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#beyond that? i know what it is but i can’t possibly explain it
aphelea · 10 months
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i want to talk about my keefitz au so bad but the issue is it’s mostly just blobs of sound in my head and not actually like. logical words
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alexandreakarev · 2 years
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This is a BLOG SET UP tag drop.  Wishlist, answered, promos, about blog, permanent starter call, stats are all tags under the cut. This tag set up are different quotes for all the tags in this section.
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* … ( OOC : ramblings. ) › ❝ she has a mouth like unswept glass. it will CUT you when you least expect it. ❞ * … ( OOC : ooc answered. ) › ❝ you have the words to change a nation and yet? you’ve been BITING your tongue. ❞ * … ( OOC : about the mun. ) › ❝ she has kind of said too much. and you’ve said ENOUGH. promise that she is just another narcissist. ❞ * … ( OOC : original poetry. ) › ❝ prefers her work to be RECOGNISED rather than hidden. either way? she won’t go speechless. ❞ * … ( OOC : self promo. ) › ❝ a little self-promo featured on the dash never really KILLED anyone. has it? ❞ * … ( OOC : promo. ) › ❝ the best people completely DESERVING of all of your love & attention on shining spotlights of their own. ❞ * … ( OOC : musings. ) › ❝ she is brave and STRONG and broken all at once. ❞ * … ( OOC : nsfw. ) › ❝ mascara runnin’ and lipstick smudged. wearing a red wine stained dress with a hint of the DEVIL in her eyes. ❞ * … ( OOC : desires. ) › ❝ took her hours just to do her makeup right. if you’re the reason it gets ruined she’ll be PISSED tonight. ❞ * … ( OOC : wanted plots. ) › ❝ wish I never hung up the phone like I did. WISH you knew that I’d never forget you as long as I live. ❞ * … ( OOC : wishlist. ) › ❝ let a shooting star run across a MIDNIGHT sky. throw a coin into a wishing well. make a wish now. ❞ * … ( OOC : ask meme. ) › ❝ she hates playing MIND games but yet continues pulling and pushing. loving you is a losing game. ❞ * … ( OOC : about blog. ) › ❝ doesn’t start with once upon a time. you know what she’ll introduce the LEGACY with? always and forever. ❞ * … ( OOC : plotting starter call. ) › ❝ handle it? are you kidding? she’s the master of SKILLFULLY planning the next tactical moves. ❞ * … ( OOC : statistics. ) › ❝ you and me got a whole lot of history. so does it ever drive you CRAZY just how fast the night changes? ❞ * … ( OOC : templates. ) › ❝ your lack of proper organisation causes her serious DISTRESS beyond what you could possibly fathom. ❞ * … ( OOC : credits. ) › ❝ the ABSOLUTE best lifesaving content creators. ❞ … ( OOC : all headcanons. ) › ❝ fact is deleted scenes should’ve made canon. would take over CONTROL of her original narrative. ❞ * … ( OOC : all replies. ) › ❝ written in these walls are the STORIES that I can’t explain. leave my heart open but it stays here empty. ❞ * … ( OOC : all answered. ) › ❝ watch out for a furious writer with a vocabulary of sharpened CONVICTION and quills in her arsenal. ❞ * … ( OOC : all edits. ) › ❝ nobody remembers the easy. they REMEMBER the blood, sweat and tears shed on the journey. ❞ * … ( OOC : reblogged. ) › ❝ don’t play the person. play to rig the game of the unfair system. and BREAK through the walls of it. ❞ * … ( OOC : reshared. ) › ❝ she’ll intend to keep these polaroids with her CAPTIONED signature to remember for when she’s grey. ❞ * … ( OOC : psa. ) › ❝ thank you next. in ADVANCE? you’re welcome. ❞ * … ( OOC : verses. ) › ❝ mayhaps in another world things would’ve been DIFFERENT. and I could’ve made you stay. ❞ * … ( OOC : verse drop. ) › ❝ she wants to be your midnights. are we out of the woods yet? tell me where do broken hearts go. ❞ * … ( OOC : queue. ) › ❝ just called to say this is the LAST you’ll be hearing from me. ‘cause now i’ve moved on. ❞
#tag drop#* … ( OOC : ramblings. )   ›   ❝ she has a mouth like unswept glass. it will CUT you when you least expect it. ❞#* … ( OOC : ooc answered. )   ›   ❝ you have the words to change a nation and yet? you’ve been BITING your tongue. ❞#* … ( OOC : about the mun. )   ›   ❝ she has kind of said too much. and you’ve said ENOUGH. promise that she is just another narcissist. ❞#* … ( OOC : original poetry. )   ›   ❝ prefers her work to be RECOGNISED rather than kept hidden away. either way? she wont go speechless. #* … ( OOC : self promo. )   ›   ❝ a little self-promo featured on the dash never really KILLED anyone. has it? ❞#* … ( OOC : promo. )   ›   ❝ the best people completely DESERVING of all of your love & attention on shining spotlights of their own. ❞#* … ( OOC : musings. )   ›   ❝ she is brave and STRONG and broken all at once. ❞#* … ( OOC : nsfw. )   ›   ❝ mascara runnin’ and lipstick smudged. wearing a red wine stained dress with a hint of the DEVIL in her eyes. ❞#* … ( OOC : desires. )   ›   ❝ took her hours just to do her makeup right. if you’re the reason it gets ruined she’ll be PISSED tonight. ❞#* … ( OOC : wanted plots. )   ›   ❝ wish I never hung up the phone like I did. WISH you knew that I’d never forget you as long as I live. ❞#* … ( OOC : wishlist. )   ›   ❝ let a shooting star run across a MIDNIGHT sky. throw a coin into a wishing well. make a wish now. ❞#* … ( OOC : ask meme. )   ›   ❝ she hates playing MIND games but continues pushing and pulling. loving you is a losing game. ❞#* … ( OOC : about blog. )   ›   ❝ doesn’t start with once upon a time. you know what she’ll introducd the LEGACY with? always and forever.#* … ( OOC : plotting starter call. )   ›   ❝ handle it? are you kidding? she’s the master of SKILLFULLY planning the next tactical moves. ❞#* … ( OOC : statistics. ) ⠀ › ⠀ ❝ you and me got a whole lot of history. so does it ever drive you CRAZY just how fast the night changes? ❞#* … ( OOC : templates. )   ›   ❝ your lack of proper organisation causes her serious DISTRESS beyond what you could possibly fathom. ❞#* … ( OOC : credits. )   ›   ❝ the ABSOLUTE best lifesaving content creators. ❞#* … ( OOC : all headcanons. )   ›   ❝ fact is deleted scenes should’ve made canon. would take over CONTROL of her original narrative. ❞#* … ( OOC : all replies. )   ›   ❝ written in these walls are STORIES I can’t explain. leave my heart open but it stays here empty. ❞#* … ( OOC : all answered. )   ›   ❝ watch out for a furious writer with a vocabulary of sharpened CONVICTION and quills in her arsenal. ❞#* … ( OOC : all edits. )   ›   ❝ nobody remembers the easy. they REMEMBER the blood sweat and tears shed on the journey. ❞#* … ( OOC : reblogged. )   ›   ❝ don’t play the person. play to rig the game of the unfair system. and BREAK through the walls of it. ❞#* … ( OOC : reshared. )   ›   ❝ she’ll intend to keep these polaroids with her CAPTIONED signature to remember for when she’s grey. ❞#* … ( OOC : psa. )   ›   ❝ thank you next. in ADVANCE? you’re welcome. ❞#* … ( OOC : verses. )   ›   ❝ mayhaps in another world things would’ve been DIFFERENT. and I could’ve made you stay. ❞#* … ( OOC : verse drop. )   ›   ❝ she wants to be your midnights. are we out of the woods yet? tell me where do broken hearts go. ❞#* … ( OOC : queue. )   ›   ❝ just called to say this is the LAST you’ll be hearing from me. ‘cause now i’ve moved on. ❞
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k9wa · 2 months
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𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.
⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.
⠀ OR
⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.
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⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k
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boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.
a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.
as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.
“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”
you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 
“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”
you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.
“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”
boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.
“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 
“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 
“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”
you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.
“how’d it happen?”
boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.
“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”
boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.
“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”
the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.
“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.
“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”
boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.
“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.
“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”
the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.
(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)
you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.
“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.
“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”
boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 
“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”
that censor really was gonna drive him insane.
“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”
it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.
“feel fine?”
boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.
“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 
boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 
“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”
you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 
boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.
the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.
“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”
you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.
“what are you talking about?” 
“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”
boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.
you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.
“make a fist,”
boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.
“open it,”
he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.
“hold up two fingers,”
boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.
“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”
boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.
“least one o’us can say it…” 
“do you want me to fix you or not?”
“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”
you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.
boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.
it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.
“something the matter?”
boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.
“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.
“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”
boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.
yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.
boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.
“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”
each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.
“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”
you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.
boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.
“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”
you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”
this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.
you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.
boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.
“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 
he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 
“just like watching you squirm.”
you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.
“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 
boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.
“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.
you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 
so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 
his own dream, now his downfall. 
boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!
“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”
he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 
as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.
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⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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daloy-politsey · 2 years
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“They’re trying to discharge her constructively. Do you know what Constructive Discharge means?” She asked.
As soon as I heard the term ‘Constructive Discharge,’ I knew I’d never seen it on a vocabulary quiz.
“No. What does it mean?” I asked.
She explained.
“Constructive discharge is a fancy way of saying “being forced out.” It’s not good. And if you’re not a lawyer or in human resources, you’ll probably learn what it means when it’s happening to you.”
“Oh my God. I’ve seen this my entire career and never knew it even had a name.” I thought.
You’ve seen constructive Discharge too. You may have experienced it. We’ve all made choices to avoid it.
Constructive discharge defined
“We can’t fire you, but we’ll make you so miserable you’ll quit, and then we won’t have to pay your unemployment.”
Then there’s the textbook definition:
“A constructive discharge occurs when your employer has made working conditions unbearable, forcing you to resign.”
Or as one person put it.
“I didn’t get handed a pink slip, but when you’re not wanted, people have a way of letting you know.”
HR isn’t always the secret police.
Employees aren’t always victims of evil-doers.
However, employers push employees out all the time to maintain and protect the, “We didn’t do anything wrong, YOU did,” power structure.
Constructive Discharge looks like this:
— Meeting invitations slow to a trickle, and you’re excluded from emails and generally looped out of what’s going on.
— People stop talking to you or stop talking when you walk in.
— Your emails don’t get answers, or they arrive too late to be of value.
— Suddenly, your work is not good enough, though nothing about your work has changed.
— Reviews, once good or even glowing, are now mediocre or bad.
— Instead of a bonus, you get a Performance Improvement Plan.
— Warnings and write-ups start so they can justify your eventual termination with documentation of your “poor performance”
— Your work, clients, assignments go away, or they overwhelm you with work.
— The words “Set up to fail” were practically invented to describe this scenario.
Constructive Discharge is illegal
It isn’t easy to prove you’re a target, and it’s even more challenging if you don’t even know constructive discharge is a real thing.
If you’ve ever experienced this and don’t fully understand what’s happening to you beyond knowing you’re in the process of being excommunicated, it can be hell. It’s not uncommon for the experience to leave long-lasting scars.
Talk to anyone who’s ever been through it. They’ll tell you.
Knowing constructive discharge exists and how it’s used gives you power to predict what’s coming and to protect yourself.
Seeing the endgame helps you in two ways.
You know what to expect. Having a sense of what’s coming next is enormously empowering. You can go on the offensive and protect yourself. Constructive discharge works to crush your ego, making you feel you did something wrong and deserve this treatment.
Without strategy, you end up being a miserable pawn in your employer’s endgame.
Remember, they’re almost certainly building a case to fire you in the event the hellscape they create for you doesn’t persuade you to quit.
If you’re getting pushed out, and you know what to look for you can prove constructive discharge and you can get unemployment benefits, be released from payback obligations on a signing bonus, and protect your mental health.
You’re not crazy, incompetent, or a failure. This is real and it’s carefully executed to leave you holding the bag and feeling like you did something wrong.
If they force you out, in addition to feeling horrible, you lose your paycheck, benefits health insurance, and possibly owe them money.
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loveinhawkins · 2 months
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”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.
The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—
Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.
He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.
But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.
I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.
Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.
“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”
“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.
If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.
Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?
“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”
Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.
Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.
“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”
Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.
He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.
“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.
The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”
His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.
I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…
Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.
“The shire, then,” Steve says.
Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”
“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”
And they do.
Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.
He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…
“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.
“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”
“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”
“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.
It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.
There’s no rush.
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starkwlkr · 4 days
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mum said no | lewis hamilton
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an: i love hot ones <3 that’s all
After canceling many times, Lewis finally made his appearance on Hot Ones with Sean Evans. He was a big fan of the show so he was happy to finally get to be a guest. Not only was he a big fan, but so was his eleven year old daughter, Maeve, so naturally she accompanied him to the set.
Maeve Hamilton watched as her dad ate spicy wings and answered questions. When talking about Roscoe, Maeve payed close attention. She loved talking about Roscoe so much.
On the monitor, a picture of Roscoe and Maeve appeared. Maeve was wearing a black Lewis shirt that her mum had bought from an Etsy store while Roscoe licked her face. It was the British Grand Prix and Maeve, along with her sisters, was beyond excited.
“Look, Mavy, that’s you and Roscoe!” Lewis pointed to the screen. “That was taken last year. Do you remember?” Lewis asked his daughter.
Maeve looked at the picture and nodded. “Angela took it!”
“Is your family always at the races?” Sean asked.
“Most of the time during the summer, yeah. It’s always a great time when they’re in the garage, but when it’s school time, they stay home with their mum.” Lewis explained. “They don’t like that at all. But I always tell them education comes first.”
“But I get lots of good grades.” Maeve cut in.
“What’s your favorite subject?” Sean asked the girl.
“I like science.” Replied Maeve.
As the show went on, Maeve was seated next to the camera crew, laughing at her father. He was now taking bigger bites.
“You can do it!” Maeve cheered on.
“Thank you, baby. Love you.” Lewis chuckled and blew a kiss to the girl. “I can always count on my girls to cheer me on.”
“On the topic of family, is it possible that Formula One could get another Hamilton on the track? Or do they want to go into other careers?” Sean asked.
“At one point, they did say they wanted to, but now they’re discovering more careers that they’re interested in. I will support them in whatever choice they make.”
You and Lewis both knew that your daughters would never be Formula one drivers. You both talked about how hard it would be on them. He saw how fans were tough on Mick. He didn’t want his girls to go through that.
The wings got spicier and all Maeve could do was laugh at the faces Lewis was making. He drank milk but that barely helped. Tears were starting to come out his eyes. Maeve noticed and quickly went to her father’s side and used a clean napkin to clean the tears since she didn’t want him using his own hands that were covered in sauce.
“Thank you, baby.” Lewis said as Maeve cleaned up the tears.
“What kind of reaction do you get when somone pulls up alongside of you and then sees that it’s, you know, Lewis Hamilton behind the wheel next to them?” Sean questioned.
“Most people are just like ‘Holy Shit!’ um. . .” Lewis chuckled.
“They’re not revving their engine at you or anything?”
“I’ve had people, yeah traffic light that wanna race yeah.” He nodded. “Definitely when I was young, I felt like yeah. . . smoke this fool.” He laughed.
“This man wanted to race you yesterday!” Maeve spoke up. “Mum said no.”
“I got kids now!” Lewis laughed once again. “I got precious cargo, I can’t be fooling around.”
“And mum said no.” Maeve whispered to him.
“Yup, and mum said no.”
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zchnlswrld · 2 months
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(46) ATEEZ FIC RECS
🍓 fluff | 🌀 angst | 💥 nsfw | 🎧 personal favourite
if any links don’t work or the wrong writers have been tagged please let me know!
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ATEEZ/MULTIPLE
Want You Back | @whimsicalwritingsandmore 🍓🌀
opposites attract w/ matz | @beenbaanbuun 🍓💥🎧
↳ are you ready to get so hooked on something you’ll read every story connected to it and simply sit there waiting for series updates?
Addams!ATEEZ | @fruithoughts 🍓💥
HONGJOONG
Less Than Three | @kbandtrash 🍓
Runaway | @lilacmingi 🍓🌀
To Make An Album | @bambikisss 🍓💥
Never Alone | @iwannasuckyourmonstercock 🌀
Hopefully | @idyllic-ghost 🍓
↳ my hongjoong roman empire and it’s just made up leave me alone
SEONGHWA
The Way to His Heart | @edenesth 🍓🌀🎧
↳ again not a series reader in the slightest but this one is so well done you never know what’s happening next and then you get grown through a loop in the best way possible
let’s not fall in love, again | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥🎧
↳ HOW THE AUTHOR CAME UP WITH THIS IS BEYOND ME BUT I REREAD THIS ALL THE TIME I LOVE IT I CANT DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I LOVE IT JUST PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT
no title | @mymoodwriting 🍓🌀💥
bodyguard | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥
↳ this became my personality for a solid month after its release
cat named mars | @hwaightme 🍓
checkmate | @atinystraynstay 🍓🌀
the lamb and the wolf | @seonghwaddict 🍓💥
YUNHO
Guerilla | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀💥
opposites attract | @tainsan 🍓🌀💥
↳ another one that became my personality for a solid month after release
what builds a home | @cosmicdumpling 🍓💥 (only a little!)
PILLAGED | @lilacmingi 🍓 (a little 🌀)
something to give each other | @sungbeam 🍓🎧
↳ read this at 5:34am and it changed my life i’m not kidding
Promise | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓💥 (only a little!)
↳ did my life just change? yes! this authors fics always change my life but this was something else!
entombed | @ghstzzn 💥 (and kinda 🍓) 🎧
YEOSANG
no title | @ateezmakemeweep 🍓🌀
RETURN TO ME | @thewonandonly 🌀💥🎧
↳ this is the the best yeosang fic on this app like i can’t explain any of it like this is one i strongly suggest you read (this is a threat, read the goddamn fic) and that fucking ending i’m literally i can’t it takes everything in me to not spoil it every time i recommend it but i’m telling you you have to read this you know that feeling you get when your heart wrenches and you physically feel it? you get that the whole time with this
for the hope of it all | @starrysvn 🌀🎧
↳ not gonna lie thought about killing myself after reading this 😭😭😭 /j
SAN
The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder | @ennysbookstore 🍓🌀💥🎧
↳ another one i can’t explain you have to read this for yourself because you think you know and then no you fucking don’t and then you get really mad and then really sad and then you’re like oh no and then y/n saves it and then san says stuff JUST READ IT
Ceilings [PART 2] | @yoongiseesawmp3 🍓🌀💥
↳ FINALLY THIS GODDAMN TROPE DONE RIGHT LIKE GAG EM THANK YOU GUYS THIS IS SUCH A GOOD READ AND IT DOESNT MOVE FAST LIKE THE OTHER FICS THAT DO THIS TROPE PLEASE
seasons out of time | @nonclassyparty 🍓🌀💥🎧🎧🎧
↳ this is the most soul crushing, heart wrenching, bone shattering piece of media you will ever read like i can’t genuinely put into words how much this fic means to me on like a level like i can’t even describe it help it is one of those fics thag you have to read for yourself and you’ll understand because just when your hopes are up theyre down when they’re down they’re up again in some strange way part two is in the works so i’m preparing for my heart to get stamped on by the author and part 1 is like for me genuinely the absolute best fics on this app so I can’t wait
Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | @hongjoongsart 🍓🌀
↳ you know when you like feel smth in your gut and you don’t know what, this is what this does to you I swear
a broken routine | @vampzity 🍓🍓🍓🍓🎧
MINGI
Goodbye Summer | @shocymer 🌀🌀🌀
↳ i did cry when i finished this
nightmare, daydream | @mingigoo 🍓💥
One New Message | @hwaightme 🌀
Home | @lovepookie 🍓🍓🍓
WOOYOUNG
Home for the Holidays | @highvern 🍓🌀💥
Say You Love Me Too | @crazyformfics 🍓
change of heart | @hotteoki 🍓
place in me | @starrysvn 🍓🌀🎧
↳ this is my wooyoung roman empire and it didn’t even happen irl
If Without You | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀
JONGHO
so lovely | @deathbyyeekies 🍓🍓🍓🍓 🎧🎧🎧
↳ i kid you not reading this changed my life like genuinely i’m a changed person now
killin me softly | @deathbyyeekies 🍓
glasses w/ jongho | @beenbaanbuun 🍓
zemblanity | @in-san-ity 🍓🌀💥🎧
↳ it’s so nice watching tropes finally being done right like you don’t even understand how badly i needed this
20:15pm | @xuchiya 🍓
the fear still lingers | @03jyh23 🌀🌀🌀🌀🎧🎧🎧
↳ TOOK EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO THROW MYSELF OFF A BRIDGE AFTER READING THIS IF YOU’RE WANTING FUCKING INCREDIBLE ANGST READ THIS SHIT AND YOU’LL PHYSICALLY FEEL YOUR HEARTBREAK LIKE MINE DID
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I am so so so so so TIRED to see people fatshaming two perfectly healthy girls because they have round faces. It’s disgusting.
The actresses of Mai and Azula are on point for their roles. Hell, if they were chosen there must be a reason, it’s not like there’s no Asian actresses out there they could choose from.
People can’t accept that Azula can have a characterization beyond “crazy and sadist sicko”. She’s a perfectionist. She’s an asset to her father. She’s jealous of Zuko’s birthright and of how it might take what she has away. Those are things that OG Azula too had. The only difference is that we actually see it in season one and have a background on her, rather than writing it in a rant. And what has been added only makes her a more complex character, given the change in the family dynamic as well.
And Mai? The actress is talented, she delivers a good Mai, and does justice to the character. She’s 17 and at the beginning of her career, of course it won’t be perfect. She gets to grow. Thing is, you guys won’t let her, because a square jaw scares you so flipping bad that you feel the need to shame her for it.
Everyone is a body positivity advocate until a girl with a rounder face shape is cast as a character in a live action you are NOT forced to watch? Seriously?
I’ve seen so many people on the internet calling them all sort of names, fatshaming them, insulting their work without even focusing on the acting. And I’m like, what’s to fatshame there? Let me tell you: nothing.
If I have to put it through your thick head like this, so be it. Even though I hate talking about and comparing bodies.
This below is a picture of Azula’s actress.
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She has the face card, she has the jawline, and she has a fit, enviable body. And you still have the audacity to “fat-shame” her?
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These two pictures are in costume. Again, face card and an enviable body. She even has the expression for Azula. You see a girl with a rounder shape of face and will automatically go “no she’s too cute to be Azula!!” Dude. No. When she will actually deliver as the crazy girl we know, she will devour. She will, and you all will switch back because that’s what you are, slimy switchers.
And now, onto Mai’s actress, a very beautiful girl with talent and looks. She is literally so pretty, and you dare hate on her? You dare shame her for how she looks? From what I’ve heard she’s a minor, too, so this makes you 100000% more slimy and undeserving of any sympathy in my book.
This is her, this is the girl.
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She’s literally so pretty. Maybe she hasn’t got the same facial structure of Mai, but she delivered all her lines she had in the little screen time and with the discutibile scenes she was given. She was good. But you see a square jaw, a rounder shape of face, and are immediately triggered.
And you can’t even use the stupid argument of “she’s fat”, because this is literally her.
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A very normal, very healthy young woman. Not as skinny as OG Mai? So what? She’s still a fricking thin girl. Nowhere as “fat” as you haters make her to be.
I shouldn’t have to explain common sense and basic decency to grown adults, and yet here we are.
This is honestly so frustrating. In the year of 2024 you can’t possibly justify insulting girls like this, with no shame. It’s absolutely idiotic and shows very a big lack of brain cells. I see you, haters, behind your device, with your insecurities and shame for yourself, laughing at two girls who made it farther than you ever will. You can critique the acting once you’ve seen it in full potential. Until then, shut your tramp up. This is very small dick energy of you.
I don’t see why I should treat you with kindness when you are so eager to make this kind of jokes about pretty and in shape girls you are very obviously jealous of. Go touch some grass, incels.
464 notes · View notes
jade-jini · 6 months
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omg thank youuuuu g!p loser reader x sana pls 🥺💕
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(Perfect moment to bring Sha-rich AHHH)
Daddy’s rich girl who “works” at the company as well with you. Unlike her, you worked your way up to an important position in the company. You invested time, worked and studied hard, and had a position almost as important as her. Almost. Of course nobody could ever have more power than the owner’s daughter, right?
However, the fact that you were able to have such position already spoke a lot about how smart you were. Not a lot of people, specially at such a young age, could get there. If they didn’t know who Sana was, they’d wonder how tf is she technically your superior. Specially when you’re the one who basically does all the work for her.
“Y/n-ssiii” she called in her respective animated tone. You were talking with some coworkers in their desks when you quickly looked at her and gave her all your attention, feeling already cheered up at the sound of her pretty voice.
“Yes, Ms. Minatozaki?” You answered sweetly with those heart eyes you could hardly hide from others, happy to see her already ‘cause you were wondering when was she gonna get to the office (lost puppy behavior-). You knew it was common for her to just show up at any time she wanted to.
“Father has assigned me some hard hard work.” She said with a pout as she showed you a folder. “and I need the help and guidance of the smartest person here, Aka you. No offense, ladies.” She said as she gifted a charismatic smile and wink to the young secretaries you were previously talking to.
Everybody knew that when Sana said “help her”, it meant that you were gonna do all the work for her.
You, of course, would have gladly accepted right away, but you were full of work too, and wanted to take things slow this week rather than having to focus on working hard on your and her work as well. Again.
“I’d love to, but I also have this project and I act-” you tried to explained but she stopped you, already feeling bored hearing the excuse.
“Ah! This is important, y/n. You wouldn’t want our ceo to be missing such an important part of his presentation for this week, presentation that I remind you, you’re part of, right? Or is it that you can’t handle being part of it? ‘Cause If you can’t I can find somebody else that-” now it was your turn to interrupt.
“No!” You quickly said grabbing the folder from her hands. For some reason the idea of somebody else spending time with Sana like that made you horribly jealous (territorial puppy?). It felt like it had more than one meaning. It was more than just somebody helping her with work. “I can do it, ma’am. I’ll have it ready as soon as possible.”
“Sounds great! See you soon in my office.” She said with a big smile as she softly touched your forearm before leaving. You simply sighed, wondering why was it so hard to resist her. You turned around once her silhouette disappeared, just to see your coworkers looking at you and shaking their heads. You shrugged, and excused yourself to your own office to start working.
Some people would think Sana is using you to look good in front of her daddy and his important partners. You had coworkers looking at you with sad eyes, feeling empathetic about “the poor sunbaenim who is too good to say no and has to work so daddy’s girl doesn’t show how unprepared she actually is for this business”. Most of the people in the company liked Sana though, she was charismatic and that’s something that can get you far in life as well. You appreciated her qualities, and saw beyond. But of course there were always those few employees…
“Y/n sunbaenim should be the one with her position”
“Seriously, she’s so qualified. How unfair” some coworkers would whisper. What they didn’t know is that Sana was compensating you and very well for your help with her job.
In her own particular way.
“y/n! Oh my god. y/n~.”
Sana’s moans were getting loud to the point you were starting to concern that some people might be able to hear you guys from outside her office. But being drunk in her taste, you couldn’t care less about that. And Sana didn’t care at all when she was feeling this good, at the end of the day she (her dad-) owned this place. Who was gonna fire her?
You were almost naked, your upper body exposed, your wrists tied behind the chair you were seated on. Your pants were still on though, and your boner was already hurting but you didn’t dare to complain, focus on the task given to you. Not any important report that she needed to have on her daddy’s desk by the end of the week, or any structure analysis of who gives a fuck. No. right now the only thing that mattered was Making Ms. Minatozaki come in your mouth.
But how did you even get here today? Let me explain, it’s easy.
“Ms. Minatozaki, I brought you the latest report as you asked, with updates about last week’s movements in the graphs that our investment teams have been working on.” You said as you entered the woman’s office, several papers in hand battling not to fall as you fixed your glasses how you could.
Right as you stepped a foot on her office, she closed the door with your back against it and locking it behind your back, making you drop your documents and gasp in surprise “w-what’s going on, Ms. Mi-” but you couldn’t finish your question, as she started kissing you like she hasn’t seen you in years. You were caught off guard, moaning in her mouth as you grabbed her forearms. You always loved when Sana kissed you, sometimes you just wished she’d warn you before doing it out of a sudden.
“Ma’am, please, w-wait” you asked, feeling her hand traveling down to palm your dick over your pants “oh god…not there please…”
“Why not? I’m sure it misses me.” The older woman teased with a smirk, trying her best not to laugh. She went to leave wet kisses on your neck, biting it and grabbing your cock more ‘till she was basically masturbating you over your pants.
“Ms, Wait- fuck~ wait! Sana, wait!” You moaned, feeling weak in her hands, containing yourself from simply surrender to her touch was such a hard task, and slowly your brain almost forgot why would you even try to do it anyways.
“You have no idea how much it turns me on when you call me Ms. Minatozaki.” She whispered next to your ear, to then let out a mischievous giggle. “Although my name sounds just as good when it comes from your pretty lips, baby~” Sana teased, and went back to your neck, undoing your tie and shirt. Your trembling hands slowly tried to go to her lower back, but she had other plans “Ah Ah! You’re not using those right now, come here puppy.” Sana guided you to a chair she had in her office, and softly pushed you until you were seated. As she straddled you and went back to kissing you deeply, you didn’t realize that she tied your hands behind your back with your own tie until she stepped up to get something from her drawer and you tried to move.
“Sana? What’s going on?” You asked as you tilted your head, confused but clearly excited, already feeling your member pulsating, needing attention and missing the pressure Sana was giving it when seated on your lap. She was right. Your whole body missed her. Even when you guys hooked up very often you always wanted more of her.
“Nothing we haven’t done before, pretty puppy” she said as she showed you the leash and collar she bought just for you, with a blindfold as well, biting her lip clearly as eager as you were to start.
Oh.
“You wanna do that here?!” You asked her, clearly surprised.
“What, are you gonna tell me you don’t want it?” She asked back giving you a “you know damn right” look. Sana knew, you could never tell her no.
“… no ma’am.”
And that’s how you ended in the position you were in.
“That’s it baby, keep going like that. I’m gonna come~” you heard the older woman say as you basically fucked her pussy with your tongue, and you wished you could see her facial expressions but again, you didn’t dare to complain, not wanting to be punished. Even though you couldn’t see her, all of your other senses were very awake. The taste of her pussy against your tongue, making you drool creating a mess on her cunt as you felt some of it on your chin. The sounds of her voice moaning your name, as praises also filled the air. The sensation of the leash being pulled, keeping you as close as possible to her. Everything was having you on edge. You felt you could almost come untouched just by pleasing this woman.
Just as she stated, Sana came in your mouth, holding the leash and your head in place as she grabbed your hair a little too hard, sending a little pain, but not too much that you were uncomfortable.
“Fuckk your mouth feels so fucking good…” she moaned as she moved your mouth all over her cunt, helping herself ride the last highs of her orgasm. “It’s time to help you now, isn’t it puppy?” She asked in a cute tone, teasing you over your pants with her bare foot. With how neglected your cock felt, your hips automatically moved towards her foot, desperate for friction. This made the older woman laugh, you were such a cute needy puppy for her. “aw don’t be weird, puppy. I’m not using my feet for that. Got something better for ya.”
And as the seconds feel like ages, with the uncertainty of the darkness, you felt her hands slightly moving your pants to let your member free, and you felt how it hardly slapped against your own stomach. The sensation of your own precum making you groan, but you didn’t find it bothersome actually. The fact that it was still coming even when Sana wasn’t stimulating you at all in any ways made her hungrier for you.
“Aww, poor you. That probably hurts, doesn’t it darling?” She cooed. You nodded, a pout decorating your lips as soft whimpers started to leave them. An almost too loud moan escaped you once she started to slowly jerk you off “Shhh it’s ok, I’ll take care of it.” She said as her palm was now all over your tip, playing with the precum. You thought she was gonna make you come like this, until you felt the overwhelming and warm sensation of her tight pussy. God it felt like heaven. With how sensitive you were, and the desperation of not being allowed to touch her with your own hands. You felt you could come in any second.
Sana started riding you at a steady pace, knowing you were close but also not wanting you to finish too soon. She was playing with the pace, torturing you and enjoying the sounds you’d make when she slowed down robbing you of your own orgasm. If only you could see that damn smile she had on her face. “Sana, please… stop playing with me.. I need to come, please.”
Ouh she loved the sound of that. How you desperately begged her, knowing she had full control over you in every aspect. She needed to hear it more. “Hmmm ask again baby. Ask again and I’ll think about it.”
“Please, please, I’m begging you ma’am, please..” you sobbed, needing your sweet release, unconsciously thrusting your hips up, fucking her as fast as she was fucking you.
“Fuck..! Just like that, baby. Keep fucking going like that. Fuck me good.” She moaned between teeth in your ear, feeling herself getting close to her second orgasm as well. As you came, the sensation of your seed inside her drove her crazy, jumping even faster on your cock making you sob and ask her to please slow down, feeling overstimulated. But of course Sana didn’t stop until she was making a mess on your cock, making you fill her up even more.
———————
For somebody with her own office, she surely enjoyed rather going to more dangerous and small corners of the building.
“Wait, they’re gonna hear us…” you whispered with the little reasoning that was left in your mind as she quickly unbuttoned your pants while you were against the door of a janitor’s closet.
“No, I don’t think they will.” She said as she took her panties off and made you take them into your mouth before getting on her knees.
“Sana, we have a lot of work to do, please.” You said, taking her small piece of clothing out of your mouth for a second.
“Then let’s make it quick, and put that back in your mouth, now.” She said and before you could argue, she started sucking on your tip, moaning at the taste. Your eyes almost went completely white, getting already watery ‘cause of how sensitive you felt and how good Sana’s mouth was. You couldn’t help but to thrust your hips a little, hoping she’d get more of you inside her warm mouth. “Hey what did I tell you, hm? If you wanna fuck my mouth, you ask for it.” She scolded, teasing part of your shaft with her teeth “Understood?”
“A-ah~ yes ma’am. Can I please fuck your mouth?” You almost begged her, your voice coming out muffled ‘cause of her panties and you clenched the edge of the table next to you to try and have some self control while you waited for her answer.
“That’s better, yes you can baby.” She answered as she put her tongue out, giving you more access to her mouth, eagerly waiting for you to use it as your own fuck toy. And of course you did, getting deep inside her throat creating such wet and impure noises that would make whoever walks outside that closet turn around and leave the whole floor. Sana took it out of her mouth as she tried to catch her breath, replacing it with her hand instead. However, you were quick to put it back in, grabbing her head firmly.
“Nu-uh, we can’t risk it falling on your clothes. We can’t go to our meeting all dirty. You’re gonna swallow it all, aren’t you, baby?” You told her looking straight into her eyes, and she nodded, knowing she had no other option. She looked so cute like that, giving you those puppy eyes. People thought nobody could have more power than the owner’s daughter. Yet here you had her, on her knees listening to your every word and letting you use her mouth. People could call you a pathetic loser if they wanted to. As long as you could enjoy Sana. Not so long after, you came in her mouth almost making her choke. Still, she made sure to take everything you gave her, licking your dick clean, and getting a little too excited that you almost were starting to get hard again. However, you grabbed her arms and pulled her back on her feet, you guys had an important meeting and you were almost already late. She groaned, complaining and clearly wanting more “I promise after this meeting we can go wherever you want and do whatever you say, but please let’s go. We worked hard on these papers, remember?” You told her with a pout, a surprising switch on you that Sana was still trying to get used to.
“Ugh, fine..” she sighed as she rolled her eyes, and you both carefully got out of the closet (be who you areeee) after making sure you were presentable.
Getting to your meeting like nothing happened, clearly in a better mood than earlier that day, your cheeks red and sometimes stuttering as Sana continued eye-fucking you, fantasizing about what you promised earlier and impatient for the day to end to take you home,but she had the biggest smile planted on her face ‘cause there’s nothing she loves more than playing with you and having you around her finger during office hours.
A lot of people thought she was just flirting and playing with you, making you nervous or dreaming about a chance with her just so you would do whatever she wanted, but never actually batting an eye your way. The way Sana thanks you for your help (which she very much enjoyed as well, so it was a win-win for her every time), you could honestly say it was very fair tho.
Now, Sana was no idiot. She knew damn right what it was told about her and the way she treated you. She knew some people thought she was taking advantage of you and manipulating you ‘cause you were too good and innocent. You looked so shy and well behaved. “If only they knew” she thought. Yes, you were sweet, but innocent? Impossible, and if you ever were then she was sure she already broke you ‘cause with how easy she made you hard, and with how hard you pound on her, it was impossible to consider you innocent. Well behaved? Of course tho, you were so obedient for her. Just for her<3.
Continuation here <3
814 notes · View notes
christinesficrecs · 6 months
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Happy Saturday! Enjoy these brilliant fics. 🩷
I don’t know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 17.8K
“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”
He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.
His Only Defense by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 78.7K
Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha.
Oh God, and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except, oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.
Laying Groundwork by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K
The one where Scott and Stiles go clubbing and there’s this broody Bouncer out to get Stiles-
Or get into his pants. Thank God it’s the latter.
Give you that thing you can’t even imagine by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K
The one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he’s about to find out he’s very, very wrong.
Shot Through The Heart by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 64.8K
The one when Stiles and Derek work for rival assassin companies and are sent to kill each other. It definitely doesn’t go as planned.
Foolish devouring things, build your castle in me by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 23.1K
“I will marry you,” he declares. “But should any more harm come to my father or my people, I will raze the earth itself until I feel the lifeblood drain from your corpse and paint my skin with it.”
It is not an idle warning, but from the princeling it has none of the desired effect. Derek feels no fear, but in this instance at least diplomacy triumphed over the spilling of more blood. It is all the same to him anyway. But Regent Peter was most insistent they avoid a drawn-out, gruelling war.
“Then we have reached an accord.”
Oh baby give me one more chance (to show you that I love you) by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 54.7K
“You like Derek,” he says slowly. “Derek Hale.”
His father grimaces at the accusation there. “Look, Stiles it’s complicated-“
“So when I was married to him,” he continues, voice rising. “He wasn’t good enough. He was taking advantage of me. ‘He’ll never be able to love you like you want, Stiles’. That’s what you said-“
Or the Sweet Home Alabama AU that nobody asked for.
I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 11.4K
“All in favour of Derek not dating for a full year so he can get his shit together and stop romancing people who want to kill us?”
Everyone raises their hands. Every single pack member.
Or the one where the pack insists Derek can't date anybody for a year but he ends up finding romance much closer to home anyway.
I know that you love me, even when I lose my head by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 135.5K
“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“
“Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.
“He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.
When sparks fly by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 87.5K | Abandoned
“Derek,” Stiles thunders. “Were you ever going to tell me your house is trying to hook us up?”
Derek’s head snaps up, eyes wide and scenting the evident crackle of magic in the air.
I'll wrap up my bones, And leave them by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 65.1K
The sign on the cage actually reads Beware: The Beast! in that crappy horror movie red paint that trickles down the paper in a failed attempt to appear like dripping blood.
And it would seem stupid if not for the living supernatural creature currently trapped behind its bars. Little hard to dismiss the big, hulking werewolf as a poorly constructed horror movie prop.
Oh how the mighty have fallen. Dude, cannot catch a break.
How long have I been on the hunt for you? by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 20.3K
“Well I guess accidental kidnapping is not so bad then,” Scott decided brightly after the others had finished describing their ordeals. “All’s well that ends well, right?”
“HAHA,” Stiles practically shouted, loud and unsettling enough that everyone turned to look at him. “I mean, yep. For. Sure.”
376 notes · View notes
yoonivy · 20 days
Text
gold rush; part 5.
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modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)
In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?
warnings. ramsay, aegon, and their friends. deepthroating.
01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07
---
One night turns it into two and then three… and before Aemond knows it, three weeks have gone by and he still hasn’t told you what he should have told you weeks ago. 
(Or the thing that shouldn’t have even been a plan in the first place.)
It’s part selfishness of not wanting to lose you, and cowardice — also for not wanting to lose you. 
In his mind, the plan is already called off. If people get pissed off at him then that’s fine. All he knows is he is not going to do that to you. Not anymore. 
Besides, the plan was idiotic anyway. Aegon came up with it, so that tells you everything you need to know. The only reason Aemond got roped into it was because nobody thought Aegon could successfully court you to get even a single date. 
Now Aemond is glad he got convinced to carry out the plan instead because the thought of you with his older brother now makes him sick. Especially when he thinks about the text his brother had wrote in the family group chat last night that he had ignored but can’t get out of his head:
Aegon
— aemond is taking too long with the plan 😫
— maybe I should take over
— didn’t ____ have a crush on me before?
Daeron 
— IJBOOOOOOOOL 😶🌫️
He ignored the messages, not bothering to reply, but that doesn’t mean that what Aegon had said hasn’t been running around his head all night long. 
You used to have a crush on Aegon?! When was that?!
It’s impossible, a total fabrication and defamation of your character!
But still… it could be possible. 
Aemond is not completely blind to see that his older brother is pretty popular with women (especially those who don’t know him beyond his looks) , and growing up, he has had many classmates who had feelings for his brother (some even shameless enough to ask him if his brother was seeing anyone) — but to think that you would have fallen for his brother’s trickery and deceit even if it was just a stupid teenage crush?
It makes Aemond want to empty out the content of his stomach. 
Which is not much. Just coffee, black. Forgoing breakfast as he is currently waiting for you outside your apartment building to get brunch together. 
As he waits, he ruminates, trying to recall any indication of his brother’s statement as true. The more he combs through his memories, the more bothered he gets because can’t recall any. And not because there isn’t a moment that it might be possible (as much as he hopelessly wishes this was the case) but it’s because he never bothered to care or observe anything you did in the past so his memory is coming up empty. 
So what if you did used to harbor a crush on Aegon?
The thought makes Aemond ill. 
“Morning sunshine—-!” Your cheerful exclamation is immediately halted by the look of your boyfriend’s face when you get a good look at him. Still handsome like always but he seems to be unhappy. And rest assured, you can now tell the difference between his resting bitch face or if he is actually in a foul mood by now. 
You place a delicate hand on his upper arm, expression full of concern. “Hey, you okay?”
Aemond focuses in on you — on your pretty face that he has grown so truly fond of. The one face that he wants to see everyday and if he doesn’t, it would just automatically be a mundane or terrible day. The sight of you leaves him breathless, he nods slow, distracted. 
Then he bends to ravish your mouth. Needy. His fingers digging into your hips to pull you closer. Possessive. 
It’s a lot for eleven in the morning — not that you’re complaining!
“Wow… good morning to me,”  you say with a cheeky smirk when you pull away. Aemond seems brighter too, smiling softly as he looks down at you. 
It seems that whatever he was thinking about before you came is completely forgotten now. 
“So, where are we going?” You ask once in his car, pulling on the passenger seatbelt. 
“It’s this place that just opened,” he tells you, his eye on the road. “Helaena recommends it; their only other location is in King’s Landing and she goes nearly every week.”
“Oooh!” You perk up in your seat. “I trust Helaena’s taste so I’m excited!”
Aemond grins, then hears the telltale sound coming from his speaker that lets him know that someone connected to it via Bluetooth. 
“Also, I heard this song last night and thought of you,” you say just as a sweet melody starts to play. 
I’ve never known someone like you,
Tangled and lovestuck by you
From the glue
Aemond tries to bite down his growing smile as he takes in the lyrics. But when you flash your pretty smile his way, he cannot help but return it. 
Because it’s you. 
And that’s just how he is now. 
Crazy about you. 
Guess I’m stuck forever on the glue 
—- oh, and you… 
---
By the time you arrive at your destination, there is already a long line wrapping around the corner of the street to get into the new brunch place. 
You shoot a worried look towards Aemond — both brows rising as your eyes comically widen — but all Aemond does in response is smirk, cool and collected. 
He meets you at your side of the car, opens the door like a gentleman and offers out his hand for you to hold. You take it as you step out, and you walk hand in hand with Aemond leading you past the long line of people and all the way to the entrance.
You are a bit confused, seeing as how while you were looking at the menu on your phone during the drive, it said that there are no reservations and it’s first come, first serve. 
Before you can question it, he tells the hostess by the door his name and she greets the two of you with a warm smile and then calls someone from inside to show you to your seat. 
Guess this is one of the perks of being wealthy or having a recognizable name. 
“Helaena is friends with the chef so she got us a table,” Aemond explains when he notices your curious expression on him. 
Ah… makes sense. 
You hear disgruntled murmurings behind you while you walk in with your boyfriend. 
You recall times that you were in their shoes — watching glitzy and clearly very wealthy stride in places with or even without reservations while you were waiting for hours . But now that you’re with Aemond… your back straightens, holding your head high as you try not to feel like an imposter in your $14.99 thrifted dress. 
Then — as if feeling your slightly anxious energy — Aemond squeezes your hand and looks back with a sweet smile, leaning into your ear and murmurs you’re gorgeous. 
Your knees almost buckle, feeling like you’re both melting on the spot and drifting up to the heavens.
With your free hand, you grab onto his arm, the same one holding your hand, and nuzzle up closely to him with a gleeful grin rounding your cheeks. 
“We have two tables for you to choose from, Sir,” the host says, leading you and Aemond through the fully occupied restaurant. “There’s one at our outdoor patio on the roof, or—“
“Oh, Mondy~!”
Aemond stiffens at the sound of the voice, his hand clutching yours tighter. Still, he doesn’t dare look, and even somewhat turns away to seemingly block out and pretend he had not heard what he surely had heard and keeps walking. But you, on the other hand, slow your steps to peer around him curiously. 
What you see is his older brother, Aegon, sitting at a table, twiddling his fingers at the two of you with a strange and sickeningly sweet grin on his face. You stop — causing Aemond to do so as well, but not without the most frustrated and heaviest sigh — and you wave back slowly. 
“What a coinkydink!” Aegon exclaims, hands clapping together as he stands up and makes his way over. “Such a wonderful surprise!”
Aemond grimaces, knowing it was anything but. Helaena had accidentally messaged the groupchat with his siblings to ask about the time when he wanted to arrive at the restaurant, so he is pretty sure Aegon just bothered her to put his name on the list as well. 
“And ____, you are looking absolutely gorgeous — as always.”
Aemond’s grimace twists into a furious deep seated scowl when Aegon steps up and throws his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder, yanking you towards him that you essentially had to drop Aemond’s hand from the shock of it with a soft oh falling from your lips. 
“C’mon! Join us!” Aegon exclaims, gesturing towards his table where their cousin, Vis, and the Cargyll twins were sitting. He snaps his fingers towards the host, an order to grab another chair for the table. 
Without allowing either you or Aemond to accept or decline on the idea, Aegon sits you down on the chair beside his. When Aemond tries to sit down on the empty seat right across from yours, Aegon shakes his head and points to the new seat at the head of the table — the one furthest away from you. 
Aemond opens his mouth to question and protest, but Aegon beats him to it, “that seat’s taken.”
Eyeing the leather bomber jacket thrown haphazardly on the seat, Aemond sighs in defeat and begrudgingly drops down on the one forcefully assigned to him.  
You make eye contact with your boyfriend, offering a tight smile as you notice his completely neutral expression before taking a hold of the menu to glance through, hiding the way you bite down your disappointment. You guess he is fine with this. So even though you had been anticipating this date with Aemond, to spend some quality time with just him, this is the least you could do for him. Aemond has been integrated into your friend group, it’s only fair for you to get to know his. 
Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend’s carefully calm expression is just his way of staying calm. Really, he desperately wants to throttle his older brother. This is the last thing he wanted. 
The cherry that tops the shit cake arrives when the person who had reserved the seat across from you finally comes back from wherever he had been hiding. From one of the layers of Hell, probably. 
“This beautiful day just keeps getting better and better!” Ramsay exclaims by way of announcing himself when he gets to the table. 
You are visibly disgusted when he crowds your space to hug you, smelling strongly of cigarette smoke. You push him away when he doesn’t let go of you quick enough. All the bastard does is chuckle, like it’s so amusing how put off you are of him. 
Straightening up, Ramsay offers Aemond a shit-eating grin and a nod. “How’re you doing there, bloke?”
Aemond couldn’t hide his feelings anymore — especially after witnessing Ramsay’s dirty hands on you, even if it just barely grazed your back — now openly seething, his nostrils flared. 
“Great,” Aemond fumes, tone flat and discontent. “Just wonderful .”
There’s an infuriating comment at the tip of Ramsay’s mouth, but thankfully, the waiter arrives to pour you and Aemond water and to take orders. 
The guys barely looked at the menu, ordering whatever they fancy. (“Mimosa,” Vis tuts, without even acknowledging the waiter. “And hold the orange juice.”) Meanwhile, you calculate in your head the total of your order before politely asking the waiter for a stack of buttermilk pancakes ($23, the cheapest on the menu) with strawberry compote (an extra $5) and a glass of mimosa ($17) as well — to treat yourself, and because you know you’ll probably need it to make it through this brunch with Ramsay. This means you probably have to scavenge through your fridge for leftovers for the next few days until you get paid but it’s fine. 
After the twins introduce themselves to you, Vis directs the conversation to something that you guess they had been discussing before you and Aemond had arrived, seeing it sounded like his point was a continuation of a previous thought. Although listening intently, you don’t contribute to the conversation, only half understanding what was being said. Aemond, on the other hand, easily comprehends the subject of discussion and adds in his opinion. 
Leaning towards him as you tuck your hand under your chin, you hang onto every word that comes out of Aemond’s mouth. You can admit, Aemond can be a little pretentious at times (okay, perhaps more than sometimes), but maybe it’s because you adore him that he sounds highly intelligent and, let’s be real, fucking hot.
But what Aemond said clearly pissed Vis off, opposing his opinion. The latter scoffs, face going sour.
While the food starts to be brought to the table, Vis turns towards you. “What do you think about it?”
You don’t even realize he was speaking to you until he calls your name. You shake away your dreamy gaze of your boyfriend to glance questioningly at his cousin. He repeats himself with a vapid curl of his lips.
After quickly acknowledging the staff who places your plate in front of you with a sweet smile and soft thank you, you think about how to reply. You like to think you are well read and also quite politically inclined (with Robb, Margaery and Meera as your best friends, it’s hard not to be), but you are not someone who spouts off things without being educated about it. And this — a certain trade route closing and the economic impact because of it — you are definitely not educated about. You do know about the conflict in the southern countries of Essos and economic crises there because of said conflict – but you hadn’t realized it affected Westeros as well. But perhaps you should have, knowing that some Westeros countries and politicians are the reason for the further destabilization in many Essos countries. 
Choosing your words carefully, you tell them exactly just that. You think your response was sound and good, sitting up straighter as you notice the glint in your boyfriend’s eye.
That is until Vis chuckles meanly and snarks, “You shouldn’t have said anything at all if it was going to end with no substance.”
Your stomach drops as you meet Vis’ challenging stare. 
“I’m sorry,” you murmur meekly. “I guess you’re right…”
“I think what you said was perfectly fine,” Aemond tries to defend you, frustration dripping in his words.
“ Awww… don’t be so harsh on her, Vis,” Ramsay coos with an exaggerated pout. “She’s a Creative Writing major.”
The whole table laughs at that, save for you and Aemond.
“Genuinely curious, what are you going to do with a degree like that?” One of the twins speaks up. Erryk, you think, the one with the longer hair. 
You try to force a smile as you try to disregard the judgment in his question, your spirit lifting up slightly as you talk about something you are passionate about. “I would like to get my words out there. Publish a few books. Do some live performances…”
“What do you write?” Arryk asks.
“Oh, um, poetry!”
That earns a couple snorts and snickers. Inhaling deeply, your smile wavers, but you manage to keep it on.
“And if that doesn’t work out?” Arryk continues his line of questioning. “What are you going to do then…? Teach english? ”
He says it like it’s an unworthy cause, but you think of Professor Seaworth and how much you admire him. “I mean, I wouldn’t oppose it.”
“I’m sure it will work out. She’s wonderful at what she does and has such a beautiful way with words,” Aemond adds, and your heart swells, smiling gratefully at him. “She even has a few of her pieces published already.”
“Where?” Vis asks, skeptical. 
Aemond proudly names all the publications that featured your work. You're surprised he knows them off by heart.
“No one reads any of that,” Vis says with a roll of his eyes and Aemond’s hand tightens into a white knuckled fist. Your own sets down the fork you were just about to bring up to your mouth, your bleary eyes stay trained on your plate. You are not feeling very hungry anymore.
Meanwhile, Aegon is already on his phone and pulling up one of your work.
Without any prompting, Aegon begins to dramatically read one of your poems out loud, and the guys laugh after every line. You confess, it’s not your best work out there, but — did they really have to do this and laugh in your face? 
“I don’t know why you’re all laughing — it’s better than anything you tossers have said in your entire life,” Aemond says.
Vis puffs out a breath. “Oh, please… it’s juvenile.”
At this point, you feel like you are closing off, hardly really hearing anything anymore. It’s as if your mind is trying to save you from the humiliation. You don’t understand why they are targeting you so cruelly. Did you say something that made them dislike you so much?
It’s so baffling that you couldn’t even stand up for yourself when you usually would. You just sit there, mute. 
“It’s on par with his ex-girlfriend’s lyrics about him,” Ramsay comments gleefully. The others laugh and exclaim in agreement.
“No offense,” Arryk begins, glancing towards you as he says your name. “You seem like a lovely girl and all, but I’m surprised Aemond’s dating you—”
“What the fuck are you saying?” Aemond snarls.
“I’m just saying …!” Arryk throws his palms up defensively, shrugging his shoulders. “The last girl you dated was Myrcella Baratheon —”
… As in Luvie? The popstar?!
You throw a questioning look at Aemond but his glare is set on Arryk, looking like he is about to pounce.
“I think what my brother is trying to say is that it’s quite a — I don’t want to say it but… a downgrade , you know?” Erryk slides in. Then to you, he quickly adds, “Not to say that you’re a downgrade, but just — you know Aemond. He’s very arrogant and particular—”
“Stop talking,” Aemond demands. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“See, sweetheart,” Ramsay smirks at you, playfully nudging your foot under the table. “This is why I never introduced you to any of them when we were dating. They’re assholes . Your sweet, little heart doesn’t deserve this.”
Aegon throws his arm around your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t be offended, babe. It’s not that serious. This is just how we are! If anything, all this jest shows how much we like you! You’re practically part of the family now!”
You could not even bother to shrug Aegon off you. You just smile tightly at him, wondering if he is right. Your friends do joke around like this — but never to this hurtful extent. Are you just too soft for all of this?
Suddenly a loud screech resounds in the room of metal against the flooring, causing the whole group (and some of the other surrounding patrons) to shut up and turn to witness Aemond standing up in a breakneck speed, both his palms pressed on the table. Your mouth parts in a silent gasp when you notice how tight his body seems to be with tension, his whole demeanor dour and rigid.
Aemond flashes his vicious gaze at his older brother, flicking between Aegon’s widened eyes and where his hand is touching your shoulder. 
“Get. Your. Hand. Off. Her.” Aemond coldly instructs. 
Aegon laughs, albeit nervously. “Calm down, Mondy,” 
Still, he follows his younger brother’s order and hastily slips his arm away from you. “We’re just joking around! The twins share a single brain cell between them. Vis has a flair for dramatics and is a debate pervert. And Ramsay is, well… Ramsay!” He takes a quick glance at the man he just spoke about. “No offense, mate.”
Ramsay’s blue eyes roll while he mutters a whatever. 
But their exchange is lost on you, your attention is solely captured by Aemond, holding himself in such a tall and regal manner, still standing there as if waiting for a more opportune moment to speak up. 
The time comes when the guys realize he hasn’t sat back down, and they all gaze up to where he stands at the end of the table. Aemond visibly unnerves them by how deathly silent he is and by the way his lips start to curl into a disconcerting smirk — the boys exchanging looks of concern amongst themselves. Then, even more so, when they notice his violet eye stare straight ahead as he begins to speak, “It seems that for once in your life, Aegon, you’re right.”
Aemond’s tone is a little too calm, but in a way that you know it is taking everything in him to level his voice that evenly. 
“ ____ and I are unfortunate enough to find ourselves amongst clowns on what should have been a beautiful morning.”
The boys throw in their objects and varied choices of what the fuck? but Aemond ignores them, continuing in slow drawl,  “I mean, take Vis for example. The only reason you care to learn about the state of the economy and the trading route is so you can have something to blame for your own failing businesses. Oh, excuse me, let me correct myself — failed businesses. How many of them have you had to file for bankruptcy again?”
Vis doesn’t answer, his expression just twists in contempt. So Aemond answers his own question, “It was all five, wasn’t it?”
Unable to help himself, Aegon chokes on a cough to cover up a laugh that just bursts out.
“Now, Arryk—” Aemond sharply glances sideways to the shorter-haired twin, then snaps to the other, “Erryk—” then back straight ahead, “Neither of you should be so comfortable about asking someone whether they are taking the right path to a successful future. Because if you ask me , what the two of you have dedicated your whole life for does not look to be working out. Not when you two are on the starting line-up of the university’s hockey team that has been on a three season losing streak, and will most likely stay that way as long as the two of you are on the team.” 
The twins have never looked so identical until this very moment. Their tense jaws roll while they both scoff at the same time.
Knowing that he is probably next on the chopping block, Ramsay sits back coolly as he folds his arms across his chest, chewing obnoxiously on a piece of steak with a smirk. “Do your worst, mate. I’ve already heard it all from my father.” 
Aemond lets out a humourless chuckle, head dipping in a nod to agree with him. “You’re probably right. But your father doesn’t even know the worst of it, does he? That you spend his hard earned money to buy yourself a recording contract, radioplay, and bots to boost your band’s social media engagement, and still your band has nothing to show for it. The only song people like of yours is the one with my girlfriend’s lyrics, and yet you were laughing at her poem earlier?”
You blink blankly at what Aemond just said. “What do you mean my lyrics ?”
You’ve never, ever written anything for Ramsay. 
Aemond tilts his head at you with adorable confusion, his expressive brows drawing together. 
“Your poem ‘bad astrology’ is also the lyrics for his song…”
Then it dawns on him the same time it does to you —
“You stole my work?!”
“You didn’t get her permission?!”
Ramsay’s eye twitches as his mouth flops open and close like a fish out of water. But he recovers quickly, his mouth stretching into its usual smarmy smirk. “Come on, babe, don’t be like that! You don’t remember letting me use your poem?”
This is what he is going with? Gaslighting? 
You let out a brief laugh of disbelief, a glare that could kill aimed right at Ramsay.
“First of all, don’t call me babe, or sweetheart, or anything like that ever again, you — you disgusting worm! And second — are you stupid ? I would never let you use my words for your shitty ass band! Why would I ever want to be associated with that ?”
Angered now, Ramsay spits out, “I seem to recall that you loved being associated with my bed, sl—“
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Aemond sneers, slamming his hand on the table. “You—”
Aemond stops himself when he sees the look on your face. 
The ire. The frustration. The mortification.
It’s not worth it, he thinks. As much as he wants to humiliate Ramsay further, Aemond needs to get you out of the situation — now. 
You are his priority. 
Aemond grabs his wallet out of his pocket and throws a couple hundred bills on the table, addressing the table, “You’re all a bunch of right sodding pricks.”
Then he rounds the table where you are and offers his hand out for you. 
You take it quickly with a tight squeeze and a watery smile up at your boyfriend, and then the two of you are off.
Although the mood is beyond ruined, Aegon grins at his newly humbled friends, leaning across the table to snatch the money Aemond had graciously gave. 
“Well, that was fun!”
---
As soon as the two of you step out onto the sidewalk, Aemond has you wrapped around his arms.
“I’m so sorry,” he says to you softly. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”
“‘S not your fault,” your voice is muffled, face buried into his chest. You’re not crying, at least not yet. You don’t want to either, none of them are worth your tears.
You pull away slightly, your fingers still gripping on the lapels of Aemond’s coat as you glance up at him. “Thank you for standing up for me.”
“Don’t thank me,” Aemond’s voice breaks a little, his heart breaking from the tears rimming around your sad eyes. “I should have—” He sucks in a breath, shaking his head, disappointed in himself. “I should have done more.”
Then his gaze is on you again, remorse heavy in that violet eye. “If I had known that Ramsay had stolen your poetry, I would have told you. You know that, right?”
“I know, don’t worry,” you frown, still grasping with the fact that one of your favorite piece of writing is somewhere out there, in some shitty acid metal rock song. “At least I know now…”
Aemond glances back at the restaurant, his hand closing into a fist. He wants to go back in there and wipe that infuriating smirk off of Ramsay’s face forever. 
“Hey, look at me,” with your hand on his face, you bring his attention back on you. “I want to forget about everything that just happened, okay? I don’t care about any of them in there, I just care about you. I don’t want them to ruin this beautiful day that I was supposed to spend with you, Aemond.”
Because of the softness of you and your words, the tension that had overtaken Aemond finally dissipates. Relaxing from your touch. 
“The day isn’t over yet,” he reminds you, allowing a small smile to spread on his lips. 
You shake your head, returning his smile with a tiny one of your own. His head turns slightly to kiss your inner wrist. So comforting and sweet. “It’s not.”
Letting your hand fall from his face, you intertwine it with his hand instead. 
“I’m pretty sure there’s some sort of promotion at Hot Pies this weekend,” you let him know about the diner close by campus that you and your friends (and now Aemond as well) are regulars at. “Bottomless hot chocolate.”
“Bottomless… hot chocolate ?”
You nod eagerly, an excited grin lighting up your face, making Aemond laugh fondly. 
“Well, we can’t miss that.”
“Nope! No, we can’t!”
His smiling lips pressed onto yours before he turns to go. But just when he pulls your hand to lead back to his car, you pull back, causing him to pause to glance back at you, puzzled.
You are not looking at him — not into his eye, anyway. Your gaze is downcast, on where your hand is intertwined with his. 
“Did you mean it…” you begin softly, uncharacteristically bashful. “... that you like my stuff?”
This time, it is Aemond’s turn to ease your mind.
Without a word, he shows you his phone screen. A habit he learned from you and your friends. Whether it’s to let him see a stupid TikTok, a funny text, or funny meme; you and your friends are notorious for sharing your screen. Aemond has a feeling that you all know each other’s lock screen passcode.
Brows drawing together in confusion, you blink prettily between him and his phone. Aemond grins, urging you to look with a nod of his head.
Your gaze narrows at him, confused and suspicious yet piqued, and so you take the phone from his hand.
On the screen, he has his phone gallery pulled up, in a folder titled: ___’s poems.
And that’s exactly what it was, a folder full of your poetry, screenshots from the different websites, social medias, and publications you had posted them on. You press on the latest one, and it’s dated back to two weeks ago. You scroll through and notice that each one had been favorited, indicated by the tiny white heart on the corner. The oldest picture was saved on the day you competed in the slam poetry contest.
“Aemond… what is this?” You ask, sniffing from the cold and perhaps something else.
Pulling his favorite scarf off his neck, your boyfriend takes a step closer towards you with the prettiest smile that makes your heart feel all warm.
“After watching you perform your poetry at the competition, I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you on that stage,” You listen to his soft voice while you watch with him with watery eyes as he gingerly and tenderly starts to wrap the soft cashmere around you. “Your way with words is so captivating. They made me think, they made me feel, they made me see the world in a different lens. A better lens — one that is beautiful yet sometimes melancholic, but always so heartfelt and true. it’s just so…” Now that you are warmly bundled up by his doing, Aemond cradles your face in his hands and murmurs through his breathtaking smile, “ You .”
And then he is pressing a kiss on your lips that has you feeling faint, swooning like a lead actress in an old time movie. 
You part away from each other, but you lay your hand over his on your cheek to keep it there. Keep him close. After what happened and what he just told you, you feel so safe with him. 
“I…” he trails off as soon as he started, bashful all of the sudden. 
“What?” You question teasingly, a grin spreading on your lips as you notice the blush spreading on his cheeks. Knees bending and head tilting at an uncomfortable angle, you try to annoy him further, “Aemond, tell me . Tell me!”
He presses his lips together, as if regretting even opening his mouth in the first place. But then you look up at him with those eyes of yours and he can’t deny you.
“I reread your poems whenever I’m missing you.”
“…oh,” you say, straightening up slowly, face not betraying anything. Completely cool and perfectly chill. 
But your heart? 
Oh, it’s down bad . Downright horrendous. Absolutely helpless at this point. 
“I—“ you stop yourself, giggling nervously. Oh Gods, you almost said it. 
You feel it. You know you do. It’s undeniable at this point. 
But you want the first time you say it to be perfect. 
So instead you lean up to kiss his cheek, murmuring in his ear, “Thank you.”
Aemond turns his face, quickly capturing your lips before you could pull away. It catches you completely by surprise, but it was a nice one, judging by the way you hum happily as you nuzzle deeper into the kiss, your dainty fingers grasping onto his biceps. Hands on your waist, Aemond pulls you closer, but when he does, he feels your stomach rumbling — even through your peacoat.
“Let’s get you something to eat, pretty girl,” Aemond says, laughing when you peck his lips two, three — or five — more times when he tries to pull away. He returns your sweet kisses one last time with a cheeky smile and then he takes your hand.
Aemond tries to lead you to his car. But again, you stay rooted in your spot, tugging him back to you. Concerned, Aemond searches the way you are looking at him, eyes clear and curious, playful almost – unlike how it was watery and sad like it was before. Relief floods through him, and so he waits for you to speak.
“ So , um…” You play with his hand, just beating around the bush. He tilts his head in confusion, so you just come out with it, “You dated… Luvie ?”
Glancing away from you, Aemond squints at the sky, clearing his throat gracelessly. “Well… yes . Sort of, kind of… It was barely anything, actually.” 
“What?! Are you serious?! You have to tell me everything !” You exclaim in awe. How could your boyfriend keep this from you?! “How’d you two meet? Who asked who out first? What ... actually, don’t tell me everything . I don’t, you know, want all the gory details of you two… doing things…”
While you rambled, your boyfriend successfully got you into his car.
“We didn’t!”
“Uh-huh, okay. You dated Pop Base’s Hottest Woman of the Year and you didn’t do anything, mhm … So start talking, Aemond Targaryen.”
“Can we at least wait until we get to the diner? I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“Fine… You better — but wait… does this mean you know Jacob Elordi? They’re best friends, you know! You should introduce me to him if you do…”
“Why do you want to be introduced to Jacob…?”
“ Huh. First name basis… I see… And no reason… no reason at all…”
“That face you’re making is adorable but I don’t trust it.”
“Don’t worry, silly . You’re still my number one crush… Jacob’s just my number two… minus point five. ” 
“What?”
“Whooo! Bottomless hot chocolate!”
Aemond joyfully laughs at your attempt to switch the subject, glancing over at you with so much fondness. 
You turn on Luvie’s Why to get a rise out of him, but as he listens to the lyrics, he finds himself bopping his head along with the music while thinking about you.
All the love songs tend to do that now.
a.t. 💗 🎵 crosswords ·  olivia dean
---
As painful as the brunch incident was, it might have been a blessing in disguise. 
Aemond has been doing everything to make it up to you — not that you were asking him to do anything. He was just doing it on his own accord. Little things to make you smile. 
Which is why Aemond finally agreed to visit his father with you. 
You’ve asked him casually a couple times before in the past, but he always declined with some excuse. You never pressed him to explain, realizing he must have a reason. But still, you knew how much his father misses him and the rest of his siblings so you always offered him a choice to accompany you if he ever wanted to. 
Today is that day. 
On the drive over, you can tell Aemond is uneasy just by a few subtle nuances. You can read Aemond’s mood pretty well by now.
Laying a hand on his lap, you say, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to go.”
Aemond’s eye flicks over to you for a quick second before it’s back on the road. “I want to. I just… I haven’t seen him in a while, so… I hope it’s not strained. I don’t want to put you between that.”
You hum, understanding. It has been a long time since Aemond visited his father – or talked to him – you don’t exactly know what caused the falling out but you are sure you stopped seeing Aemond or Aegon visit a couple months before you and Aemond started dating.
All you know is that Viserys is very tuned in and joyous whenever you talk about Aemond with him. Acting more like your girlfriends than the girls do, goading for you to tell him more, tell him mor e like the musical Grease. 
(You are still trying to forget about how a few days ago, you had been gushing about Aemond to his dad and even thanked him for encouraging you to go to that party that started all this. Throughout your spiel, Viserys had that knowing look on his face and you knew right then that he knew exactly how you feel about Aemond.
It’s so embarrassing. Love is so embarrassing. 
So again, you are trying to forget about that.)
Hoping that Viserys won’t bring any of that up, you offer your boyfriend a comforting smile and a light squeeze on his thigh. “I’m sure he’ll just be happy to see you.”
Aemond looks over at you again and instantly loosens up. There should be a study done on how easily you can disarm him with just a simple smile.
Aemond holds your hand tightly as the two of you step up to the door of his father’s home. Mostly to keep you from falling on the ice on the ground since you are quite clumsy, but he also needs you as an anchor to make him feel braver.
You let the both of you inside with your key, his father already knows that the two of you will be visiting.
Inside, you call his father’s name out while you rid yourself of your winter jacket and boots. You slip on your indoor slippers and grab the medical bag from the closet. Might as well do a routine checkup while you are there. 
Aemond watches you, looking more at home at his father’s house than he feels. It’s a little backwards, but he does know he is partly at fault. He hasn’t been back here since before this school year started and he’s been dodging all this father’s attempt to speak to him — only answering in stilted very brief texts or through his mother or Helaena. His father doesn’t even know the reason why Aemond became so cold towards him all of the sudden. 
It’s complicated. 
“Here, let me,” Aemond says after hanging up his coat, taking the medical bag from you. He actually stumbles a little when you hand it over fully, completely taken aback by how heavy it is. He stares at you for a moment in absolute awe. 
Gorgeous, intelligent, and strong. Aemond really did get so lucky with you. 
“What?” You question, and he shakes his head, looking down to smile to himself. 
The conservatory, of course, is where you find Viserys. But when Aemond steps into the room and sees his father sitting by the big windows, he freezes in shock, stomach dropping in unease. The sight of his father now shocks him greatly.
It has only been seven months since Aemond last saw him, and sure that might be more than half a year but Aemond didn’t think it was that long. Not that Viserys was the picture of health all those months ago, but this change is alarming. 
Viserys is incredibly frail and thin now, skin a slight jaundice, and almost completely bald with only a few spots of hair left. He is staring out the window, milky eyes serene yet sad.
It takes Viserys a moment to glance over when you call him, but when he does, his mouth breaks into a wide smile when he notices Aemond beside you. 
“My boy!” Viserys cries, voice hoarse and weak. “You’re here!”
Aemond takes a hard swallow, an attempt to keep down the bile and guilt threatening to spill out. His breathing shortens, hands clammy and shaky. He wants to turn and run and —
A hand slips to intertwine with his, soft and warm, squeezing his hand three times. He turns his head and meets your sweet gaze and easy smile, comforting beyond belief. As his breathing evens out and his hands become steady, your head tips towards his father, a silent question which he answers with a nod. And so together, you make your way towards the older Targaryen.
“Hello father,” Aemond greets, allowing you to take the medical bag from him so you scrounge through it while he takes his father’s hand to pay him respect.  
“I see you’ve been doing well,” Viserys says with a kind smile after Aemond gets on one knee to press the back of his father’s hand onto his forehead. 
Standing up straight, Aemond clears his throat again, blinking away the wetness in his eye while he nods. “Yes, I have been… How have you been doing, father?”
“I’ve been doing—” Viserys takes a pause to cough, a hacking sound that makes Aemond cringe, “— well, I could be doing better, if your lovely girlfriend or Samwell will allow me a sweet treat every once in a while.”
Your eyes roll without malice, pricking his finger to check his blood sugar. “Once your blood sugar level lowers then Samwell will let me know if you're allowed anything sweet. But until then… So rry !”
You flash him a toothy smile after you sing-song your apology that makes Viserys laugh. The older man exchanges a look with his son, one of shared fondness for you.
“Aemond, please catch me up! What have you been doing lately? How are classes going? I heard from ____ that you two went to a pottery class a few days ago, how was that?”
While you go through other tests and diagnostics to send to Sam, you allow them to catch up. Aemond was a little wooden with his answers at first, but as time went on, he became more comfortable. Especially when you would throw in a comment or joke here and there that would make the both of them laugh. 
In the kitchen, you and Aemond work together to make a quick lunch. You show him his father’s meal plan, Aemond humming in understanding as explain to him the diet and why the food you are making helps. Before you take the food back to the conservatory, Aemond presses a tender kiss on your lips and thanks you for taking care of his father. 
After lunch, Viserys challenges Aemond to a game of Cyvasse. Apparently, according to Viserys, Aemond is the only one who has ever come close to beating him. Aemond accepts, warning his father that just because he hasn’t been around, that doesn’t mean he is out of practice. Him, Jon, and Robb have a little competition going on some mobile game app. 
Despite said practice, Aemond loses the first two games they play. He didn’t go down easily, though. Both games were some of the most intense games of Cyvasse you’ve ever witnessed. You’ve seen Viserys play against Jon, the security boys (Grenn, Pyp, and Eddison), and Sam; and you believe that Aemond is the only one who has come closest to defeating Viserys.
You had not realized that your boyfriend is so competitive. After he loses the third time, he sets up the board again for another. 
This fourth game is going on for a while. The longest Cyvasse game you’ve ever watched, and yet, instead of being bored, you are sat, entranced with the back and forth of wit.
It wasn’t looking good for Aemond, your boyfriend rubbing his temple and sighing deeply during all his turns. Meanwhile, Viserys is sitting straight, serene, like everything is going to plan.
Viserys takes Aemond’s catapult off the board and you think it’s doomed. Judging by the way Aemond narrows his gaze on the board, scrutinizing every move he could make, he is probably thinking the same. 
But then suddenly, a smirk lifts the corner of Aemond’s lips.
Slowly, his lithe fingers pick up his dragon and he moves — his eye flashing across to his father, triumph in that lilac gaze, a watch this — knocking over Viserys’ king piece.
Your mouth gapes, stunned. Did that just happen?
You glance between them, hand over your mouth, still unable to comprehend it. It had looked like Viserys was winning from your terrible understanding of the game. Even Aemond looked frustrated just a minute ago. But now…?
Aemond won.
The room is still and silent. Viserys looks dumbfounded, eyes searching the board for where he went wrong.
And then, after a long pause, Viserys breaks into a hearty laugh and proud smile. “Well done, my boy!”
He beckons Aemond over, and when Aemond does, Viserys wraps his arms around him. Aemond startles, hesitant, but slowly and surely, his arms wrap around his father as well.
Aemond peers at you from over Viserys’ shoulder, and you exchange smiles. Then he lets his eye close, burying his face into the crook of his father’s shoulder with a content sigh.
Your hands itch for a pen and paper to immortalize this moment forever. 
a.t. 💗 🎵 talking to strangers ·  maisie peters
---
It is the perfect Saturday night.
Lights down low, your favorite romantic comedy movie on the television screen, food from your favorite restaurant scattered on the coffee table, and you are comfy on the couch, cuddling your favorite — Ghost.
Tonight, you and the direwolf are alone in the apartment, his owner out on a boy’s night . The same boy’s night that your boyfriend is also partaking on.
“So, Robb asked me to hang out with him and the other guys this Saturday.”
Aemond had tried to look cool and collected when he told you, but you could tell he was surprised and happy that he had been invited. It’s cute. You hope they’re having fun.
“But not too much fun. Amiright, Ghost?”
Ghost tilts his head from side to side several times, not understanding you. You giggle, hugging him closer.
You’re sure that the boys are just doing their usual bar hopping — with maybe a trip to the arcade or bowling thrown in. You just hope they don’t scare off or traumatize Aemond with their crazy escapades. 
Theon sent you a snap just 15 minutes ago, with all of them in their Uber, singing (screaming) at the top of their lungs to ‘Can't Take My Eyes Off You’ since you told him what movie you were watching. Even their driver — Tormund, per the caption on the snap — was singing along with them. All of them were clearly already wasted to some degree. Though you only see Aemond for a quick second, he looks like he is having fun too, which makes you happy.   
take care of my boyfriend or else, greyjoy 🤬
In which, Theon had just replied with:
*gulp* 🥴
You and the girls had a girl’s day earlier that morning as well, but it was much more tamed. Margaery treated you all to this fancy nail place where you can order drinks while getting your nails done. You got your nails painted a nice shade of red since the holidays are coming soon. You can’t wait to show Aemond, he always likes red on you.
It’s during the middle of The Princess Diaries when you hear the struggle outside your front door. You check the time on your phone – 2:03 AM – and assume it must be the boys bringing Jon home. 
Pouting that you have to leave Ghost’s warmth, you squeeze him tight before you get up to pad over to the door. It’s clear that whoever is outside is trying to fit the key inside the lock, but isn’t successful with every muffled curse word you hear. Peering through the peephole, you are greeted with Robb’s forehead, so you unlock and open the door.
“Oh, thank Gods,” Robb rejoices, accidentally dropping Jon’s carabiner that holds his keys onto the ground. When he picks it up, that’s when you see Aemond’s holding up Jon behind him. The latter is so drunk he can barely stand on his own.
“Whoa…” You lean against the door, arms crossing, shaking your head at the state of your best friend. “Bowling?”
Jon is notoriously bad at bowling and whenever the boys do their bowling drinking game, it’s the only time Jon comes home absolutely plastered. 
“Yup!” Robb proudly answers. “It was me and Aemond against Jon and Theon. Aemond and I won, clearly.”
“Clearly,” You say with a laugh. “Where’s loser #2?”
“He’s in the Uber, which I should get back to before he throws up all over it,” Robb says, handing you Jon’s keys. “It’s a Tesla, ____, and I can’t afford to pay cleaning fines right now after all the gift shopping I’ve done!”
“Alright, go, go!” You urge, and he gives you a quick hug and says his goodbye to Jon and Aemond — let’s do this again soon, lads! — before running off. 
“ So… I’m guessing you had fun?” You ask Aemond, opening the door wide enough for him to drag both himself and Jon inside, pressing a kiss on his cheek when he passes by. Aemond hums happily and nods. 
“ Uuurghhh… ”
“I wasn’t asking you , Jon. You obviously had too much fun. ”  
It was a two person job to take Jon to his bedroom and tuck him into bed, but you and Aemond manage. You leave some Poppyvil and a glass of water on his bedside table before you and Aemond leave him with Ghost climbing up onto his bed. 
Sitting at the kitchen table with your boyfriend, you talk softly between one another, telling each other about your day. You show off your pretty new set of nails, which he compliments, taking your hands and kissing each of your fingers. You laugh, realizing that although he isn’t as visibly drunk as Jon and Robb, he still is tipsy enough to do things that he usually wouldn’t do while sober. 
During his turn to talk about his night, he takes a pause to hydrate. You watch him with your chin in the palm of your hand, visibly swooning at the sight of him. He is so regal and beautiful, and all he is doing is drinking water. The pretty curve of his neck exposed while his pretty Adam’s apple bobs with every swallow. 
But then his head tips back to get what little is left in the cup, and your eyes snap wide open, awoken from your daydreaming. 
Because right there, on his left earlobe that was obscured by his gorgeous silvery hair until this very moment, is a small silver hoop earring. 
You gasp out loud, standing up from the chair swiftly while pointing at it. “What is that?!”
Aemond jumps slightly at your sudden exclamation, touching where you are pointing, then he laughs sheepishly as he remembers. So many things happened during the boy’s night that he almost forgot about it. “Oh, this…? Well, you see… the boys said they were all planning on getting one, and that I didn’t have to… But then Theon said that someone… well, nevermind — why? Does it look awful?”
You take a step towards him, fitting yourself in between his legs. Aemond naturally makes room for you, pleased to finally be so close to you after the whole day of being without.  
From this close, you are able to fully admire his new piercing. The silver matches well with his undertone, you think as you gently trace the curvature of his ear, careful not to touch the still sensitive lobe. 
He was already so unbelievably beautiful before, but now…
“Aemond, I’m sorry… I don’t think I can do this,” you say, voice low yet full of feelings, dramatic as you shake your head and your face crumples. Instantly concerned, Aemond quickly searches your face, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you toward him. He murmurs a soft and adorably confused darling, what are you…? but you continue, “I have very weak muscles. I can’t fight for my life. I mean, I’ll obviously try — I really will! But…”  
You place your hands on both sides of his shoulders, sensually massaging down towards his chest and up again. Aemond’s eye goes wide, taking a hard swallow. “I don’t know if I can win against everyone who’s gonna go after you now that you have that piercing. Like, you were already hot before, but now you are downright criminally hot. I can’t fight, Aemond,” you lean down, whispering sultrily into his ear, “What if I don’t win?”
You feel his whole body shivering, his hands on you clutches tighter. “You have no competition. You’ll always win with me.”
“ Yeah…? ” You question softly, smirking with glee.
Aemond takes your chin gently between his fingers and turns your head toward him. The way he is looking at you has your heart beating incredibly fast. There is that twinkle in his eye that lets you believe that you can trust everything he says to you, that he will never lead you astray. 
“Yes,” Aemond murmurs as he moves to hover his mouth over yours, his thumb tracing your jaw.  “It’s only ever going to be you.”
He closes the space between you, kissing you hard and slow. His hand wraps around your neck, causing you to gasp softly which allows for Aemond to slip his tongue inside your mouth. It escalates after that, Aemond licking in your mouth with a moan, prying away for a moment just to catch your mouth at a different angle. Breaking apart then meeting over and over and over again.  
Aemond tries to pull you into his lap, to get you going on his thigh like he knows you love to do, but you push away from him gently with a soft laugh. He pouts up at you, and you just shake your head.    
“I wanna do something for you,” you whisper to him, turning his head to the side to press a sloppy kiss on his neck, just under his newly pierced earlobe. 
“What—” Aemond cuts himself off with a choked groan, your knee rubbing over the growing bulge in his pants. His reaction has you giggling as you kiss down his neck.
His heavy lidded eye watches as you go down onto your knees, slow , with your hips swaying from side to side. Your hands are on his body the entire time, caressing down too. 
A dance just for him, and he is captivated by it.
When your knees press against the wooden floor, you make Aemond spread his leg wider for you. Rubbing back and forth along his thighs, you deliberately avoid where he really wants to feel your touch.
“I wanna make you feel good,” you say with a lick of your lips. 
Aemond squirms in his seat, clearly already pent up. “Sweetheart…”
This is supposed to be a treat, so you don’t tease him any further, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants effortlessly. Aemond lifts his hips, enabling you to pull his pants and boxer briefs down just below his knees, his length flopping up to his stomach.
You take him in your hand. Perfectly red nails wrapped around his flushed red, aching cock. 
It’s a pretty sight, and you believe Aemond thinks so too, judging by the way he twitches in the palm of your hand, the tip of his cockhead oozing pre.
As soon as you start to stroke him, Aemond moans out loud, causing you to stop immediately. Brows drawing together in confusion, he whimpers like a wounded puppy, but you just press a finger to your smirking lips. “You have to keep quiet, Aemond. We can’t wake Jon or Ghost up,” slowly, using his precum to make your movements smoother, you begin to stroke him again, “Can you keep quiet for me, baby?"
Biting down hard on his bottom lip, Aemond only nods. Keeping quiet like he just promised. 
Aemond is doing such a good job. Even when you start to play with his heavy balls — kneading and rolling it against your other palm — he doesn’t make a single sound. He is leaking profusely now, your hand dripping with him. 
Fluttering your eyes up at him, you lean forward to kitten lick his spend trailing down the back of your hand still wrapped around his cock, and Aemond has to close his eye and pray to not say anything. A praise for you bitten at the tip of his tongue.
Noting the way he is struggling to keep quiet, you pump his shaft a few more times before you squeeze him tight just around the base. This causes his hip to thrust forward, his fist flying up so he can bite down on his knuckles.
“Baby,” you murmur, and Aemond opens his eye gradually, peering down at you. His chest is expanding greatly, breathing heavily. Your head turns sideways, sucking and kissing along the thickest vein on his cock, then ending with a broad lick around his tip. “Guide me, okay? Want to make it feel so good for you.”
Aemond nods, resting his hand on the back of your head, watching as you lower your mouth to his cock. The sheer size of him used to intimidate you, but you’ve had him down your throat enough times now that you know you can take him quite well. 
Aemond shivers as your lips wrap around him, humming on your descent down. He tenderly tucks your hair behind your ear, getting a better look of himself disappearing inside your pretty mouth. 
As your hot saliva coats him, the way you are hollowing your cheeks feels too good. His hand grips tight onto the back of your head, unable to stop himself from pushing your head deeper down on his cock. Soon, his tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag around him but he doesn’t let up — he is not fully inside yet. You are not giving up either, tapping your finger on his thigh to let him know you are capable of taking more. 
He pulls you back a little, then he pushes you forward again, this time your nose is brushing into the hair around the base of his shaft and your mouth is stuffed full entirely of him. You swallow multiple times around him, your throat feeling the way he throbs and twitches uncontrollably. 
Then he lets go of the back of your head, grinning down at you, allowing you to do your worst. You get sloppy with it, drool dripping all over his cock as you deepthroat him until he is becoming even more and more sensitive, his release coming soon.
Aemond can’t hold back anymore — a loud panting moan falling out of his thoroughly bitten lips.
You glance up — and if you weren’t already choking on his cock or had tears in your eyes, you definitely will have now.  
The golden glow of shitty kitchen light serves as a divine halo around Aemond. With his head tipped back, mouth wide open in a muted moan, the silver of the piercing shining brilliantly — he looks like an angel. 
Aemond comes beautifully, he always does. 
You pull back enough for his cock to lay on your tongue, letting him shoot his load into your mouth. He softens on your tongue before you completely move away, and he watches as you swallow down his tangy taste without any complaint. Even wiping your messy mouth with a satisfied smile. 
Aemond pulls you up to him, and you sit to the side on his lap while your hands intertwine behind his neck.
“Your turn,” Aemond says as his heated mouth finds yours.
You shake your head, giggling as he kisses along your jawline. “Nuh-uh, I’m tired. It’s like 3 AM, Aemond.”
“But—”
It is frantic scratching on a door and whimpering that pulls the two of you away from each other. 
Alarmed, you meet each other's gaze.
Oh, no… You woke up Ghost. He is probably worried about all the noises he is hearing. Poor baby.
“Let’s let him out, calm him down, and then go to bed.”
“Right, Okay.”
“Aemond! Put your dick back in your pants first!”
“Shit, right!”
You laugh, kissing him while he does just that. 
a.t. 💗 🎵 heart out ·  the 1975
---
Aemond has been visiting his father a lot lately. At least three times a week. Most of the time with you but there were some days he actually went on his own. 
It’s strange, but nice. It feels like he is getting to know his father again. Repairing their relationship that his father had no idea was broken in the first place.
So when he gets a call from Viserys, asking him to come by with just him, Aemond gives him his word that he’ll be there after his last class of the day. 
The last class ended up being canceled so he arrives at his father’s mansion earlier than expected, pulling up at the same time as his father’s nurse, Samwell.  
“Hello Samwell,” Aemond greets with a nod, as they walk up the path together.
“Oh, hi Aemond!” Sam exclaims with glee. “It’s nice to see you around here again!”
“Yeah, it is,” Aemond smiles, helping Sam with the packages left out on the front door. While Sam unlocks the door, Aemond shifts from one foot to the other, pursing his lips to the side. “Can I ask you something?”
Entering the house together, and scuffing off the snow on the soles of their boots, Sam nods at Aemond. “Of course!”
Aemond takes a shallow breath. “How do you think he’s doing? Anything I should be concerned about?”
Samwell frowns, taking a moment to figure out how to say what he is going to say next. “To be honest, Aemond, he could be doing better. I’m actually here because the doctors are concerned about the numbers ___ sent us yesterday. They’re not so bad that it warrants an immediate visit to the hospital, but they are preparing a room for him to stay after his bi-weekly visit on Friday.”
Aemond hums, frowning. That doesn’t sound good. 
Aemond follows Samwell around to look for his father, but they don’t find him in any of his usual spots. The conservatory, the living area, the kitchen, his bedroom — all empty. 
It makes Aemond really nervous. Luckily Sam is there and he is more levelheaded. “Let’s split up. I’ll tackle upstairs and you check the other rooms on this floor, okay?”
They quickly get to work. Every room Aemond finds empty has dread running down his spine. 
Where is he? Where is he? Where is he? 
“Found him!” He hears Samwell cheerily call from somewhere on the second floor, allowing Aemond to let out a breath of relief. 
Aemond climbs up the stairs, three steps at a time. He calls out, and when Samwell answers, he follows his voice. 
He finds himself standing in front of an open door to a room that he has only been into once before.
Because it’s Aemma’s art room, Viserys’ first wife. 
Inside, he can see Samwell already tending to his father, but Aemond stands there, not knowing what to do. It wasn’t forbidden for him to go in there, but it was a taboo between him and his siblings. And it seems that those made up rules are still ingrained in his head.
Because Aemma is the reason his father didn’t fully love his mother. Aemma is the reason his father didn’t love him or his other siblings. Aemma is the reason for the divorce. And Aemma is part of the reason for the will that he and Aegon found in the beginning of summer. 
At least that was what they were all made to believe.
“Aemond, get over here,” Samwell beckons him over. Aemond sees his father wave to him weakly, smile weak as well, and so he swiftly walks towards where Viserys is sitting in front of an unfinished painting on an easel. A painting that hasn’t been worked on for 27 years.
“Are you well, father? Should we take you to the hospital?”
Visersy shakes his head. “No, no… I am fine. But can you…” He shakily points to another chair close by, “... bring that chair closer and sit down for me, please?”
Aemond does as he is told, settling down on the chair right in front of his father.
“I have something for you,” Viserys begins. Meanwhile Samwell is busy around them, doing all the things necessary for his job, his father is used to it so he continues, “Do you see that box over there?”
Aemond looks over to where his father is pointing and spies a small dark blue velvet box on the ledge of the easel. 
“Can you grab it?”
Aemond reaches over, stretching out his arm and is able to grab hold of the box without moving from his chair. 
Then Viserys urges him to open it with a smile, and so Aemond lifts open the box and what he sees has his brows narrowing together, unable to comprehend why it is in his hands. 
It’s a ring — but that’s not what has him so confused. 
Aemond knows what this opulent sapphire ring is. There are too many pictures of Aemma Targaryen around the mansion to not know.
“This is the highly-coveted Targaryan engagement ring, it’s been in our family for thousands and thousands of years…  And I want you to have it, Aemond.” 
Glancing up at his father, still confused, Aemond presses, “But… why?”
“I hope you don’t find it disrespectful, Aemond. I know it’s strange to give you a ring that was the engagement ring that I gave to a woman that wasn’t your mother. But it’s a family heirloom, and I always knew it was going to be passed down to one of my children to give to the person that they fall in love with — and I hope I am not being presumptuous to think that you are in love with ___, and I’m not pressuring you to be—”
“It’s alright,” Aemond cuts him off with a soft smile. “I am… I am in love with her.”
It’s cathartic to finally say it out loud. Now that he has done it, he wants the whole world to know. 
He and his father share a look, his father appears to be so happy for him. 
But wait—
“You want me to ask her to marry me?” Aemond questions, eye widening in bewilderment. 
“No, no!” Viserys shakes his head, laughing. “Not if you’re not ready! You can do it whenever it feels right for you two — if it ever feels right… I know feelings can change, and all that…”
“I don’t think my feelings for her will ever change,” Aemond says, so sure of it. “But I’m not sure we’re quite ready for that yet. We both still have college to finish…”
Viserys nods, understanding. “I still want you to keep it. Even if you want to buy her a different ring, or how you youths these days don’t even find the point in marriage…” He stops to laugh, and even Samwell chuckles a bit,  “You can hand it down to your children.” 
“Thank you, father…” Aemond murmurs, glancing down at the ring. In his head, he imagines himself giving it to you during some grand gesture— and then another during a small one. Many different scenarios drift though his vivid imagination, and each one feels right. The ring on your dainty finger would look so right. It’s meant for you. 
“Just one condition…” His father holds out his shaky hand, and Aemond cocks his head, questioning. “I get to have a front row seat… and Samwell too, along with his wife, Gilly.”
Aemond laughs, nodding along as he takes his father’s hand to shake on it. “Alright. I think ___ will also agree to that.”
“Fantastic! Gilly loves weddings!” Samwell comments, overhearing the deal. 
Aemond and father talk a while more, until Samwell wraps up. 
“Okay, lunch time!” Samwell announces. “Aemond, would you like to give me a hand?”
“Of course.”
But the two of them don’t even make it out the door before they hear hacking and rough coughing behind them.
Aemond turns, just in time to witness his father falling, hitting his head hard against the floor. His body convulses after the impact, moving erratically. 
Something is not right. 
Aemond pales, blood rushing to head, feeling faint.
Is this really happening? This cannot be happening. 
Samwell rushes past him to attend to his father. 
Meanwhile, Aemond stands there and stares. 
Horrified and frozen.
158 notes · View notes
screeching-bunny · 9 months
Note
Helloooo my fave yandere!character writer! I hope your having a wonderful day! Can i request yandere!jock with male!reader and he finds the reader crying bc someone was bullying them or said smth mean or smth like that? Ik he would be pissed but i was thinking something along the lines of this:
*Reader explains what happens*
*Yandere!Jock absolutely pissed and turns to go beat the shit out of them*
Then the reader would grab is arm to stop him and say smthing like: “wait!…please…..please just….stay with me….please?” Like EEEEEEE I LOVE YANDERE!JOCK SMMMM AND IMA PASS OUT IF YOU DO THIS! OKAY THANKS BYE
(Also plz ignore if your requests are closed rn)
Yandere! Jock x Male Reader
Asks 2
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Reader is specifically going to be Male in this post!!!
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Asks 1
Yandere! Jock liked looking at you whether it be intention or not his eyes were almost always on you. He loved looking at every expression you made throughout your day to day life and practically memorized every fine detail on your face. So it was no surprise that he was instantly alerted when he saw a hint of sadness appear on your face when you came in for your afternoon class. Like a little leach he started attaching himself towards you with a concerned look on his face to find out what had happened to his little darling but alas his attempts reamied futile as you refused to give him an answer that he accepted.
“I’m just tired and just didn’t get that much sleep last night.”
Tired his ass. Yandere! Jock knew for a fact that you fell asleep early last night while watching an animal documentary. How does he know this? Well, he was stalking I mean watching over you last night. Anyways the sentence “The giant horse cock weighs over eight pounds” was still fresh in his mind but that's not the point! The point is something or someone made you upset! This is honestly so absolutely unacceptable!! When class finishes he ends up cornering you to try and figure out what has happened to you. Soon you start to give in and tell him the exact reason as to why with tears bawling out of your eyes.
When he finds out the reason he is beyond pissed. A bunch of npc bullies had the audacity to go and bully you! There is nothing he wants to do then skin those losers alive for making you cry like this. How fucking dare they. Yandere! Jock immediately decides that at that moment, he would go on a manhunt. He genuinely believes that it’d be a good riddance, no way in hell is someone going to miss them. As he tries to get up, he is immediately stopped by you as you grab ahold of his arm.
“Please stay, I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Holy shit! That sentence damn near put him in a coma. He just can’t believe how adorable you are. With that, he decides right away to bring you to his home in order to comfort you. The rest of the day is spent with just the two of you guys together while watching Netflix and ordering out to eat. All of his plans that he had before were canceled in favor of being by your side. He does his best to make you happy and laugh as much as possible. That smiling face of yours suits you better than a teary eyed expression. Although he can’t do it now, he vows to absolutely destroy the lives of your bullies. The mental and physical wellbeing of yourself matter more than anything in the world to him. Anything that causes harm to you he quickly deals with even if it means people. All that he wants is that you’ll be safe in his arms and by his side whenever he wakes up.
He makes it a point to prove the words of you tormentors were false and does his best to undo their claims. He’d be so appalled by the whole situation and just can’t wrap around his head at how someone could be mean to you. Like just look at you! You’re literally perfect what the hell were they smoking when they decided to verbally assault you. Yandere! Jock would be so overbearing and clingy towards you. Wherever you went he was close behind you. You’re going grocery shopping? Cool he’s right by your side. You gotta go to class? He’s right by you. Even if he doesn’t have the class he’s still coming. Showering? Move over and make room, he wants to shower as well. Is totally the type to throw a fit when you say no which causes you to relent and let him follow you.
In a few weeks after this incident there were missing people reports all over town of local college students. The same ones who coincidentally were vicious towards you. Everytime Yandere! Jock walks past these posters, he has a hidden smug look on his face. Justifies it by saying that he’s doing it in the name of love and that those people were the spawns of Satan. Besides, they're not even dead yet. They’re just trapped in a cabin in some random woods that only he has access to. Content with himself he spends his days by your side and pledging to himself that he’d never let anyone bother you ever again.
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490 notes · View notes
bloatedandalone04 · 2 months
Text
Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.4
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Series Masterlist | Original Fic
➪in which anakin feels completely isolated from you for the first time in five years, and he doesn’t know if he will ever be given the chance to fix his mistake.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 4k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
Anakin gave his guitar to Theo as he sprinted off stage and towards the very dressing room he broke your heart in.
You never came back after walking away at the beginning of the show, and that had him completely on edge. He looked around the backstage area and when he couldn’t find you anywhere, he checked the dressing room. But you weren’t in there either. 
Maybe you went back to the bus? God, he hoped so. He just got you back, he couldn’t handle losing you again so soon, and for a completely different reason this time. 
His nerves were completely shot as he practically sprinted to the bus, the only thought on his mind being to get back to you and further explain things to you. If he needed to drop to his knees and beg for you, he was more than willing to do so, because you were it. His one and only, and you always would be. 
The show tonight was one of the longer ones, so in the two hours he was on stage you could have literally gone anywhere. His heart was in his throat as he pulled open the bus door and looked around, and he could feel it quicken its pace as he realized that you weren’t here either. 
Where the fuck did you go? You told him you’d be here after the show, yet he couldn’t find any trace of you. 
Actually, he couldn’t find any sign of you at all. Your bag was gone, your jacket was picked up from off the couch, and your laptop wasn’t on the table anymore. “No,” he rasped. “Fuck. No.”
His hands were shaking as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called you, but he was sent straight to voicemail. 
You were ignoring him.
“Fuck,” he nearly yelled as he called you again, only to be met with the same result. “Fuck!”
After the third call he was forced to leave you a message, and he felt as pathetic as he sounded. “Baby, please. Please….call me back. I’m so sorry,” he rambled as he pulled at his sweaty hair. “We need to talk about this more, we have to work this out, I….fuck, Y/n, you said you’d be here after the show.”
He was crying now and was choking on his words as he said them, and he hoped you would be able to understand him, but he also hoped you couldn’t. He hated the fact that he was the one crying after he fucked things up, possibly beyond repair, when he really had no right to. 
“Please, just…tell me where you are and that you’re okay and safe, please,” he begged and dropped onto the couch. “I love you.” 
His phone fell to the floor after that and his hands came up to cover his face. 
He had no idea what to do. He was shaking and his eyes were sore as he couldn’t seem to stop the tears from leaving them.
What the fuck is he going to do? How is he going to fix this? 
He can’t lose you. He can’t, he wouldn’t be able to function without you. The thought of not having you around him after this was enough to send him into a panic attack, and he knew he needed to get a hold of himself, but he didn’t know how. 
You weren’t here, weren’t at the venue, and your stuff was gone. Where did you go? You wouldn’t have left without telling him, right? You wouldn’t have gone back to London and not tell him, right? 
He didn’t know anymore. 
His phone went off from its place on the floor, and he scrambled off the couch to grab it, and when he saw that it was you who texted him, he nearly cried of joy. But your message wasn’t what he wanted to read, and it left him feeling even worse.
Princess: I’m safe. I just need some time to think. Please, at least give me that. 
-
You slept on a chair in the airport last night, your duffle bag being your pillow and your jacket being your blanket. 
Your eyes were bloodshot and sore beyond words from all the crying you’ve done since Anakin told you that he cheated on you. Did that count as him cheating on you? Not exactly, but his lips touched someone else’s, so what did that make it? Accidentally cheating? You didn’t know and you were too upset to care about what to call it. 
After he went on stage and began the show, you couldn’t stand it anymore and left. You went back to the bus and was originally going to stay there and sleep on the couch, but the more you got into your head, the more you wanted to get the fuck out of there completely. 
Running away from your problems never helped anybody, but you were too stubborn to think rationally at this point. 
So you bought a ticket for the earliest flight back to London and grabbed your things before fleeing from the bus and sending him a text after listening to his voicemail. 
You felt bad about leaving like that, but you were so upset and hurt. Your heart felt like it had been physically ripped from your body and been left back with Anakin in Paris; the place you wanted to visit for so long now with the love of your life. And the two days you were there with him were amazing, and you were prepared for so much more, but every hope and dream you had for that city had been crushed and destroyed. You weren’t sure you ever wanted to go back, Eiffel Tower be damned. 
There were other towers you could see, right?
The whole flight back to London you wrote down the last few chapters for your short story in your notebook, needing the distraction to help keep you sane enough to be able to get back to your room in one piece. 
You looked like a mess once you got back onto campus, and you avoided everyone like the plague as you made a beeline towards your dorm and had a forty five minute shower. It helped a little bit, but you were still left feeling empty as you sat down on your bed with wet hair and opened up your laptop to type out what you wrote down on the plane. 
After you added some final touches, you printed it out and got changed into a pair of jeans and a grey shirt, leaving your hair still damp as you made your way to Kenneth’s classroom. 
It was empty when you entered it, and he looked up at you in surprise when you closed the door behind you and walked over to him. “Miss Y/l/n,” he greeted and closed the book he was reading. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. I thought you’d still be with that boyfriend of yours.”
The mention of Anakin had a sharp pain shoot straight through your heart, and you flinched slightly as you cleared your throat. “Yeah, something happened with that,” you whisper and he gives you a look of concern as he notices the way your eyes glaze over with tears. “I’m okay. Promise.”
He gives you a smile that nearly had you sobbing right then and there, because how the fuck did things get to this? How did you end up back in London, crying in front of your instructor with wet hair that dampened your shirt as the seconds went on? 
“Alright,” he said quietly and braced his elbows on his desk. “What’s going on?”
His voice was so comforting and caring, you allowed your walls to come down a bit as you held up the stack of papers in your hand and wiped your eyes with your other. “I wrote my short story,” you announce. “I didn’t get around to editing it, so it’s probably full of errors, but I just wanted to give it to you because..”
You stopped your sentence short, but Kenneth gave you a look that told you he knew exactly what you were saying. “Because you’re not coming back to class,” he finished for you. “Are you?”
He stated it instead of asking it, and you bite down on your bottom lip as you nodded. Glancing down at the papers in your hands, he gestures for you to give them to him, and you do so with a sad smile. “You don’t have to read it,” your voice broke as you felt yourself beginning to cry again. “I just wanted to show that I really did love every second of these classes. I know I can do so much more, but it’s just not a good time for me right now.”
Kenneth flipped through the pages and looked up at you. “I’ll read it,” he promised, his gaze the softest you had ever seen it, and you realized just how much you would miss being able to talk to him like this and not feel embarrassed about it. “You’re an amazing writer, Y/n. It was a privilege to have you in my class, and I hate to see you go so soon, but I also want you to start putting yourself first. You’re always worried about everyone else around you, don’t forget to take care of yourself, too. Whatever happened before this, don’t let it take over. Use it, if it helps.”
You nod and wipe at your eyes with both hands now, sniffling quietly as you look at the man you respect deeply. 
“You’re going to go on and do great things. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you,” he lightened the mood by laughing and it made you laugh, too. “Just don’t forget to put yourself first. I remember when my teacher told me that, and it stuck with me for most of my life. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear it until he said it.”
And you didn’t either. 
It was true, you put everyone above yourself and it often made you forget to take care of yourself. But not anymore. 
You were going back home, and you were dropping out of the program, but you weren’t quitting. You just needed to figure some things out and keep yourself grounded until you decided what was going to happen next. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything.”
Kenneth nodded and set your story down onto his desk. “Good luck, Y/n,” he said and it was the second time he used your first name since you walked in here, and it somehow made everything seem so much more real. You weren’t his student anymore. “I’ll reach out to you once I’ve finished reading this.”
“Okay,” you nod and turn around, giving the classroom one last look before heading towards the administrative office to officially drop out of the school. 
You cried more as you packed up your room, and then Bailey came in and let you cry onto her shoulder as she held you and told you to keep in touch. After that you met Evan’s eyes from across campus, and the three bags you were carrying told him all he needed to know. 
He brought you into his arms, too, and these were the people you were going to miss most about this chapter in your life. “Call me whenever you need to, okay? Or whenever you want to,” he begged and you nod against his chest. “Fuck, this sucks. I’m going to miss you.”
You laugh sadly, “I’m going to miss you, too,” then you step away and get a ride back to the airport, your heart feeling the heaviest its felt in all the twenty two years you’ve been alive. 
-
Anakin didn’t sleep at all, but that was no surprise. 
He got a good two nights of sleep with you while you were here, but now that you were gone, his sleep schedule was already back to being fucked. 
His whole body felt weak as he paced around backstage, holding his phone up to his ear as he called you for the first time today. He told himself that he’d give you some time, but fuck that. He missed you and needed to see where things were with you at the moment. 
“Hi,” you answered, making Anakin instantly stop pacing. 
“Hi,” he said back quickly. “How are you? Where are you?” He had no idea where you were since you only told him that you were safe, and he wasn’t one of those boyfriends that needed their girlfriends location on all the time. 
“In the car,” you answered and he felt his heart drop. “On the way to the airport.”
“The…airport?” He stuttered, his eyes burning as he let your words sink in. “You’re going back to London?”
“No,” you say quietly, and he could hear in your voice the way you were holding back tears. “I’m already in London. I’m going back home, Anakin.”
Anakin felt his whole body tense up, and it felt almost painful to move. So he stayed still as he tried to process your words. “You’re in London? How? When?”
“Last night. I bought a ticket and left. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I just don’t know what to do anymore, Anakin,” you cried and the remaining pieces of his heart shattered to bits. “I dropped out of the writing program and now I’m on my way back home. I need to feel normal right now or I might just go crazy.”
“Baby,” he shakily said as he met Vinny’s eyes from across the room. His friend gave him a concerned look, but Anakin just turned around and headed for the dressing room. “Baby, please.”
“Please, what? I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what to say,” you sobbed and he let the door close loudly behind him once he reached the dressing room. 
“Say that we’re going to be okay,” he begged, beginning to pace around the small room as he tugged at his hair. “Say that you and I will be fine, that we’ll talk this through and that we’re going to be okay.”
You were quiet for a few seconds, leaving him to listen to your uneven breathing. “You’re in Paris, Anakin,” he hated the way you hadn’t called him Ani even once since the start of this call. “I’ll be in LA tomorrow. Maybe this time away from each other will be good.”
“We’ve been away from each other,” he said as his heart twisted in agony. “I don’t want more time apart.”
“You’re on tour, Anakin-”
“I’ll come home,” he cut you off. “I’ll talk to Helena, we’ll stop the tour for a few weeks or something. Please.”
You sniff quietly. “The tour is too important,”
“You’re more important. We’re more important,” he thought maybe he was getting through to you, but then you destroyed that small ounce of hope with a single sentence. 
“I can’t do this,” you whispered. “I need time. Have fun on the rest of the tour, Anakin. I really mean that.”
Then you hung up before he could say another word, leaving him to call you back three times before you turned your phone off. 
“Fuck!” Anakin yells out and throws his phone onto the couch before sitting down next to it, his hands coming up to cover his face as he tries to hold back his tears. 
This was all his fault. He fucked things up between you beyond repair, and he was the one to blame. 
You flew back to London, for fucks sake, and the whole time he thought you were still here. And now you’re going back to LA, back to the apartment you and he shared, and possibly packing up there as well. 
What was he supposed to do? He needed to be on stage in less than twenty minutes, and he was on the verge of a panic attack. 
Anakin looked around the room wildly, as if anything he would help him even a little bit. His eyes landed on the various alcohol bottles placed on a table in the corner, and he knew he shouldn’t. The last time he drank was at the club with Liz, then she kissed him and he threw up twice and swore he’d never drink again.
But it was different this time. 
He needed to feel nothing right now, to get him through the show, then he’d figure out how to fix things. 
Without giving it a second thought, Anakin grabbed the first bottle he could reach and spent the next ten minutes drinking it. He set the now empty bottle down and left his phone on the couch, swinging the door open and stumbling his way backstage. 
The first person he saw was Liz. Of course it was Liz. 
Anakin’s eyes glazed over and he made it to her in less than four strides. She turned to face him with that fucking smirk of hers, and he narrowed his eyes on the bruise that had formed on the bridge of her nose, and for a split second he was proud that his girlfriend did that to her, then he remembered that you might not be his girlfriend anymore. “There you are,” she cooed. “We were starting to get worried.”
“Shut up,” he muttered, getting into her personal space. This was another situation where he could use his size to his advantage, even if he hated to do it, but he didn’t care right now. “This is all your fault. Y/n left because of what you did, because of what we did. Are you happy? Are you fucking proud of yourself?”
Vinny, who was standing nearby quickly made his way over, as did Helena, who had been talking with Theo a few feet away. “Anakin,” Vinny murmured, pulling on his arm. “Hey, don’t do this, man. She’s not worth it.”
Helena guided Liz away and towards the side of the stage, and Anakin could see how angry his manager was as she talked to the photographer. 
Anakin turned to Vinny, his eyes burning and his head spinning. “She left,” he rasped. “She left, Vin. Y/n left to go back home.”
Vinny stepped back in surprise but kept his hand on Anakin’s arm. “Back home? Like, back to London?”
“No, back to LA. She already went back to London and dropped out of the program and now she’s going back home,” he nearly cried. “She’s going to leave me, Vinny. I lost her.”
The drummer looked alarmed, and he pulled Anakin into his arms within seconds. “It’s okay,” he tried to comfort him, but they both knew it would never work. “It’s okay.”
Anakin felt pathetic. This is the second time Vinny had to comfort him in less than two weeks, and while he knew Vinny would never mind doing so, Anakin still felt terrible. It shouldn’t be this way. He should be better than this. 
“We’ll talk after the show,” Vinny promised, pulling away and reaching up to smooth out Anakin’s hair. “You and I will figure everything out, okay? It’s going to be okay.”
Anakin felt like a shell of himself as he nodded and allowed Vinny to lead him out onto stage, his mind a mess of thoughts and doubts and worries, and all of them were about you. 
The lights were blinding and Anakin’s vision blurred from the flashes. His head was pounding and his throat was dry as he tried to get out the last song of the night as quickly as he could, but he felt sick. The bourbon he had downed earlier didn’t help, either. 
He felt bile rise up his throat but he held it back and tore his eyes away from the crowd so he could look over at Theo. The bass player gave him a concerned look as he began to sing the song as well, no doubt sensing something was wrong and deciding to help the poor guy out.
Anakin was thankful for that as he didn’t have to raise his voice anymore since Theo is singing alongside him now, so his throat was given somewhat of a break. While his friend didn’t have a strong enough voice to be the lead singer, Theo still had a pretty good singing voice, and Anakin knew he should probably start having him sing in more songs in the future.
He felt his heartbeat quicken as even more sweat began to settle on his skin. The flannel he had adorned at the start of the show had long since been tossed aside and had left him in just his graphic tee, but he was still so fucking hot, and the lights weren’t helping at all. 
He made the mistake of looking over to his right, where he saw Liz and Helena standing backstage. While his manager had a frown on her lips, Liz had a lustful look in her eyes, and somehow that made Anakin feel even more sick. 
His fingers fumbled on the strings as he messed up the tempo of the song, which is something he had never done while he was out on stage before. Embarrassment floods through him and he quickly falls back into the right rhythm with Vinny and Theo backing him up as best as they could. 
All these cameras on him were not helping, even though he was used to being filmed at this point. He felt like was three seconds away from having a full on panic attack, and he would probably die of humiliation if he woke up tomorrow morning to see thousands of videos online of him breaking down on stage. 
The headline ‘Anakin Skywalker Has Epic Meltdown During Last Song Of Show’ was one he refused to read the following day. Fuck, he hated those stupid tabloids. They were written by money hungry, self-obsessed assholes who wouldn’t know what privacy is if it slapped them in the face. 
You hated them, too, and your distaste for them was more than valid. 
He missed you. God, did he ever. 
Anakin wasn’t used to missing you. He never needed to. Ever since his third year of high school he’s had you by his side. You were never more than a few feet away from him back then, and even now you were always usually backstage and quietly cheering him on. You should be where Liz is currently standing now. 
Or maybe he should be with you. 
Since the second you became his girlfriend you were always his top priority.
He hated that he had somehow managed to forget that fact the minute a pretty girl started paying more attention to him than you were. Could you be blamed? You were thousands of miles away and chasing your own dream while he was living out his. You couldn’t give him every second of your time like he was used to receiving, and he really fucking hated how he had actually managed to turn into one of those pricks who forgets about how good he has it as soon as things don’t end up going his way. 
Anakin wanted to stop singing the song and call out to you, but you weren’t in the crowd. You weren’t backstage. You weren’t here. You weren’t with him. You wouldn’t answer him, because you’re so fucking far away while he is here acting like everything is just fine. All he wanted to do was to run off stage, find you, and wrap you up in his arms, but he wasn’t sure if he had that right anymore.
He’s insecure and has never been away from you for this long. It was like he didn’t know how to properly function without you by his side. 
All the excuses in the world would never make up for just how poorly he’s treated you and for how little effort he’s been putting into your relationship. 
He didn’t blame you for wanting to end it.
But he needed you. He had just gotten you back, just gotten that sense of normalcy back, but you were gone again. 
Possibly for good this time, and he only had himself to blame.
-
One more part after this x
161 notes · View notes
chloeangelic · 5 months
Text
addressing the drama (with receipts)
I wanted to have my ducks in a row before speaking out instead of just responding; I’m not doing this to change anyone’s opinions - it’s really not possible change someone’s perception of me even if it’s based on falsehoods - but I need to do this so I know I’ve said and shown what needs to be shown, and people can do with it what they please. 
To the readers and writers who have blocked me, unfollowed me, and mutuals who have stopped talking to me over this - I’m really, really sad you didn’t come to me first and give me the opportunity to explain what was going on. I understand if you wanted to distance yourself from drama but I also need you to understand that this was not discourse-drama I willingly got myself into. This was a month of frequent harassment and slander that eventually turned into bullying by a group of people using false info, hiding behind side blogs and anons, and I hoped it would blow over but it never seemed to stop. With anons turned off for most of the last two months, people have gone to my friends’ inboxes instead to harass them about me (and insult them in the process), and I can’t do this anymore.
I feel so alienated and disliked in this community that I can’t go on the dash without feeling like I shouldn’t interact with anyone out of fear that they’ll get uncomfortable seeing me in their notifs. People keep saying they want the community to get better and then they jump on the bandwagon of vague posting and RBing without taking a second to verify the claims, clearly not realizing how much hurt it causes to perpetuate it. If you’re reading this, I  hope your name isn't the next one they pull out of the hat when they want someone new to push off the platform. 
Explanations, timelines and receipts below. 
-
For anyone waiting for an explanation regarding the posts and anons about me that have circulated for weeks, or waiting for receipts proving or disproving that I’m a mean girl who spends my time talking shit, here you go. I am so beyond hurt, I don’t even know what to say. I’m floored, I’m so disappointed in this community and I’m so sad. In the last two weeks, I stayed up until 4am one night receiving screenshots of posts and anons about me, I cried, I tried to understand why this has happened to me, and I have sat here day after day with no answers. 
If you think I’m being melodramatic, try losing a quarter of your mutuals and having a bunch of people block you when you’ve had either no interaction with them or they’ve all been positive, and see how that feels, on top of constant rumors about you being a terrible person when you know you’ve barely had any negative interactions with anyone on the platform. I can’t be on tumblr any longer without exonerating myself and putting it out there that all of this has been one gigantic mess based on lies about me, seemingly compounded by grievances people have against Gracie (some one whose personal conversations have nothing to do with me). Either I do this, or I log out forever and only post on ao3, cause I feel like the fucking grim reaper here. Posts about me being an awful person are still circulating, despite the original post being deleted and the follow up stating that the OP has talked to me and they have apologized.
I’m not naming names in this. I will be using person A/B/C/D to make it less confusing. I’ve removed identifying information from the screenshots because even though I’m hurt by these people, I know that they will get dogpiled and harassed if I identify them, and I want it all to stop. Several have apologized to me and I have accepted. 
Sometime in December, rumors started circulating that there was a “big/elite writers discord” where they talked shit about small writers (I’m not in any discords specifically for writers and I have never heard of such a server). At about the same time, person A - someone who was very active in my own, now-deleted discord server, started frequently vagueposting about me, calling me a mean girl and, intentionally or not, made it seem like I was part of this “elite group of writers”. This is someone who I have never had a negative interaction with and who seemingly out of nowhere decided that I call myself elite and I’m a terrible person. 
Person B had some grievances with myself, Iris, and Gracie it seemed, so they went to person C and accused us of talking shit in our voice chats. I assume person A and B have talked about me at some point and validated each other’s claims, but I can't know that for sure. Person B messaged me from a burner account and apologized, then seemingly deleted the account after I responded.
Gracie frequently posted about us three chatting, and although I understand this might have felt alienating to some, many writers are open about having group chats with each other. All we did was write, edit, and Gracie sometimes made memes. We talked about non-fic stuff often, and when Gracie had an issue with other writers and she was upset, we talked about it. That’s what friends do. She knows that I believe those situations were handled poorly. One of those situations came to light recently - I had a very pleasant conversation with the writer involved, and we are still in touch.
I have spoken to person C, who posted the most “popular” smear post about me and some of my friends. They retracted their statements and profusely apologized to us, admitting it was based on stuff they heard from person B, showing me screenshots of the conversation. However, their original posts are still circulating through reblogs despite being deleted from their account. 
Person D also posted about me and my friends, however their post was sort of ridiculous, accusing me of spending more time replying to anons than writing. I found this funny, but the way they slut shamed my friend was absolutely not humorous, and dragging a random writer in to criticize them was a strange attempt at adding fuel to the fire. 
-
And for the receipts, 
I blocked person A after seeing a handful of vague posts clearly about me, and after they interacted with every single rude anon posted about me that I saw. I think that’s reasonable, no? I’m not gonna post screenshots of their posts cause I honestly just don’t want to look at them again, they make me feel kind of sick if I'm honest, but if anyone doesn’t believe me, they are welcome to DM me and I will send. 
Person B messaged me, admitted to partaking in this mess, and apologized. This is part of a LONG message:
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Person C apologized over message and called me on discord. We had a conversation clearing things up, they deleted their posts and wrote a public apology. 
If you need any proof that person B’s claims were, in fact, baseless, look at this exchange between person B and person C after person C had cleared things up with me.
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Person D honestly just creeps me out, cause what the fuck is this? Fine if you don’t like me based on my writing or my persona on here but… Why the witch hunt? 
ETA: Person C asked person D to take down their post and they never responded. This was sent prior to that, I know the full context, I just thought this specific part was worth sharing to show how vile some people allow themselves to be behind burner accounts.
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What kind of behavior is this? This was from a sideblog, and I don't know what their main account is. It creeps me the fuck out knowing this person is lurking somewhere in the community.
I have hated every moment of this. None of this has been fun for me. This has completely fucked up my motivation to write and my enjoyment of it, it has made me anxious, it has messed with my self esteem, and it has made me want to log out of Tumblr and not come back. 
Please, I beg, if you have an issue with me, just come to me and I promise I will have a conversation with you. You can’t tell people’s tone over anon and I don’t think that’s a good way to have a conversation, especially one about something that should be solved in private, so they remain off, but my DM’s are open. 
I'm so sick of seeing vagueposts and trying to decipher if they're about me. Having to do that a bunch of times messes with your head.
I'm not sure what to do moving forward, but I needed to say my piece. I don't want to talk about this again, I want to put this behind me. I seriously hope this doesn't wreck my last remaining want to share my writing on here.
Thanks again to everywhere who has supported me in my DMs and comments, you mean the world to me 🤍🤍🤍 And if you found yourself duped by all this but change your opinion on me now or eventually, I won't hold a grudge, and I'm happy to speak again and pick up where we left off.
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starlazergazer · 1 year
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Senators Shadow
Pairing: Anakin x Reader
Summary: Anakin is your regular Jedi guard whenever your job in the senate brings you to Coruscant which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t spend the entire time practically ignoring you making It clear he didn’t really want to be there. Until something changes on this trip and the two of you start to become close.
Warnings: Swearing, some jealous Anakin, scene where the readers being shot at from a crowd, that should be it
Word Count: 10K (may have gotten a bit carried away with this one but I hope its worth it!)
A/N: I’m a sucker for an enemies to lovers type thing plus a jealous Anakin moment so I wrote this to amuse myself (cause what’s the point of being a writer if you can’t write a fic for yourself once in a while?) Easily the longest one I’ve written so I hope you enjoy!!
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You never really liked having to be on Coruscant. Things moved too fast here, you were always rushing from one meeting to another, prepping for speeches, consulting others, it often felt like you never got a chance to breathe only making you long for the minute you could leave and go back home.
And the longer you had to stare into Anakin’s eyes, the more you felt that longing grow.
“I appreciate the concern Jedi Skywalker” you addressed the man before you formally, interlacing your fingers and setting them on your desk, pushing forth an air of professionalism and authority “but I do not need a jedi guard for the time that I’m here”
A hint of a smirk graced his lips at your words, however, nothing more than its ghost ever appeared, a twitch in the corners of his lips. Often you wondered if you simply read too much into his expressions. “and I’m afraid your excellency that both the senate and the jedi council disagree”
There was no denying that Anakin was incredibly good looking, even if you tried to ignore that as much as possible, this simple fact was enough to have the people within the capital constantly whispering about him. Beyond this, however, he also had the reputation of being devilishly charming. You never got the chance to know that side of Anakin.
Sometimes you see glimpses of that version of him, you certainly did when you first met him as he introduced himself with a boyish grin and a look that had your cheeks stained scarlet, but since that first encounter it has been nothing but this stoic, aloof jedi that was now before you. And some stupid part of you wondered if it had been something you said that first night that pushed him away.
“Alright this is, however, my person we are talking about” you argued back, fighting down your own annoyance at his persistence “I get final say in what happens to it and that includes whether or not I have someone guarding it”
His answer was quick and to the point, as it always was “that is not how this works”
And oh how you loathed his complete lack of emotion, here you were out on a limb trying to reason with him, trying to compromise, trying to get something, anything out of him and still he responded as if you were little more than a talking brick wall.
“Then tell me Jedi Skywalker” You tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm yourself down, unable to keep the bite completely out of your words “how does this work?”
He leaned back in his chair causally, crossing his ankle over his knee, exuding confidence as he stated simply “either you let me act as your guard or you don’t make the speech next week”
You raised an eyebrow back at him, your voice dropping to a dangerous level “excuse me?”
“the jedi council has it on good authority there is going to be an attempt on your life so the senate is not going to let you on the floor unless they have reason to believe you aren’t going to die upon it” he explained indifferently, as if you were the one being ridiculous here.
“Wouldn’t resources be better spent actually looking for the person threatening my life then?” you pointed out with a sigh, posture slumping over slightly as you spoke, resigning yourself to the shadow being forced upon you for the next week.
“Oh we do have people on that” he assured you “just not me”
“No you’re on guard duty” you rolled your eyes at him.
“I’m on guard duty” he echoed back and you tried to ignore how hollow the words came from him, it would seem he was as happy about this assignment as you were.
And you wished you had a biting remark back for that, not fully ready admit just why his words bothered you so much, but you didn’t, instead you were left staring at Anakin in the chair before you, him doing the same as a brief silence fell over the two of you before a knock at the door broke it, one of your aide’s, head popping through the doorway.
“I have Jace here to see you senator”
You felt the smile grown naturally on your face at the news, unaware that your best friend and quite possibly the only person who could make this week better was even on Coruscant.
“Thank you please send him in” you nodded at her, eyes flicking back down to Anakin’s form, smile slowly dropping from your face as your gaze met his small glare “are we done here jedi?”
“It would appear so” he nodded stiffly, pushing himself up to a standing position, his mouth open, ready to say something when a new voice cut him off.
“Y/N Y/L/N it has been far too long”
A giggle escaped past your lips as Jace slipped into the room with wide arms, you not hesitating to meet him halfway across the room, more than happy to be caught up in his bone crushing hug as a greeting.
“Jace how could you not tell me you were going to be here” you chastised him with a small hit of his arm once he set you down, the grin never once leaving your face, you weren’t sure you could admit to even him how badly you needed someone on your side this week.
“Thought I’d surprise you” he shrugged with a wink and you were so excited to see him you almost missed the other voice as it spoke up from across the room.
“Senator”
Your head whipped around to meet Anakin’s gaze, a raised brow silently asking your question for you.
“I’ll be outside the room”
You didn’t have time to give any response before he was ducking out the door, finally leaving you and Jace alone.
“You have a babysitter” Jace mused with a smirk on his lips as he made his way to the bar cart in the corner, making the two of you a drink without being asked as you slumped down into one of the chairs before your desk.
“I have a babysitter” you groaned. The words, now that they were in the open, cementing themselves in reality “and it just had to be Anakin fucking Skywalker”
Jace snorted as he brought the drinks over, wordlessly handing you one as he sat in the chair next to you “of course it’s Anakin Skywalker, it’s always Anakin”
You furrowed your brow at him, taking a sip of your drink “it is not always Anakin, last time I had Master Obi-wan”
“Because Anakin was on a mission in Crait for nearly a month at that time” Jace pointed out with a smirk making you frown.
“I’m sorry you just know Anakin’s schedule at all times?”
“I knew about it last time because like I said you always get Anakin as security” he chuckled shaking his head at you as if it were obvious.
“I do not” you insisted still, mind racing as you thought back to the last time you had been assigned a jedi that wasn’t Anakin “Just last year I had Master Kuno”
“mmmm when you made that speech denouncing the banking clan” Jace hummed softly as he thought “I believe Anakin was on medical leave then”
You shook your head at your friend, sipping your drink “you do acknowledge that it’s weird that you know that right? It’s important to me that you know that”
Jace chuckled at that shaking his head softly at you “and it’s weird that you’ve never noticed that Anakin, if he is available, is always your guard”
“Alright so the jedi order decided to assign their young padawan to guard the young senator” you thought as you talked, more or less making up your own rationalizations on the spot “pair the two people who are up and coming in their respective careers”
Jace didn’t even bother to refute that, sending you no more than an unimpressed expression with a raised brow. You realized with a sigh you already knew exactly where he was going with this as he opened his mouth to speak.
“no” you held up your finger, interrupting him “don’t even try”
“Y/N it’s obvious” he sighed nearly making you choke on your drink.
“Obvious? Really Jace, obvious?” you nearly laughed “I can’t even get the guy to talk to me for longer than like two minutes”
Jace just shrugged at that, as if it made no difference “He’s a jedi, they’re weird maybe he’s nervous or something”
At that you did laugh, not liking how bitter it sounded out in the open “you’ve seen how he talks to every other woman in the capitol he’s definitely not nervous”
At that Jace froze, a single eyebrow raising as he nearly gaped at you “I haven’t, but I’m very interested to learn that you’ve noticed this”
You groaned inwardly, feeling your cheeks heat up on the spot “that is not the point I’m trying to make”
“It’s the point now” Jace cut you off with a wicked grin “Y/N Y/L/N is there something you want to get off your chest”
“I will have him come in here and throw you out” you threatened, unable to keep the small smile off your face as you did so.
“Hey if you wanted time alone with him all you had to do was say so” Jace held his hands up defensively, smirking down at you.
You nearly threw your drink at him.
-
You would think after all of these trips to Coruscant you would learn to pack properly. That, however, would make things just too easy.
You were prepared for meeting rooms, for the senate floor, for your bedroom. You had professional clothing, comfy clothing, pajamas, you were prepared for anything within the capital building that could take place.
What you were not prepared for was a walk to Dex’s diner.
You were supposed to meet a senator at the diner, the man absolutely insisting on dinner while you were meeting, and you could never really say no to eating at Dex’s.
But you could see Anakin’s look of confusion at your outfit choice as you immerged from your room, the man giving you a simple raised brow but still you refused to give into the embarrassment of admitting to your mistake.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” there was no malice in his question but still you felt your cheeks burning at its asking, looking back down over yourself, pretending to not notice that the clothing was much too light for the cold weather outside.
“Yeah why? Is there something wrong with it?”
“Uh no you look” and Anakin paused here, his eyes scanning your form briefly in a way that had you squirming slightly on the spot, his eyes finally making their way back up to your own, Anakin’s voice much softer than before “you look good Y/N”
And if you had thought you had blushed hard before.... Your gaze was quickly thrown to your shoes, a desperate attempt to hide the blush as you mumbled out a thanks before clearing your throat awkwardly, nodding slightly to the door, Anakin nodding back and stepping aside, letting you exit first.
Keeping your head held high you whisked past him, only regretting your situation as soon as the crisp air hit your mostly bare arms.
Warm clothing, how could you forget any and all forms of warm clothing.
You tried to hide your slight shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself to conserve body heat, rubbing a hand up and down your bicep.
“Where’s your coat?” the voice beside you startled you, all too used to walking in complete silence with Anakin, to nearly tuning the man out completely.
“I forgot to pack it” you shrugged, almost wishing you had something more to say, something to keep the conversation going.
Instead the familiar silence fell back over the two of you as you walked, your mind already starting to tune the jedi out once again when you felt something being draped over your shoulders.
In surprise you froze, Anakin following suit as he came to a stop in front of you, hands still on the ends of his robe that now hung around your shoulders, holding it carefully around you. Slipping your arms into the sleeves you held them up to your eyes taking a moment to admire the simple brown robe, how surprisingly soft it was, the way it smelled like Anakin.
“Am I even allowed to wear this?”
“It’s just a robe” Anakin shrugged, already trying to push past the gesture “besides breaking a rule like that is worth you not freezing”
“but it’s a special jedi robe” you protested “am I going to get special jedi powers now?”
And god help you you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up at that, a laugh that came out as more of a cough following shortly that had your heart skipping a beat in your chest “that’s not how that works. Now come on” he tried to usher you forward but you stopped him.
“Hold on what about you” you asked “aren’t you cold”
And you weren’t sure if Anakin noticed the small smile that grew on his lips, didn’t notice or didn’t care, either way you were glad to finally see it “no I’m okay, let’s just-“ and he paused out of nowhere, smile slowly dropping from his lips as he looked up into the sky.
Furrowing your brows you started to do the same, pausing only as Anakin started to approach you, hands coming just beside your ears as he reached behind you, your breath catching in your throat at his closeness. Slowly, grabbing the hood on the cloak he pulled it forward, shrouding your head in it just as you started to notice the fat water droplets that began to stain the ground beneath your feet.
“keep your hair dry” he all but whispered, taking just a second longer before retracting his hands and taking a step back, turning on his heel and ushering you forward with a nod in that direction “come on let’s hurry”
And then he took off as if nothing had happened, as if that wasn’t the most emotion you had gotten out of him since you had met, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several seconds standing closer to you than was strictly necessary, as if your heart wasn’t hammering in your chest so hard you could feel it.
-
Too much of your mental space the rest of the day was spent trying to come up with ways to get Anakin to interact with you again. Like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch you felt this desire to talk to him again, to see that hint of a smile grace his lips, to see that small twinkle in his eye as he huffed and shook his head in amusement down at you. Something, anything that could clue you into what was going on inside of that jedi brain of his.
Beyond proposing a trip to the library, however, you had nothing.
A small nod was all you got for your efforts before he fell into place behind you, always a few feet back, hands held behind his back, head held high, not a single word uttered in your direction, a true return to form even after what had occurred earlier.
And a part of you scolded yourself for thinking it would ever be different, that you had let Jace’s words weasel their way under your skin like that, that you ever thought you’d be anything other than a job to him.
So wordlessly you led on, entering the library with him in tow, doing as you always did and completely ignoring your shadow’s existence for the time being, trying to turn your mind to the task at hand.
But why had that never been as hard before as it was now?
Taking a brief trip around the shelves, Anakin in tow close behind, it was a bit before you could find the exact copy you needed, of course on the top shelf well outside of your reach.
You took a tentative look back at Anakin to see his eyes wondering aimlessly around the library not even paying attention. And for a brief moment you debated asking him for help, he’d given his cloak so freely the other day, had yet to even ask for it back, you’d taken to the habit of wearing it around your rooms when cold. It had been a crack in the walls he erected between the two of you so long ago.
But it was just that, a crack. You’ve spent years at this point with whatever small amount of time spent in Anakin’s company more or less ignoring him, used to his curt nods and short answers, it wasn’t quite so simple to get over that.
With a small sigh you walked over to a nearby table and grabbed a chair, pushing it back in front of the shelf, giving it a small test with your hands before stepping one foot up.
Anakin was by your side in an instant, hands out before him, coming up to grab you but remaining just a bit too far away “What are you doing?”
“I need a book on the top shelf” you shrugged, pushing your weight onto the foot on the seat of the chair, Anakin shifting closer as you did so.
“Alright then I’ll get it” he urged, “this thing spins would you just get down”
“I’m already up here I’ll get it” you brushed him off, one hand on the back of the chair to steady yourself as you brought your other foot up, trying to react quickly with every small movement in the base of the chair as it swiveled slightly.
“Senator-“ Anakin tried again, practically begging you to get down.
“I’m like two feet in the air I’ll be fine” your hand left the back of the chair and immediately the thing pivoted slightly beneath you, your legs reacting by crouching slightly so you could keep your balance.
“Y/N” and you felt him grab you by the forearm, a shock surging through your arm at his sudden touch, effectively freezing you in place, your eyes coming back to connect with his for the first time, noting the concern they carried. His other hand reached out, a book flying off the top shelf and coming right into his palm, Anakin not even breaking eye contact as he did it “Look I’ve got it would you please get down”
And for a second it was like you had forgotten how to breathe, you can’t even remember the last time he had looked into your eyes so intently let alone touch you, the simple act had left you absolutely breathless with gorgeous blue eyes bouncing back and forth between your own and for the first time you felt what it was like to truly be the sole object of Anakin’s attention. You could feel yourself practically shrink within it, your knees aching slightly though you were quick to blame that on your attempt to balance on the chair.
“Uh-yeah” you hadn’t realized how long you had remained still and silent beneath his gaze until you broke its spell, forcing your gaze from his down to your shoes, using his hand as an anchor as you carefully stepped down, not missing the sharp hiss of air that left Anakin the minute you had both feet on the ground.
“here” he sighed almost in relief, holding the book out to you, you carefully taking it from his hands as he moved quickly to push the chair back to the table you had stolen it from.
Looking down at the cover you couldn’t help but chuckle slightly, casting your eyes back up to Anakin only to see him already looking at you, a faint smile pulling up at his lips “what?”
“I actually need the one next to this one” you bit the inside of your cheek to contain your own smile as he sighed dramatically, looking back up at the self before easily picking the one you needed off of the top.
“Thank you” you traded books with him, just barely catching the slightly wider smile on his lips as he placed the first back on the shelf. And you decided that you liked that smile, liked being its cause.
Wordlessly he ushered you towards the exit with an extended arm, you nodding sheepishly at him before walking out the doors, Anakin’s footsteps as usual following close behind but this time, to your surprise, he sped up once you got to the hallway, falling into step beside you as opposed to behind.
“So what do you need the book for?” The question startled you, your head whipping around to him on instinct though you tried desperately to restrain your surprise, worried expressing too much of it would scare him off.
“Oh-he’s just one of my favorite writers” you tried to keep your tone as casual as possible, only making you worry it sounded forced, you didn’t like how easily you came to second guessing your every move in the jedi’s presence “I’m hoping I could use some of his style to influence my speech, make it sound a little better”
His brow furrowed at that, his gaze never leaving yours as he spoke “why? I like your style”
You nearly stopped walking, quick blinks coming as you tried to wrap your head around his words, the question slipping out of you before you could think better “you’ve seen me speak before?”
“When I’m free” he shrugged as if it were a given, as if there was nothing better for a jedi to do than listen to a junior senator give a speech.
And for the first time you started to wonder if Jace was right, if there was a reason Anakin always ended up as your guard, if there was more to this tough, distant demeanor than you had previously thought.
“Do you want a drink?” You regretted the offer as soon as it left your lips, easily catching the hesitation on Anakin’s face the minute you asked “I just mean I’m going to be up for a little longer and since you’re stuck keeping me company it’s the least I could do” and he seemed to relax slightly at that only making you tack on more “plus as a thank you for grabbing the book for me”
And there was that small smile again, his features lighting up ever so slightly as it graced his lips, your own mirroring it of their own volition.
“Yeah I’d like that”
-
“You did not!” You exclaimed with a loud laugh, hand coming out instinctively to slap his chest as he grinned back at you, smile hid behind his glass as he raised it up.
“I had no other choice” he defended weakly in a voice that told you he had many.
“That make for three ships you’ve crashed in this story alone” you shook your head with a chuckle “you know someone has to pay for those, namely the people of the republic”
“A small price to pay for peace” he shrugged with a lazy grin, taking a sip of his drink.
“Have you tried this thing, I think they call it landing?” You teased earning a chuckle from the jedi, the sound making your cheeks ache as you tried to contain your grin.
“I’m sorry senator how many ships have you ever flown and landed successfully?” he taunted with a raised brow.
And you could blame it on the alcohol, could blame it on the sleep deprivation, could blame it on the cozy atmosphere in the room. But really it was just Anakin that had you pulling out childhood stories, the way he put you at ease, the strange familiar air of a man who’s spent the last several years practically ignoring you. In all honesty this was the most you had ever gotten from the man in terms of real conversation and you weren’t ready to let that go just yet.
“My father actually taught me to fly as a kid” you offered with a soft smile, watching Anakin’s brows shoot up ever so slightly.
“Really?” he prompted simply, leaving the door open for you to continue if you so choose.
“Yeah” you chuckled softly, casting your eyes down to your drink “he loved the freedom it gave him, the idea that he could go anywhere he wanted at the drop of a hat, could live amongst the stars. I think he wanted to instill that same feeling in me”
“and did he?” he asked with a sentimental smile and briefly you felt like he wasn’t just looking at you but rather watching you as you told your story, something you took a strange comfort in.
“He did” you nodded “he died a few years ago and I associate flying with him so much I feel like I’m working to fall in love with it all over again, just this time alone”
And at your words you watched his smile slowly melt off his face, his eyes casting downward into his own drink, and you prepared yourself for the inevitable. The sympathy, the condolences, the pity, instead Anakin surprised you with a story of his own.
“As a kid I was a pod racer, thought I was significantly better than I actually was ya know” he chuckled softly, eyes glancing up at yours for a brief moment before casting back down “but I knew my mother never really approved, thought it was too dangerous, but she always was my biggest supporter despite everything. I had to leave her years ago for the order and sometimes I wonder if I’m reckless now in some ridiculous bid to be closer to her”
“that’s not ridiculous” you shook your head, Anakin’s eyes coming back up to meet yours “it was a comfort to have your mother care for you in that way, only makes sense that when you miss her you seek that sense of comfort all over again”
And he chuckled softly at that, smiling to himself “I suppose you’re right”
And this time you could definitely blame it on the alcohol, or maybe the slight pink hue you thought you could see in his cheeks, but suddenly you felt yourself forcing your next words to the surface, a desperate need taking over you to have them out in the open. “I know we never really do this but I really like talking to you Anakin”
And for some reason the name felt weird on your mouth this time, felt weird being addressed to him rather than said behind his back, yet still you rather liked it.
A small smile grew on his lips as he looked back at you, eyes bouncing back and forth between your own before he spoke “I like talking to you too Y/N”
And you certainly liked the way your name sounded when he said it like that to you, soft and sweet, less a call to attention and more an affirmation.
His eyes darted to the clock and he sighed softly, leaning forward to set his glass on the edge of your desk “Come on its way past your bedtime”
You chuckled softly at that, shaking your head even as you knew he was right “I’m a senator I don’t have a bedtime”
He laughed back at that, taking your glass from you and setting it onto your desk next to his “and senators need 8 hours of sleep just like the rest of us”
“You expect me to believe you get a full 8 hours of sleep a night” you asked with a raised brow, watching in amusement as he shook his head softly from above you.
“Alright like the rest of us except for jedi knights”
Despite that ridiculous answer you relented, hands coming to the armrests of your chair ready to push yourself up when a hand suddenly entered your field of vision, Anakin’s hand offered simply to you. With a slightly furrowed brow you looked up at him as you took it, standing up with his small aide, coming to a position that had the two of you standing nearly chest to chest and instinctively you felt a small panic rise.
Instead his other hand came to the small of your back as he ushered you forward softly, hand slipping easily from your own as you walked forward out of your office, focused entirely too much on the feeling of his touch as it slowly slipped from your back, on the way he fell into step behind you as usual though this time mere inches away instead of feet.
Too quickly you reached the door to your room, spinning around to face him “this is me” you regretted the statement as soon as it left your mouth, wincing slightly at the sound of your own words which just had him laughing softly.
“Need me to clear it?” he asked in a low tone, his voice barely above a whisper as he inched closer “see if there’s a monster hiding under your bed”
“I think I’ll be okay” you chuckled softly back, scolding yourself for the way your gaze slipped down to his lips, the way your fingers twitched, eager to reach out.
The moment of silence stretched and still you felt yourself drifting closer, felt the friendly atmosphere give way to one of thick tension as the two of you stared back at one another, daring the other to give in and make the first move.
Instead Anakin stepped back, the smile slowly slipping from his lips though never entirely leaving “goodnight Y/N”
And with a sigh you couldn’t entirely contain you nodded softly, leaning against your doorway as you watched him walk back down the hall to his own room, “goodnight Anakin”
-
You dragged yourself from sleep with shallow quick breaths, bolting upright in place, eyes desperately scanning the room for anything that looked familiar.
But of course this was Coruscant and nothing really was.
This wasn’t the first time your sleep has plagued by nightmares, nor the first time you’ve woken up unsure of where you were, of what was going on, of where the threat was coming from.
And logically you knew where you were, in your room, safe, with a jedi guard just next door. So you tried to force yourself to take deep breaths, a hand on your chest as if you could physically push the air into you. And for the most part you had succeeded, your breath slowly but surely returning to normal.
But it didn’t rid you of the initial panic, of the overwhelming sense of dread, of the crushing loneliness of going through this in a room that wasn’t your own.
And for the first time your mind jumped to Anakin, afterall he was just next door.
This past day had been the closest you had ever felt to the jedi, approaching something that resembled friendship as he made an effort for the first time to actually talk to you. And based on that you really didn’t think he would mind, even if it was just him sitting in silence next to you, it was nice just having something there.
But still waking him would be welcoming him to a part of you you weren’t sure you were ready to show him yet. It was a level of vulnerability you weren’t ready to show him yet. Not to mention the man was a jedi, faced death on a near daily basis, was always putting himself in dangers way, what right did you have to go to him with nightmares?
Making up your mind you slipped silently out of your room and made your way to the front door, heading as you usually did to Jace’s apartment.
-
You tried to slip out of the room quietly, more than enough experience at this under your belt to know that you could probably force your way through the front door with a sledge hammer and Jace wouldn’t wake up but still wanting to take precautions nonetheless.
Up on your toes you snuck through the door, pressing the button on the other side to close it, waiting till it fully shut to relax, spinning around to begin the trek back to your rooms, when movement out of the corner of your eye caught you off guard. With a small gasp you stepped back from the mysterious object, nearly stumbling over your own feet, when you realized you recognized the mystery man lurking outside of the door.
“Anakin” you breathed out in relief, hand instinctually coming to your chest in an attempt to slow your racing heart “you scared me”
At first he didn’t say anything, stayed leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, his posture telling you that he couldn’t have been more at ease, but his expression... His jaw was set, clenched hard enough you could see the muscle tensing even from your position, his gaze hard and unflinching as it bore down into you, Anakin was pissed.
“Imagine how I felt when I woke to find your room empty” His tone was cold and biting, as if he were spitting the words at you rather than conversing.
“Alright maybe I should’ve left a note” you conceded “but I figured I’d be back in an hour or two tops, and it’s Jace’s place you’ve met him”
“A note” he scoffed back at you, pushing himself off the wall to come close to you, forcing you to crane your neck in order to make eye contact, refusing to give in and take a step back “What part of this do you not get?”
“What part of what?” you demanded, crossing your own arms over your chest “you found me quite easily what is the harm?”
“What is the-“ he chuckled bitterly as he echoed you under his breath, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he burst “you suck out on me!”
“for like an hour” you protested, rising your voice to match his, not caring at this point who heard you
“That doesn’t matter” he paused briefly between each word, putting emphasis on each as he glared at you “I was tasked with guarding you that means I go where you go, everywhere you go, that means you don’t sneak out on me especially not to just spend the night with some guy” he gestured almost in disgust back at Jace’s door “this isn’t some joke Y/N”
“And I’m not treating it like one” you countered, clenching your jaw as you fought back the urge to push him back “you’ve come with me to everything for the entire time you’ve been my guard, I haven’t left your side, I’m playing by your rules”
“this” he gestured vaguely in your direction, a bitter laugh in the back of his throat “this is not playing by my rules, this is disobeying my orders, and a fucking note is not the correct fix to this situation”
“So I should’ve what? Asked you to escort me to Jace’s room at three in the morning?”
You watched him clench his jaw at that, a harsh glare sent back at you as he silently loomed over you, neither of you saying anything for a few seconds, before a deep breath escaped him, his chest deflating slightly as he grabbed your elbow, pulling you down the hallway “let’s just go back Y/N”
But you weren’t giving up on this so easily, weren’t letting him get away with chastising you in the middle of the hallway like you were a child. You ripped your elbow from his grasp, slowing your pace “I can walk myself”
“Really you sure you won’t get lost?” he condescended with a raised brow, crossing his arms in front of his chest “won’t accidentally end up in some other guys room for ‘just an hour’, I think senator Passel’s in this hall I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about him”
You reacted without thinking, your hand coming up and slapping him across the cheek before you could fully process your action, though even after you couldn’t find yourself to regret it. And you knew that on some level Anakin had to have let it happen, it was nearly impossible to catch the Jedi by surprise. But the wide eyes he gave back to you could have had you fooled. You watched as his own hand came up to his cheek, touching the skin lightly, him mouth dropping open ever so slightly, his anger completely dissipating on the spot.
Yours, however, had yet to do so “You’re mad I disobeyed your ‘orders’ fine I can take that, but you do not get to treat me like this and you do not get to throw that kind of insinuation at me” you seethed back at him, hands clenched by your side so hard you could feel your nails digging into the palms.
“Y/N” and you name came out of his mouth on an exhale, a hand coming up to your elbow with a touch much softer than before, a plea in his eyes as he said it.
But you weren’t sure you could take any more of being in Anakin’s presence tonight. As you took a step back his hand fell easily from your arm and you tried to ignore the tingle on your skin it left in its place, tried to ignore the lump you could feel growing at the base of your throat, tried to ignore his silent plea for you to come back.
“Goodnight Jedi Skywalker” and before you could crumble you turned and walked back towards your rooms, hearing Anakin’s reluctant footsteps fall into place a few feet behind you.
-
You felt strangely energized the next morning at breakfast, shoveling food into your mouth as you jotted down notes and took pleasure in the fact that Anakin had yet to wake. Perhaps Jedi did need a full 8 hours of sleep. Senators, it would turn out, can survive on a fraction of that in combination with pure spite.
Your eyes barely glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps that halted a few feet in front of your desk, taking no more than a second to note Anakin’s form as he stood before you.
“Y/N” your name came out of his mouth almost hesitantly, still you refused to look up at him just yet, pretending most of your attention was still captured by the document before you.
“Jedi Skywalker”
You heard a small sigh escape him, a hollow chuckle filling the air “back to titles huh”
“what can I do for you jedi?” you asked, interlacing your fingers and setting them before you, pushing your posture straighter as you looked up at him in front of your desk, not letting a single emotion betray you with your expression.
Another sigh and he held up a piece of paper before you “we’ve received our first official death threat against you” and though you knew it had to be coming a part of you expected to be more shook by the news, expected to be more scared, all you felt at this point, however, was tired. Tired of being on Coruscant, tired of your job, tired of dealing with every consequence that came from these threats.
“Ok” You could see Anakin’s expression melt a little at your simple reply, could see the pity and guilt plain on his face, you wanted neither “anything else?”
Anakin nodded slowly, placing the piece of paper on your desk, taking care to step back from you after he had done so “because of it we’re more or less going into lockdown, the only people permitted access to this room are the one’s on this list provided by your security team”
You scoffed slightly as your eyes scanned the list, noticing immediately that one name was missing “Jace isn’t on here”
Anakin’s tone dropped slightly, his hand going into a fist at his side as he repeated “the only people permitted access to this room are the one’s on this list”
You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping as you threw the paper down onto your desk “you want me confined to my room fine, restrict who I have access to fine, one of those people will, however, be Jace, not only because he is my friend and I trust him but because he is instrumental to getting the work I need done”
And you could see him clench his jaw from across your desk, an angry hand running through his hair before he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes breaking from yours down to the paper before he sighed “fine”
And that put you off guard, if there was one thing you had learned about Anakin throughout your limited interaction it was that the man didn’t back down easily. Giving him a small nod you all but whispered a thank you, casting your eyes back down to your document, a silent dismissal.
The paper was wordlessly picked up from your desk before he started to leave, a new voice filling the silence left in his wake.
“Y/N I just heard-“ Jace’s voice was cut off suddenly, your eyes coming up from the document to see him in the doorway, held in place with a simple hand on his chest by Anakin, the jedi’s other hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber as he glared down the man.
“he’s fine” you called out simply, eyes casting back down to the document without a second thought.
But you didn’t hear any change, Jace hadn’t started talking again, there had been no footsteps as he entered the room. Looking back up you saw the two men in the exact same position, glaring daggers into one another, each daring the other to make the first move.
“Jedi Skywalker he’s okay to come in” you instructed Anakin again, watching as the grip on his saber only tightened if anything.
“Anakin”
His gaze snapped to yours at the sound of his name, his expression softening ever so slightly as it did, his grip dropping from the saber.
“he’s okay”
And reluctantly he nodded, hand dropping from Jace’s chest as he righted himself, before his gaze snaped back to Jace, his next words coming out almost as a threat as he spoke them more to your friend than you “I’ll be just outside the door”
-
You’d be lying if you said you had forgotten about the other night, in fact you had done just about everything you could to do so, but despite your best efforts his insinuation still rang loudly in your head, his angry gaze as he spit the words at you still living in your minds eye, the fury that sparked in your chest then had yet to dwindle with time.
You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t really matter, so what if you were seeing Jace like that you were both single there would be no harm done. But another part of you hated the idea of Anakin thinking that, the same stupid, selfish, naive part of you that clung onto his every word and laugh that night.
But you had a job to do, a job that had pulled you halfway across a galaxy away from home to try and convince a small group of relevant senators that your position was correct and morally righteous which would be no small feat. That was exactly why you couldn’t have your attention pulled away from the matter at hand by some guy, least of all some guy as emotionally stunted as Anakin Skywalker.
“Y/N” you ignored the small plea from that very man, pointedly keeping your gaze on your notes as you paced back and forth from behind the stage.
Anakin sighed softly, an anxious hand running through his hair before he tried again “Y/N please I’m sorry I didn’t-“
“No” you cut him off simply, refusing to give him your attention, your anger, your anything. You had a job to do and he was being an active hinderance to that and you were not going to treat him as anything but that “I don’t want to hear it right now”
He nodded softly at that, gaze casting down to his shoes “yeah we can talk after your speech”
You scoffed at that, shaking your head before countering under your breath “or you can go back to ignoring me, I much preferred that”
Anakin furrowed his brow at that, taking a step closer to you “what do you-“
“Senator” one of your aides interrupted you with a smile, nodding her head towards the shut curtain before you “they’re ready for you”
“Thank you” you smiled back at her, squaring your shoulders and facing the curtain separating you from the stage, pointedly ignoring Anakin’s intense stare down at you.
Another soft sigh before he whispered “I’ll be off to the right side in case anything happens” and he was reaching for the curtain before you could respond, most likely knowing that you wouldn’t, holding it open for you to duck under slightly and be met by the bright lights and polite applause you were used to.
You smiled widely at the crowd as you walked up to the podium, setting your stack of notes on top of it and waving, giving them a practiced small nod and a polite “thank you senators”
Slowly the applause dwindled and you were faced with a silent room, milking the sound for just a moment before beginning “I want to thank you all for making time in your busy schedules-“ and you launched into the usual political fluff that began most speeches, stroking the senators egos before you got into the real meat of the issue.
You didn’t make it far, however, before you felt a sudden tug at your elbow, the force strong enough that you were pulled back from the microphone a few steps, a confused murmur making its way through the crowd before you.
Spinning around you followed the hand upon your elbow up to the jedi who owned it, only to see that he wasn’t staring down at you but rather up at the point where the walls met the ceiling, his eyes searching for something that was surely drowned out by the stage lights.
“What’s going on?” you asked him pulling your arm back into you, Anakin’s fingers not putting up a fight against it as he kept his gaze up, searching.
“we need to go” the words were spoken softly and with little weight only confusing you further.
“Anakin what-“ he cut you off before you could even get the question out, crashing his body into yours as he tackled you to the floor, arms wrapping around you to break your fall as he ducked the two of behind your podium. And you were ready to ask him again what was happening when you noticed it, a new burn mark on the wall just behind where your head had been moments ago.
It was only then that you realized the world had fallen silent on your ears, your mind tuning out the panicked yells and scraping of chairs as the people you had just been addressing scrambled for the exit.
Then there was a blaster sound.
The podium before you shook as it took the brunt of the shot, the furniture groaning telling you it wasn’t going to be able to take much more.
With wide eyes your gaze finally connected with Anakin’s to find his already on you, your name on his lips though you don’t remember hearing it.
“What?” You asked much too softly for the sound level in the room, a small look of relief still edging into Anakin’s eyes as he looked at you.
“There’s a door behind you to your left, I’ll cover you you make a break for it on the count of three” he instructed loudly but still calmly, the small panic in his eyes doing a fantastic job of never making its way to his voice. You nodded quickly at him, eyes darting over your shoulder to take a quick look at the door. His hand came up and squeezed your shoulder softly, pulling your gaze back to his “stay low okay. 1..2..3 go”
There wasn’t a moments hesitation before you broke for the door, no drop of doubt in Anakin’s promise to cover you before you left the safe haven of the podium, throwing yourself at the door to force it open and pushing it back closed behind Anakin the second he was through.
He never let up, however, not wasting any time before he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you off the door and down the hallway, you never fully being able to escape the panicked screams from that room.
“The others in there” you protested weakly, letting Anakin pull you further and further away from the room.
“Not important right now” he answered harshly, taking seemingly random turns down a labyrinth of hallways.
And your mind was spinning too much to protest any further, still struggling to bridge the gaps of the last few minutes and comprehend what had happened “did you see them?”
“No” Anakin grumbled “but I think the shot came from the vent system”
“So they could be anywhere by now”
Anakin didn’t respond to that, dragging you a few more feet forward before coming to an abrupt halt before a door you didn’t recognize, eyes checking both ways down the hall before throwing it open and ushering you inside, shutting the door behind the two of you.
It was jarring how silent it was within the room, the way the entire world seemed to suddenly stop spinning, finally giving you the chance to catch your breath, your mind reeling in such a way that made you wonder if you even really wanted the silence.
“Okay” Anakin spoke up, hand coming back to your shoulder, thumb hooked softly under your chin to physically pull your gaze to his as he hunched over slightly “you stay in here I’ll go-“
“What-“ the question came out before he could even finish his statement, your head shaking rapidly as you took a step back from him “you’re leaving me in here?”
“Just for a bit I need to track down-“
“No I can’t-” you interrupted him again, the same panic as before surging within you as you shook your head again, an anxious hand bunching up in your hair as you started to shift your weight from foot to foot “you can’t just- you can’t leave me here alone”
“Hey hey” and you could see his attempt to calm you down as he reached out, could see the fight behind his eyes between staying with you and finding the guy who shot at you, his hands resting on both of your shoulders halting your nervous movement “you’ll be safe in here but I need to track down-“
“Please” you interrupted him again, your single world making his argument die on his lips, his expression freezing slightly at the sound of it “Please Ani don’t leave me”
And you watched his chest deflate, a small nod before he answered “okay”
Before you could think better of it you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest. Again there was a moment of hesitation, a brief hiccup before his arms wrapped around you in response, and you heard him mumble against your hair “I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay”
And at that words you let a shaky breath out, feeling the weight on your chest decrease slightly at the promise, nodding softly against him before slowly letting go, untangling your arms from him “Thank you”
His eyes bounced back and forth between your own for a second before he nodded softly, taring his gaze from you as he stood up straighter, taking a good look around the room “We’ll just wait here for a bit, the rest of the order is going to be working on tracking the shooter down”
You nodded back at him again, taking a few steps aside to rest against the wall, finally fully feeling yourself relax as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you.
“I really am sorry for what I said the other night” the sudden voice breaking the silence caught you by surprise, your brows furrowing as you looked up at him “I was angry and I took it out unfairly on you and for that I’m sorry”
“Is now really the time to be doing this?” you asked with an edge of frustration to your voice, trying to hide it behind a soft laugh.
“You’ve been refusing to talk to me, now’s the first time I’ve really had your attention” he shrugged as if it were the obvious conclusion.
“yeah well try dealing with that for about three years then you’re allowed to complain about feeling ignored to me” you grumbled crossing your arms over your chest, unsure if you had really wanted him to hear those words or not.
His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, genuine curiosity on his voice as he asked “what does that mean?”
And a part of you wanted to scoff, as if he hadn’t noticed how he’d treated you for the entirety of knowing him “This trip is the most I’ve ever talked to you” you huffed, pointedly avoiding eye contact with him “When I first met you you were nice and talkative and normal, and all of a sudden the next time I’m around you’re nothing but cold and distant, could get barely more than two words out of you at a time. Made me wonder what I had done wrong”
You heard his deep sigh at your words, eyes glancing up at his form to see his gaze planted on his shoes, a soft reply coming in a voice you almost couldn’t hear “you didn’t do anything wrong”
Another silence passed between the two of you before you broke it, unsure exactly why you felt the need to justify yourself to him “I get nightmares sometimes, nothing too bad but sometimes it’s like I forget where I am and I can’t breathe and I just need someone there to anchor me, to remind me that I’m okay. Jace has been that person for me a lot so when I woke up I sought him out, I really didn’t think about how I was sneaking out behind your back”
Another sigh came from across the room before you heard a back sliding against the wall, eyes casting up to see Anakin had moved to sitting on the ground, back resting against the wall, eyes planted somewhere across the room before he laughed almost hollowly “I’m an idiot aren’t I”
And you couldn’t help but chuckle at that, moving to sit down next to him, careful to keep a good amount of distance between the two of you as you did so “I mean I certainly won’t argue with you on that point”
And this time his chuckle was realer, a warm sound you felt yourself despite everything drawn into “you know you could’ve come to me”
“If the roles were reversed” you asked him with a soft, sad smile “would you have come to me?”
And he sighed at that, gaze breaking to study your face for a moment, before he shook his head “no I suppose I wouldn’t have”
Another silence fell between the two of you, this one considerably less uncomfortable than the ones before, and for a brief moment you wondered where exactly this left you and Anakin, certainly closer than before but friends? Is that what you wanted? Is just that what you could be okay with?
“The jedi have a code” Anakin’s voice pulled your attention smoothly back to him, finding him a few inches closer than before, you weren’t sure who it was that had shifted “we can’t form attachments”
And you found yourself focusing on how hard the words seemed to be for him to say, how he was practically pulling them out of himself, you eagerly latching onto each one, nodding softly.
“So when I met you and you were incredibly nice and funny and easy to talk to…” he let the end of his sentence hang in the air, let the implication remain unsaid “Obi-wan noticed it before I did, was over my shoulder reminding me of the code right away and I figured if I remained distant then I wouldn’t be tempted to break it”
You felt the air leave your chest realizing that hearing it form Jace was one thing but from Anakin himself was completely different, the last few years spent around him clicking into place in your mind and you felt the need to reach out to him, if not to just hold his hand in yours. “Then why are you my guard every time I need one on Coruscant” you asked instead, forcing the distance back, giving Anakin what he wanted, what he said he wanted “Wouldn’t it have been better to avoid me entirely?”
A bitter laugh came forth at that, Anakin throwing his head back against the wall as he stared up at the ceiling “yeah, yeah it would have.” He paused briefly, a small smile pulling up at the edges of his lips “do you know how excited I get every time I hear you’re going to be on Coruscant? I tell myself every time that I just want to make sure you’re safe, that I want to be able to see for myself that no harm comes to you, but I know they’re all just excuses. Because even if it’s in complete silence I relish every moment spent in your presence”
And a huge part of you felt relief at his words. Relief that your feelings were reciprocated, relief that he didn’t actually hate you as you suspected, relief that it was all finally out in the open. But still there was a new weight on your chest, the burden of the jedi code no longer resting on Anakin’s shoulder’s alone, a burden that as not a jedi it felt unfair for you to carry.
“Where does that leave us now?” you asked quietly, eyes bouncing back and forth between his hopefully.
“The jedi order have their faults” he started after a bit, gaze skipping around the room, everywhere but meeting yours “there’s a few things I just don’t agree with them on and one of them is that having attachments makes me a worse jedi, I’m starting to wonder if remaining at a distance from you is really worth it, after this past week I’m not sure I can do it anymore”
“what if I don’t want you to remain at a distance?” you asked softly, watching almost with amusement as Anakin’s gaze rushed to meet your own, his eyes searching yours with hope for sincerity.
Finally his lips turned up at your words, he gaze flicking down to your lips for a moment, inching himself closer still till your shoulder grazed his “Darling if that’s the case then I shall live to make you regret asking me to stay close”
823 notes · View notes
seeingivy · 9 months
Text
the met gala
actor!eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting series
content: the end contains some possibly triggering content. toxic man moment/unsafe situation so dni and protect ur peace if you need to.
an: fan service to the highest t. you want laufey? i'l give you laufey. you want sukuna? ill give you sukuna. did you ask for catoru gojo? no but i'll give it to you anyways. and the end is a nice yummy lil eren little fdklsfjdksljfkdlsjfkdsjk. also I changed real life met gala lore idgaf if they don't do real perfomances there bc they do now
songs mentioned: death of a bachelor by panic at the disco, seven by taylor swift, promise by laufey, and dorothea by taylor swift
previous part linked here
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Eren waits for it in nervous anticipation. Because despite everything Hyla and Lana say, he knows for a fact that you won’t be staying silent. That Danny and Sareen wouldn’t let this slide and neither would you. 
And it eats at him while he waits for the real response, beyond that video Connie posted of you, Mikasa, Connie, and Jean dancing to Girlfriend and your tweets about how much you loved the song. 
He’s positive that a forty second video can’t be all you’re doing. People loved it and thought it was funny. But surely that can’t be it. 
“I can’t believe all your friends sided with her. I thought you were close with Connie.” Lana mentions. 
“I was. Before you did that.” Eren responds, clenching his jaw. He can feel anger surging through his blood, every minuscule fraction of frustration building even more - like it had been for the past three days since the awards show. 
It's irritating how quick things crumble down. He figures this is what Sukuna was talking about. Because the last time he talked to Connie was when Mikasa called him and it was nothing short of irritating. 
Eren’s phone rings in the middle of the night and he’s nearly scrambling out of his bed because he thinks it’s you. Nine hours after the awards show and you’ve finally gotten the chance to respond.
Except he sees Mikasa’s name flashing across the screen, accompanied with her contact picture which is you and Mikasa sleeping.
“Mika? What’s wrong?” 
“What the fuck is wrong with you Eren?” 
“Mikasa. Okay, I can ex-” 
“You can explain? You can explain why you just humiliated Y/N in public? Are you serious?” 
“I-I know it’s bad and she hasn’t picked up my calls and-” 
“Eren. Is there something wrong with you? Because I don’t even recognize you right now. You would never do something like this, let alone to her of all people.” 
“Did you just call me to yell at me Mikasa? You don’t think I feel bad enough about it already? You don’t think I would have stopped it if I had any idea it was going to happen?” 
He hears the line get quieter and Mikasa murmuring over the phone, only to be met with Connie talking to him now. 
“Hi Eren. It’s Connie.” 
Eren sighs, the fact that Mikasa’s so put off she won’t even talk to him sitting wrong with him all together. 
“Hi Con.” 
“You okay, man?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, is she okay?” 
“Mika? You know her, she gets mad so fast and-” 
“Not her.” Eren whispers. 
“Oh. No, no that’s why we called. She won’t talk to any of us. We called to see if you would know what to do because we’re coming short on ideas.” 
The words die on Eren’s tongue. The first line of defense when you get like this is always him, because he can always get you to talk. 
Could always get you to talk. 
“You tried Levi?” 
“Yes.” 
“Her brothers. You need to fly Falco and Colt out now. I’ll pay for the tickets. Get the shin ramen from the store, it’s her comfort food - put half of the spice packet in because she can’t eat it too spicy, make sure you boil the egg for six minutes because she likes it when it’s still a little runny, and chop ONLY carrots and green onions for the vegetables. And put on Spy Family, it’s her favorite show. Her favorite episode is nine, I think. It’s called Show Off How In Love You Are. ” 
“Okay, that’s all great man. Really. Thanks.” 
“Connie?” 
“Yeah?” 
The thought crosses his mind so fast and suddenly he's asking it.
“Do you hate me?” Eren asks, the whisper in his voice sounding so pitiful that he’s almost embarrassed. 
“No, Eren. I could never. Just, I have to be here because she needs us right now. You get that.” 
“No, no I do. Take care of her, please. Tell me how it goes.” 
“Yeah man. Sure.” 
Connie hangs up and the guilt eats at Eren. 
Eren hears the resounding pounding of footsteps - only to be met with Myka, Hyla, and two other people he’s literally never seen before - standing in his bedroom. 
The first thing he learned quickly about filming with these people? They have no concept of personal space or time. 
“What?” 
“Ricky and Y/N. They made a music video. Put it on.” Myka states, the group of them crawling onto Eren’s bed as he starts pulling up the video. 
The thumbnail already has him sick to his stomach. It’s you kissing Ricky’s cheek. The video starts with you and Ricky’s hands, playing the piano together, and it takes Eren all but three seconds to realize that this is the horrible, gut-wrenching response he was waiting for. 
His first cue? Not only are the two of you playing the piano together, but you and Ricky are wearing matching, beaded bracelets with each other’s names on them. Like the ones you and Eren have, the one he keeps on him at all times. 
The camera pans up to the two of you and Ricky starts singing, which earns him a nice list of profanities from Lana at his side. 
Do I look lonely? I see the shadows on my face People have told me I don't look the same Maybe I lost weight I'm playing hooky with the best of the best Put my heart on my chest so that you can see it, too I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall The lace in your dress tangles my neck, how do I live?
His second cue? The dress you’re wearing in the video, the one with the lace, is one he knows all too well. 
“Okay so, Eren. I have to find a dress to wear for the album premiere tomorrow. And it's my first album and it's special and I want it to be perfect. Something kind of soft and casual, since it’s just going to be just fans. Can you help me pick?” 
Eren nods as he flops back onto the soft plush of your bed, eyes focused on all the little pictures and knick knacks littered over the walls of your childhood bedroom. Participation awards for sports, signed letters from your teachers, and pictures of you and Colt doing karaoke. 
“Ew, Eren. Don’t look at those.” 
“What do you mean? You were such a cute baby.” 
Eren hopes your kids don’t inherit your messy hair genes as you walk up to his side and look at the picture - of you and Colt with little pink microphones in your hand and the little plastic crown on your head. 
“You know, you still do that.” 
“Do what?” 
“Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture.” 
You roll your eyes as you gesture to the dress, asking for his opinion. Eren stands up, grabbing you by the wrist, to spin you around in the air. And he loves the sound of your laugh and how you berate him immediately after. 
“Eren. Be serious. What do you think?” 
“Perfect. Wear this one.” 
“But it’s black - it doesn’t really fit the vibe that I wanted to go with.” 
“Good point. No one should see you in this but me. Try another one on.” Eren states, placing a kiss on your neck before walking over to your bookshelf. 
"You're no help." you whine.
"I'm biased. You look good in everything, sweetheart."
He’s running his hands against the spines of your books, clearly bent and broken from reading them so much as you try on the next dress. 
“Love?” 
“Hm?” your voice comes out, all muffled from the sound of the closet door. 
“How many times have you read the Goblet of Fire? This spine is demolished.” 
He feels your limbs wrap around his neck and a kiss on his cheek as you lazily murmur into his skin. 
“Lots. Cedric Diggory was my first love.” 
“Oh? Really?” 
Eren turns around and makes it a point to pointedly glare at you, which you return with the sweetest, cheesiest of smiles as you tease him on. 
“Oh, of course. I’ve always had a thing for Hufflepuffs.” 
“Would you look at that? I’m a Hufflepuff too.” 
“No, you’re not. You’re a Ravenclaw, Eren.” 
“I was expecting you to say Slytherin.” 
“No, I feel like that’s a cop-out answer. You’re intelligent, creative, and clever. Ravenclaw.” 
Eren smiles as he brings his hands down to your wrists again, spinning you in the air again. He brings his hands up to your hair to tuck your hair behind your ears before responding. 
“Nope. Very pretty, but too formal for something small like this.” 
“I appreciate the honesty this time, mon chéri. I only have one more, so it better be the one.” 
Eren leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 
“What was that for?” 
“I love it when you speak French to me.” he whispers. 
Eren watches you roll your eyes as you disappear into your closet again. He settles into the seat at your desk, flipping through the song lyrics in your bound notebook.
And he doesn’t miss the polaroids you have taped into certain pages - the one of the two of you at the vow renewal on your invisible string page and one of him at the piano on the New Year’s Day page. 
“Okay, Eren. Good?” 
Eren turns around to find you shyly smiling at him, hands tucked behind your back. It’s a soft white dress, with a lace neckline. Eren thinks it makes you look like an angel. He makes it a point to stand up just so he can push you onto the bed behind you and lean right over you. 
“Eren.” 
He leans forward and starts peppering kisses all over your cheeks and your face, leaving longer lingering ones in your neck that leave you in a fit of nervous giggles and saying his name so softly it only sets him off more. 
“It should be illegal-” 
Kiss. 
“To look like this.” 
Kiss. 
“You’re doing this on purpose.” 
Kiss. 
“Doing what?” 
“Trying to drive me crazy, love.” 
“Am not, Eren. It’s just a dress.” 
“It’s never just a dress with you. Be serious, Y/N.” 
He watches your eyes go wide, a soft pink dusting your cheeks. Your hands are resting on his face and he swears they’re shaking, your arms trembling along with them. Eren brings his hand to your cheek, softly brushing across the skin once. 
“Hey. What is it?” he whispers. 
“You said my name.” 
“I say your name all the time.” 
“No, no. You always call me love or sweetheart.” 
“Do you like it when I say your name, Y/N?” 
He watches the blush spread across your cheeks again as you nod, the sweetest smile on your face. 
“I like how you say it. Y/N.” 
“I love your name. Though, it’s missing something.” 
He watches you frown, the confused look spreading across your face. 
“What’s that?” 
“My last name at the end.” he responds, pressing a kiss to your lips. 
“Ew, Eren. That was so corny.” 
He brings his hands down to the side of your dress, where the zipper lies and starts pulling down. He watches the shock spread on your face, immediately pulling back. 
“Are you crazy? Falco and Colt are still here even if my parents aren’t.” 
“Falco is sleeping over across the street. And Colt is definitely at a party and pretending not to be. Who takes limes and salt to a study session? He definitely needs those for the drinks, silly girl.” he responds, sliding the dress off your shoulders and burying his face in the crook of your neck, leaving lazy kisses all over your skin. 
“Eren.” 
“Hm?” 
“Chelseaiswatching.” you murmur. 
“Huh?” 
“Chelsea is watching.” you whisper.
“Who the fuck is Chelsea?” he asks, the panic laced in his voice. 
You point over his shoulder and he immediately rolls his eyes when he sees her, bringing his hands up to pinch your cheeks. 
“Are you being serious? You can’t kiss me back because your stuffed animal is watching?” 
“Eren. It’s weird, I’ve had her since I was a kid. And my dad bought her for me.” you whine. 
“And you think she’s going to narc on you?” 
“No. It’s the principle, Eren! Don’t do inappropriate things when kids or kid-like things are present.” 
Eren stands up, making it a point to pick up your stuffed animal and bury it in the back of your closet before he returns, hands on his hips. 
“Okay. Anything else? Do I need to put tape over your posters of Loid Forger doesn’t watch us doing it?” 
“Now that you say it, it’s actually-” 
“Too bad.” 
And well after being tangled in the sheets together, Eren pretends not to be offended when you pull on a hoodie and immediately get out of bed and reach for your notebook and your pen instead of cuddling with him after. 
You crawl back in the bed next to him, where he immediately rests his head in your lap and starts groaning. You reach forward to push the messy hair out of his face and make a mental note to cover up the purple skin on his neck later so Colt doesn’t hang you at the cross whenever he comes back. 
“Did I get you that inspired that you can’t hold me right now?” 
“Basically. You’re my muse, Eren.” 
“What’s the song called, Y/N?” 
“Dress.” 
“Clever. I wonder what it’s about.” he responds, pressing kisses along your thigh, consecutively going higher with each kiss. 
“Eren. Are you serious? It’s only been like ten minutes.” you respond, the nervous jittery feeling growing in your stomach. 
“It’s like vitamins. Can’t go without it.” 
“Do not refer to it as vitamins. And you can technically go without vitamins, if you’re like really healthy.” 
“Quit being a know-it-all. You know I meant like medicine.” 
“Eren.” you respond, a warning tone in your voice as you keep scribbling your lyrics out. 
“You get two minutes to finish what you’re writing and then I’m throwing that book out the window.” he responds, his breath on the inside of your legs tickling you. 
Eren knows you’re trying to drive him crazy and not in the way he likes. And it’s working. And Ricky’s all too agitating singing voice doesn’t make it any better. 
The death of a bachelor Oh oh Seems so fitting for Happily ever after (woo) How could I ask for more? A lifetime of laughter At the expense of the death of a bachelor
Eren watches you and Ricky dancing through the streets, while Ricky sings on and on about happily ever after, and he can’t help but slam the computer shut and all but push the group of them out of his room. And when he closes the door, all he can do is cry and hope they can’t hear him.
--
You peek out the window and count seven black cars and fourteen different people standing on the block, anxious faces craning up with shining black cameras in their hand. You feel a hand on your shoulder and know the ice cold hands can only be Ricky. 
“Hey.” 
“How many?” 
“Fourteen.” you groan, giving him a frown as you yank your shoulder out from under his hand and walk past him. 
You head to the vanity, where you’re going to place your last finishing touches on your outfit. Ricky’s quick to follow and lean into your space, with a smirk pressed on his face. 
“Ricky.” 
“Yes, babe?” 
“Ew. Do you need something? Or are you all up in my space for fun?” 
“For fun! You smell really good.” 
You make it a point to lightly shove him back, which you both laugh at as you clip on the sparkly necklace, making it a point to not move suddenly at all from this moment forward. 
It would be infinitely embarrassing if you ripped the first designer dress you wore. Especially when you have to return it later. 
Ricky swings his hand around you from the back and holds a cupcake in front of your face, a glimmering blue candle lit in the middle. You give him a questioning look in the mirror. 
“Baby’s first Met Gala!” 
You snort as you blow out the candle, taking it from his hands and pulling the wax out. 
“You’re welcome, by the way.” Ricky says. 
“For?” 
“The cupcake! And getting you invited to the Met Gala.” 
You smack his shoulder, giving him your angriest look, before you both laugh. 
“You’re a prick. I got invited all on my own.” 
“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” he responds, sarcastically. 
“What flavor is the cupcake?” 
“Chocolate.” 
“Eh. I like vanilla.” you respond, swiping the frosting off the top with your finger. But before you can lick it, Ricky reaches for it first and swipes it right off your finger. 
“I mean, I was going to eat that, Ricky.” 
“I only like the frosting of the cupcake.” 
“Well, I only like the frosting too. Especially when it’s not the flavor of cake I like.” 
You hand Ricky the rest of the cupcake and grab your purse as you head out. You press the button on the elevator and both slide in when it opens, the anticipation of the fourteen people waiting outside for you and the hundred more who will be at the event sitting on you. You must be making some weird face because Ricky catches on to it super fast. 
“Just relax. It’s just paparazzi, not flying to the moon.” 
“I know that. I just feel like I’m not entirely here at the moment. And they’re all going to ask me about Girlfriend and you and Eren and I just-” 
You still haven’t encountered the press after the entire thing, despite most of the tabloids writing things in your favor. Because rehashing the worst thing that’s ever happened for you in the two seconds the paparazzi talk to you and have it become a whole convoluted story is not something you’re ready for. 
After the entire thing went down, you retreated to your room for one day. One day. With full intentions to mope for the rest of your life, because you would never live this down. And because the entire ordeal was so overstimulating, so stressful that you need to rest.  
Until Danny and Sareen dragged you out by the legs and forced you to film a music video with Ricky. Then go to his debut of the song and the music video in Times Square. And then they granted you your beauty rest, but then that stupid voice in your head got the best of you and you couldn’t help but watch what everyone said about the entire thing after the event. 
People thought the entire Girlfriend thing was really tasteless. Because it was. Ricky did a bunch of interviews, where he just talked you up and how the entire thing was ridiculous in his opinion. They thought it was sweet of Ricky to come to your defense with Death of a Bachelor and that your official debut as a couple was one for the books. 
You’ll take a win where you can get one. 
Everyone sided with you, which was nice. Fans wise but also from your real friends. Connie, Marco, Mikasa, and Jean were at your side the entire time, which you appreciated. 
Connie was the one that convinced you that “you had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever” and filmed a video of you, Jean, Mikasa, and him dancing to Girlfriend and posted it. 
Which was your favorite part of the entire thing, not because of the song, but because they were there for you through the entire thing. That Connie could make something mortifying funny for you. A bad memory a good one. A true testament to his support. 
Unlike some people. People’s inquisitive eyes leave no stone untouched and now rumors of a fallout between you and Historia are flying around, when she’s the only one to not publicly come to your defense. And you get it, she doesn’t have to. What you don’t understand is why she won’t return any of your calls. 
Ricky reaches down and grabs your hand, locking his fingers in yours as he gives you a smile, bringing you back down from the thoughts. 
“I won’t leave you, okay? Danny and Sareen said I should handle all those questions anyways.” 
“And if Lana comes up to me?” 
“Spit in her face. She’s really annoying.” 
“And if Eren comes up to me?” 
“I’ll give you a big kiss.” 
“Ew. Don’t do that.” 
“I love it when you act disgusted by me.” 
You snicker as the elevator rings and the door swings open. You’re immediately flooded with a mound of flashing lights as Ricky grabs your hand and drags you through the crowd into the fresh air. And it only gets worse outside because not only are the cameras outside bigger, but the reporters are louder. 
Are you and Ricky official? 
Eren and Hyla are rumored to be dating. Do you have any comments on that, Y/N? 
Can you tell us anything about your upcoming record, Ribbons? 
Ricky ducks your head into the car first before sliding in himself, tapping on the seat ahead of him as the car speeds off. You let go of Ricky’s hand, wiping the sweat against your dress, immediately freezing when you remember you’re supposed to return it at the end of the night. 
“Now was that so bad?” Ricky asks, giving you a winning smile. 
“Literally, yes! I wasn’t expecting them to be in the lobby.” 
“Cmon, you nailed it. I was there, wasn’t I?” 
“Quit trying to flirt, Ricky. You suck at it.” you grumble, which he laughs at. 
The car comes to a screeching halt and you give Ricky a weary smile as he walks out first, making it a point to open the door for you on the other side. You wrap your arm around his as you both walk the carpet, giving glimmering smiles every time you walk a few paces. 
You make mental notes of those standing on the steps behind you and you catch sight of them. Eren and Hyla, in the center of the carpet. Eren’s lifting his hand to twirl her in the middle, with consecutive clicks from the cameras. And you can see Sukuna right behind them, pretending to gag with Maki and probably ruining all the picutres.
You smile, making it a point to sit with Sukuna later because he’s so wildly unserious that it’s probably the only thing you could tolerate on a day like this. And it would really piss off Eren.
Mikasa and Jean are smiling at you from behind the ropes, Mikasa giving you a sweet smile and mouthing that you look great. She points at a spot towards the left and you nod, signaling that you’ll meet her there after. 
Out of the periphery of your eye, you catch sight of it. The giant cat in the middle of the runway. You tap Ricky on the shoulder, pointing it out to him. 
“Oh god.” 
“At the Met Gala? That’s so unserious.” you respond. 
“Ten bucks it’s Gojo.” 
“That’s such a lame bet. I know for a fact that’s Gojo. He’s the only type of dumbass to show up to the Met Gala dressed up as a big white cat with blue eyes.” 
You both lean closer together, making a point to make sure the paparazzi are taking pictures of you two all close to each other. The head of the cat pops off and surely enough, a very excited Satoru Gojo is now running in circles around in the middle of the carpet. And blocking every girl standing on the side.
You don’t miss Geto standing ten paces behind with Shoko, the two of them very loudly declaring that they, in fact, do not know or associate with that man.
“You owe me ten bucks.” 
“I never agreed to that, Ricky.” 
Ricky leans forward and plants a warm kiss on your cheek, earning a nice symphony of cooing from the photographers on the other side. 
“Oh?” 
“We both got it right. So we both get a reward.” he responds, tapping his left cheek. 
You roll your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and consequently wipe your glittery lip gloss off his face after. You give the cameras a smile and wrap your arm around his again as you walk farther down the carpet towards the interviewers. 
“Y/N. You look gorgeous!” 
“Thank you! So do you.” 
“Is there anything you can tell us about your third upcoming album, Ribbons? What’s your favorite track on the album?” 
“Thank you for asking! I think Ribbons is a mix of a lot of feelings I’ve had lately - specifically good, warm, and positive feelings. I-I think that being negative is something that’s really easy to do, especially when you’re in my position, but I try to keep my music feeling like sunshine on a nice day, because who likes to focus on the bad when you can just be the good. My favorite track on the album is seven, a song that I’ll be performing inside later today with one of my best, best friends who I wrote it with.” 
“That’s sweet. Are any of these positive feelings a consequence of your new beau, Ricky James?” 
And right on cue, Ricky’s on your side, tilted eyes glimmering in the camera. 
“I know for a fact they are. She loves to write songs about me.” 
“That’s a bold statement coming from you, Ricky.” you respond. 
“I’m a bold guy.” Ricky responds, giving you a wink. 
“Speaking of writing songs, Y/N. How do you feel about songs being written about you? Songs like Girlfriend?” 
The reporter looks way too excited at this part now. You look at Ricky before answering, who gives you a subtle nod. The answer you practiced with Sareen and Danny. 
“I think it’s flattering.” 
“Really?” 
Ricky slides his hand around your waist and smiles, finishing off the rest of the answer for you. 
“Oh, it’s totally flattering. I mean, I’d be really intimidated if I was comparing myself to someone like Y/N here too. She’s quite literally at the top of her game, in every sense, and it’s easy to feel less than when you’re comparing yourself to a future triple threat. So we get the thought process behind it.” 
“Ricky.” 
“It’s true, Y/N. Personally, I think they should pick London Boy from her discography as the song selection. But that’s just me.” 
You smile at each other as you give the interviewer a polite nod, giving each other a thumbs up as you walk around the floor. You finally get to stop near Jean and Mikasa, who are very obviously already wine drunk, from the way their cheeks are tinted pink. 
“Wow, Jean. It hasn’t even been two hours yet.” you respond, placing your hand flat against his cheek to see how much his skin is burning. 
“I hate this type of shit.” Jean responds, grumbling. 
“Jean. How drunk are you? Don’t tell me you’re imagining cats walking around are you?” you ask, feigning concern. 
“Huh? That cat isn’t real?” 
“You’re actually seeing cats?!” Mikasa asks, catching on. 
“THERE’S A REAL CAT HERE, MIKA. LOOK.” Jean says, pointing at Satoru who is now lying face down on the red carpet. 
"Jean."
"Y/N. MIKASA. I'M SO SERIOUS I SWEAR THERE'S A REAL CAT. IT TALKED TO ME EARLIER. IT TOLD ME I SHOULD HAVE DRESSED UP AS A HORSE WITH IT."
“Oh, sweetheart. We should go inside, you’ve had too much. You always do this, Jean.” Mikasa says, shaking her head as she leads him in. Mikasa turns her head over her shoulder and gives you a wink, before she walks straight into the venue. 
Geto and Shoko come up to your side after they catch you staring at Gojo - who's now doing the worm in his cat suit on the floor - as they both give you polite hugs. The three of you stand against the wall to watch him take the spotlight away from anyone who was hoping to have it. 
“Can you believe you’re married to that guy?” you ask Geto. 
“Please don’t remind me. It pains me everyday.” 
“He wore the cathead to my house the first day he got it. I was hosting a vigil for one of my neighbors.” Shoko states, placing a cigarette between her teeth. 
You snort at the thought of Gojo, in his fully exuberant energy, trotting into a room of people mourning with the cat head on.
Megumi and Yuuta join the group of you as you now watch Yuuji - whose actually dressed in a nicely styled suit - have a dance off with Cat Gojo on the red carpet. 
You nudge Megumi in the side. 
“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?” 
“We’re breaking up.” Megumi responds, earning a laugh from the group. 
“I can’t tell what’s worse. The fact that they’re dance battling at the Met Gala or that Yuuji is horrendously losing to Gojo wearing a twelve pound cat-suit.” 
“Yuuji losing.” you all respond in unison. 
“I think Cat Gojo is going to haunt me in my dreams.” you respond. 
“Get this, Y/N. It’s not Cat Gojo. It’s Catoru.” Yuuta responds. 
“Don’t tell me he trademarked it already.” 
“He did.” they all respond in unison. 
"Geto. Shoko. When you burn that thing in the flames of hell, I want a video." you state.
"That's a promise, kid." Geto responds, with Shoko giving an affirmative nod.
You turn to your left to find Ricky standing at your side, with his arm wrapped around John. Historia’s ex-boyfriend. You give the group of them a polite nod as you walk away and join Ricky at your side. 
“Y/N. This is my friend, John. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.” 
“Hi. Y/N.” you respond, making every effort to emphasize the flatness in your voice. 
“John. Nice to meet you.” he responds, holding his hand out which you refuse to touch. 
“Play any chess games lately?” you ask, making a pointed reference to Historia’s song. 
He glares and you watch the smile on Ricky’s face drop. You give your best, sickly sweet smile as you wait for a response. 
“That’s right. You acted in Attack on Titan so you must be friends with Historia.” 
“Very good friends.” you respond. 
“Okay John, we’re going to go in. I’ll see you in a sec, yeah?” Ricky responds, hands increasingly hard on your biceps as he drags you a few paces away. 
“Ouch, Ricky. Get off.” 
He’s leaning close to you, whispering in your ear earlier like you two were when Satoru came in, except this is nowhere near as fun as last time. 
“What’s your problem?” 
“What’s yours? He’s not a good guy, Ricky.” 
“I’ve made every effort to be friends with your friends. You could and should be doing the same for me, Y/N.” 
“And I will. For your friends who aren’t groomers, Ricky.” 
Ricky glares at you before giving you a smile and pressing a kiss to your forehead with the paparazzi so close, before dragging you into the venue with him. You settle into your seat next to Ricky, craning your neck to see where the rest of your friends are sitting, all the way on the other side of the room. 
You turn to the girl sitting next to you and whisper in her ear. 
“Hi. I’m Y/N.” 
“I-I know who you are. I’m a big fan.” 
“I’m really sorry to ask you this then. But you see that guy right there, pink hair, those two little scars near his eyes. Could you go and switch seats with him? He’s sitting in between Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuta Okkotsu, so I can at least promise it’s a better seat than this one.” 
She looks over and gives you an affirmative nod. You squeeze her shoulder as you watch her stomp over, Sukuna turn back to give you a questioning look, before letting the girl take his seat and striding over to sit next to you with two cups in his hands. 
He sits on the chair to your left, making it a point to spread his legs as far as he can on his chair, and glare at Ricky as he sits down. 
“What do you want, doll?” 
“Nothing. I got bored.” 
He shrugs as he places the second cup in front of you, which you pick up. And then immediately spit back up, because it’s just straight vodka. 
“Shit. My bad, doll. That’s mine.” 
“You’re drinking straight vodka? No chaser?” you ask. 
“Imagine doing this shit sober. I’d drive myself half insane.” he murmurs. 
You switch the cups and drink yours again, pleasantly surprised by a warm, sweet latte. 
“Sukuna. How’d you know?” you ask. 
“Eren told me.” 
You look over at him, giving him your best glare. 
“As if you’d talk to Eren.” you snort, craning your neck to find him on his phone, next to Hyla’s who is fixing her hair. 
“We talk. It’s just not pleasant.” 
“Yeah. My preferred coffee order is just so horrible to talk about.” 
“You wouldn’t believe it. Poor guy mopes about you so much it even makes me depressed.” 
Ricky taps aggressively on your shoulder, leaning over into your space.
“I’m going to go sit with John.” Ricky states, angrily. 
“Okay?” you respond. 
“Okay? That’s it, Y/N?” 
“Do you need a formal, written invitation? Or does she need to hold your hand and walk you there so you don’t get lost?” Sukuna responds, glaring at him. 
Ricky gets irritated at Sukuna’s response and storms off, which just has Sukuna moving his chair so that you can both prop your legs up on it. You’re both switching off on sharing your drinks - mixing Sukuna’s alcohol with your latte and watching all the performances. 
“Are you performing?” Sukuna asks. 
“Yeah. With Marco, right before Eren.” 
“Real cute. Is it that same fluff shit you always write?” 
You smack him hard on the shoulder. 
“Asshole. That fluff shit is Multi-Platinum, dumbass.” 
“I get that. But I’m saying, you should write something more serious than that. Instead of penting up all that rage in your forehead, you should write it in a song. Quit letting real stupid girls call you stupid in songs.” 
“I can’t. My record doesn’t really like the idea of that.” you respond. 
“So? You’re the artist and it’s your music. Write whatever you want. Don’t be a chickenshit.” 
“It’s not that simple, Sukuna.” 
“No. It literally is. You’re just chicken.” 
“It’s not about chicken, Sukuna. My record was the one who took a chance on me and to some extent, I have to follow that. And they’ve made me Multi-Platinum so far so who am I to not listen to them?” 
“God. You’re pathetic.” 
“And you’re an asshole, Sukuna.” 
“Do you want to kiss now?” 
You reach forward to smack his face, which elicits a laugh from him. 
“You never change, do you Sukuna?” 
“Best thing about me, doll. You should learn to piss people off like I do. It’ll actually relieve some of that tension. And flirting is good for your health.” 
“We can’t all afford to be feather rustlers like you.” 
“You could. I’m sure people would eat it up - the whole sweet girl saying her mind type thing. I’ll give you lessons on how to talk your shit sometime instead of letting idiots like that do it for you.” 
He points over at Ricky, whose glaring bullets at the two of you. You give him a gesture, which he completely ignores as he turns over to whisper in John’s ear. 
“Out of all guys, you had to pick that one? When you tweeted that you were charged with murder, I thought you were being serious and got really excited for a second.” 
“Danny and Sareen picked him. That’s not my fault.” 
You feel a tap on your shoulder and see the usher, signaling that it’s time for you to perform. You nod and turn to Sukuna, who's already getting up from the chair. He presses a kiss to your cheek before you walk off to the other side where Marco’s waiting. 
--
Eren’s sitting towards the end of the bench, hands pressed under his legs, when he watches you take the stage with Marco, a glittering smile on your face.
And in your billowing, white dress, there’s only one thing Eren can focus on. The fish tattoo, right on display. He instinctively reaches for his own, hidden under the fabric of his clothes, and thinks about how your sweet, flowery smell was always overwhelming, even in a disgusting tattoo parlor. 
And when Eren catches sight of Marco at the piano, Eren knows you’re a temptress to everyone and not just him. Exhibit A? You convinced Marco to sing in public with you. 
“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N.” 
Everyone breaks into a loud applause and Eren thinks that the wolf-whistling in the corner is Mikasa, who he’s convinced is shit-faced by the way her cheeks are glowing pink. 
“Thank you. Um, can we just take a minute to give a second round of applause to my sunshine boy, Marco, here? He’s not a big singer and I’ve all but forced him to do this with me, so let’s all give him some love.” 
The crowd claps again and Eren knows for a fact that the wolf-whistling this time is Jean, who is actually plastered. 
“This song is off my new album, called Ribbons, and it’s called seven. The idea of this song kind of came up randomly. I told Marco that it was kind of sad that I don’t have any of the childhood friends I did when I was a kid anymore. And Marco just responded by saying, ‘what do you mean, we’ve been friends since we were seven?’ And long story short, I jumbled out a nice mess of lyrics with Marco and Armin produced it after that and the song was finished. We hope you like it!” 
Marco starts playing a soft piano tune, accompanied by your light strumming on the guitar, and some part of it is so familiar, so you that it makes Eren’s heart ache. Not that Eren’s a big hater of your new, more pop songs like London Boy, but Eren’s always enjoyed your soulful, soft songs like this more.
They remind him of the soft parts of him that you only shared with him, when you used to be next him when he slept at night. 
Y/N:  Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?
Eren fights the urge to snort. Of course, there’s still beautiful things. You’re standing right there.
And Eren knows he’s way too sensitive for this because hearing your soft, echoing voice when he’s about to sing a song about the last time he kissed you has him pushing his face into the table. Because there are tears in his eyes. 
Y/N:  Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you
Marco:  Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
When you both finish, Eren watches you give Marco a big hug and a kiss on the cheek as you both walk off together. And then Eren’s trailing up to the stage where Historia’s waiting, the orchestral suite setting up their instruments and he feels his hands shaking at his sides. Historia gives him a smile, which he appreciates as he takes the front stand.
He hates it up here. He knows that flowery scent in the air is you. He manifested it by thinking about it and now it's suffocating him.
You lean against the wall with Marco, hands linked together, as you watch Eren readjust the microphone to his height and Historia sit at the piano. You make a fleeting second of eye contact with her and give her a smile, which she halfheartedly returns.
Eren’s hair is shorter, he’s cut it from the last time you’ve seen him. And he looks kind of tired, though you’re sure you look no better. 
“My name is Eren Jaeger. This is my new song, Promise, that I co-composed and wrote with my friend, Historia.”
You lean your head against Marco’s shoulder, who is giving you a warm squeeze on the shoulder, as you listen. 
I made a promise To distance myself Took a flight, through aurora skies Honestly, I didn't think about How we didn't say goodbye Just see you very soon
You pinch your eyes shut as you feel the breath constrict in your throat and tears warm in your eyes. 
“You okay?” 
“It’s Eren. Of course, I’m not okay.” you whisper. 
No matter how long I resist temptation  I always lose  It hurts to be something  It’s worse to be nothing with you I’ve done the math  There’s no solution  We’ll never last Why can’t I let go of this? 
As Eren goes on and on, that soft voice that’s lulled you to sleep hundreds of time is haunting you. And Marco’s reflexes to wipe your tears away fast are the only reason that people don’t catch on.
When Eren finishes, his green eyes meet yours and he gives you a painstakingly long look, before walking away. 
You don’t see him again that night. Or for a while. You figure it's better that way. Being in the same room but not talking is like nails on a chalkboard.
--
You lean over the counter, scrolling through the set of pictures Ricky just took, as you wait for the timer on your computer to count down.
Ricky circles his arm around your shoulder, as you both watch the seconds on the timer run out and the little display of confetti go around the screen. 
You refresh the tab on your Apple Music and you see it - your name and album cover displayed in bright colors right at the top banner. 
“How does it feel?” Ricky asks, watching you refresh your Spotify on your phone and watch the songs turn from grey to white, meaning they're now able to be played. 
“Good. I hope Historia calls me after she realizes that dorothea is about her.” you murmur, the notifications on your phone buzzing from Reiner, Levi, and Mikasa. You open Levi's first.
levi: We love the record, kid.
you: it's been out for five seconds.
levi: Just shut up and take the compliment, sometimes.
you: I love you, levi. give kisses to hange. i'll call you guys tomorrow.
“She will. Just relax.” Ricky states, as he watches you push up on the counter, legs dangling in the air after putting your phone down.
He reaches for the lowest drawer, pulling out a dark black box and placing it flat in the palm of your hand. 
“What’s this?” 
“A gift, before you go on tour. And I wanted to ask you something.” 
You nod, encouraging him to go on, as you look at the bracelet - a chain-linked, chunky silver bracelet with a heart charm right in the middle. 
“That’s custom made. From Tiffany, because it’s your favorite right?” 
“Yeah. Thank you, I really appreciate it.” 
“Well, I’m really proud of you. Ribbons is a great record and I’m sure you and I will be competing for Record of the Year in a few months.” 
You smile as Ricky leans closer, hands on both of your sides of the counter. 
“I think you’re really great. And-and I know we’ve been pretending but some part of this became really real for me and I think it did for you too. So I think we should quit playing around and do this for real.” 
You feel your throat dry as Ricky smiles at you, so excited and earnest, that you almost feel bad. For how you’re going to shoot him down. 
“Ricky. Oh. Um. Listen. You’re really great. I-I really like you. But I-I don’t know if I can do that right now.” you respond. 
“That’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you and I’m willing to be patient and all that. We’ll figure it out.” he responds, yanking the chain out of the box and reaching forward to secure it around your hand. 
“Listen. I-I don’t know if it’s all that. It’s just, I don’t. I like you Ricky but not like that. I just can’t do that right now.” 
Ricky leans back in confusion, dragging the necklace off your hand as you give him your most sincere smile. And you can’t help but feel bad for not liking him back. When he’s helped you out more times than you can count, with red carpets and defending you when he didn’t have to. 
But you can't help these sort of things.
“Listen. I-I can go home. I’ll take the trash and then leave so you can be alone, yeah?” 
“Okay. I appreciate that. Thank you for being honest.” 
You breathe a sigh of relief.
“Of course. And thank you for taking it well, I still appreciate what you’ve done and have a lot of love for you.” you respond, squeezing his shoulder as you walk past. 
You take the half filled bag of trash and walk out to the garage to swing the door open. There’s a decent amount of rain pouring down and you quickly scamper out admist it. You throw the bag over your shoulder and quickly run over to the chute to throw it down before running down to the door. 
Except when you reach for the handle, it doesn’t pull down. You jam it down, more aggressively this time as the heavy drops start matting your hair to your forehead. Giving up on the door, you run to the other side and rap your knuckles against the window, where Ricky’s back is still turned. 
He turns around and gives you a look, half opening the window. 
“Hey. Sorry, I accidentally locked the door on the way out.” 
“That wasn’t an accident. That was me.” Ricky responds, glaring at you. 
“Huh?” 
“That was me.” he responds, again. 
“Listen, I can’t really hear you and it’s really cold outside. Can you just let me in?” you ask. 
“Sorry, Y/N. I really like you but I just don’t know if I can do that right now.”
"Ricky."
He closes off the window and walks away all together. 
You can feel the panic setting in your chest - at the fact that you’re standing in the pouring rain in Seattle and you don’t know where to go. And that Ricky, nice and sweet Ricky, just locked you out.
You hunch over on your knees, yanking your phone out of your pocket to call Mikasa. She picks up on the first call and you can hear her and Jean screaming through the speaker. 
“TOP TEN ON THE CHARTS I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT.” they both scream, the sentence going over you’re head. 
“Mika. Mika, wait.” you whisper, the tears starting to fill your eyes. 
You’re thrown off by the screeching of tires and doors closing and you march over to Ricky’s side door. You lightly crack it open and spot seven paparazzi cars, parked straight on Ricky’s porch. 
Meaning. Not only did Ricky lock you out of his house in the pouring rain but he made sure to call the paparazzi so they can catch you the first chance he got. You quickly shut the door and run to the backside of the house, into the back streets by Ricky’s neighborhood. And the panic's starting to make your legs shake.
“Mika. You’re not still in Seattle, are you?” you ask, the panic laced in your voice. 
“No, babe. We’re in Tampa right now for Armin and Annie’s thing. We left a few days ago.” 
“Do you know anyone who is? This is urgent, Mika.” 
You hear Mikasa murmuring over the phone and suddenly Jean’s on the line, his voice more firm and collected than Mikasa’s. You can suddenly hear her panicking in the background, talking to a third voice you can’t identify. 
“Marco says your options are Eren or Historia. They’re both still in Seattle, though I think Eren’s closer to where you are. Call us when you’re safe. Immediately, Y/N.” Jean says. 
“Okay.” 
You can hear the sound of raised voices from the direction you came and you quickly hunch to the side. You try your best to wipe the wetness of your phone as you scroll for Eren’s contact and dial. 
He picks up on the first ring.
“Y/N?” he asks, voice raspy like he was sleeping. 
And at the sound of his voice, months after the fact, when you’re soaked to the bone in the rain, you can’t help but cry. 
“Eren?” you ask, voice breaking. 
“Y/N. What is it?” he asks, voice suddenly louder. 
“I need your help.”
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"No. No, I'm not hurt, but I could be? I don't know, Eren I-"  
“Say the word. What-what is it? I-I’m there. Just tell me what you need me to do, love."  
“I need you to come get me, Eren.” 
“I’m coming. Stay exactly where you are and on the line with me.”
--
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