#the murals documentary | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

berryhobii · 1 month

Text

Class In Session(jhs x reader)

Pairing: DanceInstructor!Jung Hoseok x Stripper!Black!Female!Reader

Word Count: 7.8K+

Warnings: infatuated and sweetly in love Hoseok and reader, they’re both so adorable in this, hints of self deprecation, mentions of objectifying women/strippers, mentions of stripping being a shameful job, mentions of reader having previously toxic relationships(I don’t go super in detail), lying, feelings of inadequacy, lots of sad tears and happy tears🩵

A/N: I’m here with the first part of my Hoseok x stripper!reader story. Thanks for everyone who’s been waiting. This story turned out a little more emotional than I thought but after watching Hoseok’s documentaries, I’ve been really in my feelings about him😭he’s just seems so sweet and genuine which I tried to convey here. Aside from that, the smut will be in Part 2 that I’ll upload at the same time as this so don’t worry. I couldn’t not write a stripper story and not include some sexy pole dancing and super nasty smut so please read that as well! As for reader, while I don’t explicitly mention it too much, reader is on the short side, has dark brown skin and has almond shaped eyes. Reader is also wearing wigs; a burgundy one and a gray one. I’m pretty sure that’s it! As always, criticism is welcome and please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think. Until next time!🩵🩵much love

Read the smut for this couple here!

When Hoseok first laid eyes on you, he thought two words and two words only.

Hot Damn.

His hip hop dance class was about to start, his smile bright as he greeted his students and a few people who worked at the community center. He’s only been teaching for about 6 months but everyone had been so kind and welcoming, always inviting him to join them for drinks or to the recitals at the children’s center. He loved surrounding himself with so many people who loved dance just as much as him. He got to see all types of styles at different levels of experience and it was truly eye opening. He particularly loved the ballet class. How did they stand on their toes like that? He wished he knew how to do that.

Just as he was about to enter his dance studio, a voice calling his name stopped him.

“Hobi hyung!”

He turned, catching sight of Jungkook, one of the art volunteers. He’s helped paint all of the murals inside each studio and his class were currently creating pieces for an upcoming exhibition. Hoseok’s seen some of the work and must he say, these people were incredibly talented. One painting was a portrait that looked exactly like a photo. It was breathtaking.

“Hey Jungkook. What’s up?”

“Did you hear about the new class opening in Studio B?”

He had overheard it during breaks but he didn’t know much about it. Whatever it was, he was sure it would be interesting. There were still so many styles of dance the center didn’t have so he was excited to know what kind of class it was.

“No I haven’t. Is today the first class?”

Jungkook’s cheeky smile scared him a little. The tatted man could certainly be on the mischievous side. He scared the pants off Hoseok and many others during their haunted house last year and continued to wear the ghost mask to randomly frighten Hoseok for another week.

“Yeah. Wanna go check it out?”

Well, Hoseok’s class didn’t start for another half hour. He just liked to come a little early to set up the music and look through footage of past classes to know what his students need to work on.

“Sure.” He dropped his bag in his classroom before following Jungkook back through the lobby and down another hallway. Nothing really looked out of the ordinary.

Then they reached Studio B, the wall made of glass so that you could look right inside and what he saw made his jaw drop hard enough to hurt.

Poles. A bunch of them all spread apart so that everyone had enough space.

And on the pole at the front of class was a person spinning on it upside down, legs dropped in a split. When their stilettos hit the ground, loosely curled burgundyhair whipping up and settling over their shoulders, almond shaped eyes meeting his through the glass….

Hot Damn.

“She’s smoking, right? I met her last week and she was wearing these tiny shorts that made her ass look fantastic.”

The shorts you were wearing now was making it look just as amazing. He could only imagine what Jungkook saw last week.

Your long legs looked like they stretched on for miles, ankle bootie stilettos were on your feet and your outfit was comprised of tiny sparkly spandex shorts with a matching bra.

Your clothes allowed him to appreciate the beauty of your lustrous skin, an expanse of dark umber. It was like the sun spent a little more time adoring you.

Hoseok doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so……majestic.

“She’s……woah.” He breathed out.

You must have read his lips because you flashed him a smirk, your red stained lips reminding him of the sweetest berries. He wondered how they tasted….

“Let’s go in and introduce ourselves.” Jungkook suddenly said, steering to the open door.

It took a few seconds for Hoseok’s brain to understand his native language, his eyes blinking frantically as he finally processed what Jungkook said.

“Wait what?” He gasped, rushing after the man who was already in the room. You had just caught him staring at you. As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, now he had to attempt to not stutter through an introduction? Who was he? A wizard? Only magic would be able to fight through this degree of embarrassment.

He followed behind Jungkook, contemplating hiding like a child behind their mother but then he thought—I’m a grown ass man! Why is he acting so afraid of meeting a new person? Among most people, he was incredibly social and extroverted, always happy to meet someone new. Even his students had labeled him as Sunshine after his bright smile and infectious laughter.

So why the hell were his palms beginning to sweat as he got closer to you?

Jungkook was the first to extend a greeting. “Hey, that was pretty cool. When they were constructing this room, I didn’t think it was to add poles.”

“Yeah. A friend of mine donated these after he purchased an old dance studio and turned it into a clothing store.”

“That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you and your new students. By the way, I’m Jungkook. I’m one of the art teachers.” He held out a hand for you to shake but you held your hand up instead.

“Sorry. Pole grip. Don’t want to get it on you.”

Jungkook laughed. “I get it. I’ve always wondered how you don’t slide off.”

“I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure.”

Then your eyes went to Hoseok and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt his anxious in his life. You were even more gorgeous up close.

He swallowed the block in this throat before introducing himself. “I’m Hoseok. I teach dance.” Stand up job, genius.

If you noticed his stiffness, you didn’t say anything, just nodding and smiling. “y/n, it’s nice to meet you. What class do you teach?”

What class did he teach again? It was hard to remember when your sultry eyes were staring at him like he was the last piece of cheesecake at the factory.

“Uh…..hip hop. I’m in Studio E.”

You hummed. “That’s cool. I learned hip hop back home but I haven’t done it in a while. I’d love to pop into your class one time and watch you work.”

He didn’t think he could handle that type of pressure. He was struggling to keep it together right now. Imagine him trying to dance while you watched. That wouldn’t go well.

He nervously chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah….me too.” His eyes widened at the realization of what he just said. “Oh! I-I didn’t mean it like that!”

You raised an eyebrow, a bit confused by his sudden panic. He just said he wanted to pop into your class as well. What was the issue?

“Uh okay. I’ll look forward to it.” You politely smiled.

Jungkook decided to stop this train before it crashed. “Pop into my class too. We’re doing pottery next week.”

“I’ll do that. I’ve never done pottery before.”

After a little more light conversation, your students began to enter the room, telling the men that classes were about to start. You bid them both farewell with a wave and a polite smile.

Even your smile was pretty…..

The next month passed by quickly. You had settled in nicely to the center, everyone had welcomed you warmly and praised you for offering such a wonderful class. You’ve even given a few lessons to some of the other employees.

And you actually did stop by in Hoseok’s class one evening after yours finished a little early. He was in the middle of running through a popping isolation when you quietly entered. He didn’t notice you at first, focused on making sure his students were following him closely. He also didn’t notice how your eyes ran up his tank top clad body, taking note of how his shirt stuck to him and highlighted each dip of his abs.

Hmm.

You stayed until he dismissed his class. A few of them politely bowed to you on their way out, filing out until you and him were the only ones in the room. He hadn’t noticed you yet, gulping down water with his head tilted back. Sweat dripped down his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow.

You waited until he had finished his water before you spoke, “nice work today.”

He startled. Well, more like jumped like he was being electrocuted, a small scream coming from him before he whipped his head around to see who had frightened him.

Once he saw you, he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. It was different letting Jungkook see him afraid but for you? Those were not the signals he wanted to be sending.

However, you didn’t laugh. You simply raised a perfectly done eyebrow and for some reason, he felt like that was even worse. He wished you would have laughed. Now it just felt like you were silently judging him.

Clearing his throat, he attempted to alleviate some of the awkwardness. “Hey. Um….what are you, uh, what’s up?”

“I was watching you teach. You’re really good and your students follow you well.”

That put a genuine smile on his face. He prided himself on being the best mentor for his students and having a wonderful relationship with them. They all ranged from a spectrum of backgrounds; single parents, autistic, recovering from injuries, and so many more. And he cared for and appreciated each one, his heart feeling warm at watching them grow and have fun. That’s why he loved what he did—to see others become confident in something they never thought they could do.

“Thanks. They’ve all improved so much. I cherish each one, one’s that have left us as well. I can only hope I’ve made an impact in them, no matter how small.”

“I’m sure you have. Just from my short time here, I can tell everyone adores you. You seem like a very warm person.”

He could feel the sincerity rolling off your tongue, his eyes finally stopping their nervous flickering to meet yours.

Wow. You were just….

“I can see that with you as well. Your class always looks so riveting and fun.”

“You’ve seen my class?” The corner of your lips quirked up, eyes lighting up with a curious glint.

Realization struck him, eyes widening to the size of saucers. “Ah! I mean….well, the glass, and the bathrooms are down that hall! I was just passing by.” He gesticulated with his hands, waving them around and amusing you so.

Cute.

Your little chuckle made heat rise to his ears, embarrassment eating at his stomach. He was totally blowing this! Hoseok didn’t consider himself the smoothest(obviously by how he was reacting to the short interaction) but he just knew he had more in him. He could do better but you were just scrambling his brain, making it hard for him to gather his thoughts. His family and friends would have laughed if they could see their talkative and optimistic Hoseok floundering like this in the presence of a beautiful woman.

Worrying his lip between his teeth, he contemplated asking you a question. One that could possibly make or break your small acquaintance but he felt like if he didn’t ask, he never would.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to say, “y/n, are you free tonight?” He held his breath, clenching his eyes shut and waiting for your response. Would you reject him? What if you already had a lover? What if you said yes?

After a few seconds, you answered.

“I’m not.”

Store that for his 3AM random depression parties where his brain reminded him of all of the failures throughout his life.

His shoulders slumped, letting out the breath he was holding. Humiliation immediately swallowed his small burst of confidence. Of course you weren’t free. Why would someone as gorgeous as you not have things to do?

“Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“I have to work but I’m free tomorrow night if that aligns with your schedule.”

He snapped his head up so fast that his head could have come off.

You….what?

He must have said that out loud because you repeated yourself. “I’m free tomorrow. Why do you ask?”

Wow. He didn’t think he’d get that far so now he was blanking. His mouth opened and closed like a fish in a bowl.

“Uh….” (Speak idiot! She’s talking to you! She said yes! Ask her out!)

The confidence of his inner voice did not transfer to his outer. He was still trying to comprehend the fact that you actually accepted his date proposal.

After watching him buffer for a moment longer, you decided to speak up yet again. “How about you pick me up tomorrow at 7? Here.” You reached into your dance bag, pulling out a pen and a small notepad of sticky notes, writing something down on it. Putting the pen back, you plucked off the note and stuck it to his shirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That’s all you said before turning around to strut out of his studio. He pulled the note off his chest to read it, finding your phone number written in your pretty handwriting.

A date. He was going to take you out on a date.

He had to buy a new outfit!

Hoseok’s first date with you actually went better than expected. After pacing a hole in his floor, he texted you that next morning to confirm. Part just to let you know he was still very much interested and another part to confirm if you were.

He hasn’t been on a date in forever so he spent extra time getting ready, even FaceTiming his stylist friend for some pointers.

“You look fine, hyung. Black suits you(ha!).” Jimin reassured as he smoothed the mask over his face. Hoseok called him right in the middle of his million step nighttime routine. He cared about his friends but he’d be damned if he let their worries disrupt him from preventing wrinkles.

Hoseok didn’t believe it though which was kind of defeating the purpose of the call. “Are you sure? Is this material too basic? I have a black silk one too. Would that seem too pretentious?”

Turning on his humidifier, Jimin let out a sigh. “Yes it would. I’m telling you that you look great. It’s just dinner. You’ve already made an….okay first impression. I’m sure she won’t care that much about if you wear silk or cotton.”

Jimin’s inflection reminded Hoseok on just how anxious he was about this night. He was totally gonna blow it!

“You know what? I should just wear the silk one.” Rushing over to his closet, he began tossing all of his clothes out in search of the shirt.

“Isn’t it almost 7? You’re gonna be late.”

Hoseok’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, wrist flying up to check his watch. Oh shit!

“I gotta go, Jimin!”

Jimin waved, a chuckle shaking his body. “Good luck. Chew some gum.”

Hoseok exhaled a deep breath as he stood outside of your apartment complex. He had texted you about 3 minutes ago saying he was downstairs, only receiving a ‘be down soon’ from you in response.

He tried to settle his racing heart, constantly checking himself in his side mirror and gripping the flowers he got you tighter in his hands, the paper crinkling and filling his ears with static.

Why was he so nervous? Was it because he hasn’t been on a date in a while? Or because you were so gorgeous that it made him feel like he was going to combust at the thought of ruining this date? Perhaps both.

While he was busy fussing over his hair, he didn’t even hear the clicking of your heels against the pavement.

You didn’t immediately make yourself known to him, instead watching in amusement as he smoothed down his eyebrows and constantly ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it look better. For some reason, you didn’t feel like he was vain. You actually thought he was quite adorable. Despite only knowing him in passing for about a month and hardly exchanging more than pleasantries, you found him very interesting and endearing. You could see his passion for dance, heard about how joyous and friendly he was to everyone, and witness stuttering and bashful side. You wanted to know more about him.

“Do I need to give you and yourself a moment?”

Scaring him was starting to become a little too common, much to his dismay. Was there no end to his suffering?

His body shot up rod straight, turning to face you.

“Ah! N-no! I was just….!”

This was the first time he heard your actual laugh, the music to his ears and the calm settling over the storm of butterflies in his tummy. What a delightful sound.

What was he so nervous for again?

Hoseok’s smile was winsome, lighting up his entire face and sparkling brighter than the streetlights that lined your block. As if the sun was shining in the middle of the night. It warmed your heart.

“These are for you.” He held out the delicately arranged bouquet.

Your eyes widened just a tad at the gift, pausing briefly. The slight hesitance brought his nerves back tenfold.

“Do….do you not like flowers? Are you allergic? Oh man, I didn’t even think about that! I’m sorry….I’ll just…I’ll-“

The feeling of your warm palm touching his hand made him freeze, his rambling stopping in his throat. Lifting his eyes, he was met with the gentleness of your almond shaped ones.

“No I’m not allergic.” You took the flowers from him, cradling them close and inhaling their floral perfume. “They’re beautiful, Hoseok. Thank you.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Fluttering eyelashes and a warm gaze met him, his heart thundering and ready to explode out of his chest.

“Thank you.” You whispered, flashing him a demure smile that could weaken anyone’s knees. “You look very handsome as well. I love your shirt.”

(Ha! I knew this shirt was the right choice.)

Exhaling a breath, Hoseok opened the passenger side door, holding out his hand for you to take.

And you did, your manicured hand sliding into his. He helped you into the car, making sure you were comfortable before closing the door. Rounding the vehicle, he jumped in and buckled his seatbelt, making sure yours was buckled too before starting the car and pulling off.

A comfortable silence settled in the car. Well, comfortable for you. Hoseok was almost pissing himself trying to think of a way to start conversation. The restaurant was only about 10 minutes away and the night was still young which meant there was plenty of time for you two to speak but still, he didn’t want to just sit in silence.

Ever so observant, you noticed his tapping fingers and shifting eyes. Some women would prefer a man who knew how to start and engage conversation at every moment but you were the type that didn’t mind taking the lead sometimes. Men got nervous too and not every man was the best at simple conversation which you acknowledged.

If anything, you found it sort of endearing.

“This is cute.” Pointing to the little air freshener that was clipped to the vents on his dashboard. It was a tiny horse character on top of a macaroon, a surprisingly cute addition to such a suave car.

Hoseok glanced to what you were talking about. His eyes widened, internally cursing himself for forgetting to take that out.

“Oh…uh yeah.” He swallowed thickly.

“Mang is my favorite character too.”

Okay, this had to be a dream. You were already too good to be true and he barely knew you.

“You like BT21?”

You giggled, opening your purse and digging around before pulling out your keys. The multiple keychains jingled against one another, filling the silence of the car.

Hoseok slowed down to a stop at a red light, taking this moment to turn and look at your keys.

He laughed when he saw the multiple colorful trinkets hanging from them; from an acrylic baby RJ to a snow jacket wrapped Koya, all the way to a dragon costume wearing Mang.

“Wow. You really do. And on another note, are you secretly a janitor with all those keys?”

Your hand reached out to push his arm as you both laughed. “Hey, I have you know each of these keys are very important.”

“Oh yeah?” He pointed to a random key. “What’s that one for?”

You studied it for a brief moment. “That’s uh….that’s for…” Tilting your head and furrowing your brows in deep thought, the key suddenly looking very foreign. Maybe if you act like you know what you’re talking about, you’d sound more convincing. “It…” You kiss your teeth before dropping the keys unceremoniously back in your purse. “It unlocks something.”

The belly laughter that left Hoseok was infectious, you joining in and filling the car with the cacophony of your joy. You two were so absorbed in one another that Hoseok didn’t even notice the light had turned green, the honk of a car behind him making him remember what he was doing.

Your body was slightly jerked back, your giggles dying down.

“Your janitor keys got us honked at.” Hoseok teased, glancing over at you again. It was hard not to when your face was so lit up, when your smile was so stunning.

You tsked playfully, waving your hand around. “Don’t blame my keys on your bad driving habits. That’s what you get for making fun of me.”

“Alright alright. I promise not to talk about your ridiculous amount of keys and keychains anymore……” You hummed, accepting his defeat and letting the car go silent again. “….unless we pass a school.”

“You know what?”

“My lady.” Hoseok held out his hand again to help you out of the car.

Playing along, you expressed, “Such a gentleman.”

After Hoseok gave his keys to the valet, he led you inside. You’ve never been to this restaurant before but judging by the interior and seasoned smells, you could tell you’d love it.

The host looked up from whatever he was doing at the podium, polite smile stretching across his face. “Ah, Mr. Jung. We were expecting you. Right this way to your table.”

Hoseok nodded, waving his arm to gesture for you to walk first.

You two were led to a table towards the middle of the grand space, soft piano music flowing and was that a waterfall wall? Wow, fancy fancy.

Hoseok pulled out your chair and waited for you to sit down before rounding the table to sit as well. The host gave both of you menus and informed you that your waiter would be with you shortly.

In prompt restaurant fashion, you both immediately opened your menus and scanned all of the choices.

“Have you been here before?” You asked.

He hummed. “I have. It’s one of my favorite places.”

Personally, you weren’t really the type to assume anything about someone’s dating life. Of course, sometimes that history could be useful to know since it could tell you how a person acts in relationships.

A part of you wanted to ask if this is his favorite restaurant because he brings many dates here but that was the kind of self sabotaging you were working on not showing.

“Well, it’s certainly a beautiful spot. Do you have any recommendations?”

It was like asking JLo about the imaginary block she claimed to spend her childhood on; his face brightening, head bobbing as he laid his menu out on the table to point to all of his favorites.

Honestly, you were only half listening to him, completely mesmerized by how adorable he was. Deep in your heart, you really hoped he would remain this way.

A few minutes more and your waiter came back with water, an appetizer that you don’t recall either of you requesting and to take your drink orders.

“Do you like wine? But we don’t have to drink if you’re not comfortable.”

Considerate: Check

“I’d love some. Thank you.”

“Red or white?”

Flipping your hair over your shoulder, you tilted your head, “surprise me.”

“Bring us a bottle of your finest Merlot.” The waiter nodded and wrote that down before asking if you were ready to order. “Yes. Bring us two of my usual please. Thank you.”

After the waitress left, you couldn’t help but wonder how well known at this restaurant he was to have a usual. He must really come here a lot or be someone important for the employees to know him. The host immediately knew who he was and they brought out an appetizer without either of you asking for it.

Your overthinking brain began to race; was this guy rich? Was he a celebrity? Would celebrities volunteer 3-4 days a week at a community center? While money and fame didn’t necessarily matter to you(to an extent), you couldn’t deny it would be a huge part of the relationship you might form with Hoseok.

(No! Don’t start that! Just be in the moment. Worry about all of that after this date), you thought. He’s already made a good first impression on you and there will still a lot of the date left. You shouldn’t judge him too early, especially when he’s done nothing that you would consider a red flag.

For now, you would get to know him better.

Conversation flowed seamlessly between the two of you. You talked like you were old friends, new information about each other storing itself in your memories.

You found Hoseok just as charming and happy as people described him. He shared your love of all styles of dance, specifically hip hop and street and you spun tales of some of the best years of black dance history; from the Cat Daddy to the Jerk and even the embarrassing year of the Red Nose. He listened with rapt attention, genuinely finding all of these dances incredibly interesting.

“It’s a scientific fact that you can Dougie to anything.” You informed before taking another bite of your side salad.

Hoseok chuckled teasingly with a light roll of his eyes. “I don’t believe that. I need proof.”

Pointing your fork at him, you dared, “Bet. When we have free time at the studio, I’ll prove it to you. The Dougie is never wrong and it’ll transcend time.”

“Yeah yeah.” He playfully dismissed. “Speaking of, how did you come to work at the community center?”

“One of my friends recommended I join. Her mother used to go there a lot for yoga classes. She said they’ve been looking for a new teacher and that I’d fit in with all my experience. And I wanted something to do on the days I’m not working.” Stabbing the last crispiest leaf of your salad, you brought it to your mouth.

“What do you do for work? I realized I never asked you.”

Maybe saving that piece for last wasn’t the best idea because you immediately choked on it. Hoseok made a noise of panic, grabbing your glass of water and giving it to you. Gulping down your water, you attempted to not look like you were close to dying which was harder than you thought since your diaphragm was seizing and attempting to take you the hell out of here.

“Are you okay?” He asked after you had cleared your throat and was now struggling to get that tickling feeling out.

Wiping your mouth with your napkin, you let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. Uh, I guess it went down the wrong pipe.”

Those brown eyes were filled with worry but he took your word for it, relaxing slightly.

You cleared your throat again. “You asked about my job?” Your tone was confused, as if you were still trying to process the question and you definitely were.

He nodded though, not deterred in the slightest by your previous display. “Yeah. What do you do for work?”

(Think sis! If you hesitate too long, he’ll think something is wrong!)

Hoseok was truly a great person, so honest and joyous that you felt happy just being around him. Your attraction for him was truly deepening and your hope for a relationship was climbing.

But now that he’s grown curious about your job, you worried that you couldn’t be together.

“Um….I’m a…bartender!” (Yeah that sounded convincing, you mentally chastised.)

It must have sounded genuine because Hoseok took it really well.

“Wow really? That sounds so cool. Have you been doing it long?”

A gross feeling began swirling in the pit of your stomach, all the food you’ve eaten ready to come back up.

Every lie that fell off your tongue pulled that band tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.

However, you couldn’t tell him the truth. You couldn’t ruin this, not again.

Life following that first date continued normally but with the added sugar that was Hoseok. Outside of the studio, your free time was filled with cute dates; nighttime milkshakes because he couldn’t sleep, long walks along the river which included you almost falling in trying to catch your phone, and even a few movie nights at his place where you opened the world of Wayans Brothers movies like Dance Flick and Scary Movie.

Hoseok would often pick you up on his way to the studio, you always greeting him with some kind of wacky snack you found. Your recent discovery were special flavors of KitKats from Japan. His drives used to be so quiet but now he loved how you filled the silence with your music choices and endless stories about anything and everything.

Inside the studio, you two found time between classes to joke around or grab lunch. Sometimes you even tried to teach Hoseok how to pole dance, only for him to almost hurt himself trying to flip upside down without proper core strength. The way you babied him afterwards made the fall worth it.

And yes, you did prove to him that you can Dougie to everything! He took you out for crepes as a reward for proving him wrong.

“I can’t believe you just did that to classical music.”

“Believe it. And I like strawberry crepes.”

As your relationship flourished so did your nerves about lying to Hoseok about your job. The lie hasn’t come up many times since your first date but the few times he wanted to take you out on weekends, only for you to tell him you had to work made the guilt pile on higher. Seeing how deflated he got whenever you had to take a rain check felt like a punch to your gut. How long could you lie to him about this? Your grandmother always said what’s done in the dark will eventually come to light and you truly believed that. However, how could you tell him? What would happen if he found out days or when months down the line? His trust in you would surely be broken but you just didn’t have the heart to tell him.

You knew you were probably in the process of ruining a good thing for you but the fear of the unknown outweighed all of that. Your brain couldn’t even begin to overthink all of the possibilities and your late night mental breakdown parties seemed to be a lot more lively with the added nerves.

For now, you’d just try to enjoy the limited time you’d have with him and hopefully, the truth wouldn’t hurt too much.

When Hoseok’s friends suggested they go to a strip club as a night out, at first he rejected. Now that he was on the track of dating you, he felt like going to a strip club would be a bit like cheating. You guys weren’t official yet so it technically wouldn’t be, right? At least that’s the logic Yoongi used. Apparently, they had already reserved a section without telling him so now he couldn’t refuse. Should he tell you about it first? You told him you were working tonight and wouldn’t be able to talk much but he still sent you a text just in case.

Of course, you didn’t get it since your phone was locked in your locker and your attention was on making sure your lace laid down to withstand all of the sweating you would inevitably be doing.

“y/n! You’re up in 10!”

“Okay!” You called back, moving to put on your favorite platforms and give yourself one more look over in the mirror. “Alright, let’s do this.” You whispered to yourself before removing your elastic band from your hairline, laying down your edges to perfect before exiting the dressing room. A few other girls were all leaving the stage, holding bags with their earnings in them.

“Good luck, y/n. There’s some hot guys out there. One tried to give me his credit card.”

You and some of the others laughed. Honestly, people tried to hand you credit cards more than you’d think. One time, a lady gave you her house keys wrapped in her underwear and asked you to just “sneak in past the kids and husband”. Obviously, you returned all of her things to the friends she was with and wished them a safe travel home. You did not want to be the topic of conversation for her children’s therapy.

The lights dimmed and the DJ announced you next. Since you were the headliner and the most popular dancer of the club, you got solo stages whereas the other women normally had to go on stage 3-4 at a time. Solo stages meant more money and on a weekend like this, you’d probably be able to take a small vacation to relax.

Maybe you’d invite Hoseok too…..that fluttering in your tummy bursted tenfold just thinking about him.

“Welcome to the stage, y/s/n!”

The crowd cheered and the music started. Inhaling a deep breath, you began your ascent of the steps and to the main pole in the middle of the center stage.

Show time.

When Hoseok first laid eyes on you on that stage, he felt a combination of things—shock, desire, a little betrayed, and also a little spark of something else he couldn’t quite place. He just couldn’t believe that was actually you on stage. At first, he thought it was just the few drinks he’s had clouding his vision but once you stepped into the lights, there was no denying. That was definitely you up there.

His eyes, like many of the pairs of eyes here, were focused on your graceful figure as it circled the stage. Your body flowed like a vivid koi fish, velvety and poised. You were a picture of perfection—lovely and exquisite, you were.

Your long legs looked like they stretched on for miles, white platform heels with laces going up your legs were on your feet—your outfit comprised of a baby blue t-shirt styled crop top with a heart cut out to show the expanse of your cleavage. You also wore a matching pair of shorts that barely covered your plump ass along with 2 chains around your waist.

Even through his conflicting emotions, he couldn’t deny that you were the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen in his life.

There was still things he didn’t know about you and that he wanted to learn but that was all part of the journey. He learned new things about you everyday and he wanted to know so much more.

This, however, wasn’t what he was expecting.

When your feet touched the stage, light grey hair whipping around making you look kissed by the moon, your cat like eyes met his—sharp and beguiling, calling him like siren….

He saw as your eyes widened, almost stumbling but luckily you caught yourself on the pole. However, you didn’t have time to panic. You couldn’t waste your turn so you pushed down that building anxiety and just started your routine.

You avoided eye contact with Hoseok the entire time, not even interacting with him when you crossed his group. You’ve worn tiny little dancing sets around him before but right now, you felt exposed and embarrassed. You two haven’t even kissed yet. Now you were practically flashing him and his friends were getting an eyeful too. You’d definitely wallow in your misery later.

After your set was over, you winked and blew a kiss to the crowd, absorbing the cheers. The lights dimmed and you crouched down to begin gathering your money. When you moved to the side of the stage where Hoseok’s group was, you dared to look up.

A gasp got caught in your throat when you saw Hoseok looking directly at you. One thing about Hoseok was that he wore his heart on his sleeve, you could see every emotion painted across his face.

And the main one you saw was hurt. His eyebrows were furrowed, pretty brown irises searching yours. That anxiety you had repressed earlier was starting to bubble back up, guilt making you feel sick.

You dropped your head, quickly gathering the rest of the money, you shoved it all in the bag, probably missing some but you didn’t care. You just had to get out of here.

Shame burned at your chest as you rushed back into the dressing rooms, ignoring the other’s praises and just hightailing it to the bathroom. It was empty, thank goodness, so no one could see you cry.

You had messed up. You lied to him, the first real connection you’ve had seen you moved here. Why had you lied to him? Now he knew and you were positive he’d never want to speak to you again.

Why would he? You were a stripper—you dressed in barely there clothing and danced for money. You didn’t necessarily feel ashamed of your job but it was different when it was just strangers knowing you vs people from your personal life. There was a lot of negative stigmas around your profession. Weird considering people filled clubs by the boat load and had no issue handing their money to the dancers. Then again, societal standards weren’t known for being very consistent.

But still, you didn’t want Hoseok to judge you because of what you did. He probably wouldn’t but your insecurities told you otherwise.

Wiping your tears, you went back to the dressing rooms, going to your locker. You unlocked it and began gathering your things, deciding to call it a night. You’d just tell your boss you started your period or something, he didn’t even know what an ovary was so you doubted he’d question you.

After changing out of your clothes, you bid the others goodnight, ignoring their confused looks and exiting through the back entrance. Your car was parked kind of far. You did that on purpose to prevent creeps from figuring out where you worked, you also often parked in busy garages just in case someone decided to follow you. It’s happened a couple of times and thankfully nothing has ever gotten physical.

You pulled your jacket around you tighter, the wind blowing a bit hard today and making your nose feel runny. You just wanted to go home and drown yourself in all of the snacks your dad sent you from America.

“y/n!”

You froze at the call of your name, recognizing that voice immediately. You couldn’t mistake that for anyone else.

A part of you wanted to run but you knew that wouldn’t be right. You were an adult and you needed to face your issues like one.

You slowly turned around, finding Hoseok jogging towards you. He looked so handsome. Too bad you’d lose him soon.

He stopped in front of you, breathing a little heavily from his small burst of exercise. Your eyes couldn’t lift to meet his, your waterline tingling as tears threatened to rise. Now that he was standing before you, nerves and shame engulfed your entire body. What would he say to you? Would he call you disgusting and demand you tell him why you lied? Would you tell you to lose his number and to never call him again? You don’t think you’d be able to handle that but you knew it’s what you deserved for lying.

“H-Hoseok….I…” You started but your throat tightened up as the reality of facing him began to settle. What could you even say? Nothing would justify you lying to him so it was best for you to just tell the truth and leave before you embarrassed yourself further.

“Why did you lie to me?”

There it was. Out of the billions of things he could have said to you, that was the one question you weren’t prepared for. Hell, you weren’t really prepared for anything at this point.

Swallowing thickly, you began, “Hoseok, I’m so….I’m so sorry I lied to you. It’s just…..I was scared of telling you what I really did because….I thought you’d think I was some kind of bad person.” That was putting it lightly. You’ve been called much worse than that.

He remained silent and you couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing but you figured you’d continue while you still had the “confidence”.

“To be honest, I’ve told the few people I’ve met before and they’ve always treated me like some sort of toy or they’ve acted disgusted by me.” Your body shivered at some of the disgusting things that have come out of people’s mouths when they found out you were stripper. You know your job was practically you sexualizing yourself but that didn’t mean you wanted it in a relationship. You were more than your job but a lot of people couldn’t see past that. “And I was scared that you’d do the same.”

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your eyes to lock with Hoseok’s. He hadn’t really made a move since you began talking, his own eyes still looking conflicted.

“And I like you so so much, Hoseok. You’re such an amazing person. Call it selfish but I just didn’t want to lose you. You’re the first person I’ve ever truly had feelings for and I wasn’t ready to let that go. And I’m so genuinely sorry that I lied to you.” You wiped your tears, averting your eyes once again because looking at him was starting to become too much. “I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”

A pause. A tension. A silence so thick that you could hear the blood rushing through your veins and your heart booming in your chest.

Hoseok truly didn’t know what to say to you. There were so many things he had questions about and so many things he wanted to say but his mind was still racing from all of the information he’s absorbed within this one night.

“y/n…..”

Clenching your eyes shut, you held your breath. Here it comes.

“Who says I don’t want to see you anymore?”

A gasp flew from your lips, your head snapping up to look at him so fast that your neck cramped a little.

You were sure your confusion showed clearly on your face, your eyes searching his face for any sign of dishonesty. Then again, you wouldn’t be surprised if he gave you a taste of your own medicine. You’d probably deserve it.

Yet that serene smile he sent you would make you believe anything he said.

“W-what?”

Reaching his hand up to rub at the back of his neck, he sighed. “Yeah sure I’m upset that you lied and yeah your job is definitely surprising but….” His eyes seemed to sparkle as they looked at you, full of adoration and sincerity. “I like you for you, y/n. You’re also the first person I’ve ever had real feelings for and I wouldn’t want to lose you either.”

He reached out to grab your hand, lacing your fingers together and bringing them up to place a kiss on the back of yours.

“You’re the perfect person for me. Your job is a little jarring but I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want to be with you. As long as you’ll have me.”

Doubt. That’s what you always felt as you walked in and out of relationships. You doubted yourself. You doubted others. You doubted if you even deserved a tender love, if you deserved someone to call your own.

But hearing Hoseok’s sincere words, feeling his soft hands, and gazing into his eyes, the only emotion could you feel was overwhelming relief.

You were so relieved.

You couldn’t stop the tears, leaning your forehead on Hoseok’s shoulder to which he wrapped his arms around you and tightly hugged you.

“I’m so sorry, Hoseok.” You sniffed.

“I know. I accept your apology.”

He smiled as your body shook with tears. Truth be told, he had a feeling something was off. The way you’d slightly panic whenever he’d invite you somewhere on the weekend or how you’d quickly redirect the conversation whenever he’d ask you to show him your bartending skills. Something told him you were lying but he didn’t want to pressure you too hard. You were still in the newer stages of your relationship and he was trying to be careful about how he approached you. Whatever it is you were keeping from him, he assumed it was personal and that was okay.

While he wasn’t expecting this big of a discovery, he was secretly happy it wasn’t something completely out of pocket like you being a drug dealer or something. A stripper wasn’t that bad especially considering what you taught at the studio.

He did like you. A lot. You were joyous and funny and he loved spending time with you. Those feelings weren’t gonna go away just because of what you did for work.

After all of your tears had dried up and your sinuses had been blocked from the crying, you pulled away from Hoseok.

He smiled that bright smile and teased, “all done?”

Pouting, you nodded.

“Great. Now why don’t we get from the middle of the street because people have been staring at us weirdly.” He informed with a laugh which made your eyes widen, looking to the side to find a small group of people looking at you both.

Burying your head back in his neck, you groaned. Wow, you didn’t know if this night was getting better or worse.

Hoseok squeezed your hand again, your teary eyelashes fluttering at him and he gave you that wonderful smile.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Okay.” You dreamily sighed.

Hand in hand, you two walked away. Both from the pain and into the future where your lives would forever be intertwined.

#bts #bts x black reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts imagines #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #jung hoseok

73 notes · View notes

londonedge · 1 year

Photo

A portrait mural alongside a Lime bike, Shoreditch

#London #shoreditch #mural #portrait #bike #bicycle #lime #urban #urban photography #documentary photography #England #UK

58 notes · View notes

illuminatedquill · 1 month

Text

Story Summary: It has been 10 years since Lothal was liberated from the Empire. As the annual memorial ceremony marking this historic event approaches, close friends and associates of the legendary Rebellion hero, Commander Ezra Bridger, are interviewed for a documentary being made to celebrate his life and achievements. Captain Garazeb Orrelios, a close friend and comrade of Ezra Bridger, has volunteered his time for the first interview.

First of a Five-Part Interview Series

The dive I find Captain Garazeb Orrelios, call-sign Specter-Four, is far from the Galactic Core and serves a peculiar type of clientele: current and former Republic fighter pilots, smugglers, Mandalorians, and any who find themselves wandering beyond the usual travelled routes of the galaxy. Sitting on a non-descript barren planet floating in the middle of an otherwise empty sector of space, the establishment has gained a remarkable reputation of being a "neutral place" among the people who live out here beyond the prying eyes of the New Republic. Mandalorians, bounty hunters, and even some of the more reputable smugglers all habit here semi-regularly.

Noting the name of the establishment before stepping inside from the arid heat, I am greeted by the murmur of quiet, friendly talk. The space inside is half-filled, scattered with an eclectic array of different species wearing the colors of their chosen affiliations.

I spot Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios waiting for me by the bar. Next to him is his partner, Aleksandr Kallus, an Imperial defector who once worked for the infamous Imperial Security Bureau. They wave me over to begin the interview.

Captain Orrelios; Agent Kallus. A pleasure and privilege to meet you both.

[Kallus nods in acknowledgement and sips at his drink. I get the sense he is studying me closely.]

Ah, don't mind him. Just old habits from the war. You can just call me 'Zeb', by the way. All my friends do.

If you don't mind, then I'll do just that.

Sounds great. So, you're here to talk about that goober, eh? About time he got a documentary. Deserves one, just like that Skywalker fellow everyone's talking about.

Goober? You mean Commander Ezra Bridger?

Oh, we're using the official title for him are we? He'd have a good laugh about that. 'Goober' is a nickname me and Sabine used for him. Cause he was a goober - it just fits, you know? Oh, he hated it at first but grew into it over time. Especially since Sabine used it so much. Said it made him feel special, when I asked him about why he didn't seem so bothered by it anymore. She didn't have nicknames for anyone else on the crew. That was always used just for Ezra . . .

[Kallus nudges him with an elbow. The Lasat shakes himself and looks embarrassed.]

Uh, you're not here to listen to all that, though. Sorry. Getting lost in old memories. I figure you want to hear the more interesting stuff.

No, this is perfect actually. This is definitely what I would want to hear in a documentary about Ezra Bridger.

Well . . . if, you're sure. Go on, ask me some questions then. You want to know how we first met?

I'd appreciate if you just wanted to talk more about Ezra himself. What kind of person was he?

[Zeb takes a moment to think about this. Then he points up towards the ceiling, where a row of various stormtrooper helmets - all different designs - hang from strings like grim trophies. With a small smile, the Lasat reaches up and taps one of them, a scout trooper variant.]

He was a thief. When we first met him; a street-rat that hit up the occasional unlucky Imperial patrol for food and supplies. Plucky little kid, if you can imagine, stealing from these Imps and bucket-heads. They would have shot him dead if they caught him - or worse, considering what he turned out to be.

I'm sure you've seen Sabine's mural on Lothal. How strong and serious he looks. Ezra was that, sure, but he was so much more also. If he ever comes back, I'm sure his head will swell just seeing how good she made him look.

He had a collection of these helmets when we took him on the Ghost. Sabine painted a few of them, as a gift. They were always his favorite. Over the years, as he grew up and the war continued, the collection stopped growing. Our enemies were multiplying . . . the goober needed to focus. So, I started to collect them for his sake.

[I observe the collection of helmets and note that there must over a dozen different variants hanging from the ceiling. Almost every type of stormtrooper design is present from the Empire's reign. Some of these would go for an astonishing number of credits on the black market.]

It's quite the collection. I'm sure Ezra would love seeing these.

Yeah. Took a bit to get all of these. He was just a kid, you know? I don't have any other input for this documentary, but I really want you to emphasize that Ezra Bridger was just this pipsqueak when he first joined. None of us knew what would happen to him, or what he would do. Not even Kanan.

He was just a kid who needed a home. So, we gave him that. I didn't always do right by him - to be fair, he was kind of annoying at times like most humans his age - but I hope . . . I hope he knows that I wouldn't change a thing about any of it. He was our kid. We loved him.

[Kallus pats the Lasat's shoulder affectionately. Zeb clears his throat, looks away for a moment to compose himself.]

I know you'll probably want to focus on the more heroic aspects of him, but that's how I remember Ezra. He was a goober. He was a kid. He and Sabine shouldn't have been fighting this war; sacrificing so much for it. That's the job for us adults. We're supposed to be making this galaxy a better place for them. Not the other way around.

A thief turned rebel. It's not an uncommon story for those who served in the Rebellion. The Specters were an already diverse group of individuals -

Not individuals. We were a family. Not in the literal or traditional sense, though. Sure, Kanan and Hera took on a more parental/mentor role in the group and, to some extent, you could view Ezra and Sabine as their kids. But it was also more than that. We were more than that.

We bled, suffered, sacrificed, and cared for each other. We cried for each other. And, yeah, we annoyed the kriffing stuffing out of each other. It was . . . in some ways, it was more fulfilling than my time as an honor guard.

How did Ezra fit into your group?

Heh, not easy at first. Hera was the only one who really made an effort at first. Kanan was still reluctant to take him on as a student, despite Ezra being gifted in the Force. Sabine - well, she's Sabine. Also didn't help that the goober had the galaxy's biggest crush on her during those early months.

Poor kid. Looking back on it now, I suppose I could have been nicer. He had to share a room with me, you know. I'm a huge snorer.

[He chuckles at this, sharing a look with Kallus. His partner just rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his drink.]

Yeah, it was rough for that first year. Everyone sort of eased into having him around as a permanent crew member after they had their own special moments with him.

Me and him - we stole a Tie Fighter one time, did you hear? That was a fun joyride. We were sent out to get meilooruns for Hera and . . . things sort of spiralled from there, heh.

When Hera and Kanan found out we were both sentenced to cleaning duties for a solid month. But that wasn't the event that really brought Ezra closer to the crew.

What was it then?

[Zeb takes a long sip of his drink, suddenly looking sad.]

Finding out about his parents. We didn't know . . . none of us know, until we caught up with Ryder - Governor Azadi Ryder, I should say - later on. They were still alive, incarcerated in a max-security Imperial prison somewhere.

After Ezra sent out his message to the sector, they must have heard him somehow. They rallied the other prisoners, started a riot. Ryder was stuck in there too; managed to escape because of their efforts.

Mira and Ephraim Bridger are listed as -

Still missing, I know. But they're dead. Ryder says he saw it happen, and we have no reason to disbelieve him. I know there was no record or recovery of their bodies. Believe me, we tried looking. Once the war ended, Hera and I tried to track down any lead to see if we could find anything - even just a scrap of their clothing for Ezra's memorial.

Nothing. They were lost, just like the countless others the Empire buried.

Just you and General Syndulla? What about Commander Wren?

She was . . . she was dealing with her own personal loss, at the time. We extended the invitation, but she never responded.

I thought the Specters were like a family? But records state that you all went your separate ways after the Battle of Lothal. You led your own squadron of pilots, while Hera Syndulla was promoted to the rank of General. Commander Wren -

Sabine was the only one to stay behind, yeah. We found a holo-recording, stashed away in his old comm-tower. Left there just for her. She changed after watching it. Hera and I never knew what he said to her.

Hera had Jacen not too long after that battle. I took Kallus back with me to La-Liresan, to help fortify their defenses, gather volunteers, and coordinate supplies with the Rebellion. And Sabine . . . well, she had her promise to Ezra to keep.

We lost Kanan and Ezra so quickly, one after the other. It just hurt too much for us to stick together after so much loss. We were all living reminders of what had been sacrificed. And staying on the Ghost - it felt too big, too empty without those two.

[The Lasat takes another big swig of his drink. Kallus glances at him, worried.]

I don't know how Sabine does it. Living there. She never went back home. She could have - but the crazy girl chose to stay. And she lost so much afterwards, too . . .

We all had our own things to focus on after the battle. The war had begun in earnest. The Rebellion had declared itself on a galactic stage after the Battle of Yavin. We were on the run, fighting for our lives, fighting to see another day.

Hera and I . . . we made the choice to move on. She had Jacen, alongside her duties as a Rebellion General. And I found new purpose with protecting my resurrected people on their new planet. We had to move on. Ezra would have wanted us to move on.

Do you remember the last conversation you had with him?

[Zeb seems to shrink within himself.]

I - I don't. I hate that I don't. I can't remember if we spoke before Kanan's death, or after. When Kanan died, everything else after that just turns to a blur.

You'll want to talk with Hera or Sabine, if you're looking for specific details about any of that before his . . . his disappearance.

Official New Republic record states that Ezra Bridger died during the Battle of Lothal. You believe otherwise?

[Kallus' gaze snaps to me, intense. I plow forward with my questions, trying not to show how unnerved I feel from the former ISB's agent scrutiny.]

I don't know. I want to believe, you know? But it's been so long. No one who has disappeared into the Unknown Regions has ever come back. Not even Thrawn came back. Wherever they went . . . there would have been a sign, I know it. Ezra's a smart kid, he would have figured out a way to send a signal or something.

Did he inform you of his plans before he left? Anything about where he planned to take Thrawn?

Ha! That was the whole point. Crazy goober. Part of me thinks he was making it up as he went along. But Ezra was a Jedi. A damn good one, too. Kanan would have been proud to see him at the end, leading the way for everyone.

To answer your question: no. Ezra didn't tell us anything about where he and the purrgils were heading off to. I don't think even he knows. Only the Force knows.

You never went looking for him?

[Zeb is silent, staring into his drink. Kallus watches his partner quietly. After a long moment, he stands up abruptly.]

I tried.

[Zeb turns and leaves through a back door leading into the kitchens. Kallus sees him go and then turns back to me.]

It's a sensitive subject for him, you have to understand. He wanted to look for Ezra.

Why didn't he? Ezra Bridger was his friend.

I forbade him. He was going to get himself killed. Zeb kept volunteering for missions farther and farther from the Galactic Core. Hera and I realized that he was scouting in the Outer Rim, looking for signs - any trace of Ezra Bridger or Grand Admiral Thrawn.

He got too reckless. People on his squadron almost died. After that, he was forced into retirement. Hera's intervention is the only reason he's not rotting away in a New Republic prison right now.

Zeb retired and settled out here? I don't understand. Why didn't he go back home?

[Kallus signs, takes another sip of his drink.]

He's still looking for Ezra, in his own way. Zeb had to get creative, you see. He had been stripped of his license to pilot. So, he found a plot of land on a planet no one was interested in and bought it with his pension. Pitched the idea of a bar for New Republic pilots flying patrol missions way out here as a place to rest and recharge; a chance to stretch their legs, after spending hours in a cramped cockpit.

Pilots who have been flying all over the Outer Rim. Who have probably seen and heard a few interesting things in the course of their duties.

Now you get it. He owns this bar, listens to all the folks who come in. Still looking for leads - anything he thinks could lead to Ezra.

He even named the bar in memory of him. I think he hopes that Ezra might wander through this sector in space someday, see the bar's name, and get curious. A fool's hope . . . but I dare not take it away from him.

But he can't follow up the leads himself, since he no longer can fly.

Correct. So, he sends the information to the one person who is still looking for Ezra Bridger.

Which is . . .

Sabine Wren.

[He pauses, thinking for a moment.]

Are you planning on interviewing her for this documentary?

Yes, of course. It wouldn't be complete without her. Why?

I advise caution. She was the most affected by Ezra Bridger's . . . absence. Time and further tragedies have not made her kind or open to company of any kind. Even from close friends.

[There's a yell from the kitchen. Zeb stumbles out, covered in soot.]

Kallus, the blasted caf maker is malfunctioning again! Help me out here, would you?

[Kallus sighs and rises from the bar. I take this as my cue to leave.]

Oh, by the way. I haven't heard anything regarding this documentary. It seems rather hush-hush for something like this. I've been asking around and no-one seems to know anything.

It's meant to be a surprise for the citizens of Lothal. The anniversary is coming up. My benefactor suggested it as a gift, to help commemorate Ezra Bridger's heroic sacrifice for the planet.

[He narrows his eyes at me.]

A surprise, hmmm? I'm sure. And who is this gracious benefactor supplying the funds for this project?

I'm sorry, I can't disclose that. They are a private person. I hope you understand.

[The former ISB agent stares me down. After a tense second, he relents.]

My apologies. Old habits die hard. If it's alright, could you send a copy to me and Zeb for review once all this is finished? It would be greatly appreciated.

I'll be sure to do that. Convey my sincere thanks to Zeb, if you can.

Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prevent my partner from burning this establishment down.

Leaving the way I come in, I turn around outside the old bar and take a quick picture, for my own record, of the name now that I know the origin behind it:

EZRA'S ROOST

END OF INTERVIEW 1

NEXT INTERVIEW: GENERAL HERA SYNDULLA

AFTER-REPORT

PRIVATE CONNECTION ESTABLISHED

The Benefactor: Were there any issues?

?????: None. Although the agent accompanying Orrelios seemed suspicious at times. I managed to prevent any further inquiries into my work, however.

The Benefactor: Kallus is intelligent and extremely competent at what he does. Do not underestimate him. It is likely he will continue investigating behind the scenes.

?????: Still unsure what it is you're looking for with these people. Seems like they don't have the information you're seeking. The Benefactor: That is for me to decide. Continue with your work.

?????: Of course. Logging out now.

CONNECTION TERMINATED

#sabezra #garazeb orrelios #aleksandr kallus #sabine wren #ezra bridger #hera syndulla #sabezra fanfiction #star wars rebels #ahsoka #ahsoka show #the interview: part one

38 notes · View notes

fairyysoup · 2 years

Note

thoughts on an Eddie with a pastors daughter? 👀

ahaha. this started as a headcanon post and then the smut popped off and then my hand slipped and now it's too long to even be a drabble so. boney apple teeth

the pearl rosary

pairing(s): eddie munson x pastors daughter!reader

summary: Eddie's not religious, but he'll listen to you praying all day.

words: 3.7k

warnings: explicit (18+ MINORS DNI), smut, unprotected sex, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fluids play, choking, pull-out, dom!eddie, perv!eddie, mild stalking, sacrilege, religious themes, praying during sex, rosary used as a leash, hozier references ofc

Eddie doesn't go to church, okay? The only thing even slightly religious about him is the cross on his finger, and that's just for looks. He doesn't know a lot about religion besides what he read about Jonestown (that was a whole fixation he had one summer that still persists, don't ask him about Jim Jones unless you want a full in-depth, documentary narration-style explanation of the entire thing.)

Does he believe in a god? Debatable.

He does attend church one time, though, and it's at the behest of Uncle Wayne, who was invited by a coworker's wife. He owes it to Wayne for bailing him out the last time Hop arrested him for possession anyways.

The church is tucked away in some trees and has really intricate stained glass windows, so the only light that comes in is a pretty sort of violet, that washes everything in an ethereal glow. The pews are tiny and the air is heavy with incense, and it feels a little like the new age spiritual shop he wandered into one time in Indianapolis to look at the hand crafted bongs. (Alas, he still wants one.)

He's distracted by the murals all over the walls, though. Nobody ever told him religious art was so horrific. There’s a guy being stabbed to death, angels fleeing from the scene as his murderer drives a knife through his chest. Under the painting, there’s a plaque that reads The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew.

But then you shuffle past, and he's completely distracted by something else entirely.

He's always been a sucker for the sweet-and-innocent type, and you fit the bill completely. Mary-Janes and a bow on the front of your blouse and everything. You're holding something that looks like a necklace in your hands with a crucifix on it. It's this really pretty pearlescent color that shines milky white the purple light from the stained glass windows, cascading over your knuckles and reminding him, perversely, of when he comes all over his hand while jerking off, and jesus h-

He's in a church.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something to get your attention, but then he clears his throat and sounds a little like he's gonna choke up a hairball, and you turn to look at him with this absolutely horrified look on your face. There's a moment where you stare at each other- him, fist against his mouth, trying to come up with something to say and dying inside a bit, and you just trying to figure out what this guy, who looks like a Guns N' Roses reject, is doing in your dad's church.

Eddie finally collects himself enough to say, "I, uh. I like your necklace."

You look down at the rosary in your hands, and you giggle. "Thanks, but, uh... they're prayer beads. It's... really bad form to wear them as a necklace, actually."

Eddie feels stupid. "Oh, right."

Bless him, you can tell that he's trying. He also looks immeasurably uncomfortable to be there, and like he wasn't sure how to even dress- Wayne wouldn't let him wear the battle vest or the leather jacket or a band shirt, so he's sporting no outerwear and a plain black shirt and black jeans.

The rings are still on, though. You motion to them. "I like your cross."

He smiles at you prettily. "I like yours. What prayers do you say with the beads?"

You manage to explain most of how to pray the rosary to Eddie by the time your father steps up to the podium to start his sermon, and the entire time Eddie’s staring at you like you’re something precious. And that's pretty much how it begins.

Now, Eddie's not going to keep coming to church just to talk to you. He's a little selfish in that he's not gonna bore the shit out of himself for a couple words from you every Sunday. He's not religious, and he won't pretend to be for your sake.

It's okay. You like it that he's not religious.

He sees you in town. Goes out of his way to bump into you when you're running errands, more like- in the grocery store, walking out of the hair salon, going to the library. He tries to be as helpful as he can, opening doors and carrying your books and bags and such.

(He cornered Mrs. Walker, who invited him and Wayne to church in the first place, and asked her very pointed questions about you. She sang like a canary. He finds out your dad is the pastor of the church, and that makes it even worse. It makes him want you worse.)

You always look so cute and proper, your hair done up all nice and your outfits neat and tidy. He can't help it. He wants to ruin you.

He doesn't recognize you from school, so he takes the opportunity to ask you one day when he crosses paths with you. "I go- went- to Our Lady Of Peace in Indianapolis. Graduated last year, though."

Be still his beating heart. An all-girls private school.

To his pleasure, he discovers that you're something of a flirt, in your own way. You're quick to give him a gentle ribbing or start preaching at him, "did you read your bible quotes today, Munson? Say your Hail Marys?" although there's no real weight to your words. Sometimes he wonders if you’re really as religious as all that, or if it’s just for appearances to make your father happy.

You could just be a bit of a brat, but he'll figure it out eventually.

What makes him finally lose all composure, though, is the day he sees you coming out of Circle K while he's smoking outside of it. Y'know, like you do during the summer in Hawkins, Indiana.

He's not.. he's not spying on you, no siree. Just because you happen to exit the gas station with a slushie in one hand and a bunch of grocery bags in the other, while he's flat on his ass on the curb beside the ice freezer, does not mean he's spying on you.

You're wearing this sweet white number with purple flowers on it, a scooping neckline and a skirt that hits just below your fingertips. Very fetching, but still modest for the summer of '86. Until a breeze blows.

Your hands are too full to catch your skirt in time, and a little squeak leaves you when your skirt blows up a bit, Marilyn Monroe-style. Eddie glances up as he takes a puff of his cigarette, and gets a full view of your bare ass, no panties in sight. And he nearly sucks his entire cigarette into the back of his throat.

What. On God's green Earth.

His voice is already shaking by the time he manages to quit coughing long enough to say your name, and you whirl around, looking like you've just been caught at the devil's sacrament or something.

"Eddie. Did you-? What are you doing down there?"

"Taking in the view." He points across the street. There's a cow grazing in a field. Good ol’ Hawkins scenery. "Need help with those bags?"

And that's how he gets you into his car.

Now, Wayne has done very well to raise Eddie as a gentleman. That's not to say Eddie isn't still a pervert, because of course he is, but he doesn't proposition you immediately.

He waits for the tension to get unbearable. And then he propositions you.

Your skirt rides up your thighs, drawing his eyes toward you more than the road. He wants his head to be between them more than anything, knowing fully well that you have nothing on beneath that little scrap of fabric. You keep staring at his fingers on the steering wheel, the way his clunky rings tap on the metal, the way the tendons in his wrist flex when he tightens his grip.

You catch each other looking at the same time. His smirk turns absolutely devilish.

"You really want to go home, sweetheart?"

You tell him to pull into the church parking lot. Mostly because you know the church is empty right now and there's some tree cover around it, but also because it's just so damn filthy. All the things you want to do to him, all the pent up sexual frustration, and you have this beautiful boy in the car beside you, all to yourself. You can hardly contain yourself.

Eddie barely gets the car in park before you're sliding across the seat and swinging your leg over his lap. He can feel the damp heat of your wet cunt pressed against the fabric of his jeans, and he nearly creams himself right there. Your lips are on his and he can taste the cherry flavor of your slushie on your tongue, the coolness of it from the ice almost refreshing in the summer heat.

He's wanted this for weeks. He didn't figure you'd be the one to kiss him first.

"Not such a good little Christian girl, are you?" His voice is hard, but his hands are soft when they slide under your skirt and cup your bare ass. "What would daddy think?"

You whimper. You really don't want to be thinking about your dad right now, because it just reminds you how wrong all of this is. How you ran into the ladies' room to take off your panties and shove them into your purse as soon as you saw Eddie outside the Circle K. How guilty you're probably going to feel after all of this raw heat and tension is over-

But then Eddie rocks you against him, and the feeling of his stiff cock grinding up against your bare cunt through his jeans has all thought of regret and guilt flying out of your head

"See what you do to me, dirty girl? Going around with no panties on under this skirt. What if someone saw you, huh?"

Someone did see you. That's why you're here.

He lets you kiss him, grind against him, as much as you want. And you'll admit, you're starved for it. Not a lot of hard-ons to rub up against in an all-girls school, and ever since you graduated you feel like you've been under lock and key. You just need so badly to let go, even for just an afternoon.

When Eddie finally pulls his cock out of his pants, you’re practically panting into his mouth. Your hands twisting the front of his shirt in your fists, you can barely stop rocking against him long enough for him to drag his length through your dripping folds.

“Christ, how are you so wet?” Eddie hisses, his hips bucking as he tries to position you properly.

“Language,” you have the presence of mind to whimper, a weak reminder of where you are. Though, the sound of him swearing only gets you more turned on.

He scoffs. “You expect me to believe you care about that? Look at what you’re doing, sweetheart.”

His cock stretches you so wide. It’s not your first time- which was painful, and awkward, and the exact opposite of sexy in any sense- but heaven help it if it isn’t the best you’ve ever felt. Your eyes fall to where you’re joined, skin flush against skin, your cunt wrapped around him and welcoming him even further.

You want to move. You have to move. It’s the only thing that’s right.

“Eddie,” you whisper, your voice sounding too strained and weak in your throat. Your hands shake, tugging at his shirt. Your face burns. You want him naked. You want to feel his skin against yours.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good for me,” he coos softly, gazing up at you with wide, dark eyes as he pulls you closer to his chest. His hand strokes across your face, a soothing touch to calm your overwhelmed system. “Have you said your prayers today?”

You open your mouth, but all that comes out is a rush of breath when he rocks you forward against him, his cock brushing up against something impossibly soft and sensitive inside you.

“You better say them, sweetheart,” Eddie encourages gently, his hand leaving your face to reach for your purse, on the seat beside him. His fingers latch around pearlescent beads, dragging them slowly out of the bag. “Just to be on the safe side, hm?”

A pair of pink panties comes tumbling out of the bag, snagged on the crucifix at the end of your pretty rosary. Eddie smirks, snatching them up before you notice what he’s found.

You’re too focused on the feeling, starting to rock on his lap so that his pubes grind up against your clit, searching for some sort of stimulation because he won’t move. Truthfully, it’s not because he’s lazy, it’s because Eddie wants to watch you use him. He’s getting off on the thought that you’ve been dying for it just as much as he has. He likes seeing you so desperately needy, taking your pleasure from him and working yourself on him, when you’ve been trying to appear like an innocent little good girl all this time.

You don’t feel the string of beads until they’re digging into your skin, the loop thrown over your head and wound around your neck. Eddie’s clutching them, pulling you down against his lips by the chain of pearls.

“Eddie,” you whimper, your hands clawing up to cup his jaw. “Not a necklace. Bad form.”

“Bad form?” he parrots at you, rolling his hips up to meet yours. You both moan in tandem, and his hand slides up the chain of pearls to tighten it around your throat like a choker. “Bad form to be riding my cock in a church parking lot, angel.”

You think you could die right here, but you don’t know which way you’d be going after the fact.

“Go on, baby,” Eddie says lovingly, lifting the crucifix to your lips as if he isn’t tightening the chain around your neck with his other hand. “Show me how you pray. I think I’ve got a lot to learn.”

Your breath doesn’t want to come into your lungs, stuttering across your lips when he hitches you up by the hips and tugs you back down onto him. You grasp the crucifix with a shaky hand, closing your eyes as if it’ll make what you’re doing any less sinful.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven-” a whine punches from your chest when he thrusts his hips up into yours. “Hallowed… hallowed be thy n-name..? Thy kingdom come, thy will be done. On Earth, as it is in Heaven.”

“My god,” Eddie whispers, and you have the mind to smack him. He listens to you recite the prayer to the end, fingers stroking the crucifix at the end of the chain like you’ve fallen into the routine of it. It comes as second nature once you begin, not even really focusing on the words as they come.

You move your finger to the first bead on the chain. “Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee- shit! ”

Eddie laughs at your slip-up, but the only reason that you do is because he’s turning you, your legs thrown across the dashboard and over the back of the front seat of the van as he settles on top of you. Your purse digs uncomfortably into your lower back, creating a bend in your spine where you otherwise would be laying flat.

He sinks his cock back into your wet cunt, gliding with ease and reaching the very end of you. The moan that you make is guttural, an animalistic noise unleashing from the back of your throat.

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he prompts softly, but his voice is shaky and his eyes are dark and wide. His finger comes up to twist the chain of pearly beads around his knuckle, bringing it to his lips as he gazes into your eyes. “Hail Mary, full of grace…”

“The L-lord is with thee…?” You reach up, your fingers skimming Eddie’s lips where it touches the beads. You fumble over your words, but manage to finish the prayer. You manage to finish it three times over, actually, while he pumps his cock inside you with thrusts that rock the car. If anyone were to even take a glance at the van, it would be obvious to them what’s taking place inside, and the thought makes your toes curl.

“Oh, Eddie, I can’t take it.” Your voice is breathy, whiny, the words burning in your throat. You’re so close to coming, it’s right there, and he just won’t stop.

“You can take it, baby, I know you can,” he insists, his hand coming up to grab the windowsill above your head. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, his hips grinding up against yours so perfectly that you make a small squeak in the back of your throat, and all your muscles lock down around him.

Eddie curses against the touch of your finger and the pearl on his lips, and he pulls his hips back just at the last split second. Hot cum spills across your cunt and onto your thighs, your hips bucking up to try to find his again.

You drop your head back, eyes screwed shut to stave off the frustrated tears that want to bubble out. God, you were so close. So close. He couldn’t have lasted one more second?

Eddie huffs a breath, glancing down at your face. He knows with just a look where you’re at, what you’re too shy to voice. You didn’t come. And Eddie Munson is, first and foremost, a gentleman.

Perverted, yes. But a gentleman.

“Eddie, wh-?” You nearly jump as he sinks his body down between your legs, cramming himself back against the driver’s side door.

“Made a mess of you, sweetheart,” he says simply. “And you look so pretty like this, but m’gonna clean you up.”

His tongue licks deeply, like he’s searching through you for every drop of arousal and cum he can find. He avoids your clit, though, and you can tell it’s a conscious decision, because he refuses to go where your hands tug him.

Eddie feels you getting desperate, hips lurching against his face and your hands pulling relentlessly at his long hair. He gazes up at you from between your thighs, half obscured by the skirt of your dress that’s bunched up around your middle in a giant white and purple cloud.

“Being so good for me, angel. You got one more to do, see?” He reaches up, pinching the last isolated bead on your rosary before the medallion. “You can say one more for me, can’t you?”

You suck in a short breath, your fingers falling to caress the pearl in his. “Glory be… to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.”

Eddie lowers his head. He licks a long line up your thigh, cleaning off a thick smear of his cum as he goes, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. Your breath stutters in your chest, because he meets your gaze as he does, and his eyes are black as sin.

“As it was in the beginning, it is now, and ever shall be,” your words come out rushed and hollow. His breath hits your swollen cunt, pulsing and needy for him. “World without end.”

His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks hard. All the air in your lungs rushes out at once, your hands latching onto the back of the seat and the A/C vent beside your head, trying to hold yourself in place when you come.

It’s devastating. Your head arches backwards, and without thinking, you cry out, “OH FUCK!”

“Amen to that,” Eddie chuckles, sending waves of vibration through your shuddering limbs. His tongue caresses every inch of you, until there’s not a drop of cum (his or yours) for him to clean up. He takes his time with it, far longer than it takes for you to finish orgasming against his face, until you’re beyond overstimulated and every pass of his tongue over you makes you fidget.

He touches your clit with his tongue one last time, and you jerk away from him so suddenly that he laughs, and pats your thigh soothingly. “I think we’re done.”

You hum, running your fingers through soft strands of his hair. The air in the car smells like sex and sweat, the windows long fogged up. You lay like that in comfortable silence; your legs wrapped around the middle of his torso, and his head fit comfortably in the dip between your breasts.

(His legs have fallen asleep where they’re jammed awkwardly down into the hollow beneath the steering wheel, but he won’t mention it to you. He doesn’t want to get up yet.)

He listens to your heartbeat for a very long time, so long that something occurs to him that… definitely should have occurred to him before he fucked you. He thinks he knows the answer, but he can never be too sure. “Was that your first time?”

You blink your eyes open, your fingers pausing in their route through his hair. You’re trying to gauge his tone of voice. He sounds nothing but… hesitant. Hesitant to ask the question, and hesitant to know the answer.

“No,” you tell him honestly, and he visibly relaxes. He can’t help it. His eyes fall shut, a long breath escaping through his nose and tickling across your chest. “Why- did you sleep with me because you thought I was a virgin?”

“No! No.” He picks his head up, and he looks so serious. “I didn’t. Honestly, it doesn’t… I don’t mind either way. But I just figured, y’know. If that had been your first time, and I’d known, I, uh- I mean, I would’ve been more gentle about it.”

“You mean you wouldn’t have used my rosary as a leash?”

He laughs at that. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have… and there would have been a bed. And rose petals. And candles.”

“Sounds nice,” you hum thoughtfully. “Could still do it.”

Eddie’s heart warms in his chest. “Better late than never, right?”

“Well, how else am I gonna test what you learned today?” You watch his eyes widen when you grab the string of pearls and pull the loop over your head, and lower it over his. “I hope you were paying attention.”

Eddie grins. He knew you would be a brat.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #roses*

695 notes · View notes