#they’ve just never been my jam y’know?
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I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Chapter 8 (Part 1)
Word count: 7,299
For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost
Sunday, December 25th, 2022
Frankenmuth, Michigan
Karen greets you and Josh at the door with warm hugs as you all exchange Merry Christmases. She doesn’t ask you where you’ve been, and she’s just as gracious as the minute you arrived. You’re relieved.
As he walks under the threshold, Sammy gets a smack on the back of the head.
“You could’ve at least sent me a text message, Samuel! I was so worried when I didn’t see your car this morning!”
Sam winces. “Mom! I knew Josh would tell you. And I’m here now.”
She huffs. “Breakfast is almost ready. Take your coats off and go sit at the table.” You all go to comply, but she pulls Josh aside.
“Go and wake up your brother, baby.”
You feel your stomach turn. You know Jake is awake, he just texted you. He just hasn’t come out of his room yet.
Josh nods, removes his coat, and heads upstairs.
You take off your scarf and hang it over Sam’s coat by the door. You’re just left wearing Jake’s sweater over your clothes. You suddenly feel very exposed.
You follow Sammy into the dining room, where Kai and Ronnie are sitting at opposite sides of the table, showing each other TikToks.
“‘Morning, family.” Sam greets them.
“Merry Christmas!” Ronnie jumps up and hugs you both. You’re definitely starting to feel more comfortable with her now, despite the circumstances.
“Happy Christmas, guys.” Kai smiles at you both.
“Happy Christmas, Kai.” You return. You move to take the empty seat by him, opposite from Ronnie, and you give him a kiss on the cheek. “I never got to tell you how fucking delicious that thing you made the other night was. You have to give me the recipe.”
He laughs. “My mom would be happy to hear that! I’ll text it to you.” You exchange numbers.
You hear creaking on the stairs, and sure enough, Josh makes his way into the dining room. Jake is a few steps behind him. When he sees you, he gives you a meek smile, and leans against the door frame, watching his family banter.
He looks like he’s in surprisingly better shape than he was last night, though the circles under his eyes are a dead giveaway. His long hair is pulled back into a low bun, a few pieces loose around his face. He’s wearing a black linen shirt, mostly unbuttoned, and almost matching trousers. His Atocha pendant is hanging around his neck. You’re a pair, both dressed in black. You may as well be going to a funeral. He’s definitely not dressed appropriately for the weather, but he never is.
Sam gets up to give his brother a hug, and whispers in his ear. About you, you’re sure. Sam rubs Jake’s arm as he goes back to his seat next to Ronnie.
Josh comes over to give Kai a kiss, glancing at where you’re sat, and then goes back to sit down on Ronnie’s other side, opposite Kai. This leaves three free seats for Jake and his parents. The one at each end of the table, and the one next you. You curse internally. It’s almost like his siblings are orchestrating this.
They might be, for all you know. They’ve got no idea how hard you actually rejected Jake last night.
Karen and Kelly come bustling in with plates of food and pots of coffee. You remember Jake telling you that the Kiszkas always had a traditional Polish breakfast of apple pancakes on Christmas.
“Something Dad’s family always did. He makes them the best. It’s the only time Mom will let him near the kitchen, y’know, unless it’s to wash the dishes.” He’d told you.
Karen has supplemented the spread with some kind of fluffy scones and jam, fresh fruit and scrambled eggs. It all looks and smells delicious.
“Happy Christmas, my babies.” Karen coos. “Go on, dig in.” She gestures to the plates and cups and you all move to fill your plates at once. She looks to Jake. “Grab the milk and cream for me, will you, sweetheart?” He nods and heads into the kitchen, as his parents take their respective seats at the heads of the table.
Everyone begins to eat and chatter as Jake returns, placing the jugs on the table next his mother before making his way ‘round to sit by you. He pulls the chair out and silently raises his eyebrow as if to ask your permission. You give a small nod and he sits. It’s not like you have a choice.
Sam clears his throat to get the table’s attention.
“So,” He clasps his hands in front of himself, very much like Josh does. “What’s on the agenda for today, then, momma?”
“Well, honey, it’s up to you guys, really. But I was thinking we do presents after breakfast,” the Kiszka kids giggle excitedly at this, “and then I thought I might put Ronnie and you, Sammy, on dishes duty.” They nod. “Kai and Josh might be kind enough to get some more firewood from the shed, and Jake and Y/N can help me set the table and get lunch started? I think after breakfast, we probably won’t eat till late, maybe 2 or 3 o’clock. So you’ll all get some time to hang out in between, maybe we can watch White Christmas?” You remember Jake telling you that this was Karen’s tradition. She loves old movies and musicals, and she always watched White Christmas with her sisters growing up.
There’s a chorus of nods and hums of agreement around the room. You see Jake’s fist clench on his thigh, his knuckles whitening. You swallow. You’re sure Karen isn’t doing this with ill intention. If anything, you imagine she thinks she’s being kind, however misguided it might be.
“What about Dad?” Ronnie pipes up.
Karen smirks, and Kelly clears his throat. “I made the pancakes, Ron. And I’m on Santa duty. After all that, I reckon I’ll need a nap.”
You all giggle.
Karen shakes her head, laughing. “I’m sending your dad out to shovel the driveway. He’ll be plenty busy, don’t you worry.”
Ronnie looks satisfied with this.
Sam looks happy with this plan, too, until he remembers something. “What about the Christmas concert?”
Karen beams, but Josh groans. “Aren’t we too old for that? Mom and Dad and Ron have seen us play arena shows, do we really need to bash out terrible Christmas songs in the garage? I need vocal rest.”
Everyone laughs.
“C’mon, love. I want to hear you sing.” Kai looks at Josh with the most adoring expression, it almost makes you feel a bit sick. Josh immediately blushes and takes Kai’s hand across the table.
“Well, okay. For you, anything.”
Kai turns to Karen and gives her an over-exaggerated wink. She giggles.
“It’s not a Kiszka Christmas without some music.” She smiles broadly.
Sam nudges Ronnie. “Besides, one of us has yet to play an arena show. Reckon you can keep up, sis?”
She rolls her eyes. “I can sing Christmas carol circles around you idiots. You’d better watch out, or I’ll be the one in the jumpsuit come January.” She pokes Sam in the ribs with her pointer finger, and he winces. “Jake and I look enough like twins, no one’ll be able to tell the difference.”
Sammy chuckles and smacks her away. “Hear that, Josh? She’s coming for your gig.”
“Not unless she plans to sing ‘Jingle Bells’ in Las Vegas, she’s not.” Josh retorts, poking his tongue out at his sister. She flips him off.
Sam gestures to you and Kai. “You two are in for a real treat.”
You giggle. “Can’t wait.”
“Me neither.” Kai nods enthusiastically.
Jake has been quiet throughout breakfast. When you glance over at him, you see that Karen has her hand resting on his on the table, rubbing circles with her thumb.
She knows.
You feel a different kind of guilt bubbling up in you. You’ve hurt him, you know that. He’s hurt you, too. But you have all the power now. You know how you feel about him, and if he feels anything remotely close, sitting right next to you under the circumstances would have to be painful.
You have to resist the urge to reach under the table and place your hand on his thigh, like he’d often to for you if you were anxious or sad. Despite your treatment of him last night, you still want to comfort him. You hate being the reason he might be having a shitty time today.
When breakfast wraps up, you all begin to stack your plates and clear the table. Karen waves you all off. “We’ll do it after. Everyone in the living room in ten minutes for presents!”
Jake is the first to get up, quickly disappearing upstairs. When you can, you make an escape to the downstairs bathroom, pulling out your phone.
10.04am
You: If I’m trying to enjoy it, you have to, too.
You don’t wait for a reply.
You leave the bathroom and wander to the kitchen, finding Karen refilling the coffee filter.
“Can I give you a hand?” You ask.
She looks up at you. “That would be great, honey. Can you grab the mugs from the table and bring them in here to rinse?”
You nod, and follow her instructions.
When you’re back in the kitchen, rinsing and stacking the mugs next to the sink, Karen breaks the silence.
“Are you alright, sweetheart? We missed you, the last few days.”
You decide to bite the bullet. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m so sorry I left so suddenly, I didn’t mean to take advantage of your hospitality like that. Jake and I just had a bit of a disagreement, and I felt like it would be better if I had my own place to stay for a few days.“
She hums. “I’m sorry to hear it. Jake’s been all out of sorts since you left. Sammy, being the gossip that he is, told me that he and Lily had ended things. I think I’m beginning to understand why.” She gives you a knowing look from the corner of her eye as she turns on the coffee pot.
Your cheeks bloom. What were you supposed to say to that? Anything that wouldn’t make you sound like a home wrecker.
“It’s complicated, I think. He’s my best friend.”
She nods. “I know, honey. And that’s usually the best foundation for a relationship.”
You feel tears pricking in your eyes. You’ve cried more in the past few days than you can ever remember crying in your life. “Are you upset with him?”
She looks up at you. “What for?”
“About Lily.”
“Of course not. Why would I be? I love her like a daughter, and she’ll always feel like family. But sometimes love just runs its course. They were just kids when they met, they didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. Most people have many loves in their lifetime, some stronger than others. It’s rare, when it’s real. And you’ll know if it is. If you find it, you gotta hold onto it. Don’t let it go.”
You nod. “Thank you, Karen.”
She gives you a smile so warm it almost hurts. “You’re welcome, Y/N. And I’m glad my boys have been looking after you, while Jake couldn’t.”
You smile back. “Me too.”
She takes the pot and heads out to the living room.
You follow her with the stack of clean cups and put them down on the coffee table. You turn to grab your purse from the hooks by the door, and head back in to take a seat on the ottoman, next to the Christmas tree. You’re hoping to avoid any further awkward seating arrangements.
You fish through your bag for your gifts, bundling them up under your seat to keep them out of sight. Just like Danny’s, none are wrapped, so you’ll have to give them out as is. You sigh.
Everyone filters in after a few more minutes, taking their seats around the living room. Kelly sits in the recliner, a Santa hat on his head. You giggle.
Jake returns, too, and heads straight for the record player. He puts on a Christmas album, and it’s very quiet, but after a few bars, you make it out to be Rosemary Clooney.
Karen grins from her perch on the arm of Kelly’s chair. “Thank you, baby.” She nods to Jake.
He gives her a warm smile, the most you’ve seen from him all morning.
You let out a deep breath. He’s trying.
Once he’s sitting down, on the couch next to Josh, you peek a glance at him. He looks just as gorgeous as ever. His eyes are lacking that signature sparkle, but he’s smiling, so that’s a start. You can’t help but look at his lips. The lips that were on yours last night, in such a frenzy that he’d left you a little swollen today. The memory is not as painful to relive as you were worried it might be. It’s actually kind of nice, and you find yourself wondering what would’ve happened if you hadn’t called it off.
You see him lick his lips absently, and you’re instantly transported to the night before, reliving the feeling of his tongue on you. You shiver.
You’re broken from your confusing daydream by Kelly. “Alright, then. Ho, ho, ho. Who wants to go first?”
Everyone laughs, and Josh puts his hand up. “Me, Santa! I want to go first.”
“Okay, then, Joshua. Give Santa your presents and I’ll hand them out for you.”
Josh gets up, and Ronnie cackles. Everyone looks at her. “Dad, if you’re gonna make us all get up to get our gifts, isn’t it easier if we just give them out ourselves?”
Kelly thinks it over for a second, then he nods. “Yeah. You’re all too old for this now. Give out your own presents.”
Karen laughs and shoves his shoulder. “Kelly.” She scolds.
Josh begins to hunt through the pile under the tree for his gifts, and hands them out one by one, starting with his parents.
Sam nudges your leg from his spot on the floor. “Be thankful it’s not Oliver Reed’s year to give out the presents. Those are much more exhausting.” He snickers.
“Oi, Samuel. Don’t you be talking any shit about ol’ Oliver. Be grateful that you get to have the privilege of his presence.” Jake puts on his terrible British accent, and in spite of yourself, you giggle.
Jake looks at you, surprised. Then, much to your own surprise, he smiles, and winks.
You feel yourself blushing, and you quickly look away, diverting your attention to Ronnie, who’s now opening her present from Josh.
“Wow! An Eiffel Tower keychain! Just what I’ve always wanted!” She sticks her tongue out at him.
“Shut up, Ronnie. Look underneath it.”
She pulls out a gorgeous French silk scarf, and gives him a genuine grin. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“I am a man of many talents, and one of them is having impeccable taste.” He retorts, as she gets up to give him a kiss on the cheek.
Josh gifts you a large piece of fabric, on it a reproduction of a black and white Italian lino-print, which you’d seen in a gallery together on one of your days off. You tell him it’s too much, but he waves you off.
“I knew I had to get it for you when I saw it. Was gonna give it to you when we got back to New York. You’d better make something beautiful with it.” He tells you.
Your gift from Karen (and Kelly) is a framed postcard of the Frankenmuth Memorial Park Rose Garden, a beautiful image of a bed of pale pink and white flowers.
“So you can put it up at home and think of here.” She smiles at you. You feel like you might cry again.
More gifts are exchanged, and as if in silent synchronization, you and Jake get up at the same time to pour the coffees and pass them around. More than once he makes eye contact with you, and you find yourself feeling a little giddy under his gaze. This is not how you expected to feel today.
When it’s your turn, you retrieve your pile of presents from under the ottoman, and begin to hand them out to Jake’s family. You’re met with a chorus of ‘thank you’s and compliments on your talent. You blush, insisting that they’re just little things.
When you get to Sammy, you make him close his eyes and hold out his hands, like you did with Danny. He’s met with a red, knitted fisherman’s beanie, which you’re especially proud of. He gives you the biggest goofy grin and puts it on straight away, sitting up on his knees to give you a hug.
“I love it!” He exclaims, and you giggle. You didn’t expect any less enthusiasm from him.
Josh is next, and he gives you a soft smile as you hand him the narrow, white and gold scarf you made for him. He wraps it around his throat and tosses one end over his shoulder.
“How very Parisienne of you.” You giggle.
“I’m really embracing my inner European after the tour.” He smirks. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s gorgeous.”
You smile. “It suits you.”
You’ve saved Jake for last. Maybe out of fear, or maybe something else. You’re not sure now. You get up, and move to stand in front of him.
“Do I have to close my eyes, too?” He asks quietly.
His family begin to chatter around you, as if to disperse the tension. You’re relieved.
“Only if you want to.”
He does, and it’s different from when his brothers did it. It doesn’t feel silly. In fact, there’s something intimate about it.
You place the small gift into his outstretched hands. He opens his eyes, but instead of looking straight at the gift, he looks at you first. Your face warms, again.
When he does look down, he gives a smile so broad that it suddenly makes you feel embarrassed, like you shouldn’t have done this here. The gift itself isn’t extremely exciting, but seeing his reaction, it suddenly feels intensely personal.
He slides the black, fingerless gloves onto his hands, admiring them, before looking at you again.
“So I can play guitar in them?” He asks.
You nod shyly.
“They’re perfect.” He murmurs. “Thank you.” It’s so earnest.
You blush deeply, and quickly return to your seat. He takes the gloves off and places them neatly on the arm of the couch.
His family pretend to be oblivious to the interaction, which you’re immensely grateful for. Sammy can’t help himself, and gives you a sly look as you sit back down.
Sam’s next, and his gift to you is a beautiful robin’s egg blue mug, speckled with what looks like sand.
“Sam, this is gorgeous.”
He smirks. “It’s from me and Lennon. Her sister made it, you know how she’s got a pottery studio.”
You nod. “Thank you.”
The rest of his gifts to his family are all also handmade pottery, and you sense a theme.
“Did Lennon send you here with a suitcase full of breakable items?” Ronnie teases him. “She’s a brave girl. How much did you spend on bubble wrap?”
Sam puffs his chest. “Yes, she did. And I didn’t break a single one, thank you very much. Bubble wrap is very expensive.”
You all chuckle at him.
Jake gives out his presents last, and in the hustle and bustle, no one seems to notice that you don’t receive one. You’re not upset, you figure he either didn’t get you anything, or he decided not to give it to you after last night. Fair enough.
After everyone’s done with presents and you’ve all had your fill of coffee, you and Ronnie are left to wrapping paper pick-up duty, while the rest of the family starts on the chores Karen has assigned them.
You hold the trash bag while Ronnie picks up the paper and cards and dumps them in. You ask her to save the ribbons for you, so she lays them in a neat pile on the coffee table. You’re quiet for a few minutes as the others meander in and out of the room.
Once you’re alone, she speaks. So matter of factly, it takes you a second to catch up.
“Did it get too much?” She smirks, but she’s not making fun of you. She might as well have said ‘I told you so’, but you feel like you deserve that at this point.
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s complicated.”
“I bet. He’s been pining over you for the last three days. It’s been unbearable.”
You feel your face go red. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She smirks again, but this time you feel like you’re in on the joke. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Y/N. I don’t judge you, or him. I like you. And Jake is in love with you, I saw it on his face from the first moment he talked about you. I’m glad he and Lily have worked their shit out. First love rarely lasts forever, unless you’re our parents. Now you just gotta decide if you wanna be with him, too. ‘Cause he’ll do anything for you. He’s the best person, Y/N. Don’t hurt him.” She really is her mother’s daughter, but she has a bit of that Sammy spunk in her. Relentless, honest, protective. She’s a good sister.
“I know.” You say honestly. He is the best person.
She nods. “Good. Then I won’t say anything else about it.”
“Thanks, Ronnie.”
“It’s all good.” She smiles, not a smirk this time. A genuine, toothy smile. God, she looks like her brothers.
Preparations for lunch go by smoothly, and fast. You and Jake keep your interactions to a minimum while helping in the kitchen and setting the table, but when you do speak, or hand things to one another, you struggle to keep your chest from fluttering. You don’t know what could possibly feel so different from last night, but even being in his proximity today is enough to give you butterflies. It feels like a school girl crush, a single glance or brush of his hand is enough to make you swoon.
Once the food is in the oven, Karen dismisses you both and instructs you to put on the movie for her. The two of you sit on the couch while the others flit in and out, watching bits and singing along to the songs. You’re not sitting right next to each other, but you’re not on opposite ends, either. There’s maybe a foot of space between you, and you can feel the electricity radiating from his body to yours. It makes it near impossible to focus on the TV, but when you do, all you can see are magnificent costumes.
The only time you speak is during ‘Count Your Blessings’.
“This was always my favourite song, you know.” He says, without looking at you.
“Mine too. Why’s it yours?”
“It’s so romantic.” Is all he says. “You?”
“I think it’s hopeful.”
You risk a glance at him, and he’s staring straight at the screen, but you see the sparkle starting to return. You smile to yourself.
At lunch, you don’t sit together, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You’re sat next to Josh, Jake kind of diagonally across from you. Every time you chance a look at him, he’s staring at you. It feels so intense, like you might shatter under the weight of his gaze.
You decide you have to talk to him, today. You have to apologise. You need him to know why you pushed him away, and that it’s not for lack of feeling on your part. Things are just too messy right now, and you need time, if he’ll even give it to you.
Once you decide this, you start to feel a bit more relaxed. You’re two glasses of wine in, and you start to itch to have the conversation over with. You just want to clear the air. You want to be able to be friends again. You want things to go back to how they were, before.
After lunch, Sam rallies the Kiszkas for a quick concert rehearsal in the garage, and you and Kai help Karen with the clean up. Kelly really does go upstairs for a nap.
The three of you chatter about anything and everything, trading recipes, talking about old movies. You’re definitely feeling more comfortable now, the wine has loosened you up. And now you’ve got the awkward conversations with Karen and Ronnie out of the way, you’re actually having a great time.
You wipe down the dining table as Kai and Karen bring out the desserts.
“I don’t know how I’m gonna fit any more food in.” Kai whispers to you when Karen’s in the kitchen.
You giggle. “Me neither, but it looks so fucking good.” You swipe some whipped cream from the top of the trifle with your finger, and put it in your mouth.
Of course, the Kiszka kids find this the opportune moment to walk in, and you make direct eye contact with Jake as you remove your index finger from your mouth with a wet pop. He goes beet red, and quickly scurries into the kitchen.
Kai giggles.
“That was hot.” Sam comments, totally oblivious.
You blush, too.
Everyone agrees that they’re far too full to fit in dessert right now, so Sammy declares it time to wake up Dad for the ‘Annual Kiszka Christmas Concert Extravaganza’. Josh teases him for not being very creative with names.
You don your scarf, and you all trudge through the snow to the garage, where someone (presumably Ronnie) has thoughtfully set up some extra folding chairs for the audience. You take a seat on the far left, Kelly and Karen on the couch, Kai on the other side.
Sammy takes his seat behind the tiny electric keyboard, Jake on his guitar stool the far right, acoustic in hand. Ronnie and Josh sit on two camping chairs in front of the drum kit.
As soon as Sam and Jake play the first notes, you immediately recognise the song, and you grin. When you look over to Jake, he’s grinning back at you. He’s taken his hair down, and he’s wearing his glasses. You’re not sure if he really needs them to play guitar (in fact, you know he doesn’t), and you can’t help but wonder if he’s worn them because you told him you liked them.
Josh and Ronnie begin to sing, a pitch perfect rendition of ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’. They giggle with each other as they sing, it adds to the atmosphere. Jake and Sam give the song a little bit of a bluesy flair, and it’s amazing.
When the songs ends, the four of you give as raucous of an applause as you can manage, whooping and hollering and cheering for the Kiszka family band.
“Encore! Encore!” Karen cries.
They all laugh.
“Maybe later, momma. When Daniel is here.” Sam bargains.
“Alright, alright.” She concedes. “Let’s go inside, then. It’s so cold!”
Everyone follows Karen and Kelly up to the house, but Jake hangs back. Now’s your chance. You lean against the garage door and wait for him to notice you. When he does, he smiles.
“Did ya like that?” He takes his glasses off and hangs them on his shirt pocket.
You grin. “Not your usual style, but I can appreciate it.”
He chuckles. “Gotta pay respect to my roots.”
You nod, and it’s quiet for a moment as he fiddles around with the guitars on the rack.
You take a deep breath. “Can we talk?”
He looks up at you, and nods. “Yeah, okay. What’s up?”
“I’m sorry about last night, Jake. I didn’t mean for things to go down that way.”
He sighs. “I thought we weren’t gonna talk about it today.”
“I think we have to. I’m having a hard time.”
“Why’s that?”
You shake your head. “I think I’m just confused.”
His brow furrows. “Last night, when you said you couldn’t. Did you mean you couldn’t at all? Or you just couldn’t then?”
“I don’t know.” You sigh.
He looks almost, relieved? He takes a deep breath. “I know what I want, Y/N. I want to be with you. If you don’t want that now, I’ll wait. But I don’t think I’m ever going to change my mind. I don’t know when it happened, but all of a sudden I can’t imagine my life without you in it. And not just as my friend.”
Your heart is pounding. “I do want this, Jake. I’m just scared. This is all happening so fast.”
“Please, don’t be. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. And I don’t think it’s happened fast at all. Five months ago, y’know, when I saw you at that fitting, I felt it. Like a magnetic pull. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew then that you were gonna be important to me.”
“You remember the fitting?”
He nods. “You were adjusting the button on my rose suit pants. You barely said a word to me. I couldn’t get the feeling of your hands on my waist outta my head for a week.”
You shake your head. “But, at the party. You said you didn’t remember.”
He chuckles. “I felt like I’d made a terrible first impression. I’d spent the whole of our first interaction attempting to pick my jaw up off the floor. That night, I was so nervous, I got drunk before I even saw you. I, uh, I was trying to be smooth.”
You can’t help but giggle, but you feel warm tears running down your face.
“Do you really love me?”
“I don’t remember ever feeling this strongly about anyone. I spend every minute of every day wanting to learn more about you, to know you inside and out. You’re the most interesting, passionate, and smart person I’ve ever met. And you took my breath away, when I first saw you. I’d never seen anyone as radiant as you.”
“You took my breath away, too.”
He looks surprised. “Really?”
You nod, your hands shaking. “Yeah. I felt the magnet, too. I thought it was just me.”
He breathes a heavy sigh of relief. “No. Not just you.”
He steps close to you. You’re both standing just inside the garage, out of view of the house. He reaches up to brush his fingertips down your cheek, catching your tears.
“That night in London, when I was drunk, and you helped me in my room. I almost told you everything. Things were complicated, and somehow I found the self-restraint not to. But God, I wanted to. So badly. You looked so beautiful.”
You nod. “The next night, when you kissed me. I never wanted you to stop.”
A small noise leaves his lips. It almost sounds like an elated laugh.
“I should’ve asked you, then. And last night. I didn’t, and I regret that.” He takes a deep breath. He looks nervous. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.” You breathe, and he does.
It’s different from all the other kisses. It’s slow, but not hesitant. He wraps his arms around your middle to hold you to him firmly, his hands sliding under your sweater, his thumb rubbing your spine.
It’s so intense, it makes you shiver. It feels right, this time.
You press your tongue against his lip, and you feel his surprise, but he lets you in. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion, you’re tasting him, really savouring him, and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. This feels like a life-changing kiss. Things won’t be the same after this.
You knot both of your hands into the hair behind his ears, pushing it back off his face, while pulling him closer to you. Before you can get too heated, he breaks contact, leaving a final, soft kiss on your lips. He rests his forehead on yours, your eyes still closed. You sigh.
“I think I love you, too, Jake.”
He pulls back to look at you, his hands still gripping your waist, eyes flicking between yours.
“You don’t have to say it just because I did. We can take this slow. We haven’t even slept together yet.” He chuckles.
You shake your head. “No. I’m not saying it just because you did.”
He beams, and gives you another soft kiss before pulling you into him. You bury your face in his neck. He smells like home.
After a few moments, you pull away. “We should head back inside.”
“Yeah.” He smiles, sheepishly. “I don’t want to.”
You giggle. “Me neither, but I can’t disappoint your mother again.”
“Fair enough.” He nods. “Danny and his parents will be here soon. We’ve probably got a few more hours to get through.”
He takes your hand in his, and you realise he’s been wearing your gloves all this time.
You grin.
You step outside as he closes up the garage, and you follow him up to the house.
The rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur. The Wagners arrive at some point, without Josie, as she’d gone off to spend time with her partner’s family. You all eat dessert, and more drinks and gifts are shared. You’re dizzy with adrenaline.
When you’d arrived at the back door, Jake had dropped your hand, giving you a sly smirk, before opening the door for you and ushering you inside.
You’d received questioning looks from his siblings, but you just let it lie. Right now, this was just for the two of you. They’d know soon enough.
For the rest of the day, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of each other, even if you’d tried. Which you didn’t. You found yourself swooning over the simplest of things, him bringing his mom a cup of tea, or helping Ronnie do up the laces of her new sneakers. He even spent a minute straightening Sam’s collar, and you thought that was adorable. They were grown-ups, but they still cared for each other like siblings should.
At one point, he caught you coming out of the guest bathroom downstairs and pulled you into a corner just to plant a hard kiss on your mouth and walk away with a snicker. You were positively giddy.
It’s dark now, early evening. Everyone is scattered around the dining and living rooms, nursing their drinks and laughing together. You’re perched on the arm of the sofa by Sammy and Josh as they play a very heated game of Mario Kart, Kai whispering pointers in Josh’s ear. This is what you remember of your family Christmases. You feel happy.
Jake appears from nowhere and taps you on the shoulder, tipping his head toward the front door. You raise your eyebrows and he just smirks, pulling you up from your seat and ushering you outside.
Your teeth start chattering the moment the cold air hits you. He pulls the door closed behind himself, leaving you both standing in just the dim porch light.
“What are you doing? It’s fucking freezing out here!” You rub your arms, hoping to cause some friction between your bare hands and the wool of Jake’s sweater.
He chuckles. “This’ll only take a sec. Close your eyes.”
You frown, but you comply.
“Hold out your hands.”
You feel something small and square drop into your palm, and you chance opening one eye to give him a quizzical look.
He laughs. “Okay, you can open.”
You look down, and see a small, silver box in your hands, tied with a yellow ribbon. You look up at him. “What is this?”
He rolls his eyes. “Just open it.”
You pull the ribbon and it falls undone into your fingers. You reach forward to shove it into his pocket, and he smirks.
You feel a little nervous, but with shaky hands, you pry open the lid of the box.
Inside, you see a small, gold pendant, on a matching delicate chain. You touch it gently, before sliding your fingers underneath it to lift it out.
It’s a bow and arrow. Like his suit. Exactly like it.
You gasp, and look up at him, your eyes already brimming with tears.
“Jake.” You breathe.
He smiles. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”
You clutch the pendant between your fingers so as not to drop it and lunge for him, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face into his chest. Your heart is pounding in your ears.
You feel him chuckle as he reciprocates the embrace, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.
“I’m glad you like it.”
You pull back to look at him. “I love it, Jake. It’s perfect. Thank you. You didn’t have to.”
You smiles warmly and takes the necklace from your hand, gesturing for you to turn around. “I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”
You lift your hair for him as he wraps the chain around your throat and clasps it for you, using the opportunity to brush his warm fingertips over the back of your neck. You shudder.
When you turn back around, you lift your hand to run your own fingers over the pendant. It feels like it was made for you.
He takes a step back to look at you, admiring the addition.
“I saw it in London, when I was out the day before the show, before I’d decided to wear the suit. It’s what made me do it, actually. I thought of you instantly.”
You sniffle. “When we were fighting?”
He nods. “Well, we were never really fighting, y’know. I was under the impression you’d accused me of having a crush on you, so I was, uh, avoiding you. I guess I lived up to that by buying you a necklace when I didn’t know if you’d ever want to speak to me again.” He steps forward again, putting his hands on your waist and resting his forehead against yours.
You giggle through your tears. “You thought I was mad at you for having a crush on me?”
He nods, his hair tickling your cheeks.
“How could I have thought that? You never said it.”
He smirks. “I thought that’s what you were saying to me, outside your hotel room in Manchester.”
You think back to that night, everything suddenly clicking into place. “Oh, Jake. That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, yeah. I know that now.” He shrugs. “What did you mean?” He asks you slyly, although you’re sure he already knows the answer.
“I meant that I had feelings for you.”
He hums. “Thought so.”
He lifts his hands to cup your face, and plants the softest of kisses on your lips.
When he pulls back, you sigh, your eyes still closed.
“Thank you for waiting.”
You open your eyes, and he's looking at you questioningly. “Waiting for what?”
“Until you sorted things out with Lily. I know I reacted poorly last night, but I know you were trying to do the right thing. Not hurt anyone.”
He hums. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner.”
You shake your head. “No, don’t be sorry for that. She deserved to get the chance to talk to you in person, before things got complicated. You did the right thing.”
He nods. “I know.”
“Are you okay?”
He nods. “I’m okay. I wasn’t surprised, or anything. And I would’ve done it, if she hadn’t. Maybe I’m still processing.”
You continue. You want to get this off your chest. “I’m a bit worried about that, if I’m honest. I know it’s over between you two, but I also know it’s fresh. You might be grieving that relationship for a while. I just want you to know that it’s okay. We’ve jumped into this really fast, already professing our love for each other. If you need to take a step back, or hit pause, while you sort things out, or if you need to be on your own for a while, I want you to have that chance.”
He looks at you confusedly. “Do you want to hit pause?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. But I’ve been single for a while, and I’ve also had a crush on you for a while,” you blush, “so it’s not the same for me. I just want you to know that I’ll wait for you, if that’s what you need.”
He grins. “I don’t wanna wait for you anymore. When we were young, my mom always told us; when we found love, real love, to never let it go. I don’t plan to.”
You giggle. “She said the same thing to me.”
“About me?”
“I think so.”
He pulls you into him again. “I’m not gonna let you go.”
When you make it back inside, most everyone pretends not to notice you’d slipped away, except Danny. As Jake brushes his hand over your back to head to the kitchen, Danny gives you a subtle look across the living room, and you nod. He grins.
You walk over to him and sling your arm around his waist, not saying anything. He just rests his chin on the top of your head and smiles.
He whispers into your hair. “You worked it out, I take it?”
You blush. “I’ll tell you one day.”
He chuckles.
You whisper to him. “What’s going on with you and Jules?”
He snickers, and without looking at you he says, “I’ll tell you one day.”
You smile.
As the evening comes to a close, the boys bring out their guitars one last time, and Josh and Jake sing a melancholy song you’ve never heard before. Danny stays close by your side as he strums one of Kelly’s old acoustics, and you and Jake make the most intense eye contact, you start to feel your head spin.
When all is said and done, Kelly announces that it’s time for him to go to bed, and everyone giggles and makes their rounds, kissing and hugging one another, and wishing everyone a final Merry Christmas.
The Wagners clear out, and Josh and Kai head to the basement for bed, but not before Josh gives you a drunk, sloppy kiss on the cheek and a tight squeeze. Kai gives you a big grin and ushers his other half down the stairs. Karen gives you a warm embrace and thanks you for coming, and she and Kelly head upstairs to retire, too. Sammy and Ronnie are still curled up on the couch, some old action movie playing softly on the TV.
As you stand in the entryway, Jake takes your hand and threads his fingers through yours.
“Do you want me to take you back to the motel?” He asks quietly.
You nod.
His face falls imperceptibly, but he takes your scarf from the hook and wraps it around your neck, pulling on his own coat, too.
You grab your bag, and head over to give Sammy a kiss on the top of his head, squeezing Ronnie’s shoulder.
“Merry Christmas, you guys. Thanks for having me.”
They both look up at you with sleepy smiles, and Sam’s eyes flick to Jake in the doorway before coming back to rest on you.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He mutters, a cheeky grin plastered on his face, and Ronnie smacks his arm.
You blush. “Goodnight, Sammy.”
“‘Night, Y/N. Glad you came.”
You smile. “Me too.”
Chapter 8 (Part 2)
@ohgodthefeeling-gvf @profitofthedune @sinarainbows @klarxtr @jakesgrapejuice @gretavangroupie @mackalah @clairesjointshurt @writingcold @alwaysonthemend @jakekiszkasbuttsweat
happy early birthday @klarxtr! sorry i couldn't reply to your comment on this account - but consider this my gift to you xx
#jake kiszka#greta van fleet#sam kiszka#danny wagner#josh kiszka#jake gvf#jake kiszka x reader#gvf fic#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet smut#gvf smut
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The Grace - One More Time, Oay?
Okay… Phew. So let’s see. I always begin by reading a group’s Wikipedia article. From Wikipedia: “The Grace … is a South Korean a cappella group”. So here I am, expecting an album that is at least largely a cappella. And instead, we get a single a cappella track, which is a cover. And granted, it’s the highlight of the album, but why couldn’t we get more than that? Really makes me want to check out their later stuff. Actually, I might just do this, because this album was really disappointing. Slow jams, and the fast ones weren’t too interesting either. Maybe, since this was their first album, they eventually grow into an a cappella group? 6.8 which is about right, maybe even a bit high.
Okay no I just did some looking and Dancing Queen appears to be the only a cappella thing they’ve ever released?? Neither of their Japanese albums have “a cappella” listed as a genre, and… Okay wait let me page through a japanese album of theirs.
Okay yeah, I just went through Dear… and there’s nothing a cappella on there either. Maybe the subunit then??
An SM music video with 2.4M views, never thought I’d see the day. Definitely not a cappella
Just checked a few live performances. They don’t do any of their own songs a cappella, but they do “Dancing Queen” and also “Can’t Help Falling In Love” in multiple performances. There’s also several other one-offs. So i guess they performed covers live a cappella, but all of their own songs had instrumentation.
All I’m saying is that if they had filled an album with a cappella covers, I would’ve enjoyed that way more than an album full of slow jams.
한번 더, OK? (One More Time, Okay?)
Okay, this guitar hits hard
The music video is … very 2007
Aggressive bass, not sure if I like it with the vocals
So just to be clear, they went from this to SNSD in less than a year lmao
“You’re talkin’ too nasty”
HOLY SHIT A BASS SOLO
A bit of pole dancing, alright
“This time you don’t let me down” is SO fun with those harmonies
Ad libs in this chorus are nice
Kind of surprised at how sexy of a concept this is
8/10, this song felt very f(x) to me
"女友 (그녀들의 수다) (Girlfriends (Their Talking))
Nice, got some synth organ going on here
Cheers, strings, disco much?
Strong vocal contrast, “take me higher” vs the preceding vocalist
The oooohs are interesting – they feel synthesized
Holy shit this vocalist does not fuck around
7/10, fun track, neat vocals
女友 Interlude (Girlfriends Interlude)
Okay I don’t speak Korean but I do appreciate that stifled laugh
Honestly, really creative interlude. Albums don’t do random shit like this anymore
8/10
Sweet Emotion
Here’s the slow jam we’ve been waiting for
Y’know, after listening to a bunch of these over the past week or so, I can confidently say that most slow jams sound functionally the same to me
Lmao I’m sure I misheard them but it sounds like they just sang “Lee Soo-man”
Who is their main vocalist? She’s excellent
Oh okay, a bit of electric guitar here in the bridge
7/10, which tbf is about as high as I’ll ever give this style of music
그 사람... 욕하지 마요 (My Heartbreak) (That Person… Don’t Curse)
I appreciate the instrumentation, at least in the intro, and the piano too
6/10
Renew (사랑할 땐, 좋아할 땐) ((When I love you, when I like you))
…pop country?
Nah, but not too far removed with this guitar
Also wtf is this bass drum
Ba da ba ba ba ba ba
This feels kind of like a Disney song, like the song at the end once we’re all happy
Electric guitar for the outro
7/10, interesting musical choices but I wasn’t totally won over
4월의 첫 날 (April Fools' Day)
Y’know, I’m still waiting for an a cappella song from what is supposedly an a cappella album
Maybe my biggest issue with kpop ballads is that since I don’t understand the lyrics, I’m missing the whole point of the song
Yeah it’s probably that
But still, I also don’t care for English ballads
6/10
Dancer in the Rain
Funny name because Rain is on this album
Synths, distorted guitar, and strings?
Wtf is this beat though lmao
Sound chip synth
Mamamoo would Slay this chorus
Lol what is this second verse!
8/10, this shook me in a way that the album desperately needed
아니기를 (Not To Be)
Time After Time
I mean the chorus isn’t like that at all, but the verses totally give me those vibes
5/10
하루만 (Just For One Day)"(feat. Kyuhyun of Super Junior)
OMG they actually named the male rapper??
Or maybe he sings, in which case I lied
Yep, he sings
Also according to Wikipedia they’re supposed to be a TVXQ counterpart, so why do they have a Super Junior on here?
His voice is Super pretty
I like the slow jam with the male vocalist, the bit of contrast helps
7/10
Tonight Is On Me
Funky bass
Funky beat, jazzy hums
Now some gritty guitar, they do tend to use the gritty guitar in this album
Pretty pretty harmonies
Bit of growl
7/10, it was fun but it didn’t like Go anywhere
Dancing Queen
What are these vocal samples in the background haha
OH MY GOD ITS ACTUALLY DANCING QUEEN
OKAY SO IT IS a cappella
And these harmonies
Yeah, this is the song. Like if you’re gonna listen to a song on this album, it’s this one
The harmonies in the chorus are genuinely super fun
9/10, this is what I was waiting for
열정 (My Everything)
Cute little synths in the background of the chorus
They cut the instrumental in a couple of songs – what’s the word for that? There’s a word for that
5/10, mid
Boomerang
Bboom Bboom lol
More upbeat r&b, we like it
The bass is doing a lot of work in the chorus
Lol what where did the guitar come from
They really do love their electric guitars in this album
I hope it comes back for the last chorus… I guess not :(
6/10, surprisingly mid considering they released this as a single
The Club (Feat. Rain)
��2006” didn't this come out in 2007? Maybe he recorded it in 2006
Rain with the grunting lol
I quite like the vocals in the first verse here
Is he just gonna grunt the whole song? Are they gonna give him a verse or something?
Here we go, here’s the verse we wanted
Lol this vocalist is so fun
7/10
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Left Behind
Pairing: The Bad Batch x Reader (Polyam)
Summary: After staying with Roland Durand, you make up with the team and head out on another mission
Warning: Angst, some fluff, ANGST, injury, Imperial!Crosshair at the end, mentions of shooting and violence, Bad Batch spoilers ig
Word Count: 2445
A/N: I’m kind of on a writing kick rn lol
pt xx, pt xxii
XXXXXXX
You woke up to the sun reaching your eye-line. It was an odd thing to wake up to. The sun barely shined into the flat Cid was letting the Batch borrow, and there was barely any sunlight on Kamino to wake you up either. You sat up in the bed and let the silk sheets pool around. If it wasn’t obvious already, you had stayed the night at Roland’s, deeming it a bit late to buy off a speeder and head back to Cid’s. Beeping came from the communicator of your armor, which made your heart skip a beat.
“Ah, kriff…” You muttered before getting up and grabbing it, “Hello?”
“Where are you?” Hunter asked with a hiss in his voice, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine… I’m still in town.”
He sighed and you could basically hear him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Just… try to get back before the sun is at its highest point or else Echo is gonna reign hellfire on the city to find you.”
You nodded, “Yeah… got it.”
The communicator went dead as Roland walked in wearing a new set of clothes.
“Good morning, how did you sleep?”
You smiled while still looking at the communicator, tossing it slightly in your hands, “Like a baby…”
He observed your movements and his face fell, “Duty calls?”
You nodded, “I should go.”
“Alright… I’ll have a few of my guards escort you. Get ready, I’ll be waiting downstairs.”
“Okay…” You whispered as he walked out.
*******
You made your way out of the building and found a few guards waiting in a speeder.
“Where’s Roland?”
“Dealing with some business. He said to take you back to Cid’s.” One of them explained which caused you to nod and get into the speeder. It wasn’t long until the speeder pulled up in front of Cid’s parlor, where Hunter was talking with Echo and Wrecker. You hopped out of the speeder and waved them off before they pulled out and turned the corner.
“Ad’ika! There you are!” Wrecker grinned before picking you up into a tight hug.
“Hi, Wreck.” You smiled as he set you down and followed them inside.
Tech was sitting at the bar with Omega, showing her something on his datapad. He glanced up at you, then pulled out his blaster and aimed in your direction. The others had done so and were facing the threshold, which made you turn. Roland was standing there in one of his guard’s uniforms, holding the helmet under his arm.
“I’m not here to take your things again, don’t worry.” He said nonchalantly.
“Why are you here?” Cid wondered, leaning against the bar.
He didn’t bother to answer her as he turned his attention to you, “I had to see you were safe…”
You shook your head, “You shouldn’t be here…” You urged back into the threshold, “Please, go…”
“Lodestar…” He whispered, stopping your motions and holding your hands, “You’re welcome anytime, you know that?”
You nodded, not looking into his eyes, “I know…”
“Be careful.” He whispered, kissing your knuckles and leaving the parlor.
You stood in the threshold for a moment before making your way into the parlor.
“So you’re working for anyone now?” Cid asked maliciously.
“I didn’t do a job for him…”
“Well, then what the hell were you doing?”
“Nothing. If I did a job, I would’ve given the money to you.” You admitted, placing your helmet down.
“What did he want?”
“Nothing, he has no interest in your parlor anymore.” You murmured.
“If I catch you slipping up again, you’re out! I don’t care what these boys say!” Cid stated which caused you to nod. A hand was placed on your shoulder and you turned to see Tech.
“Darling-”
“You’re right…” You said plainly, “You shouldn’t trust me.”
“Lodestar-” Echo started.
“I… should have never left with you.”
“Don’t say that, ad’ika.” Wrecker pleaded.
“Cyare…” Hunter murmured, going up to you, “you’re struggling… with something many people struggle with. We aren’t gonna give up on you just like that…”
“Tech was drunk, and whether he likes it or not… he’s not always right.” Echo insisted.
“For once, I agree with that statement.” Tech remarked.
“Please, don’t go.” Omega whispered, “You’re our family. We need you.”
You looked at her for a moment before nodding. She hugged you tight and you hugged her back gently.
“Okay! Enough with the hugging! It’s hurting my eyes!” Cid groaned, “I guess you can stay in touch with Roland, be a double agent or somethin’.”
You smiled gently, but then Omega spoke up.
“What was with the hand kissing thing?”
“Yeah…” Hunter crossed his arms,”What was that?”
You rolled your eyes, “Nothing happened. I guess… he just has slight feelings?”
“Slight?! When we were held hostage, he couldn’t keep himself away from her!” Omega laughed.
“Omega!” You exclaimed.
“You can stay friends with him… but make sure he isn’t too comfortable.” Echo instructed.
“C’mon… you really think I’d give up the four of you for one of him? It’s gonna take more than sweet talk and a four course meal to get out of your hooks.” You crossed your arms. Wrecker laughed and scooped you into his arms.
“That’s our girl!”
All of you headed towards the Marauder and you looked around in confusion.
“Wrecker, where are you taking me?”
“Ah, we have a mission!”
“Seriously? Huh, I guess your enhancements help you recover from hangovers quicker…”
Wrecker set you down once you were all loaded into the ship.
*******
You were looking over some data on the computer while Omega was working on some wiring on Gonky and Hunter was sitting next to you, flipping his knife around.
“We’re being hailed.” Wrecker called out, “It’s from Rex!”
You all looked at each other before heading into the cockpit. Echo opened the transmission on the projector and you saw Rex in a large cloak.
“Hello, boys. Sorry to get right to it, but I could use your help.”
“What do you need, Captain?” Hunter wondered.
“I’ve received a distress signal from a clone trooper, but I’m a bit tied up at the moment to retrieve him.”
“You want us to recover a reg?”
“He’s an old friend, and he’s in trouble. I need you to get him out.”
“Out of what exactly?”
Beeping went off in the transmission, which caused Rex to get frantic, “Can’t talk right now. Sending you his signal. I’ll be in touch.” Then the transmission ended.
“What was that about?” asked Wrecker.
“The distress signal sent by CC-5576 is originating from Daro: a terrestrial planet in the Outer Rim with no known settlements or installations.
“What’s he doing all the way out there?” You wondered.
“Well, does it matter?” Echo asked.
“We’ve gone on missions before without intel, this is stretching it.”
“Rex wouldn’t ask us for help if it wasn’t urgent.” Echo insisted.
“Echo’s got a point.” Wrecker agreed.
“May I remind you that we are in the middle of a job for Cid. If we deviate, we will not be compensated. No money means no food.”
“Oh yeah, Tech’s got a point.” Wrecker said.
“But Rex’s friend is in trouble, that’s more important than getting paid.” Omega butted in.
“Well, the kids got a point.” Wrecker finalized, which caused you to chuckle.
Hunter hesitated before having a small staredown with Echo. He sighed gently, “Lodestar, what’s your say?”
You sat back, “I am ‘Lodestar the Liberator’… you already know my answer, love.”
Hunter nodded, “Fine. We’ll check things out.”
You all nodded in agreement and prepped for Daro.
*******
Tech landed the ship and you all trailed out, following Tech as he tracked the clone’s signal. You looked around, staying behind the group in case of any surprises.
“The signal is coming from here.” Tech announced, which caused Omega to go ahead and find the beacon connected to a large log.
“Found it!” She handed it to Tech.
“Where’s the reg?” Wrecker looked around. Hunter took off his helmet and looked at the ground. You crouched when you felt some uneven earth.
“Hunter… track marks.” You announced, “Fresh… maybe from last night or early this morning.”
“We’re too late… the reg’s been caught.” Hunter concluded, “He was running, then he got dragged this way.”
You all followed him as he moved further towards the mountain just nearby.
“There’s something here.” Hunter looked up at the mountain.
“You’re right. There’s something jamming my signal.”
“I thought you said there was nothing here!” Wrecker exclaimed.
“That data appears to be inaccurate.” Tech stated.
“Wrecker, you, Omega, and Lodestar head back to the ship.”
“I thought-” Omega started.
“Coming here was up for debate. This is not.” Hunter said sternly before turning to you, “I need you to help fly the ship just in case Wrecker needs to bring in heavy fire.”
You nodded and urged Omega to follow Wreck back to the Marauder. Before you went to join them, you grabbed Hunter’s helmet and bumped it with his gently.
“Be careful…”
He nodded before urging his brothers to the mountain. You watched them for a moment before heading back to the cruiser.
Omega paced in the shuttle while waiting for her brothers to come back. You were adjusting the scope on your helmet while Wrecker sat back in one of the chairs.
“Meg… come here.” You called, which caused her to hesitate before she stood in front of you. You let out a small laugh and caressed her cheek, “Y’know who you remind me of?”
“Who?” She asked grumpily.
“Me.” You smiled, “I was never allowed to go with the others on the field… they made sure I stayed on the ship.”
“They’ve been on so many missions, how could you stand it?”
“I trusted them and they trusted me… of course, I was worried, but they ended up coming back at the end…”
She groaned, “I’m a part of the team now! I should be a part of the action!”
“Dealing with bugs on Ord Mantell wasn’t action? Or co-piloting a shuttle?”
She sighed, “It was, but I want more!”
You chuckled, “You really are a clone at heart… always ready for the action.” You sighed and cupped her face, “But even clones your age need some preparation and training before going into big battles.”
“The clones who are younger than me look as old as Rex!”
You shook your head, “Patience, ‘Meg… there will be a time when you will lead them… right now, we wait.”
She sighed and nodded, going back to her pacing. You went back to cleaning up your armor as you all waited. Eventually, you were in the main part of the ship tending to D-5.
“Maybe let’s not leave you in the mount next time, D-5.”
“D-d-d-damaged?”
“It’s not bad, buddy. Your balance module is just out of place again, and you bent your antenna.”
You finished fixing him and set him next to Gonky, “Stay there, okay?”
“O-o-okay.”
You shook your head and spoke to yourself, “Why do I expect him to listen?”
You made your way into the cockpit, seeing Wrecker and Omega doing the same thing.
“How can you be so calm?” Omega burst at Wrecker.
“I’m recharging! I’ll be ready to go when they call!”
Suddenly, the comm channel opened, “Wrecker! Omega! Lodestar! Meet us at our location!”
Omega got into the pilot's seat with Wrecker, “We’re on our way!”
You stood behind them, hanging on to the back of the chairs.
“Focus, Omega! Stay steady!” You instructed.
“Got it! We are on approach!”
You headed towards the hatch and opened it, pulling out you blaster and stunning the troopers behind them.
“Meg! Get closer!” You called, hanging onto the threshold. Wrecker came to join you as you helped Tech and the other clone onto the ship. You heard an approaching ship.
“We’ve got incoming, 6 o’clock!” You called to Tech, who took over the ships controls.
“Wrecker, get on the gunner’s mount!” Tech ordered. You nodded to Wrecker as you shot at the incoming troopers. You hopped off the ship to help them fend off the attackers as the ship swooped out to avoid the airfighters.
“I said stay on the ship!” Hunter ordered.
“Well, do you want me to jump off the mountain and fly to them?!”
He shook his head as you helped Echo fight off some troopers.
“We’re coming back around! Be ready!” Tech announced on comms
The ship pulled up and Echo jumped onto the ship as you and Hunter shot at the troopers. You looked back to make sure he got on safe, getting hit in the arm in the process.
“Ah!” You were flung back by the blast, losing your balance.
“Lodestar!”
Tech maneuvered the ship to try and catch you, but to no avail, you were already off the platform. Hunter tried to jump for the edge of the ship to catch you, but he missed and he too fell down the cliff.
“Hunter! Lodestar!” Omega called, but Echo grabbed her and urged her into the ship.
As Hunter fell, he tried to dampen his fall by latching into the mountain with his knife, but it wouldn’t hold. He had landed just before a clearing and looked up to see where you fell.
“Lodestar!” He called, “Lodestar!”
“Multiple system failures, we can't take anymore hits!” Tech said on comms.
“Get the ship out of here! I have to find Lodestar and we’ll get back to you!”
“Negative, the odds of escape are not in your favor!”
“I’m not leaving her behind! Go Tech! That’s an order!”
He looked ahead, seeing a shuttle land multiple troopers approaching.
“No! Turn around!” Omega cried, “Hunter, tell them to come back! Order them to come back!”
“Sorry, kid… I can’t do that…” Hunter sighed before sheathing his dagger and surrendering to the troopers.
*******
Crosshair arrived with his squad and looked to the commanding officer who approached him.
“Commander, the other clones got away but we have their leader.”
“What about the other girl?”
“Troopers reported she fell off the cliff. She’s most likely dead.”
“And if she isn’t? That woman has connections all over the outer rim. Do you want the Pykes or the Hutts to be involved with our affairs?”
“N-no, sir.”
“My squad and I will find her with help from your troopers. Get a shuttle ready.” Crosshair ordered and watched as the commanding officer rushed off.
“Commander, do we really need the girl? Isn’t the leader enough?”
Crosshair sneered at his squad member, “Like I said. She has connections in the outer rim. She’s valuable. We aren’t leaving here without her.”
XXXXXXX
Taglist:
@darkangel4121 @lightning-wolffe @alucas528 @rintheemolion @shadowfoxey @butch-medusae @gabile18 @incandescentlywarm @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000 @spidercrush3
#the bad batch#the bad batch x reader#tbb polyam series#treesnutsandleaves writes#bad batch#bad batch x reader#tbb hunter#tbb echo#tbb tech#tbb wrecker#tbb omega#tbb crosshair#hunter x reader#echo x reader#tech x reader#wrecker x reader#crosshair x reader#tcw#the clone wars#clone force 99#star wars#sw
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Day Zero: Hey guys! My name is Ashley, and I’m starting this blog because I’m going to start going to the gym soon. I’m not that out of shape, but I decided it would be nice to tone up a bit since summer is starting soon. Just get rid of a little pudge from winter y’know? Maybe I’ll even meet someone special with my new bod. I’m gonna do a 30 day diet and exercise challenge don’t worry I’m not going to post every single day, but every couple of days just so I can give a show of my progress. This is gonna rock!
Day Three: Jeez! This whole working out thing is so much harder than I bargained for. I’m sore all over and I miss junk food, eating salad all the time is already lame, but I’m gonna keep with it. I can’t give up after only the third day.
Day Five: Week one is done! I was almost ready to quit after day #4, but there was this guy at the gym who was in really good shape and he offered me some encouragement to finish out my workout and some advice to help me get the most out of my workouts. He was there again today and it was nice to have some help with my sets. His name is Josh and he’s been going to this gym for a while and he said he likes helping out the newbies. He gave me a bottle of vitamins from a company that he buys from and said it would really help me out. It was the male formula, but I mean it’s not like it’s gonna hurt me. They’re just vitamins right?
Day Eight: I got a really killer workout in today. Ever since I’ve been taking those vitamins that Josh gave me I’ve had so much energy and getting through the workouts hasn’t been so hard. I also met a few of Josh’s buddies and they’ve started working out with us too. They’re a great group of dudes and are super encouraging. I’m also feeling more competitive, I guess you could say. Like the guys are challenging me to do better. I’m actually starting to like going to the gym.
Day 10: I’ve kinda been dragging lately even with those pills. I told the guys and they started grilling me about my diet and I told them what I’ve been eating, and they told me everything I was eating wasn’t good fuel for weight loss and I wasn’t getting the energy I needed to keep killing it at the gym. The advise that I start eating more meat, and Josh recommended that I get some whey protein from the company that makes the vitamins. If it works like those I’d say it would be worth it.
Day 12: Hell yeah! I just finished week two and I look amazing! My stomach is flat and I’ve got ab definition. The hard work at the gym has definitely been paying off. That being said I’ve been feeling really hot and tense lately just kind of...pent up. The guys told me that I might want to get laid or masturbate just to let some steam off. Normally I’d be kind a pissed if a guy told me that, but I have been feeling hornier than normal lately, seeing people check me out and tell me how hot they think I am really gets me going I guess, and all of their other advice has helped so far. When I got home from the gym I decided to watch some porn to get me in the mood, which was weird because before I started going to the gym I never like porn. I thought it was degrading, but for whatever reason watching it now was making me soak my panties. It felt great jilling off, but once I put on some girl on girl porn and that really helped me get the big O.
Day 13: it was one of my rest days, so I decided to take it easy. I popped one of my vitamins like I do every morning. The initial dose that Josh gave me was gone. I bought more, and yeah I could have bought the female formula, but I kept with the male version. I’m pretty sure it was stronger and if it works why change? I went to the café by my apartment to grab some coffee while I was out for some errands. There was a seriously hot chick working the counter. I could see her checking me out so I flexed a little without being too obvious. She was blushing and giggling, so I decided to ask for her number, and she gave it to me! I’ve never hit on a chick before, for that matter I never really thought I was into girls but it felt so right, and I couldn’t help staring at her rack, fantasizing about what she was like in bed. Oh yeah I’m definitely enjoying the perks of my new physique.
Day 19: The guys sent me a workout playlist on Spotify. At first I didn’t like it. It was heavy metal, but I found that it but me in the right headspace for the workout. After a while I started to dig it and I’ve been jamming to it all the time even when I jill off. The guys are really awesome and I feel like I owe them big time for helping me get everything out of the gym. I need to think of a way to thank them.
Day 23: I’m starting to get pretty shredded. I’ve been hanging out with the guys a lot more too. We go out drinking on the weekends and get hammered, sometimes we go catch a game at Hooters. To thank Josh and the Bros for helping me make it this far I’ve been taking care of them all the time. To help them relieve stress after a long workout I’ll let them take turns fucking me, whenever we watch a football game I’ll usually give them all blowjobs during halftime. This one time I bet my ass that the Cowboys would win, and of course they lost, but Josh’s cock felt so good in my ass! The guys have been pretty supportive of me lezzing out too, especially since I share all the details and videos of my escapades to our group chat.
Day 26: I still have an off and on thing with Dinah, the hottie from the coffee shop. Anyway she’s been coming to the gym with me the last few days. I got her a bottle of the chick formula vitamins and she’s not building a lot of muscle but she’s looking really good, especially her ass. I think her rack has been getting bigger but that’s a plus for me! I’ve found that I have a thing for babes with big tits. She’s also been listening to my workout playlist. She’s so submissive lately, and there’s nothing better than when she got her head buried in my snatch. It’s so awesome having her there as my little gym bunny, and when I flex she turns into a blushing mess. I gotta go. Got a date with Dinah and she’s bringing a friend. If I’m lucky we can convince her to join us for a three way.
Day 30: The challenge is over and I’m jacked! This was the best decision I’ve made in my whole life. I’m in terrific shape, I’ve made awesome new friends, I’ve got a hot as fuck girlfriend, who’s cool with me having a few side chicks. Looking back on my old posts it’s weird how much I’ve changed. I’m just like one of the guys now, and I love it. I couldn’t imagine hanging out with the prissy girly-girls I used to, some of them were pretty hot though, so maybe I’ll call them up sometime. Me and the boys are going to a strip club tonight to celebrate my progress. I should take Dinah. It would be hot if one of the strippers would make out with her while me and the guys watch! The boys will probably want to pregame with a gang bang, but that’ll be good cardio so I’m totally looking forward to it! Anyway, signing off.
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the shakes | p.d.
summary: “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.” Or, you’re experiencing the terrible side effects of being horny and Poe Dameron knows just how to fix it.
WARNINGS: SMUT (18+), oral (fem!receiving) and just a whole lot of banter, bruh poe is just feastin TONIGHT, sprinkle of plot
pairing: poe dameron x fem!reader
word count: 5.1k
a/n: uhhh so,,, heh,,, enjoy. bc smut.
“Ow, fuck.”
“You’re stepping on my foot.”
“My bad. It’s not like we’re stuck in a fucking closet.”
“Who’s fault is that?”
“Yours.”
You breathe out through your nose, struggling to contain your annoyance as you try to back up away from man but no dice. Instead, your back jams awkwardly against the busted control panel.
Said control panel is one of the reasons why you’re stuck in a closet with a man you met only twenty minutes before. Other reasons may or may not include you, the man mentioned, and a certain droid both of you are supposedly waiting on.
“You said that droid is coming?” you grunt as he lets out a heavy sigh against your collarbone. You’ve been squished in a four by four foot supply closet for the past twenty minutes at least and there’s barely enough room as he reaches around to jam the button again. “That’s not going to work,” you say pointedly and he scowls at you, pressing the button again.
“BB-8’s coming,” he growls. “He’ll know I’m missing.”
“Oh, thank the Maker for that!”
“Do you have a problem?”
“Uh, yeah. You’re breathing in my air, in my general vicinity.” A pause, and then: “Can you breathe in any other direction?”
In response, he sucks in a huge breath and lets it out in one big exhale towards the vent above them before glancing down again and arching a brow as if to say, Happy now?
You are most certainly not.
“At least this gives us a moment to breathe. It’s better than being arrested,” he says as if offering a ceasefire. The man leans away from you and you sigh, readjusting the strap of your short dress. His eyes are determinedly staying on yours but even you know they’ve dipped the few times your back was turned. “We can get to know each other.”
Not that you haven’t been thinking about his ass all day either. You spotted him earlier in the markets today, even if he hadn’t noticed you, with that orange and white droid rolling around behind him. Cute and memorable.
What can you say? A good looking guy tends to stick out in a crowd.
“I think I’d rather be arrested,” you say as you lean against your own wall and tug at your dress where you think it doesn’t fit too well. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?”
“You mean, you don’t lock lips with any random handsome stranger?” he fires back. “I’m hurt.”
“Right. You know what I meant.” You nod to the chip in his pocket. “What do you wanna do with that?”
“Top secret, Snatch.”
“Snatch?” you repeat, frowning. “Never mind. I’m sure it’s a secret you can share with me.” At this, you push off the wall and, by the limitations of the closet, stand in his space. Dameron straightens up, an unimpressed smirk printed on his face. “So?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It could be.”
“It really couldn’t.” His nose brushes against yours and his soft breath tickling at your lips makes a hot spear shoot into your gut. You can taste the sunfruit on his breath, the sweet swipe of his tongue across his lips and your eyes narrow as his chest presses against yours. You don’t budge from your spot as a curl of his dark hair falls into his eyes. Almost automatically and before you can register what you’re doing, you reach up to brush it back and he catches your wrist before you can, grin growing. “I knew I recognized you.”
“I’m so happy for you,” you reply dryly. You shake his hand free from your wrist and back up against the wall, crossing your arms. “I’ve seen you in the markets a few times. The only eye-candy way out here,” you admit grudgingly, thinking of the weird fantasies you had about the guy you dubbed ‘The Man from the Market.’
Not your most graceful or catchy nickname, or your most dignified moment, waking up to soaked panties and a flustered sensation glossing over your skin, but you also didn’t expect to see him again. At this party, no less, of some merc bastard and his friends.
“Likewise,” he says, eyes dropping from yours to your lips and then darting up again. He chews on his lip, as if fighting back that cocky smile before he adds, “You’re the only thing that’s caught my eye in the past two days.”
“Charming.”
“Hm. Poe Dameron.”
You glance at the unopened door, sighing out a, “Good for you,” as you cross your legs at your ankles. Dameron only frowns, turning to the door and you observe the darkness around you. You can’t really make out anything but the solid shape of your fellow closet companion. You can’t even make out his features too well unless he’s extremely close to you, and even then, it’s a guesstimate.
You’re going to kill Yvonna. If she wants the intel, she’s going to have to pay you double the credits.
The darkness seems to crowd in on you and you take a deep breath, the heat of the room getting to you. You feel sweat gather underneath your arms, in the creases of your thighs, and maybe it’s the alcohol getting to you, but you swear your feet aren’t attached anymore. They’ve been strapped to some stupidly high heels to accentuate your legs and it's gathered in a trembling pain in your calves now that you’ve a moment to stop moving. You want to keep moving. It’s the dancing in your stomach, the strange flutter in your lungs, the involuntary clenching between your legs.
Normally, you’d be fine but right now…
God, it might’ve been something you ate. You don’t know, but right now, you feel like you’re a hollowed out piece of scrap.
“C’mon, BB-8,” Dameron murmurs as you let your head drop back against the wall. Your eyes slip shut and it’s not too different from the darkness surrounding.
Maybe it’s cause you haven’t seen Krieg in a moment which is part of the reason you’re here. Hasn’t given you a chance to take the edge off and you’re so full of this energy that needs to be spent or you’re going to die in this closet, in that ship…
You needed to do something.
Your eyes open and see the shape of Dameron’s head.
Or, someone.
Yes, you had kissed him first, pushed him into this closet, let his hands wander, but that was because a guard was coming and you weren’t about to get caught red-handed.
This fucking sucks.
“My friends call me Y/N,” you say glumly, your fingers gingerly tugging at the hem of your skirt. An uncomfortable slickening is occurring down there just thinking about that kiss that occurred in a time when you weren’t stuck in a closet, and you can’t help but think that Dameron was a good kisser.
Give credit where credit is due, all that bullshit.
“Y/N, huh?”
“I said my friends,” you reply pointedly. “Associates and otherwise know me by my callsign.”
“Which is?”
“Bandit.”
“How original,” he mutters almost under his breath and you roll your eyes. The burning in your gut spreads like a fan of fire, following where your knuckles press against your thighs as you try to adjust your dress to fit comfortably, but it’s too damn hot and you shift again, catching his attention. “You okay? Not afraid of the dark, are you?”
“No. It’s just… it’s just hot in here,” you mumble with a scowl directed at your own body betraying the way his arm bracketing you on one side of your head is radiating a heat you want to choke on. “When did it get so hot?”
“When they started serving spiced whiskey?” he tries and, this time, your scowl is directed at him with another poison to kill a small snake. “Maybe you’re having the Shakes.”
“The…” You blink, and you’re not sure if your eyes are adjusting to the blinding darkness or if you can actually see him clear as day when he bends his arm and leans against the wall by his elbow. You don’t move away and his breath, searing, tingles at your sweating neck. The drawling exhales only serve to send more thigh-clenching spasms into your stomach and you shoot him a weak glare. “The what now?”
“The Shakes,” he repeats as if he’s totally unaware of what he’s doing to your body. Maker, he must be able to smell it. There’s no way he can’t because you can feel just the effect of him being so close to you has done and— “You know.”
“I, uh, I really don’t.” If he knew a fraction of what his voice did to your panties, he would not be talking right now. Or he’d be talking more. You don’t know which one you want more.
“Oh, you know, when you haven’t had sex in a long time. I call it the Shakes. Every little thing sets you off, you get cranky and flustered, you’re all wired up and your gut feels like the first time you go into hyperspace.” He sighs, and you hear the quiet thump of his head resting against the wall. Y’know, darling?”
“Hm?” you hum, distracted by the index knuckle running over your cheek.
“It makes you distracted.” You can hear his smirk and you roll your eyes with a scoff. “It’s why I call ‘em the Shakes. Throws everything off, doesn’t it?”
“Stars, you love hearing yourself talk, don’t you?”
“You know, I see the it often enough that I can recognize any poor soul suffering from a mile away,” he says, ignoring you. “And you’re sick with it, Snatch.” Casually as if he isn’t lazily tracing the shell of your ear with his hand now, he chuckles. You close your eyes as if you’re not critically aware of every desire to pull him into another hard kiss, every little movement of his body from the way he leans to the way his fingers flutter around the curve of your jaw.
You’re a fucking fighter, though. You’re not about to hook up with some random motherfucker in a closet.
Even if the random motherfucker is the hottest thing you’ve seen in who knows how long.
Holy shit, you think your gut might explode with how hard you’re trying to keep it together so you say the first thing you can think of related.
“I didn’t get sick the first time I flew into hyperspace. I didn’t get sick the first time I did an aileron. I, uh, I really don’t get sick when I fly at all,” you say, eyebrows rising skeptically. “Do you?”
Confused: “No. I’m a pilot.”
“Oh. And you get the Shakes often, then? Wedged in the seat for hours on end,” you ask conversationally, managing to keep your tone in check. Dameron chuckles at your question, but he pulls back. Your thighs press together and something lurches at his withdrawal, wanting him near again but you silently push those urges down. “If you’re so wise to depart your knowledge with me, that is.”
“You’re a funny girl. Nah, you just get used to it when you’re busy doing other things.”
“Other things?”
“Hm, well, let’s say I have a busy job, and that’s pretty much my whole twenty-four-seven schedule.” He comes close again, close enough that his lips brush against the delicate skin before your ear and shivers shoot down your spine like waves of electricity and you stiffen. You know he hears you suck in your breath, the tiny hitch of your chest and he chuckles again, almost amused.
“I think… it’s…” Maker, please forgive me for my utterly hedonistic will that has the strength of melted bantha cheese. “Fuck, I think it’s physically impossible to ignore that you’re horny.”
“I didn’t say that,” he corrects, lips whispering over your skin. He tilts his head. “I said you get used to it.”
“Well… n-normally, I’m pretty fucking good at that.” You bite your lip and lift your head to the ceiling, thighs pressing together and straightening up but the sound of your dress dragging against the wall gives you away. “When... people aren’t around.”
“People?” he echoes. “You alright, Snatch?” Fuck him. He is definitely enjoying this.
Well, fuck. Might as well, right?
“The Shakes,” you say in a very steady tone that is betrayed by the absolute ocean swimming between your thighs, “may have found residence here.”
“Hm.”
“That funny to you?” you ask, feeling his smug fucking smirk against your cheek and turning to look at him. His dark eyes glint somehow in the non-existent light. You just know it’s there. A cocky spark.
“Explains why you kiss like I’d melt away between your fingers. It was a good kiss, by the way. You’re a good kisser,” he adds, “but more passionate than I thought you’d go for, considering all we were trying to do was evade the guards and that fact that up until that point, you were trying to pickpocket me.”
“I was trying to get the chip. And I think the pushing into the closet was a good touch,” you defend as he rotates around and cages you against the wall. You stare defiantly back. “He went away, didn’t he?”
“But that just implies something.” His elbows are on either side of your head and he leans in, low enough that you can feel the sound of his voice, his sweet breath against your aching mouth. It’s one thing to admit it but another thing to act on it. Maker, are you really about to—
You know what?
Fuck it. Your panties are ruined, you need this fucking annoying heat out of your system and he’s fucking right about one thing: you’re hornier than a Lucrusian fengrill in heat.
What do you have to lose?
“Why just imply something?” you ask innocently as his lips brush against the corner of your mouth. You sigh in relief when the heat seems to sink, spreads through your body instead, and his shadow brushes against your skin as he moves lower, lips finding your chin, the curve of your jawbone. “Oh, fuck…” you choke out, your hands finding his hair automatically, threading through the dry locks and his name slips out in a breathless moan. “Fuck, Dameron.”
His body jerks at the sound of his name coming from you and your eyes widen when his hips press flush against your thigh. His bulge is hot and hard, the fabric of his pants silky against your bare skin and you let out a soft sound when he nudges your head up. His hands run over the walls, find your shoulders, your waist, tugging at fabric that sticks to your skin before continuing elsewhere, and you’re not even breathing as he licks at the pulse point, the sweat, the alcohol glazing your skin.
“Shit,” he breathes against your neck, teeth running along the vein as his hand sneaks underneath the hem of your dress, skirts around the edge of your panties and it’s the brush across the absolutely soaked spot that does him in, does you in because you know he felt you clench around nothing. “Fuck, I can feel it—”
“Shut up,” you groan, wrenching his head up and smashing your lips against his. He sighs into your mouth, hips grinding against yours as you take a handful of his curls. You yank him back, your lungs seizing for air. Everything tastes like sugar and starfruit as you push him down to his knees, your calves burning. “My feet. Ow. Fuck these heels, honestly.”
“I got ‘em.” His hands immediately find your ankles, running smooth circles into your skin but before you can tell him the strap is on the outer side of your leg, he lifts your foot up. A protest stammers in your throat as he reaches up and presses you against the wall with a large hand flat against your tummy, but he merely smirks against your thigh, letting your knee hang off his broad shoulder. “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.”
“Dameron—”
“Relax,” he drawls as your back meets the wall flush and cold. You grab onto the handle of one of the mechanical drawers, wincing when his hand digs into the sore muscle on its way up to stabilize your thigh just as the other on your stomach travels down. “Got a nice view, don’t you?”
“Would be better,” you grit out, “if I could see.”
“Need me to pull out my glow-in-the-dark condoms for you?”
“Dameron.”
“Kidding. Well, only half. I do have some back on the ship.”
“Dameron.”
“Alright, alright. Next time.”
You can’t even see the silhouette of his face anymore, gone underneath the hem of your dress, but you shake your head anyway, lip caught between your teeth as you feel his hand slide up and down the one calf still planted firmly on the ground.
You take a breath and let your head fall back, your ravaged neck pulsing, your entire world spinning.
It happens all at once. When his grip on the thigh resting on his shoulder tightens, when he lifts your other leg over his shoulder, when he surges forward, his lips finding your soaked panties immediately, teeth nipping lightly at the fabric.
Your entire system shuts down.
He noses up higher and your thighs wrap around his head, ankles hooking. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, clutches at your ass really, and your fingers in his hair tighten when the dress begins to ride up higher, revealing more of the gorgeous man between your legs.
Oh, how you wish there was some sort of light in here so you can just—
There’s one shaky breath, then another, and there’s no movement which you’re only painfully aware of and your eyes open—when did you even close them?—as you look down. “What’s wrong?”
“I just wish I could see you, darling,” he breathes, kissing the top of your slit and sending a warm shiver through your gut. “Fuck. The way you’d look when I finally chase the Shakes out of you—I’d ruin you. Ruin you and then some. Eat for days.” And then his teeth return, barely skimming the soft flesh of your navel as they hook on the waistband of your panties and tug, his breath following down your thigh as he works on pulling it down, slowly, luxuriously, his lips soft as they press teasing kisses in the crease of your thighs, land tiny nips to the juncture of your hips. You spasm at every turn, wiggle and squeeze until you’re sure you’re cutting off the circulation in his neck, but he doesn’t give any indication that he cares.
No, he just holds you against the wall, your legs tossed over his shoulders, and grins.
You don’t know how you know.
You just do so you don’t know why you stutter out, “You g-good?” anyway.
“Fucking perfect.”
Maybe it’s so you can hear that voice, low and deep in his chest, between your legs.
He leans forward and his nose bumps into your clit, and, as if on reflex, a warm, strong tongue darts out and licks a solid stripe through your heat. “Fuck, darlin’.”
Definitely so you can hear that voice between your legs.
“You’re heaven, y’know that?” he mumbles but you can’t quite focus, your hands gripping at anything you can—one in his hair, the other on that handle and your back arches when he just goes for it, mouth to clit contact, tongue probing and licking and stroking all at once. “Think ‘m gonna die if you don’t drown me first.”
“W-way to i-inflate a girl’s—fuck…” Your voice goes hoarse midway, as if he sucks it out of you, and you can feel the air in your lungs going with it as your back arches off the steel wall. You can feel his jaw, sharp and strong and warm, flexing against your thighs as he works, tongue velvet, lips teasing and he inhales deeply as your legs tighten around his head.
His fingers dig deeper into your ass and you choke back a pathetic moan when his teeth raze your swollen bud lightly, just enough to tease you and keep you on edge. Everything is cotton. The shadows, his hair, his rough hands that are full of calluses you don’t know the meanings of.
Your nails scratch his scalp, tug him impossibly closer and you’re biting through your lip right now, your moans bundling in your chest as he pushes deeper, pushes you closer against the wall as if he wants more of you but can’t quite reach and you want to just let him continue, let him have his fun because you’re sure he can go down on you for hours but—
You’re only human, and the tide comes so quickly you fucking know for sure two things: Dameron knows what he’s doing and Dameron knows what the fuck the Shakes are.
A slight brush of his tongue at your clit and you’re gone. You’re on that downhill slope that sends a spiral of chain events through your body. Your thighs lock around his head and your fingers tighten as lightning shivers and lances through your limbs, sending your heart up into your throat and pulsing between your legs. Your gut clenches, so desperate to hold on that you can’t even breathe, that the only thing you can stutter out is some bare semblance to his name followed by ramblings of “fuck” slewn with more “close… close… so, so close…”
Your eyes are screwed shut, your mind scrambling to concoct an image—an image that would be reality if the lights were on and you can almost see it. Poe Dameron, with his dark eyes, raven hair, plush lips and a beard that scratches against your skin, on his knees with your legs thrown over his shoulders, his hands, huge and veined and strong, grabbing at what flesh he can, head gone underneath the hem of your dress and you can only feel what he’s doing—
You don’t even recognize him chuckling until you can feel the vibration of it through your knees, against your leg.
“Darlin’,” he pants, drawing back just enough to breathe and he tilts his chin just enough to press a sloppy, slick kiss against the soft flesh of your inner thigh and he laughs again, entertained at the desperate little whine that comes outta your throat because the image would’ve been just enough if he kept going for a second more, “gotta let me fuckin’ breathe if you want me to stay down here.”
“That’s…” You struggle for words because you’re heaving so hard, so out of breath because you didn’t even know you weren’t breathing for several seconds. “That’s—it’s, oh, shit.” Your thought process is disturbed by another teasing lick at your swollen folds. “Dameron, if you don’t let me just fucking—”
He nips at the juncture between your thigh and your soaking, swollen cunt.
“Watch it.” You retaliate with a sharp tug of his hair and he only laughs again, soothing the bite mark with a few gentle kisses.
“Just keeping you on edge, darling,” he whispers, peeking up from underneath your dress for the first time in what feels like hours. You run your hand blindly down his face and feel the slickness on his chin, swiping it off but his teeth catch your thumb, and then it’s his tongue wrapping around your fingers, too, sending fluttering shivers through your stomach. He licks them dry before he lets go and your hand finds his hair again as he sighs, disappearing between your legs again, and you barely hear it, a nearly indecipherable mumble that sounds more like it’s coming from inside your head that his own mouth, “Anyone ever told you… you taste like heaven?”
“And how would you know?” you gasp, feeling a little giggly yourself as the crest begins to rise, your chin tilted up as his tongue flattens against your slit. He hums to himself, the curve of his jaw brushing against your tender thigh as he pulls back just enough to speak.
“‘Cause I just tasted it, darling. And I know I could just feast on you for days.” Your entire body tenses as he laughs into your cunt, the ripples of it against your sensitive skin shooting through your spine and you’re on that downward spiral again as his smiling mouth attaches to your bud and his tongue dips into you again.
You’re dripping. The sounds are obscene, filthy to the nth degree, and you’re so close that it aches. You want to thrust but you can’t risk toppling the man you’re resting on the shoulders of, but at the same time, you know he’s teasing the ever loving shit out of you with his shallow passes, his fluttering kisses.
Taking his sweet time, indulging in it. You’re pretty sure if he could make do on his promise to eat you out for however long you’d let him, he would, but you’re half-aware of where you are, that the droid is supposedly coming, and having half-a-brain is half-a-brain too much to lose all common sense.
“Dameron,” you whisper, and he pauses, looking up and you wish you could see his face, the face of a man who stopped at the mere utterance of his name that it sends a thrill through your overstimulated system. “Please.”
There are no further words needed.
He works you up to it slowly, until your fingers are clamped so hard and you’re seeing stars despite there being nothing but shadows around you. The only sound is the wet slop of his mouth working against your drenched pussy, your moans and his heavy breathing that fans out across your navel.
It’s when his tongue pushes so much deeper, and curls, that your thighs clamp down around his head and your fingers are gripping so hard you’re not sure you’re going to make it without a few nail cuts in your palms that you know the Shakes are gone.
Your entire world flips as your vision goes black. Your fingers curl tighter, your thighs begin to quiver, and everything snaps inside you. Your back arches off the wall and you feel like you scream but it’s because your voice is so utterly broken that it seems so as he continues to drink through the floods, drawing out the aftershocks for as long as possible and the euphoria that shoots through you like a blaster is both molten and cool as spring water.
Your vocabulary is nothing but his name, soft breathes of “fuck” and “shit”, and the unrelenting “thank you”.
Your heart rattles against your ribs, beating so quickly you think it might burst from your chest and you feel another quivering sigh escape your lips as Dameron gives you a few more gentle sucks to your messy centre before he’s slowly running his hands up your thighs, to your knees, and gently sliding your legs off back to the floor.
Your body is trembling so hard that your knees nearly give in immediately, but, luckily, Dameron’s hands find your waist and ease you to the ground just as you let go of the handle of the drawer.
“Fuck,” you croak ungracefully once your ass is on solid ground and you gulp down nothing but air as you try to open your eyes. It’s not that different from your closed vision and there are a few white stars blinding you in the dark, but you can still make out the shape of your partner, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand before he’s leaning over your leg to check the control panel. It’s then that you can feel it, pressed against your shin. He’s hard as a fucking rock. “Y-you need—” But your voice is a garbled mess, exhausted from the alcohol and the Shakes, and he turns to you, fingers dancing up your calves before slowly pulling your ruined panties back up your thighs.
“Up,” he orders quietly, and you lift your hips up enough for him to slip them firmly back onto your hips. “And it’s fine. I told you. I’m good with the Shakes.”
“Yeah, but, y’know…” you mumble, “could be good.” You can feel him smiling as he leans over to kiss your neck blindly, still finding that tender juncture of your shoulder. You grin, your hands finding his shoulders and roaming his back, feeling the curved muscle of a military man. You know his type.
Continuing downward, down his sides…
“You do owe me,” he murmurs and you nod as he pulls back just as the sound of beeping on the other end of the door.
“Mhm, don’t wanna stay in debt,” you say just as the sound of whirring fills the heated silence and your grin grows as you expectedly raise one of your hands to shield the light about to fill their little closet. You pull your other hand away and you begin pulling the loops out on your heels, sliding your aching feet out of those torture shoes. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again in the future, huh? Pay you back then.”
The door slides open and you stand as he scrambles to his feet as well. At least, you can see his features clearly, and you grin because he’s just as handsome as the first time you saw him.
Absolute score.
With your fingers hooked on your shoes, you wipe the bit of slick he missed on the corner of his mouth. He grabs your hand before it drops, pressing a cheeky kiss to the center of your palm and you roll your eyes.
“That’s fine with me,” he replies, squinting against the light and you tap his cheek.
“See you around, Flyboy.” You flash him one last smile before leaving the closet first and walking down the hall. Your knees are still trembling and you feel like you’re a complete mess as you stagger through the metal hallway. Exhaustion is telling you to just go the fuck to sleep right then and there, but you can’t. Not until you get back to your ship and get into hyperspace.
As soon as you’ve rounded a corner, you run with everything you have.
It’s only a matter of time before Poe Dameron realizes that the chip that was in his pocket is making its way to another buyer.
Yvonna totally owes you.
#fic: the shakes#poe dameron#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron x you#poe dameron fic#poe dameron fanfiction#poe dameron imagine#poe x reader#poe x you#sw#star wars#star wars x you#star wars x reader#star wars fanfiction#star wars fic#poe dameron smut#poe x reader smut#star wars imagine#star wars smut#my writing
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I’m Horrible at requesting things but can we get a yandere jotaro with a s/o whos the sweetest thing in the world? Like jotaro just wants to protect the bby. By protecting he means locking them in a basement with no sunlight or human connections that isint from him 😬 thx a bunch!
mwah, ofc!
IF YOURE NOT 18+ GO AWAY TYSM
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Yandere!Jotaro Kujo Headcanon & Imagine
You met Jotaro around the same time Koichi did. You were a senior in school, your credits completed and your classes short, so you always had a lot of free time through the day.
You’ve had your Stand, Iron Maiden, since birth. Unlike other stand users though, you didn’t use yours very often. You simply loved to love people, your kindness making you a shining light to everyone around you.
& After everything that unfolds, Jotaro’s presence all of a sudden became more and more persistent. Jotaro would sit by you everywhere, asking you little questions about things you liked, flowers would show up on your nightstand at home, surprise little dates to the beach with him at night; Jotaro was treating you better than any man ever did before.
So when he suggested that you move away to his estate to live with him, there clearly was one answer; after all, your house was completely empty after you had came home, all of it packed on a trailer being worked on by Josuke and Okuyasu. Jotaro kissed your cheek, reassuring you this is exactly what you’re meant to do, his hands caressing your cheeks. After his sweet honeyed words, his gentle touches, you let him put you in the front seat.
——————————————
{Requited Love, Requited Insanity}
You sat on your king size bed that you shared with Jotaro, petting your cat Jam Jam who gently slept in your lap. The estate was absolutely giant, even though you & Jotaro lived in the penthouse below the surface. No windows, no light, simply electricity & Jotaro. That’s all you had.
Honestly, you were loving it! The estate was absolutely beautiful, Jotaro had a full library stocked for you to read from, all your records in a safe place for you, Jotaro paid for Jam Jams vet appointments and arranged for her to be expedited to you, giving you your small little companion back.
The only thing you missed were the people. Koichi, Josuke, Okuyasu, all of your pals, you haven’t seen them since the day you left Morioh. But that’s okay! Jotaro always takes good care of you, between making sure you have what you need & feel at home, he even put in an alarm system to make sure that the only one who can open doors is him, all because he doesn’t want you to slam your finger in one of the doors!! How sweet is he??
You heard the main door open above, footsteps coming down the stairs to the penthouse. Jotaros footsteps weren’t easy to miss, & certainly didn’t stop after he came through the door. His eyes softened as he saw you, throwing his hat on the shelf and his briefcase on the table. He raised up his arms as you ran into his chest, squeezing him with all the might you could muster. “Welcome home, honey!”
Jotaro smiled and kissed your forehead, “Thank you baby, I missed you a lot today. Did you have a good day with Jam Jam?”
You smiled brightly, “Yes I did, we watched a nature documentary while we napped together!”
“That’s good baby, I’m glad you’re getting sleep like a good girl.”
You followed Jotaro down to the kitchen, seeing two bags of takeout on the counter. “I figured since I have the next few days off, we could give you a break with cooking for a few nights. You’ve done really good cooking dinner for us, you deserve a break.”
You looked up at Jotaro smiling ear to ear, your heart swelled with admiration of how thoughtful he was. “Thank you so much Jotaro, that’s so so sweet!”
Jotaro helped you make your plate & got you both situated on the couch. You both talked about his day and yours as you ate, taking time out to pet jam jam as she walked by every now & then.
After about an hour of watching Jotaros pick of his favorite documentary, you spoke in a small voice up towards him;
“Jojo, how long have we been living here?”
Jotaro kept silent for a moment, careful not to say anything rash. Your delicate mental state & soft heart have been molded to his perfect little darling, & he couldn’t ruin that.
“Around 6 months, I’d say.”
You sat Jam Jam on the floor, angling yourself to look towards Jotaro, whos eyes were trained on you & looking at you with adoration. He knew if he was to keep you in his grasp, he had to answer all of your questions, and had to do it right.
“Why can’t I go outside?”
“The outside is dangerous, sweetie. There are a lot of bad men out there who don’t like me, and because I love you so much, they don’t like you either.”
Your face saddened at the thought of someone not liking you. You’ve never even hurt anyone, even when you had the chance to kill, you always chose the nicer way to do things. “Okay. I’m sorry for asking you so many questions, sometimes I don’t know how to explain certain things to myself.”
Jotaro sat you up & helped you stand up, “that’s perfectly okay, angel. As long as you are here with me, you are safe. I promise that.” You nodded as you grinned up at him, clearly satisfied with his reply and his praise.
Jotaro grinned down at you, kissing the back of your head as he steered you back to the bed, looming over you as he pushed you onto your back. “I had the aquarium to myself today. ‘Was thinking how nice it would’ve been if you were there.” His lips grazed over your ear shell, making your thighs clench together as adrenaline shot to your core.
“W-whys that?”
Jotaro chuckled darkly as he snaked his arm around your backside, holding the back of your head in his hand while his other one gripped your thigh, slowly making its way to your heat. “Because all I wanted to do was bend that perfect cunt over my desk and fill you til you were swollen.”
Your cheeks flamed red as you bit your lip in excitement. Jotaros thumb skimming over your tucked in bottom lip, attaching his to the side of your neck. You couldn’t keep in the moan that escaped you, between the pressure on your neck that would surely leave a hickey & Jotaros palm rubbing circles on your core.
“Perfect little whore for me, arent you?”
Silence. SLAP.
You yelped as his hand made contact with your ass, arching yourself into both of his hands. “Answer my question, you stupid fucking slut.”, he growled in your ear.
You moaned and hid your face in his muscular neck, his black hair tickling your eyes as you took in a shaky breath. “Yes sir, I’m your perfect little whore!”
Jotaro smirked down at you as he forced your legs open, gripping the flesh of your thighs in his fingers. “Y’know Josuke used to tell me how badly he wanted to bend you over. Him & Okuyasu both.” He unzipped his pants, pulling down and exposing his rock hard cock. Your breath hitched at the sight, excitement swelling in your stomach.
Jotaro lined himself up at your entrance, his thumb gently rubbing over your sensitive clit. “They don’t know how many times they’ve almost had every bone in their bodies broken.” He thrusted his cock all the way inside you, your moans filling your bedroom as you gripped the sheets to cope with the intensity.
“Mmh good girl, yeah just like that, take every inch of me like a good fuckin whore.”
Your moans became screams and begs for him to slow down and to stop as he tunneled into your cunt, not giving you any mercy. “Yeah good fuckin slut, good girl taking my dick- f-fucking christ you’re gonna look so good covered in my cum.”
Your stomach tightened as you gripped onto Jotaros arms, your cries asking him to please make you cum, please let you cum like a little whore, everything Jotaro wanted to hear out of his little darling.
“Mmmfph FUCK yeah good fuckin slut, cum all over my cock!”
His filthy mouth sent you over the edge as your intense release shook your entire body. Jotaro lazily pumped himself in & out of you, telling you sweet nothings in your ear as your overstimulated brain calmed down. Jotaro hilted himself inside you, finally cumming inside your sensitive womb. His large hands running over your glistening body help you up and into one of his T shirts, and laying you under the covers of your bed.
You were his. Only his. He had broke you and remade you so, so perfectly. He loved you so much it drove him into the most dangerous kind of madness; the requited one.
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THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING DARLINS!!🦋✨🌈🌸
#jojos bizzare adventure yandere#n/s/f/w jjba#vento aureo#yandere jjba#yandere jotaro#jotaro joestar#jotaro kujo
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Like an Open Book VIII
Part 1 | Part 7 | Part 9
A/N: Hi everyone! I’m sorry for the long hiatus! I mentioned in my previous updates that life has been a roller coaster and the pandemic isn’t helping at all. But I’m slowly getting back on my feet and I actually enjoy writing again lately. So here’s the long awaited update for this story! <3 I hope everyone is doing great, stay safe guys!
Also, I tried something different in the start, I hope ya’ll don’t mind! :D
MASTERLIST
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the Potterverse!
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E c h o e s
Your mind was like a cave that had voices bouncing off its walls; echoing deeper in its crevice.
You’ve lost yourself in that cave countless of times before, each one was not a moment you looked back on fondly. Now you’re back and it seemed like the rocky walls of thoughts were closing in on you.
C l o s i n g r i g h t in
Covering your ears didn’t help, but you did it anyway. People were running amok; children were being separated from their parents, friends were losing each other in the crowd and you couldn’t focus even if you had to- the voices in reality was being mixed with the ones in your head.
Everyone was screaming.
You felt someone pull you away just as a flash of green hit the spot where you just stood.
You didn’t even know who he was.
“Y/N, are you all right?!” The person shook you, and you looked into hazel eyes that were wide with worry and fright. His hands held you by your shoulders in a vice-like grip and you were pretty sure he wasn’t even aware of it himself. “Stay with me. Focus on me.” His voice left no room for argument and you found yourself keenly aware of how close your bodies were. If the both of you weren’t stuck in this life or death situation, you would’ve turned into a million shades of red right now.
The both of you were hunched back behind some bushes, shielding you from the sight of any Death Eater around the area. He pried your hands away from your ears, his eyes never leaving yours, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
You didn’t realize you were crying until now, but everything in your head seemed quieter as James Potter’s thoughts drowned everyone else’s away. I’ll keep you safe, we’ll get out of here, we’ll get out. You breathed in a shaky breath and got your wand out of the pocket of your hoodie. “I won’t let anything happen to you too.”
-FIVE DAYS AGO-
You and Remus shared a look as the three boys who sat across from you devoured their ice cream as fast as they could; seems like the concept of brain freeze was foreign to them.
The five of you were currently at the ice cream parlor Remus had mentioned in his letter. He was quite surprised when the lot of you arrived, quite the contrary to when you, James, and Sirius had gone to get Peter; the blonde was quite ecstatic, having already packed his stuff. It was as if he was already waiting for you guys to arrive even though none of the boys had sent a word beforehand of the plans.
The parlor was jam-packed with people trying to escape from the heat, it was a miracle that you even found seats to begin with.
You heard a series of hushed whispers and giggling and you turned to see the girls from the neighboring table eye the boys with you, particularly Sirius. It was something to get used to- gathering the attention of people by being associated with these four, and you didn’t know if you’d ever get used to it.
Remus gained your attention soon enough by asking how the boys were able to get you to go with them. James had no problem retelling the entire endeavor in your stead though, saying that you glossed over the best parts and to let the pro-storyteller do the talking. Much to your dismay and embarrassment, he had included the part where you nearly fell off Sirius’ bike on the way to Peter’s.
Remus’s chuckles died down as he grinned at you, “Cheer up Y/N, I’m sure you’ll get a hang of it soon enough.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him, “Yeah, no. I’m not riding that thing-” You pointed your spoon to the motorbike parked right across the street under some tree for shade. “-ever again.”
Sirius grinned at you but before he could get a word out, one if the girls had arrived at your table, a confident glint in her eye and a light blush across her powdered face. “Hey.” She greeted.
A chorus of hey’s and hello’s rang out from your group in reply.
“Um, so my friends and I couldn’t help but notice you guys and we just wanted to ask if you lot wanted to hang out back at my place? We have a pool and everything and we could just chill y’know?” She flipped her long, silky blonde hair back her shoulders.
You tore your eyes away from her and saw Peter awaiting the other’s answer, you knew he wanted them to say yes without even having to look into his mind. Remus looked uncomfortable while James and Sirius shared a look.
“Sorry, but we’re kind of busy later.” Sirius drawled out smoothly. “Y’see we’re only here for a couple of hours before we leave.”
Disappointment flashed in her eyes but she still looked quite determined, “Well what about we hang out right now? You guys can order another serving of ice cream.”
Sirius beamed at her, his perfect white pearls showing. “Sorry lovely, but we’re kind of in a middle of something.” It was James who replied this time. He had also stolen a spoonful of your ice cream, sighing in delight of the cool treat.
The girl turned away in a huff, angry at the rejection. After everyone was done eating, you guys stood up to leave, you followed behind the boys, not at all that eager to get out of the cool building and into the scorching heat.
“I don’t understand why you guys came all the way out here to get me when I could’ve just used the Floo network to get to James’.” Remus said once the five of you neared his house.
“And pass up the chance to try out my new bike? No sir.” Sirius snorted.
“Besides,” James started, “We wanted to try that ice cream shop you mentioned in your letters.”
You trailed behind them as you listened to their conversation, kicking some pebbles out of your way. The heat was beating down you with the afternoon sun and you could feel the sweat trickle down your forehead, which you hastily wiped away. The walk to Remus’ house was fairly far, probably because his parents thought it was better to isolate themselves (albeit not totally) due to their son’s condition.
“You alright Y/N?” James asked as he matched his pace with yours, his three friends talking a few feet ahead of them. He fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and ran it through your forehead. “I guess you don’t do well with heat?”
“I just haven’t been outside for a while.” You replied and flushed as he dabbed his handkerchief behind your neck. You immediately took the hankie from him, “Icoulddothatmyselfthankyou.” You hastily blurted. You missed the amused smirks the three boys threw your way having just witness the scene because you were busy being too self-conscious about yourself to notice.
When you reached the humble home of the Lupins, his father Lyall Lupin, greeted all of you warmly while his mother, Hope, sat by the dinner table, a book on her lap as she drank her afternoon tea. “You must be Y/N,” She smiled fondly at you before Remus could even introduce you. “You’re much prettier in person than from the photograph.” She held out her hand and you reached out to shake it, confusion evident on your face.
Sirius beamed brightly, “Pardon me, was I hearing things or is it true that Remus keeps a photograph of Y/N?” He turned to look at James in amusement, the bespectacled boy looked absolutely annoyed with this new piece of information.
“Mother, honestly,” Remus whined, “I keep a picture of all my close friends. You’re giving them the wrong idea.” Hope laughed softly, apologizing for teasing her son.
The Lupin couple nonchalantly agreed to let Remus visit the Potter residence, they were glad he was going out to spend time with his friends actually, completely different from your family who just wanted you out of the house because they didn’t want to deal with you.
James, Remus, and yourself would be taking the Floo Network from this point while Sirius and Peter would continue the journey using Sirius’ bike just because it wouldn’t fit inside the fireplace. James headed towards the Fireplace first while Remus said his goodbyes to his parents.
“Have a grand time, son.” Lyall patted him on the shoulder while his mother gave him a hug. “Take care, Remus, have fun.”
You turned away and approached James instead of lingering around the family. “So,” you started, “I heard you had a lake behind your house.”
He grinned at you, “You been asking about me?” You could practically feel his ego inflating with the very thought.
“No,” You deadpanned, “Remus just told me you guys take dips there every summer.” You answered, wiping the grin off of his face. He furrowed his brows at you and his mouth formed a thin line. Was bringing his huge head back down to earth really that bad? You waited for him to reply, and he was about to, but Remus arrived at that moment, his backpack slung over his shoulders, he took his place beside you which irked the raven-haired boy more.
You arrived at the Potter’s residence without a hitch, and Fleamont and Euphemia Potter greeted all of you, already expecting your arrival. They gave you the extra bedroom to yourself while the boys would be sharing James’ room. James had already taken the liberty to deposit your bag there while Euphemia brewed tea and baked cookies for everyone.
“Is there anything I can help with?” You asked the aging lady as she scurried about the kitchen. Fleamont and Remus were at the living room playing Wizard’s Chess.
“Oh, you can place the cookies on a plate Y/N dear, I think they’ve cooled down now.” She answered, flashing a motherly smile your way. Such a pretty, young lass.
“Thank you.” you answered, flushing from the compliment.
Euphemia looked at you questioningly, “Whatever for, dear?”
Oh. You mentally smacked yourself. Why the hell did you keep on doing this? You should really pay more attention. “I mean, for having us over.” Nice save.
Euphemia waved you off, “It’s nothing dear. Friends of Jamie is always welcomed here. Thank you also, for putting up with the boys, I know they can be a handful sometimes, but they’re good lads.”
“Something smells heavenly in here.” James’ voice boomed as he entered the kitchen. Before you could transfer the cookie to the plate, James appeared right beside you and took a bite. You turned to him but was taken aback by how close he was that your noses were nearly bumping each other. Whatever you were about to say was forgotten as you could feel your blood rush to your face.
He was so close that you could see the golden specks on those ocean eyes behind his dark-rimmed glasses. Someone cleared their throat and you immediately moved back, keeping your emotions and you Legilimency at check. Because whatever that feeling was that glazed on the eyes of the boy, you didn’t want to know.
“You two seem close.” Sirius’ commented, his shit-eating on that obnoxious face.
“Oh, sod of Pads.” James retorted as you busied yourself, obviously feeling awkward about whatever just happened.
“James, mind your manners.” His mother scolded as Sirius approached the older woman and greeted her with a hug. “Had a safe ride, Sirius?” She asked.
“That’s right, not one itsy bitsy accident.” He replied and took a cookie from the cooling rack. “You still make the best cookies, Euphemia.”
“I’ll take these to the others then.” You mumbled, Euphemia calling out a thank you before you completely escaped the kitchen.
You took your seat beside Remus after you set the cookies on the coffee table. They were just about finished with the game and Fleamont was losing.
“Okay?” Remus asked when you sat down, you flashed him ma smile and nodded, so he turned back to the game. “I think that’s checkmate, sir.”
Fleamont stared at the board for a couple of seconds before sighing in defeat; he held out his hand, which Remus gladly shook. “Good game as always, Remus.”
“Always a pleasure.” The brunette replied. James and Sirius entered the living room carrying the teapot and cups, setting the things down on table beside the cookies.
“I almost forgot!” Sirius exclaimed when Remus started pouring tea for everyone. He fished out a crumpled paper from the pocket of jacket and presented it to you guys. “A concert!”
You huddled together as you tried to read the fine print. “A Muggle concert.” You pointed out. You’ve never been in one of those, but you weren’t a fan from the get-go. Didn’t concerts normally have a lot of people?
“Sounds brilliant!” James took the poster from his best friend’s hands and read it, “It says it takes place 5 days from now at the next town.”
“I don’t think it’s such a good idea-” Remus tried to object, and with the concerned look he gave you, you know it was on your benefit.
“Oh come on, lighten up Moony. This will be epic.” Sirius argued.
“I-I agree, I think it’ll be fun.” You voiced out hesitantly and Sirius looked at you with a bright smile.
“See?! Even Y/N agrees with me. Don’t be such a sour potato and let’s just go to enjoy. It is summer after all.
“Are you sure?” Remus whispered.
“It’ll be fine.” You tried to convince not only Remus, but also yourself. It’ll be fine, what’s the worst that could happen, right?
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#james potter x reader#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#marauders x reader#harry potter fanfiction#the marauders#severus snape x reader#x reader#James Potter#Remus Lupin#Sirius Black#peter pettigrew#severus snape#Lily Evans#hogwarts
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One more @evanstanweek fill for today!
Prompt 6, “fluff” - 968 words, no warnings, anniversaries and breakfast in bed! (Technically a continuation, or rather the "a few months later, now that they're filming" follow-up, for prompt two, when Chris and Seb agree to film that gay rom-com! But you don't really need to've read that one first.)
Read at AO3 here, or on tumblr below!
#
Sebastian loves living with Chris. Sebastian loves filming with Chris. Sebastian loves rehearsing with Chris. Sebastian, in short, loves his entire life with Chris, not least because at the moment he’s got a day off, in Italy, with Chris.
They’re filming that luscious romantic comedy, full of heart and passion and emotion, Sebastian’s lonely wealthy vineyard owner falling for Chris’s wandering wayward author, under golden sun and blue skies, on shared picnics and villa getaways and lush lavish sex scenes on silken sheets. He and Chris have held hands on camera and off, have kissed on camera and off, have roamed rolling hills and tumbled around in long dry grass together.
He’s lounging in bed, in their small and historic but luxuriously renovated hotel room. They’d slept in; Chris had told him to stay in bed, had kissed him, had pulled on clothes and gone out with a mysterious, “It’s a surprise.” Sebastian had burrowed right back down under bountiful blankets and napped on and off. He likes being warm and cozy, though he does want to get up and explore this tempting fourteenth-century town. So many stories to see.
Speaking of stories, they’ve got a night shoot to get, later. Himself and Chris, as Alex and Ryan, going out to dinner.
It’s actually a complicated scene: Alex wants to give Ryan everything, his home and his wealth and his heart, but he’s not very good at words, more at gestures, and he’s been a private person for so long that a love confession’s difficult; Ryan’s finally been able to write again, and he’s writing about Italy, the words’re flowing, his agent’s talking about publicity and book tours and getting him to come home for meetings with people who suddenly want to adapt his previous novel, and suddenly he’s saying words about leaving and also about writing about them—
They’ll manage dinner, in public, but they’ll fight like hell, back at the villa. And reconcile, of course, in the best romance tradition, later on.
Sebastian’s not worried. He and Chris have practiced those lines, that moment. He’s not Alex and Chris isn’t Ryan, and they’re secure. They know each other inside and out, and that means they’re free to plunge headlong into all the emotions on set. It’ll be intense and powerful and liberating and fun.
The door swings open in an arch of carved wood. Chris appears, in sweatpants and a soft red shirt, with fluffy morning hair; Chris plus a tray of food appears, in fact, all beautifully arranged, coffee and eggs and avocado and toast and blueberry jam, which Chris has somehow found here in Italy, and there’s even a small rose in a vase. Red, and sweet.
Sebastian stares at it. Then looks up at Chris. Then points out, “I was already planning on sex with you, y’know, kind of a sure thing here, you don’t have to seduce me.”
“I know you’re my sure thing,” Chris says, coming over and putting the tray on Sebastian’s lap. “I also know you don’t know what day it is.”
“Um…Wednesday? Is Wednesday some sort of breakfast in bed day? I feel like I should know about these traditions.” He also feels kind of warm and fuzzy and helplessly soft inside. Chris has brought him breakfast in bed, and a flower, and Sebastian’s never known his whole entire heart could burst into sparkly metaphorical songs about roses, but it’s done that now.
“It is Wednesday,” Chris agrees, sitting back down with him. “It’s also our anniversary.”
“It is not!” Sebastian knows when their anniversaries are. All of them: first kiss, first date, first time falling into bed. First public announcement and acknowledgement: them together, facing the world. Even before that, their first I love you.
He loves all those anniversaries. Every one.
“It’s the first day I looked at you,” Chris says, “all those years ago, that first Captain America set, and you were laughing—you were so quiet, back then, at least at first—”
Sebastian snorts. “You just didn’t know me yet.”
“I said something stupid,” Chris says, “some joke, I don’t even remember, I was nervous and trying to not be nervous, y’know? And I know it wasn’t that funny, but you laughed like it was the best line you’d ever heard, and then you smiled at me. And I just—I didn’t even know what it was, back then, but it just hit me, like, right in the gut. The way you laughed just because you were happy and then you smiled at me like you really wanted me to know I’d made you happy, and your eyes were so—your whole face was so—and I thought, god, I could do this forever, y’know? I could do this forever, with him. Whatever that meant.”
“Jesus,” Sebastian says, a little weakly because he’s fighting back treacherous spilling-over emotions. “You know, if you’d said so then, we could’ve been doing this much sooner…”
“So I’m kinda slow, sometimes,” Chris agrees. “But I figured it out in the end. So…happy anniversary? Happy Wednesday. Breakfast for Sebastian in bed day. Sex with Sebastian in bed after breakfast day.”
“I love you,” Sebastian says, “Chris, I love you, you fucking hopeless romantic, kiss me right this fucking second,” and he’s trying not to laugh or cry or both, as Chris leans in with one hand steadying the breakfast tray, exaggerated caution alongside the exhilarating swoop of Chris’s mouth and the heat of Chris’s tongue.
He reaches up to pull Chris closer, tasting love and the scents of coffee and breakfast and roses. He breathes, as Chris pauses to nuzzle and nibble at his mouth, his jawline, “It’s definitely anniversary sex after breakfast in bed day,” and Chris laughs, and Sebastian thinks again, with all his heart, forever.
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So anyone that’s been chatting with me in the past week knows that I’m on a bit of a kick for Balan Wonderworld. A friend of mine has been livestreaming it, and I finally got my hands on it!...Only for my brother to kind of monopolize my Switch and play it for himself. ^^’’’ I don’t mind too much, but he’s probably gonna beat it before I do, the kid’s almost made it to World 7, just needs a few more statues for the train. Meanwhile I’ve only gotten to touch the game for the second time tonight, which has landed me searching for statues and beating the World 3 boss. But I’m glad he’s having fun, it’s awesome to share this game with him. He dances along to all the little celebration sequences, it’s adorable.
Today he went back and beat the boss for World 4, and he told me it had the same music for that dance sequence as World 2 did. I double checked just to be sure, and he’s right, it does! That strikes me as pretty interesting. I knew they reused the dance tracks for different bosses, but I never paid much mind to the order in which they’re repeated. Because it’s not a straight “123,” it jumps around a little more. It makes me wonder about the ties between the game and the novel. (This is where we get into spoiler territory.)
So I haven’t finished the novel yet (I get the sense I’m right before the final boss, much like my friend is for her game playthrough), but in it, every character has a different name. So our World 2 stage master, Fiona, is called Seagazer, and our World 4 stage master, Haoyu, is Skygazer. It’s established that these two have a close friendship since coming to Wonderworld, and they’ve got a lot in common. So the fact that their sequences share music makes me wonder if the others do too. So now I need to check. If you guys want to look too, here’s the other friendships:
Watcher and Sentinel (World 5 and World 8)
Clocktower Kid and Pensive Pierrot (World 6 and World 9)
Madam of the Mansion and Checkered King (World 10 and World 7)
If they have the same dance music, I’m gonna chuckle, that’s a really clever note game developers. I’d also like to say, dammit devs, some of the stories of these characters are so much darker in the book. Like, we find out Checkered King, the chess guy, lost his wife to sickness while he was too focused on trying to keep his title. Like oh my god, way to make me cry! Not all of them get fleshed out like that, but a lot of them do. Skygazer over there? He almost gets paralyzed in an airplane accident. Scarecrow, our good buddy Farmer Jose? He’s got a family, his home and crops are destroyed in that storm, and he’s afraid he’ll never be able to send his son to college. Madam of the Mansion has some serious issues with imposter syndrome as an artist (that hit me). Bugsy, our sweet little bug loving girl? I already loved her in the game, I identified with her as someone who had weird interests growing up, but when they go into detail about her laboring over these bugs for a class project, and everyone making fun of her for it, oh it hurt, it hurt a lot. And Lady of the Midnight Sun? Oh my gosh I cried the most over her. Her parents loved her dearly, and while going out to get her a Christmas present, they died in a car crash. She feels responsible for their death, and that hurts, that hurts so much. While I still have both of my parents, I can’t help but empathize a little with her and Clocktower Kid on the subject on death. I’ve been afraid of losing my dad since my 17th birthday, and I’m now 24. I know that even when his death does come, while I’ve been expecting it, it’s going to hit me harder and a lot worse than I think it will, and mind you, my imagination is scarily vivid. It all hits very close to home, all of the things they go through are very human problems.
That’s the thing I really love about Balan Wonderworld, but it’s also the biggest contrast between the game and the book: It’s a story about healing. In the game, everything starts out bad but ends up happy, but in the book, it starts off happy and turns out really sad. Honestly, you read the book for the angst and then play the game for the good vibes, ‘cause like, you can’t NOT smile at least a little bit while seeing these characters! In the book, everyone is so upset when you snap them out of their monstrous forms, angry and grieving now that they have the memories of their human, Earthly lives back, because they didn’t want to have to go through any of the pain and trauma again. Lance locked it all away, let them be happy, but it wasn’t real happiness. And it’s the moments where Balan pops in and tries to comfort some of these characters that really hit me. (Y’know, besides the lore point of him taking off his hat.) He sounds like he feels bad that this has to be done, but he knows that if he, Leo, and Emma continue to let Lance manipulate things, Wonderworld won’t be alright, and neither will any of the people who live there.
Balan makes it very clear that Wonderworld isn’t about being happy all the time, it’s about finding balance within your life, within yourself. Even though we go through difficult times, we have to keep going, we have to believe that there’s something better on the horizon, that we can move forward and make things better for ourselves, be it by charting our own path or working together with our friends. That’s a really positive message. We have to balance the positive and the negative, otherwise we won’t know joy for what it really is.
While I may not know how this whole thing ends, I have to say, I haven’t had this much fun with a game in a long time. 3D platformers are usually not my jam, I’m really bad at being precise (which has been a problem a few times so far), but this game goes at a slower pace, which is exactly what I needed. It’s so cheery and bright, super colorful too. Not gonna lie, I have a fanfic in the works already. ^^’’’’ Hope to share a lot of love for the maestro with all of you!
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𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧? - 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
Pairing: Manservant!Haz Osterfield x CEO!Single mom!Reader
HO Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist || Inspired by the Disney request from a while back
DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either products or the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After being unsuccessful in getting acting jobs, Harrison looks for a job to pay his bills. You’re a spoiled rich kid who abruptly becomes the CEO of your family’s company after your parents decided to retire early.
Special thanks to @fancyxholland for the banner 🤍
2,323 words
“Haz, what’re you doing?” Tom, Harrison’s best friend asked him. Tom Holland has been best friends with Harrison since they were 15. Both of them were aspiring actors, but they’re both struggling to get the parts that they want. Eventually, Harrison decided to find a real job. Thus, looking through the ad section on the newspaper.
“I’m looking for a job.” He shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal, really. He just wants to help his mum in paying the bills and since his acting career is dormant, he figured it’d be best to pursue something realistic and something quick.
Tom looked at him dumbfounded. He was in shock. Tom never thought Harrison, his best mate, would actually look for a job. “Um.. why? You have an audition to prepare for.” Tom pointed out.
“So?” Harrison said, not looking up from the newspaper.
“So?” Tom mocked and rolled his eyes. “It means you have no time to look for a job. You have to run your lines, memorize them, and internalize. Maybe get into character like a method actor or something, I don’t know! So, you can’t look for a job.”
“Joke’s on you because I just found one!” Harrison smiled and took off the cap of the marker with his teeth. He encircled the ad for working at a restobar as a waiter. He covered the marker again and put it on the table. He stood up from his seat and quickly went to his room to prepare his resume.
Tom quickly followed him and asked, “Aren’t you going to tell me what job you’re planning to apply for?”
“A waiter.” Harrison said simply as he typed away on his laptop.
Tom raised his eyebrows and nodded, “Okay. Well, good luck.”
“You should find a job too, Tom. We’re 20 for fuck’s sake. We’ve been auditioning for roles since we were 15 and nothing seems to be happening. Let’s just get a job, mate.” Harrison sighed in defeat.
“Fine.” Tom said, crossing his arms. “But let me just get through this audition I have tomorrow and then I’ll look for a job straight after that. I’m starting to go broke anyway and I’ll honestly panic if butterflies come out of my wallet instead of money.”
“Same.” Harrison laughed.
-
Harrison got the job. The restobar was desperate for people, so Harrison convinced Tom to apply there too and Tom got in as well. Now, they’re both working there.
The restobar was always busy and the customers tipped generously. It was great for Harrison and Tom. The restobar was more packed in the evening and during the day, families would have lunch there. The food was delicious and the staff is very accommodating. The restobar only had two floors and at the back, was the outdoor area where people could eat and have a cigarette. It was also there that jamming sessions would happen every night. It was awesome.
It’s late in the afternoon and Harrison was wiping a table clean after clearing the dishes. Tom was currently sitting on the bar stool at the bar counter while watching the news. At this hour, the restobar was low on customers and that gave the whole staff time to relax a bit.
Tom rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes and blinked when he saw the news about you; Y/N Y/L/N. Tom read the headline and his eyes widened. He turned to Charles, the bartender, and said, “Hey mate, could you turn it up a bit? Thank you.”
Charles turned up the volume a little causing all of the staff to pay attention to the news. Harrison, who just finished cleaning the table, was carrying the plastic box they put the plates in when he joined in to watch the news. He stood next to where Tom was sitting as the reporter rambled about you being the newest CEO of Y/L/N Inc.
Tom snorted, “Was it just last week that Y/N was found blackout drunk somewhere?”
“Yeah.” Charles laughed. “One of my mates told me that they saw her smoking weed once.”
Harrison looked at the two of them and shook his head, “That’s not very CEO-like, innit?”
“Sounds like a spoiled rich kid to me.” Jessica, the hostess, said. “If you Google her name, you’ll find endless articles about her lavish vacations and she’s profligate.”
“What does profligate even mean?” Tom asked as he turned to Jessica.
“It means she’s extravagant; she spends her money a lot on useless things.” Chazia explained and Tom nodded, satisfied with the answer.
“She’s filthy rich, though. She recently bought a small house in the Hamptons as a birthday gift for herself.” Elouise chimed in as she scrolled through her phone after Googling Y/N.
“These rich people will never learn, I swear. They think stuff is just handed to them because they’re rich. They’re all the same.” Hritz shook her head in annoyance.
“She’d never marry a poor bloke that’s for sure.” Luke said with a chuckle. “What a shame, though. She’s hot.”
“True.” Charles nodded in agreement.
“I mean, we shouldn’t judge her. What Elouise is seeing on Google right now are assumptions and one side of the story which means everything the tabloids say about her are just the side of the people who make those articles. We don’t know her story. For all we know, she doesn’t want to be a CEO. And while I agree that she’s spoiled, we should keep in mind that she was born into a rich family and she had no choice to be born into that family. With that being said, we should just let her be.” Harrison said before going to the kitchen to drop off the box of dirty plates.
“What’s up with him?” Charles asked Tom.
Tom shrugged and got out of the bar stool to check on Harrison. Tom entered the kitchen just as Harrison was about to go back out in the main area.
“Are you okay?” Tom asked and Harrison nodded. “Then what was all that rant about? Are you secretly Y/N?” He joked causing Harrison to break into a smile and chuckle.
“Nah. If I were Y/N, I wouldn’t be here right now.” Harrison said. “I’m okay, though. I really am. It’s just that I feel kind of bad for her, y’know? Everyone’s always watching her every move and judging her for it. She’s young too; she’s our age! She’s 20 and she’s a CEO already. I personally think that the reason why she’s being so reckless and extravagant is because she knew about her fate. She knew that she’ll be a CEO and that’s why she’s already living her life to the extreme. Because she knows that when she’s a CEO already, she won’t have time for anything else, not even herself.”
“I guess you’re right.” Tom trailed off.
“Of course I am. When was I ever wrong?” Harrison asked.
“When you dated Lea Berry. You were wrong about her.” Tom laughed and Harrison rolled his eyes at the mention of his ex.
“Yeah, fuck off.” Harrison shook his head and left the kitchen as Tom followed while laughing his ass off.
-
Being born into a rich family was definitely a blessing. You were an only child and growing up, you got everything you wanted. As you grew, you realized that it was rather lonely living in a mansion. Your only best friend was your personal maid, Angela and she was as old as your mum. Angela played with you everyday and she took care of you. While your parents loved you very much, they were never really around often. You were like Richie Rich basically. Maybe that’s why you loved that movie so much.
Your education was very… fancy. You studied at an international school for your whole life and you decided that you didn’t want to go to university because you didn’t know what you wanted to do. Your parents supported your decision and because of that, they’ve decided to retire early and leave the company to you. Now, you’re the youngest CEO.
In terms of your love life, you only had flings. Relationships weren’t your thing. In fact, your relationship with your first boyfriend only lasted for two months. After that, you had endless flings here and there. You also do one night stands because it was easy. You kept safe, though. Protection is always important.
Your friends were really nice people. They weren’t snobs and you adored that about them. You loved the fact that you were associated with people like them. They would give to charities often and they would do outreach programs in third world countries. Sometimes, you’d tag along if your parents aren’t dragging you to a boring fancy event.
You and your friends would go to different countries just to get drunk and forget about your rich kid lives. All of you loved running away from what society expected of you. Like every normal person, you loved letting loose. That’s why it pisses you off when people call you out for going out a lot because you’re a normal person like them.
“Y/N, darling, I hope you’re ready to take over.” Your mum told you. She was excited for you to replace your father in the business. She’s been waiting for it ever since you were born. Your father was kind of bittersweet because he wasn’t ready to step down yet, but at the same time he knew he had to let go at some point.
“Just promise me you’ll take care of the business.” You dad smiled sadly. You eagerly nodded and said, “I won’t let you down, dad. I’ll do my best.”
“I trust you, sweetheart.” Your dad hugged you and kissed the top of your head. He pulled away and you bid your parents goodbye. You looked around your dad’s old office as you watched your maids pick up box after box of your dad’s stuff. One maid grabbed the picture frame on your dad’s desk and you were able to catch a glimpse of the photo. It was a family picture.
“You can leave that here.” You told the maid and she put back the photo before packing up the last box and leaving you all alone.
You took a deep breath and sat down on your dad’s chair. You exhaled through your mouth and grabbed the picture frame. It was an old photo of you and your parents. You could remember that day like it was yesterday.
You and your parents were in New York for your dad’s business trip. You were only seven years old and it was your first time abroad. Of course, you didn’t want to stay in the office at all. You wanted to explore. So, you and your mum walked around the city and you arrived at Central Park.
Your mum bought you a hotdog and for some reason that made you really happy. About thirty minutes later, your dad joined both of you. All three of you played tag and somehow your dad ended up giving you a piggyback ride whilst your mum stood beside your dad, throwing her head back in laughter.
A college student who was studying photography was nearby and captured the moment. They approached the three of you and instead of getting angry for taking your picture without permission, your dad bought it from them. Now, that picture stays in his office.
It’s been years and your dad didn’t have the heart to replace the wholesome family picture. To him, he’ll always remember you as his little girl who loved adventure and meeting new people.
You rummaged through the drawers and saw an unopened envelope that had your name on it. You brows furrowed in confusion as you grabbed and opened it.
To my little girl,
The time has come for you to replace me and I can’t believe that time came early. I have to remind myself that you’re not little anymore, but I know you’re still the same girl I raised and darling, I raised you right. Your mother and I raised you right.
I won’t lie… this job is hard and tiring, but I know you’ll be able to push through. You’re strong and smart and tough. I trust that you’ll make the right decisions and I’m confident that our company is in good hands. One day there’ll come a time when you’ll step down and pass it on to your child and I’ll be gone by then. Just know that when the time comes, you did an excellent job.
My father wasn’t there for me when I needed him because he passed on and I had no one because my mother was busy taking care of my younger siblings. What I’m trying to say is that I’m here for you whenever you need me. Call me anytime.
Love, dad
Your heart warmed at your dad’s letter as you put it on top of your desk. You shook off your nerves, got up from your seat and walked out of your office. You stood outside your office and watched the staff as they did their job. You cleared your throat and said, “Excuse me? May I have your attention please?”
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at you. You gave them a nervous smile and said, “Hi everyone! As you may know, my father has decided to retire early. I’m his daughter, Y/N, and I will be replacing him. I’m not like my father and I know all of you loved him, but I’ll do my best and hopefully, we can all get along.”
Everyone just stared at you until one person spoke up, “You have some big shoes to fill in, sweetheart. Big shoes.”
You nodded and coughed awkwardly, “Alright, back to work people.”
This was going to be harder than you thought.
* * * *
After I post this, I’m removing everyone on my taglist and I’m making a new one. It’s 2021 and I gotta renew that shit. New year, new taglist.
𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @silencetheslaves @imeanlifesabitshit @joyleenl @hjoficrecs @blueleatherbag @poguesholland @harryismysunflower @lonikje @lizzyosterfield @turtoix @badreputationlove @starlight-starks @swiftmind @sovereignparker @pearce14 @justanamesstuff @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy @hotforharrison @euphorichxlland @givebuckyhisplumsnow
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @justasmisunderstoodasloki @allyz @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @theonly1outof-a-billion @piscesparker @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess @beequeen8020 @justafangirlduh @sarcasticallywitty15
#harrison osterfield#harrison osterfield series#harrison osterfield fic#harrison osterfield x reader#harrison osterfield x y/n#haz osterfield#haz osterfield series#haz osterfield fic#haz osterfield x reader#haz osterfield x y/n#in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh
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Blabbing about this Musician!au I started last summer that has now also turned into a marching band!au because I got sad and nostalgic because despite how shitty it could be, marching band defined my high school life and social life and I couldn’t had asked for anything else.
I also don’t have every single prequel character (because this au is surrounding the prequel characters) in Star Wars smacked into here, and I gave up halfway through a couple of months ago in terms of brainstorming. Anyways, this is hella long so check everything out under the line if you’d like! don’t want to spam everyone with something that’s like, 4 pages long
Now, you might be asking. What instruments are these characters playing, or what are they doing in marching band? well, boy oh boy do I have some lore for you.
Anakin Skywalker: alright lets start of with the “Chosen One”. Now, I gotta say. He’s got some intense brass vibes, specifically high brass. But I don’t know. He didn’t really mesh well. And given his natural talent with the Force in canon, I thought that Anakin would be a sort of prodigy. And we all know the two instruments associated with that: the piano and violin. He’s more of a piano dude, so here we go! piano prodigy Anakin Skywalker. He also gives mad drumline vibes, and I can see him as either the lead snare, setting the tempo, or the main quad player. He’s brash, slightly obnoxious, but damn is he fucking good at what he does.
Obi-Wan Kenobi: I literally started this AU on the idea that Obi-Wan would play the cello. One of the defining quotes for him is that fucking “infinite sadness” quote. And we all know that cellos play some of the saddest pieces out there. (see: Elgar cello concerto) However, I can’t see him as a marching band dude. He doesn’t really give off color guard vibes (since that’s where most non-band people go to) so I have him as the resident student helper who everyone tolerates because he brings ice cream after band camp.
Ahsoka Tano: Ahsoka is a flute player. As a flute player, I have intimate knowledge on this. She’s like the chill flute player who’s competitive enough to keep her position as principal, but is also chill enough to not have a big ego that butts heads with everyone. She also gives mad color guard vibes. Also speaking about that from personal experience (am I lowkey projecting my own experiences on her? you didn’t hear that from me). She seems like the type to love swing flags and sabre, and is 100% captain by senior year.
I have Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka as siblings in this AU because I say so. Qui-Gon is around here somewhere as the resident hippie dad who lowkey smokes pot and will support his children while giving a big ‘fuck you’ to Dooku.
Yoda’s also in here somewhere, and I love the idea that he’s an old Chinese/Asian man who refuses to speak english and will only do so with the most backwards grammar so his grandchild (Qui-Gon) and great-grandchildren (the trio) are forced to speak Mandarin/Cantonese to him (pick your poison). He just spends his days cutting up fruit and also might pull out his erhu if everyone asks nice enough. (I want to say he was a Peking Opera musician, but immigrated during Mao’s reign after he lost opportunities during the cultural revolution)
So, I know that it doesn’t make sense for a family to have 3 sets of twins and one triplet set, but fuck that I do what I want.
Cody Fett: okay so, Cody 100% plays the french horn. I don’t know, he just, he does. He’s got that air of sophistication because he can play the hardest brass instrument, but at the same time, he’s incredibly good at it and is matter-of-fact about it. He also would be the mello section leader (I was playing with the idea of drum major, but for now, leaving him as a section leader for now). He’s a bit uptight to be a low brass player, but cool enough to still be associated with the general brass group.
Rex Fett: I got Rex and Cody as the eldest Fett twins. Rex feels like a string player, so I have him on violin. I can see him be very hardworking and practicing diligently to the point where he easily sweeps through to concertmaster in high school and the local youth orchestra. He also gives of mad drum major vibes. I can see him copying music, handing out drill charts, and hauling the met around. Also, just think about Rex doing a fancy ass salute at competitions. Yes.
Next round of twins lets gooo
Jesse Fett: You could say Jesse has brass vibes. I see him as a reed person though. In concert band, he’s on clarinet. I used to think clarinets were as stuck up as us flutes but no they’re literally balls of chaotic energy ready to be unleashed. Just imagine Jesse blaming everything on his reed. I see him as the guy who switches to saxophone for marching band, though. He’s got the energy of the clarinet and the saxophone harnessed. Also, wouldn’t be surprised if he knows how to play the sousa.
Kix Fett: Y’know, when I originally made this AU, I had Kix as a musician as well. I’m gonna scratch that. He’s going to medical school, or at least, he’s planning to. He’s on the pre-med track and is dying in organic chemistry and wishes there weren’t so many pre-requisites. However, in high school, he definitely played the oboe. Of course Kix chose one of the hardest instruments to play. Also, just imagine him trying to make his own reeds. I don’t see him as a guy who’s in marching band. He’ll come to competitions and maybe football games if he’s bullied into it. Kix is the guy who’s classes are all AP and he’s dying inside.
Next round of twins yeet:
Fives Fett: shit, I forgot I gave them all real names. If I remember correctly, Fives is Frank. Anyways, trumpet vibes. Need I say more? He’s on the trumpet in marching band as well and he’s the dude who’s obsessed with DCI and always tries to play as high as he possibly can and absolutely demolishes his chops. I would say he’s section leader as well. He also hangs with the drumline at the back of the bus and always plays meme songs on blast and sends weird pictures to people’s phone via open airdrop.
Echo Fett: I think his birth name is Ethan??? I’m spitting thoughts not checking my old documents. Anyways. Echo feels like a string person. Specifically, low strings. So, he plays the bass. Upright bass. Whatever. You get what I mean. He sleeps in the case after school and hates hauling it everywhere. He was in marching band as a mello player (the easiest brass instrument to pick up for the activity so) but he was in a car crash that left him paralyzed from the hip down, and had to quit to recover. He never stopped playing, and found ways to adjust. (I do not know how exactly this would work, since I’m able bodied and also don’t play the bass, but I know he’d at least have a stool to sit on in order to lean his body on. let me know if you have other ideas i’d love to hear them!)
Finally, we got the triplets:
Dogma Fett: Dogma plays the bassoon. He’s a low reed kinda guy and between the bari sax, bass clarinet, and bassoon, he fits the last one the best. He and Kix moan over making reeds and he’s on the quieter side. He just vibes and plays all the low notes and has fun whenever he’s got some moving part. I see Dogma as someone who is only casually into marching band. He uses Jesse’s old student clarinet as his instrument and he’s always on time, knows his sets, and his technique is on point. He always finds himself roped into his brothers’ shenanigans though.
Tup Fett: Tup plays the harp. I like to think he met Shaak Ti (we’ll get to her in a bit) when he was young, and she was playing with an orchestra. He met her backstage and she offered to give him lessons. Tup’s not really a part of high school orchestra but sometimes he’ll be brought in. He’s more involved with solo work and the youth orchestra more than anything. Tup’s another on where I don’t think he’d be into marching band. Though I can see him being in winter guard as the dude who just shows up and is lowkey rip and therefore is a hunk on the rifle. His technique’s good but they’ve never been able to saddle him into fall guard.
Hardcase Fett: (i’ve given up on remembering the birth names so i’m just gonna not) Hardcase is 100% low brass vibes. He can’t be anything but a low brass. I see him as a tuba player. He’s chill, laid back, but also reliable for being the foundation of the band sound. He plays the sousaphone in marching band and always blasts either Seven Nation Army or some other popular show tune right after rehearsals. Hardcase also can play the bari sax and no one knows when he learned how to.
OKAY we’re done with the Fett’s! Jango and Boba are in here somewhere but honestly I don’t have enough brainpower to come up with what their roles are. Jango’s gonna be a good dad though. Maybe he was a musician and that’s why most of his kids are going into music. Or maybe he’s just a supportive father. Boba’s the youngest though, that’s for sure. And he’s a little shit. Don’t know if he plays an instrument (probably) or what it might be.
Now lets get into some other characters! There’s a lot. And I wasn’t even halfway done with the characters I wanted to include. What the hell was I on last summer?
Padmé Amidala: Padmé is a flute player who quit after freshman year of high school and started taking music production and music theory classes. She loved it so much that she decided that composing was her jam. Now, she’s highly successful and often works with well known pianist, Anakin Skywalker, on piano concertos. Also, she may or may not be dating said pianists but you didn’t hear that from me.
Satine Kryze: twosetters don’t shit on me but Satine feels like she’d play the viola. She and Obi-Obi-Wan definitely dated in high school but after a year broke up on mutual terms and are just good friends now. A lot of people feel like she’d have been a better political science/international studies major than a music major but she’s good so no one complains (until she gets into a fighting match with someone and wins smugly)
Bo-Katan Kryze: shes Satine’s younger sister and is a mad athlete. She doesn’t play any instruments but she’s deeply active and is on scholarship for college, on the pre-med track with Kix. She’s very scary and most people are too intimidated by her to approach.
Plo Koon: I originally had him as an asian man, but I can see Native American as well. He plays the euphonium and he’s just a sweet man. He helps out a lot with private lessons at local high schools and is often brought in to help with low brass during marching band.
Wolffe Koon: Wolffe and Gregor (get to him in a bit) were both adopted by Plo when their parents died when they were very young. Plo was their godfather and he took them in like they were his own. They’re cousins to the Fett brothers (though don’t ask me how I have no idea). Wolffe is an engineer and works close to home.
Gregor Koon: Gregor is Wolffe’s younger brother and had a short stint of musical interest in middle school but quit after he entered high school. Gregor was in a serious car crash during college that left him amnesiac for a year before some of his memories returned. He now owns a restaurant and sticks close to home. Wolffe often comes around to check up on him because his brain injury still impacts his current life in small physical and emotional dips
Kit Fisto: Kit gives off mad trombone vibes and it’s mostly because he seems incredibly laid back. He’s one of those brass players who’s just a nice guy and while jokes around, never got pulled into jokes as a student.
Shaak Ti: like I said above, Shaak Ti is most definitely a harpist. She has that ethereal quality I think is common in harpists. She’s a tall Indian woman and she loves her job! She’s a private lesson teacher and instructor at the conservatory on top of her job in the orchestra since she’s not called in often to play. She loves all her students and gives good hugs.
Mace Windu: Mace is the director of the Jedi Symphony, the orchestra which almost everyone is involved with. He is a bass player and he likes his more classical pieces over contemporary music. He’s good friends with Yoda and sometimes the old troll has to wack some sense into Windu and have him take on newer pieces. Windu 100% gives off unhinged director vibes because mistakes and lazy musicians definitely don’t end after high school/college is over.
Quinlan Vos: this lil shithead definitely is the obnoxious, slightly arrogant, but kind of deserving of that, percussionist. He loves his snare drum and is also in the drumline. He’s the same age as Obi-Wan and the two are close friends. Quinlan is definitely slightly unhinged and is always at the back of the bus causing havoc after competitions. He’s the guy that I (OP) hate but also can’t help but respect cuz yeah he’s annoying but at least he’s good.
Aayla Secura: Aayla is Quinn’s half-sister, and plays the French horn. Again, like Cody, she’s got this air of professionalism that I associate with French horn players and like, we gotta represent the girls in brass somehow. She just fits it really nicely.
I feel like now is the time to list who’s still in conservatory and who isn’t: Obi-Wan, Anakin, Rex, Cody, Jesse, Quinlan, Padmé, and Satine are all recent graduates. Ahsoka, Aayla, Fives, Echo, Tup, Dogma, and Hardcase are still in conservatory (at varying years of course). Kix and Bo are entering med school/frantically applying and banging their heads cuz MCATs. Wolffe and Gregor are older and have been in the field for quite some time now. Plo, Kit, Shaak, and Mace are all faculty/seasoned professionals.
Somehow, I was gonna bring in The Skiratas (with proper research cuz I know very little about them), Dooku, Ventress, the Oppress siblings, rest of Domino Squad, Cut Lawquene, the other CCs, and more. I designated a page out of my sketchbook for this and my oh my the flow chart was hella confusing. How I thought I was gonna handle that in the summer before my first year of college, I have no idea. Maybe I’ll brainstorm more in the future but for now, this is all I have :]]]
Also excuse some of my slightly unhinged language I started writing this a few days ago while slightly unfocused and tired and stressed so my language is a product of that
#star wars#meta#musician au#my thoughts#I miss marching band so fucking much#I miss DCI#and WGI#miss the community#even if it was pretty stressful at times cuz drama#people love their drama in band#I don’t blame them you get sick of people after band camp#star wars au
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HERE IS THE FINAL PART :)))) I really didn’t think it’d be this long but i’m happy with how it turned out! thanks for reading
warnings: angst, smut, implied smut, fem!reader, unprotected smexy time, im really bad w warnings guys plz help me
word count: +3k
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
Other than classes and occasional meals, you almost never leave your dorm though you hate it in there. Your roommate just moved in but keeps mostly to herself. The sun has set, casting a murky darkness over the campus. You’ve gotten into the routine of leaving the dorm around 11, the time where your roommate’s breathing evens and snoring starts. Not bothering to grab a sweater, you shuffle out of your dorm in flip-flops and your thin pajamas. It seems that your eyes are always burning and sore. The constant drum of ache courses through your body and as you wander around the relatively empty campus, your mind is blank.
Settling down on a cold bench, you stare up to the small white moon. It seems like you sit there for hours, staring before your eyes begin to prickle with hot, embarrassing tears. They travel down your cheek and get soaked up by your shirt collar.
“What are you doing here?” You whip around, furiously wiping your cheeks dry, though your eyes still water. Under a black hood, you can barely see his face but when he takes a seat next to you he flicks it off. Because you’re only used to Minho’s lust filled eyes, the genuine concern takes you off guard. He tries to lighten your mood by cracking a joke. “Y’know, I was kinda bummed when I woke up alone.” However, this only makes your lips twist and a sob choke out of your body.
His eyes widen, cursing under his breath as he reaches out to rub soothing circles on your back. “Shit, I’m sorry. I guess that’s not helping…What’s wrong, princess?” A bitter taste courses through your mouth and your sore throat painfully swallows. Looking at the ground, you whisper, “I’m fucked up. That’s what’s wrong.”
Minho’s head tilts in concern, “C’mon we’re all human. We all make mistakes and you can bet on your pretty ass that we’re all damn fucked up.” Though his words would cause bile to rise, you find yourself leaning into him, collapsing into his broad chest as tears spring into your eyes once again. “But what are you doing out here this late?” He continues, stroking the back of your head softly, “Just wanted to let it out without an audience?” You nod into his chest, letting your senses fill with his bright scent. “I don’t wanna go back into my dorm.” His voice causes rumblings against your ear, a dangerously enticing feeling. “If you wanna come back to mine, we can. We don’t have to do anything but you can stay if you don’t wanna be here.”
Nothing exists but Minho’s arms around yourself and his scent in your nose.
He lends you a soft hoodie and sweatpants which smell deeply of him. Minho strokes the skin behind your ear as you wrap your arms around him. Minho grips your arms as you kiss along his jaw. Minho tugs at your hair as you pull down his sweats.
You stare up at his ceiling, mindlessly stroking his stomach and wondering how you could loath yourself so much but let yourself have good things. Is it even a good thing? Would he want to touch you if he knew what pain you caused to other people? Minho’s arm tightens around you and he groans softly. “You still up, princess?”
“Yeah, sorry. I usually don’t sleep much.” When he rises, you try to tell him that you’re okay and that he can go back to sleep but he protests, “It’s already 6:30, I usually get up at 7, so I’m fine.” You sit in between his legs, his duvet tangled around you both when he asks you again why you can’t sleep. At this point, you don’t give a damn about your stupid walls and emotional protection because look where they’ve got you. “I fucked up real bad,” you tell him, choosing to look down at his hands. “There was this guy that really liked me but we were just fucking. I thought I just wanted it to be just that, but I didn’t tell him that. I let him believe I wanted something more than that.” Your voice trails off as you look Minho in the eyes.
He stops to think about your words for a moment before saying, “And instead of telling him, you met me at that party.” Worrying at your lip you nod, “When he found out, he got really really mad of course and I said horrible things to him that weren’t true and we…we haven’t talked since,” you shake your head as your filthy heart aches, “I wanted to tell myself that we weren’t emotionally involved with each other.”
Though you half expect Minho to agree, conclude that you are a bitch, but he just nods, a knowing look on his face. “So you do like him.” You suck a breath in, wrestling over a fact that is obviously true. You don’t want to admit it. Why don’t you want to admit it? Maybe because it’s almost like a lock or a seal. Once you confess it, you leave yourself vulnerable to possibilities you can’t control. When you had him, you felt you had him wrapped around your finger. You let him go because your hands wanted to grab an assortment of things and now that he’s slipped out, you just wish that you hadn’t been so selfish.
Despite the sound of a lock shutting you into your feelings you whisper, “Yeah, I really do.”
“Then swallow your pride and tell him that you fucked up,” Minho’s gaze is fierce, “Don’t fucking wait here and hope all your feelings go away because they won’t. If he doesn’t think you’re worth it, then you’ll at least know that what got you into this mess in the first place is resolved. You’d be open with him and you’ll get hurt but,” he throws his hands up, “you’ll have done it.”
You frown, picking at a lint on his covers, “But what if he doesn’t hear me or—”
The exasperated sign from Minho stops you short, “What the fucking hell if he doesn’t hear you, Y/n? He’s got a right to do that but don’t use that as an excuse to not swallow your pride and try to make things right.” You hate how right he is and you hate how you’re missing Jisung but rather than pushing that longing away, you let it lead you. Sunlight streams down on your clothes and you lay Minho’s clothes on his bed quickly, slipping your own on. He gets up, following you out to his doorstep. Somewhere, you find the courage to look him in the eye. “I’m really sorry about this, Minho. Sorry for dragging you into my problems.” Minho shakes his head, tugging you into a hug, “Relationships like this don’t work for everyone. Just tell me how it goes with him and we can work it out from there.” Though you would just drop Minho, block his number and ignore him around campus, you know that you can’t leave a loose end like this so you just nod.
Changbin opens the door to his, Chan’s, and Jisung’s apartment, a scowl rising on his face when he sees you. “What did I fucking tell you, Y/n?” He blocks the doorway with his body and starts closing it when you try to look behind him. “He’s not here so what do you want?”
“I need to apologize! I need to tell him that I was wrong and that—”
“Do you know how much of a fucking mess he’s been these past weeks? Y/n, it’s been almost a month and you haven’t even tried reaching out to him once. Did you even stop to think about him?”
“Every single fucking night! There hasn’t been a single day that I haven’t cried over it!” You respond desperately.
“Oh boo-hoo,” Changbin mocks, “She finally has feeling. Why the hell did you wait till now to say this? Do you like to put the people you care about in misery? What, do you make them realize how much they care about you by destroying their trust?”
By now, tears are streaming down your face at Changbin’s candid, ruthless but truthful words. “I was scared! I didn’t want to tell him because I was terrified of being hurt again.”
“So you fucking shatter his heart.” Changbin growls, his eyes darkening.
“Please, just let me see him. I just need to tell him and then I’ll leave,” you beg desperately, all but wringing your hands. The older boy’s cold voice causes your stomach to sink, “I told you, Y/n. He’s not here.”
Changbin closes the door quickly as a soft voice calls out from inside the apartment. “I-is that Y/n?” You want to run to that voice, to tell him that you know you’re selfish and stupid and fucked up but the stupid door between you stops you from doing that. Muffled words are being exchanged from behind the other side of the door. Changbin tells him that nothing happened and that he needs to go back to sleep. The door opens despite Changbin’s protsts. The boy in the door ways dark eyes are red and puffy. His hair is greasy and his lips are chapped and bleeding.
He’s beautiful.
You don’t dare reach out; you don’t dare touch him. You don’t deserve it. Changbin moves in front of Jisung, jamming a finger in your face. “I’m leaving but this is the first and last fucking chance I’ll give you. Remember what I said to you. I won’t let him get hurt again.”
Now that you are in the position you’ve been wanting to be in: alone in front of Jisung, you regret not preparing what you’re gonna say to him. His eyes are still red and he gazes at you with a broken, longing stare. Swallowing hard and dropping your gaze, you begin, “I’m really fucking sorry, Jisung. I was being selfish and I was wrong for what I did.”
His voice is croaky and raw. “What did you do, though? Do you even know what you did to me, Y/n?” The damn stinging in your eyes drags them down, but you force yourself to look him in the eyes.
“I knew,” the confession makes your heart burn but you continue, “I knew how you felt but—”
“Then why would you do that? Are you really that cruel?” His voice is so soft and it cracks. He shoves his hands into his jogger pockets to hide their tremors from you.
“It’s because I’m a piece of shit, okay? I was scared of opening up to you and wanted you to not feel that way about me because I don’t deserve it!” You don’t know why your voice rises and you wish it wouldn’t. You wish you wouldn’t get worked up over this and just tell him diplomatically but you can’t. “I thought that keeping it only sexual between us would let that happen and I was terrified when I wanted to involve myself with you in a way deeper than that.”
Jisung’s eyes narrow and he scoffs, “So you go fuck another guy. That’s a great solution, Y/n. Really smart move you pulled there,” he steps closer to you, glaring down at you, “Yeah, you’re right. You are a piece of shit cause you were too scared of facing something as normal as feelings.”
Your insides burn and you push down bile as a you can feel a fist tear at your heart but you take a shaky breath in, “I know I don’t deserve it, but is there any way you can accept my apology?” The scoff that Jisung lets out again twists your gut and he places his hands behind his head, turning away from you. His words are slow and measured, “I need to think about it.��� You reach out, beginning to say something but abruptly stop, nodding and heading to the door. Pausing to look back at him, his back is still to you. “I’m so sorry, Jisung. I turned into the monster I was hurt by.” Your words have him turning around, eyes confused, but he doesn’t say anything so you close the door softly behind you.
Somehow, you manage to keep the tears at bay down the hall and onto the stairs, though there’s a burning numbness in your fingers.
You’re walking quickly out the stairwell to hide the tears streaming down your face when his voice calls out. Though your eyes scan around the courtyard, your stomach churns. His head is trained down to the brick ground, but he seems to know exactly where is walking: straight towards you. Rushing to meet him in the middle, any other thoughts escape your mind. You don’t even know what he’s gonna say, but a flood of relief rushes through you at seeing him. His eyes regard you thoughtfully and you realize he’s waiting for you to say something.
“W-what are you doing out here?” You stutter out, cheeks flushed and nose cold.
His head tilts and he blinks around your face before responding slowly, “Well this is my apartment,” he lets out a small humorless laugh to fill the empty sound around you guys. Right by his side when he begins walking, you look up at him as he continues, “I’ve made up my mind,” he pauses, meeting your eyes, “actually, I’ve thought a lot about you and me and us for the past month.” You will your heartbeat to slow to a normal pace. “I though that it was wrong of me to be possessive of you but then I realized that you knew how I felt about you,” he chews on his lip, “I feel like we’re both at fault right now.”
“Maybe,” you start, “but that doesn’t make up for what I did to you.”
He stretches his arms out, nodding down at you, “Yeah, I agree but I understand where you’re coming from. I get that trusting people is hard but do you think you can trust me?”
You hold your breath and whisper, “I think I can. Can you forgive me?”
Though Jisung’s eyes wander around you, his voice is steady as he says, “I forgive you if you can trust me.” A breath hitches in your throat and you feel hot tears prickle at your eyes as relief floods your chest.
You collapse into him, wrapping your arms around him and speaking into his hoodie, “I was so scared I’d lose one of the only people I really care for.”
He strokes the back of your head tenderly. “Nah, I want to start back where we left off.”
Sniffing, you gaze up at him, “You do?”
An endearing smile spreads across his face and he nods, “Changbin hyung will take some convincing but I really like you.”
Your chest burns in the best way possible and you don’t feel like you’re worth it but you say it anyways, “I like you too, Jisung.” Satisfied, he leans down to place a firm but tender kiss to your lips. A tear trickles down your cheek as you feel redeemed. Forgiven.
Jisung trails his fingers through your hair and leans back onto his bed covers, you on top of him. Gingerly, your fingers trace the familiar curve of his jawline and you realize how much you missed him. His tongue is slow against yours but his heartbeat is fast against your fingers. As his lips travel over the skin of you neck, you exhale happily, ready to begin with Jisung again the right way. He flips you both over, eyes wide and asking you for permission. You nod and he slips off his hoodie. His slightly cold finger provide a wonderful sensation as he pushes them into you. Slowly thrusting them in and out, Jisung gazes down at you, a smile gracing his features as your soft moans fill his apartment. He curls his fingers in you, twisting and scissoring you in a way no one else could. With your full attention on him, Jisung pulls out his fingers and licks your arousal off them. The sight of his red tongue lapping the juices up makes you instantly wetter. Smirking, Jisung tugs down his pants, leaning down to place wet kisses over your face, neck, and collarbones. His hot mouth on yours, he slowly enters you, letting you adjust before firmly thrusting into you. Its not crazed or wanton like before, but slow and drawn out as he feels the extent of your depths clenching around him and you feel his veins rubbing against your walls. With a slow exhale, Jisung continues, his hands reaching down to grasp yours tightly.
“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you, Y/n,” he breathes.
“I can know, because I’ve missed you more.”
A sly smile comes onto his face and he shakes his head, “Nah, I missed you more, baby.” To cement his words, he reaches a hand down to slowly circle your clit. You arch your back off the ground and let out a deep moan. His lips finds your jaw as his pace quickens. His hair is soft and tangles in your fingers as one hand grips his hair and one his shoulder. Breathless moans escape both of your lips and when he looks down at you in the eye, you unintentionally clench around him. He groans and whispers, “I’m close, baby.”
You nod, moaning as he pleasures your clit and thrusts deep into you. When you tilt your head to the side, Jisung grabs your jaw, staring down at you. “You’re mine, Y/n. All mine.” This pushes you off the edge and you shake as your release washes over you and you feel him coming into you.
Panting, Jisung stays on top of you, admiration in his eyes as he gazes down at you, even as his erection withers inside you. “Say it,” he whispers. Now with no inhibitions, you kiss him, holding his gaze and breathe, “You’re mine, Jisung and I’m yours.”
Jisung cleans you both up and as Jisung holds you tightly, nuzzling his nose in your neck, you realize that your past experiences no longer control your life. You alone are the author of your chapters and Jisung helped you gain that freedom. You run your hands through his hair and hold him close, cherishing him like he’s the world.
#jisung#han jisung#stray kids#skz#han#jisung smut#jisung angst#han jisung smut#han jisung angst#stray kids smut#stray kids angst#skz smut#skz angst#han smut#han angst#stray kids hard hours#stray kids dark hours#jeongin#bang chan#christopher bang#hyunjin#seungmin#minho#changbin#felix
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Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 13 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega
a/n:guess who’s realised she never submitted this to AQ? it’s ya boi. if u haven’t been able to read this yet then here it is, and look out for the final chapter coming soon! thank u to everyone who’s ever sent this fic some love, it means the world to me!!
fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.
And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.
***
6th December 2020
Vanessa’s in the wine aisle of Marks and Spencers when she sees her again.
Her hair’s been dyed- she already knew that, she’s seen pictures of it on her Insta feed- and the demure tones of the honey-brown balayage are a contrast to the blonde ombré she’d had when they’d been together, but it suits her. She’s in sweatpants and a cropped jumper, because of course she is, and Vanessa recognises the matching pink set emblazoned with the Playboy logo from Missguided adverts on bus shelters. She’s wearing some form of chunky white trainers and Vanessa isn’t proud of the fact that she feels a little flame of satisfaction light up in her gut when she sees that they’re splattered with mud, contrasting with her clean outfit and perfect makeup.
Vanessa turns back to the green bottles in front of her, staring at them for so long and with such intensity that she thinks she might rip the fabric of reality in two. She consciously blocks out her peripheral vision so that all she can see is the label of one bottle of white which she reads over and over again. A light, dry white with citrus notes and lively green fruit flavours. Grown in the spectacular setting of the sun ripened vineyards of central Spain. Goes with fish, chicken and salads.
She doesn’t, in any way, shape or form, know how to play this situation, because this is the first time she’s seen Kameron in person since they decided to call it quits. One one hand she could just keep staring at the wine bottle, attempt to blend into the shelves via osmosis and completely avoid her ex, but on the other hand…Vanessa doesn’t really know what the other hand is, because she doesn’t know what a conversation between the two of them would look like. There’s a part of her that wants to find out.
And suddenly, with a cry that Vanessa recognises as hers, the decision is made for her.
“Vanjie?”
Slowly, timidly, Vanessa turns around to meet her eyes. Soft, brown eyes that Vanessa had once looked into and seen her whole world and future.
God, it’s fucking crazy how she used to be so in love with her and now she feels completely apathetic.
“Kam! Hey,” Vanessa smiles tightly, waving awkwardly with the hand she’s not holding her shopping basket with. “How are you?”
“I’m fine! Well, actually, not amazing. I tried to make this really fancy, complex coq au vin for dinner last night but I don’t know what the hell I did wrong because it tasted like fucking ass. So I’m here getting ingredients again because Mama didn’t raise a quitter. It’ll probably still taste like garbage though, you know what I’m like,” Kameron reels off, which makes Vanessa smile in spite of herself. Kam was never the best at cooking and it was usually Vanessa who made the dinners when they were together, but there were still a couple of times when she’d tried at something and had failed spectacularly. Kameron seems to pick up on what she’d said as a little look of discomfort flashes in her eyes before she follows her sentence up with, “How’re you? God, it’s been ages.”
“It has,” Vanessa shrugged a little. So much has changed since they’ve last spoken that Vanessa isn’t really sure where to start. “I’m good. Things are pretty great, really. Obviously had a good run on the show for my first year competing, so hopefully I’ll get a partner next year too an’ win it next time.”
“I know, you did so well! I was really shocked you didn’t make the semis at least,” Kameron frowns, and the flattery does admittedly soften Vanessa up a little. Kameron’s face lights up as she adds, “God, your girl was so amazing though too! Brooke Lynn Hytes, right? She was super talented. Now I know how good a dancer she is I can’t help but feel like she’s sort of wasted as a presenter.”
“Yeah, she’s incredible,” Vanessa nods emphatically, unable to help the heat she feels spreading to her cheeks whenever she gets to talk about Brooke with somebody. Kameron’s expression changes a little as she clocks Vanessa’s blush, and a cheeky glint appears in her eye. Vanessa frowns. “Hey. Behave.”
“I didn’t say a word!” Kameron laughs, and as she trails off there’s a smile on her face that’s affectionate and helps Vanessa warm up to her ex even more. “Listen, what’re your plans? I’d honestly love to catch up. It’s been too long.”
Vanessa tilts her head in thought. The conversation isn’t going too badly, and her only plans are going round to Brooke’s later on to watch the semi-final results and have dinner (hence the reason she’s gone to M&S to get wine and not the Tesco Metro round the corner from her). So Vanessa surprises herself when she shrugs, giving Kameron a little nod. “Okay, yeah. Lemme get this wine and then we can get coffee.”
The way Kameron’s face lights up makes Vanessa think that her decision was the correct one.
They’re sat at a little table at the window of a nondescript coffee shop roughly ten minutes later, Kameron stirring the hell out of a vanilla latte that’s sat in front of her and creating a tiny whirlpool in the coffee that puts Vanessa in mind of a Pirates of the Carribean movie. Kameron’s talking about the flat she’s in just now- she bought it after she rented for a while when she moved out of Vanessa’s place- and how furniture is so expensive.
“I mean I could just go to IKEA and just furnish the entire thing for, like, two grand, but I actually want some really nice stuff, you know? Like it’s a big girl professional flat, not a uni rental,” she screws her face up as she finally takes a sip. Vanessa bristles a little opposite her- she knows Kam doesn’t mean it, but Vanessa wants to remind her that most of her furniture is from IKEA, because they’d gone and bought it all together when they first moved in. Kameron doesn’t seem affected, though, and keeps talking. “What about you? You still living out at Finsbury Park?”
Vanessa nods. “I’m still in the same flat, I never moved.”
A look of shock passes over Kameron’s face and Vanessa can read her like a book- the fact she’s still in that flat where they made so many memories together is obviously surprising. Vanessa can’t help but laugh. “Kameron, chill. You don’t roam the fuckin’ halls like a ghost, I don’t burst into tears whenever I go into a room. It’s a decent flat at a decent price, I wanted to keep it.”
“Right. Sorry. Ego check,” Kameron smiles sheepishly, and Vanessa feels bad for poking fun at her. Kameron perks up after a second, laughs a little. “I like how you said ‘halls’ plural. Like it’s a stately home and not a fucking matchbox with an intercom system.”
Vanessa’s taking a sip of her own hot chocolate and she almost chokes on it in a laugh, Kameron howling and slapping the table in response. Vanessa’s forgotten that Kam used to make her laugh, still can. She always used to see it like some sort of secret privilege she had access to, the quiet girl’s funny side rare and only popping out on special occasions. That hasn’t changed over the years.
“How’s work, anyway?” Vanessa asks her as she composes herself. Kameron shrugs easily.
“Pretty good. I did a Dua Lipa music video the other week, that should be coming out in a month or so.”
“Is she actually as bad a dancer as that video made her out to be?”
Kameron smirks. “She had a shit choreographer; she’s actually alright. Not pop girl standard, but you know. My agent’s trying to get me on the Blackpink tour next, so I should hear back from that soon.”
Vanessa’s glad that work hasn’t dried up for Kameron- the backing dancer industry is treating her well.
“Anyway,” Kameron bats her lashes, looking at Vanessa coyly from behind her glass. “Tell me more about this dance partner of yours, miss.”
Vanessa feels herself blush, a bashful laugh escaping her lips before she can stop it. It’s weird- after they first broke up Vanessa always used to think she’d love the chance to rub her ex’s face in a new relationship, but it feels ever so slightly odd now she’s actually about to talk about Brooke in front of her. “Honestly, we’re just seeing each other and keeping things casual. Y’know, while the series is still goin’. We’re not even official or public.”
“Yet,” Kameron smiles cheekily at her, and Vanessa can’t suppress the smile she returns to her.
“Okay, yet. But it’s going really well. I really like her. She’s sweet, an’ she’s caring, an’ she’s the best listener.”
“And she won’t be a fucking idiot and cheat on you.”
“No, I don’t think she will,” Vanessa shrugs, the fact that Kameron’s brought the situation up casting a small grey cloud over the conversation. It’s clunky and awkward, a puzzle piece jammed in a place it shouldn’t be. It’s been brought up now though, so Vanessa grimaces and adds, “But then I never thought you would, either.”
Kameron’s face screws up in regret, and before Vanessa knows it she’s rested a hand on top of hers and is giving her a tentative smile. “I know I said it about twenty million times when we were together but I’m honestly so sorry, Vanessa. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Kam, you gotta stop beatin’ yourself up about it,” Vanessa cuts in and says swiftly. Her own words shock her; they’ve come from virtually nowhere, and she’s amazed at the raw sympathy she’s just shown her. “You were drunk, it was a kiss. Strictly is…it’s a weird show. You saw him more hours in the day than you saw me. Kisses between partners happen all the time, it just…sucks that it happened between you two.”
Kameron nods quietly, and Vanessa puts her other hand on top of hers. “I forgive you. Give yourself a break.”
Kameron squeezes her hand, shoots her a soft smile. “Thanks, Vanjie.”
They let go of each other’s hands and each take a sip of their own drink, the silence between them somewhat symbolic like someone wiping words off a whiteboard. Vanessa watches as Kameron swallows a gulp of her coffee and grins. “Hey, do me a solid and put in a good word with Asia O’Hara for me, okay? I really want to slide into her DMs but I need some context first.”
“Your face can be the context, fuckin’ look in a mirror,” Vanessa snorts, and the two of them laugh together.
It’s nice. This huge, big, massive event she’s built up in her head for all these months is happening- she’s bumped into Kameron and she’s speaking to her. She doesn’t need to build it up anymore, or wonder about how it would play out because she’s living it, it’s playing out and she never has to see Kameron for the first time since they broke up ever again. A wall crumbles down in her mind without warning and once the dust settles she realises that she feels somewhat lighter.
Vanessa has been carrying this burden around with her for all this time without even having known it.
The pair of them eventually finish up- hug goodbye outside the coffee shop and tell each other how nice this all had been and then go their separate ways. They don’t promise to keep in touch, but Vanessa knows they’ll probably like each others’ Instagram posts or occasionally tweet each other support or that kind of thing now. Little things that remind them they’re still on good terms.
As Vanessa heads to the tube, her mind drifts to Brooke and how excited she is to see her. The week has been long and Brooke’s been busy, but true to her word she’s messaged Vanessa whenever she’s had a spare moment, updating her on her day and asking her about her own. On Tuesday she’d invited Vanessa round to her flat on Sunday night as she has a day off on Monday and they can spend the night together. She’s not just abandoned her or left her hanging, and if there’s about to be a gap between her messages she always pre-warns her. Brooke’s treating her well. Almost like a girlfriend. Exactly like a girlfriend.
Vanessa still doesn’t know what they really are. She’s so far told herself that that’s alright, but now they’re out of the competition that answer isn’t really satisfying her any more. She wants to call Brooke hers, she wants to be with her properly. As Brooke’s apartment building comes into view, Vanessa wonders if she’ll bring it up tonight.
As she buzzes Brooke’s intercom, though, Brooke’s tone throws everything into a tailspin.
“Hello?”
Vanessa frowns. Brooke sounds ever-so-slightly icy and fed up. She wonders if she’s imagined it. “Uh, hey! It’s Vanessa.”
“Hey. Come up.”
As the door buzzes open and Vanessa steps into the building, she waves away the thoughts in her head. She’s probably overthinking things, and as she steps into the elevator and lets herself be carried up to Brooke’s 12th floor apartment Vanessa tries to calm her nerves. It’s the first time she’s been to Brooke’s flat- in fact it’s the first time either of them have been at either of their flats- so she’s a little anxious. It’s another layer of the relationship they’re adding on, and the thought of things getting a little more serious makes Vanessa’s heart flutter.
So her head is thrown into a tailspin when the elevator doors open onto a landing and she’s met with three doors- two closed, and the other (Brooke’s, a little gold 111 set into the smooth grey exterior) is ever so slightly ajar. Vanessa narrows her eyes, tentatively stepping out of the lift, crossing the hall, and pushing the door open a little.
“Brooke Lynn?”
Brooke’s voice replies, still something to it that Vanessa can’t quite work out. “I’m in here.”
Frowning, Vanessa steps through the doorway and into Brooke’s flat. The whole situation is so strange that she can barely take in everything she sees; a long, narrow hallway lined with high heels that leads down to what looks like a sunken living room with a cream sofa and a floor-to-ceiling view of London. There’s a room to the right halfway down the hall, though, and it seems to be where Brooke’s voice came from, so Vanessa closes the front door and hears the click of the lock behind her as she follows it. Maybe she’s in the middle of something. Maybe she’s just busy and she wants Vanessa’s company while she finishes whatever it is she’s doing.
And then, as Vanessa turns into the room, the situation becomes immediately apparent.
Brooke’s bedroom is dark- the blinds are drawn and the only light comes from a few candles that are sitting on the tidy grey dressing-table under the window and the soft pink salt lamp that sits on the bedside table. The large bed pushed up against the wall takes up most of the room, and its sheets are white and perfectly ironed and crease-free.
They serve as a perfect backdrop to the sight that’s currently greeting Vanessa- Brooke, in a matching set of black Calvin Klein underwear, curled up against the pillows and scrolling her phone. The dark material makes Brooke’s pale skin pop, and the sight of her toned thighs and stomach forces Vanessa to squeeze her thighs together in spite of herself. Brooke looks up as she enters the room and smiles smugly, clearly happy to get the reaction Vanessa’s given her.
“Hey, sweetie,” she says, her voice light and sing-song and making the entire situation worse because the fact she’s so perfectly put-together while Vanessa is slowly becoming a melting, gooey mess in front of her is, for some reason, only making her want to rip Brooke’s clothes off even more than she already does. “Come sit.”
She gently pats the space on the bed next to her and Vanessa almost knocks herself out kicking her trainers off and letting her jacket fall to the floor as she scrambles up onto the bed. She feels herself blush as Brooke gives a soft laugh (presumably in response to just how eager she is) then decides she doesn’t really care how she’s coming across as Brooke leans in and closes the gap between them, kisses her with soft Chapstick lips that Vanessa feels as if she’s addicted to. Vanessa expects the kiss to be more than it is- flames of seductive fire that make one thing lead to another all too quickly- but instead it feels as if Brooke is deliberately holding back, teasing her a little. It’s not helping Vanessa’s desperation at all, and just as she brings a hand up to rest on Brooke’s hip, Brooke breaks the kiss.
“So,” Brooke begins cryptically, as she reaches for her phone where she’d discarded it against the sheets. “I was just scrolling Instagram, you know, as you do. And, uh, I felt a little bit confused.”
Vanessa frowns in tandem with Brooke, who finally appears to reach the post she’s been looking for. Brooke’s voice keeps its light tone as she continues. “Because apparently, according to these photos…it looks like you had a cute little reunion date with your ex today?”
Vanessa’s heart drops as Brooke turns her phone to show her the long-lens photograph posted by The Sun’s Instagram account. It’s her and Kameron at the coffee shop window, taken at the exact moment that Kameron had reached out and taken her hand and Vanessa had shot her a forgiving smile and taken hers in return, probably the most affection they’ve shown each other in a whole year.
But Jesus Christ, has it been taken out of context and then some.
She’s panicking, and she can feel her mouth opening and closing rapidly as she attempts to explain herself. The one saving grace about the whole situation is that Brooke appears to be…calm? Relaxed? She’s not flown off the handle, anyway, which Vanessa wouldn’t exactly have expected, and there’s also the fact she’s in a matching underwear set so clearly can’t be that mad at her. So Vanessa finally finds her voice, tells Brooke everything- how she’d only bumped into Kameron in the shop, and how it was just a coffee and nothing more, and how she’d actually finally received closure for everything that had happened between the two of them.
As she speaks, part of Vanessa wants to bring up the fact that she and Brooke aren’t even together together, so why Brooke’s so pressed about all of this Vanessa doesn’t know.
Unless Brooke wants them to be more than what they already are. And Vanessa has fucked it.
Shit.
“It’s just all a massive misunderstandin’, honestly,” Vanessa finishes, and she’s relaxing a little more now that Brooke’s body language is warmer. “I maybe should’ve texted you but I was gonna tell you tonight anyway, I promise. I wouldn’t…I just wouldn’t mess you about like that, Brooke.”
Brooke slowly lets a bashful smile creep across her face as she nods softly. “Okay.”
And, just because she can, Vanessa pulls her in for another kiss. This time there’s a little more heat to it which makes Vanessa’s stomach flutter in anticipation, but she still feels as if Brooke’s holding back. It’s only then that Vanessa remembers how Brooke had told her she liked being in control, how much Brooke got off on hearing her beg for what she wanted the first time they’d slept together, and it all falls into place.
Oh.
Before Vanessa can say anything, Brooke’s trailing her hand from its position cupping Vanessa’s jaw down her body to rest on her waist, and Vanessa’s mouth goes ever-so-slightly dry. Brooke’s face is still close as she speaks again. “See I thought that would be the case, because I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”
Vanessa responds by mirroring Brooke’s touches, resting her own hand against her exposed thigh and delighting as she watches something darken behind Brooke’s eyes. Her tone changes a little as she continues. “But it did get me thinking…what if you did forget how good you had it one day?”
“Won’t happen,” Vanessa shakes her head, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth as Brooke pushes up the hem of her oversized white t-shirt, rests the palm of her hand against the bare skin at her waist. Vanessa squeezes her legs together again and she watches as Brooke flicks her gaze down, suppresses a smirk badly.
“It won’t?” Brooke pouts mockingly, and Vanessa loves it. “Well, just in case…I thought I’d show you what you’d miss if you ever did think you could do better than me.”
“Fuck,” Vanessa verbalises what she’s thinking in a hiss, as Brooke tugs at the bottom of her top and removes it quickly without Vanessa having to do anything other than raise her hands above her head.
Brooke dips her down so that her head’s resting against the pillows and presses kisses to Vanessa’s jaw, neck, collarbone, right down to the lace of her bra. Vanessa’s pulse is racing and she finds herself already spreading her legs, unable to help the way she needs Brooke to touch her.
“God, you’re so needy,” Brooke tuts disapprovingly into her skin, briefly reaching her hands under Vanessa’s back in an attempt to unhook her bra. Vanessa’s stomach tenses as she lifts herself off the mattress to help her, and soon the bra that she spent entirely too long picking out this morning is thrown halfway across the room onto the dark wood of Brooke’s bedroom floor.
“Says the girl that’s trying to get my boobs out in the first two minutes of foreplay- ah!” Vanessa cuts herself off as Brooke sucks a hickey into her collarbone. If she wanted to get Vanessa to shut up she’s succeeded, and so Vanessa instead focuses her attention on trailing her nails up and down Brooke’s back, delighting in the way the other girl shivers gently at the contact.
Brooke brings her lips up to meet Vanessa’s and she licks gently into her mouth as she strokes her thumb over one of her nipples, the contact making Vanessa flinch against the bed in the best kind of way. Vanessa trails a hand up Brooke’s back and pushes her fingers into her hair, and when Brooke breaks away her stomach flips at the way it’s all messed up and imperfect. Paired with Brooke’s blown pupils and plush lips, it’s a sight that makes Vanessa buck gently into the air almost without realising.
“Jesus. It really doesn’t take much, does it?” Brooke laughs gently as she loops a finger under the waistband of her leggings, and Vanessa shakes her head and pouts self-indulgently.
“Brooke…” she begins, then trails off when she doesn’t actually realise what she wants to say. She’s very happy to let her be in charge if this is what happens as a result, and when Brooke moves to straddle her it renders her twice as speechless as she was before.
“If this is you now, I’m almost scared for how you’re going to react when you see what I’m planning on doing to you,” Brooke says softly, the fake concern to her voice sending shockwaves rippling through Vanessa’s body. Before she can respond Vanessa gasps as Brooke pulls off her leggings, leaving her in the red thong she’d agonised over and the white ankle socks she’d put entirely less thought into. Brooke is left kneeling between Vanessa’s spread legs; dark heavy-lidded eyes, mouth hanging ever-so-slightly open. When she speaks, her voice is ragged.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she says, and maybe it’s the simplicity of it but Brooke’s words make Vanessa feel completely naked despite what she’s still wearing.
“You’re beautiful,” Vanessa breathes out in an instant reply.
Brooke pouts and trails one of her short acrylics up Vanessa’s inner thigh, ripping a whine from her. “You sure Kameron isn’t more beautiful?”
“Jesus,” Vanessa throws her head back against the pillow and lets out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t have you down as the jealous type at all.”
When she tilts her head up Brooke’s got an unimpressed eyebrow raised at her. “You’re already in trouble, this isn’t helping your case.”
Vanessa can’t resist the urge to tease her and so she sticks her tongue out in response. “Oh what, you gonna punish me? You gonna tie me to the bed an’ spank me?”
Brooke’s gaze darkens. There’s a pause as she crawls up the bed, hovers over Vanessa with her face close. Vanessa keeps her own eyes sparkling as she stays still, challenging her to see if she’ll crack even though she wants to grab her jaw and kiss her with the same intensity they’d shown each other earlier.
“Brooke Lynn’s jeal-ous,” she sing-songs right in her face, and when Brooke pulls back she’s wearing a dark expression. Vanessa brings her hands up to rest on Brooke’s waist, traces the outline of her waistband.
And when Brooke leans over to the top drawer of her bedside table, Vanessa’s eyes widen as she instantly realises what she means.
She produces a wireless pink wand vibrator, and Vanessa’s body hotwires.
“Fuck.”
“Mm-hm,” Brooke murmurs, lips quirking in a smile. “You’re going to get punished for the stunt you decided to pull today.”
“Oh no, I hate orgasms! What a terrible punishment,” Vanessa smiles back at her, sarcastic and indulgent.
“Who says you’re going to be allowed to have any?” Brooke frowns.
Vanessa instantly realises her mistake.
“Wait…but-”
“Yeah. I’d suggest you better start being extra nice to me,” Brooke interrupts her, resting the wand down on the bed beside one of Vanessa’s thighs and hooking her fingers around the waistband of her underwear to tug it off. While this is happening Vanessa shuffles against the sheets in anticipation, something curling tightly in the pit of her stomach and the throbbing between her legs becoming impossible to ignore. She wants so badly to be touched, wants Brooke to feel how wet she is and for her eyes to go all wide when she realises she’s the one that’s got her this worked up, but instead of her fingers or her tongue she’s using that stupid fucking vibrator and she’s not even going to be allowed to come.
Fuck.
“Please, Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa pouts, letting a hand trail up Brooke’s thigh from where she’s positioned herself between her legs.
Brooke gives a short laugh. “You think you’re begging me now, wait until I get started.”
“Promise I’ll be good for you,” Vanessa insists, the end of her sentence almost getting cut off with a gasp as Brooke presses the wand against her. It’s not even switched on yet but it’s something that Vanessa can grind against, and she bucks her hips gently against the head.
“If you want me to turn it on you better keep those hips still,” Brooke says quickly, and Vanessa groans in resignation, lies still like she’s been asked.
She’s rewarded with a soft hum and a gentle buzz against her slit, and she can’t help the moan of satisfaction she gives in response as Brooke holds the wand there for a few moments, letting Vanessa get used to it. After so much build-up it feels like heaven, and the feeling leaves Vanessa wondering how long she’s going to last.
Brooke starts to swipe the wand up and down against her; lazy, slow motions that leave Vanessa squirming against the mattress every time she feels the vibrations brush against her clit. It’s not helping that Vanessa can see Brooke’s own chest rising and falling increasingly quickly, her pink, flushed cheeks, her hair all unkempt from Vanessa running her fingers through it.
“This good, babe?” Brooke asks, her tone ragged and her voice hoarse. When she snaps her gaze up to meet Vanessa’s eyes her pupils are blown and black and it sends an arrow through Vanessa’s heart that instantly shatters it as if it’s a piñata full of confetti.
“Mm,” is all Vanessa can manage, along with a rapid nod against the pillow.
“Not quite hearing a yes or a no there,” Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should just turn it off-”
“No, no, no, no! It’s good, it’s good, fuck, yes, please don’t stop,” Vanessa instantly reels off as if it’s a frantic prayer. Brooke’s probably the closest thing to religion she’s experienced in months.
“You sure? You sure Kameron wouldn’t do it better?” Brooke says teasingly, wiggling the vibrator against her clit as if to make a point and sending Vanessa into the stratosphere.
“No, I promise, I promise, babe, please, please, please,” she whines. She can hear herself pleading and she hopes it’ll help Brooke come round to the idea of letting her orgasm because if Brooke ups the setting on her wand then there’s no way she’s going to be able to exercise any form of restraint.
Brooke switches back to slowly sliding the vibrator against her, and Vanessa can feel Brooke’s grip on her thigh tighten.
“Fuck, I can see how wet you are from here.”
Vanessa feels herself throb, her body responding to Brooke’s words before she can. She fists both her her hands into the sheets, can’t see her knuckles but knows they’ve gone white. “You wanna taste me so bad.”
“So much,” Brooke pouts, nodding slowly. “But…you need to lie there and take your punishment.”
“Fuck. I miss when you were too shy to talk during sex,” Vanessa huffs, grumpy, and she’s immediately stopped from saying any more as the wand buzzes that little bit more intensely against her. Brooke brings it back up to her clit, rubs it in slow, small circles that drive Vanessa wild and render her almost incapable of thought.
“Sounds like you’re the one who can’t talk during sex,” Brooke deadpans, squeezing Vanessa’s thigh to punctuate her point.
She can feel how slick the wand is against her, only illustrating how wet she is. The hum of the vibrator and the gasps Vanessa can hear herself making are heightening her senses; it’s too much and not enough all at once. Both Brooke’s teasing and the sensation of the wand vibrating against her is making Vanessa’s inevitable orgasm build inside her, and it’s only a matter of time before she hits boiling point.
“Brooke- ah!- please…don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last…”
“Oh, no way,” Brooke says darkly, and in an instant the vibrator is off and Vanessa’s back is arching off the bed in frustration as she cries out in disappointment. “You don’t get to come yet, babe, not after the sass you just gave me.”
Vanessa instantly regrets opening her stupid mouth and teasing Brooke more than anything she’s ever regretted before in her life. She whines, reaches her hips up into the air as if she’s going to generate friction from nowhere, and Brooke’s pouting in mock-sympathy. Vanessa knows she could just spring up from her position against the bed, grab Brooke’s face and kiss her and pin her down and take the control back, but there’s part of her that knows how unbelievably satisfying it’s going to be when she does get to come if she’s this worked up already.
Brooke’s watching her with heavy-lidded eyes as she traces up her leg then fans her fingers out over her inner thigh and rubs her thumb against her clit. The contact makes Vanessa’s eyes almost roll into the back of her head; the wand has heightened her sensitivity and she’s by now so slick and wet from all of Brooke’s teasing that with every little rub of her thumb Vanessa can feel the fire between her thighs become completely out of control.
“God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this to you every fucking day since Blackpool,” Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa bucks against her thumb helplessly. “We’d be having to rehearse but all I wanted to do was just to make you beg for it again and again, fuck.”
“Should’ve told me.”
“Mm. I almost texted you about it. One of the nights I was lying in bed fucking myself with my fingers and remembering how good yours felt…remembering how you felt like fucking heaven underneath me…I could’ve sent you so many pictures that night…”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ you need to stop talking or I’m gonna come,” Vanessa squeezes her eyes shut. Brooke’s still teasing her clit and Vanessa knows she’s deliberately applying just not quite enough pressure. She’s so on edge and it feels like the most incredible form of torture.
“You want the wand back, sweetie?”
“Please, fuck, yes,” Vanessa begs, almost wanting to sob. When Brooke’s thumb gets replaced by the vibrating head of the wand she feels lightheaded, lets out a cry that she instantly knows Brooke’s neighbours will hear but she doesn’t care. Brooke’s teasing her badly, holding the wand against her, taking it away for a second, then replacing it, and Vanessa feels so sorry for herself that she starts pleading with her.
“Keep it on me, please,” she gasps out, and when she looks up at Brooke she’s smiling at her wickedly.
“Like this?”
Brooke ups the intensity the moment she makes contact and Vanessa can practically feel herself give a little gush against the wand. Her breath is coming in shallow gasps now, and she’s only just registering the fact that Brooke’s got her hand that isn’t holding the wand down under the waistband of her own underwear, playing with herself. There’s a light sheen of sweat against her chest that’s making her glow like an angel and the way her chest is rising and falling is mirroring Vanessa’s.
Vanessa now realises why people yell out declarations of love right in the middle of their orgasm.
“Why don’t you tell me how much you like it?” Brooke murmurs. Vanessa can see her bucking against her fingers and the sight makes her press herself down against the wand, the way the vibrations roll over her clit in waves making her want to scream.
“So much…so fucking much…”
“Anyone else gonna fuck you like me?”
“No, baby, no-one else, just you, fuck, only you,” Vanessa whimpers. She looks up at Brooke and the sight of her eyes closed in ecstasy, grinding against her fingers and her nipples hard through the fabric of her bra is enough to tip Vanessa on a very gradual decline over the edge. “Fuck, can I come, please?”
“Yes, babe, you can come.”
When Vanessa feels her clit sieze up then pulse frantically against the vibrations of the wand, she shouts out into the bedroom, the pace of her fuck, fuck, fuck in sync with the waves of her orgasm flooding through her body. Brooke holds the wand against her until she’s sure she’s finished and Vanessa can only lie against the mattress, completely worn out and exhausted, as she watches Brooke take the wand and hold it between her own legs, the thin material of her underwear dark between her legs as Vanessa realises just how wet Brooke must be as well.
And even though Vanessa’s too worn out to help her out in the way she wants to, it doesn’t stop her from sliding a lazy hand up her thigh. She takes a couple of shallow breaths before pouting up at Brooke.
“Aww. Did watching me get you too worked up, baby?”
“Mm-hm,” Brooke hums in reply, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she squeezes her eyes shut. It gives her an idea.
“Not used my mouth on you yet. Bet you wish I was doin’ it now.”
“Fuck, Vanessa, keep talking.”
“You don’t get to boss me around any more, princess. Keep talking what?”
Brooke’s face contorts into a frown as she ruts against the wand, eyes still closed. “Keep talking please.”
“Good girl,” Vanessa purrs, and she almost feels as if she could go for round two as she hears the way Brooke gasps in delight at the praise. “You want me to tell you how much I want to put my tongue between your legs and taste you and watch you come apart under me?”
“Ah…”
“Maybe you don’t want that, though. Maybe you want to sit on my face instead. Ride my tongue and shut me up so I can’t talk back to you and drip all over my face all dirty while I just lie there and take it like a good girl.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brooke hisses out. Vanessa’s surprising herself with what’s coming out of her mouth and how absolutely filthy it all is but she’s going with it because she knows Brooke’s close.
“Tell me how much you want it.”
“Fuck, want it so much.”
“You’re so close, aren’t you?”
“Vanessa…fuck, please…”
Vanessa regains enough strength to sit up and cup Brooke’s face with her hands, meeting her lips with her own and teasing her with a slow, deep kiss. Vanessa flicks her tongue inside her mouth and when she rubs it over Brooke’s she cries out against her lips, her moans almost-but-not-quite swallowed by Vanessa’s kiss as she comes.
Brooke breaks away as she falls against the mattress and Vanessa follows her, lying down beside her and gently switching the wand off. They lay there in silence, Brooke’s gasps and the buzzing in Vanessa’s ears the only things she can still focus on until Brooke reaches out a hand to curl around one of Vanessa’s. Vanessa throws a leg over Brooke, pulls her closer so that Vanessa can rest her head against her chest and feel her frantic heartbeat.
“Fuck me,” Brooke whispers breathlessly, and Vanessa lets out a chuckle.
“What, again? Thought you’d at least want a break first.”
“Shut up,” Brooke giggles. There’s a pause as she presses her lips to Vanessa’s head, mouths something Vanessa can’t hear or see. Then she mutters again, a little louder. “You’re so amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” Vanessa replies childishly, though the way Brooke’s chest judders against her in a laugh Vanessa assumes she doesn’t mind. She flinches a little as Brooke’s stomach gives a loud rumble. “Oh yeah. Forgot you were meant to be making dinner.”
“Hey, I have made dinner thank you very much! It’s in the slow cooker. Cuban beef and rice if that’s okay?” Brooke asks, and Vanessa doesn’t miss the little nervous tone in her voice. It’s adorable.
“Sure it is.”
Brooke lends Vanessa some pyjamas to shove on in lieu of the outfit she’d arrived in, and Vanessa’s heart swells a little at the implication that she’s going to be staying over. She’s not sure if she’ll try and breach the subject of what they are tonight- the evening is already so perfect and Vanessa doesn’t want to ruin anything, especially not when they’re curled up on the sofa with bowls of warm food in their laps and laughing guiltily at the way Jan is sobbing because she and Jackie have become the latest ones to leave the competition after a tense dance-off with Crystal and Gigi.
“It’ll be a close final, though. Like that’s everyone been in the bottom now,” Vanessa contemplates, tilting her head in thought from her position at the other side of the sofa. Brooke nods, then snorts again.
“God. I feel for Jan, but she just has such a memeable crying face. Like Kim K,” Brooke snorts again, as some ridiculous BBC One gameshow that seems to be based around celebrities strapped into a wheel starts in the background.
“Jan’ll be fine. She’ll recover, she’s a big girl. She’s got Jackie anyway,” Vanessa shrugs. Brooke hums in response, and then there’s a palpable silence that fills the room, almost like Brooke is about to say something. Vanessa waits.
“So today got me thinking,” Brooke finally says, reaching out and curling her fingers around Vanessa’s. Her eyes are in her lap and she’s not meeting her gaze. Vanessa is, in every sense, on the edge of her seat.
“Uh-huh?”
“When I saw those pictures of you and Kameron,” Brooke continues, the reminder making Vanessa’s heart drop. “I got so envious…and then I thought, well…what’s the only way I can make sure Vanessa’s just mine?”
Brooke finally looks at her, and every fibre of Vanessa’s being lifts in hope. “So, uh, I was wondering…if you would want to be my girlfriend.”
And when Vanessa blinks, she can see fireworks explode behind her eyes. She’s unable to help the huge, dumb smile that breaks out on her face as she blushes shyly, gives a nod.
“‘Course I would, baby.”
The smile that bursts onto Brooke’s face mirrors her own, and Vanessa can’t help but lean in and pepper Brooke’s face with kisses, wrap her arms around her in a cuddle.
“Officially yours, now,” Vanessa smiles excitedly, as she rests her head against Brooke’s chest. She can’t see Brooke’s face, but she knows she’s smiling too.
And suddenly, a little sentence appears in Vanessa’s head, three very small and simple words that she’s not thought about in a long time but just make sense in that moment. She looks up at Brooke, meets her gaze and feels her heart thump.
Maybe she can save that for another day.
#rpdr fanfiction#ortega#bet you look good on the dancefloor#strictly au#lesbian au#branjie#past kamjie#vanessa vanjie mateo#brooke lynn hytes#kameron michaels#smut
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As per our twitter convo: Newt asking Hermann to help him take nudes for his current bf and “forgetting” to mention they’ve broken up...
THIS ONE IS FUN sorry they dont get laid until off screen at the end 😔 hard m, but still, 18+/not sfw
-----------------------------------
“So, uh,” Newton says, “this really isn’t what it looks like.”
Newton’s protests would be far more convincing if he took his hand out of his trousers first. As it is, Hermann can’t help but assume that the opposite--that it is, in fact, exactly what it looks like--is true. It’s to the credit of the sheer number of times Hermann’s walked in on Newton engaging in questionable acts that he doesn’t turn heel and march right back out of the lab but, instead, settles in wearily at his desk.
“What is it this time, then?” he says.
Newton tugs his hand from beneath his waistband, cell phone (curiously enough) in tow. “I’m taking a picture of my junk,” he says.
“Are you,” Hermann says.
“No, really,” Newton says. “I am!” Then he grins. “I’m seeing someone.”
This, at least, is not news to Hermann. Around two months ago, Newton began cutting out of work early three nights out of the week and coming back each following morning suspiciously ill-rested and in wrinkled clothing. When pressed, he admitted to Hermann--eventually--that he had begun dating again. (“Nothing serious,” he said. “A few guys. It’s just--I need an outlet, y’know? A sex kind of outlet?” “Yes, Newton, I understand,” Hermann snapped. He hadn’t said what he really wanted to say, which was I could be that for you. An admission like that was far too desperate. As it was, he merely proceeded to spend the next few weeks simmering with jealousy and fervently hoping Newton’s mystery man of the night would walk off a cliff.)
“Another one?” Hermann says.
Newton had begun dating again, but that did not necessarily mean the dates were going well. He cycled through them faster than he did pairs of socks. (The last one had kicked him out before they even surpassed “second base,” Newton admitted to Hermann sadly, because Newton couldn’t stop giggling over a joke he’d heard earlier in the day.) “Yes, another one,” Newton says. “He’s really cool, Hermann. Super dreamy. Brown eyes--a smile that--”
“Very fascinating, Newton, I’m sure,” Hermann interrupts, unable to help himself from bristling. He is not going to sit idly by and listen to Newton describe--well--effectively his romantic rival. “Unfortunately, I have a great deal of work to do today and I can’t stop to talk.” He grabs a random stack of documents and begins to scrawl across them blindly.
Newton is silent for an unsettling amount of time. Hermann looks up to find he’s jammed his mobile down his trousers once more.
“Newton,” he says.
“I just can’t get a good angle,” Newton huffs, marching over to Hermann’s side. “It’s all turning out blurry. Look!”
He thrusts his mobile up in front of Hermann’s face before Hermann can even contemplate averting his eyes, treating Hermann to an--indeed--very blurry photograph of what appears to be his genitalia. In all the times Hermann fantasized about being face-to-face with that particular part of Newton’s anatomy, he can’t say this is how he expected it to happen; yet, at the same time, he’s not surprised. It was bound to either be something like this or a lab shower incident.
Hermann pushes the phone aside with the tip of his index finger. “I see,” he says.
It’s is shoved back under his nose. “Do you think this is sexy?” Newton says.
Hermann says nothing, though the answer would’ve been yes. Newton could show him a photograph of his left pinky and Hermann’s lonely, sex-starved, Newton-infatuated brain could twist it into something dazzlingly erotic. He thinks if he were on the receiving end of the picture on Newton’s phone his brain might fizzle into nothing and melt out from his ears. He thinks he’s close to it now.
Newton shakes his phone. “Help me, dude!”
“I don’t bloody know,” Hermann finally snaps, once he remembers how to speak. “I don’t know why you want my help, or how I’m meant to be helping in the first place--do you want me to take the damned photographs for you?”
This, as it turns out, is precisely the wrong thing to say.
Exactly one hour later, Hermann finds himself in Newton’s bunk, holding Newton’s beat-up iPhone, as Newton attempts to wriggle out of his impossibly tight skinny jeans. His button-down has already met a similar fate, and it lays--crumpled--in the corner by his boots and socks. “You ought to know,” Hermann says, “that wasn’t an offer.”
(You’re my best friend, Newton said. I trust you more than anyone, Newton said. It’s what lab partners are for, Newton said. I really want to get laid, Newton said. Can you help me take my shirt off? Newton said.)
“It’ll be real fast,” Newton says. “And so much easier with an audience. You can tell me what works and what doesn’t, get better angles... Boxers on or off?”
Oh, bugger, Hermann thinks miserably. “Er. Whatever you prefer.”
“Off,” Newton says.
His boxers have small frogs on them, and they end up in the pile with his jeans and button-down after a few more minutes of strategic hopping. Then Newton spreads his arms wide and beams proudly. “Alright, cool! Picture time!”
“You can’t really expect to seduce anyone like that,” Hermann says to the wall to Newton’s left.
Newton’s arms fall to his side. From the corner of his eye, Hermann sees him pout. “I can’t?”
“No,” Hermann says, and--with a sigh--caves in and looks fully at Newton. His tattoos go all the way down. Not that that helps Hermann in any way. “The lighting is terrible. You have rubbish everywhere. And--you ought to be lying down, not standing like that. And--here--”
Hermann thrusts Newton’s phone back at him and proceeds to clatter around his bunk, making it as presentable as any living space of Newton Geiszler could possibly be without severe intervention. Newton’s dirty laundry is shoved out of sight under his bed with the aid of Hermann’s cane; the overhead fluorescent light switched off and replaced with the warm glow of Newton’s bedside lamp; the crumpled paper and crushed energy drink cans littering Newton’s desk tipped into the trashcan; Newton himself pushed back on his bed, soft thighs splayed open, mouth parted in mild surprise, gaze wide and eager behind his crooked glasses and focused in on Hermann. “Am I good now?” he says.
Oh, someone help Hermann. “Yes,” he croaks. “Ah--back against your pillows. And--your hands--ah, however you’d like them.”
Hermann’s mouth is dry as cotton and his hands are shaking as badly as anything as he takes a series of pictures of Newton, each one--somehow--more tantalizing than the last: Newton winking, Newton with his hands on his thighs, Newton on his stomach with his arse in the air, Newton with his hand around--
Hermann drops the phone, and it clatters to the ground. Newton sits up quickly. “Sorry,” he says, noticeably pink in the face. “Too much?”
“No,” Hermann stammers. “It’s whatever you--your date--would like. I merely--wasn’t expecting it. No, don’t get up!” He bends over and snatches up the phone before Newton can get to his feet. He doesn’t want to chance getting too close to a naked Newton (unsure of what he’d do, frankly), or chance Newton getting too close to him and discovering that Hermann’s trousers are doing a rather poor job of disguising his interest in the proceedings. Hermann might be able to explain it away by blaming simple gut instincts to seeing a nude, moderately attractive man sprawled about in front of him (as Newton, after all, is sporting an obvious arousal himself, likewise something to be blamed on being on display), but he’d rather not.
Newton shrugs and begins to rummage around in a drawer next to his bed. “Okay,” he says, “pink or sparkly, you pick.”
“Pink?” Hermann says, furrowing his brow. Is it lingerie? Some fancy underwear? Newton’s never struck him as the sort to tress himself up in bows.
It turns out it’s neither. “Good choice,” Newton says, and presents a garish, rather intimidating hot pink dildo to Hermann. “It’s easier to suck on.”
“Oh,” Hermann squeaks.
Newton insists on introducing props into their photo shoot (he calls it) after that, and it’s not until Hermann takes a third shot of a lab coat-clad Newton sucking away at an esoterically shaped sex toy that Newton finally stops and declares it a night. And just in time at that. If Hermann doesn’t readjust his trousers soon, he may lose circulation to the lower half of his body.
Newton presses Hermann’s hand with far more sincerity than circumstances call for when he stands to retrieve his mobile phone. “You’ve been a huge help,” he tells Hermann, grinning and beaming up at him. At least he’s left the lab coat on: Hermann might’ve keeled over entirely if a fully nude Newton got this close to him. As it is he merely wobbles, something which he hides easily by shifting more of his weight to his cane. “Seriously,” Newton continues, “these are exactly what I wanted. He’s gonna love them.”
“Very good,” Hermann says. He nods stiffly. “I hope they work.”
“I have a good feeling they will,” Newton says.
Hermann has a very satisfying wank-off session in his bunk afterwards. As he lays there, sweat cooling on his skin, breathing slowly calming down, and the image of a labcoat-clad Newton cupping himself burned permanently into his retinas, he’s surprised to hear his mobile go off on his bedside table. Approximately two people ever attempt to contact him through it--his sister, and Newton--and he can’t imagine why either of them would need him right now.
It’s Newton, as it turns out. More specifically--it’s Newton’s nudes. He’s attached a small winking emoticon at the end of the series of pictures. Then (as Hermann stares at his phone, and the night’s handiwork, in disbelief), a moment later, my bunk?
Oh, how mortifying--Newton must’ve meant to send them to his mystery date. At least it was Hermann he sent them to and not someone else. Newton, it’s me, Hermann replies. Hermann.
i know ;) Newton replies.
Oh.
Hermann does up his trousers and stumbles out the doorway.
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The Girl Part 8
Pairings - The Mandalorian/Reader
Warnings - cursing, descriptions of canon-typical violence and blood
Word Count - 1,627 words
Tag List - @baar-ur @bruithel @jarrendyn @gothtechie@maryan028@aethersghoulette@hellobinayxo @guineapigzwei @random922929 @iamwarrenspeace @deputy-videogamer @littleevilme03 @ah-callie @sunkissed-winter @ashjustlikesthings @claynarwale @spottedlekkudancer @sabi615 @waddles03 @greatfandomsgalore @missnightingale97 @delectablyvaliantmentality @backontheolebullshit @a-hopeless-fan @crushingonmando @superfluffy92 @thirstyforvenom @stxriss @ababysupernova @biolo-tea @londelle @pisss-offf-ghostt
“Put the baby in your bag,” he whispered to her. (Y/N) nodded mutely and reached to place the child inside the canvas, shushing it quietly when it began to protest. Whoever this man was, it couldn’t be good.
She saw the Mandalorian’s hand that was around her shoulders go to his blaster and she started to panic. Turning towards him with worried eyes, (Y/N) drew in a shaky breath, the air knocking hollow in her chest.
The Mandalorian got up slowly as he faced the man, drawing himself wide, and kriff, have his shoulders always been that broad? She suddenly remembered just how intimidating he was, reminding herself that this was the same man that let her place flowers on his helmet so her legs wouldn’t quiver as she stood.
“Dorrick,” he acknowledged with a nod, seemingly calm. If it was an act, it was damn convincing.
Half-hiding herself behind the Mandalorian’s back, she eyed the man, apparently named Dorrick, standing a few feet in front of them. The setting sun backlit the weapons holstered to his hips in a bright, burning orange, and she noticed the strap of a rifle digging into the meat of his shoulder. A bounty hunter, she thought, her eyes widening. She noticed that the rifle wasn’t blaster-modified like most, instead, it looked like it held metal bullets. Old fashioned, too.
“Do you have any idea the price on your head? They’ve got half the galaxy looking for you and here you are, sight-seeing,” he chortled, his head thrown back.
The Mandalorian said nothing at this, drawing (Y/N) closer behind him with a protective hand.
“Ah-ah ah,” Dorrick tutted as he came close, “Don’t hide her from me.” He laid a grimy finger on her face, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. The Mandalorian’s shoulders tensed at this, hand clenching against the trigger of his blaster. She wrenched her face away from the man’s touch, shivering.
“She’s a pretty little thing,” the man mused, stepping back from them, “I might just keep her for myself.”
The Mandalorian lunged forward at this, metal scraping against metal. She could hear the faint sound of him shooting, but the blaster missed and everything descended into chaos, blurry and deafening.
Suddenly, all (Y/N) could see and hear and feel was red. White-hot fire licked at her skin, burning her from the inside. She grimaced in pain as a rough hand gripped her arm and hoisted her to her feet. She hadn’t even known she had fallen.
It took her hand coming away sticky from her side for her to realize Dorrick had shot her, grabbing her after the fact. He covered her mouth with his free hand, muffling her gasp as he spoke.
“It’s a shame y’know,” he smiled down at her, breath rotting of something alcoholic, “I don’t make a habit of shooting ladies, especially not ones so beautiful, but it seems like you’re not gonna give in easy. My employers want you alive, so play nice.”
(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut, trying to move her face away from him as he spoke. The thin fabric of her shirt was quickly becoming soaked in crimson, and her head felt light. The only thing she could compare it to was when she had snuck champagne from the palace kitchens as a young girl, making her head foggy and her stomach feel like it was floating. Only this was much, much worse.
“Let her go,” the Mandalorian said, stepping closer and aiming a blaster to the man’s head.
She felt the muzzle of the rifle jam against her temple and she resisted the urge to bite down on his hand. Right now, her chances of getting shot again were about 50/50. If she startled him, the odds wouldn’t be so favorable.
“Take another step and the next one goes in her head,” Dorrick seethed, pushing the gun further into her head, finger on the trigger. She looked over at the Mandalorian with wide eyes, silently hoping he had some sort of plan before she bled out. Dorrick shifted his hand down to grip near her shoulder. To her surprise, the Mandalorian set down his blaster, leaving it on the ground with his hands up. What was he doing?
“I’ll go with you,” the Mandalorian began hesitant, “If, and only if,” he turned to look at her and suddenly (Y/N) realized what he was about to say. She mouthed a silent no, desperate and wide-eyed, but she could do nothing to change his next words.
“You let her go,” he finished firmly.
Dorrick smiled, practically purring. He let the hand around her upper arm go limp, but kept the gun to her head. She could already feel the bruises from his grip forming atop the old ones that never healed, creating a patchwork of sickly yellow and lilac.
“See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” the man teased, reaching into his pockets for what (Y/N) assumed were shock-cuffs. Reminded of the ones that used to bind her, she let out a shiver, and then promptly winced when the movement reignited the pain in her abdomen. She hadn’t realized getting shot hurt so much. Sure, she was a medic, she had seen men get their limbs blown off and didn’t even blink at the sight of a blaster wound anymore, but that was a lot different than getting shot yourself. Remembering how many times she had stitched the Mandalorian up after a busted hunt, she vowed that, if they got out, she would try to be more gentle with him.
(Y/N) heard the Mandalorian sigh through the modulator of his helmet as he crossed over to Dorrick. She hoped it was for show. She hoped he had some secret, elaborate escape plan, like he always did, and they would get off Naboo alive. Seeing the way his head dropped, though, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
Dorrick grabbed the Mandalorian’s wrists with his free hand, pushing (Y/N) down with a forceful shove. She landed on her side, elbows scraping on the scraggly ground, and her eyes caught sight of the canvas bag still laying on the blanket. The baby, she gasped quietly. Dorrick hadn’t seen it peeking its head through the flap, too busy threatening their lives to notice. But she noticed.
Whispering a quiet plea, she locked eyes with the child and hoped it understood. If not, she didn’t know what else to do.
Turning to where Dorrick now stood, she watched, body too broken to do anything else, as he began to cuff the man that had once seemed invincible. Now, he just seemed resigned. Before Dorrick could place the shackles around the Mandalorian’s wrists, however, he let out a haggard cough, sputtering as his neck turned red around his collar. He grasped at himself with shaking fingers, eyes bulging when he realized there was no hands around his throat. (Y/N) let out a relieved laugh, turning to the child who was holding its small hands out, eyes shut in concentration. Coughing into her hand, she tried to ignore the specks of blood that dotted her palm.
A heavy thud let her know that Dorrick had dropped the cuffs, and another thud let her know that the Mandalorian had grabbed the rifle, shoving the tail-end of it upside his head with a crack so loud it made her wince. The man crumpled to the dirt, eyes rolling to the back of his head, but the Mandalorian didn’t even glance at him as he rushed over, crouching to sit where (Y/N) lay on the ground. She could see the child, hands now at its sides, slumping over, exhausted.
He lifted up her tunic and the cool evening air stung against her raw skin. He cursed under his breath and let her clothes fall back down, brushing away the sweat that beaded at her temple.
Reaching underneath her arms, the Mandalorian pulled her to sit up, her chest facing his. (Y/N) whimpered at the movement, holding in a choked cry when his hands brushed against the wound at her side. No bullet was lodged, at least, not that she could feel, so that meant it had gone straight through. An inch more or so and it would have missed entirely, but fate had never been kind to her.
When the fireworks began, (Y/N) let out the sob that had been bubbling in her throat, the sound turning into a laugh. She rested her forehead on his armour, and could make out the reflection of the lights now bursting above their heads on the polished metal.
They were giving her a headache, but she would live. The shot hurt like a bitch, she was close to fainting, and she had lost at least a pint of blood, but she would live. She would live and he was there with her, his gloved hands rubbing soft circles into her back as she hiccuped into his chest. (Y/N) could hear him whisper phrases in Mando’a, but all she caught was the word “cyar'ika.” She couldn’t for the life of her remember what it meant.
“Can you stand?” the Mandalorian asked softly after a few moments, careful not to jostle her. He didn’t wait for her to answer before getting up from the ground, setting the canvas bag over his shoulder and reaching down to take her in his arms.
It wasn’t until they had made it back to the ship, after she had reminded him to stitch evenly through pained gasps, and after he had set her down on his cot (It’s bigger, he had said, not letting her argue), that (Y/N) finally had a minute to think.
Wracking her brain in the halfway state of dreaming and being awake, her whole face flushed pink when she remembered that “cyar'ika” meant sweetheart.
#i was so pumped to write about baby yoda force choking someone#the mandalorian#the mandalorian tv show#the mandalorian tv series#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfic#the mandalorian fic#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x y/n#din djarin#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin fanfic#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#star wars#star wars universe#star wars fanfiction#star wars fanfic#the girl#the girl part 8#flower-petal-blooming
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It was a plot point that the white quill came from a white owl seen with Rakepick, so that would indicate the black quills came from an actual black bird. White quill also had a warning message in Japanese - MC assumed it was for the wizard in white robes, but there happens to be another Japanese person in the cast. Someone wondered if the comb prank means Tulip may have Merula's hair - and with Penny being easily distracted and a bit gullible, it'd be easy to get polyjuice off her ch35 batch.
I’d forgotten that, and honestly I’m sure how that even works. Because what I said earlier about the quills...that still stands. They were never supposed to be quills originally, they were messages transfigured into quills. It can’t be some kind of mind game where R harvested feathers and them turned them into roles of parchment, it has to be the other way around, because MC always uses the “reverse transfiguration” spell on the quills, and it works. So, that’s a bit of a hole if you ask me. Then again, it might not apply to the White Quiils. I can’t remember if MC uses Reparifage on them or not.
But Rakepick absolutely has a white owl and it’s curious that we’ve never revisited that. Could be one of many abandoned plotlines that this game sadly has, but if this does come up again, I’d hope for some clarification on that inconsistency. Clarification that we likely will not get. What we are likely to get is a wink-at-the-audience reveal that this owl is actually a young Hedwig. I’m not kidding, the moment I heard that Rakepick had a white owl, that was my guess. It’s highly unrealistic, and it would make far more sense for this to simply be...y’know, another white owl, but Jam City loves their canon references too much to not do that.
Though Tulip has been confirmed by Word of God to be Japanese...I hesitate to speculate too heavily on the idea that Tulip and the White-Robed Wizard could be connected, solely for that reason. Maybe they are, as I don’t believe they’ve ever shared screen-time, and I’d still happily take any role she could play in the story... but I don’t want to jump to that conclusion with no evidence other than them having the same race. Not implying anything sketchy about that theory, I’d just need a little more to go on.
That being said, the Comb Prank being used to procure hair, and the fact that we used Polyjuice potion earlier this year...both of those ideas do add up well to the conclusion that someone is polyjuicing someone else, or is going to do so in the future. I still don’t think this is in the efforts to fool MC into believing Merula is the mole (That would be so easy to verify as not being true after the fact) but if there does turn out to be a polyjuice identity reveal down the line...well, they set it pretty well, I’ll give them that.
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