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raspberriesoda · 1 month

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paranoia » njm + ljn

genre | smut (mdni!!) jaemin x afab!reader x jeno

word count | 3k

summary | an innocent game of paranoia with your friends while on a ski trip makes you realize that maybe you never knew you wanted to fuck your boyfriend jaemin’s best friend. and maybe, your boyfriend is okay with that.

warnings | smut, swearing, alcohol consumption, threesome, unprotected sex but he pulls out, established relationship with jaemin, jeno is shy and a little bit of a perv ig?, dom!jaem sub!jen basically, cuckolding, lots of pet names from jaemin he’s a sweetie pie

a.n | this fic was purely self indulgent lmaoo, when i would go on choir ski trips in high school we would always play paranoia in the hot tub at the resort (no nomin threesome though unfortunately ugh unfair) and my bestie and i had major brainrot one day a few years later and uhh this was born!

also if anyone doesn’t know what paranoia is, basically you get a group of friends and sit in a circle, one person whispers a “who in the group is most likely to” type question to the person next to them so the rest of the group doesn’t hear it, and then they answer it out loud. if the person who asked wins rock paper scissors the other person has to reveal what the question was, but if they lose then the question remains a secret (i added the caveat that if you lose and you really don’t want to tell you can take a shot as a safety)

“ooohhh,” haechan muses, his hand scratching at his chin. he glances around the circle of his friends surrounding him in the hot tub, eyeing everyone very intently and contemplating the question ningning had just whispered in his ear.

“probably renjun,” he answers after some thought.

“renjun??” ningning gapes. “my money was totally on mark.”

“shut up! you’ll give it away!” haechan hisses.

the pair turn to each other and present their fists. after three slaps to their hands, ninging lets out a ‘ha!’ when her two fingers snip at haechan’s open palm.

without missing a beat, haechan reaches into the middle of the circle, snatching one of the pre-prepared shots sitting in a slot in a little yellow floaty.

“you loser!” ningning yells. “was it not you who said you’re a pussy if you chicken out when i took a shot?”

“cry about it.” haechan throws the shot back down his throat and tosses the little plastic cup behind him to clatter on the wet tile. suddenly ningning grabs haechan by his shoulders and in one swift motion his head is completely underwater. his arm holds his fruity blue cocktail high in the air so as to not spill it, but it still sloshes around as he flails, frantic bubbles rising up to the surface. jisung reaches forward and grabs the floaty to pull it away from the chaos and keep the shots from dancing across the water.

haechan resurfaces when ningning lets him go, coughing dramatically and wiping the water away from his eyes. “my drink! my drink!” he sputters.

you giggle at the antics of your drunken friends, but its difficult to give them your full attention when jaemin is pressed against your left side. his right hand glides across your thigh under the hot water, dangerously close to the bottom of your white bikini.

he’s paying no mind to the game. his nose is pressed against your neck, his breath feeling cold against your skin in comparison to the hot air around you. you swat at his hand when his thumb brushes against the fabric between your thighs; jaemin has never been one to shy away from public affection, especially when he’s tipsy, so you’re the one tasked with keeping him under control. you find that it's hard to care that much though, considering that even before the game began you were already three shots deep. jaemin just chuckles, lifting his free hand to brush your wet hair from your shoulder and places a hot kiss behind your ear.

you turn to look over at him, your head tilting back and to the side so your lips brush lightly against his own as you move. it's snowing, the night sky completely clouded over, but the heat from the hot tub makes the puffy white flakes dissolve in the air before they can touch the water, and they fizzle away as you watch them land in his hair. jaemin catches his bottom lip between his teeth, a dazed and loving smile matching the way his glossy eyes look at you in the winter air. you lean forward just a bit to meet him in a kiss. he sighs happily, leaning in closer to deepen it.

the game has made its way down the circle and someone grabs your attention by telling jaemin that it’s his turn. he chases your lips when you pull away, your face flushed upon remembering you aren’t alone, all the while he seems unphased.

without looking away from you he hums in thought, watching as the condensation clinging to your skin rolls down your chest. he brings a hand up to cup your ear and whispers his question.

“who’s most likely to fuck you better than me?”

even in the steamy air, the blush that rises to your face is unmistakable. your eyes widen, making a devilish smile appear on his lips.

“ohhh look at her face!” karina says coyly. “must have been a spicy question!”

you’re too stunned to speak. you’d never been conscious of it, but apparently you knew the answer to this question before even being presented with it.

your eyes then flicker over to scan your group of friends; everyone’s eyes are on you and all of a sudden you feel like you’re a second from overheating.

“you’ve gotta answer, baby. its part of the game,” jaemin teases, snapping you out of your thoughts. the smirk playing his features is mischievous; his hand slyly finds its way between your legs again, and when his fingers slip under the band of your swimsuit and press roughly against you, you blurt out your answer without being able to stop yourself.

“jeno!”

its clear everyone was under the impression that the question presented to you was intimate, and a series of surprised and boisterous hoots and hollers erupt all around you. jeno laughs nervously from a few spots down the circle, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. you swallow hard. it's too late now to wonder if you should have just kept your mouth shut.

jaemin pulls your attention back to him. your eyes are apprehensive when they meet his; he immediately takes notice of your change in demeanor, and he gives you a sweet, reassuring smile. when you smack your hands down in sync, he waits just a second to see your fist still clenched, and he slips two fingers out of his to let you win.

“that’s cheating!!” haechan whines from across the hot tub. “you saw her play!”

jaemin just presses a soft kiss to your wet cheek and drapes his arm around your shoulders. “cry about it.”

the next morning, you wake up to the sounds and smells of breakfast being made. through the dehydration and dull headache of your small hangover, what you’d said the night prior runs rampant in your head.

you feel a strange sense of guilt gnawing at you. jaemin acted no differently than normal following your confession, but you can't shake the feeling that you’d upset him. it was his best friend's name you’d said after all, so you aren’t quite sure why he hasn't at least brought it up again.

the dream you’d just awoken from involving said best friend didn't help settle your nerves either.

you shuffle out of the sheets and walk into the kitchen of the small condo you and your boyfriend are sharing for the weekend. you take a seat on one of the barstools surrounding the kitchen island, tapping your fingers on the marble countertop as you watch jaemin from behind him. he hums to himself, dropping ingredients into a sizzling pan.

“jaem?” you start. he spins around, and he grins at you.

“good morning, my love,” he greets you, crossing the space and leaning down to kiss you.

“are you mad at me?”

in retrospect, it's a stupid question; he hadn’t given any indication that he was upset with you at all, but your worried conscience outweighs your common sense.

jaemin’s smile falls, a look of confusion replacing it. “of course not, baby, why would i be?”

“because of last night,” you mutter, your shoulders slumped.

jaemin takes a seat on a stool across from you and pauses to think. “i don’t remember you doing anything last night to make me upset, babydoll.”

“i mean, like, what i said in the hot tub.”

he blinks at you. after a second, his face lights up in realization. “what, about jeno?”

you nod, lowering your head in shame. jaemin chuckles, placing a warm hand under your jaw to bring your eyes back up. his thumb brushes against your burning skin.

“baby, why would i be mad about that? i asked you the question in the first place.”

“because he's your best friend.”

“so? as his best friend, i know better than most that he’s attractive,” he jokes. you’re honestly confused as to why he's so casual about it.

“i um- i had a dream about him last night.”

when he lifts a brow and tilts his head, you reach up to tightly squeeze his hand that still lays on your face and scramble to clarify. “but it didn't mean anything jaem, i promise! please don’t be mad, please, i really would never do anything like that-“

“baby, shh, its okay,” he cups your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks together. heavy, anxious breathing fills your chest. “i love you and i trust you, i promise i’m not upset with you, sweetheart.”

a sigh falls, your worries dissolving into the warm air. jaemin presses a kiss to your forehead. an idea seems to pop into his head just then, and he smirks.

“besides, there's no one i'd rather share my girl with than my best friend anyway.”

heat rushes up your neck again. “share?”

“well yeah, if you’re comfortable with that. i’d love to help my pretty baby bring that dream to life for a night.”

there's snow piling on the sill just outside the bedroom window, but jeno’s forehead still glimmers with a light sheen of sweat in the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

as you and the girls were on the slopes earlier in the day, jaemin pulled jeno aside to talk to him once he knew you were on board with his idea. jaemin had always known jeno thought you were pretty, it was in the way he looked at you and spoke a little softer to you than most. but it didn't bother jaemin; after all, who could really blame him? jaemin had fallen in love with you for a reason.

needless to say though, jaemin’s proposal left jeno completely shocked. he really tried to hide his crush on you so as to not upset anyone; losing his best friend over it wasn't worth the risk and he saw how in love you were, he would feel like a monster if he did anything to ruin that. so learning about your little crush on him made his heart flutter in his chest.

he would have to be an insane man to decline this offer.

so now, you kneel in front of him on yours and jaemin’s bed, your bare knees digging into the plush of the mattress. you’d just showered after your long day of skiing, and the lingering scent of vanilla has jeno reeling already.

“are you nervous?” you ask him. your shorts are riding up, disappearing behind the hem of your thin white tshirt. your hair is still damp, and the wetness seeps through the fabric, making the top of your chest slightly more visible.

jeno gives a hesitant nod, a quiet laugh slipping through his shy smile.

“me too,” you admit, matching his timid demeanor.

jaemin catches your eye from his spot by the window, the ice clinking in his frosted glass as he stands between the sheer curtains.

“she's a good girl, jen. she’ll do what you tell her, right baby?”

you turn back towards jeno and give him an innocent nod. jeno feels embarrassed by how hard he already is just from your sweet doe eyes and the way you puff your lips up in a little pout. you lean forward on your knees, your fingers gripping the sheets. your elbows push your chest forward and jeno has to remind himself he doesn't have to force his gaze away this time.

“tell me what you want, nono,” you coo. jeno swallows hard.

“show me what happened in your dream.”

you obey immediately, crawling forward and situating yourself on his lap. your fingers trace ever so delicately up his abdomen and chest; you can feel how his muscles are tense under his shirt, but when you dip down to press warm, feathery kisses to the side of his neck, the strain fades away almost instantly. you grip his shoulders and rock yourself against him. his fingers dig into your hips and he shudders at the soft, slow friction.

jaemin watches you intently, leaning his weight on his arm against the perch of the window, and he lifts his glass to take a sip. this brand new view of you absolutely captivates him; you look so.. so pretty it makes him twitch in his sweat pants.

with your lips still attached to jeno’s neck your hands find their way down his waistband. you tug at the elastic of his basketball shorts, reaching in to palm him over his boxers, eliciting a low groan that vibrates against your lips. his head falls back and his eyes flutter closed.

pulling away you scoot back enough to pull the fabric away from his waist, watching as his cock springs up and out of his shorts. you keep your gaze locked with his as you grab him by the base and drag your hand slowly up the shaft. jeno whimpers as you pump your fist up and down, squeezing every time your fingers reach the tip.

you lift yourself up and stand on your knees that sit on either side of jeno’s lap, your chest almost pressing against his face as you use his shoulders for balance. he has to suppress the moan that rises in this throat when you shove your shorts and panties off your legs and sink down onto him without warning.

your wet hair sways in front of your face as you bounce slowly up and down on him, adjusting to his length. you’re so warm and soft and you grip around him so well that jeno feels delirious; he might not be able to last long.

your lips suddenly mesh with his and he feels like he's on cloud nine. jeno’s tongue flicks into your mouth and he feels you dig your nails into the back of his neck, tugging at his hair. you whimper into his mouth as jeno kisses you like his life depends on it.

suddenly your hair is tangled in jaemin’s grip and your head is yanked back, your lips pulling away from jeno’s with a wet smack and a loud cry is ripped from your throat. your head falls back onto jaemin’s shoulder and an earth shattering whine echoes through the room. jeno feels embarrassed by the heavy groan he can't help but let out, until jaemin looks at him with a knowing smirk.

“you like that, jen? she’s very vocal.” jaemin’s free hand reaches up to squeeze the base of your neck. “isn’t that right, baby girl? you make such pretty noises when you feel good, yeah?” you nod, reaching a shaky arm up and behind you to scratch at jaemin’s shoulder. you let out a trembling whimper.

“you wanna show jen how good i can make you feel, huh?”

your swollen lips press together; a strangled ‘mhm’ is all you can manage.

jaemin then pulls your hips towards him, a sticky wet sound making you blush as jeno slips out of your folds. the empty feeling doesn't linger for long, however. jaemin replaces him immediately, slamming his hips up into you and hitting the spot that makes you crumble every time.

your face looks so beautiful to jeno in this moment, scrunched up in pleasure. jaemin’s hand still grips your hair to tilt your head back as he rams into you, his face buried in your neck leaving messy purple bruises across your skin.

jeno thinks he might just cum untouched from the sight.

one of your hands reaches out to grip jeno’s cock again in an attempt to aid him in just that, but jaemin is fucking into you so mercilessly that you can’t manage to keep up a steady pace. so jeno grips your hand in his, guiding your arm up and down. tears begin to spill through your lashes and you see stars behind your closed eyes. jeno kisses up your jaw on the side opposite jaemin, making his way up to lock his lips with your own once again.

“ah, a-ahh hah.” you begin to babble and whine and your kiss becomes sloppy. jeno knows you’re close. he begins to pump faster to reach the height you’re at, and as you clench around jaemin’s cock and scream out through your orgasm your head falls forward to rest on jeno’s shoulder. with a humiliatingly loud moan jeno cums with you, sticky thick ropes shooting out and painting your thighs a milky white.

jaemin rides you through your orgasm, and when you start to whine from overstimulation, he pulls out and let’s you fall back on his chest. your vision is blurry, your breath is labored. in jaemin’s warm arms you decide that staying completely conscious would be entirely too difficult, so you allow yourself to drift off.

later that night, you lay in bed between both jaemin and jeno, your exhausted body having been cleaned up and taken care of by the pair of boys. jeno is out cold behind you, snuggled up into your back and snoring softly.

jaemin is settled in front of you. your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him, pressed up against his bare chest. his fingers trace along your side as he hums on your lips, moving slowly and tenderly along with you.

he grabs your chin softly in his fingers, pulling away from the kiss gently. you smile dreamily as his thumb brushes your bottom lip.

“did your dream come true, baby?” he asks, his voice breathy.

you sigh. “it was even better.”

“better?”

“of course, you were there.”

its rare that you fluster jaemin, but his eyes light up at your words and you swear you see him blush in the dim light. he grins at you, leaning down to connect your lips again.

“wait,” you say suddenly, stopping him. though its only been a short while your memory is foggy, and you realize you don't remember jaemin reaching his own high. “jaem, did you not-“

somehow, jaemin reads your mind. “don't worry about that, baby girl. i wanted you to feel good tonight.”

“noo jaem that’s not fair to you,” you whine, beginning to slide your hand down, but he catches it.

“we’ll wake jeno up if you do that, baby,” he whispers. you glace over your shoulder, noticing how jeno is basically spooning you, his face buried in the fabric of your sweatshirt between your shoulders and his arms circling your waist.

you smirk, turning back around.

“why not let him help, then?”

#na jaemin #na jaemin drabble #na jaemin smut #lee jeno #lee jeno drabble #lee jeno smut #na jaemin x reader #lee jeno x reader #nct dream #nct dream drabble #nct dream smut #jaemin drabble #jaemin smut #jaemin x reader #jeno drabble #jeno smut #jeno x reader #judah.doc

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lxverrings · 30 days

Note

Hola!

It's been a while I know 💀

I just have something in my head and can't get my head out of it. Just hear me out- 😭

Spider!Reader being Miles', Gwen's and Mayday's work-mom (basically their mom at work). Reader just loves kids (haha can't relate 💀) and is a natural mother.

Miguel realizes that he wants needs to put a baby in Reader asap. (Breeding kink basically)

- Solecito (aka. Spanish anon 🇪🇸)

Me coming right back to life from how GOOD this ask is... Holy shit you put me in a mood 🥲

Motherly Instinct.

A Miguel O’hara drabble ; MDNI, NSFW under the cut!

Summary: What Solecito said, except I took the creative liberty to ensure reader speaks Spanish and also Mayday kind of has MJ (/other variations of her) so I’m going to add Pav and Hobie!!! Also reader isn’t necessarily a spider-person but def in the medical part of the spider society, so you go ahead with your little imagination <3

R/N: this put me in such a mood I need to find more fics like this smh and extra note, I feel you Solecito, I HATE TODDLERS!!!! babies are fine, so are teens, but TODDLERS??? TODDLERS???? my patience is thin... But I personally would like kids and especially with Miguel O’hara...

Warnings: NSFW under cut!!!! Obviously breeding kink warnings, mating press ig, Miguel physically cannot get his hands off reader...

——

You’ve been in the society for quite a while now. From Miguel’s start to the shablam with Miles and the final acceptance of the boy into the society, even if Miguel was a bit sour about it...

Either way, it’s been long enough so that Miguel put a ring on that finger...

For the time being, your husband hasn’t had time to discuss babies, which is something that you’ve been thinking about, and subtly (not) been bringing up. He promises that someday in the future.

Well, someday is still too far away.

You’ve been at least calming your raging baby fever by talking with the younger spiders and doing your best to take care of their occasional reckless behavior...

“Hey! Heyyy!!! I told you I was fine!” Gwen puffed as she was bandaged up from the shards of glass due to her impromptu landing, Hobie just chuckled— probably his idea...— more than anything to land that way.

“Oi, “ma’...” do me a favo’ ’n check on my ’vitr, thanks, luv.” he mused, he seemed unfazed, despite the wraps tied around his wrists and arms.

“Will do, Hobie...” you smiled warmly, nodding at the younger spider, while Miles nervously fidgeted. “Miles...” you began before you gently patted his arm, “It’s okay, don’t worry.” you smiled reassuringly, trying to soothe his nerves— seeing Gwen and Pavitr get hurt like that, definitely must have altered the nerves in the young man.

“I know... I just... I guess I’m nervous. I would talk it out with mí mamí, but I guess I just... Well. It’s nice talking to you, not lie a replacement, but... Like a supplement? Wait... No that sounds wrong...” he mumbled— which got him out of that loop.

“You sound like a gym bro...” Pavitr finally giggled. Hobie let out a small sigh of relief and chuckled.

“Swolemates, huh?” Hobie chuckled, you rolled your eyes and smiled at them, the little group of preteens filled the room with easy chatter.

You smiled and nodded at them, unaware of Miguel’s gaze from the sight of the cameras that filled the screens of his monitoring.

Honestly, Miguel wasn’t paying much attention, until Lyla’s alarming noises went off.

“What the shock, Lyla?!”

The snarky hologram just smirked, “Oh nothing.”

“I just wanted to show you this!” she chirped with a smile.

He just rolled his eyes for a while— until the screen lit up with your face and the chit-chats with the younger spiders.

Mom? Ma?

Fuck.

He was so down bad.

Embarrassing, really, wasn’t it?

Either way, Miguel just stood and grumbled.

“Lyla. Shock. Call her in.”

“C’monn...”

“Shut the shock up and call her in!”

“C’mon! C’mon!”

“Please, can you just shocking—”

“Yeah, I already called her.” Lyla smirked as Miguel grumbled and swatted her off.

“Boss got you on track, huh ma?” Hobie smirked as you smiled nervously and swatted him off.

“I bet it’s not important...” you mused before Lyla interrupted.

“It’s very important!!!”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure everything is okay? Maybe it’s important— but in a good way?” Gwen offered with a small smile and tilted her head quietly.

“Don’t be that way,” Miles muttered, but he shuddered, perhaps he was getting the PTSD that Miguel put him through.

“You are all such pessimists! The passion is palpable, how can you concentrate when our big bad boss is in loooove?” Pavitr quickly shot back in absolute delight.

You shooed them off with a smile before retreating to Miguel’s... Lair. If you could call it that. Office? Same thing.

You walked off quickly, and entered his office. If you could call it that.

Miguel watched you sternly and crossed his arms as he stalked over your smaller form

“Hola, Miguelito!”

“Ay. You’re finally here.” he grumbled, putting his large hand on the top of your head, pushing back stray locks of hair to kiss your forehead.

You smiled warmly, unaware of the daunting gaze he held on you.

“I have to ask something of you.” he mumbled as he lightly peppered your face in kisses, “És muy importante...”*

“Lo que tú quieras...”*

He stared down for a moment.

“Quiero un bebé.”*

Oh.

You stared up at him nervously, your face flushed as your hands twittered together, and you gazed nervously up at him, “Oh?”

“Shock.” he hissed and held your chin as his kisses became more passionate, “Wanna get you pregnant, I want to give you a little baby. A little baby that looks like you, shock. You would make such a good mommy. Cuidando chamacos qué ni son tuyos... Y lo hacés tan bién...”*

Your breath hitched but you smiled up at him, “Me gustaría tener un bebé contigo...”*

The bed screeched underneath the brutal pace Miguel was going at, how many hours had it been?

Fuck.

Your clammy hands pulling at the sheets and the hiccups and tears that left your eyes as he pounded over and over again.

His tip prodding at your abused cervix, the harsh little veins scratching at your sweetest spots, and the scruffiness of his happy trail scratching at your little pearl of nerves.

God knows how many orgasms you had, your ankles over his shoulders as he bent you in half had your squelching cunt shaking and twitching as tears left your eyes at rapid paces.

“Dios. Ay! Miguel, por favor—Sisisi— ay! Ahí! Ahí!”* you begged in tears, both of you reduced to mingled Spanish as he gruffed and grunted.

“Te voy a llenar otraves, así te gusta. Sí. Tómalo todo. No dejes qué sé salga nada. Te voy a llenar de bebés. Te voy a dejar redonda y hinchada, hasta qué quedes bién embarazada y tengas mí bebé. Hasta qué grites de tan sensible y débil qué estés...”* he hissed back and kissed you with a stronger passion.

He was relentless with his pace as his fingers worked your nipples and he mused something about getting to drink from your swollen boobs, and getting to dress you in maternity clothes— how he couldn’t wait to watch it work wonders on your body. And how well he would take care of you with his baby. How his spoiled little wife would get nothing but the best, and have her with the most beautiful baby imaginable.

No mercy was bestowed on your poor body and less so that night. Your poor cunt was seeping his essence, and every time that a single drop leaked, he gave you another round until you passed out, only to fall asleep to his gentle praises and his gentle caresses.

Because he wouldn’t have it any other way; you would make the perfect mommy, and god was he lucky, that ring on your finger was absolutely perfect...

But what would make this more perfect? A little baby in your arms.

Surely, as soon as the baby was here, it wouldn’t be very long until he wanted another.

♡

Translations:

It’s very important...

Whatever you want.

I want a baby.

Taking care of rascals that aren’t even yours... And you do it so well...

I would like to have a baby with you...

There, there!

I’m going to fill you up again. That’s how you like it. Yes. Take it all. Don’t let anything spill out. I’m going to fill you with babies. I’m going to leave you round and swollen. Until you’re pregnant and you have my baby. Until you scream from how sensitive and weak you are...

#atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #dom miguel o’hara #dom!miguel o’hara

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astermath · 10 months

Text

nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

tag list <3

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serendipityandbenevolence · 1 year

Text

I gotta say, when I passed out last night after writing this post, I didn't expect to wake up to people actually liking it. but hey! thanks for the support. As per my little footnote (if you didn't read it then sucks to be you ig) the people who commented got first choice of which characters im going to write. love y'all by the way <3 which means that first up is... Dottore! (as requested by @amber-sekio and @gallantys)

(I am not playing rn when I say that I spent a large amount of time reading Dottore x reader fanfic so I could figure out how the hell to write him and this is probably still ooc but i did my best)

Contains - Yandere behavior (kept to a minimum though) dottore being a charming ray of a human (he mentions enslaving other countries), discussions of blood and injuries

"Dottore?"

The silence from the hallway was almost deafening. The sudden intense quiet was broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire, a welcome reprieve as your words hung in the air. Perhaps it was stupid, to call for a person who may not be there and who, of all the Harbingers, might be the most likely to still attempt to kill you. A foolish whim, but nearly dying does funny things to a person's rational.

Your door slid open silently, revealing the Doctor himself peering in at you. He did not appear to be wearing his mask, but with the low light and strands of blue hair covering his face, you couldn't make out his features well.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Something was wrong. His voice was too soft, his words too gentle, the whole demeanor was wrong. You knew he had segments that acted differently, but you couldn't imagine Dottore ever being that kind sounding. But you were in too deep.

"Can you come in here, please? I need to ask you a question."

A few murmurs struck up behind him, but Dottore simply nodded and stepped into the room, turning his back to you as shut the door.

"You know..." he mused as he clicked the lock shut.

Ah, there it was. With the door closed, his voice changed, with that hint of cruelty and mania that you had come to associate with him lacing his words. His blood red eyes bored into you, a sly smile creeping across his face.

"Oh, what's with the expression? You seem a little scared of me, Divine One. Am I not as nice as you assumed?"

He didn't allow you to answer, pacing closer to where you lay, buried beneath the pile of blankets.

"There's really no need to be scared of me. After all, I was the one who nursed you so lovingly back to health when you were brought here out of the cold. Aren't I so generous?"

"You healed me?"

You didn't bother hiding your concern. You kicked off your pile of blankets and assessed your body, trying to see if any of your organs were missing.

"My my, do you have such little faith in me? I am a doctor after all. One of the best I'll have you know."

He leaned against the wall by your bedside, giving you a rather unnerving grin.

"Well, you have my undivided attention. What was it that you wanted to ask me?"

You were starting to think that it was a very bad idea to ask for Dottore, but you also suspected that saying you wanted to talk to someone else would go over even worse.

"Yes, I just...wanted to know what I missed while I was asleep. You know, with the other nations."

"Ahh, of course! Well, upon some reflection they seem to have come to the conclusion that you are the actual creator and not a 'fake' as they so cruelly labelled you. Needless to say, quite a few letters of apology have been sent begging for your forgiveness for their dreadful ignorance. Including-"

He reached over to you, laying a shockingly gentle hand upon your bandaged side.

"-the one who nearly killed you."

"You know who it is?" you asked in surprise.

"But of course! Simply assessing your wound, I could tell the weapon and the particular style of it, which made it rather easy to cross-referencing that with the time and location that you were attacked and deduce your attacker with little difficulty. "

"Really?"

He scoffed. "No, of course not. They mentioned in their letter that they were the one who harmed you."

Dottore stepped away from you, pacing towards the door as he pulled a crumpled note from his pocket and tossed it onto the end of your bed.

"You should read it sometime, it is truly a delightfully pathetic read. They only made one mistake."

"Mistake?"

He turned to look at you and you saw that all of the cruel humor that had covered his face was gone, replaced with an infinitely scarier coldness.

"They signed their name. So now, I know exactly who will be my next experiment, when we invade the other nations."

There was silence for a moment, before his features softened and he let out a soft laugh.

"You should sleep. It's the best medicine after all. We can discuss this more in the morning."

Dottore went to turn from you once more, but paused as you opened your mouth.

"Dottore, burn the letter. I don't want to read what they have to say."

A wicked grin flashed across his face as he snatched the letter back up and strode towards the fire.

"You know, I think-"

He tossed the letter into the embers and watched as it instantly caught alight.

"-that you and I will get along very, very well."

Dottore pulled the door open and gave you one last comment before leaving, not even turning his head.

"Sweet dreams, Your Grace."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That took me so long to write guys 😭 but anyway i hope you liked it! like i said earlier, i struggle a bit with dottore because he has all his different segments with different personalities but i think this turned out okay.

Also, the order for the next few harbingers will go as such

Tartaglia- requested by @gallantys and @followingyou247

Pierro - requested by @mistresssasori

Capitano - requested by @moonlite-drabbles @megsthings and @legendarysacrificer-blog (yall really love him clearly)

If you guys want to help me pick the order after that, go ahead in the comments!

also tagging @heizoubeloved in this because you mentioned wanting to see more!

#yandere genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin sagau #dottore x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers

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myhairpintrigger · 1 year

Note

HII IM DEEPLY AMAZED BY UR WRITINGS CUZ U GOT ME GIGGLING LIKE A SCHOOLGIRL AND KICKING MY LEGS. ANYWAYS!!

I would like to request angst to fluff for Aleksander where they were past lovers but reader was killed just like what happened to Luda. Eventually on the present time (Alina's timeline ig), during the winter fete, Aleksander saw reader's face as Alina was doing her magic showcase ig and Aleksander followed reader outside (maybe for fresh air) and then thats when reader started getting flash backs maybe a headache (DO UR MAGIC HERE LOVE) and maybe when whe wakes up, he's asleep by her side and she just says "Sasha?" in that sweet tone and ALL FLUFF

(SORRY IF THIS WAS A BIT LONG, IM KINDA HAVING AN ENERGY OUTBURST)

hi my anon baby <3 i worked on this for a couple of days. sorry it’s so late!!! i feel as if i’ve seen a couple fics like this and i tried to make it as different as i could while still staying within the margins of your request… i hope it’s okay.

warnings: canon typical violence, character death (kind of?) blood, angst, fluff, all of it. just all of it.

word count: 4.7k

of Wildflowers & Damnation

(aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

Some days were easier than others. Just as on the other side of the coin, some days were harder. Inconveniently, today happened to be one of the harder days for Aleksander. He tried to reason with himself often that after nearly five hundred years of living, that he shouldn’t be so affected by loss anymore.

That didn’t make it any easier, unfortunately. He’d lost so much in his life, that he didn’t mourn so heavily, and then he’d lost you.

He’d met you nearly two hundred years after the creation of the fold, and to say he loved you would be to say it was only a bit cold in the arctic, which is to say, it was a gross understatement. He loved you more deeply than he ever knew was possible, and perhaps that’s why it was so terribly hard to accept even all these years later, that you just weren’t alive any longer, while he lived on.

He had tried to bring you back, he really did. Much to his mother’s dismay, for the second time in his life, he resorted to the use of merzost to heal you. But you never woke.

Aleksander stood silently near his door. It was nearly time for him to find Alina, to join the festivities at the Winter Fete, to show the country’s most influential just how powerful the Sun Saint really was. He knew it was time to go, but his mind wouldn’t rest. It wouldn’t stop replaying your last day with him.

The two of you walked hand in hand through the forest that was just behind your small home. Aleksander wasn’t normally one for such plain and domestic types of endeavors, but the wildflowers were blooming in the valley at this time of year, and he wanted nothing more but to see you smile at them, as you did every year before that.

“Do you have a favorite flower, Sasha?” You had asked him softly and looked up at him with a big grin. You better than anyone knew that he wasn’t much of a flower person, but the question was still on your mind as you walked together.

He thought to himself for a moment as he peered down at your excited face and then he shrugged, “Oh, there’s too many to choose from, my lovely. Perhaps a dandelion.”

“Dandelions are weeds, Aleksander.” You pointed out and he shook his head and nudged your side.

“They still bloom, do they not?”

You didn’t seem to like this answer, because you simply huffed under your breath and gave his hand a little squeeze, “Okay but I meant a real flower. Not a little yellow weed.” You insisted.

He thought for a moment longer and then he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline, “Alright. Poppies.” He finally conceded and you seemed to like this answer much more than the last, because you hummed and sidled up to him sweetly, your head resting against the side of his arm.

“Poppies. I would’ve taken you for a rose person.” You mused.

“And why roses?” He asked, curious to hear your response.

“Because. They’re terribly beautiful, but you wouldn’t dare just grab one recklessly. They’re covered in thorns. You have to be gentle with them, work around the thorns. Then it’s yours to have. Kinda like you. Just gotta work around your thorns.” You replied and then let out a tiny giggle, “At least, that’s what I did. Seemed to work out just fine for me.”

Your words made his chest feel as if it was flooding with impossible new amounts of affection for you and he stopped the two of you where you walked and he leaned down to delicately wrap both of his arms around your waist. You eagerly wrapped your tiny arms around his shoulders and he moved down a bit more, closer to your level.

To Aleksander, you were the sweetest thing in the world. Everything from your kind smile to your fiery attitude made him swell with love for you. To love and be loved in return was such a strange concept for him to grasp. Especially when the returned love was given by such a gentle soul such as yourself. He often found himself unworthy of such a love, unworthy of your kindness, your care, your acceptance. You knew of his past transgressions, yet you loved him anyways, always insisting that mistakes get made. Everyone messes up. To the world, he was The Darkling. The Black Heretic. A wicked man with a soul as dark as his eyes. That version of himself even existed in his own mother’s eyes. But to you, he was simply Aleksander.

He held you even tighter now and he buried his face in your hair for a long time before he slowly pulled away from you and brought his hands up to delicately cup your face. He held your face so gently as if he was convinced it would shatter between his fingers and he watched your eyes, fascinated by you.

“What a sweet little thing, you are. What did I ever do in this life to have been blessed with such a love?” He asked softly, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours a few times.

“If I had to guess, it might have had something to do with your sympathy for weeds. I suppose they need love too.” You teased, and he didn’t even bother rolling his eyes at your teasing before he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. You kissed him back and placed your hands on top of his, letting out another little giggle into his mouth. He pulled back and watched you in amusement, a smile spreading across his own face.

“What could you possibly be laughing at during a moment like this?” He asked and you scrunched your nose up and patted the backs of his hands a few times.

“Your beard tickled my lip.” You replied gleefully, your eyes meeting his in a mirthful gaze.

He slowly pulled away from you and took your hand again, pulling you into his side as the two of you started to walk once more, “Shall I cut it then?” He asked and chuckled.

You practically skipped alongside him as the two of you walked and you shook your head, “No. I think you look handsome. But you might need a haircut soon. You’ve got bangs nearly.” You pointed out and reached up with your free hand to push a strand of hair away from his eyes, “Don’t worry. I can do it for you.” You added and laid your head against the side of his arm once again.

He laced his fingers in between yours and gave your hand an affectionate squeeze as he led you down along the dirt path, “How have your lessons with my mother been going?” He asked.

It was your turn to nearly roll your eyes now and you took a quick glance up at Aleksander, “Well. She doesn’t like me much, and I’m still not very good at controlling my fire so… to be continued. Maybe. I don’t know. Perhaps I just don’t want to learn anymore. I have no use for these powers.” You replied and tapped the side of his hand with your pinky finger.

You were an Inferni, a poor one at that. Normally Aleksander would protest and tell you to embrace your gift but he didn’t this time, resigning to let you speak your mind. If you didn’t want to pursue your abilities, he wouldn’t force you, “I don’t think she dislikes you.” He replied down at you finally.

“Oh, I think she does. She’s always got a backhanded comment locked and loaded just for me.” You argued with a little sigh.

Aleksander knew it wasn’t you that she disliked in specific. It was just the fact that his mother disliked the fact that he was selfish enough to let himself love you. She always insisted that he’d ruin you, just like the girl he loved before you. She insisted that he wasn’t meant for you, always telling him to set you free before he inadvertently broke your wings. Deep down, he knew his mother was right. She usually was. But he couldn’t bring himself to ever make you leave. Not now. He was too far in.

He shook his head a couple of times and sighed, “She’s not exactly inviting. But that’s not to say she dislikes you. Don’t pay her any mind, my love.” He replied and then brought your intertwined hands up to his lips so that he could place a few light kisses to your knuckles.

He lowered your hands back down between the two of you once again and he glanced up over the hill in the distance. You two were nearly to the small valley and he could tell your excitement was growing, because your steps got more hurried and you occasionally would let out giddy squeals and hums.

A snap of a stick on the path behind you had Aleksander sweeping you in front of him as he turned around to survey the area. The two of you had stopped walking now and he looked around behind both of you, finding nothing.

“What was that?” You asked quietly and glanced up at your lover, feeling a bit uneasy.

“I’m not sure, darling.” He replied cautiously and turned back around to glance down at you.

Your eyes were already fixed up on his face. You didn’t look scared, but you didn’t look like you felt too secure either, and he didn’t blame you. Something had shifted in the forest around you two, there was a strange feeling. You grabbed onto his arm tightly and you gave it a little tug.

“Sasha, we don’t have to go any farther. We can head back home now.” You whispered, but he shushed you softly and turned back around slowly to check the path behind the pair of you.

A small snapping sound came again, but this time it was now in front of the two of you. There was a little shuffle and another snap and he felt you yank his arm again.

“Aleksander.”

He turned around as your grip on his arm loosened and he looked down at your face, which was now drained of color. You wobbled a bit and fell forward onto him, and he swiftly caught you with a shocked exclamation of your name.

He held you upright and that’s when he saw the arrow that had lodged itself in your back and stuck out through your chest. He wildly looked around and had spotted two men in thick furs darting out from behind a tree. Drüskelle. He had barely a second to move the two of you before they let loose another arrow and he retaliated quickly.

One of the men let out a yell in their native tongue and Aleksander wasted no time in quickly diving down to the ground with you as another arrow flew. He gently sat you up against one of the small trees on the edge of the path and turned around, and with zero hesitation, finished the two men off easily with The Cut. As they fell to the ground, he looked around for more. When none came, he turned to you and scooped you up into his arms as quickly as he could, not daring to pull the arrow from your chest quite yet.

“Hey, hey. Y/n. You’re going to be alright.” He insisted.

But the way your head lolled to the side weakly made him think otherwise. You didn’t respond to him, but you looked up into his eyes, tears beading in the corners of yours.

“We’re going home. I’m taking you to my mother, we can fix this.” He promised and didn’t wait a single second more before he was dashing off down the path with you hanging all but limply in his arms. He could feel the warmth of your blood seeping through the sleeve of his shirt and he grit his teeth, refusing to let himself panic. You were going to be okay. You had to be. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Aleksander was going to let you go now that he had finally found you after years upon years of being alone. He didn’t notice the tears gathering in his own eyes until they were falling down his cheeks and you let out a distressed sound.

“No, Sasha. Don’t cry. It’ll be okay.” You whispered hoarsely, and the sound of your voice only made it worse.

He ran straight out of the forest and through the field behind your home before he finally ran through the back door. He laid you down on your side atop the round wooden table in the middle of the room and he yelled for his mother, who came shortly after he called.

“Mother. We need to do something. Drüskelle, in the forest attacked us, and they-“ he started frantically, only to be cut off by the older woman.

“There is nothing you can do, Aleksander.” She said shortly and then shook her head, “We don’t have a healer nearby. We aren’t healers ourselves.”

He looked over at you, and you seemed so much smaller than usual now, curled up on the table with an arrow still protruding from your back, “Mother, there has to be a way. I will not let my lover die.”

“There is no way. There is no natural way for us to save lives. You know this. Bid her goodbye.” She said sternly.

His head perked up a bit and he reached out to make sure you were still alive by touching your pulse.

Weak, but still there. Just barely.

“But I can. I can do it, I’ve practi-“

“You cannot!” She protested and held her hand up to her son, “You will not! You will take whatever time you have left and say goodbye, for it is only the way of life. We see life come and go and we remain. Not even you can change that. I’ll give you space. That is final.” Baghra said sharply and turned on her heel to leave the two of you alone.

Aleksander was at your side in half a second, and he crouched down to be level with your face. Tears were rolling across your face and your lip trembled fearfully.

“It doesn’t hurt, Sasha. Don’t worry about me please.” You whispered and he reached out to brush tears from your eyes.

“I’m going to fix this. Okay? You aren’t going to die today. I swear it.” He promised, but his faith was running thin. He reached out and he grabbed your arm gently and held you in place, “I’m going to remove the arrow, okay? And then we’re going to heal you.”

“You are not a healer, Aleksander. Don’t do this.” You begged softly and he looked down into your eyes again. He pursed his lips and shook his head a few times.

“I won’t lose you. I won’t walk this earth without you by my side, do you understand?”

“No, Aleksander, no.” You protested, trying your best to sound stern like Baghra had, but your voice faltered and he knew you didn’t have much time left.

He ignored your protests and grabbed hold of the arrow and quickly pulled it out of your back, and whatever voice you had left was spent on the wail you let out as your blood began to freely spill out over the table. He quickly threw himself over you, only to find you shaking. He looked down at your face to learn that your shaking was from your silent sobs and he frowned deeply.

He was going to save you. It was going to be alright.

He closed his eyes and placed his hand over the bleeding hole in your back, wracking his brain for the strength to use the magic so forbidden that had been abused by his ancestor, to heal you. To save you.

He let out an agonized yell and finally felt the same cold, pricking sensation spread through his veins that had occurred the day he created The Fold. He felt stinging in his fingertips as he pushed out everything he could from his hand into your wound. Into you.

At long last, the stinging stopped and subsided, and Aleksander realized you’d gone still under his touch. He felt a little splash of relief and he turned you around onto your back, only to find your eyes closed. He felt his face drain of all color and he shakily reached up to feel your pulse against your throat.

Nothing.

To say the days following were that of pure anguish was to put it lightly. He’d taken you to the valley of millions and millions wildflowers and laid you to rest there. At least he knew you’d be somewhere you loved.

For weeks after your death, Baghra was full of warnings and disappointment for him, chastising him for using merzost once more.

“You don’t know what you’ve done, Aleksander. You may have very well not healed your lover, but you don’t know what you’ve done. This will come back to you one day. You will regret it. There will be punishment.” She warned.

Not that he cared.

“Let me regret it. Let it haunt me for the rest of my days, woman. It’s not the only ghost that hangs above my head, now.”

You didn’t recall much. At all. All you knew is that one day you suddenly did recall, as if it was the beginning of your life.

Amnesia the doctor called it. You’d likely had a head injury and forgotten things, that’s all.

Whatever you were before, whatever life you led, it was erased from your mind without a single clue as to what it had been prior. In the last few years that you started recalling, you’d worked as a dress maker in the city of Ketterdam. When one of your clients had graciously invited you to come to Ravka’s Winter Fete with her and her daughter in trade of two elegant gowns for them, you’d accepted her offer immediately.

So there you stood, in the hallway of the crowded Ravkan palace, eyes traveling the faces of everyone who passed by. The two girls you’d attended with had gone off to greet the royal family, and you’d stayed back, opting to survey the crowd instead. You’d heard word that the Sun Summoner was going to be putting on a display in only a few short moments, and just as the thought crossed your mind, it all began. It started with a whirlwind of activity, and you watched the Grisha throughout the room showcase their abilities skillfully, and the sight invoked a strange feeling deep within your chest. You had the sudden urge to bring your hands together just as they did, feeling as if you could perform alongside them. You fought the urge back and flexed your hands a bit at your sides, shaking off the strange feeling.

Your eyes travelled to the front of the room and they fell upon a girl and a man, standing shoulder to shoulder, both wearing black. You assumed it was the Sun Summoner and who you had heard to be General Kirigan, the fierce Ravkan general who also happened to be Grisha. As the pair began their display of power, you felt your head begin to ache dully, and once the Sun Summoner’s light lit up the entire room, the pain in your head only grew sharper.

Everyone in the room seemed to be filled with excitement, and as the display was done, the volume seemed to increase tenfold, making you clutch your head between your palms.

The pair at the front of the room turned around and when you saw The General’s face, you blinked a few times. A thought clawed at the inside of your mind, begging to be let free. But you didn’t know how. You didn’t even know what it was. He seemed to notice you shortly after you noticed him, and you could’ve sworn you saw a look of complete astonishment cross his face as quick as a flash of lightning.

Suddenly the room seemed to blur out as if in your periphery and you gasped as little flickers of imagery flashed behind your eyes.

A field of flowers, the darkest eyes you’d ever seen, and fire. You furrowed your brow together and you leaned your hand up against the nearest wall, your chest rapidly rising and falling with short, quick breaths. Disorientation fell upon you and you found yourself stumbling through the crowd of partygoers and out of the room. The bustling hallway was a struggle for you to navigate, but you eventually prevailed and found the door to the courtyard. You all but went falling out the door and you stumbled clumsily until you reached grass and you held your hand to your chest as you stopped running. You felt sick to your stomach and your hands began to feel clammy and you swore that you heard someone calling your name- though you were unsure how you knew the name was yours- because you hadn’t been called by it before. You couldn’t even respond in anyway before your eyes rolled back into your head, and you were collapsing backwards towards the ground.

Aleksander felt insane when he followed you out of the palace. He’d had days where all he could do was think of you, but never once had he seen your face anywhere but his mind. He called after you, but you didn’t seem to notice, and if you did, you didn’t respond. He walked briskly up to you just in time to watch you collapse, and he lunged forward to catch your falling body in his arms awkwardly. The strange angle at which he held you up at made you look so small and fragile, and he hoisted you up into his arms. It couldn’t be you. There was no possible way it could have been. He didn’t dare look down at your face for a few moments, standing there in the courtyard with his jaw set firmly.

Finally, he did dare to look down, and when he did, he almost found himself collapsing with you. Sure, you were unconscious and your hair had become a bit tousled, but there was no mistaking the face that he saw. It was yours. His y/n.

He looked around wildly, trying to come up with an explanation for the mere fact that his very dead lover was here. How you were here. He buried you. He reached up with one hand and he brushed the backs of his fingers across your cheeks. He refused to let himself feel relieved or happy or excited. If this was the punishment his mother had promised him years ago, he wouldn’t give in. But he couldn’t just leave you. Not out here, not like this. He stood with you in his arms for a while longer in contemplation before ultimately deciding he’d take you back to his chambers and wait for you to wake. If you woke. Then he’d proceed to ask who you were, to figure out what was happening.

He carried you off through the night towards the nearly deserted Little Palace, and once inside, he made a beeline for his bedroom. Once he reached the shelter of his room, he closed the door fast and locked it, looking around to make sure no one was inside. He promptly walked you to his bed and laid you out on it, staring down at you. The urge to lay at your side was consuming his every thought and he ground his teeth together, fighting back a round of tears.

Yours was the face he saw when he fell asleep. Every night. Some dreams were pleasant. You and him in the flowers, or even in bed together, happily. He’d hear your laugh, your hums, your sweet voice… all of it. Some dreams were not so kind, and these were the ones where he relived your last moments over and over again.

His endless patience had seemed to run out and his will to remain complacent broke. He’d take the pain of having to lose you again if this wasn’t real, he’d be damned all over again to feel the emptiness of your loss if only just a moment of his time could be spent by your side one last time.

So he kicked off his boots and removed his black decadent kefta, and he slid down into the bed next to you, his eyes not leaving your face once. He reached out across the minimal space he gave between the two of you and he grazed his fingertips across your cheekbones, up into your hair, down the side of your neck and along your jaw. Everywhere. He traced the outline of your lips and he swiped the pad of his thumb across your chin. Not a single thing had differed from his memory. If you’d told him he’d plucked you out from behind his eyes and laid you out in front of him, he would’ve believed it.

Oh yes, if he was to be damned with the consequences of trying to save you, then he’d take them. He’d take them graciously if it meant one last night at your side.

He was unsure of when he fell asleep, but he didn’t ever realize that he had until he felt hands on his face. His eyes shot open and he expected sunlight to light up his room, but instead it was dark, with only a glimmer of silver light filtering through the window. He frantically looked across from him on his bed and he reached up to push the hands away from his face, but once his eyes focused in the moonlit room, he dropped his hands and found himself lost in your eyes instead.

Your hands stayed against his cheeks and you seemed to be at a loss for words. He knew the feeling well. It was mutual.

The state of unconsciousness you had fallen into had been one of unrest. Memories upon memories began to flood your head all at once. Still, you were unaware of how you were alive and how you had come to be unearthed, but you assumed it must have had something to do with the merzost that you so vehemently opposed him using.

He reached out to touch your face so gently, as if he thought you were only a figment of the moonlight and would disappear underneath his touch. When you didn’t, he let out a sigh, one that sounded terrified and relieved all at the same time. You couldn’t find your voice while you stared at him, your mouth wanting to form a thousand words all at once.

Until it settled on just one.

“Sasha?”

To Aleksander, this was the sweetest sound he’d heard in his entire long life, and he couldn’t help the tears that loosed themselves from his eyes. He could only nod in response as he wrapped his arms around your small form and he pulled you against his chest.

If this was damnation, then he’d embrace it with open arms, and if this was a second chance to save you from the consequences of his past, then he’d do better this time. Whatever the case may be, he wasn’t going to leave this room until he was sure you wouldn’t evaporate into nothing. He laid his hand ever so protectively against the back of your head and he leaned his own head down until his lips touched your hairline. He could’ve whispered a million things to you at that moment, promised you everything, sung you praises and profess his love until he ran out of the breath to do so with, but he’d never been one for that many words all at once. So he leaned down to press his lips against yours, and it said everything he couldn’t all at once. He pulled back slowly and he tipped your head back a bit so that he could gaze down at your face, unchanged by all this time.

And so he uttered out a promise, one that he intended to keep this time, no matter the cost.

“Yes, my sweet girl. It’s me, and I will never lose you again.”

#aleksander morozova x you #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling #the darkling imagine #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #grishaverse #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone

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httpsuniverse · 10 months

Text

DRESS | JD14

wherein singer!y/n shocks her fans when she reveals her relationship with a person her fans obviously didn’t expect, f2 driver, jack doohan.

↳ TYPE: ig au

↳ PAIRING: jack doohan x singer!reader (face claim: aespa’s karina)

↳ DETAILS AND WARNINGS: fluff/romance

↳ AUTHOR’S NOTE: some drafts i’ve written/made, just needed to clean up the drafts. there’s more but i’ll edit them first before i post em! enjoy ❤️

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © newuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

yourusername

liked by yourbffsig and 1,874,737 others

yourusername last moments with my black hair 🥹 any guesses which color i’m choosing? (it’s my first time dyeing my hair i’m nervous 😓)

view all 397,826 comments

yourbffsig i think you’ll look good without hair :D

yourusername i’m blocking you!! 🫵

yourbffsig KIDDING!! love youu 😌

yourusername love u 🙄

user omg queen!! what if you go blonde 🥺

user i can’t see her going blonde though, it’s a bad idea 😩 purple would look good!

user the day y/n dyes her hair is the day i go insane.

user no because she literally has one of the healthiest hair i’ve ever seen and now she’s planning on dyeing it 😭 what if the hairdresser sabotages her hair and she ends up bald

user GIRL WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT THE POSSIBILITY OF HER GOING BALD IM CRYINGF

user maam what if you bleach your hair 😌

user STFU FONT GIVE HER IDEAS IM GONNA BAWL

57 weeks ago

jackdoohan

liked by danielricciardo, antoniogiovinazzi and others

jackdoohan happy to come away from the #spanishgp with a p2 and most importantly solid championship points, let’s keep it rolling into monaco next weekend! #f2

view all 103 comments

user still can’t believe you cut off your hair 😭 i’m still mourning over it, jack.

user congrats mate! 👏🏻

user 🔥🔥

56 weeks ago

yn.updates

194,836 likes

yn.updates y/n seen today in barcelona with a bleached hair 🎀 sources said she came with her best friend to watch both f1 and f2 races!

view all 20,732 comments

user sometimes i forget her best friend is literally a nepo baby, a fia nepo baby to be exact

user huh what

user yeah lol her dad’s one of the board of directors of fia! she was often seen in the paddock when she was young and i think she’s close with mick as there’re some pictures of them both in and out of the paddock!

user WHATTTTT

user WHERE TF IS THAT GIRL WHO SAID Y/N GOING BLONDE IS NOT A GOOD IDEA

user i apologize 😔

user ok but like whats the reason behind her bleaching her hair 🤨

56 weeks ago

yourusername

liked by yourbffsig, jackdoohan and 3,826,829 others

yourusername 22 coming your way 😉

view all 282,727 comments

user WHAT.

user OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG Y/N ALBUM!!!!!!

user OOOOO SHE LOOKIN GOOD 👀

user WHAT THE FUCK IS JACK DOOHAN DOING IN HER LIKES !!!!

user it’s so random pls

user 😭 icb it’s a canon event lmfao

user i think it’s because they met(?) each other in barcelona! i think her bff introduced them to each other 😄

user why haven’t i heard that y/n went to the gp 😧 i was literally there

user she went there for a music video filming i think, she just went to the race during her break she said it during one of her ig lives hahaha

51 weeks ago

[ T I M E S K I P ; A YEAR LATER ]

yourusername

liked by yourbffsig, jackdoohan, mickschumacher and 1,839,938 others

yourusername it’s been a little over a year since 22 was released! as you all know, i’ve written my first full album last 2022 and it has a special place in my heart, as the title song tells the story about being young and carefree ❤️ thank you all so much for all the love you’ve given 22 ✨ as a thank you, i’ve released a new song titled DRESS, which is now available to all streaming platforms!

i’d like to express my deepest gratitude to my label, my manager, my friends, my family and last but not least, my muse–the reason behind this piece, jackdoohan 🤍 this is for you, my jacko!! happy anniversary to us, my racer <3

enjoy the surprise song, everyone! sending you all love, xo.

view all 241,829 comments

user y/n??? jack??? what???

user WHY NOW WHEN I’M ALREADY COMFY IN BED!!!

user y/n, when was this???

user im so confused rn

user I AM IN CONFUSION, EXPLAIN, Y/N, EXPLAIN!!!!!

user can jack fight tho 🤨

user NOT ME LOSING Y/N TO JACK DOOHAN 💔💔

user this wasnt on my bingo card this year

yourbffsig congratulations lovie!! happy for you and jack 🥰 thank me yall hahaha happy anniversary and stay in love!! 🤍✨

— ❤️ by yourusername

mickschumacher loved the song, y/n!! happy for both of you 🤍

— ❤️ by yourusername

jackdoohan happy anniversary, angel 🤍 i love you and all the songs and poems you’ve written for me 😍

yourusername love you soooo much, jacko 💞

user SONGS?!?!?! THERE’S MORE?!?!?

yourusername will be released soon 🤫

user WHAT THE HECK!!!

jackdoohan

liked by yourusername, mickschumacher, danielricciardo and others

jackdoohan so amazed to see you on stage tonight, beautiful. you looked absolutely stunning and happy doing what you love. congratulations on your first concert, i love you ❤️

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yourusername crying!! you really surprised me when i saw you in the crowd 🥺 i almost didn’t finish the song and was thinking of running straight to you!!

yourusername the flowers are pretty btw!! 😍

jackdoohan just like you ;)

yourusername OH??

mickschumacher there are children on this app.

yourbffsig tell them to go away, let these two be in love!!

user oh idk which one i wanna be...do i wanna be jack or do i wanna be y/n

user he came right after his race yall, and on her concert’s first night. if he wants to, he would.

user damn it, when will i be in love... GOD I SEE WHAT YOU DO TO OTHERS ?! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN !!

user the hand placement yall :( hand fucking placement!!!!

user jack is SOOOO in love 🥺

user “you looked absolutely stunning and happy doing what you love” haha guess who will sleep on the highway tonight haha

user you 🤝 me

#jack doohan imagine #jack doohan x reader #f2 imagine #f2 x reader #f2 instagram au #formula 2 imagine #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 x you #jack doohan x yn

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humanbug · 1 year

Text

Inky Hearts pt.2

Modern!Ellie is a tattoo artist and you just became her lovely little muse.

a/n: whoaaa part 2!!! this one gets exciting!! i am not sure if ill make a part 3. i was gonna put abby in this but it just didn't feel like the right storyline. this is proofread but also written at like 4am soooo there might be mistakes. comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! my asks are open for requests or just to chat!! i hope you enjoy!!

| NSFW 18+ MDNI |

Songs mentioned: Down the Line by Beach Fossils, Spooky by Dusty Springfield, Left Hand Free by alt-J

warning(s): smoking/weed, y/n is used (only once), SMUT!!!, oral (r!receiving), sex while high (both parties consenting)

“God! C’mon don’t be such a baby and just ask her!”

“Would you let it go! I’m not gonna do anything. We’re just friends.”, you say for what feels like the millionth time. “For now!”, she retorts. You lean back in your seat laughing as Bailey’s face twists at your stubbornness. Knowing she’s right but being way too stubborn to give her that satisfaction.

You and her had decided to grab coffee, realizing it had been too long since you had spent time together. She had seen your most recent instagram post and texted you a string of texts including the words, ‘bitch’ ‘cutie’ ‘skank’ and ‘hottie’, which was pretty typical given that you had been friends since high school.

It had been about three weeks since you got your tattoo and you and Ellie had been texting almost every single day. You had made up the ‘smooth’ excuse of "My ig dm notifs don’t come through :( can we text instead?”, hoping that the small fib worked. Luck was on your side because just like that you had her number and before you knew it you two were choosing to facetime instead of text. Neither of you had realized it, but you were both building up the courage to ask the other out. Although neither of you were successful, typing out the message and deleting them right after.

You had told Bailey about the hottest tattoo artist you had ever had. How you had definitely been flirting during your appointment and how much Ellie undercharged you, still angry about that part. She immediately began trying to convince you to ask her out but you had said over and over again that you are just friends…for now.

Putting her elbows on the table, “So anyway stubborn bitch! Did you hear who Sophia started dating!?”. You and her gossip and talk absolute filth about all the people you know, laughing and cringing at your bullying.

–

“Oh my god! She is so lying! You have to call her out-”, Bailey starts, face quickly morphing into confusion as your cheeks flush and you mumble ‘oh my god!’. Looking down at your drink, trying to become invisible you whisper, “Bailey that’s her!”.

Being the ever so subtle person she is, she whips her head over her left shoulder, looking back at you with her mouth in a big ‘O’ shape. “She’s SO hot! Oh my god! You absolutely have to ask her out. I’m definitely not taking no for an answer after seeing her in person.”, she exclaims, peering over her shoulder a few more times.

Given that it’s a rather loud coffee shop and you and Bailey are tucked into the corner, you try not to be disappointed that she hadn't seen you as she grabs a tray of four drinks and walks out.

Twiddling with your rings you chew on your bottom lip, “You know what? Fuck it. I’m gonna ask her to hang out.”, you state, the authority in your voice is not the most convincing but fuckin’ fake it till’ you make it, right?

–

Your thumbs hover over your keyboard. Taking a deep breath you hit send. Tossing your phone to the foot of your bed as if it’s a bomb and falling back against your pillows, arms covering your face. Closing your eyes, your mind wanders back to your tattoo appointment. The way her hands felt over your plush thighs, the way you had to pull your panties higher so she could access your skin and how, unknowingly to you, she had eyed the way it created a perfect outline of your cunt causing her mouth to water, the way her brows furrowed when she was in deep focus. Starting to imagine the way her strong hands would feel lowering down and-

Shooting up at the feeling of your phone vibrating your hands dig through the sheets to find it. Sliding it open you pull the notification screen down, not wanting to open the text just yet.

✯Ellie✯ : hey! ya i would like that, this week is super packed for…

‘Damn it! Okay, I have to open it.’

✯Ellie✯ : hey! ya i would like that, this week is super packed for me. i am booked up almost everyday butttt maybe you could come by the shop? if you don’t want too that’s totally cool

Biting back a smile at her rambling, excitement bubbles inside you as you respond. Typing out a message and deleting it several times, anxiety making your palms sweaty and heart race.

✿Y/N✿ : Yes! That would be perfect! Just let me know when you have a break! :)

–

Bopping your head to Down the Line as you drive through the intersection just before the tattoo shop. Parking your car in the lot across the street you pull the mirror down checking over yourself. Grabbing your two bags and water bottle you head across the street to the shop.

Opening the door and stepping inside you walk over the front desk. The girl with dark hair is there talking with another girl with black hair in a short choppy haircut and bangs. The girl you have never seen before sports several piercings. Walking up hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, the girl with longer dark hair turns to you with a warm smile.

“Hi! How can we help you?”, she asks in a kind voice.

“I’m here for Ellie! I don’t uh- have an appointment but she should be expecting me!”, you say quietly not wanting to sound like a walk-in demanding to see Ellie. Feeling the girl with black eyeing you intensely, your cheeks flush.

“For sure! She should be at her station, her client just left. You can just head back.”, giving her an appreciative smile, you walk through the curtained work stations, hearing the buzz of guns and low chatter.

Peaking your head into her station you see her sitting on the rolling chair, sketching something on her iPad. She hasn’t noticed you just yet so you observe her in her element. Her hair is tied half up half down, the short choppy strands falling around her face. You wonder how someone can make black jeans and a loose t-shirt look so good. Clearing your throat and smiling as your eyes meet.

“Hey! Perfect timing! I’ve got like an hour and a half before my next client.”, swiveling around as she speaks.

Holding up one of the two bags in your arms you take a step forward, “Um- I brought you lunch. I- I figured pasta was a safe option so I brought pesto pasta with sun-dried tomatoes!”

Ellie can feel the appreciation practically running through her veins, not remembering the last time someone made lunch for her. Her lips curve as she runs a hand over the back of her neck.

“That- You are too sweet. I really wasn’t expecting you to bring me lunch. There’s a table out back, let’s eat out there?”, she says as she gets up, closing her iPad and pocketing her phone.

Giving her a bright smile you nod your head. Following her out of the shop you admire her physique from behind.

‘Does this girl look good from every angle? Yes. Yes, she does.’

–

“Holy fuck! Did you make this!?”, she exclaims, savoring the pasta.

“Well- uh- not exactly! It’s from Trader Joe's! But it’s my favorite pasta kind of ever. I’m really glad you like it!”, you giggle as you explain the pasta is unfortunately not homemade.

“Well Joe knows how to make some good fucking pasta.”, she says with a mouthful of noodles. Laughing at the green-eyed goofy girl in front of you as you take a bite of your pasta.

‘Just ask! Don’t be a baby!’, your belly flips as you work up the courage.

Fiddling with your rings and glancing up, just to see her already looking at you, “So…what are you doing Saturday? My friend Bailey is having a small party at her place and I was uh- I was wondering if you wanted to come? With me, of course- or not of course. Just with me.”, you ramble out.

Giving a cocky smile at your nervousness, she tries her damndest to conceal her own racing heart and sweaty palms, “That sounds perfect. I’d love to go. With you, of course.”, her response taking a teasing tone.

Giggling at your own embarrassing rambling you bite back a smile, “I will pick you up at five. It’s nothing fancy, just a casual thing. I am planning on bringing weed.”

“Just a casual thing, perfect.”, she hums with a smile.

–

Tying the laces of your docs you rush out of your apartment. Checking your phone and cursing at the time, it was four fifty and Ellie’s place was about fifteen minutes away. Rushing through the halls, your purse clutched in one hand, phone under your chin, and yanking your jacket on.

–

Pulling up the address that Ellie had sent you, you send a voice memo that you are parked out front. You have Spooky playing low as you drum your fingers on the steering wheel. Glancing around you see Ellie rushing down the steps on the porch. Shamelessly running your hungry eyes over her. She wears a pair of light-wash black jeans, sitting perfectly on her legs, not too loose and not too baggy, a black hoodie, and black converse.

You can’t help but grin as you realize you match. You had chosen an all black outfit too. Finding your favorite black skirt to show off all of the art on your legs, black tights to compensate for the chilly night air, a snug black cropped shirt that showed off a perfect amount of cleavage and your leather jacket.

“Well don’t you clean up well!”, you tease as she slides into the car, sharing a smile as she chuckles. As she buckles up you hand her your phone, “Put whatever you want on! Bailey’s is like twenty minutes away.”

Ellie finally takes the chance to glance at you. Feeling desire pool in her belly as she sees what you’re wearing. How your hands maneuver the steering wheel, rings and manicured nails tapping along to Left Hand Free. How your skirt has ridden up your plush thighs sitting dangerously high. How the skirt hugs your soft belly and your top shows enough skin to see the glimpse of a tattoo and how it hugs your tits perfectly. Fucking hell, she know’s she ogeling but can’t find it in her to give a shit. She is torn from her trance when she realizes you're leaning dangerously close. Her freckled cheeks flush and she clears her throat when you reach in the back seat and lean back with your purse in hand. Oh. You arrived at the party, Ellie hadn’t even realized you parked.

You step out of the car and shimmy your skirt back down and smooth your hair out. Ellie steps out and looks over at you, admiring you even more. Thank god it’s getting dark and you can’t see her beet red face.

“You ready? We’re a tiny bit late so Bailey is probably gonna chew me out but she’s a sweetheart I promise.”, you assure her as you both walk up to the house. Stepping through the door the house is warm with bodies, liquor, and weed. It is not painfully packed but nonetheless you grasp Ellie’s hand in yours and make your way to the kitchen, saying ‘hi’ to most of the people you pass.

“You’re late bitch! And because you’re late you owe me a shot!”Bailey's voice fills the kitchen, she clearly started partying a long time ago. Stepping over to her you give her a hug, her bright pink outfit a stark contrast against your black one.

“Anything you want babe! But first, Bailey, this is Ellie. Ellie, this is Bailey, my best friend!”, you exclaim loud enough to be heard through the voices filling the space.

–

“You’ve been quiet.”, you say as you and Ellie finally escape the kitchen. Finding your way to the room you knew would be a lot more chilled out.

“Have I?”, she hums, walking behind you practically being your shadow.

Finding exactly what you were looking for, you plop down onto the couch, toeing your heavy boots off, shifting to face where Ellie sits and draping your legs over hers.

‘Oh boy, that shot worked quick!’

“Yeah, you have! Is everything okay?”, you ask, tilting your head.

“Yeah, I’m good! I think I just get a little anxious at parties.”, she says quietly, almost seeming embarrassed. Your bottom lip pokes out and you grab her hand that was resting on your legs, thumb circling her knuckles.

“It’s okay! I get it. If you wanna head out just let me know! No shame, I swear. Or we can get some fresh air! Or just chill here!”, you get lost in your ramble a little, wanting to make sure she knows there’s no pressure for anything.

Looking at you she chuckles, “You’re cute when you ramble, you know that?”, grinning when you blush and look down to fiddle with her fingers.

You have the sudden realization you brought weed!

“You wanna smoke?”, you ask, looking up at her with wide-eyes.

“Now we’re talking. Yes. Yes, I do.”, she grins.

–

“And- and so- and then- she-”, you are laughing too hard to finish your own story, stomach cramping from how hard you’re laughing.

Ellie’s head is thrown back in laughter finding your lack of composure funnier than the story you were telling.

It seemed after every puff of the joint you two shared you would somehow end up closer. Now as the roach has been tossed onto the coffee table in front of you two, you are practically tangled together.

Finally gaining some composure, you look at her, hands tangled together as you lean against her.

“Okay! Okay! I’ve got a good one, what was your first time getting high like?”, you ask, face inching closer as the questions go by.

She lets out a breathy laugh, remembering the painfully embarrassing memory.

“Fuck…okay so me and my friend Dina decided to get high together for the first time-”

“Is that the girl who works the front desk at the shop!”, you interrupt cluelessly high.

She chuckles and gently grasps your chin, tilting your head to look at her with red rimmed eyes, “Yes it is but are you gonna let me finish my story, hm?”, she teases you in a gentle tone but nonetheless it makes you rub your thighs together. Ellie’s eyes flicker down at the motion, quickly darting back up.

Nodding your head with a quiet hum you zip your lips and give her your full attention. She chuckles and releases your chin, her hand going back into your tangle of fingers.

“So we decided to get high together for the first time and we were idiots who thought’ Let's do an edible for our first time getting high!’, but we ate…the whole fucking thing”, she chuckles at the ‘uh oh’ face you make at her.

“Yeah, so it went about as bad as you can imagine. We had no clue just how fucking strong edibles are especially when you eat the whole god damn brownie! Dina ended up sitting in the tub the whole time because she insisted it was the only place she was safe. On the other hand I thought I was fucking dying but was too nervous to tell my Dad what we had done…so we just waited it out and to this day it felt like I was high for seventy-two hours straight.”, she finishes laughing and shaking her head at how stupid they were.

A laugh spills out of you and you fall into Ellie’s chest in laughter, “That is terrible! You poor poor stupid kids!”. As your laughter fades you find yourself melting into her chest and laying your head against her.

Loving the feeling of your body pressed flush against hers she brings her left arm up and around your body keeping you close to her. Feeling a calm confidence from the weed floating through your body you tilt your head up, faces so close you can feel her breath. Leaning forward you place your lips on hers, sighing when her hand that was around you wraps in your hair and pulls in. Your tongues meet each other is a match for desperation, her hands wandering and resting at the edge of your skirt. Your hips unconsciously shift toward her hand and your lips begin to travel to her jaw and her neck, switching between kisses and love bites that make Ellie shudder and grip your body.

Kissing up to her ear you gently nip at it, whisper, “Take me to the bathroom.”. Smirking when your whispering causes her to shiver.

–

As soon as the door is shut you are back on each other. Kissing in a frenzy. You nip at her bottom lip with a smile. Her lips meet your neck with kisses and bites, pulling moans and whines from you. She grabs your waist and you jump onto the counter behind you. You shiver as her kisses and bites move toward your chest as she leaves even more marks on you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”, she mumbles against your skin, singing praises into your body. Lust floods your lower belly and you can feel the embarrassing puddle forming in your panties. A gasp escapes you at the feeling of her ripping your tights, fingers finding your weeping cunt.

“Fuck baby. All this for me? Fuck you’re makin’ such a mess already.”, she speaks against your skin. The feeling of her lips on your skin, her words making you shiver, and her fingers teasing you over your panties is too much but not enough.

“Ellie please.”, you whine out, feeling desperate. She chuckles at your state, feeling proud at how fucked out you look and she hadn’t even taken off your panties.

“What baby? Tell me what you want.”, she mumbles against your lips, holding eye contact.

“Please touch me!”, you whimper, feeling shameless at the admission.

“Such a good fucking girl.”, she praises as she pulls your panties aside and teases your sensitive clit with her thumb. Pulling at your tights she mumbles, “Take these off.”

You wiggle your tights off kicking them away and lift your butt as Ellie pulls your panties off, tossing them with your tights. A loud whine comes from you as Ellie drops to her knees and lets her tongue find your swollen clit. Hands needing to hold something you let one find her hair and the other palms your tits through your shirt.

“Fuck you taste so fucking good baby.”, she says in a raspy voice.

Her hands wrap around your thighs, fingers pressing into the soft flesh, as she pulls you to the very edge of the counter giving her even more space to devour you. The band in your lower belly stretches more and more.

Your eyes are hooded and cloudy as you look down and the band stretches even more when you see Ellie already looking at you. Tears blur your vision as the eye contact seems to spur her even more. Low moans of satisfaction escaping her throat.

“F-fuck! Oh my god-”, you moan and realize how loud you’re getting so you cover your mouth with your hand, only letting quiet whimpers and whines escape you.

Ellie flattening her tongue and holding the same perfect motion against your clit causes the band to finally snap. Your cunt clenches around nothing and your vision blurs as you throw your head back, thighs shaking and cramping.

Ellie is relentless with her tongue causing your whole body to tremble from overstimulation. Your hands roughly thread through her hair trying to pull her back as pathetic whines escape you.

“S’too much! Ellie- ple- please! Too sensitive!”, you whine and whimper, practically in tears.

She pulls back, chuckling at your fucked out state. Breathing heavily you look down as she stands, her lips and chin shiny from your slick. She looks like a fucking god the way she is smirking at you while covered in you. Reaching out you run your thumb over her chin and bring it to your mouth, holding eye contact.

“Fuckin’ hell baby.”, she mumbles.

Grabbing handfuls of her hoodie you yank her into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue. Your hands fumble down to her jeans, undoing the button when a hand grabs your wrists earning a whine from you.

“Please Els. Wanna touch you.”, you whimper, giving your best puppy eyes. She chuckles, leaning down and kissing your neck, wrists still bound in her hands.

“Lemme take care of you tonight baby. I promise there’ll be time for me later.”, she mumbles, lips ghosting your ear. You pout but give a reluctant nod.

Gently pulling you off the counter and laughing at your dizzy head and wobbly legs. She tosses your torn tights in the trash and pockets your panties with a smirk. You give her wide eyes and stretch your hand out.

“Give those back! This skirt is too short for no panties!”, you say shimmying it down the best you can.

“Good thing we’re heading out then, huh? No one out there gets to see your pretty cunt but me baby don’t worry.”, she says and guides you out hand in hand.

taglist:

@ucannotcompare

#ˏˋ°•*⁀➷humanbug fics #the last of us #the last of us ellie #tlou #tlou ellie #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams tlou #ellie imagine #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams smut #human bug #ellie x fem reader #th

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artoodeetootired · 5 months

Text

how you get the girl (1)

🌌 now you say 'i want you for worse or for better, i would want for ever & ever' 🌌

part ii

it is widely known that anakin skywalker excels at nearly everything- except one: how to get the girl of his dreams.

words: ~4.5-5k (warning: did not proofread)

aotc anakin skywalker x padawan!ofc (+ besties padme & artoo)

best friends to lovers, miscommunication, a little angst ig?, fluff, whiny emo teenager padawans

As far into her training as she could remember, Evelyn Iblis had known Anakin Skywalker; which, really, was an understatement.

The two Padawans had first met after a fateful crash in their youthful flurry in the temple’s halls- a feisty girl, and a reckless boy. Although, the latter was more bashful than the former, being a rather late newcomer after all.

In the haze of her mind, Evelyn can remember her harsh personality softening as he repeatedly warmed her up to him; gaining her trust even as a child was not easy due to her childhood before the Jedi, yet her rebellious counterpart managed to befriend her.

After days and weeks and months of Anakin constantly showing her nothing but persistent friendship, Evelyn had no choice but to fall into it, no matter how competitive they both were with each other in training- in both of their opinions making their friendship even better.

So, as the years flew by, so did the memories they made together. From younglings to Padawans, the pair were inseparable. Best friends ‘till death do they part.

And thus comes about their shared mission to protect Senator Amidala of Naboo, a close and personal friend to both. After an assassination attempt amongst a harrowing time for the Republic, the Jedi Council assigned Evelyn to escort the former queen back to her home planet, where she would wait out any danger that could jeopardise everything The Light worked for.

But Anakin being Anakin, had refused to stay behind without a fight (which, of course, he won against his Master Kenobi). Since then, Evelyn had teased him for his aggressive need to join the mission as a projection of his crush on Senator Padme.

“It’s beautiful here,” Evelyn admired as they stepped out of Theed Palace. She had never seen such an incomparable city despite her various travels to many for her missions.

“Yes, I can’t help but agree,” Padmé beamed as she led the two towards the palace, “Definitely not because I’m biased.”

At that, she gave Evelyn a sly look over her shoulder, causing the younger one to softly smile. Evelyn knew Padme as an older sister throughout the years, not only because she was just over 5 years older, but because she had had the privilege to work with her (and R2) multiple times with her Master Adi Gallia as she grew up. The unrelenting kindness, courage and intelligence Padme showed as a young leader inspired her, so she couldn’t help but feel peculiar at how the tables had turned.

As the two Padawans, R2D2 and Padme ventured out to the next transport after their meeting with the queen, a comfortable silence fell over them, save for the faithful droid’s commentary beeping.

With one hand holding a suitcase, Evelyn used her other to help R2 down the stairs with more grace than his loud thumping, laughing at his grateful whirrs.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about hiding out, but I do hope you both will find solace in where we go next,” Padme mused, “It’s incredible there, and you guys deserve a break.”

“Don’t worry, it’s peaceful enough knowing we get to ensure your safety,” Anakin assured after a beat later; and like most of the time, Evelyn faded behind them to give them space, smirking at R2 as they watched the pair.

Evelyn can just about remember a conversation with Anakin, long when she was just 10, and Anakin had just turned 11. It detailed his observation of a fellow youngling that seemed to have taken a liking to Evelyn, despite her many attempts to avoid him.

Sooner or later, she shrugged him off with Anakin’s help (beating said admirer in a lightsaber duel), but it led her curiosity to his own interests- something she felt through his Force signature.

And that was when she giddily found out about Padme, the childhood crush he reluctantly told her about. In all honesty, she was mostly happy she had leverage over him after the embarrassment of her admirer.

Yet now, seeing it in person for Maker knows how long, Evelyn’s curiosity peeked to see how it would go.

“Anakin’s hopeless, Artoo,” Evelyn said to the droid, “As his best friend, I don’t know whether to be helpful or whether to give him hell for it.”

A series of beeps and a mischievous rattle of his legs made it seem like the two were conspiring, and in a lot of ways, they often were.

Evelyn grinned, “No, no, you’re right. Hell is funnier.”

•〰️•

“I will go with Artoo,” Evelyn said firmly after some time of her arguing with Anakin. She welcomed his happy chirps following the light blush that crept up Anakin’s neck.

It didn’t help that they were both stubborn, and that Padme was patient enough to watch in amusement. Anakin could feel that even the gondoliers were relishing the childish behaviour.

They were standing by the docks, ready to board two gondolas headed for the villa. Bickering as always, the two friends argued for who would go with who- Anakin stating he’d travel on one alone with the rest of the luggage, while Evelyn proposed an even split amongst the group.

“Eve,” Anakin sighed.

R2 chimed up as he wheeled his way to Evelyn, as if mirroring her defiance. Anakin scratched the back of his neck, eyes flittering back and forth between the brunette and the droid, and muttered his defeat.

There was only ever one person who frequently won against Anakin, and he was often tired of it, if not fuelled by the challenging dynamic.

As the group moved to the majestic boats, Evelyn grabbed the last bag from the boardwalk, beating Anakin to it.

“Artoo and I weigh less,” she reasoned as a response to his scrunched expression, then dropping her voice, “You’re welcome, by the way.”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond, picking the bag up and whirling away towards the waiting droid; she could feel his eyes on her, though. Calculating and nervous was his fleeting gaze, and she suspected it was due to his upcoming time alone with Padme.

Water had never felt fresher. Weaving through her fingertips, the lake was a comfort to Evelyn as she lazily dipped her hand throughout the journey. The Force was strong here, what with the energy coursing through the creatures and their hunt, the breeze and the heat, the moon threatening the sun to conquer, the lives on these boats; it was empowering in the sense that she could feel everything.

R2 suddenly made a series of beeps and boops over the music he was playing as if to say, “You seem sad.”

Evelyn regarded him with amusement, “I’m not. Why do you ask?”

“You look more aloof than usual. Is it because of the mission?”

“No,” Evelyn smiled at the droid, “Well… part of it.”

R2 let out a sad whine, encasing his sympathy for the girl, “What else is bothering you, then?”

She fidgeted with her Padawan braid.

“It’s not important, Artoo,” she settled, trying her best to keep her eyes forward, “I might just be tired from the past few days.”

The astromech droid let out another trill, choosing to believe his friend instead of questioning her; there was potential she could push him into the water, he wouldn’t put it past her tough exterior.

“At least you can rest more here! Master Padme and Ani, and I will be with you.”

Evelyn expressed her gratitude for his comfort with a pat on his head with one of her bandaged hands, letting the air around her turn pleasant as opposed to the current gloom. Besides, she was afraid that Anakin could sense it gleaning off of her from just a few feet away.

And she wouldn’t want that. Not when part of her personal mission there was to ensure his happiness, their happiness-it had been since she found them alone in Padme’s room, the atmosphere intense through the Force.

Even if, for some reason, it had stirred up a feeling in her gut, something dark and unpleasant. She didn’t know what it was. And she didn’t like the unknown.

She pulled her knees closer to her chest, choosing to look anywhere but to her left. Just the quiet moments, let her have the quiet moments to think and feel and look completely in tune with the growing conflict inside her, one that she was already trying to push away.

The Jedi Code was something Evelyn had always been touchy with, not completely agreeing with its ideals and expectations. Anakin knew this, her Master Gallia knew this. And so, if getting the senator to reciprocate what Anakin had felt- everyday of his life for the past decade- would seal his happiness in his tough life, then she’d do it.

Because they were best friends.

That’s all they were.

Trying to engage in the conversations Padme brought up in between silences was hard, because in the corner of his eye, Anakin could see the gleeful interaction between Evelyn and R2.

There, in her combat clothing, her thick mane of wavy hair in an outrageously messy bun and her attention undivided to the landscape, she looked more serene than he had ever seen her. More thoughtful in these slow moments, a contradictory calm to her fierce persona.

Was it because he wasn’t with her? Because his incessant chatter wasn’t there to annoy her?

He knew of her motives throughout the day, playing his wingman for him and Padme. And in an alternate universe, he was sure he would be grateful. But not in this one.

“You know, if you keep this charade up, it’s going to get worse.”

Anakin shifts out of his side-glance in a snap, finding the senator bemused as she raised a pretty brow at him.

“Pardon?” Anakin slipped over his words, trying very hard to hide his fluster at him being caught.

“Ani,” Padme laughed, “It may be hard for anyone else to see, but there’s no use hiding it from me.”

She tilted her head towards the gondola a few meters next to them.

He studied her for a moment. Padme certainly wasn’t talking about the droid or the gondolier.

Anakin shook his head, looking the opposite way in avoidance of the other pair, “What am I ‘hiding’?”

“If there is one thing I’m sure about you after all these years, it’s that you weren’t and still aren’t very good at hiding your emotions.”

The Padawan let out a deep breath, cursing himself for letting the one thing that he thought strengthened him become a weakness this once. Hopefully this once.

What felt like halfway into the ride, as Artoo distantly played relaxing music in the boat next to theirs, Anakin felt more jittery than ever. He did not know whether it was because of the tight space, or the sweat dripping down his robes, but it was most certainly not because of why Evelyn thought so.

He could feel it: the mocking, the encouragement. It was flowing across the space between them as a form of communication. Through the Force, he knew what Evelyn was thinking, and it was making him more nervous than it should have.

The young Skywalker had tried to focus on the scenery he had the privilege to witness; the lush water beneath him; the unbelievably green mountains that framed the sky; the wildlife one would never see on his home planet. But in the few minutes the group had been travelling, he couldn’t.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said, uncharacteristically gloomy. In the span of a few days, he had turned from being his usual smug, confident and charismatic Chosen One self to feeling like a simple, confused blob in the galaxy.

“Well you could start by telling her that, you know, I don’t mean what I used to mean to you back then, Ani,” Padme advised lightly.

She met Anakin as a 9 year old, and she definitely knew that he had a childish crush on her after their first encounter.

“You’re all grown up,” she continued, “Both of you are- I’ve seen the two of you with and without each other. It’s…”

At her pause, Anakin peeked back at the 24 year old, hanging on to the last word with anticipation.

Padme smiled at him, her eyes lighting up with recognition of the right word.

“Different.”

Anakin had never been more lost. Even his first time picking a lightsaber up had been easier.

Padme started to chortle at the look on his face.

“Wha- no, now you’re not making any sense,” he protested, “She’s always been my best friend. And we’re jedi, we’re meant to be different. Besides, if I tell her about you, then it just means she’s gonna draw the truth out of me.”

“Well, isn’t that the goal?” Padme said incredulously, “Isn’t that why you’ve been ‘subtly’ asking for my help since we met again?”

Anakin pondered about this. What was ‘the goal’? No matter how he felt, the both of them were bound to their duties first and foremost. He knew Evelyn, and thus he knew she would see to it that what she had worked for since she was a child would pay off. But he also knew himself- albeit not very well- and his knack to break a few rules, and to follow his heart.

It was a dangerous gamble.

“Can I ask you something?” Padme asked calmly, in a manner that reflected the soothing waves embracing them.

“It’s not like you’d care if I said no…”

Ignoring his attitude, Padme continued, “Do you like her? Yes or no?”

“Yes,” the Padawan retorted almost immediately, “I mean, yeah, I think I do.”

Feeling the way he did because they were best friends versus wanting to be more than that- he did not know yet.

Even though the former queen was seemingly happy with his answer, she dug deeper, “And when did you find out that you did? As in, as more then just friends?”

The teenager was visibly troubled. When he felt the gravity of the question, he threw his hands up and shrugged.

“Why does it matter?” he complained. Feeling cornered at that moment, Anakin didn’t care whether he looked like a child to the Senator of Naboo; he was certain that the gondolier was also listening intently, even with his back to them.

“Anakin,” Padme warned with a look, “Just think about it.”

He could feel more heat creeping up his neck, taking over his cheeks and his whole chest. He blamed it on the sun.

Anakin thought hard despite himself. Unable to give her a solid answer, he let his train of thought slip out without fault.

“When she first stood up for me against the lackies of our class.”

He quickly contradicted himself.

“No, actually, it was when we had our first talk talk,” he snorted, “She was stone cold before then.”

“It might’ve been when she comforted me the first time my nightmares started.”

“I don’t know… or when I realised I didn’t like it when other guys liked her,” he smirked nostalgically, “I’m glad I beat Damon in that duel.”

“Or when she fought too hard to protect everyone on a mission, and I… I almost lost her.”

While Padme let him spill all that was on his mind, she watched his every movement- from his eyes, to the way his hands would fidget, to his small, savoury glimpses towards said woman.

Then Anakin trailed off, the distant focus perpetuating his stature like a spell.

To him, the world went quiet.

The splashing waves that were once loud in his ears mitigated, the once stinging sun simply gave him warmth, the birdsong that distracted him aided his relishing into the back of his mind.

“It was when I first bumped into her my first time at the temple,” he slowly said, chuckling fondly, “I was so lost, and I didn’t know where Obi Wan was… but when Evelyn first looked me in the eyes with so much…”

He struggled for a word.

“Indifference?” Padme suggested.

“Detachment,” Anakin countered, “She changed. I knew I was pretty much a loser when we first met, so I took her sympathy for pity. But she asked me if I needed help, and guided me back- the scrawny, dirty child- when no one would.”

He trailed off, with his hands playing with each other as they rested on his knee, the azure of his eyes unmatched by the glittering blue of the lake, his lips curved up into a small smile.

“I was so, so determined to see her again- to make sure I was good enough to see her again. One could say that… that she really was the reason I went ahead with the training. That she is the reason I’m here at all.”

It all came rushing back to him, after he realised what he had just gushed out to Padme. He didn’t think he had ever felt so overwhelmed.

“See, now was that so hard?” Padme teased lightly; he rolled his eyes in reponse.

She knew all that she had to, and she herself was delighted with having the right to know- Anakin Skywalker didn’t just have a crush on Evelyn Iblis, he was in love with her. He may not have known it yet, but it was as clear as the skies above her.

“Now,” she said, down to business, a twinkle in her eyes far brighter than any star.

“Here’s what you’re going to do…”

•〰️•

Evelyn had never felt more detached, more awkward, more lonely.

From the moment they had arrived, she had made sure to stay out of the way and keep to herself.

Like the good old days, she thought.

Once Anakin and Evelyn were escorted to their rooms shortly after their arrival, the group agreed to have dinner right away due to the hunger their travels brought.

But as they made their way to lounge on a rustic balcony for the sunset, she excused herself to bed, ignoring Anakin’s protests.

As the stars graced her with their presence, Evelyn prepared for bed in the luxurious bathroom she greedily took her time in. Her heavy hair finally dried as she sat by the window alcove- she was delighted with the lavender soap- her tired body clad in the nightgown Padme had generously provided her.

Evelyn stayed buried in the lush covers for an hour now, sinking in like the quicksand of Tatooine. She sighed in contentment, never having felt this kind of comfort in a bed before.

Yet close to finally being taken away by sleep, her mind set to work to flash thoughts behind her closed eyes.

The impending war, where her Master Gallia might be at the moment, her plan for this mission, her plan for that mission.

She also wondered if Anakin would find it easier to sleep a dreamless night.

No.

She groaned, twisting aggressively to her side at the thought.

Stop it.

And yet she wondered what would happen if he couldn’t. Would he come knocking on her door like he always did?

The judging looks they got from the other younglings were ones she couldn’t forget, not when the two had openly defied the attachment rule as children. Anakin would sneak across the temple intersection for her room, and would knock on it to find Evelyn already awake for him. It was practically a pact- one must be awake if the other is sleepless.

But no, he would probably go down the opposite direction, for she was sure that she wasn’t his first choice in this hallway.

At that, Evelyn frustratedly slammed her head the opposite side into the pillow, suddenly disdainful of the thick sheets swallowing her in.

It was going to be a long night.

•〰️•

"Did you find her, Artoo?" Anakin asked at the sound of the astromech droid wheeling into the room.

"Yes," the blue droid beeped, "But I would be more... cautious at the moment."

Anakin and Padme exchanged a look across the round dining table, the slice of fruit still floating in between them by his command.

"What do you-"

The blue-eyed Padawan shut his mouth instantly, sensing her approach through the Force- tired, frustrated, grumpy.

Evelyn appeared by the archway a second later, her long hair in its usual ponytail, showcasing the white and yellow bands in her Padawan braid- healing and combat; she was in her casual under-blouse rather than her tunic, and her face was set in a mean rest.

It wouldn't take a Force-sensitive person to recognise the chills emanating from her.

"I hope I didn't hold you guys up for breakfast." she strode to the table swiftly, her lightsaber bouncing along her leg until she pulled up a chair.

"It's quite alright, I understand you were on patrol this morning," Padme said as kindly as ever, knowing that this was still a mission to them. Accepting the slice with a light stab in the air, Padme thanked Anakin for such an amusing trick.

She looks..... exhausted.

Anakin thought as he allowed his eyes to roam around his best friend's face; dark circles hugged her sharp eyes, and even though he still thought her radiant, the tension between her brows and shoulders betrayed her.

He knew better than to ask of her troubles in public.

"Someone tumbled a bit too hard out of wrong side of the bed," he tried joking, eyes trained on her throughout while the food arrived.

"Hm, not as bad as how you got lost on your way to the sink" she gestured to his face with her fork. A small tug on the corner of her lips.

Anakin relished in their banter, and while he was relieved to know she was still herself, he wanted to find out what was bothering her.

On one end, Padme looked a bit perplexed by their blatant insults shooting across the table.

"Why didn't you tell me you were taking first watch?" he asked amidst the clashing of cutlery, "| didn't even know we were starting rounds today."

The addressee shrugged, "It's fine. You can take the 2 hours before dinner, it's just a safety precaution. We'll discuss it more later."

She directed it towards Padme more for the sake of its purpose.

In truth, Evelyn had impulsively shot out of her chambers when it was evident she wasn't going to br gifted with sleep. Taking a walk around the perimeter, her moody self only came up with the rounds after she had been caught by the villa guards.

The air hung heavy above them, even driving R2 to leave the premise.

"So, Evelyn," Padme started, "Did you like your room okay?"

Also implying 'Did you sleep at all?’

She gulped down what looked like only her 3rd bite, nodding stiffly, "Oh, yes. It is quite comfortable."

"That's great to hear."

Silence resumed.

“And thank you again for the nightgown," her hesitant addition sliced through them, “I’ve never felt anything like it."

Evelyn may be in a mood, but Maker forbid she would take it out on Padme. She didn't even know what she was in a mood about yet.

"Hey, why didn't I get a nightgown?" Anakin smirked.

"Why? Would it aid your sleeping troubles?" Evelyn feigned curiosity.

“Certainly.”

"Well then you can have mine," the female Padawan's tone dripping with sarcasm.

Padme's delicate features lit up, "Well, of course! You know, you could even take a few when you leave."

Both Anakin and Evelyn halted slicing their food, looking bewildered at the proposal.

“Wh- what?" Padme asked, unsure of the offence she might have just done.

Anakin snapped his stare at Evelyn, mind now flushed to the point of his lungs betraying him.

As he choked and hastily reached for his glass, Evelyn looked just as taken aback.

"I, uh, it's nothing to do with you, Padme," Evelyn quickly consoled, "It's just that... we're Jedi."

She hoped it was explanation enough.

“Well... yes," Padme said slowly.

She guessed not.

“We have a certain conduct to follow... and as much as I liked the nightgown, I don't think it's... the design is a bit.." Anakin's ragged choking distracted Evelyn greatly from making her point, feeling flustered by it all.

"She means to say,” Anakin gasped through the glass of water he had just gulped down, "That it's not entirely appropriate in the Jedi Temple. It would be too...”

He looked at Evelyn for help, only to find her aggressively slicing pastry into unnecessarily samll shreds.

"Revealing," he cleared his throat. The man may not have seen it for himself, but it wasn't hard to imagine-

"Oh," Padme took her time to understand, "I see.”

She started to chuckle almost uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise sooner," Padme said delightfully, a stark contrast to the rattled pair, "I’ve always thought that you'd look lovely in a dress, Evelyn.”

"Careful now," Evelyn said nervously, slicing away, “You might make Ani here jealous."

Anakin mumbled something under his breath before taking another sip, but she couldn't make out any words.

"Please, it would make me feel better while we're here," Padme said imploringly, "Especially since l've planned for a few picnics and activities and whatnot to occupy us."

This was the first time Evelyn heard of this.

“Planned activities...?"

“Yeah, we were discussing it yesterday when you went up to bed,” Anakin said, finally recovered from his fit, "Whatcha get for being a buzzkill."

Evelyn sighed internally, At least they're getting the time I hoped they would.

She ignored the comment.

"I couldn't."

Padme raised a brow.

"The dresses, I mean," the Padawan clarified,

"Besides, I don't know how to wear one."

Ever the friend, Anakin snorted; he slapped his hand to his mouth to try recovering from it, but Evelyn did the honour herself and kicked him in the shin.

"How to... wear one?" asked Padme, "Why, you just slip it on!"

"Well, yes but- stop it-" Evelyn pinched Anakin's shaking arm, "But, as in, I wouldn't know how to run in it, or- or fight in it. It seems too free."

"Eve,” Padme said soothingly, reaching out to grasp her hand, "You're not going to face off an army here. The most you'll really do is patrol- and even then, I wished you guys wouldn't- and maybe shake off some wild animals."

Evelyn contemplated. It just seemed so... awkward.

As well as pitiful, given that she used to hope of a time where she would dress up nicely for herself and for...

But now, it seemed like an uncomfortable idea.

Especially when she thought she'd look ridiculously stiff next to Padme's natural grace in them.

"C'mon, Eve, I think it'd be cool," Anakin said on a more serious note, his signature smirk and oceanic gaze feeling warm on her skin.

R2 made encouraging toots from the corner of the room.

It's just fabric... you've almost died in worse situations before.

Evelyn made a move to stand, feeling too squirmish to stay in the dining room anymore. She thought it nice to let the two lovebirds have a private day together anyways, or days she decided.

“| suppose," she gave the oldest a tight smile, "Whatever you'd see fit Padme."

"Great." she responded, a hint of confusion.

"Wait- where are you going?" to Evelyn's left, asked Anakin.

"I'm quite full now, thank you" she said politely, "Plus, I’d like to visit the library here."

"Of course."

"Do you want me to-"

“I'll see you both later." Evelyn departed without letting Anakin finish. Stoic, rigid, cold.

The male Padawan gaped after her. He did not know whether this was part of her mood, or if she was maybe, possibly, probably upset with him. Padme discerned his worry and hushedly reminded him to be patient for what was to come.

Before she had turned into the corrider, however, Evelyn threw over her shoulder almost abrasively-

"Oh, and maybe next, Anakin can make a meat skewer with his lightsaber for you.”

•〰️•

To Anakin's absolute vexation, Evelyn remained withdrawn from them (specifically him?) for a while.

No matter how much he tried tracing her by asking the staff, going where she would most likely be, and even following her Force signature, his trusted friend slipped through his fingers.

So much for Jedi training...

She had always been the better of the two at that: stealth with using the element of surprise.

He hadn't spoken to her for almost 4 days now.

When he took the night round, she would already be in bed. When he took the morning round, she would already be off in her own adventures. When Padme tried to initiate rendezvous, she would excuse herself to stay at the villa for security, as Anakin would be with the senator anyways.

He would hear reports from multiple members of the staff:

"She stayed in the library."

"She is off meditating' in the gardens... whatever that means."

"I last saw her swinging that laser sword of hers around, probably practicing or something."

"Oh yes, she was sitting by the lake with a book, sir."

And even R2, who told him, "She is spending time in the property's stables."

But what bugged him most, was that whenever he knocked on her door at night, she never opened up.

Not like she used to.

"I'm telling you, she's mad at me for something else!" Anakin huffed into his hands. By the north of the lake did the politician and Padawan stay idle; the latter had been complaining since they got there.

"Anakin, don't you see?" Padme urged excitedly.

“What are you so happy about- look, this is going way worse than I thought it would! She’s never acted this way before," he groaned.

He felt utterly vulnerable. While he was never one to be afraid of emotional expression, he had never felt so aggravated, dejected and lovesick. It made him feel incorrigible.

The day beautiful, the view picturesque, the breeze calming, it was everything one would hope for at a violent time like the one they were living in.

Out of everything Anakin could have, should have, been worrying about as a Jedi, he found himself stuck in the loop he was always warned never to fall in.

He didn't care.

"Anakin," Padme giggled as she rocked back and forth, her hair intricately framing her face, "Don't you see what this could mean?"

"No," he immediately scowled, "Is it that she hates me? And I don't even know why? Like, what did I do?All I've been trying to do is figure out these- these feelings and how to get closer to her than I already am!"

"Ani, you really can't see why she might be upset?"

He threw his hands in front of him, "I don't know! Is it ‘cause I always steal her cookies? Look, she's my best friend, and she's not been acting like it since we got to this place. And I get that she's trying to play matchmaker with us, and maybe that just means that she just doesn't feel the same way- but all she's doing is driving me crazy. And she doesn't even know it!"

His rant was well-received by Padme, and when he finished, he spaced out on the ruffled lake by the breeze.

"Ani, do you remember when you mentioned Damon?"

A surge of old bitterness grew in his chest.

"What about him?"

"And what did you say you realised when you beat him in that duel?" Padme asked ever-patiently.

He scoffed, “That I didn't like it when other guys liked her-"

Suddenly, he whipped to Padme, realisation dawning on his face.

"Oh."

"Jealousy. I told you it'd get worse if you let her think of us like that," a hint of pride seeped through her humble personality.

H sighed, "It's not that simple when we're both Jedi- hell, or even if only one of us was. If I can't have her as more than just my best friend, then I don't want to try at all and then lose her completely."

"But that's the thing, Ani!" the tiny senator fought back, "You guys are lucky in that regard- no, hear me out. You have been and are best friends. Most people don't even know where to start with the love of their life; a lot of people would wish to have their partner be their best friend, too. I would.

You have to remind her how you two used to be before this whole mission, you guys were practically a married couple. Then you've gotta tell her you absolutely lost your mind trying to suppress your feelings, tell her that it drives you mad to try and hide away from her while you went and left her in the dark.

Then you tell her what you've always wanted to. And don't. Hold. Back."

•〰️•

part ii

a/n: had to split it into 2 parts, sorry for any confusion!

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #star wars #padme amidala #star wars aotc #attack of the clones #original female character #anakin skywalker x reader #sw prequels #anakin fanfiction #r2d2 #star wars anakin #Spotify

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biribaa · 1 year

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DO IT DO IT DO IT PLEASE GIVE US SOMETHING ANYTHING WITH THING I BEG OF YOU

Thing x reader headcanons!

YOUR WISH IS AN ORDER LESGOO

TW/CW: None ig

Impressively romantic for a literal hand without the rest of the body, or maybe it's not even Thing, maybe it's just you having something for non-human things. One hand can do a lot of magic, hold hands, caress you, massage you and do fun shadow tricks to make you laugh, sadly he can't kiss you, winch makes Thing sad. But well, at least you got the lips, go on and kiss him.

He's so jealous, seriously, he's sooo jealous. He always wants to stand on your shoulder so everyone has a sense that you belong to him and he belongs to you. There are times when Thing throws a tantrum because you got along "too well" with someone, thrashing his fingers and nails against the table, you could only laugh and help him calm down, caressing and kissing him.

Loooves to hold you while you are sleeping, the hand is indeed the first option for him to hold and also the easiest, but he also likes to caress your hair, seeing how your straight hair passes so easily through his fingers, or, how your curly hair has these little fluffly round waves. Another place Thing likes to rub is your cheek to make you sleep easier, but there are times Thing likes to just rest against your chest and have you pet him.

If you are a fan of painting nails, Thing would be willing to be your muse for you to test your skills or just check out the colors. There will be moments where he will actually get stressed with some colors like hot pink and other light colors, but for you Thing would hold the earth.

Likes to wake you up with a few light slaps on the face, he would hate to see you stressed about being late with responsability.

Thing loves your reactions, sometimes he makes some origami or writes some cute messages when you get home stressed with your responsibilities just to see your positive reactions.

Thing is not only jealous, but also rude. Thing can't know that someone has spoken ill of you that will completely terrorize that person's life until he hear an "I'm sorry"

But of course, Thing also asks you for favors, he would love for your delicate hands to take care of his health, cut his nails and apply some creams. Thing trusts you deeply, and knows that you are capable of anything, he trusts you.

Thing is awful with advice when you're feeling awful emotionally, but he hopes his presence, physical affection, and a few tricks to make you laugh will be enough, he knows you deserve more, but that's all he can offer.

Thing also offers to be your extra hand on some of your stuff. For example, are you cooking? He can cut things and clean vegetables for you, are you painting a picture? He can hold your color board, Are you sleeping and can't sleep because of annoying people? He will deal with them for you.

Thing can be your entertainment when you can't sleep, he can offer to make you laugh, and he can also listen to you talk about your favorite topics, after all, he loves your voice.

I'm a minor and I'm going to try to make this as sfw as possible, but yet at the same time get the character right. Thing can try to be seductive a lot of times when the two of you are alone, stroking your arm slowly and grabbing your thigh for exemple. Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable Thing will stop without hesitation.

He gets easily hurt, and comes to you like an embarrassed child to ask you to take care of him :(

#thing x reader #canon x reader #x reader #reader insert #family addams #Wednesday #family addams x reader #soft headcanons #x reader headcanons #fluff headcanons #headcanons #family adams thing #wednesday thing #thing t. thing

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

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Hi! I LOVE the way u write leo valdez and was wondering if u could do an x reader fic where she gets accepted to her dream college? Im manifesting lol 🤞🤞much love xx

OMG YES I'M MORE THAN HAPPY TOO!! ANYTHING FOR YOU ANON-

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ College Girls Do It Better, Duh!!

content: leo valdez x fem! reader warning: language, like the smallest amount of angst ig, stress and anxiety (the poster children of senior year) author's note: hi little miss anon!! congratulations on being my first ask by the way!! anyways, as someone who is currently fighting for my life to get through this last stretch of senior year, I feel year. I applied to my dream college since eighth grade early decision all the way back in november and got deferred. and i know this might be hard to hear and i know i didn't believe it at the time, but it was honestly one of the best things that ever happened to me. It allowed me to take a deep dive on who i am as a person and find actually interests outside of just that school. now, i've been accepted to another college in the same city (boston girl 4 eva) with a scholarship that covers more than half of my tuition and under a major I actually want to pursue (marine biology with a minor in journalism for anyone who was curious). ANYWAYS i've yapped on long enough and you're not even here for this little ted talk of mine. please carry on and i hope you enjoy this little bad boy i whipped up.

this was it: senior year. everything added up to this. finally! we’re in the homestretch, folks! gods, on top of stopping the world from ending every other summer, y/n had to keep good grades up too. she was more than ready to trade leo’s sweaters for a cap and gown, counting down the days to graduation. a break would have been greatly appreciated but the fates were never that kind. well, they were kind enough to give her leo, so they couldn’t be all that bad in her eyes. though, the pressure was starting to make y/n crack in ways she didn’t expect; the pressure that comes with college acceptances and, sadly, rejections. she felt like she was falling behind a bit, a lump growing in her throat and her chest tightening at every acceptance letter her friends got. of course, she was overjoyed for them and she’d buy them cupcakes and celebrate their accomplishments but she couldn’t help but wonder when it would be her turn. i mean, she slaved away over her college essay, she maintained the best grades she could, did all of the extracurriculars she could manage, on top of being a two-time saver of the world. something she, sadly, could not tell colleges. well, she told new rome university, but she figured they got a lot of letters like that. but, for now, y/n just waited…and waited…and then waited some more just for shits and giggles.

“today’s the day, right?” jason questioned as he walked with y/n towards their civics class. y/n swallowed thickly, nodding her head, although a bit reluctantly.

“y-yeah, early decision round two comes out today for new rome. now, no more talking about it or i’ll pass out," y/n told him and jason laughed, bumping his shoulder with her gently.

“come on, give yourself a fair shake. they’d be stupid not to-”

“don’t jinx it!! go find some wood to knock on, sparky,” the girl ordered in a panic and jason quickly rapped his knuckles against a door as they passed, the poor ceramics teacher peeking her head out to find no one waiting.

“okay, okay, no bad juju,” y/n muttered to herself following the boy's actions, taking a few calming breaths. jason gave her a sympathetic look as they took their seats, rubbing his hand gently over her tense shoulders. their eyes both went to the empty seat next to y/n before turning to each other with tiny smirks.

“i bet he’ll get here just as the bell rings,” mused y/n, trying to rid herself of her anxiety with humor. jason pretended to think it over, before holding his hand out.

“nah, he’s gotta be at least ten minutes late today,” countered jason and y/n shook his hand with a determined look. as the pair's eyes stayed locked on the clock, mere seconds before the bell would ring, leo came waltzing to the class, an iced coffee held in one hand and his keys swinging around in the other. mr. wright glaring at the boy, knowing he couldn’t give him the tardy he so desperately wanted to. leo made his way to his seat, kissing y/n’s cheek as he sat. y/n’s smile widened and her stress and anxiety began to melt away.

“for little miss smartie pants here,” he hummed, sliding the drink in front of her with a wink. y/n took a sip, shaking her head at him as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“lots of talk coming from someone who’s already been accepted with honors,” replied y/n, jokingly glaring at him though she couldn’t stop a proud smile from spreading over her lips. leo had a habit of underestimating himself and when he got accepted into new rome university on a scholarship to boot, he couldn’t really ignore it anymore. y/n was his number one supporter, buying him shirts and lanyards and pennant flags. leo rolled his eyes, slinging his arm over the back of her seat.

“they’d be stupid not to accept-”

“knock on wood right now!! what is with you guys trying to curse me?!” y/n bit out, shoving the boy in the direction of the wooden desk. leo knocked his knuckles against it whilst sharing a look with jason, who just shrugged.

“i’m just saying-”

“mr. valdez! if you’re just going to show up to disrupt my class, do not continue to show up!” mr. wright called, narrowing his eyes at the trio.

“sorry, mr. wright, but i do kinda need this class to graduate. if i didn’t, i guarantee you i would not be here right now,” joked leo, earning laughs from the rest of the class. mr. wright’s eye twitched as he stared at the boy before grumbling under his breath and returning to his lecture. leo held his head high after that, knowing he’d won for today.

the rest of the day seemingly flew past, y/n anxiously and constantly checking her email. after lunch, she sort of relaxed, somehow managing to convince herself that the email wasn’t going to come today and she’d just worry about it some other day. but, as she sat in her seventh period class, her phone buzzed on her desk. she didn’t think anything of it, determined to finish another math problem before she allowed herself a phone break. then her phone buzzed a few more times, her attention being dragged away from her math homework at the borderline constant buzzing. she huffed, picking up her phone before her eyes went wide and her breath tumbled out of her lips.

there on her phone she had an email from new rome university which read, ‘today’s the day! log into your student portal as your status has been updated.’ under that, and the root of the near constant buzzing, were texts from all her friends. leo was typing in all-caps, something about running to her class at the moment. her group chat with frank, hazel, and piper, the three other people who applied in the same decision group as her, had multiple texts about wanting to throw up and being too nervous to open it. annabeth had sent a text too, something about y/n being one of the smartest and sweetest people she knew and no college acceptance or rejection could change that.

ignoring all of them and feeling like she was in a haze, y/n unlocked her phone and got to work logging into her student portal and watching the spinning circle as she waited for it to load. bam! welcome screen, nothing new so far. y/n continued to breath, though she knew it was unsteady as she placed a hand against her chest, hoping to regulate her rapid heartbeat, which she could feel in her toes and hear in her ears. then she noticed a little hyperlink, informing her that her status had been updated. her finger hovered over it as hazel updated that she’d been accepted, promptly being followed by frank and piper. y/n squeezed her eyes shut, swiping away their messages and slamming her finger down onto the link. more waiting and then it finally loaded. she scrolled slowly, wanting to ease herself into rejection…

dear y/n l/n,

on behalf of new rome university, we are pleased to inform you that you’ve been accepted. congratulations! furthermore, we’d like offer you a scholarship for academic integrity, blah blah blah

wait- did that say accepted?! y/n’s eyes did a double take, which was growing increasingly more difficult as tears were starting to pool. her hands shook and she promptly stood up from her chair, muttering about needing the bathroom to the teacher before basically bolting out of the class. she moved quickly down the hall, her eyes darting around wildly until she heard the stomping of feet and the squeak of rubber on linoleum. leo rounded a corner at the other end of the hall, his eyes instantly focusing on the girl, on his girl. without a second thought, the two of them sprinted to each other, basically slamming against the other as they met in the middle. leo’s arms wrapped around her frantically, unsure of the verdict but wanting her in his arms either way. y/n curled into him easily, crying against his shirt, tears of joy but he didn’t know that.

“so?” leo whispered after a moment, cupping her tear-stained cheeks and looking down at her with what could only be described as unfiltered love. y/n looked at him before cracking a small smile through her tears.

“i got in. i- i got in, oh my gods, i got in!” she stated, growing more excited everytime she said it.

“duh! my clever girl! ooh, my clever college girl!” leo cheered, smirking down at her. y/n laughed, shoving him off as she reached up and wiped away some of her tears.

“whatever, you absolute hammer head.”

“there’s no getting rid of me now, baby. you’re stuck with me. wooo, we’re going to college together!” added leo, smiling down at her in genuine excitement. y/n looked up at him and leo could have sworn his bmp spiked, even after all these years.

“wouldn’t have it any other way,” she mused, reaching up and cupping his face before pulling him down so she could press her lips against his. easily, his hands found her waist and pulled her closer, as her arms draped over his shoulders.

the bell rang, school being out for the day, and as students flooded the halls, leo let go of his girlfriend and cupped his hands around his lips, screaming: “MY HOT ASS GIRLFRIEND JUST GOT ACCEPTED INTO A PRESTIGIOUS ASS SCHOOL! THAT’S MY GIRL RIGHT THERE!”

author's note cont. : I know what your all thinking, how could she possibly have more to say?!?! HA you underestimate my ability to yap. anyways, on a more serious note, I'm wishing you, anon and anyone else who needs to hear it, the best of best luck with colleges and whatnot. They'd be stupid to reject you and i'll proudly shove you all in my suitcase and take you to college with me. jk...unless. No, fr tho, don't let a rejection define you! Fate is fickle and will find a way to treat you to the life you deserve, don't forget it!! Anyways, now that I spent my whole night slaving away over this, I am off to bed, hope you guys enjoy and have great days!!

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #jason grace #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #pjo

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likesunsetorange · 1 month

Text

girl dad! eren drabble

inspired by an art comic i saw on lacampanule’s ig story!

It’s hard for Mikasa to ever say no—with big green eyes that sparkle like little gem stones, filled with all the joy in the world that have yet to be tainted by the realities of the world, the biggest dimpled grin, and a face that’s as sweet as sugar—it’s one of her hardest difficulties as a parent, even for things as miniscule as extra chocolate before bedtime.

“Okay, that’s enough chocolate for you sweetie,” Mikasa finally musters up the courage to say, though she really shouldn’t have to, she is the parent here.

Noa’s face forms into a pout, remnants of chocolate still around her mouth, and the big green eyes that look just like Eren’s go wide, filling with so much sadness, it’s almost enough to make her take it all back. “Okay, Mommy,” she replies softly.

Mikasa sighs, wiping at the sides of Noa’s mouth with her thumb. If saying no to a two-year-old is this hard now, what will she do when Noa’s older? “Tomorrow, you can have more, okay?” She says, a smile on her face as she attempts to cheer her up, “Now go to your room, I’ll be there in a bit so we can read your bedtime story.”

Green eyes go wide once again, but this time with glee. “Okay, mommy!” She says with only the excitement a small child could possess before running off to her room. Mikasa stands, dusting off her pants, and placing the bag of candy high where Noa can’t reach it, knowing she has tendencies much like her father once did to get into trouble.

“I’m proud of you for saying no,” a deep voice who could belong to no one other than Eren, says from behind her. She hadn’t realized he’d been standing there watching them, too enthralled in their conversation to notice his presence.

Her face scrunches into a scowl—the same person who spent all of last Saturday building a princess playhouse saying this. “Like you’re any better,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I actually think I am,” he muses.

“Sure you are, Eren. But c’mon, we have bedtime stories to go read.”

꩜꩜꩜

Eren wakes up to the feeling of small fingers poking against his face—light taps repeatedly on his nose, cheeks, and forehead. He tries to ignore them at first, thinking it’s merely him dreaming, but they become so rampant, he’s certain it must be something within the realm of reality.

His eyes flutter open to the sight of a tiny body riddled with bed hair, and big green eyes much like his own, staring back at him. Her face looks tired, she has one sock missing, her pajamas disheveled, one pant leg rising up her tiny leg, and her little stuffed cow in hand—in other words, looking a mess.

Eren glances at the clock, 12:55, before he sits up, trying not to wake Mikasa. “Noa, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Why are you awake?” He whispers.

“I had a bad dream,” she whispers through hiccups, big eyes starting to well up with tears.

Eren’s quick to gather her in his arms, attempting to comfort her, running his hands against her back. “Do you wanna sleep in here?” He whispers.

“I don’t wanna go back to sleep.”

He sighs, knowing this means he’ll probably be up for a while, but relents, nonetheless. “Okay, but let’s go to the living room so we don’t wake up Mommy, okay?” He whispers back, carefully removing himself from the bed.

Eren picks up Noa and her small stuffed toy, before motioning for her to be quiet. He carefully closes their bedroom door, and heads towards the living room when Noa speaks up.

“Daddy, can I get a glass of water, please?” She asks.

“Yea, of course,” he says, taking them to the kitchen. He flicks on the light before placing her and her toy onto the counter while he grabs one of her little pink cups, filling it with water and handing it to her. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” she says in between sips.

“Do you wanna talk about your nightmare?” Eren asks, as he runs his hands through her hair trying to smooth it out.

Her face scrunches, just the way Mikasa’s does when she’s upset.“It was scary, Daddy. There were these big monsters and they looked like people, and they wanted to try to eat me,” she says quietly, her voice filled with fear.

Eren presses a kiss to the top of her head, before leaning down so they’re eye level. “I’m sorry you had a bad dream, those are never fun. But it’s okay because they’re just dreams, alright? You’re safe here with me and Mommy, okay?”

“Okay,” Noa says, nodding her head, mostly convinced. “I love you, Daddy,” a tiny smile forming on her face.

“I love you too, Noa,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Do you feel a little better now? Do you want anything else before you go back to bed?”

The innocent smile on her face, the one that’s filled with so much sweetness, with tiny dimples and a face that could resemble nothing but all that is pure, quickly flashes into something that reminds Eren a bit too much of his childhood self.

“Well…” She starts, a smile on her face. “Can I have some chocolate please, Daddy?”

꩜꩜꩜

Mikasa stirs in the bed, unable to get comfortable. She reaches for Eren, knowing she’ll find comfort in him, only to find an emptiness beside her, which normally wouldn’t ring any alarms in her head, except for the fact that the bed, usually warm, feels cold. Her eyes flash open, scanning for him within their room, knowing sometimes he’ll go on the chair in the corner of their room, only to come up empty.

She sits up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, when she notices light coming from beneath their bedroom door. Mikasa sighs, thinking that maybe Noa might’ve woken up Eren, since she’s been having trouble sleeping through the night. She pulls the covers off herself, interested to see what the two of them have gotten themselves into, and also part of her wanting to relieve her late night sweets craving.

Mikasa opens the bedroom door quietly, not wanting to make much noise, and heads towards the kitchen where she can see the light coming from. As she walks towards the kitchen, she can hear little giggles, whispers, and the rustling of plastic wrappers.

“Shhh, Noa, you’ll wake up Mommy,” she can make out Eren say.

“Sorry, Daddy,” Noa’s voice says through failed whispers and giggles.

Mikasa turns the corner to see Noa on the kitchen counter, chocolate on her face, and Eren standing in front of her placing pieces of said chocolate into her mouth, before indulging in some of his own.

“But Mommy is already awake,” Mikasa says, crossing her arms. The two of them turn to face her, same emerald eyes wide, looking as if they’ve been caught in the worst act. Mikasa turns to face Eren, her brow raised, “What happened to saying no?”

“She had a nightmare!” He says defensively.Mikasa sighs, walking towards the two of them before ripping off her own piece of chocolate. “Well… I guess it is technically tomorrow.”

#vic’s drabbles #eremika #eremika fic #girl dad eren au

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