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springtyme · 1 month

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heyy love, could you do an aaron hotchner x fem bau reader where they dated in secretly for a while but then he broke up with her. the reason he broke up with her is because he is her boss and that always was something that made him feel doubtful about their relationship. it’s up to you if you want to end it with an happy ending.

thank youu

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐀𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ♡

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader || Main masterlist || Spotify

Thank you so much for the request, dear anon! Such a lovely one and I was so happy to write for Hotch! mwah <3

summary: You suspect that you've been in love with Aaron Hotchner since you first laid eyes on him three years ago. Now you're on your way to Idaho to go on your first case together since he broke your heart two weeks ago.

word count: 4.5k

warnings/tags: Angst and fluff. Boss/employee relationship. Hurt/comfort. Heartbreak. Kissing. Sharing a bed. (first time I write for Hotch, so please bear with me) Haven't proof read yet. I don't know if I really like how it ended up tbh, but maybe it's just because I was really tired while writing it..?

You keep your gaze on the pages of the book, despite the words keep blurring together and after having read the same paragraph four times over, without even having registered what you have read. You’ve given up on actually getting any reading done, but you don’t want anyone talking to you right now and you still have almost four hours left before you land in Idaho. So you keep eyes glued to the book, hoping that the act of pretending to read will deter any unwanted conversation.

You can feel his eyes on you, not all the time, but you feel how his gaze occasionally lingers on you. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you sense his presence nonetheless.

Taking in a deep breath you look up from the book to steal a glance in his direction, catching his eye for a brief moment before he looks away. There’s a flicker of something in his expression, a hint of longing that mirrors your own. But just as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone, replaced by the stoic mask he wears so well as he continues his conversation with Derek.

The last two weeks have been painful, filled with a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions since Aaron had ended your relationship, before it even had a chance to really begin. It’s been three years since you joined the BAU and from the very beginning you had felt drawn to Aaron Hotchner in a way that defied logic and reason, like there was a connection between you that transcended the professional boundaries of boss and subordinate.

A silly crush is what it had started as, but the more you got to know him, the more you realized that what you felt was far more than just that. It was a deep, undeniable attraction, a connection that went beyond the surface level. And as time passed, that initial spark grew into something more profound, something that stirred your soul and filled your heart with warmth.

Sometimes you had let yourself hope that he felt the same way, that the moments of shared glances and unspoken words between you held a deeper meaning, but you had never dared act on it, or let yourself get your hopes up too high. The reality of Aaron’s position as your boss and the boundaries it imposed had always stood as a barrier. The unspoken rules of professionalism, the fear of risking his or your career and the harmony of the team had kept your feelings hidden, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation.

It was three months ago that things had changed between you. It had been a moment of vulnerability, a shared confession during a late-night conversation with the raw emotions of the aftermath of an exceptionally harrowing case that had laid bare the depths of your emotions, and the longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long had reached a point of no return.

He had kissed you that night and it was sweet and tender, yet charged with unspoken desire and desperation. It was a moment of surrender, a brief glimpse into a world where the barriers between you could be broken down and the feelings you had both been suppressing could be allowed to flourish.

The next couple months had been a whirlwind of stolen moments and whispered confessions, each one deepening the bond between you in ways that words could never fully capture. There were secret meetings in secluded corners of the BAU office, stolen kisses in the quiet of the night, and shared glances that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, a shadow began to loom over your newfound connection. Aaron had started to act distant and reserved, his once warm and affectionate demeanor now replaced by a noticeable aloofness. And two weeks ago on a night where the both of you had stayed late to finish some reports he had told you that it all had been a mistake, and that the two of you should maintain a strictly professional relationship moving forward.

His words had cut through the air with a sharp finality and landed like a heavy blow, shattering the fragile hope that had still lingered within you. Aaron’s eyes had been averted, unable to meet your gaze as he spoke the words that shattered your heart.

You steal another glance at Aaron, watching as he maintains his composure in conversation with Derek, his mask of professionalism firmly in place.

You turn back to your book, the words still a jumbled mess on the page. You can’t pretend to read anymore, not when your heart is heavy with memories and unspoken words. With a sigh, you close the book, making Emily, who is seated across the aisle, glance up from the case file she is reading with a questioning look.

You offer her a faint smile, attempting to convey a sense of normalcy despite the turmoil swirling within you.

“You okay?” she asks as she sets aside the case file. You appreciate her gesture, knowing that Emily’s intuition often went beyond words.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, the weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on you. With a small nod, you offer Emily a reassuring smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a lot on my mind,” you reply softly, the words carrying a weight that belie their simplicity.

Emily nods in understanding, her gaze holding a sense of sympathy. “He’s an idiot, by the way,” she says with a wry smile, and you feel how your heart stops for a second, panicking at the thought of Emily uncovering the truth of what has unfolded between you and Aaron.

“What do you mean?” you stammer, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for Emily’s response.

Emily just smiles at you as she picks up her file again. “We’re profilers, it’s not hard to read between the lines,” Emily says with a knowing glint in her eyes, her smile reassuring and understanding. “And you’re not as hard to read as you think, it’s clear that you have been dating someone, you have been looking like a smitten kitten for months, it’s been really cute to see, by the way, but something has changed recently. You’ve been distant, and often lost in thought sulking,” Emily continues, her tone gentle yet perceptive.

It’s not like it really surprises you, given how perceptive Emily is, and how deeply you’ve been feeling the shifts in your relationship with Aaron, but you had still hoped that you could have hidden your feelings from colleagues.

“So, yeah, whoever he is that has you feeling like this is an idiot, you’re clearly a catch,” Emily says with a reassuring smile, her words carrying a sense of warmth and understanding.

You feel relief wash over you, though Emily has sensed that you’ve been heartbroken, she hasn’t figured out that it is our boss that has been the course of it.

“Thanks, Em,” you say, offering the dark haired woman a tired but grateful smile.

Emily returns your smile. “If you ever need to talk or just... not talk, I’m here,” she offers, her voice warm and reassuring.

“I appreciate that,” you say, and you do really mean it, but you know that you’re not ready to talk about any of this yet. “But I think I’ll try to take a nap first, hopefully clear my head a bit before we land.”

“Mm, sounds like a plan,”Emily responds with a soft chuckle.

Grabbing the blanket from the empty seat next to you, you lean back in your seat, engulfing your body in the soft, fluffy material.

Before closing your eyes you cast one last glance at Aaron, his profile etched against the soft glow of the cabin lights. The memories of stolen moments with stolen kisses floods your mind, mingling with the ache of his recent rejection. You feel a pang in your heart, a mix of longing and sorrow, as you turn away, curling up in your seat, closing your eyes to the world outside.

You pull the blanket closer around you, the soft warmth of the blanket envelops you, cocooning you in a sense of comfort and security, providing a shield against the turmoil of your heart. The gentle hum of the airplane engines lulls you into a state of relaxation, the rhythmic sound serving as a soothing backdrop to your thoughts and emotions.

As you feel yourself drifting further into the realm of sleep, your senses start to weaken, the sounds of the airplane cabin fading into a distant murmur and you barely register the tears gently sliding down your cheeks before you drift off.

· · · · ·

You’re softly pulled out of sleep by the gentle touch of a hand on your shoulder. As you slowly flutter your eyes open, the soft glow of the cabin lights illuminates the figure beside you.

“Hey, sleepyhead, we’re about to land,” Derek’s voice is warm and filled with a hint of amusement as he gently rouses you from your slumber.

You blink a few times, the remnants of sleep still lingering in your mind as you adjust to the reality of the present moment. With a small smile, you offer Derek a nod of gratitude. Slowly, you sit up in your seat, the blanket slipping off your shoulders as you get ready for touchdown.

As the plane begins its descent, you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you - longing, sorrow, and a hint of resignation. The turbulence of your heart echoes the turbulence in the jet cabin as you start dissenting onto a lower altitude.

As the cabin lights dim in preparation for landing, you look up to find Aaron’s eyes looking in your direction, his gaze briefly meeting yours before he looks away, a shadow covering his features in the soft glow. This would all be so much easier if he would stop looking at you all the time.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions as the plane continues its descent. The mix of longing and sorrow in your heart feels almost suffocating, but you push it aside. You have to focus, have to keep your head clear for the sake of the case, you are a professional and you are not going to let your emotions cloud your mind. As the wheels touch the runway with a slight jolt, signaling your arrival in Idaho, you

And as the team disembarks from the plane and makes their way to the awaiting SUVs, you feel a sense of resolve settling within you, happy to no longer be confined to the limited room of the jet cabin and as you step out into the crisp evening air, you release a sigh of relief.

You watch Aaron walk ahead of you, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable as he walks to one of the cars and you beeline for the other. You keep your gaze fixed outside the window for most of the car ride, watching the landscape pass by in a blur as the car speeds towards its destination, a little sleepy town about an hour away.

As you and the team arrive at the local police station, you can feel the tension between you and Aaron simmering just beneath the surface. The case at hand requires your full attention, and you push aside the turbulent thoughts and emotions that threaten to consume you as you focus on the task at hand.

Throughout the evening and early night, you work alongside the team, profiling the unsub and piecing together clues to hopefully catch the unsub before they strike again. The familiarity of the work, the rhythm of profiling and investigating grounding you in the present moment, making you go into a state of laser focused professionalism. You find a sense of purpose in the work you do, a reminder that you are more than the turmoil of your emotions.

But as the night wears on, the team regroups at the hotel to get a few hours of sleep before continuing the investigation in the morning. You find yourself standing outside the small hotel, looking up at the dark, star lit sky and as you turn to head inside and join the rest of the team, you feel your heart do a little jump in your chest as you see Aaron standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you, his usual stoic expression faltered, his brown eyes softening as they meet yours.

For a moment, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing in the quiet night, and suddenly, you know that the decision you have made to the hard choice you’ve struggled with for the past two weeks is the right one.

Without saying a word, you walk towards him, a mix of uncertainty and determination coursing through you. As you come to a stop in front of him, he opens his mouth to speak, but you raise a hand to silence him. “Not here,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, and you gently take his hand, leading him towards a secluded corner of the hotel grounds.

As you come to a stop, you turn to face him, the dim light of the night casting shadows across his face. With a heavy sigh, you search his eyes for any sign of the man you once knew, the man who had kissed you with such tenderness and held you with such care, for the man you think might’ve even loved you. You had loved him, had long before he kissed you, and you still love.

“Aaron, I…” you begin, trailing off as you feel all the words in your head leave you as you look into his eyes, remembering that night he had kissed you for the first time. It had been a late night just like this one, it had been the first time you had ever called him by his first name.

“Let’s sit,” he says, his voice gentle yet strained, as he guides you to a nearby bench. You both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Finally, Aaron speaks, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for leading you on, for... for everything.” His words are filled with regret, and you can see the pain in his eyes, a pain that mirrors your own.

He reaches out his hand, hesitating before resting it on yours. His touch is soft and hesitant but filled with unspoken longing and you feel how your heart skips a beat, how you have missed the feeling of him touching you, even if it’s just the slightest of touches.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice now barely above a whisper.

‘But it did hurt, it hurt so, so much’, is what you want to say. But as you look into Aaron’s eyes, filled with regret and vulnerability, you find yourself unable to form the words, the intensity in the warm, chocolate brown depths of his gaze rendering you speechless. You see the conflict within him, the turmoil of emotions swirling beneath the surface, and you feel the need to avert your gaze.

You look down at his hand on yours, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine in the balm night air. For a moment, you allow yourself to savor the familiar sensation, the connection that still linger between you despite the circumstances.

Aaron’s hand tightens slightly around yours, a silent plea for understanding. “You deserve so much better than that,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

You take a deep breath, the words forming in your mind before you speak them out loud. “Maybe I don’t want you to decide for me what I do and don’t deserve,” you say, looking up at him again, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling within you. Aaron’s eyes widen slightly at your words, a mix of crossing his features.

It seems like it’s his turn to be lost for words, which for some reason seems to give you a bit more courage. You fill your lungs with another deep breath before opening your mouth.

“I’m quitting,” you declare, your voice firm and resolute. You’ve been struggling with making the decision, but as you look at Aaron now, face lit up by the soft moon light you know that it is the only decision for you, you are never gonna be able to let him go if you keep working for the BAU. “I’m turning in my resignation letter when we get back from this case.”

Aaron’s eyes widen in shock, his grip on your hand tightening even more as he processes your words. The weight of your statement hangs heavy in the air between you, the unspoken implications of what this means for both of you settling in. You can see how a myriad of emotions flicker across his face – surprise, concern, and perhaps a glimmer of something else that you can’t quite place.

“You can’t do that,” Aaron’s voice is firm but filled with a mix of concern and resignation, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt

You can’t help but feel a pang of hurt at his words, it’s not like you had expected him to be happy about your decision, but a little, and probably naive, part of you had hoped that he would acknowledge that it would be the solution to how the two of you could be together, hoped that he still wanted that. But you’re not leaving the BAU for the slim chance that you can be with Aaron. You’re quitting because it’s become clear to you that it is the only solution. If the only time you can push aside the pain of being around him is when you’re actively investigating a violent crime case, you have to let him go, and you can only do that by leaving the BAU.

“Yes, I can… I have to, I think,” you say firmly, yet you feel your heart breaking a little by the thought of leaving. “I need to do this for myself. For my own well-being,” you continue, your gaze unwavering as you look into his eyes. “I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when it’s not.”

Aaron remains silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. Finally, he sighs, a hint of resignation in his voice. “I never wanted it to come to this,” he admits, his voice heavy with regret.

“I know,” you reply softly, a tinge of sorrow coloring your words. “But we both knew the risks when we started this.”

“I should never have put you in this position,” Aaron says, his gaze dropping to the ground as he speaks. “I should never have kissed you that night. Ilet my own feelings cloud my judgment, and I hurt you in the process. I’m your boss, and I took advantage, and I-I hurt you, and…”

“No, look at me, please.” You reach out and gently cub his cheek in your hand, making him meet your gaze. “Aaron, it wasn’t just you. I wanted it too, I wanted to be with you,” you confess, your voice breaking slightly with emotion. “I wanted to take the risk because I thought it was worth it. And maybe it was, for a while. But we can’t keep going like this, Aaron. It’s not fair to either of us.”

Aaron’s eyes search yours, a mix of emotions swirling within their depths. “What are you saying?” he asks softly, his voice filled with a hint of desperation.

“I’m saying that I need to let you go,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to let go of this hope that maybe someday we could find a way to be together. I can’t keep holding on to something that’s only causing us both pain.” Tears gather in the corners of your eyes as you speak, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. But despite the pain, you feel a sense of clarity wash over you, a sense of liberation in finally speaking the truth.

Aaron’s eyes soften, his hand coming up to gently grasp yours that’s still cupping his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice filled with regret and sorrow. You offer him a sad smile, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

“Me too, Aaron,” you say softly, your voice filled with a mix of love and heartbreak. As you stand up from the bench, you turn to walk away, the weight of your decision settling in your heart. But before you can take a step, you feel a hand grasp yours, stopping you in your tracks. You turn back to see Aaron standing before you, his eyes filled with determination and a hint of something you can’t quite place.

“I...I can’t let you leave without saying this,” Aaron begins, his voice wavering slightly. “I’ve been a fool. I’ve let my own fears and insecurities cloud my judgment, and in the process, I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let you go without telling you that I love you. ”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the depth of his confession washing over you like a wave. For a moment, you feel a flicker of hope ignite within you, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for the two of you. “But what does that mean, Aaron?” you ask softly, your voice filled with a mix of hope and trepidation. “What are you saying?”

Aaron takes a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he speaks. “I’m saying that I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to live with the regret of letting you slip away. I want to fight for a future where you are a part of my life. I know it won’t be easy, I know there are risks and complications, but I can’t let you go without at least trying cause I love you.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as you look into Aaron’s eyes, the sincerity and love shining within them filling your heart with warmth and longing. Taking a step closer to Aaron, you reach out to cup his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with determination.

“I love you, too. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.”

Aaron’s eyes widen in surprise, a mix of emotions flickering across his features. Without another word, he closes the distance between the two of you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss filled with passion and longing. The world falls away as you melt into each other, lost in the moment of shared love and desire as the man you love kisses you under the moonlight.

The kiss deepens, becoming a promise of the future you both want to fight for, a pledge to overcome the obstacles that stand in your way, a balm for the weeks of heartbreak. And as you break apart, breathless and filled with emotion, you feel how your entire body shivers, already missing the feeling of Aaron’s warm lips against yours.

“You’re freezing,” Aaron frowns, quickly shredding himself of his suit jacket and draping it around your shoulders before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. “Let’s get you inside.”

You nod, your heart swelling with hope and love as he takes your hand in his, leading you back to the hotel. Hotel might be a little generous; it’s more of a bed and breakfast, with so few rooms that the team had to pair up and share, but it was the only accommodation in town and it is not like you and the team aren’t used to having to share rooms from time to time.

It turns out the rest of the team has already paired up and hit the hay, leaving only one room since you’re the last two to arrive. “Looks like you and I’ll have to share a room,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips, an hour ago you would be horrified by it, but now you’re absolutely thrilled about it.

“Yeah, looks like it,” he says with a soft smile on his face as you get your keys before taking your hand in his again and leading you to your shared room.

As you step inside, the warmth of the room envelops you, melding with the warmth of Aaron’s touch as he pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours once more in a sweet, tender embrace. In the dim light of the hotel room, with the moon casting a soft glow through the curtains, the emotions swirling within you are no longer suffocating, but freeing, as you surrender to the love that has bound the two of you together.

As you finally break apart and look around it turns out that the room is a twin room, with two beds divided by a bedside table. It makes sense that your coworkers didn’t leave you to share a room with a shared bed.

You share a knowing look with him before the both of you start to quickly get ready for bed, it’s late and you’re both exhausted and there is only a few hours till you’ll need to get up again.

You share one last kiss before moving to your respective beds, but as you lay there, the distance between you feels unbearable. The man you have been pining over for three years has just a little while ago told you that he loves you after weeks of heartbreak and he lies so close yet you can’t even touch him? That’s ridiculous!

“I can’t do this,” you whisper, your voice filled with longing as you look at Aaron.

“I know,” he replies, his voice just as filled with yearning as he pulls his covers to the side letting you slip into the bed with him.

You settle into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, and you feel as if you’re finally coming home. The walls that had been built between you are crumbling down, allowing you to embrace the love that has always been between you.

As you snuggle closer to Aaron, his arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. The turmoil of the past weeks fades away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and love.

“I’m never letting you go again,” Aaron whispers, his breath warm against your ear, and you know that he means it. And you know that you never want to let him go either.

With a smile on your face, and your heart full of love and hope, you drift off to sleep in the arms of the man you love, knowing that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you will face them together.

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sinkovia · 3 months

Text

Consequences

-Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Angst, mention of miscarriage, mention of death, blood.

Alternative ending

You sat on your bed, a book in hand, your other hand gently resting on your stomach. The room was filled with a warm and serene atmosphere as you flipped through the pages. You were reading about first-time parents and tips on what to do when you first bring your baby home. It was a moment of quiet joy, and you couldn't help but smile.

You were happier than ever, your face radiant with the anticipation of the life growing inside you. After a string of painful miscarriages, you had made it past the usual time period of uncertainty. You were now six months pregnant, and the relief of reaching this milestone was evident in your expression.

You and Ghost had been trying for a baby for the past two years. Each time you got pregnant, you miscarried around the three-month mark. His deployments often left you feeling lonely in the house, and it was time for you to expand your family. The idea of having children had always been a shared dream, and you were now well on your way to realizing it.

Ghost had just returned home, his hands full of grocery bags, which he placed on the table with a heavy thud. He was in the midst of a heated phone call, and you could hear his loud, strained voice from the adjacent room. Closing the book, you set it down on the nightstand and slowly made your way to the kitchen, your footsteps filled with a sense of anticipation.

His voice grew louder as you approached, you strained to listen as you heard his words spill from his mouth, the tension and frustration evident in his tone. He cursed in exasperation, abruptly ending the call and slamming the phone down on the kitchen counter, the resounding noise echoing in the room.

"Is everything okay?" you asked him, walking up slowly, your voice filled with concern. He took a deep breath, his gaze heavy and tired, and then turned to face you.

"Price is deploying me," his words landed like a heavy blow. Your heart sank, and your eyes began to well up with tears.

"What do you mean Price is deploying you? You told me that you talked to him about not sending you on missions while I was pregnant," your voice shaking with emotion. You took a step closer, desperation creeping into your tone.

"You did talk to him, right?" searching for any sign of reassurance. But he wouldn't meet your gaze, his eyes fixed on the counter. Your heartache deepened, and a single tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek.

"Simon!" you cried, flinching as he slammed his fists down onto the counter. He raised his voice, his frustration turning into anger.

"For fuck's sake, Y/n! No, I didn't talk to him!" he shouted, and you were stunned into silence. The words he spoke were a painful betrayal. You remembered vividly that he had assured you he'd spoken to Price about this.

"I never got around to it, okay? I didn't think you would make it this far. I assumed you would miscarry again, so I didn't bother telling him. I'm sorry, okay?" he admitted, his voice laced with guilt. The room felt heavy with the weight of his confession, and disbelief washed over you as you struggled to comprehend what he had just revealed. Your heart felt as if it had been torn in two. The man you loved and trusted had let you down in a way you never thought possible.

"Are you serious, Simon?" The disbelief and pain in your voice was thick as you confronted him. "This whole time, you were just pretending to be happy, but in reality, you were just waiting for me to miscarry again?" The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and you fixed your gaze on him, waiting for his response.

He couldn't even bring himself to look you in the eye as you spoke to him, and his voice was heavy with guilt as he admitted, "Yes." Your tears were now falling freely, and your chest ached with the pain of betrayal. He moved past you, grabbing his keys from the counter, his actions leaving you bewildered.

"Where are you going?" you asked, your voice a mixture of confusion and hurt. You moved closer, positioning yourself between him and the door, your determination to address the situation clear in your eyes.

"I'm going out; I need a drink," he responded, his words sounding callous and uncaring. You scoffed in disbelief, feeling the need to get to the bottom of this situation.

"No, you're not. We need to talk about this—" You reached for his hand, but he forcefully ripped it away, turning to glare down at you, his anger laid bare.

"There's nothing to fucking talk about, y/n. I'm deploying in two weeks, and nothing will change that!" He raised his voice, his frustration evident.

Your heart ached as you took a step back, struggling to understand his behavior. "Why are you acting like this? Why are you yelling at me?" you asked, your voice trembling as tears continued to fall.

"Because I'm fucking stressed, y/n. I didn't think you would make it this far into your pregnancy. Now, I'm getting deployed, and I don't know when I'll be back," he snapped, his own frustrations and anxieties taking over.

"Why are you taking it out on me?" You couldn't hold back the pain in your voice. "It's not my fault you didn't tell Price. You should have told him. I'm six months pregnant, Simon! How long were you going to wait until you told him?"

"Did I say it was your fault?!" he shot back, his anger flaring. "I know what I should have done, but I didn't, and now we are here. Now, get the fuck out of my way."

The harshness in his words cut deep, and you looked up at him in disbelief. He had never spoken to you like this before. While you knew his temper could be volatile, he had never taken it out on you in such a way.

"No, I don't want you to leave," you pleaded, trying to keep him from walking out the door. "We need to work this out, Simon. You know how I feel about things like this." You were insistent on resolving conflicts, always wanting to talk things through.

"I don't care how you feel; I don't want to talk about this right now," he retorted, his voice filled with frustration. "I need a fucking drink, so get out of my way." The desperation in his words hung in the air, and you couldn't believe the person he was becoming in this moment.

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "No, I won't let you leave." Your resolve was strong, and you were determined to keep him here until you could address the issues at hand. His frustration had pushed him to a point where he was leaving the house in anger, but you couldn't let that happen. You would never let him leave the house when you guys were upset with one another. It was always something you were insistent on.

His hands went to your shoulders, and he harshly moved you out of the way. You stumbled, almost losing your balance, but you steadied yourself. He walked out the door, slamming it behind him, leaving you alone with a heavy heart and a whirlwind of emotions. You couldn't hold back the overwhelming flood of emotions that consumed you, and you collapsed onto the floor, your body wracked with deep, wrenching sobs.

In all the time you had been together, he had never laid his hands on you in anger like that. His temper was known to flare, but this was an entirely new level of intensity, especially considering he was the one at fault for the situation. You remained on the floor for what felt like an eternity, weeping into your hands, your heart heavy with a mixture of pain, betrayal, and despair. It was an hour of solitude in your sorrow before you mustered the strength to get up.

Getting up to your feet, you made your way to your room, your phone in hand, desperate to reach him. You attempted to call him, your fingers trembling. But just as you were about to press the call button, a sharp and agonizing pain coursed through your stomach, stopping you in your tracks. You were begging, repeating the words, "Please, not again," as you made your way to the bathroom, tears filling your eyes. You were in agony and feared for the well-being of your baby.

You collapsed on the bathroom floor as the pain became nearly unbearable, unlike anything you had experienced before. It felt as though your insides were being torn apart, and you couldn't bear it. With trembling hands and tears streaming down your face, you pressed the dial button and called Simon, your voice choked with pain and desperation.

You cried out as the agony radiated through your body, each moment feeling like an eternity. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer from him. It eventually went to voicemail, leaving you with a sinking feeling of abandonment and despair. As the pain intensified and your vision blurred, you set the phone down on the bathroom floor, your sobs echoing through the empty room.

Your trembling hands moved between your legs, coming away soaked in blood. Panic and fear gripped your heart as you propped yourself up against the toilet, leaning over it for support. Desperation consumed you as you reached for your phone once more, this time dialing 911 in a desperate attempt to get help.

But the blood on your fingers made it difficult, and the phone slipped from your grasp, landing with a sickening splash in the toilet. Your heart sank as you watched the screen turn black, your lifeline to assistance lost in the crimson-stained water.

Tears streamed down your face as you sat on the bathroom floor, gripping your stomach. You watched as the blood began to pool beneath you, and you cried out in anguish. You mustered all the strength you could, attempting to get up from the cold, hard bathroom floor. You needed to get help. Panic and agony coursed through you as you struggled to rise.

The pain was unbearable, and you knew something was terribly wrong. This was beyond the point of a typical miscarriage, given how far along you were in your pregnancy.

As you moved, a searing, relentless pain tore through your body, causing you to scream out in sheer agony. You lay on the bathroom floor, helpless and writhing in pain, your body refusing to cooperate.

An hour had passed, and in your hands, you held your stillborn baby. You sat against the bathroom wall, surrounded by a growing pool of your own blood. Emotions swirled within you, leaving you feeling numb and empty. You asked yourself what you had done to deserve this.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the world around you as you sat there, grappling with the reality of the fifth baby you lost. Your body was supposed to be nurturing new life, but instead, it had betrayed you once again. It felt like a cruel and never-ending nightmare.

With great pain and effort, you retrieved a small box from under the sink. You had experienced miscarriages so often that you'd prepared for such moments, stashing the small boxes under the sink. Gently, you placed your baby inside and closed the lid, tears still silently falling.

You lay on the cold, tiled bathroom floor in a growing pool of blood, your body trembling with exhaustion and pain.

In your arms, you cradled the small, delicate box, the weight of grief pressing heavily on your chest. Every passing moment seemed to drain you further, and the relentless flow of blood showed no signs of stopping.

Each breath became more laborious, your vision blurred, and you could feel your strength waning with each passing second. Your sobs and cries were replaced by an eerie silence as you struggled to hold on, the world fading around you as you clung to the precious, heartbreaking reminder of the life that would never be.

Ghost, sitting at the bar with Soap, had been sharing the situation he was in. It was late into the night, and the bar's dim lighting seemed to reflect the weight on Ghost's shoulders.

He ended up calling Price again, explaining that you were pregnant, and the conversation had been a long and tense one, going back and forth as they argued about the deployment. Finally, Price made the decision not to deploy Ghost on the mission.

With a deep exhale, Ghost felt a mixture of relief and guilt. He knew he had to make things right with you for the hurtful words he had spoken. For the way he treated you when you only wanted to talk it out. For breaking the promise you made to each other to never leave the house when one was upset with the other. Soap patted him on the back, offering his support and reminding Ghost that he really needed to make it up to you.

They ordered a few more drinks, and as the night wore on, they both realized they were in no condition to drive. It was then that they decided to walk to Soap's house, which was conveniently located only five minutes from the bar.

Their plan was to return in the morning, and whoever was in better shape would drive to the store to pick up the things Ghost needed for you.

Morning came, and they walked back to the bar to retrieve Ghost's car. Ghost ended up driving to the store where they selected a variety of items, ultimately deciding to make a basket filled with things you liked.

In the passenger seat Soap arranged the items in the basket while Ghost took a quick detour to the florist, picking out the largest and most beautiful bouquet of flowers he could find before going home.

Soap followed close behind Ghost as they entered the house, he placed the gift basket in the kitchen, and Ghost slowly made his way to the bedroom. He slowly opened the door, and noticed that you weren't in bed so he started to walk over to the bathroom.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed the blood that had seeped from under the bathroom door. Panic surged through him as he rushed to open the door.

His heart dropped, and his breath caught as he found you lifeless, lying in a pool of blood. Your gaze was far away, and you held a small box beside you. He recognized it immediately – the same small boxes you used for the miscarriages.

With a rush of emotions, he took a hesitant step forward, but his balance wavered as he almost slipped on the blood-soaked floor. Rushing to your side, he carefully set the small box aside, his trembling hands unsteady. Ghost cradled your cold face in his hands, tears streaming from his eyes as he sat on the floor, your blood seeping into his clothes.

"Y/n baby look at me, please look at me, love. You're okay, it's okay, it's going to be okay."

He called out for soap, who was in the kitchen. Soap attempted to approach you, but Ghost, his voice strained with grief and guilt yelled at him.

"Johnny just call 911!" he hurried to the kitchen to make the call, leaving Ghost alone, cradling your lifeless form, lost in a world of anguish and guilt.

He called out to you, his voice a desperate plea, but there was no response. Ghost's cries of anguish filled the small bathroom, echoing the unbearable pain in his heart. Tears streamed down his face, and he continued to rock back and forth, cradling you against him.

His voice quivered as he muttered, "I'm so sorry, y/n... It's all my fault... I should have told Price… I should have told him…" he breathlessly whispered against your cold cheek. The weight of his regret was crushing, and the burden of knowing that his actions had led to this moment was almost too much to bear.

Simon held your lifeless body in his arms, the weight of your cold form pressing on him physically and emotionally. The room felt suffocating, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and grief. As he cradled you, all he could think about was the what-ifs and the guilt that gnawed at his conscience.

His mind tried to replay the scene of your final moments over and over. The thought that you were in pain, alone, and scared haunted him. He pictured you suffering, reaching out for help, and he wasn't there for you. The echoes of laughter and clinking glasses from the bar where he was drinking seemed deafening in his mind. While he was having drinks with Johnny you were here, alone and dying.

His eyes wandered to the toilet, where he saw your phone lying there. A chilling realization struck him — that missed call he ignored. Did the phone slip from your weakening grasp after calling him for help? Did you wait for a lifeline that never came? Guilt, heavy and consuming, pressed down on him, making every breath a struggle.

In that heartbreaking moment, Simon felt the weight of the consequences of his actions. The regret and sorrow mingled with the deafening silence of your absence, creating a painful symphony of remorse that would echo in his heart forever.

The memory of his last words to you, spoken in anger, haunted him. Those words, "I don't care how you feel," echoed in his mind like a relentless mantra. He wished he could turn back time, go back to that moment, and change everything.

He longed to take back the hurtful words he'd spoken and to be there for you in your time of need. He wished he had never stressed you to the point of pushing you into another miscarriage. But it was too late, and the reality of the consequences of his actions had come crashing down on him.

Grief enveloped him as he clung to your lifeless body, your silence an agonizing reminder of the happiness he had let slip through his fingers. The guilt and regret were insurmountable, and Ghost's world had shattered into a never-ending nightmare of his own making.

Alternative ending

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its-not-a-pen · 3 months

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YOU CAN YOU UP: Zhuzhi Lang character redesign! because every deadbeat demon lord needs an adorable emotional support snake sidekick/nephew!

ok full disclosure im so obsessed with the original Scum Villain art i want to print it out and eat it. but i did feel like a lot of the characters have really similar faces, which made it difficult for me to tell them apart, and Zhuzhi Lang's design in particular was way too basic which is a huge missed opportunity for fun character designs! I thought his outfit should reflect the supple and flowy movement of a snake, so i went with a Han Dynasty dancing girl outfit with a nice leafy green pallet, just like his namesake, the bamboo. when he moves, i picture him gliding around silently, and no one has ever seen his feet.

[ID 1: Sketchbook art of Zhuzhi Lang from Scum Villain Self-Saving System, a page for each picture. The first shows a full body sketch of his more humanoid form done in black marker and watercolor. His pose is bent and curves to show a snake-like posture, he wears green robes with snakes curling up and around his arms, his hair goes down in a long almost ankle-length braid. Notes pointing around his figure, say, "Cobra shaped hair (hides his lack of ears)" Points to sleeves, reads, "Han Dynasty sleeve dancer inspired outfit (hides snakes)," points to around his ankles, reads, "moves like he has too many bones (or not enough)." Three sketches to the side show black and white face shots, one showing him coyly looking over his shoulder with his tongue flickering out. The second shows him ugly crying. The third is fully teeth bared, a mouth of sharp teeth showing, hair flaring out around him. Then below the fully body is a pencil sketch of him noodle waving, labeled, "silly time!" End ID 1 of 2]

[ID 2: Sketchbook art of snake form Zhuzhi Langf. The top one a full body illustration of snake form with black marker and watercolor, showing a green snake with long black hair growing from his head and a snake body partially contorted with a more humanoid torso and bone structure in the middle, despite otherwise seeming very full snake. He basks in the grass with a bit of foliage overhead. The we get into pencil snake sketches below that, showing a Chinese Cobra, full body, with a close-up of a snake face with some straggly hair to one side, and then the back of the snake head not seen in the full-body to the other side. Labeled, "Chinese Cobra Naja atra." End ID 2 of 2]

#svsss #zhuzhi lang #my friend gave this big pack of copics for my birthday and i finally got around to using them <333 #scum villain #scum villain fanart

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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 months

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Finally Getting Help (prt 6)

Masterpost

The Wayne family gathered in the family room once Alfred was done setting up the projector, somehow there was also a plate of cookies and a couple pots of tea on the coffee table. How he’d found the time they didn’t know, he always seemed to be doing just a little more than should be possible but they didn’t question it.

Jazz seemed nervous as she plugged in her USB and accessed the power point on Ghosts and Liminality. The tidal page had a picture of Danny in his Phantom form standing with a group of others, a boy with gray skin and blond hair, a girl with green hair and skin, and a goth with purple eyes and a dark skinned boy who looked around Danny’s age, and Jazz with the title “Ghosts and Liminals!”

The next slide had simple text: “What are they and How are they made?”

With each slide she read the text on the screen allowed and then added any context or anecdotes she thought of, or had prepared.

(Next slide)

Ghosts:

Made of ectoplasmic energy and obsession

Made either:

when someone dies with strong enough desires

An idea gains enough traction to take on a life of its own

Immutable concepts and gods

Must be allowed to indulge in obsessions or they will cease to exist

All have basic abilities such as flight, intangibility, invisibility, and minor shape shifting

On top of basic abilities most will have additional powers based on their obsessions

Immortal unless killed

Love to fight

Liminals

Made when a human is exposed to high levels of ectoplasm for prolonged periods of time

Have some ghostly traits

Ghostly traits vary person to person

Less susceptible to human illness and injury

“The ghosts on the picture are Kitty and Johnny, we’ve had problems with them but would consider them friends now. They’re the ghosts of two humans who died, but there are others, Vortext for instance is the ghost of Storms. Those ghosts who come from ideas are called ‘neverborns’. There seem to be almost an infinite number of ghosts, however not all of them are interested in having anything to do with us so we tend to get the same faces showing up a lot in Amity.

“I don’t know how many liminals there are. I thought they might be new with my parents' research but as I look into it more I think there are more natural sources of ectoplasm then my parents thought.” Jazz explained before going to transition to the next slide.

“I have a question-” Bruce started before Jazz hushed him.

“Wait till the end please! I might answer it without you having to ask,” She scolded, and he felt very much like a schoolboy again as his children snickered.

(Next slide including a image of the glowing green viles in the Fenton’s lab and a glowing green crystal)

Ghost biology

Ghosts do not have any recognizable organs or bones

The only solid part of their being is their Core which is the source of their ectoplasm

Any injury to a ghosts form not done directly to their core is considered minor and will heal

A healthy ghost is fully capable of mending any damage including removed limbs in a matter of hours or days depending on extent of the injury

All injuries not including the Core are considered minor

Ghosts are considered young for at least the first hundred years of their existence and are often not considered adults until nearly 500

A caveat to this is ghosts are heavily driven by emotion and will often be the age they feel they are allowing ghosts to mature much more quickly, or more slowly

When this is the case ghosts are treated as the age they present and behave

Ghosts reproduce by shaping ectoplasm and Wanting a child badly enough

“Believe me it was incredibly scary the first time I saw Danny in his ghost form have something go right through his stomach. It took him a long time to convince me it wasn’t a big deal and it barely hurt. He does have to make sure he repairs the damage Before turning human again though or the damage can transfer over and I don’t need to tell you a hole in the gut is a lot more serious for humans!

“If I’m honest I only know ghosts that have stayed younger then they really are, for instance Youngblood who’s a few hundred years old and could be well on his way to adulthood if he wanted but has remained a child. I assume it can go the other way though, if a ghost is very mature for their age.”

Ectoplasm

Ectoplasm is the energy that makes up all ghosts and the Ghost Zone itself. All ghosts can feed on the ectoplasm around them as well as produce their own by indulging in obsessions. The ghosts Cores produce the ectoplasm like a brain produces neurochemicals when exposed to the right stimulation.

Ectoplasm is a powerful source of energy but unstable. When it is stabilized into an ecto-crystal it is more stable and can be used as a power source safely by ghosts and liminals.

“Most ectoplasm is green like you see in the pictures. But it isn’t the only colour, some other ghosts produce different colours and it is highly tied to what emotion drives them. When it’s pure it usually smells like petracore but it can get pretty foul.”

(next slide)

What are Obsessions

Every ghost has one or more obsessions

They can be very literal things such as boxes, or ideas and emotions such as Love

In rarer cases they may have dual obsessions

Unlike for humans obsessions are very healthy for ghosts

Ghosts need to indulge their obsessions

Sometimes the way ghosts indulge their obsessions might seem evil, however it is almost always just amoral

Obsessions shape every part of a ghost from their powers to thier physical appearance, to befriend a ghost you Must understand and aid their obsession

In very extreme circumstances a ghosts obsession may shift, sometimes this is healthy, more often it is a result of extreme trauma

“With my interest in psychology this was sort of hard for me to accept. From the outside the way ghosts obsess seems really unhealthy but it’s what gives them life. When not allowed to indulge in their obsessions ghosts will dysregulate and go to extreme lengths to try and get their obsession, if that doesn’t work they either go dormant if their core is still healthy enough or they will melt.

“Ghosts change their obsessions very rarely, I’ve heard of it happening as they heal. For instance once a ghost has gotten revenge for themselves, if that was their obsession, their obsession might shift to avenging other people, or even protecting them so they don’t need to be avenged.”

(Next Slide)

Ghost Culture

The Ghosts have a monarchy

The title of the Ghost King is not hereditary but passed through trial by combat

Under the monarch is a council of being known as Observants, and powerful and old ghosts called Ancients

Ghosts respect strength and value power and cunning in combat a lot

Ghosts bond with each other through combat and play fight with family and friends often

“I have down that the ghosts are a monarchy, and technically that is true but the current Ghost King was a tyrant who was locked away thousands of years ago. I’m sure as soon as someone shows up who’s powerful enough to beat him his court will be happy to pick up where they left off with a better King, or queen, though I don’t think the title has to change based on gender.

“I really can’t stress enough how violent ghosts are! Because nothing short of having their cores shattered can kill them, play fighting for them can look Very Much like a murder attempt to a human. A lot of the issues we’ve had with ghosts have come from them just not understanding quite how fragile humans, and for most of them they feel really bad once they know they actually Hurt someone by shooting them. It’s really best for everyone when they’re kept separate and Ghosts can happily tear each other apart in peace.”

Liminals

The result of long term low level exposure to ectoplasm, sudden high doses are almost always deadly

Liminals Can have almost every trait a ghost can, usually having a combination of a few

Commonalities between liminals include

Minor cosmetic changes such as: glowing eyes, pointed ears, and/or sharp teeth

Increased stamina, strength, and aggression

Increased obsessive behaviour

Liminals sometimes develop powers shaped by the strength and type of obsession

“Most of the people Danny and I know are liminals. I don’t want to talk about them in case they don’t want to be outed so I’ll talk about myself and my parents. We all had prolonged exposure after all. My ears are pointed,” She said brushing her hair back so they could see them, “And Danny is a little more then liminal but even in human form he has fangs.

“My parents didn’t realize it but they could to the point they could subsist on their obsession without needing to eat or sleep as often as a regular human would. About a year ago I started developing the ability to tap into and feel other peoples emotions, I can feed on them a little too but I try not to because the Worst ghost we met did that and I don’t want to be anything like her.”

(Next Slide)

In conclusion

Ghosts are not evil even though sometimes their actions are hard to understand

Never get between ghosts when they’re fighting each other but it’s usually safe to yell at them to remind them not to break anything

Never get between a ghost and their obsession

Don’t drink ectoplasm unless you know you’re already liminal

“I have a feeling the section about liminals will be familiar to a bunch of you. I know Damian is liminal though I don’t know how he was exposed to ectoplasm and some of you,” Her eyes skirted across Tim and Bruce. “Are toeing the line. You’ll probably notice Damian and Danny getting really close, and they might get in some really vicious looking fights. I promise Danny is playing at least.”

The family was left silent for a moment, Bruce knew he was thinking about Jason. Who had died, been exposed to.. What certainly seemed to be something like Lazarus water and come back, obsessive, aggressive, and emotional. He wished he’d had this powerpoint a long time ago. It helped understand Damian too but mostly he was thinking about Jason. He needed to reach out again, maybe meeting Danny would be good for Jason?

“So uhhh, ya, that’s the end of the powerpoint?” Jazz said, shifting from foot to foot in the awkward silence. “Any questions?”

#danny phantom #fanfiction #dc x dp #jasmine fenton #bruce wayne #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #liminal #tim drake #jason todd #trans!danny #the batfamily #danny is pregnant au #finally getting help au #vlad is a creep #dc stands for disregard cannon

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gothhabiba · 10 months

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hello, i kno close reading aint the only way to analyse a text but im trying to find other ways of doin it but google is just givin me how to do close readings in your classroom things. idk im not a booksguy really tho id like to learn how to books better. do u have any like basic resources for ways to read a text an figure out whats goin on in it that isnt doing a close reading? thanks

Close readings are mostly associated with new criticism. This school of criticism, like every other, arose in a particular time and place and can be analysed as having arisen for a particular reason. Also like every school of criticism, it has its adherents and its detractors. But considering the "work" as its own whole, self-contained aesthetic object in the way that NC does is not the only way to read.

Some other approaches, off the top of my head, & the schools of criticism they're roughly associated with:

How does the work make you feel? What are your reactions to it? What emotions and associations does it conjure up? What is your spatial or temporal experience like reading the work (like, how does the work appear to you as something that unfolds over time, as you read it? When and how are you reading it)? How do your expectations about a certain work affect how you read? [Reader-response]

What is the economic and ideological history of the genre, form, and aesthetics of the work in question? What ideological function does the work seem to serve? Does it serve to convince its readers of anything, and if so, what political implications does its viewpoint have? What ideas of oppression, history, and the forms that resistance can take does the work present or seem to advocate for? What does it make visible or invisible, what does it make seem possible or impossible? [Marxist literary criticism / Marxist aesthetics]

When, where, and by whom was the work published? What else do we know about the author's opinions on aesthetics, politics, &c., and how do we know it? How are those opinions reflected by, or in tension with, what you see in the work? Were there any problems getting the work published, and, if so, do they have to do with the author's class or gender or politics, &c.? Where and how was the author living (richly or poorly, working as a maid in another household or employing servants or a wife to free up time for intellectual pursuits) while writing?

And, doubling down on when the work was published—what were the popular or dominant discourses about science, biology, human cognition, political economy, race, gender, war, &c. &c. when and where the author wrote and published? How does the work seem to mobilise, use, subvert, echo, further, or contest those discourses? How would the work's first readers have read it in light of the popular discourses they were familiar with? [contextualism; new historicism]

What materials was the book originally published in? Where did those materials come from? Was it cheaply or expensively made? How much was it sold for? Who would have been able to afford it? What does the form of the book (any illustrations? what's the typeface and size? margin size? hardcover or paperback?) imply about who is meant to read the work, and how they're meant to read it? What effect did the state of print technology at the time of the book's publishing have on its final form (e.g., it used to be impossible to have text and an image on the same page in a mass-produced book)? Where do the objects described in the book presumably come from, and by whose labour would they have been produced and transported? What does this say about the material lives of the characters? [Material culture studies]

What are the early notices and reviews of the book like, and where do they appear? Who wrote them and where did they publish them? Is the book mentioned in diaries and letters from around the time of its publication? How did the responses to the book change over time? How did audiences in different places, or of different demographics in other ways, respond to the book? What went into making the book accessible to new audiences over time? What extra-textual stuff (“paratext”: book covers, advertisements, interviews, reviews) influence how people read the work? [Reception history; translation studies; maybe fandom studies]

Who edited the work? How much control did the publishing house, and the publishing house's readers, have over the final format of the text? Who decided what the punctuation would be like, and where the chapter breaks would go? Who decided on the spelling (was it published at a time when spelling was standardized? Did the author's manuscript contain any idiosyncratic spellings? Did the publishing house have a house style)? Are there any ideological connotations to "correcting" this author's spelling? Was the author's manuscript typed or handwritten? Were there any problems reading their handwriting? How many versions of the manuscript were there, and how did the publishing house chuse which to work from? [Editorial theory]

These associations between methods of reading and schools of criticism are mostly just to give you terms to look up to read more. Scholars don't all necessarily belong firmly to a given school, and people often mix and match various modes of reading to be able to argue what they want to argue.

#Anonymous #questions #literature #literary criticism #reading comprehension

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fridayiminlcve · 1 year

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what is your problem with tiktok or booktok and colleen hoover lmao its not that bad surely

the fact that it actively promotes overconsumerism, the way it sells books to you by just playing into already heavily milked out tropes with very specific character niches that are seen in every book nowadays and how the reading is just seen as something aesthetic or a part of the "it girl routine" maybe? if those are enough reasons for you?

does the fact that these books are the first things you see when you walk into a bookstore not bother you? when you ask someone for a book recommendation they'll follow it up with "its a romance slow burn enemies to lovers". it's always about the aesthetic of the book, how many lines can you take out of context and post as a compilation of your super cute romantic annotations page on instagram. no analyzing the book, no theories, no symbolism or meaningfulness at all. how people stand reading those kind of books and still feel any kind of emotions over these flat as hell books with no world or character building is genuinely baffling to me

no one seems to know about actual literature anymore, which not to sound like a boomer but i think its definitely true. there's always been trend cycles, i agree such as the harry potter craze from the 1990s to the 2000s and the dystopia hunger games/maze runner/divergent blast in the early 2010s but tiktok has just.. shortened these cycles so much. as a result, people like our darling colleen hoover whose written around 46 books since 2015 (according to google) try come up with as much fresh content as they can as quickly as possible for the readers (see overconsumption). the fact that this lady outsold the bible is not outstanding to me, its fucking concerning.

and after all that, the result is badly written books with characters who're about as dimensional as a piece of paper, overuse of tropes, read like they've been written by a toddler, toxic-ass relationships being romanticised, very unnecessary sex scenes and countless other things. seriously if i wanted to read about the kind of stories hoover tells i would just open a wattpad account.

not clowning on those who made the choice to read it. i'm trying to highlight some of the flaws i find in authors like colleen hoover, sjm, ali hazelwood, casey mcquinston. some of them might be good, i wouldn't know because i actively try and avoid them at all costs. also i am BEGGING u all who will have an objection to this post to reach out of your comfort zone and read something different like non-fiction or fantasy or one of the classics for once if you only read booktok like seriously it might be hard but just do it for the love of god!! if you're annoying on this i will block you by the way i don't care

#nike muses #asks #anon #anti tiktok #anti booktok #anti colleen hoover #anti intellectualism

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luminoustarlight · 5 months

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As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Three

Lines are beginning to blur between you and Anakin.

◂ chapter two ▸ chapter four

rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.2k | read on ao3

warnings: alcohol, age-gaps, body image insecurities (anakin), sexual fantasies/content, swearing, a little bit of mean anakin

“Tell me everything! Is he everything you thought he’d be? Totally dreamy? All stoic and boss-like? Oh, what does he smell like? Expensive?”

Your best friend has barely taken off her shoes before bombarding you with questions about your first day working for Anakin Skywalker. You give her a welcoming hug before taking her hand and leading her into the living room. “Come on, I’ve already opened a bottle of wine.”

Two empty glasses stand next to a middle-shelf Pinot Gris on your coffee table. Sabine takes it upon herself to pour the wine and pulls the granny square blanket from the back of your couch over her lap. She looks like she’s settling in for a bedtime story.

“Okay, I’m ready. Lay it on me.”

You situate yourself on the opposite end of the couch and slip your legs under the blanket. You take a small sip of wine before attempting to answer any of Sabine’s questions. Your first day at Skywalker Enterprises went by in a blur. Meeting your boss was not at all how you imagined it would go. It was all so clumsy. Anakin seemed more like an embarrassed school boy than the confident CEO you were expecting. He looked like he saw a ghost when he saw you sitting behind your desk. And then, in the car on the way to his house, he addressed your butt.

“Let me know if your butt gets too toasty,” he said. It was so incredibly adorable because you could tell he let a little bit of his guard down when he said it. Obviously, he didn’t mean to. Because no sensible boss should talk about his assistant’s butt. Especially not when you’ve only just met each other. You found it endearing.

But then, after the initial awkwardness faded and you continued talking to each other throughout the day, there was a sense of familiarity about him. The structure of his sentences when he spoke reminded you of someone. You’re just not sure who.

“He’s not really what I thought he’d be like.”

“How so?” Sabine asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, unable to explain the stirring of feelings and emotions in your chest. “He’s… he was sort of awkward when we first met. Like, stuttering and fumbling over his words. Almost as if I made him nervous.”

Sabine nods slowly with her eyes narrowed. ��Go on…”

“Well, that’s crazy, right? The fact that I could’ve made him nervous?”

“Not necessarily. Look at you. You didn’t have a successful OnlyFans page for nothing.”

“Yeah, but he’s in his forties,” you emphasize. You remind yourself of his age nearly every minute to remember how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your boss. Applying for the job was such a bad idea. What made you think you wouldn’t be attracted to him when you saw him in person? Your cheeks get hot as you think about him rounding the car to open your door once you got back to the office after dropping off his son’s pants at school. It was just a common courtesy, not a sign of interest. But damn, was it nice to be on the reciprocating end of something gentlemanly.

“And he’s a dad! I shouldn’t be making dads nervous,” you add. “I mean, I saw a picture of his wife at his house. She was stunning. Stunning, Sabine. High cheekbones, a nice straight nose, a gorgeous smile…”

“Wait, he’s married?!” Sabine sets down her glass.

“Widowed.”

“Oh,” Sabine says sadly. Then her eyebrows perk up. “Oh.”

“Don’t,” you hold up your finger. “Don’t give me that look. He’s my boss.”

“But you like him,” Sabine sings. “And from what it sounds like, he likes you too.”

You cannot let Sabine put the idea of Anakin Skywalker, engineering millionaire, having a measly little crush on you. Because it’s absolutely absurd. He’s him and you’re… you’re just a girl who was uploading videos of herself masturbating for money just last week. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work. It’s empowered you in so many ways, but it was time to find something a bit more steady and reliable. And less physically taxing, to be perfectly honest.

“Sabine, be serious. I-” your phone pings with a distinct tone that makes you pause.

New Message from Skyguy81

“Oh, my God,” you say.

“What?” Sabine asks.

“It’s Sky,” you answer her while opening the message.

Sabine eagerly crawls on top of you to peer at your screen. “Sky as in Rich Guy Sky? Did you upload a new video or something? What did he say?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I haven’t uploaded anything since last Thursday. Get off of me so I can read his message.”

Sabine retreats to her side of the couch as you begin reading to her.

“I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.” Your tongue feels like sandpaper and your heart is in the bottom of your throat.

“Oh, shit!” Sabine exclaims. “You’ve got this boy whipped! Honestly, you should just keep making videos for him. He was your best tipper, anyway.”

“He’s never… he’s never messaged me out of the blue before.” You chug down the last of your wine, thinking you may need some liquid courage for whatever conversation is about to unfold between you and Sky.

“He wants you,” Sabine says simply. “Make it happen.”

“I can’t just meet up with someone from OnlyFans. It’s an episode of Dateline waiting to happen.”

Sabine rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so cynical.”

“I’m not being cynical, I’m being logical,” you counter. You’d be foolish to risk your life by meeting up with Skyguy81. No matter how nice and genuine he seems over private messages. No matter how much money he has tipped you. There is no guarantee he’s not absolutely creepy and going to kidnap you.

Okay, so maybe you watch too much true crime. That’s why you have to balance it out with The Great British Bake Off.

“I don’t know. I’m just saying,” Sabine finishes her wine, “you never know. He could be the love of your life.”

You’re quiet as you contemplate the love of your life. Sabine is the romantic. You’re the realist. You have a hard time believing there’s one person in the world who you’re destined to be with. How do you explain Anakin losing his wife? Was she the love of his life? Is he not supposed to move on and potentially find happiness with someone else? None of it makes sense to you and it’s quite possibly because you’ve never been in love.

And the image of the person who you might like the opportunity to love is entirely unavailable.

It’s times like tonight when Anakin wishes he didn’t raise such inquisitive, curious children. Leia is simply chock-full of questions about her dad’s new assistant. When do they get to meet her? Soon. Is she old like Auntie Dorothy? No. Does she like vintage Disney movies? (Anything before 2010 is “vintage” to Leia). I don’t know.

Luke, on the other hand, was very disappointed to learn that you were in the car while his dad dropped off a new pair of pants. “You made her wait in the car like a dog?”

Anakin snorts. “I wouldn’t quite say like a dog, Luke. I was gone for less than five minutes.”

“Did you at least roll down the window? So she could have fresh air?” Leia joins in on the comical idea of their dad leaving his assistant in his car like a pet.

“That’s enough out of you two,” Anakin says through a grin. These 9 year olds, man. What is he going to do with them?

Luke and Leia nod, going back to stabbing their dumplings with their chopsticks.

“I have one last question.” Leia watches her dumpling precariously dangle on the edge of her chopstick.

“What is that, princess?” Anakin asks.

“Is she pretty?”

Anakin’s pulse is going to burst. It’s a simple question- one that always seems to be on the tip of Leia’s tongue. She wants a woman figure in her life. Soon, she’ll be at the age that is easier to navigate with a maternal presence. Anakin is really not equipped to talk her through menstrual cycles.

But it’s the nature of who his new assistant is that makes him feel so exposed. He can’t very well tell his children you’re the most beautiful woman he’s seen since his wife. And he definitely can’t tell them that you’ve been in his life not since this morning, but since three years ago when he downloaded OnlyFans.

Anakin cleans the corners of his mouth with his napkin while he formulates an appropriate response. He’s kept his answers short and simple because if he thinks about you for too long, your figure seeps into his vision, your voice burns in his ears, and he’s unable to focus.

He feels like such a sleaze for getting hard just by thinking about you. You are so much more than a sexual object. And trust him, he can’t wait to learn about all that makes you you. But morals be damned. He wants you desperately.

“Yes, Leia. She’s quite pretty,” Anakin finally answers.

Leia can’t help but dance excitedly in her seat. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“I could’ve met her today,” Luke mumbles. “If Dad hadn’t locked her up in the car.”

Anakin is laughing now. “I have a feeling you are going to be bringing this up for a while.”

After dinner, the kids clear the dishes and load what they can into the dishwasher. Meanwhile, Anakin does something either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.

Now being 10 pm, it’s been 3 hours since Anakin— or rather, Skyguy81— sent you that message.

And you still haven’t replied. But you read it.

And the fact that you’ve read the message but decided not to reply makes Anakin feel so incredibly foolish. What was he thinking? What was he expecting from you? More meaningless flirting?

Except now it’s not meaningless for him. He’s not sure if it was ever meaningless. But now that he knows who the woman behind HoneySuckle is, it’s completely different. You have a name— which he had to look up in employment records because he’s convinced he actually blacked out when you introduced yourself. You have passions and interests, favorite snacks, and a go-to karaoke song. He wants to know it all.

And even though he’s going to see you tomorrow, he couldn’t resist the urge to message you on OnlyFans. But since you’ve opted not to reply to him, he’s now wallowing like a teenage boy.

Ridiculous. He’s better than this, goddamnit!

Finally deciding to stop staring at his phone, Anakin strips down to take a shower. It’s hard for him not to feel disappointed when he looks at himself in the mirror. Arguably, he’s still in great shape. He lifts weights at the gym at least twice a week, sometimes three if he has the time. He doesn’t have a beer belly, which he considers an accomplishment at his age. But he does have some extra fat around his love handles. He has sun spots on his shoulders from the countless pool days when the twins were younger. And then there are the undeniable lines around his eyes, which are incredibly prominent when he smiles.

Anakin has never felt particularly insecure about his image before. He’s accepted that his body is not the same 20 year old body it once was. But there’s a new nagging insecurity in the back of his mind.

Is it good enough for you?

Anakin turns on the water in the shower, needing to wash away all delusions of you and him ever getting together. As soon as he steps one foot on the tile, his phone buzzes. He grabs his phone off of the counter and his heart rate immediately ticks up.

Hi Sky, I’m sorry for the delay. I had a friend over. Here’s a special little something for you ;)

Attached is a picture of you on your bed, sitting on your heels with the thin straps of your panties pulled over your hips. You’re lifting an oversized t-shirt above your breasts, which also expertly hides your face. Right. Because you don’t know that he knows who you are.

Still, the picture was worth the wait. It’s almost embarrassing the way his cock is already standing upright, the tip pressing against his lower abdomen. He focuses on your hard nipples, picturing himself enclosing his mouth around one of your mounds. He’s rolling his tongue over your bud while massaging your other breast. Your hands are in his hair and you’re anything but silent. You’re moaning his name, begging for more, whining for him to put his cock inside of you.

Anakin is too preoccupied to even reply to you. He gets himself under the steady stream of hot water and grabs the base of his length. Now he’s picturing you on top of him, tits bouncing in his face while you fuck yourself on his cock.

“Mmm, yes! Anakin, please. Feels so good.”

Your hands are pressed against his strong chest for support. He loves you like this— in control but still pathetically needy for his dick. “How much do you love it?” he asks. “Tell me how much you love this cock inside of you.”

You throw your head back when he slaps both of your ass cheeks. He grabs onto your flesh firmly and your cunt clamps around him while you proclaim it to be the best feeling in the world. “I love it so much, Ani. Nobody's cock feels as good as yours.”

“Damn right,” Anakin grits. He holds your chin with a strong hand, forcing you to look at him. “This pussy is mine. You understand that?”

“Yes, sir,” you moan as Anakin bucks his hips up, hitting deep inside of you. “Only yours.”

“Yes, sir,” huh? That’s a new kink unlocked. Anakin presses a palm on the shower wall to steady himself as he cums. It’s anything from pretty. It happens suddenly and quickly, thanks to the vivid images he was creating in his mind. He bites down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning too loudly. But your name is rolling off of his tongue effortlessly. As if it’s always been in the recesses of his mind, just waiting to be said intimately and passionately.

He tries to list off the hundreds of reasons why he should never utter your name in a less than professional manner while shampooing his hair.

You’re his assistant.

You’re significantly younger than him.

The power imbalance (see 1 and 2).

That’s all he can come up with for now and it’s enough. Nothing good will come out of pining for you and fantasizing about you. It still doesn’t stop him from messaging you back after he gets out of the shower and settles in bed.

Now I feel guilty for not responding sooner. Thank you for the spectacular photo. It is unfortunate that I had to take matters into my own, ahem, hands. I would have much preferred to have your help.

You flatter me, Sky. Do I really get you that worked up?

Impossibly so.

When you said you thought about me at work… What exactly did you mean?

To be perfectly blunt, you were bent over a desk with your skirt pushed over your ass. I was fucking you well and hard, with my name being the only thing falling from your pretty lips.

Anakin lets out a heavy sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. Why does he keep putting himself in situations that result in an erection? He just needs to have a good fuck. Get it out of his system. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. But under no circumstances will it be with you.

I think I’d like that very much.

Goddamnit. Anakin needs to stop while he’s ahead. While he’s not succumbing to jerking off for a second time tonight. This was a disastrous idea. Because now when he sees you at work tomorrow, he’s going to think about how you would like for him to fuck you over your desk. Except you don’t actually know that it’s him who wants to fuck you over your desk.

Maybe in another life.

Anakin leaves it at that. He puts his phone on do not disturb and attempts to get some reading in before going to sleep. He also prays for G-rated dreams.

The morning fog of late November in Northern California is still hanging in the air when you get to work at 8 am. Anakin won’t be in until he drops off Luke and Leia which means he should arrive around the same time he did yesterday. It gives you an hour to go through voicemails, reply to emails, and brew a pot of coffee in the breakroom.

Ben Kenobi arrives shortly after you, sharply dressed in dark blue slacks, caramel leather Oxfords, and a white collared shirt with small polka dots that match the color of his pants.

“Good morning, Mr. Kenobi,” you greet.

“Please, call me Ben. No need for formalities around here,” Ben replies. “You’ll soon see we operate very much like a family. There will be shouting and likely some name calling, but it’s all in the name of love for engineering and innovation.”

“Got it,” you nod. “It’s just that Dorothy always called Mr. Skywalker by, well, Mr. Skywalker. And yesterday he didn’t tell me to call him otherwise.”

Ben strokes his nicely groomed beard. “Interesting. Well, I suppose you can continue to address him as such until he tells you to call him Anakin. Which I’m sure he’ll do this morning when he gets in. Have you brewed the coffee yet?”

“Not yet.” you stand. “I wanted to check messages first, but coffee is next on the list.”

“Excellent.” Ben follows you into the breakroom. “How are you enjoying your time here?”

“Well, it’s only been a day,” you remind him with a light lilt to your voice. “But it’s been good! Everyone I’ve met is super friendly.”

Ben leans back against the counter, crossing his ankles and arms over his chest. “And you and Anakin? You two getting along? He’s not giving you too much trouble, is he?”

You nearly spill the coffee grounds as you bring the spoon up from the container to the machine. “No!” you say a little too loudly. “I mean, no. He’s been very nice. Quiet, but nice.”

“Anakin? Quiet?” Ben almost laughs. “I’ve never heard that word used to describe Anakin before.”

“Oh.” you continue scooping grounds into the machine. How many spoonfuls are you supposed to put in? You’ve lost count. Maybe two more for good measure. You’d rather make the coffee too strong than too weak. Nothing is worse than weak coffee. “Maybe I caught him on an off day. He did seem a little weird when he brought me to his house. And then I sort of told him off in the car…”

This gets Ben away from the counter and walking over to you. “You did what?”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t tell him off per se. I just asked him to give me a chance. It seemed like he’d already made a decision about me and we’d only known each other for a couple of hours.”

“Good for you,” Ben replies. “Anakin is headstrong but he can be reasoned with. If the reason is worth being reasoned over.”

“Am I?” you ask. “Worth being reasoned over?”

Ben appears to give you a once over and then nods once. “Yes, I’d say so.”

“Thanks…” you say with uncertainty. Ben takes himself and his briefcase to his office, which is the next door over from Anakin’s. He leaves you alone in the breakroom with a dozen questions. Was Ben assessing your appearance? Surely not for himself. He’s insanely in love with his wife— the mayor. Then who for? Anakin? No. No way.

The coffee has begun to brew— the nutty notes of Philz Philtered Soul bringing you back to your college days. There’s one in walking distance from campus and you and Sabine spent every finals week there chugging back Mint Mojitos and Mocha Tesoras.

Those days were not that long ago for you. For Anakin, on the other hand…

You shake your head, effectively shaking thoughts of Anakin taking any interest in you away. And why would he have an interest in you? He’s bound to have a list of more age-appropriate women he can bring home to his children.

Stop thinking about it.

But it’s so damn hard not to. A forbidden office romance with your boss who’s 20 years your senior? Yeah, it’s cliché and sort of sounds like the plot to a porno but it’s sort of fun, too. As long as you keep yourself in check, what’s the harm in pretending like he’s secretly in love with you and wants to take you home?

When Anakin gets into the office, he doesn’t even greet you before saying, “Call Rose. Tell her to come as soon as possible.”

So much for him being nice yesterday. Now he won’t even look at you. “Who’s Rose? What- what is the appointment for?”

“You don’t need to know what it’s for,” Anakin snaps. “Just find Rose in your little phone book, call her, and tell her I need to see her immediately.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you say while thumbing through the contacts Dorothy left behind for you. Without another word, Anakin goes into his office and slams the door.

What the hell was that about? That was once again another awkward morning of Anakin slamming his office door after talking to you. You thought you left work on good terms yesterday. What changed?

Rose Montgomery arrives 47 minutes after you call her. You hear her Louboutins clicking on the floor before you see her. Your eyes trail up from her long legs to her slim waist and perky boobs until you reach her face. Good Lord. She is strikingly beautiful. Her fiery red hair falls in loose curls over her shoulders. As she walks closer to your desk, you are drawn to her perfectly round green eyes. She’s like the real-deal Jolene from Dolly Parton’s hit song. Seriously, did she grow up being called Jolene solely based on her looks?

“Aw, look at you,” Rose smiles down at you. “You must be the new Dorothy.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Aren’t you just the most adorable thing.”

Uh… What the hell are you supposed to say to that? “I’ll let Mr. Skywalker know you’re here.”

“No need,” Rose informs. “I’ll let myself in.” She begins to walk away with an extra sway to her hips. You want to hate her but she’s got such an air of confidence that you actually want to be a little more like her.

“Oh, um, actually I’m not sure about that,” you come out from behind your desk. “He seems to be in a mood so I don’t want you barging in his office to make it worse.”

Rose turns on her heels and purses her lips. “Actually, sweetheart, I’ve known him longer than you and this isn’t my first ‘appointment’ with him. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to go make his mood a little better.”

Okay. Now you hate her. With that, Rose leaves you standing outside of Anakin’s office with a dumbfounded look on your face. Is that… is she… a booty call?

All of the insinuations are there; from the air quotes around “appointment” to the way she said she’ll make Anakin’s mood better. Coupled with her outstanding looks, you’ve decided that Rose Montgomery is a friend with benefits of Anakin Skywalker. You trudge back to your desk and do your absolute best not to think about what’s happening behind your boss’s door.

At the sound of his door opening, Anakin quickly closes his computer tab and turns off the monitor. He pulls his headphones off of his head and puts them in the drawer.

Rose is none the wiser as she drops her Birkin bag on the table beside the chaise. “Ugh, who is that child you have sitting behind Dorothy’s desk?”

“My new assistant,” Anakin answers through a dry throat. Rose sits herself on his lap and drapes her arms over his shoulders. She begins playing with the ends of his curls, which normally, he would enjoy. But he really just wants to get this over with. He draws down the zipper of her black dress while she kisses along his jaw.

“She seems incompetent,” Rose says between kisses. “What is she? Like, 15?”

Anakin twirls Rose’s hair around his fist and yanks her face away from his. This makes her gasp with pleasure, and despite his annoyance, he loves the reaction he gets from her. “I didn’t fucking ask you here for your opinion on her. Do not talk about her again. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Rose breathes. “Where do you want me?”

“On your knees.”

When Rose leaves Anakin’s office, you can absolutely tell she and Anakin had sex. Did she even bother looking in the mirror or her phone camera before coming out? She avoids looking in your direction at all costs and knowing how awkward those walks of shame can be after a one night stand, you decide not to watch her walk to the elevator.

You busy yourself in a filing cabinet until you hear Anakin’s door open again. You tell yourself not to look up because if you look up at him you might actually burst into tears. Which makes absolutely no sense to you but you feel that stinging in your nose and you’re trying to think of the time you got Panini because at least those were happy tears.

Anakin says your name.

Damnit. Get it together. You take a deep breath and plaster on a smile. At least he doesn’t look like he just had sex. His hair is combed back the same way it was when he walked in and his clothes are wrinkle free. “Yes, Mr. Skywalker?”

“Would you like to go get lunch?”

It’s only 10:45 but of course, he’d be hungry after having sex. “Oh, sure. What can I get you?”

“I meant me.”

You furrow your brows together. “Sorry?”

“I mean us. You and me, together. Fuck,” Anakin mumbles that last part. It’s like he loses the part of his brain that forms proper sentences when he looks at you. Think back to the car, Anakin. Things weren’t so bad in the car. Wait, yes they were. He told you to tell him if your butt got too toasty.

You can’t help but smile as you start to see the Anakin who let his guard down in the car. He’s nothing like the Anakin who walked into the office this morning. “You want me to get lunch with you?”

“Yes. If you would like.”

You grab your thrifted black leather bag and your coat off of the back of your chair. “I think I’d like that very much.”

I think I’d like that very much.

That is the second time you’ve said that to Anakin.

On the drive to the farm to table restaurant he suggested, he thinks about telling you the truth. That he’s Skyguy81 and you’ve been messaging each other for three years. Oh, and that he’s seen you naked.

He weighs all of the pros and cons and all of the ways the situation could play out if he tells you. He decides the only way it’s going to end is with you quitting and never wanting to see him again. Telling you who he is is out of the question.

Your face is buried in the menu, effectively blocking you from looking at Anakin. Your nerves are irritably on fire as you sit knee to knee with your boss. You go out to lunch with someone to talk. To get to know them. But you have no idea what to talk about with him. Either he’s super blunt or incredibly awkward and you don’t know what to make of it.

Could Sabine be right? Does he have a crush on you? Do men in their forties even get crushes?

“You are awfully quiet behind there,” Anakin finally says. “Are you hiding from me?”

You slam your menu down nervously. “What? Oh, no. Just… looking at all of the options.”

“I’m kidding,” Anakin chuckles. “If it helps, Leia likes the poke rice bowl. Luke likes the flatbread with artichokes. And I normally just get a burger.”

“Wow, a 9 year old who likes poke? You’ve got some interesting kids.”

“You have no idea,” Anakin replies bashfully. He really calms down when he talks about his kids. Maybe that’s your key to him. Keep him talking about his kids.

“Well, I think I’ll try Leia’s favorite. Do your kids enjoy trying different types of food?”

Anakin gives you a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose so. I didn’t raise them to be picky eaters. They eat what I eat. We had dumplings last night. They’re shit at using chopsticks but it makes for an entertaining meal.”

You laugh along with him, feeling yourself relax the more you see Anakin relax. “I love dumplings!”

“Yeah? We’ll have to have you over some time for dumplings, then.” Anakin doesn’t even realize what he’s saying until it’s hanging between you, awaiting your response.

“That would be nice,” you admit. “I can’t wait to meet them. Of course, you know… if they even want to meet me.”

“Are you kidding? Luke almost threw a fit over me leaving you in the car yesterday. And Leia… well, Leia gets excited about any new woman in my life. I mean, not that you’re my new woman, just you know, in terms of you being Dorothy’s replacement and-”

You place your hand over Anakin’s without a second thought. And it’s more than just skin on skin. It’s electric. You resist the urge to pull away because the overwhelming feeling almost keeps you from saying: “It’s fine, Mr. Skywalker. I get what you mean.”

Anakin is looking down at your hands and you wonder if he feels it too. Or if it’s entirely inappropriate to put your hand on his and he’s going to go back to being standoffish. You remove your hand from his and sit on it.

“You don’t have to call me that,” Anakin murmurs. “Mr. Skywalker. I would much prefer you to call me Anakin.”

You look up at him timidly. He’s being sincere. One corner of his lips are quirked up to form a sideways smile and your heart— your stupid, stupid heart adores it. Perhaps there is harm in pretending like your boss is in love with you. Perhaps keeping yourself in check is going to be a lot more difficult than you thought. Because now that you’re on a first name basis with Anakin Skywalker, you fear simply being his assistant is not going to be enough.

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter four (coming soon)

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #dilf!anakin skywalker #dilf!anakin #dilf anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #as fate would have it

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alonetimelover · 6 months

Text

pairing: Harry Styles x book writer!reader

fc: Saoirse Ronan

summary: YN just released her debut book, and it became the hot topic online. It might have something to do with certain someone being spotted buying it.

a/n: comments to all those posts are long, because i wanted to somehow incorporate the plot of the book that book writer!reader wrote!

masterlist taglist

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yourinstagram

liked by fallinloveinbooks, user49 and 89 202 others

yourinstagram Those are the notebooks in which I wrote my little baby. I can't believe I am typing this, but 'Silver Lining' is out !!! You can buy it at all independent London bookstores. I can't wait for your reviews. I'll read them all.

view all 8 201 comments

yourbestfriend MY BEST FRIEND IS AN AUTHOR !!! JANE AUSTEN WHO ???

⤷ yourinstagram do not disrespect the legend here

fallinloveinbooks OMG i've been following you since that one post about understanding fantasy world and being allowed to incorporate real world in it! i can't wait to read it, im going to the store right now!

⤷ yourinstagram YOU. ARE. THE. SWEETEST. and i remember you from that post and all that came after. I LOVE YOU and will wait for your words!

user92 what is the genre of the book?

⤷ yourinstagram it's fantasy! but there are a few subgenres. i'd say romance and mystery play a huge role in this book, too!

user109 will it be available online? im from us and would love to read your book!

⤷ yourinstagram unfortunately, not in a foreseeable future

⤷ user109 oh no, why??

⤷ yourinstagram being completely transparent, i released this book using my own money- no publishing house involved - because no one was really interested in it. what is in the stores is the printing i was able to afford. hopefully, they will sell and i'll be able to print more editions.

⤷ user102 im crossing my fingers for you

hArrysbtch i was looking for some new fantasy books, you are sent from heaven

⤷ yourinstagram hope you like it, angel

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, yourbestfriend and 80 393 others

harryupdates HARRY outside of the independent bookstore in London today! EDIT: because all of you are asking, he apparently bought 'Silver Lining' by YN YSN !

view all 2 202 comments

hArrysbtch I've just finished that book and OMG OMG OMG, i don't know what to tell you, but he's getting into something so beautiful so structured so sad, i can't say enough.

⤷ harrysmoustache so it's worth it?

⤷ hArrysbtch YES. YES. YES. absolutely. from the first page to the last, it just consumes you. yn did such a good job, and it's her first book ever!

⤷ harrysmoustache oh, i can't find it online

⤷ hArrysbtch it's only at independent bookstores in London. no publishing house was involved, she printed all the copies available with her own money. i can buy it for you and send it?

⤷ harrysmoustache i DMed you!

stylesbabie harry in his book girl era

harrysmylife he is back and he is reading, he's just like me

user102 there's no way he has that book and i don't

fallinloveinbooks I've read it, and I loved it. I hated it because of how much it made me cry. Harry, you're in for a ride a wild one with all the *wink*wink* scenes and the most heartbreaking chapters of literature I've ever come upon

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 173 302 others

yourinstagram I cannot express how thankful I am for you and your love for my book. Unfortunately, for now, there are no copies available. But im trying to make it work. But maybe it wasn't meant to be...

view all 10 202 comments

yourbestfriend that's a bestseller book if you ask me

⤷ yourinstagram you are the love of my life

hArrysbtch not you using the last line of the book, like it didn't tear my heart open

hArrysbtch thank god it's already on my bookshelf, happy that it broke my heart and made me horny

⤷ yourinstagram Those were the emotions I wanted people to feel!

harrysmoustache my copy is flying to me, and I can't wait to read it

⤷ yourinstagram ill be waiting for your review!

user102 read, loved, cried and read again

⤷ yourinstagram two times??? i could smother you in kisses

⤷ user102 i wouldn’t mind that

user292 can't explain how unique and original it is

⤷ yourinstagram ❤️

user939 not harry lurking in the likes

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 128 402 others

harryupdates HARRY and writer YN YSN out and about in London today!

view all 6 080 comments

hArrysbtch Alexa play that should be me by Justin Bieber

hArrysbtch she's mine harry, fuck off

hArrysbtch what is it that whenever I find someone to obsess over they become somehow connected to harry

hArrysbtch but, i smell couple material !!!

harrysmoustache he's gonna be the inspiration spark

⤷ hArrysbtch don't even start! i read silver lining with Harry in mind as one of the main characters

⤷ harrysmoustache as Emrys, right?

⤷ hArrysbtch yes! my protective and sexy bookboyfriend

⤷ user102 I see, we support complicated men here, i love it

stylesbabie they look so good together

⤷ user02 their backs are towards the camera...

⤷ stylesbabie shhh

harrysmylife I love her style !!!!

user402 she's getting so much attention from it. how did she manage this pr?

⤷ hArrysbtch pr???

⤷ user402 don't tell me it doesn't look like one?

⤷ hArrysbtch yeah, I forgot. every woman harry is seen with is just pr or the one to hate. of course. tpwk does not include woman harry is involved with?

⤷ harrysmoustache burnt!!!

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bloomsbury

liked by yourinstagram, yourbestfriend, harrystyles and 40 492 others

bloomsbury Our newest pea in the Bloomsbury pod is the sweetest, London based, young author who has just published her debut novel. We are here to help and tell you that 'Silver Lining' is coming to all bookstores in the world and to online shopping as well on the 15th of November. To feel whole again.

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yourinstagram I LOVE MY NEW POD

yourbestfriend DONT FORGET ABOUT ME WHEN YOU BECOME FAMOUS

⤷ yourinstagram NEVER

harrystyles Congratulations, YN ❤️

⤷ yourinstagram well, thank you, harry

hArrysbtch my favourite author is getting famous!!!

fallinloveinbooks I CANT BELIEVE IT !!! congrats, yn!!

⤷ yourinstagram thank you, sweets!

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fallinloveinbooks

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 6 492 others

fallinloveinbooks I'm attending YN's 'meet the writer' thingy in London and I cannot express how much appreciation I have for her. She thought every little detail in 'Silver Lining' through to make the book perfect. An icon!

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hArrysbtch I am here too! And I love her so much!

harrysmoustache you need to either film some moments or just post-stream it for us!

stylesbabie she looks so beautiful

user102 I am here as well! we need to meet up!

⤷ hArrysbtch im in the second row!

⤷ user102 are you the one with a pixie cut?

⤷ hArrysbtch Yes, that's me!

⤷ fallinloveinbooks I think im sitting next to you, hArrysbtch

user42 come on guys, let us now what are the questions and answers!

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dailymail

liked by hArrysbtch, user102 and 103 393 others

dailymail NEW COUPLE ALERT? Harry Styles and newly established writer YN YSN were seen leaving the same restaurant (Styles a few moments after YSN). YN independently published her debut novel just two months ago and then signed a contract with Bloomsbury publishing house after Harry had been seen buying her book. For more photos and information, visit the link in our bio!

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user102 not you making harry the only reason she got the contract

hArrysbtch she got a contract because of the interest her book sparked online, not harry

harrysmoustache i'll just leave it here but literally Neil Gaiman praised this book online

user402 oh yes, when the privilege is striking

user99 you just cannot stop taking photos of people in their free time, invading their privacy, can you?

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 201 392 others

yourinstagram Somethin' is cookin'. And that's the audiobook of "Silver Lining" voiced by me! It will be available on 23rd of December as podcast episodes on Spotify for more of you to enjoy! Merry early Christmas!

PS: there may or may not be someone else to accord their voice to Emrys

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yourbestfriend i could be Rhiannon

⤷ yourinstagram you were laughing your ass off after two lines

⤷ yourbestfriend not my fault that Rhiannon is the comedy queen

harrystyles 📖🎤

hArrysbtch NO WAY! i adore your voice and now i'm gonna picture you as Rhiannon - this book just became even better (it already was perfect, i don't how you're doing it"

⤷ yourinstagram hopefully, i won't end up as her

fallinloveinbooks my dream came true. i usually have such a hard time reading that audiobooks are the only option. now i'm going to listen to my favourite chapter over and over again

⤷ yourinstagram which ones are your favourite?

⤷ fallinloveinbooks definitely 6, 15, 24, 33 and 42

⤷ hArrysbtch all the chapters that depicts love - i see you

⤷ fallinloveinbooks yes! the thing is that number 6 refers to love and all those chapter number's are either 6 or add up to 6

hArrysbtch wait wait wait, i've just realised. what if harry is voicing Emrys????

⤷ harrysmoustache don't give me hope

⤷ fallinloveinbooks that would be perfect

⤷ user102 i'm not ready to listen to chapter 24 and 33 with him voicing it

⤷ hArrysbtch i will die, literally. those scenes are intense!

user102 she just wants people to be able to read the book and not care about paying bundle and having shitty quality. i love her.

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harrysupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, fallinloveinbooks and 109 393 others

harryupdates HARRY and YN at the market in Clonakilty, Ireland!

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hArrysbtch someone tell me is that her home town?

⤷ fallinloveinbooks yes, it is! her parents still live there!

⤷ hArrysbtch meeting parents? oh god, they are serious serious

fallinloveinbooks they live that small town romance book lives

⤷ user102 so true! i need her to write something like this!

⤷ hArrysbtch i would eat it up

stylesbabie Niall is proud right now

harrysmylife i can't express how much i love domestic harry

user20 she started the thunder online after *possibly* announcing that harry will voice Emrys and decided to step away from socials. i love her. i love her. i love her.

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irishharry

liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 23 403 others

irishharry How thin are the chances to meet Harry in a small Irish town? Very thin. But not thin enough to be impossible. I MET HARRY FREAKING STYLES AND THE LEGEND HERSELF YN YSN !!!

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hArrysbtch they look so cosy... i want what they have

⤷ fallinloveinbooks a man?

⤷ hArrrysbtch yuck, i only like fictional men + harry

harrysmoustache this ken's job is walk

harryupdates this is very aestheticly pleasing photo

stylesbabie small town!harry is my favourite

user102 hopefully the inspiration is overflowing because i'm reading silver lining for the third time

⤷ hArrysbtch are you okay???

⤷ user102 nope. i just love torturing myself

fallinloveinbooks the matching coats...

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 401 100 others

yourinstagram my love in your heart...

view all 14 292 comments

yourbestfriend answer my calls, yn !!!

⤷ yourinstagram i won't tell you

harrystyles ...my heart in your palm

hArrysbtch I LOVE THE SOFT LAUNCH

hArrysbtch PARENTS

harrysmoustache i love how we all know that this is harry but at the same time it doesn't have to be

⤷ hArrysbtch it better be! this post just cured all my mental problems

fallinloveinbooks the caption... is it the title?

⤷ user102 look at harry's comment, it might be a main thing in her next novel/short story collection

⤷ hArrysbtch the inspiration sparked and inspiration was harry. that's it. when it's published i can die happily

⤷ user102 decide, that or harry voicing Emrys

⤷ hArrybtch im chronically online, don't require any consistency from me

harryupdates vacation in a small irish town birthed some masterpiece, i just know it

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a/n: i have part 2 made in my mind already. do we want more of them?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles instagram #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fluff #book writer!reader

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whiskeyghoul · 6 months

Text

Coloring pages || [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A/N: This has been stuck in my mind for weeks now and I needed to put it down. This is the first fic I had proof read by someone! Enjoy and please like and reblog when you do.

Tags: Fluff, tooth rotting fluff, just fluff, coloring pages, spencer reid x gn!reader I think.

You stood outside of the Quantico building, leaning against the side of your car. The air had the early autumn chill, it wasn't cold but your oversized sweater sure made it a lot more bearable to be outside of the car for an extended period. You were waiting for your date to be finished with his work. Boyfriend. You corrected yourself internally. Boyfriend of 6 weeks, 3 days and 5 hours to be exact. Which, with Spencer as your boyfriend you had to be.

He is handsome, kind and so incredibly intelligent it is sometimes just a tad frustrating. His rambles were interesting and you could probably listen to him for hours on end. You also wanted to spend time together just enjoying each other's company. Being together, that was your type of love. The affirming touches that the other was there. The comfortable silence you enjoyed so much where you could hear soft intakes of breaths. Glances at one another to confirm that the other was still there. You loved when Spencer had invited you over to his apartment once, he still had some work to finish so you'd picked up a book from the many shelves and made yourself comfortable on his worn couch. You had looked up from the book and over to him, seen him deep in thought as he looked at the lines of writing, jotting down notes next to it. His brow slightly furrowed, lips pursed ever so slightly as he thought particularly hard. Completely unaware of your admirations of him from the couch. That's what you liked.

People began filing out of the building as the sun set, you watched and watched to catch the first sign of Spencer. When you did see that messy brown hair bounce slightly as he walked down the steps a smile spread across his face. You mirrored his expression, every time you saw him it brought a smile to your lips. A gust of wind picked up, ruffling his hair even further as he bound over his long strides causing him to stand before you in, what felt like, mere seconds. "Hey." He said softly. His hand reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear that had been swept up by the wind. His fingertip grazed the side of your temple. "Hi." You returned just as softly. "How was work?" You asked as you looked into those big, brown eyes. They were filled with warmth as he looked into yours. "It was good, no new cases which I was hoping for since I wanted to see you." Spencer spoke his emotions as he pulled his hand away. "Good, because I have something planned." You said with a smile, turning on your heels and walking back to the driver's side.

"You have something planned?" Spencer asked as he quickly dove into the passenger seat. Tucking his bag between his feet. "I do." You say as you put the seatbelt on, feeling his eyes on your profile. "Can I know?" He asked, impatiently tapping his fingers against his thighs, an air of excitement surrounding him. "Not yet. It's a surprise." Your voice sounds melodic, sing-song-y even, on the last sentence as you turned the key and started up the car. "Tell me more about your day." You say as the music over the speakers softly filled the car and the heater worked to warm your cold tinged hands.

Spencer had talked about his day, you were intermittently interrupting him with questions before he asked about your day. You were still going on about a coworker who had annoyed you when you parked the car in front of your destination. The bookstore and café combo where you had your first date. You got out and quickly snatched the tote bag you had haphazardly laid on the backseat before turning back to Spencer. "The bookstore? Why are we here?" He looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes playfully and put the tote bag over your shoulder. "Because we're going for coffee." You answered and held out your hand which he took. You saw his eyes dart towards the tote bag, that soft crease between his eyebrows forming as he pictured all the possibilities of what its contents could be. “Coffee at 5 P.M.? You know that feeling unaffected by caffeine could be a sign of a genetic difference or you have built an increasingly large tolerance. This could be a problem once you start ingesting dangerous amounts of caffeine unbeknownst to you.” Spencer rambled as you entered the coffee shop. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I’ll get a tea then.” you say as you get hit by the smell of fresh brewed coffee, pastries and books. There was music softly playing in the background. The shop was warm.

Pulling Spencer along to the table where your first date had been, you sat down, shedding your fall jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair. The tote bag was placed on the table, only a slight peak of its contents spilling out. Spencer’s eyes darted to it, wanting to know what you had planned and why you were being so secretive. Quickly, your hand found its way to cover the contents, pressing the tote bag shut. “After we get our drinks.” You teased, there was a sparkle in your eyes, seeing him this interested in what you were planning made it all the more fun to keep him in the dark.

“Really? Can’t you just tell me?” Spencer questioned, giving you the most pleading eyes he could muster in that moment, you were surprised he didn’t pout at you. Just then the waitress came over, taking your coffee and tea orders before walking back behind the bar. When you had looked at her Spencer seemed to have taken his chance and snuck a peek inside of the bag, before you knew it he was pulling out a set of colored pencils. “Spencer!” You admonished playfully, snatching the colored pencils out of his hand and sticking them back in the bag. “What? I was just curious.” He played innocent, giving that sweet smile he knew made you weak. “You brought colored pencils?” He tilted his head slightly, his soft curls falling away from his face. You reached out across the table, tucking a stray curl behind his ear like he had done with you before, “I did.” Your answer came with a soft sigh before folding the tote bag slightly open and pulling out the matching set of colored pencils and a book of coloring pages. “I guess the cat is out of the bag.”

“Why did you bring coloring pages?” Spencer looked confused at the book, flipping through the blank pages filled with outlines of forest scenes and insects. An amused smile on his lips, “Aren’t we too old for that?” He asked, his tone was a slight teasing one. You know he didn’t mean it to be hurtful at that moment, but still he didn’t seem as excited about it as you were. You bit your lip, holding back the twinge of disappointment that shot through your heart.

“I thought it would be fun to do something together. It’s not a children's coloring book, but you know… I wanted to work on a page together, so we have something we both did.” Your voice had an edge to it, the disappointment you tried to hide still managed to bubble its way to the top. It felt horrible, that such a little thing could make this big of an impact. Your hands fidgeted with the end of your sweater, picking at the sleeve with a hint of defeat. Eyes cast down on the table. “Woah, hey, wait no I- I didn’t mean anything bad- I just-” Spencer stumbled over his words, quickly reaching his hand across the table to hold yours. Moving his thumb soothingly across the back of your hand. “If you want to, we will. It looks fun. Really.” He corrected himself, his eyes finding yours. You could see the hint of regret at his earlier words, his sincerity in his current ones. The disappointment still lingered, but the warmth from his hand was quickly spreading through your body to wash away any doubt. “Really?” You asked again, wanting the extra confirmation. You attempted a smile, it was half hearted still but at least it was somewhat reassuring to yourself. “Really, I just get to pick what we’re working on.” Spencer smiled back, giving your hand a soft squeeze before letting go to pick up the book again.

You watched Spencer flip through, taking a quick look at the different pages until he found one to his liking. Placing the book open on the table, a flowery field with butterflies and bumble bees. “This one.” he said, looking to you for confirmation like he could make the wrong choice. “That’s perfect.” Your voice was soft, still trying to get over the disappointment from before. It was nearly gone, leaving you with mostly warmth in your heart. You grabbed the two sets of colored pencils, opening them, and setting them out on the table. Just then your drinks were brought out, a chai latte for you after Spencer’s comment about caffeine, he still had a cappuccino which made you smile a bit. You handed a set of pencils to Spencer before picking up your chai and taking a tentative sip. It was hot but delicious.

“Alright, so how do we start?” Spencer asked, looking at the page then back at you. “I want to color it together. You can start over on your side, I start on mine, meet in the middle?” You said, placing your cup back down. “Won’t it be mismatched? should we at least have the same color green for the stems?” He suggested, suddenly seeming a bit more into it than he had been before. “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. The same blue for the sky too?” You added, opening your own set of pencils. You picked out a blue, matching it with one from Spencer's set. He did the same with the green, handing you the matching pencil with a smile. “Let’s get coloring then.” He said before turning his attention to the paper. You followed suit, touching the colored pencil to the paper and began to fill in the white space.

You kept picking up pencils, filling in the flowers with different colors, sometimes your hand would meet with Spencer’s while drawing and he’d look up with a smile. Soft bumps and touches that affirmed you were both there. Light chuckles and laughter with your coloring interrupted by each other. Your heart fluttered at how he had thrown all his earlier judgment aside to make you happy. Looking up he was focused, smiling at the paper as he decided what colors would fit best. Sometimes asking for your opinion. Intermittently his drawing was interrupted by sips of coffee. Wiping the residue off of his lips with his sleeve before going back to the page. The way he was focused was cute, hairs falling in front of his eyes, a grin on his face as he gave in to the childlike whimsy of doing a coloring page. It was refreshing to see him with his shoulders relaxed, focusing on anything but words. Letting the surrounding sounds of the shop take over. Slowly you felt yourself be more and more focused on Spencer rather than the drawing. Once he noticed, he looked up, the smile still plastered on his face, “What?” he laughed out the question. One of the more beautiful sounds you’ve heard, though you wouldn’t tell him that. You shook your head no, laughing softly “Nothing.” You answered with a genuine smile. “There’s something.” Spencer pushed, still smiling, holding back the laughter that bubbled up inside of him. “You looked very focused, that’s all.” You answered, shrugging nonchalantly before you finished up your drink that had gone lukewarm from the amount of time you had been sitting there. “Well, so did you. Just not on the coloring anymore.” Spencer teased, making a blush creep to your cheeks. Biting your tongue to hold back from throwing out a retort that would have been completely unnecessary.

Your eyes cast down to the coloring page, it was almost completely filled with your combined efforts of removing every spot of white. It was beautiful to you, a bit messy but that made it perfect. Spencer looked down too, regarding the page with a certain air of pride. “I think we should frame it.” he spoke up. Your eyes darted back to his face, to see if he was joking or if it was serious. His expression was relaxed, no sign of any funny business. “Why?” You asked, a hint of confusion in your voice this time around. “It’s the first thing we made together.” His words made your heart skip a beat, the way he was so sincere had such an effect on you. “We’ll have to make another for my place then.” you answered. “Or you’ll just have to come over by my place more often to see it.” Spencer smiled, his words a thinly veiled excuse to see you in his home, to have you over, spend time together.

You smiled, quickly leaning over the table to steal a kiss after he finished his sentence. “I’d like that a lot.”

#Fluff #oneshot #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #Spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fluff oneshot

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querenciasturniolo · 9 months

Text

strange ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: lots of inner monologue, awkwardness, swearing, corniness, she/her pronouns

summary: request

a/n: this was requested again by the lovely @rainsoakedphoenix!!! this was super fun, and i had the idea to write it from chris’ point of view (still second person pov), so hopefully it works 🤞🏻

(this fic has jokes written in it about “chris having a crush on matt” bc of how prominent the jokes are in the fandom, but it doesn’t solely revolve around those jokes)

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

The comments had been going on for ages, and Chris genuinely didn’t know how everyone found out.

the way chris looks at y/n in todays vlog ?

i never would have guessed the girl chris has been talking about is y/n, but honestly the last few vlogs have really swayed me

okay no, but how has this never occurred to me ? i would have thought she’d end up with matt

Sure, he’d always had a hard time hiding his emotions on his face, but surely the fans didn’t really know he had feelings for you. He’d tried to ignore all of the comments about it, until the edits started rolling in. Every other edit on his for you page was the way he looked at you when you weren’t looking, or the way he’d look away when you turned to face him with pink cheeks.

It was his fault, for letting it slip on a live that he had feelings for someone, and of course the fans started sleuthing. It wasn’t like he’d declared his love for you on the top of a building with a megaphone, but the swiftness in which the questioning comments turned into matter-of-fact statements on any vlog you were in or any photo dump you were included in had Chris realizing he really should learn to control his face.

“Have you seen this one?” Matt asked. Chris looked up from his phone and watched Matt’s screen. It was an edit, a few of the clips from Wednesday’s vlog showing how disgustingly enamored he looked with you. Chris groaned and flopped back on Matt’s bed. “Did you read the caption?” Matt asked, his voice sounding as if he was holding back a laugh.

Chris shook his head and mumbled a reply into the pillow, not even understanding himself as Matt read it out loud. “Chris really went from having a crush on Matt to having a crush on the girl equivalent.” Chris pulled the pillow off of his face and glared, Matt’s laughter spilling out of him as he pulled his phone back towards him.

“Don’t laugh at a joke about me having a crush on you, it’s fucking weird.” Chris grumbled. “And she isn’t even that much like you.”

Matt huffed and shrugged his shoulders. “Tell that to the countless comparison edits of the two of us on my for you page.” He retorted, Chris rolling his eyes and sitting up to throw the pillow in his direction. He stood, Matt glancing up from his phone with a frown. “Where are you going?”

He turned. “The living room, your presence is getting on my nerves.” He said, Matt scoffing and turning his attention back to his phone.

Of course he’d seen the comparison edits, how could he not? You were soft spoken, only occasionally getting loud enough when whatever you were talking about was important to you. You were incredibly observant, and never the first person to point something out. All of the fans had said you and Matt were one in the same, which made sense as to how comfortable Chris was around you almost immediately. But it was still odd that the fans said that, because to Chris, you were just…you, and he couldn’t help but catch feelings for you.

In all reality, it hit him like a truck, and it scared the shit out of him. One day, the four of you were hanging out, and then out of nowhere, he had a headache with how fast the realization hit him. Things were different after that, at least for him. It felt as though everything that came out of his mouth directed at you was awkward, and that you could see right through the facade he held up to keep his feelings from you unknown.

You’d continued to be yourself throughout everything, though it worried him that any time the jokes about Chris’ crush on you were brought up, you’d immediately blush and change the topic. He didn’t want to immediately think that you had feelings for him as well, but he also didn’t want to think you didn’t. He didn’t know what he wanted, truthfully. He wanted everything out in the open, but at the same time he didn’t.

Chris groaned and flopped forward on the couch, his groan being muffled by the couch cushions. He stayed like that for a while, ignoring the buzzing on his phone until he heard Nick walking down the stairs.

“Dude, Y/n’s been at the door for like five minutes, why the fuck didn’t you let her in?” He asked, not giving Chris a chance to answer before he descended the second staircase and opened the door. “Sorry about him, he’s in a mood or something.”

Chris heard your quiet reply and the sound of you and Nick climbing the stairs again. He still hadn’t moved from his position on the couch, even when he felt the cushion dip next to him.

“Everything alright?”

His heart rate spiked at the sound of your voice and he shrugged, though it didn’t work well. You laughed softly, and it felt like every nerve was on high alert. He finally pushed himself up and sat next to you, running a hand through his hair before meeting your eyes. You always had a look on your face, like you knew something was bothering him even though he hadn’t said anything.

“How do you do that?” He asked. You frowned.

“Do what?” You asked.

Chris sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “You always know when something is bugging me.” He said. You chuckled and shook your head, your eyebrows raising.

“Chris, I walked in and you were laying face down on the couch. It’s pretty obvious that something is bothering you.” You said, your voice light and teasing.

He blinked and sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Jesus, that was dumb, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s funny. One thing I can tell is that you want to talk to me about it, unless that’s just me being hopeful.” You said, Chris looking over at you. It was true, you were the only person he wanted to talk to about this. He nodded, and he couldn’t help but relax when you adjusted to face him completely, and just watched him patiently.

It took him longer than he was expecting. He usually could say anything without a problem, whether he messed up his words or not, but this was you. He’d never had a problem talking to you about how he was feeling before, but it was near impossible when it directly applied to you.

You hadn’t pushed him, which he was grateful for. You sat right in front of him and waited patiently, nodding your head in encouragement each time he was about to speak, but not reacting when he didn’t. He groaned and threw his head back.

“Jesus, why is this so hard?” Chris mumbled. You shook your head and rested your hand over his, lightly squeezing it.

“Chris, it’s okay. Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” You said, Chris sighing and nodding his head.

He was silent for a few minutes, but eventually met your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Do you wanna, like, go out? On a date?” He asked. You blinked, your face heating up and your heart racing as you processed what he said.

“Like, for real? This isn’t just because of all of the comments?” You asked, Chris smiling shyly and shaking his head.

“Well, the fans were right. I mean, about me liking you.” He said, wringing his hands together in his lap to take attention away from them shaking.

You couldn’t help but smile at him for a moment, looking away when his eyes met yours.

“I didn’t know it was true.” You said, your voice almost a whisper.

Chris glanced over at you, his chest pounding when he realized you hadn’t answered him, and that you couldn’t look at him.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t feel the same. It’s fine, really.” He said, pushing himself off of the couch. He paused when your hand gripped his wrist, looking down to see you grinning up at him. You shook your head and stood, trying your best to keep your eyes on his. It was insane, how someone’s eyes could be so intimidating but so kind and full of love all at once.

“I’d love to, really.” You said, blush traveling from his neck to his face. He cleared his throat and nodded, trying his best to fight off the dorky smile on his face.

“Okay.” He said, his voice quiet.

You chuckled. “Okay.” You repeated awkwardly, Chris’ smile coming in full force. You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his eyes widening slightly when you dropped down to your heels. You smiled at him, entwining your fingers with his.

Your hand fit so well in his, like a puzzle piece. He watched as you looked down at your hands. He ran his thumb over the side of your hand, smiling at the way you looked up at him shyly. He frowned when your eyes lit up and you smiled at him, confusion clouding his face as you lightly bumped his shoulder with yours.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting so strange.”

#chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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