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starcatcher-gvf · 7 months

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Back and Forth - Chapter 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Danny Wagner

Word Count: 2.6k

Back again! Sorry, this one isn't as smutty, but the plot sets the story up later! Enjoy!

Warnings: Language, eventual smut, masturbation, sexual content

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Danny walked briskly down the hall, his dressing room located on the other end at the opposite side of Jake’s. He opened the door and almost slammed it shut, but he remembered where he was and shut it normally. Being that their rooms were identical, Danny walked to his window, showing a different view of the city. He pressed his palms to his head and leaned on the sill.

He shouldn’t feel this way. He couldn’t. Even though Jake initiated their intimate exchange, Danny felt as though he himself was in the wrong and needed to apologize. What for? He wasn’t too sure yet.

For letting things go that far? For liking what happened and wanting more? Sure, Jake and Danny have given each other playful pecks on the cheek at craze-filled bars in their own drunken stupors, but that was different. Was it?

“Stop it stop it stop it,” Danny mumbled to himself. He lifted his head from his hands to scan the outside of the venue. A line of fans were already forming and most likely halfway wrapped around the building.

A straining feeling emanated from his groin, and he groaned in dismay at his still-hard member. Why couldn’t this just go away? They have a show to play, damn it.

Danny noticed a door to the right of the window. It was a bathroom, from what he could tell. The door was slightly cracked and revealed light blue tiling on the floor and an adjoining sink and cabinet. He rushed in and locked the door behind him in case the makeup artist decided not to knock.

He hurriedly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and pulled himself free. The cool air hitting his cock made his entire body shiver. He slowly started to work himself, trying to imagine something, anything, other than Jake. Jake, Jake’s hair, Jake’s smile, Jake, Jake, Jake. Oh shit.

He gripped his cock tighter and set a faster pace as he imagined more. Every time they accidentally, or purposefully, touched knees during interviews, needing the contact to get through the social encounter. The way Jake grumbles in his sleep on the bunk next to Danny’s in the tour bus when they hit a particularly hard bump. The way his chest glistens on stage after an arduous guitar solo. How would his chest look if…? He couldn’t even finish the thought before that familiar warmth spread through his core and the evidence of his orgasm painted his palm.

Danny let out a shaky sigh as he contemplated what this new discovery would entail. What would happen to the relationship he built with the Kiszkas? What would happen to the band? What would happen with him and Jake? The questions swam in Danny’s head, spinning around him like some fucked-up carousel.

He was brought out of his own head with a knock at the dressing room door and an unfamiliar voice asking if he was ready. Makeup. Though he was internally dreading seeing Jake again, this time on stage in his rawest form, these few hours before playing would provide some reprieve from his thoughts.

He washed his hands thoroughly, made himself presentable again, and opened the door.

Jake could feel the tension between him and Danny as they stood next to each other as the curtain dropped. The blue backdrop illuminated each one of them so as to only provide a silhouette to the audience, who was, as always, cheering them on adoringly.

As they stood and posed, Jake glanced at Danny’s barely-lit face. He could see every detail, every curve, divet, and imperfection this close. The arch of Danny’s nose especially caught his eye. Jake always found Danny’s face beautiful in the most unique and unconventional way, but his nose was the epicenter of admiration.

The freckles that danced on the bridge of his nose. The way beads of sweat seemed to linger on the tip of his nose when he was playing extremely hard that night. The way it brought his smile to life more. Jake wasn’t sure where any of his thoughts were going, but he didn’t mind them.

To be honest, Jake had always felt a twinge of something like a crush or admiration for the drummer, ever since Danny graduated and was able to focus on the band all together, full time. But, both of them being reserved, he never thought to take action. Until now.

Jake, realizing he was staring, looked away from Danny and back at the crowd, completely forgetting where he was presently. All four, like they had a psychic connection, stepped forward to their instruments in tandem and prepared for a night like any other. A night the crowd would never forget.

But Jake had another idea for after the show. A new city, one that they had never seen before, full of discoveries and mischief. Jake’s plan formed slowly as the night progressed until he finally decided: a dimly lit bar they passed on the way to the venue, perfect for this type of conversation. One that no fans would even dream of them being at. Perfect.

Jake got lost in the inner world of his head and extended the ending of Age of Man, a full minute of pure loss of inhibition. That cigar worked its magic, alright. His head was buzzing with the mix of smoke, wine, and Danny on his brain. Danny was a new edition to this equation, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one. He seemed to be floating higher and higher, like he would open his eyes and be levitating off the stage floor. Danny, Danny, Danny. The mantra filled his head as the notes rumbling through his guitar got louder and higher. He was completely lost in him.

“Jake…JAKE!” Josh playfully yelled into his microphone. Jake abruptly stopped and looked to his right at his twin brother with a red face and shock in his eyes. “Sorry, folks, sometimes the music just takes over. Champagne, caviar, anyone?”

Josh walked over and hung his arm over Jake’s shoulder. He held the microphone away from their faces to give them at least some privacy in this arena. “You alright?” He asked his brother.

Josh’s visible concern made Jake feel guilty for making him worry, when in fact Jake felt joyous, even giddy. “Yeah, I’m good! Just too much alcohol.”

“And cigars, apparently. God, you stink!” Josh hugged Jake’s head with one arm and released him. “Let’s get this show on the road, right?” He said back in the microphone. The audience erupted with cheers and whistles.

Jake’s face flushed, embarrassed by Josh’s attention to the tiniest of details. After taking the last drag off his cigar and tossing the remnants out the window, Jake took a quick but thorough shower to remove any trace of cigar on his body. He didn’t want to remove any remnant of Danny, but he had to. The release was quick and over within a couple minutes of attention to himself, and he watched as the evidence washed down the drain. The evidence of Jake’s longing.

Jake almost read Josh’s mind as he knew what song Josh wanted next: the beloved Highway Tune. Jake shook his head back and forth to clear his head, and to clear the hair off his face, and sauntered to the edge of the stage, acutely aware of the pair of eyes burning holes through him from behind.

Josh’s voice echoed across the packed arena, announcing the start of another song for the encore. “Let’s get this show on the road, right?”

The crowd screamed to the four of them as Jake played the all-too-familiar beginning of Highway Tune. Jake lurched forward and crouched while playing, making the audience in front of him go wild. All the while, Danny was behind him trying not to stare at the sliver of bare skin showing between his suit jacket and pants. The curve of Jake’s hips, his slender waist, the slight pudge in his thighs had Danny entranced.

So entranced that he entirely missed his cue. Fuck!

He frantically tried to catch up to Jake’s rhythm and place in the song and earned a look back from all three Kiszkas. The audience may not have noticed such a miniscule slip, but being so in tune with one another, every member of the band can sense when a mistake was made, even on a microscopic scale. Sam glanced back at Danny but looked back to his bass after a second. Josh looked back with an arched brow that asked silently “Everything okay back there?” Danny nodded in embarrassment and kept his head down, but his eyes still drifted toward Jake as he played.

And there it was. Jake’s eyes boring into Danny’s. He was still playing, of course, but now it seemed as though Jake was playing at him, for him, rather than with him. He backed up a couple steps closer to Danny as Josh walked closer to the edge of the stage, singing his heart out.

Danny could only glance at Jake for a second, but he saw Jake mouth a couple words before giving his attention back to the guitar in his hands. Meet me after.

Danny felt his heart stutter in anticipation, nerves shot as to what would happen in this elusive “after”. Jake just seemed so… nonchalant about this. Like they didn’t just make out a couple hours before playing and hadn’t felt each other’s arousal. Danny didn’t know what any of this was; he felt as though Jake was laying out pieces to a puzzle for him to solve, but only the edge pieces were complete.

He just looked down and kept playing. The show must go on, as Josh says.

Everything continued as normal. For the most part.

Just as Danny thought this show would be finished, Jake pulls his harmonica out of his suit pocket. Oh shit.

Danny wasn’t prepared to be duetting with Jake for this show; this wasn’t on the set list. Something in his mind was telling him Jake was doing this on purpose, directed at him, but for what? To extend their time until they meet up after? To be able to play, unbridled, with Danny? Danny toned his drumming down slightly so Jake could walk to the center of the stage to the microphone stand. He let out a shaky breath, beads of sweat dripping onto the drum heads before him. He wiped his forehead with one hand and prepared mentally and physically.

Jake put his mouth to the instrument and let out a long breath, creating a cacophony of bluesy chords that the crowd went crazy over. He changed his stance so he was still slightly leaning back and swaying his torso back and forth. Back, towards Danny. Forth, towards the pit. Jake needed to ride out his buzz, which was pretty selfish in his mind, but it seemed like the others didn’t mind much. Josh was hopping around the stage, interacting with fans, dancing, snapping pictures of everything and everybody. Sam shifted closer to Jake to get some action in this mix, stomping his feet and bobbing his head to the rhythm that Danny set. The only concern Jake had was with Danny.

He noticed the drummer stalling the drum beat to Highway Tune by a fraction of a second. He noticed Danny ogling him from behind. He noticed how flustered and nervous he looked, and still looks. Jake promised Danny in his mind that he would make this quick. He just needed to ride out this high and come down before they met up.

As Jake played, that floating feeling came again. Drops of sweat ran down his face, his neck, his chest and exposed stomach as he played, completely unnoticed. His head felt full of the vibrations the noise was making all around him and through him. He was a conduit of sound, of noise, of energy. Jake felt like a vessel for some unknown force in that moment. His body felt suspended in this moment in time whilst being controlled by something else entirely. All he knew was to keep playing. Just keep playing.

Jake glanced back towards Danny, just to get a feel of how long to play. Danny didn’t see him, though. He looked like he was in a little world of his own. The pounding of his drumsticks on the drum heads made Danny’s curls bounce with every beat. Switching from toms to snare allowed Jake to see the shimmer on Danny’s forehead, letting him know that he was playing his ass off. Jake wasn’t expecting to see him so in-the-zone for the harmonica solo; he usually plays a slow, low backbeat.

And he wasn’t expecting to see Danny roll his eyes back and throw his head, exposing his gleaming chest and strained biceps to Jake, seemingly on purpose. Danny also let his jaw go slack, creating a face of pure ecstacy. Is that how he looks…? Jake quickly faced the audience again and tried to think of something else.

He felt pressure arise against his suit pants and his eyes widened slightly. He didn’t mean for his mind to wander, didn’t want this happening in front of thousands of fans. He blew the last chord in a hurry and strutted away, shoving the harmonica in his pocket again. Though the audience was screaming and giving Jake deserved applause, he couldn’t hear any of it. He was only concerned with finishing this goddamned song and getting his dick to calm the hell down.

Danny and Sam picked the speed back up on their rhythm to match Highway Tune again. Josh skipped back to center stage and raised both of his arms, signaling the audience to cheer again for Jake’s exceptional performance. Jake wanted to smile, wanted to give a courteous and theatrical bow, but he just nodded to Josh and positioned the guitar in front of him. His fingers went to work again on his Gibson, playing that riff again. He was so in his head after a couple minutes that his predicament went away, and he was able to play the last seconds of the encore with as much forte as usual.

After standing on the dais above the stage with everyone and taking a bow, they all walked back down the stairs, with Jake walking down first and Danny last. Jake handed his guitar to a roadie to pack and looked behind him for Danny. Josh patted his twin’s shoulder and walked past him, eager to get out of his tight jumpsuit. Sam ran past Danny and Jake, presumably to shower and wash the blackness off his feet from the stage. That just left Danny and Jake in the backstage hallway, panting from leftover adrenaline and nervousness.

“Hey,” Danny breathed first.

“Hey,” Jake replied. “Everything alright? I noticed earlier, um, that slip-up.”

“Yeah, all good.”

There was a silence that felt like hours but lasted just seconds. There were tech guys and roadies everywhere packing everything up for the next show. Tonight, the guys could sleep in a hotel since their next show wasn’t until the day after the next. Thank God for some privacy, Jake thought.

“You wanna go somewhere?” Danny suggested. His hands were placed on his hips, supporting his aching back. Jake noticed how sweaty Danny was up close, and he smelled not unpleasant but strong and musky. Jake felt a twinge, feeling like Danny read his mind instantly.

“Actually, I was thinking we could go to that dive we saw driving through. I think it was called Rusty something.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you there, okay? I desperately need to shower.” Danny chuckled, obviously noticing Jake’s nose scrunch up when he inhaled too close to the drummer. Danny walked past him and placed his hand on Jake’s upper arm, letting it linger before walking off to his private shower. Jake now stood alone in the hallway. He shook his head and walked down the hall to his room. We’re in this shit now.

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #danny wagner #jake gvf #danny gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fan fic #fanfic #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #josh gvf #sam gvf #greta van fic #greta van smut

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wheels-of-despair · 10 months

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Enough | A Make Up Story | Tom Grant x You | Series Masterlist

Chapter 15: I Don't Even Want to Be Me Words: 1.8k

The first thing you saw on Sunday morning was a pair of big brown eyes.

"Hi," you whispered, trying to focus on the beauty in them instead of the sadness.

He responded by launching himself at you, like he'd been waiting for the opportunity since he woke up. You laid there and held him until he'd had his fill. When he started trailing gentle kisses down your neck, you gave in and had one more last time.

You laid there a while, just staring at each other, until you couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. You hoped to be on the road by noon. You had no idea how traffic would be today, and you were expected back at work tomorrow.

You started to get up, but Tom's hand shot out to grab yours. "Don't."

"Gotta get up sometime, Tom."

"If you don't get up, you can't leave."

You close your eyes and sigh. He has a point. But your mind has been made. You have to go home.

"C'mon. Let's see how your pancake skills are holding up." You force a smile, give him a light smack on his boxer-covered ass, and pull yourself out of bed. He lays there and watches as you get dressed. Not dressed for hanging around his van, or packing at April's, or going out, or freezing your ass off in the sea. Dressed for leaving. Dressed for home.

"C'mon," you repeat, holding out a hand to him. His eyes fill with tears again, and he gets up angrily, without your help. He stomps past you and into the bathroom and slams the door.

You take the opportunity to shove the rest of your belongings into your bag and deposit it in the living room.

You're flipping the second pancake when the bathroom door opens. You keep your eyes on the stove. Tom stands behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder.

"Sorry."

You rest your free hand on top of his and lean back into him as a way of telling him he's forgiven for his little tantrum.

"You wanna do the next one?" you ask as you move the finished pancake to the plate.

Tom reaches for the batter with one hand, holding you in place with the arm that's still wrapped around you. He watches over your shoulder as he pours the mixture into the pan, places the batter back on the counter, then resumes his clinging. You worry that your heart will never recover.

He waits until it starts bubbling before he reaches for the spatula. He flips it expertly, even from the odd angle.

"Perfect," you admire. He really is.

You stay like that until you're out of batter, then shuffle over to the table to eat. Most of breakfast passes by quietly. You're trying to think of something to say to him when someone knocks at the door.

Tom licks a bit of syrup from his thumb and goes to answer it. You can't see out the door, but you know who it is when you see his body tense.

"Hi, Tom. Can I talk to her?"

Tom doesn't move.

"I'll be right out, Jade," you call from behind him. He closes the door and turns to you with a look somewhere between fury and misery. "It's alright," you whisper to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. "She probably just wants to say goodbye."

"Again?"

"Again." You kiss the tip of his nose, grab your jacket, and step through the beaded curtains into the mid-morning sun.

"Hi, Jade."

"Hi, dove."

You stand there awkwardly for a moment.

"You wanna…" Jade tilts her head toward a picnic table in the distance. You nod and walk there with her in silence, sitting on top together and resting your feet on the bench.

Were it not for the plywood window, you'd probably be staring at Tom right now.

"Figured you'd be leaving today."

"Yeah. Gonna try to be on the road by noon."

"I'm really sorry about the way this turned out."

You finally turn to look at her. "I'm not."

"You're not?" she asks in surprise.

You shake your head.

"It's time, Jade." It comes out softer than it probably should have, but it's Jade. You could never stay mad at her for long.

You look into her eyes, but you don't feel the pull the way you used to. She's beautiful. She's always been beautiful; she always will be. She'll always have that Jade Charm that can make people move mountains for her; change who they are just for a chance to be near her.

Why doesn't it feel like a relief to gaze into her eyes and feel nothing?

"I'll miss you," she eventually says, unable to stand the quiet.

"I know," you nod, hoping it's true. "I'll miss you too."

"What about Tom?" The corner of her mouth twitches.

"I'll miss him too." You know that's not what she's asking, and she knows you misunderstood on purpose.

"Ruth feels awful about what happened with him."

You pick at a splinter of wood on the table between you.

"I'm glad he had someone here to watch out for him this week. Ruth is too. She says he's a great guy. He's just…"

"He is a great guy. He just wasn't what she wanted," you supply. "Know how that feels."

"Darling, is that what you think? That I didn't want you?" You peel off the strip of wood and twirl it in your fingers. "Please look at me."

You turn to her with a hard look.

"I love you," she says. "I always have. You are the only person I wanted here with me when Nan died. No one has ever made me feel more safe or loved than you. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you weren't wanted. And I'm sorry if I never told you that before."

She hadn't. It had taken five years of blind devotion and what you thought was a last goodbye to get it out of her.

"Then why did you never ask me to stay?"

She doesn't answer.

"I tried so hard to make you love me. I'd have been anyone you wanted me to be."

"I just wanted you to be you," she says gently.

"I don't even want to be me, Jade."

She looks at you curiously, and you change gears before you have to explain.

"Do you love her? Ruth, I mean?" You twirl the sliver of wood in your hands, unable to look at her.

Jade chuckles. "I don't know. She makes me feel… different. I can't quite explain it."

"Is she going to stay with you?"

"For a while, I suppose." It doesn't hurt as bad as you thought it would.

"You've clearly given this lot of thought."

"You were always the thinker, remember? You'd plan things, then I'd ruin them by being spontaneous."

"Hurricane Jade," you smile.

Jade smiles back, and it reaches her eyes.

"What will you do now, dove?"

"Go home, get back to work…" you shrug.

"You deserve better than that."

"What else am I supposed to do, Jade?"

"Something that makes you happy," she suggests. She made you happy once… didn't she? You snap the wood in half and drop the pieces on the ground.

Jade steps off the table, and you instinctively follow.

"Can I hug you?" she asks, almost like she's afraid of the answer. You nod and embrace her.

"Can you do something for me?" she asks. You nod again and rest your chin on her shoulder. "Find someone who deserves you. Someone who makes you happy. Someone stable, and normal, and nothing at all like me."

The irony does not escape you. But the tears do.

"I'll always love you, Jade," you choke out.

"I'll always love you too, dove." She gives you one final squeeze and takes a step back. "Drive safe." She wipes away a tear. "And be happy." You stand there and watch Jade's favorite jacket grow smaller until she turns a corner and disappears.

It feels like she's taken a piece of your heart with her.

You dry your eyes and return to Tom's van. He rises from the sofa when you enter. He's dressed now, and the wreckage of breakfast has been cleared away.

"You alright?" he asks.

You nod as you walk toward him and bury your face in his chest. You squeeze each other tight and you try to banish the thoughts of throwing all your plans out the window and staying here with him forever. But Tom deserves better, too.

You pull back, look at the clock, and meet his eyes.

"Thank you, Tom," you whisper.

"You don't have to go."

"I don't know how you did it, but you turned what could've been the worst week of my life into one of the best."

"So stay."

"Remember what I told you yesterday?" you ask. He looks upward and fights back tears. "We have to figure out who we are without them."

"Will you at least come back and see me?" His eyes pierce holes through you.

"Tom…"

"Please say yes. Even if you don't mean it. Don't leave me here with nothing."

How much simpler would your life have been if Jade had left you with nothing that first time? No phone number, no address, no see you later, dove. Where would you be now if you hadn't spent five fucking years waiting for her to come back to you?

You go in for a hug so he can't see you tearing up. "Tom, you could have any girl you want. You're smart, and funny, and hard-working, and fucking gorgeous. You don't want me. Wait 'til spring, when this place is crawling with tourists, and make some young thing's dreams come true. Hell, you could pick a new one every week. You deserve to see what else is out there. You deserve to have fun, and mess around, and decide what you want out of life."

"I want you." His voice cracks, and so does your heart.

You turn, pick up your bag, and head outside before you break. You throw the battered bag into the backseat, but before you can get in the car, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn, and Tom holds out a crinkled paper bag.

You look from the brown sack to Tom's bloodshot eyes.

"Sandwich for the road," he says emotionlessly.

You accept Tom's gift and carefully put it in the car. Against your better judgement, you come back for one more hug. One more kiss. And then… you were gone.

#writings of despair #tom grant is enough #tom grant #tom grant x you #tom grant x reader

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turnupswritessometimes · 9 months

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AshEiji - Ficmas - Ch8 - Sleigh Rides

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52217968/chapters/132084811

“And I can’t hold the camera, because…?” Ash trailed off, his eyebrows raised. His coat collar was turned up against the cold – it was snowing again, in New York. The flakes caught on his cheeks melted, leaving them rosy-pink. Eiji wanted to kiss them.

“Because you’re not the photographer,” he said.

Ash bumped his whole body against him, and Eiji stumbled. He had to catch Ash’s arm to stop himself falling; and when he did, pushed him back.

They were walking up a country road, following the directions on Ash’s phone. They’d been told to leave the car at the bottom of the lane, just beyond the sign that declared this all private property. They were headed to the homestead in the midst of the snowy plains and pine trees. It was like a Winter postcard.

“And what about all the photos of you?” Ash asked.

“I’ll teach you how to take some.”

“In a moving sleigh.”

Eiji stepped in front of him, his arms behind his back. “Are you scared of a challenge, Ash?”

Ash caught Eiji’s chin, tilting it up in his hand. He smiled smugly back at him.

“I’m never scared of a challenge.”

And he kissed Eiji. Peppered his cheeks with kisses, until Eiji had to catch Ash’s shoulders. “Stop – we’re going to be late!”

Ash did relent, then, and lead Eiji along, through the snow. They were here on a job: Max had been the one to recommend them for it. Recommend Eiji. It was a piece about a farm upstate that were offering sleigh rides for the festive season. The story would help the business promote their work; year-round, the horses were used for therapy.

“Most importantly,” Max had said, pushing a coffee onto Eiji’s desk. “They’re offering you and a plus one a free ride on one of their sleighs.”

“Oh,” Eiji said, scrolling through the website.

Max waited. He raised his eyebrows. “You and a plus one, Eiji.” And when he still didn’t react, Max prompted, “Ash?”

“Oh!” Eiji felt his cheeks go hot. “Like a date?”

“That’s right.” Max grinned at him, and Eiji ducked his chin. It felt odd, that his boss was also a family friend. Felt even odder, when Max ruffled his hair good-naturedly. As though Eiji was Ash, or Michael. Made his chest feel warm.

So here they were. Eiji armed with his camera, very aware that Ash still hated photos, and not too sure how he was going to take photos in a moving sleigh. But they still reached the farmhouse; it was decorated with twinkling lights that made it look like a gingerbread cottage. The horses grazed in the paddock next to it, flicking their tails, their breath steaming in the cold air.

And there was the sleigh. A beautiful, red polished affair with gleaming blades. Two chestnut brown horses were attached; their fur long on their legs, so it looked as though they were wearing snow boots. They were bigger than Eiji had thought they would be.

The owners were stood in front of them, and rushed forward to shake Eiji’s hand. He still wasn’t used to that; much preferred greetings in Japan. They were both the picture of what lumberjack men would look like.

“Thank you so much for coming all the way out here,” the one with the trimmed, dark bead, said. “We do appreciate it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“But, I thought your boss said he was sending a couple?” the man asked.

Ash put his arm around Eiji’s waist, tugging them together. “Actually, we’re married.”

Eiji hid behind his bangs, unable to stop smiling. He’d never get tired of hearing that. Married. It was such a fantastic word.

“That’s great!” The other guy said; his beard was bushy, and ginger. “Sorry – we didn’t – we’d love that.”

“This is my husband.” The dark one said. “So, this would be lovely. Really.”

“Oh, good.” Eiji still smiled, but he felt slightly baffled.

“It’s our pleasure.” Ash’s fingers squeezed Eiji’s side. He seemed completely at ease; his own charming smile in place. They were all smiling at each other, and Eiji was at a loss as to what to say next.

“Well, then, boys, let’s introduce you to the horses.”

So they were introduced to the horses. One was Cinnamon, the other Nutmeg. Both were big and beautiful. Their noses were soft, like velvet, as they snuffled at Eiji’s palm. He patted their snouts, unable to stop smiling. Nutmeg nuzzled at his shoulder, searching in his coat for treats, his fur tickling his cheek.

When he looked up, he saw that Ash had his camera. He took it back.

“That’s my job,” he said, untangling himself from the horses. Nutmeg followed him, snorting. “You say hello to them, too.”

Ash did. Rolling his eyes like it was a chore. But he did. He rubbed his knuckles up and down their snouts, and told them were lovely. Eiji got a photo of Ash holding Cinnamon’s head, his hair falling over his face. But it fell in such a way that it was still clear Ash was smiling, softly.

He noticed Eiji was watching him, from above the camera, and paused. “What?”

Eiji shrugged. “You’re beautiful.”

Ash’s eyes softened. Very green against the white around them. He still smiled, that special smile he had for Eiji that made him feel like he was electrified. Made him remember why he’d risked everything, again and again, for this boy. Just how much he loved Ash.

“You guys are just adorable together. Let’s get you in the sleigh.”

So they did. Ash went first, and offered his hand to Eiji. He accepted it, hauling himself up and into the sleigh. There was a woven blanket to go over their laps, and embroidered cushions behind them. It all felt very cosy; almost too cosy to do work. He fiddled with his camera, whilst the owners brought the horses round to the start of the trail. Ash held the reins, looking just as at ease as if he was driving a car.

The snow had slowed to a powder, and it felt like they were inside of a snow globe. The owners rode behind them, on their own horses, to make sure the sleigh stayed on course. The horses trotted, the wind catching their manes. The ride was bumpy. Eiji found himself catching Ash’s shoulder, laughing.

Ash rested his head on the top of Eiji’s, still with both hands on the reins. But he was chuckling too.

“You have a job to do, sweetie,” Ash said, gently.

“Then, slow down.” Eiji pushed him, fumbling with his camera. He wore fingerless gloves to work it better, but his hands were numb.

“When have I ever driven slowly?” Ash replied.

Eiji could only laugh, and shake his head. The sleigh continued, and it felt like magic. The snow continued falling dreamily; the horses trotting through the pine forest. Eiji tried his best. Took photos of the horses; the scenery; Ash’s hands on the reins; Ash next to him. Leant forward, to brush Ash’s hair back behind his ear, murmuring, “This one’s just for me.”

The sleigh jolted, as he did, and he lost his balance. His camera swung, and he caught Ash’s knee to stop himself falling headlong.

Ash just laughed. He shifted, putting his arm around Eiji and pulling him close, still keeping hold of the reins.

“I think you’ve got enough,” he said.

“Ash.”

“Yeah, that’s enough.” Ash turned to kiss the top of Eiji’s head. He kept his grip tight, even as Eiji tried to wiggle away. But Ash was stronger. And warmer. And it was hard to argue very much when they were in a horse drawn sleigh in the snow. It wasn’t like the owners protested that Eiji had stopped taking photos.

So shifted, sitting under Ash’s arm properly, and resting his head on his shoulder. Listened to the sounds of the horse’s hooves, and smelt the pine around them, felt Ash’s breath underneath him. It was cold, but he felt very warm. And thought he would be happy if they stayed like this for hours.

But they finished the route, and the sleigh ride came to an end. Ash let go of the reins, letting them hang over the edge of the sleigh.

“Come on, sweetie.” Ash nudged him with his shoulder.

Eiji let himself have another minute, with his arms tight around Ash. Relishing in that feeling, his heart pounding. Then gave in. He pulled away, looking up at Ash. He kissed him, forgetting that they weren’t alone.

Forgetting that he was here on a job, not a date, like Max said. A job to take photos to market the sleigh rides offered at this farm. And the photos he did have, of the forest, the horses, the sleigh, looked beautiful. They looked great next to Eiji’s story for the article. (Max had wanted him to write it; had been helping him draft up some of his own stories.)

But it was a photo that he hadn’t taken that was at the top. A photo one of the ranch owners had taken on his phone, and they hadn’t noticed. It was the moment at the end of the ride, when Eiji had kissed Ash. The snow fell around them, their hair caught in the wind, the trees green behind them. The blanket was around them, pressing them together.

“It’s a great article,” Max said, looking at it. Eiji couldn’t. It made him feel flustered and embarrassed. That there would be a photo of him and Ash kissing on the internet. “It’s a great photo too.”

“I have to check if Ash is alright with it,” Eiji asked. Because that was only fair.

“Sure. But it looks great, with the article. The guys were really happy with the job you did.”

Which made Eiji feel warm for a different reason. He nodded, fiddling with the pens on his desk. There were only a couple of days until Christmas Eve, and he couldn’t wait to be finished for Christmas. He had a whole two weeks off, for Christmas and New Years.

“Eiji, do you enjoy doing this?”

“Yes!” He looked up. “Of course!”

Max smiled at him. That warm smile, as he put a hand on Eiji’s shoulder. “Because, you’re good at this job. I think you could do more than photos, if you wanted. You could train up as a journalist.”

As a real journalist, like Max, instead of just a photographer. A proper, full-time job. That was the goal, wasn’t it? He should have said yes just as enthusiastically. But he paused – and hated that he did pause.

Max saw his hesitation. “Why don’t you think about it, over the break?”

Eiji nodded.

And wondered why it felt like such a scary decision.

#banana fish #asheiji #ficmas #fanfiction #ash lynx #eiji okumura #turnupswrites

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kithkinchick · 10 months

Text

Luck's a Chance, Trouble's Sure

Chapter 4:

With that in mind, she was quite happy to ask Sarah to come along with her to look for Barrett. It felt right to be part of bringing him home, even if she hadn’t asked to be sent in his place.

On the way back to Vectera she and Sarah had a chance to talk, this time more as colleagues than as a penitant coming before the Mother Superior. Gayle learned more of Constellation, of Sebastian Banks, and of the accidental discovery of the artifact resonance that had become their primary focus at present.

Vectera itself was less straightforward, with her former coworkers in disarray, and Heller missing. After powering up the sadly punished comms computer and getting a bead on their jump to Danra, she prepared to leave. Offering a spot on the crew to Lin felt like an impulse, but if a ship was the goal, then crew would be important, so Gayle felt comfortable with the split second decision, barely having the urge to second guess the offer once made.

The next jump brought them to the desert of Danra, another fragment of the story, and a badly wounded Heller. Patching him up and sending him onto the Frontier was an easy decision, and after making it Sarah felt comfortable opening up a little about her predecessor in the role of Constellation chair, as well as the challenges of stepping from explorer to leader. Before they could get more into talk of Sarah’s time before Constellation, the scan beeped, announcing that the location on Bessell III had been found.

Their slow infiltration of the Crimson Fleet’s appropriated base brought them into a better rhythm with each other. Gayle had made the decision that the Fleet were not going to listen to reason, and in tune with the mission, she steeled herself to the fact that she would be deliberately stopping them, not merely returning fire to protect. Sarah used her laser pistol to target pirates from afar, while the kodama that Gayle had collected from Spacers on the Nova Galactic staryard was simple enough that Gayle was able to keep fire on the pirates as they approached the pair.

After a blitz of shots exchanged, ducking for cover, and explosions, they made it to the door leading to the inner sanctum. Inside, they were met not with shots, but with convivial laughter as Barrett and Matsura the Grim kept each other company.

When asked later, she couldn’t quite explain it, but Gayle summoned all her bravado, went toe to toe with the pirate, and talked him out of his new prize. Thanks to her spacesuit, noone could see her clenched toes and trembling knees, she rationalized.

As they left, Barrett encouraged her to try out the scanning function on the watch he had gifted her with, collecting data on the few inorganic resources found on the lifeless world. As she completed the slate he crowed “Vlad will love this” and then headed for the Frontier without explanation. Sarah had already embarked, and so Gayle was left confused on the airless moon. She shook her head and made for the airlock herself.

Leaving the spaceport Gayle told Lin and Heller to feel free to occupy themselves, she’d send a comm when the next mission came up. Lin merely nodded, but Heller snapped a sloppy salute and a sarcastic “yes captain” before winking at her and pulling Lin toward the elevator that led to the Well. He had told Gayle about how much he enjoyed the seedier part of New Atlantis.

As the three members of Constellation walked back to the Lodge, Sarah was the first to speak. “I’ve enjoyed traveling with you, and have been happy to help you get your footing. Now that Barrett is back, I do have some responsibilities to take care of.”

“I believe that. Thank you for your assistance recently.” Gayle was polite, recognizing the sacrifice of time that Sarah must have made to be nursemaiding the newest member.

“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to stick close for a bit, get to know you a bit more, maybe talk about these visions we’ve gotten.” Barrett was close behind Gayle’s words. She might have thought they didn’t want her to be alone, or trust her skill, but that was the old Gayle. This new Gayle nodded and replied “I’d like that,” taking him at his word.

“All right, when we get back I’ll see where Sam is, or if Vlad has heard back from our missing member yet.” Sarah had stepped back into role of Chair of Constellation, and Gayle found herself missing the hints of warmth and developing friendship she had seen on their recent time together.

Walking back into the Constellation library without a piece of space mystery felt more comfortable, and she followed Sarah toward the conversation pit. Her eye was caught by movement past the glass doors into the conservatory, and when she turned to look she saw a man standing with a young girl. She got an impression of brown, blue and gold, in a scruffy package straight from Akila, before he threw his head back in laughter at something the girl had said. Hearing that her mouth went dry and knees quivered with a bolt of sudden lust.

Looking away quickly so as to not be caught staring, she walked forward and leaned on one of the railings. Sarah was quickly flicking through a tablet. “Vlad has some news to report, and it looks like Sam is about ready to head out.”

When Gayle caught the motion of Sarah’s head toward the conservatory, and made the connection that he was Sam she straightened. The idea of talking to him, HIM, at that moment made her feel uncertain and inadequate, like he would look at her and immediately know she didn’t belong. The idea of that laughter turning cruel and being directed at her stabbed her core.

“Okay, you said someone hadn’t checked in yet? That should take priority. Barrett, you with me? Tell me about Vlad.” She began to stride toward the door, Barrett jogging after her with laughter in his voice. “Dusty, c’mon, where’s the fire?”

***

She supposed that she ought to have been intimidated by Vlad, a tall brawny oak of a man, but the lyricism and poetry of his words charmed her, as did his admission that being pulled away from his work, even for the Artifact Confluence (which deserved capitalization, she supposed), would have annoyed him.

His voice entranced her as she learned snippets of his past with the Fleet, the snatching of the Centaurus Proclamation and retirement, then Sarah’s entry and demand that catapulted him in the heart of this little band. When he told her about visiting his home to learn more, she agreed, forgetting for a moment that she was just a footnote in this story, or would be once her continued ordinarity was revealed.

Scan information on the artifact clues, as well as his concerns for Andreja, a fellow ‘rook’ in the group, was obtained. She passed him the scan she had completed on Bessell III, and then she and Barrett headed out ‘into the blackest sea.’

Traveling with Barrett felt different than the first one with Sarah, ‘proving her worth’ as Gayle thought of it. Barrett felt like everything just delighted him, and that there were no strangers out there in the galaxy.

As they landed on Procylon III, she was surprised to hear him recommend that instead of making a beeline for Vlad’s site, they take some time surveying the planet, learn about flora and fauna, and be able to have a full picture of the data for the future, if an artifact was indeed found.

Gayle found herself agreeing, not in a hurry to display the lack of response that artifact beta had given her, and took advantage of the scanning to talk, as well as work on getting comfortable with her weapon.

“I just can’t get this.” She exclaimed, after she had perforated a line up a rock face aiming for a slow moving herbivore. “It jerks more than I expect, and by the time I get the bullets going where I want them to, then my target has moved on.” She didn’t know what she expected, but Barrett’s calm “Well, then let’s try a different one” was not it.

“I’m no weapons expert” he continued conversationally, “but as a scientist, I know about testing. I also know that not everything works for everyone.” His gaze shifted to the skyline, and he fell silent.

“Now where was I? Oh yes, if the weapon doesn’t suit you, let’s find one that does. Plenty of manufacturers and flavors, I’ll bet one of them will feel a bit better.” He cast his gaze around and saw an outpost in the distance. “Let’s go see if there are some options there. There ought to be a provisioner, or pirates to run off.”

The outpost turned out to be abandoned, but the Spacers that had moved in fell reasonably quickly to the pair’s fire, despite Gayle feeling it was mostly Barrett that did the hard work. They also had a wider array of armaments, and her pack was weighed down with several rifles and pistols when they left.

Barrett wasn’t able to give much advice on the weapons themselves, but was patient as she tried them out on the local wildlife, collecting samples, and then dinner, from her successes, which grew as the afternoon stretched into evening.

“No Chunks for dinner tonight! I’m cooking up a feast!” Barrett crowed as they headed back to the Frontier.

“Sounds good.” Gayle was in good spirits as well, finding confidence in her successes, as well as Barrett’s patience and good humor as she tried pistols and rifles all afternoon. “I think we’ve completed this biome as well, so tomorrow we can head toward Vlad’s mark.”

“Sounds like a plan! First dinner, and then cards, and then sleep. Gotta be fresh for our next date with destiny”

The next morning there were only a few plants left to scan before they headed into the abandoned mining camp that was ground zero for Vlad’s readings. All the effort put into the previous afternoon was well spent, as the pair of them slowly advanced, Gayle using her newly acquired Beowulf to provide long range cover, and Barrett advancing and doing damage with a Kodama that had more upgrades than her discarded find.

As they neared a tunnel with familiar looking cuboids just inside, Gayle sighed. Now was when he would see that the response had been a one time fluke, and that they should send her back to Argos. Disappointment and relief warred within her at the thought of not getting to see more of this unfold.

“Hey, this is what we saw on Vectera!” She called through the comm to Barrett.

“All right then, sensors have an abnormal gravity signature, let’s head in.” Suiting action to words, Barrett gestured for her to advance, and then followed.

Just like Vectera, the artifact was nestled into a cocoon of crystals. Unholstering the cutter Gayle had kept from Argos, she made short work of them. Turning to look at Barrett she asked, “did you want to grab this one?”

“Nah Dusty, it’s all you.” His face was studiously blank as he responded.

Gayle shrugged and reached out casually, expecting the same non-response that had happened on board Otero’s ship.

She was wrong.

Once again she was thrown elsewhere, with lights flashing and a peal of music, accompanied by a flash that looked like a crack in creation. It lasted hours, it was over in a flash.

She returned to herself with Barrett’s voice in her ear, and a headache that made her eyes water.

“Dusty, Gayle, are you all right?” Barrett’s worry leveled off as he saw Gayle’s eyelids flutter, “You’ve been out for a quarter of an hour, was it the same as before?”

“Same, but headache after is worse” Gayle croaked. “I was out for under 10 minutes before, just long enough for them to pull me into med bay.”

Barrett tapped some notes into a tablet and then looked at her. “You know, when I had the vision, it was just a few seconds, and the people around me couldn’t even tell it had happened.” He frowned “There’s something different about you, about how the Artifacts respond to you.”

Gayle’s head was hurting too much for anything but honesty, “Different just makes you a target, I wanted to get away from all that.” She placed a hand on her suit port where he was positioning a Med Pack, “The pain’s already receding, no need to dump another variable into my system.”

Barrett laughed gingerly at that, and helped her up from the rock floor where she had fallen, “A woman after my own heart. Let’s head back to the Frontier and regroup.”

They passed a quiet night on board, landing bay securely locked against unforeseen mischief. The next morning they set a course for the Piazzi system, with IV-c being the target Vlad had supplied.

#sam coe #sam coe x spacefarer #starfield #tumblr confuses me #no beta we die like men #slow burn #i promise they meet eventually

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mono-dot-jpeg · 3 years

Text

another adeptus in the line - zhongli [ft. xiao & ganyu]

summary; it was a very big surprise to xiao and ganyu that they would be meeting the next adeptus in line. especially when the next adeptus is a child.

genre; fluff, this is just family, i need emotional support from liyue god family, dad! zhongli, child! reader, all platonic, zhongli is a doting dad and i will die on that hill, dragon hybrid! reader, xiao is just a grumpy older brother

word count; 1.3k

a/n; i hate my life, but it's fine. im currently hanging on a string, due to the fact that there's been a lot of stress recently but it's fine. I'll be fine. i got zhongli in the latest banner, everything will be fine. everyting is fine when zhongli exists 🥰

ganyu might be ooc idk, also reader is a dragon hybrid!! bc of zhongli. maybe I'll write hcs about it... brain go brrrr

age range for reader; 5-7

slight spoilers to the latest story quest? i think it's called story quest idk- i literally just mention the new boss and some of its story but i don't think it spoils too much but ehhhhhhhhh who am i to judge

zhongli had never expected to have you. or more like make you. similar to azhdaha, you were granted life by zhongli. you were granted the ability to live just like any other human. but of course a deal had to be made. you would live as a dragon hybrid human but you would grow up to be the next adeptus in line. you were bound to be granted with a vision but there was no rush. you were merely a child after all.

it was always nice walking around liyue with you. everyone in liyue had a fond look whenever you and zhongli would pass by, the male carrying you to tell you endless stories about the liyue you would come to love and protect.

"papa.." you muttered to zhongli, clutching tightly on his pants as you stood behind him. "where are we going?"

"we're going to the inn, little one, you're just gonna meet your older brother and sister. they're very nice i can assure you." he moved to pick you up and hold you against his waist. "i mean by blood they're not your siblings but that doesn't change anything. you are still family."

he enters the homely inn and heads toward the balcony, but before he could leave to the balcony, he was stopped by verr goldet.

"good afternoon zhongli, good to see you too y/n." you clumsily waved at her, too busy being more focused on the cat that laid on the desk. she had noticed where your focus was, laughing softly. "are you here to see xiao?"

"yes, is he busy?" zhongli asked.

"he's right on the rooftop. i'd just wait until he comes down but he seems like he's not coming down anytime soon."

zhongli nodded at her words, thanking her before going to find xiao. he clutched you firmly as he started to climb to the rooftop. your small hands grasped on his clothes as you watch him climb up to the rooftop with ease.

you look to see an unfamiliar male, moving to hide your face into zhongli's neck. "hello xiao." zhongli greets him, sitting next to him. the young adeptus nods at him in acknowledgement. "i would like you to meet y/n." he started to explain your story, xiao watching you with pointed eyes as you shy away from him and stick to zhongli as much as you physically can.

"they are a child."

"that is true, xiao." he patted your back, urging you to look up to meet xiao. he made you let go of him and turned you around on his lap, making you face xiao. the one thing you immediately notice is the necklace he wears. "they're very new to our world. especially if you consider our ages." zhongli was an old soul and god after all.

"shiny.." you mutter, your hands reaching out for the pretty beads that laid strewn together on xiao's neck. zhongli smiled fondly at your lack of attention onto the actual male.

"little brat." xiao mumbled as zhongli moves you to sit on xiao's lap. you look up at him with innocent beady eyes for a moment before looking down and bonking your head on his chest, feeling shy at the sudden attention from a new person. xiao hesitantly places a hand on your head, patting your hair and any stray hairs.

zhongli watches the scene before him with amused eyes. "it's nice to see you try and bond with your little sibling." he chuckled a bit as he watches you grab at xiao's necklace, much to the older adeptus' dismay. xiao tried to get your hands off the necklace, earning a tiny whine from you.

"zhongli, have you spoiled them already?" xiao takes off his necklace to let you play with it, keeping a sharp eye on you as to make sure you don't choke on anything or hurt yourself. your eyes twinkle, grabbing the necklace and looking at the large blunt arrowhead pendant.

"me? i would never." zhongli sends an innocent smile but xiao knew better. he always liked to dote on him and ganyu when given the chance, he wasn't any different with you.

"have you told ganyu about them yet?"

"ganyu has been rather busy with her duties. i haven't been able to contact her yet."

"xiao!" the two males hear a rather familiar voice, soon turning their heads towards the source to see the other adeptus, ganyu. she nearly struggled to climb the rooftop if not for zhongli offering a hand to help. "ah, hello, rex lapis.." she greeted softly.

"call me zhongli." he reminded her, making the female quickly apologize. "what have you come here for?"

"i was just gonna ask if..." she trailed off as she looked over to xiao, seeing you on his lap. you look up to see the pretty female, quickly looking away to bonk your head against xiao's chest once again. the other adeptus sighing at your antics, as zhongli watched everything unfold with a fond smile on his face. "who is this?"

"this is y/n." zhongli answered, starting to explain the contract you and him made when you were in a different form. you still stayed buried in xiao's chest, said adeptus wondering how to deal with such a shy child... or how to deal with a child in general.

ganyu went to sit in front of you and xiao, "hello y/n..." you stopped fiddling with xiao's necklace and turned to look at ganyu again. she had horns on her head like you did.

"horns...pretty" you pointed at ganyu's red horns, making the female flustered at the compliment. kids always had the blunt honesty.

"ah ah ah... don't point, little one. that's not very nice." zhongli chided softly.

"but her horns..like me.." you pressed your free hand against your own smaller horns that grew from your head. ganyu was surprised by your shining enthusiasm in finding someone like you.

"yes, she has horns like you." xiao mutters, taking his necklace back from your small hands while you were distracted. but your grip was stronger than he had thought, "give me my necklace back, little brat."

"but...i wanna play still, big brother.." you told him. unfortunately, xiao couldn't resist your plea and let you hold the necklace in your hands for a little while longer. zhongli noted that, remembering to tease him about it later.

"ah, maybe you should give it back to big brother xiao, hm? he really needs it, y/n." ganyu makes an attempt to let xiao get his necklace back. and who are you to disappoint the pretty sister? you pouted, hesitantly handing it back to xiao. "why don't you say sorry for keeping it from him for so long?"

"sorry big brother.." you fumbled on your words rather adorably. "won't do it again."

"thank you." xiao muttered as he hands you over to ganyu. "take the little demon."

"xiao! that's not very nice." ganyu said as she adjusts you to fit comfortably on her lap.

"xiao...meanie!" you pointed at him. xiao glared at you as you showed no fear to it. was xiao really gonna square up with a child? maybe. before xiao could say anything else, you reached for ganyu's horns, "big sister..."

"hm?" ganyu notices you reaching for her horns. "you want to touch them?" you nodded, moving closer. but you had moved too close and bonked your head against hers. "ah! are you okay?" she immediately asked as you blinked before bonking your forehead against hers softly, giggling happily. who would've thought that bonking was a love language for you?

"this one is gonna be a troublemaker...i just know it.." xiao gives you a pointed look as you reach out for xiao.

"wanna play with big brother! and big sister!" you send out a toothy smile, soon warming up a bit more to the two older adeptus.

zhongli merely looked at the sweet scene before him, seeing his young adeptus kids get along so well with each other despite the differences they all had. you would fit along just fine. there was nothing he would need to worry about.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin xiao #genshin zhongli #genshin ganyu #genshin impact xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao #genshin xiao x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #ganyu x reader #genshin impact ganyu #genshin impact ganyu x reader #genshin impact imagines #mono's aaitl

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sirensmojo · 3 years

Text

"Collection" - Hubby!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big fluff, typical wife/hubby scenes.

gif of @mistress-gif {here is the post}

Summary: Tommy ruining your carpet collection.

*Masterlist*

“Tommy, what’s this?” You calmly asked, pointing down.

“The ground, Y/N.”

“On top of it, you idiot.”

“Carpet?” He responded not sure about what your point was.

“Yeah. Now, what’s on top of it?”

“What’s the thing, eh?” Tommy was puffing on his cig while reading the newspaper, as usual for this time of the day.

“Just answer me, Thomas.”

It was around 4 in the afternoon, the only time in the day when he wasn’t too busy these days. He spent most of the time at the House Of Commons, so much that a little routine had settled.

Each day at 3:30 you heard his car outside, a maid telling you your husband was back home. And as each day at that hour, you were reading your weekly book, training your creativity for the novels you were writing.

When Tommy was back at the Arrow house, you weren’t there to welcome him, but you always had the maids put some tea in the living room along with biscuits for him.

“Wine.” He confidently responded, still reading his papers.

You knew your husband, despite whatever he was doing outside the house, he loved his cocoon, this moment of peace you gave him. In the only free hours of his day, he could drink without thinking too much, but Tommy being him, he soon began to read some books about politics, he couldn’t stay too long without doing anything.

You would always let him spend this time alone, sitting on the armchairs of the living room, a drink of whiskey next to his cup of British tea and a plate of biscuits. You let him charge his batteries, so he wouldn’t be too exhausted when coming back late at night.

All you wanted was to nourish him so he could be better at “work”, because that’s what he wanted for himself, and even if you loved him so much, you couldn’t know what was best for him better than himself, right?

It was pretty unusual of you to disturb him like that, and he wasn’t even ready for what was coming.

“No. No.” You shook your head to the left and right, “It’s blood. You fucking stained my expensive carpet with fucking blood.” You accentuated ‘expensive’ and raised your brows to voice your displeasure without even looking at him, which made your husband stop what he was doing to look up to you, blinking.

It’s the first time he lifts his eyes to you since you started this conversation, and an unreadable expression was all over his face.

Your working desk was turned towards him, which means you could still write on your typewriter as you were settling a score with him, you didn’t even lift your gaze to him and this added a dramatic side to the scene.

“So you’re not mad about the blood, you’re mad I stained the carpet.” He said utterly to himself, wrinkles of confusion drawing at the corner of his eyes.

You throw him a quick glance and see that he had dropped his papers on his crossed legs, he was now attentively looking at you.

“My fucking carpet, Tommy.” You highlighted, making him exhaling deeply.

You weren’t usually swearing that much, and the fact you did in this situation made him realize how mad you were.

“I can buy you another one.”

“You offered it to me the day we were coming back from our weekend in Paris.” You said, pouting.

This time you stopped writing and stared at him with puppy eyes.

“Yeah, because a couple days prior to that you made a scene about another carpet, Y/N,” Tommy said outright. He seemed fed-up with your obsession with carpets and came sipping on his drink.

You remember that day as if it was yesterday and couldn’t hold a laugh that escaped your throat, echoing in Tom’s ear that looked back to you.

The face he was making made you laugh even louder, so much he gave you his side look.

Of course, he loved to see his wife smiling and hearing her laugh, but with you, it was always more than just a smile, more than just a laugh, you were pretty dramatic, in everything.

When he would come home late, you used to sit in the armchair of your room and wait for him there, in the dark, lightening up the bedroom as soon as he set foot in it.

You were always lightening up the mood, you brought him something light. He knew that with you nothing was too serious, contrasting with his life where everything was, so no need to say you were succeeding at easing his mind.

He and you first met at the garrison, you forced the barmaid to give you a drink even though you were alone, using the excuse that you finished writing your first book and that it deserved to be celebrated.

When Tom heard that, he was instantly intrigued by you. A woman writing? It wasn’t the type of woman he knew. Of course, there was Lizzie but she was writing secretary things, not a book.

He was impressed, and somehow wanted to know more. That night was the first night since forever that Tommy spent the night with a woman without fucking her.

And a thing leading to another, you grew very fond of each other before the love came, submerging both of you with its violent waves.

Your marriage was still very fresh in your memory, as were your shared memories such as the day Tommy referred to before he took you to Paris for a weekend.

If you were, to be honest with yourself, you would say that the only reason for this weekend together was to make you forget about the time his men wrapped up a body in your carpet.

It was a windy spring day, Tommy was sitting in the garden at the table, his head dropped back to feel the wind fondle his face and embrace his figure.

The area was so calm and peaceful that your voice almost made him fall off the chair.

“Tommy Michael fucking Shelby! I’m fucking going to kill ya!” You were yelling at him, walking towards him in the grass, barefoot.

His eyes opened abruptly and he tilted his head towards you, hands crossed on his stomach.

As soon as his vision got used to the bright light, he frowned and straightened up on the chair, you were dragging a gigantic embroidered white carpet on the grass. And this wasn’t all, you were wearing your almost see-through grey satin nightgown.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” He desperately let out, getting up, ready to reach you.

“You fucking put down your little ass on that chair, Mr Shelby.” You screamed again while breathing heavily from dragging this huge luxurious piece to him.

He exhaled deeply and sat down, passing a hand over his face. He wondered what was on your mind this time.

You ultimately reach the perfect spot so he could perfectly see what you will be complaining about. You dropped the heavy piece of fabric you were holding and pushed strands of hair that were on your face behind your ears.

Sweat beaded on your forehead but you were sure it was worth it.

“What the actual FUCK happened with my carpet, Thomas?” You pointed to the multiple burn marks on your carpet. “Do you know how fucking expensive it was? It came from Italy, mate!” You angrily let out.

Tommy’s jaws dropped when seeing the integrality of the carpet, he knew what happened with this, but he wasn’t sure that telling it to you was a good idea at first. It’s when he saw your scolding look that he cleared his throat.

“Y/N… There was a fucking body in this.”

You opened your mouth in a perfect “o” shape, “There was what, where?” You solemnly repeated, hoping you didn’t hear right.

You didn’t care about Tommy’s business, you’d never showed any reticence toward the way he lived his life. You will never judge him, he was doing what he had to do.

But this… This was too much.

“There was --”

“Ssshh,” You interrupted him, “you fucking crossed the line Thomas, I bought that one with my own money. You owe money to me now! Fucking Blinder Devil.”

“What the fuck are you saying, Y/N? What line?” Tommy frowned even more. He was amused but a bit scared if he was, to be honest, how his oh so tiny wife could spit like that, he’ll never know.

He even thought for a second it was him that woke the monster inside of you by buying you your first carpet on your wedding day.

He coughed at the last part of your swearings. Well, it was true you were a writer so he shouldn’t be surprised you came out with such a nickname for him.

“Don’t forget you owe me carpets still. I ain’t forgotten about my Italian carpet!” You squint your eyes while looking at him, and that’s when you glimpse a smile at the corner of his lips.

You tried your best not to smile, but the vision of a smiling Tommy made your heart flutter more than anything else.

Your warm smile lighted something inside of him, and it was with haste that you got up to join him. Tommy was intently watching each of your movements as if you were mesmerizing him. You came to sit on the armrest of his chair, placing both your arms around his neck, your eyes anchored in his, and stayed there.

It wasn’t the only times he did shitty things to your carpets, and it’ll probably not be the last, but at least you will have plenty of stories to tell your children when you have some.

#Hubby! Tommy Shelby #Husband Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x Reader #Thomas Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

The Best Life ~ HJS [Request]

WORD COUNT: 3.3K

GENRE: arranged marriage AU, toxic family,

PAIRING: Jisung x Reader

A/N: I am far from the Angst queen but I hope you enjoy this sweetie

All your life things had been planned out for you, from the moment you could walk everything was set in stone by your family and you weren't in control of anything around you. From the way, you wore your hair your clothes, when you could speak and what you could do with your life. There was no control for you, the only control you had was when you could go to the bathroom and even that was timed sometimes by your family members. It seemed as though everyone else was in charge of your life while you sat there and watched everything happening around you like some kind of television show so when it came to an arranged marriage there were no surprises to you. It was only a matter of time until your family decided who you would marry and now it was that time, they'd arranged for you to marry someone called Han Jisung and that was all you knew about him, well that was all your family thought you knew about him but you'd done your research and snooped around as much as you could.

Apart from being one of the richest families in Seoul, there wasn't much to Han Jisung besides a few stories about who he was sleeping with, going to parties with and who he was friends with. It seemed as though he led a free life, something you were jealous of but if marrying him meant you even got half as much as his freedom you would take him in a heartbeat.

"Are you sure this is the one?" Your sister's nasal-toned voice asked as you stood in the dressing room, the day before your wedding and you were trying on a brand new dress because the first one wasn't "right". Meaning that because you had been the one to pick it that it wasn't good at all. It was the way it always worked.

"I'm sure of it, I picked it out myself." Your mother said proudly as you looked at yourself in the mirror, it was a beautiful gown but you were never going to admit to liking it. Liking it meant that they would take it away from you, you weren't allowed to have the things you liked in life.

"Come out Y/n, not all of us have all day." Your mother barked as you glanced over your shoulder at the lady who had helped you get dressed that day she looked just as worried as you did about your mother but this was nothing new to you. Having her decide your every thought and action was nothing new so the fact that she was deciding your wedding dress was acceptable. Taking one last look at yourself you ran your hand down the ballgown and smiled to yourself. It was a strapless bodice with a plunging necklace, tulle covering everything that needed to be cover and the top looked as though it was a corset. It had white and ivory beading around it to make it look more detailed and the fabrics were a mixture of lazy tulle and Royal organza. Thin layers of lace ranged from the bodice and extended of your hips and sides of the wedding gown, it was ultra-lightweight which meant it was going to be easy for you to walk down the aisle in. Tripping was one less thing you had to worry about.

Stepping out from the curtain you kept your expression blank and your mouth shut as you stepped in front of your mother and sister waiting for them to say something. In your life, it was spoken when spoken to and never say something unless they've asked for you to say something first.

"Turn," Your sister barked at you following in her mother's footsteps of giving you orders, you did a small and slow turn waiting for their input before you hear a sniffle coming from your mum. You glanced at her without saying a word knowing that if you even so much as tried to ask what was wrong the blame would be passed onto you.

"It's the perfect gown," She blew her nose into tissue as your sister hugged her from the side, the two of them crying together.

"She does look beautiful," Your whole body tensed as you heard the bridal worker mention that you were beautiful or even acknowledge that you were the one in the gown, you stared at her with your eyes widened in fear but not for yourself, for her.

"You should be the one in the dress mum, not her but tomorrow will be perfect I promise," You let out a sigh of relief as your sister and mother seemed to ignore the worker's comment. The wedding wasn't about you, it was never going to be about you, it was about your mother and what her wedding should have been. It was the reason the venue had changed almost six times, why your dress was changed around twenty and why the groom was someone your mother picked. It was all about her, never about you.

"Change. We have the rehearsal dinner in an hour." Your mother snapped as she looked up at you, your stomach growled at the mere thought of food. She'd had you on this crazy diet regime since she found out when the wedding was going to be, she wanted you to look the best of the best.

"Don't even think about it. You'll be having a salad and a drink, that's all you're allowed!" Without another word you walked back behind the curtain waiting for the worker to come and undo the buttons at the back of the dress.

"She seems strict," She whispered to you as soon as the curtain was pulled closed, your eyes stared up into hers in the mirror debating if you could speak without your mother hearing you but you just nodded at her before staring down at the floor. It was better safe than sorry.

Jisung stared at you as he watched you staring down at the plate in front of you, you hadn't said a word to him since arriving at the restaurant and it was beginning to bug him. Normally the girl he was seeing would be talking his ear off trying to get to know every little thing about him and his family but you didn't seem to care.

"I heard you got another wedding dress today, is this one finally "the one"?" Your father in law was just trying to make some light-hearted conversation but Jisung rolled his eyes at the mention of yet another dress. It wasn't your family's money that you were wasting trying on all the different dresses and playing dress-up with all he could think about was how you were using them for his money. Glancing to your mother to see if you had permission to speak you smiled weakly,

"Yes, the perfect dress for tomorrow.” It wasn’t a lie, it truly was the perfect dress something you would have picked out for yourself given you had the choice in your life.

“Better be, for the price of it,” Jisung grumbled loud enough for only you to hear, you glanced at him wondering what had gotten his panties in a bunch but he shot you a glare. There was no secret that Jisung had a strong disliking for you but from what your family put him through you didn't blame him, constantly spending his money, changing everything around the wedding and hardly speaking when he was around.

“What’s the point in buying all of the different dresses if none of them was right for you?” He questioned as soon his father began talking with your mother about church arrangements, you looked down at the glass of water in front of you it wasn't like he would understand if you told him or even believe you.

“A girl has to be sure," You lied speaking in just below a whisper just in case your mother had started paying attention, she'd made a rule of not speaking until she gave you permission. As soon as you and Jisung were married you could do whatever it was you wanted, speak whenever you wanted since having a divorce wasn't going to be an option. She didn't care if you messed things up after the wedding, it was before that she cared about. The wedding was for them, they needed the money and you out of their hair, it was all a convenience for them. Your heart sank inside of you as you caught your sister watching you from across the table, her husband mumbled something about you speaking without permission, it appeared everyone was included in giving you orders. You stared down at the table and began sipping on the water, poking at the salad in front of you and waiting for the whole evening to be over but it seemed to be dragging on.

"Have you written your own vows or are you going to read the originals?" Jisung's mother questioned when she noticed how awkward things seemed to be between you and her son but you looked at your mother before speaking.

"We're going to be writing our own," Your head snapped to your mother as well as Jisung's, neither of you knew one another well enough to write your own vows so you were just as shocked as he each other upon hearing your mother say that.

"We are?" You stumbled out without thinking, silencing yourself as soon as you saw a death glare come in your direction,

"It's a tradition in our family," Your mother said through gritted teeth, taking your hand in hers and squeezing so tightly you thought it was cutting off the circulation to your fingers which didn't go unnoticed by Jisung. His eyes stared down at your hand as he frowned to himself wondering why your mother was the one taking charge of everything, why you would look at her before speaking there was something that didn't add up for him.

Lingering behind after the rehearsal dinner Jisung took you from behind dragging you over to the toilets and it didn't go unnoticed by your mother who was beginning to panic on the inside that something was going on.

"Do you even want this?" The sudden question made you stare up at Jisung, he was red in the face from walking over to you and it looked as though he was angry about something.

"Yes, of course," You knew you were going to have to say everything you could to make him stay, if he tried to leave now everything would be blown. You would rather take your chances in a marriage where you don't truly love someone than staying with a toxic family that hated your guts.

"Why? You don't know me, I don't know you." Your heart was beginning to pump faster, so fast you could practically feel the blood running through your veins as you stared up at him with worry clear on your face.

"We know each other, I know everything about you." It wasn't a lie, you knew everything there was to know about him from the internet but he knew nothing about you, not the real you. He only knew the version your family perceived you to be and that was far from who you really were.

"You're so sheltered," He sighed as he looked at you, glancing to your mother when he noticed how uneasy you seemed to become without her around.

"We should take Y/n home, it's a big day for you both tomorrow." The fake sincerity in your sister's tone sent shivers down your spine but you flinched as she touched you, moving away from her so you wouldn't have to deal with her cold touch. Within seconds you were being dragged over to your mother who began dragging you out of the restaurant and towards her car, lecturing you about wandering off unattended.

The next day was supposed to be the best day of your life and yet you were sitting in your wedding dress in your changing room trying not to cry. You'd been woken up early and pushed around from stylist to stylist before finally arriving at the old church your mother had picked out. The altar was decorated to perfection which of course, lead to the comments about how you were never going to match something so perfect and the church outdid everything you were trying to do.

"It's not right," Your mother hissed at you as you raised to your feet waiting for her to nitpick at every detail about that day, your makeup was done the way she wanted, your hair was styled the way she had chosen everything was the way she wanted except for one important thing. It wasn't her getting married. It wasn't her that was going to stand up there in front of everyone and have the wedding of her dreams it was you.

"She won't be our problem in a few hours, we won't have to deal with her." Your father spoke as though you weren't even in the room, the way they always did. It was demeaning and made you feel as though you were nothing but something they had stepped in. That was the one thought getting you through the whole thing, the one thought that was going to keep you strong as you walked down that aisle and into a whole new life. Into your freedom. You'd decided the night before that once you were married you would tell Jisung the truth about everything, about why you were so quiet and what your parents were really like and pray that the two of you could at least be friends. You didn't need a husband and it was clear he did not want a wife.

Organs began to play inside the double doors and you knew it was time to start walking, your father linked his arm with yours as he glanced down at you.

"You better not trip, this wedding is everything." While normal daughters would exchange fond words with their father yours reminded you that you were imperfect and that he couldn't wait to get rid of you.

"Head up, back straight, don't slouch," He mumbled before the doors opened but it wasn't the reaction you were hoping to get, a room filled with people and yet they were all whispering and gasping to one another. Your eyes wandered over everyone as you slowly walked up the aisle until you realised what was so shocking to them all. Jisung was nowhere to be seen. His father was seen mumbling to your mother about something before storming out of the church and your father left you standing at the altar to be gawked at as though you were some kind of animal in a zoo. Your sister smirked from the sidelines as she saw your eyes beginning to well up at the thought of being stood up on your own wedding day.

"We appreciate everyone coming out today," Your father stood in front of you as he began addressing the full church, everyone exchanging comments about what they thought could have possibly happened between you and Jisung for you to be stood up but you were wondering the same thing.

"Did you say something?!" Your mother screamed as soon as the church was empty everyone had left one by one but not before gawking some more as you stood at the top of the altar, forced to watch as your freedom slowly seeped away from you. Your parents had been yelling accusations at you since the moment the guests all left, you didn't know what to do. Your only means of escape were gone and you had nothing left to loose, you were already a shell of a person.

"God knows what you said to him last night, something that humiliated us no doubt!" Your father snapped as he threw his hands up into the air, Jisung stopped just outside the door as he heard the yells coming from inside. He had come to speak to you alone thinking your parents would leave you alone for a while but all he could hear was yells.

"It's your fault he left, you know! You're nothing but a no-good piece of trash!" Jisung flinched for you as he heard your father scream once again he felt his heart sink as he realised why you had been so insistent on the married,

"I did everything to make this perfect for you! I did everything! Everything was perfect except for you!" Their words began to build up and build up until you felt as though you were going to burst with anger.

"What did I do that made you hate me so much?! What is so wrong with me?" You finally yelled out, staring back at them as they gave you a look of shared shock.

"We took you in! We loved and raised you!" Your mother scoffed at you,

"Love?! That's what you call love?! Training me never to speak unless spoken to, punishing me whenever I expressed myself!" Everything was finally bursting out of you and you were no longer able to control your feelings.

"I have no freedom! You've kept me in a cage my entire life!" Jisung's hand rested on the door as he waited to see if he should come in, he was impressed to hear that you were standing up for yourself.

"You should be grateful that we even dealt with you for so long! you're ungrateful," The door opened and you stared at Jisung in fear that he had heard everything that was going on,

"After everything we've done for you, this is how you show us you're grateful!" You said nothing in response to your mother but Jisung did, he began walking down the aisle and took you by the hand.

"Kids don't need to be grateful! They need to be loved and shown how to live in a world," Your father stepped forward to say something but Jisung slowly tucked you behind his body.

"You have no idea what-"

"Don't raise your voice at me, Y/n and I are leaving." You frowned as Jisung began to walk you down towards the exit of the church,

"Together?" You whispered just as confused as everyone else in the room seemed to be around you both,

"Blood is not thicker than peace of mind. Cut toxic family members out of your life," He wasn't speaking to everyone in the room he was speaking to you as he locked eyes with you, he could see how confused you were so he sent you a reassuring smile.

"I'm taking you away from them." He whispered as he began pulling you out of the church and into the parking lot, you didn't know where to start with the questions or if you ever wanted to question him.

"Get in," He smiled opening the car door and glancing at you as he waited, the dress you were wearing was hiked up to your knees and you climbed inside, looking forward to whatever your life had planned for you with your new freedom.

"Freedom looks good on you," Jisung chuckled as you laid on the beach, it had been months since your almost wedding and you'd never had to look back on your old family again. Jisung was your family now and he treated you better than anyone else in your life had before.

"It feels good on me too," You whispered turning to lay your head on his chest and look up at him,

"You're happy, right?" You nodded at his question and he smiled again kissing your lips softly. The two of you began dating not long after leaving your family behind, he was happy to get to know the real you and you fell head over heels in love with one another from the moment you began running away together. He was taking you everywhere you'd ever wanted to go, looking after you the best that he could, making your life together the best it could possibly be.

Tagline: @taestannie @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @minholuvs @anxiousbobatea

#skz #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz imagine #skz imainges #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #Han jisung #jisung #jisung x reader #jisung imagine #jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagine #han jisung imagines

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arrantsnowdrop · 3 years

Text

To be a Jedi - Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Request: “anakin/female!reader getting together fic that involves reader crying because she’s feeling self-conscious about her appearance and feeling worthless and anakin comforting her and calming her down and then accidentally confessing to her?”

Tags: @lothloriien

Warnings: self-deprecation, insecurities, etc. (~2,500 words)

~~~~~

Being a Jedi really sucked sometimes.

Not all the time. In fact, you normally enjoyed the fast-paced, demanding lifestyle you led. Even as a youngling you had taken pride in the ritual and responsibility of being a Jedi, and now, as a Padawan on the verge of facing the Jedi trials, you were more confident than ever that the Force had led you down the right path.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t have bad days every once in a while.

Your Master had been called away on some highly classified mission in the Naboo system, so you’d been spending the week at the Jedi Temple working on some independent research and participating in training sessions with the other senior Padawans. Unfortunately, they were focusing on lightsaber combat this week - something you were definitely not as skilled at considering your specialization in negotiation and communications.

It wasn’t that you were unathletic - you were training to be a Jedi for crying out loud - but it was hard not to feel a little self-conscious about how much you were struggling with the training exercises, especially when your assigned training partner was none other than Anakin Skywalker.

It was just past midday - you’d been training for hours already and still had a few to go. The sun was blaring down on the courtyard where you and the other Padawans were sparring under Obi-Wan’s supervision.

You panted heavily, eyeing Anakin as the two of you circled each other slowly. There was no question as to which one of you would launch the next parry - Anakin had taken the offensive right out of the gate - so all you could do was try to catch your breath and prepare yourself for his next attack.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, a few beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and some of his hair sticking to his face. His eyes were following your every move, tracking you like you were some kind of prey.

You hated this.

Suddenly, Anakin lunged forward, blue lightsaber whirring loudly as he swung it towards you. You groaned, lifting your own lightsaber up at the last possible moment to deflect him.

“Such a slow reaction time,” Anakin teased, grinning as he stepped back to give himself a wider range of motion.

“I thought it would take you longer to catch your breath,” you replied, voice strained as you blocked another one of his strikes.

You’d been friends with Anakin since Obi-Wan took him as a Padawan years ago, offering to help him as he played “catch up” with the rest of you. The fact he’d become such a strong Force-user despite starting so late was something you deeply respected him for, though you were perfectly content simply watching him display these skills.

Being on the receiving end of a lightsaber attack from Anakin Skywalker was not something you would consider enjoyable. You’d spent the whole morning dodging and jumping and somehow still losing every match.

You flinched as Anakin’s lightsaber hit your torso, the sting of the “training mode” setting hurting far less than the sting of your own pride.

“Seven to one,” Obi-Wan called from where he was watching. You groaned, rubbing your temples with your free hand and turning your lightsaber off.

“Hey, you were definitely doing better than time,” Anakin said reassuringly, sensing your frustration. “Improvement is all Obi-Wan is looking for.”

“Improvement doesn’t take away from the fact I’ve lost seven matches today,” you seethed, bending down to re-tie the laces of your boots.

“Perhaps if you worked out a bit more you wouldn’t lose so often,” one of the other Padawans jested. Your head snapped up, face flushing as you sent them a pointed glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked curtly, watching them look between you and Anakin uncomfortably.

“It’s just-”

They didn’t get a chance to finish, letting out a small shriek as they dodged a rock flying through the air. You turned around to look at Anakin, his slightly raised hand indicating who’d been responsible for the rock. At least he was using his Force capabilities in your favor now.

“Thanks,” you muttered, reigniting your lightsaber, glancing at the clock above where Obi-Wan was sitting. All you wanted was for training to be over so you could retreat to your room.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” Anakin said, a somewhat angry look on his face as he took a fighting stance across from you. “You’re perfectly capable of wielding a lightsaber, and you’d definitely beat them if you’d been paired up.”

“Hopefully,” you corrected him, “hopefully I’d beat them.”

“Definitely,” Anakin insisted, you rolling your eyes as you lifted your lightsaber in front of you.

----

What sucked about getting older was how little you saw Obi-Wan and Anakin. Your Master was responsible for conducting multiple research projects for the Jedi Council off-world, and Obi-Wan and Anakin hardly ever stayed on Coruscant for longer than a few days, so it was unlikely that you’d find yourselves in the same place for a decent amount of time anymore.

Normally, you would’ve used this week as a great opportunity to catch up with one of your oldest friends. This damn lightsaber training was getting in the way.

It had been yet another long day of sweating the equivalent of your own bodyweight and paling in comparison to Anakin’s abilities. Obi-Wan had focused on lightsaber combat in precarious and compromising situations, with one of which resulting in you falling off a two story rock wall.

As you stood in front of the mirror in your room you couldn’t overlook the spattering of bruises covering your torso and arms, all varying hues of blue and purple culminating from the last few days. You sighed, grateful you were getting the extra training you so clearly needed and nervous about what that meant. Imagine you’d been confronted by some Sith fanatic in the last few weeks - who knows how long you would’ve lasted?

Perhaps you were overthinking. You did have an extremely over-skilled training partner who made most other Jedi look incompetent with a lightsaber.

That being said, you still couldn’t shake what that other Padawan had said about you yesterday. Had you really become unathletic? You didn’t think you’d ever really neglected your daily training exercises, but perhaps those weren’t enough.

You sat down on the edge of your bed slowly, shoulder slumped. Maybe you weren’t as capable as you thought. The bruises all over you and lack of any actual visible muscle certainly pointed towards that.

----

The next morning, you skipped breakfast, giving Obi-Wan some offhanded explanation as to why you’d be missing training and heading for the library. You weren’t really skipping for no reason, your Master had given you a list of different research topics for you to look up in the Jedi Archives. Did you really need the extra time to get this done? No, but it still gave you a good excuse to avoid the feeling of physical incapability that accompanied your training sessions.

Plus, you didn’t want to slow the entire group down. Tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered yesterday when Obi-Wan made you repeat some dumb exercise on a floating raft over and over again, even though everyone else had already done it to his satisfaction. It was humiliating.

At least here in the library, surrounded by stacks of holograms and books, you were in your element. Here you didn’t have to move fast or chop anyone’s limb off out of self-defense.

It was sometime in the late afternoon when Anakin stormed into the library, loud footsteps immediately shushed by a swarm of librarians. You couldn’t help but grin softly, eyes meeting his as he marched over to you much more quietly.

“Even the great Anakin Skywalker is no match for an angry librarian,” you teased, him scoffing as he plopped down in a chair next to you.

“And where were you today?” Anakin asked, a strange intensity behind his question. You gulped, gesturing to the pile of transcripts and notes in front of you.

“I was right here,” you replied meekly.

“Since this morning?” he asked, eyes widening in surprise. You nodded.

“What the heck, Y/N,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Obi-Wan assigned me a different partner. Do you know how irritating every other Padawan is to train with?”

“No, I’ve only ever trained with you,” you said bluntly.

“Exactly!” Anakin responded a little too loudly, earning him a dramatic shush from the circulation desk.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, slapping his chest lightly. He rolled his eyes.

“What I mean is that I’ve only ever trained with you, too, so everyone else doesn’t live up to my expectations.”

“What expectations?” you asked quizzically, flipping one of your notebooks closed.

“Working hard but still having a good time,” he answered, waving his hand nonchalantly. “You never sacrifice good banter for anything, I value that.”

“Ah, I’m glad to know you only value me as a training partner for my humor,” you retorted dryly, gathering all your belongings into a pile and standing up. Anakin’s brows furrowed as he looked up at you, a confused look painted across his face.

“Hey, what?” he asked, standing up with you. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just makes sense that you only enjoy my conversation, not anything actually training-related.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, completely dumbfounded as you started walking away.

“See you tomorrow, Anakin,” you replied, refusing to shed any more tears until you reached your room.

----

The next morning you were too unmotivated to let Obi-Wan know you weren’t coming, deciding instead to stay in bed and do absolutely nothing. Well, you were reading, but what did that really matter to a Jedi? You were supposed to be able to do backflips through the air and take on five enemies at once, and yet here you were wrapped in two blankets feeling like absolute shit. Some Jedi you were.

You held your breath as someone began knocking furiously on the door, hoping desperately they would think you weren’t home.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” Anakin called. You groaned, turning around and smashing your face into the pillow.

“Y/N!” he called again.

“Don’t come in!” you shouted back, voice muffled through the pillow.

“I’m coming in.”

“Don’t-”

You never got the chance to finish, bolting upright in bed as the door flew open, Anakin stalking in. You rolled your eyes, just thankful he had kept the door on its hinges.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, cringing as you recoiled slightly at his harsh words.

“What do you mean?” you replied quietly, his face softening as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I meant what’s wrong, not what’s wrong with you,” Anakin corrected, taking your hand in his own.

“Nothing’s wr-”

“Don’t give me that,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t even try, I know you better than anyone Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You kept quiet, focusing on the way his thumb was rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.

“You’ve been acting off since we started training together, is it something I did?” he tried again, genuinely concerned. You laughed dryly and shook your head.

“No, Anakin, you didn’t do anything,” you replied truthfully, looking at him. “You’re perfect, I promise you did nothing wrong.” He gave you a small smile, looking down to where he was still holding your hand. He didn’t let go, only gripped you a little tighter, urging you to continue. You bit your lip, debating whether or not to tell him.

“Do you remember when that Padawan told me I needed to exercise more?” you asked finally. His head snapped up, eyes meeting yours.

“I knew it,” he murmured, nostrils flaring as he tried (and failed) to conceal his budding anger. “I knew it.”

“Anakin it’s ok,” you said, reaching out and rubbing his forearm, his gaze following your hand. “I mean, they were right, if I-”

“No,” Anakin said. “No, they weren’t right. They have no idea how strong you are, how capable-”

“Anakin I’ve struggled this entire week,” you blurted, eyes stinging and face heating up. “I pale in comparison to you, and the other Padawans, at least physically. I thought whatever training I’d been doing had been enough but clearly it wasn’t, so they’re right. I need to exercise more, I need to train more, I’m incapable of defending myself with a lightsaber and I don’t even look like a proper Jedi.” You thrust your bruised arms out towards him. “Look at these, you don’t have them, no one else does. I’m the only one who struggles with every exercise and test.”

You realized you’d begun to cry, tears rolling down your face and breaths shallow.

“Y/N,” Anakin murmured, hurt in his eyes as he took your arms gingerly in his hands. “Y/N, no.”

Your eyes widened as Anakin bent over, slowly pressing his mouth to each bruise on your forearms. You gulped, feeling a little dizzy as Anakin glanced up at you. “You’re an amazing Jedi,” he started, sitting back up straight and pulling you closer to him. You tried to pull away, not wanting to stain his robes with your tears, but he held you firmly. “You’re already stronger than half the people in that group, I’ll have Obi-Wan reassign you so you can kick someone’s ass and everyone will realize it.”

“Anakin-”

He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You closed your eyes, reveling in the warmth of his body against yours.

“There’s more to being a Jedi than using a lightsaber, anyways,” he continued. “You’re the only person our age in this whole temple that can negotiate with warlords and thieves and murderers and still come back unscathed with five new friends.”

You chuckled, biting your lip as he pressed a kiss against your hair.

“You’re perfect, Y/N,” he insisted softly, you shifting in his arms to gaze up at him.

You were surprised by how nervous he looked, as if he didn’t know how you’d react to what he’d just said, what he’d just implied. You just smiled softly, leaning up to press a slow kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Anakin,” you mumbled against his face, grinning as you felt him smile.

Suddenly he pushed himself up, forcing you down onto the bed and collapsing on top of you. You shrieked, bursting into a fit of giggles as he began nestling himself in your hair.

“Shouldn’t you still be at training?” you asked, a wide smile on your face.

“I was sent here by Obi-Wan to fetch you,” he replied smugly.

“So shouldn’t we both be getting back then?”

He propped himself up on his elbows, gazing down at you with a cocky smile on his face.

“I never told him when I’d be coming back.”

You decided you could afford to skip training another day - Anakin probably needed the rest anyways - and pulled his face down to meet your own.

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #star wars fanfiction

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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years

Text

Deadbeat Pt. 2

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Read Part One

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut, cursing, abandonment, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, this chapter talks about Reverend Teagardin/his actions towards the young girls in the story (nothing is described in detail- just accusations discussing how he gives off bad vibes and is creepy- if you’ve seen the film you already know)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

I hope you all enjoy!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

It was always so hot in that little one room chapel. There was no fan and everyone would be crushed in together like sardines. The air was always sticky and it turned everyone sluggish. Your mama never brought you and Tommy to church, but you saw how that singled you out in this community. The judgmental looks people would give you for not going always made you feel like they viewed your family as trailer trash. So when they left, you started going regular like everyone else. You wanted to make a good impression and give yourself an opportunity to be more involved in the community. You used to attend with Arvin’s family, but now you sit on the opposite side of the aisle.

You and Arvin were still on friendly terms. On your nights off, sometimes you’d be invited to join them for supper. Ever since you and Arvin broke up, you’ve politely denied his grandmother’s thoughtful invitations. Now that you were living alone with the Sheriff, you wouldn’t anticipate any more neighborly invitations but instead prayers to save your soul, like you weren’t already damned for ‘peddling the Devil’s drink’ as you’ve heard alcohol referred to so many times by Ms. Russell.

You didn’t care much for the new reverend, and you found yourself often zoning out during his sermons. You were more preoccupied with the uncomfortableness of the pews and how your thighs felt like you’d be ripping giant band-aids off the back of them when you stand up after the service ended- even if it was a cooler day. Reverend Teagardin made a terrible first impression in your opinion, and he never did nothing to make you think you were misjudging him. You trusted the Sheriff’s advice to steer clear of him. Though based on the liking he’d taken to talking to the high school aged girls after service ended, you were thinking you were too old for him anyways. You shook your head, chastising yourself for joking about something like that even just to yourself. You made sure to tell Lee whenever he did something to tip you off that he might be trouble. You didn’t trust him one bit.

After the service, you were almost ambushed by a couple of women who were notoriously known for being the town’s busy bodies. The shorter of the two was Ethel Perry, who absolutely wreaked of cigarette smoke and always carried a little beaded purse. The other was Ida Sinclair, whose hair was a silver blue, and always wore a turtleneck and a thick sweater overtop even in the middle of hot summer days. They were sweet ladies, and normally you’d love to gab and let them fill you in on all the town gossip. They were great to talk to. But now that you were on the other side of their gossip, their nice demeanor felt much more predatory now that they were seeking you out for information instead of sharing it.

“Sweetheart,” Ida said sweetly, cornering you outside by the steps. “You poor thing how are you holding up?” You were buttoning up your jacket, when the pair snuck up on you, catching you off guard.

“Oh Mrs. Sinclair, I’m doing just fine. No need to worry about me,” you say, giving them a small smile.

“Is it true you’re renting a room to Sheriff Bodecker?” Ms. Perry interjects, not even bothering with the small talk. You almost respected her more direct approach, the small talk Ms. Sinclair was attempting to make made you feel a tinge resentful of their attitude towards you.

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, not giving her anymore details. If she wanted the gossip, she’d need to own up to being direct in her behavior.

“We heard Janie kicked him out of the house,” Mrs. Sinclair said, her face plastered with worry like she felt sorry for the man. You smiled through your teeth and nodded.

“Makes sense,” Ms. Perry added, “Him needing a room and with your mama leaving you here alone and all.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say smiling through your teeth, you hadn’t realized you were grinding down on them that hard.

“Ms. Beaumont was going on and on yesterday about how it wasn’t fitting,” Ms. Perry continued. “You being a young single girl- working at that terrible bar, renting out a room to a man. She was insinuating something awful- but don’t worry dear. We know she’s just being meddlesome and trying to stir the pot where she shouldn’t.”

“Thank you, Ms. Perry,” you responded, sarcastically but they didn’t pick up on it. “It was lovely seeing you both,” you say, stepping away, “but I should be heading home now.”

“Too bad the Sheriff doesn’t come to Church,” Mrs. Sinclair, said, “He could be driving you, so you don’t have to be walking.”

The Sheriff worked on Sunday mornings and both of them knew that. You knew it was just an attempt to insinuate something else you didn’t have the patience to try to decode. You just nodded as a goodbye and started walking home. It never took long to walk, and you wouldn’t bother the Sheriff for a ride unless you really needed one- like if it was bad weather or if you were leaving work too late at night. You didn’t mind walking at all- gave you a chance to just clear your head and enjoy the fresh air, especially after getting out of that stuffy chapel.

You knew the Sheriff actually wasn’t working today. He told you this morning he was going to the courthouse to sign his divorce papers and then to pick up his stuff at the house. You’d see him later on that night when he finished that whole mess. It was the quickest divorce you’d ever seen. Neither one of them seemed to care to get lawyers. Based on what Lee told you so far, he really just was fine with her taking anything she asked for- including the house. His indifference to the whole thing really was like no divorce you’d ever heard about. You sympathized, because it was just him not wanting to prolong the painful ordeal of it all. He just wanted to get it all over and done with, and you understood that.

When you got home, you changed out of your Sunday dress and into some work clothes. A pair of overalls, a short sleeved tshirt and a pair of your old saddle shoes. You protected your hair with a bandana and decided to get to work. You got some free cardboard boxes from the grocer yesterday, and you resolved to help Lee out and clear out all of your mom’s old stuff. You told him when he left to leave the door unlocked for you and it would be cleared out as best you could get it so he’d had somewhere to put his stuff when he got back.

You started with the closet and getting rid of all her clothes. You’d call the donation center tomorrow and they’d send someone to come pick it all up. You weren’t sentimental about anything that belonged to her. Much like the Sheriff and his divorce, you just wanted to get this stuff out of the house and get the chore over with. You kept the photographs, and some of the things you knew might be worth something, like any of the jewelry she’d left in her jewelry box. You took anything that was hers and either tossed it or put it in the large donation pile.

You knew the weather tonight would be fine, so you opted to carry all the boxes outside and stack them on the porch. You figured it would be better and easier to deal with if you piled the full boxes outside before they came tomorrow. You didn’t touch Tommy’s room. You figured there was no need, and he was the only one out of the two you had a small amount of hope would someday come back, even if it was just to visit.

You closed the first box, and carried it down the hall and down the stairs slowly because it blocked your vision. At the bottom of the stairs, you propped the box on your hip so you could open the door. You then walked sideways out of the front door to drop it on the porch. As you were walking out you saw the familiar cruiser, driving down the road. You smiled, actually liking the feeling of having someone living with you. It was a little exciting. It was clouded by terrible circumstances on both your parts, but you hadn’t realized how lonely you had been living alone- even if it had only been a couple of days of Lee being here.

When Lee saw you walk out on the porch, he almost hit the garage door. You looked absolutely gorgeous, sweaty from working around the house and moving boxes. His heart felt strained in his chest when you smiled at him. That right there made his whole shitty day worth it. He hated facing Janie, scribbling his signature fast as ever on every document thrown at him. He hated that she was there with Miller, him standing behind her with his hand on her shoulder comforting her, like she wasn’t the adulterer in the room. It was infuriating.

He felt like a stranger in his own goddamn house, rummaging through everything grabbing what was his. Janie watched him like a hawk, following him around and saying nothing, like he wasn’t to be trusted to not take something. What like he’d steal something that was his? He hardly spoke two words to her. Miller sitting in his recliner, watching the news on the television. She made no attempt to even shield him from the look of another man living there. She wasted no time, announcing she’d be marrying the bastard as Lee was leaving. He mumbled a ‘congratulations’ and loaded the few boxes he had into the trunk of the cruiser.

Now seeing you there standing on the porch, all the bullshit he had to put up with today seemed worth it. It was grounding. He sighed, tossing his hat on the seat, and zipping up his leather jacket- ignoring the way it was fitting a little snugger. As he fumbled with the zipper, his mind started to wander- thoughts always clouded with you. He was usually able to keep his feeling pushed away when he was out, but the second he would see you again, all progress was lost. And here you are, like you were waiting for him to come back to you.

“I still have a few more boxes,” you say as he closes the door to the cruiser.

“I can move them,” he tries to protest, but you’ve already disappeared back into the house. He gets his own boxes out of the trunk and brings them into the house, leaving them on the living room floor for now. He hangs up his coat on the coatrack, on the hook next to yours, and then heads up the narrow staircase to see if he can help you. He gets to his room and he stops in the doorway, dead in his tracks. You’re on the floor, on your knees in front of a box, using a roll of packing tape to secure it shut. His heart stops and he’s frozen. He stutters to make himself known, but you don’t seem to notice the way he reacted to you. He’s relieved that you don’t seem to miss a beat, pushing the box in his direction, your way of telling him he can bring it outside. You stretch over and pull another box in front of you and begin placing folded clothes that were on the floor inside just to fill it to the brim completely before closing it.

That silent assembly line of the two of you makes the work go by quick. You have six large boxes ready to get picked up tomorrow sitting on the front porch, and Lee is able to bring his stuff upstairs. You decide to let him have some time to just settle, and you get started on what to do for dinner when you see it getting pretty late in the afternoon.

There was never any spoken agreement that you’d both eat together. It just kind of happens on its on the past two nights he’s been here. You’d be making dinner for yourself anyways, and making something for two isn’t that much more work. You know he doesn’t expect you to cook for him at all, but since you were taking up the kitchen anyways you don’t mind. You weren’t the best cook, but you’re pretty sure your cooking beats a cold sandwich from the diner.

Upstairs, Lee was letting his emotions get the best of him. His ever-present feelings for you- he actually wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was just an attraction, or maybe he was so used to coldness from Janie that he’s falling apart at a woman being nice to him and treating like a person. He needed to pull himself together. He closed his eyes for a second, picturing how you looked packing the boxes up. On your knees, the overalls hugging your figure, the little bit of sweat on your brow- it was the best sight he ever got the pleasure of seeing. He looks at the mirror that sat in the corner of the room. He sighs looking over his appearance.

There’s no way a beautiful, young girl like you would look at him the same way, as much as he wished it. His slightly protruding stomach, a sign of all the drinking and his bad diet. He had a little bit of a double chin from angles as well. He sticks is neck out to try to remember what his face looked like when his jaw was more defined. He realizes how ridiculous he was being. He didn’t think you were the kind of person to care that much about the things that very much bothered him. He runs a hand through his hair, and continues to hang up his shirts in the closet. You were turning him soft, and you had no idea.

He hears you coming up the stairs, and he feels his heartbeat quicken like you were going to catch him thinking about you. He was being so stupid, he chastises himself. He couldn’t have you affecting him like this. He turned his head and catches your eye as you are heading into the bathroom in the hallway.

“Just washing up before supper,” you say casually, and heading into the bathroom. He had to pull himself together. He sighed, thinking about your sweetness and hospitality ever since he showed up at your door two nights ago. You welcomed him into your home without a second thought. You trusted him, and that made him feel even more guilty. He couldn’t be thinking that anything between the two of you could happen. He needed to be a good man. But Christ, how even could a good man keep himself in check when he’s in such close quarters with you?

“Made mac and cheese with some grilled chicken if you’re hungry,” you say, not looking back at him but just immediately heading back down the hallway and down the stairs. He watched you walk away, biting his lip at how your ass looked in that denim. He gently hits his head against the mirror, like that’s somehow going to snap him out of it. He makes a fist and then stretches out his hands like that will do anything.

“Ms. Perry and Mrs. Sinclair cornered me outside Church today,” you said with a chuckle, as he came into the kitchen.

“Yeah?” he asks, taking the plate you hand to him. He opens up the drawer and grabs silverware for him and yourself while you put your plate together.

“Yeah,” you grinned, biting your lip. “I’m the talk of the town apparently.”

“I’m sorry about that, hun,” he says sympathetically, “That’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” you say, walking over to your kitchen table and taking a seat. “I find them kind of funny,” you shrug, “They were talking about me long before this and this is just the newest thing.”

“What did they say?” he asks, as he takes his seat across from you. It was a small table, only was able to seat two comfortably, anymore would be too crowded.

“They think I should be using you as a ride to Church,” you reply, “Also that our situation ain’t fitting according to Ms. Beaumont. But they insisted they don’t think that at all.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he grins.

“I thought she was gonna ask me how much I’m charging you for rent next,” you scoff before taking a bit of food.

“Do they bother you?” he asks. He felt bad at how this living situation would affect you. He understood how much keeping up appearances mattered in this town. If someone were to start a nasty rumor, your name would be tarnish all over town. You might as well start wearing a big red A on your jacket.

“Not really,” you shrug. “It bothered me in the moment, cause they cornered me, but I have no reason to be worried. It’s not like anything they say is gonna amount to anything without evidence. They can insinuate all they want.”

The word evidence hung heavy on his mind. His brain running through scenarios if you both actually had something worth hiding. Kissing you in the backseat of the cruiser pulled into some back road by the water somewhere or sneaking touches under the table at the diner. It wouldn’t be wrong, not really, he thought to himself. You’re an adult and if you felt the same way fuck what the town would think.

You actually thought the Sheriff was quite handsome. You hadn’t really been able to look past how intimidating he looked sometimes or his gruff exterior. The man sitting across from you was not like the guy that makes the town cower away from him at times. He was relaxed, his face especially. It was a rare form for him. The man seemed to constantly be stressed, full of pent-up tension, no doubt due to the stress of his job. You noticed that his eyes looked softer, and how blue they were. Suddenly, you realized it was just you and him- alone. Living in your house. You felt your face heat up, and he picked up on your change in demeanor.

“You alright?” he asks, looking over at you.

“Yeah,” you say, a little nervously. “Just need some water.”

You get up and head over to the cabinet next to the sink, and you reach up to get yourself a glass. Suddenly, you feel his presence behind you, making you jump. He’s just reaching to get himself a glass too, his body pressing very lightly against you. He gives you a concerned look as you look flustered and you let out a small gasp.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he says, and you could almost swear you saw him smirking. He takes his glass over to the fridge and pours himself some of the iced-tea from the pitcher you keep inside the fridge.

“I think you’re right about Reverend Teagardin,” you say, trying desperately to reorient yourself.

“He’s no good,” Lee agreed. “He’s crooked. Just be careful around him, sweetheart.” Those damn pet names were making your stomach churn with butterflies.

“I think I’m too old to be on his radar,” you admit quietly, in a rushed tone. Your accusation hushed, even if it was just you and Lee.

“You see him do anything?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not really,” you say, “but he talks for an awful long time to the high school aged girls after services. I don’t know it just gives me a gut feeling about him. Those poor girls, like Lenora- they don’t know when their being sweet talked and manipulated. Just makes me nervous. Married man talking to those girls so shamelessly- charming them.”

“I’ll try to swing by and check the place out,” he nods, looking a little lost in thought.

“That’ll make me feel so much better,” you smile. He grins and licks his lips, before taking a swig of his drink.

You both take a seat at the table again, finishing up dinner fairly quickly. You asked him about his day and he told you all about Miller and the papers, and you listened intently. You felt bad he had to go through that. Yeah, Lee was not a picture-perfect husband by any means, you were sure. But the actions he faced today still sounded harsh. Somewhere in your mind, you thought he deserved better. Maybe he didn’t, but the man was clearly in pain and it tugs at your heartstrings.

“Since you made dinner, I can clean up,” he offered.

“That’s really sweet. Thanks, Lee,” you smile shyly. This all felt so… domestic. You were acting like a married couple. It’s not like the two of you could help it. You were living under the same roof and existing in the same space. This is how people who live together interact. That’s it. Right?

“I think I’ll call and leave a message at the donation center so they send someone to get those boxes tomorrow,” you decide. You head over to the living room where you kept your phone, pulling out your address book out of a drawer in the table the phone rested on. Lee nodded, taking your dishes and his own over to the sink.

You sit on the couch, criss cross and hold the base of the phone on one knee, resting the receiver up to your ear with your elbow. You dial the number, the phone clicking every time the dial falls back into place.

Lee can’t make out what you are saying, but he chuckles recognizing the tone of voice you use- like a customer service voice he’ll hear you pull out at the bar often. He does the dishes, and just lets himself escape into his fantasies again. His mind was racing about what those women at Church thought was happening between the two of you. He knows its wrong, but god he wishes it was real.

He imagines that after you both have gone to bed you show up at his door in the middle of the night- looking like how you did the night you agreed to let him stay. You confess how much you want him and he just pulls you into a rushed kiss- you just overtaken by the sudden relief of all the pent-up tension. He imagines how it would feel to hear little moans against his lips coming from you when he slips his tongue into your mouth. He can almost feel what it would be like to have you tightly against his body. His hands being allowed to just freely explore you and how you must look under him, begging and needy-

“Okay, that’s all set,” you announce walking back into the kitchen. “Hopefully they’ll send someone over first thing.”

“G-good, yeah,” he stutters out, pulling himself out of his daydream. “Do you have work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I go in at 4,” you reply, not noticing how flustered he is. He’s relieved to see you looking in the fridge and it gives him a chance to adjust before you saw how hard he was.

“Need a ride?” He asks. “I can pick you up on my way home.”

“Perfect,” you smile when you turn to face him. “Thank you. I’m gonna see if there is anything good on the television we can watch.”

“Sounds good, doll,” he says, relieved when she finally heads back into the other room, taking her seat on the couch again, clicking through the channels.

He needed a minute before heading in there. Every time you were in the room he felt like his skin was on fire. He knew if he wanted to stay, he needed to get a grip. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He joined you in the living room and sat on the other end of the couch. There was an old picture playing on the black and white set.

Neither of you could pay attention to the damn screen no matter how hard you tried. The tension in the room- between the both of you was borderline unbearable. Both of you were stealing glances at the other, not realizing the other person was doing the same. When you would look over to him, his eyes would be toward the tv set, seeming to be watching the picture- but he also looked incredibly tense. You wondered if he was hanging out with you because he felt like he needed to. You feel awkward now thinking he’s just sitting though this to not be rude.

Lee was on the whole other side of the world in comparison to what you thought he was thinking about. He was trying desperately to gain some level of composure. He felt like he was acting like a teenager again, fucking jumping out of his skin sitting next to a pretty girl. He hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. An hour went by, neither of you saying anything- him just lost in his own thoughts. But then he felt your head hit his shoulder ever so lightly.

You had fallen asleep. He wondered how long you had been sleeping before he even realized. Here he was stressed out as ever and you are relaxed enough to fall asleep. He doesn’t even dare move. His whole body goes stiff, not wanting anything to wake you up. He wouldn’t move from this spot for all the money in the world. You were blissfully unaware at how you cuddled up next to him, your face resting in the crook of his neck. You were going to be the death of him.

He very carefully wanted to just make himself a little more comfortable. He slowly moved the arm you had pinned and adjusted so it was wrapped around your shoulder. His fingertips just grazing your skin where the sleeve of your t-shirt ended lightly. Your skin was so soft, and he bites his lip, thinking about how soft you must feel everywhere. The man was so goddamn touched starved. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was this close with Janie. It had to have been years since he experienced something this intimate. After a very long internal battle, he allowed himself to rest his head on top of yours and close his eyes for a few. He didn’t intend on falling asleep, just bask selfishly in the moment for a few minutes.

You opened your eyes and yawned softly. You looked at the clock and saw that it was well past midnight. You closed your eyes again, too tired to realize the position you were in at first. Then, a minute later you realized, and your eyes shot open again. Cuddled up to Lee’s side, his arm loosely around you. His head rested on the back of the couch, looking so peaceful.

Fuck. You were so embarrassed. You hoped he had fallen asleep first and would have no knowledge of this interaction in the morning. You carefully untangled yourself from him, moving as slow as possible to not wake him up.

You clicked off the TV and then turned off the lights, getting ready to retire up to your room for the night. You felt so hot, flushed with pure embarrassment. Your mouth was dry and the only thing you think about was cold water. You tip-toe into the kitchen and fill yourself a glass, drinking the whole thing at once. You turn off the kitchen light and leave your glass in the sick before heading upstairs.

You change out of your overalls and shirt and put on your blue nightgown. You head across the hall to the bathroom, navigating in the dark. You brush your hair, wash your face and brush your teeth before climbing into your bed and swaddling yourself with your many blankets. Your eyes are heavy, and the feeling of being in Lee’s arms is still present on your skin.

His large hands sliding up your thighs is what jolts you awake. His calloused hands moving their way up your body, pushing up your dress as they went. He dips down and presses a tantalizing kiss to your lips, one hand cupping your cheek softly and the other rubbing over your wet panties. You kiss him back, opening your mouth and letting his tongue in. You can feel his hand slip under the waistband of your panties and his thumb gently rubs your clit. Without even questioning anything, you moan and he trails his lips down to your neck, and you shiver at the feeling of his stubble. You arms wrap loosely around his neck, and your fingers play with the ends of his short hair. He groans against your skin and the sound just sends a shiver throughout your whole body. You can feel him smile, and he pushes two fingers inside. You gasp and he muffles your sounds with another deep kiss. You feel overwhelmed by how good it feels combined with the terms of endearment that fall from his lips as he praises you.

The ringing of your alarm clock scares the shit out of you, and your eyes fly open at the sound. You’re breathing heavily, and you feel your hair sticking to your forehead. You let out a heavy sigh, and click off the alarm, and then cover your face with your pillow. You felt how wet you were without having to check. You had a sex dream about Lee. A fucking wet dream about Lee Bodecker.

Part Three

Taglist:

@asylumaniac

@rosalynshields

@jiminlife2k18

@scar-is-bi

#lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker #the devil all the time #lee bodecker smut #smut #angst #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan one shot #lee bodecker x y/n #sebastian stan smut #fanfic

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oscarseyebrow · 3 years

Note

Here’s a prompt for you: 24 “Don’t mind if I do.”

Feel free to ignore this but I’m thinking AU Poe? Maybe something focusing on what his life would be like if he hadn’t joined the Resistanc? Thank you, love you 😘

gif by the wonderful @zoriis 💖

Rating: M Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader Word count: 5k Warnings: Drinking, language, smoking. AN: Song lyrics taken (and changed) from Never Had. Masterlist | Taglist

The cantina is heaving by the time you finally arrive - late, as per usual. It really isn’t your fault. Whatever your friends may say -- if you ever make it to the table -- it’s not your fault. For every task you’d managed to wrap up at work, two more came across the desk for you and Maker, you really need to learn how to say no.

Leaving work late is the domino to topple the rest, which somehow sees you almost an hour late as you turn sideways, trying to squeeze between two groups of people. It’s so fucking busy and you don’t want to be here.

Come for drinks! They had said in the messages being exchanged throughout the day. There’s some live music on tonight. They’d then added. After the week you’ve had, the thought of drinks is a delight -- but not the live music. Not the packed cantina, full to the brim with people. You should have known it would be like this. Yet, here you are.

Everything is so warm and clammy in the dimly lit room; the heat from all the bodies mingling with very little space to dissipate between the walls and the low ceiling. It’s the kind of heat that wets your skin and causes clothes to stick to a thin covering of perspiration. You can already feel it as the smallest beads begin to build on your lower back beneath your layers. And you’re so desperate to reach the booth and relieve yourself of your jacket, but now you’re trapped. The fabric caught between the two bodies you’re attempting to squeeze between.

“Excuse me,” You tug and tug at your jacket, but to no avail. “Hey, can you… Just…” Another tug and you’re free; the abrupt release causing you to stumble backwards and straight into someone else. There’s a sudden yell that’s quickly followed by a wetness filling your boot and your jaw is already clenching as you glance down, seeing the empty glass rolling away and the contents of it now soaking through to your sock. Fucking great. Yes, please, allow this night to become so much worse than you could have ever foreseen.

Really, there are no words. You can’t blame this guy, you were the one to stumble into him and knock his drink out of his hand. But you still feel the unjustified rage bubbling in your stomach while you glare daggers at him. Without saying anything, you fix your jacket from where it has slipped down over your shoulder and then trudge the rest of the way to the booth; the trail of single wet footprints being left in your wake.

“You made it!” Zee, a friend from your previous place of work, is the first to spot you as she gets to her feet to throw her arms around your shoulders for a quick hug. “What took you so long?”

“Work.” You groan and give her one of those exasperated looks before moving to take a seat beside the others, but you’re quickly stopped by the hand of another friend, not allowing you to move any further.

“Last one in buys a round of drinks.” He grins up at you, clearly a few rounds deep already. In an attempt to keep your thoughts to yourself, you press your lips together in a tight line and look between all of the glasses on the table. They’ve barely been touched. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.” He then shrugs and leans back in his seat, looking all too smug with himself. If only he knew the tight thread your patience is hanging from right now, he wouldn’t be sitting there looking so smug. Finally, your eyes sweep back over to Zee and watch as she gives you a small, apologetic shrug.

Right.

With a heavy sigh, you turn on your heel and begin the struggle of pushing your way through to the bar; that unjustified rage bubbling away again with every shoulder and elbow that catches you as you weave between bodies. Finally, the bar is in sight, it’s only a few feet away and that’s when you stumble; hands quickly grasping for anything within reach to steady yourself as you gasp loudly. It’s a stomach turning moment, much like misjudging the last step in the dark. You lose your footing and know the floor is going to be greeting you real soon.

Thankfully, a hand catches hold of your arm to steady you and guide you forwards so that you can brace yourself against the wet bartop. When previously thinking if this night could get any worse, it hadn’t been a challenge to yourself. Yet, somehow, another domino topples over as you straighten up and turn to give your thanks to the stranger who saved you from the embarrassment of falling down. Your mouth opens but your words stall, not quite making it out as you meet the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“I… Uh…” You stutter while drinking in the handsome face that’s still watching you with interest; eyebrows arching towards soft curls that have fallen free across his forehead from where his hair is swept back. Maker, he’s beautiful and all you can do is stare. “I…” You try again, but become very aware of the hand that is still holding your arm to keep you steady. A whole different kind of heat creeps across your skin now, adding to the warmth of the cantina while your eyes lower to the way his dark hair curls beneath his ear.

“Thanks.” You clear your throat, managing to force your unwilling words out. It starts as a hint at the corner of his lips, his mouth twitching ever so slightly while watching you before a smile finally curls over them. It’s a smile to light up a damn room. It’s vibrant and it radiates warmth as you watch the way his eyes crinkle, showing you how genuine this gesture is. Oh, you’re in trouble and your eyes are falling faster than you were only moments before. They come to land on luscious lips and that’s where they linger for maybe a second longer than they should -- they look so soft, so welcoming and they’re parting as he finally speaks.

“You doing okay?” Your saviour leans forwards a little as he asks that, allowing you to hear a voice that you swear drips actual honey. You should be embarrassed. But, you’re not. And for a fleeting moment, you find yourself smiling back at him, allowing him to captivate you and draw you in. It feels like the first genuine smile you’ve given since walking into this place, and you’re throwing it at a stranger you’ve just met.

“No.” You laugh, unable to help yourself. “I’m really not. I’ve been dragged here to see some shitty musician, I have someone’s drink swimming around inside of my boot and I have to buy a round of drinks because I’m late.” The man’s hand finally leaves your arm while he leans against the bar, keeping his body turned to yours now that you have seemingly caught his attention.

“Nice to meet you, Late. I’m Poe.” His hand extends towards you as he introduces himself and it takes you a moment for his awful joke to finally click. Oh. Stars. He’s witty as well as handsome. And as an automatic reaction, your hand reaches to take his, curious to know what his skin feels like as you shake it in greeting. Smooth, yet calloused. His palm holds a softness that his fingertips lack and you can’t help but wonder what his story is.

“That’s not-” You begin, as though considering correcting him and telling him your actual name, but you think better of it and simply shake your head with a small laugh. “You know what? Never mind.” Releasing his hand, you turn your attention to the bar and try to make eye contact with the server to let them know that you’re waiting. It’s so busy. You know this is going to take some time.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Poe doesn’t beat around the bush, does he? He’s straight in there, very forward with his offer while he continues to watch you long after your eyes have left him. But even as you stare at the coloured bottles behind the bar, you can still picture the jaw-line, covered with a few days worth of stubble which gives him a somewhat rugged look that counteracts the smoothness of his voice. And those lips. Full and perfectly even at the top and bottom. Your timing is all wrong as you finally glance back over at him and catch him licking at them after finishing his drink, waiting for your answer before ordering another.

You should go back to the booth. You’re here with friends, to see some live music and hopefully have some fun. But the longer you stand here, the more this offer seems much more appealing. They won’t miss you for one drink, will they? It can be quick. So you finally nod and force your eyes away from those lips, desperately trying to keep your face from showing everything you’re thinking right now.

“You can.” And so it’s decided. Tugging your jacket off, you’re hoping it helps with the heat and the way your hair is already beginning to stick to the nape of your neck, but it really doesn’t. It’s heavy and almost suffocating with all of the bodies packed inside of the cantina, yet, this man feels like a breath of fresh air. An attractive, bright, breath of fresh air and you’re desperate to breathe him in.

Poe makes a small motion with his hand on the bar and one of the servers walks down towards him, greeting him with a smile of familiarity. Interesting. This man appears to be known here, perhaps a regular - in any case, the two men know each other as they interact and Poe orders his drink first before turning to you so that you can do the same.

“Jet juice, please.” Poe watches you for a moment, silently storing that information to mind, or silently judging you from your drink choice, you’re not quite sure. But then his attention is gone and he slips the credits across the bar top to pay for the drinks. Even his profile is striking. You make yourself comfortable on the stool beside him while watching him, completely distracted from the chain of events that had brought you to this moment. It’s as though a domino in the line had fallen out of place, breaking the toppling effect to give you a break and as much as you don’t want to admit it, you find that you’re actually enjoying the evening now.

“So, why are you walking around with a drink in your boot?” Those dark eyes sweep back over to you again while Poe turns his head and after some consideration, his body turns, too. It’s now that you notice his shirt is open a button or two more than you’re expecting, revealing hints of a toned chest that’s covered in a light sheen under the lights. Maker, you can only imagine what his skin must feel like beneath your tongue. The warmth and the taste against the strong muscle while you drag it upwards along his throat -- no, stop. You need to stop. But you find that you can’t. Not now that your eyes follow the chain around his neck, right down to the ring that glints and glimmers against his chest.

Is he married? Was he married? You can only make up stories in your head about this stranger as you judge him based on what you can see.

“I bumped into someone…” You begin to explain.

“Do you do that often?” Poe’s response seems to bounce back instantly, the ball quickly falling into your court and keeping you on your toes in the most pleasant way.

“No, I got stuck. I mean, I got my jacket stuck. And then I stumbled and bumped into someone and…” You motion with your hands in an attempt to show him the way the liquid had fallen down your leg to fill your boot. His eyes practically sparkle as he presses his lips together in an attempt to keep himself from laughing at you.

“Don’t…” You warn him, despite a smile curling onto your lips again. “This is not a day to laugh at me, Poe.” There’s something that feels familiar in the way you speak his name, as though this isn’t the first time your mouth has formed the word. But, you can’t seem to place it. You’ve never met him before - That much you do know. You would remember someone this handsome.

“Is your sock wet?” The amusement drips from his voice now and he quickly glances back towards the bar as the two drinks are set down.

“Wet and sticky.” You laugh. Almost simultaneously, you reach for the glass at the same time as he does; your hand briefly grabbing his instead of the cold glass. The warmth is unexpected and not entirely unwelcome before you quickly snatch your arm back and throw an apologetic glance over at him. Somehow, you don’t think he seems to mind because he doesn’t flinch or try to pull back from the brief contact. Poe is still calm and collected as he pushes the glass towards you this time, helping you to avoid any further embarrassment. Why are you like this?

“Did you not think to take it off?”

“Take it off?” Your question doesn’t really answer his question as you take a sip of your drink and swallow down the bright liquid. It adds even more warmth to your body while it slides down your throat and seems to pool in your stomach, blazing a trail the whole way down. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.” You admit and then lick your lips to collect any lingering taste there.

That’s when you notice Poe’s eyes drop, almost in the exact same way yours had when mesmerized by his own lips. They seem to linger for a moment before he reminds himself to look back up to your eyes again, watching you with interest. You have his attention. And just to test that, you reach up to swipe your thumb against the corner of your lower lip -- his eyes instantly falling again to follow it. The initial attraction is no longer one-sided.

The sound of a glass smashing and cheering over the other side of the cantina breaks the moment as you both glance over, watching a group of friends laughing at a member of their group who had dropped a drink. Pity your boot wasn’t there to catch it. When you finally turn back to look at Poe again, he’s taking a couple of gulps from his drink; the muscles in his throat working with each swallow until he lowers his glass again. Look away. Look away. But all you can do is swallow thickly until he speaks again.

“Did you say you were here with friends?” That suave voice enters your thoughts and brings your attention to the present moment as Poe asks his next question, interested to learn more about you. He’s making easy conversation from the first thing you told him; your wet boot and the fact that you were here with friends to see some musician. Would you still rather be at home now?

“Yeah, they’re over…” You trail off as you sit up taller on the stool, attempting to look between heads and shoulders to spot your group in their booth. Eventually, you make eye contact with one of them and give them a small wave. “There.” Poe’s eyes follow yours to where more of them are looking now, pointing over at you and clearly having a discussion about the fact you're sitting at a bar with someone you’ve just met. You know, it’s not your usual style -- but there’s something about Poe that seems to draw you in after stumbling into his gravitational pull.

Poe also waves over to them and the look on Zee’s face is an absolute picture. You’ll fill her in about him later and how you ended up here.

“They look happy to be here.” He observes with amusement and he’s right. They really do. You’re not sure what they’re so excited about, but they’re practically buzzing as they talk amongst themselves while looking over at you again.

“They’re always happy to be here.”

“But you’d rather be at home?” Poe asks, as though he already knows your answer to that.

“Yes.” You tell him honestly and laugh again. “All day I’ve been thinking about drinking wine on my sofa and falling asleep.” Your truthfulness has him laughing this time and the sound is wonderful. It’s so rich and full of character as it rolls out from his chest, catching the attention of others around him. It’s a sound of happiness in its truest form; nothing forced, nothing fake - simply Poe enjoying the moment that he’s sharing with you.

“Yet, here you are.”

“Here I am.” You smile at him and take another sip of your drink.

“Willing to put yourself through the torture of listening to a shitty musician, just for your friends.” It’s you that laughs this time and you set your glass down, drying off the condensation against the side of your leg.

“You think he’s shitty, too?”

“Oh, the shittiest. Never seems to get any better.” Maker, he gets it. You’ve never actually heard the artist you’re here to see -- Hell, you can’t even think of the name now that you try, but Poe seems to understand. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you came.” There’s such honesty laced with his amusement and it momentarily catches you off-guard; your laughter falling silent while you watch him with a lingering smile.

“Yeah… Me too.”

An easy silence settles as you take the time to look over Poe’s face again, picking up subtle details that you may have overlooked the first time. The peppering of greys in his stubble, a small scar on his cheek and the way his eyelashes seem to fan out right at the ends of his upper lids. Those striking looks make it difficult to avert your eyes when his meet yours, so you hold them for a few seconds and simply smile at each other, as though already knowing where this encounter is going to end up.

But the man behind the bar interrupts the moment all-too soon; his presence in your periphery also catches Poe’s attention as he glances over at him.

“Is it that time already?” Poe asks and finishes his drink without ordering another. There’s a sense of disappointment settling in your stomach at the thought of this man leaving before you’d really got to know much about him.

“Got a few minutes, but they’re ready whenever you are.” The man taps the bar top a couple of times and then leaves Poe to it. But he’s already straightening up as his eyes find yours again and before he can say anything, your mouth is blurting out words you weren’t intending to voice out-loud.

“Are you leaving?” As much as you try to play this casually, there’s still a hint of disappointment in your voice and you know that he hears it.

“I am…” Poe trails off and then throws you a grin; it’s different to the smiles you’ve been getting out of him and you suddenly find out why. “Got some shitty music to play.” It takes you a few seconds, but then something clicks. A light comes on so suddenly in your brain and you feel your mouth open, then quickly close again -- a motion that you repeat a few times as everything begins to make sense.

“You’re-”

“I am.”

“No…” You trail off, feeling the heat of embarrassment rush to your face and the back of your neck. “Why didn’t you say something?” Maker, you’re mortified. You’ve been sitting here, indirectly complaining about being dragged to see him. He’s the shitty musician.

“You didn’t ask…” Poe trails off, as though it’s the most obvious point he could make. “But it was worth it. Your face, a real picture.” And then he pauses, as though he wants to say something before thinking better of it. Instead, he quips, “I hope your sock dries out.”

“Yeah, me too.” You smile and watch as his lips curve upwards to return it; the genuine quality of it bringing that same sparkle to his eyes before he finally steps away to make his way through the crowd of people. Within a few seconds, he’s gone from your sight and you exhale a heavy sigh before laughing to yourself. Maker. That was embarrassing, in the best possible way.

By the time you make it back to the booth -- luckily, with no more accidents -- the first song has already begun. Seconds. That’s all the time it takes for the cantina to fall silent; everyone seemingly absorbed in the man who takes command of the whole room with only his voice. There’s no theatrics, no big show -- just Poe. Poe, his guitar and a soothing voice that washes over the crowd.

And you have to admit, he’s not a shitty musician. In fact, he’s far from it.

That melancholy voice stirs emotions inside of you that you weren’t expecting to feel tonight. They’re simultaneously heartwarming yet somber. His tones are gentle, yet rough. You’re no longer angry and frustrated at the events that had led to this moment; in fact, you’re far from it as you sit there with a soft, mellow smile on your face. Each song earns applause and sounds of approval from the crowd, causing the man on the stage to smile in the way that illuminates him brighter than the spotlight trained on him.

“There was no writing on the wall, no warning signs to follow... I know now, and I just can't forget... You're the best I never had.”

You can’t decide if it’s real or just wishful thinking, but it feels as though his eyes sweep across every so often to your direction, almost as if he still remembers where you had pointed out your friends to him earlier. You tell yourself that he’s not actually looking at you, not with all these other people in here who want to see him perform. But with each meeting of his gaze, it’s hard to convince yourself otherwise. It makes you feel almost giddy to think that in a cantina full of people, you still have his interest.

“In this motel, well past midnight... When I'm bluer than a bruise...”

It’s not a crush. It’s not. You’re not a kid, but it sure feels similar; it makes you smile and avert your eyes, it makes your stomach flip with a combination of excitement and longing to talk to him again. Maker, you want to be close enough to him to admire the way those eyelashes caress his skin with each blink, or the way his eyebrows raise to signal his amusement in conversation. You want to allow yourself to gravitate towards him again and lose track of time while appreciating the way he seems to listen to each word you speak.

But then, you swear everything momentarily stops. Everything around you becomes nonexistent, as though you’re the only person sitting there while your heartbeat kicks up a notch inside your chest.

“You come stumbling in, through the half-light, in your funny… wet boots.”

No, this isn’t a crush. In this very second, it’s a whole goddamn explosion of exhilarating amusement as you find yourself laughing out loud at the obvious change in Poe’s original lyrics. They don't even rhyme but they're about you. It’s endearing mockery and an attempt to draw you in. He knows that he has you because there’s a grin on his lips as he continues singing. Maker, how can one man be so kriffing charming?

Suddenly, you have a million reasons to be thankful you accepted the stupid invitation to come here tonight

You sit and listen to Poe’s captivating voice with a soft smile on your face, reveling in the intimacy he’s created between you with a simple reference to your shared joke. Despite the fact that this place is packed and he has a large audience hanging onto his every word, it almost feels like he’s singing for you.

As soon as the set is over, the bustle of the cantina resumes; everything becomes far too loud again. You can’t deny it, the good mood that you’re now in, mixed with the flow of drinks through Poe’s show has a relaxing buzz settling through your limbs while you try to keep up with the conversation going on in the booth.

“Another drink?” Zee motions to your empty glass that you’re still holding in your hand, having unknowingly finished it while distracted. You weigh your options and shake your head.

“No, thanks. I’m going to grab a smoke.” You politely decline and wait until she slides out of the booth so that you can follow as you pick up your jacket and slip it on. It’s still far too warm in there to be wearing layers, but you know the air outside carries a bite tonight.

Thankfully, your attempt to get out of the cantina is much more successful than the one getting in and you’re soon wrapping your arms around yourself as you step out of the way of the doors, trying to keep in some of the warmth you’d been willing to leave you earlier. Even from outside, you can still hear the muffled rumbles and voices coming from the other side of the wall. A faint smile settles onto your lips as you slip a cigarette between them and make quick work of lighting it up.

No sooner are you exhaling the smoke and watching it curl upwards towards the cloudy sky, than the door to the cantina opens again and there’s a momentary rush of warm air spilling out into the cold night air. Your eyes slide over and that smile begins to curl further onto your lips as you watch Poe look to his right, then to his left before he spots you.

“Hey, Late.” His movements are almost a copy of yours as he steps out of the way of the door and comes to stand in front of you instead. “Your friend said I’d find you out here.” Of course she did. Your eyes move over Poe’s face, noticing that some of the curls you’d been staring at earlier were now damp and clinging to the skin around his temples from where he’d clearly been sweating while performing.

“Had to make my escape…” You trail off and lean back against the wall while you watch him. “Could only take so much of that musician.” This earns you a laugh while you pull the small, compact tin from your pocket that has your rolled cigarettes inside and offer it to Poe. “Want one?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Poe doesn’t need to step as close to you as he does while accepting one of your cigarettes, nor does he need to rest his hand against yours while dipping his head when you offer him a light, but he does. And the smallest contact of his hand brushing against yours creates the same tingling sensation as it had when reaching for the glass at the same time.

Poe frowns slightly as he takes a deep drag from the cigarette and then exhales slowly; his tongue licking at his lips, which momentarily distracts you from everything else. The lower one glistens in the lights strung up outside of the cantina and it takes every bit of self control you have not to step forwards and kiss him. And he knows it. It’s written all over his face while he watches you without saying anything.

An easy silence settles as you take turns drawing from your cigarettes; you, still leaning against the wall and letting your eyes drink in every inch of him while he stands before you, doing the exact same. Occasionally, you share a smile when your eyes meet his and hold him in a lingering gaze. He’s still just as handsome as the moment he caught you; his striking looks having stolen your words from you while you’d tried to compose yourself.

But now he was so much more. Charming, yet a tease, with a voice that could melt like butter and ooze a delightful softness. But there was something about him that was rough around the edges; a rugged energy that drew you in and made you want to know more.

“Do you want to grab some food with me?” Poe finally speaks after what feels like the longest time. Food? With this man? Your smile tells him your answer before you’ve spoken a word, yet you still take a few seconds to keep him hanging before you finally nod.

“I’d like that.” Your answer has that smile curling over his lips again as the corner of his eyes crinkle softly.

“Yeah, me too.” Poe throws your last words to him from earlier right back at you as he holds out his arm, and with the final drag on your cigarette, you discard it and push yourself away from the wall so that you can link your arm through his.

Maybe coming to see a shitty musician hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

--------

Taglist: @the-scandalorian @fett-ching @ohkarabast @salome-c @dinjarin-baket @meanperegrine @uncle-kenobi (hope you don't mind me tagging you, fellow poe hoe 💖) @the-little-ewok @mypedrom (didn't forget you this time sweetie 💖)

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x gn!reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #writing prompt #star wars fanfiction

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xmint-conditionx · 3 years

Text

art on exhibit | myg + jhs feat. knj

pairing: sugardaddy!hoseok x fem!reader, ceo!yoongi x fem!reader, brat!reader, sub!reader, dom!hoseok, dom!yoongi w/c: 5k but i feel like it should be so much longer for some reason smh summary: you and your sugar daddy, hoseok, are big fans of exhibitionism, but this is the craziest you’ve ever taken it. most of his prestigious party guests are jumping to get to get their hands on you. will you be able to handle it? tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, remote controlled vibrator, almost reaching limits, spanking, marking, biting, ball gag, degradation (slut), praise, punishment, crying, light oral (f recieving), public humiliation, rope play, shibari, suspension, almost like being pimped out but u like it?, open relationship, hoseok is sort of protective tho, overstimulation, subspace, the orgasm nearly kills you, this one is real nasty, namjoon is just a guest appearance tbh but maybe later he doesn't have to be???

a/n: this thing has given me so much trouble by not appearing in tags. it didn't the first time i posted it on the old blog, and it hasn't been showing up this time either, so please feel free to give this one some extra love. also, honestly, i was sitting on this idea for a long! time! before i actually wrote it out. if i was spaced out in my last class of the day, i was probably thinking about this. i am almost proud and almost ashamed to share this with you all, lmao cause it's honestly a huge fantasy of mine. i’ve been really wanting to do a sugardaddy!hoseok thing for a while, and if you guys like this, then i think i can add more to the story. alright, y’all stay nasty. enjoy!

The ropes dig into the skin of your thighs ever so gently, and you close your eyes to listen to the din of the party that surrounds you. Guests only arrived 30 minutes ago, and you’re already dripping wet. This isn’t the first time you and Hoseok have done exhibitionism, but this is the farthest it’s ever been taken. Men and women in their best black tie attire surround you, glasses of his most expensive champagne in their hands. Not all of them are looking at you; some are too bashful to acknowledge your existence. Some only sneak glances when they think nobody else is looking. Few have come up and examined your entire naked frame, suspended from Hoseok’s ceiling in the middle of his entertainment space.

They’re examining you as if you were a piece of fine art; just another pretty and peculiar object that Hoseok has collected. You’re placed among some of his other art pieces - some Pollocks, some Dalis, some Picassos, and one O’Keefe - and somehow, you feel like you fit. That’s what Hoseok had said anyway. That since you were one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen in his life, he wanted to feature you as the work of art you are. He chose to display you in his favorite way.

Red shibari rope surrounds each of your legs like a cage before confining your hands behind your back. The rope trails over your torso and is twisted and knotted around your exposed breasts, but not tightly. Just enough to accentuate your natural shape. Your legs are tied so that they remain apart, one held higher than the other to leave you fully exposed. Your stomach is facing the floor, but not entirely; Hoseok has tied you so that you’re almost lounging comfortably there, suspended in midair. The lines of rope flow with the form of your body, and even though all of your weight is pressed down onto them, the ropes are the soft and luxurious kind - no doubt expensive - that make you feel as though you could be floating instead.

Just then, your attention is jolted to your cunt, where his favorite black remote control vibrator has just been triggered. You clench around it, and your moan is muffled by the ball gag that is secured over your lips. When you open your eyes, he is standing solidly in front of you.

His black button up shirt and jacket combination is draped over his shoulders beautifully, and his shiny brown hair is parted in the middle. He looks incredible. Radiant. Sinful.

“You looked bored,” he says with a little smirk as he continues to let the vibrator run inside of you, “and we can’t have that… Perhaps I should turn it up.”

He twists a small knob on the remote and the vibrations steadily rise in frequency until they’re as high as they can go. A semblance of a scream escapes your lips behind the gag. You begin rocketing toward climax, but Hoseok knows you and your body too well. Just as you begin to feel the tingles spread over your body, he shuts it off, and your muscles immediately go lax from being tensed up and ready to come.

He laughs softly as you pant, and then takes a quick look around the room.

“You seem to have gathered some attention. That’s my good girl.”

Without another word, he pockets the remote, and you watch how his ringed fingers delicately pick up a flute of champagne from one of the server’s tray tables. Then he simply walks away. His immaculately shiny black shoes gently thud on the marble floor as he makes his way through the crowd, to presumably some other obscenely rich friend of his.

You feel a small amount of saliva about to peak over your bottom lip. You’ve been good about swallowing everything but it seems your denied orgasm has made you forgetful. Moments later, a small thread of your own spit runs out of your mouth and onto the floor. You know that you have been dripping from the other end too, and you wonder if any of the guests have just seen you drool on yourself.

As if to answer, Hoseok comes back from behind you and grabs you by the jaw. His face lights up when he confirms that you have made a mess of yourself. He turns to one of his guests and speaks.

“See, Namjoon?” he says, tilting your head up toward his guest so that he can see, “She’s incredible.”

You meet eyes with the guest, and put on your best innocent look. You love how a blush starts to creep up into his cheeks, and how his pillowy lips part slightly. Even though you’re bound from head to toe and easily the poorest person here, you feel like you’re the most powerful person in the room. The guest clears his throat and turns his attention back to Hoseok.

“How much was your price?” he asks.

Hoseok looks down at you, and a smirk begins to form on his plush lips.

“1,000 US Dollars. Per second,” he says, “Which charity will it be, then?”

You’d been the one to come up with the idea for the proceeds from the charity fundraiser to be benefitted by getting to control the vibrator. Hoseok loved it.

“Your education charity,” he says, “and I’ll take 30 seconds.”

Hoseok nods, “Do you want to go ahead and write the check now or do you want me to keep a tab running and let you know at the end of the evening?”

The tall man considers this, and looks back at you for a moment before answering, “keep it open, will you?”

“Alright, Mr. Kim. All yours,” Hoseok says as he fishes out the device from his suit pocket before turning to you, “Be good, you hear me? Don’t come until you have been given permission by either Mr. Kim or myself. Understood?”

You nod frantically as you watch the remote being transferred from Hoseok’s hands to Namjoon’s. The earlier flustered man turned more confident once he held the little black fob in his palm - quite a large palm now that you look at it closely. It would look so nice trailing up your thigh, you think. You look up at Namjoon and convey a pleading look, one that silently asks for mercy.

He does not give it.

With a small grin, he turns on the vibrator, and you scream (or try to) at the suddenness of the sensation. He spends his entire 30 seconds with the device in your pussy at full speed, and you can’t hold back your groaning. You clench around the bullet, and when his time is up, you feel beads of sweat starting to form on your brow from the exertion. You’re left a panting mess in front of him, Hoseok, and every other guest that has turned to watch you squirm.

Namjoon’s satisfied smile and nod encourages others in the room to have a turn. Before long, you see a few more guests make their way over to where you are hanging. This time it is a group of women.

“Hye-jin!” Namjoon exclaims, before he hugs the woman and offers a short to the three others that come over with her. She’s dressed in the most beautiful black form fitting dress you’ve ever seen. Her hourglass figure sways captivatingly in the gown, and you’re momentarily mesmerized by her figure. You look up at her and she’s smirking down at you; you were too distracted at the way the large jewels on her necklace fell over her collarbones to realize that they were already discussing you.

“I should have known it would be you to break the ice,” she says playfully to Namjoon, who just presses his lips together in resignation as he puts his hand to the back of his neck.

“How’s the comeback?” he asks casually, as if there isn’t a fully naked and exposed woman suspended in front of him. His ability to be so casual while you’re at the edge of your sanity shoots a ping of arousal through your body. You shiver slightly, and you catch Hoseok looking at you out of the corner of his eyes. He’d never admit it, but he cares about you a lot. You can tell he’s checking to make sure you aren’t getting ready to start snapping your fingers- the safe action you’d both agreed on to release you from the ropes and send you into his master suite. Even when he had walked over to find Namjoon, you know even then he wasn’t out of sight or earshot from you.

He had a clean and plush robe stowed away in the closet nearby, and was always ready to release you should you want to be. You’d worked together before the event to set up a space in his suite to go should you need to retire for the evening, and you caught him setting a hoodie of his on the side of the bed where you typically sleep. You’d always playfully taken them, either to flirt or to wear it (and only it) to encourage a round two. But he had never deliberately set one of them aside for your use. He knows you won’t be using it to flirt or to rouse him into more sex, so his little efforts to bring you as much comfort as possible had set alight something in your heart.

He really did take pride in taking good care of you. As a good sugar daddy should.

You’re yanked back to reality when the vibrator starts up again. You clench around it and feel a gush of wetness surge out at the sensation of it going at full blast. Just when you become used to the speed and lower your whining, you open your eyes to see the woman holding the remote this time, grinning down at you with full lips. She meets your gaze and turns it up all the way, which makes you tense up every last one of your muscles. The woman next to her with long, light hair and a wicked gaze, whispers something to her while eyeing you up and down. It then occurs to you that you weren’t paying attention and don’t know how much time she purchased.

As the seconds tick by, they feel like hours. With the device at full speed, you feel yourself closing in on a climax, and so you squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself for the orgasm that is about to rip through your body…

She turns it down to the lowest setting and watches as you groan at the second denial crushes you. More saliva drips down your chin as she switches it off, leaving you with only the beads of sweat that cling to your skin.

“Thank you, Hoseok. Worth every penny,” Hye-jin says, handing the remote back to him.

Hoseok beams his thousand-watt smile at her, and congratulates her on both the success of Maria, her solo album, and then thanks her for her donation.

She thanks him in return, and both women walk back into the crowd. Namjoon has also gone, which just leaves you with Hoseok again. His eyes meet yours for a moment, and you see a fire in them that you’ve never seen before. You’re dangling about waist height, and you can’t help but to look down from his face to try to see if you can make out a bulge. You don’t get time to really look, because as soon as you break eye contact, he moves to your back and smacks your ass cheek hard. A loud thwack echoes throughout the large space, over the din of the partygoers. You inhale sharply at the sting, and let your breath back out in a long groan, drawing the attention of more guests. You knew that the champagne would loosen inhibitions eventually.

You hear the footsteps of a couple other guests walking toward you from behind where Hoseok stands. You crane your head to try to see over your shoulder, but they stand just out of your peripheral vision. They’re talking in low voices, and you can’t make out what they’re saying. You wish you could swing yourself around and look at them, but knowing that the only thing they can see of you is your dripping cunt, you’re not so mad.

You feel a hand on your thigh, a touch you’re familiar with. You know it’s Hoseok’s hand, as he gently trails up your inner thigh, purposefully teasing you. An involuntary shiver runs through your body and you can’t help but to whimper slightly. You hear a man’s chuckle, and then he’s speaking, again too low for you to hear.

Hoseok uses his grip on your inner thigh to spin you around so that you’re facing the group of men. Namjoon has come back, this time with what appears to be a friend in tow.

“Baby girl,” Hoseok’s voice says gently, and you look up to meet his gaze, “Yoongi here has just asked if he may touch you.” Your eyes widen at the thought, remembering how just Hoseok’s hand trailing up your thigh had your toes curling. You look up at the new guest, and see only a cold and stone-like expression. His eyes seem to bore right through you, and directly into your cunt. You’re momentarily mesmerized under his heavy stare, before you slowly nod your head.

“Yoongi here has just generously donated one million dollars to one of my charities, so do you know what that means?” he asks you, not expecting an answer, “How long is one thousand seconds?”

“Sixteen minutes and 40 seconds,” Yoongi says, not breaking eye contact from you, “If I’m correct.”

If your mouth could drop, it would. Namjoon, looking up from his phone, just nods nonchalantly.

Hoseok asks the man what he has asked everyone else: if they would like to keep a running tab or if they would like to write a check now. Yoongi reaches into his back pocket and pulls out what you assume to be his checkbook. With rings glittering in the lighting of the room, his hand swiftly fills it out. He rips it out and extends it to Hoseok.

“I won’t be needing more time.”

His cool confidence in saying this small phrase makes your stomach drop.

Hoseok grips your chin and tilts your head up. “Remember, baby girl, don’t come until you’re told to. You want to be on your best behavior for Mr. Min. Trust me.”

He speaks sternly and then releases your jaw, trailing his hand back to stroke your messy hair, before settling on your two hands secured behind your back and giving them a light squeeze. A silent reminder of your out, should you need it.

This Yoongi must be… a force to be reckoned with.

“Your time starts now,” Hoseok says, tapping his phone screen. You squeeze shut your eyes and brace yourself for the abrupt shock of the vibrations, but seconds pass, and they don’t come. You gingerly open your eyes and look up at the man standing above you, toying with the remote. He regards it with vague interest, and then he flicks up his eyes to look at you. Your heart stops for a moment, as he begins to rake his onyx eyes over your body. He purses his lips slightly and begins walking around you, all too slowly.

Even though he has disappeared from your view, you can feel his eyes on you. Your anxiousness grows as he remains out of your sight longer, and this is no doubt intentional. It seems as if he picked up your unease earlier when he first approached.

This guy is good.

You’re so on edge, that the light vibrations that begin in your cunt still surprise you. He turned the vibrator on to its lowest setting, but these low and slow vibrations still make you have a sharp intake of breath. He finally arrives back to your front and seems pleased at your reaction. He squats down so that his face is level with yours.

“What a good girl you are,” he muses, lips parted, tongue playing with the inside of his cheek, “I hope Hoseok here treats you well. You seem… pent up.”

At those last two words, he revs up the vibrations slightly, causing you to let out a small moan. He stands and puts the remote in his pocket. You watch as he gently rolls up his sleeves to the elbow, his forearm flexing as he fixes them. Your hungry stare betrays you.

“Is she always like this?” he asks Hoseok, almost laughing at you. “God, she’s desperate.” He looks at you. “Does Hobi not fuck you enough, little girl?”

Your eyes widen at the implications, and you furiously shake your head no, trying to convey as much as you can with your eyes alone. He just chuckles.

“Loyal,” he says, “I like that.” He looks back up at Hoseok. “Is your agreement exclusive, or is there room in her life for a second... benefactor?” You look up at your sugar daddy, eyes wide with what he might say. He’s just standing there, arms folded over his chest, as if he were discussing the weather or the stock market.

“I’m afraid she’s all booked up for the foreseeable future, unfortunately,” he says cooly but firmly, a little bit of edge to his voice.

“Pity,” Yoongi says, taking a step toward you, “I could think of a million good ways to take up her time.”

“You’ve got 14 minutes left,” is all Hoseok says in response, a definite sharpness to his tone. You’ve only heard this type of voice from him when you’re being particularly bratty. You rarely hear him this stern.

The vibrations quicken slightly, and you can tell from your frequent use that the device is at about its medium speed.

Yoongi takes his hand and reaches out to your back, and with a featherlight touch, begins to trace next to where the ropes lie. He keeps working down your back, and gently trails down your bare ass cheek and ghosts against your pussy. You can feel the heat from his hand, impossibly close to touching you. You hold your head back and try to look at him as you whine out a plea.

“Eyes straight ahead, little girl,” he says, and you comply reluctantly, flopping your head forward dramatically as you sigh. His hand grabs hold of your thigh, and squeezes it so hard you’re sure you’ll find a bruise there in the morning. “And lose the attitude.”

You whimper as he releases your thigh, and goes back to delicately running his fingertips up to your core. He stops just short of your cunt, and you desperately want him to just touch you. You flex your back and buck your hips in order to push yourself onto where you know his hand is. Your clit makes contact with his hand, and as soon as you feel it connect, you feel it missing. Not even a moment later, a sharp sting spreads across your ass, and you clench around the vibe.

“What a greedy little slut you are. Do you always misbehave this much?”

You turn your head back to look at him, and as you meet his eyes, you can see he begins to fume.

“Namjoon, keep her head straight. Someone's not listening.”

You turn your head back around and Namjoon is quickly grabbing your jaw firmly in his hand. Your eyes meet his, and his earlier show of no mercy seems to still be intact. You feel Yoongi’s hand soothe the soreness he just created, only to once again reel back and give the same spot another firm smack, just as hard as the first one.

You cry into the ball gag and the shockwave from his hit sends you slightly swinging forward into Namjoon’s belt. Even though the vibrator is only at medium speed, you feel yourself beginning to get close to a climax. Your moans get longer and higher, and your body tenses to prepare for it. You hear Yoongi behind you.

“Don’t.”

You know exactly what he means. You focus on your breathing and furrow your brow in an attempt to stave off your orgasm. It’s working, but barely. He turns up the vibrations and you cry out again, your head shaking as much as Namjoon’s firm grip will allow.

“Don’t.”

You distance yourself from the situation, distracting yourself with thinking about schoolwork. The essay you’re currently writing. How the rough draft needs to be done by tomorrow night. You need three more in-text citations to make --

His hand is against your clit, and he’s rubbing at an agonizingly slow pace, with just enough pressure for you to want more. You inhale sharply and work harder to distract yourself.

You have two of the quotes picked out, but you need to finalize the third one to really hammer in your point. Maybe you can spend tomorrow morning reading --

His lips graze over the ass cheek he tortured earlier, your smarting skin responding sharply to the gentle contact. He gives you a soft kiss, and then you feel a sharp pain as he sinks his teeth into your already ruined ass.

Your eyes fly open and you make desperate eye contact with Namjoon, trying to show him that you can’t last much longer. Thankfully, this Namjoon is a perceptive man, and he looks from you to Yoongi.

“She can’t take much more, Yoongi.”

“Good,” he says, breath grazing over where he just bit as he speaks. “Come, slut.”

For the first time tonight, your orgasm peaks and rips out of you. Your whole body trembles with the sensation, and you feel his pressure on your clit increase to see you through. The orgasm is hard, and long, and it leaves you with tears streaming down your cheeks, mascara running wildly. You’re coming down slowly, and you feel his hand pull away. Before you realize it, he is standing in front of you again. Namjoon releases you, and your head hangs lifelessly as you pant.

Yoongi stands directly in front of you again, and you find yourself staring at his expensive shoes. You’re completely spent. Post orgasm bliss spreads throughout your muscles, and then, a slight discomfort. You realize what it is: the vibrator is still going.

You squirm lazily and whine at the sensation, it being too much. Yoongi squats down and gently lifts up your head by the chin. Your exhausted eyes meet his, and he clicks his tongue.

“Aw, are you all sensitive now?” he asks gently, in an almost patronizing tone. You don’t care. You nod sleepily.

“Is the vibrator too much, little girl?” You nod once more, eyes fluttering shut.

“Then use your safeword gesture,” he says, almost as if it’s a dare. "Go on. Snap."

If he’s not done with you, then you’re not done. You open your eyes and look directly at him as if to say “challenged accepted.”

Without moving his eyes from yours, he cranks up the vibrations until you’re whimpering again.

“Six more minutes,” you hear Hoseok say from beside you.

“Plenty of time,” Yoongi replies without skipping a beat. “I think we can get three more in. One every two minutes? Surely a slut like you will have no problem with that, since you wanted to come so badly earlier.”

You groan at the ache in your cunt, and at the slight displeasure the vibrator is causing. Yoongi stands again and walks back behind you, and this time you know better than to move your head to look.

Soon the vibrations begin to feel pleasurable again, and you’re having a hard time keeping your moans quiet.

“Atta girl,” you hear Yoongi say from behind you, “Your next one’s already coming isn’t it? You greedy little thing. You’re going to ruin Hoseok’s nice floors with your slick. And in front of all these people?”

Just like that, you’re reminded that you have an audience. Quite a large one. You open your eyes to see just about every guest’s gaze glued to your straining form. The heat bubbles in your abdomen as your next climax rushes toward you.

“You may come again,” is all Yoongi says as you’re thrown off the edge again. As soon as you begin to recover from this one, he ups the vibrator to full speed. You scream into the ball gag at the overstimulation, and cry out as tears spill out of your eyes. It’s entirely too much, but you love it. Before you realize it, another orgasm rips through your body, almost as if it were a continuation of the last one.

He doesn’t miss this though, and spreads your ass cheeks apart so he can get a better view. At this point, you’re not sure if you can do another one. You feel as though you might pass out if you come again. But the overstimulation is so overwhelming that you can only think of reaching one more high. You tense your entire body and try to get another one, but your muscles are so spent that you can’t stay tense for long. After a few more tries, you just sigh and hang limply, your limbs heavy and tired. You hang on the edge of climax, being able to see the other side, but not being able to go there.

Mascara tears stain your cheeks from exertion, and you are well and truly spent. You give up.

But you don’t snap your fingers.

Yoongi fastens his lips over your aching clit, and sucks. Just like that, you feel your orgasm building again so you clench, desperately trying to claim it; this time, you reach it.

It tears through you like a slow strike of lightning. You feel yourself shaking as it takes its time fracturing within you. It grows white hot in your belly, and it’s as if every cell in your body has been burned alive. All of the energy you have left is spent thrashing in the ecstasy of your orgasm, and for a few seconds, you know nothing else but the pleasure.

You find yourself deep in subspace, practically dead to the world. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes. You barely register Hoseok as he begins untying the ropes around your hands, getting assistance from both Namjoon and Yoongi. You feel his hands as he releases your ball gag and caresses your face as he asks if you’re okay. You give the tiniest nod, and he wraps your limp form tightly in his arms as the two men finish unwrapping your legs. He swoops down and sweeps your legs up to carry you bridal style away from the party.

The next thing you know is the soft and cool silk of his sheets enveloping you as he lays you down. You exist there for a time, every nerve ending in your body tingling as you drift off.

You wake some time later to hear quiet chatting. You inhale and breathe in the musky scent of Hoseok’s favorite cologne. You find yourself curled around the hoodie he left for you. As you slowly open your eyes, you can just make out the time on the nightstand clock. It’s almost 3 AM; the fundraiser had to have ended over four hours ago. You breathe slowly and close your eyes again so you can focus on the voices in the room.

You hear Hoseok straight away; his tone is forever instantly familiar to you. The way his normal speaking rhythm is a little sloppy with alcohol. In reply is a voice you more recently became acquainted with. The voice who you last heard giving you permission to come. It’s a little bit more rough now, a Daegu accent slipping out in his intoxication. The third one takes you by surprise. A low and calm voice. Lower than you’d ever suspected possible, from hearing him speak this evening. Even still, Namjoon’s even tone is a rumble you can make out.

You sit up slowly, not wanting the blood to rush to your head. You were sleeping hard. Your dry mouth guarantees that. At your movement, the three men stop their talking and look over at you. Hoseok is the first to set down his glass and walk over to you. His black tie is gone and so is his jacket. His collar is wide open, showing off his tanned chest behind the many unfastened buttons. He gets on his knees next to the bed and reaches for your hands. Once he finds them, his brow is creased with worry, as he brings your hands up to his lips.

“Are you alright, baby girl?” he asks into your hands. You still have the weight of sleep over you, so you don’t respond right away.

“She had her gesture, Hoseok. She could have used it,” you hear Yoongi say, and you look in his direction. He sits with his legs spread, glass of whiskey hanging off of his fingers. Your eyes meet, and even though he’s trying to seem impertinent and uncaring, there’s a tinge of worry and guilt in his eyes. You glance to Namjoon and see that his worry is more plainly stated.

Hoseok caresses your cheek and turns you back to facing him. His eyes plead for an answer. So you give it.

“Yes,” you say, voice raspy, “I’m alright. I feel great, actually.” Hoseok visibly relaxes and you hear Yoongi across the room mutter an “I told you so” to Namjoon.

“He didn’t push you too hard?” Hoseok asks.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you reply smugly, meeting Yoongi’s eyes, “But he did well and truly wear me out... Clearly."

You chuckle as Hoseok covers your hands in a million tiny kisses.

“Perhaps I do need to step my game up,” he teases, “I’ve never seen you so fucked out.”

“Nothing a good nap can’t fix,” you tease back. He smiles up at you, and you once again get lost in his brightness and warmth. “Mind if I join you all for a drink?”

“Of course not, baby girl,” Hoseok says, “I’ll go get your robe--”

“Don’t bother,” you say, wiggling into his hoodie and pulling the hood up and over your hair, “but you can go get me a glass.”

#bts smut #hoseok smut #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #yoongi x you #hoseok x you #namjoon x you #xmint-conditionx

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honoredbastard · 3 years

Text

such pretty tears, baby boy ♡

“does this get you off?” “MGH! y/n please-” “ah ah ah-”

✻ ˒ ໍ CHARACTERS ♡ bonten!mikey, bonten!rindou haitani and sadist gn!reader. all above the age of 20. they’re all timeskipped.

✻ ˒ ໍ CONTENT/KINKS ♡ NSFW, EDGING, TYING, OVERSTIMULATION, Y/N BEING A soft SADIST-(?) MASOCHISTS, BOTTOM, BOYS, GIVE NO REICIVE. drug/addiction mention(s). MENTIONS OF PET PLAY.

✻ ˒ ໍ A/N ♡ Y’ALL SADISTIC GN!READER HAS ME BY THE NECK-. i don’t know how to write rindou nor smut well FORGIVE ME GODS OF SMUT- it’s just a little drabble thingy ma jig that really couldn’t be kept in my drafts for too long- manga spoilers? draken will be next time? also toy/gear mentions.

:: ִֶָ MANJIRO “MIKEY” SANO 𓂅

sex with mikey was usually nice, lazy, and quiet. on other days he’d devour your body like a starving man, but in reality he was a little on the frustrated side. sexually. at times he’d be away for business purposes as he’d tell you and leave sanzu or rindou to be your bodyguard. as for rindou you appreciated his company, he didn’t talk to you much but the times you’d cook for him ( he loves your cooking, bad or not this man will devour it in full. so will ran, ran is just all smiles and eating. burnt food? doesn’t bother him. ) and/or just a small conversation was enough for you to smile. although sanzu was a different story, the top trusted bonten members and mikey all shared a loft, including you. so it didn’t take a lot of time to understand sanzu’s.... addiction.

it didn’t bother you much but whenever you came out of your shared room with mikey, he’d stare. just stare at you calmly, sword or gun in hand. sometimes he mistook you for his s/o, other times he was too high to think straight and was sprawled out on the couch. half of his body melting into the floor. you wondered how he could do that comfortably.

but that didn’t matter anymore, mikey was arriving home soon and you snuck around to grab some things around the house. a rope (thank you high sanzu for complying and ordering one), a ball gag, a small paddle that shouldn’t hurt too much, and a blindfold. all things you ordered off the internet after studying in secret for weeks.

when you were alone, lonely, and sexually frustrated you stumbled across bdsm and kinks. of course mikey had kinks and interests that he’d expressed to you which you happily indulged in them. ( his spanks hurt, but they make mikey’s hips thrusting against you afterwards 10x better. ) at the time you just believed you were a maso with a bratty side and mikey had to many kinks to list that left you both in undying pleasure.

all until you were alone all over again, sanzu drunk and on whatever drug he smoked or popped this time. you were free to do as you want. a little on the dangerous side when your boredom stretched for hours on end when sanzu was sober enough to recognize your sneaking presence. at times he’d play along and sneak up behind you ( he’s too good at this when he has his sanity tbh ) and whisper in your ear “what are we hunting this time?” “OH FUCK!!” you’d scream and on reflex threw a fist at the man, who’s arms blocked his face and your fist. “sanzu!” you groaned, heart thumping against your chest like a race horse.

“i’m sorry.” you voice strained, scared that you fucked up this last time with sanzu and he was tired of it. “it’s fine, it’s fine. i’m the one who scared you. sooo... whatcha sneakin’ about for?” he grinned, leaning closer to your face. his eyes felt like he could see your lies before you’d come up with one, so you just told the truth.... parts of it at least. “i didn’t want to wake you and i got ordered stuff that i wanted to use online and i was gonna go get it!”

sanzu’s face that was inches apart from yours leaned away, he smiled politely before trotting back to the couch. “all good, just wanted to make sure boss’ partner wasn’t meetin’ other gang members. y’know?” his body practically melted into the couch, eyes flicking between you and the t.v before getting comfortable. “you know i would never, sanzu!” you grinned, he shrugged, eyes already half-lidded.

yup, he was about as stable as a dizzy ram for a few minutes there. you sighed and marched your way to outside where two small boxes were stacked above a bigger box. those were all toys- anal beads, a small paddle, dildos. you name it, you ordered it. you could already fantasize it- mikey under your touch, tied to a chair with every. single. part of him.... exposed. your body felt a shock through it, biting your lip to remain calm but it was hard for your ideas to settle.

you could already feel a knot building in your stomach that you had to get out badly. mikey would be a couple hours right? when you arrived to your shared space with mikey, you put the boxes in the closet and searched for something of his. something that smelled of him, that made you tingle in all the right places. you found a familiar black shirt so you took it, plopped onto the bed and held it in one hand while the other went to town on yourself. you began losing your mind from the pleasure as you started edging yourself - falling into a fantasy of your own.

mikey body was wearing ropes like clothes, you were staring him down with a smug smirk. eyes slow and attentive, it made mikey twitch when he watched. toes curled when you licked your lips, biting down on your cheek to stop you from devouring him right there. no no no, you had to have your fun. you inched closer to him, eyes never leaving his.

the man unable to speak was bontens number one, his life was right there for you to hold in your palms. you were aware of this, but you treated him like he was another civilian. he, of course, allowed you to. your hands brushed his untouched cock that was dripping with precum, “excited already?” you asked, licking the pent up contents.

mikey, who was gagged, nodded quickly before your warm tongue dragged itself from his base to his already flushed tip. playing with the slit for your own amusement while he tried to buck his hips to no avail. you were aware he’d try to get himself into your mouth, lure you into his trap where he has his way with you and not the other way around.

“ah-ah-ah.” you shook a finger at him, a teasing yet playful tone, your hand wrapped itself around his veiny shaft, slowly but surely raising the speed with each bite you placed on his pale thighs. he twitched and squirmed as he neared his release till you slowed down at the peak moment. you could hear his frustration through his muffled pants and whimpers. your fingers rubbed back and forth across his slit before placing a thumb there.

you looked up at mikey who’s cheeks were redder than a tomato, you kept looking while your mouth neared his inner thighs. you placed hickeys, ran a nail from the inside his hip down his thigh which made him squirm more. his skin flinched at the odd feeling, then you did it with his cock.

that sent him into an odd feeling of pleasure that made his toes curled, breath hitch, and eyes squeeze shut. raising yourself from the ground, you sat onto his lap with open legs for taunting him. “should i remove that ballgag? hmm?” you questioned, blowing into his ear before biting at the lobe. “so sanzu can hear your pleasure as i play with you to my heart content?” you licked behind his ear, his head jerked back slightly - free rain to kiss up and down his neck.

“i’m not letting you cum till you cry for me.. slut.” you clicked in his ear, he shivered at your dominance over him.

I’M GOING TO HELL FOR THIS ONE EVEN IF IT’S SHITTY LMFAO-

:: ִֶָ RINDOU HAITANI 𓂅

sex with rindou was about a mix of everything. it was like those ‘god making me’ tiktoks you’d stumble upon every-so often from your pure boredom. at times you were allowed to go to bonten meetings and overs you weren’t. ( rindou is keen on protecting you from the heavy shit he sees too often. especially if those meetings are fucked up. ) so when you weren’t either someone who was already informed like koko or ran which rindou trusted more than anyone to watch over you, to be your bodyguard.

the problem was, rindou didn’t touch you in the places that craved being touched. your bottom half was aching to feel his hands again, to become red, fading into purple and blues. aching afterwards but getting the best aftercare, you were treated like royalty after you let rindou have his way with you. you even missed his breeding kink that would never end and left you in a shaking mess.

yet although all the offers and signals you threw at him, he brushed you off. now this was getting on your nerves. very much on your nerves. so you set up a plan: overstim and edge your boyfriend beyond compare. you’d give him the best aftercare for a price. you were going to have your way with him, of course you’ll ask for consent and walk him through what you’d do to him. but after that the power exchange was all yours.

you’d both mutually set up on a safe word and if either of you couldn’t speak properly you set up a safe signal. rindou was invested in bdsm and you too, became invested into it. which may have flipped your sadist switch. the idea was to tie rin up or to a chair. you had plenty of gear ( both pet and non pet play ) and way too many restraining gear. which excited you of all the things you could do.

although you knew one thing for sure. you were going to play with his cock till it ached and tears were burning into his cheeks while you tried your way at humiliating him. he’d done this to you many times, restrained you, made your nipples harder than him. it was everything.

when you peered out of your room you saw ran sitting at the dinner table concentrating at something. “should i pester him?” you questioned aloud in a hushed voice, “hm? oh is that you, y/n?” “yes?!” you felt like you got caught, your voice was high pitched and confused which made ran laugh. “at ease, come on over here.” following his orders like a dog, you stumbled your way over to ran awkwardly.

you stared at the cards in awe, “are you playing by yourself?” “actually yes i am! would you like to play with me?” “sure!” you sat time with a smile, yyou seemed focused but your mind was somewhere else. far far away from the ground, it all played out with rindou’s loud moans and occassional grunts as your hand slid down his length. eyes flicking to him than the thing you were working so well for - applying your mouth soon after. though rindou failed your plans for his edging, you still went to town as he filled your mouth, riding his orgasim while you kept going. the pleasure becoming painful but it felt oh-so.... good.

thanks for reading! <3 it was horrible but fun to write 10/10. rindou’s part sucked everything that i had worked on was deleted and i’m still pissed so it’s not great, thank you!

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kim-miyeon · 3 years

Text

ONE

Pairings: Lee Felix x Female Reader

Genre: VictorianAU!

WARNINGS: 18+, marriage, adultery, (Warnings vary on chapter.)

Word Count: 4.1K

m.list | prologue | two

London, 1963

The sound of the magazine pages flipping slowly and the static of the small radio playing “Sally Go ‘round the Roses” was all that could be made out in the moment as the two girls laid in the bed opposite each other.

“I’m bored Susan!” Margaret moaned and threw a pillow at Susan’s head as Susan turned and scoffed.

“Margaret quit it! You almost ruined my Beatles magazine!” Susan grabbed the pillow and threw it back to Margaret who huffed.

Susan returned to flipping through the magazine as Margaret began to stare at the ceiling, pondering on what activities the two teenage girls should do on their Tuesday afternoon.

It was the beginning of their winter festivities. School had been out for not only a few days but Margaret and Susan were inseparable. Having been best pals since birth, the two had spent many hours laughing and crying and being incredibly mischievous as well. Which brought Margaret to her brilliant idea.

“Let’s go to your grandmother’s library.” Margaret sat up quickly as Susan turned to her friend in disbelief.

“You must have gone mad.” Susan responded, in any manner but excited at the idea. “You know we are not allowed there.”

“And why not? Because it is your grandmother’s wing of the home? She will never know this house is so incredibly large, how would anyone know?” Margaret cocked her eyebrow and Susan bit her lip.

A more luxurious life of those in the upper class. That’s the world that Susan was born in. Born into a family that had wealth and status, Susan had been exposed to every part of luxury. She lived in a comfortable home and it was large enough to house many people, which her mother always utilized for their large gatherings. But she knew ever since she was young that her grandmother’s library was a place that she was not allowed in alone. Her grandmother cherished her collection of books and always wanted to preserve them. But as much as Susan wanted to say no, the seventeen years of curiosity of what lied behind the doors of her grandmother’s den could not hold her back. Especially being one who cherished books and fairytales, what could be behind those doors would lead Susan into a world she always dreamt of.

“Come on Susan, your mother is out and your grandmother is taking a nap, they won’t know!” Margaret persuaded and Susan groaned.

“Fine.” Susan threw her legs over the side of the bed as Margaret shot up

Susan and Margaret walked down the hallways of the large home, cocking their necks at every turn to be sure no no one knew of their whereabouts. The home felt so empty with each passing corridor, and the tall windows had their curtains drawn to keep the winter air away. The two girls turned the corner of the hallway to enter Susan’s grandmother’s wing of the home. Almost immediately could one see the large Kona dark wooden doors that led to a world unknown. Susan halted in her tracks and Margaret looked back as she had stepped ahead.

“Are you okay? Do you want to head back?” Margaret asked and Susan shook her head. Both girls could feel the error in their choices to be here.

“I am just nervous, my heart is pounding in my ears.” Susan laughed unconfidently and Margaret sighed, trying to stay with the plan.

“It is a library, not a death chamber.” Margaret grabbed on to Susan’s hand and pulled her friend towards the large dark stained wooden doors. As they approached the library, Margaret outstretched her hand to the door handle and pushed her hand down to open only to find a sturdy opposing force.

“It’s locked!” Margaret groaned and Susan looked at her friend who was upset about the failed mission. But then fear ran through her veins when she heard the sound of a far too familiar snicker behind her.

“Of course it’s locked, dear…” Susan and Margaret turned around to find the owner of the voice, “I wouldn’t leave my library open when I am not present. I may be old, but I am no fool.”

“Grandmother!” Susan exclaimed nervously to the elder woman, “I thought you were taking your afternoon nap!”

“The universe has a funny way of working, doesn’t it girls?” Susan’s grandmother spoke and walked further to the girls, holding keys in her hand.

“We weren’t meaning to be sneaky Grandmother, we were only curious.” Margaret spoke and Susan’s grandmother chuckled.

“I suppose young girls' curiosities get the best of them.” Margaret watched as Susan’s grandmother took the key to the library and inserted it into the lock. “I suppose it is time to share a bit of my world with you.”

Susan and Margaret watched as Susan’s grandmother pushed open the door, and the enchantment of how beautiful the library was struck the two girls. A scale so grand and modern. Books high up and two levels that overlooked below where a small dark wooden desk sat. Loose paper scattered across the desk with dull pencils nearby. Susan thought about the many days and almost nights her grandmother spent in her library and what on earth she must be studying.

The three ladies walked further into the library and Margaret gasped in awe.

“It’s so beautiful here.” Margaret sighed and Grandmother began to chuckle.

“It’s my life’s work in one place, a sacred thing. Something two mischievous girls should not be around.” Grandmother smiled at the girls who smiled back.

As the women slowly stepped further into the room, Susan’s gaze never retracted from the busy desk. Her eyes locked in on a very rubbish looking journal that sat open. Margaret and Grandmother carried on their conversation as Susan drifted off to the desk. She rounded the edges and dragged her fingertips along the dusty wood. Tilting her head to look at the journal clearly she saw a damaged old photograph of a young boy. Susan reached out to grab the small photograph and bring it closer to her eyes. He was standing not too far from the camera, it was hard to see the background but one thing that was clear was his smile. He had a beautiful almost breathtaking smile, it stole Susan’s breath for a mere minute. His hair, laying across his face, made it unable to see his eyes. But Susan could tell he was a gorgeous man.

“Grandmother,” Susan called out and looked at the photo one last time before she turned her attention to Margaret and her Grandmother, “who is this boy?”

“Oh.” Grandmother’s voice hinted of sadness when she saw the photo, “his name is Felix. A young lad from many years ago.”

Grandmother walked closer to Susan and Susan looked down at the journal that had been opened.

“Was he your friend?” Susan asked as she scanned over the words that were written in the journal.

Grandmother stood next to Susan and she sighed as Susan looked back at her grandmother.

“He was not.”

“Then why do you have a photo of this boy? Who’s journal is this?” Susan carried on in her curious mind as her Grandmother began to sigh as Margaret walked over to Susan to look at the photo of the boy.

“Inviting you into this room comes with the responsibility of telling you stories of years far before you.”

“A love story?” Margaret asked simply and Susan looked at the journal that was lying on the desk. Tracing her fingers over it.

“The journal belonged to a young maiden, who lived in this very home years ago.”

“Tell us about her.” Susan reached over her grandmother’s hand and her grandmother sat in the chair at the desk as the two other girls sat on the floor staring up at Grandmother.

London, 1898

The streaks of the sun splashed on the skin, as you laughed. Picking your feet up and trying not to tumble in the large field as you two ran. Your vision, covered in the hues of green and yellow, matching the weeds on the ground and as you look down you saw a hand in yours. Gripping you in the most odd mixture of gentle and security, wanting you to be free and yet holding you near. His hand was the softest, skin almost an illusion for there were no imperfections. At the edge of his wrists sat the ruffles of his shirt, white and stained with dirt and sweat. You trailed your glass beaded eyes up the clothes arm that is pulling you into the fields. Once you came to the collar of his neck you admired the length of his blonde locks as they rested near his shoulder, blowing softly in the air. You heard his faint deep chuckle and he turned softly to the side to take a glimpse of you. You saw his eyes connect with yours, feeling the intense spark fuel you and almost stole your breath. If this was love, you never wanted anything less.

If this.. was..

The deep rich smell of smoke ran through your nostrils as you fluttered your eyes open to the small lit candle resting on your night stand. The sharp light of the morning sun struck the room as Adelaide, your maiden, drew the curtains for you.

“Good morning Milady” Adelaide spoke cheerfully as she pulled in the window to lock. You peeped at her and smiled as you rose up and yawned.

Your day typically always began at 7:30am. Adelaide was no stranger to being on time, especially during weeks like this.

“Good morning Adelaide. How did you rest?” You asked as Adelaide grabbed a pitcher of water and walked over to your bedside where a large bowl had been placed. Rosemary leaves had been placed at the bottom and you watched Adelaide pour the hot water over, feeling the steam hit your face and sighed in pleasure.

“I rested well, thank you. Did you sleep well with everything going on?”

Adelaide walked behind you and went to grab the toothbrush and can of homemade soap and sat it down near the bathing rack.

“I tried at least.” You mumbled as you watched Adelaide keep moving to finish her morning duties.

“It isn’t an easy week I suppose. I will go and fetch your cup of tea this morning while I let you freshen up on your own.” Adelaide smiled at you as she made her way out your door and you went back to freshen up.

You grabbed the towel and soaked in it the water as you felt the warmth of the water relax you. Squeezing the excess water off the towel, you pulled the sleeve of your undergarment and wiped the skin.

Adelaide’s reminder of what this week meant for you was excruciating. For the past five years you had known this day would eventually come, but you had always hoped that if you had believed hard enough, it would never come. Time could pause and you could live happily.

You grabbed your hair and bent down to lay it in the water as you coated your hair in the warm liquid. You heard Adelaide’s footsteps approaching the door and you squeezed the water off your hair.

“Your mother is awake.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance “Lovely. How does she seem?”

“Refreshed.” Adelaide shook her head in a sad way to you.

You turned to her quickly, “Is it too late to run away? You wouldn’t say anything, would you?”

“You know I wouldn’t.” Adelaide grabbed your hands, squeezing them.

“Where to run is the issue.” You sighed and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“Would you run to the states?”

“It would be fun. Imagine working and making my own money. Choosing my own life. Anything would be a more rewarding life than this. To be brought up to wed and bear children? To have a mind for everyone else besides your own?” You went on as you fumbled with your fingers as Adelaide began to help you stand to dress. Slipping your garments off as she helped you step into your gown.

“It’s the idea of feeling free, to do what I want, not what others want of me.” You continued as Adelaide turned you around and pulled the strings of your corset.

“To bear a day where I dress myself” You mumbled to yourself and Adelaide puked in the strings tighter making you yelp as she laughed.

“Are you stating that you do not want me to dress you?” She smiled and you sighed as she finished.

“It is your job to do so, but you were created for more do you not think?” You turned around to face Adelaide and she shrugged a bit.

“I suppose. I enjoy my job and I have a place to sleep and eat.” She softly said and you bit your lip in agreement.

“I will head down while I give you time to awake.” She smiled and began to head for the door.

“Thank you Adelaide.” You smiled as you turned to the mirror.

“My lady” you heard Adelaide call out one more time.

“Yes? “

“I know this is a difficult week and things may not be the way you want them to, but know that I will always be by your side, as you are for me.”

With that Adelaide left you to be alone in the room. Her words made you sad and yet filled with content. Marriage wasn’t a plan you had set yourself up for. It wasn’t something you wanted. You craved the feeling of being loved by someone not because of status and wealth, but because they say you and all your flaws. But you held a responsibility as the eldest, as your father’s daughter, to do what is necessary for the family and for your country.

But your mind drifted back to your dream. The boy. A man so unfamiliar but you felt as if you’d known him for years. Your heart ached feeling like you had fallen for an image of a man, created by your mind. But it felt real, he felt so real to you.

A knock at the door brought you back to reality as you cleared your throat. “Come in!”

“Milady, your mother is requesting you for breakfast.” Adelaide peeked in as you looked at her and nodded in understanding.

As the door shut you turned to the mirror and took a deep breath in.

“Be strong, Y/N.”

The halls of the home were long and made one weary as they strolled down. Your heart panicked with the unwanted anticipation that waited beyond the doors to the dining room. You could smell the aroma of the feast that called for you, already knowing that your mother has planned a rather larger gathering than you were expecting. Closer and closer as you approached you heard the laughter of people you knew the sounds of and once you reached the door that was guarded by your family's security men, you saw the faces of those you wished to not see.

“OH! My darling! The bride to be, you look marvelous this morning! Just GLOWING!” Your mother exclaimed and wrapped her arms around you squeezing you tightly in a hug.

“Good..morning.. mama..” you tried to choked out as you were wrapped in her tight embrace. She pulled back and tidied up your dress and hair.

“Beautiful as ever.” She smiled and you half smiled back before you noticed your father and your future in laws chatting a bit behind.

“Father, Sir Thomas and Mrs. Thomas, what a lovely surprise. I was not aware you would be joining us this morning.” You courtesy politely to them.

“Oh dear please, call me Lois.” Mrs. Thomas outstretched her hand to you, waving to tell you to stop your courtesy. You lifted your gaze to your future in laws and then to your father who was smiling at you in a sense of pride.

“I wasn’t aware you’d be back to join us this week, sir.” You quaked our to your father who smiled.

“I couldn’t miss my daughter’s wedding. Sir Thomas and I came back for the engagement ball tonight and the ceremony this weekend.” Your father spoke as he turned to his elder and you smiled softly in understanding.

This marriage wasn’t for you. It was for them. To raise your father’s rank by providing a woman to wed the son of the Field Marshall. An eligible bachelor that many women would have died for and yet you have known him your whole life. This arrangement has been in motion your whole life.

“Is Gregory here?” You asked in more of a trembling tone. Mrs. Thomas chuckled a bit.

“Oh she’s nervous. Yes dear, he should be back soon.”

You mentally rolled your eyes as you had a keen feeling where your loving fiancé could be. You smiled and pulled a chair from the dining room table.

“Please sit, Lois.” You offered as Mrs. Thomas sat.

You walked over to your mother where you reached out to grab a chair and one of the servant lads grabbed it before you.

“Here, Milady.” The man said and you looked at him and smiled.

“Thank you James.” You whispered as he smiled softly to you, his dark hair falling towards his face. Sitting down you watched as the servant lads went to through the kitchen doors to grab the meal for the morning.

You knew it wasn’t normal for the young lady in the house to know the names of all you served, but you did. You never looked at the workers as being below you, they were people who deserved respect. So you treated them as such, like a friend. Like Adelaide, who is only a ladies maid but she is your closest friend.

You heard the sound of a child laughing running to the dining room as you saw your mother exhale frustratingly. Soon the young girl ran into the dining room, hair a mess and her dress not tightened. Barely had her shoe in her foot with a stocking while the other foot was bare. You giggled to yourself as the young girl ran past your mother who tried to fetch her and you heard Adelaide’s voice from afar.

“Clarissa!”

Clarissa halted in front of you and you smiled at her, “Good morning y/n!”

You embraced your young sister and kissed the top of her head as she pulled back and you noticed Adelaide had entered the kitchen standing next to your mother who was fuming.

“Now Clarissa, what did I tell you about your morning routine?” You started and Clarissa sighed and looked down at her feet.

“To respect Ms. Adelaide’s request and help.” Clarissa mumbled and you smiled gracefully.

“That is correct, now run along back to your room to finish your routine so that way you can join us for breakfast.” You ruffled her hair a bit as she looked up at you in admiration, smiling before turning back to Adelaide and retreating to her room.

“AND she’s good with children, oh dear, imagine.” Ms Thomas exclaimed to her husband implying a future where you would bear her grandchildren. You smiled most uncomfortably at the thought.

“Oh Gregory is here!” Your head snapped to the left side of the room as you spotted the man who you had to wed in a weeks time. His skin was flushed but glowed at the same time as you noticed his hair was a tad bit ruffed up. He wore his military uniform and presented himself in a poised matter. He was attractive, you could not betray that your eyes enjoyed the sight of him. But his heart was not as beautiful. You knew where his intentions were and were completely aware that they had been four inches deep in another woman just now.

“I hope I am not late,” Gregory began as he turned to you and played his act most perfectly, “how honored am I to have the most beautiful fiancé,”

Gregory spoke as he walked towards you and you stood from your chair to greet the man as he rushed quickly. “No need to stand my love, you have all waited long enough,” he turned his attention to a servant lad, “Boy! Bring us the food at once!”

Gregory sat next to you as you watched him. The smell of sweat and perfume reeked off his hair and neck and it made you boil with disgust. He looked at you for a moment and smiled. His orbs shined a sinful mixture of blue and grey as his dark strands of hair laid on his head miraculously well. He was a painted god, a devil in disguise as you knew.

“You look beautiful.” He whispered close before placing a burning kiss to your cheek and you smiled at him.

The background noise of your elders conversing and the aromas of the food being brought out caught your attention. You took hold of the glass of water that sat across you as you took a sip from it. You felt the presence of a servant lad behind you as he placed your plate in front of you. You swallowed the water as you looked up to the boy and smiled.

“Thank you Langston. Do you mind grabbing a simpler plate for Clarissa as well? Oh! And some juice instead of tea?” You requested and the servant lad smiled and nodded.

“Will do Milady.” He said as he retreated back to the kitchen.

You looked down at the plate, loaded with eggs, beans, ham, bacon, fish, and bread. There were sweeter treats placed in the middle of the table for all to share. This was typical, this meal was typical. You knew that there were less fortunate people in the country and you were living in a world full of the rich and selfish.

That’s why you cared for the workers here. You saw the world differently than your family. You didn’t want life to be handed to you but rather felt pride when you worked hard for the things you wanted. That’s why this marriage was something you loathed. Gregory’s status and your father’s would blossom. More money, more luxurious parties, more of everything. The price to pay was your hand. You knew it wasn’t uncommon for some women to wed a man they do not love. But you wanted to fall in love. Something Gregory could not provide you.

You came from your thoughts when you heard the sound of Clarissa’s heeled shoes running towards the room once more. She was in a much better state than before and she hurried next to you as you and a servant lad helped her into her seat.

“Thank you Harry, but I can handle it from here!” Clarissa stated as a matter of fact and you giggled looking up at Harry who laughed a bit.

“I can’t believe you all started eating without me!” Clarissa exclaimed at you crossing her arms.

“I had to request that the kitchen make you something special! I haven’t started eating quite yet.” You leaned to her and she smiled as she rolled her eyes. Before the both of you knew it, you saw a small hand with a plate of food placed in front of Clarissa with a side of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“Here you are milady.”

The voice of the lad hit a nerve in you that rushed your blood cold and skin so hot.. It was a deep, husky, charming voice. Something that could scare you but in a stranger way made you feel safe. Clarissa smiled at the boy and you took the opportunity to look up at him to thank him. But your eyes were met in a sudden pause to reality.

Hair a soft pale blonde, skin soft to the look and to be more when touched. All you could see was the side of his face as he retreated away. Much like the dream this morning. Much like the boy you saw in your mind.

Your heart beat was pounding in your ears as you fell completely in awe as the boy retreated back into the kitchen. You didn’t know him and you knew everyone in this home. Was he real? Was that the boy? Is your mind playing tricks on you? All you knew was that your body felt on fire, but your heart was aching. Who was that boy?

“Y/N!”

Your mind snapped back to where you were again, and all eyes on the table were on you. You looked at your mother who had called your name.

“Y-Yes?”

“Love, are you alright? You look like you have seen a ghost?” Your mother exclaimed and you inhaled deeply to yourself remembering what you just witnessed and felt and you thought to yourself.

I might have just did.

Taglist: @exonations @sunshine-lixie @beaann @yumi-xox

Author’s Note: Hello everyone, after a much needed hiatus I have returned with my second series! I know I am posting on a Friday but I will be posting on Thursdays as usual! Also THANK YOU for 400+ Followers!!! I am genuinely shocked by the love I have received from all of you! I am so excited for our new journey together and I can't wait to read your responses!! With love- KMY

UPDATE: Postings will now be on Fridays due to my schedule now! Thank you❤️

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