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throughparisallthroughrome · 3 months ago

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"Got The Blues Back In Boston"

Chapter 3

Pairing:Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Description: Leaving behind an incompatible college and profound heartbreak on the Virginia Coast, you find yourself home again in Brookline, Massachusetts. A new opportunity presents itself to you at MIT, joining your brother ben and childhood friends/ neighbors, Anakin and Ahsoka. Despite the familiarity, you discover just how much of a difference 2 years away can really make between the people you once considered family.

Warnings: f!reader, angst, jealousy, pining, smut, masturbation, mentions/descriptions of domestic abuse, cursing, drinking/drug usage, academic obsession, general obsession, hardcore partying, frats, general college bullshit

DISCLAIMER!!! READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: I've never been in an abusive relationship- I've only witnessed them. I'm an aspiring psychology major and have done a lot of research on the topic of domestic abuse/violence. This series deals with this topic HEAVILY, so be warned.

Word Count: 10.2k

A/N: Talk about a dramatic chapter! Very sorry it took so long- I needed it to be perfect! I'm also taking 6 classes and working 2 jobs so finding time to write is impossible. Hope you all enjoy! As always, requests and inbox is completely open and any feedback is always welcome <3

series masterlist. main masterlist.

“Are you sure you’ve been okay?” Watching your anxious movements and the clothes flying from your closet, Padme questioned you with a worried frown, the scent of her perfume light in the air.

"No," you groan, tossing Nick's old Chief’s jersey into the giveaway pile; the faint, lingering scent of his cologne—a mix of sandalwood and something musky—brings a nauseous lump to your throat.

“No, I am not sure.” You sigh, emerging from the closet laden with clothes, and you dramatically toss onto the floor with a soft rustle before falling onto the bed with a contented groan next to Padme. The crisp, cool air from the room, carrying the quiet whisper of the air conditioner, washed over you as you sank into the plush comfort of the bed.

“Have you tried talking to Anakin-“

“Fuck no! Padme, I’m not bringing him into any of this.” You snap, your eyebrows immediately furrowing in guilt.

“I’m just saying. I know he’s sorry.” She mumbles, avoiding your gaze and picking fuzz balls off of her navy blue 100% cashmere sweater.

“I’m sure he is.” You grunt out, laying back down and closing your eyes.

Within the void of your closed eyes, his crystal blue irises shine uninvited, pupils blown wide like twin pools reflecting a familiar landscape, their intense gaze burning into your mind. His lips, swollen and pink, stretched into a smirk, then a slow, deliberate smile, the corners crinkling slightly as his eyes met yours. Your mind reeled; his face, a mere breath from yours, was sharp and clear, each feature etched in your memory, the scent of his cologne filling your senses. Your mind played cruel tricks, magnifying your best friend's attractiveness precisely when it was most inconvenient, making Anakin always seem overwhelmingly irresistible.

Since you were a kid, Anakin felt like a figment of your imagination. It was a persistent, phantom itch- a want you never knew existed, a teasing reminder of something always just out of reach, an ache that lingered and lingered, heavy and subtle. Besides Nick, your thoughts would drift to Anakin as the night deepened, a quiet ache in your heart. Not necessarily sexual, although once in a blue moon, those thoughts did take over (in which you proceeded to keep him out of your mind for as much as possible for at least a month, unable to cope with the guilt of thinking about him like that while with another man) but it was mainly for the company Anakin used to provide you with. The safety. The reassurance. The way you knew you’d always be okay and loved.

But, like you said, he was dead to you.

And he indeed was.

Following your argument, it had been 5 ½ weeks of sleepless nights. Five and a half weeks of silence stretched between them, broken only by strained family dinners where his guilt-ridden gaze burned into yours, making your knuckles whiten around your fork as you desperately avoided his eyes, the silence heavy with unspoken words and palpable tension. It had been 5 ½ grueling weeks of every single person you loved telling you to “just talk to him” and “I’m sure he had good intentions.” To put it simply- 5 ½ weeks of loneliness and pure. fucking. torture.

Every excuse, worn thin from overuse, had fallen on your ears, a dull, repetitive drone of empty apologies. Every exaggeration. Every possible explanation and motive and- You’d had enough. Of course, you missed him. Of course, you didn’t want to do this. But you felt as if you had no other option. He hurt you when he had never hurt you before, and you honestly didn’t know how to cope. And everyone’s words- who barely knew the scale of what he said (or the people he said it to)- hurt just as much as his betrayal.

And they didn’t know that hurt. They had no idea how much this tore you up inside. But you were slipping. The days passed you by; you called out of work frequently, you spent hours in bed rewatching cheesy sitcoms that took you away from the harsh reality that was your life, and you were so utterly behind in your classes that your mind swirled with thoughts of dropping them and quitting college altogether. And you assumed no one noticed the slight tremble in your voice, the way your smile didn't quite reach your eyes, that you were a little sad, but convinced yourself things would figure themselves out, that you had nothing to worry about.

But oh, did they all notice.

A groupchat was made without you (and Anakin) and consisted of your brother, his sister, Padme, and both sets of parents. There was constant speculation and conversation about what was going on. How they would handle this situation as spectators. Truthfully, a conflict like this had never happened, and no one knew what to do. Thus, the groupchat came into existence. Initially, the approach was to let you both figure it out, assuming you would reconcile at some point soon. But at 4 weeks, with the deteriorating state of both you and Anakin, they knew that something needed to be done.

And that was the other thing- You had no clue how poorly Anakin was doing. He wasn’t dealing with this on top of the trauma of an abusive relationship, but he was hurting.

Ben noticed the dark circles under his best friend's eyes and the flatness of his usually vibrant voice, signs of exhaustion. He grew more peculiar when Anakin stopped coming to the gym with him in the morning- no text and no call, either. Anakin stayed at work later and picked up more shifts; when he wasn’t at work, he was cramped in some hole in the engineering building, pretending like he could study.

Anakin was a nervous wreck without you. He knew he broke your heart- he knew he ruined your friendship. And he knew that he couldn’t forgive himself, either. Any mention of your name and his heart would instantly drop, his hands shaking as the lump in his throat suddenly returned, unable to be cleared. He could only avoid family dinners for so long, and the first one only justified his anxiety.

Within your unassigned, assigned seats, Anakin sat across from you, his gaze fixed on you as you idly moved your fork around the creamy risotto. The clinking of your fork against the plate was the only sound besides your breathing. The murmur of conversation flowed around the table, a gentle current oblivious to the tension simmering between you two. His eyes bore holes into yours, his gaze unwavering while you attempted to work up an appetite on top of your rage. Your eyes met for a fleeting moment before you dramatically stood, gathering your food and retreating to the privacy of your bedroom. The silence hung heavy in the air. Great, he made a scene. Now, everyone knew.

And, of course, Anakin broke down and told Padmé and Ahsoka after dinner. Which, of course, meant everyone now definitely knew.

“You’re coming to dinner, right?” You mumble out to Padmé, breaking out of your Anakin-filled trance.

“Maybe,” She sighs, patting your thigh and standing up, “I gotta see how much homework I get done tonight. Otherwise, I'll have to skip eating altogether.” You giggle in response, standing beside her and throwing your arms around her frame.

“Well, I’ll see you when I see you. Wish me luck tonight.” You mumble into her hair, and you know she’s rolling her eyes.

“Y/N, you don’t need it.”

“I’m sorry, this is the only seat left. I can eat-“

“No, you won’t, Anakin. Y/N’s gonna sit right next to you.” Your mom interrupts him calmly, taking a small sip of her red wine while nervous glances are thrown around.

The audacity makes your head cock to the left, a silent scoff escaping your slightly parted lips. Then you realize she’s dead serious. A vise-like grip tightened around the countertop as your blurry vision locked onto your mother, the only sharp detail in the hazy room. Anakin's hand trembled as he grasped the cold, sweating beer bottle, the condensation clinging to his skin as he took a long, shaky sip, the silence in the room thick with anticipation.

“Okay, well,” The snarky remark comes out of your mouth a little too quickly as you aggressively grab a plate and start serving yourself, “I’ll just eat up-“

“Y/N, you’re going to sit your ass down at this table right fucking now.”

“Mom-“ You attempted to plead, your throat closing in.

“NOW!” The sharp word sliced through the air as her hand hit the table, the violent sound making everyone jump. Their worried eyes and pleading murmurs were a blur as your tight-lipped frown remained fixed solely on her, the tension palpable. Your breath hitched, your hands slick with sweat, threatening to send the plate clattering to the floor.

You awkwardly took a seat next to Anakin, the chair screeching loudly against the polished spruce flooring as you inched away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. Your mom scoffs at your actions, and your eyes meet Ben’s, filled to the brim with copious amounts of empathy. You turn your head towards Ahsoka, her eyes filled with sorrow as she watches you tremble, silently mouthing, "I'm sorry."

The room was spinning, a dizzying vortex of blurry colors and disorienting sounds. As the air vanished from your lungs, the faces of those you loved swam before your eyes, blurry and distant. You couldn’t move a muscle. You couldn’t even think about eating. You could feel your heart's minute, quickened beat- every diastole and systole increasing in speed as your fingers gripped the side of your chair.

This wasn’t right. You couldn’t be here with him- you couldn’t face him like this. You were weak. You were scared. Everyone could see it- they always knew these things about you. It’s the only reason they’re all looking at you. They pity you. They think you’re a fucking pussy for the way you left and the way you came back. They think you could have put up a better fight. They’re ashamed of you.

On top of everything, there was a familiar tightness within your abdomen—a warmth. Your stomach churned violently as if a storm were brewing within. A cold sweat slicked your palms as your eyes darted around the table; each glance, a fresh wave of unease, threatened to breach the carefully constructed walls of your composure. Your mouth suddenly went dry, and you could feel the metallic taste of bile rising in the back of your throat. Your heart hammered in your chest, a frantic drumbeat against your ribs as the rising bile burned your throat, and you fought to keep it down. The world around you blurred; colors became too vibrant, sounds too sharp. The sound of silverware scraping against ceramic made your eardrums bleed- the crashing waves worsened within your abdomen as each second passed.

And then, the coil snapped. Within seconds and without a thought, you had rushed out of your seat, and your head was in the nearest trash can as your vomit violently wrecked your body for everyone to see. You tuned out what everyone was thinking, your body taking control of your emotions as it poured everything out right next to the salad on the counter.

Your mom lets out a soft sigh, her eyes meeting Anakin’s as she tells him that ‘she tried.’ Truthfully, the idea was Shmi’s, knowing just how wrecked her son was by this, and desperately wanted the conflict between you to end. She didn’t have the heart to execute as well as your mother did, so she left it up to her. Truthfully, it all was a little more harsh than she wanted- and no one else at the table thought it was a good idea.

“Hey-“ Padme walks into the dining room, her brows immediately furrowing upon the noise of your gagging and the room's silence. No one was eating, and the silence that had come over the room was deafening.

“My god,” She saw you in the kitchen and immediately ran to your aid, lifting the hair off your neck and tying it with an elastic that was around her wrist. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” She turns back to the table, watching as they shift uncomfortably in their seats—still, not another word.

But then, Anakin was up. And out the back door.

Padmé frowned upon seeing him leave, hoping he would have done something to help the situation, but she knew it was impossible.

“C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.” She carefully wrapped your arm around your shoulder, lifting you up as Ahsoka followed suit and took the other side.

As the night drew to a close, Padmé and Ahsoka stayed by your side, their gentle words and comforting presence slowly calming the storm within you. The room was dimly lit, with only a soft nightlight casting a warm glow over the space. The air was filled with the scent of lavender from the diffuser on your bedside table, only inducing more nausea as you walked into your bedroom. After getting you up the stairs and into your own bathroom, the girls took turns watching after you. They sought out room-temperature water and crackers, building up to a bagel when you were starting to hold things down.

You chose to ignore the glances they exchanged, instead focusing your attention on the feeling of your stomach. You knew the panic was beginning to leave from within you, but you couldn’t bear to open the bathroom door and face them, knowing that the conversation that was coming would only send you right back to where you were. You shuddered at the thought and squeezed your clammy hands, hoping they’d dry off somehow. With a sigh, you managed to peel yourself off the bathroom floor, pushing yourself onto the side of the bathtub.

As you sat on the edge, the cool porcelain beneath you seemed to steady your racing thoughts. You took a few deep breaths, letting the air fill your lungs slowly, and then exhale just as slowly. The panic was receding, but the dread of facing the two behind that door was unbearable. You knew they would be worried, and their concern would only add to the weight you were already carrying.

After a few moments, you managed to stand up, your legs feeling a bit steadier. You splashed some water on your face, the coolness helping to clear your head. You stared into the mirror, seeing a pale and drawn reflection that was almost translucent; the eyes were sunken, the skin papery, a face you barely recognized. But you knew you couldn't hide in the bathroom forever, so it was added to the pile of things you chose to ignore.

With a newfound resolve, you pushed yourself off the cold porcelain of the tub, the chill seeping into your skin as you opened the door to your dimly lit bedroom. The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only sound as Padmé and Ahsoka's concerned faces leaned in, their expressions mirroring your own anxiety. You swallowed hard, a painful rasping sound echoing in your ears as your throat burned from your activities this past hour. Rising gracefully to her feet, Padme offered a soft, reassuring smile as she wrapped her arms around you.

“It’s okay, Y/N/N,” She pulls you in tighter, letting you bury yourself into her shoulder. You didn’t want to cry, but you felt the familiar pressure behind your eyes.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

After casual conversations about anything other than what happened at dinner, the girls finally left you in your bed to rest. Your mind was reeling from the night, the thoughts swirling around in your head of what they saw, what they thought, what they would be saying. Sure, they were your family. But they talked. They always did. And so you knew that there was a debriefing to be had after tonight, with the exception of you and Anakin involved.

And so your mind drifted back to where it always did- him. Did he feel as poorly as you did? He certainly looked like it. But even looking so sad, he still managed to look so purely Anakin. So ethereal. You wanted to hate him, but the pull towards him was stronger than any resentment, a frustrating mix of anger and attraction. Your energy needed his to survive- to function. In Hampton, it had gotten bad. Without your family and your friends, you were just a ghost. A phantom of who you should have been, pretending to be something you weren’t. And yet, your mind always came back to him. Anakin was a constant, whether you liked it or not. And right now, you fucking despised it.

You threw the covers off with a groan, the springs of the mattress creaking beneath you as you sat up, your head falling heavily into your hands. When would it stop? Reaching into your nightstand drawer, you pulled out a crumpled, half-empty pack of cigarettes, the scent of stale tobacco filling your nostrils. You walked toward the bedroom window overlooking the Skywalker's house, its lights still on. With a creak, the window unlatched, and you pulled yourself up to sit, feeling the cool metal of the frame against your skin. The cold night air bit at your exposed legs as you cupped the lighter, the smell of tobacco and lighter fluid sharp in the stillness, and with each drag of the cigarette, a wave of relief washed over you. The stars were exceptionally bright, bringing a warm smile to your face. But after long, your eyes trailed down and met with a familiar pair of blue ones looking out at you.

Anakin had no shame. The sound of the window opening across the study sent a shiver down his spine; he rose and silently watched you. Oh, how he missed you. But upon his eyes meeting yours, a sudden hush fell, the air thick with unspoken understanding, and you both stood frozen. The cigarette, burning slowly between your fingers, was utterly ignored as your eyes met his, the intensity of the silent longing palpable to everyone but you. You wanted to say something. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw a rock at him. But nothing came out except a small smile towards him as you brought the cigarette back to your lips. And he happily returned it.

The fair lights twinkled around you, making you feel a sense of child-like wonder you hadn't been lucky enough to experience in years while the sounds of screams and laughter filled your ears. You blinked slightly as you felt your lips upturn in a slight smile, the feeling foreign after the past few weeks. Despite everything, there was always the Massachusetts State Fair. And it never failed to cure you.

The present dissolves into memory – you at nine years old, hair in messy pigtails, chasing Anakin and Ahsoka through clouds of cotton candy as your mom called after you to slow down. Even then, Anakin looked at you like you were something magical, something precious. His eyes held the same wonder whether you were covered in dirt from playing tag or dressed up for school pictures. You were just kids then, hearts full of impossible dreams and the certainty that anything was possible. Maybe you'd always been Anakin's dream, but that was a truth you wouldn't understand until much later.

The awkwardness of puberty hit like a tidal wave – sudden and overwhelming. Your body became a stranger, and friendship with boys became complicated in ways you didn't understand. But Anakin remained steadfast, accepting without question when you started gravitating toward Ahsoka instead. You'd catch glimpses of hurt in his eyes when you'd dodge his attempts to hang out, but he never pushed, never demanded. Even then, he knew how to love you from a distance.

He found ways to remind you he was still there, still your Anakin. You'd open your backpack to find your favorite candy bars tucked between notebooks, placed there with ninja-like stealth. In quiet moments, when your eyes would accidentally meet across the cafeteria, he'd cross his eyes or stick out his tongue until you couldn't help but smile. Always careful not to overwhelm, but refusing to let you forget that someone saw you, and understood you, even in the midst of your self-imposed exile.

It was the same pattern you were living now, you realized – you pushing him away, him finding ways to love you anyway. Some things never changed, even when everything else did.

With the scream of a nearby child, sounding like they were possessed by something supernatural, caught your attention- you were suddenly back to reality. And Anakin wasn’t there to make faces at you or ask if you were okay. That absence hit like a physical thing, a phantom limb you couldn't stop reaching for. You found yourself half-turning, mouth already open with a joke he would have appreciated, before remembering. But instead, you were dodging past people in a crowd, attempting to follow Ahsoka to whatever destination she was taking you. You never really thought to ask, but now your stomach was growling, and you were getting a little annoyed (especially since your thoughts continued to betray you).

“Ahsoka, where the hell are we even going?” You grunted slightly, pushing past a guy who had accidentally bumped your shoulder when you walked past. The fairground feels bigger somehow, more overwhelming without Anakin's steady presence beside you, without his hand ready to guide you through the chaos or his height to help navigate.

“It’s just- we’re almost there.” She mumbled back, pushing ahead more eagerly as you struggled to catch up. You huffed slightly, exhaling through your nose as you grew more claustrophobic by the second. Usually, he'd notice by now, would create a barrier between you and the press of bodies, would distract you with terrible jokes or random observations. But he's not here, and that's your own doing.

When you made it out of the crowd, you huffed in annoyance at the sight. Slushies? She led you to the other side of the fairgrounds for a fucking slushie?

“Ahsoka, really-“

“Before you say anything-“ She turned around, an evil smile on her face, “These are the best slushies ever. And- and I wanted to tell you about someone.”

You quirked a brow. Ahsoka never talked about someone.

“Someone?” You inquired, following her into the line, your teasing tone catching the blush on her cheeks as she turned away. “Not sure I’ve ever heard the Ahsoka Skywalker discuss a someone.”

“Y/N/N,” She whined, turning around, “He’s incredible.” The giggle that escapes you is genuine, a moment of lightness breaking through the heavy cloud that's been following you all evening.

“Incredible? I gotta meet him.”

“His name is Cal, he’s in my program.” She turned away upon saying his name, embarrassed to meet your eyes. Your eyes lit up.

“Cal… Kestis?” You prodded, and she turned back to meet your gaze, her face pale.

“Yeah…”

“Oh my god, that’s so funny. Of course, it’s Kestis.” You giggled out, and she wasn’t amused, raising a fearful brow at your words, “Cal lives in the library. I’ve talked to him quite a few times. Padmé and I were actually thinking of setting him up with you. He’s a good kid, Ahsoka. Stupidly smart. But no wonder his visits have been dwindling lately…” You trailed off, and she dropped her jaw.

“AreYouSerious!!” She blurted out, practically jumping from excitement, “I swear I’ve never had a crush like this before. I feel ridiculous all the time. Why do I care what a man thinks about me- but he is all I can think about. I had to tell someone I was going crazy!” She hears the voice clear from the man behind her, “Oh uh- blue raspberry, please!”

A heartwarming giggle escaped your lips at the sight of her smitten face, so full of joy. You waited off to the side of the stand, hands shoved deep in your pockets, as the wind picked up and the temperature plummeted unexpectedly. A gust of wind whips your hair across your face as she approaches, a slushie clutched in her hand, and your smile, despite the cold, spreads as you see her own.

“Do you know if Padme’s coming? I know she mentioned it this morning.” You walked with Ahsoka mindlessly towards the covered (and heated) picnic tables in the distance.

“Don’t think so- apparently, Dr. Moore had a breakthrough with their case this morning, and she’s needed.” Ahsoka managed to get out in between sips, practically skipping ahead of you to the table. You huff in annoyance at her response, attempting to walk your freezing legs faster towards the tables.

“I see.” You slide in on the closest side of the picnic table, your back to the rest of the fair, and you quirk a brow at Ahsoka as she checks her phone. “Kestis?” You wiggle your eyebrows, and she rolls her eyes.

“Not quite. Anakin.” Your face falls.

“Well, so tell me about Kestis.” You shift slightly in your seat, eager to get the bad taste out of your mouth at the mention of his name. How you missed him.

“Well,” Ahsoka attempts to hide the blush of her cheeks, but it’s obvious she’s been waiting for someone to bring him up, “So, we take Organic Chemistry together- I noticed him in class on my first day but was too scared to approach him. It was kinda funny, though; we were the only ones in class who’d answer questions, and he kinda irritated me- he always tried to be better than me at everything! At least, it seemed like it. Anyway, all that stopped when my professor assigned us to work on our project together. And I don’t know- we just- the second we started talking, we hit it off. We have the same major, same research interests, and what I’m lacking in knowledge- he knows, and it’s the other way around, too. So not only do I find him insanely attractive- but we have so much in common.”

It sounded like Ahsoka was speaking a million miles a minute- but you caught every word.

“And do you think he feels the same way? Have you made a move yet?” You leaned forward inquisitively, your smile never leaving. You were just happy to have something to talk about other than family.

“Well, so that’s where it gets complicated…”

“Ahsoka, don’t tell me you haven’t made a move.”

“Well…” You shake your head.

“Girl. Come on.”

“Y/N, it’s complicated!” She whines, leaning forward and putting her head on the table in shame. “I mean, he could have anyone-”

“Of course, he could! And so could you! And ‘Soka, there’s so much to love about you. I’m sure he feels the same way. Have you been avoiding him?” You squint your eyes at her accusingly, and her lack of eye contact tells you exactly what you need to know.

“Listen, you guys have to spend a lot of time together anyway. Forced proximity. For starters, you need to stop avoiding him, or nothing will ever happen- no matter how nervous he makes you. You’re sending the wrong signals. And second, you can absolutely wait it out if that makes you more comfortable. Maybe give him the chance to ask him first. But if I were you, by the end of the project, preferably before then, I’d ask him out! The worst he can say is no.”

“Okay… fine.” She hums, laying her head back down on the table and sighing. “Maybe I’ll ask him out soon.”

Her eyes widened slightly as she cleared her throat, searching for a topic to discuss. You cock your head, confusion evident on your face as Ahsoka's internal panic rises, a silent scream trapped in her chest. The change in her demeanor is so sudden it's almost comical – almost.

“What?” You question her, nervously laughing.

“Nothing! Just-” She attempts to distract you, but it’s too late.

‘What the fuck.” You mumble as you turn your head around, your eyes instantly meeting Anakin’s. Of course. Of course, they planned this.

“Y/N, listen-” Ahsoka attempts, but Ben shuts her down, putting his hand up.

“Y/N, before you say anything-”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“I invited us-” Ben tries again, attempting to calm you down from the meltdown he saw approaching quicker than he thought.

“Did you know about this?” You whip your head around towards Ahsoka, your once warm smile replaced with a scowl.

‘Listen-”

“So you did! So you were just telling me about Cal to distract me?”

“Y/N-” Ben's voice takes on that pleading tone you hate.

“Who’s Cal?” Anakin interjects, and Ben slaps his arm to shut him up as you give him a glare that could melt steel.

‘Okay. Cool. I’m leaving.”

“Y/N, stop! You’re being ridiculous. We wanna enjoy the fair like we always do. It isn’t fair to us to bring whatever’s going on between you and Anakin into this. We’re all family here- and you’re being selfish.” Ben’s words cut you like a knife, and you avoided Anakin’s gaze as you stared daggers into your brother.

“Ben-”

“Y/N. Please act like an adult and get over it. At least for tonight.” The plea in Ben's voice makes you turn to Ahsoka, finding the same desperate hope in her eyes. You exhale slowly, feeling the fight drain out of you.

“Fine-” Ahsoka squeals and hugs you, a muffled thank you heard against your chest. Your eyes hesitantly meet Anakin’s- to which he offers a small smile. You don’t reciprocate.

As you all start walking, you and Ahsoka take the lead, with the guys following behind. You try to focus on Ahsoka's chatter, but Anakin's stare burns into your back like a brand. The weight of his gaze is suffocating, a constant reminder of his presence that makes your skin prickle with awareness. The fact that he was doing this in front of Ben – your brother, his best friend – was beyond you, but you didn’t want to think about it. You couldn’t. You make the appropriate noises as Ahsoka talks, guilt gnawing at you as you hear the genuine joy in her voice, but you can't catch a single word. The steady rhythm of his footsteps behind you drowns out everything else, each step a reminder of what you're trying so hard to forget.

“Ben, look!” Ahsoka pointed towards something you didn’t quite catch before it was suddenly just you and Anakin. That bitch.

“Trying to win your pretty lady a prize?” The question cuts through the tension, making you both spin around. The carnival worker stands there, baseball in hand, gesturing to the pyramid of bottles with a knowing smirk that makes your blood boil.

“He-” You start to correct him, but Anakin's already moving.

“Absolutely,” he says, the word dripping with confidence as he strides forward and takes the ball. Your protest dies in your throat as you watch him settle into that familiar athletic stance– the one that reminds you of countless summer games, of cheering from bleachers for Ben and Anakin with the rest of your family. The one that had you weak in the knees, unable to squeak out a single word.

Anakin's perfectly aimed baseball smashed the glass, the sound of a sudden, violent crash that had you jumping before you could even begin to speak, a shower of glittering shards raining down in front of you. Those baseball seasons in between football had truly paid off for him. The rage built inside you—how dare he entertain that man’s words and win you a prize like nothing had happened?— but the sight of his joyful smile, the crinkles around his eyes, warmed your heart instantly, and between your legs, despite your best efforts to stay cold.

He gestures grandly at the prize wall, where stuffed animals hang in a rainbow array under buzzing fluorescent lights. Your hand trembles slightly as you reach for a modest teddy bear, but Anakin's voice stops you.

“No, sweetheart, I won you something off the top.” The endearment slides off his tongue so naturally it hurts. You rolled your eyes, pointing towards a BMO stuffed animal at the top as Anakin’s smile widened. With a decisive movement, the man yanked the object from the hook and thrust it into your hands. You glared back at Anakin as you held BMO tightly.

“Not gonna say thank you?” He teased as you walked away from him.

‘Not a chance.” you mutter, trying to ignore how your heart stutters when he laughs. Then you spot Ben and Ahsoka ahead, and fresh irritation floods your system. God, how you wanted to kill them right now. Their matching raised eyebrows at your new prize only fuel your annoyance – and Anakin's insufferably smug expression.

“Don’t.” You grumble out while Anakin flashes them both a smile.

“Ooooookay- Gravitron?” Ahsoka raises her eyebrows at you as you say it, and you groan.

For years, they tried to get you on that ride. And for years, you said no. The sheer drop below and the ominous creaks of the machine made it impossible—no way in hell you'd get on that thing. A cold dread washed over you at the thought; your skin prickled, your stomach twisting into knots. It turned into an inside joke—a test of wills, really—to see who could push your buttons and get a reaction.

“Guys, she doesn’t have to get on it if she doesn’t want to.” Anakin’s words hit your chest hard. Fuck. Now you’d have to do it. With a jolt, you whip your head around to face him, that cocky smile still on his puffy pink lips, a smug glint in his eyes.

“Obviously, they fucking know that, Anakin.” You retort, before facing back to Ahsoka and Ben, “And you guys are lucky. This is the year.”

A gasp escaped Ahsoka's lips at your words, immediately followed by a squeal of delight; she leaped into the air before tackling you in an exuberant hug. Finally, she wouldn’t have to ride it alone. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you followed closely behind the three of them as they filed into the line, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of sweat. As you watched the ride spin wildly, the metallic screech of its machinery grating on your ears, a familiar unease settled deep in your stomach. This wasn’t going to end well.

You looked around cautiously, your hands like a vise on the slick metal railings, the cold seeping into your bones. The line inched forward, a slow and sweaty process that had you constantly switching your grip and wiping your hands on your jeans. You had long tuned out of the conversation in front of you- your ears attempting to drown out the sound of Anakin’s voice, as well as the screams and creaks from the ride before you. Above you,, the screams seem to pierce straight through your skull. You desperately tried to convince yourself the sounds were screams of joy, but the sickening lurch in your stomach and the terrifying thudding of your heart screamed otherwise.

Ten minutes. That's what the sign said. Ten minutes to talk yourself out of this, to watch the massive steel structure looming larger with every reluctant step. You catch yourself counting the people ahead of you again—seventeen, sixteen if that couple, chattering away, lets their friend cut in line. Not nearly enough to justify turning back now, especially not after what Anakin said. There was no turning back.

“How many?” The man ahead startles you from your thoughts, your shaky hands slowly leaving the cold, damp railing as you watch Ahsoka’s confident stride as she speaks to the man before effortlessly sitting next to Ben. Four people could fit on the ride; two sat on each side, leaving little room to move around. That left you with Anakin. But before you had time to protest, the man was rushing you along and into the seat. You quickly buckled your seatbelt, the rough nylon straps digging slightly into your skin, before he returned. When the man came back from the other side, his touch lingered a bit too long as he double-checked the tightness around your waist before pulling away with a slight smile, prompting a furious glare from Anakin.

“Try that one more time, you fucking asshole.” Anakin practically growled, sending the attendant scurrying away. But you were already too deep in your rising panic to care, your mind fixating on the height, the inevitable drops, and the way the seat seemed to wobble with every breath.

“Are you okay?” You finally turned to face him, gulping slightly upon meeting his eyes before giving him a quick nod. You couldn’t speak- your mouth felt glued shut. His brows furrowed, and he grabbed your hand without asking. “Y/N, do you need to get off? I need you to talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me- and we don’t have much time.”

Again, you were frozen. Before you could process his words, the ride began its slow ascent, a low hum vibrating through the platform, and you let out a small whine—though quiet, it wasn't quiet enough to escape Anakin's ears. A soft curse fled his lips before his fingers clamped down on your freezing hand, his gaze unwavering.

Your stomach lurches as the ride begins to tilt upward. The world shifts on its axis, the ground falling away at a sickening angle. Each second sends a shudder through your body. The air feels too thin up here. Why is the air so thin? The pressure on your chest is immense; you force a breath through your nose, wincing as the tightness causes a sharp pain. You know Anakin’s talking to you—his reassurances dissipate into the thin air, leaving only the faint scent of sweat as you try to calm yourself- stubbornly refusing his help despite your desperate need. As the ride twists you upside down, your whines grow louder, a feeling of weightlessness washing over you.

You gasped, "An-", the breath knocked from your lungs as the ride jolted into reverse, spinning you wildly through the air, a terrifying carousel of screams and laughter filled your senses. A scream, your name torn apart by the wind, is the last thing you hear before the world dissolves into an inky black, your hand falling limp from his.

Your eyes flutter open slightly, meeting a bright light from the fair’s medical staff- the nausea in your stomach worsening suddenly. Your eyes stung as you blinked harshly and turned away from the medic with a groan, your gaze locking with Anakin's concerned eyes. He stood next to Ahsoka, arms crossed, jaw tight, and a scowl etched on his face as he glared, staring daggers at the medic. Ben knelt before you, head bent in concern, as the medic worked. He sighs, a deep sound of exhaustion, standing and offering a calloused hand.

“She’s fine- just adrenaline.” The medic shuts the light off, putting it in his back pocket, “Happens to the best of us.” He shoots Anakin an I Told You So glare, which Anakin happily returns. He pushes past the worker and towards you as you stand with Ben’s help.

“You scared me. Are you okay?” His eyes scan your body, and you huff in annoyance, rolling your eyes and ignoring him.

“Can we just get on the Ferris wheel?” The words come out small and tired as you latch onto Ben's arm, using him as both shield and support. You deliberately keep your eyes forward as you pass Anakin, but you can feel his presence like a physical weight at your back. Ahsoka's sympathy for him radiates off her in waves as he jogs to catch up, and you hate how well you can picture his defeated shrug without even looking.

“Ben, are you sure that’s-” Anakin starts, concern threading through his voice.

“Anakin, it’s fine.” Ben pleads, but there's something loaded in Ben's tone, a weight to his words that makes Anakin narrow his eyes in suspicion. But you're too exhausted to decode their silent conversation.

The betrayal hits when you reach the front of the line. Ahsoka moves like a dancer, gracefully slipping in front of you to claim the seat beside Ben before you can react. The metallic clang of the safety bar dropping feels like a prison sentence. Your mouth opens to protest, but she cuts you off with a look that's equal parts determination and apology.

“This is for your own good, Y/N/N.” She mumbles out and you’re frozen in place. Her words float down as the wheel lifts them away, leaving you stranded with the one person you can't face right now. You stand shocked, mind racing for an escape route that doesn't exist.

“Y/N, come on.” Anakin huffs out, grabbing your arm as you attempt to yell and pulling you into the cart next to him. His grip on your arm is firm but gentle as he guides you. The familiar warmth of his touch sends electricity up your spine, and you hate how your body still responds to him. With Anakin’s decisive nod to the employee, he pulls down the rail, the metallic clang echoing as the lever is pulled, sending you both into the air.

“What the fuck is your problem, Anakin-”

“Please, Y/N, for the love of God, what is it going to take? You gotta help me out here. This hurts-”

“And how the fuck do you think I feel!” You raise your voice at him, and the words explode out of you- anger mixing with vertigo as the wheel carries you higher. At this point, you were slightly thankful he started the argument, feeling the nausea rise in your stomach again. Why did you want to get on this again? Out of the corner of your eye, you see the ground shrink away below, and you suddenly remember why getting on this thing was a terrible idea.

“Fuck! I know! Please say anything else. Something I don’t already know.” He pleads, attempting to grab your hands as you snatch them away- but his brows instantly furrow and his expression shifts instantly from hurt to concern.

“Y/N, you’re freezing.” He begins to shuffle off his jacket, and you roll your eyes, scooching away from him.

“Anakin, I’m-”

“No, you’re fucking not!” He shuts you up, wrapping the jacket around your shoulders, “Your fingertips are purple. I know you have poor circulation. Stop fucking lying to me.” You go quiet at his words, your body stiff as you put your arms through the sleeves of his giant jacket. His familiar scent envelops you, and you hate how safe it makes you feel.

“You should stop being nice to me, Anakin.” You mumble out, your voice barely above a whisper. His laugh is sharp and bitter, cutting through the night air.

“You’ve been acting like a fucking child, Y/N. You’ll always be my best friend. I’m not just going to stop caring about you because you’re mad at me.”

“Well, you should.” He scoffs and turns away, looking out at the fairgrounds below the two of you.

“It’s so beautiful tonight.” He finally whispers, not able to face you. The sting of your words lingered as a painful reminder of your indifference, making the thought of you witnessing his tears—in that moment—intolerable. The fairground lights blur below, a kaleidoscope of color that feels like it's mocking the mess he’s made of everything.

A sigh escapes your lips at his words; you clutch his jacket closer, the rough fabric a familiar comfort as you peer over the edge, the dizzying height making your head spin. The uneasy feeling in your stomach subsided, replaced by the sharp pangs of hunger. You needed some ice cream. Or a fucking turkey leg. The moment the cart lurched to a stop, you tossed the heavy metal bar aside, your heart pounding, before jumping down and racing to your brother and Ahsoka. At this point, you didn’t care about them leaving you with him. This entire fucking night was a mess. You just needed food.

You surged forward, the smell of bodies and sweat heavy as you elbowed your way past others, heaven's radiant glow beckoning you forward. Turkey legs. Your body practically shook in anticipation, your smile widening, and you continued your trek toward the stand, ignoring the sound of everyone calling out for you to slow down as they followed. The scent grew stronger with each step – a smoky perfume that made your mouth flood with saliva. Through the dense crowd, you could see the massive drums slowly rotating, each one laden with enormous turkey legs glistening under heat lamps.

Behind you, your friends' voices grew more distant– something about "slow down" and "it’ll mess up your stomach"– but their words were meaningless in the face of your sudden quest. The vendor's awning loomed closer, red and white stripes became a beacon of salvation for you. Steam rose in fragrant clouds from beneath it, carrying hints of garlic, smoke, and pure culinary ecstasy (This was definitely the hunger talking). And at this point, you thought you might cum from the first bite. Your fingers already itched to grip that paper-wrapped handle, to feel the weight of what was surely going to be the best turkey leg in your entire fucking life.

The rest of them finally caught up to you in line, panting and red-faced from their impromptu chase through the fairground crowds. Ahsoka was practically doubled over, hands on her knees, while Ben just looked unamused with your actions.

"For fuck’s sake," Ahsoka wheezed, straightening up and wiping sweat from her forehead. "You can't just... bolt off like that... in a crowd this size."

Their worries about what Ben would call "proper fair etiquette" were completely ignored. You were too focused on the prize ahead, the heavenly scent of smoked meat filling your nostrils and making your stomach growl loud enough to compete with the nearby rides. After everything you endured- everything they made you endure- you deserved this. And right now, despite everything (including Anakin), you had a one-track mind, and that track led straight to poultry paradise. Frankly, their ability to keep up at all was impressive, given how you'd weaved through the crowd like it was nothing.

So you eagerly pushed ahead with the four of them in tow, your excitement practically vibrating through the air as the line inched forward, a low hum of anticipation building around you. With painstaking care, the vendor selected and wrapped each turkey leg, causing your stomach to fight harder than before. Your fingers drummed a restless rhythm against your thigh as you ignored them, the savory aroma already painting a vivid picture of that first bite in your mind. But Anakin, with his usual opportunistic grin, had other plans; a selfish, ambitious plot was already forming. He was already past you, the familiar glint of trouble in his eyes, before the event even registered in your mind: a sudden rush of movement and the scent of his cologne.

Anakin moved with the grace of someone who'd made an art form out of getting his way. One moment, he was behind you- the next, he was sliding past with a casual "let me just..." that died in his throat when he caught your expression. But he didn't stop. Of course, he didn't stop. That wasn't the Skywalker Anakin way.

You were beyond sick of this "I'm just going to push in front of her" trend that both Skywalkers had started- but this incident specifically put you over the edge. There was practically smoke coming out of your ears. And it bubbled up hot and fast in your chest, drowning out even the mouthwatering aroma of the turkey legs. Your hands clenched into fists, knuckles white, as you watched Anakin's back; his casual lean against the counter, a picture of infuriating nonchalance, sent your blood pressure soaring. He knew exactly what he was doing – they all did, judging by the way Ahsoka and Ben were suddenly very interested in discussing the nearby balloon dart game.

"Hey!" you snapped, your voice carrying over the general fair noise with enough edge to make a few people nearby turn their heads. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" But, of course, your words fell on deaf ears. How ironic.

Instead, turned toward you and lashed that infuriating half-smile of his –as if to say, "Don’t worry." His wallet was already out, cash ready, as if he'd planned this little coup from the start. You watched in shock at his audacity as he leaned his elbows on the counter with casual confidence, speaking to the vendor in low, friendly tones that carried just enough for you to hear him ordering four turkey legs. Normally, this interaction would have you weak in the knees. But right now, you were hungry enough to kill.

After everything, Anakin was being Anakin. And what you usually adored became a nightmare. And he was doing what he always did- but this time, he played the generous friend just to spite you. His shoulders were relaxed, posture easy, but you could see the slight tension in his jaw that told you he knew exactly what he was doing. He was bracing for your reaction even as he handed over the money, even as he pretended this was just another thoughtful gesture. Maybe it was- but you didn’t care.

The vendor started wrapping the turkey legs in paper, each crinkle of the wrapping like another little jab at your independence. Anakin's fingers drummed on the counter in a rhythm that screamed false casualness, and you could see him stealing glances at you from the corner of his eye, gauging just how angry you would be when he turned around. Behind you, you could practically feel Ahsoka and Ben exchanging worried looks, preparing for the explosion they knew was coming.

“Thanks, Anakin!” Ahsoka happily grabs the leg, and so does Ben, biting into it with ease, praying that you would follow along. But they knew better. Your body shook as you calculated your next move, walking away from them out of line and towards the rides.

“Y/N, wait!” Ben calls after you, followed by Ahsoka and Anakin.

“Here-“ Anakin holds out your turkey leg he bought, and you turn around to face him- and his face drops at yours. You were seething, every muscle tense, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You smack the leg out of his hand and on the ground, hearing a gasp from Ben and seeing Ahsoka throw her hand over her mouth out of the corner of your eye. The turkey leg lies there in the dirt, a symbol of everything that's been building between you two for months. The paper wrapping slowly soaks up grease and grime, and the silence that follows feels like it could shatter with a breath.

“What the fuck-“

“I don’t fucking want it.” The words tear out of your throat like broken glass. You see Ahsoka's hand close around Ben's wrist, pulling him backward. Her eyes are wide, but she knows as she signals to him just to let it happen. She's seen this coming – all of you have.

Anakin's turkey leg hits the ground with a dull thud that matches your heartbeat. "You fucking brat. Come here." His grip is strong on your arm- too strong to fight- and you feel your trauma-induced nerves come back all over again. Suddenly, he’s Nick, and you're trapped and terrified. The old fear rises like bile in your throat as he drags you away from the crowd.

He pulls you behind the Tilt-A-Whirl, the machinery's constant grinding providing cover for whatever's about to explode between you. The carnival lights cast strange shadows across his face, making him look almost foreign to you. Your chest heaves with ragged breaths that seem too loud in this small space, angry tears burning at the corners of your eyes. You’d never seen Anakin this angry before- and it absolutely terrified you. You felt your own resolve weakening, your body betraying you- wanting nothing more than to run into his arms and apologize as you sobbed and fell apart. But you wouldn’t- you couldn’t. That wasn’t an option anymore.

"Anakin, stop! Let go." Your voice comes out higher than intended, almost a whimper. He releases you with such sudden force that you stumble back. Then, his fist connects with the ride's metal siding. The crash makes you flinch, and your whole body jerks as your memories betray you.

"Y/N, I have been going crazy every single fucking day since that night." His words come out eerily controlled as he starts pacing, like a caged animal looking for escape. The carnival lights catch the sweat on his brow and the tension in his jaw. "I haven't slept in weeks. I haven't thought about anything else but you. And you-" His voice breaks, and he turns away, running his hands through his hair in frustration as his resolve begins to crumble.

“It hurts me to see you hurt- to know that you were hurting. To know that I could’ve done something-“

“Anakin,” You take a shaky step forward, trying to find strength in your voice that you don't feel. “There was nothing you could do.”

“Goddammit- will you just let me finish!” His voice cracks as he shouts, a couple of tears cascading down his cheeks.

“No!” You whine as you yell, your own tears finding their way down your face, “You don’t get to fucking make this about you, Anakin! You hurt me! And I had been hurting- for a long fucking time. And all I wanted- all I needed- was to come back to the normalcy of my old life. And you took that from me, Anakin! You fucking took it from me!”

“Y/N-“ His voice is desperate now, reaching for something he can feel slipping away.

“No!” You surge forward, riding a wave of anger that's been building for weeks. Your finger jabs into his chest, and he actually takes a step back. “No- you don’t get to talk anymore. You’ve made this entire day fucking hell, Anakin. Taking another thing I loved and ruining it-“

“What did I ruin first?” He steps forward, his tone icy once again. The carnival lights cast harsh shadows across his face, making his eyes look almost black.

“Our friendship.” You gulp, your words definitive as they hang in the air. You watch them hit him, watch them sink in. He chuckles.

“You don’t fucking mean that-“

“Try me. I said you were dead to me, and I meant it.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” He scoffs, shaking his head like you're being ridiculous- like this is just an overreaction he can dismiss. But you laugh.

“I-I’m fucking unbelievable? Holy shit, Anakin! News flash- this isn’t all about you! Like you always think it is. The ground you walk on does not worship you! And neither do I! I fucking despise-“

Softness. That was all you felt at first - an intense, unexpected feeling of softness that made your anger stutter in your chest. His lips, impossibly gentle despite the force of his sudden movement, pressed against yours in a way that made your knees weak. The softness was followed by a warmth, starting as a spark in your lower abdomen and spreading like wildfire through your body, making your fingertips tingle where they hung frozen at your sides. Insufferable - this feeling was absolutely insufferable - but you couldn't get enough. Your body betrayed your mind's protests, leaning into him even as your thoughts screamed to pull away.

Then— the fucking cotton candy. Of course, he would taste like cotton candy. The sweetness lingered on his lips, mixing with something distinctly him, making your head spin with how intimate it felt to taste him. His tongue found its way next to yours, no longer gentle but insistent, dancing for dominance in a way that made that warmth in your stomach turn molten. He was unwilling to waver in his efforts, pressing deeper, claiming every gasp that escaped your throat. Each stroke of his tongue against yours sent shockwaves through your body, turning your anger into something else entirely - something dangerous and electric.

You gasped, the sound embarrassingly needy, as his hand found your waist. His fingers splayed wide, burning hot through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, pulling you against him with a certainty that made your head swim. The movement pushed you fully against him, chest to chest, hip to hip, as he deepened the kiss. Your hands, traitors that they were, had somehow found their way to his shoulders without your permission, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt.

But then, like a bucket of cold water, your brain caught up to what was happening. This was Anakin. He betrayed you. He ruined your new chance- your new life. And he had the audacity to kiss you like nothing was wrong? Like he deserved it?

You pushed him off of you with all the strength you could muster, stumbling back away as you wiped your hand against your mouth. But the action couldn't erase the tingling sensation his kiss left behind, couldn't stop the way your body yearned to eliminate the space you'd just created between you. Your lips felt swollen, oversensitive, and you could still taste him—that fucking cotton candy sweetness.

“I-I’m sorry-“ He attempted to stutter out, but it was over. It was over when it started.

Your lips crashed back into his with force—hunger—as you quickly closed the gap between you both once again. There was no dance either—your tongue forced its way into his mouth, getting him to moan and submit under your touch immediately. Your knuckles are white around the collar of his shirt, and his hands find their way to your waist, inching down closer to your ass. You scoff against his lips at his hesitation and stand on your tippy toes, pressing yourself against him as you encourage him to touch you back. Of course, he obliges.

You pour every ounce of your anger into the kiss, transforming it into something fierce and desperate. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you push him back against the ride's metal structure, the cold steel a stark contrast to the heat building between you. He groans again under your touch, his hunger far from satisfied.

You kiss him like you're trying to hurt him, pouring your pain and betrayal into the clash of teeth and tongue. It's violent, desperate – a physical manifestation of every bitter word you've ever swallowed down. Your fingers dig into his shoulders hard enough to bruise, and you taste copper where your teeth catch his lip. You want him to feel it, want him to understand exactly what he's done to you.

But then something shifts. The anger begins to dissolve into something else, something that's been there all along, buried under layers of hurt and denial. His hands slide into your hair, gentler than you want them to be, and suddenly, the kiss transforms. The fury bleeds away, replaced by a raw need that terrifies you. Years of unspoken feelings surge to the surface, and you can feel him responding in kind, his body softening against yours even as his grip tightens.

That's what makes you pull away. The tenderness is worse than the anger – it's dangerous, it's everything you've been fighting against. You step back slowly, taking in the wreckage you've left: his disheveled hair, the flush high on his cheekbones, those lips you've dreamed about now swollen and wet. He looks wrecked, vulnerable in a way you've never seen before. There's hope flickering in his eyes, the ghost of a smile starting to form, and you can't bear it.

You struggle to catch your breath, turning away as shame and guilt crash over you in waves. This wasn't supposed to happen. This can't happen. The taste of him lingers on your tongue as you try to rebuild the walls he just shattered.

When you face him again, your finger jabs into his chest like a weapon, like you can push away what just happened through sheer force of will.

"Fuck you." The words come out raw and ragged, carrying all the weight of what you can't say.

You don't wait to see his expression crumble. You can't. Your feet carry you away before he can respond, leaving him alone in the shadows of the ride, the echoes of carnival music mixing with the sound of another chance slipping through his fingers. Back to square one, but now with the memory of what could have been burning between them like a brand.

And Anakin was alone.

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ddejavvu · 2 years ago

Note

hotch hiring spencer to tutor his (college aged) daughter, and hes so impressed with how much theyve been studying and how hes helped her grades, until one day he walks in on one of their "study sessions," but they're not really studying at all.....

Aaron knew there'd be no better person to turn to than Dr. Spencer Reid when his daughter began struggling with her college course load. You're having trouble studying efficiently, you spend so much time at your desk scribbling down ineffective notes that you forget to eat, sleep, and take care of yourself. He's worried about you, his heart aches for his baby girl, so he asks Spencer to start coming over on Saturdays to help you.

It works great. Not only do your grades skyrocket, but your mood does too, no longer sullen from having no free time or sleep schedule. You're back to your old self, maybe even happier now, and Aaron can't hold back the smile on his face as he ascends the stairs, an array of your favorite snacks in hand.

Spencer's inhumanly obsessed with cheez-its, and your own snack of choice is held in his other hand. He thinks the least he can do to thank Spencer is feed the man, seeing as he's so skinny sometimes his snug sweater vests are loose. You swing the door shut during your study sessions, at Aaron's own request, because he couldn't hear the television downstairs over the sound of your chatter. He doesn't think to knock, he's sure the creaking of your door's old hinges will be enough of a sound to break you out of your study stupor.

"Y/N, Spencer, I brought- oh my god."

Your dad's voice nearly goes down a full octave, sending your stomach swirling. He speaks low when he's mad, and watching you scramble out of Spencer's lap and straighten your wrinkled top, you're sure he's livid.

"I- uh, Hotch," Spencer babbles, but you smack the back of his hand to get him to shut up. He runs his fingers through his hair instead, combing out the strands that you'd mussed while licking over his bottom lip.

"Dad!" You chime, "Um- I'm sorry, we- I didn't know you'd come in. We just- we were studying, but then, I- I got distracted, really, it wasn't Spencer's fault, we- I just- I-"

"Stop." Aaron shuts his eyes, snack bags now shoved carelessly onto your bedside table as your dad brings a hand to his face. You're sure this is scarier than any situation Spencer's ever faced before, including aggravated unsubs and near-shootings.

Your dad buries his face in his hand, one large enough to cover his features. It's almost scarier not seeing his stern face; you wonder if his eyes are glowing red.

"Hotch- sir, I'm so sorry." Spencer tries again, and your dad holds up his free hand to silence him. He doesn't need to be told twice, or- thrice, and he closes his mouth.

"How long have you two been doing this?" He asks, muffled by his hand in front of his face.

"Only two weeks. Or- Saturdays, only two days. Just- this time, and, uh, the last time."

"It started last week?"

"Yes." You confirm, nodding even if he can't see.

"Are you studying?"

"Yes." You promise, smoothing out a rumpled study guide and hoping he can't hear it, "Uh- this is our- well, my break."

"Fantastic." Your dad drawls, finally dragging his palm down his face and looking you dead in the eyes. It looks like it almost hurts him to do so, and you feel residual pain in your stomach, churning away again.

"I suppose there are worse people you could be doing that with." He muses carefully, "Though I wish you weren't doing it at all. But you're in college."

"I am," You nod.

"And you're an adult."

"I am."

"And I can't tell you what to do anymore."

You stay silent, not wanting to push your luck.

"Okay. There's nothing I can do," He decides, face still more stoic than when he'd entered, intent on giving you snacks. If he'd had known you'd been eating Spencer's face, he would have saved them for later.

"Don't do it here." He pleads, "At least not while I'm here. And- and while I'm here," He warns, looking at Spencer this time, "This door stays open. Understand?"

"Yes, dad." You nod, and Spencer echoes it with 'sir' as a replacement.

"Study." Aaron narrows his eyes at the both of you, pointedly jamming the door stop beneath the door until it's practically punching a hole through the wall where the knob hits, "If your grades drop again, this is over."

"Yes, dad." You call again, waiting until he storms off down the stairs to even breathe in Spencer's direction.

"Oh my god," Spencer groans, burying his face in his hands, "Oh my god, that was- that was awful."

"He didn't say no!" You point out, grinning at the blushy man beside you, "That went, like, a thousand times better than I was expecting."

"At least I don't have to hide it anymore. Do you know how hard it was for me to pretend I wasn't putting the moves on his daughter while we were in Dallas this past week?"

"I know how hard it was to pretend I wasn't tonguing his agent during dinner last night," You shrug, grinning at Spencer who looks like he's not quite ready to be relieved yet, "No more secrets for either of us, pretty boy."

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amuyyi · 1 year ago

Text

y/n + her plants .

synopsis; just 3 little drabbles of y/n being the only extrovert and obsessed with plants.

trope; le sserafim x 6th member!reader, platonic , just silly poorly written stuff

wc; 2.0k

cw; none

a/n; im ngl this is just a self indulgent self insert of the author. i love female friendships! also i was half asleep writing this, but i really like the 2nd clip idk it makes me giggle a little :3 i had planned to write more, but i got tired soooo... also did not spellcheck at the end zzz please read my other works if u actually want decently written stuff

Clip 1:

It was your turn to turn in a vlog for the week, and you decided to utilize this time to do a room tour. You grin into the camera as you make your way to you and Yunjin’s shared bedroom, opening the door and showing the interior to the camera. It was a spacious room, with posters and photographs plastered all along the walls alongside other decor such as string lights, unique shaped mirrors, and endless figurines and trinkets lined on the shelves. One of the most prominent features of the room though was the amount of pure green all throughout. There were plants quite literally everywhere. On the windowsill, hanging off the ceiling, held up on the wall, on the floor, the tables, the shelves. It felt like just about any free space was touched by mother nature herself.

You grin sheepishly as you explain, “Not many people know this– well I guess now many people will know this, but I am a super big plant person!”

The camera slowly pans over all of the plants as well as some of Yunjin’s belongings, including her guitar, glasses, and some smiski’s you two co-parent. “Thankfully Yunjin doesn’t mind me hogging up some space for my babies, and I pay her back in smiski figurines!!” Grabbing hold of a little green man on the table that was struggling to put on a sweater, you shove its face into the camera as you giggle, “I think this one's my favorite, me and Yunjin are still trying to come up with a name for him.”

You look around, trying to figure out which plant to showcase first before you catch sight of one particular plant you enjoy. “Oh! I want to show you guys my favorite pot…” The camera pans to a comically large and rather beat up leather boot, which humbly held home to a mini monstera within its space.

“It was a random shoe I found near a river during filming one time. Viney here seems to enjoy it,” You grin, accidentally letting it slip that you name every single one of your plants as well as touch random garbage you find outside before you showcase another “pot,” being a mug that had the words “Live Laugh Love” plastered boldly on the side as you snicker, “this one just makes me laugh. Jen hates it, but I don’t think she can recognize the beauty in irony.”

You let out a sigh as you make your way towards your bed, plopping down onto it as you speak. “Y’know, I personally believe I’m a great candidate to collaborate on a show with Chuu, Tsuki, and Yuqi sunbaenim,” the ramble starts, completely derailing from the original topic of plants as you speak. Your tone is lighthearted and playful, but you’re being completely serious as you continue, “I want to do a bunch of random jobs and harass random people on the street!! I’m perfectly capable of doing that! I’d do that even if I wasn’t getting paid!”

You start to laugh, realizing how ridiculous you started to sound, but you didn’t care, you pressed the topic on. “If I weren't an idol I’d make a great farmer! Why haven’t I gotten invited to be a farmer with Chuu sunbaenim??” An endless string of various other jobs as well as explanations behind why you would qualify for every one of them begins to spew out of your mouth. You were always a major talker, and quite literally had no filter nor shame when it came to what you had to say. More often than not, you were leading conversations at social events if Chaewon hadn’t already beat you to it– and having alone time with your own thoughts and a camera to record it all was a recipe for disaster.

At the end of your rant, you find yourself slightly winded before making direct eye contact with the camera, pointing your finger directly into it as you announce, “If any TV company is out there watching this right now, this is my application to be a guest on one of your shows! Any job will do, I’ll do it! But just know I’ll leave you farmers in the dust if you put me out in the fields. Watch your back.”

As a last “threat” to broadcasters all around the world, you threateningly do a “I’m watching you” gesture with your hand before placing your hand over the camera, ending the vlog.

Clip 2:

Eunchae spins around the dorm building, giving the viewers on the livestream a living room tour as she looks around, coming up with random things to showcase on the spot. So far, she’s shown off the inside of the fridge, their oven, and underneath the couch. The young girl’s eyebrows furrow as she contemplates what to show fearnots next, her eyes landing on your precious arrangement of houseplants that you lovingly arranged in front of the balcony door. Eunchae clears her throat dramatically as she turns the camera towards your plants, squatting down next to them as she makes sure the audience can see both her and them within the frame.

“As you guys can see here, we have y/n’s plants… She's COVERED the apartment full of them, Chaewon unnie has to scold her every time she brings one home.” She giggles into the camera before shaking her head, “I’m convinced she loves those things more than us…”

Faint rustling could be heard within the background, and Eunchae turns her head, opening her mouth as if to call out to whoever was home, but she pauses.An imaginary light bulb goes off in her head as Eunchae gasps, looking straight into the camera as she grins mischievously. “I have an idea… Watch this!” She scrambles onto the floor, laying flat on her stomach on top of the floor tile as she props her phone up against the wall hidden behind a stool. The camera perfectly showcases the plants, the living room, and the curtains covering the screen door.

[ynniez] – oh no… [huhjin001] – this is going to be good [2ningz] - 🥸🥸🥸

The giggles can't seem to stop as Eunchae hops onto her feet and immediately dashes behind the curtains, pressing her finger up to her lips towards the camera in a “shh…!” motion before she disappears.

“Eunchae?” your voice rings out as you return to your living quarters, grocery bags in hand as the camera perfectly captures your entrance. You don’t think much of the silence that follows as you place the bags down, making your way over to your plants with a grin.

“Hello my lovelies~” You say to your plants, squatting down to examine them individually before grabbing hold of the watering can nearby. As you lift up the can, Eunchae suddenly bursts through the curtains, exclaiming “BOO!” as loud as possible, resulting in you screaming at a decibel twice as high.

Unfortunately for the maknae, she had failed to foresee the possibility of you watering your plants at this exact moment– resulting in you blindly chucking 90% of the water inside the can towards the culprit in a panic. Eunchae stands there frozen, oversized sweatshirt and hair absolutely soaked with her mouth agape as she stares at you in complete shock.

“What THE FU– EUNCHAE??” You yell out, watching the younger girl simply freeze in front of you like a wet cat. You switch to English for just one moment, simply saying, “Girl…” as you clutch your hand over your heart, trying to steady the rapid beating.

Eunchae’s shocked expression shifts into one of glee as her mouth still remains open, now smiling as her body rotates to where the phone hid, silently pointing in the general direction of the camera as she tries not to burst out into laughter on the spot.

You stare at her in complete confusion before following her finger, eyes finally landing on the livestream as your eyes widen, suddenly feeling very exposed in her own home. “No way you just got all of that on camera…”

Eunchae finally allows the laughter to flow, as she suddenly spreads her arms out, inching her way towards you. “You did this to me, unnie!!!” She roars, making attempts to trap you in a hug as you scream, running offscreen as the live abruptly ends.

Clip 3:

You’re seen with your face comically close to the camera, a habit that soon became a signature of your livestreams as you watch the viewers and comments roll in. You glaze over them before flipping the camera around, showing Sakura within the kitchen, wearing a pink apron and plastic gloves as she cuts up some vegetables. “Hi everyone!! Today, Kkura unnie and I are making omelets for the girls with microgreens I’ve grown MYSELF in OUR apartment!!” You loudly exclaim, shoving the camera close to the cutting board as Sakura rolls her eyes, chuckling at the sight as you eventually point the camera elsewhere.

“You did a very good job growing these y/n-nnie. They look great.” The comment from the older girl made you shy, and you flip the camera back to your face as you place a hand on your cheek, “hehe, thank you Kkura-unnie~” you coo, shifting your gaze back to the viewers before sighing.

“I grew all kinds of stuff in here, like basil, arugula, cilantro, kale…” You trail off, counting the number of edible plants you’ve grown on your finger before continuing, “but I could make so much more if I had a full blown garden!!” You whine, and Sakura could be seen in the background rolling her eyes, playfully commenting, “not this again…”

You dramatically lean on Sakura’s back with your own despite her already being hunched over while chopping as you sigh even louder this time, “I’m serious unnie!! The stuff I could grow for you guys.. You would have a whole salad in one place!!”

Leaving the older member to her task, you place the camera down before grabbing some eggs and cracking them into a bowl, impressively doing so with only one hand each as the comments complimented your skill.

[makna33] – master chef y/n?? [nay00n1] – girl what cant u do…

A laugh escapes your lips as you beat the eggs, “guys, its not that impressive. Besides, I don’t cook nearly as often or as well as Kkura-unnie.” The compliment garners a small smile from the other girl seen in the corner of the screen as you continue on, “anyways, if I had my own garden in the building, I would graft the best tomatoes ever… I’d be real life Frankenstien creating the perfect tomato!” You start, knowing that most likely nobody would actually care for your facts, but you shared anyways, this was YOUR live after all.

“Oh! We’re also using my basil today in one of the omelets. Guys, if you’re ever growing your own basil at home, make sure to pinch off the flowers! It makes it tastier!!” You point the chopsticks you used to whisk the egg at your phone camera, and some of the yolk is thrown onto the screen as your eyes widen, looking back at Sakura to make sure she didn't see what you just did.

You quickly wipe off the gunk before returning to your kitchen duties as if nothing happened, “These eggs are gonna be so good… Though, I did have a pretty bad mealybug problem with the greens at some point… Do you guys know what those are? They’re like these little white dusty bugs that suck the sap out of your plants if you don’t do anything about them. I had SO MANY. But I refused to give up on em and now they're critter free!”

“Yah! Y/n! Don’t talk about the bugs in your plants!! The girls won’t want to eat it then!” Sakura scolds, playfully kicking your side with her leg as she focuses on frying the eggs.

You giggle as you look into the camera, “oops– don’t tell them that there used to be bugs in their food.”

“WHAT?!”

The sound of Kazuha and Chaewon’s shrill voice rings out in the live, and you immediately slam your phone down, giving the viewers a black screen before the live ends.

#kpop x fem reader #kpop fanfic #gg fanfic #kpop #kpop x female reader #le sserafim x reader #kpop x reader #lesserafim x reader #le sserafim imagines #lesserafim imagines #sakura x reader #chaewon x reader #yunjin x reader #nakamura kazhuha x reader #eunchae x reader #le sserafim scenarios #miyawaki sakura x reader

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atsadi-shenanigans · 11 months ago

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Thinking thoughts. In a lot of popular books, usually YA, I’ve noticed that when the mc (usually a girl) goes through Some Shit, at the end of the series or whatever to show healing and growth, the authors often have her married off and possibly with a kid. The ~normal ideal~ and all.

But for me, that don’t resonate. I appreciate to hell that Animorphs author K. A. Applegate said, “Sometimes the wounds left really fuck you up” and, like, spoilers for a 30 year old book series:Jake’s life collapses, Rachel fucking DIES, Tobias fucks off from society completely, Marco is sitting pretty on fame and fortune but that boy had a 50/50 chance of completely cracking and collapsing his own life, and Ax went back to his militaristic, authoritarian by the sound of it war-mongering society of holier-than-thou xenophobes. Cassie is the ONLY one who got out and stayed out, and she had major issues about the whole thing from the start.

I’m so glad that was one of my formative media obsessions. I didn’t really grow up with, in my very personal opinion, was this idea of “A bad thing happened but you just need to get married and have a baby or two and all better!”

And expanding on this (insert Tom Cardy as JRR Tolkien ripping off his sweater), “I’m not even HALFWAY started!”

Astarion. Some of y’all really love papastarion and you go, Glenn Coco. I ain’t trying to shame you or say you’re doing it wrong. Y’all seem really happy and that’s genuinely awesome. I love some of y’all’s work myself.

But for me, I LOVE the idea that, even romanced, Astarion doesn’t “settle down” in the aforementioned traditional context. That man has been through A Lot, and after the events of the game, so has his LI. I am feral over the idea that he alone, or with LI if he has one, just fuck off. Never married. No kids. Just spending decades and decades figuring out who he even is and what he wants to do with that. That’s comforting in the extreme, to me. You don’t have to be married and with kids to be happy and fulfilled, and I just really appreciate that.

(For those of you creating absolute gremlin children of his, I do salute you, that shit is amazing and hysterical).

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion headcanon #animorphs #what is a happy ending

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astrolook · 3 months ago

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Your Birth Chart : The Cosmic GPS of Your Life.

It’s like your zodiac sign, but with a lot more feelings and less meme potential.

Forgot to tell you that even though I do birth chart readings on both Western and Vedic astrology, I prefer Vedic astrology more as my grandfather is a professional vedic astrologer for 30 years. I used to sit with him and watch him do readings for others whenever I visit him. Hello is 87 now and doesn't do readings anymore. I got his notes and it helped me greatly in the past 6 years.

Lemme me walk you through what you can learn from these 12 houses. If you wanted a complete reading or any other readings that I listed on my pinned post, just leave me a message.

House 1 : Welcome to your personal reality show—where you’re the star, the drama, and the plot twist!

Your "Hello, world!" moment. It's where your true self struts onto the stage, whether you're ready or not. It's the place that says, "This is me, deal with it!" And if you’re ever wondering how people see you? This house is your answer, no filter. This is your ascendant too.

House 2 : Where your self-worth meets your shopping cart—hope you’ve got a coupon!

House 2 is your personal treasure chest—money, possessions, and all the stuff you think defines you. It's where your relationship with your bank account, your snacks, and your comfy socks lives. Basically, it’s the house that says, "I’m worth it," and also, "But can I afford that?"

House 3: The Sibling Saga & Chatty Hour - Where gossip meets the road, and your brain decides to overthink EVERYTHING!

House 3 in astrology is basically the spot in your birth chart where all the “I’m just trying to have a conversation” moments happen. It’s ruled by Gemini and is the domain of communication, learning, and short trips—so if you’re wondering why you can’t stop texting your best friend at 3 AM or taking random detours on your way to work, House 3 has you covered.

House 3 is your brain's best (and most chaotic) playground. It’s also the house of short-term learning, so if you’re ever in the middle of a random Google rabbit hole, House 3 is the culprit, encouraging your brain to soak in everything from useless trivia to “who really invented the potato chip” debates.

In short, it’s the house where your inner chatterbox lives, loves, and sometimes gets stuck on repeat.

House 4: Where your roots are buried… along with your childhood trauma and that one dusty old sweater!

the cozy little nook of the zodiac where everything feels like home—whether it’s a warm hug or a crazy family reunion you didn’t RSVP for. Ruled by Cancer, house 4 is here to make sure you never forget that emotional baggage is always just a basement away.

House 5: The Drama Queen & Funhouse - Where your inner child throws a tantrum… or starts a talent show!

The house of fun, creativity, and—let’s be real—drama. Ruled by Leo, this is the cosmic playground where your inner performer, artist, and party animal live in perfect harmony. It’s where you go to express yourself, whether that means blasting your favorite song and dancing around the house or making your friends watch your latest TikTok masterpiece. Totally casual.

This house is also the domain of romance and pleasure, so it’s where all your crushes get way too much attention, and where every date feels like the season finale of a reality show. It's where you shine, baby—whether you're on a stage, in the spotlight, or just wearing a ridiculously fabulous outfit to the grocery store.

House 5 is also the place for children, your inner child and so on. Ready for your next adventure? Grab some popcorn, because this house is always ready for a show!

House 6: The "I Need a Nap and a Salad" Zone - Where productivity meets exhaustion, and your inner Virgo becomes the office manager of your life!

The house of work, health, and routines. It’s ruled by Virgo, so if you find yourself obsessing over every tiny detail of your daily life—whether it’s your diet, your work schedule, or whether your socks are perfectly matched—House 6 has got you covered. This is where you turn into a tiny, stressed-out robot who lives on coffee and occasionally remembers to stretch (but only after your back hurts).

House 6 is all about getting things done (or at least pretending you’re getting things done). It’s the zone where you manage your day-to-day tasks, juggle responsibilities like a circus performer, and try not to spiral into a mini existential crisis about how you still haven’t taken that 5-minute walk your fitness tracker recommended.

It’s also the house that deals with health, so it’s like your personal doctor, nutritionist, and gym coach all rolled into one—except you may not listen to any of them. There’s also a little “nervous energy” vibe here, so if you find yourself reorganizing your entire closet to avoid confronting your to-do list, yep, you guessed it, that’s House 6 in action.

House 7: The Relationship Rollercoaster - Where 'we need to talk' happens… about everything.

House 7 is all about partnerships, whether that’s romantic, business, or that friend who’s always late to everything. Ruled by Libra, it’s where you seek balance, harmony, and—let’s be real—sometimes, a little drama.

From marriage to bestie bonds, this house is where you sign contracts, have deep convos, and occasionally argue over who left the dishes out. It’s the "mirror" of your life, reflecting what you need (or think you need) in others. Time to pair up!

House 8: The Shady Transformation Zone - Where your secrets, taxes, and weirdest fantasies meet in the dark.

House 8 is the house of transformation, shared resources, and all the things you’d rather not talk about at family gatherings—like your finances, intimacy, or that one "crazy" ex who still wants to know how you’re doing.

Ruled by Scorpio, it’s where you dig into the depths of life, confront your fears, and, let’s face it, probably do some questionable stuff just to feel “alive.” Need a makeover? House 8’s got you. Just… don’t ask where the skeletons are hidden.

House 9: The Adventure Time Zone - Where your wanderlust, philosophy, and Google searches for 'how to get a PhD in 10 days' collide.

House 9 is all about expanding your mind, seeking truth, and hopping on a plane to somewhere you can’t pronounce. Ruled by Sagittarius, this house fuels your love for travel, higher education, and big-picture thinking. It’s where you get super philosophical at 3 AM or book a spontaneous trip to Bali after watching one YouTube video.

Dream big, travel far, and occasionally forget where you parked your car while contemplating the meaning of life. Who needs direction when you have House 9's wisdom... and a passport?

House 10: The "Look at Me Now!" Zone - Where your career, reputation, and obsession with Instagram followers collide!

House 10 is all about your public image, ambitions, and how you climb the metaphorical (or literal) ladder of success. Ruled by Capricorn, this is the place where you think about your legacy—so, no pressure. It’s where you put on your “I’ve got it all together” face, whether you're leading a meeting or pretending to know how to use Excel. Dream big, because House 10 is where you’re destined to shine—if you can just figure out how to make it happen without burning out. Work hard, play hard… but mostly work hard.

House 11: The "Squad Goals" & Dream Team - Where your weirdest friends, group chats, and life plans to take over the world live.

House 11 is all about friendships, social circles, and big dreams—basically, the place where your “hype squad” gathers to discuss how you’re going to revolutionize the world with memes. Ruled by Aquarius, it’s where you seek belonging and come up with those grand, slightly questionable ideas, like starting a podcast about your cat’s philosophical views or forming a band… with only two members.

This house is the cosmic hangout spot, so if you’re always texting your crew about your next spontaneous group adventure, House 11 is like, “Yep, we got this.” Just make sure your crew doesn’t get too weird, or, well, you might end up starting a cult.

House 12: The Cosmic Underworld - Where your secrets, self-sabotage, and unresolved issues go to throw a party.

House 12 is the house of the subconscious, hidden things, and stuff you really don’t want to deal with—like your existential dread, past life drama, and the weird dreams you wake up from, wondering if you’re secretly a superhero.

Ruled by Pisces, this house is where you process all the stuff you’ve been avoiding. It's a bit of a cosmic junk drawer, full of mystery, spirituality, and oops, did I really just do that? moments. It’s your personal therapy session, except you might accidentally cry in public about something totally random. House 12 is where you go to confront your inner mess—just don’t be surprised if you need a nap after.

Curious about your birth chart and what it's really saying about you? 🌟 Slide into my DMs for a personalized astrology reading, and let's unlock the secrets of your stars. ✨ Don’t forget to check out my pinned post for pricing details! 🔮 Let’s make those cosmic connections happen! 🌙🌌

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zyafics · 6 months ago

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I love your fics 🫶🏾 do you have any recommendations

hi baby!! omg, thank you so much, and i definitely do have recs!

this isn't an exhaustive list, btw, these r just people i can think off the top of my head. i have a rec account where i reblog my fav fics and whatnot w reviews + commentary @zyafics-recs

@nadvs ONE OF THE BEST RAFE WRITERS, she is the reason why i got introduced into fanfic writing and the reason why i actually wrote today! i love all of her series and her entire masterlist has anything u could ever look for—from fluff, to smut, to angst. it's all there! personal favorites are cam girl and home before dark!

@itneverendshere MY PERSONAL FAVORITE WRITER AND MY ABSOLUTE LOVELY GIGI, i am her biggest fan (will fight u for this position 🔪) and whenever i feel down, or lacking motivation, she is the reason to help me get motivated! she's such a lovely person, and her prose, dialogues and descriptions are to die for. if u like my written fics, i say gigi and have pretty ~similar~ writing style. she also can have ANYTHING ur craving—from canonverse plots, to aus, to fluff, to smut, to angst, EVERYTHING! my personal favorites that got me invested into her work is her thornton!reader with rafe, the other side of paradise (maybank!reader and rafe, lowkey canon, lowkey not), and love you at your worst. also i requested a lot of hockey!rafe from her, so if you love athlete!rafe, she's definitely ur girl!!

@aliyahwritings my bABYGIRL FR—she currently has this series called the contracted heart, which is about model!reader and athlete!rafe and it's to die for. if you love banters—especially if you love witty banter back and forth—this is your girl. if any of you read the addicted series, and loved rose and connor, they lowkey mirror that dynamic. on top of her amazing dialogues/banters, she has such rich representation of desi!reader. like she isn't afraid of portraying explicitly BIPOC readers which i admire so much from her.

@whytheylosttheirminds okay listen, NAT has one of the richest descriptions of storytelling that evokes such a personal level to you. whenever i enter her storytelling, she has such details and beautiful imagery, i actually have to stop reading just to admire it. i'm still digesting her masterlist, but my personal recs are: blue sweater, snooze, and i remember everything!

@starkeysprincess one of the sweetest people on this platform, i absolutely devoured her kinktober fics, but one thing about shania is that she writes every scenario of rafe—from doctor, to handyman, to stepbrother, etc!—and she does it so well. her smut is so fun, and dynamic, especially with their dialogues, and it's so easy to digest her fics in one setting (be warned fr)

@erwinsvow ok i absolutely ADORE the way shea writes, ok?? like everything she puts out, i eat UP!! especially when she written her long fics, aint nothing better for me (toxic!rafe), all mine, bitchy!reader and rafe, and my heart and soul that i religiously reread every week got what u wanted <3

@ilyrafe one of my favorite writing pieces and introduction to analysis of rafe, is by gabi. she has this wonderful mini series (late night and early morning) that perfectly slows down the relationship of rafe and reader and the intensity of his character. if u wanna read more about how he sees the world, and why his character acts the way it does, gabi does is so successful. she also has a hitman!rafe currently in the progress, which i know just released a pt2, i am gonna to read it soon, promise!

@softspiderling okay ELLE HAS EVERYTHING!! she has smaus, to written works, to series, to oneshots, i'm obsessed with everything she puts out, especially because it's so intriguing and the way she writes just leaves me craving more. i would personally rec ocean blue eyes (smau), illicit affairs (best friends to fwb to lovers) and think you’re a genius (you drive me up the wall) <3

if u want more social media aus—

@ghostofwriting has one that is the reason why hb:l is alive today. kildare split is about a band au with rafe and reader and they had drama. and she's also currently writing one about biker!rafe and book influencer!reader, which is so fun, witty, and filled with drama. i absolutely adore kildare split, and it will always have a special place in my heart bc it's my first introduction to smaus <3

@sematarygirls ohmygod, i am currently obsessed with salt & secrets. it's actually magnificent, especially the graphics. the efforts sol puts into them is so detailed and telling, u can see it's made with love. but the PLOT!!! the way the story moves, the way it's a gossip site and reader is a huge instigator. this fun enemies-to-lovers feud between them (that i'm still wondering if the reason reader is targeting rafe means something more 🤨) and the COMMENTS AND BANTERS!! reader is so hilarious. all the characters are so funny and witty, it's definitely something to read to soothe the angst and tension from hb:l LOL 💘

@rafeskai i'm also currently reading this smau about reader and rafe having a little thing before she moved away for college, and she came back! it's so interesting, especially because kai mixes multimedia and written work in one place, so u get to experienced both!

lastly, this is for sarah cameron specifically, but @spellewrites! she's currently working on this smau about sarah cameron and f!reader and i'm excited to see how it goes, especially because sarah is dating(?) topper, reader's brother.

#asks #rec asks

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wordsarelife · 1 year ago

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DAY 13: FELIZ NAVIDAD

pairing: platonic!slytherin group x fem!reader

summary: the reader, who is obsessed with christmas wants to do something her friends aren't particularly happy about.

warnings; none

notes: sorry that i only post now, i didn't have internet for the past two days and thought i had scheduled the christmas calender posts, but it seems that something went wrong anyway, so i apologize

"why are we doing this again?" draco muttered as he watched enzo open the box he had helped you bring into the common room.

"it makes her happy" pansy was sitting next to him, her arms crossed.

"well, it makes me miserable" blaise let himself fall into the cushion and almost onto draco, who dove to the side just a second before.

"look where you plant your arse, you idiot!" he shrieked annoyed.

"this is the worst thing ever" mattheo was rolling himself a cigarette as he watched you across the room.

you were laughing at something theo said, while enzo was still busy opening the package your grandma had send. the two were the only ones who you got to help you with all of this. the rest of the boys and pansy didn't really know why they were here in the first place, but they all knew you were so happy about it, so not one of them dared to leave.

you let out a happy sound when the lid finally flew open. what you picked out next was making the rest of your friends look away in dread.

"i'm not wearing that" draco stated almost immediately.

"neither am i" blaise added

"oh come on" you were now holding the sweater in their direction "you would all look so handsome in them"

"did your grandma knit one for each of us?" theo asked as he took a look into the box.

"of course!" you smiled "she loves christmas just as much as me! and she likes all of you so much since you spend the summer, so she insisted on doing that"

"that was probably so much work" enzo took another sweater out and traced the pattern with his finger "half double crochet huh?"

all of you send him confused looks.

"my grandma used to do crochet" he mumbled, before he quickly folded the sweater and put it back into the box

blaise stood up from the couch and took a closer look on the sweater still in your hand. "grandma chrissie really did that?" he asked, while tearing up a bit "for us?"

"oh calm down, you moron" draco rolled his eyes.

"would you please put them on? for me?" you pleaded and did that look with your eyes your friends hated. it made the part of you stand out, that had also fitted into hufflepuff, before the sorting hat had ulitmately put you in slytherin.

"y/n" mattheo sighed

pansy shrugged and stood up from the couch. "i guess it's kind of cute" she simply said, before she took her sweater out of the box.

as if to not raise much awareness, blaise softly took his sweater out of your hands. theo and enzo searched for theirs silently and mattheo and draco looked at each other, silently fighting who was breaking first.

"sure" draco said bitterly and mattheo laughed in triumph.

each of your friends put their sweater on and you did the same. "now sit down!" you instructed "we're going to take a picture"

"do we have to?" blaise whined.

"for grandma chrissie?" enzo asked and you nodded, which made your friends hesitantly agree.

you set up the camera and directed your friends to sit on or stand behind the couch. then you sat down in the free spot in the middle, smiling brightly. "i hope you are all smiling" you mumbled and your friends did as instructed, to your surprise, without a single word of protest.

the camera signaled with a click that the photo had been taken and you laughed, clapping your hands. before you hugged theo tightly (he was the closest to you) "thank you guys"

without them really wanting it, mattheo, draco, pansy, blaise and theo had to smile at your enthusiasm and the childlike happiness that bubbled out of you. enzo smiled too, but he wanted it.

the picture was printed and send to grandma chrissie, where it found a permanent place on her fridge.

#mattheo riddle x reader #theo nott x reader #draco malfoy x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #pansy parkinson x reader #blaise zabini x reader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin #hogwarts #harry potter #theo nott #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #lizzyschristmascalenderspecial

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bbitess · 1 year ago

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goth and metal prt 1-eurory x f!reader (use of y/n)

brothers best friend‼️ (euro is 19 in a high school type band, reader is a senior) idk how norwegian school works sorry

warnings‼️ smut, drinking and drugs, making out, ass slapping, fingering, oral f!receiving, p in v, gagging, creampie, the L-word, a meer couple sentences that have just a wee bit of degration and exibitionism

(this is based off sum random pic i saw on here and my love for my bauhaus vinyls and obsession w my set up 💪)

thank you all for being so sweet frrr, i’ve been an anonymous rory lover and all of these fics are from the archive of my notes app over the past few months :)

youtube

Y/N is jan axels sister who doesn’t listen to much metal music, she’s more into gothic music. her brother had two friends he started a band with, she only knew the guitarist, oystein, since he was jan’s friend for a while. she stayed upstairs most of the time but around 9 she got sick of all the noise and decided to go downstairs.

As she approached the basement the music grew louder. she opened the door and the music stopped, all of their eyes hit her, making her feel a little embarrassed in her sleep shorts and a sweater.

“jan, can you keep it down or like, idk go somewhere else becuase i am just trying to have some peace of mind…”

the other members looked at jan who said “yeah, yeah we are almost done.”

“thank you” Y/N said leaving and going back upstairs.

“you really let your little sister boss you around like that?” oystein asked, he was a long time family friend and he knew Y/N for a while. they were friends when they were younger but he just kind of changed. “she’s not bossing me around, i just respect her, i mean, she usually is tolerant when we practice at my place.”

oystein looked pretended to be offended “what do you mean tolerant? she should be moved by my amazing guitar skill.” the bassist snickered, “in your dreams” jan replied, making oystein blush a little and the chuckles to grow louder.

oystein sighed and set down his guitar, “im getting a drink,” he states plainly before running up the stairs. he goes to the fridge and retrieves a cold glass of beer. when he closes the fridge door he finally noticed Y/N is also in the kitchen. she is reaching up high to grab a mug from the top shelf but she couldn’t seem to reach it. the sweater she was wearing rode up on her torso, exposing her flat stomach and thin waist which contrasted her full behind, the shorts hugging them well, leaving little room for the imagination. oystein shuttered, he couldn’t tell if it was because he was seeing his childhood best friends little sister all grown up, or because he was overflowing with desire. he will admit it, he has longed for her for at least a decade but nothing ever came of it. she was out of his league and off limits because of her brother, they had hung out a lot as friends but,

(a/n: idk why but when i wrote this i made the back story from euros first person, idk just imagine culkin like narrating idek, good luck.)

“i knew jan protected her with his life. one day when jan and i were in our last year of secondary school, about to graduate, i actually told him how i was feeling. that was unusual to say the least, we didn’t put our emotions into words very often. i told him how i wanted to ask his sister to the prom and how she had caught my eye in the past. he seemed suspicious and hesitant but eventually got the idea and gave me his blessing. i went to the store to get flowers, but they were sold out, i didn’t want to spend gas going to a different store so I just went home. but after that i lost hope, i never went to get the flowers or ask Y/N to prom, i guess i got caught up in the senior work and eventually i graduated, and now i only see her when im at jan’s.”

(okay it’s over, back to third person <3)

he pulled his eyes away and searched for a bottle opener but couldn’t seem to find one anywhere. he held the bottle up to Y/N and she nodded, she swiftly grabbed a spoon. oystein had his hand by the cap and had the bottle set on the table so she swiftly held his hand in place with one hand and with the other, used the spoon to open the bottle. oystein flinched and shook his hand, Y/N laughed, “it didn’t hurt that bad! and look your bottle is open,” oystein just smiled a little, and Y/N almost melted, his smile was beautiful but he never wore it. “you should smile more.” she she stated facing him. oysteins smile dropped almost immediately but the blush stayed on his cheeks and he reddened as Y/N inched closer to his face.

“you look nice when you smile,” she says, beaming and brushing a stand of his hair behind his ear smoothly. she walked away, giving oystein a second to breathe and hide the massive boner inside his pants. Y/N had abandoned the mug and grabbed a beer bottle from the fridge and opened it. “aren’t you too young to drink, Y/N?” oystein asked, he was 19 but not that new to alcohol. “no” she replied, “well, yes and no…” she said taking a hearty sip. “how old are you these days?” oystein asked slyly, Y/N replied with her honest age, “i’m graduating in a couple months.” “wow, you are mature beyond your years…” oystein states, smiling. “maybe you are just behind,” Y/N laughs and then drinks more. they are both about halfway done but the weather was kind of nice out. it was a summer dusk so Y/N and oystein went outside to finish beers and while they were out there, oystein couldn’t help but retrieve a rolled blunt from his pocket.

Y/N was a little nervous because they think smoking weed with someone is very vulnerable but they agreed to oystein and they smoked the joint. “i’ve always wanted to do this with you…” oystein admits, “do what?” she laughs, “idk, smoking together, drinking, talking, anything… i’ve always wanted to know you better.” she looks down, “i wanted to know you to, but you always seemed to push me away when i got to close, you never opened up to me after middle school you know…” oystein feels devastated a little hurt hearing this, he keeps smoking. “i’m so sorry if i made you feel unappreciated, Y/N. i really liked you, like really really liked you,” he chuckles. “i promise,” she smiles, still looking down, “really?” she asks. he goes on, “really! you know i was going to ask you to my prom last year, gosh i remember like it was yesterday. i asked your brother for his permission, it was the scariest shit i’ve ever done. and i was going to ask you but the store was sold out of flowers and i guess i just psyched myself out…” he admits, kind of laughing at the story.

Y/N is surprised since he never talks about his feelings this deeply. “wow, i never knew. why did you get psyched out?”

“i don’t know, you were almost two years younger than me but i was a nobody at that school. you were pretty and had good friends and were nice to everyone. i figured another lucky guy had already asked you, i wouldn’t want it make it weird.”

“wow, oystein i wish you told me, i would have gone with you.” Y/N said, he was kind of in disbelief at that.

Y/N smokes the blunt and smiles, content with oysteins confession, “i forgive you, cheers…” she says and holds up the bottle, “cheers to what?” oystein questions. “cheers to confession…” she laughs and they clink the bottles. “i confess that i really liked you too, well before you slammed the door on your emotions… but i know the oystein i knew is still in there.” Y/N says, seriously, almost in a stern tone. oystein was frozen for a moments time but in that moment he felt like he had gained the wisdom of centuries.

oystein finished the blunt and tossed it, and that quickly he grabbed her jaw and pressed his lips to hers for their long awaited kiss. their lips locked together, so perfectly they thought they would get stuck and never pull away. oystein even ran his tounge over her lips, meeting her in the middle when she got brave enough to try a french kiss. she was a little hesitant kissing someone she had known for so long, it almost felt wrong, but also so so right. her hands tangled in his wild hair and he held the back of her neck, his other hand subconsciously creeping up Y/N’s soft thighs.

after another moment which seemed like centuries, they pulled away catching their breath. they began to arrange their clothes and hair back to normal. “oystein?” Y/N asks, “yes?” “does this mean… that you still you know, like me?” oystein blushes “what makes you think that??” he states quickly. “well, you just kissed me like your in love, and… it’s just- also, i could see your boner the whole time.” Y/N admits, oystein was flustered but they laughed it off, his icy eyes locked on hers and he promised-not said, promised, “the second I laid eyes on you I was yours, yes, Y/N, I do like you.” she smiled and put herself in his arms, “good, i like guys who like me…” and then they both started laughing in each others arms like they used to.

“i have to get back,” oystein says getting up and holding the door back into the house open for Y/N but they eventually speak, “have fun with your death metal,” Y/N says, “its black metal, norwegian black metal…” oystein says smiling, “either way, my bauhaus vinyl is easier on the ears.” she smiles. “well maybe i’ll come up to your chamber and we can listen to it together, how does that sound?” he asks, she responds quickly, “grood… i meant to say great and good, i’m sorry i-.” he had already walked away thinking about how was he going to get rid of this raging boner.

later in the night, the guys had packed up their things, oystein was the last to leave, “hey do you want to stick around and watch a movie or something?” jan asked oystein, “umm, no” he remembered he promised he would go to his sisters room, “sorry man i’m just tired, see you.” and oystein quickly left with his guitar case and pretended to be going out the door but in reality he went to the next floor and knocked on Y/N’s door.

she had been waiting patiently for oystein to come upstairs and when he knocked she started the bauhaus vinyl, hoping he would be impressed with her music taste.

when Y/N opened the door oysteins jaw dropped, she had changed from her pajamas and into a lacey black top and thong that was covered by a sheer robe, tied around her small waist. he couldn’t believe it, she looked so different, so beautiful and enticing, he didn’t know what to say.

“does jan know you are here?” Y/N questioned, oystein shook his head, still in disbelief, “um- can i come in?”

she let him in and he sat on the end of her bed which also was the best place to listen to the vinyl. “do you like it?” Y/N asks. “yes” oystein says smiling, he puts his hands on her waist and begins to inch upwards towards the lacey bra, his hands still over the robe. “i think it’s really sexy…” oystein says continuing, “no,” Y/N laughs taking his hands in her own and interlocking them. “i meant the vinyl, oystein.”

oystein blushed from embarrassment and arousal, “oh- yes that’s really good too.” he nods. she laughs.

she leans into him and their lips meet, his hands returning to her body as the kiss intensified. she reached under his shirt, he felt electrified when she touched his skin and peeled his shirt over his head, quickly reattaching their lips.

the gothic music blasted through the speakers, him still sitting on the bed, she backed away and he bathed in all her glory. she gave him a small tease, untieing the robe and slowly peeling it off her body, revealing her smooth pale skin that shined in the moonlight flowing through the window. the black lingerie contrasted her complexion and he had a sudden urge to strip it off her.

oystein stood from the bed quickly, pulling her in for another kiss, rubbing his large ringed fingers up and down her torso, he reached behind her back and unclipped the bra, letting out a sigh. he pulled it off her, staring for a second at her chest before grabbing her in his hands and fondling her breasts in his hands. “you are so beautiful, god you have no idea what this does to me.”

Y/N moaned at his words which only encouraged him, he latched to her neck and slurped at it like a vampire, letting his teeth graze her soft skin before sucking a hickey onto her throat. “sorry babe, your brother might get mad about that…”

she sighed, “forget about him.” she said, running her hands into his hair. he moved his lips down her body to her chest and began to suckle and kiss her breasts, Y/N continued moaning as she held his face to her, he bit down a little on her nipple causing her to flinch a little and pull oystein by the hair, but he just let out a low moan and the vibrations ran from his teeth to her bud, making her pussy wetter every second. she had to hold on to the desk so she wouldn’t collapse right there.

he got down to his knees, leaving a trail of kisses down her torso. his ringed fingers pulled down her thong effortlessly. he stared at her, but then slid his finger through the folds and penetrated her hole. Y/N let out a lewd noise but oystein didn’t stop, he kept fingering her, making her moan harder and her legs feel like jelly. oystein placed a hard smack on her asscheek and then brought his lips to the clit, kissing and then sucking on it. she felt close already. “oystein!! i’m gonna- please i’m going to cum”

oystein was suprised that she was going to cum this fast but her pussy leaked all over his hand and he lapped the juices up with his tounge. he stood up and pulled her into a kiss, her cum mingling between their lips, and right then, she came on his fingers- hard, his hand was still on her ass and it held her up since her knees had completely buckled under her.

oystein took down his pants and boxers swiftly, Y/N was suprised at his length, “oystein, that won’t fit!” “i’ll be careful baby” he replies. while he took his pants off Y/N flipped the vinyl which is very important. then he was ready. he took her by the waist and pressed her back to his chest, his hard member pressed between her legs, precum was oozing from the tip of his cock. oystein sat back in the bed, right between the speakers and set Y/N on top of him, spreading her legs. “are you ready?” oystein asks gruffly in her ear, nibbling at the lobe. she nodded and he groaned and his cock twitched between her legs so she wasted no time and grabbed it. she pumped it a few times, lubing it with pre cum and her pussy juices. then she pushed him into her, his cock filled her to the brim. “oh my god,” she muttered, he continued pushing in, inch by inch. she didn’t know if she could take the feeling at first. oystein wrapped his arm around Y/N and grabbed her tit roughly, he began moving her up and down his length. “you are doing so good.” oystein praised as he began to speed up, pounding into her messy cunt. she began to moan louder, over come by the feeling. “let me hear you,” oystein says, “they can’t hear you over the music, unless you want them to you little slut.” he laughs, “yeah, i bet you would like that, if your brother came up here and walked in on his best friend pounding his innocent little virgin sister.” Y/N couldn’t respond more than pornographic moans. “i’m-im” she utters, “oystein, cum-“ she speaks and has and orgasm on oysteins cock. he reaches his other hand around her and puts his fingers deep in her throat, pulling her down on him roughly. she was gagged and fucked into oblivion, his hand squeezing her chest. her moans echoing louding through the room with bauhaus music.

oystein finished inside her, he grunted and spurted cum though her. she was oozing and when he pulled out she sighed roughly and let cum drip and bubble from her hole. oystein left a harsh slap on her ass, almost squeezing it like he was milking her pussy. the whole time serenading her with compliments and love that he had for her. “you did so good, baby, god if i knew that pussy was so good i would have gotten it in grade school.” kissing her neck.

then he left, getting a washcloth from her bathroom to clean them. he got dressed and she pulled on the robe, “are you leaving?” Y/N asks, “i’m sorry- i thought that’s what you wanted, i mean, i would have to leave early tomorrow.” oystein responds. “that’s okay,” Y/N says, “do you want to spend the night?”

oystein couldn’t believe it, it’s not like he had never slept over in the house before, he had hundreds of times, but never in your bed. he nodded and got into the bed. they kissed a couple times before he pushed her hair back and stated, “i love you,” it seemed early but they really did love eachother, and they had for years. she blushed and tried to cover her smile with her hand. “i love you, too, oystein, i never stopped once.” she states, cuddling up into oysteins chest and falling asleep.

part 2 here

#rory culkin #rory culkin fanfic #eurory #euronymous #rory culkin smut #euronymous smut #lords of chaos #bauhaus #Youtube

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inf3ct3dd · 2 years ago

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HOT TO GO!

warnings: gay ppl (ewwww omg 🙄🙄)

authors note: im a sucker for a barista au, what can i say 😕 also im obsessed w this song rn

5,6,5-6-7-8!

you started prepping the coffee beans, pouring them into a large class container while you moved your head back and forth, music blasting through your headphones.

you loved working the opening shift. most people definitely would not, but giving that you had an insane sleep schedule and were already awake at 4am, you decided to take it.

your favorite part? you worked by yourself.

you had always loved doing weird shit in your room. acting out fake scenarios, having fake concerts, dancing around to music, girly shit!!! but having a roommate, a very reserved quiet girl named amy who went to sleep at 9pm every night (weirdoooo…) you didn’t have very much…freedom.

but the opening shift? you could be as weird as you wanted to. it was basically like your room, if your room was a coffee shop.

you walked into the supply room, still dancing around to your music. you were grabbing random milks and flavorings to bring back to the front, when you started singing into one of the milk containers as you walked back.

you set it down in its proper place, now spinning yourself around and checking that everything was in its place. you bounced on your feet, music still blaring in your ears.

“H-O-T-T-O-G-O U CAN TAKE ME HOT TO GO!”

you suddenly had a background in cheer, singing along to the chant in the song and shaping your arms into the letters, adding in your own random choreography you made up.

you look at the clock, reading [4:45 AM], indicating you’ll be opening soon.

most people didn’t show up til at least 5:30, so you knew you had nothing to worry about, deciding to make yourself a drink.

well, what you cant see cant hurt you, right?

a girl approached the glass entrance of the coffee shop, stopping to read the hours.

you were still lost in your own world, mixing your chai latte while dancing and singing behind the counter. you were very into it, committing to the fake choreo you made yourself for the chorus. you mixed your chai and oat milk together, shaking them in the mixing cup while moving your hips back and forth and switching sides with the cup you were shaking.

the girl quickly noticed you, and a smile crept onto her face as she watched you move around. you didn’t notice her at all, still lost in your musical barista-ing.

you effortlessly scooped some ice into your cup, pouring the latte over it and putting a cap on. you’re moving in an almost perfect rhythm, your movements matching the beats of the song. a cheesy smile is plastered as you finish, drawing a smiley-face on your cup before taking a sip.

you look up to the clock, seeing its now 5:00, and you have to move the “open” sign. you take a sip of your drink first, closing your eyes in contentment as you taste it.

“perfect!”

the girl is still looking at you through the glass, enamored by how happy you are at 5 in the morning. you completely contrasted her. your bright sweater under your overalls, curls pulled up into a high ponytail, and glasses now sitting low on your nose seemed to fit your personality (or her rough impression of it from staring at you for five minutes) perfectly. she almost wishes you don’t notice her, you seem so in your element.

her wishes are not obeyed, as you look over at the door and lock eyes with her almost immediately, slightly jumping at her sudden presence and the fact that she was most definitely staring at you.

how long has she been there….

you lower your headphones onto your neck, music still leaking through.

you look at the girl for a second, taking in her features (or what you can see from across the cafe), and the main note you got was gay.

and kinda hot.

she had redish-brown hair, cut into a mullet stopping at the bottom of her neck. her jade-green eyes were staring right at you, and they perfectly complimented the brown freckles adorning her face. she had layered a dark grey long sleeve with a black band tee, with a pair of greyish-blue jeans and some seriously fucked up converse.

you quickly snap out of your daze, setting your drink down and walking over to the door. you flip the open sign over so it reveals the “open” side to the people entering, and unlock the door for the girl.

“sorry for the uh…wait? i dunno how long you were out there.”

she lightly giggles before walking into the store.

“yeah, you seemed like you were having a good time.”

you offer a laugh in response, walking behind the order counter.

she definitely saw me.

“you know what you want?”

you slightly wince at your words, feeling not very customer-service-y. your nerves were getting the best of you.

“hm…i dunno, whats that?”

ellie gestures towards your drink.

“my favorite! its just a chai latte, but i put oat milk and brown sugar syrup!”

you smile, content with your reply. it clearly rubs off on the brunette, as she smiles back at you.

“does it come with a performance?”

you roll your eyes at her response, laughing slightly.

“nah, gotta pay extra for that.”

you type her order into the cashier, still smiling.

“how much?” she jokingly asks, making the both of you giggle.

you look down at her hands on the counter , fingers slightly tapping it, the sound of her silver rings hitting it quietly repeating.

those are some homosexual hands.

“can i get that hot though? my professors classroom’s fuckin freezing.”

you laugh again, giving her a nod and changing the order in the system.

“is that it, window stalker?”

she chuckles at you.

“should be, twinkle toes.”

you roll your eyes at her, grabbing a cup and your pen.

“you got a real name, or should i just put that?”

“ellie. do you have a real name?”

you give her your name, writing hers down on the cup, along with a heart and some sparkles.

she repeats your name, nodding before paying and leaning on the counter of the pickup area.

you make her drink, still moving around a bit as you make it. you cant help it!!! you’re happyyyy :))

ellies really taking the stalker thing to heart, trying her hardest not to stare. but she CANT, you just look too perfect to not admire. shes never seen someone this giddy at work.

you decide to make a simple heart design with the milk, expertly pouring it into a perfect shape.

you proudly walk over to the pickup area, setting the drink down in front of you.

“here.”

you slide the drink in front of her, a proud smile plastered on your face.

she stares at the drink, face practically lighting up.

“wow, all this for me?”

she says, fake shocked.

a heart? is this how baristas flirt?

“cute drink for a cute girl.”

you look back at her, and see her features overcome by a slight red tint.

she smiles back at you, taking the cup into her hands and turning it over to see her name on the side, adorned with hearts and sparkles. adorable.

without a second thought you walk over to your cashier station. ellies shocked by your sudden disappearance, and slightly disappointed. but she cheers up when she sees you’re writing something down.

you walk back over to her, number in hand, and a cheesy grin on your face.

“here. so you don’t have to sit outside and stare at me anymore.”

she graciously accepts the paper, putting it in her pocket.

“who said this is gonna stop me? i enjoyed the show.”

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #gay ppl #barista #fluff :))#sierra being sappy #oneshot #ellie williams fanfic

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floralhuqzz · 15 days ago

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Mine, Not Yours (Joe Goldberg x reader(fem)

(Chapter 16- Here Comes London)

MASTERLIST

The road hums under the wheels.

The sun is starting to rise, bleeding a soft orange over the forest trees as they thin out behind us. The cabin. Love. Everything we left there… getting swallowed by the morning light.

I grip the steering wheel tighter.

You’re sitting in the passenger seat, your head against the window. Silent. Still. Like you’re somewhere else entirely.

I steal a glance at you.

You’re pale. The dried blood on your shirt is a brutal reminder. I should’ve made you change. Should’ve—fuck. I should’ve fixed everything before it got this far.

You’re scared.

Not of me.

But of what the world turned you into.

Of what I turned you into.

I swallow hard.

I did this.

I brought you into my world, thinking I could protect you from it.

And now look at you.

Hurt. Hunted. Changed.

Because of me.

I open my mouth once. Then close it. What the hell am I supposed to say? “Sorry you almost died”? “Sorry you had to stab someone”? Sorry doesn’t cover it.

The silence is thick. Stretching. Choking.

Finally, you speak.

Voice hoarse. Barely a whisper.

“Where are we going?”

I grip the wheel tighter. “Airport.”

You nod slowly. Eyes back on the window.

Seconds stretch into minutes.

You shift in your seat. “Do you think… anyone will find her?”

Love.

Dead or alive, eventually someone will notice she’s gone.

But by then, we’ll be far away.

“Not for a while,” I say carefully. “We covered our tracks.”

Another long pause.

Then, barely audible:

“I’m scared, Joe.”

My hands clench.

“I know,” I say. “I’m scared too.”

You look at me, searching my face, my eyes. Like you’re wondering if you can still trust me. If you ever should have.

“I would never let anything happen to you,” I say fiercely. “You have to believe that.”

Your lips tremble slightly. You nod.

Another beat of silence.

Then, your voice cracking a little:

“Did you ever think… maybe we’re the bad ones?”

That hits me harder than any knife.

I let out a shaky breath. Smile, bitter and tired. “Maybe. But bad people deserve love too.”

You look away again.

The airport is getting closer. I can see the signs.

This is it.

No turning back now.

We’re either free…

Or we’re running forever.

And honestly, I don’t care which it is.

As long as you’re next to me.

Always.

⸻

(Two Years Later — London)

The rain taps against the windows like a steady heartbeat.

Gray skies, the smell of wet stone and old streets — London fits us.

Fits me.

A place of fog and shadows where people don’t ask questions. Where secrets stay buried under centuries of silence.

Two years.

It almost doesn’t feel real.

I hear your laugh from the kitchen.

Soft.

Alive.

I set the book down — something about philosophy and forgiveness, a subject I’ve become strangely obsessed with — and watch you for a second.

You’re stirring something on the stove, one of your sweaters hanging off your shoulder, hair tied in a loose knot.

You don’t notice me.

You’re humming under your breath.

The sight hits me harder than it should.

You’re happy.

Not perfect.

Not untouched by what we left behind.

But you’re here.

Alive. With me.

And that’s everything.

I stand, walking toward you. My footsteps are quiet, but you still feel me — you always do.

You glance over your shoulder and smile.

The kind of smile that still knocks the breath from my chest.

“You’re staring,” you tease, handing me a wooden spoon.

I take it without thinking, tasting the sauce you’ve been making.

“Perfect,” I murmur.

You laugh. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

For a moment, there’s just peace.

Just the rain.

Just us.

You turn back to the stove, and my hand slips to your waist — instinct now — grounding myself in you.

“So,” you say lightly. “Are you finally going to tell me what you’ve been working on?”

I smile against your neck. “Soon.”

You chuckle. “Always so secretive.”

If only you knew.

I kiss the curve where your shoulder meets your neck. You shiver, just slightly.

“You trust me, right?” I ask quietly.

You turn to face me, brow furrowed in that way that still makes me want to fall to my knees.

“Of course I do,” you say. Without hesitation.

God, you mean it.

Even after everything.

Even after the cage, the blood, the choices we made.

I don’t deserve you.

But I’m never letting you go.

You tuck a strand of hair behind my ear — a casual, intimate touch — and for a second, it almost feels like forgiveness.

Almost.

I lean in, pressing our foreheads together.

“We’re safe,” I whisper. “We’re free.”

You nod.

And for once, I believe it too.

The past is six thousand miles behind us.

A graveyard of broken promises and dead bodies.

Nothing can touch us here.

Nothing.

The timer dings, and you laugh, pulling away to check the oven.

I stand there, watching you move around the kitchen like it’s always been ours.

And maybe it has.

Maybe from the moment I met you, it was always going to end like this.

Not in tragedy.

But in quiet survival.

You plate the food — chicken with rosemary, something simple and homey — and hand me a plate.

“To us,” you say, lifting your glass.

I lift mine too.

“To us,” I echo.

Our glasses clink.

And outside, the rain keeps falling, washing the city clean.

you take a sip out of your wine “we should take a walk today, I want to grab something from the bookstore”

I hum as I take a sip out of my glass of wine as well “yeah” I look at her “that would be great”

⸻

It’s been a long time since I had to… take care of anyone.

Two years, to be exact.

Two years since I left behind the part of me that once needed to bleed for peace.

Or at least, I thought I left it behind.

Tonight, it creeps back in.

Sharp. Hungry.

You’re laughing. Smiling that dazzling, dangerous smile.

But not at me.

At him.

Terry.

I fucking hate the name already.

You introduced him like it was nothing — “Joe, this is Terry, my friend from the gallery.”

Friend.

Sure.

I saw the way he looked at you.

Not at your eyes.

Lower.

Lingering.

Drinking you in like he had a right to.

The way his hand brushed your arm when he leaned in. Subtle. But too intimate.

Too casual to be innocent.

And now, as you both talk — as I stand there, pretending to care about the weather or football or whatever stupid bullshit Terry is pretending to like —

I feel it.

That old, familiar burn in my chest.

The tightening in my fists.

Mine.

You’re mine.

And this… this thing standing in front of me, breathing the same air as you, touching you, looking at you like he could ever deserve you —

No.

No, I could fix this.

It would be so easy.

A slip of the hand.

A wrong step on the Underground tracks.

A missing person poster no one would look at twice.

I start zoning out, my mind painting the picture so vividly I can almost taste it.

I wonder how he would scream.

Would he beg?

Would he cry?

Would he gurgle?

God, maybe I would cut him slowly.

Not fast.

Not merciful.

Drag it out.

Make sure he knows why it’s happening.

Because he touched what he shouldn’t.

Because he looked at you like that.

Fuck, I could—

“Joe?”

Your voice.

Like a lifeline.

I blink. The fantasy crumbles into dust.

You’re looking at me — soft concern etched into your features.

Terry’s still talking, oblivious.

“You okay?” you ask.

I force a smile. It probably looks more like a grimace.

“Yeah,” I rasp. My mouth feels dry. “Just… thinking.”

You slip your arm around mine — a small, protective gesture that makes something deep in my chest uncurl, just a little.

Terry glances at your hand, jealousy flickering across his face like a match about to ignite.

I smile wider.

You’re mine.

Not his.

Not anyone else’s.

Still, as we say goodbye — as you lead me away, your laughter filling the air —

I can’t shake it.

That itch under my skin.

That raw, gnawing need.

It’s been too long.

And men like Terry…

They’re the reason monsters like me don’t stay buried.

Not forever.

Not when there’s something to protect.

Not when it’s you.

#fanfic #reader #you show #joe goldberg #joe goldberg x reader

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onyourhyuck · 2 years ago

Text

Popular. | N.JM | PART 1

— Prologue: “Who’s the new girl?” + “Jaemin. Don’t tell me you are already harassing the new girl?”

— Summary: Revenge becomes love? Old faces become new faces? Where you enroll back to your old school where you got bullied, to get revenge on Na Jaemin but he cannot recognise you.

— Genre: Popularboy!najaemin x goodgirl!y/n. Revenge plot with romance and smut. Mention of bullying. Plot twists. Very sensitive subjects no minors. School sex(?) exhibition. Jaemin’s obsessed with y/n. Enemies to lovers (kinda)

— Notes: Popular - The Series Masterlist.

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The old faces become new faces, but to you they will always be the same. You see you’re enrolling back to a school you swore to never become back to but you made a long life promise that you will come back as a different person. And you did. You levelled up while everyone else stayed and stood the same. You’re a new person. New you. New chapter. No one can recognise you because you poured all the blood sweats and tears into your new self and new life to come back and show them what they’re missing out on. All you ever wanted was to be popular.

You wanted to be liked. You wanted to be invited to things, the things you craved back then are only getting more and more intense. You would’ve done anything to have what the popular kids have, to experience getting love and compliments. You wanted to be mainstream, you wanted to be viral. The attention they got was unfair because you never once had it back then. But now it’s different. You’re the new girl. No one recognises you.

At least you hope someone does recognise you so you can shove it in their face how brand new you look with all the hard work and suffering you had to go through.

Walking down those school hallways was something haunting. You feel like you’re back at the very start of hell that you had to deal with all those years, but now the looks on people’s faces weren’t facing you but giving you surprise glances. They have a new girl enrolling?

The boy on the side wearing a red hoodie with a white shirt underneath and a pair of denim jeans was caught off guard by the beautiful peach scent running from his nostrils, glaring up wondering where it was coming from, he saw an unfamiliar figure walking in front. Wearing a loose white sweater over a collared shirt buttoned up. The flowyness of the black skirt fluttering from each step she took with her legs. It just makes him stand there, mesmerised and also, thinking who was that?

The boy nudged his friend who closed the locker with a gentle slam. “Hey Sungchan,” He spoke with the inability to look away but make his friend watch the person he became someone so infatuated with. “Who’s the new girl?”

The taller boy, Sungchan, also his best friend despite being a year younger looks over at the girl he pointed at and a long-long face was expressed on him. “Jaemin. Don’t tell me you are already harassing the new girl?” Sungchan sighs.

“Looks like you don’t know either.”

The guy with slight light brunette hair smirks when he mentions that Jaemin’s curiosity was far too much already. Jaemin’s smirk stays as his eyes look at Sungchan and he pats his chest with the palm. “Cya at lunch Chan.” Jaemin said suddenly jogging away from his friend leaving Sungchan by the lockers completely stranded, but not surprised.

‘Why am I not surprised? It’s Jaemin.’ The younger boy said to himself under the breath of holding back from shouting, trying not to seem so surprised but every time something happens, he was left alone to deal with his mess.

Running to dodge a few people passing through a sudden person now walks on the same length pace as you and your eyes caught the guy instantly. You remember him. The flashbacks run in your eyes like it was yesterday it happened. How he ignored you. Left you when you needed the help the most. The same anger flusters your knuckles but you roll them forward and your strength was holding back, you had the urge to just punch him already knowing what he did to you. But he seems to be completely oblivious? Does he really not remember you? You found it almost offensive that he does not recognise you considering what he did, it stays buried within your past.

Your glare appointed to the boy you stop when you notice he was following you and about to speak to you, so you shut him up immediately before he could even speak. “What do you want?” Well that came out slightly more meaner from you than Jaemin thought he would get. “You’re the new girl right? Why don’t I give you a school tour guide at lunch time.” He offers with a sweet smile.

This was God’s plan in a way. You thought this was perfect timing to get your revenge on him and just shout at him, reveal who you are, but you couldn’t do that. You didn’t have the strength to shout and scream anymore all you have is the numbing anger to deal with on your old wounds.

Then it hits you. He doesn’t recognise you and he thinks you’re a new girl, someone he doesn’t have relations with at all. Your eyes light up and your thoughts begin to trail like a running waterfall in synch.

What if you make him fall for you? Then you can take your revenge when he really loves you? You could make him regret what he did. He can be the first one on your list to take your revenge on.

You saw that the boy was waiting for your answer with hopeful sweet eyes. Your thoughts were too dark. You were wanting revenge not friendship, so to make this look real you have to pull your act together and hide your anger from everyone, at least for now. You pull a fake smile. “Sure, show me around.”

You swore Jaemin’s sweet smile widens. “Perfect. I’m Na Jaemin and you are…?”

The hand extends out to shake yours and you feel your eyebrows raise up furrowing as you had to think of a name for yourself. You remember you even given yourself a brand new name when enrolling into this school. You really had everything planned from the get-go.

“Y/n.” You tell him as you softly shake him by the hand. Jaemin was taking notes mentally already of your name, he found you mysterious. And he loves mysterious especially for a curious guy like he is you are a dangerous box for him to find.

He smiles. “Y/n huh? Pretty name. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria. It’s by the right side of you go straight ahead. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t forget.” Not like you can. It’s not actually your first time being at this school.

You nearly forgot how nerving it must be being the new student. Especially when you’re standing in front of the class front of everyone, the teacher trying to make the class settle down and go quiet so you could introduce yourself.

“Come on kids settle down, it’s a Monday morning you shouldn’t be so hyperactive and happy.” The teacher glimpses back to you and the students with a sarcastic tone.

The students settle down. You recognise some of them. How can you forget after all? They all did you wrong.

Ningning, the most popular girl in the school who makes everything a competition if a slightest person gets more attention than her. She is popularity itself. People often refer to her as Queen of popularity. But you’re determined to overtake her, make her life a hell like she did to you.

Then there was Chenle. He was pretty wealthy and he got away with many many things you saw him do. He doesn’t even know you saw him do it because back then, you were someone else. You were nearly broken.

And you can’t forget Jaemin. Na Jaemin. The boy who does everything so effortlessly. The school heartthrob. The most popular guy you could ever think about. Jaemin is a social network. He was everything you have to be careful of.

‘Unless you’re going to use him.’ You thought to yourself.

The teacher gave you a sign to start when you’re ready and you clear your worrisome thoughts putting on a friendly smile. You bow your head. “Hello I’m Y/n I hope we all get along well.” The students welcome you by clapping their hands as you take a seat down at the middle section. You thought it was perfect if you sat there considering you didn’t want to be at the back like before.

Students were surprised by how pretty you are too, especially the boys in the class seem to be gossiping already, which just makes Ningning on edge. The new girl was already rousing up people saying how cute you look.

Jaemin smirks raising his hand. “Sir can I sit next to Y/n? I promised to show her around at lunch.” He smugly told to everyone so they can all wow and gasp. You’re already on first name basis and it made everyone’s lips widen.

You find Jaemin already so annoying that he’s sticking by you but this makes your job so much easier.

He just doesn’t know who you are it makes this all so much funnier how he’s doing everything he can to be around you. Hip to hip.

“You may.” The teacher said dismissing it so the lesson can go on. Jaemin moves to the next vacant chair and table next to your desk where you sat and he gives you a healing warm smile.

He starts to admire you from the side profile. You really look like a doll from any angle. Jaemin raised an eyebrow though. “Do you perhaps have a sister or anything?” Jaemin now said thinking. “Or is this your first time enrolling?”

He has a feeling he knows you from somewhere but he cannot brush it away without asking straight up.

Your eyes widen. “Sister? No… It’s my first time enrolling.” You mumble quietly not wanting to attract much attention to his question either. It’s best to act dumb and play along.

Jaemin let’s out a soft ‘huh’. He wasn’t sure why he thought you’d had an older sister or something. “Hm okay then.”

“Anyways, Y/n. What school did you come from before then?” He smiles watching you.

You don’t even bother to look at him, Jaemin found it so interesting how you’re listening to the lesson while not even paying much mind to him. “I was homeschooled.”

You had to be especially careful not to reveal too much of your past to him, but you can say you were homeschooled.

He leans closer. “Did you ever go to a school like this before then?”

“Nope.”

“Not even once?”

“No.”

“Wow… you must suck at socialising then Y/n. I mean… you sounded pretty angry with me when we first met.”

You wanted to slam your pencil and tell him to stop speaking when you’re in middle of a lesson trying to catch up with some work but you couldn’t do that to him otherwise you’d explode. And it might get you in trouble.

You patiently bite down on your tongue and pray Jaemin just shuts up. “I was in a grumpy mood, don’t pay mind to my tone.” You grit your teeth as you spoke and Jaemin smirks.

He knows he’s getting to you. “Am I annoying you Y/n?” Jaemin would ask you as if he didn’t know that he was, but it felt much nicer to hear it from you. You lift your face up with a heavy sigh away from the paper you’re writing class notes in as you turn to look at him.

“Yes, yes you are. I’m trying to write these class notes.” You say to him truthfully trying to put the hint across and Jaemin let’s out a soft ‘awh’ at you.

“Look at you trying to be a good student already. Can I copy some of the notes from you?” He smirks watching your expression twitch a little.

‘What a dick.’ You thought to yourself as if you never experienced people leeching off you again.

“Will you shut up if you do?” You sigh desperate for some peace and quiet over here as you see Jaemin smirk nodding. “Of course.”

You don’t know if you can believe him. Actually you don’t. But you did this anyways and handed your notes to him so he can take a copy of it on the paper he owns.

You snatch your paper away once he was done out his hand and he sheepishly smirks leaning closer whispering to you when you’re going back to writing down on the paper.

“Thank you Y/n.” Jaemin whispers pulling away.

“No problem, Jaemin.” You sarcastically said with a tone that wasn’t so nice and upbeat to him, whispering it back.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you! Please reblog this fic and follow me for more updates on my pinned post!

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