “Din, we don’t-”
“No, it’s fine. I just...” He trailed off and you shook your head understandingly. You wondered when the last time Din’s face had been touched, especially by a loving hand. Had it been a friend or his mother? You couldn’t imagine he hadn’t had one loving touch since his family died all those years ago but you supposed it could be possible. He had told you he never took his helmet off in front of people, until you. 
“It’s okay.” You whispered quietly, letting him guide your hands at his own pace and not rushing him. You wanted him to be comfortable and be in a safe environment. He could go at his own speed, no matter how much your fingers itched with desperation. 
Din slowly started to bring your hands up higher, going at an excruciatingly slow pace that made your chest tighten up. But this wasn’t about you. It was about Din. They could feel him trail upwards, feeling your fingers graze the cool metal of his chest plate as they moved higher and higher. Din brought them to his shoulders, still clad in armor, and he placed them there. Resting your hands against him, he brought his hands away, placing them down at his side. You heard him breathing, the steady in and out slowing down slightly and relaxing. You kept your hands where he had put them, letting your fingers just barely grip onto the metal sat upon each shoulder. You spent a few moments like this before he said, “Okay.”
You brought your hands up just slightly, waiting to see if he’d stop you but when he didn’t interrupt, you allowed yourself to slowly continue on. When your fingers finally grazed the warm skin of his neck, you heard Din suck in a breath and pulled away quickly. You were surprised as his hands quickly grasped onto yours, bringing them back to the place you had torn them away from. “Din?”
“It’s okay.” He reassured you and you nodded at him, wondering if he was looking at you. You let the tips of your fingers trail up, the warmness of his neck dancing on your flesh. You felt your hands rise up more and more before they landed on a ridge. It was his jaw and Maker, he had stubble. You sucked in your own breath, your bottom lip being sucked in between your teeth, as you allowed more of your hand to reach out. You slowly grasped onto his jaw, feeling the angular curves of it. It was strong, angled, and deep. The hair nipped at your hand but you continue bringing it cross his chin. You felt a small patch of skin amidst all the short hairs, bring a finger to rub at it lightly as a shy smile graced your face. The hair on his chin nipped at your finger lightly, almost tickling your skin, but you didn’t mind. 
Din stood completely still, the only sound he made being the steady in and out of his breathing. You continued feeling your way around his jaw when a light touch grabbed onto one of your arms. You felt his hand wrap around your wrist, the way his gloved thumb lazily draw circles into the bare skin. It was almost too much for you: how warm his skin was under your hand and the way the spot on your wrist seemed to tingle as Din touched it. You almost felt the need to say something but determined this moment was too pure for words. Nothing had to be said. You just needed to feel. 
You finally brought your hands off of Din’s chin, to which you swore you heard a small whine leave his lips that caused your face to blush a violent shade of red. Instead of bringing his hands back to your skin, he allowed you to wrap a hand to the back of his neck, feel at the small strands of hair that led up higher and higher to his hair. You lightly grasped onto the nape of his neck, to which you definitely heard him let out a small gasp and you paused your movements, not moving away but giving him a second. “Are you okay?”
“More than okay.” Din just barely whispered, so silent that you swore you wouldn’t have been able to hear it if it weren’t for how quiet it was and how your ears tried to compensate for the way you couldn’t see. You hummed back to him as your let your fingers splay out onto the skin of his neck. You slowly let your hand drift up, your fingers beginning to drive into his hair. Your other hand reached up to his face, laid out onto his cheek which you felt his physically lean into. The skin of his face was peppered with stubble and you could feel a few indents into the skin, probably from the life of fighting he has lived. His skin was rough, felt masculine and raw, but it was also so warm and soft. It made the flesh of your hand tingle, your fingers cupping his face even more. 
Your other hand moved higher before tangling into his hair. It was longer than you had expected and probably messy from his helmet and your wandering hands, but it was so soft. “Din, you are so beautiful.” You muttered.
You felt Din freeze before you, the hand still on your wrist no longer rubbing circles. You almost worried you had done something wrong until his other hand reached out to your waist, grabbing onto it and tugging you closer to him. You chest was now pressed against his, both of your faces so close to each other that you were practically sharing air. Your grip on him tightened slightly, feeling the way he let out a deep breath. “Sweet one...”
His said it so quietly but it was like a song flowing out of him. You brought his face down with your hand, bringing your forehead against his. You had done it so many times before when he had the helmet on but never was it your skin against his. “How did you know?”
You furrowed your brows at his question. “Know what?”
His breath fanned over your face. “When you press your forehead against mine... The Mandalorians do that as a form of affection.” You had never known that. It just felt like the natural thing to do with him since the helmet posed such a barrier. Just a gentle tap seemed like a reassuring way to provide comfort to him. “It’s called a Keldabe kiss.”
Your hand twisted into his hair more and his grip onto your waist became even tighter. “Oh.” you gently said, your foreheads both pressing against each other even more, you standing on the tips of your toes slightly to try to get closer. Both of your noses brushed against each others and you could almost cry because of how beautiful the moment was. How comforting and breath taking it felt to be so close to Din. 
He nuzzled his face against yours even more, his nose touching yours. His lips were so close, all he had to do was lean forward. Fuck it, all you had to do was lean forward. 
Just as your were about to lean into him, you felt the fabric of the scarf begin to slip down from behind your head. You clasped your eyes shut tight, ripping your hands away from Din and bringing them to hold the fabric back up. “Kriff.” 
Your hands shook wildly and your heart was pounding even harder in your chest than before. You heard some movement, followed by the hiss and click of the helmet being put on. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to move your hands away. You just felt your chest rapidly inhale and exhale and Din’s labored breathing fill the silence. That was so close. You could of ruined Din’s creed, his whole entire life, in just a matter of seconds. “I’m so sorry.” you let out.
Din sighed and you finally pulled the fabric down, looking over at where he stood by his chair. He was looking down at the ground rather than you and simply shook his head. “I didn’t tie it well. It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I offered. It’s fine.” Din’s helmet tilted up towards you. “We should probably sleep.”
You nodded, feeling your flushed cheeks begin to cool and your breathing ease into normality. “Yeah.” 
___________________
The Third Time
You and Din weren’t quite so lucky the next night. 
The child was back to crying into the latest hours of the night. You usually had a pretty good read on the kid. You could detect the smallest of subtleties of each sound or face he made. You knew whether he was hungry, tired, bored, or agitated. Din had told you once that you seemed to always know what he needed and you supposed that was true. But tonight was not that kind of night.
The child had been screaming. For hours now. You and Din had tried everything. You fed him his favorites food and while it would silence him for a while, the tears would just rage on once he was done eating. You had both taken shifts, holding him and rocking him but that didn’t seem to calm him, in some cases the smothering just seemed to bother him even more. You had given him toys, given him the ball from the ship he loved, sang songs, danced for him, tried to play hide and seek. You had tried anything he had ever expressed liking before but nothing worked. The best you could get was an exasperated look from the kid, like he was judging you for your lack of success. 
Din and you were losing it. It was so late and you both were absolutely floored. You couldn’t think of one thing to stop the screaming. Until Din suggested you two just let him rage on. He had placed the kid in the pram, leaving the lid off, and sat down on the floor beside you. The kid’s screaming continued but he didn’t say anything or try to provide comfort. Din and you just let it keep going. At this point, you just hoped he would wear himself out or realize he was going to receive no attention from you two and stop his tantrum.
That didn’t stop it for hours though. At one point you had told Din you needed to do something but he made the great point that there was nothing to do. Absolutely nothing would calm the kids hostile attitude and logically, he had to fall asleep at some point. He was going off steam at this point, not having slept since the night before and using so much energy being a complete womp rat. He needed to pass out eventually from pure exhaustion. 
You and Din both sat on the floor, eyes hooded and bodies limp. You two were drained, not even bothering to try to speak over the hysterics, and your minds were like blank slates. You didn’t think or move. Just zoned out completely.
Zoned out so much that you drowned out the yells being emitted from the child until you were torn away from it. Wait a second. You lifted your head from where it was limply laying against the wall, bringing yourself to stand up slowly. You looked over at the pram and sure enough, the crying had stopped. The child was laid back, arms splayed out, having finally worn himself out enough to sleep. His small body rose and fell, eyes fluttering slightly as he made small, sleepy noises. If the kid hadn’t acted like such a demon for hours now, you would of thought the scene was so endearing, the maternal part of you flooding with happiness at the little child so soundly and peacefully asleep. But instead you just felt relief and utter joy, sleep-deprived joy, but joy nonetheless. 
“Holy shit.” You whispered out, looking over at Din.
Din still sat against the floor, his helmet leaning forward so the bottom of it leaned against his chest, no longer wearing his armor but his usual pajamas. He had tried to sleep earlier since you claimed you had it under control, but he had shortly realized you certainly did not have it under control, nor would he be able to hear with all the noise. He didn’t even bother to move at the sound of your voice, just grunting and letting out a exhausted “What?”
“Shhh.” Din finally looked up as your hissed and raised his head, looking into the pram floating a few feet from him. You couldn’t see him but you could see his shoulders perk up as he realized the child had finally fallen asleep. “I can’t believe he is asleep.”
Din slowly rose from his spot on the floor, not wanting to make any unnecessary noises that could wake him up. He carefully stepped towards the pram, stopping right behind you. You felt his hand grab at your wrist, slowly pulling you away gently from where the pram was. “C’mon.” His whispered as quietly as he could with the helmet on, his voice deep and sleepy through the modulator. 
You turned around, away from the child, and let Din lead you, letting your body limply follow him to the entrance of his cot. He gestured his head for your to enter and you didn’t even bother to argue, crawling in. You let your body fall into the padding of it. His bed wasn’t too comfortable but it was better than the sleep-away one you normally used. It also smelled like Din and one of the blankets you two had gotten from the marketplace was laid out on it. You brought the fabric around your waist, letting the warmth of it sink into you. You didn’t look up but felt Din shuffle into the small cot behind you. The two of you in the same cot was a bit silly, since it was so small and you two had to be so close to each other, but you didn’t mind. Shortly after he crawled in, the door to it shut, blocking out all the light as you heard the hiss of his helmet being removed. You smiled as you snuggled into the bed more, whispering “I can’t believe the womp rat fell asleep.”
Din let out a quiet chuckle as he placed his helmet down, bringing himself down onto the bed, laying on his side with his chest pressed against your shoulder. You began to move, trying to shuffle a little bit away as to give Din more room to relax, but instead you scooted back rather ungracefully, your head slapping into the metal that encapsulated the bed. The noise was loud enough that you and Din both sucked in a breath, waiting for the kids screaming from earlier to resume. You waited a few moments and were pleasantly surprised when you were met with silence. “Be quiet, cyar’ika.” Din quietly scolded.
“Sorry. I didn’t try to slam my head into the wall.” You sarcastically responded and both of you let out a small laugh at the response. You couldn’t see a thing, but felt a shift, his body suddenly dragging over yours. He hovered over you, his body weight being held up by his forearms which rested on each side of you.  You felt his warm breath fan over your face and smiled as you felt the lower half of his body press slightly into yours. One of his hands reached out to touch your head.
“You okay?” His fingers rubbed at your scalp slightly, a gentle movement that made you let out a hum. You would usually find yourself nervous with Din this close to you but you were too tired and too happy to find it in yourself. Instead you just lazily smiled as you felt him rub the spot where you had hit your head. It hadn’t hurt much, but his touch was so relaxing, easing away any discomfort that may have been.  You just felt at home, like this was the right place for you to be in. You found yourself thanking the Maker as you leaned into his touch, so grateful he had come back for you. You don’t know how you could of ever lived without this.
Din’s head suddenly brushed back the side of your face and you felt a strand of hair tickle at your face. You didn’t even think when you brought a hand up, tangling your fingers into his hairs like his were in yours, rubbing slowly into it like you had done the night before. You heard Din let out a small noise at the contact, his face moving down closer to the side of your head. His lips just grazed the shell of your ear, whispering “You are so sweet.” 
Your breath hitched a little at the feeling of him whispering in your ear, his voice completely overtaking you. His head moved a little and you gasp when his cheek grazed yours. The stubble your fingers had touched just the night before now grazed your cheek ever so slightly, enough that it didn’t burn but just seemed to tickle in the most pleasant way. “Din...”
You didn’t have anything to really say but you just wanted to feel his name on your lips and his skin touch yours. One of his hands landed on your hip and you whimpered at the contact. “You are beautiful, y’know?”
His voice was so deep and enveloped all your senses. You could still hear the weariness in it, but there was something else. Affection. You let yourself smile, bring your other hand to Din’s arm, grasping lightly onto his bicep and feeling the curve of his muscle. He wasn’t overwhelmingly muscular, but strong enough that you could feel it. Strong enough to make you feel safe in his arms.  “Y-yeah?” 
Speaking felt like the most difficult task. You couldn’t find it in yourself to say some snarky comment even if you wanted to. You were so tired and so overwhelmed by him. He smelled like cinnamon and bark. His touch was hot on your skin, his breath fanning over you face, cool and inviting. Every single one of your senses was just focused on Din.
“Yeah.” Din grumbled and you finally felt his lips meet your face, just barely grazing your forehead but enough for you to feel it. His lips were so soft, a welcome sensation. His hand on your hip lifted a second before you felt your clothes shift a little and then his hand was back  in the same place, but bare skin underneath his fingers. You tried to hold back a whimper at the sensation, feeling weak at his touch. His thumb rubbed circles into the flesh and you didn’t dare move, not wanting him to stop. His other hand was still tangled in your hair, rubbing at your scalp with such tenderness. 
You continued running your hands through his hair when you felt his nose brush against yours. You knew his lips were so close to yours and it took everything in you to not reach up and connect them. “Maker, I can’t even believe you’re real...”
You let out a sigh at his words, your other hand on his arm trailing upwards and wrapping around the back of his neck. You held him close to you as your legs tangled together, like you were becoming one being. 
You felt him let out a big breath. You were slightly disappointed when his face drifted away, wanting him to kiss you so desperately you thought you would die if he didn’t. But instead you let out a gasp when you felt his lips press against the edge of your chin. Din’s other hand retreated from your hand, reaching down for the other side of your hip, both hands planted on you. His body weight shifted, his chest now pressing against yours more. The feeling of his lips on your skin was warm and short but it absolutely clouded your mind. You wanted more. No, needed more.
Dins lips once again pressed against you, this time a little lower and you tilted your neck up, giving him more room. “Din?”
“Yes, sweet one?” He whispered the words against your skin, causing shivers to run down your spine.
“Please.”
“What?”
“Just k-” That’s when the wailing began and you couldn’t help but to let out a small, “shit.”
Din suddenly lifted himself off you and you nearly whined at the loss of contact. You were so close to just telling him to kiss you. And he had felt so nice and of course, the child had to interrupt it. You heard Din clear his throat before he reached over, grabbing his helmet which was attached once again with a click. “I’ll go take care of it.”
The door to his bed opened and he slid off the cot, giving you one more glance over before he turned around to take care of the kid. You groaned quietly as you brought a hand to your face. 
Your other hand reached for your neck, feeling how warm the flesh was where he had kissed it. You were loosing your mind. This was now the third time, where you had been so close to almost kissing him. And you swore you were on the verge of just telling him to get it over with.
But tonight wasn’t the night. Instead, you’d just try to sleep and hope tomorrow the child would be less of a gremlin.
___________________
You looked at the child who sat in his pram, dreary eyes looking up at you as he let out a yawn. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, arms crossed over your chest as you studied him. Last night he had finally fallen asleep, but only with Din holding him so Din had spent the night away from you, laying on the cot you had normally slept on with the child. Now the whole day the kid had been suspiciously well behaved. And now that it was night, and a reasonable time, he was sleepy. You supposed it was logically because of how little sleep he had gotten last night, but you still felt suspicious at the way he blinked up at you slowly, eyes drawing to a close before fluttering open. 
“Listen, kid.” The child looked up at you sleepily, a small smile growing as he looked up at you. “You need to behave tonight. And sleep. Because I need your dad to finally just kiss me and you’ve interrupted two times now.”
The child’s expression didn’t change but he let a sleepy giggle out to which you frowned. “If you are good, I will let you eat my serving of chowder tomorrow, okay?”
The child’s ears perked up slightly at the mention of chowder and he laid back against the blanket in his pram, his eyes drifting closed. “Womp rat, good night.” You closed the lid to his pram, beginning to walk towards the ladder of the Crest when you bumped into Din behind you. Your hand flew to your chest, feeling yourself jump as you realized he was there. “Maker, how long were you there?”
You asked the question without much thought until you felt your face bloom red when you realized what you had just told the child. Because I need your dad to finally just kiss me. You looked up to Din’s helmet which was tilted down at you and felt your eyes widen just the smallest bit. Oh, Maker, please don’t say he heard it.
“Just came down. Heard you offer your chowder to the kid.”
You felt relief wash over you as you let out an awkward chuckle. “Hah, yeah. Anything to not have a repeat of last night.”
You slowly drifted away from the pram, towards the center of the hull of the ship. Din followed you, his boots tapping against the floor but it didn’t seem to disturb the child. You waited for Din to say something but he just stared back at you, arms crossed over his chest. You uncomfortably smiled at him, feeling uneasy with the way he was looking at you. “You are probably exhausted. We should go to sleep.” You said, hoping he would stop looking at you but to no avail.
“Last couple days with the kid has been rough.” He finally said and you nodded empathically. Rough was an understatement. You weren’t sure if it was a growth spurt, or perhaps instead of his terrible twos it was his frightening fifties. But either way, it had been a hard time. 
“Yeah. Definitely not great.” You said. You copied his own stance, crossing your own arms over your chest and looking over at him.
“And very inconvenient.” He responded.
You froze in your spot, looking at him. Very inconvenient indeed. Especially for things like kissing. “Yup.”
“I don’t think I am going to be able to sleep.” 
You couldn’t imagine how. Din had been up for as long as you had, having slept on your crappy cot last night instead of his bed. It was impossible that he wasn’t worn out. “Why?”
“I need to do something.”
You huffed. Din was always one to keep busy, always having something to do whether it was cleaning his weapons or doing something with the Crest. But he needed to finally just relax. Both of you did. “I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”
You finally moved, plopping down on your cot in the corner of the hull. Din just stepped towards you more, arms still held over his chest. “It’s waited long enough.”
“Oh really, what super important Mando stuff do you have to do now?” You sarcastically responded, beginning to pull away at the laces of the boots you wore. Your body was so sore and your mind was running at about half of what it usually was. You looked up at Din and frowned when he just stood over you, not saying anything. “Din, what are you doing?”
Din sighed and muttered out, “Sweet one.”
That was when you felt it. The tension in the room. It had been there for days now, ever since Din had almost kissed you during dinner than one night. It consumed every single thought you had, clouded over every conversation you had with Din. Made every touch even more electrical than usual. Every casual turn of his helmet made your chest clench. Every time you looked at him he got a little more rigid than usual. You both were waiting for the damn to break and for the tension to wash away. And hell, you both were trying your best but failing with every attempt.
You slowly rose up from your seat on the cot, standing in front of Din who was so close to you that your ankles were pressed against the padding of your bed. “W-what is it you have to do?”
Din tilted his helmet at you and you felt your face turn a shade of deep crimson. You were pretty sure you knew the answer. At least you hoped to the Maker it was or this would be a very interesting situation. Din brought his hands up, beginning to take off each glove and you gulped. “Din...”
“Take off my scarf.”
You nodded slowly, taking a minute to process before reaching your hands up to his neck. You pulled the fabric slowly, letting it flow off him softly as it slipped from his neck to your fingers. “Put it on.”
You nodded again, not finding it in yourself to speak. You gave him one last look before wrapping the fabric around your eyes, tying it so tightly around your head that you was bound to give you a headache. But you couldn’t risk it almost falling off again. You were damned that nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to interrupt. 
The hiss and click rang out and you felt your hands begin to shake as you heard a thud against the cot behind you, Din having tossed his helmet there. Din grabbed your hands, bare fingers gripping onto yours ever so lightly, before he placed them on his chest piece, the cool metal sending a shiver down your arms. “Din?”
“Yes?”
“Please just kiss me already.” You felt shock jolt through your body as the words slipped through your lips. Your jaw went slack at your own boldness. You waited for a response but only heard silence and begin to pull away. Oh my Maker. You had been wrong this whole time. It was all just imaginary and you were just wanting it to be real. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I’m just going to-”
“Cyar’ika.”
“That was so stupid. And embarrassing. Like woah, where did that come from?” You tried to laugh, show you were unbothered by the painful uncomfortableness of the situation, but you just let out a wheeze.
“I want to kiss you.”
You nearly choked on the air you were breathing when you heard Din speak. “Okay. Well then, no offense, but why aren’t you?” You couldn’t help but to ask the question that was plaguing your mind so often lately.  You had given him permission. Why wasn’t he just doing it? 
“Uh, well...” You heard him drift off and frowned under the blindfold. You brought your hands back up to chest, letting your fingers splay out on the broad expanse of the metal. 
“Is everything okay?”
Yes, you wanted Din to kiss you. So badly. But you also wanted him to be comfortable. And you could hear the uneasiness in his voice. It was subtle but it was there. And you never wanted him to be uncomfortable around you, even if that meant not kissing him. You felt Din let out a deep breath. “I’ve never... kissed someone before.”
You couldn’t help the way your jaw hung open just the tiniest bit, the way your body froze in shock. You probably shouldn’t be so surprised. The helmet definitely did make things like this harder: you now knew that from experience. But you couldn’t imagine Din had never kissed someone before. Maybe it was naive but you couldn’t believe no one had wanted to kiss him and that he hadn’t gone out of his way to make it happen. “Is it against the creed?” You mumbled out, trying to find some reasoning that was logical to you.
Din nervously chuckled, bringing a hand to your wrist to once again rub circles into the skin. “No, not really.”
“Not to sound rude, but how?”
“I just never found anyone that was worth it, I guess.” You paused at the explanation. You supposed that was logical. Taking off the helmet, even to just kiss someone, posed a risk. You had to trust that the person wouldn’t try to sneak a peak or didn’t have some ulterior motive to kissing you. Being a Mandalorian made even the smallest things like this hard to experience normally and you suddenly felt yourself soften. “You are worth it though.”
You couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face, or the way you nervously but also giddily laughed. “Oh.” was all you managed to way but you trusted that Din could see your reaction and know what you were feeling.
“Just stay still, okay?” Din nervously asked.
“Okay.” You whispered. You felt his hand leave your wrist and both of them grab onto yours. He moved your hands from his chest to his neck, and you took it from there, wrapping them around the back of his neck, softly playing with the hairs there. Din let go, one hand dropping to your waist. His strong grip pulled you even closer, your bodies completely pressed together. The other hand grabbed lightly at your chin, his touch seeming to ghost over it. 
He took a moment, just holding you against him, before he brought his hand to cup your cheek. “You okay?” He whispered.
You nodded. “Are you?”
“Yeah.” You heard the waiver in his voice and begin to rub circles into the back of his neck, feeling him calm slightly. He let his head drop a little, his forehead resting against yours as he took in deep breaths. You nuzzled your face up, your noses rubbing against each others and your breath caught in your throat as his lips just barely grazed over yours. Oh Maker it was already perfect. 
“Din-”
“Shh.” You waited for the universe to mess with you. For the kid to begin screaming or for something to hit the ship. Anything to interrupt this moment but nothing happened. Silence consumed you both and all you could think about or feel or smell or hear was Din. It was all just Din.
Then his lips reached forward and you swore you couldn’t breath if you wanted to. They pressed against yours, lightly and gently at first. Just barely so but your lips molded into his, the shape of his seeming to fit yours like a key. You tighten your arms around him even more as he angled your face to deepen it, his lips moving just the tiniest bit. You felt yourself sigh in relief and his grip on your waist lightened. 
You were right. Whenever you had thought about his lips, you’d always though they’d be rough but also soft. Gentle but strong. And despite it being his first kiss, you let him take control, let him move his lips against yours. Let his hand drift from your cheek to the other side of your hip, pulling you even closer to his body. He let out a small groan as he pressed into you even more, his lips moving against yours. You reciprocated, moving with him and you both seemed to naturally slip into a rhythm that didn’t require any explanation or talking. You tightened your grip around him more, bring your feet to the tips of your toes so you could press into him more. You needed more of him. You needed it like you needed air.
Din finally tore his lips away, not moving away from you but you just huffed as his forehead rested against yours again. You hadn’t breathed once when he was kissing you and now you felt the way your heart was racing, the way your blood seemed to boil. The way your chest was warm and tight, but in the most beautifully addicting way. “Din, are you sure you’ve never done that before because-”
He interrupted you, his lips pressing into yours again which you let out a gasp to. You both pressed even tighter, not knowing how it was possible. You felt him wrap his arms around your lower back, his hands pressing you closer to him. His lips just lightly nipped at yours for a second, swallowing you completely. You felt yourself sway into it, like it was a dance. You both leaned against one another and then you felt yourself lean back-
and fall. You both felt against your cot with a bang and you couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips as the biggest grin broke out onto your face. Din was pressed on top of you, his arms lifting his body weight a little. Your blindfold was still on, but you could feel the way he was looking at you. “Sorry.” he said and you laughed even more.
“I am not complaining.” You felt him lean into you more when the kid’s yelling began, obviously awaken by the loud clattering of you two falling down. “I should get him.”
Din pressed his lips into yours again, smiling into it. He pulled away the tiniest bit. “He can wait a minute.”
Then his lips pressed against yours and you wrapped yourself around him. Around the Mandalorian who you were now devoted to. 
Tag List: @ilikethoseodds @dindaddy @poguesvixen @starspangledwidow @fangirlalexia @the-scandalorian @ka-x-in @keepcalmandblogstuff @the-lady-of-stars @orneryscandalousevil @spaghetti-666 @afootnoteinyourhappiness @the-darkempress​ @dream-alittlebiggerdarling​
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vanilla-vivillon · 3 years
Text
Happy Wesper Week! We are doing a Wylan POV because I can’t write charm at all. This is a modern AU bachelor party. The grisha powers exist but everything else is made into there real life equivalent
TW very brief mentions of sex trafficking.
What am I doing here? Wylan thought to himself
When his boyfriend Jesper insisted on throwing there good friend Matthias a bachelor party Wylan thought maybe they would go to a nice bar or play some party games
Not get crazy drunk, Not set fire to the Dutch Garden, not get chased by cops, not perform a gas station heist and not catch one of his best friends making out with a gas station cashier
However it seemed the universe didn’t care for the thoughts of little ole Wylan Hendricks
“Let’s get this party started!” The Australian yelled
Wylan had to remindhimself he loved his boyfriend Jesper
“Can you not shout?” Matthias, the groom to be, begged
Wylan, Jesper, and there friends Kaz and Kuwei were throwing a bachelor party for Matthias
It took a lot to convince the Norwegian that this was indeed a great idea
Wylan had never been to a bachelor party before but he was excited for his boyfriend who adored them
“Do we really have to go to this bar Jesper?” Kaz groaned seeing the crazy bright neon sign
After years of knowing Kaz Brekker Wylan could tell that Kaz was cursing Inej for telling him to come
Nevertheless the boys all walk in and start ordering shots
“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” The boys chanted egging on Kaz and Matthias drinking contest
Well it was mostly Jesper and Kuwei chanting Wylan after having a couple drinks was staring at the twinkle in Jespers eyes
He really was beautiful Wylan thought to himself
Wylan attended the University of Amsterdam to mostly escape his father.
There he met his lifelong friends
Matthias a grumpy international exchange student who grew up in a very prominent and dangerous cult in Norway. He wants to be a Norwegian ambassador
Nina Zenik, a heartrender turned corpse witch who was actually a russian spy back in the day. Now she’s working to become an ambassador
Inej Ghafa, she started a non profit to help stop sex trafficking whitch takes her all over the World but she used to. be an acrobat and after that worked with Kaz as his spy
Kaz Brekker, someone who Wylan after years of knowing him isn’t quite sure if there truly friends, or the semi illegal activities he gets up to. Wylan thought his hacking days would be done after University but Kaz has built an online criminal empire
Kuwei Yul Bo a scientists apprentice from China. He was currently working on his masters degree along side Wylan.
And Jesper. How to describe Jesper Fahey. He was an exchange student from Australia. A fabricator with a gift with Guns. While Jesper loved his pistols he actually works for a nonprofit dedicated to gun safety and regulation
After a highly illegal heist on there trip to Norway during college they all bonded as a group
Especially Wylan and Jesper
Jesper with that twinkle
Jesper with that laugh
Jesper with the way he looked at him now
After many more drinks Kuwei had the idea of the century
“Yooooooo y’know what’s a good idea?” Kuwei said bringing his head up from where it was previously glued to the table
“More shhhhhhhhhots?” Jesper suggested clearly as drunk as Wylan
“A couple blocks away is The Dutch Garden, wanna see some prrrrrrrrrrretty flowers?”
Fun fact this is a real place in Amsterdam
Wylan turned towards Kaz expecting him to veto it then and there but to Wylans shock and horror Kaz said “Hell yeah”
“But, but, it’s super late it’s gonna be closed!” Matthias spluttered out
“We can sneak in from the back fence” Jesper said
When Jesper drank his Australian accent whitch had soften over the years of living in Amsterdam came through in all of its glory
When Wylan first met Jesper he thought he was completely out of his league
And that damn accent drove Wylan Insane
While Wylan was contemplating the wonder that was Jesper Llewelyn Fahey it seemed the group made a decision without him
And Wylan thought for the first time in this bachelor party
What am I doing here?
“C’mon Wylan just climb!” Kuwei whisper screamed at Wylan
The drunken lads had made it to the Garden and had found an area where there was a fence they could climb with relative ease
All of the others made it to the other side
Except Wylan
“Don’t you want to seeeeeee the flowwwwwwwers?” Kaz insisted
If Wylan needed any more proof he was the soberest man out of all of them Kaz saying the word ‘pretty’ that isn’t referencing Inej was a clear sign
“Baby pleeeeease” Jesper begged
Oh
Oh no
Not that face
Wylan thought of himself as a sensible person who doesn’t succumb to pressure easily
But when his boyfriend made that face
Where his cool grey eyes went big
And his face had a slight flush to it
Wylan
Broke
“Fine! But if we get arrested it’s on you guys!”
With the ease of a spider who’s leg got chopped off by a middle aged housewife who’s husband is cheating on her climbing up a wall Wylan somehow got across
It wasn’t pretty
And it wasn’t gonna make Kaz proud
But it was completed
Panting Wylan on the ground said “I think this is my biggest accomplishment”
“Not…. Putting away your father? Or growing past your Internalised homophobia? Or writing your first essay on your own?” Matthias suggested clearly bewildered
Hey so i know Wylan can’t actually read. But seeing as this is modern day and plenty of dyslexic people can read with help, I figured that Jan would refuse to take Wylan to a doctor or get him help with his dyslexia believing it was weak making Wylan unable to read. Buuuuut when he’s older it makes sense to me he does learn. I’m not trying to invalidate his experiences or “fix” him but for the sake of a modern AU I had to change some things.
“Nope. It’s climbing this fence” Wylan laughed as Jesper helped him up
“Everyday you remind why your my favorite human” Jesper said with a laugh
“Ewwwww it’s like you guys like to remind how I’m the only single one” Kuwei said with a throwing up motion
“Thanks Jesp- wait human?” Wylan asked confused
“Well my favorite thing is Milo of course” Jesper winked
“The- the goat in Russia?” Kaz inquired not quite wanting to believe what Jesper was saying
To Wylans knowledge Kaz, Inej and Jesper did some job in Russia before he ever met them
“Why of course” Jesper slung an arm around Wylan who was not quite sure how to feel about this goat
Kaz went to go look at some purple flowers and contemplate his life choices
“Oh my god guys…….” Matthias started “the flowers! They’re- they’re”
“Cmon Matty, share with the class” Kaz said apparently bored with the purple flowers
“They’re so preeeeeeeetty” Matthias eyes welled up with tears
“Oh Saints tell me he’s not crying” Kuwei Moaned
Jesper walked over to where Matthias was stroking a hydrangea
“They are soooooooo pretty” Jespers eyes also Welled up with tears
“Fuck this shit” Kuwei said taking out a lighter and cigarette
“Hey! Smoking is very bad for you Kuwei!” Wylan lectured
“Wylan. I’m an inferni. Smoking foesnt affect us” Kuwei rolled his golden brown eyes
“Yeah but we’re in a highly flammable garden! And the rest of us aren’t inferni!” Wylan said
It seemed during Kuwei and Wylans arguement Kaz had also joined the cult of flowers that Matthias and Jesper were fixated on
“Wylan stop smoke shaming me!” And the scientists went back and fourth
“KUWEI YOU PIECE OF-“ Wylan started then sniffed the air “is that, is that smoke?” Wylan asked
“Holy shit dudes there’s a fire!” Kaz yelled pointing at where the cigarette Kuwei droppped
It seemed that the cigarette lit fire to a big wall of flowers
“This is why I never wanted a bachelor party!” Matthias moaned
The boys could hear voices coming towards them
Then all of the men looked at each other
And all of them yelled “RUN!”
All of them starting sprinting to the fence
And Kaz with his limp scrambled up that fence the fastest
Guess his determination to not get caught was strong
Wylan started climbing as fast as he could whitch wasn’t very fast
“Cmon Merchling!” Jesper said at the top reaching out a hand to his boyfriend
Wylan took it and stared at the steel eyes that had first enraptured him years ago
“Hey Stop!” Looking back Wylan and Jesper saw three security guards running towards them and yelling at them to stop
Jesper yanked Wylan up and they both fell off the fence in a pile
Jesper took Wylans hand and they all started booking it to Wylan’s car
Wylan who had sobered up in the whole endeavor determined that he was probably sober enough to drive
Piling in they all shoved themselves in the car
Wylan turned on the gas and starte to get the car back on the road
“I can’t believe we ran from cops!” Matthias said in between panting
“That was awesome!” Jesper exclaimed from the passenger seat
Wylan laughed
He had never been a spontaneous person
It seemed this night was a lot more fun then he thought
Until he heard the sirens
From the backseat Kaz turned
And three police cars were zooming towards them
“I am not going down for arson!” Kuwei yelled
“Wylan stop driving like a grandma and go faster! There gaining on us!” Kaz screamed at Wylan
“I can’t there’s a stoplight!”
“Run it!” Jespers shrill voice screamed at him
And Wylan did what he swore to never do
He took a deep breath
And ran that light as fast as he could
They were flying
Wylan had never seen how fast he could make his car go
Turns out it was fast
Wylan used some of his dads money to buy a sports car just to rub it in Jans face
With the top off and blood rushing through Wylans head he had never felt more alive
His boy beside him
His friends behind him
“WOOOOOOOOO!” Kuwei yelled throwing his hands up
Jesper joined Kuwei as the car sped down the street
Matthias was looking a little green
“Matty you okay back there?” Wylan shouted back at the Norwegian
“No!” Matthias shouted over the roar of engine and Jesper and Kuweis yips and yells
Some point during this Kaz called Inej
“Inej I hate thissssss!” Wylan couldn’t hear what Inej said back but from the pieces Kaz gave it was obvious
“No im not drunk!……. Psh of course those aren’t sirens…… Inej we might’ve bended the law but I swear it wasn’t my fault!…….. alright bye. ….I love you to….”
After what seemed like an eternity Wylan finally lost the police
Laughing the Wylan pulled into a gas station for refill
Wylan stepped out of the car and began to refill his car and thought for the millionth time what am I doing here?
“Wylannnnnn” Kuwei moaned
“What Kuwei?” Wylan said already exasperated
“Wylan I’m hungryyyyyy”
“Then go grab some chips or something!”
“But I don’t want to pay for it!”
“Then I guess that sucks for you!”
“You got like a million dollars from stealing me from Norway! You owe me!”
Ghezen Wylan hated drunk people
“Let’s perform a heist on the gas station!” Matthias said apparently done feeling sick
“What? No! We aren’t stealing from the gas station!” Wylan lectured
“It might actually be fuuuuuuun Wy” Kaz begged
The rest of the party were already getting out of the car ignoring Wylans protests
“We will do a simple distract act, Kuwei will go in first and lead the cashier away, and then we go in and steal chips” Kaz explained
It seemed even drunk Kaz could scheme
“This is insane!” Wylan exclaimed
“You said that about rescuing Kuwei from the Norwegian government but that ended up great” Matthias replied
They were gonna do this with or without Wylan
With a sigh Wylan thought what am I doing here?
Kuwei had gone in and had given the single
Wylan had walked in after pretending to look at some sodas and after Kuwei went into the back room with the cashier Wylan sent a quick text to the rest of the guys to come In and get raiding
Like clockwork Matthias, Jesper, and Kaz went in and they started ransacking the place
Wylan was in charge of Sodas, Matthias was in charge of Chips, and Jesper was in charge of Candy
Kaz had the most important job of all
He had to hack into there computers and wipe the security cameras
If Kaz couldn’t do that then Kaz would have to actually hack into the computers from his phone
It almost suprised Wylan how quickly efficiently, and quietly, a bunch of drunk guys could ransack a gas station
Wylan did feel guilty for a moment
But then he remembered how the CEO of the company the gas station is owned by has had multiple sexual misconduct allegations and Wylan felt better
Wylan got all the soda he could carry and rushed back to the car dumping them in the backseat
Soon after Matthias followed then Jesper and a little while after Kaz
Wylan did a quick headcount “wait where’s Kuwei?”
Wylan checked his phone
No texts from him
Shit shit shit
“Someone has to go back in” Kaz said
“I’ll go after him” Wylan said with a sigh
He loved Kuwei like a brother
But like an annoying little brother constantly getting himself in messes
Wylan Walked in and saw the e cashier wasn’t back
Wylan walked through the store and then heard something towards the men’s bathroom
Walking closer to the door the noises were getting a bit louder
Wylan opened the door slamming it against the wall
There stood a wide eyed Chinese kid and from the green uniform Wylan guessed was the cashier
The cashier who was standing between Kuweis legs. Kuwei who was sitting in the edge of the bathroom sink
There’s arms were around each other
Wylan was confused
What was Kuwei doing?
Oh
Oh
“Get your ass in the car Kuwei!” Wylan yelled
Kuwei gave whispered sorries to the cashier while collecting his jacket he apparently threw off
Wylan dragged Kuwei by the arm outside the store
“Kuwei. When we say distract the cashier, that means distract, not make oht with him!” Wylan lectured
“Cmon Wylan you saw him, he was cute!”
“Your drunk Kuwei!”
“Aren’t we all a little drunk in life?”
“That makes absolutely no sense” Wylan said with a sigh “just go to the car”
Kuwei happily skips away
Wylan had just dropped off Matthias at his and Ninas apartment after dropping off Kaz and Kuwei
Leaving just Wylan, Jesper, and an unhealthy amount of snacks in the car
“Hey Wylan” Jesper said
“Yes Jes?”
“I love you”
“I love you to Jesper”
“No wylan” Jesper took Wylan’s face in his hands
“I really love you” Jesper Pushed a ginger lock away from Wylans face
Jesper then reached into his pocket and pulled out a rumpled purple flower and tucked it into Wylans hair “I really really really love you”
Wylan blinked. Jesper was so drunk.
Wylan gave Jesper a soft smile and placed a kiss on his mouth
“I love you to Jesper”
And suddenly Wylan knew exactly what he was doing there
Finnally finished this in the Nick of time! @neilperryisalive I hope you enjoy this! I was seriously worried I wouldn’t be able to finish it but I did! I’ve never written Wesper but I really enjoyed it. My ask box is open and I take any Grishaverse requests
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wistfulrat · 3 years
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this week’s fics! feat. bakeries, bookshops, bisexual awakenings of the angsty and fluffy sort, wolfstar goddads being tender as hell, desi harry reconnecting with his culture, domestic drarry, a lap dance set to akon’s smack that, and more!
But That’s History by @ebbet - 54k - T Harry Potter starts his first year as Muggle Studies Professor only to find that Draco Malfoy has been hired to teach History of Magic.
listen to me. this is one of the funniest drarry fics i've ever read. i was cackling in my bed at 2am because harry’s internal monologues throughout this fic are unhinged. insanely quotable. “what was he, a lothario” and “you were crushing me with your muscular thighs!” are lines that live rent free in my empty head. harry has never played anything cool a day in his life. there’s a faculty meeting where the teachers are planning the yule ball and debating the merits of a DJ when harry decides he must defend his muggle-music-loving honor by dancing seductively to akon’s smack that while a blushing draco loses his mind. i fucking screamed. and the best part is that in between the comedic scenes threading the overall story, you have extremely tender moments of like, padma patil helping harry become a more rooted desi by sharing their cultural traditions, harry proudly donning his sherwani. draco wrestling with his past, going to harry’s lgbtq+ club for students, being sheepish with ron and hermione. ugh, comedic writers with emotional depth are clever and talented as hell!!
Realities, Unfurling by @ebbet - 45k - M Draco Malfoy is released from Azkaban into a changed world.
incredible collage-fic told from multiple povs. 8yrs post-war and everything’s changed. the current state of the magical world unfolds via slice-of-life snapshots from a truly stunning cast. non-binary harry whom is running a non-prof org dedicated to building tolerance and establishing equality for marginalized identities. post-prison-release draco whose life will be changed by the internet. neville’s tender relationship with blaise. andromeda’s fiercely protective mothering. remus and sirius being alive and very hot and just, the tender goddads harry deserved. cho chang being brilliant. baker pansy’s softened edges. found families abound. harry being flustered by their crush on draco and making personalized playlists on an iPod nano.
that all might sound narratively cluttered but the author more than pulls this off. glorious, start to finish.
Knead by @jovialobservationanchor (an @hd-erised​ fic) - 83k - E This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.
cinematic. a love letter to oregon’s expansive landscapes and lively cities. it’s harry finding home in unexpected places and people. in the vast silence of rolling fields, endless coasts, and starry night skies big enough to feel like you’re adrift in space. and it’s also the lingering, intimate quiet of early mornings in a bakery, sitting on a park bench overlooking the city as you eat ice cream next to your crush. it’s harry watching ginny and luna dance and work around each other like bees. it’s the slow unfolding of harry and draco’s relationship as they fill each other’s quiet. finishing this fic is like waking from a good dream. transporting, immersive, lovely. 
Harry Potter and the Bisexual Awakening by @writcraft - 20k - E Harry is perfectly content being single, heterosexual and living in Godric's Hollow with his very clingy rescue dog, Snitch. When Draco Malfoy turns up on Harry's doorstep demanding that Harry teach him how to drive, things quickly become a lot more complicated.
first of all, i feel very seen by draco being a gay-who-can’t-drive. it’s called representation. but mostly i love the ease of harry and draco’s banter, a flustered harry discovering his sexuality, and the way this fic addresses biphobia. also very emo over this exchange: “I think I might be scared of you, but probably not for the reasons you think.” “Yes.” Draco stares at Harry. “I think I might be scared of you too.”
Forged through flowing water by @tedahfromtayla (an @hd-erised​ fic) - 40k - E When Hermione sets up a diplomatic mission to begin repairing the damage British colonisation did to Indian magical communities Harry isn’t going to pass on the opportunity to visit and help his family’s home country. Maybe he should have asked a few more questions about the personnel she had recruited for it before signing on because Malfoy surely has an ulterior motive to be there.
so much to love about this fic. the beautiful settings, from kolkata to mumbai, to the holi festival and colorful lively streets, to remote cave settlements and old intricate temples. it’s harry in the homeland, reconnecting to his family’s heritage and confronting the weight of imperialism in his history. it’s nipping the white savior complex in the bud. this part: That is what England left behind. That is what it still stands for, despite whatever mask of respectability and honour it presents. . .You don't get to step aside and let someone else deal with the mess. You have to listen and learn and then act, Malfoy, you need to learn how to fix your own mess. This is why we're here. my indigenous ass cheered. HP certainly sells the british fantasy but HP fanfic?? fuck jkr, fuck the crown. i love that this fic doesn’t romanticize england’s history. i love that we get to see the vast resilience and beauty of post-colonial india.
Purity Control by yrfrndfrnkly - 28k - T In which Harry tries to ignore his trauma with fantasy Quidditch but Malfoy's Thereness™ is distracting and all his classmates want to talk about are unicorns, virginity, and Muggle music.
tender 8th year fics where they go from bristly as fuck to understanding and soft 100% guaranteed to make me emo as hell. all the teens have traumas and no one wants to talk about it but eventually Things are Talked About. it’s good of the adults to finally notice. everyone just wants someone to hold their hand. and this part: “You’re the only person around here who’s a bigger mess than I am.” “I thought maybe we could be a mess together,” pls don’t look at me as i weep over their gentle empathy.
Advent, a comic by dustmouth - WIP - T It's Harry and Draco's first Christmas together and Draco is determined to live his full yuletide fantasy, come hell or high water.
dustmouth, patron saint of whimsical drarry. whose illustrations singlehandedly reinvented wizarding fashion. whose cheeky and tender comics are like a soothing balm to the utter depravity of this carnal world. harry and draco being domestic, draco’s xmas spirit brand being “traditional unhinged”!! extremely my shit. we’ll absolutely be reading this all december.
Little Spaces by @dracoladon and @lazywonderlvnd​ - WIP - E Draco's back from France and working on the spell damage ward at St Mungo's with Hermione, who invites him over for dinner. Without telling Harry. This is a roleplay, which means Harry is written by one author (lazywonderland) and Draco by another (dracoladon).
the switch in distinct character voices works so well for this fic!! tonally i feel like i'm watching an episode of the office. i personally love harry and draco being Pissed Off at how much they want to bone each other. the battle of the tapenade was the most riveting dinner scene i've read in a minute. clever, hilarious, emotionally tense. can’t wait until that inevitable moment post hate-sex when they’re gonna be like “oh noooo it’s a Heart Boner as well!! >:((” hell ya we’re subscribing for chapter updates.
Dragons Don’t Know Paradise by @teacup-tai​ - WIP - E In 2004, when Remus spends two scary weeks in the ITU due to complications of pneumonia and his HIV condition, Sirius walks around the house like a ghost and Harry finds comfort and strength in Draco through a chat in an online LGBT forum. Harry falls for him, but Draco has a lot of secrets and, before long, will need to come clean—even if he believes that no one is able to understand a dragon.
non-magical bookshop AU. remus and sirius’ relationship is a marvel. the ease of their affection with harry makes me so emo. draco’s friends being insistently present even as he tries to isolate himself. this is a story about acceptance, found families, and falling in love at a distance. the intimacy, the longing, the tenderness. what a fic!! i keep coming back to this part:...he looks at ease, inside his body, a body he needed to fight for. He’d made peace with his struggles and his scars. And Draco realises he wants that. He wants to be at ease inside his body, the body that now carries a virus. He wants to be at peace with his own existence. you hurt for draco so deeply but you get moments like these where he affords himself a kindness that feels foreign and it’s just!! the boys navigating grief and learning to be vulnerable. so good.
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sodone-withlife · 3 years
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i know who i am
summary: really, he never saw himself ever willingly letting anyone in on his broken past, but here he was, sitting in across from Waipo in the tiny cramped office at the back of the shop and nervously sweating about what he was about to tell her
read it on ao3: chapter 1 is the original version with Mandarin, chapter 2 has everything translated into English
the movie really hit me hard as an ABC, and I really wanted to write something for it. even though she barely had any screentime, I loved Waipo—she reminds me of so many of my relatives—so I decided to make her be one of the most important people in Shangqi’s life, and it turned into this wonderful mess (i had to stop writing this for a bit because I literally made myself cry). there is mandarin in this, it's kind of intended to be a physical manifestation of how my bilingual brain works (i did put the English-only version first, the original version with Mandarin is under that one but the formatting for it one is better on ao3, so i suggest reading it from there). apologies for my shitty mandarin; I have mediocre language skills, but I'm still so excited to be able to incorporate it in my writing. in regards to the character's names: I only know for certain the Chinese characters used for Shangqi and Wenwu, but for Xialing, I'm going to go with what it apparently was in the hong kong release (夏灵, with 灵灵 as the nickname)
English Translation:
“Waipo, do you have a bit of time?” Shangqi stood in front of Katy’s grandma, fidgeting nervously as fluent Mandarin rolled off of his tongue with an ease he's never felt in any other part of his life. “I want to talk to you about something."
She pinned him with a knowing stare. “Does it have anything to do with the trip you and Katy went on this past week?" she asked, Not waiting for his answer, she got up from the shop register and beckoned him into the back office. Feeling oddly like the first time he came into the store years ago as a teen—when he first met Katy’s family who had since taken him under their wing—he followed her into the familiar, cramped space.
He wasn’t exactly sure what within him prompted this interaction. He had come to San Francisco for a normal life, to get as far away from his father’s reaches as he could and to outrun the blood that stained his footsteps.
Never did Shangqi imagine that he would end up claiming the ancient rings that now sat in a heavy-duty (thanks to Xialing, with whom he now keeps in regular contact because of the promise they made to each other before he left the compound because he already left her behind once, and he’s never doing it again damn, my baby sister is running the Ten Rings now, and she’s trying to turn it into something better) and a very well-disguised (thanks to the sorcerers in the New York Sanctum and holy shit he’s in contact with famous superheroes now) back in his mess of a studio apartment.
Never did he imagine letting anyone in on his broken past, and even though his hand had been forced when it came to telling Katy, here he was going to the second person who truly saw something in him when he first started his new life and planning to tell them everything.
(Okay, fine, Shangqi wasn’t actually planning on letting anyone else in on it after telling Waipo, not even the rest of Katy’s family, but he really didn’t want them to be so involved yet—he still had no idea what he himself was doing and he wants to preserve what normalcy he can.)
(Also, he’s been reliably informed that anyone close to a public figure is bound to be targeted for attacks—which he figured out when the mercenaries attacked on the bus because yes, Lingling, he does have brain cells thank you very much.)
“Little Dragon, what’s on your mind?”
Little Dragon.
He started at the nickname, the one originally given to him by his mother. Somehow, it had completely slipped his mind that Waipo also called him that, starting a few weeks after he first met the Chen family. He barely kept it together, the long-unused nickname dredging up memories he had thought left him forever.
You have the heart of a dragon, she had declared firmly when he asked her why she decided on that particular nickname.
(That was exactly what his mother had told him right before she died, and yet he stood by, hidden behind a door, and did nothing while the men beat and killed her, the heart of the family.)
(He would carry the guilt with him for a lifetime.)
It was a while before he could bring himself to visit the family again—there were a lot of awkward excuses before Katy reluctantly backed off—and it took even longer for him to get somewhat used to the name again, but he eventually started seeing it as a gift with each faint impression of happier days that he got every time Waipo called him that.
Old, weathered hands gently covered his own, which were shaking and clammy with nervousness. Shangqi wondered how Waipo would react to the darker side of the lost boy she had basically adopted all those years ago, wondered if the legends of Ta-Lo and the Great Protector were known outside of the rather insular communities that continued to tell the stories, wondered if she had heard about his father through the stories that were passed down for thousands of years, from generation to generation…
(It can’t be wrong to miss him, can it? Even with the years of hell Wenwu had put him through, he was still his father. Shangqi still faintly remembered the man his father had been when his mother was still alive, the happy times they shared as a normal family…)
(But those times were long gone, ripped from their grasp by the past Wenwu wanted so badly to leave behind. Grief had shattered the whole family, and it ultimately led to the children fighting the father who had been driven to near madness in his denial, in his quest to put his broken family back together again.)
Mom, I miss you so much.
(And now Wenwu is dead, just like his beloved wife.)
(But just as she died to protect her children, he did the same. Now, his children are reunited and in contact again, getting ever closer despite living as far apart as they did, and he was reunited with his love in the afterlife.)
Finally, he straightened his posture and took a deep breath, looking directly at Waipo, who he’d come to view as the grandmother he never had.
“Waipo, have you heard of the legend of the Ten Rings?”
And Shangqi told her everything.
He told her everything and more,
She listened.
She listened as he described the legends behind the Ten Rings, Ta-Lo, and the Great Protector; his father’s history; his own history, from witnessing his mother’s death to ripping open the throat of the man who killed her when he was barely a teen, from leaving Lingling behind to seeing her again in the fight club she built from the ground up, from returning to the compound after a decade away in San Francisco to the battle in Ta-Lo…
Finally, he fell silent and stared at his hands but it wasn’t long before Waipo moved, slowly standing up with one hand on her cane. He made to help stabilize her but was quickly waved off with a stern look. He sank back into the chair and felt her move behind him. The shaky weight of her hands on his shoulders as she gently pressed down and straightened his posture was familiar, even after years of not having his posture deliberately—so gently—fixed like that every time he saw Waipo.
“You are the legacy of all who came before you, but you are your own person.” she finally said gently, and the tension in his shoulders slowly loosened under her familiar touch. “You decide your own fate.”
~~~
That night, Shangqi knelt before the altar he had in his apartment, the only part that was carefully maintained in all the years he had lived there. But now, two smiling faces stared back at him, a joy reflected in their eyes that he knew would disappear in less than ten years after the photo was taken.
Am I still your pride and joy? Lingling grew up, but I didn’t even take care of her like I should have.
I swear to you, I will never abandon her again
Even as his life got even more unbelievable as the years went by, the altar and his copy of his parent’s wedding photo would remain a constant. He and Lingling dove deeper into their family history—of the Ten Rings, of Ta-Lo, of both the good and bad—and both worked to carry on their parents’ legacy.
(With all of the proper discretion agreements and threats when needed, of course.)
Lingling is dating my best friend now, and they’re so happy together. Mom, I know you would have loved Katy. Dad, I know you didn’t like her much, but she really is a wonderful person.
Life went on.
There were the good days, when he went out with others and could almost feel normal, and there were the bad days, when phantoms pains plagued him and he woke up from a restless sleep expecting to see bruises mottling his body like they did so often when he was younger.
(Also, he was considered a superhero now and holy shit that’s still insane, even years after he first got in contact with the Avengers and the sorcerers in New York. Now he was going all over the West Coast, to help the locals take care of whichever crazy supervillain decided to wreak havoc that day.)
Dad, I hope you find this story as funny as I did: I helped a group of American superheroes yesterday. They’ve never been to San Francisco before and were extremely unfamiliar with the roads, especially Lombard Street. They spent half an hour trying to drive down the street, but I ended up driving them down myself.
(San Francisco was still home, and he had found a life there with all his friends and Xialing whenever she visited. He had a job now, too, at the local youth center teaching martial arts and self-defense, teaching and guiding the youth in a way he wishes his father had with him.)
People came into his life; some stayed, some left, and some even got together.
Mom, Dad, Lingling and Katy are getting married today and everyone is so excited for them. I’m taking over the Ten Ring within a month so Lingling can take a break. She’s led the organization for so long, it’s my responsibility now. I hope I can live up to her standards, she’s done really well. She’ll be back in a few years, but even after, I’m going to be much more involved to lessen Lingling’s workload.
Shangqi walked the path knowing who came before him and who was still with him.
Most importantly, he walked the path knowing who he was—demons, flaws, strengths, and all.
Mom, Dad, don’t worry. I’ll take care of them.
I hope you’re happy together in the afterlife.
~~~
Don’t be afraid, Shang-Chi, for you have heart of a dragon and the power of the Ten Rings.
We will always be with you and Xialing.
Original Version w/Mandarin
“外婆,您有没有一点儿时间?” 尚气 stood in front of Katy’s grandma, fidgeting nervously. “我想告诉您一些事情。”
She pinned him with a knowing stare. “是不是跟你和瑞雯这前个星期去的旅行有关?” Not waiting for his answer, she got up from the shop register and beckoned him into the back office. Feeling oddly like the first time he came into the store years ago as a teen—when he first met Katy’s family who had since taken him under their wing—he followed her into the familiar, cramped space.
He wasn’t exactly sure what within him prompted this interaction. He had come to San Francisco for a normal life, to get as far away from his father’s reaches as he could and to outrun the blood that stained his footsteps.
Never did 尚气 imagine that he would end up claiming the ancient rings that now sat in a heavy-duty (thanks to 夏灵, with whom he now keeps in regular contact because of the promise they made to each other before he left the compound because he already left her behind once, and he’s never doing it again and damn, my baby sister is running the Ten Rings now, and she’s trying to turn it into something better) and a very well-disguised (thanks to the sorcerers in the New York Sanctum and holy shit he’s in contact with famous superheroes now) back in his mess of a studio apartment.
Never did he imagine letting anyone in on his broken past, and even though his hand had been forced when it came to telling Katy, here he was going to the second person who truly saw something in him when he first started his new life and planning to tell them everything.
(Okay, fine, 尚气 wasn’t actually planning on letting anyone else in on it after telling 外婆, not even the rest of Katy’s family, but he really didn’t want them to be so involved yet—he still had no idea what he himself was doing and he wants to preserve what normalcy he can.)
(Also, he’s been reliably informed that anyone close to a public figure is bound to be targeted for attacks—which he figured out when the mercenaries attacked on the bus because yes, 灵灵, he does have brain cells thank you very much.)
“小龙,你有什么心事儿?”
Little Dragon.
He started at the nickname, the one originally given to him by his mother. Somehow, it had completely slipped his mind that 外婆 also called him that, starting a few weeks after he first met the Chen family. He barely kept it together, the long-unused nickname dredging up memories he had thought left him forever.
你有神龙之心 ,she had declared firmly when he asked her why she decided on that particular nickname. You have the heart of a dragon.
(That was exactly what his mother had told him right before she died, and yet he stood by, hidden behind a door, and did nothing while the men beat and killed her, the heart of the family.)
(He would carry the guilt with him for a lifetime.)
It was a while before he could bring himself to visit the family again—there were a lot of awkward excuses before Katy reluctantly backed off—and it took even longer for him to get somewhat used to the name again, but he eventually started seeing it as a gift with each faint impression of happier days that he got every time 外婆 called him that.
Old, weathered hands gently covered his own, which were shaking and clammy with nervousness. 尚气 wondered how 外婆 would react to the darker side of the lost boy she had basically adopted all those years ago, wondered if the legends of Ta-Lo and the Great Protector were known outside of the rather insular communities that continued to tell the stories, wondered if she had heard about his father through the stories that were passed down for thousands of years, from generation to generation…
(It can’t be wrong to miss him, can it? Even with the years of hell 文武 had put him through, he was still his father. 尚气 still faintly remembered the man his father had been when his mother was still alive, the happy times they shared as a normal family…)
(But those times were long gone, ripped from their grasp by the past 文武 wanted so badly to leave behind. Grief had shattered whole family, and it ultimately led to the children fighting the father who had been driven to near madness in his denial, in his quest to put his broken family back together again.)
妈妈,我太想你了。
(And now 文武 is dead, just like his beloved wife.)
(But just as she died to protect her children, he did the same. Now, his children are reunited and in contact again, getting ever closer despite living as far apart as they did, and he was reunited with his love in the afterlife.)
Finally, he straightened his posture and took a deep breath, looking directly at 外婆, who he’d come to view as the grandmother he never had.
“外婆,您听说过 ‘十环’ 的传说吗?”
And 尚气 told her everything.
He told her everything and more,
She listened.
She listened as he described the legends behind the Ten Rings, Ta-Lo, and the Great Protector; his father’s history; his own history, from witnessing his mother’s death to ripping open the throat of the man who killed her when he was barely a teen, from leaving 灵灵 behind to seeing her again in the fight club she built from the ground up, from returning to the compound after a decade away in San Francisco to the battle in Ta-Lo…
Finally, he fell silent and stared at his hands but it wasn’t long before 外婆 moved, slowly standing up with one hand on her cane. He made to help stabilize her but was quickly waved off with a stern look. He sank back into the chair and felt her move behind him. The shaky weight of her hands on his shoulders as she gently pressed down and straightened his posture was familiar, even after years of not having his posture deliberately—so gently—fixed like that every time he saw 外婆.
“你是所有在你之前的人的遗产,但你是你自己的人,” she finally said,“你决定你自己的命运。”
You are the legacy of all who came before you, but you are your own person. You decide your own fate.
~~~
That night, 尚气 knelt before the altar he had in his apartment, the only part that was carefully maintained in all the years he had lived there. But now, two smiling faces stared back at him, a joy reflected in their eyes that he knew would disappear in less than ten years after the photo was taken.
我还是你的骄傲吗?灵灵长大了,但我也没好好照顾她。
我向你发誓,我再也不会抛弃她。
Even as his life got even more unbelievable as the years went by, the altar and his copy of his parent’s wedding photo would remain a constant. He and 灵灵 dove deeper into their family history—of the Ten Rings, of Ta-Lo, of both the good and bad—and both worked to carry on their family’s legacy.
(With all of the proper discretion agreements and threats when needed, of course.)
灵灵跟我朋友最近开始谈恋爱,他们俩可开心了。妈,如果你还在我们身边,我保证你会喜欢她。爸,我知道你一开始不太喜欢她,但她确实是一位精彩的人。
Life went on.
There were the good days, when he went out with others and could almost feel normal, and there were the bad days, when phantoms pains plagued him and he woke up from a restless sleep expecting to see bruises mottling his body like they did so often when he was younger.
(Also, he was considered a superhero now and holy shit that’s still insane, even years after he first got in contact with the Avengers and the sorcerers in New York. Now he was going all over the West Coast, to help the locals take care of whichever crazy supervillain decided to wreak havoc that day.)
爸爸,我希望你跟我一样觉得这个故事很好笑:我昨天帮了一组美国超级英雄开车。那是他们第一次来旧京山,对道路非常陌生—尤其是 Lombard Street。他们开也开不好,花了半个小时慢慢的开下去。最终,我把他们的车开下去的。
(San Francisco was still home, and he had found a life there with all his friends and 夏灵 whenever she visited. He had a job now, too, at the local youth center teaching martial arts and self-defense, teaching and guiding the youth in a way he wishes his father had with him.)
People came into his life; some stayed, some left, and some even got together.
妈,爸,灵灵她今天会跟我最好的朋友结婚,我们都很兴奋。我一个月之内开始接管十环的业务,让灵灵休息休息。她干了多少年了,现在是我的责任。我希望我能辜负她,她管的非常棒,帮了许多人。她几年后会回来继续当领导,但我好像在领导方面发挥更大的作用。
He walked the path knowing who came before him and who was still with him.
Most importantly, he walked the path knowing who he was—demons, flaws, strengths, and all.
妈,爸,你们放心吧,我会照顾他们。
我希望你们俩来世都幸福。
~~~
尚气,你别怕,你有神龙之心,十环的力量。
我们永远会在你和灵灵的身边。
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Californian Dream (Pt. 11 of 11)
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Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader
Word count: 2.3 K
Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.
Warnings: Light violence
<- Previous part (10)
{Stranger Things Masterlist}
{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}
×
California Never Felt Like Home
Even though he's not going anywhere any time soon, you hook one leg around his waist, just to pull him a little closer. “You're my prisoner now.” You mutter, sleep still clouding your voice.
“I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.” He answers, placing kisses all over your face.
“The good part is that we'll have all the afternoon to ourselves.” You giggle, moving to lay on your back with Billy hovering over you.
“I'll take you to see the sunset on that beach you like. Completely desert.” He says in a low voice. “If we survive your parents.”
“We already did.” Kissing him, you move to lie on top of him. “It'll be at this super expensive, fancy restaurant, so it means they won't yell at me or put on a show.”
“Sometimes I think you should consider what you're giving up.” He gets sad suddenly, sighing. You know what he's thinking about, and it will take time for Billy to see and understand this is what you really want.
“I'm giving up a huge house I never felt like it was mine. Lots of money that never brought me happiness.” In between the words, you place kisses all over his face. “But what I'm getting...? God, it's amazing.” Sitting up, you straddle his hips. “I got real friends now, and a home. And an awesome boyfriend who doesn't compare to the assholes on my parents' list.”
“I'm so happy I'm around to see the good daughter rebelling.” He sits up too, strong arms encircling your waist. “You look so good, little rebel.”
“You're just saying that because I'm wearing your shirt.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you raise an eyebrow. Yesterday, you decided to pick one of his shirts to put on instead of your regular pajamas.
“Babe, you look good on everything. But I gotta admit seeing you wearing my clothes is very hot.”
Smiling, you can't help but blush. “We still have a few hours, so I think we can maybe make out for a while?” Biting your lip at his smirk, you giggle.
“Starting the day off with good ideas already.” He mutters, holding you up and throwing you back on the mattress. “This is the first day of the rest of your lives, you know that, right? Because I'm never letting you go. Unless you get tired of me.”
“I don't think I'll ever get tired of you, so yes...” Caressing his cheek, you take a deep breath, the sunlight illuminating his face. “The very first day of the rest of our lives.”
•••
The morning bliss had to be interrupted. But, as you sit across from your mother at the restaurant, you don't feel scared, or nervous. You feel perfectly fine. You're not dressed for this place, you can see it in your mother's eyes, but you don't care. You like the clothes you're wearing, and your mother's disgusting stare makes you chuckle under your breath. Making yourself comfortable, you ignore the silence. Nobody is saying anything, and your father has been staring at Billy as if he could kill him with his stare.
“So... I believe you want an explanation.” You start, cupping your hands together above the table. “Billy and I are dating. And I'll be living with him.”
“Is it some kind of joke?” Your mother interrupts, leaning closer. “You can't possibly think I'll believe you'll do that.” You're about to say something when she raises a hand, and you shut your mouth. “I get it, (Y/N). Billy is good looking, he has this appeal, he's different from the guys you're used to, rougher around the edges, I get all that. But this? This is insane.”
It's only a matter of time for the insults to begin, you're aware of that. “That's not all, mother.” You add, not even considering giving her a proper answer. “I'm not going to course Law anymore. I'll look for something I actually like. And go to the public University.”
“What the–”
“I have a good job now, at a store of diving equipment and I love it.” Cutting your father short, you raise your voice just a little. “That's my life now. I'm not going back to the house, but I want you both to know that I'll visit, of course, and you can visit me whenever you want and–”
“I'm not going to let you throw your entire life on the trash because of the freaking pool guy.” Your father's voice storms out, making a few people look your way. He does seem a little embarrassed, but definitely angry. “This man–” He points at Billy, and you hold his hand under the table. “–he can give you nothing. Nothing. What do you have in life, Hargrove? I shitty job, a tiny apartment. Do you think you can provide to someone like my daughter?” There it is. The insults. And, knowing exactly what Neil told Billy, you won't let your father treat him this way.
“You wanna know what Billy gave me, father?” Smiling, you begin. “He gave me a life. I never felt truly happy, never. Not in our mansion, or those fancy galas, or wearing fashionable clothes. Never. But with the pool guy, as you call him, in his tiny apartment with his lowlife friends? I finally felt something. I finally felt life was worth living.”
“Alright.” He slams his fist on the table, glancing at your mother, a mean smile on his face. “If you insist on doing this, I'll disown you.” He giggles, a hand half covering his mouth. “You won't see any cents from me anymore. Is that what you want?”
He looks like he got everything figured out. Exchanging a stare with Billy, you can tell he's worried. Does he think you'll fall for this? Squeezing his hand a little and smiling, you try to reassure him. He must feel awful, seated here, and listening to all this shit. “I–”
The waiter comes and you're cut short, waiting for your parents to order whatever they want to eat. “Oh, finally. We'll want Muffin Pan Shrimp Ragoon. Thought I'll give my kid one last decent lunch at a decent restaurant. What do you think?”
Seriously? “I can't eat that.” You think it's so obvious, but by the look on your father's face, he doesn't get it.
“What? Do you want to order something more expensive as a goodbye to your good life?”
“She's allergic to shrimp,” Billy speaks for the first time, his voice strong and deep. Both your parents look a little surprised, but soon enough recognition comes to their faces.
They completely forgot, but it doesn't bother you. You're happy Billy actually remembered it. You only mentioned it once, at the gala. “It's alright, though. We'll have lunch by the beach.” You tell them, smiling at Billy.
“Let me guess...” He dismisses the waiter with a gesture of his hand. “Sandwiches and soda?”
“Actually, yes.” Exclaiming, you stand up, and Billy does the same. It's over. You told them what's gonna happen now, and they have to make peace with that. And if your father wants to change his will and cut you out of it, so be it. “I made them myself and they're delicious.”
“For goodness sake.” Your mother mutters, running a hand through her hair. “Honey, please think this through, alright? Your house will be opened whenever you want to come back.”
“Thanks, mom. I will visit, I promise.” That said, you smile at them before turning away, hand in hand with Billy, walking away from the table.
“You better wipe off your bank account, (Y/N), because you'll never get a penny from me again!” Your father yells, and you simply wave at him, not even bothering to look back.
When you're outside, you feel light-headed, relieved. “This wasn't as bad as it could be.” You breathe out, walking to where Billy parked his car, a block away.
“Did he mean it? About disowning you?” He sounds serious, despite the smile that's on your face.
Turning around without letting go of his hand, you start walking backward. “I don't give a damn.” Speaking slowly, you wink at him, stopping suddenly and letting him come closer by himself before grabbing the collar of his shirt and tiptoeing to kiss him, sweet and slow.
“What the– (Y/N)?” Someone calls and since you do know who it is, you keep kissing Billy for a while longer. “Holy shit.”
It makes you giggle when he pulls your closer, deepening the kiss. But eventually, you have to breathe, so you break apart, a smile on your lips.
“Care to explain why the hell you're making out with the pool guy? In public?” Daniel says as you turn to face him. He has a girl with him, but you don't know who she is. He seems better, given the time he spent held hostage. “Have you lost your mind, girl?”
Sighing, you roll your eyes at him. You have a lunch date on the beach, and you don't wanna waste any more time with meaningless people. “Yeah. I'm dating the pool guy.” You tell him, shrugging your shoulders. “Actually, I'm in love with the pool guy. And now I work at a scuba diving store, so you can come up with some kind of name for me too, but you wanna know what? I don't give a damn.” Pulling Billy harder, you start walking again. “I'd love to say that we'll be seeing each other soon, but we won't. So... Goodbye, Daniel.” Turning on your heels, you leave the couple behind.
The drive to the beach is short, and instead of sitting on the sand, you chose to seat on the hood of his car. Which he now calls Lily, and you peacefully eat the sandwiches and drink the soda. You wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world. The ocean, the sunlight, the fresh wind messing with your hair. The simple food, the hood of his car... And him. Billy is certainly the best part. Having him here is indescribable, and knowing you'll go back home with him is even better.
“So... Will you help me chose something to major in?” You ask as he helps you climb off of the hood, taking your hand and starting to walk down the beach.
“Actually, I have some fresh news coming straight from Jason.” He says, a bright smile on his lips.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you stop to look at him. “What news...?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Heeler, from the store.” Billy starts, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “They want to retire and they're thinking about passing the store over to you and Jason since they don't have any relatives. If you both agree on being associates.”
“Oh my God!” You exclaim, tiptoeing to crash your lips on his. “This is amazing.”
“Please act surprised when Jason tells you.” In a sudden motion, Billy reaches for your thighs, pulling you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Using his shoulder for balance, you giggle. “He didn't want me to tell you but I couldn't resist.”
“This is just awesome. This is...” Taking a deep breath, you take a look at the ocean. The sound of the waves crashing is low and calming, and the way the sunlight reflects on the water shines like liquid silver. Then, you look at Billy again, his smile warming up your heart. “I love you.” You haven't said it yet, but it feels like the right time. And this is how you feel. You've never been in love before, but you know how this is how it feels. Like someone owns your whole heart. “I'm not sure if you feel the same but I just need you to know that–”
“I'm completely in love with you.” Billy cuts you off, bouncing you up a little and making the way back to his car. “I have been for a while and that scared the hell out of me.” When you reach Lily, he puts you down on the hood, remaining in between your legs. “But now... I'm sure of it. I want a life with you. A future.”
Blushing, you smile, your forehead touching Billy's. “So that thing you said about me getting to pick the kid's names...” You tease, placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.
“I mean it, if...” Pulling away from a little, he locks eyes with you. “If you don't pick something silly like the name you insisted on giving my car.”
“It's not silly!” Playfully, you try to push him away, giggling when he grabs your sides, tickling you. “Alright! Alright!” After a while you manage to stop him, his hands going back to your hips. “We'll pick names we both like. How does it sound?”
“It sounds like we're talking about kids even before getting married.”
“What?” Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to process what the hell he just said. “Sorry, I thought you heard you talking about...”
“I never felt like the type for marriage but, God, I want to marry you,” Billy exclaims, connecting his lips to yours.
You have a lot to say, a lot of things to ask, but you surrender to the kiss instead. This is all the answers you need. His lips on yours, on this paradise on Earth.
California never felt like home because home isn't a place, but a person. Billy is your home. Wherever you are, if he's with you, it's the right place. Nothing else needs to be said. The life you had before vanished like smoke in the air, and this is even better than everything you could ever dream of. Not all the money in the world can buy this moment, and you don't regret a thing. Love is far more important, and now that you found it, nothing will make you let it go.
×
@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @clockworkballerina @infinitelycharmed23 @lilred91 @moatsnow
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ordinaryschmuck · 2 years
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Sense-Datum Vs. Common Sense
(I swear by everything that is holy, the following story you are about to read is a Philosophy paper I got an A- on. Don’t take its accuracy at face value. It might be an A- paper, but it’s NOT one with a boat load of effort put into it.)
Deep down in the darkest pits of Hell that every philosopher goes to, two philosophers, in particular, were each strapped to a wooden horse, forced to remain side-by-side with one another.
"Hallo, Mr. Russell," One said to his neighbor.
"Salutations, Mr. Heidegger. I see they put us together again."
"That they did. Though, I'm not sure why."
"Possibly because these devils believe that we will drive each other towards insanity with our opposing philosophies."
"Perhaps. Though, it is not like we have anything too different through our philosophical viewpoints."
"The only thing we truly disagree on comes to Cartesianism. However, it is not as though we could spend a period of eternity arguing about it."
"Of course. Especially because we can both agree that after the decades we have spent down here, Cartesianism is a flawed idea."
Russell sighs out aggravation.
"Ok," he said, "apparently, there is something to argue about when it comes to Cartesianism."
"Only because I can argue my way out of it."
"That is debatable."
"No, it is true."
"Do you even know what Cartesianism is?"
"Of course. Cartesianism is René Descartes' philosophical and scientific system, saying that we derive knowledge through the reasoning of innate ideas."
"Right. And my philosophy takes the influence of Descartes' combination of Cartesian consciousness with Epistemology, contrasting what we know in our mind with the rest of the world."
"Which is flawed."
"It is not flawed. We, as human beings, cannot know for sure what is out in the world and beyond it unless seeing so with our own eyes."
"But there is more to life than that."
"How can you say for certain?"
"Because we all have an interconnectedness with each other. An interconnectedness that gives everyone the knowledge of the world around us. And all that goes beyond it. You see, there are two types of truths, with one being material and the other being propositional. Material lets concepts accords with reality, while propositional says that truth is, well, propositional. So if something fits with what we already know and what we can see, any concept and proposition that we can not see can work with our reality."
"But, again, you will not know for certain unless you see it with your own eyes."
"Of course, I can."
"You say that propositions and concepts make our reality true, did you not?"
"That I did."
"Well, years ago, people had a concept that leeches could remove the infected blood of an individual, unaware that those same leeches come with infections of their own such as lyme disease. It is a concept deemed true by what people saw until the experience of another proved it to be false."
"So?"
"So, how can you say that concepts and propositions could be true if you do not have the experience or the definitive knowledge that it is so."
"With the evidence that others provide for me."
"But what if those people are wrong?"
"It is true, there are intentional and unintentional falsehoods that a person could present, but it is all a part of life."
"I cannot accept that."
"It does not matter if you cannot accept it. It is a part of reality."
"But that itself is flawed just like you see Cartesianism as such."
"How so?"
"Because you will not be able to tell the difference between what is true and what is false."
"Of course, I can."
"No, you cannot. The only thing we are aware of for certain is our own sense-datum. Primarily, with what we see."
"That limits our worldview."
"It may limit our world view, but it is the only way we can know something is certain. For instance, we are in Hell, are we not?"
"Very much so, yes."
"And how can we tell there are other people in Hell with the two of us."
"By the sounds of distant screamings from the tortured souls."
"We can hear people screaming, that is true. But how can we know for sure that they are people?"
"Because they sound like people."
"They sound like them, but can you say for sure that they are? They could be fallen angels paying for going against God's will, creatures from another world, or even beings of our world we have never met yet. Or even have any knowledge that they exist in the first place. As we are in this area of Hell, tied on separate wooden horses, the only thing we can know for sure is that you and I are down here."
"But you assuredly met other people down here besides me, right?"
"I have."
"So you already know there are more people down here than the two of us!"
"Oh, I already know there are more than the two of us. Or, at the very least, know that there are at least a small number of people that I have already met. But I cannot say, with certainty, that there are more than those people."
"You can, with those screams!"
"But again, I cannot know whether those screams belong to people or some other kinds of creatures. In fact, I cannot say that those screams are even real. They could be a trick coming from these demons to strike fear into my heart of what is to come of me."
"But that idea means that nothing is real unless you witness it."
"Which is true."
"Which is nonsense! There is more to the world than what two pairs of eyes can see."
"How do you know?"
"I cannot--"
"Then you just disproved yourself. You cannot claim that there is more if you cannot see more."
"I can prove it with the evidence that I have."
"Evidence which could be false."
"But it is just as likely for it to be true. It goes both ways, you see. Yes, it is hard to verify something unless you witness it for yourself. But you fail to realize that your own senses can be false as well."
"Impossible."
"No, it is true. How often did you think you've heard something, only to find out that it was in your head? Or how you thought you saw something out of the corner of your eye, only for it to be your imagination?"
"Yes, but it is your senses that confirm those things are not true. When you look around for the things that you thought you heard or believe you saw, only to find out that it is nothing, that gives you all the evidence you need to prove it is true or false."
"But what if there was something there, and you just could not see it?"
"There is nothing that I cannot confirm without seeing it."
"Really? Because there are dozens of particles in every aspect of the world. The air you once breathed before coming to Hell was filled with them. They exist, but you cannot see them."
"How do you know?"
"From research."
"Research that could be false."
"They are not false because they are backed up and confirmed by other people's research."
"Which is also most likely false unless you yourself can back it up."
"I should not have to."
"You do not have a choice! Our minds are the center of our own little universe. Everything we know and say for sure is all that we can see for ourselves."
"Sounds like a small universe."
"For all we know, it might as well be."
"But it is not! I died at a time when the space program was thriving, showing evidence that there is more to our world than Earth and all the other planets in our system. To the point where six years before I passed, they landed a man on the moon."
"Fair enough, but that evidence still could have been faked."
"You do not know that!"
"And you do not either!"
"I know! I am just--" Heidegger stopped himself, took a deep breath, and calmly looked at his neighbor. "I know. I am only trying to tell you that life is all about figuring out what is true and what is not. You might not be able to be one hundred percent sure, but it shows you a wider scale of everything we think we know. Why someone would want to limit their view like that is beyond me."
"There is no other choice! Our view is limited from the start of our lives. We cannot see the world from anybody else's eyes. Only our own."
"Even then--"
"No, you cannot argue with that. You can scream all you want about how there is more to the universe. For you and me, that does not matter because it is more than we cannot see it. It is that we cannot experience it."
"Just because you cannot experience something does not mean this view is justified. If anything, it makes a single person believe that they are the center of the universe."
"We might as well be."
"But we are not. There are dozens of beings in our world, and odds are, there are trillions beyond it. And we share an interconnectedness between all of them. We are merely cogs of a much greater machine, with everything we do making it go. To say that everything revolves around us is a selfish notion."
"Only because it is the one thing we can prove for sure."
"Perhaps, but that does not mean we should accept it. Otherwise, it limits our view and our knowledge. Let us go back to that example you used earlier to explain how medical science learned that leeches do more harm than good. How would you know that? Because if you said that you read about it or heard about it, that goes against your philosophy. You are not wrong, leeches do, in fact, cause lymes disease, but by your own logic, you would not be able to know unless you have seen it for sure."
"Ok, that was a bad example--"
"That pokes a large hole in your argument. You are right in your assumption that facts can be wrong, but you will not be able to know unless YOU prove them yourself. Case in point, you believed for years that there was no God only to find, seeing as we are both in Hell, there is one."
"I do not know how proving how my philosophy works help your argument."
"Because it helps my point. You have evidence that facts are wrong despite living your life believing it was true because of what your senses say. Senses can be just as false as facts are, and strictly relying on them hides so much more truths to the world than you know. If you have to see it for yourself, then the rest of the world, the universe even, might as well not exist."
"Might as well because, again, what is the point."
"The point is that it makes everything feel whole."
"But what does that do for me. You can call it selfish, but all that matters is one person existing. Perhaps there is interconnectedness, and perhaps there is more to the universe. It does not matter to this one person. What matters is their own life, their own problems, and everything their senses put in front of them. It might make things limited, but that is life: Being limited to your own point of view and the things that you can control."
"But--"
"Enough! You have been arguing for too long already. Hell is already torturous enough. It does not need you frustrating me because you cannot accept that you cannot talk your way out of Cartesianism or my philosophy that it inspires. For every point you make, I offer another counterpoint against it. Face it. My point is superior."
Heidegger blinks.
"Or perhaps neither is," he suggested.
"What do you mean?" Russell asked.
"We both have a point and a counterpoint to our arguments, often going back and forth on who is right and who is wrong. But maybe neither of us is right, or neither is wrong. I may not prove your philosophy is inferior, but you cannot prove mine is either. The world is vast and full of knowledge that our eyes cannot prove, but I suppose none of it matters unless it affects us personally. Or, at the very least, affects the people around us."
"My point exactly. Thank you."
"Yes, I suppose if it makes Hell any less awful, the least we can do is stay somewhat on the same page."
"I believe so as well, yes."
"Even though you are quite the rude individual."
"You are in Hell with me for a reason. You are not one to complain."
"Fair enough."
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Day 10: Used Tea Bags - Javier Pena
Day 10: Used Tea Bags - Javier Pena 
This takes place during season 3 of Narcos. Honestly I love season 3 Javier when he’s the boss and even more stressed and I just want to rub his shoulders and tell him it’s all going to be okay. 
Pairing: Javier Pena x reader 
Rating: 18+ language and implied sexual situations. 
November Writing Challenge Masterlist (Holy crap I am 1/3 of the way done!) 
Day 9: No, you don’t - Maxwell Lord 
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It was late, the sounds of cumbia played through the open window from the bar down the street. The well worn kitchen table is covered in maps, half drunken cups of coffee, a chipped plate is covered in cigarette butts, some still smoldering, and on another is several used tea bags bleeding onto the plate. The world should be sleeping but not here, here there were plans to be made. 
Javier Pena kneeled next to the coffee table flanked by Trujillo, and Colonel Hugo Martinez on his left and Chris Feistl and Daniel Van Ness on his right. A map of Cali with different routes to the airport are highlighted. The Cali police force are crooked as hell so they needed a way around them, if they got in there and actually found Gilberto Rodriquez they needed to figure a way to get him out of Cali and back to Bogota without any corruption. The only way to do that was to plan everything in secret. 
You had been assigned to work with Javier upon his return to Columbia as his assistant. Everyone had warned you before he got there about Agent Pena, saying he was an asshole, womanizer, and should have gone to jail for his involvement with Los Pepes. But, you tried to go into it with an open mind. 
When you first introduced yourself the only thing that stuck out to you was how exhausted he looked and not just physically. His eyes held a weariness that couldn’t fade from only a good night's rest. He was reluctant at first to accept any help whether it be in the form of a cup of coffee, an ashtray, or a file he had left on your desk the night before. 
But you never gave up, always thinking one step ahead of him. You handed him a file before he even asked for it, you brought him lunch before he starved to death in his office, and you always knew when he was low on cigarettes because a new pack would appear on his desk. He tried to tell you he was quitting but you both knew that was bull shit. 
When Feistl and Van Ness made their connection to ‘Natalia’ the informant inside the Cali cartel things began to move quickly. It became apparent that they needed to work under the radar on this one. They needed to find somewhere they could meet but would also be discreet and before Javier could even asked you offered your apartment as ground zero for taking down Gilberto Rodriquez. The small government provided apartment wasn’t meant to hold more than maybe two people but over the past few nights it held at least ten at all times. Not only the Colonel, and Trujillo but Pena, the DEA guys, and several loyal members of Search Bloc. 
At this point you're sure your neighbors believe you’ve become a prostitute from the revolving door of men who come through your door during the night. Especially Senora Rivera who yesterday morning gave you a rosary before telling you she is praying that you don’t get any diseases from the men you keep company. What a charming neighbor she is. You're tempted to bake her some chocolate chip cookies and ask a few Search Bloc guys to deliver them but you know that will only make it worse. 
Javi is going over the plan for the twelfth time that night and you're in the kitchen making another pot of coffee. You yawn silently to yourself before pouring the steaming magic into the cups and putting them on the tray to bring them to the men in the living room. They nod there thanks and you return the gesture taking the remaining two cups over to the window and tapping lightly. On the fire escape are two armed Search Bloc members keeping their eyes open onto the street below. They take the cups gratefully before thanking you. 
“Estrella, can you come over here?” Javier calls you. 
You turn raising one eyebrow at the nickname but you don’t correct him, “Si, what’s up?” 
“I want you to sit down and listen to the plan, if there is anything you think we missed or does not add up I need you to tell me. People’s lives could be at stake if we make any mistakes.” 
Feistl sighs loudly running his hands over his face, “Pena why the hell are you going to explain this to her? She’s not going to understand any of this!” 
You have to bite your tongue before you say something you regret. Luckily the looks the other men give him are enough to shut him up. “Because idiot it’s good to get a fresh set of eyes on these things, and she can always see things before I even think them so sit down, shut up, and let her listen. I’m sorry Estrella, can you sit please?” he gestures to the seat across from him. 
You sit down and nod your head. Javier proceeds to go through the entire plan again. Describing the whole thing from beginning to end, it was truly brilliant to use a poultry truck to transport Rodriquez to the airport, no one would be looking for a poultry truck….Except for any of the crooked Cali cops that see him being arrested. 
You interrupt Javier, “What about two trucks?” 
“What do you mean Estrella?” 
You try to prevent the blush that is slowly creeping up your neck from the new nickname, “I mean using the poultry truck is brilliant but why not have two trucks a decoy to mislead them. Someone else can drive the other truck and lead the cops on a wild goose chase while the truck containing Rodriquez goes to the airport.” 
The Colonel grabs a new cigarette before lighting it, “that's’ damn genius, they will see the truck when we arrest Gilberto but they won’t know there are two. We get them to follow the wrong truck and we are in the clear,” he smiles at you, the first smile you had seen on his face. 
Javier is just about beaming at you from across the table and you listen for several more hours as they rework the plan to include your idea. When they finish each man feels like the best plan has been laid forward and they break up the group to go home. Tomorrow would be a big day for them all and they would need to be on the road to Cali by ten AM if they wanted their plan to work. 
You walk everyone to the door, and as they leave one by one they thank you for the use of your apartment until they are all gone except for Javier and Fiestl. “Hey boss, are you leaving soon? I want to have a private talk with our hostess,” Fiestl asks gesturing with his thumb toward you.  
You frantically shake your head no begging Javier not to leave you alone with the DEA agent, “Actually I have some more things to finalize before we leave tomorrow, just ignore me it will be like I’m not even here,” he smirks at you and you are half tempted to walk across the room and slap the smirk off his face. 
Chris turns to you, “So uhm listen, I know that this is all really scary for you, but I want to let you know that we are all going to be ok. And I was kind of wondering when we get back if you’d like to go out and get a drink?” 
You try not to let the cringe show on your face, “Oh uhm Chris, thank you but I don’t really drink and uhm…” you're trying to think of some other excuse when you lock eyes with Javier across the room. Gone is the smirk and instead you see something dark in his eyes, unwavering, and you know what to say, “I’m actually already with someone else, it’s not really a public thing but I’m really serious about him.” 
Chris’s right arm comes up to scratch the back of his head, and he lets out an awkward chuckle. “It’s ok, you don’t have to lie to me. I understand.” 
“I’m not lying. This guy he...he drives me crazy, he’s better than any drug on the market I...I’m already taken, I’m his.” You can feel the burning gaze of the man on the couch and it takes all your strength not to look at him, 
Chris lowers his head nodding before turning towards the door turning at the last moment to say, “he’s a lucky man then, goodnight,” before he leaves shutting the door behind him. 
You don’t turn away from the door scared to death of what you will see behind you. You are so focused on keeping your breathing level you don’t notice Javier has gotten up and is now behind you. You let out a small yelp when he spins you around to face him. “Did you mean it?” His voice is raspy and deep from years of smoking and his cologne is deep and strong in your lungs. 
You're worried your voice will betray you but you need to get this out, “Yes...you do drive me absolutely insane, but we both know what’s been going on here, I’m yours...I’ve always been yours,” you whisper. 
The hands on your waist slide against your lower back pulling you even closer to him. You can smell the smoke, and coffee on his breath and you try to calm down your heartbeat but it’s useless when he looks you in the eyes and says, “mine.” 
You crash together, his mouth is fused to your own and every single one of your senses is screaming Javier. His taste, his touch, his smell it’s all overwhelming and you cry out when you feel him grope your breast through your shirt. His lips move towards your neck and begin nipping as his tongue tracing along the same path to the curve of your ear, “bedroom?” The raspy question breaks you from the haze and you pull him towards the small bedroom. 
The whole way your lips never break from his skin even though you both aren’t the most graceful and when you both land in the bed with a small grunt that’s the last discomfort you felt for the night, from then on it was all pleasure. 
When the sunlight streams through the sheer curtains the next morning, illuminating the bed in the warm glow of the morning. Rough calloused fingers trace patterns over the top of your exposed back and you smile before nuzzling yourself further in the warmth of Javier’s chest. He smells like smoke, leather, and cologne; an intoxicating combination. 
“I have to leave soon,” his voice is raspy and heavy from sleep. 
“I know...but I really wish you didn’t have too,” you tell him, pulling back to look into his eyes, “but when you come back you will be the man who took down Gilberto Rodriguez.”
“This better work,” he sighs, “or else I will probably be sent back stateside, I messed up once already, they aren’t going to let me do it again.” 
“You're going to succeed! Don’t be so defeatist, your amazing at what you do your-” 
“Would you come with me?” he asks so quietly you almost don’t hear him. 
“What?” you whisper. 
He takes a few minutes to collect himself before he asks again, “if I get sent home, would you come with me back to Texas? I...I am not the same person I was when I first came here. Yes, I drink too much, I smoke too much, and I can be a real asshole but I’ve never been shy about what I want. I want you Estrella.” 
You have to remind yourself to breathe before you close your eyes letting out a small sigh, “Yes, yes I would go with you Javi. Remember what I said last night? I’m yours.” 
He pulls you back towards his chest, putting a finger underneath your chin and fusing your lips together he only pulls back once to repeat the same thing he told you the night before, “mine.” 
Day 11: Walking the dog- William Miller 
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