#and obi-wan is like no i promise dont do this to yourself people will be fine they just want you to be happy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tennessoui · 1 year

Note

"honestly, just stop it" or "i'm not even sorry" for princess diaries au?

"i'm not even sorry"! for the princess diaries au (or, the obikin version of the scene in princess diaries 2 where they push each other into a fountain)

(2.2k)

Riyu Chuchi is a nice enough princess. She’s kind, and she’s pretty, and she has enough of a backbone that Anakin feels confident that if he ever does something she doesn’t like or approve of, she’ll let him know.

These things are important in a marriage, Anakin thinks.

Riyu, a twin born two minutes after the first, loves her country enough to leave it and marry someone else so there’s no contender for her sister’s throne. And Anakin loves his country enough to marry a woman and resign himself to living what’s always going to be at least partly a lie to produce an heir, to keep Genovia’s monarchy going strong.

It’s a duty he spent most of his life—eighteen years of it—unaware he had, but now at twenty-one, he can’t ignore it anymore.

He doesn’t want to, is the thing. He wants to get married. Now. So the love has as much time as possible to grow. His parents married young and for love, and they stayed together right up until the day his father died.

Anakin will marry young, for duty and not for love, but Riyu seems perfectly nice. Very accommodating so far, though this is mostly based on how the last candidate for the wedding he’d met had turned up her nose at the pears.

Anakin’s only been prince of Genovia for three years, but that’s long enough to get pretty attached and defensive about their pears.

She’ll make a great wife is what everyone says when Anakin asks, which is all Anakin needs to hear to start planning how to ask.

They’ll have a long engagement, if she says yes, which Anakin knows she will. Maybe if—if certain things had not happened, they wouldn’t even need to get engaged immediately.

But certain things had happened.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had happened.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, one of Genovia’s more well-endowed with land lords, had happened. Had—had waltzed up to Anakin’s private coat closet freak out, got him drunk and halfway in love before humiliating him at his own birthday ball, only to then corner him in a linen closet and kiss him halfway back to being in love, only for them to get caught by a few gossipy maids.

So now Anakin is getting married so people will stop fucking talking about it. He can’t be king of Genovia if the people don’t trust him to lead, and the selection of articles and tweets and opinion pieces his valet leaves out for him in a box every morning makes it very clear that getting caught making out with a man sixteen years his senior in a fucking linen closet has not inspired confidence in Anakin’s ability to make decisions with anything other than his dick.

So marriage.

Engagement now, marriage in a year or two. A long engagement. To give Anakin as much time as he can to ease into love, build it and commit to it, even if he’ll never feel it naturally, not for Riyu.

And he thinks maybe today’s just as good a day as any to propose. They’re hosting a garden party on the palace grounds because there’s nothing his grandfather is more proud of or in love with in Genovia than his gardens.

Well, his gardens and Anakin, which is why Anakin thinks maybe today is the perfect time to ask Riyu formally for her hand in marriage. She’s looking very nice and put-together, wearing a blue dress that definitely makes her look. Very nice. And her hair is up too, also looking nice, and she’s smiling at everyone and remembering all their names, which is great because Anakin is terrible at that, and her smile definitely makes her look—nice.

Lunch has been served and eaten, and now the part that’s left is Anakin’s least favorite: walk around, make nice, and slowly go insane trying to pretend his shoes aren’t pinching his feet and his head isn’t hurting from the dehydration and the intense amount of sun beating down on him. At least with Riyu on his arm, he’s not suffering alone.

If he’s never able to love her like a husband loves his wife, at least he may be able to love her like a teammate. The thought gives him a bit of comfort, ring box burning in his jacket pocket. He shifts slightly, bringing himself and Riyu to a standstill on the garden path between two groups of people. They’re at the mouth of one of Qui-Gon’s miniature hedge mazes. Anakin could lead Riyu through it, to the center, and propose.

The ring is heavy in his pocket. No, he will propose. He—

“Princess,” a very familiar and very unwelcome interrupts, and Anakin turns around immediately, already flushed and angry because Obi-Wan Kenobi had not been invited. Anakin knows that for a fact, and he’s going to fucking—

Obi-Wan Kenobi isn’t even looking at him. “Princess Riyu, what a surprising delight.”

“Lord Kenobi,” Riyu replies, looking unfairly and remarkably charmed. “I wasn’t aware you were coming.”

“He wasn’t supposed to—”

“How could I miss a garden soiree, my dear?” Kenobi asks innocently, cutting right through Anakin’s voice as if he weren’t interrupting his future king. “Has anyone told you how lovely you look today?”

Anakin scowls. “Yes.”

Obi-Wan arches an eyebrow.

“He did say I looked very nice,” Riyu allows, shooting Anakin a small grin.

“You do,” Anakin mumbles, unable to shake the feeling that he’s on the wrong end of a joke he doesn’t quite understand.

“Well, a compliment no matter how bland from a future king is worth ten from a mere lord,” Kenobi says blasely, and Anakin scowls.

“Obi-Wan, please, I’m about to get jealous,” an unfamiliar but no less welcome voice says, and Anakin blinks away from Kenobi for the first time since the man’s arrival to see another man—a boy, really—standing just behind Kenobi.

The boy has dark curly hair, amber eyes, and a strong jaw. He looks about Anakin’s age, and holds himself like he’s God’s gift to this hellish party.

“Apologies, darling. Please,” Kenobi wraps an arm around the boy’s waist and brings him level with them. “Meet Princess Riyu of Pantora.”

Riyu coughs politely.

“And, of course, Prince Anakin. Of Genovia.”

“Who are you?” Anakin asks when the boy reaches out a hand to shake. He crosses his arms over his chest.

Obi-Wan arches his other eyebrow. “Darling, where have you been the past five years? In the back of a closet? This is Set.”

Anakin colors, heart picking up as fury stirs in his chest. “Of?” he asks the boy. Set. Whatever.

Set smirks. Anakin thinks he’s definitely got maybe the most punchable face he’s seen, like. Ever.

“Of nothing,” the boy says.

“Of pop stardom,” Obi-Wan intercedes. “Set here is the number one most listened to artist across the board in Genovia, did you know?”

Obviously Anakin didn’t know. “Oh, well. Riyu here has been playing the piano for the past twenty years, she’s quite talented.”

“I can imagine,” Obi-Wan smiles cooly. “Set was discovered while busking on the streets during his senior year of high school.”

“Oh, just last year then?” Anakin asks innocently. “Did you know Riyu has a master’s in international relations and business entrepreneurship?”

“That’s noteworthy,” Obi-Wan ducks his head, but Anakin’s eyes are drawn to the way his hand curls around Set’s waist like it belongs there. “I read an article a few days ago that said Set is the future face of Genovia.”

“Then it looks like you have a type,” Anakin bites out, dropping his arms to curl his hands into fists.

“Like hell I do,” Obi-Wan snaps back, face pinched and eyes sharp. “Set is actually honest about what he wants and from who.”

“Set,” Riyu says, “would you like to escort me to the lemonade table? I’d hate to get in the way of their pissing competition.”

“It would be my pleasure, milday,” Set replies, extending an arm that Riyu gratefully grabs. “And has anyone told you that you look lovely today?”

“And meant it?” Riyu says with a laugh as they depart. “I don’t think so, no.”

“The nerve,” Anakin hisses at Obi-Wan, reaching across the scant distant between them and shoving hard at his chest. “You can see yourself out.”

He spins around and stalks away. He doesn’t get very far at all before Kenobi is catching his wrist and pulling them back together.

“You know I can’t, princess,” he murmurs, just for them, and it’s so fucking—it’s the fucking worst, because his voice is so light but his eyes are so dark. His hair looks so soft, and his beard smells so good, and he—he looks fucking lovely, in his light gray linen suit and light blue tie that brings out the gray in his eyes and he’s looking at Anakin like he knows that Anakin thinks he looks lovely and Anakin is going to scream.

“Why not?” he snaps, begs, bringing up a hand to push Obi-Wan away but forgetting to do so as soon as Obi-Wan catches it with his free hand.

“Because,” his voice drops. “That’s not the way a suit jacket is supposed to lie.”

The words don’t make sense, not until Obi-Wan darts a hand down, into the exposesd inner pocket of Anakin’s suit jacket to pull out the ring box.

He raises both eyebrows, face flushed as if he has a reason to be angry, before turning on his heel and stalking away, through the hedges to the Qui-Gon’s stupid miniature maze and away from the party all together.

Anakin is quick to follow.

After all, the bastard stole his engagement ring.

“Give that back!” he demands as he chases after Obi-Wan’s surprisingly quick figure. “I am your future king—I could—hang you for this!”

Obi-Wan whirls round quite suddenly as they turn a corner, pressing him back against the wall of the hedge, higher here now. “And I’m just a lord,” he says, slipping the ring box into his own backpocket as he boxes Anakin in with his arms. “Trying to stop his future king from making an idiotic mistake.”

“Oh yeah?” Anakin scowls. “Pretty sure all the mistakes I’ve made so far have involved you!”

“You don’t want to marry that woman, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says as if Anakin hasn’t spoken at all. “You don’t have to—”

“Maybe a lord can show up to a party with a man on his arm, but you do not get to tell me what my duties are as a prince—”

“No one is asking this of you!” Obi-Wan puts his hands on his shoulders, as if barely resisting the urge to shake him. “No one in Genovia cares if you marry now or not! They are excited to have you as their king, they do not need a queen—especially one their king will not want!”

“You have no idea about what I want!” Anakin shouts, using his height to his advantage to loom as much as he can over Obi-Wan. When that doesn’t feel like enough, he shoves him out of his way, spinning them around and against the hedge so hard the plant shakes.

“I think I do,” Obi-Wan murmurs, allowing himself to be held, and it’s only then that Anakin realizes he’s been staring solely at the other man’s lips. “Do you really think kissing me was a mistake?” he asks, tilting his head up in a much more effective use of their height difference.

“Yeah,” Anakin says roughly, swallowing the sudden rush of saliva in his mouth. “I regret kissing you. Fucking—all the time.”

Because he can’t stop thinking about it. Because Obi-Wan keeps showing up. Because he can’t focus around him now. Because he smells so good. Because—because—

“I don’t,” Obi-Wan confesses, closing the gap between their lips and whispering the words against his lips. “I thought about it, and I know I should feel—different. But if I must watch you marry a woman we both know you will never love, I cannot regret stealing those moments with you. I’m not even sorry.”

Anakin finds it hard to swallow, air scarce between their faces. He stumbles back, and this time Obi-Wan allows him to go, an unreadable look on his face.

“I—you’re wrong, I—could, I would love—we’d—you’re wrong—”

“I’m not,” Obi-Wan’s face looks tender, which is an expression Anakin isn’t sure he’s seen on him before. “I—wish I were to make it easier for you.”

He reaches into his pocket and withdraws the ring box, taking Anakin’s hand in his own and wrapping his fingers around the velvet material.

“I’m sorry I’m not,” he says very quietly, as Anakin drops his gaze to stare at their overlapping fingers around the box. He stares at it long after Obi-Wan squeezes his fingers and leaves.

He almost wishes he’d kissed him instead.

He almost wishes he’d pushed him in a fountain. That would have been kinder.

#asks #princess diaries au #obikin #prompt fill #what i feel like is also happening is lke everyone would be so fine to have anakin just come out and be happily gay #but evil grandfather dooku paid anakin's valet to put all the negative articles and scandal discussion pieces into his morning news #so he thinks it's way worse #and obi-wan is like no i promise dont do this to yourself people will be fine they just want you to be happy #and anakin is like !!! >:( no!!! >:( duty!!!!#(but yk. love wins <3 )#starring my faves: riyu!!! and set as an anakin lookalike once more <3

97 notes · View notes

howlingbarnes · 7 years

Text

Yuanfen - Part 9

Characters - Bucky x Reader, Tony Stark, Mentions of others

Word Count - 1542

Warnings - Fluff, Language, Implied smut, Angst?

A/N - WHOA! Full disclosure: I never know what I'm doing. I swear this will all make sense later. Please dont hesitant to tell me what you think! This is an AU. 缘分 (Yuanfen) is a Chinese word that has no direct English translation and (roughly) means “A relationship that is brought together by a force such as destiny or fate.“

Yuanfen Masterlist

“Hey,” a soft voice infiltrated your dreams, piercing through the veil between fantasy and reality as you stirred on the couch. A tender kiss landed on your cheek, followed by another on your temple and one more on the tip of your nose, “wake up, doll.”

Your eyes fluttered open as Bucky shifted under your bodyweight. Stretching on the now seemingly small couch, you let a groggy groan rumble through your chest just before stepping onto the cold hardwood floor and trudging into the kitchen in search of a coffee mug. Bucky took a deep breath, letting his head push into the fluffy pillows on the couch.

“Coffee?” you called across the open room, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“You read my mind, sweetheart,” Bucky spoke back, a thumbs up poking out from behind the couch being the only thing coming into view.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you whined seeing that it wasn’t too long after seven in the morning. Silently you cursed the rest of the world for turning at such ungodly hours as you popped a pod into Bucky’s Keurig and waited for your caffeine fix.

“When did I pass out?” You basically spoke to the counter that your forehead now rested on.

“Ah,” Bucky’s voice found your ears and you could almost picture his face as he crawled back into his memories, “I know it was somewhere during This Is The End. Maybe right before Jonah Hill gets fucked by that demon?”

“Damnit, that’s one of my favorite parts!” You giggled, slamming your hands on the counter, faking anger before lifting your head. You started the machine again with a clean mug, deciding to play nice and bring Bucky his coffee first.

Bucky pushed himself up into a cross-legged position as you padded back over to the couch. You handed him the mug but it was placed on the table, instantly forgotten as his fingers wrapped around your wrist. Just as you started for the kitchen once again, Bucky lightly tugged your arm until you were planted between his legs. One of his hands engulfed your face as he tilted your head for an amorous kiss that sent your coffee to the back burner of your mind.

“Do you know what I like the most about kissing you?” He asked with a gruff morning voice that had you in shambles as soon as he started talking.

“What’s that?” You hummed back between small pecks and happy chuckles.

“I get to do it whenever I want,” Bucky winked at you before giving your waist a squeeze with his other hand.

Normally, you have some smart comeback but not today. You didn’t have the energy and you were rightfully too flustered to respond. Silently, you stood from your warm, cozy spot and went to retrieve your hot mug.

Standing in front of the building that housed your future bosses had you wringing your hands nervously. You’d paced in front of the doors for nearly twenty minutes, dodging businessmen who all seemed late for meetings and people running by with trays full of coffee cups that you could only assume were interns.

After your anxiety induced cardio, you started walking down the block, leaving the building far behind. Just as you reached the corner, you pulled your phone from your pocket and opened your conversation with Bucky to start a new message.

‘I can’t do this’

You thumbed the words into the device with shaky hands, only having a few seconds to steady yourself before your phone vibrated with his response.

‘You got this, doll. Just go in there, sign the contract and get back here to me’

Smiling down at your phone, you gathered enough nerve to walk back to the intimidating doors of the building you were previously loitering around just a short time ago. You shook your head free of any harsh thoughts that were creeping around within your mind and pushed one of the doors open.

It wasn’t long before you had found your way to the elevator with the help of the pretty brunette at the front desk. A lump started to form in your throat, butterflies fluttering in your chest as the lift ascended before the doors slid open slowly. Stepping out, you found that you were so lost in thought that you’d forgotten every single direction that Maria at the desk had given you. With a heavy sigh, you wandered the halls until you came across a shiny nameplate on a sleek door with the name Natasha Romanoff etched into it. Your faith was temporarily restored; if you couldn’t find Tony Stark, at least you had Natasha to save you the embarrassment of having to return to the lobby.

Closing your eyes, you lifted your fist to knock on the door but before you had the chance, a loud thump from inside made you freeze in place. With furrowed brows, you let curiosity swallow you whole as the thump turned into a symphony of multiple thumps. Moving slowly, you gripped the handle of the door and turned it. You cracked the door open enough to peek inside and instantly wished that you hadn’t.

You slipped a hand over your mouth in an attempt to physically hold in the gasp that was trying desperately to make it’s way up your throat. Your eyes were wide in disbelief as the familiar slap of skin against skin rang through the room. Grunts and groans floated out into the empty hall and stabbed your eardrums until you quickly clicked the lock and closed the door quietly behind you.

Of all the way you’d expected this day to go, this wasn’t one of them. Without a second thought, you pulled out your cell and clicked on Steve’s name. Still standing outside the door with your hand over your mouth, you squeezed your eyes closed as the ringtone he’d picked for you so many years ago carried through the very door you had your body pressed against.

Tears clouded your vision as you rushed away from the door with Steve’s chipper voicemail message flowing into your ear. Stepping into the elevator, you hung up your phone and willed yourself to calm down.

The air around you was so thick that it felt as though it was reaching into your body and pulling the air directly from your lungs. Your chest was raked with unsung sobs while your mind raced, recalling the last time you’d seen Steve before that. He was torn and broken, a shell of the person that you had come to care for dearly.

With far too many emotions and thoughts racing through your mind, you all but ran to the entrance once the elevator doors finally opened again, inviting you back to the lobby. You were so unfocused that you hadn’t noticed the man walking in until you crashed right into his chest.

“Whoa!” He exclaimed, holding your elbows to look you over, “where’s the fire, darlin’?”

“I’m sorry,” you answered, trying your best to put on your ‘I wasn’t just crying’ face, “I was just looking for Tony Stark but he doesn’t seem to be here and I'm on a tight schedule, so if you'll excuse me.” You lied through your teeth at the stranger, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of there.

“May I ask why you were looking for me?” The tall man quirked a brow at you and suddenly you felt his confident presence with full force, “you wouldn’t happen to be Y/N, would you?”

“Uh,” your eyes darted everywhere but at the figure before you as you tried to wash away the images that were starting to burn into your mind, “yeah - yes, that’s me. Listen, Mr. Stark, I really do have to go but is it possible for you to email me the contract? I can print it out and bring it back when it’s signed.”

“Don’t let me hold you up, Y/N.” Tony stepped out of your way and gestured for the door, “I’ll send your contract at my earliest convenience, enjoy your day.”

“Bucky,” you breathed into your phone as you stomped down the sidewalk away from the building that currently held the most uncomfortable and awkward moments of your life.

“That was fast,” Bucky chuckled, blissfully unaware of what you’d just gone through, “how’d it go?”

“Can we meet somewhere?” You blurted out, feeling the panic grabbing hold of your vocal chords.

“Yeah, I-I’m at Tes’ restaurant,” you could hear the concern in his voice but knowing his location made you pick up your pace until you were nearly panting into the receiver. “Where are you, babe? What’s wrong?”

“I’m on my way and I promise, I’ll tell you when I get there.”

“Okay, be safe.”

Just as you rounded the corner of the block that Tesla’s restaurant sat in the middle of, the cell phone you’d been white-knuckling since Bucky hung up started to vibrate. Looking down, you saw that it was Steve returning your call. You deliberated as you walked, hovering your thumb over the screen. Flashbacks of him with Natasha played over and over behind your eyelids, making the decision for you.

[One missed call: Beefcake]

Tags are CLOSED

@bovaria @bionic-buckyb @sebbytrash @marvel-ash @huffleypuffelycas @obi-wan-my-only-ho @sincerelysaraahh @alyssiamking @hellomissmabel @sexyvixen7 @smexy-bucky-waifu @wonderless-screwup @purgatoan @myluvislikewow @desextiel @thenewmrsweasley @goblinqueen95 @whoopxd @bucky2-0 @evangelineimagine @namiheart @holydeanmon @alexx-in-wonderland123 @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @my-blackbird-universe @nicmob @thirstybitchqueen @feelmyroarrrr @mellifluous-melodramas @andhiseyesweregreen

#Yuanfen #Yuanfen 9 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel au

210 notes · View notes