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mrsparrasblog · 1 month

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SAUNA SOAP🌞

You hated your job. Working in the SPA of a 5-star hotel was not as luxurious as people made it out to be. The therapist got tipped while you needed to do the infusions, clean around the mess the guests left, deal with touchy customers, and worst of all, tell guests all over again that they can't fuck in the sauna, pool, or whatever. Well, at least you got paid 1pound above the minimum wage.

So you spent another day standing at the front desk of the SPA and trying to look useful. Nothing ordinary happened until a handsome Adonis walked into the spa. Fuck, he came up the elevator wearing only a towel around his hips, not hiding his perfect sculpted abs; he looked like an Adonis; his biceps was probably bigger than your head; and you looked up to see his beautiful face. His face had some badass scars, wrinkles, and the most gorgeous set of eyes you ever saw in your life.

"Good morning, sir. How can I help you today?" you said, trying to hide your enormous blush from him. You were used to naked people in front of you, but this man was different; he made your legs press together behind the corner, like a horney slut.

"Awright bonny, a'm 'ere fur th' sauna cuid ye shaw me th' wey" You hated yourself for not understanding him, but his voice was already the cause of your wet dreams for the next few months.

"I'm not called Bonny" was the only response you could gather to say and point to your nametag.

He chuckled, "Sorry, lass, I'm used to people understanding my accent. Could you show me the way to the sauna, please?"

"Of course, sir, please follow me." You walked out behind your reception, guiding him the way through the almost empty SPA.

"No need to call me, sir; I'm not much older than you," he said, throwing you a cheeky smile.

"We're here" He went into the sauna and thanked you. And you hated yourself for not being able to flirt with this man. This was a one-time chance to meet a man who was able to be on the new season of the bachelor of your county, and you failed.

After a few hours, you prepared an infusion smelling like amber and peppermint, so you went to the sauna. To your disappointment, your new customer crush wasn't there. You started with your usual show, throwing towels around and then leaving the sauna. Leaning against a wall, panting after being in the 90-degree sauna.

And there it was again, a man approaching you without a towel wrapped around his hips as if it weren't common courtesy to hide your own, oh god, erect cock. You tried your hardest to look into his eyes, but that ugly dick of his was like a car accident earthquake and a fire at the same time.

"If it's too hot for you, I wouldn't mind seeing you less clothed; you must be sweating in this tight and long uniform," he said, tucking your hair behind your ears.

You were more than disgusted by this behavior, but it was nothing new for you. "Sir, I feel uncomfortable with this situation."

"Come on, little bird, you girls take these things so seriously. I was just flirting a bit."

"And I want you to stop flirting," you said, sounding confident and not showing an ounce of your fear. You knew there wasn't much staff around anymore.

"Come on, Birdy, I paid so much for my stay; there should be something in it for me." He started to put his hand on your hips, pulling you closer to him. You were so ready to fight him off, but before your knee could make contact with his crotch, the Adonis men was behind you, towering over you.

"She said no, you better leave now or I'll help you leave bastard." You fell behind in his massive frame after the man pulled away from your hip.

"Sorry, mate," he said, walking out of the spa to his hotel room with a hint of embarrassment. Asshole was afraid of Adonis.

You turned around to face him, blushing at how close you were. "Thank you, sir."

"No problem, lass, call me Johnny, not this Sir nonsense," he smirked at you, and you felt like you melted on the ground immediately.

"Okay, thank you, Johnny. You can have a drink on the house; just grab something from the bar." This would be the least you could do.

"When urr ye off, a'm waantin' tae keep edgy fur ye nae that that bastard comes back." You felt the butterflies in your stomach when he said he wanted to protect you.

"Johnny I'm a big girl; you don't need to ruin your vacation by looking out for a stranger."

"Beautiful stranger." You blushed at his compliment and thanked him. You worked for the next three hours and then started to clean everything so you could close. When you locked the door, only you and Johnny were there. You approached him, but he still sat in the sauna. His marvelous body was glistering with sweat, just like his weird but funny hair. You noticed how he sat there with his legs wide open without a towel, so you had a perfect view of his manhood.

"Aye, sorry, I didn't notice ye" he said, hiding his manhood from you.

"Don't worry, I see them every day."

"Och, ye dinnae ken how tae flatter a lad," he said, acting fake hurt, which gifted him a slight chuckle from you. "Ye kin at least admit a'm a het lad."

"You're a hot lad, Johnny. Happy?" Your eyes wandered down his abs.

"Take a picture; it lasts longer."

"Uhm, sorry, I just think you're very handsome. I like your biceps."

"Do you want to touch it, hen?"

You nodded, slightly embarrassed; this is still your workplace after all.

Johnny's breath hitched slightly as you touched him, his muscles tensing. "Feel that, sweetheart? That's pure Scottish strength. It's also quite sensitive... If you know how to handle it properly."

"You work out a lot?" You asked already knowing the answer.

Smirking, Johnny leaned in close, whispering in your ear. His stubbles touched your neck as he did this.

"Aye, lassie. I work out every chance I get. And believe me, it's more than just to maintain my looks." Soap grinned, flexing his bicep slightly for you. "Feel that again, lass. You can't deny the pure muscle you're touching. And don't even get me started on these abs. I've been told they're quite impressive." He was pretty arrogant, but you couldn't deny that he was allowed to be arrogant after looking like this.

"They are. I'm sorry I'm acting unprofessional." You remembered your minimum wage job.

Johnny chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Oh, don't apologize, hen. Unprofessional behavior can be quite endearing. Besides, I'm not one to judge." He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper.

As your gaze dropped lower to his prominent V line and his thick happy trail, Soap caught the subtle hint of curiosity in your eyes. Leaning back slightly, he ran his free hand teasingly over his toned abs before continuing. "You seem quite interested in this area, don't ya?"

You blushed immediately. "I'm so sorry."

Johnny chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Sorry for what? For being a horny wee lassie? There's nothing wrong with that." He reached down, his fingers tracing the outline of his hardened member through his towel. "See this?"

"Oh, Johnny," it was thicker than anything you had in your life and will have.

With a devilish grin, Soap pressed his thick shaft against your stomach, causing you to gasp. "Want a taste?" he asked softly.

"I work in this Spa and you are a customer Johnny I can't just blow you in the Sauna"

Johnny chuckled again, pulling his cock back from you. "Didn't say you had to blow me?" he replied with a wink. "Though I wouldn't mind that." You couldn't stop laughing at his comment.

Soap smirked at your laughter, taking it as a good sign. "Listen, hen," he started, his voice now low and rough with desire. "I've had my fair share of women throwing themselves at me, but you're not throwing yourself at me. You subtle, I like that, and I never had sex in a sauna, and you're one hell of a looker, the most beautiful girl I've seen in ages."

"I never had sex in a sauna too."

"So" He unwrapped the towel around his waist, making sure you got a good look at his hard cock pointing at you. "How about we fuck in the sauna?"

"That's pretty forward, Johnny."

He chuckled warmly at your comment. "Aye, lass, I'm forward when I want something," he replied confidently, taking a step closer to you. "And I really want this."

As you watched in anticipation, Soap slowly unbuttoned your uniform, revealing more of your delectable body with each button that flew open. His eyes roamed hungrily over your curves, taking in every detail. "Yer sae bonny"

Once your pants were off, Soap gently pushed you onto the bench in the sauna, his eyes locked onto your clothed sex. He took one of his thick fingers and started to circle your clit with it. You couldn't help but moan; he was doing it better than any man before. He didn't treat you like a scratcher; he knew what he did, which made you feel insecure. Of course, men like him would have more experience than you do.

"You look and sound like an angel; can I—my little man can't wait any longer?" You laughed at his words and just nodded.

He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance before slowly pushing inside.

"God, that's fast." You whined as he split you in half with his thick cock.

Johnny grunted in pleasure as he felt you tighten around him. "Fuck, lass," he groaned, starting to thrust slowly inside of you. His hands found their way to your tits, squeezing them roughly as he took his time fucking you.

Johnny picked up the pace, slamming his hips against yours as he fucked you hard in the sauna. The sound of your flesh slapping together filled the small room, echoing off the walls.

His cock throbbed inside of you, reaching deeper with each thrust. Your body glistened with sweat in the hot sauna. Johnny growled low in his throat, his face contorting with pleasure as he continued to pound into you. Sweat dripped from his body onto yours.

"Fuck, you're so tight." You scratched his back, gripping hard on his biceps. You needed to hold back and not cum too fast so you couldn't embarrass yourself in front of him.

Johnny hissed in pleasure at the scratches down his back, leaning into the bite and scratch marks on his neck as he felt you grip his biceps. His hips picked up speed, slamming harder into you as he reached around to pinch and twist your nipples.

Feeling you close to orgasm, Johnny moved a hand between your legs, rubbing your clit firmly as he continued to pound into you. His fingers circled your swollen bud, teasing it until you cried out incoherently. "Johnny"

Johnny groaned, feeling himself getting closer as well. He picked up the pace even more, slamming into you harder as he leaned forward to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting gently.

He growled low in his throat as you wrapped your legs around him, taking him deeper inside of you. He moaned into your skin, his teeth grazing lightly as he nipped at your other nipple. "Fuck," he panted, "I'm going to cum."

"Mhm, you can cum inside; I'm on the pill." It was foolish of you to let a stranger cum inside of you, but you were too fucked out to properly think.

Hearing your enthusiastic agreement, Johnny let out a groan of relief as he felt his climax building. With one last hard thrust, he erupted inside of you, his cock pulsing as he shot his hot cum deep inside your wet cunt.

Johnny panted, his heart racing, as he leaned down to kiss your full lips. "That," he whispered against your lips, "was fucking incredible." He pulled out of you slowly, his still-hard cock slipping out of your pussy with a wet pop.

"I usually don't do things like this with strangers, I swear." This was your first nightstand and even in your workplace. What must he think of you?

"Well, I'm glad you made an exception for me." Johnny grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He reached down to stroke his cock a few times, getting it slick with his own precum before pressing the head against your entrance again. "Ready for round two?" This man must be joking, right?

"Another one?"

"You bet your sweet ass I am," Johnny growled, pushing his thick cock back inside of you in one swift motion. He slid in completely this time, his hips meeting yours as he began to thrust into you again, harder and faster than before.

You needed to regain power so you wouldn't come immediately "Mhm, fuck, let me be on top."

"You got it," Johnny grunted, pulling out of you so that you could mount him. He helped guide your hips as you positioned yourself on top of him, his hands sliding down to grab your ass and pull you closer.

You bounced on his dick with so much passion and enthusiasm as he had never seen in a woman; you were so eager to please him and so eager to sleep with him. You weren't like this usual starfish woman; you were perfect.

Johnny moaned, loving the feeling of your wet pussy slamming against his cock as you rode him with all your might. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he watched you in awe. "Fuck me, woman. "Yeah, I'm definitely feeling that." Johnny groaned out, his body arching off the ground as you continued to ride him. He reached up to grab one of your tits, squeezing it gently before rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"A Boob Guy, huh?"

"Well, I'm a man," Johnny chuckled, running his free hand down your back to your ass before squeezing it. "And I definitely appreciate a nice pair of tits." He nipped at your earlobe before biting gently, making you moan loudly. With every movement of your hips, his veiny cock hit your Gspot perfectly, making you whine and moan in pleasure.

"Johnny, I'm close."

He growled, "Come for me then, lass." He held onto your hips, his cock throbbing inside you as he felt you getting closer. Just as you started to tense up, he thrust up into you hard, feeling your pussy clenching around him, milking him as you came undone.

He continued to thrust into you until he couldn't hold back any longer, his cock erupting inside of you with his hot and sticky cum.

Johnny leaned his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged as he held you close. "One hell of a fuck, wasn't it?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes," you stated monotonously. You screwed up your chance of dating this guy by simply fucking him the first time you saw him.

Johnny chuckled softly before kissing your neck, nibbling gently. "Now then, what's got you all wound up?" He asked curiously, running his hands down your back and ass.

"Was this a one-night thing, or could I get your number? Oh god, it's embarrassing. I never had sex with a random man, and now I'm asking for your number. I'm stupid." You started to ramble while looking into his beautiful eyes.

Johnny smiled at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "A one-night thing? Hardly." He said it teasingly, tracing a finger down your cheek. "I'm not the kind of man who gives up so easily once he has a taste."

"So?"

"So, how about we exchange numbers?" Johnny suggested with a grin. "I mean, unless you're afraid, I might call you at all hours of the night."

"I'll give you my number."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise but quickly took out his phone to enter your number. "Alright then, pretty girl." He said, pressing the buttons on his phone. "You've got mine too. Don't forget it." He gave you some sloppy kisses and helped you put on your clothes again.

Before he left, you screamed to him. "Call me."

"I will," he assured you with a wink, and he left the spa on his way to his hotel room.

A moment later, your phone rang, and you answered. "Hello?"

"I promised to call you, Mo leannan

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xmissrogersx · 2 months

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“Video Games” | Joel Miller

tags: Post-Outbreak. Jackson life. Domesticity. Fluff. Ellie being the cutest daughter.

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

pris masterlist

A summer day was passing through the small community of Jackson. The trees provided a pleasant breeze that urged the children to play in the streets before going to school; and the flowers in the windows of the houses provided colors that made them forget the darkness of the outside world.

-That's all for today, honey —Maria peeked down the hallway.

-Are you sure you don't need me? I can stay and help you.

-Of course not, you covered a lot of time when I had to take care of my neglectful husband —she exclaimed, making us both laugh.

I grabbed my bag and walked out of the cozy little library and walk to home. Home. After so many years, i have a home to come back. I crossed the only street to see him at the end of the driveway, sitting on the front porch playing his guitar next to Ellie.

-Paris! Look... —she played a few light chords, causing Joel to look up with fatherly pride.

-I knew you'd make it.

-I have to go tell Lily —she got up and walked out as if his life depended on it, but came back to give me a brief but tender hug.

-Thank you for helping me with my literature homework, I wouldn't have understood a shit what the author was saying if it wasn't for you —and before I could answer she ran back to her friend's house.

Excitement was getting the better of me again as I tried to keep my eyes from watering. I turned to see Joel with his gaze locked on me, which was getting darker as his brown orbs swept over me. I bit my lower lip in provocation.

-Come here, angel —he patted his thigh and extended his hand.

Taking refuge in his strong arms, smelling his pine scent mixed with the slight hint of scotch, as I snuggled into his chest was the definition of what I enjoyed most about my day.

-How was work? —he asked, stroking my leg, lifting the fabric of my dress slightly.

-Just me and a stack of books. I love it. I helped a couple of guys look for one...¡oh!, and one girl wanted to read a story about friendship and adventure. Please Joel tell me if I'm talking too fast —I covered my face in embarrassment.

His laughter echoed in my ears, sending a shock through my body. Every time he laughed I recorded his melody in my mind.

-I could never get tired of listening to you, darlin’. And what book did you recommend her?

-Little Women. I remember when I was little I managed to smuggle it out of the QZ zone. It helped me forget about all the crap outside for a while. I'd pretend I was one of the March sisters, and I'd play Pilgrims and decorate the house for the holidays.

-You can do it now —I cocked an eyebrow at her response.-Ellie would like it. She loves everything you do together, and Maria could help you with the costumes.

I reached up to his face to place a kiss on his chin, cheek and forehead, and then our lips met. I wanted him to know that I adored how he protected and adored me day by day. And that I was his, today and always.

-Joel Miller, you old softie —I said, earning a pinch on my thighs.

-Do you want to know what you're doing to this old man by wearing that dress?

My lungs had run out of air in a second, despite the rushing wind. That's what Joel was doing to me. I nodded slightly, playing along. I put my legs on either side of his lap, and rested my hands on his chest.

I unbuttoned his shirt, and caressed the scars that adorned his torso, kissing them one by one, as I lowered my hand to the buckle of his pants.

-You're playing with fire, princess —he moaned softly, making me feel powerful as I saw the effect I was having on him.

The county had gathered in the movie theater, leaving the place empty. What an excellent coincidence.

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carnationcreation · 2 years

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OKAY SO A I HAVE A GARETH REQUEST FOR A SHY READER, you can make it platonic or romantic but like.. i feel like there isn’t enough for us shyer people

TITLE: Electric (Gareth Emerson x reader)

✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!

Please check bio to see if requests are open before sending any in!

Pairing: Gareth Emerson x reader

Prompt/summary: Chrissy drags the reader out to a concert, but someone catches her eye and makes her feel electric

Authors note: GAHHHHH I’m so excited about this one y’all. This is the first full fic I’ve written in a while and I’m so happy. There are hints of social anxiety in this, based of my own personal experience, but it’s mostly Gareth being a charmer. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re not… exactly sure how you ended up here. Concerts weren’t really your thing, but somehow Chrissy Cunningham had convinced you to go, just this once, so she wouldn’t be alone.

Her charming smile and the promise of her buying you your ticket and dinner made you cave, but as soon as you saw the drummer of Corroded Coffin made you realize if she had bribed you with that instead you wouldn’t have been so hesitant.

Metal was never your thing. However, if you could watch him forever you surely would make it your thing.

His hair hung like a brown fluffy halo around his head, but even through the bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat you could still see his bright eyes. Eyes that reflected the energy of the band's performance on stage. You knew you were staring for way too long, and you wanted to look away, but it was like watching a car crash. You know you should look away, but sheer awe and curiosity kept your eyes trained on him.

His eyes flicked over to you. Maybe he saw the way your eyes widened, or how you tighten your grip on the can of soda, but he sent a smirk your way that made you want to melt into the floor. The feeling that settled into your stomach wasn’t nerves this time, but instead something different. Something that made your heart pound and breath stutter, in a good way of course.

“Who is that?” You yelled to Chrissy over the music. She followed your gaze across the empty bar to the drummer sitting on the left side of the stage and smirked, “Oh, so Gareth huh?”

You blushed furiously, “I- no. I just wanted to know-“ Chrissy laughed, clapping a hand on your shoulder, “No, no, I’ll introduce you two. Just you wait.”

As far as she knew you had never mentioned about a relationship or even a crush at the time that she knew you. And as Eddie played the last chords of their closing song Chrissy grabbed your hand before pulling you out of the bar and around back to where the band had parked their van to load.

Your palms were sweaty. You checked your hair and makeup in the reflection of the van as Chrissy chattered about cheer and the next game coming up.

She noticed your lack of conversation and sighed, “Garreth’s cool, I promise. He can be kinda… loud sometimes but I swear he’s a sweetheart. You two would be so cute!”

You could puke.

Nerves built up in your stomach and by the time the band kicked open the back door to begin packing up the van you were an inch from running off without Chrissy.

“You came!” Eddie cheered, setting down his guitar case and wrapping Chrissy into a tight side hug.

“Couldn’t miss your biggest show of the year,” she giggled.

“Oh just you wait,” Eddie said, holding up a finger in proclamation, “We were invited to a battle of the bands up in Pikeville.”

The band had begun to pack up the van, but you still didn’t catch sight of the drummer

“Really?”

Eddie smirked “Yours truly will be jamming it out in competition with bands from all over the county.

“How many heavy metal bands could there possibly be in our county?”

You meant to say it softly but Eddie heard it and sighed dramatically.

“Gareth! Come show her the flyer!”

If you could have died right then, you would’ve. Just to save you the embarrassment.

The drummer came waddling out, a few cases in tow that he dropped gently to the ground before pulling the mentioned flyer out of his pocket.

“It’s gonna be awesome!” He cheered, swiping his fluffy hair out of his eyes and putting the paper into your hand.

You glanced over it, not taking in any of the information while trying to keep yourself from hiding from his beaming smile.

“Are you gonna come gorgeous?”

You looked up, blushing under his gaze, “Um… I’m not sure-”

“Oh she’ll be there, right (Y/n)?”

You looked between her and Gareth.

“Right (Y/n)?” Gareth smiled.

How could you ever say no to that?

“I’ll pay for your ticket,” Chrissy grinned.

She really didn’t have to, “I’ll be there.”

Gareth smiled even wider, if that was even possible. Chrissy, now satisfied with her matchmaking, followed Eddie back inside to help pack up the equipment leaving you and Gareth in the chill of the night.

Gareth began loading his cases into the open doors of the van.

“Need any help?” You offered.

Gareth chuckled, “A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be worrying about a dingy drum set.”

You giggled, trying to relax yourself as you sat on the edge of the bumper. That feeling was there again, and your heart skipped a beat when his eyes caught yours again. A breeze picked up in the alley making you shiver and blowing leaves across the pavement. A shiver passed through your body.

“Here,” Gareth said, offering you his jean jacket before you had even noticed he had taken it off.

Your eyes widened, “Oh, no I’ll be fine. I promise. Chrissy and I are about to leave anyway, gotta be home by eleven.”

Gareth gently grabbed your arm gently before placing his jacket into your hand, “Seriously, take it.”

You sighed, pulling it on before resuming your position on the edge of the van. Eddie came out briefly to toss some cables onto the ground which Gareth began to wrap up and put away, “Now you really look like a groupie huh?”

You chuckled, “That’d be a first.”

“You should wear denim more often, the punk rock look suits you.”

“Does it really?” You laughed, finally uncrossing your arms and letting the sleeves fall past your fingertips, “Maybe I should just stick to my cardigan and jeans.”

“How’d a pretty girl like you end up at something like this?” Gareth asked, tossing the last wire into the van and taking a seat beside you.

You could feel his warmth even through the jacket and part of you wanted to lean into him, “You’re a charmer. And the same reason Chrissy is, just got invited.”

Gareth wrapped his arm around you, but quickly dropped it when he felt your shoulders shift.

“No-” you said, maybe a little too quickly, “It’s- it’s fine, I promise. Just…”

“Shy?”

You nodded, finally turning to see how close his face was.

“Well, if you don’t feel too shy, we’re all heading to Earnie’s after the show next week. You should ride with us.”

You laughed, “I think my parents would kill me.”

His arm came back up around your shoulders, keeping you warm despite the October breeze, “Why? What’s the worst that could happen?” You shrugged, earning a light chuckle from the boy, “Maybe I’m just trying to be a gentleman and take a pretty lady out on a date after a very entertaining show.”

“Maybe you are,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as his eyes flicked down to your lips.

The back door of the bar opened once again, with the rest of Corroded Coffin and Chrissy exiting. She almost didn’t notice where you were as she was laughing hard at something Eddie had just said. But as soon as she did her smile was even wider.

“You ready to head out?” she said, and the look she gave you suggested she was going to question you the whole ride home.

“Yeah, one sec,” you said, about to pull off the jacket to return to Gareth when he stopped you.

“Keep it,” he smirked, “You can give it back to me at the battle.”

Eddie whistled, making you blush furiously but you pulled the jacket back on anyway with a small smile.

“Let’s go boys,” Eddie said, throwing open the driver's side door.

You really didn’t want to get up. Leaving his warmth and this feeling he gave you when he smiled felt like a prison sentence.

Chrissy began her trek back down the alley towards where she parked. Which unfortunately meant that you had to follow her.

A soft grasp on your wrist made you stop, and a chaste kiss was pressed to your cheek, “See you later darling.”

He smirked at your flushed complexion before hopping into the back of the van and closing the door with a small wave. You waved back shyly before walking swiftly to join Chrissy.

It wasn’t until you got halfway home, and talked with Chrissy long and in depth about what happened, that you realized what that feeling was.

It was electric.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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survivalist-anon · 9 days

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Log 3: A new breed of man

8:30 am, waking up from another sleepless night. I prepared my usual breakfast of coffee and eggs. After my week leave, it was about time to comeback to the office....or at least what I consider my office. I work at an wildlife rehabilitation center and reserve, since my wonderful history education career didn't pan out in the I hoped it would....I guess I had to fall back on my previous passion...nature, animals and staying as far away from people as I could be allowed to.

I was just about to enjoy the last bite of my eggs until my phone rang. I could see it was my boss, James (head researcher, local forest ranger for the county, and my ever patient boss.).

I pick it up and answer, "Hey James, I'm heading there as soon as I can ".

"Ah no worries, take your time. I just want to phone in a favor of yah, I need you to head to Mr.Bellcaller's hardware store and pick a few fencing equipment and some other gunbins. I texted you the list just in case. You're up for it?"

Since I come in at least an hour later than everyone else at the center, I'm usually the errand girl before my shift begins...it's nothing really, I actually like to help out if I can. The center's fundings have been cut by the town recently, so any amount of help...well...helps.

"You know it, I should be there in a bit. I'll see you later, sir."

Gives his usual chuckle on the other, "that's my girl. You're going to be on light duty for the week, hope you don't mind making the feed and filing paperwork."

Letting out a releaved sigh, I usually hate those duties but this week I sort of want to lay low. "Thanks James, see you later.", I hang up, pack up my work gear.

A half an hour later I'm at the hardware store. Mr and Mrs Bellcaller were one of the last members of one of the founding families here in Pine Hills. They have the town's utmost respect and most of us consider them the town's designated Grandparents. Their grandkids were around but most of their family lives in Portland.

As I'm looking at the list, it's all fencing material, repair equipment and a few tools. "oh boy...well at least it's not that much." As I get the tools, leaving the larger purchases for last, I hear the door bell ringing as another customer comes in.

"Oh good morning. Welcome back to Bellcaller's Tool Shop, how can we help you today?", Mrs.Bellcaller warmly greets them.

A low, stern and curt tone gently bellowed within earshot, "Greetings, I again require the following building necessities. If your business provides them. It would be greatly appreciated by me and my brothers.", if concrete had a voice....I just heard it.

I head up to the counter and what I find can only be described in one phrase. That is one HUGE man.

An extremely tall, double....no....tripled built man, his muscles taking a space that was only matched by his aura, whom already looked visibly constraint from the claustrophobic space he was in was being attended by Mrs.Bellcaller.

"Oh goodness, well thank you young man. I would also very much appreciate helping you.", she didn't seem mind this guy's absolutely strangeness, couldn't she see that this guy was easily 7 or 8 feet tall. He was dressed up in work casual construction clothes. This man was a monument in a hard hat.

I could barely comprehend what I was looking at... until his smell hit my nostrils. It was a harsh, musk, this guy was what a buffalo was to a regular dairy cow. That wasn't even the strangest part, his stench was doing things to me I'm too embarrassed to elaborate on....I haven't felt this crazy level of sexual high in my life. As I looked at one of the other patrons too see if I wasn't hallucinating what I was feeling, I saw one of the wives of the local farmers here picking up an order. I've never seen another woman so publicly hot and bothered, she couldn't stop looking at him. I'd be worried if I was her husband.

As for me, I was huffing, my heart pounding, I actually thought I was having a panic attack....no...this was so primal I was visibly embarrassed. I couldn't look away from him. Tall, the apex of masculinity, he literally was everything anyone would want out of a man... well physically so to speak.

But he was lazor focused. He didn't look around, he didn't even acknowledge anyone around him. His gaze was harsh, yet...it wasn't scary. It's the same look most men in the military give.

As for Mrs.Bellcaller, I could barely imagine what she's feeling.

She comes back out with a sizable box of industrial nuts and bolts, a few hammers and a farming drill used for drilling holes in much harder clay deposits.

"Oh and the concrete mix is just out in the back, Jack is loading up for you as we speak deary.", she casually notified him.

The man's expression had not changed, but his toned softened at the unexpected help, "Please pardon my ill-kept manners, madame. I shall assist your husband.", he placed a small bag in front of her. She simply takes the bag and places it under the counter for later. "Thank you, your business has been most essential to our cause."

"Oh thank you sweetheart, have a blessed day.", as she waved to him, the man released his 'parade rest' position and robotically walk out the door, carefully trying not to hit the doorway.

It felt like forever, a just a still silence, with the hefty sent of literal manhood still lingering in the store.

"God Dang it, finally that brick shit house has left the building. Smelling like a bull in its worst rut possible, do folks don't know how to shower anymore?! Come on Bridgette!", the man leaves with his wife in tow, probably feeling as emasculated as possible looking at the guy.

"~oh my lord!", it's clear she got it a lot worse since she was across the aisle from him.

I sheepishly walked to the counter, my head was starting to slowly clear. "...ugh...wow...ugh...oh..yeah..um...d-do you have this fencing stuff Mrs Bellcaller?"

How was she so damn calm? She isn't even breaking a sweat....

"Oh hellow Lorey, how are you doin love? Are you doing better? I was mortified when I heard what had happened to Micheal, my dearest condolences.", she gave me a concerned look. She was the closest thing to a real grandmother I could ever ask for.

"Oh, I'm doing better, thank you for asking...also..ugh is it hot in here or something?", I just needed to make sure I wasn't just losing composer because of my hormones.

She giggled a little, "Oh no, but don't worry sweetheart I don't blame you. That gentleman has been coming her for three years now. Handsome fella too! I just love seeing how the men here get all riled up when he and his brothers from that work come over for supplies."

"b-brothers?", I ask.

"oh yes! All just as tall as him.", as she finished her statement Mr.Bellcaller came from the back.

"ooowee. If ain't for Bill paying for all the equipment he buys we'd be out of business by now Margaret. Fine boy too. Just wondering why is he so high strung. Worse than the soldiers up at Tillamook.", he wiped his forehead of his sweat.

"Bill?", I ask again.

"Oh hey Lorey, yep. His name's Bill. Bill Dorn, must be German or something. Anyways, I see yeah need new fencing? Hmm, hopefully we'll be getting some better quality stuff soon. Folks around here have been investing more and more in home protection.", he gave a short jolly smile.

"ah, I can imagine. Again thanks for the help."

After a few minutes of loading the rest of the equipment, I waved goodbye to the Bellcaller's and headed to work. The lingering.... inappropriate thoughts...still putting in a mood I hadn't felt in months.

I arrived at work around 9 or so. With equipment in tow.

"Well well well, if it ain't 'Bear Grills' herself, how's it going!", Jonas, a coworker of mine greeted me with her usual energy. "I heard yah almost bit the dust, what happened?", it was less out of genuine concern and more out of morbid curiosity.

I let out another, exhausted sigh, "it was a big...metal man... with spikes all over his body...I shot an arrow at him...and....boom...'sloded. I have no idea what else happened or why it did.", the story had become shorter and shorter every time I tell it.

"ah what! That's so cool! Is it true that it killed yo-", James walks in hearing a potential fight happened, "That's enough Jonas! Ah there you are Lorey, thanks for stopping by Bellcaller's. Any news from town?", James was always quick to stop any infighting amongst the staff.

"yeah ugh....do any of you know a guy named Bill Dorn?", I see only one person in the office who could have any information on him.

"Oh I know Dorn and his 'brothers'", it was Jeff....

".....what the hell is he doing here?", I already was geared up by Jonas, I didn't need Jeff making it worse for me either.

James unfortunately was reluctant to answer, "Ah yes, Deputy Jeff-"

" Sheriff Deputy Jeff. I have to use the official title now. As per agency policy.", interrupting James.

".... Sheriff Deputy Jeff Colt wanted to stop by as check on you, that's all." By this point, I only knew center had my back because everyone at the wildlife center has had a run in with local PD, most of which resulted in arrests.

"Yes, and I insist on making sure you're safe. Look I understand our past hasn't been the most peachest. But, I still love you.", the sugar in that confession was enough to kill an elephant.

"anyways, I wouldn't go near that...freak. Damn near crushed my hand when we shook. Almost was tempted in slapping him with an "assault of an officer charge". That big lug just stared at me like he nothing going on inside that skull of his. I say he's no good. Probably just some city-slicker.", he crossed his arms thinking his statements had any weight.

No one in the room gave a shit about Jeff's statement, especially me. Jeffrey Colt has been part of the force for a little over a year and he's become a completely different person. He's gain a lot of weight, he's been over bearing with his duties and has already ruined his reputation as the Pine Hills Highschool football champion because of it.

"If you did, you would have cared about a little more enough not to cheat on me.", I did not care anymore on keeping that part a secret, at the same time no one truly knew the real reason why I broke up with him. We both agreed no to say what it was.

The frustration on his face was visible but even knew what I was doing. "hmf, well. I still care enough to make sure you ain't getting yourself hurt, good day. I've got more important duties to attend to." He leaves in a huff.

James, Jonas and several other volunteers look back at me worried. I look at all of their faces, I clear my throat and redo my ponytail that had gotten a little loose on the way to work.

"I'm fine.... everything is fine. He's just being an idiot.", I grab some of the center's paperwork and head to the filing office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, 30 miles north of Pine Hills:

As the long expansive road stretches on for another few miles, the cramped conditions of the truck begin to finally bother Bill.

"hhhhhhhggggggg", he gently turns on the already broken knob of the truck radio.

"Reports of Mystery Armored Entities continue to rise as the spring season begins. Residence within the Albany county, Portland City limits and even reports as far east of the nation in Utah, Chicago, Michigan, Virginia, Georgia and Florida have be reporting these strange and potentially dang-", Bill changes the station, "You're listening to 106.8 Country F.M, where easy listening goes out West!", as a soft country song starts playing, it eases Bill's mind, helping him focus on his mission back home.

Sternly, he looks ahead of him, turns left off road, heading down a tired trail ment for military personnel long decommissioned.

After the bumpy trail ends, he arrives at a make shift metal wall, guarded by one of the metal men. Wearing striking yellow armor, with an insignia of a black fist held proudly up on his left shoulder.

"Hault, Password!", he shouted.

Bill just dryly rolled his window down and stared at the armored individual. "We need bigger vehicles."

"Password Accepted!", the armored man humored his clearly disgruntled brother, "welcome home Bilhard."

Bilhard, waved, thanking his brother. Driving another five minutes, he arrives at a construction site, one that had been painstakingly built in secret for several decades, as expansion for the sit now extends for an unknown amount of feet underground.

"hm, time to continue the Emperor's good work.", gets out of his cramped truck, stretching his arms out.

End of log 3

@kit-williams

#space marine husbandry #space marine #warhammer 40k #imperial fists #survival log

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englass · 1 year

Text

Plains and Valleys

Pairing(s): John Seed x Deputy/Reader

Warning(s): John is his own warning; Possessive/Obsessive Behaviour; John being creepy; Stalking; kind-of Crack, this isn’t taken all that seriously; Not Beta’d; Experimental Piece; NSFW/Explicit, my first (and likely only) attempt at smut -- please kindly let me know if there’s anything else I should warn of here, I don’t know what I’m doing.

Word Count: 4,020

A/N(s): The title is basically a placeholder for while I was writing this because I had no idea what to name it... and truly, I can’t be asked to think of something better for a piece that only exists to see if I can write smut (spoilers: I can’t, but I’m not letting a completed piece rot away in my docs just because I’m embarrassed; I worked and spent time on this damnit!).

On another note, I was gonna just give this piece over as my contribution to WIP day that @derelictheretic was kind enough to tag me in, but decided against it. I’ll post a proper response and WIP later this week or next, so bear with me please hun! Just wanted to get this out there first.

- - -

John had a problem.

Well, he had many problems. Not least of all his growing frustration at the continued resistance from the Fairgraves' in his pursuit for the deed to their ‘establishment’. He also had been unable to play with Affirmation as regularly as he would have liked, so that put him in an even fouler mood than usual. And he wasn't going to even think about the stress he was starting to feel with his brother constantly breathing down his neck; always questioning his actions as though he were a child constantly getting into trouble and needing twenty-four hour monitoring, always asking after the progress of things that take time. A lot of time.

John may have a substantial amount of money at his disposal, but that does not mean he can work miracles.

Not all of the time, at least.

And his problems don’t stop there, oh no. Despite what many likely thought of him (and what a stroke to his ego that is, knowing that people think of him) John was well aware of his problems, his faults. He’d spent a lot of time getting intimate with them, after all; and every now and again they'd crop up like daisies, weeding their way to the surface yet again. He’d become rather good at managing them, if he said so himself, but even John wasn’t perfect (he was damn close to it though, as many would agree). And one fault he hadn’t quite been able to trim back was his tendency to fixate on things; obsess.

He obsesses over his plane, over its upkeep and maintenance, its flight records, the slightest scratch that wasn't there the day before-- how the fuck did that get there!?

He obsesses over the details on the manifestos he’s given, the contracts he’s made, dates and times for resource collection, rotations, their members' personal records (he denies having those), PR management, expenditures and everything in between.

He obsesses over his home, the décor, the colours and lighting, materials used, the whole aesthetic. How he presents himself, the clothes and brands he wears (it’s vain but he needs those creature comforts), his posture, his presence, his overall look that creates an identity that just screams nothing but John.

He obsesses over things.

He knows he does. It’s a faulty blessing.

And he has found something new to obsess over.

John has had a few run-ins with the local Deputies of Hope County in the past. Mostly Joey Hudson, delightful as she is, but ordinarily he doesn’t think too much of them. After all, he’s untouchable and they all know it. There’s no reason to worry about them, let alone waste his precious free time (what little he gets of it) thinking about them. They’re insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing but an inconvenience, an annoyance at most. Completely irrelevant.

But then he saw her.

Standing there, innocuous, looking out at something (for something? Nothing?) in the distance.

There’s a hitch, the catch of a stilted breath.

Where they were keeping her hidden he has no idea, but he is taken the moment he catches that rogue glance of her.

And, strangely, he doesn't know why.

Sure, John and his brothers have been in this County for a good while now and he has never seen her before, so it’s perfectly normal for him to be curious about the unfamiliar face in town. Nothing wrong with that, it’s innocent enough.

Except there’s everything wrong with that.

Because that’s not it.

He can’t even blame his wandering eyes on her appearance; she’s wearing that drab uniform that even a charity shop wouldn’t take, and it does nothing to enhance whatever natural beauty she may have hidden underneath it. Although, the girl-next-door look she gives off is begrudgingly cute (if he dared to utter the word unironically).

Honestly, she’s not the type of woman that he typically would have paid any special attention to back in his lawyer days. Fucked her stupid maybe, for the extra notch in his bedpost, but he likely wouldn’t have taken her number or thought too much about her afterwards. Relegated to just another lay in a long line of bed partners that he doesn’t remember all the names of.

To be blunt, she isn’t anything special.

And maybe that’s part of the appeal, what hooks him in. Because she is different; unassuming and uncomplicated, modest to a point of simplicity. And yet there is something about her that he can’t actively see or name from his spot across the street that has drawn him in without even trying. And he doesn’t know what or why.

It’s as infuriating as it is intriguing.

Perhaps there is some iota of truth in what Joseph had said to him a while ago, John supposed silently to himself at the time: the simplest of things can be beautiful, in their own unconventional ways.

Although his brother could have said as much with far less words, verses, and vague allusions to a potential future that might never be-- a spark of sudden change that sets a new course in motion; scales tipped by the most consuming of emotions; scorched by a soul so deceptively unremarkable that no one would have thought to believe just how uniquely special they would become--

…

……

… Huh…

John creates a special slot in his increasingly hectic schedule just for her from then on out.

He goes out of his way to find more reasons to harass and bother the local population, all in a fruitless attempt to get lucky and have her answer their call for aid and come and tell him what a bad boy he’s being. (Annoyingly she never turns up, though.)

He makes calls and pulls some strings to the businesses he’s procured, makes inquiries to anyone that would listen to him, including those doing menial tasks or even going through their Atonement (they don’t understand the relevancy of his questioning and he may have been a little harsher with them than he should’ve been because of it), and all in the name of his personal investigation into her.

After all, he had argued to himself in front of a cork board covered with documents and pictures of her with a feverish flavour, what sort of Herald would he be if he didn't know everything about everyone living in his-- their, his and his brothers, soon-to-be County?

His invasive and not completely legal search into this new Deputy (and she is new it turns out, freshly transferred in fact) goes on for a full, nonstop month before -- during one of his totally-random-and-not-planned stops into town -- he discovers something else about her.

When he first saw his Deputy (and doesn’t that feel good to say) she was alone, leaning against the wooden beam of the Sheriff’s Department’s porch and staring out into the distant fields; the late afternoon sun haloing her figure in its golden warmth, its light making the colour of her eyes blaze bright and her hair shine silkily. The perfect picture of ease.

This time, when he finally manages to spy another in-person look at her, he finds that she has company. She’s standing next to the ever friendly Hudson, posture held strong by an understated confidence and arms casually crossed beneath her bust, an amused smile on her decidedly pretty face as Hudson talks animatedly about something that he can’t hear.

And she’s looking up at her.

John blinks, and blinks again.

He’s definitely seen her file, he even remembers glossing through her medical records (which he would most assuredly deny having if anyone asked), so he knows how tall she is. But for some reason it apparently hadn’t quite registered to him until now what that would look like in a physical comparison between the two of them.

He knows that the lovely Hudson is a couple of inches shorter than him, not too far off from meeting him eye-to-eye. His Deputy, from what he can see, is about a full head shorter than Hudson. Which would put her, what, roughly just about eye-to-chest with him...?

He thinks about it. Thinks about her next to him, imagines what that would look like. Thoughts surprisingly innocent as he wonders after clichés of reaching for something that she can’t reach, of cocooning her in his arms as he effortlessly wrangles her into his lap. Envisions the domesticity of easily resting his head on top of hers as he holds her from behind, slotting himself into the mould of her figure like matching puzzle pieces, perfectly meant to be and belong…

A high pitched, shaky sound slips free at the mental reel.

It’s not a secret the type of life that John used to live. He has been with numerous types of women, something he used to take a great deal of pride in, and has indulged in and explored his fair share of kinks in the comfort of expensive silk sheets. But who would have guessed that the former playboy, John Duncan now John Seed, would have a thing for domestic bliss.

Or rather, domestic bliss with little. ol’. her.

John makes the executive decision then and there to talk to his Deputy as soon as possible. Preferably alone. Without interference.

It feels like forever before he gets the opportunity.

A week later, on a daily walk through Falls End that has only admittedly become a thing in order to check up on the lucky woman of his blazing affections (I am not stalking her, Jacob, he had grounded out menacingly to his accusing older brother over Sunday dinner; who proceeded to look on at John with a slow quirk of an eyebrow), he finds his ever elusive Deputy resting around the corner of the Sheriff’s Department’s building. Eyes closed, head down, arms crossed, and safely concealed in the shade; unsuspectingly calm in her desired time alone.

And John is quick to ruin it.

He can’t help himself, he really can’t. The opportunity is here and he would be remiss to let it pass him by.

Even if she does look rather serene.

He's seen a few photos of her, more than a few actually-- albums worth even, so he knows what she looks like up close. He even printed one out (it’s a favourite of his, a near perfect replica of the first time he saw her) and has it framed on his bedside table; but it turns out no amount of photos quite do the real her justice.

The closer he gets to her the more he notices how petite she is, how the loose yet deceptively form-fitting hug of her bland uniform subtly accentuates the curves and slopes of her modest figure; the daintiness of her fingers as they rest against the exposed, smooth skin of her arms; that familiar magnetic draw snapping to life in the colour of her eyes as they lazily open, sparkling as he gets closer and she looks up at him, wide and wondering.

Innocent.

Oh, he was so wrong about her, he realises wondrously. Did her such a disservice in his initial judgement of her all those weeks ago. She is far from average.

And being here in front of her, close enough to touch, to be able to easily reach out and trap her against the wall and between his arms if he so wanted to, safely protected under the cage of his form -- her neck craning back in order to comfortably gaze up at him, meeting his eyes as he stares down at her…

It makes something inside him go wild.

John lays the charm on quick and swift, hand attractively running through his hair as a practised but handsome smile lights up his face, eyes twinkling through his lidded gaze with an aweing hunger he knows he is failing to keep hidden.

Getting the first word in, he leans close to the wall, not quite putting his full weight against it (his shirt was expensive) but close enough to allow him a moment of privacy with her by limiting her field of view to only him. Blocking out everyone-- everything else with his taller frame (and doesn’t that thought spark a sudden twitch of interest) as he eagerly monopolises her attention.

Daringly he edges further into her space while he talks ardently to her, truly basking in the unexpected pleasure he gets in watching her unintentionally baring her neck to him; being so beautifully submissive for him without consciously realising it. Amusement colouring his tone in pale notes as he watches the way her pretty eyes darken and narrow at his progressive disturbance and invasion of her time and space.

Fuck. He didn’t know it would be this intoxicating to be so close to her.

Even as he dances through conversation with playful words and hinting remarks, becomes enamoured by the soothing intonation of her voice as she is dragged along with guarded comments and wary retorts, he can’t stop the way his mind ever so sinfully wanders…

It really would be so easy to have her up against this wall. To crowd her in with his frame on all sides and her vision filled with nothing but him. The centre of her universe and attention, him; and his hers. The concept of that sort of all-encompassing intimacy and devotion makes John shudder. Hungry all the more for it and the woman that has unknowingly given him a taste of what it could all be and become, of what that level of pure, unadulterated want is inspiring in him.

He could easily have her against this wall. Have her looking directly skyward up at him as if he were her moon and stars, as he looks directly down at her-- his entire world and more.

Snatch her thigh and hoist it up towards his waist. Have her balancing precariously on the tips of her toes and clutching desperately at him, trusting John to help hold and support her and keep her steady as he shields her from the world around them. Hides her away from the unworthy just as the unworthy have hidden her away from him. His lips sweetly latching onto hers, her taste finally on his tongue after all these weeks of wanting, involuntarily grounding his hips into hers as a desperate sound breaks within his throat.

Oh, John can visualise it now: the two of them breathing in each other's air, bodies flush as he tugs and pushes closer, her shirt riding up as it's snagged by the rough brickwork at her back, arching into him on an unsteady foot to escape its harsh bite. Teeth nipping teasingly at her lips and tongue licking moreishly into her mouth as his free hand roams down her stomach, pulls the rest of her shirt loose and fumbles in his eagerness with the buttons of her jeans, yanking the zipper down and shoving his hand below the waistband and into her underwear. Hearing her whine sweetly into his mouth as he feels just how wet she is for him, how much she wants him and how eagerly she welcomes him into her as he plunges his fingers into her slick cunt with a needy and quaking moan of his own.

Would she want it quick and rough? His fingers thrusting knuckle deep as he presses tight circles to her throbbing clit, teeth at her throat as he claws into her thigh held tightly in the dip of his waist. Listening to how her moans get higher, her breathing gets quicker, turning into desperate little gasps before he tugs his fingers free of her; lips devouring hers in quick apology as he battles to pull his aching cock free, cursing lowly against her lips as his slick covered fingers slip on the metal of his belt. She’d help him, he knows she would -- such a good girl --, nipping and kissing him back with wanton sounds as she bats his hand away, revelling in the noises he makes for her -- only for her, only ever for her -- as she pulls him free; rolling her hips until his cock catches on her slit and he’s thrusting home into her.

Only then -- while feeling her walls flex around him, mouth hanging open as they both bask in finally, finally being so intimately connected to one another -- would he finally hike her other leg up to wrap fully around his waist, fully supporting her weight and driving himself deeper into her, one of his arms coming up to press into the wall beside her, hand caringly slipping behind her head; bracketing her in. Shivering as her breath warms his neck and she cries out for him.

And considering her height… fuck, he can only imagine just how tight she’d be for him, chocking his cock as she squeezes him, milking him for all he’s worth until his teeth are stained red against her lovingly maimed neck. His hips snapping into hers with a guttural growl, panting sensual snarls of encouragement into her ear as he demands and begs in equal measure that she touch herself for him, dexterous fingers chasing her end as he chases his own until-- she’s coming around him with a high and shuddery keen. Her soft walls sucking him deeper into her, legs locking tighter around his waist and keeping him there as he spills himself into the back of her hot cunt with a strangled moan. Claiming her as his as he presses in closer, plugging her full with his cock and cum and praying that it’ll take--

…

……

… Huh.

He will definitely be exploring that at a later date…

Or perhaps she wouldn’t want it like that. Wouldn’t want him to be so rough and careless with her. Maybe she would want him to go slower, to be gentle-- to be good for her, to take his time and truly enjoy and appreciate every sweet beg and whimper that falls from her perfect lips. Perhaps she wouldn’t want to fuck him at the back of her shabby place of work, or even anywhere out in the open; maybe she would prefer privacy, for him to make love to her. Would want him to steal her away into his home, to carefully lay her out on his bed and unwrap her like a delicate gift, hands tracing teasing paths along her body before spreading her wide for his tasting pleasures. Taking his time to truly savour her unique flavour on his palette, wanton sounds pressed into sensitive flesh as he takes her throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks.

Broad strokes of his skilled tongue parting her lips and drinking her down, fingers firm as they hold onto the soft meat of her thighs and hips, thumbs rubbing soothing motions into her skin as he opens her up for him. Urges her with hot breathes, praising words, the flick of his tongue and the dip of his fingers into her wet heat, to cum for him; pleads with sound and touch and a greedy haze over his lust-darkened eyes. The gravel in his gluttonous voice vibrating into her, in love with how she reaches and cries out for him as he tells her how good she’s being for him, how badly he needs her to cum for him-- a debauched sound choking out of him as she does. Completely enraptured as she reaches the height of pleasure -- pleasure he brought her, that he will always strive to bring her --, bearing witness to his own personal God-given vision as he watches her writhe against his sheets and listens to her songs of praise, easing her down from that divine high and back into his devoted embrace.

Kissing a line up to her bitten lips, answering her mewls with soft coos and grounding touches, brushing over a nipple before taking the perky flesh into his mouth with a brief suck and fleeting skim of teeth, letting go with a lingering kiss before moving across and repeating the process to its twin. Reluctantly drawing away to playfully nip and press wet kisses into the column of her throat before letting her taste the tanginess of her juices on his tongue. Languidly kissing as he strokes her sides, writing indecipherable words of affection into her skin, content to let her enjoy the bliss of post-orgasm before he slowly pulls away, descending back down the line of her body with a husky, ‘one more, just one more for me, darling...’

John knows he wouldn’t stop at just ‘one more’ though. Hopefully she’d be generous enough to give him a few more before he finally slakes his need for her.

And hopefully she doesn't see the hard-on he’s now sporting after such vivid fantasies.

In a particularly bold move, temptation spurred into a fever from improper imaginings, John reaches for her; fixates on a strand of hair that has become untucked from behind her ear. She tenses, muscles coiling tight as she gives him the most suspicious look somebody has ever given him before. He’s actually rather offended. And very hurt.

But it’s sobering, in its own way. Because suddenly he can hear Joseph’s voice in his head from last Sunday (what a turn-off…), advising him that if he wanted to pursue a relationship with this Deputy that he was so smitten with then he needed to be gentle, considerate.

John may have done his ‘research’ on her, extensively so, but that did not mean that he was entitled or even deserving of her affections. He could not expect her to be on the same page as him, especially considering he had yet to even interact with her at that point. She may not have even heard of him yet, Joseph had speculated-- John and Jacob quietly sharing a disbelieving look. Everyone in the County knew their names, and with her being a Deputy there was no way she hadn’t heard of them.

Regardless, Joseph’s point still stood: if John wanted a genuine chance with her then he needed to soften himself, to be delicate, more tactful with her. Demonstrate that he can hear and see her for all that she is and can be, and that he accepts her without reservation.

Think of it like Atonement, Joseph had supplied sagely, fingers steepled, she needs to willingly give her confession over to you, John. Her affections. You can’t just take them.

And to Joseph’s credit, that actually made sense to John.

Atonement was all about accepting one’s sins, confessing them to another whom they trusted would never condemn nor judge them for their past actions or choices; unburdening themselves so they may be reborn pure and untainted for the hopeful future ahead of them. In that regard, his pursuit of his Deputy wasn’t too dissimilar.

So in that brief moment, in that flash of hurt as she steels herself against his considerate gesture and where John remembers Joseph’s words, he pauses. Convinces himself to go slower, to not try to grab at her like a spoiled brat reaching for things that weren't his-- yet. Reigns himself in enough so he doesn’t give her anymore of a reason to potentially be wary of him, to which he has very likely just given her quite a few. Trying in his own distinct way to smooth over her obvious distrust of him.

John knows he’s made mistakes throughout his life. Many would say he’s not a good man, and he wouldn’t necessarily disagree with them. But seeing and learning of her, of recalling his brother’s words and advice, of the many fantasies he’s had before and even during meeting her in this moment, he thinks he could change that. Knows that, if she would have him, if she gave him the chance, he’d be good. He’d be good for her.

Joseph always talks about love, about the power and control it wields over people and-- admittedly, John doesn’t completely get it.

But with her? For her? He thinks he just might.

…

He thinks he already does.

#can you tell i didn't know how to end this?#what a mess #plot is less than half baked #but hey i had fun with it so that's good #also #because i love ruining people's day #i can't help but read that first line in Jeremy Clarksons voice. makes this whole thing that bit funnier to me #oh and if anyone would like to draw a certain scene of John and a cork board that would be most appreciated #absolute pinnacle of me going silly with this fic #love it #also also #i was aiming to get this out for halloween because of how scary the writing is but i'm an hour late :(#very typical of me but i'm still disappointed #but it's okay i have my bed waiting for me so all is well lol #john seed x reader #john seed x deputy #john seed x female deputy #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry 5 fanfic #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: stalking #tw: possessive behavior #don't feel like he's that possessive in this but still tagging just in case

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lilibethdrawsreylo · 1 year

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Sneak peek

I'm working on my next hackearney fic, and while I still have several months of writing ahead of me, I can share a short sneak peek with you. No beta, but very mysterious. ;)

Laura comes to North Kill for a grad school research project. Travis is a supernatural entity (kinda?) that pretends to be a sheriff when he encounters people in the woods. The actual sheriff is in on it; here, Laura comes to see him after a brush with a very human danger.

...Laura kinda hoped she was gonna need an appointment or something—to turn tail and come back later. But the receptionist nods at her after saying Laura’s name into a dated office phone’s receiver and stands up to show her the way, as if getting lost between unoccupied desks was a real possibility. It says Sheriff H. Hunnem right there on the frosted glass door.

She knows instantly this isn’t him. While technically she could be looking for a deputy, her gut has been telling Laura she needs the sheriff, and she’s been… bracing, almost, for coming face to face with him. Why, Laura cannot say—not that it matters at the moment.

Sheriff Hunnem is a stocky, older man—probably well into his seventies—with light eyes and drooping gray mustache tinged yellow from nicotine. And he is not the cop who saved her.

“Miss Kearney,” he grouches, rustling through a stack of paper next to his elbow. Finding a dog-eared sheet, the sheriff squints at it. “You left a message about setting up cameras in Hackett Woods, that right? Thought one of my deputies would’ve gotten back to you about that by now.”

“He did, yes.” Feeling like an intruder now that she realized her mistake, Laura perches on a bare wooden chair in front of Sheriff Hunnem’s desk. “That’s not why I’m here, sir.”

“Oh?” Folding the sheet of paper, he places it to the side and directs her a questioning look. “Well then, how may I help you, Miss Kearney?”

“It’s about the man who died. In the, uh, red truck?” Laura shifts uncomfortably under the sheriff’s weary gaze. “There was an article in the North Kill Gazette….”

“That’d be Andrew Mayfield,” he nods. “Nasty fella—over and done with, thankfully, but if you have something to report—”

“I believe—” Breath catches in Laura’s throat, and she has to curl her fingers into fists to mask the sudden tremor. “I believe he intended to attack me yesterday, on Route 919. But he didn’t because there was a, an officer on, I guess, on patrol?” She inhales sharply through her mouth. “I just— I wanted to….”

Leaning forward, Sheriff Hunnem presses a button on his desk phone. “Rosie, bring Miss Kearney some water, will ya? Got a bit of a situation here.”

A minute later the receptionist appears with a full plastic cup and too sympathetic look of someone aching for fresh gossip. Laura thanks her with barely any voice coming out. She drinks the offered water in small, controlled sips, wildly embarrassed at how over the top a reaction she had, considering that nothing happened to her. As far as she’s aware.

Once it’s just the two of them and Laura has calmed down, the sheriff speaks again. “Miss Kearney… I won’t press you for details right now. However, what I can tell you is that none of my guys came across that Mayfield bastard yesterday. So, either your guardian angel wears a uniform, or that officer of yours simply happened to pass through the county. 919 connects two major highways. We get a lot of strangers here,” he sighs, “good and bad.”

“Guess I met both,” Laura mutters, and Sheriff Hunnem chuckles dryly.

“Guess so.”

She goes to push her chair back but stops. “Sir, if somebody was passing through, they couldn’t be on foot, right?”

“...Excuse me?”

“I… don’t think I saw a police car,” Laura admits. She wasn’t sure of it until the words formed on her tongue, sour. Now that they’re out, she can see it clearly in her mind’s eye: no car where there should’ve been one.

Christ, she must be going through some sort of a mental break.

To his credit, although visibly alarmed, Sheriff Hunnem doesn’t outright call her a crazy woman. “Look, miss,” he says after clearing his throat, “it’s a tough thing to deal with, a close call like the one you had, but I recommend you don’t dwell on it.” He opens his palms in a pacifying gesture. “You are alive and well—at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.”

Recognizing the end of the conversation for what it is, Laura nods in agreement and stands up, feeling numbness spread through her following her earlier outburst. Get it together, jeez.

“Thank you for your time, sir.” She manages a tense smile, ready to flee, but before Laura can open the door to the main office area, the sheriff calls her name again.

“About that project of yours, with the cameras and all. Make sure you’re out of the woods by nightfall.” He looks her in the eye, and a shadow of an elm tree outside the room’s only window cuts through the space as the sun blinks from behind patchy clouds. “We’ve got way more predators who feel at home in the dark.”

#hackearney #my writing #rurrie if you're seeing this #those are magical elms

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queenofbaws · 10 months

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ah, and once more, it's wednesday my dudes!

a slightly different update from me this week - things have been slow in terms of words being put to paper lately, and this will probably be the case for a little while. i'm gonna be trying to get a chapter of something out in the near future (probably like wringing blood, but don't quote me on that), then ya gurl may or may not be taking a slightly more official break from the internet to deal with some stuff here at home ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

such is life. ANYWAY, for this reason, i'm offering a few snippets/sneak peeks of multiple projects this week, just to show y'all what's bubbling away on the backburner. if you're interested in seeing any of that, click the readmore! either way, hope you're all having wonderful weeks so far, and taking care of yourselves as best you can <3

like wringing blood from a stone

There were a million things he could say to that, maybe even a million and one. What he settled on, however, was probably the lesser of all those evils. “You kidnapped my counselors.” Travis’s whole face puckered at that, letting him know in no uncertain terms the lesser of those evils had still been pretty fucking evil, in fact. “What did you want me to do, Chris?! Huh? Huh?! You bit one of them! They both saw—” “Oh for Chrissake, quit fucking whispering, wouldya?” Obviously he’d been expecting something else—an actual fight, maybe—and so Chris took Travis’s surprised spluttering as an opportunity to dig his own heels in. “If you’re gonna bitch me out, at least do it with your big-kid voice.” A vein ticked furiously in Travis’s neck, making it look like something was itching to burst its way out of him. He narrowed his eyes to slits, then leaned in until the two of them were nearly nose to nose. He could smell the blood beginning to clot where Jack had split his eyebrow, the ointment he’d smeared over it before covering it with a bandage. “You and I both know,” he began again, still fucking whispering, “That anyone could be listening outside. I don’t—” Before he could finish that thought, Chris threw his arms up into the air, shouting at the very top of his own voice, “I DON’T CARE! I do not fucking care, Travis! I couldn’t care less if you paid me to! Know what?” He cupped his hands to his mouth then, tipping his head back as he did so, and, tapping even deeper into his (presumably very bruised) diaphragm, hollered, “I HOPE YOU’RE ALL LISTENING! I HOPE EVERYONE IN THE GODDAMN COUNTY CAN HEAR ME LOUD AND FUCKING CLEAR!” If Travis’s face went any redder, it probably would’ve started looking purple. It was Chris’s turn to narrow his eyes; instead of glowering like an asshole, though, he flashed him a grin, sarcastic and savage and sharp enough to nearly slice through his tongue. “Big-kid voices, Travvy. Why the hell not, right?”

of mummy men & bathtub soup

“My oh-so-charming brother is just running his oh-so-charming mouth,” Julia said sharply, calling the Smith brothers’ chit-chat to a screeching halt. “Here’s what I think actually happened: Conrad made up a story in his head, decided it was funny, and now he’s done so many mental gymnastics convincing himself it’s true that he believes it too.” Her head swiveled on her neck, only adding to her overall mean girl vibe. “That’s something Connie likes to do, you see, mix up details from stupid made-up bullshit and real life, then decide it’s all real.” Oh. Oh! If she thought he was gonna be easy pickings just because he’d brought a date along tonight, she had another thing coming! Hell, she hadn’t been paying attention to his whole deal! Jules was the one who got embarrassed by this shit when other people were watching—Conrad reveled in it. So he did the one thing he knew would get her goat (the only move a self-respecting sibling could take in a situation such as this): He brought up the bathtub. “If this is about human soup guy, you’re actually calling Dad a liar and not me, sooo…nice try, but my feelings remain totally unhurt.” Then, he waited for what he knew would come next. He held Julia’s gaze. He took a drink. It was Daniel, God bless him, who finally bit. “…human…soup…guy?”

the tale(s) of the champion

“All right. If you are so…determined to have me discuss Hawke, then fine. I will discuss Hawke.” He leaned forward over his desk, a gesture, she thought, meant less to evoke authority than to simply steady himself as he braced against the unpleasant tide of memory. His eyes found hers for only a moment, but that moment was all it took for her to understand perhaps ‘unpleasant’ was too delicate a word to describe a return to Kirkwall. ‘Agonizing,’ maybe. ‘Wretched.’ “Cassandra and I are of a mind on one thing, at the very least—Varric is a liar. However. I would be remiss if I didn’t draw your attention to the one thing, the only thing, I’ve heard him say about our shared time in Kirkwall that at least approaches the truth.” She couldn’t help but notice that Cullen spoke the city’s name in much the same way Hawke had spoken Elthina’s: as though it tasted bitter on his tongue. “Namely, if, for whatever reason, you wanted to find Hawke,” he continued, speaking with a terrible evenness that smacked of everything but calm, “All you had to do was follow the blood. “What blood? Whose blood? Some might argue that since Hawke killed so often, so indiscriminately, that it wouldn’t matter—couldn’t matter—which blood trail you picked. Oh, I’ve heard the jokes. I’ve heard them all. How it must’ve sometimes seemed Kirkwall was populated solely by nameless, faceless throngs of gangs and ruffians that she cut through at nightfall, slashing and hacking her way towards the betterment of the city. How Varric had to keep a running tally of all the vendettas held against her, lest she forget which seedy element might be coming after her next for putting an end to their leader. Hilarious. Truly.” Had Cullen not been wearing his gloves, the Inquisitor had the singular sense she’d be watching his knuckles turn white as bone; the way he’d taken to gripping the edges of his desk, she was a bit shocked that nothing had given way. Yet.

A MYSTERY CREEPS PROJECT OOOOOOOOOOH!!!

"Which is why, boys and ghouls, we’re gonna be packing our bags and taking a roadtrip this weekend.” Which was…also what Ashley was afraid he was going to say. Her shoulders slumped, and she felt Chris turn to her as he noticed, but Josh kept going, as he was wont to do. “Turns out ‘ghost shit’ was a gross understatement. You lovely ladies aren’t going to believe what a little snooping dug up about this place…” “It’s pretty messed up,” Chris nodded. “But pretty messed up in a way that I gotta admit sounds like it’s gonna make a juicy episode or two.” “Or five. So c’mon, hop to. We got a business dinner to catch—on me, obvs—and details to hammer out. You’re not ready for the shit that went down over there. Hope you’re ready to start trending in the true-crime feeds though, because I know I am!” Dropping the book back on the table, Josh hopped to his feet and playfully tweaked Sam’s ear before starting back for the microfiche where he’d left all his stuff. “Hey Edgar,” he said as he passed him by, “level with me here. Have you been a ghost this whole time? Is that why you know all this crap? When we get in the elevator and leave this floor, do you just poof off into the ether and cease existing until we come back?” In a voice so flat, so disaffected, so wistful, that Ashley very nearly forgot about the pang of fear that had seized her at the sight of those five Death cards staring her straight in the face, Edgar sighed, “Don’t I wish.”

#queenie rambles #queenie writes supermassive #queenie writes dragon age

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qyllenhaal · 3 years

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American Pie

Lee Bodecker x Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: The Summer heat gets to everyone, including Sheriff Lee Bodecker who is looking to stir up with his favorite girl.

Warnings: 18+ only!!! DubCon (!!!), Dark themes, age gap (reader is early 20s), infidelity, alcohol abuse, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, spanking.

A/N: I didn’t expect to finish this in one night, but I did! I may have missed a few things to include in the warnings but I believe I got all the major ones. Enjoy!

Hot weather makes people feel more rowdy, like they can do anything just because the temperature is rising and the sun is out for longer. When the number of troublemakers at the bar goes up, so does the number of visits from the police.

Someone was always anonymously calling the police because someone at Tecumseh Lounge was stirring up some shit. They rarely came and when they did they did nothing. The deputy they dispatched would just write down a few things in a notepad and leave. No one ever truly got in trouble and that's because the Sheriff is rumored to be "in'' with the owner.

The rumors are true but the nice ladies and gentlemen from the nicer parts of the county will never see it for themselves. Tecumseh is rough, and nasty. There were more vices here than just alcohol, and most of it was done under the table.

Y/n was crazy to take this job as a bartender at Tecumseh. She didn't know that a hidden prospective for the job was fucking the patrons. One of the other girls working here did it, and so did Sandy despite her brother being the sheriff. Y/n was not interested in the advances pressed on her by the men. They were either married or been fucking "ladies of the night" for years and probably have something. No one who frequented a place like Tecumseh wasn't someone Y/n wanted to go home with. Yet she let Sandy's brother talk to her in any kind of way.

For someone who was the sheriff, Lee Bodecker was here a lot and it wasn't because the drinks were good. Sometimes his sister served him while he interrogated her about her husband Carl. Y/n had seen Carl a few times and she found him to be sleazy. Poor Sandy was stuck working behind the bar while Carl flirted with a younger girl just a few feet away from her. But Sandy would also take some patrons out to the back and get fucked when her shift ended. It seems like an even deal, but the difference is Carl looks happy doing it and Sandy always comes back looking a mess, and not in a good way.

Y/n has been applying for a waitressing job closer to her house. She wants out of this place yet whenever she says Tecumseh is her current place of work, her application gets thrown out. Her aunt got her the job and she wished to god that woman never did. She should've gone and worked at someone's farm doing hard labor instead of accepting the offer to work. She was talked to like she was a whore and there was nothing to do about it because her boss did the same thing.

Friday night shifts are the hardest for her. The men drink harder because they don't work weekends. The influence of alcohol made them relentless when talking to Y/n. They made what they believed were compliments about her body and proclaimed how they wanted to fuck her. She just had to press a smile because the more they found her fuckable the more they tipped her. The low-cut top she wore was not coincidental. While she didn't fuck patrons for 20 dollars, she did put out for their attention.

Not even 30 minutes before her shift and a fight breaks out. She has to call the police because the fight between two men turned into a fight of three, four, and then five. No one looked interested in breaking up the fight, just watching with glib smiles and jovial laughs. This was the kind of entertainment they came for, but it was a pain to deal with as a barmaid.

Police sirens and the lights made some patrons, including two of the people involved in the fight, went running out through another exit. Their fears were pointless since it was rare for anyone to get arrested here.

"Alright break it up," Deputy Brooks' voice boomed.

Whenever an officer was called to come down to Tecumseh Lounge, it was only three policemen who showed up: Deputy Brooks, Deputy McConnell, and the sheriff. They must've worked out some kind of deal with her boss because they come in, don't do shit about the reason they were called for, and they never failed to ask for a drink before leaving. Tonight is no different; they just break up the fight and tell the men to leave but they never force perpetrators to leave.

The fight dissipated a few minutes after the deputies showed up and the patrons grumbled because the fun was over. The two deputies looked around the place to give off the appearance of holding authority then they made their way over to the bar.

"One of your coldest beers," Deputy Brooks didn't greet Y/n nor was he polite. He just demanded what he wanted.

"No free drinks." She tries to keep her tone of voice strong. She is not afraid of these two men who only feel powerful because they have a badge on them. Deputy McConnell was only a few years older than her and she remembers when he was a scrawny kid who got picked on even as a senior in high school.

"We just broke up a fight at your fine establishment. The least you can do is give us a beer," Brooks rebuttal.

There was no arguing so Y/n sighed and went to grab two beers for the men so they could just get out of her sight.

"I need two beers. Not just one," McConnell interjected. Y/n didn't like how they drank on the job, especially since they were going to be driving so late at night.

But Y/n obliges just to get them out of her face. She hates the smug look on Deputy Brooks face as he grabs his beer and walks out with the other deputy behind him.

The rest of the night is Jenny's problem because Y/n was clocking out immediately. She smelled like cigarettes and just wanted to wash the layer of sweat off of her body. All the money her boss accrues from shady dealings, he was too cheap to install an air conditioner. People get angry and agitated when it's so hot out. Even at night the air feels sticky and falls just to the low 80s.

She headed out the back to avoid the incoming patrons. She is fair game to some people now that she is single.

Out back she can hear three unmistakable voices. Deputy Brooks and McConnell were standing by their car that was parked right next to the nice, clean sheriff's car. Y/n is not in the mood to deal with the two dickheads and their boss sheriff dickhead, but she knows they are going to say something to her as she walks back.

"Well if it isn't my pretty, pretty Cherry."

Lee Bodecker's voice punctuated the night air, making even the humid atmosphere feel cold.

Y/n stops in her tracks, knowing that she cannot avoid this without causing trouble for herself.

"Don't call me that."

"You sure like the name last week when I had my head between those thighs. 'Lee...oh Lee!" He imitated her voice which made his deputies laugh. Lee has a beer in his hand, reminding Y/n that McConnell asked for two back at the bar. She should've known it was for Lee.

She was embarrassed by him talking about their time together in front of his subordinates. Lee is married and Y/n is turned off by men with gold bands on their ring finger who try to take her home after her shift ends. However they have fucked on multiple occasions, making him the only patron she has given into. He was mean, but authoritative. Y/n couldn't help herself and she sometimes let the sheriff rough her up in the back of his car.

"I'm only messing with you sweetheart. You don't gotta stand there lookin like you saw a ghost."

Y/n feels humiliated but Lee doesn't seem to care. Lee gets off on seeing her squirm, on seeing her be degraded. She's not a whore like the other woman who works here and his sister, but he fucks her like she is. He has something many of the men inside the dingy joint wanted. Y/n isn't easy, which rare for a female Tecumseh worker.

"I'm just wonderin if you seen my Sandy," he made an attempt to change the subject.

"She's your sister Lee."

The truth is Y/n hasn't seen Sandy in a week. She said something about her and Carl taking a trip but she didn't say for how long. Y/n is not too fond of Sandy to pry into her life. She feels bad for her though. She always comes into work with dingy hair and not to mention the amount of weight she has lost which makes her face look gaunt.

"You better address me as ‘sheriff’ girl. You have no manners. You weren't even going to say hello to the men who keep you safe."

Lee did nothing to make her feel safe. He made Y/n feel on edge when he was around but downright euphoric when she was in the throes of passing in the back of his car. He was just using her to get his rocks off and he only went after her because he wanted someone "fresh" for him. He doesn't respect her or care for her.

"Shouldn't you three be patrolling? Looking for crime?"

"Don't catch an attitude, Y/n. It's none of your business what we do. Besides, all the crime is in that building you just came out of."

"You guys never do shit. All you do sheriff is come and collect money from Leroy-"

"Watch your fucking mouth."

Y/n is not sure why she's still here trying to bump heads with him. She will never win, especially when he is the authority around here. No one challenged Lee because they were scared to death of him. He's a shady sheriff but he's feared.

"I'm leaving," Y/n sighed. She tried to walk away but Lee stood up from leaning on his car and grabbed her arm

"Uh-uh," he shook his head at her as the grip on her arm tightened. She looked up at him with fear in her arms and he felt his cock getting hard "You don't get to leave until I tell you too. I think you owe me for last week anyway, cherry."

"Please...just let me go," she tried to plead. She tried to plea to the man who she's been fucking, hoping that his attachment to her would make him be kinder to her.

"You need your ass to be put in place. I thought I did that a few weeks ago when I spanked your ass until you cried, but you're still as defiant as ever. You'll never fucking learn."

Lee dragged her back to his car and bent her over the hood. He placed her arms behind her back and cuffed her. He wasn't going to arrest her but making her believe he was sure was fun to him.

She can see both of the deputies watching her. Her face was planted against the top of his car as he held her down. Lee pulls her dress over her ass and she feels so exposed.

"Those panties look damp to me. What do y'all think?"

Y/n hears the deputies chattering lowly amongst themselves, probably afraid to say something obscene about the woman the sheriff is hooking up with.

"How many men seen you like this before? Who you let fuck you today?"

"No one sheriff."

"That's right. That pussy is mine."

His rough hand caresses her ass. He wants to spank her for talking back to him in front of the two younger officers. She was trying to embarrass him which called for a punishment.

"You better count 'em or I'll start over."

Y/n just groaned in anticipation of the first blow to her ass. She hates how Lee takes his time and she wishes he would just get it over with. Her heart is racing as Lee gets a firm grip on her hair.

"Bad little girls get their asses spanked. Don't think just because you're not peddling your cunt that you're not a whore," he threatened with anger.

Her panties were ripped off with rage and she was truly exposed. The warm, summer breeze ghosted across her cunt but it made her shiver. She can already feel the heaviness of her hand on her ass before it even comes down. The first smack was so loud that it pierced the dark night's air. Her cry was even louder.

"One," she says breathlessly. Her eyes close so she doesn't have to look at the two men staring at her with wide eyes and tents in their pants.

Lee believes pain is the best discipline for a girl like Y/n. He would never do this to his wife, but he also doesn't fuck his wife like he fucks Y/n. She was a tough thing to crack but she rides him into the night until his car is shaking and he's cumming into a condom.

"You can count louder than that, cherry."

He was mocking her only because they had an audience. The belittling and having her body exposed was humiliating. But that first slap of her ass sent all the blood in her body rushing to pussy.

Lee smacked her ass again and again and each time she pathetically sobbed out the number of hits her ass has received so far. Her skin felt hot and it wasn't because of the temperature. She wanted to cry so bad but she kept it. She has never cried in front of Lee and she isn't going to start now; no matter how painful his brutality is.

"Look how fucking wet she is from getting her ass whooped."

Y/n heard the shuffling of the deputies and there was not doubt they were looking at her glistening sex. She felt like she was dripping and she wanted to press her thighs together so bad to hide herself. That would only make things worse for her and the last thing she needs is a harsher punishment.

"Learned your lesson, cherry?"

She nods, her eyes still closed.

"Good girl."

The sound of Lee's belt coming undone makes her stick her ass higher into the air. She's been trained like a dog who wants a treat to behave this way. A sense of shame consumes her as she acts so shamelessly.

"My good little bitch," he coos. He pulls himself out and lines up the head with her wet slit. "I don't have a condom on me sweetheart. I finally get to feel that pussy of yours."

He was lying. He always kept a pack of condoms in the glove compartment of his patrol car because he couldn't bring them into his home. Plus having them in there would always leave him ready to fuck Y/n. He did not like the feeling of condoms but he can't knock her up when next year is an election year. Having a bastard child with a barmaid from Tecumseh would fuck everything up and send his efforts down the drain.

"Lee no! You have to use a condom."

"I don't have to do anything."

She's stupid to think he would listen to her. She is completely powerless and can only operate to his whims.

"Then please pull out...please," she whispers in defeat. The laugh he lets out tells her that she doesn't get a say in this at all.

Lee pushes on her back with one hand and the other is holding onto her hip. He finally sinks into her and he is in paradise.

"You expect me to pull out when your cunt is this warm and tight? No fucking chance darlin'"

He starts to fuck into her, each thrust earning him a pathetic moan. She feels so good wrapped around him and he vows to never wear condoms with her again. She's the tightest thing he's had in years and he has to go slowly to brace himself or else he is gonna cum. This position gave him so much access to her cunt and he pushed in as deep as he could. His bare head was kissing her cervix over and over again. His thighs slapped against her bare ass and the noise reverberated into the night.

The deputies just stood there; eyes wide with shock but lust filling their veins. They never took Lee as a cheater yet he fucked Y/n he knew her body so well.

Tears slip down her face, but they aren't from sadness or anger. She's overwhelmed by the pleasure Lee is giving her that she can almost forget that they have an audience.

Lee lifted her head off of the hood of the car. She could see them in the reflection. She looked a mess while Lee looked like he was in heaven in her bare cunt.

"You wanna tell them how you never had a man in your ass until I fucked you? Begged for it like a whore?"

His voice has some much grit in it and Y/n wondered where this new fire in him came from. Lee was rough with her but never has he pounded into her like she was just a toy. Most would be surprised to know that Lee can be a gentle lover that had a primal urge to be inside of Y/n. She wondered if he was like that with his wife, but according to him she was just a "wet blanket." Y/n does not know whether or not to believe him because it's not uncommon for men to disparage their wives to women they're having sex with on the side.

"Gonna cum Lee," she cried.

He felt her tighten around him and he was about to cum too. He was going to cum inside of her.

"Show 'em how you cum for me. Let 'em see that pretty face of yours."

Lee pounded into her until she was crying out. Her orgasm wrecked her body and the only thing on her mind was Lee and his cock. If she was asked to speak right now it would just be babble. He fucked her stupid and he's not going to stop until he spills inside of her.

A few more hard, rough thrusts and Y/n feels Lee spill inside of her. She sighs at the blissful sensation. His grip on her loosens, a symptom of the exhaustion that starts to set in. His cock begins to soften inside of her but the two of them are still panting from what they just did.

"Go on. Go home," he slaps her ass one last time just to tease her. His eyes are trained on the sight of his cum oozing out of her and he never wants to look at anything else. But he has a shift to get back to

Y/n reluctantly stands up, her dress falling over her ass to cover her up. She can feel his cum running down her thigh but she's too embarrassed to clean herself up in front of these mean. She accidentally catches Deputy McConnell's eyes before she scurries off to her car. She hears a laugh and then a few more joining in. She's sure Lee is bragging to them about her always being willing to fuck him. She just hopes he doesn't tell them everything they have done together.

Lee had been silent for more than a week now. No calls, no visits to the bar, and even his patrol car hadn't ridden down her street. Y/n felt insecure about his absence; like he thought she was an easy slut like the rest of the barmaids. He knows she isn't willing to fuck anybody, but she was not sure if he believed her when she said it.

The days moved so slowly as she watched the door hoping he would come in one late night. She even hoped for a fight but suddenly no one had the energy anymore for a melee.

Y/n was working a late shift tonight. She'd cover the bar from 12 until last call. It was her day off but she had to fill in for some girl at the last minute. If it had been the weekend she would've said no, but it's a Tuesday night which means it would be an easy night of minimal work.

Y/n was wiping down glasses not five minutes after she clocked in and she heard the shrill voice of her co-worker Sydney.

"I'm not dealing with him. Last time I tried to cut him off he threatened to arrest me! I don't know where Sandy is but she needs to be the one here to deal with her brother."

Y/n's ears perked up. She didn't notice Lee in the room when she walked in. The room was dim and it was not always easy to make out customers, especially if they were far away.

"What's going on?"

Y/n walked over to where Cindy's voice was coming from and she was talking to their boss Leroy.

"Sheriff is drunk off his ass and I'm supposed to deal with him. My shift ended five minutes ago and once I'm off the clock then anything that happens in this place is none of my concern!" She said with contempt.

"You work for me. You don't get to decide what you will and will not do at my bar!"

As much as Y/n wanted to avoid a tiff between her co-worker and boss, she wanted to talk to Lee even more.

"I'll take care of it."

Leroy didn't care either way. As long as he didn't have to deal with Lee who was pissed off at him about something. Lee often complained that her boss was a "useless fucker." Leroy walked away from the two and Cindy gave Y/n a small smile.

"Thank you."

"It's no problem. I'll see you tomorrow Cindy," Y/n called to the blonde who was already peeling out of the place. She doesn't think Cindy likes her all that much but she was at least courteous to Y/n.

The bar was dead enough for Y/n's other co-worker to cover while she went to deal with Lee.

He was at a table in one of the corners of the bar; slumped over in his chair and too intoxicated to speak in complete sentences. There was no way he could properly function or drive home. She had a choice to make whether to leave Lee like this or take him home. She had just gotten to work, but the night was nothing that her co-worker couldn't handle. If Leroy threw a fit and tried to fire her she could just get Lee to threaten him.

He was so heavy as he leaned on her to walk to her car. Y/n loathes this man yet she does so many caring things for him that it makes her stomach hurt. She gets nothing out of this exchange yet she continues to go back with him.

She placed him in the passenger seat of her car and he just mumbled to himself the entire ride to her apartment. She was thankful to be on the first floor because it would be a hazard to try to get Lee to walk up some stairs like this. She helped him sit on her raggedy couch. He looked like he was going to vomit.

"How many drinks did you have?" She began her interrogation on him, but she doubts she will get a coherent answer tonight.

"Just one."

As he spoke he reached into his pocket to show her the "one" bottle that he drank from tonight. A few candy wrappers fell out of his pocket when he pulled the bottle out. They were jolly ranchers wrappers which was the kind she bought to share with him.

"What happened? Why did you get so fucked up? I need to get you home Lee."

Y/n was in panic mode. There was no way she could take Lee home but she didn't know how to deal with him like this. He had been tipsy around her before, sure, but she has never seen him this drunk.

"No, no...don't wanna go back. Just let me sleep it off," he slurred. He haphazardly kicked his shoes off and pulled his jacket off so he could get comfortable on her couch. He's going to wake up with a sore back if he sleeps on that thing.

"You can't get drunk like this ever again. And you also can't stay the night here ever again. Your wife is going to find out one day

He just groaned and turned away from her on the couch. She just sighed in defeat. She will deal with him in the morning.

She feels the bed around 3 am. She could not sleep after leaving Lee in a state like that on her couch and she has been up ever since. Y/n was so tired but her body was not agreeing with sleep at the moment. Heavy arms wrapped around her as she held her breath.

"You smell so good, Florence. Just like roses."

"Lee, it's me." She waited for him to respond, afraid that he would get upset or angry with her for no good reason. Her ego was a little hurt after he mistook her for his wife.

"I'm just jokin' with you cherry." Even though he was suffering from a hangover, he still has the capacity to tease her.

Y/n turned around to face him but he had his eyes closed and a pleased smile on his face. She can't deny how handsome he looks, especially with his full cheeks.

"Why did you get that drunk last night?"

"I'm a grown man."

"You weren't acting like it last night. You were like a defiant child," her voice began to rise in volume and Lee winced.

"Don't yell, please. You can be mad at me all you want but please don't yell. I've got a headache that's going to last for days."

"It's what you deserve."

Lee finally opened his eyes just so he could see that pouty look on her face. Y/n called him a defiant child, but she was one to talk. She was always acting like a brat around him.

"You don't mean that girl. If you did, you would've left me at Tecumseh. You care about me."

"Lee-"

"Just admit it. You care."

"Lee, you are married."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

This was the uncomfortable conversation Y/n wanted to have. It was always shot down by Lee. He had no problem fucking her, but talking about where they stand or his cheating was always a problem.

"Cherry, I wish you'd just let things be as they are. Wish you would always be a good girl like you are in the back of my cruiser."

"I don't want to be your mistress Lee. If we keep doing this then we're going to get caught and your wife will leave you. Then what?"

"I'll move you in and put a ringer on your finger. Maybe give you a few kids too," he chuckled.

Y/n couldn't bring herself to find joy in his comments. She has some underlying feelings for him and he's right, she does care. But her conscience can't stop thinking about the fact that he has a wife. The only time she forgets is when his dick is inside of her.

"I'm a whore, remember?"

"Just because I fucked you like one in front of my deputies doesn't mean you are one," his hand rested on her hot cheek and he stroked it with his thumb, "you're my cherry girl. The only person I love being inside of. You act like you hate me but you're always wet for me; I bet you're wet right now. I love what we have and I don't want it to end."

She has no more to say to him. She just sighs and closes her eyes. Lee can practically see the wheels turning in her head. While he saw this as a very simple situation, she viewed it as more complex and always seemed to look for ways to make it complicated for the two to just enjoy it for what it is. Y/n is young and Lee is sure she is not ready to settle down yet. They're just having some fun. And if they do in fact get caught and his wife leaves him, then his cherry would make one hell of a wife.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x ofc #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #Sebastian Stan #lee bodecker fic #The Devil All The Time #Dark Fic

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frenziedslashers · 2 years

Note

ok omg I had a silly Lester thought earlier and immediately thoughg if you but since I was in the bath I couldn't send an ask or anything and then forgot-

a scenario:

you're in the truck with Lester, just casually talking, maybe he makes jokes like that "business has been kinda dead lately" one

and, being a master of puns and bad jokes, you bring out these

What do you call a deer with no eyes?

a no-eye deer

and

What do you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?

still no-eye deer

how would he react

i just wanna make him smile and laugh and feel appreciated, lemme love him 🥺🥺🥺

kfjhgskjdfgh I love this so much since my friends all hate me for my puns LMAO so I am writing a drabble for this 💅💅

Lesters Future S/O telling him cheesy jokes:

When he first saw you he knew you would be a lot of fun. Your kind eyes and wide smile. It made him like you all the more when you greeted him with such sincerity. "Ya need some help there?" Lester asked, and you nodded, ignoring your friends side eyes and grimaces. "Yes please, our car broke down and we can't seem to find the problem!" You told him, and he nodded. "Mind if y'pop the hood?" And you nodded, letting him look it over. Once the situation was stated, he happily offered to drive you to the closest town to a mechanic named Bo.

"This is too kind of you, really." You told him, climbing into the truck. Squeezing into the middle seat, a friend on the otherside of you. "Oh, it ain't no big deal, was just passin' through for work." He told you with a grin. Your friend scoffed, looking around the cab. "What type of work is that, picking up dead animals?" You elbowed them with a glare. "Well, yeah, actually. That obvious?" He asked with a chuckle, and the both of you looked at him with a curious gaze. "I clean up the roads for the county. An honest livin' I guess you'd say." You smiled, "Ain't it stink?" You questioned, watching him shrug. Only glancing at you a bit as he drove. "Yeah, but I get used to it. Plus lately, it's been pretty dead."

Your friend didn't quite catch onto the joke. Lesters palms going sweaty with a small smile. Hoping you would enjoy the humor just as much as he. Which you did, a small laugh escaping your lips, which turned into a bit of a larger one. "Oh, ain't that funny?" You asked your friend who just blankly stared at the two of you. "Well, 'cause they're dead... So works been dead?" You explained it to your friend, and they only rolled their eyes. "Y'ain't no fun." You muttered.

"Ya got any jokes o'yer own, pretty thing?" He asked you. Smiling when he noticed the embarrassed look on your face from the nickname. "Oh well, yes, sorta, they're kind of lame compared to yours." Lester nudged you with his elbow. "Oh, come on, tell 'em!" He insisted to which you smiled. "Well, what do ya call a deer with no eyes?" You asked. Lester pondered for a moment, then shrugged. "What?" "A, no-eye-deer." You answered, smiling at the snicker that left his lips. "That's a cute one, I might have to steal it." You chuckled and shrugged. "Go on ahead. I got another one." "Spill it," "What do you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?" He pondered a bit, then answered with a shrug. "Still, no-eye-deer." He laughed again, the both of you giggling at the jokes. Ignoring the friend in the truck who was obviously unamused by this whole ordeal.

"Oh I got another one!' Lester chirped, and you smiled, nudging him a bit to go on. "What's black'n'white n'red all over?" He asked with a grin. Wetting his lips while he waited an answer. "A newspaper?" You asked, and he shook his head with a chuckle. "Nope, a skunk wit' a rash." He laughed, to which you laughed with him. "Alright, can you two love-birds stop. How far are we from the town?" Lester sobered up at your friends words, clearing his throat with a sigh. "Just a couple miles here. We're almost there." He told the both of you. Reminding himself almost, too. That here in a couple miles he'd potentially lose you forever. Sure that if Bo and Vincent did spare you, you'd still hate him after finding out what happened to your friends. Unless they could come up with a damn good story.

#lester sinclair #house of wax #slasher x reader #lester sinclair x reader #lester x reader

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ange1s · 3 years

Text

cherry emoji - mark lee

synopsis: in which mark asks to see your boobs, and the idea you had of your relationship is thrown up in the air.

wc: 3.6k

genre: this is so fluffy it hurts, some angst but nothing crazy

tw: suggestive themes (boobs), swearing

playlist: pluto projector by rex orange county, ivy by frank ocean, tapestry by bruno major

a/n: guess whos back ,, back again ,,, ange1s back ,,, tell a friend,,,, also this is unedited so i'm sorry if theres a mistake :')

my anon asks are open !! feel free to ask me anything or request something <3

“i have a weird question.” mark says timidly. you’re sat on the floor, your back against his bed playing a rhythm game on your phone. he is sat at his desk, parallel to his bed, but with the rolling chair swivelled around to face you straight ahead. you don’t look up.

“hmm.” you hum, focused on the game.

mark swallows. “can i see your boobs?”

you drop your phone into your lap, forgetting about the game. you look up at him, straight into his eyes, and you giggle.

“wait, what?”

mark avoids your eyes almost fearfully, as if you were a detective questioning him for a crime. “can i see your boobs?” softer, this time.

you let out a shallow laugh. “don’t you watch porn? there are boobs there.”

mark blushes. “no! i mean, yes i do, but not real boobs.”

you cross your arms under your boobs on purpose, just to push them up a little higher to drive him nuts. mark sits back in his chair in frustration.

“so you think women aren’t real? that all boobs in porn are fake? jeez mark i thought you cared about women-“

“no! that’s not what i meant!” he says, exasperated. he continues to avoid eye contact with you. “of course i don’t think-“

you laugh again, keeling over. “relax mark, i know you don’t think all women are plastic.”

“look, there’s nothing wrong with being plastic, women can do whatever they-“ mark speaks quickly and nervously as if he were on trial.

“shut up minhyung,” you cut him off with a softer, more serious tone. “why do you want to see my boobs? you’re famous and cute. you could instantly find boobs wherever you go.”

he chuckles. “the word boob is so funny.”

“not the point, minhyung!”

he leans back over, the embarrassment slowly washing away. “stop calling me minhyung!”

“never, minhyung!” you retort without even thinking. you stand up to sit on his bed, now at eye level with him. “now, explain.”

“i… i dunno. i’ve just never seen boobs before. like, in person.”

you look directly at him, brain not even thinking anymore. words just fly out of your mouth with ease. “were you breastfed?”

“y/n!” he exclaims out of frustration. the embarrassment fizzles back in. he throws his head to the back of his chair and covers his eyes with his palm dramatically. he runs his hand down his face, tugging on the soft skin as it travels down. as his hand makes it back down to his lap, you giggle a little louder. “my mom’s boobs don’t fucking count. god, you made me think of my mom’s boobs. what the fuck?”

“sorry,” you manage in between giggles. “sorry, this is so funny.”

“this is impossible. i knew i shouldn’t have asked you.” mark pulls himself out of the chair and heads for the door, but you’re just as fast as him.

“now wait…” you grab his wrist to keep him from leaving. a wave of guilt washes over you. “i was just kidding.”

“were you? you didn’t sound like you were.” he says, his face still turned away from yours.

he sounds strangely hurt. “mark, are you okay?”

mark turns to face you and he looks defeated. he slumps down on the floor next to you, his knees up near his chest and his head in his hands.

“mark…”

“they were making fun of me.”

“who?”

“my friends! they were making fun of me. god, i sound like such an idiot now, whining about my friends like this, oh my god. i sound like a child.”

you rest your elbow on his shoulder giving your hand access to run through his soft, black hair. “you don’t sound like a child. you’re allowed to get upset.”

you take note at how the air shifted in the room. how quickly you focused and listened. you’re only like this around mark. with him, conversations can shift in an instant to anything. you understand each other on a deep, personal level. it’s something you don’t think you’ll ever have with another person for your entire life. maybe your soulmate. honestly? you can only dream to have this sort of connection with your soulmate, a connection so alive and so full of trust. is it even possible to have this with someone else? the fact that mark can make you think about how much he trusts you during a conversation about boobs is something only mark can make you feel. no one else. just him.

has it always been just him?

“it’s so stupid though. one minute lucas is bugging me about the fact that i’m a virgin and i’ve never seen boobs before and the next minute i’m on the floor of my bedroom with you, still not having seen any boobs mind you, nearly crying. damn. this is the lowest point i will ever reach.”

you push his hands away from his face and place your hands on his cheeks instead. “mark, please don’t cry. i hate it when you cry.”

the last time you saw mark cry was a month ago after watching a disney movie. seeing him cry just makes you cry, and since you were already crying, you just cried harder. seeing you cry makes him cry too, so he cried harder as well. the two of you just cried together until your heads hurt, to which you both took tylenols and tried to dance it off.

“i’m pathetic. insecure and pathetic.”

this is when you realize that there is more depth to his feelings than you thought.

“look, mark, i’ll show you my boobs. i trust you. i’m honestly surprised you haven’t seen them accidentally yet since i’ve known you for so long.” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. didn‘t work. “but i get the feeling that there’s more to this then just boobs.”

mark never really vented to you like this before. despite how close you are, he still kept things from you growing up, as a teenage boy does. you never took offense to this, as you kept plenty from him too. he never quite talked about his insecurities, his fears. he didn’t want to burden you with them. mark, so sweet and thoughtful. maybe too much for his own good. he needs to learn to share things.

he's starting to, though.

it takes him a while to speak, avoiding your eyes entirely. he speaks lowly, as if he was scared to tell the world what he was about to say.

“it’s just… everything about this sucks. everything. i’m kinda scared to tell you things, which can make us drift apart because we lose trust. then again, if i do tell you things, i’m scared it’ll freak you out and i’ll lose you. those are both bad endings. then, i’m scared to put myself out into the world. like, lucas is telling me to just find someone. go out, ask for a number, have a good time, live like someone in their 20s should be living. i can’t really do it though. every time i try, i choke. lucas once tried to set me up, you remember that, right?”

“yeah, that was the girl who stood you up.”

“yeah. it’s awful. every time i try it fails. i’ve been trying to get to the bottom of why it fails every single time but i just couldn’t. but then, i realized.” he shifts and faces you causing your hands to fall off his face and into your lap. “when i came home after being stood up, i wasn’t sad. i forgot the moment i left the restaurant. i texted lucas that the date didn’t happen and just shut my phone off and went to your place. i wasn’t sad because i knew i had you. i knew that you were going to make me feel better and that made it all go away.” he pauses. “you know? sometimes i get worried that i put too much on you. you’re my happiness, my relaxation, my joy. i worry sometimes that you’ll suffocate because i take so much from being with you. i keep this in the back of my head all the time because i just don’t want you to go. ever.”

holy shit.

“mark…”

“let me finish. i talked about this with lucas, and he told me that i can let myself be selfish sometimes. he said that i can want this that… that i can want you. i can think about you and how you make me happy and i can want that happiness yesterday, today, and tomorrow, and the day after. shit, i care about you more than anything. my heart swells and my stomach gets all these annoying little butterflies when i think of you. it’s fucking crazy. and now, today, here i am. you know, lucas, jaemin and i were talking about girls and boobs and fuck i don’t know, jaemin said that i just had to get that intimacy with someone. and it just fucking clicked. the only person i want to be intimate with is you and i’m thinking now that maybe i was stupid for asking to see your boobs. which is so stupid, i could’ve just asked to kiss you or share a bed with you or i don’t know. i’m really sorry if that was gross of me. i just wasn’t thinking. it’s so damn hard to think straight when it comes to you. i just really want to be closer to you, however that might be.”

your heart races at a speed that doctors would deem impossible. you don’t know what to think or where to look. you feel like you’re going to explode. though, if you explode, he’ll probably explode too. that wouldn’t be good.

mark looks down. he fills with regret. he doesn’t think he should've said that. maybe you'll hate him now. maybe you’ve never felt this way about him before.

you inhale slowly, trying to convince your lungs that breathing is normal and not something that can just stop when hearing speeches like this.

what is the proper thing to say? mark i love you? but do you love him? everything is so confusing right now. of course you love him, but you never considered love in this way. can i kiss you? too forward? but he wants intimacy, and you want it too. i feel the same way? boring. you can do better. mark, and his way with words. so beautiful. how do you compete? mark, you’re beautiful. mark is so beautiful. you try so hard to compose the words. maybe too hard. maybe it’s okay to go with option 3.

now, they just flow out. “mark… i think i feel the same way you do. i don’t know it’s just- i’ve always felt some sort of way toward you. something is so special about you. i spent years trying to decipher it, thinking it was just something platonic or brotherly or i dunno. i just never considered… this. i don’t even know what to call this. but it feels right. you’ve always felt right.”

he has. and he always will. he looks at you so lovingly, his enamoured gaze stuck on you. you can’t look up at him, but he watches you.

you continue. “fuck, i don’t know what to say. i’m so… god.” you run your fingers through your hair, as if to comb your brain in search for the right words. “i think you’re so beautiful. everything about you. and i’m so fucking grateful to have someone as amazing as you in my life. i don’t know what i did to deserve someone like you, and i feel like i really don’t deserve you. but it feels right. to be with you. to be alone with you. it’s just right.”

you let a little tear trickle down your cheek. you know if you look up at him, you’ll probably cry harder. you know this well, yet you look up.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you either.” mark sighs. it’s his turn to wipe your tears now.

“so… what is this? what… are we?” you ask, melting into his hand, which somehow feels softer on your face.

“i don’t know. we can be whatever you want us to be.”

you playfully punch his shoulder, his hands sliding off your cheeks. “come on, you know i hate it when you say that.”

he gets defensive. “and you know i hate it when you hit me! you have a strong hand, yanno? shit!”

you laugh at him, clearing the last unwanted tear off your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “what can i say? gained strength from all those pillow fights over the years.”

“yeah, pillow fights i won.”

“shut up! you know i won the one at jeno’s party!”

mark laughs aloud. your favourite sound. “yeah, because everyone was drunk and you were still on your second drink. it was a very unevenly matched fight!”

“i still won!” you cross your arms and sit up straight as if you assert dominance over the conversation. who are you kidding? it’s all a joke anyways.

you crack after a moment and both of you erupt in a fit of giggles. his head falls into the crook of your neck, and it feels right. it’s almost as if your skin buzzed. you don’t know why, he’s done this many times before. but now, it’s different. the air has shifted again, so quickly. only with mark.

when he comes off of your neck, you stand up. you walk up to the door of his room, and lock it.

“y/n, what-“

you sit on his bed. “can’t have someone walk in while you’re ogling at my boobs, right? i know you and you’d never be able to live that down.”

mark is quick to stand up in defence. “what? no, we don’t have to do that anymore. i said my piece and im over the boob thing and-“

“shut up mark. you know you want to. and i kinda wanna show you too.”

he sits down on the bed across from you without another word but before either of you can move, he speaks again. “wait, kinda? please don’t feel obligated. only do this if you’re-“

“minhyung, please! i want to, ok? i really appreciate how you’re taking care of me but it’s fine. i trust you, and you trust me, right?”

he swallows hard. “right.”

“okay, perfect.” you pull your shirt off over your head, leaving you in your bra. if this was with any other boy, you’d be self conscious about literally everything: the bra you chose, the shape of your body, the hair in the places you let grow out. with mark, none of it matters now. he’s seen you in bathing suits before, this isn’t much different. and knowing how much he cares for you anyways, you know his head is clouded with praise and nothing less. his brain is working so fast right now, he probably won’t even register any imperfections.

“can i take your bra off?” mark sputters out as if he were holding onto the words for hours. “or wait, fuck-“

“yes, you can.”

he is almost shocked at your answer, and it shows. mark’s hands move slowly, his skin slightly cold as he grazes your skin. he leans in unbelievably close to wrap his arms around you to reach your back. he feels your breath on his chin, and your beautiful eyes look so sweet as you look up at him. when he finds the clasp, he kisses your nose as he pulls away, your bra coming back with him. you straighten your arms so the straps fall right off, showing your boobs.

mark is shocked. flabbergasted, even. his jaw almost drops in a shameless, teenaged boy way.

“dang. they’re so cute.”

you scoff. “cute? first boobs of your life and all you have to say is cute?”

“well what else can i say? i am not very well versed in the vast vocabulary that exists to describe your boobs.” he chuckles. “jeez, why is the word boob so fucking funny?”

you can’t help but smile timidly alongside him. that is what mark does, he makes you feel safe no matter what the situation. mark is always worried about you, worried if you are feeling comfortable and if you are okay with what is going on. he never wants things to be tense when you are around, because he hates to see you upset.

right now, you are the opposite of upset.

“y/n,” he brings your attention back to him. you hum in response. “can i touch?”

you freeze for a moment, and nod timidly. mark scoots a little bit closer, and reaches out with his right hand to gently cup your left breast. his hand is warm, and your skin needs a second to adjust to his temperature. he squeezes the flesh in the absolute slightest way, and quickly brings his hand back. he laughs almost exasperated.

“oh my god, it’s squishy? boobs are squishy?! why did that never register in my head?” he laughs loudly, as if he had just discovered something monumental.

“you’re just finding out now? oh my god mark, that’s common knowledge!”

mark looks down, his cheeks red from laughing. “dang, i’m so touch starved that i never knew until now that boobs are squishy. insanity.”

“the more you bring it up, the sadder it gets.” you reply.

he looks up at you with scrunched eyebrows. “don’t be mean. can i touch again?”

“yes, you can.”

mark cups your left boob with his right hand again, this time running his thumb softly over the supple skin. he doesn’t know what his limits are yet. can he go further? can he touch other parts of your boobs? can he touch other parts of your body? he is scared of going too fast and scaring you. mark is doing his very best today to be as careful as possible, as this is probably, remarkably, the best day of his life so far.

he pushes his index finger into your boob gently to poke it, and you laugh softly. at this point, you are just looking down at mark’s hand on your body. honestly, the fact that he isn’t doing anything is almost relaxing.

you look at how slowly his finger moves, like your skin is made up of the most delicate material in the world. he holds you with such care, such control. it is a feeling you want to feel again, and again, and again.

mark inhales slowly. he wants to go further. he wants more. he doesn’t know how you feel yet, but he will wait for you every step of the way.

but just as he opens his mouth, he hears a thud on his door. “mark hyung, we’re home! is y/n here? come eat with us!”

you both jump, as jaemin’s loud voice destroys the entire atmosphere. mark turns a cute shade of pink almost immediately, and takes his hand off of your skin. you are surprised at first, but lose all tension as you watch mark’s reaction. the poor boy is so embarrassed, but even more upset at how shortly your time was cut off. you laugh as he grabs your bra and tries to put it back on you. unfortunately, he cannot figure out how to close the back shut.

“i’m here! we’ll be there in a sec.” you shout, sparing mark from saying something stupid. you clip your bra straps together, and pull your shirt back on.

mark looks upset. “i’m so sorry they cut us off. they were supposed to be out all day, fuck. i’m sorry-”

“mark, baby, it’s okay. you didn’t know. besides, this isn’t ending here.”

mark looks up at you. “baby?”

“oh gosh, i don’t know where that came from. i’m sorry.”

“no no, its cute. i like it. baby. it just…”

“makes sense?”

he nods. “yeah. this makes sense. it really does.”

mark’s heart pounds in his chest as he takes your hands in his. today, they feel softer, warmer. he inhales sharply once again, hoping this time jaemin doesn’t break his door down, or something of the sort.

his thumb does the thing again, rubbing your skin gently. “y/n, i don’t want to be friends anymore. i think we are more than friends.”

you smile. “i do too. this makes sense.”

mark feels like he is going to explode. that would be bad though, because if he exploded, you would too. that wouldn’t be good for anyone.

“so i guess you’re my girlfriend now.”

you giggle softly. “that sounds so much better than best friend.”

“dang, it kinda does, doesn’t it?”

you let go of his hands and climb off his bed. he follows instantly after you do. right before you go to unlock the door, mark takes your hand once again, and turns you to face him.

you heart races as you lock eyes with him. you cannot believe everything that happened today. how your best friend, who you’d known for your whole life, confessed everything he felt for you, and poked your boobs mere minutes after. and that’s okay, because that’s mark. your mark.

“do we have to go down? i really want to see your boobs again.”

you lean over and place a kiss on his cheek, which causes him to lose his train of thought completely. “you’ll see them again soon, i promise. but if we don’t go down, jaemin will come upstairs and try opening your door. you know him, he’ll freak out when he sees that it’s locked. we’d get found out before we even have a chance to start.”

mark sighs. “fine. no more boobs today. guess i’ll just have to suffer without your boobs in my hands. shit, how am i going to survive?”

you unlock the door, and twist the handle. “well baby, i guess you’ll have to figure it out.”

#neowritingsnet #nct fluff #nct mark #mark lee #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct dream angst #i love mark lee #mark imagines #mark lee loml

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superhero--imagines · 3 years

Text

Part 12

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here!

* You stare at the blank ceiling, the smooth unblemished surface like freshly fallen snow

* you should really put some nudie posters up there or something to lighten the mood a little.

* Light notes from the piano float around your room

* You sigh, so these are the facts as you know them:

* Edward is your best friend who has occasional bouts of brooding and flirtatious behavior.

* Bella is not albino, she has a lovely peach undertone, and a lovely grilled peach scent

* The entire coven has treated your attraction to this young lady’s blood like you got caught masturbating or wetting the bed or something

* “You don’t need to be embarrassed it’s a perfectly natural feeling.” Esme tells you while rubbing your shoulders

* “We’ve all been there” Rosalie reassures

* “Totally not a big deal, it happens to me everyday!” Jasper chimes in

* You wish sunlight hurt you so you could combust into flames on the spot

* The piano notes get louder, and you feel your mouth pinch into a frown.

* “Oh my god Edward! Read the room, I want brooding music!”

* Edward stops, up until then he had been playing a pretty cheerful Mozart piece

* You can tell he wants to ask why, you’ve been radiating joy non-stop since biology. But he decides against it

* “You really shouldn’t eat lying down.” He says as you sip blood while lying flat on your bed.

* “Okay dad.” You snort

* Edward starts to imagine what it would be like if you called him ‘daddy’

* All needy on top of him, your hands curled in fists against his chest, the breathy “daddy please” that leaves your mouth

* All of a sudden he’s ugly turned on

* “Ugh you’re no fun, I’m going to hang out with Rosalie”

* You leave the room and Edward has a total meltdown, is this what a kink is? Is he discovering a kink?!? At 100 years of age?!?!?!?

* Edward.exe is broken

* You don’t even make it to Rosalie’s room, you can smell them a mile away

* Broccoli, sugar and fat, and axe body spray. No peaches you realize with a sigh.

* They’ve only just barely rung the door bell when you open the door

* “Hey what are you guys doing here?”

* Jessica’s standing in front, looking pretty at ease, while Mike and Angela look equally uncomfortable.

* Makes sense, Jessica’s here all the time now either for homework or to watch TV.

* Mike and Angela haven’t been back since your sweet sixteen

* “How did you get down here so fast?”

* “I saw your car from upstairs” you say with a sheepish smile.

* You wish Alice would have given you a heads up, you weren’t planning on pretending to be human right now. Still you probably look raggedy enough right now in sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt

* You can probably pull this sick thing off

* “We just wanted to check up on you, I heard from Mike and Angela you got sick during class.” And then in a more annoyed tone Jessica adds “And I guess you’re too sick to respond to all my texts and calls”

* Oh crap, where is your phone.

* You pat your pockets, and think when you saw it last

* “I left it in my locker” you smack your head. You told Edward to go grab your bag from class but you forgot your phone.

* “Hey don’t worry about it, I can get it for you tomorrow if you want.” Jessica rushes to your side and pats your arm. You shake your head

* “No I can get it myself, I’m fine I just ate something bad.” You mumble.

* You’re not missing school tomorrow. You would literally risk murder to smell Bella again.

* It’s not insatiable thirst like described in the books, more like a craving, like someone might have for nachos.

* It itches at you for a while, but if you just distract yourself long enough you can move on

* “Would you like to come in? I think Esme just baked cookies or scones or something.”

* Esme likes to bake for the smell and donate the food to the local shelter. That, or take it for her employees at her architectural firm in town.

* Firm is a loose word, she has maybe four employees, and they get one job a month, but it seems to make her happy.

* Angela and Mike give each other looks but Jessica perks up

* “Is she making those delicious earl grey scones again?” You sniff the air

* “I think she made some of that orange zest butter too”

* “Omg I am so happy you left your phone at school” Jessica giggles walking inside past you, you hear her greet Esme with a squeal

* “They really are good.” You tell them and your remaining human friends enter the house carefully

* “Soooo where is everyone?” Mike asks taking a look around your living room.

* “Ummm Rosalie’s in the garage, Alice is probably meditating on the roof, Emmett’s at swim practice, and Jasper’s probably at the barn.”

* “What about Edward?” Angela asks before Mike can ask about the barn

* Last you saw him he was playing the piano in your room, but it’s been a while since then

* “He’s probably in his room monologuing about the degradation of the American dream or something.”

* You lead them into the kitchen where Esme and Jessica are already deep in conversation about the wonder of her baking

* “-side is so light and fluffy, how do you get the tea flavor though”

* “Witchcraft.” Esme jokes, giving a full smile before putting another tray in the oven. Only Jessica laughs, the other two are too nervous to even sit down

* “Why don’t I teach you how when you come over next week.”

* Yeah you’re pretty sure Jessica is really only a fan of the “eating” and not of the “baking”

* You’re half surprised when she seems happy at the invitation.

* “Oh that sounds great, I can’t wait for it!” Jessica’s practically beaming

* Where’s Edward when you need him? You wonder what her motivations are.

* Jasper is not going to like this. He’s already irritated enough that he’s kicked out of his own house every Friday when Jessica comes over to watch arrested development

* Before you can say anything to Esme the conversation moves forward

* “Did you guys hear about that security guard that died in Mason county?”

* She’s just making small talk, you know that. But you and Esme instantly tense at the mention

* Carlisle had mentioned he thought there was a nomad wandering through, they were still far enough not to cause the coven immediate trouble, but anything that brought more attention to them was a disadvantage

* “My Dad says he heard from Chief Swan it was probably a wild animal attack” Mike mumbles over a bite of scone, you figured he would be the easiest to win over with food

* You hide a smile behind your hand, he really is like a golden retriever

* “What kind of a wild animal climbs stairs into a building” Jessica mumbles over another bite of scone. And maybe to fit in, or maybe because she’s always been a nervous eater, Angela takes a bite too.

* “Oh wow, these are really good” she murmurs

* Esme Cullen ladies and gentleman, winning the hearts of teenagers with baked goods since 19XX

* “Well you kids stay safe, stay together if you can.” She pats your head and you nod.

* You don’t know the details of the attack, you get the feeling Carlisle still see’s you as a kid and he doesn’t want to burden you.

* But assuming the small changes that have happened have nothing to do with the large changes, that means Laurent, James and Victoria will be passing through soon.

* Maybe it’s for the best Bella doesn’t get involved with Edward until later.

* You’d really like to not get all mixed up in the whole “James Thing” if you can help it.

* “Are you staying for dinner? I’m thinking of whipping up some pasta, maybe a chicken?” Esme looks to you, yeah you have no idea how she’s going to manage that. Besides the baking basics there’s no actually food in this kitchen. And the one upstairs is just for your blood bags.

* “(Y/N), do you think...Carlisle would mind if we used one of... his chickens?”

* His chickens? The only chickens in the house-

* “No Esme! My chickens are only for love and chicken snuggles” and their blood which tastes very leans yet rich. “Not to eat!”

* “It would just be one-we’ll eat your least favorite!”

* You’re really hoping this is her way of chasing the humans out because she doesn’t want to cook.

* “No- oh my god- we’re going to the diner come on!” You say tugging Jessica and Angela to stand.

* “It was great seeing you again Mrs. Cullen, see you next week!” Jessica shouts as the three of them follow you out.

* “Going out? Is that such a good idea it’s late and a school night.” Edward says as he descends down the stairs

* “Oh my god, yes Dad I’ll be home before my curfew.” You say before leaving, cue Edward crumbling onto the stairs as he imagines you calling him “daddy” again

* “I’m going to hell, I’m definitely going to hell.” He mumbles, his face in his hand.

* It’s a really short drive to the diner, also known as the only place to eat in Forks in the mid 2000’s.

*There’s not even a McDonald’s. It’s almost sad

* And when you get there, while everyone moves ahead to the table you see a familiar face.

* “Oh, Hey Bella”

* Your eyes met and you figured it would be rude not to say anything. It looks like she’s here having dinner with her Dad.

*She really does look like her dad, same eyes, same cheekbones.

* “Nice to see you again Chief Swan”

* “Nice to see you too, how’s Carlisle doing? Heard it’s been busy at the hospital.”

* “Yeah, it’s like he doesn’t sleep anymore.” You grin at your own joke.

* “Are you feeling alright now?” Bella asks, she looks genuinely concerned

* “Yeah, I um, made some questionable food choices at lunch.”

* There’s an awkward moment of silence. You get the impression that Chief Swan and his daughter are both the “strong silent” types.

* It looks like they’ve both finished eating already

* If you had known she was going to be here you would have made Edward come with you.

* “Oh hey, do you want to join us for dinner?” It just seems like the friendly thing to do for the new girl, something on-brand with human character

* Definitely not because if you get on her good side now, maybe she won’t kick you out once her and Edward get married.

*Father and daughter exchange a glance and the familiar connection they have makes you nervous.

*“Of course you don’t have to, I know you’re here with your dad so-“

* “I’m sure Bella would love to join-“ Charlie says at the same time Bella says:

* “Wouldn’t it be kind of weird since I already ate.”

* Ah, so they’re not as in sync as you thought.

* You give your best “Golden Girl - You can totally trust me with your daughter” smile.

* “I’m actually not eating either,” you place a hand over your stomach like a human might. “The uh, Clam Linguine is still haunting me, so I’m sticking to broth and sprite.”

* Why did you say Clam? You don’t even eat meat, it’s how you’ve been getting away with eating so little at lunch.

* “not a lot of vegetarian choices” You say to your human friends who nod solemnly.

* Father and Daughter exchange another look likening telepathic communication and they both move to stand

* “I’m going to finish up some paperwork at the precinct, don’t stay out to late.” Charlie says, leaning down to kiss his daughter on the forehead

* You watch with warm eyes and a small smile twitching onto your lips

* Bella is so loved.

* You can’t believe she’s willing to break her dad’s heart just so she can be 19 forever.

* Which, as you are 19 forever, you can fairly say is overrated

* “Hey guys Bella’s joining us.”

* Your female friends offer her a polite smile, you see Angela gaze flick from the menu to Bella’s face. Silently calculating the worth of this opportunity

* Any intel on this new girl would be pretty valuable

* Same old Angela

* Mike sits up straight so fast that he actually knocks his silverware off the table.

* “H-hey Bella, Hi, w-what, what are you doing here?”

* “Eating.” Bella says it so bluntly that you can’t help but laugh.

* Mike flushes bright red and Jessica and Angela exchange a look before giggling.

* “I thought it would be cool if she came over since I didn’t get to talk to her much.” You take a seat next to Jessica and Bella follows by taking the last seat between you and Mike.

* You still catch whiffs of her scent her and there, especially when she’s sitting so close to you.

* But it’s not so bad, the peachy smell is making you a little lightheaded, but you can handle it.

* At least you’re not fantascizing about killing her and everyone in this room like a certain dork you know.

* “Do you guys want to do that promotion where we get the basket of fries for the table?” Jessica asks

* “I don’t like sharing fries with Mike he eats them all.” Angela mumbles

* Yeah you remember last time when after a football game the three of them actually sat down and divided the plate in three equal portions

* They even measured out each fry dividing up the extra long ones

* “Says the person who basically eats ketchup with a spoon.” Mike retorts and Angela scoffs

* “It’s America’s best condiment for a reason Mike.” Angela snaps back

* “I think we’re getting off track, I say Mike buys us all french fries to make up for all the times he hogged the joint basket” Jessica’s teasing but Mike takes it seriously

* “What so I’m a French fry monster now?”

* “Yes” Both Angela and Jessica respond in unison without looking up from their menu cards

* “What do you think Bella?” You’re surprised that Jessica’s the one asking. You get the feeling she’s not very happy about Mike’s crush on Bella.

* “I think Mike should buy everyone their own basket since he has such a bad history with sharing.”

* “You traitor!” Mike mocks hurt and you all laugh.

* You look at Bella through the corner of your eye, maybe it’s just the lighting but she looks pinker when she’s laughing.

* She looks happy as she starts contributing to the conversation.

* “I will say the pie here is really good, I wouldn’t share even if someone paid me to.”

* “Omg yes, the cheery icebox pie is out of this world” Jessica responds

* “I’m partial to chess pie” Mike pipes in and Angela laughs

* “You guys are crazy, the fruit custard they make is the best”

* You grin as your four new friends argue about the superior dessert, watching Bella laugh beside you.

* Welcome to team human Bella

Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @xxxmuxxx @puritanicalhypocrite

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight headcanon #twilight reader insert #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #edward and bella #bella swan x reader #Bella x reader #bella swan #Jessica Stanley x reader #mike newton #angela weber #midnight sun #superhero--imagines

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sconnie-doesnt-know · 3 years

Text

So Wrong

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Reader, Jane Bodecker, assorted OCs, also gonna go ahead and say Lee is kinda soft/dark in this one

Word Count: 8000

Warnings: Infidelity, alcohol usage, smoking, somewhat dub-con sexual stuff, but not really

Summary: The Reader is a young single mother and widow new to the town of Meade. She gets drawn into a social circle that includes the Sheriff’s wife, while also being drawn to the Sheriff himself.

A/n: I truly don’t know where this came from or why I wrote it. I watched TDATT and suddenly this whole thing just popped into my head complete with a Patsy Cline soundtrack. There’s infidelity on Lee’s part, and his wife is terrible, and these are fictional characters so I am trying to not feel guilty for making that happen.

There’s more to this story, probably extending into 1 or 2 more parts. I don’t know what to say for myself, I cannot pwp. Feedback and constructive criticism are welcome. Not beta-read, so please let me know if there’s an error.

Hope you enjoy!

Meade is as good a place as any to settle. Surrounded by wilderness and small towns, it’s quiet, far from anyplace and anyone you know. A welcome adventure and a place to dispose of your grief, finally - hopefully.

You pull up on a quiet street and sit there just a moment to breathe, to look at the life you had that is settled in between the few boxes and suitcases of belongings, the folded up flag, and the little boy you buckled into the seat.

Through a tangled web of connections, you are able to rent a little upper duplex apartment from the widow in town. She claims she doesn’t mind a little noise as your son stomps up the stairs and gives you an open invitation to join her at church on Sundays.

It is six days into your new residence, the first Monday in town when the apparent welcoming committee shows up at your door. She wears a gentle smile on her face and presents you with a warm pie still wrapped in cloth.

“My name is Jane Bodecker, my husband’s the Sheriff. I wanted to introduce myself…”

You know the routine after moving around a few times already. You imagine the conspiring during the luncheon after church yesterday, the ladies munching on dry cookies and deciding who would be the first to talk to you.

You nod and smile, and accept the offering.

“Some of us like to get together to play cards and socialize on Tuesdays, it would be nice to have you join us and let us get to know you.”

Of course she means that they are chomping at the bit to know why a single woman with no family ties has moved into town. You’re familiar with the ritual and know you need to go along if you want to make it work in this place.

You return her smile, “That would be so kind of you, as long as you don’t mind my son coming along.” You gesture to the little boy hiding in your skirts behind you.

“Of course he can. He can play with my boy, Robert. We will see you at two.” She leaves you with her address and directions over, telling you to look for the house with the red shutters.

Their house is in one of the newer, more developed parts, with some manufactured homes lining the street and looking boxy compared to the traditional farmhouses, but it's charming. The red shutters stand out, that’s for certain. It doesn’t take long to figure out that Jane is a proud host, head of the gossip chain, and is required to mention “My husband, the Sheriff” at least once per conversation.

You let the ladies ask their questions and nod politely as they give you the required chorus of condolences. You feel the shift when Jane steers the conversation to what they all want to know. “Now, I don’t mean to spread gossip, but some folks were wondering why you rented a place here instead of goin’ home to your family.”

Your shoulders stiffen, ‘so much for not putting me on the spot’ you think, but you still smile politely as you answer. “I have no other family. My daddy was gone when I was a girl and my momma dropped me off with an aunt and uncle when she was with husband number three and I don’t know where she is. They said it was the first thing she did that made a lick of sense,” you try to joke. “Well, they didn’t exactly approve of me and Jimmy, so when we married they told me not to go back.”

“And the boy’s other kin?”

“Ain’t no other kin. Jimmy’s family was small, they’re gone now.”

“Well, ain’t you a tragedy,” she says in a chirpy, high voice.

Your face tightens and you stare at your lap, “We get by,” you weakly mutter.

They all assure you that they have some nice gentlemen they can introduce to you, and go on about how fortunate you are they are pulling you into their group. You hear about faceless people and their minor transgressions, but get bored with it fairly quickly and use the time to look over the Bodecker home. It’s nice, a mixture of modest and a few state-of -the-art updates. There’s more dust than you expect, the sofa cushions look worn down, with only a few photos on display. The sheriff’s face shrouded in shadows in the one you can see, but you figure their son must take after him since he doesn’t have the pinched look his mother seems to naturally have.

You don’t even meet ‘her husband, the Sheriff’ until your third Tuesday afternoon of cards at their home. Jane herself is practically giving a campaign speech since the election so close. You never paid a lot of attention to local politics, and you try to give her your attention, but when she starts to ramble on it’s just too much. You happen to look to the side to avoid rolling your eyes and catch just when he strolls in, as if on cue with the uniform all perfectly in place. He scans the group of women until he stops on you, eyes lighting up with interest.

Your own breath catches in your throat at the sight of him as he removes his hat and looks you over.

“Well,” he drawls, “You must be the sweet new thing that’s got all the fellas in town rioting.”

You have to look down, lest the embarrassment make you combust.

“Now, Lee,” Jane scolds, “That’s no way to say hello. Come over here and introduce yourself properly.” She guides him over, and you almost say it with her when she recites, “This is my husband, the Sheriff.”

“Apologies, miss. I know you aren’t trying to get them all riled. Janey told me ‘bout your husband. War is Hell, shame to be losing boys like that.”

He holds his hand out to shake yours, his hold firm and warm and you are hesitant to let go.

“I appreciate that, thank you, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he nods, eyes flicking over you one more time. “What are your plans in this lovely town of ours?”

“Oh. Well,” you freeze up for a moment, it’s the first time someone’s asked and you don’t have your answer prepared. “Well, I was thinking that I would get a job. We get by right now, but once my boy is in school, I would like something else to do.”

Jane jumps on your answer, “Let’s just see if we can’t find you a bachelor around here. Plenty of boys can use someone to take care of ‘em, but if you want a man who will be home on time, you stay away from any of the deputies. I can’t remember the last time Lee wasn’t busy with something or other from the county. I suppose that’s the life we’ve chosen though, isn’t it?”

Her voice sounds overly sweet, but you can sense the daggers in her words. It’s the way he reacts, shifting on his feet and rolling his jaw like he’s annoyed. Jane doesn’t even pay attention to anything but the cards in her hand. Some of the other ladies nod, but the sheriff just lowers his head before he pulls Jane to the side to talk to her quietly.

You track his movements, fascinated until you shake yourself out of it. It’s been years since you felt like that or even saw a man that caught your attention - not since Jimmy. It’s alarming, unnerving.

The wave of guilt that washes over you is more than you can handle.

“Please excuse me, but we must be going.” You get up without waiting for any response and practically yank your son right out of the house as Jane calls after you that she will see you again soon.

You brush off the incident after having some time to think, convinced that it is just because you were caught off guard, and try to go on as normally as you can.

Your days end up filled with social calls, running errands or helping your landlady, and keeping your son busy. He asks to play with the Bodecker boy nearly every day, but you try your best to keep your distance when you can, especially when she starts trying to arrange dates for you even when you politely decline.

You look at the other ladies sometimes and wonder how many of them are just tolerating her the way you do. There’s just something grating about the way her voice goes especially nasally when she has something not-very-Christian to say, or the way she talks so openly and obscenely about the apparent whorehouse in town. She doesn’t even seem the least bit shameful when she begins to complain about her sister-in-law and the trouble she gets up to despite her brother being the sheriff.

Sheriff Bodecker, on the other hand, is a bit more friendly than you anticipated, expecting him to be cold or rude, but usually he’s the one pushing his wife to extend a coffee or supper invitation your way and making small talk when you are still around when he gets home from work or if he catches you around town. Your own mind suspects that it’s maybe just a sense of civic duty to know his neighbors, but it’s nice to have company nonetheless.

Conversation with him comes easily. He talks with you about interesting news stories, about the boys, about some of the other towns, and even plans for the county. It’s interesting, not just debate on whether the new curtains chosen by someone or other are tacky. There are times you get lost talking with him and need to be corralled back in by Jane or Steven getting antsy.

The way he draws your eye is a mixture of curiosity and interest. It makes you notice when he’s driving the patrol car or when you see him around town. You catch how tired he seems at the end of the days, how he’s usually got a piece of candy to slip to kids when they come by and are brave enough to ask. You notice how he knows everyone in town and seems to have an eye on everything, checking in at the shops and breaking up the young men when they start to roughhouse.

In a place like this, Jane Bodecker is far from the only gossiper in town, so while she might not share much about herself or her husband, plenty of others do. Some of the things they say are just nitpicking and you try to drown it out. They’ve been decent to you since your arrival, but it’s hard to ignore the constant whispers of how power went right to their heads.

When the election is over and she gets the right to continue to say “My husband, the Sheriff” you start to really see what they say. She loses the facade of playing the good wife, but still hosts her weekly card meetings to keep up to date. Instead of just coffee and tea, she starts slipping sips of whiskey and gives her opinion a bit more freely than before, and often hurling insults anywhere they can land.

It’s painful to watch her put down everyone, but especially the sheriff when he gets in her way. When you catch him sending a frustrated look at her turned back or rolling his eyes at her complaints about the town and its people, you pretend not to notice and remember to keep a smile on. Her outbursts get more and more unhinged and brazen, and the defeat and exhaustion in his stance makes you ache. There’s a hurt you can’t vocalize without overstepping, but it eats at you, chips at your patience bit by bit.

When the sheriff pulls the cruiser over one day while you’re walking between stores to say hi and make some small talk, you’re pleased. He seems less worn down, it’s nice to see.

“Oh, Sheriff, you’ve got some good timing,” you reach into one of your shopping bags, pulling out a paper bag of hard candies you bought from the candy shop. “While doing the washing, I found a handful of wrappers. Turns out the boys were getting into your candy stash. Thought you might need a refill.”

You hand him the bag and the smile he gives you in return makes your chest tighten up and ache.

“Sweet things from a sweet thing, thank you darlin’.”

You bit down on your lips, desperate to not react to his flirtatious words. “It’s nothin’, Sheriff.”

“Not to me.”

You start to sway from foot to foot, looking down at the sidewalk with a hum and trying to come up with something else to say. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before his radio crackles with a call from the station. You take the opportunity to make your exit.

“I’ll be seeing you, Sheriff.”

He shoots a glare at the radio, but looks back at you with what you could only describe as longing. “Sure will, Sweets.” Usually something like that would sound condescending, but from him it sounds endearing. He winks and pulls the car away, talking to the dispatcher while he drives.

‘Sweets...sweet thing...darlin’’ his voice repeats over and over in your head, fingers trembling and clumsy with the rush they give you and the way your heart races.

You get nearly sick when you recognize the feelings you’re having. It’s like it was when you were first with Jimmy. When you couldn’t even look him in the eyes because you felt too overwhelmed by your feelings for him. When you flushed and overheated when he got close and said pretty things. When you used to hold onto his hand and promise yourself that you would care for him every day and prove your love to him.

That’s when you realize you’re coveting another woman’s husband.

It’s Thursday, which means you need to head down to Main Street to visit the pharmacy for your landlady, Mrs. Martins, and gather some groceries for the week. You had made plans with Jane to let the boys play together while you took ran errands. You don’t have a good excuse to change the plan, but you can’t help but ask again, “You sure you don’t mind him being here?”

“Not at all,” she smiles, a bit wider and more manic than usual, “Now if that handsome Wilford boy happens to ask you for supper, don’t you worry about rushin’ back, ya hear?”

You laugh at her latest unsubtle attempt, “I will keep it in mind, thanks.” She and a few others had started to meddle, putting eligible bachelors in your path and setting up dates on your behalf. You do try. You talk to them, let them flirt, but none hold your interest. They’re boys - lanky and lean, still all reckless and rowdy. Not what you’re looking for, nothing like the solid, filled-out figure of a man, someone secure and stable and in a uniform. But that’s something to think about another day.

Wilford does indeed ask.

You do not feel so inclined to take up the offer, especially when he pinches the round of your ass as he asks you to consider dessert before any supper.

He has you pressed against the wall outside the hardware store, letting the sun blind you and bring tears to your eyes as the bricks snag the delicate threads of your dress.

He only backs away when a loud voice booms out, “There a problem here, son?”

He turns his head to find Lee pulled to the side of the road, window down and arm resting on the frame, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“No sir, Sheriff, just makin’ some supper plans, ain’t we?” Wilford looks back at you with a leer. Your hands press flat against the building and your knee twitches with the urge to jerk up and hurt him.

“I thought we were expecting you tonight, isn’t that right?” Lee asks you pointedly.

Your attacker looks back at Lee, then to you, and you nod. Finally, you’re given some space.

“I imagine you need to be moving along then?” Lee checks, waiting impatiently for Wilford to answer.

“Yessir.” He gives you a wicked grin and spins away to go back down the street. “Maybe another time when you’re free.”

You shake your head, eyes narrowed at his back as you glare.

Lee taps the side of the cruiser, “C’mere.”

You take a shaky breath and gather yourself with a nod before taking the few steps across the sidewalk. Leaning down you take a moment to look him over in his uniform, the badge gleaming in the sunshine and eyes clear blue as the sky.

“You alright, Sweets?” he asks, voice low and gentle. He’d taken to calling you that since the candy incident, always in that same tone - like it’s precious and important. The way it hits you right in the center of your chest hurts more than the physical damage done a moment ago. You know he isn’t asking if your heart is aching, or if you’re alright being lonely, or any of the ways you’re feeling it right now, but it strikes you in an unexpected way.

“I’m fine,” you smile tightly, “Thank you for checking.”

“These boys just don’t know how to handle themselves when they see a pretty lady.” Your cheeks ache as you try to keep from beaming at the off-hand comment. “Ya know, I’m getting ready to head on home, you need a ride that way? I’m guessing your boy is stirrin’ up some shit with mine?” He turns and scans the road and sidewalk around you, fidgeting a bit as he asks.

“I still have to make another stop and my car is at the end of the block, but thank you.” You stand up.

“Well, I mean it, you and Steven stay for supper tonight, I’ll square it with Jane.”

“You don’t hav’ta do that-”

“No worries, darlin’.” He winks, taps his fingers on the shell of the door by the painted logo and waits until you nod in agreement. “See you soon, then.” And with a nod he pulls off the curb.

You watch the cruiser drive away, then look up and down the street, but no one else is there. You finally manage to draw in a full breath, and rush to get to the cool air of the pharmacy to ease the flush burning you from the inside out.

You make it back to the Bodecker’s before the sheriff, glad to have a few moments to smooth things over with Jane since she clearly had not expected you to turn down the date she arranged for you.

“He wasn’t too much of a handful, was he? I told him before I left that he better mind you today.”

She waves you off, sitting back down at the table with her abandoned cigarette in the tray and a small glass of brown liquor.

“Well, the boys’ll sleep tonight, that’s for sure. They’ve been running circles round the whole damn house.” She ashes the cigarette before taking another puff and settling against the backrest of the chair.

You take a moment to look over the kitchen, a pot is just about to boil over so you make your way to it. “Can I help you out with anything? Give you a moment to freshen up ‘fore Lee gets home?”

“I suppose that’s the least you can do.” Her cheeks draw in another puff and she hums, taking her glass with her as she goes to their bedroom.

The boys run inside, breathless and sweaty, both shouting while they tell you about a nest they found outside before you order them off to get washed up themselves. You look down the hall, waiting to see if Jane was on her way back or if she was expecting you to finish her cooking. Rather than let it burn, you do just that, taking care of the potatoes, adding a few seasonings as you go, and pulling out the meatloaf from the oven.

The screen door squeaks and boots thud through the house when Lee enters and makes his way to the kitchen. You nervously look over your shoulder, catching him leaning against the door jamb, spinning his hat in his hand, a soft smile on his lips as he looks your way.

“This is a sight. If I didn’t know better I’d think I wandered into the wrong house.”

You let out a bit of a nervous laugh, then look back down to the greens you were tending to, “I am so sorry, I kept your wife busy longer than I should’ve. She’ll be out in just a minute.” You go back to busying yourself with finishing up the meal.

“Not complainin’,” he mutters under his breath, but you still hear it and it makes your breath hitch. Jane could set you on edge with her snide remarks, so could Lee, but for completely different reasons - some that had been dormant for so long you didn’t know what to do.

Just then Jane makes her grand reappearance, hair freshly combed and lips tinged with a touch of color; her cheeks look ruddy, but you can’t tell if it’s rouge or flush from the alcohol she’s been sipping.

“Don’t you go adding too much milk to my potatoes, nobody likes ‘em all runny. Here, let me,” she says and nudges you out of the way, “See you gotta mix in just a little bit right there.”

She overpours anyway, her hands moving unsteadily as she mashes the potatoes up, making them runny just like she warned you about.

From behind you, you see Lee go to the table, picking up the liquor bottle and examining the contents, making marks with his fingers against the side of the bottle and shaking his head. He takes a swig himself and sets it back down.

He mumbles something about being sober, then walks down the hall to where Jane disappeared, stopping to say something to make the boys giggle on the way before they wrestle each other at the bathroom sink to wash up for supper.

The meal starts off quiet, just the utensils scraping along the plates, but Jane being the gracious host, finally tries to perk it up with conversation.

“I know Wilford might be a little rough ‘round the edges for someone from a bigger town, but there are still several other young men I can introduce you to,” she offers, unprompted.

You choke a little before you recover and finish chewing your bite of food.

“You needn’t go through the trouble, Mrs. Bodecker. Really.”

“It’s just, you’re so young to be widowed already and all alone. What kinda home will it be for the boy with no man around? And don’t you want more kids? I bet you just glow. Some of the ladies at my bible study wouldn’t mind setting you up.”

The idea makes you squirm. No, you aren’t dead inside, but there’s no way for you to get what - who you really want.

The sheriff speaks up then. “My old man took off on my ma, sister, and me. That’s just the way shit happens sometimes,” he says and you feel the dark cloud start to clear just a bit. You nod at him, acknowledging the little bit of affirmation.

“What was your husband like?” Jane presses, digging a little further into that painful wound. “Maybe that will help me out.”

Your Jimmy didn’t have much to give you, but he gave you all he could. He gave you the kind of love that made your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your stomach swoop with butterflies. Your eyes flick toward Lee and you think again about how alike they seem to you, handsome, intuitive, assertive, strong-willed. He catches your gaze and pauses his chewing for a brief second while he waits for your answer.

“He was a good man, strong and fair. I’d like to think he and Mr. Bodecker would’ve gotten on quite well,” you finally say, smiling kindly at them both in turn.

Lee’s lips curl into a smile while he finishes chewing, then sits back with a stretch. “You’re makin’ me sound like an old man,” he whines, “Call me Lee when I’m not on duty.”

“Yes sir,” you automatically reply. “Lee.”

His smile grows. “Say, Janey? Why don’t you go get that jug of wine up for us?”

She nods and gets up.

“Wine?” you ask, surprised.

“It’s nothin’ special, someone up the road makes it. Tastes better than that church wine, but don’t burn like the shine some other folks are brewin’ up.”

Jane comes back with three glasses and pours generously for you all, her own motions increasingly sloppy from her afternoon drinking.

You sip at it, the taste a little tart, but not as acidic and thank them for their generosity.

“Jane, you do something different with the seasoning tonight?”

“No,” she answers, then goes right back to her chat with you, you think about speaking up, but she goes back to leading the conversation. “So, you still thinking about becoming a working gal?”

“Not right away, but yes.”

“Oh?” Lee asks, “Something at the diner? I think the grocery is hiring?”

“Nuh uh,” her voice takes on a nasty tone, “Nothing like that for her. She went to secretary school.” The lilt in her voice makes it clear that she doesn’t care for that little fact. “Can you believe that? School just to learn to file a paper or take a message.”

“There’s more to it than that,” you quietly defend.

“Jane, what the hell do you know? You haven’t worked a day in your life?” Lee asks.

Jane rolls her eyes, body slumping a bit in her chair. “Well, whatever you do, just make sure you don’t go working at the Tecumsah.” She snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “That’s where Lee’s sister works. I told you ‘bout her before.” She gives you a look. “That place is a den of sin, if you know what I am gettin’ at.”

“You’re are gonna spoil my appetite talkin’ like that,” he says. He drops his fork and you startle, his glare at his wife making clear this is another sore subject.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she mutters. “I’m gettin’ tired of mending the buttons on your clothes.”

Your jaw nearly drops. You wring your napkin on your lap and scramble for something to change the subject and break the tension, “Jane, there are such lovely flowers planted right by the library, is there a gardening club around here that you haven’t told me about?”

She’s bored by the topic, but it does enough to distract her and send her on a tangent. You nod and hum while you pick at your food. Occasionally you glance to Lee at the side and find him looking at you appreciatively.

You keep turning the conversation away from yourself, getting her to talk about anything you can as she keeps refilling and sipping down more of her wine.

You use the next lull in conversation to make your exit.

“This has been lovely, and I am so thankful for everything today, but we really oughtta get back home. I need to make sure Mrs. Martins gets her items from the pharmacist and I need to try to fix the old projector she’s given me.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Lee asks, leaning forward.

“No idea,” you laugh. “I was hoping to puzzle it together.”

“I can take a look for you,” he offers.

“If you have a moment,” you turn to Jane, “And you don’t mind sparing him.”

She scoffs and waves her fingers, “Nah, take Robert with you.”

He grunts in response while the kids leap up, excited for more time together. You do what you can to clean up and ease the load for Jane, but she’s getting more irritable by the minute, so you shuffle to the door to leave.

You head to the driveway where your car’s parked, waiting for him outside while the boys chase each other around the cars. He steps out the door, swinging his key ring on his fingers, looking at ease without the uniform on, but still strutting with an air of authority. It makes your stomach swoop.

“The Martins place? What road is that on again?” he asks jarring you out of your staring.

“Just follow me, Sheriff. I mean - Lee,” You nod as you get into the driver’s seat, Steven climbing in on the other side.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He mutters it loud enough that you hear him. The tilted, teasing grin on his face as he climbs into his own car almost makes you certain it was his intention.

When you get out, there’s a lump in your throat and the air suddenly feels heavy. Thankfully, the short walk up your drive is quiet, the sheriff walking leisurely next to you and laughing at the boys as they race each other down the sidewalk.

“I gotta go in the back way,” you swallow thickly as you tell him while you open up the gate, “There’s a private staircase for us there.”

He nods and follows.

When you enter the small apartment, you’re grateful that you don’t have much to fuss over and that it is tidy by default.

“Why don’t you boys go play with the Lincoln Logs or race cars? Nothing too loud right now,” you suggest and push them off toward the small room Steven occupies. “I got the parts all together right here, but I think something is missing.” You point to the box with the projector parts and reels.

“No problem,” Lee’s voice is quiet in your small space. He takes out the parts and starts to fit things together, checking a few switches here and there after a couple of minutes before patting the top of it with a, “There you go.”

You smile widely, “That’s it? Really?”

“That’s it, Sweets,” he matches your smile.

You suddenly hate the idea of him leaving so quickly, so you look around for something else.

“Coffee?”

He nods. “It’s like you read my mind,” there’s a glint in his eye as he gives you a generous once-over.

You feel a flush and quickly turn away to the kitchen.

Your hands tremble as you fill the kettle with water and scoop grounds into the press.

The boys break into a fit of giggles and before you can call after them, you feel the warm presence of Lee shuffle up behind you. His boots scuff against the floor as he stops, then seconds later his arms cage you in from behind, his palms resting against the edge of the countertop.

His breaths are deep, his nose just tickling along the neckline of your dress and you feel your back stiffen at the rush.

“You’re so lovely Sweets,” he whispers.

Your breath shakes as you suck it in. “S-sheriff,” you swallow thickly, “Lee? What’re you doing?”

“You’re beautiful, y’know.”

You remain still, unable to whisper anything but his name again.

“I see the way you look at me,” he presses a kiss to your skin that’s so gentle and tender but nearly makes your knees buckle. “Like you want somethin’.”

“I’m not - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you weakly deny.

One arm leaves the counter to wrap around your middle, pulling you even closer to him while he steps right up behind you, the whole front of him up against your back. The movement makes you gasp and arch just slightly. You’re unable to catch yourself from rolling your head back to lean against him fully and feeling him grunt.

“You don’t need to make any excuses. You want me, dontcha?” he talks with his lips pressed right against your neck, heavy breaths tickling at your hairline.

God, do you want him. The sudden feeling of a warm, masculine body against you is something you didn’t realize you missed so much. For years it’s just been you and your boy and focusing on the day to day, not thinking about the way a strong arm feels pulled around you with fingers just tickling at your sensitive skin - until suddenly that’s exactly what is happening. And how you’ve missed it, your muscles nearly seize up with tension as you try to fight how good it feels.

It’s like trying to drag yourself from a dream, slow and muted as you try to make sense of everything at once; a sharp clarity punches through hard and fast.

“Your wife,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, ready to try to pry him off.

“That fucking pig? I don’t love her, I don’t want her. She don’t want me either.”

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that,” you tell him and start to pull away, squirming away but getting nowhere since he doesn’t budge an inch. He allows you to spin around between himself and the countertop. “Lee? What is this? What’re you doing?”

It’s a stupid question. You know what this is. You can remember moments like these with your late husband, but Lee is not your husband. You know his wife. You just spent the evening with her in their home.

He doesn’t answer. Instead his free hand starts to skim up along your side until his thumb catches at the curve at the bottom your breast, then slides up so that he can rub his thumb back and forth over your dress, teasing at your hardened nipple.

It makes you whimper and nearly fold in half with how sensitive you feel.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he coos, his lips parted and eyes tracking the movement of his thumb.

You lift your arms to his shoulders, uncertain yet if you’re planning to push him away or pull him close when you hear the quick footsteps of the boys.

Lee steps back to give you some distance and your hands flutter mid-air as you try to compose yourself.

The boys start to whine over each other-

“Momma. Robert keeps knocking over my building.”

“No, he keeps takin’ the blocks I’m using.”

Some kind of clarity forms and you rush out a solution for them, “Why don’t you get out your TinkerToys and split it all up? Alright? Go back to the other room,” you nudge them away.

Problem solved, they run back to the room, leaving you standing in the kitchen, Lee lingering just feet away and the half-finished coffee press on the counter.

“Jane must be expecting you home by now.”

He grunts and shakes his head ruefully, “She’s probably passed out by now.”

“Oh,” you nod. You search for something, anything to excuse yourself and catch your breath, “I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me a moment.”

You slip out of the kitchen and into the door just down the hall. Taking a moment to relieve yourself then press a cool rag to your cheeks. You’d nursed the glass of wine Jane had poured, so you knew deep down you weren’t tipsy, you were just overrun by the feelings the sheriff gave you. Once you get your first full breath in minutes, you feel better, calmer and more controlled. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide - you just need to send him on home.

You barely crack open the bathroom door when it’s pushed open wide, Lee wedging in when it’s wide enough and nearly slamming it shut behind him.

“Don’t hide from me, Sweets,” is all he says before he’s got one arm around your middle again, and the other holding the back of your neck while he presses his lips against yours. After gasping in surprise, you instinctively return the kiss - your tongue and lips tentative against his dominating mouth.

It’s strange - all of it so strange after so long. It’s been years since your last kiss and you feel clumsy, out of practice, but he doesn’t hesitate one bit, doesn’t seem turned off by your uncoordinated motions and hands that can’t keep still over his middle and shoulders.

He takes in a deep breath, pausing for just a second to position himself better, then he’s back on you, and you feel ready for him this time. One hand resting on his chest while the other hooks up around his neck, your fingers stroking through the soft, short hairs at the back of his head. He turns the both of you, pressing you against the vanity sink.

“Lee,” you whimper when he wedges a leg between yours.

“Shh, shh, sshh. I got you.”

His kisses are relentless and make you light-headed, gasping for breaths every time he slightly lets up. His hands push and pull, struggling against your dress and your undergarments until he’s freed one breast and can drop his head to suckle at your hard peak.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, mind painfully aware of the children in the room nearby. You crack open an eye to make sure the door is still closed and try to focus on the sounds the kids are making, but his tongue and lips are too distracting. He pulls as much of your breast into his mouth as he can, greedily swirling his tongue all over the sensitive bud, and pulling away with a loud pop.

You slap at his shoulder while he just looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Feels good, right?” He places his hand to cup your breast, thumb flicking at your nipple. “Let me have you, I’ll make you feel so good, my sweet girl. Please?”

His own eyes close as he ruts up against you, his hard length pressing against your hip and sending a tremor through your body, practically shaking your bones. You don’t move though, your hands stay frozen where you hold onto him, but he continues to lead and coax you along.

One wide hand holds you at the back of your neck, just holding you in place. His mouth moves across your cheeks and at the hinge of your jaw. He whispers quiet promises of satisfaction, telling you how lovely you are and confirming every word with a kiss. His other hand leaves your breast after one final and quick pinch and grabs at the bottom of your dress. The fabric bunching in his fist as he gathers it until he can feel your thigh.

Then he teases you with just the tips of his fingers, sliding right up and over til he meets where your thighs meet. It tickles, makes you shake a little, and then you’re sucking in a hard gasp when he keeps going until he pets and presses over your sex with the pads of his fingertips.

“So wet,” he says on an exhale, pressing right where you feel your excitement leaking. “You want me too. It’s alright.”

To prove his point, he presses harder, flattening his hand until he’s cupping you and making your body jerk between him and the sink. You bend your knees to open your thighs wider with the touch, and he groans and presses hard against you again, the heel of his palm putting pressure to your throbbing clit. You struggle to not hook your leg right over his hip to let him in.

“Lee,” you start to beg, “Please. Oh my god, please.”

It’s so overwhelming you start to sob, the tears already prick at the corners of your eyes. Just being touched, feeling the warmth of him, and the words - it’s all that you remembered being with a man to be and more. His hand keeps a rhythm against you, driving you higher. You hadn’t had a man’s touch in years, but suddenly you need Lee like you need air.

“Please,” you say again. Your body tingles with electricity that has nowhere to go.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, baby. I’m gonna take care of ya. Am I what you need?”

“Yes,” tears start to roll down your cheeks. He pulls back slightly until he can slip his fingers underneath your panties, gliding right through your arousal. You feel two of his fingers slide into you, and you squeeze around them instantly.

“Fuck,” he grunts. Your wetness drips down his fingers into his palm. He presses the heel of it against you again, right against your sensitive clit this time. “Come on my fingers, sweetness.”

He fucks you with his hand, his thick, solid fingers caressing you while he sends jolts of pleasure through you with pressure on your sensitive button. You squirm to get away, but the hand still at the back of your neck tightens and holds you down, making you take it.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, “It’s alright.”

And that’s it. You freeze for a moment as the pleasure peaks and then you’re trembling as the shocks of it rush through you in a blaze. You can hear the wetness drowning his fingers as he keeps pumping them into you while you clench over him repeatedly and sob as quietly as you can, which must not be very quiet because he starts to shush you and slow the movement of his hand, gently attempting to calm you down.

“You’re okay, s’alright baby, just breathe, c’mon,” you hear him coach, but all you can focus on is the thumping beat of your heart as it races and trying to catch your breath between sniffles, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

His hand slides out from your panties to grab you steady at your waist, the hand from your neck moves so he can use his thumb to wipe away your tears. He presses his forehead to yours and tells you to breathe with him.

You blink your eyes open, eyelashes glittering with wetness and you take a minute to focus. Once things are clear, you tilt your head back to look at him. His cheeks are flushed, lips wet and rosy, and his eyes - they nearly glow as he looks you over. It’s something to see - awe, tenderness, pride all in the twitches of his lips as his lips turn up with a smile.

“Sweets, will you touch me?” he asks. For such a big man, his voice is suddenly so small.

“Lee, I can’t-I haven’t…” you struggle to find the words.

“It’s alright, that’s alright,” he assures you, circling your wrist with his fingers still sticky from your arousal, and guiding them to the bulge in his trousers. You flinch, but don’t pull away, your arm tenses, but goes with the motion. He presses your palm against the solid length, pushing down to give him some relief. His hips press against you in return and once he’s sure you aren't going anywhere, he lets go of your wrist, then starts to undo the belt and button in quick movements. He tugs the waistband of his trousers and boxers down together, just to release his cock.

You feel the fabric move under your palm, but keep pressing against him, your hand sliding just slightly out of remembered instinct. When the fabric of his boxers slides away and you’re met with the heat of his cock, you gasp. Your hand wraps around him, fingers circling around his shaft to hold him and pulling a strangled moan from him.

“Shit-fuck,” he hisses. “Won’t be long.” He wraps his hand over yours, pulling your fist up and down over him while he pumps his hips into it. Precome drips down from the slit, easing the glide.

His eyes close and he presses his temple to yours, his face pulls up in concentration, focusing on the pleasure, “You’re so soft, so sweet,” he rasps, “Want you so bad, want you all to myself.”

You can imagine it, if you’re ready to be totally honest, you have imagined it.

“Kiss me?” you whisper.

His lips meet yours roughly for a long press, then he tilts his head and licks at the seam of your lips, making you open up to him. His hand and yours start to speed up, he keeps guiding you up and down, just the slightest twist at the head with each stroke.

The kiss turns sloppy, more sharing air and pecks than anything as he spirals with the pleasure you’re helping to give him.

“You’re gonna -you’re gonna make me-” with a pained expression, he nudges you away, his hand stroking frantically as he leans over your sink until he starts to come, streaks hitting the porcelain as he chokes down groans. You watch his neck and face go red, trying not to watch, but you can’t help yourself and catch the way his cock twitches with his release, all swollen and red. You don’t think you could possibly blush more, but still fire burns underneath your skin.

When he finishes coming, he reaches for you again, pulling you into another hard kiss. “God, darlin’. Fuck,” he whispers while he attempts to catch his breath. “Fuck. Haven’t been tugged off like that since I was a deputy.” He chuckles, the laugh coming out in hard puffs of air.

You struggle to look at anything in the bathroom, eyes straying back to Lee, to his softening cock, to the come dripping slowly in the sink basin. Just then you hear the boys start to giggle and reality hits you again, making your chest seize up in panic.

“Oh, Lee. No,” you raise a hand to your mouth and quickly rush out the door, piecing your wardrobe back together as you walk back into the kitchen. You hear the water run in the bathroom and murmuring as Lee talks to himself.

Your movement must have distracted the boys because they manage to sound like a stampede heading toward you. You wipe at your nose and eyes as best you can before you turn to see what they want.

Both the boys pause, but it’s your son that speaks up, knowing how you look when you cry. “Momma, you alright?”

Lee exits the bathroom then, shirt tucked back in, belt and trousers back in place - only the flush from the neck up giving anything away. His eyes bore into you with heavy emotion that you are ashamed that you can read so well - concern, sympathy, desire. A mixture that you remind yourself you don’t deserve.

“Yeah, baby. I am. You know I get sad sometimes, I’ll be fine. Are you boys ready to say goodbye for tonight? I think it’s well past your bedtime.”

You grab Steven and fuss with his hair, with his messy shirt, and then turn him around and hold him against you like a tiny human shield. “Say thank you to the sheriff for fixing the projector and for letting Robert play.”

“Thank you, sir,” your son dutifully responds.

Lee can see what you’re doing and he’s not happy with it, his mouth going flat and shoulders heaving as you pressure him into leaving.

He just nods, then nudges at Robert’s shoulder, “Say thank you for indulging us.”

“Thank you,” Robert quietly says.

You send Steven down the hallway to get ready for bed, and then you follow behind as they step toward the door, Robert too tired from a full day of play to put up a fight. Lee opens the door to the back steps, telling Robert to be careful going down. When the boy starts down a few, Lee turns back to you.

Before you can react, he’s giving you another kiss, quick but meaningful. “We’re not done,” he whispers.

“We are. Go home, Lee.”

He gives you a long look before stomping down the steps. “Til next time, Sweets.”

...

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker angst #lee bodecker fanfiction #hoedecker club #hoedecker cult #tdatt fanfiction #my writing #fic title so wrong #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x female reader

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givemethatgold · 3 years

Text

Fix’er Upper - Part Twelve

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of drug use, fluff, smidge of angst? Length: 1.7k Notes: Managed to whip up this bad boy during a quiet moment today and should probably make y’all wait for it but I don’t really do posting schedules (as you’ve noticed) so enjoy. Not beta’d, not proof read, I’ll die on this messy hill.

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, life didn't change too much after that night. Frankie continued to run his acreage and oversee the making of this year's cider. With some encouragement and support from you, he was starting to expand the business and already had a few pubs in the closest city clamouring to have his product on tap.

Meanwhile, the improvements on the house were nearing an end, for the indoors list anyways. The first thing Frankie had helped you do was to install your new soaker tub, immediately followed by christening it by making soft, slow love to you inside of it.

There hadn't even been any water, your impatience to be close to each other wouldn't allow for that. You had just stripped out of your coveralls, convenient work-wear for people who fucked like rabbits you had to admit, and sat in his lap with your arms and legs wrapped around him. His hands guiding your hips in a slow rocking motion, breathing each other's air as your open mouths hovered in a not-quite kiss, only breaking eye contact when you threw your head back as you came.

Autumn passed quickly and Winter had gripped Vermont, cloaking the countryside in a heavy blanket of white. Christmas was a cozy affair, you and Frankie had been asked to join Jacquie and Mark in their family's merriment. It had stirred something inside of you, watching a functional family laugh, sing, argue, eat, and love with such abandon.

It was everything you'd dreamt, initially, for your future with Brad. Now? Now you were starting to picture that future with Frankie's face as the patriarch, you just haven't built up the nerve to broach the subject yet.

You'd started working at the bakery, enjoying the early mornings surrounded by rising dough and sculling back coffees with the adorable older ladies who ran the place. You'd also begun doing the books for Morales Acres and Catfish Brewery. Frankie was a veritable genius but he claimed he had no patience for keeping receipts and tracking numbers.

You had a sneaking suspicion he was playing dumb in an effort to give you more time together but you really didn't mind. Your break-of-dawn mornings at the bakery had you tired, but after a full day of renovating or bookkeeping, you were downright exhausted and ready for bed by eight pm. This, mixed with Frankie monitoring the brewing, bottling, and distribution of his cider and networking at bars and pubs throughout the state meant the two of you rarely saw each other.

All of your hard work in your own house had made you a popular friend to call when someone needed decorating advice, or a helping hand once they realized they couldn't tile their kitchen backsplash solo. You never charged for your time, although payment had initially been offered until work had got around that you preferred a good meal and conversation over money. I mean, sure, you could use the cash but it just didn't seem right. And you loved helping people and making deeper connections with the town you now truly felt you belonged in.

Tuesday evenings had become an unofficial date night for the two of you. The bakery was closed on Wednesdays and bar owners tended to be less interested in business halfway through the week, something to do with the rush of the previous weekend having worn off and the worry of setting up for another one starting to grow.

This meant you could stay up late, enjoy a proper homemade dinner, maybe even watch a movie or share a bottle of wine while soaking in your big ass tub. It usually ended as a sleepover, your house being the preferred location; Frankie's loft was perfectly fine but it did lack a certain homey appeal.

This pattern, this life, that you'd created for yourself was making you happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You weren't one hundred percent content, not yet anyway, but the path to getting there was on a direct trajectory. You still wanted to finish your college degree, maybe switch it over to horticulture. Building a greenhouse and selling flowers was still a pipe dream but something your heart truly longed for, something that Frankie was constantly encouraging you to do.

"Look, hun," he had called out to you a few weeks ago while supposedly researching the new line of bottles. "There's an auction next county over and they have all this confiscated stuff from a grow op that got busted!"

"What?" You'd made a face and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth would you use from a pot farm?"

He just gave you a salacious wink as an answer.

Frankie had been open about his past drug abuse and while some recovering addicts may want all mention of it banned from a conversation, Frankie found levity in treating the topic like any other person would.

It had taken you a couple of hours to realize why he'd brought up the auction. It had hit you with a jolt, knowing that he’d remembered your rambling from on top of the Ferris wheel. You didn't realize he'd been listening when you'd told him about your idea of taking over the flower stand at the market once the current couple retired.

Your heart had swelled and there was a concerted effort to prevent the sudden onset of tears from running down your face. God, you loved this man, maybe one of these days you should tell him...

This particular routine was working well for the two of you. It gave each of you your own space to relax, destress, enjoy the shitty tv shows you were too embarrassed to watch in front of another living person. It also forced the two of you to take your relationship slowly, communication being a constant learning curve. You were both really good and telling each other when you needed time alone, when you were feeling stressed or sad. You each had learned the tells for when the other was angry or just hungry, if it was hormones or if there was something that was actually pissing you off.

The thing you each seemed to struggle with was expressing the softer side of the relationship. Neither of you appeared to have the Words of Affirmation love language skill, yet you both craved to hear it. You showed how much you cared for Frankie with your acts of service; helping him with the boring side of the business, baking, deep cleaning the loft, even scrubbing out the massive fermenter in the Catfish Cider warehouse.

Frankie, on the other hand, showed his love through physical touch. At first, you had assumed it was a staking-his-claim kind of thing but then you noticed how he'd do it all the time. A hand on your lower back while walking, caressing your hand with his thumb when driving in the truck, carding his fingers through your hair while you watched tv.

This week's date night found you at his place, relaxing in the loft after a busy workday. You were making dinner while he 'helped' by sneaking bites of the prepped ingredients, arm slung around you with a hand in your back pocket.

"What're you looking for?" He asked, taking advantage of your distracted searching through his cupboards to sneak a few more pinches of grated cheese.

"A can opener!" You replied, exasperation raising your voice an octave. "I could have sworn I saw a white one around here somewhere..."

“No, pretty sure that one's yours. I don't think I have one?"

"Frankie," you deadpanned "how did you survive as a bachelor without canned food?"

"I ate a lot of take-out?" He looked indignant at your laughter, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you stop judging me long enough to eat some burritos?"

Smoothing his playful scowl with a kiss, you sat down at the counter and enjoyed your first meal together of the week.

An idea was formulating in the back of your mind, though, and you barely tasted anything. As the evening progressed, the idea grew and you were liking it more and more. The final straw was you not having a toothbrush in his bathroom anymore, having forgotten that it had fallen off the counter and into the trashcan the last time you'd spent the night.

Using his, with a strange mixture of distaste and nonchalance, before making your way over to the bed, you began to plan how the conversation could go:

Hey Frankie, so you know how I have a big house all to myself? Yeah... And it had everything we need in it? Yeah... And there's more than enough room for two adults to store all of their things? Yeah... And I wouldn't have to use your toothbrush ever again? Yea- wait what? I think you should move in with me.

It wasn't very romantic but it was the most likely, considering your dynamic. Just as you were crawling into bed and snuggling under the arm he'd raised to allow you to get closer, his cell phone rang.

"Hello? - This is he. - Yeah, biological. - Oh god, when?"

The immediate change in his tone from questioning to horrified caught your attention, sitting up to face him you grabbed his free hand, silently letting him know you were there for support.

His eyes were out of focus and a panicked expression was slowly morphing his face as the conversation went on, but he gave your hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement.

"Yes, in Vermont. Do you have my address? - Okay, good, good...okay - When? - I'll have something ready. Umm... does she... does she remember me? - Oh. Okay, thank you."

Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, Frankie sat staring into nothingness for what felt like hours. His side of the conversation and the way he was reacting had you rattled. You could guess as to what was happening but weren't sure if now was the right time to pry.

"Babe? Is, is everything okay?"

Silence.

Gripping his hand tighter and rubbing his back you sat with him for a few more minutes before trying again. You didn’t want to push him but your heart was constricting in your chest from nervousness and concern for him.

"Can I get you anything? What do you need?"

His hand was now completely dead in yours; eventually, he turned his head towards you, eyes never fully focusing, and shook his head.

"I- she- fuck... I think you should go.”

Part Thirteen

#Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Francisco Morales x F!Reader #Francisco Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales x you

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nationalharryleague · 3 years

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Ivy: Chapter One - Incandescent Glow

A/N: Chapter One is here!! I’m so excited to share this with you all and I hope you enjoy it!! You can find the rest of my writing in my masterlist and I would love love love to hear what you think about it in my ask! Thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoy it!!

Word Count: 6.5k

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Before their paths had crossed, she had resigned herself to an existence void of the excitement, passion, and the simple enjoyment of a life in love that she consumed every day in her books. Their worn and yellowed pages held stories of adventure, mystery, and her personal favorite, romance, etched onto pages that held the ability to transport the novel’s reader. She turned to their worn leather binding as a way to escape her own dismal and boring life, living vicariously through star crossed lovers, double agent spies, and explorers who had set out to find the fountain of youth.

The tall tales were never enough to fill the void or tame her desire to escape, but they placed a temporary bandage on the wound she would rather keep covered.

She spent most of her time among her books, curled into the small pink velvet couch that sat next to the large fireplace, immersing herself into the words on the page and the silence that surrounded her, as she reveled in the warmth of the open flame. The library was the one place in the large estate that felt like a home to her. Books lined the walls, placed carefully into floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Most of them had been read through already, patiently awaiting their turn to be picked up once again for her to experience another journey through their pages.

She chased a homey solace within those four walls, a comfortability she could never obtain anywhere else on her husband’s large estate. The mansion was a massive stone fortress that sat on acres of land she had never been granted permission to fully explore. The greatest freedom allowed to her were the well mannered and dignified walks she took around the garden, sometimes a trip to the small stream that ran across the edge of the property with a book tucked into her basket; but as winter fell, as it always did, she was forced back into her library.

Snow fell gently outside, covering the large and manicured lawns with a bright white blanket of quiet, but her concentration and tranquility were startled away from her when three too loud knocks fell onto the large mahogany door. She knew the knocks well, and exactly who they belonged to. They were the only ones that ever seemed to disturb her.

“Dear,” she heard her husband, William, call through the door. “May I come in?” He was boring and overbearing, but he was always polite when it came to her library. She could give him that.

“Of course,” she hummed in a slight annoyance, hearing the door swing open with a creak, as she tucked her bookmark into Gulliver’s Travels’ well loved pages. It was hard for her to tear her eyes from the book, not yet fully out of the story land she had been consumed by for hours now, but when she did, she was met with two men instead of one.

“I wanted to introduce you to the new groundskeeper, Mr. Styles.” William spoke far too loud for her quiet room and in his usual dull tone, which was somehow made even more boring by the beautiful man standing next to him.

Mr. Styles was striking.

He had chocolate brown curls that fell in tousled waves pushed back from his forehead and vibrant green eyes that zeroed in on her with an intense but friendly gaze. A polite smile graced his pink lips which caused a pair of dimples to ghost over his cheeks, softening his rather imposing large figure.

He was tall and had broad shoulders and muscular arms that didn’t completely fit into his vest and suit jacket, and she could tell he was uncomfortable in such formal dress. He stood perfectly straight up and down, like any sudden movements might bust him out of the most likely hand me down outfit, and his slightly awkward appearance made it difficult for her to fight off a more than friendly smile.

She moved towards him, the pink roses embroidered on the delicate white fabric of her dress falling down around her as she stood from the couch, and with a greeting knod of her head, she extended her hand towards him to delicately shake. His hands were frozen as he took her hand and bowed his head to her, a side effect of the snow blanketing the ground outside, but they were also strong and calloused.

Their contact shot a spark up her arm, assuredly from the cold of his fingertips.

“It’s delightful to meet you, Mr. Styles,” she spoke with a soft but confident voice, bowing her own head towards him gently as he released her hand.

“Thank you for having me, Lady Taylor,” he spoke smoothly, with a deep and musical voice, his sharp jaw brushing against the starched high fabric of his collar. She liked the way he spoke and made a note to make sure she heard more of it in the future.

She hoped she had controlled her face and didn’t outwardly cringe when he called her by her formal title and her husband’s last name. It was an identifier she deeply loathed, representative of all she had become. She looked forward to whenever they got a moment away from her husband and she could ask him to call her Y/N, similar to moments she had in the past with all of the staff in the mansion.

“Of course,” she smiled. “We’re glad to have you.”

“He’ll be staying in the cottage on the east side of the property,” William informed her, bringing her attention back to him.

“That is the one near the stream with the ivy on it, if I’m not mistaken. Correct?” she directed her question towards her husband, toeing the line of an appropriate amount of small talk, while also encouraging the conversation to move fast so she could return to her book.

“That’s the one,” the dull man answered with a nod. “I’m going to show him to it now. I wanted to introduce him because you might be seeing him around the estate.” He paused, stepping closer to her and she felt her muscles tense slightly. “We wouldn’t want you getting startled by a stranger, now would we, darling?”

“No, we wouldn’t,” she answered with a tight lipped smile. She could never get used to his patronizing tone, even after three years as his wife. With a deep breath, she steeled herself as he got even closer, reaching his hand out and pushing a curl that had fallen from her gathered bun at the base of her neck behind her ear, then pressing a kiss to her cheek that lasted far too long to be in front of a guest. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment and she watched as Mr. Styles’ gained an uncomfortable blush to his as well.

With a patch of dampness still clinging to her cheek, William backed away and returned to their new guest’s side.

“It was lovely to meet you,” the new man said, a seemingly sympathetic look in his eye. “Your library is beautiful.”

His complement of her books brought a hint of joy back to her features. “Thank you very much. If you ever need anything to read, I may have something you could borrow,” she chuckled, raising her hand to gesture towards the rows and rows of books. “I can only read so many at a time.”

“I will keep that in mind,” he said, his lips perking up in a sideways smile that showed off one of his dimples.

William left the room without anything else to say, Mr. Styles following soon after, but for some reason she could not shake the sound of his voice and the look of his dimple from her mind. Even when she settled back down next to the fire, knees tucked up beneath her and Gulliver’s Travels back in her hands, his face remained. She found herself rereading sentences two or three times before comprehending them, her focus lost to the handsome man who was now living in the small ivy covered cottage. She was intrigued.

A few days passed before she saw him again.

Once again, he had roused her from a book while she read, making an awful scraping noise as he tried to remove the ice hanging from the outdoor windowsill of her library. He must have been watching her through the window because when her head shot up to investigate the noise, he already held an apologetic look in his eyes and mouthed ‘I’m sorry!’ to her through the window. He looked quite cute like that and she couldn’t help but release a laugh.

She decided to abandon the epic love story she had been consuming, choosing to focus on another object of interest as she moved towards the large window and opened it. A frigid wind seemed to slap her in the face, making her realize just how red his nose was. She could only guess how cold he was and how long he had been scraping ice off the house in only a flimsy wool coat.

“I am so sorry I disturbed you, Lady Taylor,” he profusely apologized, but she only smiled in return.

“No trouble at all,” she shook her head. “And please call me Y/N. I’m only Lady Taylor in front of my husband.”

His face held a slight surprise, obviously unfamiliar with such a casual relationship with his bosses. “Oh, alright then, Y/N.” He held a shy grin on his face as he looked up at her through the window, extending a hand for her to shake. “Well then, call me Harry.”

Harry, she repeated to herself. It suited him. She liked his name and the way his strong jaw and pink lips moved when he said it.

Their hands met in a less formal handshake this time, her body hanging halfway out the window into the cold to reach him. The same shocks made their way up her arm again and she blamed them on his frozen hand.

“Harry,” she started, liking the way his name felt on her lips. “You seem like you are about to freeze to death out there. Why don’t you come in for a cup of tea?”

She knew her husband wouldn’t be home for at least another hour, a result of meticulously monitoring his schedule for the last three years in an effort to appreciate her limited freedom to its fullest. William was a creature of habit, spending every Wednesday across the county with his younger brother in his own massive home; allowing her time to relax, no longer held to the absurdly formal high standards her husband held for ‘the lady of the house.’ And today, she decided she could exercise that freedom by inviting Harry in for tea.

“I couldn’t,” he tried to politely deny, bound by strict rules of etiquette in ‘high society,’ whatever that meant.

“I insist. You look frost bitten.”

When he nodded his head in concession, she couldn’t help the bright and triumphant smile that stretched across her features.

It wasn’t long before she was leading him through the massive home towards the servants quarters and her favorite part of the mansion: the kitchen. As they walked, they moved under ornate arches and impressively high ceilings, passing walls decorated with portraits of her husband’s dead relatives that seemed to judge the two commoners as they passed. She assumed her husband hadn’t given Harry a tour of the main house, as every time she snuck a peak at him, his eyes were wide in amazement at the lavish home.

The deep maroon satin fabric of her dress flowed behind her as she led him down winding hallways and past massive grand staircases. The grandiose decorations and atmosphere began to dwindle as they made their way to the servants quarters, the house taking on a much more bare-bones look. The hallways were smaller and left a pale white, a stark contrast to the brightly colored walls that lived in the rest of the house.

He followed her down a small spiral staircase that opened into a kitchen that emitted a welcoming warmth the rest of the sterile house lacked. A large stone fireplace was set into the wall to their right and copper pots and pans hung from the walls. A large cabinet held stacks and stacks of dishes of every sort and a perpetually bubbling pot of water hung over the open flame. But the centerpiece of the room was the long wooden table that was covered in flour and surrounded by smiley women kneading balls of dough.

“Hello sweetheart!” chimed one of the women from the table, her older round face framed by grey hair holding onto flushed cheeks and a wide smile. Her grin seemed to calm an anxiety that was perpetually inside her. “How are you doing today?”

“I’m doing very well. Thank you, Mary,” she smiled back at her. “How are you?”

“She’s been talking our ears off all day, Y/N,” the youngest girl, Grace, piped up from across the table, her long black hair pulled from her face in a ponytail that reached her bum. She couldn’t have been older than 16. “Thank goodness you came down here to distract her for a moment.”

“Oh hush, Grace,” Mary playfully scolded her before turning her attention back to Y/N. “My boy had the highest marks in his class this week. Isn’t that just incredible?”

“That’s fantastic!” she exclaimed, knowing how hard the boy had been working on his studies as of late from how highly his mother always spoke of him.

“It’s all because you let him borrow your books,” the older woman said in a softer and more sincere tone. “He reads them so fast now and his instructors are so impressed.”

“I am always happy to lend them to Robert. He’s such a good boy. I always miss him in the winter when it is too cold for him to come to the grounds to play.”

“Spring will be here soon enough,” the last woman at the table, Siobhan, spoke up in a thick Irish accent. Her fiery red curls were pinned up on top of her head and flour was smudged onto her freckled nose.

“The almanac predicts that we should have an early spring this year,” Y/N heard Harry’s deep voice cut into their conversation behind her. She watched as all the eyes belonging to the women at the table went wide in his direction like they hadn’t noticed him prior.

“Ladies, this is Harry Styles,” she introduced him, turning back to face him just long enough to take in his shy and somewhat awkward wave to the women. “He’s the new groundskeeper.”

“What happened to John?” Grace asked in a slight whine, her face falling in disappointment at the news.

“She had a crush on John,” Siobhan cut in quickly to give Harry context. And while Grace denied her infatuation with a defiant ‘did not,’ her cheeks betrayed her as they turned a beet red.

“William said he got married or something of the sort,” Y/N lied, knowing William had fired him during a particular mood swing. While she held a deep distaste towards her husband, she was afraid to hint at that to the women in the event they didn’t follow his explicit orders due to their second hand dislike of him. She would never forgive herself if they happened to lose their jobs because of her.

These women were her only friends and she cherished them.

“Good for him,” Mary said before quickly turning her attention back to the curly man in the corner, staring at him intensely, as if she could see all his deepest secrets if she just looked hard enough. “It’s good to meet you, Harry,” she finally spoke, voice holding a motherly suspicion. “How did you become a groundskeeper?”

He seemed shocked that anyone would ask him a question at all, stammering slightly as he answered. “I always enjoyed being outside when I was a child, and as I got older, I found that I had quite the green thumb,” he spoke shyly, pulling his hand from behind his back to flash the ladies a thumbs-up. “I started working on estates a few years ago and I send whatever I can back to my mum and sister in Cheshire.”

At the mention of his mother and sister, Mary’s face softened. All in the room could tell that she had deemed him trustworthy and respectable, pushing away her worst nightmares of him having bad intentions on the estate she ran inside and out.

“What a good boy,” she spoke jovially, like if she was closer to him she could have pinched his blushed and dimpled cheeks.

“Well,” Y/N began in an attempt to change the subject, “Harry has been out in the cold for who knows how long so I’m going to fix us up a cup of tea.”

“Y/N, that is what we are here for,” Siobhan said, letting out a chuckle.

“Oh no,” she waved her off, making her way towards the cabinet and retrieving a sachet of her favorite tea and a teapot. “You’re all busy and I am very capable of making my own.”

She felt Harry’s eyes on her, surely confused about the relationship she had with her staff, as she skillfully navigated around the kitchen. She knew she looked out of place wearing her formal dress, a jeweled belt even wrapped around the empire waistline, as she moved about with the women in aprons covered in flour. But she felt comfortable here, like she was experiencing a loving hug from an old and less stressful life she once lived.

Soon she was holding a silver tray with an ornately decorated tea set delicately placed upon it, Harry trailing behind her while she carried it back to her library without spilling a drop. He continued to watch her with an inquisitive eye as she expertly crafted teas for both of them, although she knew his chill had long left his bones, before she settled onto her pink couch, Harry sitting in a matching armchair across from her.

“The way you are looking at me makes me think I owe you an explanation,” she smirked over her tea cup as she brought it to her lips.

“Ma’am,” he began, but corrected himself to “Y/N,” after she shot him a playful yet disapproving look. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Fine then. I’m just going to talk to myself and if you happen to hear details about my life that might help you understand me and this house a bit more, then so be it.” She spoke calmly, with a regality that she had spent years perfecting.

Harry’s lips perked up with a closed lipped smile that seemed to say ‘you got me’ and an attentive gaze, signalling her to go on.

“I think it is probably quite obvious at this point that I did not grow up in wealth like this,” she started, ready to explain herself to the man across from her for some reason she couldn’t pinpoint. “I’m friendly with the staff because I was one for most of my life. I was a servant girl growing up, very much like Grace. My family did not have much other than too many children and I left home to start work in estates like this one when I was 11.”

He watched quietly from his seat, not giving her much of a reaction at all.

“I met William when I was 17, when I started working for his aunt in her home. He tried to propose, for the first time, after I knew him for three weeks, but his mother said no because I wasn't born into the nobility. And honestly, I was relieved because I did not like him one bit.”

Harry let out a small chuckle at her words that quickly and involuntarily brought a grin to her face.

“His mother died two years later and he proposed again, no longer needing her blessing as he then became the head of their family. He offered me the world if I were to accept. He told me that we would travel and see the sights and that he would support my dream of becoming a writer. But most of all, he promised to take care of my family financially.” She took a long sip of her tea and swallowed hard before finishing the most painful part of her story. “So I accepted, but he never followed through on any of his promises.”

“William isn’t a bad man,” she continued, “although he isn’t a particularly good one either. He likes control of his house and his wife. It is I that made a naive promise to him and I have spent every day of the last three years paying for it.”

She watched as Harry’s exterior softened slowly as she spoke with radical honesty, looking like he wasn’t sure what to say that could comfort her. While she retold the story in a calm, cool, and collected manner, she hoped she was able to fully conceal her true hurt that attempted to fight it’s way to her face.

“Well,” she said with a cheerful new tone to her voice, brushing off her somber and self-pitying mood, “now that I have spoken about myself and you may have heard some of it, would you like some more tea?”

He raised his eyebrows inquisitively at her sudden change in tone, but decided not to push it any further. “I would,” he nodded. She felt his eyes on her as she stood up and made her way back to the tea pot, wishing she could read his mind. When she returned, she poured his tea carefully and went to set the pot back down, but she was stopped when his hand grasped onto hers.

His skin was now warm, hot even, from his tea cup; but the same shocks still remained when he touched her. She couldn’t help but notice how well her hand fit in his. Her eyes first found where he held her, both of his hands cradling one of her’s gently, then they flickered to his face. Emerald green eyes bored into her own, that surely held an element of shock in them at their contact. His face was soft and sympathetic as he looked up at her from his seat. “Y/N,” he sighed, goosebumps forming over her arms as she felt his warm breath float over her skin. “I’m sorry.”

Before she could answer, she heard the familiar roll of the wheels of her husband’s carriage begin to crunch on the gravel outside the window. Her eyes shot towards the sound coming from the circular driveway and she regretfully peeled her hand away from his own, immediately missing his warmth.

“You have to go,” she instructed softly. “Head out the door to your left, make a right at the end of the hallway, and then head down the second staircase. There’s a door that leads out to the back garden on the left.” Her directions were detailed and concise, like she had used the escape route herself many times.

Harry quickly scurried out of the chair and towards the door she was now holding open for him, but before he made his departure he turned back to look at her one more time. “Thank you for the tea, Y/N,” he said, previous panic traded for sincerity on his face.

“You’re welcome, Harry. I quite enjoy your company,” she confessed. “We will have to do this again.”

He smiled softly before turning on the ball of his foot and taking off down the hallway. As he rounded the corner and disappeared, she heard the front door open and William’s lumbering footsteps clomp onto the shiny marble tile of the foyer. Her eyes flickered back towards the two tea cups that sat on the small table in the library, knowing if William came to find her, he would inquire about who she had tea with. Gritting her teeth and letting out a sigh, she made her way to the front door to greet him. But not before she closed the library door tight behind her and made a mental note to ask Mary to retrieve the cups.

“Hello my dearest,” she breathed through her perfectly rehearsed smile. “How was your visit with Gregory today?”

“Fine,” he dismissed, leaning in to kiss her cheek and scratching her skin with the stubbly mustache he was desperately trying to grow for some reason. “What’s for dinner?”

“I can go ask Mrs. Jefferson if you would like,” she offered, always feeling odd when she referred to Mary by her last name. He didn’t answer her with words, just a negative grunt that she assumed was denying her attempt at escape.

“Is that a new corset?” he asked abruptly and she watched in disgusted horror as his eyes settled in on her chest. She knew that she was just a warm body to him most of the time, but his grotesque excuses for manners always shocked her.

She pressed her lips together into a hard line, holding back every awful thing she could think of that she wanted to spit in her husband’s direction. Instead, she just sighed and gave him a kurt “yes.”

“Alright,” he grumbled. “They looked bigger. I thought you might finally be pregnant.”

Just the thought of being pregnant with William’s child made her want to refund her lunch onto his riding boots. She could only imagine what a child consisting half of him would look like. She hoped it wouldn’t inherit his bulbous nose, or his beady eyes, or his sparse black hair that seemed to be perpetually greasy.

She prayed every day that the rank smelling tea Mary gave her to drink every morning was enough to stave off a pregnancy forever. It came from a healer woman a few counties over, that some insisted was a witch, but the tea had kept her from falling pregnant so far and she had no plans of stopping her morning routine anytime soon. She didn’t care if the woman was Satan himself, as long as she never began to swell with whatever creature William routinely attempted to put inside her.

“No.” She tried to sound regretful. “I started my cycle this morning.”

“Too bad,” he said, eyes still staring down the front of her dress. “We will just have to keep trying.”

He eventually stopped oggoling her, starting down the hallway and leaving her in the foyer without another word. She let out the sigh of relief that she always did when he left her, releasing the tightly wound ball of stress inside of her that tightened whenever he was near, but she felt it return to her when she sat down at the long dining room table for dinner later that day.

She sipped her wine carefully, watching her husband scarf down his meal at the other head of the table, thankful for the long wooden surface that kept her far from him. But for the first time in forever, her husband and his revolting habits were not at the forefront of her mind.

Her thoughts were occupied almost exclusively by Harry. Surely it was because he was new, like when a little girl receives a new doll and it becomes the center of her universe until the novelty wears off. She also realized she knew almost nothing about him, cursing herself for overrunning their conversation with her own story before they were rudely interrupted. But the small fragments she did know about him, like his love of nature, the care he took for his mother and sister, and his general kindness and care for those around him, had begun to take root in her brain and she just couldn’t shake him.

“What are you thinking about?” William seemed to shout across the table, pulling her from her dreamland.

“I was trying to decide what china pattern we should use for this year’s spring gala,” she lied seamlessly.

“There will be no spring gala this year,” he said with a mouth full of food. “I’ll be in France on business.”

The spring gala was the highlight of her dismal life and she couldn’t help but feel like she had just been punched in the gut by the news. It was a celebration on the spring solstice that the Taylor family had been holding for the last century and was the most lavish and exciting event of the year. There was endless food and drink among lively music and beautiful opulent gowns, but most of all, there were people. This party was a priceless connection to the outside world and to have it ripped away like this was heartbreaking.

“But I’ve already had a dress made,” she weakly argued, picturing the light blue satin ball gown overlaid with a delicate white floral lace.

“You can wear it next year. I have to go to France for six weeks.”

“What is in France that is so important?”

William let out a frustrated huff and looked up from his plate for the first time to shoot her a threatening glare. He was not used to this sort of push back from the usually docile woman, even if her passivity was a meticulously rehearsed act. “A lady should not concern herself with her husband’s business.”

Knowing not to push the conversation, she kept her mouth shut but shot him angry daggers for the duration of the meal. She barely touched her food, but she continued to drain and refill her wine glass.

He pushed himself away from the table after his plate was all but licked clean, looking over at her crossed arms and slumped drunk body in the chair at the other end of the room. “I know you enjoy the gala,” he spoke as gentle as his brooding voice could. “But we will not be discussing this manner any further.”

“Fine,” she said curtly. When he turned to leave the room, she childishly stuck her purple tongue out behind him. She listened to the small bursts of air Grace released next to her, stifling laughter. She grinned lazily at the young girl clearing his plate. “What a pompous knob,” she muttered as she pushed herself away from the table and exited the grand dining room through the opposite exit William had taken. She heard Siobhan’s delicate footsteps following behind as she marched towards her bedroom, the thoughtful woman knowing she wouldn’t be able to undo her tightly laced corset with her currently clumsy fingers.

Siobhan held her hand and securely guided her up one of the many massive staircases that inhabited the mansion, saving her when she tripped on the fabric of her dress. Y/N was thankful for her support, but couldn’t stop thinking about how her contact with Harry felt earlier in the day felt so different. She had originally attributed the electric feeling to the cold, and then considered it a result of not being touched by another person in so long. But Siobhan’s hand did not hold the same sparks.

She stood facing the mirror in her bedroom and stared at herself as Siobhan carefully removed the layers upon layers of her clothing. Her fingers skillfully released the corset from her body and Y/N took in what felt like the first real breath she had taken all day, leaving her in the bright white shift dress that was the first layer she put on every morning.

“Siobhan,” she spoke softly as if she didn’t want to disturb the silence, “do you believe in true love?”

She was quiet for a moment before she answered. “I think I do.”

“Do you think everyone gets to have it?”

“I think everyone has chances, but not everyone actually gets it.”

“Do you think a life with William is a life worth living?”

Y/N’s own question startled herself, her lips letting the words materialize and fall from them without her consent. Her eyes fell towards the floor, unwilling to make eye contact with the other woman in the mirror after the jarring question.

“Y/N, you have had a tad too much wine tonight to be asking big questions like that.”

“I know.” Her voice was just above a whisper and laced with shame. “Will you get me my nightgown? I want to go down to the library and read before bed.” Siobhan nodded behind her, slipping the lilac fabric and wrapping a cream colored night robe around her, before helping her back down the stairs and into her library.

She ripped a dark red leather bound book off the shelf, not particularly caring what it was called or what it was about, plopping herself down on the ground next to the warm fireplace. She just needed to be somewhere else, transported far away from the nightmare that had become her life.

It took three pages before tears began to prick at the back of her eyes. This book wasn’t a tale of pirates, or war, or mythology; it was a romance, one she had read before. It told of a soldier returning home from war to rescue his one true love from a domineering stepmother, sweeping her off her feet and escaping to start a new life together. She remembered that they lived happily ever after at the end.

She couldn’t help the jealousy and sadness that boiled within her, mourning for a love and a life she would never get to have. She would be trapped within the giant fortress that had been designed to keep enemies out, but had ended up keeping her shut inside with her own nemesis. She grieved for a life she would never be able to experience.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted her wallowing. She didn’t recognize it. Mary knocked loudly, but only once, and William always knocked three times, with Grace and Siobhan usually knocking softly twice.

She unwillingly dragged her still wobbly limbs off the ground and made her way towards the door. When she opened it, she was met with the bright green eyes that had been stuck in her head all day.

“Harry,” she greeted with a weak smile, trying her best to wipe all her tears off of her hot and angry cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping to borrow a book from your collection, but I can come back later,” he said hurriedly, eyebrows knitting together as he took in her tears.

“No, come in,” she said, sniffling and stepping aside so he could enter.

“Y/N,” he said with concern in his voice, his gaze narrowing in on her like the books no longer existed, abandoning his original goal of the visit. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, not sure if she was telling the truth or not. She held her robe close to her body, trying to hide herself from embarrassment, refusing to make eye contact with him and directing her attention towards the walls. “Uh-,” she stumbled over her words, “what kind of book were you looking for?”

He got the hint to stop his line of questioning about her emotional state, turning his body to face the walls as well. “I was going to ask you for recommendations.”

Her heart swelled with his words. No one had asked her about her opinions on anything other than drapes or china patterns in years. In this house, she was meant to be a proper lady, and proper ladies weren’t allowed to have brains with real thoughts or opinions.

“I have a few,” she cleared her throat. “I keep my favorites on this shelf,” she said, directing him to follow her. The shelf was at eye level for her and when she went to stand in front of it, she felt Harry hovering over her shoulder, his warm breath falling over the skin on the back of her neck. He was too close, far too close for ‘proper society,’ and too close for a married woman to be to a single man. But she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to move back because all she wanted in the world was for him to move even closer.

“These are adventure stories,” she stammered and pointed to a few, thrown off by his proximity, “and these are mysteries.” He hummed in her ear as she spoke. “And these,” she spoke softly and pointing towards the largest section of books, “are romance.”

She stepped aside so he could examine the spines of the novels, watching closely as he recited their names under his breath, perfect pink lips moving smoothly as he spoke quietly. She couldn’t take her eyes off of them. She jumped when he moved to grab a book off the shelf, breaking the trance she had fallen into as she took in his incandescent glow.

“I think I’ll take this one,” he said just above a whisper when he turned back to face her, his face hovering only inches above hers. Their faces were so close, one move and their lips would connect, indulging herself in her wildest fantasies since she had met this man only days ago. He brought the book up beside their faces and she quickly stole a glance.

Pride and Prejudice, was embossed in gold on the dark purple cover. It was new, but had quickly become her favorite romance of all time.

Her eyes connected with his once again, taking in the mischievous glint they held and the boyish smirk that had found its way onto his lips. His smile was contagious, her previous angry tears swapped for a small grin of her own. “Who doesn’t love a romance?” he asked her, smirk turning into a dimpled grin.

She wanted to reach out and grab him by the lapels of his jacket when he stepped back from her and pull his face to meet her own. She wanted to tell him not to go, to lock the door, and take her on the couch. She wanted to ask him to take her far away from this fortress and never return again. But she didn’t. She just let him walk to the door, a new book tucked under his arm.

“Before I go,” he said abruptly, turning around once again to face her. “I have a question.”

“I have an answer,” she quipped, earning a laugh from the man that sounded like the most beautiful symphony she could have ever imagined.

“There’s ivy crawling up the house on the east wall. Would you like me to take it down?”

His words reminded her that he wasn’t some gallant rescuer coming to save her from a loveless marriage and bring her to a better life. No, he was the groundskeeper of her husband’s estate. Her heart sank slightly, but she was glad to be back in reality.

“Let it grow,” she instructed softly. “Let’s see where it goes.”

Chapter Two

Reblogs and feedback mean the world!!

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headinthestaticsky · 3 years

Text

The Dusk Calls for me: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 12

AUTHORS NOTES: None of the characters in Twilight belong to me. All rights go to Stephanie Meyer.

We’re heading into the Finale of book 1 folks... I have so many ideas for book 2... it’s going to be great. Hopefully!

“You get ready, you get all dressed up

To go nowhere in particular Back to work or the coffee shop Doesn't matter 'cause it's enough To be young and in love.”

Love by, Lana Del Rey

Bella was finally going to meet the Cullens officially. All day before I had left to go down there she paced, looking like she was going to be sick. All of the Cullens were cooking Italian for Bella. The only person who I was worried about was Rosalie. She was furious at Edward for even dating her, and when he went public with her... it set her over the edge. Emmett was chopping up lettuce and other vegetables for her while Rosalie begrudgingly held a bowl for him to put it in. I was sitting in the living room with Jasper, he was concentrated on reading some books. It was always entertaining to watch vampires read so quickly.

“Is she even Italian?” Rosalie asked.

“Her name is Bella, Rose... she has to be.” Emmett replied.

“Emmett... you thought I was french just because my name is Fleur. That food was really good though... not like I am complaining. I said.

“Okay I admit I messed up there but, I have to be right about this one.”

“Whatever you say Em.”

“Shut it short-stack.”

“At least I don’t hit my head through small doorways.”

He glared at me jokingly and then rolled his eyes.

“Rose, tell her to stop bullying me.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do that... it’s too funny to listen to.” Rosalie said.

“Ugh, I feel betrayed.” Emmett said, his hands going toward his un-beating heart.”

Rosalie smiled, it was soon dropped though. She must’ve kept thinking about Bella.

“She better eat this.”

“Don’t want to sound gluttonous here but... I was totally eat if she doesn’t.... it’s her lose.”

“Stop trying to make me laugh.”

“I will never stop my attempts to make you laugh.”

“Woo, get a whiff of that, here comes the human!” Rosalie said in a sing-songy voice.

Esme smiled widely, she quickly wiped her hands before making her way over to Bella.

“Bella, we’re making Italiano for you.”

“Bella, this is my Esme my mother for all intents and purposes.”

Emmett raised his hand and waved at Bella with a knife in it. Bella and Esme exchanged a bit of Italian.

“Hello again Bella, hope you’re well.” Jasper said.

“Hey, Jasper... hope you’re well too.”

“You’ve given us an excuse to use the kitchen again. We usual make meals for your sister when she stays over.” Carlisle said.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Esme added.

I could see a nervous look on Bella’s face, I probably should’ve told her they would cook for her.

“Y-yeah absolutely.”

“She already ate.” Edward said, a tinge of attitude in his voice.

Rosalie stood there, anger was all of her face. She smashed the bowl she was holding in her hand.

“Pull back Edward, you’re throwing her to the wolves!” I thought.

“Damn Rose... remind me not to piss you off again.” I said.

She had to bite down a smile.

“Perfect...” She said.

“It’s just because... I know you guys don’t eat. I didn’t want to put you into any trouble.”

“Of course, that is very considerate of you.” Esme comforted.

“Just ignore Rosalie, I do.” Edward said.

“Yeah, let’s just keep pretending that this isn’t dangerous for all of us.”

“Look, I would never tell anybody about you guys... Besides, Fleur knows and you trust her.”

“It’s because I pick up a good energy from her... I know I can trust her with anything I tell her. She’s not a backstabber, she’s told me some of the stuff you’ve done. I’m sorry but, it made me sick the way you use to treat her. I hated seeing how upset she got telling the things you and your mother said to her”

My eyes widened before looking down at my legs... maybe me being here just reminded them of some of the things I told them. I wasn’t being much help to Bella right now. Jasper sensing my nerves rising, calmed them down. My uncomfortable mood slowly simmering down.

“Rosalie, stop... don’t worry Bella, she knows you wouldn’t say anything about us to anyone.” Carlisle said.

“Well, the problem not is, you two have gone public now so...”

“Emmett.” Esme interrupted.”

“No, she should know. The entire family could get implicated if this ends badly.”

“Badly, as in... I would become the meal.”

All of the Cullens in the house except for Rosalie and Esme started to laugh. I heard a few thumps before I saw Alice and Dean enter the room.

“Hi, Bella... I’m Alice.” Alice jogged toward Bella, giving her a hug.

“Hi.”

“Gosh, you do smell good.”

“Alice what’re you.”

“Don’t worry... Bella and I are going to be great friends.”

Dean looked like he was struggling to say something. I could tell he was uncomfortable to be around Bella right now.

“It-it’s a p-pleasure to meet you.” He said.

“Don’t mind Dean, he and Jasper are our newest vegetarians.”

“It’s okay Dean, you won’t hurt her.”

The expression on Edward’s face made me want to laugh.

“Okay well, I’m going to show her around the house.”

“Okay.” Bella mumbled.

“I’ll see you soon.” Alice said.

“Okay.” Bella said again.

“So cute!” Esme gushed.

“I know!” Alice said in agreement.

“I think that went well.” Carlisle added.

“Rose, clean this up... now.” Esme said.

I leaned back into the couch, sinking into it. Jasper put his arm around my shoulder. “What an interesting visit.” I thought to myself.

Another day came and went by, Bella and I were on our way to the diner. It had been so long since I had been down there. I was in the passengers seat of her truck. I thought since we were going to the same place, we should probably drive in the same vehicle... During out drive she started talking about how Edward had been watching her sleep for months.

“Are you serious Bella? That’s kinda creepy.”

“I’m sure you have Jasper in your room with you at night.”

“Yeah but, he always asks me before he goes in there. We plan stuff like that out... He should be coming later tonight actually.”

“Okay... you have a point there.”

When we arrived at the diner and got out of the truck Mike approached us...

“Hey, you and Cullen huh? I don’t like it... I mean he looked at you like you’re something to eat.”

Bella and I looked at each other and smirked... he had no idea how correct he was in that statement. We walked past him and entered the dinner, dad was already waiting for us.

“Hey I hope you two don’t mind I ordered food for you guys already. I got you Bells a Spinach Salad and I got you a burger Fleur.”

“Yeah that sounds good.” I said.

“Good picks dad. Even though, you should get a salad like me next time... cut back the steak.” Bella said.

“Hey, I’m as healthy as a horse.”

"Hey , Chief, the boys want to know... did you find anything by Queets river today?" The waitress asked.

"Yeah, we found a bare human footprint... but it looks like whoever it is is headed east... the Kisap County Sheriff is gonna take over from here."

"Okay, I hope whoever it is... they get them fast." The waitress then walked away, a group of men started talking within there group.

I turned around hearing something outside, Mike was doing something to a poor bush outside. I nudged Bella, trying to get her attention.

“Hey, someone’s flagging you outside.”

“It seems that Newton boys got a big smile for you.” Dad added.

Bella looked, and then turned back around, her face looked horrified.

“You can join them if you want.” I said smirking.

“Shut up you jerk... Mike is a good buddy though.” She said back.

Dad face flushed slightly... as if what he was going to say next was embarrassing.

“W-what about any other of the yahoo’s in town?”

“Dad... we aren’t going to talk about boys are we?” Bella said, her face starting to turn red too.”

“I guess not... with you at least.... How is everything going with you and Jasper, Fleur?”

I looked up confused, how did conversation about Bella’s relationships get turn into one about mine.

“It’s going well.”

“Good, I noticed you’ve been spending a lot more time with him lately. That car ride you took was a long one.”

“Oh yeah we drove out for a while... we looked at the stars... it was really nice. He told me I seemed stress and just decided to take me somewhere.” I said, I looked down at my hands while smiling.

Dad seeing this smiled too.

“I always liked that boy, you got yourself I good one.”

“I know I do.” I said finally looking up at him.

“I was only bringing up boys with you Bella because... I feel like I leave you alone too much.”

“I don’t mind being alone dad, I’m like you in that way.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Timeskip: Later that night.

I was in my room, thinking about what dad had said earlier... He found a bare human footprint in the woods. Could it of been the same footprint of the woman who’s body I seemed to be suck in during my dreams? Or could it of been someone else entirely? The wind from my open window got harsher for a second, I then heard a familiar soft thud on my floor. I turned my head, locking my eyes with his.

“What’s going on in that head of yours love?” Jasper asked

“Just thinking of something my dad said earlier...”

“What is it?”

“My dad said he found a bare human footprint down at Queets river today... He said it was heading east. Have you guys found anything yet?”

“No, we haven’t found anything, it’s starting to get frustrating. Have you had anymore dreams about those vampires?”

“Nope... if it is them though, I have a feeling that print was just a trap to throw them off course.”

“I do too... hey, my family and I plan on playing baseball tomorrow, since Edward is inviting Bella... I thought you could come too.”

“Yes, I would love too, watching Emmett climb and crash into things is my favorite part of the game. That and all those tricks you do with the bat.”

“It’s a plan then, I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” I pecked his lips before getting comfortable in my bed, I was still a human... I needed some sleep. I laid there, Jasper behind me holding close.

“Tomorrow is going to be a fun day.” I thought to myself, before drifting off to sleep.

#jasper hale x oc #jasper hale #rosalie hale #jasper hale x reader #edward cullen #alice cullen #esme cullen #emmett cullen #carlisle cullen #bella swan #twilight #twilight saga

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whiskery-louis · 3 years

Text

Game Night

** Hi everyone here is my first imagine in a while and it is pretty long and there will be a part 2!

Synopsis: Luke and you broke up 6 months ago. Ashton invites you over for game night.

Luke Hemmings x reader

Warnings: None

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!!

*not my photo*

“Come on Y/N you have to come see us! We’re traveling across the country just to see you!” Ashton whined through the phone.

“Well I didn’t ask you too Ash. I can’t risk seeing him-”

“He’s not coming, he’s staying here with her. Hell I don’t even think he knows we left.”

You sighed, “Who exactly is ‘we’?”

“Me and Mikey,” you could hear the smile in his voice. You had always been the closest to him and Michael. Not that you and Calum weren’t close, it was just different.

“What about Cal?” you asked.

“He’s staying back so you know who doesn’t get suspicious about the three of us all leaving for a weekend.”

“I don’t know Ash,” you sighed again. “I have work and stuff. Plus I was supposed to see the twins this weekend, and I wanted to go to Target…” you trailed off as you rattled on with excuses.

“Oh please, you know you miss us just as much as we miss you. It’s been six months Y/N, just come hangout for the night. I promise it’s not gonna be anything big. Just you, me, Mike and Crystal. We’ll just do pizza and play some games. Please Y/N, we’re already at the airport and if you don’t come willingly we got your new address from Lacey.”

You mentally cursed your best friend, she knew you specifically didn’t give any of them your new address for this very reason. You were out of excuses and you could hear Ashton’s smirk through the phone. He had you cornered and he knew it.

“Fine. Text me your Airbnb info and I’ll come over tomorrow when I’m done work. But you better be getting the good pizza, and there better be drinks.”

“Yes she’s in!” you heard Mikey yell in the background. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread over your face.

“Bye boys, safe flight.”

You hung up the phone and put your head in your hands. While part of you was very excited to see Ashton and Michael again there was still a part of you that was worried. There was too much history between you and him so of course they all knew about it. They tried not to take sides during the break up but everyone knew he had Calum and you had the other two. It was part of the reason that you had moved back home instead of trying to find a place to stay in L.A.. You could feel the tension that was building between the four of them and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin their friendships or their band. It was all way more important than you.

You hadn’t really spoken to any of them much other than the casual ‘how are you’ texts here and there. But from him it had been radio silence for six months. Now here you were, five minute after speaking with Ashton and you were already more stressed than you’d be in week. What did you get yourself into?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearing 6:15 and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull up to the house, you had been circling the block for almost 20 minutes and every time you were about to stop you told yourself one more lap. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you, you knew it was only Ash, Mike and Crystal and yet just the thought of being around his friends was enough to make you sick.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, finally pulling into the drive. You grabbed your bag, and although you hated to admit it, you were excited to see your old friends.

You walked up to the door and hesitantly knocked on it. As soon as your knuckles hit the wood you could hear yelling and footsteps running up to the door.

“Y/N!!!” Ashton yelled engulfing you in a massive hug.

“Can’t breathe…”

“Oi sorry, I’ve just missed you lots.”

“I missed you too.” you grinned at him, wondering what you had been worried about all day. It felt like no time had passed.

“Well let her in the door man,” Michael spoke up from behind.

You smiled as you entered the house and walked over to Mikey hugging him hard.

“It’s been too long,” he muttered as he let you back.

“Well yeah, that kinda happens when there’s a global pandemic and I move across the county.”

You could tell Michael was going to tell you off for moving but Crystal came in the room then and thankfully saved you from talking about him.

She wrapped her arms around you giving you a quick hug, “It’s so good to see you, I’m glad you made it!”

“Me too, though if I didn’t come willingly I knew you’d show up on my doorstep.”

“You got that right,” she laughed, “It took all my energy to keep them in the house all day.”

“Well I appreciate it, I had a lot of work to get through today figuring I’ll still be hungover on Monday from this weekend.”

It was fitting that as soon as I mentioned being hungover we walked into the kitchen to a full stocked bar.

“Man I forgot you guys really go all out for game nights,” you couldn’t help but laugh at some of the fond memories.

“Okay so what game are we playing first?” Ashton asked as he handed you a drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later and you really didn’t understand why you were so nervous to come. It was one of the best feelings catching up with your old friends and thankfully they didn’t bring him up once. You were in the middle of an intense game of charades, Crystal and you were kicking the boys asses.

“Alright do you guys want to give up yet? You’re never going to beat us so why not save yourselves the embarrassment.”

They both looked annoyed at how the game was progressing, “Well maybe if Mike could draw anything other than stick figures we would’ve stood a chance.” Ashton grumbled.

“And now you see why I always make sure someone else gets stuck with him,” Crystal laughed as she dodged the pen Michael threw at her.

You all laughed as you cleaned up and you went over to the stack of games, contemplating what you wanted to play next. You guys had made your way through a few different games and a few rounds of drinks and honestly you were exhausted. Since moving back home you didn’t hang out with many people other than Lacey and you forgot how much energy it took to be around people. You were tired but it was the best kind of tired.

“Can we just watch a movie now? I’m tired of losing,” MIchael whined from the couch.

“That’s exactly what a sore loser would say,” you shot back.

Michael just smiled and shrugged his shoulders looking at you, “At least I know it, but I so call picking the movie.” He picked up the remote and started searching through Netflix looking for a good comedy that everyone would watch.

“Anyone up for another round?” Ashton asked and you nodded following him into the kitchen to help. It was silent as he rummaged through the alcohol looking for something new to drink. You hopped up on the counter waiting to see what he would make.

“So how have you really been?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You looked up at him, startly by his question and you could see him looking at you intently and knew exactly what he was talking about, or more so who he was talking about.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated what to tell him. “I’ve been fine.” you answered shortly.

He scoffed at your answer, “Come on Y/N, I know you better than that and as relaxed as you seem, there is still a part of you that is on edge. You ghosted us all when you left and it was like we lost a member of our family. So tell me the truth, how are you really?”

His answer startled you, and you blinked to keep the tears at bay. “Ash I really don’t wanna ruin the night and talk about him. Can we just table it for now and go back in there with Mike and Crystal. I really don't wanna bring the mood down.” You stared back at him and there must’ve been something in your eyes because he dropped it. He handed you a drink and the two of you went back into the other room.

“Hey what were you two talking about?” Crystal asked as you sat next to her on the couch, a knowing look in her eye.

You elbowed her subtly, “Debating if Mikey was gonna pick a shitty movie or not,” you laughed.

“Don’t hate until you see it, it’s a good one you all like.” He pointed to the TV and you saw Shrek was on. “Also you could say thank you I ordered a pizza and it should be here in about 30 minutes.”

“Didn’t you just eat a plate of buffalo chicken dip and mac’n’cheese?”

He shrugged, “If it’s a problem Y/N then you can’t have any.” He stuck his tongue out at you.

You held your hands up in defense “No, no. Just asking, I’m for sure eating that pizza.”

“That’s what I thought,” Michael replied smugly.

You just rolled your eyes at him and sat back to begin the movie. Not even 10 minutes later and there was a knock on the door.

“Y/N since you were so judgy you can go answer the door.”

“Fine, fine. Though you suck at telling time Mikey, this was way less than 30 minutes.”

You got up from the couch and made your way to the door excited that the pizza was here much earlier than anticipated. There was another knock on the door as you were opening it. You froze when you saw who was there.

Luke.

He must not have been expecting you either because he had a dumbfounded look on his face, and his fist was frozen in mid knock.

“Y/N?” he breathed, his eyes boring into yours.

It was silent and you both just stood there and stared at each other. It had been six months since you had seen him and although there were some noticeable changes he was still the same Luke who broke your heart all those months ago. His arms were larger and his shoulders slightly broader. His hair was longer, his roots growing out which somehow suited him more. He had shaved his quarantine beard but the stubble was growing back. His eyes were the same blue that you fell in love with, but they were missing the usual mischievous glint.

“Luke why are you just-” Calum was caught off walking up behind Luke, his face lighting up when he saw you. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? It’s so good to see you!” He squeezed past Luke and pulled you into a tight embrace.

You had no words as you hugged Cal back, you were still in shock at them being here and you couldn’t take your eyes off Luke,

“What the hell is taking so long?” Ashton came around the corner and froze when he saw the new additions to the party. “Oh you guys are early…” he trailed off.

At his statement you felt the rage building in your veins, you pushed Calum off of you turning to Ashton the anger seeping out of you. “I’m sorry what? They’re what Ashton?”

He looked sheepishly at you, “Surprise?” he shrugged his shoulders, with a slight smile on his face.

You couldn’t believe this. It was all a setup. The whole night was a trick for you to see him again when Ashton knew more than anything that it was the last thing you wanted. You were at a loss for words, as much as you wanted to yell, you didn’t have the energy anymore.

“Look we can explain…”

You held your hand up cutting him off, “Don’t Ashton, just don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I’m leaving.”

You stormed into the other room, to get you things. MIchael was trying to look busy but the guilt was written all over his face. Crystal was sitting next to him with her arms crossed glaring at her fiance, she looked up when you walked in.

“I am so sorry Y/N, I had no idea or I would’ve never let them pull this stunt.”

You gave her a weak smile, “I’m just going to get my things and go.”

Michael turned and looked like he was going to say something, but one look from Crystal silenced him.

“Thanks for the fun while it lasted, but please don’t reach out again,” you heard footsteps behind you and knew the others had followed you into the room. “I thought maybe I could be friends with some of you,” you pointedly looked at Luke, “But if this is the shit you are going to pull them I am out. I’m sorry but I cannot go through this again. I just can’t.”

With that you grabbed your bag and all but ran out of the house. As you sat in your car you were thankful that you didn’t have too much to drink and were able to drive yourself home. The thirty minute drive seemed to take forever. All you wanted was your bed and to be distracted by Netflix. After what felt like an eternity you pulled into your driveway and walked into your house. You threw your bag on the table and couldn't believe the night you had. You knew Ashton and Michael had wanted you to talk to Luke when you first broke up, but that was six months ago. You never thought that they would pull this shit tonight. It was almost more painful this time as you realized you had to cut all of them out of your life and not just Luke.

You hadn’t expected to see him tonight and it really messed you up. You had spent the last six month erasing him from your life, as much as you could. You put everything he gave you into a box that was hidden in your basement. You tried to throw it away but it felt wrong somehow. He was too big a part of your life to completely get rid of. Lacey once asked you why you didn’t get rid of it all and you knew she thought it meant you still loved him but that wasn’t it. You just couldn’t bear to part with everything that had once brought you so much happiness. You hadn’t opened the box since you moved back home, as you went downstairs to bring it to the kitchen, you knew it was going to hurt more after seeing him tonight, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You spent over an hour looking through all the memories the two of you had made during your time together and you were a mess sitting on the floor with tears rolling down your face. Maybe it was from the exhaustion that raked your body or the alcohol that was still in your system but you left the contents of the box sprawled over the island and slipped on his old Nirvana shirt before going to your bed and finally falling asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next thing you knew you were being jolted awake by a banging on your door. You looked at the clock and groaned when you saw it was only 8:00am. Who the hell would be here so early. Hoping it was just a package you rolled back over and tried to fall back asleep, when the person knocked again.

You signed as you rolled out of bed and trudged downstairs in nothing but the old shirt you fell asleep in. Rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the brightness, you opened the door and had to squint to see who was there.

“Y/N, you uh forgot your phone and I wanted to make sure it got back to you safely.”

You hated that your heart skipped a beat as your name rolled off his lips, your eyes focused on him and the events of last night came back to you instantly.

“Luke.”

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