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loveliestlovelygirl · 1 month

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tangle of strings

pianoteacher!anakin x student!reader

synopsis: mr. skywalker has been your piano instructor since you were fourteen years old. from the moment you met, you knew he was the one. he never expressed his feelings for you vocally, despite all the time you spent together. but after you turn eighteen and prepare to leave for college, he changes his tune.

w.c: 6.9k

warnings!! {minors dni}, dark content, grooming heavily featured, sexual content occurs after the reader is 18, p in v, fingering, oral, fem!reader, gentle dom!anakin, sub!reader, "loss" of virginity, jealousy, religious themes

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The piano is the only thing Mr. Skywalker told you that he loved.

He was never spotted with a girl or anyone for that matter in a romantic sense. He was always single, which never made sense to anyone in your small town because he is handsome. He’s always been handsome. His yearbook pictures from high school proved it.

When you would go over to his house for piano lessons, he would show you many things from his life, like his award cabinet, filled with every trophy and certificate he’s won from piano competitions or his yearbook photos. Those photos were one of the first things he showed you. It was one of your first memories of just you and him.

Mr. Skywalker takes a big stack of books off the shelf in his library all at once. Using his strength to balance the dusty books on his arms, he brings them to the reading table where you sit. He takes off the top one and opens it up before you.

Eventually, you find his picture. You cover your mouth as you giggle. He had thick glasses making him look like a nerd. But he was cute. So, undeniably cute to you. You wish he could be the same age. You would want to be his friend. You would want to kiss him.

If you were the same age, he could be yours.

“I wasn’t always like this,” he muses, his large body looming behind you as he looks over your head to gaze at the picture. “I used to be the kid everyone picked on. When I’d get home, I would write a song about how I was feeling. Some of those songs inspired the ones I play at my shows.”

When he talks, you gush. His warm voice is safe. He’s the kind of person you could tell all your secrets to.

And you did tell him everything you couldn’t tell your parents. You’d tell him your deepest secrets. Like the boys you crushed on. Or your new feelings of lust towards them that caught you off-guard as a teen. He understood you like no one else in the whole world. He was the first to know about your first kiss when you were sixteen. And he seemed… jealous when you told him.

“I don’t know how it happened,” you say. “One moment, we were talking and laughing. And the next thing I know, Drew is pushing me down on the bed to kiss me!” you squeal. “But don’t tell my parents. They’ll think I’m a whore.”

Mr. Skywalker pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I always keep your secrets. Drew is the boy in your history class, correct?”

You nod, amazed that he would remember. The last time you spoke of Drew had been several months ago. But he always pays attention to even the smallest details. That’s how you know he cares.

“I don’t know if he’s good for you,” he mutters, noticeably bitter about something. “Does he really know you? I think… he doesn’t. He’s probably just trying to use you.”

Mr. Skywalker is much older than you. And wiser. So you take his advice to heart. Maybe you shouldn’t see Drew tonight after all.

“How many times have you been kissed?” you ask him, your voice all innocent. Although your motives were anything but pure. While you might have just shared a kiss with Drew, there is one man who is truly the object of your greatest desires. You just haven’t found a way to tell him.

He shakes his head. “You know I’d rather talk about you.” That’s what he says when you pry too deeply into his private life, which only adds to your secret obsession

Anakin has always been the one thing that rivals your obsession with your instrument of choice. And it’s the only secret you kept from him all through high school because you knew he couldn’t possibly feel the same way about you.

Even if the small touches, the secret looks, and long hugs seemed to indicate otherwise. You were too afraid to ask him what it all meant. He never gave that kind of attention to anyone else.

And as an awkward teen, you were furious that you couldn’t express your love to him directly. You kept telling yourself that you would when you’re older. When you turned eighteen, you would confess to him.

Since you couldn’t tell anyone, even him, about this secret, you’d use the piano to share your soul, to put your feelings out into the atmosphere. When you play, no matter where you are, you feel him sitting on the bench beside you, watching over you.

He taught you everything you know now. He’s the reason you chose to major in Piano Performance in college to the great horror of your parents. But what did they expect? They watched you sacrifice your youth for excellence in your craft. The nights were filled with pools of tears, cries, and screams as you played until you got the part, section, or note just right.

When your fingers rest on the ivory keys, you feel him and nothing else. He’s your muse in every song you write.

The piece that won you a full scholarship to your dream university, you wrote it while thinking of Anakin. Your beloved piano teacher. Your closest friend. Your secret love.

He’d been in your life for so long, giving you lessons when you first showed an interest in music. How could you not love him?

He went to the same church that your family attended every Sunday. He played piano sometimes during worship service if the music minister was out on vacation or fell ill. Church was how your father met him, and they became good friends. He often came to your Sunday lunches.

Your mom always cooked fried catfish or fried chicken because that’s what your dad wanted. Mr. Skywalker, as you called him back in your high school years, would eat two plates of food. He’d say things like “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in years,” even if he was at your house just last week. You would laugh the loudest at his jokes. As you think about them now, you realize they weren’t funny, but you’re in love with him so it doesn’t matter.

After lunch, your parents would take care of the food and dishes, giving alone time with him. Like a young pup, you’d follow him outside on the back porch where you’d sit side by side on the creaky old swing.

“Do you cook or bake?” he asks you.

You haven’t the slightest idea of why he’d ask such a thing. You still lived with your parents. Your mom does most of the cooking. Your dad grills sometimes. “No. I get scared that I’ll burn myself.”

Suddenly, he reaches over for your left hand, the closest one to him, from your lap and holds it between his great palms. “Cold,” he whispers. He massages your fingers to revive them. “I wouldn’t want you to burn your hands. They’re so perfect… for playing.”

Anakin looks down at what he’s doing to you and his expression sours. At the time, you don’t know why. You wonder if you said or did something he doesn’t like because the mood changes instantly. He drops your hand and pats your thigh.

“You have piano hands, remember?” he reminds you. He smiles at you, and you feel secure again.

That’s exactly the thing that you always tell him. His hands spread out further than a whole octave, while you struggle to hit the two octave notes simultaneously without pulling a muscle. His fingers are long, and his palms are wide. You can’t compete with that.

You wonder what other things he’s good at with hands like those.

For the entirety of your high school existence, you pined and pined after him. He was always on your thoughts every minute of every day. You never grew sick of daydreaming about him. And on occasion that was reflected in your grades though you maintained a high GPA regardless. Every week was just your going through the motions of life mindlessly, only waiting for two short hours out of the week on Friday which was when you took lessons with him.

You lived solely for those two hours in which he gave you piano lessons free of charge. He said it was because you had such potential, but still to this day, you like to think he reciprocated some of your feelings even before he actually made a move on you.

For those two hours, you would sit right up against him on the leather cushion of the piano bench and play for him whatever pieces you were working on or things he assigned you from the previous week. He was never harsh with you even when you weren’t getting something.

You throw your hands on the keys, striking a dissonant chord that makes you both wince. Mr. Skywalker instantly pulls your hands away.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he said with concern. “I promise you’ll get this. It just takes time. I know you practice too much as it is.”

“I want to be good! I want to be a star!” With that, you break down instantly and cry. He never minds when you cry in front of him.

“One day, you will be. I believe in you,” he soothes you, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head as if you belong to him. He hugs you. “We can try again when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” you say, leaning against him to hear the echo of his heart. His heartbeat is sensual to you, even at sixteen. You can’t explain it. These stupid hormonal feelings you have for him are so wrong. But when you look up into his passionate eyes, you see the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. You have to marry him. You have to.

From the time you were five, you were afraid of thunder and lightning. Terrified by it actually. The fear is still with you today. But it was so much worse in middle school and high school. You started taking lessons from Anakin when you were fourteen years old. And you were still such a child then. You remembered the time it stormed so hard during your lesson that you had to spend the night at his house because it was too dangerous for your mother to come pick you up. But that also meant you couldn’t hide your abnormal fear of a thunderstorm from Anakin.

He had this giant plush rug under the piano. When you asked him about it, he said that it caught the sound. At the tail end of your lesson, the night you had to stay over, lightning struck close to his house and spooked you so much that you shrieked and slipped under the piano, curling up on that soft rug like a scared puppy.

Anakin was such a sweetheart because he followed you there.

“Hey,” he whispers, rubbing your back, “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You cry into your arms, hiding your face. “I know! I know it’s stupid of me. I just—”

“It’s not stupid. We all have different fears.” After he says that, he lies on his back beside you. “But I won’t let the storm hurt you, okay. We can stay here all night.”

And that you did. You cowered under the grand piano in his parlor all night long. That was the first time you ever cuddled with a boy, only he was a man almost twice your age. But that didn’t bother you. And it seemed not to bother him. He let you hold onto him through the night and squeeze him a little harder when you heard thunder. It has been one of your most precious memories of your piano teacher.

You had always known Anakin could be a little jealous. Any time you would mention your school friends the air would get tense, as if he didn’t want you to have anyone else in your life but him. He never said that, but he didn’t have to. There was always rage somewhere beneath the still blueness of his eyes, but his rage was never directed towards you until you told him that Drew wanted you to be his girlfriend.

You were seventeen. And you were so excited to have your first boyfriend even if you weren’t in love with him. At least people might not tease you for still being a virgin because it wouldn’t be so obvious. Anakin never did make fun of you for your innocence. He always said that it’s okay to wait until you’re ready or for the right person.

Immediately after you share the news of your official relationship with Drew, he freezes and closes the lid to the piano keys.

His jaw is tight. His voice is tense. “Maybe... we should be done for today.” He doesn’t even acknowledge what you said, as if he’s afraid to.

But you have no one else to celebrate with. Drew is a secret you keep from them because he’s not involved in church. “Did you hear me?” you press.

He grinds his teeth hard, and you hear bone against bone. Anakin nods. “I did.”

You nudge his arm. “Well?”

“Well what?” he snaps bitterly. He turns slightly to glare at you. “You know how I feel ab—about him.”

You roll your eyes. Anakin is a dramatic guy sometimes. “Drew isn’t that bad. He can be sweet. And he’s going to take me to prom!”

Anakin rises off the piano bench and pats down his black slacks. “So, you don’t care what I think then?” He’s staring down upon you with overwhelming disapproval. The muscles of his arms bulge when he crosses them over his chest.

Palms against the leather cushion, you hold yourself up. You notice yourself trembling when you realize that he’s not teasing you. He’s very upset... with you. Why would he be—does this mean—does he feel something after all?

“Of course, I do, Mr. Skywalker.”

“I told you not to get close with him!” he shouts. You’ve never heard him raise his voice at you. “He has bad intentions. He’s just a dumb kid. What does he know about loving you?”

You start to sob. “I’m sorry. I thought you might be... happy for me?”

He scoffs. And it sounds like you disgust him right now. “I don’t want to hear about him ever again. I don’t want to know anything about your little boyfriend. Do. You. Understand?”

Having him speak to you that way made you feel like a little girl. And you hated that feeling more than anything else. You knew that you were innocent, and you hated yourself for it because it made you feel inadequate to love the man you really wanted.

But now you’d do anything to have that innocence again. You didn’t realize at the time how free you once were. Growing up was harder than you thought it would be. It almost broke you.

You were lucky to have someone like Anakin to build you back up again, even if he was the one that tore you down that time.

After he yelled at you, you rushed out of his home as quickly as you could. The silence lasted a day. And then he drove to your house and knocked on your door. He held in his hands a bouquet of white roses and on his lips was the apology you were waiting for.

Nothing changed between you after that. Until your next birthday came around.

Up to your eighteenth birthday, your interactions were mostly harmless. But when you turned eighteen, an official adult, the tension between you had changed. The energies you both entertained shifted and became... dare you say... sexual to a degree. Anakin seemed to treat you a little differently now that you were fair game.

To celebrate your eighteenth birthday, he was there. In fact, he was the only one you insisted that mother invite. Not Drew or any of your school friends. Just Anakin. And he had to be there because he really was your one true friend. You couldn’t imagine celebrating your birthday without him. He was always a guest at your birthday parties, but he gave you a special gift this year, one so unforgettable that sometimes you hear it clear as day.

Anakin wrote you a piano solo. One that was simple, sweet, and addicting. You told him to play it again and again. After cake and presents, you made him teach you how to play it. You were very proficient now, and often could play things just by hearing them once. But the chords he chose for your song were unique and shouldn’t have meshed so well together. But they did. Just like you and him. Unlikely friends. Star-crossed lovers in your head.

The two of you stayed at the piano all evening, messing around with the song. By the end, you both had figured out how to layer the notes and chords in an even more perfect duet. Playing piano with him was almost the best birthday gift in the world to you. But it was not what you wished for.

You wished for a kiss.

But that would mean you’d have to tell him how you felt. And you were terrified. As an adult, now you could. It was more empowering than you thought it could be.

But you never did find a chance to tell me on your birthday. You were too afraid to ruin your night with a love confession. You know he would do the right thing and reject you, but that didn’t stop you from dreaming for the impossible.

When you walked him outside to his car—you insisted—your secret birthday wish came true. Not in the way you expected. But a kiss did happen. Your piano teacher kissed you on the cheek. Your face burned the whole night through. You couldn’t sleep because you wanted to know what it meant. He had never used his lips to touch any part of you before.

Physical contact had always been an important part of your bond with Anakin since the beginning. There were always the hugs that lasted just a little too long. And he seemed to always find an excuse to hold your hand. But he was your piano teacher, and the hand-to-hand contact always felt necessary and never strange.

But following your very special birthday, you found him staring at you a little longer, a little more deeply, and he seemed to always find an excuse to touch you, not in a sexual way but in a way that led you to believe the attraction wasn’t one sided.

He’d tuck your hair behind your ears, brush the side of your arm, and sit impossibly close to you that you swore you could almost hear his heartbeat. Anakin had never been hesitant to touch you before, but if there were any boundaries before, they were forgotten by him. And you enjoyed it. His new attention made you feel special and wanted. And that was all you ever wanted.

You began to touch him too. And seek physical attention from him. You would nuzzle his arm. Slip your fingers between his. Tap your shoes against his. He’d always notice, and he always hugged you or kissed your cheek in response.

You two were getting closer than ever before. Sometimes... you would barely touch the keys, getting lost in conversation. At this point, Drew and any other boy you were interested in before might as well have been dead. There was only room in your heart for Anakin.

And you had discovered a way to tell him without using your fragile words.

You sit on the bench waiting for him to get off the phone with his mother. She called him shortly after he let you in. About ten minutes later, he comes back.

“Sorry. I was worried she was in trouble,” he says, taking his spot beside you. “Now, where were we last week?”

“We... didn’t really go over anything.”

He bites into his full lower lip with a mischievous look in his eyes. “What are you paying me for then?”

You laugh because you’ve never once paid him for his time. You nudge his thigh with yours. “Honestly, I don’t really think there’s much more you could teach me.”

He raises a brow. “Oh really?”

You nod. “Actually, I’ve been writing something for you.”

His jaw lowers, and his mouth hangs open slightly. “How long have you kept this secret?”

“Since my birthday.”

He slips his arm around your back and rests his hand on your hip. “I’m impressed. Show me?”

You gulp heavily. That had been the plan today. It is ready for him. He’d never judge you even if it were bad. But you know that it’s not. You know that he’ll know what this piece means. He knows you too well. He’s too perceptive of everything. You wrote it in his favorite key, C minor.

With your hands a little shaky, your fingers glide softly across the piano and press down powerfully in chords. Through music, you profess your love. Anakin sits beside you and waits for you to finish. When you do, he’s waiting, staring with tears thickening his dark eyelashes. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything, but you know... he knows how you feel.

You tug on his shirt, drawing him closer. A war of heart and mind reflects on his face. He’s doubting what he wants. His resistance is half-hearted. It isn’t long before he scoops you up in his arms and kisses you. This time his mouth is on your lips, wetting them, and tugging them apart to fill you with his tongue.

Drew was never this good. His mouth was sloppy and tight. Anakin kisses like he’s done this a thousand times before. And he kisses like he wants you. Like he’s wanted you for such a long time, despite how wrong you both know that is.

He holds you down in his lap, and you hug him tightly, carding your fingers through his dreamy hair. You start to feel lightheaded because you haven’t been able to breathe, but you don’t want to stop him. If you stop him, he might think and realize that he doesn’t want you anymore.

But you’re dying. Turning blue. You tap his shoulder. And he stops devouring you. His lips sparkle when he smiles. “Too much for you, baby?”

You sharply inhale, finally catching your breath. You shake your head. You want more. You need it. More isn’t even enough.

You spend the whole lesson entangled with one another until your mother comes to pick you up.

For the next month, that’s all you did. Kiss and kiss and kiss. Breathe and breathe and breathe. And kiss some more. You wondered why he was waiting to take you to his bed. You wanted that with him, but he never asked you to go that far. He seemed afraid. Even when his affection was overflowing in passion as you always knew it would be, it was clear that he was holding himself back. Did he need you to tell him what to do?

Your make out sessions extended beyond just your lesson time. Whenever he would come over to your house, he would go upstairs with you to your bedroom, and you’d end up tangled in the sheets. Though with every item of clothing on. Your parents never suspected anything was happening to their young, virtuous daughter. They trusted him completely. And so did you. You would have done anything he asked of you no matter the risks.

Even at church, he’d find a way to get you alone. In the girl’s bathroom. During the preacher’s sermon.

Anakin lifts you onto the sink and spreads your legs out so that he can fit between them and get close to you. Thumb under your chin, he tilts your face up to his. He grins before going in for a kiss.

Your lavender baby doll dress rides up your thighs as he inches closer. He presses up against the crotch of your panties. The dampness is cold against your tender flesh. His erection only grows as the friction between you builds, your bodies rubbing against each other in a clothed attempt to satisfy yourselves sexually.

And now you’re glad you waited and didn’t mess around with Drew like he wanted when you were together. Because that means Anakin could be your very first.

He freezes up when you try to unbuckle his big belt. Anakin looks at you strangely, almost disturbed by your actions.

You lean to his ear and whisper, “I. Want. It.” You had thought your seductive voice would be enough to cast him off the edge of all hesitation, that he’d bend to your will and give you what you want.

But all you did was kill the fire.

Head shaking, he backs away. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

And you didn’t see him for nearly a month after that. But you don’t regret what you said. You were tired of just endless make out sessions. It seemed so immature, and you knew you were ready for something real.

All of those memories, those beautiful capsules of your favorite times with Anakin, are the reason you find yourself on his doorstep, a quarter till midnight in the pouring rain.

Complete desperation.

You took your moms car without permission just to drive over despite the threat of a storm. And you’re still deathly afraid of them. But you came anyway. Because tomorrow, you’re leaving for college. You might not get another chance to fix things. Death would be better than living another moment without him.

“You haven’t been answering my texts or my calls, Anakin.”

The door is barely cracked open, just enough that you can see his pale face. Dark circles surround his rainy eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, not even making eye contact.

Thunder echoes behind you. The wind blows your hair around. Leaves rustle, filling the silence between you both. It’s going to storm soon. You had been stupid enough to drive to his house just before a storm. But you couldn’t take not knowing what had happened to him and why he was dodging your calls.

The eyes that used to linger a little too long won’t acknowledge you even as you stand in front of him.

“Why are you being like this? This isn’t you!” you nearly scream. You’re so afraid that he’s not only pushing you away but also ejecting you from his life completely, as if the memories you share can be erased. He’s engrained in almost every memory you have.

“It can’t happen. Go away.”

He tries to close the door on you, but you stick the toe of your right shoe in the crack before it shuts.

“Please… please don’t do this.”

Anakin’s eyes are bloodshot as if he’s been crying. “What I want isn’t right. I can’t do it. I don’t know if I could live with myself after.”

Does he really hate me so much? Is that the truth? Perhaps it’s your naivety, but you won’t let him go so easily. You have suffered in silence for nearly a decade, pining after him, waiting for him to reciprocate the depth of your feelings. Your hands shake as you reach out to him. If he would just… hold your hand like he used to, then maybe everything would be alright.

Your fingertips brush against each other. You feel the spark instantly, and it travels down your spine, leaving you wanting to touch him more.

“What about what I want?”

Anakin blinks several times before he speaks. It’s as if he didn’t consider your feelings in this decision. “You’re… not in a position to see things clearly. You’re—”

“Don’t say it!” you exclaim, squeezing your fists. “I’m not a child. I’m all grown up. And you know it. You see it.”

Anakin sighs a long time, his eyes scanning down your body. “Of course, I see it. But that doesn’t make it okay.”

Though you can never overpower him, you still try to force the door open. “Just let me in. We can talk. Just let me talk to you.”

Anakin’s frown is firm, and his stillness enforces that he’s not backing down. “I don’t know. If I let you in… if you cry… I’ll want to hold you. Then things might happen. I don’t know if I can control myself around you.”

Hugging yourself, you gaze upwards, into eyes that finally meet yours. His eyes reveal his mourning, his grief, his lust. It’s the latter that sends shivers through your body. The knowing that he wants you is more than you can take.

“I don’t want you to.”

There.

You said it.

You have told him exactly what you want. And if you hadn’t made it painfully obvious before, he knows now that you’re no longer thinking like a little girl.

Following a sigh of defeat, he backs away from the door, and you move in.

All the lights are off in his home. He must have been sitting in the dark like a vampire. The piano lid is open. He never left it open unless he was actively playing.

Anakin strides across the room to seat himself on the piano bench. He taps the spot next to him. “You’re right.... We should talk. Talk. Nothing more.”

Sitting beside him here feels like the most natural thing in the world. Here, you’re not afraid to speak from the heart. He’d never judge you even if he disagrees. But you’re not so sure he disagrees this time.

He wants you too.

“I couldn’t let you go back. I can’t believe you drove in the rain.”

You shrug. “It’s just rain. The storm hasn’t—”

The windows flash like they would in a horror flick, and thunder comes after. With a whimper, you grab onto his arm.

“I can drive you back home once we talk,” he says emotionlessly, gently pulling you off him.

But you double down and grab his arm, tugging him back again. “Don’t push me away.”

He doesn’t do it again. He stills. And sighs. “That’s the last thing that I want to do.”

With your chin resting on his sleeve, you look up at him, wide-eyed. “Just kiss me like you always do. And don’t think about it.” You stretch your arm out and fiddle with the top button of his dress shirt. “I’m not thinking.”

His chest rises and falls with his breaths. He doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his shirt.

When you rise on your knees, you’re at eye level. He’s so much bigger than you even now. He makes you feel so small. Holding onto his arm, you lean close and peck his clean-shaven cheek. He winces as if you pricked him with a needle.

“Angel, I shouldn’t.”

You kiss him again, closer to his lips, almost tasting him. “It’s me. Don’t you want me?”

Finally, he turns and looks in your eyes. Then at your mouth. “Don’t tell anyone. You... understand how this might look. What they might say about—”

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” you whisper. “What’s one more?”

You finish unbuttoning his shirt for him. Taking care of him feels good. You run your fingertips down his chest and his abdomen. His bare skin. It’s soft and warm. Suddenly, he grabs your wrist.

“Cold hands,” he murmurs. He takes your hands between them. He rubs his hands over your fast to warm them with friction.

“Sorry.”

Still rubbing your hands, he stands and leads you to the back of his grand piano near the flashing window.

Any other time, you would be trembling in fear because of the loud storm, but tonight you’re trembling because of the new feelings bubbling inside you. You’ve never been so aroused before.

“Can I hold you?” he says as pulls you into his embrace.

You can hear his steady heartbeat and feel it pumping right against your sensitive ear. Your piano teacher holds you against him and tangles his talented fingers in your hair. He sniffs your neck before taking a bite. His teeth pinch your flesh, and his tongue soothes you. The pain he leaves in several spots along your neck means that he’s marked you as his.

Your own heart is racing at lightning speed. You can’t think. In his arms, you’re helpless to his whims. You need him to tell you what to do. All you want is to please him.

“I’ll do anything,” you whisper to him so weakly you question if he hears you.

Anakin slowly unzips the back of your dress. “Consider this a teaching moment.” His voice doesn’t sound like it usually does. The undertones are sultry and possessive. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to—” He stops to pull down your dress, and his eyes wander over your pretty body. You wore transparent lace underwear and a matching bralette. He can see everything you hide from the rest of the world.

And he tells you, “You’re perfection.”

That makes you want to kiss him so badly. You try to lift yourself to reach his lips, but he’s too tall.

“Be patient,” he chides. “I want you to lay down first.” He guides you under the piano.

You lie down on your back atop the giant rug. Instantly, relaxation takes over as you remember all the times you used to lie here with him, hiding from the storm. Never did you think this would be the place where you’d give yourself to him. This must be meant to be.

He follows you after fully undressing. His body is every inch a man’s. His size makes you feel so small. He runs the risk of crushing you with his weight.

Lying on his side, he looks down at you, watching his own fingers running under the elastic of your lacy panties. “Take these off and spread your legs.” He whispers kisses to your cheek. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Nodding, you do as you’re told and wiggle out of your underwear. He snatches them from you and crunches them in his hands before throwing them over his shoulder. You proceed with fanning your legs open. The air is frigid as it touches you.

Anakin is looking where no one else has. “I’m so proud of you for waiting. Saving yourself just for me.”

You gasp as he kisses you between your legs. He kisses you there for a long time. It feels strange and wonderful. The feeling building inside you makes you moan and your toes curl. You feel so good your body aches. You hear your own heartbeat. You breathe but can’t find relief. Nothing soothes the need inside you but his mouth, his lips, his tongue. And before long you hit the breaking point, pleasure storming through your body from your place beneath him. Your cries are dampened by the thunderous sounds outside, but he hears you. He stops to look at your face. Making eye contact with him heightens the vulnerability of the situation. The intense way he looks at you burns. He notices every little change in your expression.

Anakin knows he made you feel good, but he still asks, “Did you like that?” He brushes the wild strands of hair away from your face. You know you’re precious to him. He sweetly kisses your forehead. “I like your taste.”

Your cheeks are seared by that comment. You cover your eyes, not wanting to let him see how he’s affecting you. “I did like it.”

“Do you want to do more?” He kisses your lips this time, and you taste yourself. “I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready.”

“I am ready!” you lift your head up and cup his cheek. “Don’t make me wait longer. I’m leaving tomorrow.” You bite your lip, knowing how dangerous what you’re about to say is because of who you’re saying it to. “Do you really want some college guy to be the one who gets me first?”

As if trying to reject the image you gave his mind, he closes his eyes and tightens his jaw. “No,” is his short answer. From the way his lips are pressed together, you know he wants to say more, but he’s saving you from his own selfish anger.

“Me either.” You rub his cheek with your thumb. “Anakin,” it feels right to call him by his first name instead of Mr. Skywalker, “I’ve waited for you. I always knew this would happen.”

He chuckles lightly. “I never gave you permission to use my name. Don’t forget—” he grunts as he slides two of his fingers between your slick folds and pushes them inside, “your manners, young one.”

These same fingers were the ones that rested atop yours when you were first learning to play piano. They pointed to the right key when you played the wrong note. They pointed to the sheet music to guide you along for all these years. They held your hands when they were cold.

And now he’s using them to teach you something new. But he’s just as skilled at fingering you as he is with music. You’re like his new instrument. He’s plucking all the right strings in just the right way to make you cry out for him. With your body pliant, he controls when you come. He doesn’t make you wait for it. He uses his thumb too and nudges until you come. It’s wetter than the last. And he instructs you to lick his fingers off when he’s done.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks again. “Don’t hate me for asking.” He hangs his head a little.

What he doesn’t understand is how insatiable he’s caused you to be. There were so many times you thought you might explode from how desperately you wanted him. But now it’s okay if that does happen.

“Keep going. Please,” you beg. You’re not ready to stop. You’ve waited for this moment since you were fourteen years old. If it were up to you, you’d live here forever.

“If that’s what you really want,” Anakin moves from lying at your side to settling himself between your legs.

“It is,” you reassure him. Holding onto his neck, you pull yourself up a bit. “Can you kiss me too?”

He grins before pushing you down, his large hand spread out over your soft stomach, and he chases your lips as you fall. You’re partially distracted by his mouth as his cock slides inside you. You had expected it to be more of a challenge, all things considered. Throughout high school, your friends always complained about how much it hurt their first time. Some girls bled too. And that had scared you, which is one of the reasons you never took Drew up on his many offers of a “good time.” Deep down you knew he wouldn’t treat you right. But Anakin clearly is experienced with having sex. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as you thought he had been all those years.

This being your very first time, it does sting when he fills you completely, his bony hips pressed against yours. You feel the tightness and the stretch. But you enjoy how it feels. You’re so close to passing out just because this is as close as you can get to someone.

Anakin rocks in and out slowly. Maybe he can feel that you’re tired. He’s being gentle with you despite how much he wants to rail your cunt to shreds. You can tell when he’s holding himself back. He has that weary, pained look in his rainy eyes. A part of you wants to tell him that it’s okay. Let go. But you both know that you couldn’t handle the full extent of his lust.

“Can I come inside you?” he asks before sinking his teeth into a bruise along your neck.

Short of breath, you answer, “I said... anything.”

“Okay,” his shaky voice whispers. He buries his face into the curve of your neck and moans your name into your skin. He pulls your hair gently as he finishes, his heat spreading through your core. It’s so much that you feel it leaking out.

After, he holds you there all night long. He doesn’t let you leave. And you wouldn’t want to escape.

The three words he says to you as you leave his house the morning after, you realize that he’s lied to you all the years you’ve known him.

The piano isn’t his only love or his only obsession.

It’s an outlet, and yet a mask for his sin nature which you understand more deeply than any other girl ever will.

He’s kept his real obsession hidden from everyone but you.

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@universallypiratecolor

inbox me if you want to be removed from the taglist. ty

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nonexistent-introvert · 9 months

Text

Seat Partners

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Content: Highschool au, miguel is a nerd who plays soccer, fluff?

A/N: Inspired by a fanart of Miguel's yearbook photo by @/blueastriz on twitter . I had so much fun with this

You sighed inwardly as you searched for your name on the seating plan that was being displayed on the projector. When you finally did find your name, you inhaled, preparing yourself for your partner for the year.

Miguel O’Hara. You furrowed your eyebrows at that name. He wasn’t the worst person you could be assigned to sit next to for the rest of the year but he wasn’t the best either. This year would mark your fourth year of being in the same class with him. Despite that, you have never spoken a word to him before. Well, you had the whole year to cozy up to him anyways.

Miguel only briefly glanced up at his work out of curiosity to know who he was sitting next to. Not that it matters anyways, Miguel had the reputation of being silent. The kind of person who never spoke unless it was necessary, or about the work at hand. You let out a sigh as you put down your bag, you would actually lose your mind if you had to actually pay attention to the lessons now because Miguel didn’t seem like the type to entertain your comical remarks.

You sat down beside him, wrecking your head for a conversation topic. Miguel paid zero mind to you, his focus on the notebook before him where he was solving some math problems. You pursed your lips to prevent the groan from escaping you, you absolutely detested math. You watched enviously as the rest of the class talked among themselves, eager to get to know their partner.

“Quiet down.” Mr. Jones ordered, the whole room slowly fell into silence. Mr Jones cleared his throat, “There will be no change of seats unless there was a valid reason. This seating plan has been carefully thought out, being partners means helping each other out. Most of you will be sitting with someone whose strongest subjects are your weakest subjects and vice versa.” You glanced at Miguel from beside you, he was paying Mr. Jones no mind. His pen scribbling against his notebook as he solved yet another question. It was almost insulting sitting next to him. Miguel O’Hara, the straight A’s student and top of the class, next to you who was barely passing most of your subjects, your highest grade being a B.

“You’re staring.” You almost jumped at the sound of Miguel’s voice. You spun the pen in your hand, you never thought that Miguel would be the first person to talk between the two of you. “I hate math.” You told him, staring down at the equations in his notebook, free of errors. His lips quirked upwards but his eyes were fixated on his notebook. “It really isn’t that bad.” You scoffed at him, “I have literally never passed a single math exam.” You deadpanned. Miguel remained silent, his pen scribbling at a rapid rate again. You sighed, your first conversation with him ended in 3 sentences.

====

“What lesson is next?” You asked, mentally counting down the hours till school ended. “Math.” Your friend, Shannon replied. You cursed under your breath, an hour of not understanding anything. “You could always ask him you know? I mean Mr Jones encouraged everyone to seek help from their partners.” Shannon advised you looked at her like she was crazy. Before you could say anything, Miguel entered your vision. A towel around his neck while he casually leaned down to pick up his bag, stuffing the t-shirt he had worn to lunch to play soccer with his friends. He has already changed back into his white button-up, contrary to the other guys in your class who isn’t even back yet. Miguel picked up his spectacles case from his table and put on his rectangular glasses. It was shocking to witness his duality, how a simple glasses could turn him from the most skilled and charming soccer player in your school into the quiet nerd that most people knew. When Miguel met your eye contact, you gave him a forced smile. “Um, your collar.” You gestured to his collar. His hands traced his collar before adjusting the part that was still upturned. “Oh.”Miguel breathed out, “Thanks.” he muttered softly. Too bad the class was too noisy for you to hear him.

You were trying your best to stifle the third yawn that was escaping you. The numbers on the screen made no sense to you, you had zero idea how the angle at one side was supposedly equal to the angle on the other side of the figure. Miguel was the complete opposite of you, he sat up straight, his eyes scanning the diagram on the board while his ears took in every word your math teacher uttered. His pen scribbling against his notebook as he tried to better visualize the problem. You lazily doodled on the blank page in your notebook, not even daring to start a conversation with Miguel when he looks so focused. Most people would appreciate a distraction from the math but Miguel, he looked entirely invested in the lesson. He looked like he would snap at you or find you annoying if you distracted him from his favorite class.

The hands on the clock seemed to be frozen in time. You could have sworn time paused and no one noticed. You have been sitting in this lesson for what felt like an entire day and yet only 30 minutes have passed. Your vision has slowly lost focus and your eyelids were threatening to close anytime. You rubbed at your eyes tiredly, taking sips of water to try to stay awake and yet nothing seemed to work. Your hand held onto your pen and yet you still felt your head slowly dipping down, as though it was getting heavier by the second. Soon enough, you were drifting in and out of consciousness.

Miguel couldn’t help but be distracted by your movement from beside him. His pupils moved to the side, he was trying to avoid having to turn his whole head to look at you. He watched from the corner of his eye as your head tilted to his side, head falling dangerously near to his shoulder before you forced yourself awake and tried to sit up straight. Miguel used one of his hands to cover the lower part of his face, trying to hide the amused look on his face as he watched your head oscillate from left to right while you tried your hardest to stop yourself from dozing off. He quickly averted his gaze back onto the projector when you rubbed your eyes, running your hands through your hair before eventually lying your head on the table. Falling asleep soon after.

The sound of your name being called out and the knocking against your table startled you awake. Miguel was staring straight ahead, as though he was avoiding your gaze. “Now that you’re awake. Would you like to tell me how you prove that triangle ABD is an isosceles triangle?” You let out a string of curses under your breath. Standing up from your seat to answer your math teacher, Ms Jane’s question. “Give me a moment.” You replied, eyes squinting at the projector. You rubbed the back of your neck, you were definitely not equipped with enough knowledge to know how to solve this question. You glance over at Miguel, giving him a helpless look, hoping that he would get the hint and help you. Miguel met your eye and gave you a blank look. You wanted to scoff at him, helpful my ass. You glanced at the notebook in front of him, knowing that Miguel would probably be at least a few parts already ahead, you could search for the answer in his notebook easily, especially when everything was already so neatly labeled like answers out of an answer key.

Miguel noticed your antics soon enough, he closed his notebook. “Bastard.” You cursed at him, you’re pretty sure he heard you from the exasperated exhale he let out. “Um,” You looked back up at Ms. Jane, “The most obvious answer is that triangle BAC already looks like an isosceles triangle.” You answered with a confident grin. A few chuckles echoed in the class, at least you made some people laugh. “Very funny miss, remain standing for the rest of the lesson” Ms Jane snarked. Ms Jane looked over to Miguel who sat beside you. “Mr. O’Hara, would you like to help out your partner?” Miguel stood up, you rolled your eyes at him. What a brilliant way to showcase to the whole class how the both of you were on totally different levels. Miguel looked over at you.

“I’m sorry Ms Jane but I don’t have an answer for your question either. I haven’t managed to solve it.” Miguel lied. You looked at him with your jaw agape, knowing perfectly well that he was at least on the third part of the question already. So why did he lie? Ms Jane stared at Miguel, “Oh I see. Then I guess you would have to remain standing along with your partner.”

Miguel O’Hara was like a dice roll. You had zero idea what was going on in that mind of his while he stood beside you. His eyes fixated on his notebook, almost finishing with the last part of the question already. And yet, he lied. “Did you want to stand, get punished or-” You asked, jaw still slightly agape at his actions. Miguel looked over at you, giving you a half-hearted hum in response. You looked at him for a few more seconds before realizing that he wasn’t going to give you a direct answer, you doubted he truly processed your words.

When the bell finally rang, you sat back down with a sigh. Relieved to finally be able to rest your legs. Miguel did too, swiftly packing up his things from his table. “Why did you lie?” You asked again. Miguel stuffed his books into his bag, ignoring your question “I mean you could have just given me the answer that you already solved for, so why did you-”

“You wouldn’t have gained anything from me giving you the answer. You still wouldn’t have understood how to get the answer, definitely not how to solve for it in future examinations.” He answered like it was common sense. “Ok, goody two shoes. Then why did you lie?” “You would be doing wonders if you had as many questions about classes,” he remarked. You pursed your lips at his mocking remark. “Answer me.” You demanded. Miguel looked at you, pushing his hair back. “I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed for not knowing the answer. As much as you try to pretend that you don’t care, I know that you’re not immune to the opinion of others. People would laugh if you didn’t understand but they wouldn’t laugh if I didn’t get it too. Because, well, not to brag but I am at the top of the class.” Miguel stated bluntly. You scoffed, trying to hide the fact that he had hit the bullseye with his analysis. It was no wonder why some people found him egoistic and rude. He definitely had to sacrifice some of his EQ for the exceptionally high IQ he possessed. Miguel swung his backpack over his shoulder, “And you learned something today didn’t you? You’re a step closer to passing a math examination now.” he smiled at you. You felt your heart skip a beat at his smile, it wasn’t a big one, it was a really small one. “So you got punished in an attempt to make me listen to class?” You laughed, it was such a foolish antic. Miguel didn’t confirm nor deny the fact, he simply chuckled.

“See you tomorrow partner.” Miguel waved before striding out of the class.

#miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider-man #into the spider verse #spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you

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nerds-yearbook · 6 months

Text

F.B.I. Special Agent Fox Mulder was born on October 13, 1961. ("The Unusual Suspects", X-Files, TV)

#nerds yearbook #david duchovny #fox mulder #special agent fox mulder #xfiles #x files #october #1961

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j0eyj0rdis0n · 7 months

Text

Ok so this has been on my mind for a MINUTE. So here’s my school AU! Please ask questions and please add your headcannons too!! If you want more in depth AU headcannons I’d love to write them!

CREEPS SCHOOL AU

JEFF THE KILLER:

Football player and all the girls swoon over him for it. He’s not even the star player?? But hey I guess being a running back is pretty cool? (fuck quarterbacks!!)

Mans barely keeping his grades up

He’s only passing so he can stay on the football team

One of the “popular” guys since he’s just so well known by all the creeps. Everyone sits with him and the football team at lunch

JANE THE KILLER:

Varsity volleyball player and she’s GOOD. Like she’d get a full ride scholarship for college

Star player unlike Jeff

She’s also in Choir! A soprano of course. It’s more of a just for fun thing so she doesn’t take it too seriously but she definitely tries her best (please come to her concerts)

Straight A student. Don’t play with her.

NINA THE KILLER:

Cheerleader!! 100% a flyer. She cheers exclusively for Jeff too. Not quite the cheer captain but close in the ranks. One of the best at tumbling and gymnastics

Social butterfly and everyone knows her. She’s on hoco court for sure.

I feel like she’s always just a little short of the top. Socially, academically, athletically. She just seems to get overshadowed

Pretty decent student, she’s more interested in a social life than academics though.

KATE THE CHASER:

Cross country/ track. She’s set the most records in the school history. She can compete in anything but prefers long distance or sprints

Super humble about her wins and records, not a fan of the spotlight that her athleticism gets her

Pretty damn smart, but she’s quiet about it. People just know she sits in the back and does her work.

High A grades

CLOCKWORK:

Varsity basketball. Definitely a starter too. Combo Guard 100%. She gives me Caitlin Clark vibes?? (look her up she’s badass)

Probably also does track but just because the coaches knew she was tall and she could jump hurdles like no one’s business

On the side she spends a lot of her time in the art rooms since it’s quiet and she gets some alone time

Also a pretty good student, more on the B sides of grades though,

“TICCI” TOBY:

I feel like this kid is in everything for some reason?? But definitely varsity soccer as his main activity. He’s a goalkeeper mainly but he can swing to whatever position you need him to be. He’s probably in bowling with Ben too

But he’s 100% in band too. He plays trombone (the best instrument) he’s in concert band, marching band, and jazz band.

He’s pretty popular too just because he’s cute and pretty much an all rounder

Average student, doesn’t have much time or attention for homework so that’s where his grades fall

TIM/MASKY:

HUNK. This man is the star wrestler of the school. Probably in the 182lbs weight class. People are SCARED to wrestle this man.

Doesn’t talk much, just does his work and gets tf out. Honestly most people avoid him

Pretty good student too, high B’s to medium level A’s

He participates in the field portion of track and field. Loves that he gets to throw shit

BRIAN/HOODIE:

Baseball boy!! Those pants look damn good on him too. Usually a pitcher but sometimes a shortstop. Loves running so this shit is perfect for him. The girls LOOOOVE him. Like imagine Brian in the uniform with that goofy smile???

Also probably in yearbook (if he has time, he gives me lazy vibes)

Decent student too, probably high C’s and B’s

Honestly might dabble in bowling with Ben and Toby

EYELESS JACK:

No sports for him! If he was going to participate in any sports it would probably be swim team? Honestly not a sports guy though

But this man is in the honor society!! Like he’s SMART

Excellent student, like all 100%’s

Everyone comes to him for homework help, but of course he charges

BEN DROWNED:

Varsity bowling!! This man is a NERD and he’s damn good at bowling. Not quite a record breaker but definitely someone scouts look at

He started the team and reps it like no one’s business. He tries to get everyone to join.

He only gets good grades because he cheats

Also the leader of the gaming club!

SALLY:

She’s on the dance team 100%. Loves the outfits and looooves solo’s

But honestly she focuses more on 4H. She focuses on livestock and loves raising sheep. (Yes I know this is more of an out of school activity)

She’s probably in the garden club too! I feel like she just likes agriculture? Everyone gets along with her she’s just a sweetie

Great student! High A’s and she studies all the time

JUDGE ANGELS:

Either in marching band or color guard I can’t really decide. She either plays flute or trumpet! But if she’s in color guard she 100% has a solo/ feature moment in the show

She’s super shy but everyone seems to get along with her because she’s a sweetie #2

I also feel like all the guys try to get with her just because she’s so beautiful

Also a really good student! Studies all the time and probably has a study group

BLOODY PAINTER:

Another non sports guy! Doesn’t have anything against it but it’s just obviously not for him.

He’s the art club leader and takes it super seriously! He tries to get everyone’s art in papers, fairs, and exhibits.

Everyone thinks he’s kinda weird but they respect his dedication to art and others

Another really good student, he doesn’t have to study though

THE PUPPETEER:

School newspaper editor/writer. He knows everything about everyone and has no problem writing a dark column about them

No one talks to him at all, they don’t want him to write about them

He’s also a theater kid, idk he just gives me the vibes

Decent student, he’s just casual about it

JASON THE TOYMAKER:

Non sports guy pt. 197583.

He’s in the sewing club and absolutely loves it. Everyone thinks he’s gay for it though (Jeff teases the shit out of him)

He’s also a theater kid, more on the props side of it though

Also a high B’s student

ZERO:

She’s in ROTC and she makes it her personality

Tries to get Clockwork to join all the time and they’re besties

I feel like she’s kinda dumb so probably high D’s to low C’s

HOMICIDAL LIU:

This man plays golf and he’s super chill about it!

Wears his scarf out on the green lmao

Not popular at ALL and he likes it that way

Also a super good student and again, super chill about it

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hqnqm1 · 7 months

Note

Could I request a nishinoya x reader soulmate au?

fated by thread; from me to you

nishinoya yū x GN!reader

A/N: this took way too long sorry 😥. kinda ooc noya? my first fic so might suck booty, not proofread

“why are you the odd one out?”

it’s a question you’ve been asked your whole life. everyone was fated with the red string of fate, including you. everyone had always found their fated person on the other end of the string. everyone except you. so how come everyone was falling in love, but you’re falling behind?

“the red string of fate is a phenomenon in which soulmates by fate are connected to another by a red thread that is tied around their pinkies. this thread is dull but starts to glow once the pair find each other. sometimes, you may feel your partner moving based on tugging on your pinky. this is an indication that your soulmate is nearby. it is the persons choice if they want to cut their thread for any reason to withdraw pining over their fated soulmate. once cut, the string becomes dull again. this does not affect anything, but is a sign of rejection. this can be undone if the person reties their string with genuine feelings, as their thread can glow again” you read out the information on the book somehow hoping that soon, your ribbon will glow too.

“gah” you grunt out in discomfort. ever since the school year started again, you’ve been feeling constant tugs at my pinky finger. “does my soulmate really like to bother me that much?” you thought.

you gently examine your finger and caress it.

“you alright?” a voice appears suddenly causing you to jump on the spot. you turn to see that it’s your friend, hinako.

“what the hell? you scared me” you lightly berate your friend following a short chuckle.

“sorry~ anyway. are you still up to join a club? i hear it’s mandatory according to the student council” the brunette girl casually speaks.

“i’m not interested…” you bashfully respond.

“well, you’ll have to find a club soon. i suggest you manage the guy’s soccer team! the guys are so hot.” hinako enthusiastically adds as she gives a playful smirk.

“yeah they’re hot, but the soccer team is full of stuck up, filthy rich brats…” you scoff.

“oh! what about the yearbook committee?” she suggests.

“that’s for nerds” you joke slightly to light up the mood.

“oh? then, as a last result, all i can think of is.. the manager for the guy’s volleyball team!” she exclaims excitedly.

stuck in a few thoughts, she continues her sentence with a dreamy expression. “i hear that the guys are so fine… and their manager is stunning too…”

“shimizu? like, the kiyoko shimizu? she’s the manager isn’t she? she’s gorgeous. maybe i can consider it” you take the opportunity into thought. after all, you used to play volleyball until the accident.

_________________________________

you’ve waited hours since that conversation from lunchtime and now you’re currently outside the school gym during after school hours, awaiting the third-year beauty. after what seemed like hours, she finally arrived, looking as stunning as ever.

“hello. i assume you’re here to visit?” a soothing, calm voice projects from kiyoko’s mouth as she radiates a small but welcoming smile.

“o-oh! yes! i’m here to try out for the manager” you blurt out suddenly as your face grows a furious red of embarrassment.

with no ill intent, kiyoko lightly giggles and beckons you to come inside the gym.

inside, you take in the vision of the nets that can easily loom over anyone, the scoreboards, the varnished wooden floors and not to mention, the fine guys.

one by one, they line up. you couldn’t help but find how breathtaking these men were.. that was until.. a special one showed up. black, spiked up hair with a highlighted strand at the front. he wore an orange uniform instead of karasuno’s standard black uniform for home games, indicating that he played libero. sure, he wasn’t the tallest, but did his pretty face make up for it.

that’s when it hit you. your thread ignited in a beautiful crimson luminescence.

in that moment, your heart thumps and throbs, your eyes widen, and you stare in awe. he’s your soulmate?

at first you thought he was approaching you, which made you freeze out of anxiety, thinking about the words to say when he approaches. instead he ran towards kiyoko instead with his friend with a shaven head. you can see kiyoko’s unimpressed demeanour around the two boys as they attempt to woo her.

then he turns to you.

“we must be the luckiest guys in the world, tanaka. to be blessed with these absolutely stunning people to keep coming to us! whatcha here for?” the shorter man smirks flirtatiously. in some way, it made you uncomfortable, but in another way, it made you feel appreciated and loved knowing that this man is your soulmate.

“well, i’m here to have a visit. i’m considering on becoming the next manager for the club” you respond with a constant consciousness to stay calm.

“you hear that nishinoya? they’re gonna be our manager! that’s great. what’s your name, hun?” tanaka asks with that musk voice of his.

“so that’s his name, huh” you thought.

your pulse races and you desperately try to keep your cool. clearly, the facade is breaking by each passing second.

“(name). pleasure to meet you” you hold your hand out.

in that moment, you see nishinoya’s eyes widen the moment he sees that the red threads connect. to your dismay, he doesn’t say a word and looks… disappointed.

he quickly shakes your hand then goes back to training as if the red string was nothing to him. you stand there dumbfounded and hurt. you found your fated mate and this is how the first meeting goes?

he continues to train and even after that disappointing exchange, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him more.

_____________________________________

successfully, you were able to become the manager of the karasuno boy’s volleyball team alongside kiyoko. spring tournament was approaching and you worked hard to prepare the boys for their important event.

training had ended already, the gym was empty, but, the only people that were filling the room were you and nishinoya.

“hey, can you pepper with me? i need to practise my digs” the libero asks you with an aloof and indifferent expression.

you haven’t played in a while ever since the accident that had injured your ankle. you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you didn’t want to reject his offer either. so you transported the basket of volleyballs. you start with a few quick shoulder warm ups, then you toss a volleyball upwards and spike it towards him.

the libero messes up his dig as the ball flies in the opposite direction. he lets out a snarky smirk.

“not bad. you’ve definitely played before” nishinoya retorts and he motions for you to keep going.

the little pepper session got more competitive. when the ball was set to him, he decided to do a feint and tipped the ball causing you to attempt a dive for the ball.

during the moment, unfortunately, you tore a ligament in your ankle from a past injury and you let out a scream of pain.

nishinoya’s stoic and indifferent attitude had dropped once seeing you injured.

“hey! wait! do you need me to take you to the infirmary?” his brows furrow in concern and he runs up to you, examining your ankle.

“yes… it’s just from a past injury..” you wince through the discomfort.

“is it alright if i guide you to the infirmary?” nishinoya asks in a gentle tone.

“that isn’t necessary…” you say bashfully although deep inside you clearly want him to be close to you.

“seriously, (name). you’re injured and you can’t walk” he responds, holding your hand to help you up. that strong, pulsating sensation in your chest appears again as your cheek grow faintly pink. he gently takes your arm to sling it around his shoulder as he guides you to the infirmary.

as he walks you there he makes a comment that flusters you.

“i can’t believe i get to touch the most stunning being i’ve seen right now” he proudly comments, making you flush red in embarrassment.

“hey wait! that was so uncalled for!” you chuckle.

little did you know that he never meant those words.

____________________________________

tournaments finished and unfortunately, they came runner-up to the winners. currently, you’re at the back of the sendai gym, comforting a weeping noya who has his knees tucked to his head.

“hey? noya, you worked hard and did the best you could. that’s more than enough okay? you did your best and i’m so proud of you for that. you know what? one competition doesn’t define who you are.. to me, you’re hardworking, amazing and you always try your best.. this competition may have ended up with you and the guys in second place, but to me, you’re always my number one-“

“I DON’T NEED YOUR PITY OKAY!? THIS? THIS IS JUST STUPID! STOP BABYING ME! YOU JUST WANT MY ATTENTION BECAUSE WE’RE SOULMATES, YEAH? WHY DO YOU THINK I NEVER TALK ABOUT IT HUH? IT’S BECAUSE I HATE THE FACT THAT YOU’RE MY SOULMATE! I WISHED IT WAS SOMEONE ELSE! SOMEONE BETTER, LIKE KIYOKO!” noya snaps out of a fit of rage, leaving you dumbfounded and processing his words. it slowly eats you up and shatters you as you watch him storm away in anger. that was the last time you talked to him until the end of the year.

_____________________________________

it was one of the last training sessions of the year and you carried the tub of the club member’s water bottles to refill them with yamaguchi. the two of you walk towards the back of the gym and hear an exchange going on…

“why wont you go out with me? i did everything for you!” nishinoya cries out in a pained expression.

“i’m sorry, we aren’t meant to be.. i’ve already found my soulmate and it isn’t you.. i hope you find the one you truly love and i hope they make you happier” kiyoko replies with remorse and pity.

“but… it’s you i want… not anyone else… i’ve already cut my red string just to be with you” a gasp falls from kiyoko’s and a eavesdropping yamaguchi’s mouth from nishinoya’s revelation.

for them, it was jaws that fell in surprise, but for you, it was tears that fell in heartbreak. you already knew he despised you ever since the tournament but this? this is too far. your true soulmate had cut the thread and denied you for another woman. you walk away in pain.

“why can’t he just love me back?” you thought.

_____________________________________

you were now in third year, studying hard just to get into your dream university.

lately, you’ve been getting snacks, poems, keychains, plushies galore stuffed in your locker, but never once have you found out who’s been behind all this.

you’ve noticed small blonde hair strands on the plushies. could this be from tsukishima? no, he’s way too cold to like anyone. either way, he’s a jerk so nobody would like him back. but then there were also jet black hairs on the other few gifts. could this be a case of a love triangle where you’re being pined by your juniors, both tsukishima and kageyama? impossible.

but you did know someone that had both hair colours on his head… you didn’t want to assume it was him, and it had been a while since you thought about the man that hurt you.

it was a rainy afternoon and you had just finished tutoring. on the way home, you were considering cutting your part of the thread off. you believed that it wouldn’t matter if the love was unrequited.

you hold your umbrella out to prevent the rain getting to you as you walk down the wet street, the sound of rain hitting the concrete lingering in your ears.

a tap on your shoulder could be felt and you turn around. it’s nishinoya yuu. he looks disheveled and somewhat remorseful? is he here to apologise?

“may i help you?” you ask with a slight pettiness.

“hey, uh… i hoped you liked the gifts i’ve been leaving in your locker… i don’t know if it’s too late for this, but i took you for granted okay? those sweet and genuine words of yours, your consideration for others, the way you care for everyone around you, your kind and gentle demeanour… i can’t help but have fallen in love with it all… especially that one time, those words you said in the tournament got me by, and i just couldn’t accept your love because i was such a jerk and was blind to your love. i want to love you like how you loved me.. i’m so sorry i didn’t treat you like the royalty you should’ve been treated like. i don’t expect you to forgive me after what i did, but will you give me a chance to make it up to you..?” he asks with genuine remorse and regret. he looks you in the eyes with glossy tears threatening to fall down.

you see that he has also attempted to mend the red thread by retying it into a cute bow to try and rekindle what once was. you let out a small smile before you respond.

“maybe i’ll give it another go”

______________________________________

you wake up. was it just a dream? is he really not yours? was it too good to be true?

you look around your room and… ah yes, you see your husband, nishinoya, beside you snoring and sleeping… not so gracefully. but regardless of that, he’s yours, you’re his, and beside your shared bed, resides the crib holding your twin infants, a result of the love you two shared. it seems that the dream was a memory of how it all started.

slowly, your husband stirs awake.

“my love? you’re up early” noya stretches his limbs from his slumber and following that, your children start to yawn and stretch out. he reaches for your hands as your fingers intertwine with his, the red string glowing stronger than ever. you smile gently as you plant a short but loving kiss on his soft lips. you then speak up.

“remember how we first met?”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuuxreader #nishinoya #nishinoya x you #nishinoya x y/n #nishinoya x reader #hq nishinoya #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yu x reader #yu nishinoya #yuu nishinoya #karasuno #karasuno x reader #hq fluff #hq angst

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iliaclwrites · 2 years

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can we have eddie with the librarian reader ? just more of that ?? they;re so cute kjdngkjdngkjdfh maybe them playing dnd? or origin stuff?

idk why yall love cheerleader! so much when librarian!lotr nerd! is literally right there

"...and this is us in our freshman year," you said, as Dustin, Mike and Lucas pored over the dusty school yearbook. Your freshman face beams up at you, Eddie Munson's fingers sticking up behind your head as bunny ears.

"Wow," Mike breathed, looking down at the club page. "You both look so... young." He peered up at you, and then down at the page. "Which one's your brother?"

You pointed at the tall boy in the middle, proudly holding a large figure of a dragon. "That's him. He'd been running Hellfire for two years before Eddie and I joined in as freshman. We both subbed, though, from time to time."

"That you, too?" Dustin asked, pointing to another photo on the club page. It was a picture of all of you mid-session, you and Eddie huddled in a corner as you debated something as the rest of the group were rolling, reading, or listening. "You look so different."

You hummed. Eddie's buzzcut was starting to grow out at this phase, and you had your long hair braided back, both of your mouths open in conversation to reveal your braces. Eddie hadn't found his style yet, his summer camp t-shirt too small on his lanky body, but underneath the table you knew he was wearing the combat boots he'd found at the army surplus.

"Are there any more?" Lucas asked, and you nodded, biting your lip as you pulled out another yearbook and flipped to the club pages. "Oh, wow. That's Eddie."

This was your junior year. You'd started to grow into yourselves now, recognisable as the people you were today. You were also wearing Hellfire shirts in this photo, unlike the rest of them, a result of Eddie ascending to the president of the club. You were piggybacking him in the picture, hands out in a peace sign, and his tongue wagging at the camera.

"This was the year we started dating," you murmured, smiling at the picture fondly. "Eddie begged me at -- wait," you took the book from Mike, flipping toward the prom spread near the front. "Here."

The picture was of the prom king and queen spinning around in a dance, but behind them there was a couple, mid-dip in the song. Your head was thrown back laughing, and his grip was hot against your back. "They were playing--"

"Twist and Shout, by the Beatles," Eddie said, coming to rest his elbows on the back of your chair. "Going through my dirty laundry, Tinuviel?"

"Laundry day is Wednesday, Eds," you said, kissing the back of his hand. "You gonna help out this time?"

"My woman wounds me," he said, leaning against the table. "I always help out with the laundry."

The bell rang, and you looked over at the kids. "Go on," you said, gesturing toward the door with your chin. "You don't wanna be late, do you? I'll see you at Hellfire after."

You watched them scramble for the door, and leaned your head against Eddie's thigh. "I forgot how cute you were," you murmured, turning back to the picture of the two of you. "You nearly choked to death when you saw me in my dress."

He smirked, running his finger over the glossy pages. "You nearly punched me in the face mid-dance." He hauled you to your feet, and pulled you in close. "Oh, shake it shake it shake it up, baby now," he mumbled, and you giggled, letting him spin you under one arm. "Shake it up, baby."

"You're a softy, Eds," you mumble, strategically weaving behind a bookcase. "I love you."

He winked. "Right back at you, Tinuviel."

#eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x librarian

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flyingspicerack · 1 year

Text

Inside Job Pt2Ep3 Myc Analysis Pt1

ALRIGHT FUCKERS! AS THE OFFICAL CEO OF MYC ITS TIME i GIVE YOU MY BREAKDOWN ON EP 3 BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE WILL!!!!!

THIS IS GONNA BE A BIGGUN AND PRETTY MUCH A PLAY BY PLAY SO STRAP IN!!!

The way he's clinging to the rope here? Oh so cute. But also! Very telling of how he's able to distribute his weight? Body and tendrils seem much like.... idk squid/octopus like? Also in this scene, all of the insults he throws around <3 He's such a catty little bitch I also love that Gigi is the one he doesn't insult the most through the ep? Like I know everyone is like OMG ANDRE AND MYC are such good 'friends' and all that (yes i am one of those too) but we see in pt1 that Myc and Gigi hang out a fair bit and I like to think he's got like, a respect for her? Idk

The fucking way the little itty bitty orb inside his orb gets smaller when the flashlight from the security guard hits him is so brief but oh so important to me, oh my GOD this little bit of detail has me HGFUIEOHGFOI:SGHJIO

HHHHH OK FIRSTLY! Reagan tells Myc to, and I quote "Spurt on that guy!" And he refers to himself as a soft serve machine that needs to warm up and cannot just jizz on command, which definitely makes sense. He also says for no one to look at him so.... hes shy

SO THAT leads me to believe, that his jiss doesn't actually need to be processed at all to become the stuff they put in the memory erasing guns, so, they can just erase minds... SO what does that mean for sex with humans, as well as that one time Andre licked Myc's flagella on the yacht during the wedding, he didn't get erased.... thoughts thoughts thoughts

REAGAN YELLING AT HIM AND CALLING HIM A WASTE OF SPACE FUCKING HURT ME

OH MY GOD BABY! NO DONT CRY!!!!!!! UAOGH WHAT THE FUCK

Reagan: Okay I was not ready for that" ME NEITHER BITCH????? MYC CRYING????? WHY WOULD HE CRY????

WAS ANISE RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING IN THAT MYC IS ACTUALLY A DWEEB???? UH YEAH?????? IM AS SURPRISED AS YALL ARE

god ok you guys im never gonna stop talking about this, we got so much mushroom lore, we have so much mushroom plot, we have so much MYC LORE AND I AM HERE FOR IT!!!!! AND IM WRITING IT ALL DOWN IN ONE PLACE!! RIGHT HERE!!!

Myc LIED about how old he was prior to this. In Pt1Ep3 we see his RightSwipe profile says 4041 for his age, but this here is his 5000 year reunion, so he's says he's younger than he really is.

He's from "A million year old mushroom hive cluster from the center of the earth" MILLION!!!!!! HES OLDER THAN WE CAN EVEN COMPREHEND

FIRST he apparently lied and said that everyone was jealous of his "huge dong" and he left, THEN JUST IN THIS SCENE, he says that they kicked him out because he was too much of a rebel, AND THEN AT THE END OF HIS RANT he finally comes clean and says that he never went to prom, graduation, AND no one signed his yearbook BECAUSE HE WAS A FUCKING DWEEB THAT LOOKED LIKE THIS:

(yeah honey i'd hate you too)

he was .... a fucking DWEEB! HE WAS A NERD!! THE BRACES?! THE PIMPLES! THE.... somehow.... FACIAL HAIR?? The hat.. yeesh boy ouch

WHEN HE LEFT HE WANTED TO PROVE HE COULD BE SOMEBODY! oH MY LORD!!!! HE CALLS HIMSELF A SINGLE MIDDLE AGED LOSER.... HOW OLD IS HE IF HES MIDDLE AGED IM GOING INSANE OVER HERE!!!!!!!!!

also his name, can we take about the name we have a real full name for him its not Magic Myc, its fucking MYC CELLIUM im going feral here and frothing

This uh.... this makes me..... hes so.... PATHETIC!! He's crying!!! HES FUCKING WHIMPERING AND CRYING AND SNIFLING CAUSE HES SO ASHAMED ABOUT GOING TO HIS REUNION LIKE WHAT THE FUCK HES LITERALLY BABYGIRL I DONT UNDERSTAND???????????????????

why are you so moe? WHY ARE YOU THE CUTEST GUY EVER! HIS GASP! Also like, Reagan, you REALLLY think this dude is never gonna insult you again? I thought you were a super genius? How can you literally be this stupid.

SORTA MUCUS SORTA JIZZ CALLED JUCUS!!!!!!!

I think it is SO AMAZING that the hole down to the mushroom hive is in Oregon, cause like, the worlds biggest mycelium network is under there.... hehe

FRUITY FLAILING ASS BITCH!!

OK If you go to 4:40 and look in the bg, you can see Myc get on the elevator down and he is fucking TREMBLING!! HE is SO nervous!! IM FUCK NGKJENSfewtgfwsg

Myc confirmed leftist, so thats a W but an L for thinking u can ge a nobel prize in podcasting... then again hes a mushroom and doesnt care so he is always a W in my heart

Look how far his flagella can stretch

HOLLOW EARTH! OH ITS SO LOVELY! AND I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT IT

I am very curious to know, if when Myc tells the hive to put a 'psychic metaphor' over the place, is that... only for the characters in the show or is it also for the viewer? It has to be, because we are also human and therefore wouldn't be able to comprehend the societal differences of mushroom dynamics! RIGHT?! SO I will also touch upon things as they happen later with this mindset.

FUCK!! RIGHT HERE!! Myc's asking Reagan if his BREATH smells bad!!!! He touches the top little frills and then puts his tentacle under Reagan's nose!! Does he... His scent glands?? WHAT?? AHHHHH I DONT KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS???

... I got one thing to say about stem-mantha... myc sure does love pink bitches .... makes eye contact with anise

LOOK AT HIM ALL.... NERVOUS!

Okay so then... Stem-Mantha asks if Myc was the guy who did puzzles with her parents so she could go have sex... SO, yes, the fucking mushrooms DO fuck each other, AND they have like, parents They dont just grow?? (As seen from Myc wanting to be a mommy in Pt2Ep7)

THEN Myc gets fucking pelted with a goddamn football and we are now included on the information that Myc ran out at graduation before everyone merged consciousnesses and became assimilated. SO It is OH SO interesting to see that each of these mushroom clusters are there OWN individual personalities but THEN they all are joined and have a shared consciousness thats a part of the hive!

Stem-Mantha then asks if the gang are Myc's parole officers, so does that mean that everyone was under the impression he went to like, jail topside after he left hollow earth??

HIS TENDRIL HEART IM FUCKING LOSING IT AHHHHHHH

ALRIGHT!!! FUCKERS FIRSt things first. Yes he wore that stupid fucking "NO FAT CHIX" hat but are we talking about it? NO, well YES, in that he wore it because he was in denail thats it thats the story thank you very much

SECONDLY here is were I'm touching upon the psychic metaphor thing again right here. I am thinking waaaay too deeply about a silly little cartoon and i feel very much like 'charlie pepe silvia meme' right now in idk how meta this whole thing is supposed to be? Like I don't think Myc was actually into dragon ball Z considering it was 5000 years ago and dbz didn't exist then, and we're just supposed to believe dudes was the mushroom equivalent of a little itty bitty pathetic nerd with pimples and acne, right??

but im also crazy coo coo bananas insane in thinkiing how fucking funny would it be if dbz was some kind of true space epic and myc is like, the equivalent of a greek mythology nerd in that hes a little fanboy.

THIRDLY. MY MANS GOT EXTRA STRONG POWERS THAT MAKE HIM EXTRA SENSITIVE?????? HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NURSE

His fucking signature babygirl i loooove you its so cute what the FUCK!! and look at how he carried himself like a fucking .... beanie babie, hes full of beans or whatever, i just love how this fucker carries his weight its so cool to look at wtf

HES NERVOUS AGAIN IM JUST GFJHEL"GSGJ"LG I KNOW ITS NOT IMPORTANT BUT IT IS TO ME

They are SO fucking mean to him. But also this scene, you can see that not everyone is on board with Reagan doing this, like they're all really uncomfortable when she pulls this picture up, and Brett isn't even there

Why is there so much jucus... was he tearing up about getting found out? OH LAWDY I HOPE NOT ILL FUCKING CRY?????

HAHHA SO this post has gotten waaay too long so i think i'm gonna make it two parts, so part 2 will be post assimilation!!! Also because posts can only have 30 images and we at the max babes

#inside job #myc #magic myc #myc cellium #character analysis #inside job netflix #reagan ridley #brett hand #andre lee #gigi thompson #glenn dolphman #i am the self assigned ceo of myc so this is all law you have to listen to me /hj #please read this ive been working on this for like almost a week now and its only half done #please like it omg #also hie shadow board if ur seeing this ily

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