Tumgik
#and i have no idea how I’m supposed to approach that conversation so i’m just gonna let it go
to-be-a-dreamer · 1 year
Text
I wonder how long it’ll take my friends to realize I’m not straight cause I keep making “I like women” jokes but they’re all cishet white men so I feel like they’re taking it in a “oh the joke is that you’re not gay” way so it’s taking a little while. However, me and this guy I know from GSA have this thing where every time we see each other we just point at each other and yell “Gay!” So it’s really only a matter of time.
3 notes · View notes
leaderwonim · 2 months
Text
i’m just a teenage dirtbag baby ( like you. )
based on this edit !!
pairing. troublemaker!nishimura riki x goody-two-shoes!fem!reader
summary. nishimura riki was infamous for being handsome and also quite the character. he’d purposely throw papers everywhere, bump into people without a care, and ditch class like it was nothing. you were the complete opposite, but deep down, nishimura riki knew you were just like him
warnings. cursing, smoking, riki destroys someone’s private property 😭, riki is your typical teenage dirtbag, he also calls her sweets
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Hey.”
Nishimura Riki slides onto the seat right next to yours, blinking twice as much as he should be. You knew it was one of his teasing habits, meant to make you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.
“What do you want Nishimura?”
He puts his hand over his chest, pretending he’s wounded by your words. “Nishimura? We’re on last name basis sweets?”
“Shut up,” you say, pushing his face away with your index finger. “I have exams to study for.”
“Let me see.” He ignores your protests, flipping your textbook to his side as he eyes the papers. “Ew, mathematics? You’re a bigger nerd than I thought sweets.”
“Don’t call me sweets.” You say, sticking out your tongue in annoyance. “And get out of here.”
He lifts both hands in surrender, “alright, alright, I’ll leave sweets. Gotta meet Jungwon anyways.”
You thank whoever above was listening to your pleas of making Riki leave. Turning around to face the desk he was in, you realize he hadn’t pushed in his chair.
“Nishimura!” You groan out loud, pushing it in with your foot. This earns you a shush from the librarian, which only fuels your hatred towards the Japanese boy.
.♡.
“Y/N! Is that you?” There was Nishimura Riki’s annoying voice again, the one voice that you dread to hear everytime you entered school.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than annoy other people?” You ask, face clearly unimpressed.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed.”
You glare at Jungwon’s unneeded input in the conversation, which makes him snicker and look away.
“You guys are ditching again?”
Riki and Jungwon shrug, making you roll your eyes. Of course the two were ditching, why did you even ask?
“We were gonna stop by the cigarette shop and get a pack or two.”
Jungwon elbows Riki, as if he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.
“What? We can trust Y/N, isn’t that right sweets?”
“You still call her sweets?” Jungwon groans. “Gross dude. Let’s go.”
Jungwon starts walking, Riki closely following behind him. Just before they exit the school corridors, the boy throws you a wink, one that you roll your eyes at.
“You’ll love me one day sweets!” He shouts.
“In your dreams Nishimura!”
.♡.
It seemed like nothing was going your way. The next week had approached and even though it was barely Monday, your teachers decided it was a good idea to assign a bunch of exams on the same day.
With quivering hands, you tried not to get the tears that were currently coming out of your eyes onto your physics paper, which was marked with a 68.
How on earth did you get a 68? You were so sure you knew the formulas that were needed for the exam, but what was on the test looked completely different from what you expected.
You could barely find it in yourself to walk home, legs practically dragging across the concrete floor as you wipe your tears away with your windbreaker.
“Sweets?”
Although your normal self would snarl at the nickname and the voice it belonged to—you found yourself too tired and miserable to care at this point.
“Riki?”
You wipe your eyes again, vision clearing in enough to make out Riki leaning against one of the large trees a few meters away from the school.
“Hey, what’s wrong sweets?” He takes the cigarette that was currently dangling on his mouth out, squishing the head of it on the dirt floor beside him.
“Are you smoking again? That’s bad for you and you know it.”
“Geez sweets,” he laughs, finally standing up. “You looked like you just bawled your eyes out yet you still have enough energy to lecture me?”
“Shut up.”
“Ah, there she is again.”
Riki makes his way closer to you, head peering down to reach your level.
“Don’t cry.” He says softly, and it’s the first time you heard him in that tone. “Makes your eyes all red and scary.”
“Yah!”
He laughs when you hit him on the shoulder, sound that used to make you frown but you were weirdly enjoying it now.
“I’m kidding sweets!” He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. “You’re pretty, even when you have tear stains all over you.”
The two of you continue walking, you not too sure where Riki was even taking you.
“Where are we going?” You sniffle, looking around the area.
“This new arcade, cmon, I’ll drive us.”
The two of you are in front of his beaten down Toyota, although it looks pretty clean from the inside. You thought Riki’s car would be an absolute mess, but it seemed like he was a clean freak when you opened the door to the smell of vanilla and cinnamon.
“You actually clean your car?”
“I’m offended you thought I didn’t sweets!” He says, frowning. “Thankfully, I don’t hold grudges.”
He puts the key in, hands tapping against his leather seat. “Wanna tell me why you’re so sad?”
He places a hand on the head of your seat, body twisting back with one hand on the wheel to pull out of his parking spot. He looked incredibly handsome doing such a basic task that it almost made your ability to speak go away.
“I got a 68 on my physics test.” You say, shoulders defeated.
“No way.” He continues driving, eyes glancing back and forth from the road to you. “Mr. Yuji’s class right? Fucking hate him.”
“Yeah well, I do too.”
Riki takes a road that you’re unfamiliar with, and he suddenly stops the car in front of a house.
“What are you doing Riki?” You say, watching as he opens his trunk and leaves the car.
“Doing something I should’ve done a long time ago.”
He pulls out a bat, and your eyes widen when he smashes it against a mailbox, crushing it in completely.
“Holy shit!” You shriek, eyes widening as Riki throws back the bat into the trunk, closing it with a loud bang.
He runs back to the car, slamming the door behind him.
“And that’s for Y/N motherfucker!” He yells before driving off, his boyish laughter could be heard from a distance.
“You’re crazy.” You breathe out, body still in shock from what you witnessed. “Who’s mailbox was that?”
“Mr. Yuji’s.” He smirks, eyes still on the road. “Let’s just say—this isn’t the first time I’ve been to his residence.”
“Wow.” You rest your head against Riki’s cold windows, still taking in what just happened. “Thank you?”
“You’re welcome sweets.” He smiles, teeth practically shinning like the movies. “Now how about that arcade I promised you earlier?”
.♡.
After hanging out with Riki at the arcade on Monday, you realized the boy wasn’t as bad as you thought.
He had won you a gigantic brown teddy bear, a cliché that you never thought would have happened to you after failing your physics exam.
He made you name it James The Third, and made you promise that it was your child and you had to take care of it while he was away.
“I heard you hung out with Nishimura this weekend!” You swore nothing could go past Byeol, who was currently geeking at the sudden news of you and Riki being so close.
“Shh, keep your voice down!”
Byeol wiggles her eyebrows, giggling at your stressed state. “You two are so cute! Opposites attract!”
You start to walk away from her, using the excuse that class has started. Sure Riki was handsome and weirdly—nice—you weren’t sure what your feelings about him were yet.
“Hi.”
You basically flinch out of your seat when you see him right next to you. He had a can of soy milk and a slice of chocolate cake with him.
“I brought you soy milk, hopefully you like it.”
You give him a small smile, not trusting your words enough to actually speak. Thankfully for you, the teacher entered right after, starting her lesson on trigonometry.
“Nishimura Riki, do you really have to eat in my class?” The teacher stops writing, placing her chalk on the board as she stares directly into Riki’s eyes.
He looks up from the bangs poking at his eyes, giving the teacher a stupid smile.
“Yes Mrs. Park, I’m very hungry.”
“Very well.” She wants to scowl at Riki, you could tell by her furrowed eyebrows. But she doesn’t, instead, picking up her chalk again to continue the lesson.
3 minutes don’t even past when Riki’s chewing gets incredibly loud and obnoxious, making you place a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing.
“Is the chocolate cake that good, Riki?” The teacher asks, trying not to completely snap at the boy.
“It’s sooo good.” Riki says, smiling fully with his teeth.
The class blurts out in laughter and hysteria, making Mrs. Park practically crush the chalk that was in her hand.
“That’s it! Go outside Nishimura Riki!”
He rolls his eyes, standing up from his seat. “Fine, but I was just eating cake.”
He looks over to you, who was currently giggling underneath your breath. He gives you a small smile, flicking your forehead softly before leaving the room, leaving you a blushing mess.
.♡.
“Pssst.”
You turn around, already knowing who was on the other side.
Of course Nishimura Riki was there.
“I’ve got two tickets to see Arctic Monkeys, come with me Friday night?”
You shake your head softly. “Oh I don’t know Riki, I have to study.”
“Don’t say that sweets,” he groans, head slumping into your shoulder. “Have some fun!”
“Shhh!” You look around, thankful the librarian wasn’t here to scold you guys. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. Just be quiet.”
“Yay!” He cheers, and it’s the happiest you’ve ever seen of the boy. “I’ll pick you up, okay? Friday night, 8pm exactly.”
“Okay Riki,” you say. “I’ll see you.”
Friday comes by in a flash, and you weren’t sure what to wear to the concert.
Despite it being your last year of being a teenager, you still haven’t attended one. So you were in a real struggle to pick what would be perfect.
You decided to go with a plain black top and cream colored cargos that hugged your waist, one without straps so your shoulders could be out. You were sure it’d get hot in the concert with all the people that would be attending.
“You look cute.” Riki says as he rows down the window. “Get in.”
The stadium is only 20 minutes away from your house, and you’re starting to get nervous when you realize how many people were attending.
“Hey,” Riki says, taking ahold of your hand when he notices it shaking. “It’ll be the most fun night of your life. I promise.”
And he was right. Although you were sure you weren’t going to enjoy it all that much, you found yourself singing and swaying along to the music.
The stadium was dim, making the music hit even ten times harder.
When I wanna be yours started playing, your vision was focused on the band whereas Riki’s eyes were focused on you.
“Hey!” You giggle, catching him staring at you. “Focus on the music dummy! You’re the one who bought the tickets.”
“Yeah yeah,” he says, smiling ear to ear. “The concert’s great and all but you’re even better.”
You don’t get to question his words before he crashes his lips onto yours with the lyrics wanna be yours blasting in the background.
2K notes · View notes
rosequarzo · 16 days
Text
that boy is mine.
૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა • ! alhaitham + reader reader is female established relationship modern + college au ☆ warning not proofread . . . !? & 1064— catalogue
note. listening to that boy is mine gave me an idea so, here you go. this is so messy i hate this... i might delete but we'll see... tagging @rninies
Tumblr media
There is no doubt that Alhaitham is popular. Incredibly popular, in fact but not that you could blame them. Who wouldn’t fall victim to his handsome, stoic and quiet personality? It goes without saying that he has gathered a concerning figure of fans. Heck, there was even a fanclub made just for him. Dating the famous guy on campus proved to be a difficult task for you, since you have to restrain yourself from jumping on them whenever they looked at your boyfriend with a dreamy expression. 
No one knew that you were dating, no one other than your circle of friends of course. It was thanks to Kaveh barging into his roommate’s room without knocking the door, only to stumble upon the sight of Alhaitham hovering over you on the bed and the rest was history. Although, you were glad that your peers have known about your relationship, as it proves to be a difficult task trying to keep it low. 
“Hey, look. She’s trying again,” Cyno nudges you with his elbow, pointing ahead of him and you follow his direction with your eyes. 
The sight before you greets you with distaste and faint jealousy. It was none other than the newly-transferred student, approaching your boyfriend and attempting to engage him in a conversation. Keyword: attempting. Everyone knew how Alhaitham was; ignoring the public but when it comes to you, his focus was entirely on you; like you were the only one that matters to him. Kaveh sniggered; amused with how Alhaitham was ignoring the student, focused on reading his book. 
“Don’t you get tired of people chasing after your boyfriend?” Kaveh asked, reaching out to steal your fries, only to flinch when you slapped his hand away. 
“No, not really. In fact, I found it funny and chose to watch for my entertainment,” you shrugged your shoulders, focused on observing the scene unfold itself from the sidelines. 
None of you could hear what the student was saying, due to the distance between the two of you but you could tell she was starting to become irritated, judging from the way she furrowed her eyebrows and her lips curling downwards. The next thing you knew, she had the audacity to pull him back when Alhaitham was about to leave. The mere sight of their hands touching made you see red. You shot up from your seat, startling your friends and they watched, dumbfounded as you stormed your way towards them. 
“Uh, do you think we should stop (Name)?” Kaveh asked, getting worried about what’s about to happen. 
“Nah, this is going to be good,” Cyno shook his head, pulling out his phone and getting ready to record the chaos. Tighnari merely lets out an exasperated sigh, feeling a headache forming. 
“...think you are doing? Let me go,” Alhaitham’s annoyed voice rung through your ears as you got closer to them. 
The student huffs, standing her ground and meets his eyes with a defiant gaze in them. “Look, why are you not interested in me? I can be anything you want and besides, there’s no harm in giving us a try.” 
Alhaitham scowls, eyes narrowing. “I’m afraid you’re misunderstanding something. There is no us.” 
“But-” 
“Hey, do you mind letting him go?” You interrupted, standing behind the girl and flashed her a closed-eye smile; a smile that was anything but friendly. 
You saw how your boyfriend’s eyes widened slightly, surprised to see you but you ignored him, focused on getting rid of the unwanted presence standing between the two of you. The student fully turned, eyeing you up and down with disgust written all over her face. 
“And who are you supposed to be? We’re having a conversation here,” she asked. 
You arched an eyebrow. “I’m his girlfriend, you dumb bitch. Don’t make me repeat myself: let him go.” 
It seems like she was more stubborn than you thought, for she didn't believe your words and laughed. “You’re his girlfriend? Yeah right, like I believe that.” 
Humming, you walked around her to stand beside Alhaitham. You could see how your friends were looking at you from the corner of your eyes. At this point, everyone nearby was looking at you and why not put on a little show for them? Without warning, you grabbed your boyfriend by the collar of his shirt, harshly tugging him down and kissed him fully on the lips. Your abrupt action elicited a high-pitched scream from Kaveh and a round of startled sounds from the public. If you listened closely, you could make out the faint cheering sound from Cyno. 
The kiss ended as fast as it happened, much to Alhaitham’s disappointment. When you pulled away, you were greeted with the satisfying sight of the student staring at you, rendered speechless. Her eyes were wide open to the point they might have popped out from its sockets. You smiled and shot her an arrogant grin.
“Well? Does that answer your question?” You taunt. 
Utterly humiliated in front of everyone, she had no choice but to flee the scene. The nearby people soon went back to minding their business once the drama had ended, and the two of you returned to where your friends were. 
“Wow, I didn’t know you had that in you. Not bad,” Kaveh gave you a thumbs-up before turning to his roommate who sat down beside you. 
“So Alhaitham, how does it feel now that your relationship is exposed?” He asked. 
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” he retorted, his hand moving to rest on your thigh underneath the table; hidden from everyone’s eyes. 
“Tch, you and that shitty personality of yours,” the blond grumbled, making you laugh. 
“All’s well that ends well. Hopefully no one will dare to confess to you anymore,” you pointed out and your words made a faint smirk form on Alhaitham’s handsome face. 
“Don’t tell me you were jealous,” he taunts, faint mischief glimmered in his eyes. 
“I was not,” you defended yourself, hating how he had turned the tables on you. 
“Uh huh, whatever you say love,” he nods his head, obviously not buying your lie. 
The sudden pet name used made your cheeks flushed red followed by Kaveh making disgusted sounds in front of the two of you. “Ew, you two should get a room.” 
“We did but due to a certain someone, our time-”
“Alhaitham!” 
432 notes · View notes
phfenomena · 4 months
Text
❝i hope i was your favorite crime.❞ || coriolanus snow x f!reader
Tumblr media
| request- hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.
| A/N- i wanted so bad to make sooooo angsty but i fought the demons. def ooc everybody besides festus. fuck you festus. hope you like it as much as i do 🫶🏻
| WARNINGS- alcohol consumption, creepy men, bad fathers (relatable), nice coriolanus snow, festus creed (he deserves a warning), eating, making out, traumatized sejanus (im sorry sejanus i love you)
Tumblr media
the eldest plinth daughter. not an heir, but something you’d want to marry into. if you could get her, you’d never need to do anything again in your life. coriolanus knew that, he reveled in that. he’d never met her, all the times he went over to the plinth’s apartment she was either out or the door to her bedroom was tightly locked- not accepting visitors.
he wondered what she did with her time, was she in university? sejanus seems to never talk about his sister unless someone asks. but yet here she was. a floor length silver dress caught coriolanus’ eye, turning his head to follow the figure. she stood tall and confidently next to her brother. his eyes cascaded over the entire family, all in the same tantalizing silver. they were brightly shining in the ballroom of the benefit. it’d be hard to ignore them. he hated that.
he studied her, they way he could almost see a resemblance to sejanus but feeling as if he’s grasping at straws. her left hand holding a champagne glass she hasn’t drank from, and her right hand resting on sejanus’ shoulder. she’s nodding along to whatever nonsense pup harrington is spitting at her, no doubt making a pass.
she excuses herself and points at her glass, which is now empty after having to listen to the poor boy. when she reaches the full glasses lined up on the table coriolanus makes his move. “hello, ms.plinth.” her head turns to him and her eyes narrow. “coriolanus snow. my brothers supposed best friend- where’s tigris? i like her.” she quickly downs the glass and reaches for another. coriolanus can feel the disdain for him leaking out of her pores.
“she’s, um, she’s back at home. with grandma’am. she is quite nice to be around, isn’t she? how are you enjoying your night?” he attempts to flip the conversation back to her- oh wait, she’s not even looking at him anymore. her eyes find sejanus’ as he’s talking to livia cardew, and she begins walking in his direction. “nice talking to you, coriolanus.” but he felt like it definitely wasn’t nice. was he wanting to marry her for her money? yes. but was she also beautiful and apparently quite funny, as ma plinth has said? also yes.
she spent the rest of night collecting champagne glasses and not leaving sejanus’ side. even he was beginning to get bothered by the bachelors approaching his sister. she leaned against the back wall, yes, another glass in hand. she’d gotten roped into a conversation with festus, clearly tortuous. coriolanus was standing with sejanus about a foot away, so sejanus could keep and eye on festus.
“it’s just so frustrating, coryo! all these guys coming up and trying to make a pass at my sister while i’m right there, if i didn’t know any better i would’ve taken pup harrington outside. you should’ve heard some of the stuff he was saying to her. it’s horrible.” sejanus rants while staring at festus. “well, she’s gonna have to get married eventually, sejanus.” coriolanus says with a slight smile to his bestfriend.
“i know that, just none of these guys. we’ve been everyday with them at the academy. you know how bad they are, the shit they say about women in general. i don’t want those guys with her.” it’s obvious he’s quite over protective of her, even though she’s three years older than him. coriolanus nods along with him and pats his back.
“i’ll go save her.” coriolanus comforts his friend and makes his way to festus. “sejanus said he needed your opinion on some ideas for the food, seemed urgent.” she nods and offers a knowing smile to coriolanus. festus leans his head on the wall “man! i really felt like i was getting somewhere with her” coriolanus rests a hand on his shoulder. “trust me, you definitely weren’t.”
the party has picked up and died down, everyone sitting to eat but coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out where she was. she wasn’t sitting with her family and unless she had friends he didn’t know, he couldn’t see her anywhere. he’d made his way outside to take a breather from all the talking and hugging old people who knew his parents.
that’s when his eyes laid upon the girl in the silver dress, and he took a seat next to her on the steps. she’s staring out into the gardens and her eyes are glazed over. no champagne glass in her hand this time. she doesn’t turn to look at him.
“i’m really drunk right now and i hate almost everyone in there. all they care about is money and those stupid hunger games.” she confided in him and rested her chin on her arms that are wrapped around her knees. “yeah, you didn’t look like you were having a great time. i tried counting how many glasses you had but i lost count after ten.” she lightly laughed and shook her head.
“i think it was thirteen but i’m not sure, i drank four while festus was chirping in my ear about how many children he wanted.” she feigned chills at the mention of his name and they laughed. she turned to look at him with a barley noticeable smile “you’re not like them, are you? you’re more like sejanus. quiet and doesn’t bother women they want to marry.” the comparison of sejanus would normally upset him, but coming from her it felt the highest compliment a man could receive.
she rubbed her hands over her arms to conserve warmth and coriolanus quickly removed his blazer to wrap around her and she muttered a small thanks. resuming her staring at the gardens. “would you like to grab you some water? or something to eat? it’s not gonna be very good for you tomorrow morning if you don’t eat something.” he whispers towards and she nods her head.
as coriolanus is walking back in, the plinths are walking out. “hey coryo. we’re heading home for the night as ma doesn’t feel too well, have you seen-“ coriolanus points outside “she’s on the steps, make sure she eats something when you get home. way too much champagne for a human.” seianus claps his hand against coriolanus’ chest and continues outside.
the sun is battering down on the capitol but the plinths home is cooler than a beautiful spring day, probably for the hungover girl inside. coriolanus knocks on the door and smiles as his eyes meet ma’s. “oh! coriolanus, it’s so good to see you. we didn’t talk much last night. come in! i just finished up some pies!” she ushers him inside as sejanus joins them in his mothers corner of the kitchen.
after the grueling and quite long conversation with ma coriolanus excused himself. sejanus seemingly interested in this new sugar ma had found. as coriolanus rounded the corner to her room, he stopped. suddenly feeling quite nervous and as if he might throw up. her bedroom door opened and her eyes meet his, he looks down and she’s holding his blazer out. “i heard you talking to ma, here this.” her calloused tone returns, maybe she only likes him she’s drunk. he better find a lot more champagne.
the plinth family plus coriolanus are sitting in the sun room, drinking iced tea and munching on whatever treats ma had baked. “so, coriolanus, do you have any plans on getting married after university?” strabo’s deep and rough voice cut over his wife’s story.
coriolanus set his tea down “i’d hope so, certainly.” his eyes skip between strabo and his daughter. she’s sitting with her knees pulled up to chest and she’s looking out the window. “well you know how much we’d love to have you in the family, we could arrange your marriage with-“ she sets her cup down harshly and stands up.
“you always do this! could you just leave me alone? maybe i don’t want to get married, ma said it was fine if i didn’t marry.” she’s waving her hands around and waits for him to answer. when she’s met with silence she storms out and slams the sunroom door. “strabo, you can’t make her marry someone she doesn’t love.” someone she doesn’t love.
coriolanus stands up and thanks them for the tea. “tigris wanted to head to the market and i’d never let her go alone, i’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”
he walks by her door and tries the handle, quietly. he fully expected it to be locked but the door swings open and she’s laying face down on the bed. “sejanus, go away.” she grumbled through her mattress. “it’s not sejanus.” she sighs and sits up, staring at him.
“do you not knock before entering a room?” she tilted her head and studied him. “i expected it to be locked, sorry. i’ll knock next time.” his eyes seem to gravitate towards the floor and he can’t will himself to bring them back up.
“i’m sorry about my father. i’m sure it made you very uncomfortable, he’s just always trying to marry me off.” her hands fidget awkwardly in her lap. “i wasn’t too uncomfortable, any guy would be lucky to marry you. i always heard that you were quite mean, i’ve yet to see that.”
she scoffed and turned her head to the window. “they only say that because i don’t hesitate to speak my mind. i taught sejanus that. i am definitely what they call me, but only to them.” why does she feel so comfortable spilling her guts to him?
“i saw you and sejanus’ sister a few minutes ago, coriolanus. are you willing to deal with her grating voice and attitude for the plinths money?” arachne sneers towards him and the group laughs. “it helps that she’s pretty, it’s already hard enough trying to talk to her.” coriolanus regrets it the second it escapes his mouth.
she liked him. she really did like coriolanus snow, but who doesn’t? she weaved her way through the crowd trying to escape him. he was hot on her trail until he catches up to her in one of the various bedrooms inside the ravinstalls estate.
“do you think i’m stupid, coriolanus? be honest.” he scrambles to find the words but his brain couldn’t function in the one moment he desperately needed it. “i said you were different, i talked to you about things i liked, i would tell ma all about you. but you aren’t different, you’re just like the others.” he ran his hand through his hair. “i was different, i am different. i don’t know why i said that, it just came out. i didn’t mean it, i promise.”
he attempted to take her hand but she ripped out of his grasp and stomped out of the room. shit.
the next day her door was locked. and the next. and the next. he wasn’t even sure she was there anymore. sejanus hasn’t mentioned anything but he wished he would. he wished he would tell him if she was okay or if he majorly screwed up.
as coriolanus and sejanus sit in the sunroom attempting to study, there’s a knock on the door. coriolanus cranes his neck to see festus ravinstill standing there with a bouquet of flowers. god, this kid is tragic. but then he sees you, take the flowers with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. strabo’s never looked happier.
coriolanus suffered in silence watching festus become a daily guest and drowning out sejanus’ complaints about him being there. for once in his life, he agreed with sejanus. when he enters the kitchen to refill his glass of lemonade he sees her watering the plants in the kitchen.
“don’t marry him. he won’t be good to you.” she drops her head and turns to him. “and you would?” she spits back sending him into a whirlwind. “yes.” he whispers out and she takes a few steps closer to him. “festus is nice and fathers happy with this. i don’t have another choice, coriolanus. i have to do this” how does she always sound so sure of herself? maybe coriolanus could take a class from her.
their eyes finally meet, after weeks of not seeing her eyes, she’s finally looking at him. “you could marry me, instead. i wouldn’t treat you like a prize, like festus would.” she steps impossibly closer and he feels like he can’t breathe when she’s around. oxygen becomes molasses and his knees become jelly.
she looks over coriolanus’ shoulder and stands up on her toes to kiss him. he takes a moment to catch on but he his hands find purchase on her waist and he leans down. all nerves thrown out the window and all he can think of is her, how she tastes, how she smells, he can’t even remember who festus is.
her hands wind his curly hair around her fingers as she swipes her tongue against his own and he pushes her against the refrigerator, causing a few magnets to fall onto the floor. his hands are trailing up and down the waist of the yellow dress she had decided to wear that day.
festus had left the plinths the second he saw her look at him over coriolanus’ shoulder. knowing he lost and there’s nothing he could’ve done.
she pulls back, panting. “i’ll marry you, just don’t call me annoying again.” her lipstick is smeared across both of their mouths and he gives her a dopey smile. “i wouldn’t dream of it” he brushes stray hair out of her face.
“in the kitchen?! we make food there!” sejanus is standing in the doorway, seemingly traumatized. “sorry, sej.” he shakes his head walking away but throwing a secretive thumbs up at coriolanus.
844 notes · View notes
seichira · 11 months
Text
is it just me?
Tumblr media
itoshi rin is tormented by the lingering ghosts of your tragic breakup. he is cold and he lives with the burden of missing you. he wonders if you are hurting too, or is it just him?
pairing : itoshi rin x reader
content : hurt and comfort. exes to lovers. messy breakup. accusations of cheating (no actual cheating). insecurities. mentions of alcohol. cursing.
Tumblr media
it’s one in the morning and rin is surrounded by his friends and acquaintances but still, he feels cold. even with the alcohol in his system that he drank to purposely warm him, it’s cold.
it has been this way for nearly a year now. eleven months and a couple weeks, if anyone is counting. a few days more and it would be the anniversary of your breakup.
the nearer it gets to twelve months without you, the colder it gets. right now, even with the perfectly working heater in one of his teammate’s penthouse, rin shivers.
it’s cold.
he never thought it could be this cold.
rin knows why he feels like this. he knows exactly why he wakes up and goes to bed alone. the reason why his life is dull and empty is not a secret to him—he just won’t acknowledge it.
he refuses to admit to himself that the reason why he has been suffering for the past eleven months of his life is because you’re not here.
how could he admit it? how could he ever address that your absence it what causes his pitiful state, when he brought it upon himself.
it was his fault that you’re not here. he wanted this. well, he had thought that he wanted this.
there is no way he could welcome the thought that he misses you when he was the one who drove you away, right? there is no use.
it’s too late now. all he could do is go out with his teammates on nights like this and pretend as if he wasn’t freezing from the inside out.
“damn, this is so boring,” seishiro sits down beside him on the sofa and rin tenses at the presence of the white-haired boy.
he does not know what to do because among everyone else in this crowded room, you are most connected to nagi seishiro. your best friend. and he has long been your best friend before you and rin even got together.
how is rin supposed to act around the person who is still in your life while he himself isn’t? this man seated next to him knows where you are right now and what you have been doing, while rin has absolutely no idea how you are.
“didn’t think i’d see you here, itoshi,” nagi speaks again. rin hums in acknowledgment, “thought it wouldn’t be so bad to come.”
there is this unspoken understanding between them, that both of them are thinking about you. after all, aside from soccer, all they have in common is their connection to you.
nagi debates whether he should tell you that he saw rin tonight or keep it to himself so as to not instigate negative feelings from you.
rin wonders if he should start asking about you. he decides against it and pretended to busy himself with his cellphone to avoid further conversation with your best friend.
he convinces himself that he does not care. he acts like he doesn’t want to know how you are. he tries to make himself believe that as long as he can fake it, it will somehow be true.
jokes on him, really.
meguru approaches nagi next to him and rin is planning to ignore him like he usually does, but the words that comes out of meguru’s mouth made that utterly impossible.
“nagi! i saw y/n by the bookstore earlier this afternoon, didn’t you ask her to come? i invited her but she said you didn’t mention anythin’ about a party!”
the mere mention of your name makes rin’s heart stop. it has been a very long time since he heard someone mention your name casually around him. now that your name has been dropped, everything comes crashing down on him, and he cannot breathe.
“oh, damn, i’m sorry—“ bachira seems to notice his mistake upon not seeing rin next to nagi. they know not to carelessly throw your name around because at first, it affected his performance. now, it is apparent that you affect him in and out of the game.
“excuse me.”
rin is cold. it’s like ice is running through his veins as he stands up and rushes to leave the suffocating penthouse.
rin runs out to the street and for the first time since he lost you, he names the sinking feeling in his stomach that won’t go away.
for the first time since you walked out the door of your shared apartment, rin finally admits it.
he misses you.
he is longing for you like how the moon misses the sun but never meets it enough. it burns and it is freezing all at the same time because when you were here, he felt nothing but the assurance of your love.
he runs, and runs, and runs. it’s dark and it’s cold, but he runs. he runs in hopes that he could change the past. he runs with the burning desire to correct his faults and take back all the hurt he inflicted on you.
maybe then, you’d be here.
maybe then, it wouldn’t be so cold.
Tumblr media
“are you seriously accusing me of that, rin? are you hearing yourself right now?” the hurt was evident in your tone as you watched the love of your life with all of his guards up.
his glares were accusing as if what he saw was an unforgivable betrayal. he had seen you talking to his brother, sae, and rin was quick to act out of pure rage and jealousy.
“you were flirting with my fucking brother!” he spat out, and he knew it was irrational.
he knew he was wrong about and that you would never be able to do that to him, but his years of pent up frustration and hatred towards his brother made it impossible to remember his trust in you.
“and i already told you i wasn’t, rin. i was talking to him. i bumped into him at the coffee shop while i was getting your usual morning drink when he saw me and i sat down for a little chat! that was all, baby. believe me.”
you deserved an award with how well you held up, with how patient you were with him despite his hurtful accusations towards you.
no one else understood him like you did, and you knew to be more patient with him in times like these. you were aware of how his brother affected him and how he just needed someone to stick with him through it.
“well, fuck that! you shouldn’t have been with him in the first place! sae wants everything that i have and now, he’s tryna get you too!”
it almost made you flinch, with his tone rising and his voice getting louder. he is furious, and you try to disregard the sting of his words now that his fury is directed at you.
“i’m sorry, alright? it wasn’t my intention to hurt you, rin. he’s your brother and i thought it would be nice to ask him how he is and—“
rin cut you off like he couldn’t comprehend a word that you were saying. “that’s bullshit and you know it! just fuckin’ tell me the truth! that like everyone and everything else, you’re gonna leave me for him!”
it frustrated you that he blocked all your explanations out. you were growing weary with the accusations thrown at you, but you continued. you continued to reason with him because you knew him. you knew he needed someone to stay. and above all, you tried further because you were in love with him.
you loved rin three years before you finally got together. your two years together made that five. that was five years of your life being deeply in love with someone whom you thought was going to be your husband and the father of your kids.
that amount of time may not be much when viewed through the generations of people who loved each other, but for the both of you, those five years were enough to build a life and create an ideal future with the other.
so, yeah. it never occurred to you to give up in that argument. there was no chance in hell that you would leave him high and dry.
“it’s not like that, rin. i am never going to leave you for anyone, much less for your brother! i need you to listen to me! we talked! that’s it!”
“you’re lying to me. i know it.”
you shake your head in exhaustion. “i talk, and i talk, and i talk—and you don’t hear a thing.” a lone tear falls from your eye without realizing.
his sharp stare does not falter. all he could see was red. the scene of you and sae together replayed over and over again in his mind.
you, the person he loved most, with the person who took everything away from him. it killed him to imagine a future where it is not you and him, but you and sae.
“i’m in love with you. only you. i cannot see myself with anyone else and i thought you knew that, rin. i get that your brother strikes a vein in you but don’t i at least deserve to be heard? we’re better than this.”
“yeah? and i thought you’d be better than acquainting with sae like that. you knew how i felt about him, and you did this? fuck that.”
rin walked out on you that night without another word. it felt like he also walked out on your relationship because he started training more. this meant leaving before you even woke up and going home when you were fast asleep.
during those weeks when rin avoided you like the plague despite living under one roof, you felt completely alone and isolated. you were lonely. he spoke to you in words, and he treated you as if your encounter with sae was enough for him to give it all up.
until one day, he comes home to a living room full of bags and boxes. you were there, waiting for him with a tired smile on your face.
for the first time, rin realized that the black circles under your eyes have grown where they weren’t before. he noticed that you are all cried out and now, you’ve got no tears to shed as you leave him.
“w-what’s all this?”
“i’m leaving. i’m sorry for not getting out of your hair faster. it was really hard to look for another apartment that was within my budget but don’t worry, i figured it out.”
“leaving? leaving me? leaving… this house?” which one is it? or fuck, is it both?
“mhm. i f-figured it’s not healthy for us to live under the same roof after everything. i wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your own space just because i’m here, so…”
did you really think he wanted you to leave? he wanted to explain. he wanted to tell you that he only acted that way because he was hurt and he was guilty! you don’t have to leave!
but he’s frozen from where he stood. the sight of all your stuff packed up and ready to go was a little bit too much for him.
you stood from where you were seated among the bags and boxes, and you stop in front of him. again, you smile gracefully, in contrast to the breaking heart that almost killed you.
“and rin? i’m sorry again for what happened with sae. i should’ve known better than to do that to you, and i understand that you don’t want to do anything with me because of that.”
he shook his head but you missed it because you walked past him with some of your bags in your hand. “y/n, no. i—“
you hear it and for a moment, you delude yourself into thinking that he will ask you to stay. but he doesn’t continue.
he stops because how could he ask you to stay after how he treated you? it was his fault for not listening and in the end, it was you who apologized? in what fucking universe do i deserve this angel, huh?
he doesn’t stop you from leaving because in that very moment, the thought of you finally escaping from him and his hurtful treatment towards you didn’t seem so bad.
“so, i guess… i’ll see you around. nagi will be around to grab my remaining stuff, so try not to kill each other, yeah?” you try to play it off cool, mask the fact that inside, everything is falling apart.
rin nods but he stayed with his back facing you. until the end, he did not have the guts to face you. to face what he had done to you and your relationship.
suddenly, everything grew cold. everything lost their color. the empty corners of where your warmth used to be mocked him.
for nearly a year since then, he has lived and suffered with the mistakes he did. he didn’t know what to tell people when they started asking about you. he didn’t know how to ride the train without holding your hand. he didn’t know how to be soaked in the shower without letting his tears flow freely.
he wondered endlessly as he daydreamed of speaking to you again: are you hurting too, or is it just me?
Tumblr media
his endless running brings him to your street where you moved when you left him. his feet takes him farther than he expected because this street is on the opposite part of town from your shared apartment, a telltale sign that you tried to get as far away as possible.
evidently, it is not far enough because on your way home from the convenience store, you run into your ex-boyfriend. rin is first to notice your presence, and instead of freezing up like he did when you left, he walks up to you.
“rin?” you are confused and nervous. after all, the last time you had seen him was almost a year ago. you never tried to see him again.
“it hurts.”
the two words he just confessed are two words that he has never said together in a sentence ever in his life. itoshi rin never admits it when something is hurting him. he never tells anyone when he is in pain.
for him to say that now, it is a cry for you to soothe him in a way that only you could, and you know this because you know him better than the back of your hand.
standing a meter away from you underneath a street lamp, itoshi rin confesses his truth.
“it hurts, y/n. it hurts without you. it feels like i can’t breathe. it is so cold without you. it hurts so badly. i thought i could live with it eventually—but i can’t. it only gets worse.”
rin sees your shoulders shake in your attempt to conceal your sobs but you are failing miserably, and so does he. you don’t say anything and rin figures that’s fair.
you already tried to talk. you already told him everything you needed to hear on the night of the fight that ruined your relationship. it’s his turn to tell you everything you deserve to hear.
but he isn’t as good as you when it comes to words. he thinks about how he accused you of cheating on him. he thinks about how he shut you out and left you feeling lonely. he thinks about every day that he could have chased after you but didn’t. he thinks about all of that and he thinks about how he’s sorry.
and he manages to get that last part out, hoping that you would get it. hoping that the deep-rooted connection between the two of you is enough to let you know what he means.
“i’m sorry.”
you drop your groceries to the ground and you close the meter of distance between the two of you. you welcome him in his arms but he wraps his arms around you tighter than you welcomed him, because he is afraid that if he doesn’t, he will lose you again.
“that is all i needed to hear from you, rin. i never wanted much from you. just you and your love. i just needed to know that you still felt that for me, and when i didn’t… i had no other choice to walk away.”
rin nods against your neck and you feel his tears staining your shoulder. “i’m sorry. forgive me, please. i love you. i love you. and i trust you. more than anyone, baby. i promise.”
“you know i could never hurt you like you thought i did—“ you recalled, but rin cuts you off because he can’t bear another second of you defending yourself when you shouldn’t be.
“i know. i know.”
his embrace around you tightens, and he does not care if anyone could look out from their windows and see the soccer star practically begging for you in the middle of the night. not when he is in your arms again after months of only dreaming about it and wishing for it.
“it hurt too much without you too, rin. i had to remind myself that i can’t run to you for warmth. i took everything in me not to throw away my dignity to beg you to bring me back.”
that answers his question.
in his absence, you were hurting too. your separation killed you just like how it killed him.
“no. no—don’t have to beg for it, baby. i should be on my knees to thank you for even taking me back like this because—shit—i swear that i wouldn’t have lasted another day.”
you run your hands through his hair before briefly pulling away to cup his cheek in your hands, and he fondly leans on your touch.
“for the entire year, i thought it was just me who longed for you, rin.”
you couldn’t be any more wrong.
“i begged the stars and the skies for this very moment. it wasn’t just you.”
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
roseykat · 6 months
Text
KINKTOBER DAY 9
Tumblr media
TITLE: Don't bite the hand that feeds you
PAIRING: Seungmin x reader
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.
SUMMARY: Featuring Seungmin as your lecturer's student assistant who runs your tutorials and possesses just as harsh a personality as he fucks.
TAGS: Mean tutor Seungmin, oral sex (f!reader receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, swearing.
KINK: Freelance
KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST
TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @queenmea604
A/N: this is for all the Seungmin stans out there x
There isn’t any way to work around a more stubborn person. People that you’ve met before don’t even come close to the level of arrogance that this person carries with them. That person being one of your tutors for a class at Uni, Seungmin. For some reason, he always has the time of day to help other people but has an issue with your supposed incompetence in completing a task when it comes to you. 
Seungmin never checks your work, never goes over your answers, discusses your ideas or anything like that. He has a very prickly attitude yet only those needles are only for you. You see the sigh he lets out whenever you need to approach him to clarify something he went over during the tutorial. You see the crease between his eyebrows as the annoyance grows when you ask if he can read a draft of yours before you submit it. 
He never does that with other students. Seungmin is happy to help them, makes conversation with them before class, and always seems to have time for them. 
The difference in his behaviour towards you definitely placed an unnecessary burden on your shoulders. But you’re not one to budge. Whether his intentions are malicious or not, you’re not exactly an easy one to crack, which is why you continued to supposedly ‘bother’ him. 
“Hey,” you approach him after one of his tutorials, hoping you used a good enough manner to not light a fire under his seat. “Would you be able to check this for me?”
Seungmin furrows his eyebrows - not a good sign, and averts his eyes from the whiteboard to look at your paper, “I can’t help you with that.”
“And why is that?” You question. “You had no trouble looking at everyone else’s. How’s mine any different?”
“Judging from your grades, I’d suspect there would be a lot of differences,” he responds.
“I’ll take that as a compliment since I’m one of the top in the class thank you,” you scoff. 
“And one of the top most arrogant too,” Seungmin fires back. “If you haven’t got anything relevant to show me, I suggest you leave. The next tutorial group starts in twenty minutes.” 
Your face contorts slightly, “well since this isn’t relevant enough for you, is it possible for you to check over one of the drafts we have to send in on Friday?”
“Can’t do that either-“
“Then what can you do exactly?” You cut him off impatiently. “Seriously, I’ve been trying to ask you for help for the past two weeks and you’ve only ever given me vague answers to my questions and you won’t proofread any of my work which is what you’re here to do.”
Seungmin takes off his glasses and closes the distance between himself and you, “I don’t help out entitled people like you who always demand things.”
You glare up at him, “I’m not entitled. I was just merely commenting about the fact that you don’t do what you’re being paid to do.”
“And you just keep proving my point as to why you are entitled, because you don’t shut up and you always complain. After every tutorial, you come up to me and ask me for something.” 
“Yeah, just like everyone else and yet, I don’t see you giving the same shit to them as you do to me,” you argue right back with him. 
“That’s because you expect things to be handed to you on a silver plate. Unlike them, you don’t work for your shit with me,” Seungmin responds, placing the cap on the whiteboard marker a little bit too rough. 
“Being here is me working for my shit,” you press back. “You’re just being a stubborn ass because you don’t like me.”
“Well you’re right with one thing,” he sighs.
You roll your eyes and scoff, “fuck you honestly.” 
It took a lot of effort not to just shove Seungmin out of your way as you headed out the door with a fresh stormy cloud looming over your head. Felix could spot it a mile away when you went to meet up with him for lunch nearby after his class too. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks carefully, studying the pained expression on your face. 
“Nothing,” you sigh, trying to let it go. “Just one of my stupid tutors.”
“Is this the same one that isn’t doing his job properly?” Felix questions, remembering the conversation you both had about him a while back. 
“Bingo.”
“You know, he’s probably dealing with things in the background that you don’t know about,” Felix points out, his habit of always giving people the benefit of the doubt starting to shine through. 
“Yeah, pretty sure he’s dealing with ‘absolute fucking dickhead disorder’,” you spit. “And even if he was - even if the worst is happening to him, he has no right to be taking out his anger or frustration on me.” 
Felix sports a disappointed look on his face, “is it just you, or are there others?”
“It’s just me, I swear.”
“Okay, I believe you,” Felix assures. “If he really is as bad as you say he is, maybe just ignore him. We’ve only got seven weeks left, that’s not too long until you can get away from him, yeah?” 
It was easier said than done, because the next round of tutorials that approached in the following week, opened up that fresh wound of just seeing Seungmin’s face and dreading it. All of Felix’s advice went out the gate, almost like it was never there in the first place.
In the end, you simply chose not to speak. What’s the point in arguing with a person who won’t move?
So right after the tutorial, you don’t bother darting straight to Seungmin and asking for his help. He’s not willing to give it to you so there’s no point in lingering behind. As you pack your things up from the table and start to head out, Seungmin peers at you from behind the glasses that you so badly want to knock off his face sometimes. 
He’s not entirely stumped that you haven’t approached him, but he is a bit intrigued. Maybe he had come across too strongly with you the other day - maybe within the past month without being of any help to you at all. Then again, Seungmin isn’t the most apologetic of people. 
“Surprised you’re not asking me to check anything for you,” he projects his voice to you just before you leave the class. 
You heard him on your way out, but what’s a retaliation going to do? Only add fuel to your own fire. Seungmin isn’t the one who’s got something to lose here. He’s just a student tutor who’s clearly got enough competence to reinforce the learning you receive during lectures. At the end of the day, his grades for this class aren’t on the line. Yours are. 
“Y/N,” you hear a voice call out to you, recognising it to be Felix. Caught up in the swirl of your own thoughts, you almost forgot Felix had been waiting for your tutorial to end as he sat in a row of seats against the wall. 
“Hey,” you call out to him. 
“So, how was it? Did you say anything to him?” He asks as you sit down beside him. 
“I just gave up,” you answer. “I forgot that you can’t get your point across to dickheads so I stopped trying. I’ll just go to the other classes' tutorials if they let me switch. Or maybe I can just cross-check my work with their tutor.”
“Geez, that bad is he?”
“The fucking worst,” you confirm.
However, you weren’t surprised to learn that Seungmin’s attitude and behaviour still continued in the following tutorial, close to an essay hand-in date which is what you didn’t need. The only saving grace is that instead of going over the content that you learned in an earlier lecture, Seungmin allowed his students to study for another upcoming in-class test in the upcoming week. 
You spent that time wisely working on the essay you needed to hand in since it was the first due. Then, by two o’clock, everyone started wrapping up their study session. You slot your books into your bag, zip it up, and ready to leave.
“You, come here,” Seungmin speaks in your direction, but you really don’t want to listen. At first to begin with, you were surprised he was even talking to you.
“And if I don’t?” 
“Don’t be stubborn. I want to talk about your assignment,” he replies. He set his bait and waited for you to take it. So you approach him hesitantly from your chair, leaving your bag behind at the table. 
“See, how hard was that?” 
You roll your eyes. Not even a full conversation in and he’s already made you reach your limit, “oh go fuck yourself.”
Upon hearing your nasty sentiment, Seungmin’s hand latches quickly onto your wrist, “what did you just say?”
You look down at your arm in disbelief, then back up to him, his eyes narrowing at you, “what?”
“Say it again.”
“I said; ‘go fuck yourself.”
“Fucking brat.” 
Without warning, Seungmin’s hands grasp the sides of your arms in a flash, backing you against the wall behind him. Out of nowhere, his mouth comes down and crashes against yours in a bruising kiss. There’s no time to process what’s actually going on when you start kissing him back, allowing his tongue to delve deeper into his mouth. 
In the back of your mind, you can’t believe your own actions, but at the same time, pushing back on him also feels like you’re letting some of that frustration go. To take things further, Seungmin breaks away from you for a moment, turning your body by your arms, and backs you straight into the desk until your hips hit the edge.
Your first instinct tells you to lean back while your legs automatically lift so that Seungmin can slot right in, pressing his semi-hard dick against your pussy. 
It gives you the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, trying to bring him in closer as you hope for more friction. Seungmin pins your wrists down to the desk, kissing along your jaw and down to your throat where he bites and sucks until there’s a line of future regretful hickies for you to deal with later on. 
“D-Do something,” you stammer, feeling so dizzy from the pleasure that you desperately start to chase. 
“Why should I?” He mumbles into your skin. 
You turn your head, watching figures of people pass by through the frosted glass of the door who could potentially walk in at any given time. In saying that, a portion of you recognises that there’s something so naughty about being caught in the act. 
“Please Seungmin,” you beg for him, feeding into his ego. 
His head rises from your neck, “that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say ‘please’.” 
You didn’t care what he meant by that. All you care about is relieving that itch inside the pit of your stomach because you know that horny feeling will take a long time to dissipate. Nonetheless, Seungmin seems to listen to you when he unbuttons the first two buttons of his white dress shirt. 
His fingers reach down to your jeans, unzipping them and yanking them right off your legs until you’re just left in your underwear, already soaking through. Seungmin uses the pad of his thumb to brush gently over the fabric which is sticky to the touch. It makes the corner of his mouth tug up. 
“Keep quiet if you don’t want people to come in,” he warns before taking his glasses off and placing them to the side of you before kneeling down. 
Your chest already starts heaving just feeling his warm breath fan across your inner thighs. The anticipation leading up to it has you clawing at the desk when Seungmin starts removing your underwear. 
“Look how fucking wet you are,” he speaks from a stance of astonishment just seeing what he was able to do to you from a simple makeout session and some rough and tumble. 
His comment turns you into a flustered mess that is easily shattered when Seungmin moves his mouth closer to your pussy, kissing your inner thigh and inching closer until he reaches your clit. Your back arches in an instant. One hand clasps over your mouth to stifle a loud moan at the heat of Seungmin’s mouth, the other grabs a fistful of his hair and starts tugging. He doesn’t dare hold back; sucking on your clit, lapping up at what he can to make your entire body shudder. 
It never occurred to you that Seungmin is like this. You’ve always made him out to be some rich, entitled, arrogant, teacher's pet with good grades and an outstanding reputation when he goes and does shit like this – eating you out in broad daylight, in public.
Whatever rabid spirit took over Seungmin, it wasn’t stopping him. His tongue dances perfect circles and random shapes against your clit, embracing your thighs quivering shamelessly around his head. 
“Oh my god, feels…feels so good,” you mutter, using every drop of energy you can to subdue the moans into whimpers. 
Not even the hand you’ve been trying to use to cover your mouth is working because when Seungmin keeps building you up to that edge, you increasingly become louder. But that’s all on him for initiating this, not that you’re complaining. Not when your head is just about thrashing back behind you on the wooden surface trying to syphon all the pleasure you’re getting. It’s like rouge electricity, a live wire inside of you that has no chance of being tamed. 
“Fuck, gonna make me cum,” you mumble, eyelids already fluttering. “So…good.”
Seungmin heard that as a sign to press his face further into your pussy but kept the same momentum and pace that his tongue uses to make you cum, and when you do, every ounce of pleasure pours into all the cells throughout your body. It rattles you in such a good way, that you forget how hard you’re tugging on Seungmin’s hair as he continues to eat you out through to the very end. But you managed to stay quiet – just. 
Your body unstiffens and your chest heaves up and down trying to catch air. The orgasm was so massive that afterwards, you couldn’t figure out what time it was or where you were. It nearly took out every bit of consciousness you had remaining. 
“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he rasps. 
Whatever that means – not that you can articulate it as of yet. You’re still trying to grapple with reality and when Seungmin unzips his pants to free his cock, you know there’s no point in trying.
He’s big in length and has a sizeable girth. He teases you with his tip, sliding up and down from your now oversensitive clit to your drenched hole. Just feeling how wet you are makes him wonder one thing:
“Are you a virgin?” He asks. 
You’re still trying to regain a bit of consciousness, only able to muster a few words at a time, “no...no I’m not.”
“I pinned it down to either that or someone hasn’t touched you in a while,” he responds. You groan at the embarrassment. Seungmin must obviously be that experienced for him to make such an observation. 
“The latter. Now just hurry up and fuck me.” 
“Shut up,” Seungmin snipes, even though he begins to push his cock inside of you at a terribly slow pace. 
You didn’t realise how much you had been aching to have someone inside you. Your own fingers can’t seem to do the right trick of actually feeling full and satisfied. But now that Seungmin is here, slowly thrusting in until he reaches the hilt, can he make you feel that way. 
“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin bites down on his lip and has to hold onto the edge of the desk beside your body for support. 
He’s never felt anything like it. Even after sleeping with other women prior to you in his past, there’s something about the way you feel that isn’t like the rest. Maybe it’s from the fact that you hadn’t been touched in a while or not, either way, Seungmin can’t contain himself when he starts thrusting properly. 
His cock glides in like melted butter, the lewd wet sounds making you want to hide from embarrassment. But Seungmin revels in it like it’s about to slip through his fingers like sand. So he lowers his body onto yours, resting some of his weight comfortably on you. It’s intimate yes, but it enables Seungmin to start whispering things in your ear. 
“So fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” He purrs. “Such a good girl for taking all of my cock, especially for someone who hasn’t been touched in a while. Just opened up for me so easily.” 
No words could ever spring to your mind in response to that, but it causes your body and mind to have a reaction you’re all too familiar with from about five minutes ago. That tingly feeling starts creeping up inside you the longer Seungmin keeps fucking you. His cock repetitively hits such a deep sweet spot that you don’t think anyone’s ever reached before. 
“S-Seungmin…it feels…fuck it feels so good,” you moan right in his ear, your arms clinging to his back. 
“Yeah?” He chuckles. “I bet it does with the way that you’re clenching around me.” 
Seungmin just keeps finding ways to unintentionally embarrass you, but if there’s one thing that he’s learnt about you and himself, it’s that he likes seeing you so flustered. He thinks it’s cute. In saying that, he doesn’t want to get too caught up in things when the euphoria that has already built itself impossibly high starts making itself known.
Just like you, Seungmin feels too good right now. He’s doused in warmth from the heat wrapping around his cock and the way that your walls keep involuntarily clamping around him. 
“S’too much…” you gasp for air, fingers digging into his clothed arms at this point. “M’gonna cum again please.”
Seungmin presses himself up away from your body but still thrusting at his same pace, “go on then. I want to see your face when you do.” 
It washes over you quickly and he’s fast to clock onto the small reactions beginning to change. The only thing that doesn’t alter is the fucked-out look you have on your face. That remains all the way up until the bliss starts packing its punch. Seungmin’s hips don’t hamper your orgasm, not when he watches your eyes roll back and sees the words to describe how you’re feeling become lodged in your throat. 
“Y-Yes!” you call out, your voice echoing throughout the empty classroom. Your wet walls convulse around Seungmin’s cock, clutching onto him for dear life as you cum hard. 
“I suppose that’s why you cum so easily, huh?” He asks, catching his breath. “Because nobody’s been touching you? Poor thing.” 
Your cheeks burn a bright red as Seungmin continues to fuck you, right up until he’s had his fill. Regardless of how overstimulated you are, he can’t stop because he’s nearly there. His hips stutter forward a few times as he chases the tail of his orgasm, getting hit with it right at the last second. 
“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he lowers his head, watching where his cock keeps disappearing into and listening to your whimpers. It’s all enough to tip him right over the edge and into a pool of warm euphoria. “Yes – fuck!” 
With a few more grunts and thrusts, Seungmin slows right down as he cums inside you. For a split second there, his vision started to go splotchy. It reminded him of the fact that he hasn’t cum that hard in a while. In saying that, you get to bask in the warm sensation that fills your lower half. 
“Shit,” he gasps, breathing heavily. In the back of his mind, something told him that he shouldn’t have done that. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s fine,” you swallow, trying to dampen your dry throat. “You’re lucky I’m into that.” 
He lets out a breathy chuckle and for the first time, you’ve actually seen Seungmin genuinely smile. 
-
A/N: I’m not going to lie, I kind of want to make a part 2 to this but reader finds out that she’s pregnant lmao
1K notes · View notes
nolita-fairytale · 4 months
Text
your past and mine are parallel lines | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader
summary: a run-in with an old friend sparks a conversation between you and carmy of the people you loved before each other. or rather, the one in which you meet claire.
warnings: use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, tooth rotting fluff, not-your-normal jealousy fic, soft!carmy, lives in the world of make my heart surrender
wc: 3.9k
a/n: ok so hear me out: i just want to write about healthy relationships right now and that is where i'm at. this is not your normal jealousy fic and i hope you still enjoy! this lives in the world of 'make my heart surrender' because of course it does and takes place a month after my oneshot, j is for j beard and jealousy.
Tumblr media
masterlist
It begins with forgotten carrots, tops attached, of course – a necessary ingredient to the dish that you’ve been working on all afternoon together. Usually, you’d go for a rainbow bunch, but for the puree, aesthetically of course, the classic orange carrot is much better suited. You’d hadn’t put them on the grocery list the day before, certain that you had a bunch or two at home sitting in your vegetable drawer, only to find mid-recipe development that you did not, in fact, have carrots at home. It doesn’t take long for Carmy to suggest a quick trip to the store, insisting that you come with him because this is a date, after all. 
It’s something you and Carmy have decided to do, now that neither of you are needed at the restaurant 24/7: a cooking date at home which, despite the fact that this date night was an idea born out of both of your desires to introduce more fun into your lives, will inevitably become a dish that Carmy tries to put on the menu anyways.
Divide and conquer is the strategy: while you hit up the produce aisle, Carmy is sent on a mission to procure a bottle of orange wine for dinner later tonight. 
But what’s supposed to be a simple Saturday afternoon grocery store run takes a turn for the intriguing as you hear a laugh – a woman’s laugh – and the familiar sound of your boyfriend’s voice muttering something about the name of his restaurant.
As you approach, you spot your boyfriend and the woman he’s found himself in a conversation with. Carmy leans against the refrigerator doors, his chest square to the brunette, bathed in neon blues from the refrigerator lights. 
“Because you’re the bear. And I remember you,” you hear her say. You observe carefully, the look of surprise and the blush that runs across Carmy’s cheeks in response to her words are not lost on you. 
There’s a palpable energy between them as they converse, and it feels as if all the blood is rushing to your head as you cut the tension with a single: 
“Hey.” 
As the brunette turns to you, you’re only a little taken aback by how beautiful she is. With long, thick, dark hair, she has piercing blue eyes, similar to the ones you’ve found yourself lost in in your years spent loving Carmen Berzatto. You feel almost silly as you stand there, holding a bunch of carrots in your right hand, suddenly grateful that your have your favorite of Carmy’s denim jackets tied around your waist (for “just in case the store’s got the AC blasting,” Carmy had reminded you before you left the house earlier). 
“Hi,” is all she replies, an almost too-friendly smile plastered to her face, as she takes a few steps towards you. “I’m Claire. I’m…” She trails off before stealing a glance over at Carmy before continuing with, “...an old friend. Of Carmy’s.” As the woman called Claire extends a hand out to you, you take it, giving her hand a curt shake as you introduce yourself. 
It dawns on Carmy, who has slipped into a state of what can only be considered as shock, that he probably should’ve introduced the two of you sooner as he mutters an apology under his breath. 
“Shit, yeah, sorry. I probably should’ve-. I uh, um, Claire. Yeah. This is uh, this is my girlfriend,” Carmy manages to get out, his face growing increasingly deeper shades of red as the words tumble out of his mouth. 
“Your-? Wow, oh my god! It’s-it’s so nice to meet you,” Claire replies, trying her best to hide the surprise in her voice as it increases in pitch with every word. 
“So… what’re you two up to-?” she begins to ask, looking from you to Carmy with wide, quizzical eyes. “Carrots. We’re uh…,” is the first thing that comes to mind as the words fly from your lips. “... buying carrots.” 
You realize how stupid it sounds, completely caught off guard, as you scramble to find any word in the English language that doesn’t sound as ridiculous as what you’ve just said. 
You wonder if this is how Carmy felt when you ran into Nate at the James Beard Awards about a month ago. 
At this rate, something’s gotta be in retrograde, right? you think to yourself as you try to push down your feelings of embarrassment. 
“Right,” Carmy mutters, while Claire tries to get the conversation back on track. 
“Well, it’s really good to see you, Bear. Really. I’ll have to stop by the restaurant sometime,” she says, preparing to excuse herself. 
“Yeah,” Carmy nods, still avoiding as much direct eye contact as possible. 
Bear.
It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does, and yet, you can’t help the feeling that wells inside of you as she says the name. 
The family name. 
His childhood name. 
It feels more intimate than it should, and maybe it is. 
You swallow, trying to shake the feeling. 
“Yes. Yeah, we’d uh… let us know. When you’re there,” you continue, exchanging a look with Carmy, who only nods along. 
“Oh, you’re a-, you work there too? At the restaurant,” Claire asks, eyeing the carefully drawn fruits and veggies that adorn the length of your arms, permanently inked there forever. 
“Yeah. Uh. Pastry chef,” you reply with a small laugh. 
She nods, almost as if she’s accepted an unspoken agreement – something you’re not sure you’ll ever know. 
“Well it was nice to meet you,” she says once more, shooting a soft smile in your direction, before excusing herself. “And it’s good to see you, Carmy.” 
As you watch Claire walk away, Carmy’s still frozen inside of what he thinks could be the most awkward experience of his month so far. 
“So… that was weird,” you say, as you turn towards your boyfriend. He mutters something in agreement because the only thing he can think of to say is, what the fuck just happened. 
And he’s barely figured that out. 
“Do… you want to talk about it?” you ask skeptically, dragging out the ‘o’ at the beginning of your question. 
“Not really,” he mumbles softly, shaking his head. 
“Great, me either,” you’re quick to reply, even though you both know that you’re going to have to talk about this eventually. 
—-------------------------------------
It seems to be a day of forgetfulness, as Carmy realizes that he’s left his notebook at the restaurant – something he’s been working out of for any and all new ideas, a habit you think he picked up from Syd. It’s not entirely out of the way, so the two of you decide to stop by on the way home. You enter through the back, hoping to skirt the tongue lashing you’ll both get for coming in – even just for a few minutes – on your day off. 
But a hall-pass just isn’t in the cards for either of you, as you’re instantly spotted, arm-in-arm, by Richie who’s just ended the pre-dinner shift all hands meeting. 
“It’s your day off! Get the fuck outta here,” Richie calls out to you with a shake of his head. “You two. I swear.” 
“I just forgot my notebook. We’re in, then we’re out. I swear!” Carmy defends himself, holding up his hands. 
“Yeah, yeah,” Richie dismisses him before issuing a warning with a wag of his finger. “You better not stay longer than five minutes, you got that?” 
“In and out. Scout’s honor,” you answer, before the abrupt interjection of Fak’s voice stops you from saying anything else. 
“Incomiiiiiiiing!” Fak cries, as he bursts through the doors. “Ahhhh man. Hey Carm! I heard you ran into Claire Bear.” 
Claire Bear?
You shoot Carmy a quizzical look that he’s more than eager to avoid. 
“The fuck are you talkin’ about?” Richie snaps as Carmy simultaneously lets out as: “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. What do you-? How? Already?!” “Fuck it’s been two fuckin’ seconds,” Carmy grits his teeth, trying his best to answer Richie’s question. “But apparently news travels fast.” He shoots you an apologetic look as he explains, “She’s uh… close family friends with the Faks.” 
“Ahhh,” you let out. “She seem good? Bet she was glad to see ya,” Fak inquires, overenthusiastically winking in Carmy’s direction. 
“Yeah she’s uh… she’s gonna be a doctor in a few months huh?” Carmy replies, trying his best to avoid Fak’s continuous winks. 
“Who the fuck is Claire?” Sydney asks, as she enters the conversation. Syd quickly notices the confused look on your face, in contrast to the embarrassed one on Carmy’s, and a more than eager Fak, much to Richie’s dismay. 
It’s as if he can read the situation in one look as Richie cuts in this time with an explanation:
“Will you stop it, fucko? Jesus Christ.” Richie turns his attention to you this time as shakes his head, brushing off Fak’s earlier comment. “She’s just a kid from the neighborhood. That’s all.” 
“Just a kid from the neighborhood?! You, Richie, you are not nice!” Fak exclaims. 
But Richie is faster, quick to dismiss the man as he cuts him off with a few sharp words about fixing his bowtie before dinner service starts. As they bicker back and forth, trading barbs like brothers, Carmy has returned to his ‘I really don’t want to talk about this’ body language, his shoulders slumped and completely avoiding eye contact. 
“Okay. Um…. Raise your hand if you’re off the clock but you’re acting really fuckin’ weird right now,” Sydney says, looking from you to Carmy, and then back to you. 
“I…” you try your best to explain to no avail – mostly because you’re not sure what to explain yet. 
“We should go. Let’s get out of here, yeah?” you propose, directing your attention towards Carmy again. You’re more than happy to be met with a nod as Carmy excuses himself, darting into his office to retrieve the notebook he came here for in the first place. 
You can tell that he’s not ready to talk about it, and after the weirdness today, you’re beginning to wonder more and more about this Claire girl. Carmy had never mentioned an ex-girlfriend. You knew that there were short-lived flings here and there throughout his twenties, but by the time you met him, it was just you and him, trapped inside your little bubble of denial and unspoken feelings until you weren’t. 
Claire doesn’t quite seem like an ex, but you could feel that she wasn’t just a girl from the neighborhood that Carmy grew up with either. 
“You good?” Sydney asks, immediately noticing your discomfort. 
“Yes,” you answer, unconvincingly. “Sooooo….?” Sydney begins to ask. 
So what’s going on? So what was that all about? 
“Girl, I will let you know when I know,” you answer, shooting her a matching look. 
“Godspeed, my friend,” Sydney replies with a salute, eliciting a much needed laugh from you. “I’m gonna get back to work but uh… I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” you nod, trying your best to shake off this weird feeling. 
As you watch her go, you’re too caught up in the what-the-fuck-ness of it all that you barely notice as Richie approaches. 
“You know you got nothin’ to worry about, right, sweetheart?” Richie asks you, interrupting the thoughts swimming around in your head. 
“No yeah. I-, he’ll tell me when he’s ready,” you reply, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. 
“You ready?” you hear Carmy ask. 
“Yeah,” you nod, before giving Richie a small smile because his reassurance means a lot. “Thanks, Richie.” 
As you wave goodbye, Carmy takes your hand before leading you out of the restaurant and en route towards home. There’s a thick tension between the two of you, filled with things left unsaid. It’s more of an awkward kind of tension as Richie’s words echo in your head: 
You know you got nothin’ to worry about, right, sweetheart? 
It means more to you than he knows – that Richie is in your corner. It’s not like the two of you are best friends, but you have a mutual understanding that you’ve been good for Carmen ever since you reentered his life. 
You’ve become a patient woman, knowing that, most of the time, Carmy has to come to you on his own time. You trust him wholeheartedly, and you trust that he’ll tell you when he’s ready. It just doesn’t help the anticipation that’s been building inside of you all afternoon. 
“You know. We’re gonna have to talk about this eventually,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence between you. 
“Yeah,” Carmy answers quietly, giving your hand a confident squeeze. And if it’s a promise, he adds, “Yeah, I know.”
—-------------------------------------
You’re barely paying attention to George Clooney’s portrayal of a former raider turned newspaper columnist of a fox, entirely distracted by your game of cat and mouse that you play with Carmy and his attention. You can feel his eyes on you as you take another sip from your wine glass, the funky and sour notes hitting your tongue as he watches you closely, your head hazy from getting towards the end of the second glass.  
Carmy sighs, shifting his body position, as if choosing the comfiest position will embolden him to tell you what’s been on his mind.
He lets out yet another sigh, this one much heavier than the last and you know he’s working up the nerve. 
You cradle your wine glass in your hands, giving the last of the orange elixir a swirl as you settle into the couch, your back pressed against the arm of it as you stretch your legs out in front of you. 
“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask him, and he lets out one last sigh of relief, almost as if he’s been waiting for you to ask. 
“Uh… yeah, actually,” Carmy admits, hesitantly.
You’ve been waiting for him to get here, taking in the vulnerable look on his face as he searches for the words he thinks will best convey what he wants to say. “So… there was like… someone… before me, yeah?” Carmy drags out, his face soft as he asks you a question that takes you by surprise. 
You let out what can only be described as a laugh and a sob as you reply with: 
“What do you mean?” you choke out, the laugh that escapes your body providing much needed relief. 
It’s not what you expected. That’s for sure. 
“You know…” he trails off, before taking another deep breath because as much as he hates to admit it, it’s really the only example he’s got. “Like… I know… about Nate.” “Nate?!” you exclaim with an even bigger laugh. “Bear, are you… are you asking me about my exes?” 
“Uh… yeah…” he admits on an exhale, almost embarrassed to be asking. “I guess uh-, I guess I am.” In his bashfulness, you giggle, reaching out to give his arm a squeeze as you begin to understand that he’s ready to talk about what happened in the grocery store. 
Carmy takes a breath, and you watch his posture soften.
“Well, Nate barely counts as an ex. I don’t… That was more of a… one-time mistake kind of thing,” you admit, knowing that it wasn’t all that long ago that Carmy found out about it in the first place. 
“Right,” Carmy nods, his gaze focused on his knees for a moment because even though he brought it up, he’d really like to stop talking about Nate right about now. 
“But!” you begin, trying your best to meet him where he’s asking you to. “The guy I dated… right before I met you, Alec was… definitely someone I consider an ex. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah um… we were together for two years… just before I started working at our old spot,” you begin, willing to give him as much information as he wants. “So why didn’t it work out?” Carmy asks curiously. 
“I don’t know, babe. I racked my brain trying to figure that one out a ton when we first broke up,” you sigh, uncertain of how to answer that question. You take your time choosing to be as honest as possible in your explanation. “I think… I don’t know. He was never as sure about me as I was of him.”
“We were great together, y’know? He was kind, and smart… he made me laugh… And we were really happy together for a long time. I mean, I think we were exactly what each other needed as the people we were in that time of our lives,” you explain, elaborating on what really worked in your relationship with Alec. 
“But eventually, none of that stuff really mattered because all I wanted was to be with someone who felt as crazy about me as I did about them, you know? And… he wasn’t… entirely sure.” 
Carmy lets out a deep breath as he takes your words in. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes, as he feels the weight of your words. “I guess… well, I guess I didn’t know about all that.” 
“Well, I didn’t exactly tell you,” you shrug. 
Carmy thinks it over, wondering why he never asked you about your broken heart back then – not that he was ever really good about that kind of stuff  – the talking about feelings kind of stuff, and whatnot. 
But he wants to be good at it now. Or, at least he’d like to try. He wants to try to be good at it for you. 
“Guy’s a fuckin’ loser,” Carmy comments, a bitterness in his voice as he does. “I can’t imagine it.” 
“Hm?” 
“Not being crazy about you,” he answers, his tone confident as his eyes catch yours. 
Your heart flutters with the way he looks at you, and between his words and his certainty about you, you can’t regret the past – not even a little bit. 
“It’s okay, Bear,” you reassure him, and you mean it. “If Alec and I had stayed together… well, you and I never would’ve….” 
“Danced around each other for over two years?” Carmy points out letting out a dry laugh. “Right,” you chuckle in agreement, with a playful eye roll. 
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.” 
“We’re here now. Isn’t that what’s important?” you ask with a shrug and a half smile. 
This time, his tone much more serious, Carmy answers with a, yeah, that feels heavier than the previous ones. 
You and Carmy both take a beat, letting the reality of your life with each other sink in. It’s as if all the ‘no’s of the past lead you here to this moment, and you’d have it no other way. 
“So. Who… is Claire?” you ask, earning a groan from Carmy as he swears under his breath with a shake of his head. You stretch out your leg, just enough to poke him with your big toe as he chuckles, wanting nothing more than to avoid this question. 
“It’s just… well you’ve never really told me about any of your exes!”
“Well she’s not really… my ex,” Carmy blushes, averting his gaze once again. 
“Well, she doesn’t really seem like just a friend,” you point out, and it suddenly feels like you’re showing your entire hand. Carmy agrees with you on an exhale, reminding himself that he wants to try the whole ‘better at talking about feelings’ thing with you. 
“Okay. Uh… well… we’ve known each other for like… forever, I guess,” Carmy begins to explain running a hand through his curls. “Her family is close with the Faks and I-, I-, uh… well, I sort of… had this massive crush on her… like all throughout school.” 
“What?” you ask, genuinely curious about his sudden coyness. 
“It’s embarrassing!” he defends himself, with a dry laugh. 
“Carmy, it’s not!” you insist, sitting up straight this time to reach for his hand. “Was it weird for you? Earlier today?” 
“Uh. Kinda, yeah,” he confesses, stealing a glance your way. 
“Yeah?” you ask. 
“Yeah. Like… a lot. Was that… not obvious?” he shoots back, this time with a shake of his head. “I just-. I don’t know. It was weird.”
“Good weird or bad weird?” you ask again, patiently. “Just… weird, babe,” Carmy answers honestly with a shrug of his own. 
You nod in understanding, wanting to give him the space to share more if he’d like to. It’s not that you were worried about Claire… but it had been weird, earlier today – and even stranger when no one was giving you a proper explanation. “I-, I-, it’s like. I had such a big crush on her. And I could barely work up the nerve to talk to her like… I was sort of just this-, this total fuckin’ loser,” Carmy continues, his eyes narrowing as he talks about a younger version of himself. “And now here I am… with my super hot girlfriend and I just-. I don’t know. It sorta uh… reminded me of like… a different version of myself.” 
“Yeah, no, I-, I get that. It’s… it’s such a weird feeling,” you empathize, exchanging a look with your boyfriend this time. 
You nod in understanding, only to be met with a laugh and another shake of his head as Carmy lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re being like… waaaaay too cool about this,” he points out, his voice lighter this time. 
“Oh yeah?” you ask with a quirk of an eyebrow. “Uh. Fuck yeah,” Carmy confirms, as you exchange a laugh. He shrugs once again, only a little embarrassed as he adds, “You know… I just… I kinda lost my fuckin’ mind. You know. About Nate.” You shrug, “That’s different. I-.” A beat. “Do you want me to be jealous?” “No,” Carmy answers. A beat. “Maybe?” And another. “I-, I don’t know. This is all so new to me!” 
“Carm,” you sigh, as you lean over, placing your wine glass down on the coffee table before scooting closer to your boyfriend as you continue. “You and I have been through so much together and there were days that I thought we’d never speak again… but somehow we still ended up here.” 
He grabs your hands, pulling you in closer towards him as you meet him pound for pound–all heart on both sides. 
“I trust you,” you reassure him, your fingers sliding perfectly between his. “And I know I have your heart… ‘cos I know you got mine.” 
“Ffffffuck,” Carmy exhales, in complete disbelief that you really are being too cool about this. “Seriously?!” 
You laugh, incredulously this time, as you decide to give your boyfriend just a little of what he may be looking for. “No, but. It did-, it was weird for me… today. With Claire. And then later at the restaurant when Fak brought her up. I mean… you weren’t lying. News traveled fast,” you admit, much to Carmy’s relief. 
“Neighborhood’s small. That’s for sure,” he agrees, equally uncomfortable with how quickly that got around. 
“And… She is like… really pretty. And… what? About to be a doctor so I guess that means she’s really fuckin’ smart. I mean-,” you continue. 
It doesn’t take Carmy long to realize that you’re trying too, deciding it’s best to put you out of your misery sooner rather than later as he cuts you off with a playful, “Oh shut the fuck up.” 
It’s your turn to laugh this time as you lean in, pressing your lips to his. 
Carmy inhales, breathing you in as he tries to memorize the way you smell, the way you taste, the way your lips feel nestled so perfectly against his. He pulls away just for a moment, intent on telling you something. 
“You do, by the way,” Carmy says, his declaration soft but sure. “Have my heart, I mean.”
“I know, babe,” you reply, with a smile. “I know.”
—-------------------------------------
a/n: if you've been wondering where i've been, i've been here! just living a whole lot of life offline these days. would anyone be interested in reading my thoughts on life? anyways, i feel like a hiatus was good for me, and now i have all this life i've lived that's inspired me to write again. i've been channeling a lot of my creative energy into other projects which has felt great and it also feels really good to be back.
834 notes · View notes
lacedinweb22 · 10 months
Text
new ride 🏍️༻ (Miguel O’Hara x reader)
🕸️ Entangled series 🕸️ ch. 3 prev part
author’s note: I had this hot vision of motorcycle Miguel last week then came across this artwork which completely cemented my idea. Check out the artist!!!! 💘🕸 ALSO this is a flashback chapter!!!
Summary: Your best friend/crush, Miguel, comes over to study with you. His arrival to your apartment surprises you, and gives you a new reason to procrastinate and get closer to him.  CW: none 
Tumblr media
✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊
I looked down at our text conversation, pacing in my bedroom.
Miguel: I’m on my way from Alchemax :) give me 5
Me: Traffic is bad rn so drive safe :D I’ll be waiting in front  Me: Also it’s so dark out so drive carefully. don’t text and drive
I threw my phone on my bed and finished getting ready and cleaning up my place. I headed out and stood in front of my apartment complex, nearing the sidewalk so he could park and I could help him with his books and our lab equipment, though I knew he would reject my help.
I stared down the street waiting for Miguel when headlights approached, blinding me, and spotlighting me in the darkness. The dark blue motorcycle pulled up in front of me, parking exactly where Miguel was supposed to park. I shyly backed up into the grass to avoid blocking their path. I took a deep breath, “Sir, I was… saving this spot for a friend,” I blurted, attempting to be assertive. He took his helmet off, revealing Miguel under. "Oh yeah?" he asked, smirking as he wiped sweat from his forehead. "Miguel," I muttered, confused.
His wavy brown hair was messy, damp with sweat, cascading onto his face, and his cheeks were rosy. I admired his black fingerless gloves wrapped around his muscular hands, which gripped tightly around his motorcycle’s handlebars. He wore a compression shirt, snug around his biceps, and his dark gray pants that his crimson briefs peeked out of. He turned the engine off then got off of it. He grabbed his backpack and textbooks out from the back of the bike and slung it onto his shoulder, while I grabbed the heavy textbooks from his hands and continued to stare at him in awe.
I snapped myself out of it as Miguel looked at me through his furrowed brows, while he locked his helmet to his mirror. “Miguel, when were you going to– I mean– since when did you have a motorcycle?” I asked, interrogating him. “Since always,” he replied, shrugging. He walked past me and towards my apartment, avoiding my questions, and supporting his guiltiness. I chased after him.  
“No, you liar, I’ve never seen… When did you even…?” “Y/N, I always bring the car so you can ride with me. It would be too dangerous and… I wouldn’t want to risk anything with you,” he explained. “So you only drive your car… for me?” I asked, hiding how flattered I was. He nodded. 
“Okay but that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve still been keeping this from me,” I shrugged, “I mean, Miguel, you’ve been living a double life. You’re a double-agent, double-crossing, traitor, backstabbing, liar,” I accused jokingly, chasing after him. I caught up to him at my door, as I watched him scoff and smile, avoiding me as he opened my apartment door and entered before me.
“You have to make it up to me,” I exclaimed, “I mean, don’t you think it would be a little fucked for you to drive over here with your fancy new ride, and rub it in my face just to not let me ride with you,” I said, shrugging, blocking his way. “And that is exactly why I kept it from you,” he said, sarcastically smiling, walking around me and into the kitchen. He dropped his backpack to the floor as I placed the pile of books onto the kitchen counter. He sat at the counter, dragging the textbooks in front of him, and opening them up, ready to study. “But– but–” “It’s not safe, Y/N,” he declared, firmly. “Damn, okay,” I muttered, sitting beside him, slumping and slowly opening up my notebook. I sighed and began to write. He turned to me then hung his head low, sighing to himself, and muttering in Spanish.
“You brat,” he said, as he stood up and slammed his textbook closed. He walked towards the front door, heading back to his motorcycle. I followed happily behind him. 
He stood beside his motorcycle, his hands on his hips, “Get over here,” he demanded. I walked quickly across the grass then arrived on the opposite side of his motorcycle, awaiting his instructions.
“Get on top,” he demanded. Never thought I’d hear him say those words. “Okay, geez” I muttered, slinging one leg across the bike, trying to climb up. He watched me struggle, his arms crossed, as he rolled his eyes. “Not all of us are fucking 6’9” Miguel, help me up,” I exclaimed, annoyed.
He came to my side of the bike, and put his hand underneath my thigh, lifting me up onto it. 
I sat on his bike, as he stood tall beside me. “Nice,” I said, nodding excitedly. “Good, now safety,” he said, pulling an extra helmet out from the back. He grabbed his helmet and rested it on my lap as he helped me put the spare on. He brushed my hair back, gently moving it out of my face and sliding the helmet onto me, adjusting it. He lifted the shield up so he could see my eyes. 
“Do I look cool?” I asked, grinning with my eyes. He stepped back, taking in the view of me hovering on his bike. “So cool… and kind of…” “hot,” I finished, confidently. “I feel like all-black was the way to go today,” I said, looking down at my pants, tracing my hands along my hips and thighs. He nodded, smiling down at me, “you do look… hot,” he affirmed, nodding, his gaze soft on me. He cleared his throat then came back closer to me, adjusting the helmet. 
He traced his fingers down from the bottom of the helmet to the black cord around my neck. “You’ve always eyed this one,” I whispered nervously, as I looked up at him. “Triquetra: body, mind, spirit,” he said, tracing it. I nodded. “Your Irish is showing,” I muttered, nudging him as he smiled down at me. “Take it,” I said, as I undid it and began to wrap it around his neck. “No, what are you doing, Y/N? It’s yours,” he argued, gently pushing my hands away. “Don’t be annoying. I’m going to Dublin this summer, I’ll buy a new one,” I pushed. He surrendered, as I wrapped it around his neck. I continued, “This one has been mine since forever, so it has luck and my… essence, so you can… wear it when you’re driving or whenever you need protection,” I reasoned, clasping it.
“Thank you, Y/N. I’m never taking this off,” he said, looking down at it, his fingers caressing the charm. “So,” he took a deep breath then climbed onto the bike, now sitting in front of me. He pulled his helmet on then turned it on, now gripping the handlebars. “Scoot closer to me,” he said, reaching behind him to grab my arms and wrap them around him. “We’ll ride, but only for a bit,” he asserted. “Okay,” I whispered. He reached back and grabbed under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly up and closer to him, my thighs now completely wrapped around him. He smelled like cinnamon and… Miguel. I lowered the shield on my helmet, my face flushed. His gloved hands clenched around the bars, as he slowly started to drive. 
We drove down the street, as I held onto his muscular body tightly. I’m enjoying this a little too much. “We should head into the main city, just barely, for a little,” I whined. “We have to study,” he exclaimed back at me, through the wind. “Please, just for a bit, for me,” I said, squeezing him tighter. I felt him exhale against my chest. He dropped his head low, defeated. He headed towards the freeway. “I hate you,” he exclaimed. I grinned under my helmet, leaning my head into his back. He sped up, my hair combed by the wind. 
We entered the main city, the huge skyscrapers lit up, shining above us. I looked up in awe. “You good back there?” he called out, patting my leg. I squeezed him tightly, nodding against him. We drove through the city, then eventually headed back. 
We pulled up in front of my apartment, as he turned the engine off and got off of the bike. He took his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. He stood beside me, and helped me take off mine. He lifted it off of me slowly, his eyes immediately meeting mine. 
“See, not as dangerous as you thought it would be, huh?” I teased, hoping it would convince him to let me ride with him again.
“Mmmm, you are still in one piece,” he said, shrugging, helping me get off of the bike. “So, you’ll invite me to ride with you again, someday, maybe?” I asked, smiling up at him, leaning closer to him. “I’ll consider it,” he said, smirking down at me as we walked to my apartment to study. “Fair enough.” 
✧༺♥༻∞
next part
Tag List: @wingedturtledream @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @infirebaby @skaochii @bat-yo-us @lostpirate79 @renn-pumkin-head @princessa-micomicona @qundadedingle11 @waiif-uwu @punpuun @migueloharaslxt @thbidkbutok @00macy2022 @acehyacinth
938 notes · View notes
fragileruns · 6 months
Note
Hii, I saw your last post and I thought why not send a request? Here is my idea: single dad!Spencer/Reader. Spencer brings his daughter to the BAU during a paperwork day, his daughter meets Reader for the first time. Reader is not used to being around children, so they (you can keep it gender neutral if you want to) are a bit awkward aand shy. But of course Spencer's daughter wants to be their friend because Spencer always tells his daughter how amazing Reader is. I'll leave the rest up to your imagination, thank you for reading and writing this, I'm sure it will turn out better than I imagined <33
i’m so sorry this is actually awful because i’m also terrible with kids and have no idea how situations go about with them haha - hopefully it’s somewhat what you wanted, though!
spencer reid x bau!reader. featuring his daughter, derek, brief mention of emily, y/n & spencer being flustered over their situationships, reader is mentioned to have a bunny, i think that’s it? it’s just fluff
You thought you had to be imagining things when you heard a voice - one that could only belong to a little kid - ask “Which one’s Y/N?”
You weren’t, and one glance around the room confirmed that. You saw Spencer bent down, messing with a little girl’s hair, who you could only assume was his daughter. Once he looked up to point over at you and gave you an almost apologetic smile, your eyes widened and you realized too late what was happening.
“Be nice, okay? Don’t be too crazy.” You could hear him tell you, and your nerves were fighting with you as you tried to plan for what was going to happen. What are you supposed to say to a little kid? You hardly knew what to say to people your age.
“‘M always nice, Dad,” The little girl sighed with a slight huff as he still held onto her and he only chuckled, placing a kiss to the top of her head before he let her go. Immediately, she was rushing over to you with a grin.
“Y/N!” She sounded so excited that you almost questioned if you were some sort of child tv show star. Why would she even be looking for you? You’ve never met.
“Hi, Max. Right?” You smiled down at her, and she nodded eagerly. You could hear Spencer’s footsteps approaching, and you were thankful that at least if you were a total bore to her, he could save her.
“Daddy told me that you, um, that you got a new bunny. Can I see it?”
You nodded and went to grab your phone to show her the pictures you got, and you almost wanted to laugh at the innocence of the interaction. You didn’t expect a child to be so eager just to see pictures of your new pet.
You also didn’t expect for you to be a topic of conversation in the Reid household, and Spencer seemed to fluster at the idea of you knowing as much.
“She just - she really likes bunnies, so when you were showing pictures the other day, I wanted to - yeah. I just told her,” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, and you smiled up at him before turning back to his daughter.
“You can come see him one day, maybe. If your dad’s okay with bringing you over.”
You and Spencer both seemed surprised at your invitation, and you weren’t entirely sure where it had come from. Spencer had never been to your house before. It seemed too intimate, almost, for the weird type of situationship you two found yourself in.
Max gasped with excitement and turned up to her father, “Please? Can we go today, Dad? Please please please?”
“I don’t think they meant today, sweetheart. Maybe some other day though, okay?” He tried to calm the little girl, before turning back to you. “If you’re really okay with that.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” You grinned, placing your phone back on your desk now that Max was done swiping through the pictures.
Derek walked by then, and as soon as he came up to your desk and noticed the little girl standing there, he made a dramatic gasp. “Max? Since when did you get to be a giant?”
She giggled and quickly ran for his legs, tackling into them with a tight hug, “Hi, Uncle Derek.”
You were thankful for the reprieve, worried that now you didn’t have the prospect of seeing a bunny in your conversation, you’d have nothing else to say to her.
“Daddy’s gonna take me to see Y/N’s bunny.” She said, the child in her shining through at the need to tell every little thing, but you didn’t mind. You sort of liked that you had something to make her so excited.
Derek looked up at the two of you with a grin, and you both knew what was coming. He had been too eager to tease the two of you about being ‘lovebirds’ even when you vehemently denied it. This was only more fuel.
“You sure you’re invited to go with him?” Derek had questioned, but Max didn’t understand the implication.
“‘Course I am, Uncle Derek. It’s a bunny.”
“Yeah, Derek. It’s a bunny.” You spoke up, eyes narrowed at him in a way that told him not to push it further, but the chuckle that left him told you he wasn’t done.
“Hey, kiddo, why don’t we go see Aunt Emily? Let your dad and Y/N keep planning their date.”
“It’s not-” Spencer had started but Derek looked at him with an innocent expression.
“Playdate, obviously. For Max and the bunny.” Spencer’s cheeks were flushed pink, and yours were too, as Derek broke into a grin.
“Yeah, Dad. Obviously.” Max mimicked before eagerly following after Derek to find Emily, leaving you and Spencer avoiding eye contact with equally red cheeks.
551 notes · View notes
sardonic-the-writer · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ includes: scout, soldier, medic, and spy
↳ warnings: mentions of surgery and alcohol
↳ song: runaround sue—dion
masterlist | commissions | carrd
𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐭
• He’s such a doofus. It takes him at least a month to pick up on it
• The entire time you’re flirting or making moves on him, he’ll jokingly reciprocate it under the impression that you’re just joshing around
• It takes one of the other team members approaching him for the mercenary to realize what was actually going on
• “Son.” Engineer had sighed as he stood in the doorway to Scout’s very messy room, “You do realize they like you?”
• Scout’s very dismissive and red faced about it
• “What? Psh. Stop messing with me, Engie. Don't you have sentries to build or somethin’?”
• The second Engineer leaves, he’s practically tearing up his room in a tirade of emotions
• Overthinks the past few months with you way too much. Practically wears a spot into the floor from all the nervous pacing he does
• In the end, Scout confronts you to ask you out
• Tries to be formal, but we all saw how that turned out with Miss Pauling. Eventually just gives up on trying to be suave— and not succeeding —to blurt out what he’s thinking
• “So, uh, yeah. I’m not so. Er. Good at this sappy stuff, but there’s a Tom Jones museum I think we could go check out. Together.” Scout pauses, accent only getting thicker with worry, “Alone. Y’know?”
• Over the moon when you say yes. All nerves dissipate and are immediately replaced with a cross between a smug and relieved victory
• If you look close enough at his ears, they’re a little pink
𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫
• If he hasn’t known you for long, Soldier will actually just chalk your actions up to being a communist spy
• A very exasperated Demoman had to get Miss Pauling to bring in heavily classified paperwork on you just to prove to him you weren’t a commie
• “Very well maggot! I’ll believe you— for now! Sleep with one eye open!” Soldier had barked, slamming down your file on the dining room table as a tired Pauling watched. You noted that the papers were upside down, and you doubt he even read them. Or that he could read
• He’s very blunt with everything. Words, actions, emotions, etc. Doesn’t understand why other people can’t just do the same. It would make conversation so much easier to him
• So he’s not oblivious to your attention per se. Just very curious, I suppose
• It takes maybe less than two weeks after the Communist Incident, as Demo had dubbed it, for him to corner you
• “Maggot! Do you find me attractive?” He demanded
• You’d been eating breakfast at the time, and almost choked to death on your laughter at the question
• “Short answer, yes.” You gasped through wheezy laughter, the volume only increasing at the frown on Soldiers face. “Follow up question; is that really how you just asked if I had a crush on you?”
• Nods and booms back that he thinks you’re also easy on the eyes. Proposes the idea of doing a training course with you sometime. Breaks out into a crooked grin when you accept
• “Excellent! I expect you up at oh five hundred for the course tomorrow!” He saluted you, which was Soldier equivalent to a bone crushing hug of respect
• You returned it, and missed the way his eyes crinkled with happiness behind the brim of his helmet
𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜
• Always so consumed in his work that he probably just ends up finding out from Archemedies
• The birds had always been allowed to rest on your shoulder while he performed risqué experiments on you, acting as a distraction from the feeling of someone sifting around in your guts
• I guess the dove had picked up on one too many looks you’d tossed the ex-doctors way
• To this day, no one can understand how the two of them can communicate, but one thing leads to another and suddenly Medic is looming in your doorframe silently
• “What’s up, doc?” You’d greeted him with a Bug’s Bunny quote and a grin. Medics lips only twitched up slightly as he pushed his glasses back up the brim of his nose
• “A little bird told me zhat someone has a crush, ja?” He barreled right into the topic, leaving no room for you to prepare for the sudden accusation. Medics scrutinizing gaze didn’t miss the way your eyes glanced in the direction of his lab, no doubt silently cursing Archemedies
• “No need to fear, freund.” He unclasped his gloved hands from behind his back and approached you. “I simply am here to offer you a deal.”
• Turns out the deal was a chance talk over cheap beer in his office. Pretty rare, considering how much of his time Medic chose to dedicate to work
• “I’ll take it.” You shook his hand, briefly noting how large it seemed even when compared to you
• “Vunderbar, mein schatz.” Medic smiled gently, leaving you to wonder what he had just said
𝐒𝐩𝐲
• There is no hiding when it comes to this French fuck
• Spy immediately picks up on every glance. Every chance of avoided eye contact and unnecessary clearing of a throat
• Suddenly he seems to be a lot more talkative towards you than normal. Hanging out by your side at gatherings rather than a dark corner with cigarette smoke curling around his head
• Fleeting touches slowly begin to sprinkle themselves in between conversation. A hand on the shoulder here, and a brief touch to the pulse point there
• The first time he did the latter, he noticed how fast your heart was beating and couldn’t stop himself from letting out a slight chuckle
• If he was nicer, Spy would definitely take action and approach your first. In fact, sometimes he almost finds himself wanting to
• But the man knows how people work. If you truly wanted to pursue him, you would come around eventually. No point in making rash decisions. He was a patient man, after all
• A small part of his ego preened at the thought of making you work for it
• And come around you did eventually did
• Finds himself opening the door to his smoking room one late night only to be met with the image of a very frazzled looking you
• You rush out something about a date too fast for his ears to catch. Spy is simply too busy letting his eyes roam over your casual cloathing and slight fidgeting. The crooning of an old French record plays from behind him as he blinks down at you
• “Would you like to come in?” He finally sighs out, opening the door a little wider in the form of an invitation
• By the time you manage to get inside, you notice he already had a wine glass set out for you
559 notes · View notes
dystopicjumpsuit · 15 days
Note
DJ MY LOVE!
May I request, from the cuddle prompts, of you feel so inspired:
- Feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling
Or
- Needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do
With Tech! Haven't asked for him in a while and I think we could all use some Tech fluff right about now.
(If you get a bunch of asks for the same Clone or just feel a pull towards another clone, feel free to change it. 😘)
Tumblr media
A/N: REBEL MY LOVE! Thank you for this! I’ve never written Tech before, and I was a bit intimidated, so I hope I’ve done justice to our boy. Also, you get two prompts for the price of one 🩵
Pairing: Tech x Reader (GN; reader is shorter than Tech but not otherwise described, aside from having a rough morning and a tendency to keep things bottled up)
Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)
Wordcount: 789
Warnings and tags: fluff, cuddles, Star Wars swearing, adult language
Summary: You swear to the Maker, if ONE MORE THING goes wrong today, you’re going to lose your mind. Tech has an exceptional idea for how to help.
Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list
Tumblr media
“Dank farrik,” you muttered under your breath.
The kriffing durang fruit you’d planned on turning into muffins had gone off. It smelled like death itself, and you gagged as you tossed it into the trash compactor. With a sigh, you glanced at your chronometer and winced.
Late. Kark. 
You snatched up your cup of caf as your brain raced to think of an alternative breakfast that you could pull together in a hurry before your scheduled holocomm. Not that Omega or the Batch really needed you to cook breakfast for them, but Benduday morning muffins had become something of a tradition, and you really, really didn’t want to see the matching disappointment in Omega and Wrecker’s eyes when you told them they would need to fend for themselves that day.
Maybe Shep has some extra—
“MOTHERKRIFFER!” you exclaimed, cutting off your own train of thought as the lid on your mug popped loose and you doused yourself in hot caf.
A quiet rustle sounded from the front of the Marauder as Tech slid out from beneath the control console and sat up to watch you, setting aside his hydrospanner. With supreme effort, you managed to keep your eye from twitching as you braced yourself for a well-deserved lecture on your language.
“Is everything all right?” he asked instead.
“Peachy,” you grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe off your shirt in disgust.
He rose quietly and approached. “I do not believe you.”
“What gave it away?” you snapped, flinging the towel into the sink with a frankly unnecessary level of force.
“You are upset. Given the relatively minor nature of the incident, I deduce that something else is bothering you. Do you wish to discuss it?”
“Not really.”
“Astonishing,” he said dryly. 
“The kriff is that supposed to mean?” you demanded.
“Merely that I have observed that you often prefer not to discuss your struggles, though I hope none of us have ever made you feel as though you should not speak freely when something is troubling you.”
You blinked, too surprised to be offended at his earlier sarcasm. “You have?”
“Indeed.”
Well… shit.
“It’s nothing,” you lied. Tech made no response, but he didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “Fine. It’s a bunch of tiny somethings that have all piled up on top of each other, and nothing is going the way I had planned, and I’m hungry, damn it, and now I have to think of something to cook for breakfast, except I have no kriffing caf left to make my brain work, and I have no other fruit to make muffins, so Wrecker and Omega are going to give me the tooka eyes, and I have a stupid holocomm that I’m expecting at literally any minute, and I don’t even want to talk to them, but I feel like I have to, and I swear to the Maker, if ONE more thing goes wrong, I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind!”
You grabbed the towel and began to scrub the sink furiously, desperate to focus on something other than the conversation that you very much didn’t want to have. After a few seconds, though, you felt a weight on your shoulder. You turned to see Tech’s hand resting there, and for a moment you were so shocked that you stopped scrubbing. He was not usually one to initiate physical contact, and you had always tried to respect his boundaries.
“Tech?” you asked uncertainly.
“I have observed that you often seem to find comfort in Wrecker and Omega's hugs when you are upset. As Wrecker and Omega are not currently present, I would like to offer my own.”
“Are you sure?” you inquired, dumbfounded. “Aren't you busy with the repairs from Omega’s last flight lesson?”
“It can wait,” he replied. “Unless you would prefer not—”
His sentence cut off abruptly as you crashed into him, burying your face against his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. His arms closed around your shoulders, and he held your head in one hand. You slumped against him, turning your head so you could breathe.
“Thank you,” you murmured.
“You are welcome,” he replied, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your ear as you rested your cheek against his chest. “I do not wish you to feel as though you must face all your struggles alone. Even the tiny ones.”
Just then, your comlink chimed with the dreaded holocomm.
“Do you wish to answer that?” he asked.
“Not really,” you admitted, “but I probably should.”
“May I propose an alternative course of action?”
“Propose away,” you replied.
“Remain with me, like this, and forget the holocomm,” he replied.
“You know what?” you asked. “That's an exceptional proposition. I accept.”
---
Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts!
More Bad Batch fics: Hunter fluff; Hunter spice; Crosshair hurt comfort; Crosshair fluff
Taglist:
@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49
@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella
@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream
@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep
@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine
@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam
@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist
@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal
@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose
@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr
@dangraccoon
164 notes · View notes
feyhunter78 · 3 months
Text
Flowers on Your Doorstep
Tumblr media
Art cred: Panprika (y'all have no idea how long I searched for this pic, I was losing my mind)
Description: After you bail on lunch, Miguel finds himself seeking advice on how to deal with your cold shoulder.
You’re ignoring him, phone on do not disturb, dodging him on campus and you’re even skipping lab. Of course, the TA said you emailed saying you were sick, but Miguel doesn’t believe it.
He knows you, knows you always push through, that you never skip lab because you’re too afraid you’ll miss something important, and your grades will slip. You’re not sick, this is something else. Something that you won’t tell him, and Brett won’t tell him either.
So, he turns to his next best option, Mina. She’s laying on Gabriel’s bed like she owns it, phone in hand, the room smelling faintly of weed. First, she glares at him, and then clicks her tongue disappointedly, sighing, “you just had to go running around with Ava again, huh?”
“Bro really?” Gabriel groans from his desk, spinning around in his chair to face Miguel. “She’s the fucking worst.”
“She just needed someone to talk to, she doesn’t trust anyone else, I was just being nice.” He says, massaging his temples as Mina continues to click her tongue, the tsk, tsk, tsk sound starting to give him a headache.
“You know what she does to you.” Mina chides, pushing herself up into a sitting position.
He does, he knows it all too well. Ava brings out the worst in him, she corrupted him, as you might say. But she’s still a person he once cared about, even if she stomped on his heart and threw it in a gutter, all the while laughing with her new boyfriend.
“She’s changed, she and Kyle broke up.” He shouldn’t be defending her, he knows that, but there’s still a part of him that wants to prove it wasn’t a mistake to love her.
“Oh again? What is this the twelfth time? I’m sure it’ll last this time around.” She deadpans, raising a perfectly arched brow at him.
Gabriel snickers, then gives Miguel a half-hearted apologetic look.
“What does this have to do with y/n, Mina?” He says tersely, running a hand through his hair, frustration burning, licking at his heels. He just wants to leave, to find you and beg you to tell him what he did wrong.
“She likes you, dumbass, and then she found out you’ve been hanging around Ava, while you’ve been hanging with her. What do you think that looks to her?” Mina asks, her expression making it clear to him that the answer should be obvious, and that she thinks he’s stupid.
He’s going to be sick.
“I—I would never—it’s not like that, I don’t want Ava back, I was just trying to be nice, I didn’t think…”
“Yeah, I can tell.” Mina scoffs, going back to her phone and tapping it a few times.
His stomach churns as he thinks back to earlier this week, the way Ava dragged him away, distracted him with stories from back when they were dating, good ones, funny ones. It was only meant to be a short conversation, you were supposed to get lunch, like always, he wanted to get lunch with you, like always.
He can picture it now, you hiding behind the Sig Epp letters watching him, watching the way Ava still didn’t understand boundaries and put her hands all over him. He could hear the tears coating your voice when he called you, it was like a knife through his chest and he just wanted to go to you. Wanted to wipe away your tears and do something, anything he could, to make it better.
“Look Miguelito just apologize, maybe bring some flowers and wear that sad puppy dog look you’ve got perfected.” Gabriel chimes in, stretching his arms above his head, before standing and approaching him, squeezing his shoulder empathetically. “You can never go wrong with flowers.”
Gabriel was wrong, very, very wrong.
You take the flowers Miguel offers you as he stands on your doorstep, patient, anxious, stomach still twisted in knots.
“Did Ava not want these or…?” You ask, inspecting the flowers with a detached look.
“No—no, I mean, they’re for you, only for you.”
“Oh, okay so she got her own, cool, cool.” You say, placing the flowers on the entryway table next to your door and crossing your arms over your chest.
“I didn’t get Ava flowers.”
“Okay.” You say, foot tapping against the wood laminate of your doorway.
“She’s my ex-girlfriend, we dated for a while, she cheated on me.” He admits in a rush.
Your frigid expression melts into something softer. “I—I didn’t know that.”
He rubs his neck sheepishly. “I don’t like to talk about it. It was a really rough time in my life. But her and I are over, I don’t have any lingering feelings for her.”
“Brett told me. He’s seen you and her together, both before we got close, and after…” You wrap your arms around yourself, your eyes downcast. “If you still have feelings for her, I get it, she’s gorgeous, and you guys have a lot of history.”
“I don’t have feelings for her, we broke up the summer before my freshman year here. She just transferred in at the beginning of this year, and she’s been having problems with her boyfriend. I guess she hasn’t really made any friends, so she’s been leaning on me.”
“And you’re too nice to say no to her.” Your voice is soft, tainted with sadness.
“I told her to find someone else, after you canceled lunch, she wanted to keep talking, keep flirting with me because she knew her ex would see us. I said no.”
You look up at him, half in hope, half in disbelief, it’s written all over your face. “Yeah?”
He nods.
You bite your lip then release it slowly, picking the flowers back up. “These are really pretty.”
He gathers his courage. “Just like you.”
A smile flits across your face. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression with Ava, I shouldn’t have left you stranded while I talked with her, we had prior plans, and I should have stuck to them.”
“It’s okay.” You tell him, holding the flowers to your chest.
He wants to ask you if what Mina said was true, if you feel the same way he does, but it feels wrong somehow. Like it would cheapen the moment.
“Do you want to come in and see our costumes for the dance?” You ask, taking a step back and allowing him entry.
Directly connected parts: Jealousy, Jealousy (previous part) and Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights (takes place after this current part)
TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425
295 notes · View notes
legiblyloathed · 1 year
Text
Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 1)
Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader
A/N: Okay, so the little blue haired menace has been rotting my brain for the past week, sue me. I tried to get him out of my brain by rewatching Gravity Falls, only for the episode “The Hand that Rocks the Mabel” to inspire a whole fanfic. Straight up water on a grease fire. Anyway, enjoy.
Next
I always forget how much of a hassle moving is until it’s time to actually do it. Weeks spent selling and giving away half of my belongings, trying to shove the rest of them into boxes, then taking all of them into a new location only to have to figure out where all of them should go in the new space; it’s on the list of most mundane yet stressful life events a person has to put themselves through.
These were the feelings that hung around my being like a dark cloud for the past few weeks, but now, as I finally set my final knickknack in its chosen spot, I can feel the sun breaking through. I stand up and stretch as hard as I can, trying to wring the residual tension out of my spine. Even with my reduced number of belongings, it’s a lot of work to unpack them all, especially when working alone.
I didn’t have to do all the work myself. Within minutes of hauling stacks of boxes into my new house, I’d been approached by numerous rather colorful people, all very keen to lend a hand. As the newest neighbor in town, I was a curiosity to them, after all. I’d declined the offers, not wanting to place any burdens on the shoulders of my new potential friends. Looking back on it, that wasn’t my smartest move. Or maybe that’s just my aching muscles talking.
I’m dragged out of my tired contentment by the sound of a knock on the front door. Relaxing with a heaving sigh, I stroll over and peer out the peephole. Standing on my porch is a large, multicolored bird. My eyes dart to the plate of cookies balanced in her wings. With newfound excitement, I yank open the door and greet her with a smile.
The bird almost appears startled at this, the cookies on the plate jostling as she jumped. “Oh dear!” She shuffles the plate to her left hand, her right settling upon her chest as if to calm her heart. “You startled me for a moment!”
I give her a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Settling down, she waves her free wing dismissively. “Nothing to apologize for, I’m a bit prone to fright, is all.” As if remembering their existence, she extends the plate of cookies towards me. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! I do hope you like them!”
“I’m sure I will!” I pull the plate from her grasp and hold it carefully to my chest, my mouth watering at the sugary smell. “They look and smell delicious, thank you so much…” I trail off, realizing in embarrassment that I never caught her name.
She seems to sense my hesitation, and beams in reassurance. “My name’s Poppy, Poppy Partridge.” I give her my name, mentally thanking her for the help. “It’s very nice to meet you, we haven’t had any new neighbors in a long time.”
“Really?” My head tilts to the side. “Why not? This place is beautiful.”
“Oh, I can’t say myself,” she sighs. “Suppose there’s just not much to around here.”
I shrug, trying to appear lighthearted. “It’s a pity.” She nods in agreement, and the conversation begins to lull. Not wanting to leave on such a sour note, I ask, “Out of curiosity, what do you like to do around here?”
“Me?” she squawks, looking taken aback. She fidgets with her feathers, her wings wringing around each other. “I suppose I like to bake, especially when the weather’s nice enough for a picnic.” I can almost see the lightbulb turn on above her head, and she turns her much cheerier gaze to my own. “Say, the rest of us were planning on a picnic this afternoon! Care to join us? It’d be a good time to meet your new neighbors.”
A sense of anxiety washes over me. The idea of being among that many strangers with such late notice flutters around in my stomach like butterflies. Without thinking, I begin to shift back and forth on my feet. “I… I don’t know, it’s very sudden…”
The bird wilts a bit, looking down at my porch. “Oh dear, it is, isn’t it? You must still be so busy with unpacking.”
I look up at her, my anxiety curdling into regret at her disappointment. I reconsider the situation. What’s an hour or two with a handful of strangers? There’s only nine houses in this town, counting my own, I can handle it. Having made up my mind, I shake my head. “No, no, I already finished unpacking. I’ll be there.”
Poppy perks up. “You will?” I smile, hoping she can’t see the hesitation in it. “That’s wonderful news!” She flaps her wings in excitement before stopping with a gasp of realization. “I have more baking to do, than! I’d better get going,” she says, turning to leave with one last wave of her big red wing. “I’ll see you soon, neighbor!”
“See you soon!” I shout back, waving with the hand that wasn’t clutching the plate of cookies. As she goes further from my field of vision, I feel myself slump, the excitement of a new friend and a batch of treats wearing off to remind me of my exhaustion. My hand falls limp to my side and I stare at the plate in contemplation.
Nap? Or snack?
I pluck a cookie from the tray and take a bite, feeling myself melt at the incredible flavor. I scarf the rest of the sweet down before heading back inside, picking up another one as I go. Maybe just a few before I rest up.
—————————
I snap up on my couch, almost falling off of it in my sudden awakening. What time is it? A quick glance at the clock on my wall reveals it to be mid-afternoon, and I throw myself off my resting place so fast I nearly hit the floor. I scramble to the window and see a small crowd of people in the distance, the sounds of talk and laughter wafting in through the glass. I let out a sigh of relief. At least I wasn’t… that late. After a quick change and a once over in the mirror, I hurry out the door and towards the picnic.
As I approach, the jolly sounds become clearer, with voices all chattering their cares away. Colorful blankets are scattered across the clearing, each rife with sandwiches and sweets. I really hope they aren’t upset that I didn’t bring anything. As I scan my surroundings, I pick out Poppy as she talks with a caterpillar and head in her direction, relieved at the semi-familiar face.
As if on cue, my way is blocked by a short girl in a pink dress dragging along a disgruntled looking man with a bowtie. “Ooh, you must be the new neighbor!” she squeals, bouncing up and down in place, hands flapping in front of her chest. “We were so worried you weren’t gonna come! I’m Julie Joyful, and this,” she says as she grabs the arm of the man next to her, “is Frank Frankly! Say hi, Franky!”
“Uh… hello.” I pondered briefly if I looked as awkward as poor Frank did as he gave me a small wave. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” I respond. As Julie begins to babble about her excitement, my eyes move to drift over the rest of the strangers. The vast majority are split off into their own small groups, with a single exception. Sitting on a bench under a large apple tree is a man who seems to be studying me the same way I’m studying him. One of his legs is crossed over the other, supporting his elbow as he rests his chin on his hand, staring at me with an intensity that sends a small shiver down my spine. And either I’m going crazy, or his lazy smile broadens ever so slightly at that.
I’m startled out of my impromptu staring contest by Julie, who seems to have noticed that I wasn’t listening and cranes her neck to see what I’m looking at. “Oh, have you met Wally yet?”
I shake my head. “No, not yet.” It takes all the willpower in my body not to meet those eyes that I can almost feel lingering on me.
The girl grins, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, you gotta meet him! I bet you two will get along like two peas in a pod!”
She begins to force me from my spot, and I feel myself start to panic. Before she can pull me away to the creepy man, Frank reaches out and stops her in her tracks. “Say, Julie, they don’t look too keen on it. Maybe they should take it slow, meet the others on their own time?” He gestures broadly to the snacks left sitting around. “They haven’t even gotten anything to eat yet, after all.”
Julie looks surprised at the intervention, a flash of guilt going over her face. “Oh my, you’re right, Frank! I’m so sorry, neighbor, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” At my dismissive hand wave, she changes course, instead pulling me to the piles of food. “Poppy told me she gave you some cookies, but just you wait ‘til you try her pie!” I turn to look at Frank, mouthing a ‘thank you’ at the grumpy looking man. He smiles a bit with a reassuring nod, and the three of us settle down on a blanket. For the rest of the picnic I eat while the two of them (mainly just Julie with the occasional comment from Frank) talk about all kinds of things.
I try hard to pretend I can’t feel the eyes burning into the back of my head.
—————————
The sound of a steady, rhythmic knock wakes me up the next morning. I rub the sleep from my eyes, noting with absent mind how high the sun had already risen. The three slow knocks reverberate through my house once again, and I roll out of bed and head towards the front door, not bothering to change out of my pajamas or even look through the peephole. This, as it turns out, is a bad move on my part.
I yawn as I open the door, only for it to become a strangled cough as I lock eyes with the one resident I didn’t want to see this early. The man, or Wally as Julie had called him, stood on my porch, his face as eerily relaxed as ever. His posture was straight, his clothes neat, his appearance put together; I don’t think he could be any more of a contrast to my current state if he actively worked towards it. Which, to be frank, I suspect he did.
Just like the last time I’d encountered him, the two of us looked as if we were having a staring contest. Unlike last time, however, this time he decides to break the silence. “Hi, neighbor.” His voice is soft and monotonous, each syllable dragging along in no hurry. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”
Somehow, I doubt that. In an attempt to relieve the strange tension, I let out a stilted laugh. “Yeah, you did, but it’s fine. I overslept, anyway.” He hums in acknowledgement, and it takes a few long seconds for me to realize he doesn’t plan on responding. Eager to hurry along this interaction so I can dart back into my house and hide from those piercing eyes, I prompt, “Something I can help you with, Wally?”
He tilts his head. “I never told you my name.”
“Yeah, no, you uh, you didn’t. Julie told me yesterday. At the… the picnic.”
“Oh, right. You three looked like you had a good time.”
“We did! We did…”
“Hmm.” His smile stretches, looking pleased by that confirmation. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re settling in okay. I’ve heard it can be awful hard to make new friends, but you have a way of drawing people in, huh?” Cutting me off before I can ask for elaboration, Wally continues. “Speaking of drawing, I was hoping you might join me for some painting today, down by the south woods.”
“Oh!” I blurt out, taking a moment to process the invitation. “I’m not exactly much of an artist, myself.”
He laughs, and it’s every bit as emphatic as the rest of his speech. “Oh, neighbor, that doesn’t matter. We all start somewhere, and besides, I’d like the company.”
I consider turning him down flat, but something tells me he’s a bit too persuasive for me to keep him at bay forever. With a grin so forced it hurts, I say, “Sounds like fun! I’ll be there.”
Wally’s head bobs in a slow nod, and he takes a step back from the door. “I’m glad to hear it. See you soon, neighbor.”
I return the nod and raise a hand in a brief wave. “See you soon.” His stare remains, and just as I ready myself to ask him to stop, he finally, finally, turns away and walks away, humming a quiet tune to himself.
I step inside and close the door, leaning my forehead against it as I recover from the encounter. My stomach growls, but I feel as though I’ve lost my appetite. The inexplicable dread in my heart squashes any hope of breakfast. I close my eyes, but even then I can still see his own staring back, unblinking in their ceaseless observation. With a shudder, I push myself up, trying my best to steel my nerves. It’s just a little art lesson, I chastise myself. So he’s a little spooky, it’s probably fine.
No matter how many times I repeated those three words to myself, the memory of those eyes seems to peer right through the lie.
1K notes · View notes
forever--darling · 3 months
Text
senator amidala
summary: while obi-wan lectures anakin over & over it seems, you find yourself unable to do anything but look more into your vision, & the story behind the stars. just when you feel as if you are getting some answers, forces shift at the addition of a new mission as well as someone from anakin's past.
pairings: anakin skywalker x jedi!reader
word count: 8.1k
warnings/notes: mention of war, of death, mention of clone wars, mention of reader's past life, swearing, soulmate au, teasingaotc!anakin, anakin skywalker x padmé amidala, angst, jealousy, the beginning of a long unforeseen slow burn
series masterlist | 04
Tumblr media
“Are you going to say anything or just sit there looking at me like that?” Anakin asked, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall of the training room, unable to look away from the glowered look that had overtaken his Master’s face. “Master?”
Obi-Wan sat in a rolling chair, his legs stiffly stuck to the floor and a certain knot forming between his eyebrows, that frown of his peeking through his beard. He didn’t even move or react when Anakin huffed out annoyingly, glancing towards the door and the closed blinds. Obi-Wan found him to be acting like a child then as he refused to have patience, refused to sit there in silence, but almost needed to in every way defy even the sole look that was being sent his way. 
Anakin raised his hands in the air, irritated by the impending silence; it not going to make a difference one way or another when his Master finally decided to open his mouth and scold him. It would be just as scornful either way, and the young Chosen One didn’t have it in himself to do anything else but keep talking, “It’s not like—” 
“Don’t,” Obi-Wan snapped lifting his pointer finger in the young Jedi’s direction, “Don’t you try and lie to me right now.” 
“I’m not. Nothing happened, and nothing was going to happen.” 
“Huh, so you’re just telling me you were laying on her for what?” Obi-Wan replied back, the sarcasm thick, so parent-like despite Anakin being an adult. “Of course, you don’t think of me as that stupid, Anakin.” 
“I don’t, Master,” Anakin agreed, sighing slightly as he pushed off from the wall to approach his Master, “It’s just I did nothing to go against the code. I need you to know that, and I won’t.”
“How can I trust you?” Obi-Wan deflated, the statement alone causing Anakin to shift in fear, waning at the very thing he never thought he would hear, “I can’t look at the two of you together the same anymore. I’m aware you have a connection, one that is deemed stronger than I realized, but how can you assure me one hundred percent that it’s nothing more?”
“Nothing more…” Anakin’s words trailed off, the accusation something he hadn’t let cross his mind longer than it should. He couldn’t. He knew that. “It’s not. I can assure you.”
Obi-Wan leaned forward, his elbows finding a place along his knees, that frown lessening as he took in the wide-eyed expression on Anakin’s face. The younger Jedi’s brows rose then, the words once again slipping to provide as much comfort to his Master as he could, “She hasn’t been sleeping, Master. It’s been this way for a few months now. I can’t help but know when something is bothering her. Neither of us understands it, but I can’t ignore it. I wanted to show her the younglings’ training room, that is all. Something to get her mind off of everything.” 
“The trials, included?” Obi-Wan asked, recalling his conversation with you that day prior after having seen you and Anakin together. 
“The trials?” Anakin’s brows furrowed for a moment, “Right, yes, the trials. She talked to you about them.” 
“Yes, and I don’t think it’s a good idea. She won’t be ready. It would be nearly impossible.” 
“Right, I suppose that’s true.” 
There was a lull, a sudden shift in conversation towards you, what had been keeping you up for months, for all this time, but did either of them really know? Anakin felt as if your connection was stronger, and he was able to indulge in your feelings no matter when and where he was, even going as far as to be able to hear some of your thoughts, the way they scavenged for peace. He felt as if a piece of you had been broken off and given to him, and yet he couldn’t help but feel like there was more going on in that pretty head of yours. As if there was more to the dark circles under your eyes and the steady glances you sent his way throughout the day. 
There was more, and yet he couldn't in any way try and explain it to Obi-Wan. Especially when no one, even your Master, wouldn’t be able to understand these strange feelings that plagued the both of you. It was different from mere senses or being a Jedi. He couldn’t, not without it sounding wrong, not without proving his Master right.
“And what about me?” Anakin found himself unable to ask. 
“What about you?” 
“The trials,” he corrected, having not talked about it with his Master in almost half a year, “I feel as if I’m ready.” 
“Oh, my young apprentice, there is still much to learn in the upcoming months. More than you realize,” Obi-Wan smiled comfortingly, suddenly charmed slightly by the young Jedi’s ambitions. 
“You don’t think I am ready, Master?” Anakin found a knot forming in his chest, one from frustration, for the second time in a matter of minutes. Obi-Wan had already professed to not just trusting Anakin with you, but what about the trials? What about his respectability as a Jedi?
“It’s not that, my Padawan. It’s that you are still very unpredictable. You have far less experience than most Padawans do when they compete in the trials. I have no doubt you can get there but in due time. Where there is less experience, you must make up with wisdom and caution.”
Anakin was angry and disappointed but, at most, worried. Had he been too crass, too big of himself to assume he would be in the trials that year? He thought not. He thought he had proved himself time and time again to Obi-Wan, especially when it came to you. He had protected you, ensured your comfort, and became someone, anyone you could at least have. He had done what any Jedi should when caring for someone on a mission.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan mumbled out sadly after a few lingering seconds, his eyes cast over at the Chosen One at the position he was put in, “What shall you have me do about this? The two of you?”
He had reverted the conversation away from the trials and back to the situation at hand. 
“I wasn’t aware anything had to be done, Master.”
“I don’t want to but I can’t help but fear the consequences in the future if I do nothing.”
“Trust me, Master. There is nothing going on between me and her. You have my word,” Anakin replied, his eyes refusing to blink or look away from Obi-Wan, afraid of what he would do. Afraid that somehow you would be separated, or things would change. “I’m only trying to protect her.”
Another lull between them, a second where Anakin couldn’t do anything else but wait, analyzing his Master’s expressions. It was then Obi-Wan nodded, shoulders relaxing back within his seat, unwilling to really do anything else but accept what he was being told. The force favored the two of you together, Obi-Wan could feel that. Felt it not long after you were brought to the temple. You both were strong, wise, and sometimes oblivious, but you were better when together than apart. You challenged Anakin, kept the Chosen One in line, and were a companion more than anything else. Obi-Wan had no inclination to truly do more than warn the young Jedi. 
“Alright then,” Obi-Wan said, backing down under the intense blue haze that was Anakin’s eyes. But he stopped him as the Padawan turned to leave, “Anakin?” 
“Yes, Master?”
“Go find Y/N and bring her here, please. I want her present when we meet with the Senator.” 
“The Senator?” he asked, brows furrowing as he stood frozen near the door, seeming unaware of the meeting himself. 
“Yes, Senator Amidala will be here later this afternoon to meet with us. I want her there, got it?” 
Anakin’s eyes widened, mouth parting softly unable to even answer his Master’s question. He was suddenly stuck, unable to get much further than the name that was uttered so professionally. Anakin felt his pulse speed up, and his stomach clenched in nerves. 
Senator Amidala. 
He had never thought the day would finally come. After ten years, it finally had. 
“Padmé? She will be here in the city?” 
“Yes.” 
“Why? What does she require of us?” He couldn’t help but ask. 
Obi-Wan sighed, able to hear the breathiness in the young man’s voice, his attention shifted entirely to the one he had never seemed to forget, “I am not sure, my apprentice, but we shall see. Alright, so go on.” 
“Are you an angel?”
“What?”
“An angel. I’ve heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They live on the moons of lego, I think. They’re the most beautiful creatures in the universe.”
Tumblr media
The air was stiff, the smell of the old archives enough to have you biting down on your lower lip. The basement of the public archives building was dusty and cold, cold for the amount of worn leather that sat in between the shelves. The shelves decorated with everything that hadn’t been recoded into holograms or online files. Your robes were loose around your frame, and you found yourself pulling them tight around your chest as the attendant led you through the maze of shelves. 
He stops in a far corner and goes down a hall between two shelves; it is so slim you wouldn’t be able to walk with two people side by side. Near the middle of the shelf, he pointed up towards the upper two halves, “This is all that we have. These two top shelves should have everything you’re looking for.” 
You nodded, eyes already scraping over the aging binds, reading the heathered titles with ease, heart in your throat. 
 Stars of L’âme
They were what led you to be sitting in a small corner of the public archives, at a desk hidden behind a few towering shelves, the desktop covered with a small stack of books, some thicker and older than you realized. It had been almost an hour, an hour of you flipping through pages, all while the words from your grandmother echoed within your head. 
“Two lost souls. That is something to remember most of all. This act is never random. This choice by the greater powers of our worlds. It is never a mere act of happening but by some sort of fate itself.”
“This sounds crazy,” you thought out loud as you read the descriptions of the particle examinations of the two stars as well as the whole ten pages that hypothesize how they were created outside of the stellar nurseries.
Flipping through another book next to it, you opened it to a random page to find a drawing peering back at you. One where it showed the stars as they were now, unaligned, one favoring the left and the other right. A second drawing mirrored the one next to it, but this one found the stars to almost be stacked upon one another, aligned to create two shining orbs. A small passage was found under the picture, and you realized as you read that this book took on a more mythical viewpoint of the stars. 
One that sounded like a fable unable to fully be true and yet you found yourself leaning into every single word. 
“The Stars of L’âme, having outlived centuries of people, have left the rest of us in mere darkness over the two stars regarding the possibilities and ideal scientific creations; more so how they only coalign every one hundred years. Whose its makers we can’t know, but one can be noted without reason or the ability to ignore — the physics and angling. As it is said and stated, only when the two souls it mirrors finally find one another, their hearts aligning is when the stars are found to finally shift. The previous separation of the stars follows the physical and emotional separation of the two souls prior to understanding the truth. Once both of the intended souls have passed onto the next life, the stars scatter again awaiting for their next love story within the following century.”
It sounded impossible, you couldn’t fathom the logistics as you chewed on your bottom lip, sure to leave it torn and bleeding. The rest of the world seemed to blur along the edges, the confines of reality shifting as you wished, almost pleading for your grandmother to appear — to deny this allegation altogether, to fully set all of your worries to rest. What about the stars did she want to tell you?
It all sounded like a fate that was sure to catch up with you. 
Sighing, you pushed the book away, inhaling to ease the sudden anxiety that had formed, while you pulled another one from the stack. Skimming through the table of contents, you felt your fingers fumble over the names that were presented on the page. Immediately flipping to it, you found yourself on the edge of your seat, unable to ignore the picture printed within it of a couple, the last who claimed to have been the heirs of the Stars of L’âme. They seemed normal, full of admiration as they stared at one another. 
Their birth years, you hummed in interest. It was exactly a hundred years before your own. 
Your fingers traced over the young woman’s face, it seeming not much older than you were now. She was beautiful and, more than anything, beautifully in love. Peering down at the page, you took them in but felt your stomach fall slightly as you noticed it.  
A set of matching scars along their forearms, just as long and thick, matching in every way from the pale coloring to the way it extended from their wrist to halfway across their forearms. Your brows raised in interest, beginning to read the passages that followed, throat tightened at the mere possibilities of what that could have meant. 
You had only gotten halfway through the first page, which hadn’t revealed any new information or anything about the scars when you felt two hands take hold of your chair behind you. You jumped slightly at the feeling of their thumbs pressed along your shoulder blades and their looming form along your back. 
“Hey.” The voice startled you, but you relaxed instantly at the familiarity paired with the softness of it. 
Glancing up, you met those blue eyes of his, staring down at yours with piqued interest, that smirk of his forming as he took in how he had scared you. You must not have felt him approaching, both surprised by it and not knowing that when your mind was so occupied in anything else, you didn’t hear or feel anything that was close to you. 
You smacked his hand slightly, heart rising and falling in surprise, “What are you doing?” 
“Me?” he laughed, eyes flickering over the stacks of books spread along the desk, “What are you doing?”
Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, you began to close the books around you, ignoring his question altogether, “Nothing I just—” 
“Please, I could feel you deep in your thoughts from three miles away,” Anakin chuckled, leaning even more over your shoulder, his brows furrowing as he tried to catch sight of what you were reading about, his eyes finding the black and white picture of the couple staring back at him, “What has you thinking so fucking hard?” 
“Anakin,” you warned, trying to close the book before he could take it but his hand smacked against the page of the book enough that it echoed in the small corner of the archives. His brows furrowed slightly down at you while his other hand firmly took a hold of your wrist to stop you from trying to take it. 
“The Stars of L’âme,” he read outline, the foreign word a struggle upon his tongue, but he understood enough to peer back over you and your slumped frame, a sheepish look appearing across your face. “Y/N…” 
Feeling his impending stare and the sudden speed of your pulse, you were ripping your hand out of his and taking the book from him. Closing it loudly, you shoved it to the other side of the desk with all the rest, some you hadn’t even gotten to yet. 
“It’s nothing okay,” you urged but he could see right through you. It was the easiest thing. 
“Right, nothing. It’s not like, it has you sneaking off here in the middle of the day. It’s about your vision, isn’t it?” he asked, leaning down further, his arm hanging off your shoulder, the small touch feeling like too much at that moment. 
“We don’t know if it was vision,” you argued, but at the sudden curl of his lips, it was clear he didn’t believe it to be anything other than that. 
“Well, you could have told me, you know. I could’ve helped,” he offered carefully, with no sarcasm or teasing tone in sight. It had your heart softening, your embarrassment fading enough that you were sure your resolve would follow. 
You were scared, though. Scared of what you would find out. Scared that this strange connection with him had something to do with this. You were just scared, period. 
“No, you couldn’t have,” you replied, the tone and your words stinging him slightly evident in the slight cringe that appeared on his face. 
He ignored it. “Well, did you find anything?”
“No, not anything useful.”
Before he could say anything else, his eyes just searching yours, you found yourself picking at your nails, a sense of nervousness forming. “What are you doing here?” 
“Obi-Wan sent me to find you,” he said, not missing a single beat. 
You straightened up, “What?” 
“It’s fine,” he noticed the panic right away, enough that his hand slipped to your shoulder with ease, his torso somehow pressed along your back enough that you relaxed, “We just have to get back. Senator Amidala will be arriving soon.” 
“A Senator?” 
Even as you said it, you couldn’t ignore the sudden pause that appeared as Anakin said her name. Like he had to prepare how to exactly say it. The corners of his lips quirked up slightly, and it caused your stomach to twist slightly, a sick feeling appearing at the implications of what that could mean. Not quite understanding it. 
“Yeah, she has requested a meeting with us for some reason. Master just wants us back to prepare for her arrival.” 
You wanted to ask more, deter from this task at hand, and put your attention back into the books, but you knew you couldn’t. Not then. Not with him there. Not when you both possibly had been assigned to something by the council. It was the only reason that came to mind that you were meeting with this Senator. It filled you with dread, a sudden uneasiness forming at the responsibility that could possibly linger. 
There was nothing else to do though but nod and stand from the small desk. With one stack of books in your hands and the other in Anakin’s you returned them to the attendant, thanking him, before following Anakin out of the public archives. His eyes followed yours for a brief moment before he lead you further into the city towards the temple. 
His attention drifted, you felt it first. In your chest, the way that string between you seemed to wane slightly while he stared forward, voice silent. A furrowed expression played along his features, one that had you mesmerized, able to feel the weight of his deep thoughts but without the implications of them. Still a few blocks from the temple, you couldn’t help but ask. 
“What is it?” 
Your voice, almost like a solace, pulled his eyes to you, a mere hum emitting from his pink lips.
“I can see your brain turning over there. Can practically feel it suffocating me as well, so what is it?”
“It’s nothing,” he replied, the same words you had said to him before in the pubic archives hitting you hard. 
“Ani…” 
“I’m just wondering why they require us, is all? What the council wants from us?” he explained, but you couldn’t believe him. 
Not when a sudden thickness seemed to appear in your chest from the mere effect on him upon even mentioning the Senator’s name. A devastation that seemed to only weigh heavier on you the longer you sat in silence, it only being confirmed as you stood in the elevator of Senator Amidala’s building, leading you, Anakin, and Master Kenobi up to her penthouse. 
Her name was one you had heard of; it was hard not to when you previously had a life involved within government, often needing to interact with the Senate, yet you couldn’t place her face with the name. You hadn’t met, that you were sure of, and yet the sudden thought of doing so left you afraid. Afraid as silence loomed with Anakin’s foot tapping unsteadily and his breath uneasy. 
You turned to look at him as he began to brush his hands along his robes, smoothing out any wrinkles. Obi-Wan noticed it, too, and met your stare with a certain smile you couldn’t place. As if he knew something you didn’t or rather found amusement from the Padawan’s actions. 
“You seem a little on edge,” Obi-Wan said then, gaining Anakin’s nervous attention. 
“Not at all,” Anakin denied, his eyes somehow flickering to yours, able to feel you staring at him. 
“I haven’t felt you this tense since we fell into that nest of Gundarks.” 
“You fell into that nightmare, Master, and I rescued you, remember?” He was smug about it, but only slightly. 
“Oh, yes.”
You found yourself subtly bumping your arm with Anakin's, while Master didn’t react as you imagined he would. Instead, a deep-setted laugh appeared one that caused Anakin to start laughing as well, even as his blue eyes flickered over to your form, still leaning close to him. 
Shaking his head at his Master, Obi-Wan set his sights back on the Padawan, barely even acknowledging your close presence. “You’re sweating. Relax. Take a deep breath.”
Obi-Wan watched the subtle interaction that occurred then. The way your face furrowed in confusion, almost a slight worry pulling your lips into a fine line, and a hesitancy on Anakin’s part. His head tilted slightly in your direction, and you found his blue orbs looking at you from the corner of his eye before replying. 
“I haven’t seen her in ten years, Master,” he admitted, exhaling slowly, his nerves so palpable then. 
A small smile appeared on Obi-Wan’s face, and you couldn’t come to understand it, the slight amusement that appeared over Anakin’s nervousness. You couldn’t, not as your own reaction was barely hideable. You turned to face the elevator doors in front of you, feeling suddenly inclined to take a step away from Anakin, enough that your arm was no longer brushing his. 
A thought that you couldn’t ignore even when the three of you stepped off the elevator to greet a Junior Representative who went by Jar Jar. The tall lanky creature bypassed your attention rather quickly as you couldn’t help but keep sending glances over to Anakin. 
Worst of all, you didn’t even know why you cared so much. What about this Senator could have you so uncomfortable? Threatened over what? Your time with Anakin. 
What good would it do anymore? 
Surely Master Obi-Wan would do something to come between the two of you to ensure his spot on the council stays and, in his mind, keep the two of you from violating the code.
Your feet dragged slightly across the floor, even as Jar Jar led you away from the elevator into another room of the penthouse, revealing a few figures standing off by the windows. You inhaled slowly to find one of them turn, and a smile appeared across her face. She had to have been the Senator, and it brought a certain nervous twitch in your fingers. 
She was young. Young and beautiful and elegant. Everything that a representative was supposed to be. Everything that a queen was supposed to be; in her long dress, decorated in glitter and the finest materials with her hair pulled back out of her face, drawing attention to her soft features. Hiding slightly behind Anakin, body turned away from him, you watched as Obi-Wan bowed to greet her. “Pleasure to see you again, my lady.”
“It’s been far too long, Master Kenobi,” she greeted back, her voice mature, sounding professional, and as if it was going to hold Anakin’s attention forever. It seemed he had gotten hers, too, as she looked over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, a curious smile forming at the sight before her, “Ani?” 
The mere shortened version of his name curling from her tongue so effortlessly brought another wave of shock through you, one that stung far worse than you realized. Even as it sounded so casual, so perfect, that he had to step forward a shy smile of his own forming unable to keep his eyes from taking her in. 
“My goodness you’ve grown.”
“So have you. Grown more beautiful, I mean,” he admitted, it slipping enough to have everyone’s eyes on him, “Well, for a Senator, I mean.”
He chuckled awkwardly, trying to rid the surprised look of awe that appeared on his face. She smiled back one bashful as they both noted the way Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder to you in slight understanding. One you hadn’t known for sure until then. That, in fact, this Senator, Senator Amidala, knew Anakin, and he very much knew her. 
“Huh Ani, you’ll always be that little boy I knew in Tatooine.” 
His expression faltered; you saw it in the way his shoulders dropped, his smile faltering at her subtly shutting down his advances. Quickly, a mere blip as she then noticed you, too, lingering back behind the taller man, fingers folded together. She looked at the robes, the tight-fitting navy ones that appeared somehow pretty on you, and the way your hair was pulled tightly out of your face, revealing a complexion that seemed so clear. 
Her dark brow arched in curiosity, finding you already looking at her, “I’m afraid we haven’t ever met.” 
Sighing, you stepped forward, already able to feel both expectant looks from the two of me in front of you. Obi-Wan, taking hold of your forearm, gently brought you closer, enough that you were standing in between him and Anakin, suddenly feeling trapped and under the watchful gaze of the Senator. 
Her eyes glanced from Anakin to you, the way his attention suddenly seemed to be on your profile, trying to take in everything about your expression. 
“This is my second Padawan—” 
“Second?” Padmé chuckled in surprise, “You have two now? I wasn’t sure if that was even allowed.” 
“There are exceptions. The Council granted me this one ask.” 
Her smile widened then, eyes never leaving yours as she spoke, “Lucky Ani. I’m sure the extra challenge benefits him.”
It was then she stepped closer, offering an outstretched hand to you. With a second of hesitation, you met her advance, slipping your own hand in hers for her to shake. 
“Senator Padmé Amidala.” 
You nodded, “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” 
At the sound of your name, it seeming so long since it was even pronounced out loud together, her hand stopped, the shaking ceasing while a curious look now filling her eyes, one of recognition slightly. “Y/L/N?” 
“Yes?” 
“Hm, that’s a familiar name, one I feel is common. Have we, by chance, met before?” she observed, eyes glancing to the two men on the other side of you. Anakin’s hands tightened, a furrow appearing between his brows as he looked between her and you. His jaw ticked as he met the Senator’s gaze. 
It was then, the Padawan stepped forward, blocking you slightly from her and her questions. His body broke your hand from hers, and you couldn’t help but questionably share a look with your Master as Anakin interrupted, “We should sit down, my lady. Talk about why we’re really here.”
You looked expectantly from Anakin over to Obi-Wan to find another wave of confusion pass over his features. But no one dared to say anything against the Chosen One and entered the living room. Sitting across from the Senator, you somehow once again were sat between the two men. They both leaned in, attention put fully on Padmé, and though you should have been doing the same, a discomfort had formed in your chest. So much so that your mind seemed to drift elsewhere, to the Padawan sat next to you more so. 
Why had he not told you he had known Senator Amidala? What could have been within their past that he hadn’t or wished not to? There was something he wasn’t telling you clearly by the way Obi-Wan had been alluding to his nerves in the elevator. Even when you had asked him earlier, before arriving, what had been on his mind, he had brushed you off. Something he hadn’t done in months, not since before you two had come to terms with what it meant being Padawans alongside one another. Even as you could feel the gentleness of his pulse quickening while his eyes doted on her, he still tried to hide it from you. 
“I don’t need more security. I need answers. I want to know who is trying to kill me.”
“We’re here to protect you, Senator,” Obi-Wan assured, “Not to start an investigation.”
You found yourself lulling away, not able to pay attention until Anakin spoke up from beside you with such a conviction that it had you staring at him, jaw tense. “We will find out who is trying to kill you, Padmé. I promise you.” 
You felt Obi-Wan peering past you at Anakin, taken aback himself but the sudden response that was pulled so freely from the young man without even a simple thought. “We will not exceed our mandate, my young Padawan learner.” 
Anakin ignored the looks the both of you were giving him, instead finding much of his focus back on the beautiful Senator, “I meant it in the interest of protecting her, Master. Of course.” 
“We will not go through this exercise again, Anakin,” Obi-Wan scolded; it was enough to have both you and the Senator following the small squealing match between the two men, “And you will pay attention to my lead.” 
“Why? Why else do you think we were assigned to her if not to find the killer. Protection is a job for local security, not Jedi. It’s overkill, Master. Investigation is implied in our mandate,” he challenged, and you couldn’t stop yourself then but to reach over and pinch his arm through his robes. He stiffened under your sudden touch, a frown appearing across his lips as he hissed, “Ow. What?” 
You sent him a warning look, brows furrowed slightly as you sensed the frustrations and slight embarrassment at the reality of Anakin defying Obi-Wan in front of others, especially Senator Amidala. He was trying to be prideful, show off his wisdom and bravery in turn to holding her attention. 
“We will do exactly as the council has instructed,” Obi-Wan stated. 
Anakin looked away from you at the sight of your soft glare to find the eyes of your Master. Silence filled the room then, a waiting game of who would back down first.
“And you will learn your place young one.”
There was another pause, a moment where Anakin’s lip folded into itself into a small pout, his head bowing slightly under the intense gaze of Obi-Wan. Your Master took a second to exhale, letting the frustrations fade as he turned back to face the Senator, her eyes still glancing between the two men.
“Perhaps with merely your presence, the mystery surrounding this threat will be revealed,” she said, breaking the tensions slightly, but you found yourself stiffening at the sight of her soft gaze meeting Anakin’s sunken form. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will retire.”
The Senator stood with her Representatives following, as well as Obi-Wan, who bowed in a sign of respect. You felt frozen, though, feet glued to the ground even as Anakin had stood too. You felt your Master’s eyes on you then, a gentle glare settling along the side of your face, but you could only stare forward, up at the Senator, stomach clenched, a dread looming over your head. One that had begun as soon as Anakin had even said her name in the public archives. Senator Amidala. 
Knowing how disrespectful you were being, you stood, hands folded gently behind your back. She took you in once more, a curious glint forming, and before you had even realized, she was smiling softly, “Actually, before I do. Y/N, is it? May I speak with you for a minute? I believe I owe you the honor of becoming more acquainted.” 
The air had been sucked from your lungs. That’s what you believed as you stood with your mouth becoming dryer by the second as all eyes in the room found you, your frame taller than the Senator and yet seeming suddenly afraid. It wasn’t that you were afraid of her, or her status. You were supposed to be the next queen of Bakura, there was no one who could intimidate you by their power alone. No, the truth was you were afraid of her because of Anakin, because of how he had blatantly felt about her, always had it seemed. 
Obi-Wan was staring at you expectantly, and you knew that you couldn’t deny the Senator of this request, especially considering you were as much her protector as the rest of them. But you were hesitant, it only deepening as you felt a warm palm suddenly pressed along your lower back. Even though your thick robes, the touch was so much, almost making your skin vibrate at its sudden appearance. 
Glancing up at Anakin, his towering frame too became way too much, his blue eyes set on yours suddenly, almost like it had been the first time since you both had entered the room with the Senator. He was hesitant to let you go, something you didn’t understand then because how could you?
Offering him a gentle nod, you smiled towards the Senator, who had silently been watching the interaction, curious, it seemed, by the intentions behind Anakin’s lingering touch. You wouldn’t grant her any more time to think about it as you gestured towards the door for her to lead the way. She seemed pleased, and as you followed her out of the sitting room, you could feel the Chosen One’s intense gaze stained across your back the whole entire walk out of the room. 
“He’s protective,” she said then, as soon as you had rounded the corner into a nearby hall, away from everyone else. 
Her observation had you almost tripping over your feet, as well as over the possibility that she had only asked to speak to you to talk about Anakin. It made your blood settle, an inkling of nerves appearing in your chest of how this all would go.
Something in you told you, it would all fall apart. Maybe not now, or tomorrow, but eventually and you would be the one left crumbled away in the dust. 
You tried to smile, but you found it more so resembled a cringe, “Yes, he is. Though at times he doesn’t need to be.” 
She hummed then as if it was something she could relate to and understand completely. “He only means well. Has been told his whole life of those he must protect, of his responsibilities presented from the prophecy.” 
“Yes, but I must say it can be too much. It feels as if he is undermining me in front of you Senator, but I guess he can’t quite help it.” 
Her dark brow arched then, interest piquing as your admission slipped. Noticing the way she waited, waited for you to explain, you felt your face fall, cheeks heating up at what you had done. It was something you knew Anakin wished people didn’t know about. Who you were before you arrived at the temple and became a Padawan in training. He worried about what could happen if people knew, knew that the princess of Bakura was alive. Yet, you couldn’t help but reveal it all to her, the woman who held his attention so easily just from her presence alone. She wouldn’t ever have to speak, and you knew Anakin wouldn’t care — just to stare at her all day would be a privilege in his eyes. 
“Y/L/N,” she said it as almost a mere whisper, as if she was trying to place it, the familiarity, the essence behind the name. A name that once filled you with so much power. “I know it from somewhere. I know I do. I suppose there is a reason, isn’t there? Why did Anakin stop me from asking before? Why he is so protective?”
“Senator, you have to understand, I wasn’t always a Jedi. I only became Master Kenobi’s Padawan some time ago,” you exhaled then, knowing there was no way around it, not if she would be there everyday intervening in every interaction, in every sole moment you once had with him to yourself, “My father sent Obi-Wan and Anakin to me under dire circumstances.” 
“Y/L/N,” she repeated it slowly, almost afraid to say it out loud, but as she heard it, the sound of it coming from her own tongue, her eyes widened in realization. “Your father, Y/F/N  Y/L/N, the king of Bakura.” 
“You understand then? Why. He is protective, Senator, but merely out of obligation." You, unable to stop yourself from letting the truth spill over and over, said it so casually as if to put more distance between you and Anakin, an explanation for his affection.
“I can see why you would see it that way, but you have to know for Ani, it is never out of obligation,” she explained softly, her expression unreadable as she spoke of him, “Though it’s been years since we parted, I know that he doesn’t take the weight of it on thoughtlessly. He is very passionate; he doesn’t act unless it is in accordance with his heart. And for what it’s worth, I offer my deepest condolences, your highness.” 
You sighed, only able to offer a sad smile, chest clenching at the title, one you only heard now when Anakin wished to tease you, sure to bring a smile to your face. It sounded so wrong then coming from her, far too formal for a person you only shared a resemblance to. You weren’t her anymore, the princess, the future queen. You felt as if it was a life you hadn’t even lived. 
“A princess turned Jedi,” she chuckled, somehow it never once sounded cruel. It couldn’t, you knew that, even with Anakin swooning over the sight of her, the sudden twang that appeared within your chest, nothing she ever did could be done out of cruelty. “That’s a very powerful thing. I can tell by the way you’re looking at me, you haven’t accepted that yet.”
You couldn’t accept anything she was saying to you, your mind drifting rather to the loud feelings one room away, the way they were hurt like a puppy that had just been kicked — somehow losing all respectability because of one woman. 
“Well, I will leave you,” she offered then, noting the frown across your face, “I shall retire for the night, but just know, I am glad Master Kenobi and Ani were able to promise your protection as well as they will mine.”
With one last smile, one just as radiant as all the rest, you watched her retreat further into the hall towards the elevator. As soon as her presence was gone, you exhaled, no relief felt at the sudden challenge that this mission had brought. It seemed it all would be different then, even down to the pull you felt in your chest when it came to Anakin Skywalker. 
Perhaps Obi-Wan had been right. 
Perhaps the stars were right, too, about something you couldn’t quite explain for any other reason. 
Yet you knew it couldn’t be, not even if you were to outlive the pain that surely would succumb to you if it were true. 
Evident enough, as you stepped back into the room, Obi-Wan’s frame retreated with one of the Senator’s security and Anakin still where you had left him, in the middle of the room, that worried expression still present on his face. You approached slowly, his back turned to you, leaving nothing but the small ponytail and the swallowing robes to be remembered in your mind for that moment. An urgency was evident in his frame, something you could feel and sense even before you had heard his voice, even before you had heard what he said. 
The very thing you hadn’t expected or wished to ever hear again. 
 “I’ve thought about her every day since we’ve parted, and she’s forgotten me completely.”
Tumblr media
You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. You felt confined to that one spot, even as the bustle continued around you. As people filtered in and out of the room, you couldn’t fucking move. You thought you would’ve been fine. Come nightfall, come the time when the lights within the large penthouse were dimmed, nothing but a few lamps allowing the city to really glow and the stars to be vibrant. Yet as you sat there, knees hugged closely to your chest, it still felt different, suddenly everything did. In a matter of one day, the mere act of staring up at the sky could no longer provide comfort. Especially as a certain dullness seemed to ignite within your chest that hadn’t been there before. 
“Master has gone to check the perimeter. The corridors are clear, too. How are things up here?” 
His voice was too much for you, somehow pulling you from the depths of your mind. You didn’t look away from the window. You wouldn’t, not even as his footsteps echoed along the floor, his frame so close then and towering over you. He was warm and always had been far too inviting for you. It was annoying. 
“Hey,” he spoke again, but you found yourself still unwilling to turn to speak, to give in. He huffed then in frustration, your silence something he never liked to hear. “Y/N?” 
You couldn’t take it, not if it were true. It had been one hundred years since the stars had last aligned, chosen a couple to use, to live through. Anakin was too much, too enticing, too beautiful, too powerful. He had control over you, the way you felt, what you thought about. It was dangerous. 
“It’s fine for you to do this in the temple. Ignore me, but here? We’re on a mission, on orders by the council itself. To ensure Padmé’s protection, you can’t do this. Not here,” he scolded, his tone suddenly hardening.
It seemed he had become short with you enough that you hadn’t even noticed the gentle flick of his wrist, but you felt it as soon as it happened. The unseen force of your face being turned towards him, harsher than you thought it would be. Forced to look at him, you glared, hating the way he used the force on you. His blue eyes stared down at you, tracing the etchings of your expression, the way it was anything but soft. His hand hung at his side, fingers outstretched, but they relaxed upon realizing how you felt, able to match it with the sudden pull in his chest. 
“She is fine,” you finally said, the words cold upon your tongue. 
His jaw tensed, “You’re upset with me.”
“I’m not,” you rebutted, “I just wish you wouldn’t handle me like that.” 
“What do you mean?” He said, jaw loosening slightly to let a smile appear; it was small, almost appearing like a smirk. His annoyance faded to be replaced by something else, and you couldn’t deny that his playfulness only made you angrier. 
“Stop it. Don’t look at me like that.” 
“Like what?” he chuckled amusingly. 
You stood then, feeling the confines start to bend, melting at the will that was his pretty eyes and bashful smile. Your frustrations were no match for Anakin Skywalker, especially when he looked at you like that. 
“I’m supposed to be mad at you,” you professed, reaching out to shove him back lightly, but his hands took hold of both your wrists, stopping the movement short. Suddenly, you felt trapped; the warmth of his fingertips on your skin was the only thing you could focus on. 
“Why?” he asked, a single brow raising with interest, “What did I do?” 
You shoved it all down then; the need to lean into his touch, to relax under his gaze, all of it, though it seemed the stars were in favor of such an action. Unless was this how it had always felt for everyone? This act of feeling completely under someone else’s control, as if the weight of the heart could defy any other human emotion. 
“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew Senator Amidala?” You ripped your hands free from his. 
“Really?” he asked, almost surprised that out of everything, it could be that, “That’s what you're upset about? That I hadn’t told you about Padmé?”
“Yes, you acted as if she were just any other Senator. That this mission isn’t any different.” 
“It’s not,” he replied, quicker than you thought he would. 
“Anakin, don’t do that. Don’t lie,” you sighed, shoulders deflating, all of your confidence leaving you, as well as the warmth that seemed to once appear in your chest at being able to sense what he felt, “You are quite fond of her.” 
That teasing on his end was gone then, his expression rigid, breath uneven under your eyes. He glanced around the room quickly, frustration forming again, one that appeared so much like it had earlier when he was arguing with Obi-Wan. Except this time, it was being directed towards you. “And so what if I am? What, you’re going to go and tell Master about this?” 
You shook your head, trying to hold it all together, trying to be so strong to block him out at that moment, to keep him from being able to feel just how much it had hurt you. You couldn’t even lie to yourself about it; it had pained you to hear the simple admission. “I don’t have to tell him anything, Anakin. It is quite obvious how you feel.” 
“Which is what?” he demanded from you, voice low but cold, “You and I both know the truth that is our fate. Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden, so even if I did feel whatever it is that I do, nothing could ever happen.” 
That furrow in his brow had reappeared as he scowled down at you. Suddenly, so much anger was apparent. You could feel it — in the way goosebumps arose on your skin, and your pulse seemed to match his. The way it had sped up. The vein in the side of his neck was erect as he glared once again, no longer just angry about the Senator’s wishes to not engage in his advances but the rules that had confined his life.
“But then there’s compassion,” you whispered, the words almost coming out as a mumble. 
His face twitched at your words, almost as if it could soothe and fix everything. The anger melted away, and you were met with the innocence that still filled his blue eyes. “Compassion?” 
“It’s essential to a Jedi’s life. Compassion, which could be defined as unconditional love. In some ways, some might say, we are encouraged to love.”
255 notes · View notes
agi-ppangx · 9 months
Text
💭childhood friends to lovers (100 followers special)
chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“some things never change, huh?” you heard jeongin’s voice coming from the porch. you looked up to see him approaching you, the sun beginning to set in the background. 
jeongin and you were inseparable for as long as you could remember. he lived across the street and you always spent time together thanks to your parents being really good friends. you played almost every day, hanging out in your backyard or in his house, never getting tired of each other. as children, you knew all your secrets and fears, you trusted each other with your lives and swore you were never going to grow apart. 
but time verified your friendship and you failed to maintain such a tight bond. you didn’t have any arguments, you just simply started to drift apart in high school. jeongin started to spend less and less time with you, too caught up with his new friends. you tried to fight for your friendship, you believed that not everything was lost, but every time you wanted to talk to him, he would brush you off and leave without a word. and even though you weren’t as close as before anymore, one day you noticed you were staring a bit too much at jeongin, admiring him from afar. he always seemed so happy with his group of friends, hanging out with them every day after school and attending parties with them. and even if you tried to be happy for him you couldn’t stop the jealousy spreading through your body. because you were supposed to do these things with him, you were supposed to stay friends. maybe even more than friends, you thought to yourself one day. but then you completely parted ways, going to college and having absolutely no clue what was going on with each other.
until now. your parents decided to invite jeongin's family for dinner, since they haven't properly talked with his parents in years. with that, they thought that it would be a great idea for you and jeongin to reconnect and spend some time together, just like you used to as kids.
"you still use the same swing," jeongin continued, sitting next to you on the swing set. you looked at him, kind of confused and he clarified. "you always used the one on the left. you claimed it can go higher." you scoffed at his words. “because it does go higher,” you giggled and so did jeongin. then the silence settled between you two and you just sat there, trying to gather thoughts and actually start a proper conversation. you wanted to ask him so many things - what do you major in at college? are you dating anyone? why did you move away from me without a word? 
“how have you been lately?” it was jeongin who broke the silence first, not looking at you. his voice was faint, almost unsure, as if he was afraid. you thought about your response for a moment and then spoke softly, “i’m fine, just kind of tired of everything.” jeongin nodded, as if he was trying to say me too. “i missed you,” he then whispered and it made you finally look up at him. the air between you got thicker, your heart was racing and you didn’t know if you were mad at him or relieved that he missed you just as you missed him. “then why didn’t you call me? or message me? you could’ve done anything, i don’t understand why you didn’t,” you said eventually, too tired to even try to lie and tell him “oh i missed you too, we should totally forget about all those years we didn’t spend together and catch up”. you needed some kind of explanation. jeongin sighed loudly at your words. “i- i don’t know… i guess i was afraid?” he responded, though it sounded more like a question rather than a statement. “afraid of what?” you asked, trying to get him speaking. he started this whole i missed you conversation and now he needed to tell you everything if he wanted to restore your relationship.
jeongin was silent, he didn’t respond to your question and you started to grow impatient. “i know that… when people grow up they tend to part their ways, it’s normal and it happened to us. what i didn’t like is that you suddenly started treating me like air when i tried to talk to you and now you come back and say you missed me,” you hissed through clenched teeth and got up from the swing. “well, guess what, i missed you too, but i actually made an effort to save this friendship while you decided to completely ignore me,” you continued and felt jeongin’s fingers wrap around your wrist. “yn, i-” “i just think it’s unfair, because you come here from nowhere, saying you missed me, when it’s me who sent you birthday wishes every year, it's me who left all those christmas gifts for you in your parents’ house and it’s me who offered meeting up a few times and all those times you ignored me, you never responded, you never said a stupid thank you, you just left me and the worst thing is that i still like you and i still want to be with you and-” you stopped, suddenly aware that you may have confessed a bit too much. you felt your cheeks grow warmer and the tears started to wail in your eyes. you desperately tried to blink them away, not wanting jeongin to see you crying, but he already got up and stood right in front of you. he wiped the single tear from your face that managed to fall down and hugged you tightly. you wanted to escape his embrace at first, but then you simply gave up and let yourself cry into his chest. you wanted to remember this moment, in case you ruined everything and your friendship was lost. 
“i’m really sorry,” jeongin whispered into your hair. “i was acting like an asshole, i- i was so scared to admit that you’re more than a friend to me that i decided to push you away. and i know it's a shitty explanation and i understand if you don’t forgive me, but i’m genuinely sorry for my behaviour,” he continued, his voice unstable. you pulled away a bit to look him in the eyes. more than a friend? “you did act like an asshole, i must admit,” you started slowly, wiping your eyes. “and it hurt me, it still hurts, but… i wanna give you a chance, because i like you a bit too much and- and i’m just tired of this whole situation,” you mumbled and hugged him again to hide your rosy cheeks. jeongin started gently stroking your head, rocking you side to side. “i’ve never purposefully meant to hurt you but i know i have and i want you to know i’ll do anything to atone for my actions.” you giggled at his serious tone and pulled away once again. “anything?” you asked him, your gaze wandered between his eyes and his lips. “anything.” “then kiss me,” you whispered, leaning closer and closer to him with every passing second. “with pleasure,” he responded and captured your lips in a soft kiss. not everything was said and you both knew you were in for a serious conversation, but in that moment your heart was finally full after so many years of longing and you thought that it was more than enough for then. 
Tumblr media
feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽
431 notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 3 months
Note
hiii, could you please write a peter fic based on you are in love by taylor swift??
*cleaning out my inbox*
‘One look, dark room. Meant just for you, time moved too fast, you play it back.’
Your eyes danced across the room until you found Peter’s, he was on the opposite wall but connected eyesight when you did. Neither of you blinked or tilted your head, just a single glance and you both knew what it meant. 
Peter politely ended his conversation and you wrapped up yours, there wasn’t a reason to look back for him. You met him at the front door, it took you back to the first night you met. A party a friend threw, he was a friend of a friend and wasn’t even supposed to be there, but fate aligned. 
You locked eyes with him across the kitchen, it was instant, you both moved in tandem until you met in the middle and talked for hours. 
This time, he’s your boyfriend. 
“Ready?” 
“God, yes.” 
—-----------------------
‘Buttons on a coat, light hearted joke. No proof, not much. But you saw enough.’ 
You hadn’t expected much, he had seemed nice but so had every other guy you tried to date. It always started with them as  prince charming but then after a few dates you realized why you were single. 
Until the sixth date with Peter, you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it doesn’t seem like it will, what started as a lunch date bled into the evening, currently sitting on the green of central park looking over the playground. 
You smile and banter back and forth with Peter, you don't remember the last time conversation flowed so easily between you and a suitable dater. 
The air started to drop with the threat of fall approaching, you hadn’t planned to spend the evening talking with Peter in the outside air but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, everything new you learned about him made admiration blossom in your chest. 
You’re shivering but haven’t noticed, Peter had. 
While you’re in the middle of explaining your favorite book plot he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, it makes you stop talking. The warm wool eloped your shoulders, you were about to ask but he stopped you. 
“I need you to stop chattering your teeth if I want to hear how this ends.” 
You feel warmth hit your cheeks but you shake your head softly and pick up where you paused.
—----------------------
‘Small talk, he drives. Coffee at midnight.’
“I’m going to fail this test and then I’m going to fail the course and then I’ll have to drop out.” You sigh heavily and frown at your laptop, “there’s no other option.”
Peter’s trying to think of something quick, he only has one idea. 
“I can think of another,” you peer at him and find yourself being tugged up by his outstretched hand, following him without another question. You watch Peter move around the kitchen, his task revealed quickly. 
“It’s midnight! You should go to bed and leave me to suffer on your futon.” Peter has none of it, spooning coffee grounds into his french press. You complimented it the first time he made you breakfast the morning after, he told you it was less about being fancy and more about being poor. 
There’s been more and more of those lately. You wouldn’t change it for a thing. 
“I’m craving coffee, that’s all.” You know him enough to know he doesn’t really like coffee, but struggles through a cup just so you don’t feel guilty about him making only you a cup. 
“I think you’re lying about that. I actually think you lie about liking coffee.” He’s been caught, the look on his face says it all. He’s amused, he likes that you’re figuring him out as much as he is you. “I like that it gives me something to do for you.” 
You bite back a smile, you haven’t felt this good in awhile. 
—------------------
‘You keep his shirt, he keeps his word. And for once, you let go. Of your fears and your ghosts.’ 
“Good morning.” You wash your eyes over his skin, you’re so thankful for last night you ignore his greeting to move around his kitchen counter for a kiss. Peter’s hands scrunch the fabric of his shirt over your waist, “nice pajamas, are they exclusive?” 
You nod and give a chaste kiss, “designer exclusive. They came from this super hot guy I’ve been seeing.” 
Not talking, not hooking up, not friends. Seeing. You can’t remember the last time you’ve said that, or the last time they were spoken proudly. Peter’s eyebrows raise, “you’ve been seeing someone? Do I need to fight him?” 
You can sense it before it happens, your hands clutch his over your hips. “I’m not wearing underwear!” Peter gives you a funny look, you squeal when you’re picked up and set down, your feet lightly kicking cabinets. 
“Good thing the guy you’ve been seeing doesn’t mind.” You lick your bottom lip, last night wasn’t enough, you need his morning too. “Then I’m sure he wouldn’t mind giving me a kiss.” Your knees push open when he rests between them, you lean up into his mouth, and gasp when his hand pushes up your thigh. 
Slow kisses, he presses into you. A hum pulls from the back of your throat when his trailing hand finds-
“Fuck. Peter, the toast is burning!” 
—-------
‘You kiss on sidewalks. You fight, then you talk.’ 
Peter pulls you closer, you think it’s less about safety and more about keeping you next to him. You wonder if he still thinks about last week, you still do. You couldn’t admit the truth, the whole reason you pushed him out. 
But you can now, and it’s at the tip of your tongue and you can’t hold it in any longer. 
“It scares me how much I like you.” Quiet. You assume he didn’t hear you, it’d be the only reason he didn’t respond. You almost say it again but that much admission scared you. A kiss to your forehead. “It doesn’t scare me.” 
“It doesn’t?” Not even when you pushed him away? Not even when you shut down? Not even when-
“Not even a little.” 
—-------
‘You can hear it in the silence.’ 
A bowl pushed into your hands, you’ve refused to speak to Peter for three hours and he doesn’t mind one bit. But he still made you dinner. 
‘You can feel it on the way home.’ 
A dozen kisses, “let me know the second you’re home, okay?” And you felt each one on the way. 
‘You can see it with the lights out.’ 
It’s the middle of the night and you’re tugged into Peter’s chest after a slight rumble from the sky. You said once that you were scared of thunder as a kid, but he’s taking no chances and letting you know he’s there and you’re safe. 
‘You are in love. True love.’ 
169 notes · View notes