#nabootycall

[brandyllyn]

Taglist

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This Time

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x f!reader [no use of y/n. 3POV]

Sequel to Next Time - but I think it works as a stand alone

Words: 2.8k

My Masterlist

Rated: Teen. Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff.

Smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt, Jack frowned at his reflection in the Bronco’s side mirror. The material was a soft grey, short-sleeved with pearl snap buttons. It was one of his favorites, good for a casual day out, having a beer with friends - a utilitarian shirt.

His frown deepened.

Making an effort to look away, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, trying to make the lean against the truck as casual as possible. Wear the same thing as last time, she’d said.

It wasn’t that Jack didn’t like surprises, he enjoyed them as much as the next person. He just liked to be informed, that was all. How could he protect people, do his job, if he didn’t have full information?

“Hey Jack.”

Her soft voice startled him out of his musings and he jerked his head up to see her. His mouth froze on his greetings, the words garbling in his throat. 

Lord have mercy, she was wearing jeans. Jeans that looked like they had been painted on her, framing soft thighs and an ass he felt a sudden irresistible urge to bite. She had on a loose blouse with one of those camisoles with the thin straps underneath. 

And she was smiling. At him. 

The beauty of her knocked him on his ass and he completely missed his opportunity to meet her, to walk with her and open the car door like a gentleman. Instead he scrambled inside and flung himself across the bench seat, grabbing at the passenger door handle and giving her a sheepish smile as she slid inside.

“Lord, you’re pretty as a speckled pup.” She raised an eyebrow and he gave his head a sharp shake. “It’s a compliment.”

“Is it?”

Damn it to hell, how was he messing this up already? Again.

“It is,” he turned the key in the Bronco and set it to drive. 

When she had offered to plan their second date, the old school gentleman in Jack had balked. He’d been raised to believe it was a man’s  job to do the romancing. To plan the outings, pay for dinner, make the moves.

Then again, their first date had gone so poorly he hadn’t objected when she’d offered to plan their second. Only some of it had been his fault, in his defense. He couldn’t have done anything about the tornado. 

“Where to, darlin’?”

“Head into town, then north on New Circle Road”

They chit chatted on the drive into Lexington, a little over an hour with light traffic. Plenty of time for Jack to learn more about her. She wanted a pet, but worried her job at Statesman would interfere. Never been married, although she made passing mention of a proposal that perked his ears. She asked him questions about his hobbies, and then made appropriate follow-up noises of appreciation about the Bronco when he said it was refurbishing older vehicles.

“It’s very shiny,” she smiled and he choked back a laugh. Maybe he should have mentioned his ever so slight obsession with World War II documentaries instead.

She gave no clues to where they were going, nodding slightly when he got off the highway onto Route 4 but aside from that remaining mum. When they turned on to the city streets north of town Jack almost asked but held his tongue. Stadium signs rose to their right as she directed him into a half empty parking lot. Even as they approached the stadium, he didn’t ask the question that bubbled in him.  Not until she handed two construction paper tickets to an older lady and led him inside.

“Baseball?”

“The Lexington Legends,” she chirped back, slipping into the sparse crowd and looking back to see if he followed.

He did, his gait slipping into an easy saunter. Earlier, he’d have laid all his money they were going to a museum for the day. Maybe some kind of art gallery.

“Never figured you for a baseball fan.”

“I’m not really,” she shrugged, eyeing something over his shoulder as she came to a stop. “But this isn’t baseball. It’s minor league baseball.”

“Other than the obvious, what’s the difference?”

“Baseball is about the sport. It’s about winning and all that.” A soft aha noise left her and she grabbed his hand, slipping her fingers between his and dragging him to a vendor. “But minor league is about having fun. It’s a carnival with baseball as an excuse.”

Glancing up at the sign he smiled, “Funnel cake?”

“To start,” she answered with a decisive nod. “After that they have one of those things set up where you hit baseballs and win prizes.”

“A batting cage?” His interest was piqued.

“Yeah, that,” she said distractedly.

He didn’t have her attention. She was practically salivating as she gave her order, not just the cake but deep fried Coca Cola and a lemonade to go with it.

“Shouldn’t be possible to fry a liquid,” Jack mumbled, licking powdered sugar from his fingertips. “But damn if it ain’t good.”

She beamed back at him, reaching up and using her thumb to wipe at the corner of his mustache. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do.” He managed not to shiver at her touch - barely. “But I have to admit it’s not what I expected.”

“Well,” she turned her back to him, leading him to a nearly empty set of bleachers. “One of the times you were asking me out you mentioned going to the state fair. If I remember right you tried to lure me with fried Oreos.”

“I did,” he nodded.

“And I know you play on the distillery’s softball team so I figured it wouldn’t be the most boring venue.”

Staring at the first baseman, Jack tapped the heel of his boot on the steel bleacher. “That was pretty astute of you.” Ducking her head she concentrated on their food and Jack eyed the field. “You rootin’ for anyone in particular?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. I don’t even know who the teams are.”

Shutting his eyes for a moment Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Are you telling me, sugar, that you brought me to a baseball game solely for the food?”

“Well, I brought me solely for the food. But I thought you might like the game.”

“You are…” he searched for the word. Finally he settled on a huff of laughter, sliding the funnel cake from her hands and ignoring her protests. He leaned over and pressed his nose to her shoulder, “… somethin’ else.”

“Is that good?” She asked, one hand snaking over to his lap and the fried strings of dough. He picked one up instead, straightening and holding it out to her.

“Is to me.”

The Legends were playing a good game - relying a bit too much on a strong pitcher in Jack’s opinion, half the team couldn’t bat for shit - but he didn’t protest when his companion tugged on his arm in the third inning with a pleading look in her eye. 

“Pickles?”

A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Fried?”

 “Of course.”

“Lead the way.”

It was probably coincidence that the vendor was right next to the batting cage. And Jack couldn’t resist those pretty eyes when she bit her lip and glanced over at the stuffed animals hanging from the fence.

“Want me to win you one, sugar?”

“You think you can?” she asked with a tease on her voice.

He hummed an affirmative, rolling his shoulder under his shirt. It ached sometimes after the distillery league games, but it had been fine lately, certainly fine enough to knock out a couple homers and get the purple dog looking thing she was staring at.

“What do I get?”

She tapped her lip thoughtfully at the question. “Third date?”

“Deal,” he said quickly, pulling out a five and handing it to the guy without preamble. Her giggle followed him and he gave the bat a trial swing before setting his stance. 

Crack.

The first ball was a foul, sailing almost straight up and into the tarp. Jack jumped back to avoid being brained and grunted. He’d gotten used to the underhand throws of the softball league. He’d need to re-evaluate.

Whiff.

Fuck, he hadn’t even touched the second. He felt the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment and took a swing at the third. It felt solid as it connected, a low hit midway down the far tarp. A solid hit in a real game, but not enough to read as a home run in the cage.

He had another five in his hand before the ball stopped rolling “Again.”

Another foul.

And another.

A low drive to a non-existent third baseman.

“Again.”

“Jack,” her voice sounded too soft and he didn’t look at her.

Two hits and a miss, one that should have been a home run but the damn game clocked it as a triple and Jack gritted his teeth against the argument that rose in his throat.

“Jack, come here.”

Shoulders sagging he turned to the fence, taking a step to it and frowning. “Sugar I-“

“A kiss.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Win me the dragon and you get a kiss.”

He blinked again and darted his eyes to the purple stuffed animal. Is that what it was? A dragon?

Wait.

Wait.

A teasing smile pulled the corners of her lips up, a touch of powdered sugar still dusting the lower one. She’d be sweet, he knew that. And soft.

“Hell yeah,” he muttered, thumbing another bill at the kid running the cage. The prize wasn’t worth twenty bucks but that wasn’t the point.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

Three home runs, a light and siren going off each time. 

She looked skeptical. “Did you batting cage shark me?”

“Did I what?” he spluttered, pointing at the largest version of the dragon for the worker.

“Batting cage shark, like a pool shark. Pretend to be bad so I’d offer you something?”

“Yes…?” he said slowly, drawling the word out and squinting slightly. It was a better explanation than anything he had. He handed the stuffed animal over, taking the nearly gone pile of fried food from her.

She frowned as she wrapped her arms around the ridiculously large toy. After a moment her face broke into a grin. “Liar.”

“I simply lacked proper motivation.”

Shifting the toy in her embrace she leaned towards him. “Are you going to collect?”

He traced his eyes over her face and settled a hand at the base of her spine. “Later.”

The spluttering sound she made at that warmed his heart.

“I’m assuming we don’t have dinner plans?” Jack asked as he held open the Bronco door for her. He took the dragon from her with one hand, patting her thigh slightly as she buckled in.

“Are you still hungry?” she responded incredulously.

Grinning, he leaned into the back of the truck, setting the plush down and pulling one of the lap belts across it. “Not a bit, I was just checking.” Dragon secured, he slipped into the front seat. “Where next?”

He didn’t expect it to be a bar, a dive bar at that. She was a fancy gal - she’d shown for their first date in a pencil skirt and heels for Christ’s sake. Then again, the last time he’d told her he was going to ‘Show her the town,’ so maybe that was just a miscommunication.

“You dance?” he asked after they got their drinks, leaning in a dark corner a little away from the speakers.

“A little,” she shrugged. “Never had much of a chance to learn.”

“Not interested?”

“Two left feet.” She laughed and he shifted closer. “It’s also a lot to keep track of. Counting, which direction to go…”

“You ever have a good partner?”

Without giving her a chance to answer, Jack swung her into an easy two-step, the live band doing a passable cover of an old George Strait song. She stumbled at first, but he kept a steady hand on her shoulder blade, giving the direction she needed to match his movements.

“Quick, quick, slow slow,” he muttered down to her helpfully and she glared back up at him.

Despite his teasing, she followed him like a dream, letting him guide her in a large circle around the floor. There was no looking behind her, no fighting him. With the gentlest pressure from him she turned slightly, keeping the rhythm and facing forward by his side, their interlinked arms ahead of them. 

“You’re a natural,” he smiled, guiding her into a turn so she was facing him again.

“You’re a good teacher,” she smiled back. He kept an eye on their drinks, making sure no one messed with them, but that only took about 5% of his concentration. The rest he could focus on the woman in his arms. She was settled into his embrace like they’d done this a hundred times before, his fingers spread behind one shoulder while he traced his thumb over her other hand. He knew the song was ending soon and he gave a silent prayer for another two-step.

Instead, a car engine revved and a twangy guitar intro followed. One any cowboy worth his salt would recognize, and he smiled. “Ever line danced?”

A shake of her head and his smile turned into a grin. “I’ll show you.”

It should have been easy, this one was a classic for a reason. A simple grapevine, a toe tap or two, some clapping and a booty shake.

She was hopeless at it.

“No that way,” he huffed, turning her waist with one hand. 

“One, one-two, one, one-two” he tried to help out as she double tapped and looked lost.

The third time she spun into him he gave up, pulling her close. “You weren’t kidding about those two left feet.”

“I told you-“

He shushed with her a turn, swinging her out of the way of the other dancers and back to their waiting drinks. “I thought that was modesty.”

She snorted, stirring her drink with a straw.

He did eventually manage to get her through the electric slide, but they did much better in the partner dances. Jack didn’t mind, any excuse to get his hands on her was welcome. 

It was raining by the time they left, rushing to the Bronco while Jack tried to hold his hat over her head. They were laughing when the doors shut and he did his best to ignore how the water made her blouse stick to her skin.

“Home then?”

A nod and he shifted into gear. He jumped in surprise when her hand slipped into his, drifting up to cradle his forearm when he needed it to change gears. He liked it, even though her fingers were cold, and once they got on the highway he entangled their fingers together and chatted about absolutely nothing.

She was sleepy by the time they got back to the compound, leaning back in her sleep and fighting to keep her eyes open. He shut the truck off, frowning when her hand slipped away after he was forced to let it go.

“I’ll walk you up.”

“You’re not going to claim that kiss?” she asked with a small frown and pout.

“Nah.” With one hand he swept his hat off, turning and settling it in the backseat. “I figure I’ll save it.”

“Save it for what?”

“Third date,” he informed her with a grin. “And my second chance.”

A soft smile came over her face and Jack couldn’t help but press his fingertips to her jaw, rubbing his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “But Lord you do make a man think twice about his convictions.”

“Oh do I?” A sly, sultry look replaced the shy one. “Maybe your convictions are in the wrong place.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, his thumb slipping down to trace her lips. “You’re enough to tempt a saint to sin.”

Her laughter warmed him, and his focus was so pinpointed on her smile that he missed that it was moving closer until it was almost a surprise when those smiling lips were pressed to his.

Lord he was right, she was sweet. And soft. Her mouth brushing over his with the barest of pressure. A groan escaped him, one hand clenching in the hair behind her neck. He wouldn’t push, he wouldn’t. But if she wanted to rub that body of hers against his and lick at the seam of his mouth who was he to deny her?

They were both panting when she broke away, and Jack’s jeans were fitting a bit tighter than normal.

“Next Saturday?”

“Tomorrow.” The word choked out of him and he winced. “Don’t make me wait a week to see you again, sugar.”

“Brunch?”

Yeah. Yeah he could do brunch.

“My place?”

In her house? Where her bed was?

Ain’t no way he would survive that.

“How bout we go out somewhere? You got any pretty Sunday dresses?”

The smile she gave him was dazzling, and a little mischievous. “I think I have something.”

Lord have mercy, what had he gotten himself into now?

For updates on stories please follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

Songs from the saloon: George Strait - I Just Wanna Dance With You Brooks and Dunn - Boot Scootin' Boogie

[discorobak]

made a meme just because i could

[padawanlost]

for being so nice and cute, copy this to ten other bloggers that you think are wonderful. keep the game going and make others feel beautiful ! 💘💝💖💗💓💞💕

awww thank you!!😍

[midnightdracoxx]

Alright so as promised for reaching 100 followers yesterday, here’s me 🥰🥰🥰 Hi it’s Jade lol 💕💕💕 (I take a lot of selfies in my car before work if I’m feeling myself lol *Cringe*) Sorry for the annoying tags and if I broke your phone screen ☠️

Tagging all my wonderful mutuals (sorry if all this tagging is annoying) 💕:  @mr-and-mrs-sith @ifvckedurmom @anakinskywalkerswhore @allthingsdie @rosegorls @psychettaxo @skywalkart @haydenchristensengifs @anakins-things @shads121 @chokemeanakin @equius @revengeofskywalker @jollymageret @marvelinsanity @obiwan-is-bae @starwarsafterdark @sunsetkenobi @anakin-simp @darthanckin @soka-toah66 @dreamy-clousds @corazar6 @nini-trash-forever @stefslightsaber @lpjavert24601 @nirvanajuana420 @mandodjn @anakinsbae @maeveslove @anakins-eyeliner @alienmasterluna @haydens-moles @animefangirl425 @ahsokryze @arieslunaangel @basicanti-socialb-tch @giggles-and-freckles @leia-from-aldera @nabootycall @hugmekenobi @cf-2007-vibe @padme-parker @babykinskywalker @anakinswhore @obi-bae-kenobi @fistmebuckyskywalker @beskar-tano 

[discorobak]

me every morning deciding which pedro pascal character i'm gonna simp for today

[discorobak]

hello followers, today i offer you an unfunny meme.

[221bshrlocked]

Taglist reblog :D

Pedro Pascal (and any of his characters) and some aren't working

@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @marsplsstop @ezrasbirdie @diogodxlot @janebby @juletheghoul @bii-aan-ckaa @nohartandsole @djjarins @giselatropicana @maziken@blackmarketmummy @laviipopii @ew-erin @fan-of-encouragement @melody13522 @clydesducktape @planetariumx @thirddeadlysin @leannawithacapitala @fangirl-316 @thou-creature-of-the-deep @what-iwish-you-knew @nabootycall @pascalsky @pedrostories

steal your heart (1)

Pairing: The Thief x Fem!Reader

Words: 2916

Warnings: Surprisngly, none.

Chapter Summary: "Is that desperation for intense rapture not, in the very least, romantic to you?"

A/N: I can't tell what's more hilarious, the fact that a goddamn ten-second video is what finally pushed me past this writer's block or the fact that I'm such a whore for this man that a ten-second video of him made me write this fucking thing. Then again, I shouldn't be complaining! This was meant to be a short oneshot but it got away from me so I'm making it into three or four installations (with the rest being absolutely filthy). Please let me know how I'm doing in the comments. Also, tell me if you want to be tagged in the comments of this post. And here is the link for the other taglists.

Unremarkable. Truly and utterly pathetic. Not remotely worth the hassle of the week, let alone the time it took to prepare for how you should greet the other guests. This ball was unlike any other, mostly because it was somehow more boring than all of the ones you’ve had the displeasure of attending during the past few years. Here you were, trying to make small talk with another pair of old acquaintances of your grandparents. From the beginning of the conversation, you could tell they were trying to learn everything about you so they could go home and tell their still bachelor grandkids about how single you still were and how important it is to try and establish some form of a relationship with you. But as much as you wished you could excuse yourself and tell them of your lack of interest, you couldn’t do so, and only for the sake of your grandparents. They were too well-known and too respected, and based on the multiple lines of questioning you’ve received throughout the night, they were too damn rich for their own good.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise how suddenly interested everyone was in your personal life. As irritating as your position was, you were thankful that your grandparents chose to keep you from the public eye for this long. You couldn’t imagine what it would have felt like to deal with so many unwanted and sad advances years ago but now that you were exposed to society, you perfected the art of smiling and chatting without giving away your own personal intentions and interests. It was quite satisfying and entertaining to hear whispers of how little was known of you and how difficult it was to get a few minutes in your presence. You hoped they wouldn’t think it vanity but if it meant to have less suitors and unnecessarily talkative gold-diggers, then you would let them think whatever they wanted to.

You manage to smile your way through the rest of the conversation without giving too much away. When the old woman chokes on her own saliva, you feign concern and lead her towards a more populated part of the ballroom. Before she can say anything else, you’re calling for one of the maids and asking her to bring the woman a cup of water. You almost stay by her side out of guilt for enjoying the silence that finally fell on her but when you see how quickly she tries to regain her breath, you ask her to remain seated until she feels better.

Not bothering to listen for a response, you walk away from her and smile at the guests that pretended, like you, to look concerned. As you make your way through the crowd, you can’t help but feel as if you’re being watched. The thought comes and goes quickly when it occurs to you that this uneasiness made no sense considering the scene the old couple caused. Taking a deep breath, you continue towards the corner of the room near the balcony, hoping to snatch a quick drink to calm your nerves as you take a breath of fresh air.

“May I please have a glass of red wine?” You ask the server politely as you smile towards the party also waiting for their drinks. When she finally hands you the drink, you thank her and immediately head towards the balcony, not noticing the pair of feet paddling closely behind you. As soon as you step aside, you sigh in relief and breathe in deeply before you rest the glass of wine on the cold ledge. Looking out to the estate below you, you roll your eyes when you see a couple getting handsy at the entrance of the labyrinth garden.

“Hah, typical.” You chuckle at the obvious lack of concern on their part and reach for the wine glass, other hand digging into the stone wall when you hear someone come up behind you.

“You can always call security to take care of them.” Wonderful, just what you needed as you tried to relax, another bachelor seeking your friendship.

“That’s quite alright, I’m not one to ruin a little bit of fun.” You turn to the side and smile at the stranger interrupting your alone time, grinning even deeper when you see how attractive he is.

“Is that so?” He takes a step closer to you as he speaks and you raise an eyebrow at him before subtly moving away from him.

“What can I say, I am a generous person!” You take another sip of the wine and turn away from him as he laughs and nods in agreement.

“As much as I hate to say it, you are more generous than I. If they were in my château, I would have thrown them out in a heartbeat for ruining such lovely roses.”

And just like that, you instantly lose interest in whatever else he has to say. It was a shame really considering how much you wished to have a little bit of fun yourself tonight. As open as you were, you couldn’t afford picking the wrong person to spend the night with. One unwise choice and you would have to deal with a pair of angry grandparents telling you to be more careful with the next man you take to your bed. And from the way this one sneered and eyed the couple below, you were sure he was unfortunately one of the many bad seeds you’ve kept company so far during this evening. God, these aristocrats were too much sometimes.

“Do you not think it romantic?” A deep voice brings you out of your momentary haze and as you turn around with the now unwanted company to see the owner of such an intense tone, you come face to face with what you distinctly recognize as the most handsome man you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. He’s so effortlessly disarming and you allow yourself to keep his gaze for another moment before you trail your eyes across his features and away from his seductive brown eyes. His striking nose should not be this attractive but you find it adds a ruggedness to the soft expression he was holding. A gust of wind comes through and you swallow nervously when you take notice of the way his long, wavy locks briefly fly away from his face before they frame his forehead and cheeks once more. A rush of goosebumps flow across your skin and you barely manage to keep your heart from leaping out of your chest when he slowly approaches you and looks to the couple below. You’re struck by how much larger he is now that he’s standing a mere foot away from you, unable to take your eyes away from how perfectly well his suit suits him. Never in your life did you ever think anyone would be able to pull off such a vibrant jacket filled with flowers yet as he stands there, you can’t help but wish you were the fabric currently clinging onto his extraordinary form.

And then he turns to you and throws you a smile and you realize that you are in much more danger than you initially thought you were in. God, he is unlike anyone you’ve ever beheld and you suddenly feel dizzy when the faint scent of his cologne reaches you. He’s a force to be reckoned with, that much you can tell, and when he raises his own wine glass to his plush lips, you clench your thighs tightly at the sight of the dark, bespoke leather gloves wrapping so beautifully around his long fingers. Never have you seen anyone wear such a subtle pair of accessories this perfectly before and you briefly wonder what it would feel like to have one wrapped around your neck while the other pushed into your heat. You can’t look away even if you try and as he raises his glass and takes a sip, your eyes curiously follow down to see the protruding cartilage of his neck sliding back and forth as he drinks. When you do finally dare to look into his chocolate orbs once more, you’re struck by how direct and piercing they are as they return contact.

“Forgive me, I hope I am not interrupting a private moment.” He smiles at you and the dimples that appear are so enchanting, you have to force yourself to look away from him and push your focus elsewhere.

“Well actually-” The other man, whom you have almost forgotten about, begins to respond but you clench your jaw tightly and shake your head towards the new guest, cutting off whatever rude comment was about to roll off from the irritating individual standing behind you.

“You’re not. But would you care to elaborate on your perspective of our rather enthusiastic friends down there?” You take a long sip of your wine following your question, mentally cursing yourself for finishing it so soon.

“Is that not enough though?” He asks and you must be looking at him with a quizzical expression because his smile grows even further before he steps closer to you. It terrifies you to see how much you don’t mind the proximity between the two of you, but you try to keep a strict hold on your body language, not wanting to make your attraction towards him too obvious.

“There is romance hidden behind each enthusiastic touch they deliver to one another, no? They are so enraptured by the sensation of their skin gliding against one another that they do not care if anyone sees them. Then again, perhaps it is less about carelessness and more about the adrenaline rushing through their veins because they could be caught at any moment. There is a need for touch and nothing will stand in the way of achieving every bit of it, even if the hostess herself were to interrupt them and remove them from her property. Is that desperation for intense rapture not, in the very least, romantic to you?” If you thought he was disarming before, you were sure he was all the more enchanting now that he managed to deliver such a passionate response regarding two complete strangers, whom you were sure, have never met before until this night.

“Had I known I would be in the company of such a hopeless romantic, I would have ensured to bring along my Auguries of Innocence.” You see a twinkle of recognition in his eyes that lights a fire in you and you bite your lower lip when he finishes his own wine before setting it on the ledge near yours.

“To see a world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower,” your eyes fill with lust as soon as he begins to recite to you the opening lines of the poem, and there is no mistaking the way his own are overtaken by similar emotions. But you’re suddenly taken aback by him when he raises his hand and brings forth a poppy flower out of thin air, unable to quiet your giggles when he presents it to you with a softened expression. “Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour.” He whispers to you as he keeps his covered hands wrapped around your own wrists for another moment before he remembers the company that refused to leave.

“Thank you sir.” The word leaves your mouth before you can stop yourself and your eyes widen in shock when you see his smirk widen for a moment before he turns away and looks towards the younger man.

“There is a difference between your words and an unhinged couple desperate to fuck in the middle of such a grandiose garden.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the crude words but choose to ignore them as you raise the flower to your nose and breathe in it’s sweet scent.

“I would happily claim these words as mine but I would unfortunately be caught in a lie. However, as I said, it is the uncontrolled motions that make this moment all the more valuable to our friends down there.” Before you can stop yourself, you twirl around until your back is against the garden, waiting for the moment where your fascinating friend focuses his attention on you again before resting your body against the ledge.

“While I do agree with you that there is as much romance in the fragile beauty of nature as there is between those two lovebirds, I do believe it is more alluring and exotic to have controlled motions rather than frenzied, and clearly, miscalculated touches.” You let your words hang in the air briefly and when you look at the other guest, you barely manage to hold back from laughing into his face when his confused expression grows with every passing second.

“If I didn’t know any better mariposa, I would say that it sounds like you enjoy being controlled?” The question catches you off guard, mostly because you thought he would respond with words that held less implications, and you almost drop the flower from between your fingers when you feel the leather of his gloves softly touch the skin of your back as he leans into you.

“Only if the right person comes around.” You know you should watch what you say, especially in the presence of the other man who clearly enjoyed talking and would most likely tell his other acquaintance of your less-known interests. But with the way your mystery guest is looking at you, as if he could devour you on this ledge had you two been alone, you can’t find it in yourself to care any less about what you’d just admitted to.

“And what kind of person would that be?” The younger guest asks and you almost roll your eyes and respond to him because he was obviously not in any way a part of this intimate conversation. But then you watch as the other man straightens his back and glares at the unwanted attention you were receiving. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to establish dominance over you and the thought both angered you and turned you on.

“No offense but if you have to ask, then you’re probably not the right person.” Once more, the response is not what you thought he would say and like before, you lose a little bit of interest in him because even though he was correct, the comment was downright rude and unnecessary. You could tell it wasn’t said due to low self-esteem, the opposite as a matter of fact, but he had no right saying anything on your behalf when you could speak for yourself.

“It is curious you think you could offer your opinion on my preferences, Caballero.” The title rolls off of your tongue in anger and sarcasm, and you are content your assumption of his rank is correct because the darkened brown eyes turn into shock as you remove yourself from the cold wall and away from his touch. “A true gentleman wouldn’t assume what a lady looks for in a partner.” Perhaps the venomous words are as unnecessary as his comment but you don’t bother to retract them or apologize. Nothing in this world irritated you more than someone thinking they could say whatever they wished to simply because they found your good graces.

“Tanto usted como yo sabemos que no es una dama.” His tone no longer holds playfulness and you narrow your eyes at him when you recognize resentment and irritation swimming in between those words. Somehow though, you couldn’t identify a narcissistic ego as the drive behind such a disrespectful comment and it pissed you off even more when you realized he was not retaliating due to low self-esteem or a heightened ego. He chose to speak such words because he thought he had already laid a trap for you and was now noticing how much harder he’d have to work to enjoy your company again.

“Sin embargo, podrías haberme engañado.” Your tone no longer holds any malice or impatience but neutrality, and you refuse to smile in triumph when you see his expression change once more, this time to a more penitent gaze when it occurs to him how colossal a mistake he made assuming you couldn’t understand what he spewed at you seconds ago.

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I believe it is rude of me to not attend to my other guests. Enjoy the rest of your evenings.” You can tell he wants to stop you and apologize for his behavior, but you do not give him a chance to say anything, allowing the silence of the balcony to be filled with the assertive sound of your heels as they stomped back into the ballroom. But before you step past the cold air and into the humid atmosphere, you approach one of the servers and put the white flower in an already used glass.

“Get rid of this for me please. Thank you.” Your voice is loud and clear, and as much as you wished to keep the flower to remind yourself of the stranger and his charms, you decide to value your persona more than your needs.

If he truly wanted you, he would have to learn how to respect you before you would allow him to degrade you.

Translations and please please correct my Spanish because I know I'm bad at it even after taking it for four years. -Tanto usted como yo sabemos que no es una dama. - You and I both know you are not a lady. -Sin embargo, podrías haberme engañado. - Yet you could have fooled me. -Mariposa - butterfly

Tagging some people who showed interest in this fic (I will reblog with the other taglist later): @ayoungpascallover-readings @miraclesabound @just-here-for-the-moment @beautyagegoodnesssize @kesskirata @prettylilhalforc @eri16

[discorobak]

omg return of the jedi ending is so emotional

[discorobak]

this anakin with this padmé... yes, au writers, i dare you

[discorobak]

i don't know if i want to fuck him or break his neck

[midnightdracoxx]

Thanks for the tag @princessxkenobi​

No pressure tags ☁️: @anakinseyelashes​ @fistmebuckyskywalker​ @giggles-and-freckles @obi-bae-kenobi @nabootycall @christensenseyebrowscar @hugmekenobi

Tagged by @negans-lucille-tblr - love a bit of picrew! Here's a link for those that wanna give it a go too - PICREW

Tagging; @stuckonjbbarnes @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @whitestarbucky-main @justagirlinafandomworld @writingsoftheloser 🧡

[discorobak]

anakin before and after his wedding night with padmé:

[discorobak]

it's 12:42 a.m. and i'm thinking about anakin burying his face between my breasts and just staying there so i could run my fingers through his curls and massage his scalp as he sighs into my skin. that's the post. bye.

[midnightdracoxx]

Thanks for the tag @anakinseyelashes & @fistmebuckyskywalker 🥰

No pressure tags ☁️: @christensenseyebrowscar @dracos-jedi-marvel @skye058 @obi-bae-kenobi  @babykanskywalker @padme-parker @cf-2007-vibe @hugmekenobi @nabootycall

Favorite movie tag!

I got tagged by @iscariot-rising to post some of my fave movies! I’m not much of a movie watcher but if I had to pick some favorites, they would be these:

I chose the FX version of A Christmas Carol but, honestly, mostly any Christmas Carol movie, I love. I just love that story, don’t judge me lol

I tag: @zacklover24, @cocassedoodles, @anakinswhore, @iwantedhappiness, @basicanti-socialb-tch, and anyone else who wants to do it X3

[discorobak]

my theory is that this is not ahsoka tano in the mandalorian, but her evil twin sister ashoka, who was jealous of ahsoka's long lekku and montrals and decided to kidnap her and pretend to be her. that's why she looks so weird. this is canon now. because i said so.

there's no other logical explanation for her looking like this

rather than this

and i can't believe i'm saying that, but i prefer the rebels' design of her

[discorobak]

i want anakin skywalker to be the lightsaber to my youngling