#so someone replied and said okay and posted this LMAO

[chaiaurchaandni]

let him cook

[woundedheartwithin]

Something y’all need to know about me is, if I message you or tag you or send you an ask or comment or address you in the tags, I am NOT expecting an answer! Not ever, and I mean that. I will not get upset if you never reply to it, and this is for two reasons:

1. I know intimately how stressful and scary and exhausting notifications can be, especially when you’re not feeling so great mentally/physically/emotionally, and I will automatically assume this is the case if I don’t get a reply, even if I see you actively posting on my dash

2. I have already forgotten that I sent you something

[grishaverse-chaos]

pet peeve: when people interpret Alina's line from s2e8 as meaning Grisha won't wear keftas at all!

that isn't what she means, she means that Grisha orders won't be separated by wearing different colours, so there's less division within the Second Army!!

[reiderwriter]

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

[natailiatulls07]

Carlos Sainz x dcc!reader x Rebecca Donaldson

Summary - When the Dallas cowboys cheerleaders come to perform at a race, one blonde catches the eyes of a particular couple

A/n - First polyamorous fic!!

Masterlist

-

yourusername

back with my sisters on the field for the third year!

Liked by dccheerleaders and 237,843 others

username you are the cutest I luv you!!

= yourusername I luv you too girlie <3

username So deserving of this!

cheerleader1 sooo excited for another year together hun <3

Liked by yourusername

dccheerleaders great to have you back, can't wait to have your cookies every week ;)

= yourusername of course, always for you adminnn

username she is the americas sweetheart

kellifinglass good to have you back x

Liked by yourusername

f1

Thank you to these dc cheerleaders for their wonderful performance of thunderstruck at the Circuit of the Americas!

Tagged: dccheerleaders

Liked by carlossainz55 and 365,736 others

username my two worlds colliding

username I'm obsessed

yourusername thank you for having us!

= username the queen commented omggg

username I was there and it was just amazing, I want more

username Carlos was loving it lmao

= username oh 100%

f1gossip

Spotted: Carlos Sainz and girlfriend/model Rebecca Donaldson were seen partying after his second win of the season in Austin, Texas.

Tagged: carlossainz55 iamrebeccad

Liked by username and 98,763 others

username idk which one I would rather be

username a well deserved win!!

username I bet he's loving life rn with a race win and also a performance from the dcc ahah

username I heard that there was a blonde girl with them

= username probs a rumour, there's no picture evidance

= username fairrr

yourusername posted a story

(Caption: Nights out in Austinnn)

Twitter/X

username did everyone see Y/n's story??!

username YES my baby is finally dating againnnnnn username I'm soo happy for her, espercially after how her ex left her username omfg yeah she so deserves a happy ending username let's hope this guys treats her like royality

yourusername

dcc take on London!

Tagged: cheerleader1 cheerleader2 cheerleader3

Liked by iamrebeccad and 346,135 others

username I met you and you were the sweetesttt

= yourusername you were the cutest, I loved you hair girlie :33

username looking good girls!!

username Rebecca what you doing here??

cheerleader2 had the best time x

= yourusername same honestly we need to do it again omfg

username <333

f1gossip

Spotted: Carlos Sainz and partner/model Rebecca Donaldson was seen today in London during the summer break, they were asked why they were in London to which they replied with 'We're seeing someone...' So who are they seeing??

Tagged: carlossainz55 iamrebeccad

Liked by username and 102,628 others

username who tf are they seeing??!

username this is weird and unexpected omg

username umm okayyy?

username probs seeing Lando

= username oh that makes sense ahah

iamrebeccad

in London with the best people x

Liked by carlossainz55 and 364,725 others

username who's that blonde girl??

username the couple is looking hot omfg

username Rebecca when will we see you at a gp again?

carlossainz55 <333

Liked by iamrebeccad

username I miss the curly hairrrrr

alexandrasaintmleux wish I could be there xx

= iamrebeccad it's a special trip but missing you and Leo rn xx

Youtube - yourusername

Twitter/X

username Who the hell is Y/n in London with???!!!

username the dcc girls obv :/ username no mate, she said in her vlog that they left early username oh that's so fucking weird username CRAZY suggestion okay? Maybe she's with Carlos Sainz and his partner username now that's a new kind of delusion ahaha

carlossainz55

a few days in Dallas!

Tagged: iamrebeccad

Liked by yourusername and 564,633 others

username THE BLONDE GIRL AGAIN?!

username who is that????

iamrebeccad had the best time honestly

Liked by carlossainz55

username guys you know how someone said that 'blonde girl' is Y/n L/n...I think they might be onto something ??

= username yeah I think you might be right, everything makes sense...

username Carlos loves those cheerleaders omfg

Twitter/X

username so I think I can speak for everyone when I say that Carlos Sainz and Rebecca Donaldson are soft launching a new girlfriend who is also a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader!!!

username OMG you're so righttttt username all the sighs add up to it lmao username Like the cheerleaders at the race, then the blonde girl in the night club cause Y/n posted a story with dark hair guy who she took photos with (part.1) username And then she was in London and so was the couple, in the background of her grwm we could hear people talking and then to top it all off, they were in DALLAS username 100% soft launchinggggg

carlossainz55

Our cheerleader x

Tagged: yourusername iamrebeccad

Liked by cheerleader1 and 673,892 others

Limited comments

username I KNEW IT

username so happy for you guys <3

yourusername :33

Liked by carlossainz55 and iamrebeccad

iamrebeccad

Finally we get to show her off to the world ;)

Tagged: yourusername iamrebeccad

Liked by landonorris and 468,238 others

Limited comments

username hotest three people ever omggg

yourusername <333

Liked by iamrebeccad carlossainz55

cheerleader2 so happy for you guys x

-

[papayadays]

you’re doing it wrong

summary: lando x tennis player!reader - in which you’re fed up of your boyfriend playing padel - 1.7k words

a/n: as a tennis girly, pickleball and padel for me are triggers lol (i’m joking), but fr though, i love this! also i use a babolat pure aero if anyone was wondering (no one will, but whatever lmao)

warnings: none, just fluff

smau + real life

face claim: emma raducanu bc yes

y/nl/ntennis

y/nl/ntennis enjoying break, ready to be back in rome! 🧡 📸 landonorris

liked by wta, landonorris, and 7,138 others

big3stan so ready for rome open tbh, can’t wait for her to win!

liked by y/nl/ntennis

y/ntennis lmao not the evian ad

wtagirly ikr at least our girl’s making cash while playing piano

landonorris i feel neglected

y/nl/ntennis i was going to post you but then SOMEONE decided to play padel

gamesetace standing up for tennis 🙌 what a queen

papayagoals aww i love the orange heart for lando, y/n is  glowing!

liked by y/nl/ntennis

you stared at your boyfriend in disbelief. “since when did you want to start playing tennis?” you questioned with narrowed eyes, dubious.

“well,” lando started, scratching his neck. “mclaren saw your post, and then after the interview, they want to film a video of you and me playing tennis.” you rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“i knew you wouldn’t want to play voluntarily,” you scoffed. “you and your stupid padel. what’s next, pickleball?”

lando placed a hand over his heart. “wow, y/n, words hurt,” he pouted.

“truth hurts,” you deadpanned. “c’mon, why are playing everything except my favorite sport?” frowning, you gave him puppy eyes.

“ugh, fine,” lando sighed, caving like you knew he would. “i’ll try to enjoy it. you’re lucky i love you.” you clapped your hands together happily.

“then we need to pick out outfits!” you cheered, making lando groan. “oh shush, you dress all fancy for golf. hell, you even made a golf quadrant line.” that shut him up.

you picked out some of his golf clothes that were suitable for tennis, and then you changed into a nike set of a top and shorts since they were your sponsor. you tossed lando a hat and grabbed a visor after putting your hair up into your signature braid.

as you grinned in the mirror, lando leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. “i love you in your tennis outfits,” he smiled.

when your mouth curled up into a smirk, he realized his mistake. “well, if you played tennis with me more often, you’d get to see it more,” you responded.

“i set myself up for that one, didn’t i, love?” lando muttered, pecking your lips. you gave him an innocent shrug, as if you had no clue what he was talking about.

“anyways,” you said, grabbing your babolat bag and tying your nike sneakers. “let’s go. don’t want to keep mclaren waiting.”

«⁂»

when you arrived at the courts, you beamed at the filming crew. “wow, i love these courts, mclaren chose well,” you gushed.

“thanks,” the cameraman nodded. “i’m luke, and that’s bill.” you nodded at them, shaking their hands. after, they turned on the camera, not wanting to miss a single moment.

“it’s a lovely day,” you smiled. “perfect conditions, nice hard courts, what more can you ask for?”

lando snorted. “barely five minutes in and y/n has already started geeking out,” he commented, facing the camera.

“as if you wouldn’t geek out if someone mentions f1,” you retorted, playfully swatting his arm as you took out your racquet, a babolat pure aero. you handed your boyfriend one of your many racquets as he scrunched his nose up in disdain.

“do i have to use the same as yours?” lando frowned, making you roll your eyes.

“yes, your majesty,” you replied sarcastically. “it’s the only model i have because that’s how tennis works.”

“damn, no need to come at me, sweetheart,” lando responded evenly, a sweet smile on his face. you scoffed, a smile faintly on your lips. he knew that you couldn’t stay mad with that pet name.

“okay, so let’s warm up first,” you explained to the camera. “i do some jumping jacks, high knees, side shuffles, karaoke step, and some footwork drills as well as stretching out my upper body.” you pointed at lando. “follow what i do.”

“yeah, yeah, boss me around, why don’t you,” he mumbled, but a mischievous grin stayed on his face.

first, you did some jumping jacks, high knees, and light cardio exercises. then, you turned around and faced the net as you side shuffled. “lando, c’mon,” you sighed as you turned back, seeing his gaze snap up to meet your eyes, a light blush tinged on his cheeks as he gave you a smug look, knowing damn well what he was doing. from one doubles sideline to the other, you two side shuffled before transitioning into karaoke step. “here, i’ll go slow, lan. follow me, and don’t fall.” you slowly stepped over, letting lando copy you before speeding up.

“how?” lando asked, shocked. “you don’t fall over?”

“tennis players need really good footwork,” you told him, stretching out your arms and back. “alright, i think we’re ready to start with half-court.” you picked up your racquet, grabbing a ball and bouncing it on the strings.

“wait,” lando said to luke. “can you pause real quick, mate?” you gave him a confused look as he leaned down towards you, eyes wide with anxiousness. “promise you won’t judge me or anything if i’m really bad.” then it all clicked for you.

“so that’s why you won’t play with me?” you asked, expression softening at his genuine fear.

“i- yeah,” lando nodded, seeing no point in denying it. “i know how much love tennis, but if i’m really bad, i dunno, i just thought that maybe you’ll see me differently.”

“aww, baby,” you cooed, resting your hand on your boyfriend’s cheek. “i’ll love you no matter what. you could be the worst tennis player in the world and i’d still love you. and you’ll do great. tennis is a hard sport, so obviously no one can get it on the first try. but i love you, lan. not how well you hit balls.” he raised an eyebrow at your wording, but leaned into your touch.

“thanks, y/n,” he smiled, pecking your lips. “i love you more.” he turned back to the camera crew only for his jaw to drop in utter shock. “you were recording the whole time?” your hand flew to your mouth, laughter erupting as you watched lando’s eyes widen in panic.

“babe, they- i can’t believe it,” you wheezed, clutching your stomach. “oh my god, this is amazing.”

“now the whole freaking world is going to know what just happened,” lando whispered, glaring at your laughter. “whatever, let’s just play.”

you showed lando the basics: forehand, backhand, and the motions, guiding him through it. his cheeks were pink from your constant grip on his arm, showing him the swing. soon, he was able to get the tennis balls over the net. “that’s it, lan!” you cheered as he hit another one over. “now we can rally.”

you walked to the other side, gently feeding a half court forehand. you watched as he hit it back, a proud smile on your face as you hit a backhand, careful not to put spin on it. “hey, i think i got the hang of this,” lando grinned before promptly hitting the ball into the net. “dammit, i jinxed it.”

“don’t worry,” you smiled. “let’s go full court now.” the two of you hit a few, lando picking the skills up very quickly. you showed him your serve and decided to use more force, smirking as the ball sailed past him.

while you two took a water break, luke and bill told you that mclaren had also gotten a ball machine, making your face brighten. “really?” you exclaimed. “that’s perfect!”

you brought the machine out, setting it up before you stood on the opposite side of the net, bouncing on your toes. it fed out balls as you hit them with your full match-level power, lando’s eyes widening at the speed. after the machine ran out of balls, you headed back to them, wiping the sweat of your face with a sweatband.

“babe, that was incredible,” lando told you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “how do you hit it so fast?”

“training,” you deadpanned. “now, you think you had enough for today?” lando gave you a nod.

“yeah, today was nice, as much as i hate- ow! i mean, as much as i love to admit that you’re right, tennis was actually pretty cool,” he answered, rubbing the spot on his ribs where you had elbowed him. “maybe we’ll have to play again sometime soon.” your mouth stretched into a victorious grin as you turned to the camera.

“you heard it right here, everyone,” you said with a smug expression. “lando norris is a tennis fan now. thanks to mclaren for doing this, and hopefully see you next time!”

“that’s a wrap!” bill nodded as you started packing your things up.

“thanks for giving it a try,” you beamed at lando. “it means a lot.”

“you’re welcome,” lando replied with a cheeky grin. “also, i’ve decided. i’m going to watch you in rome. i mean, i’ll be in imola for the race anyways, so i can be there.” your face brightened.

“you mean it?” when he nodded, you pumped your fist. “it’s been so long since you’ve come to one of my matches. ooh, i need to introduce you to everyone. thanks, lan.” you slipped your hand in his, smiling as you walked back

y/nl/ntennis

y/nl/ntennis we did it!! landonorris has been converted into a tennis fan 💞 new mclaren video spilling the details 🤭

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 9,625 others

landonorris yeah yeah 💖💖

lanpastry pls they’re so cute 🤧

mclaren thank you for the content! 🧡

y/nfan OMG THE VIDEO GUYS, IT’S TOO CUTE

papayaorange that sweet moment was too much, i’m sleeping on the highway tonight

formulerone and not lando getting exposed by mclaren - “you were recording the whole time?”

landynando lando actually playing tennis was not on my bingo card

forzafans NOT THE LAST PIC HELP 💀

wimbledumb REAL LIKE BRO TOOK THE PADEL PERSONALLY

wta  new tennis power couple?

novakthegoat wta what are you doing here 😭😭

y/nl/ntennis lmao i wish, alex and katie would have nothing on us

katiecboulter oh really? are you sure about that?

cocogauff aww cute 😍

landonorris help y/n i don’t know anyone

y/nl/ntennis oh my god do you not watch tennis at all?

landonorris no? who do you think i am? i only watch your matches 🫶

y/nl/ntennis baby steps ig ily lan 🧡

[writingstoraes]

paddock greetings 💌

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: not proofread and not revised so please expect errors hehehe please lmk what u think by replying or messaging and if u wanna be part of my taglist! <3 this is a bit long! hehe

about: for your 5th anniversary and engagement, the drivers send their greetings with a bit of banter in the comments as always.

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, and 1,560,431 others

lewishamilton Greeting this two a happy 5-year anniversary and wishing them the best as they take another massive and wonderful step in their life! Best wishes to the best couple I know ❤️

charles_leclerc Thank you, mate! Also huge thanks for setting me up with her, wouldn't be here without you 😅

lewishamilton Well you wouldn't stop asking about her so I gave in 🤷‍♂️

charlesrari LMAOOO SIR LEWIS AIRING OUT CHARLES' BUSINESS LIKE THAT

yourusername thank you, lew! wow imagine if i never went on that blind date...

pierregasly I think you would have found someone better

charles_leclerc You have one minute before I pay a visit to your room.

pierregasly

liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe, yourusername, and 506,771 others

pierregasly Congratulations on the engagement of the two craziest people I know 🥂 Pls stop asking me to take cheesy pictures of you guys sometimes what you do in front of me is unacceptable. I still remember being behind the camera when I took you guys' infamous yacht shots 😮‍💨

yourusername not you saying we're improper im literally the third wheel when you and charles are together???

pierregasly Y/N you took Charles away from me can you blame me

charles_leclerc Pierre what

pierregasly Are you choosing your wife over me? Wow okay that hurts mate

danielricciardo

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, arthurleclerc, and 905,660 others

danielricciardo Some outtakes from my camera of Y/N and Charles. This was the first time Charles took Y/N on a trip with us and they honestly just bring out the best in each other. No better day to post this than now. Congratulations on the engagement, you two! 🎉 Wishing you live a life filled with love and happiness.

yourusername DANIEL WTH this is so pretty :(( these pictures are a blessing, thank you danny 🤍

charles_leclerc Thank you, Daniel! And thank you for my new wallpaper hahaha

carlossainz55 You're replacing me already?

charles_leclerc Mate you were never my wallpaper

pierregasly Don't even bother Carlos he's a married man now

yourusername what i have to deal with every day...

landonorris

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, and 432,679 others

landonorris Congratulations on the engagement Y/N and Charles! I want to let you know that I am utterly disgusted by the two of you please stop flirting in front of me ❤️

yourusername you greeted us but at what cost

charles_leclerc ... Thanks???

ferrarifan3 Lando greeting like a true friend we love to see it

charloslove LMAO I KNEW LANDO WOULD HAVE THE FUNNIEST GREETING

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, isahernaez, and 860,560 others

carlossainz55 Love you both to bits but honestly third-wheeling with you guys has got to be one of the worst experiences ever. "It'll be fun, Carlos," but then they'd leave me in the middle of the road - this happened in Madrid by the way and I will never live it down. Happy engagement, Charles and Y/N 😁

charles_leclerc Carlos we did not leave you we just bought food

carlossainz55 You were gone for 30 minutes?

charles_leclerc The taco line was long you said you wanted tacos!

myferrarimen this banter is what i live for honestly

yourusername why were u in the middle of the road anyway

carlossainz55 I dont remember 🤷‍♂️

charles16 how carlos doesnt get lost on a daily basis is a mystery to me

pierregasly Lmaooo they left you

yukibabie "I will never live it down" king of grudges

---------

tagging: @slytherheign <33 hope ur video recording for class went well mwah

notes: thought this was a rlly cute idea and my classes start on monday so its a bummer :// my masterlist is up and running so u can navigate thru my works on my pinned post! lmk what u guys think <33

[charliemwrites]

Okay, Alejandro time!!

(He’s a keeper but not via kidnapping. Still a deranged arrangement tho lmao)

You’d been a hostage - a tourist or just a casualty of narcos, it doesn’t matter. The men said all kinds of awful things while you shivered in the corner, tired with ropes that would leave scars.

It all happened so suddenly. You had no warning, no instinctive sense that something was going to happen. One second it was all half-drunk men playing cards and watching football - the next there was a metallic clank and the world went bright and loud.

Alejandro is the one to get you out himself, cutting so carefully through the binds. He helps you up on shaky feet, makes a furious expression at the state of you. You can’t hear what he says over the ringing in your ears and the distant cacophony.

He gets you outside, sits you in the passenger side of a big black jeep. You shiver and shake, wide-eyed. When he tries to move away you cling, begging him not to leave you, please please.

He shouts something to his men, then turns back to you. Gives you a once over. This time you can hear him cursing under his breath when he sees the damage to your bare feet. Another soldier brings a blanket that you’re quickly swaddled in.

You meet Alejandro. He takes you back to base, his sergeant riding in the backseat and trying to get your information. You give him what you can, glancing at Alejandro every now and then for reassurance.

He’s your savior, your angel.

On his base, you Velcro yourself to him, heart pounding when anyone else gets too near. He coddles you through the medics, through a debrief with his men, through a brutal punch to one of your arrested captors saying something nasty.

You shouldn’t be filled with warmth at the show of violence. But that it’s on your behalf means the world.

“Why are you letting me do this?” You ask, guilty as he leads you around for training drills.

“Because you need me, no?” he replies.

You do. “What… what if I never stop needing you?”

He hums as he considers that, head tipping side to side.

“Maybe you won’t. I will still let you be here by my side.”

And he makes good on it. As you heal, as you reunite with your family, as you settle into a post-trauma life, Alejandro lets you cling.

More than cling, he cares for you. Coddles you, just like he did that first night. Always hands you food first, and gives you extras from his plate if you still see hungry. tucks you into bed and gets you up in the mornings. Gives you little tasks for Los Vaqueros to keep you busy and keep you from feeling too guilty.

He starts calling for you by nicknames and you’re all too happy to perk up at “princess” or “kitten” or “cookie” exclusively. He starts pressing kisses to your temples, hugging you around the middle from behind while talking to his soldiers.

And because you’re always with him, you end up at a bar one night too. It’s loud, but the base gets loud too sometimes, so you don’t mind. What you do mind is someone making a pass at you after being told no - twice.

You stumble away, yelping for Ale and you all nearly get thrown out of the bar for the hell he unleashes. The night doesn’t last long after that and you apologize for ruining everything, trying to hold back tears. He shakes his head and bundles you in close.

“No, listen. I take care of what’s mine, yeah?”

“And… and I’m yours?” you ask hopefully.

“Yes, love.”

You nuzzle into him all the way back to base. Then spend the night in his room - not for the first time, though this instance is much… steamier than usual.

Ale is a romantic through and through. He takes you apart piece by piece with such care, whispering words of adoration into every inch of skin. He’s a proud man too, has to come twice before sinking into you with a sinful roll of his hips, hair falling around his face as he moans above you.

The next morning, he sees you in his shirt and has you for breakfast at the kitchen table. You follow him around that day with pretty hickies everywhere and his deodorant on your skin. He promises that you can move into his on-base apartment whenever you want.

Rudy helps the two of you the next day.

Still, you know he loves you. You know what kind of man he is. Good and brave and fierce. Loyal the way poets write. He would never stray… but you wish you had reassurance that you belong to him, and him you.

You get a bracelet that only he can take on and off, his name engraved proudly in the metal. He keeps the key with his dog tags. It feels right; you feel possessed. He gets this dark glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes when he sees you thumbing at his name.

A matching bracelet peeks beneath his sleeve when he raises his hand to call his soldiers’ attention. You keep the key on a necklace in the hollow of your throat on proud display.

When Valeria makes a snide comment about it upon meeting, you tilt your head at her.

“You seem like a very unhappy person.” And flounce off.

Alejandro laughs raucously about it still hours later, praising you while you sit in his lap and sip his beer.

[secret-sturniolo]

stay - chris sturniolo

summary - based on the prompt "stay with me tonight, please." where chris comforts y/n after she gets hate

warnings - hate comments, lil angsty

a/n - this one is kinda short but i like it so hopefully you guys do too

why is y/n here again?

i get the feeling y/n is using the triplets for clout

i thought we made it clear nobody likes y/n

lmao y/n really thinks she has a chance with chris who's gonna tell her

The comments came flooding in on the new car video the triplets posted, where I joined them as a special guest. It wasn't the first time I had gotten hate for being friends with them, but usually I was able to ignore it as there wasn't very much of it. But this time, I couldn't just ignore it when the majority of the comments were mean ones about me. Overwhelmed with sadness and anxiety, I stood up from the couch as I announced that I was going to head back to my place.

"Are you sure? Is everything okay?" Nick asked me.

"Yeah, I just don't feel good all of a sudden." I replied.

Nick and Chris shared a glance before looking back at me.

"I can get Matt to drive you home if you want?" Chris asked me.

"No, no, don't worry about it. I'll text you guys later, okay?"

I made my way out the door and into my car. I waited until I had pulled out of the driveway, but then the tears started rolling down my cheeks. Am I really that bad? I thought. It was only about a five minute drive back to my apartment thankfully. Ignoring the smeared makeup I could see in the mirror, I went straight to my bedroom and laid down, staring at the ceiling. I tried not to, but I picked up my phone and started reading more of the hateful comments directed at me. My promise to text the boys when I had gotten home was long forgotten as the sadness took hold of me, and I fell asleep, tired from crying.

Chris's POV

I thought it was strange how y/n suddenly decided to leave. It was very unlike her, and she didn't even give a good reason, simply saying she didn't feel good. I tried not to worry about her too much, but as time went on I just couldn't shake the feeling.

Our new video had been up for a while now, so Matt, Nick and I decided to check YouTube to see how it was doing and if people liked it. Right off the bat, we could see that it already had more views than we normally get, which at first glance seemed like a good thing. I watched as Nick's eyes widened at the computer screen, mouth hanging open. I grabbed the laptop to see for myself what made him so shocked. Scrolling through the comments, almost every one was about y/n. My expression quickly changed to match Nick's as I read through them.

"Dude, do you see these? They're all about y/n, and they're terrible!" I said, showing Matt the screen.

it's so obvious that she likes chris. im embarrassed for her

do people actually like y/n?

why would they hang out with a girl like y/n? shes not even that pretty

My heart dropped as I finally realized why y/n "wasn't feeling good".

"Matt, you have to drive me to y/n's place, right now." I said urgently.

Matt seemed to understand instantly. "Okay, I'll go start the car."

When we got to her apartment, I told Matt he could go back home and I would call him if I needed a ride. I grabbed the spare key from my pocket as I unlocked her door. There was no sign of y/n in the kitchen or living room, so I made my way to her bedroom. I softly knocked on the door, but there was no answer, so I slowly opened it. My heart broke when I saw her curled up on top of her covers, dried mascara on her white pillows. Without even thinking, I moved to her bed, and gently laid down next to her, pulling her into my chest.

Y/n's POV

I felt someone wrap their arms around me, and for a moment it startled me as I opened my eyes, but when I realized who it was, I snuggled deeper into his chest as I began crying again.

"Shh, it's okay. I got you." he said gently.

We just laid like that, with my head in his chest until finally he spoke again.

"I'm so sorry I didn't realize sooner."

"Am I really that bad, Chris?" I asked, sniffling.

"Absolutely not, y/n. Those people are just morons who aren't happy with themselves so they like to pick on other people. I know they upset you, but that's exactly what they wanted to happen. You can't give them what they want."

I let his words sink in for a moment. "So you read the comments?"

"Yeah, and they're wrong by the way, about everything." he said, looking into my eyes.

I realized what he was saying, but I was too tired to bring it up right now.

"Stay with me tonight, please?" I asked him.

"Of course. Let's get you under the blankets though, it's getting cold."

I giggled as he lifted me up to pull the blankets out from under me. I rolled over, and he pulled my back into his chest, as we matched each other's breathing. I sighed contently as he gently played with my hair sending tingles down my spine.

Just as I was falling asleep, I felt his breath as he whispered against my neck.

"I love you, y/n"

[hackedmotionsensors]

lol i've complained about this a fair amount on twitter but I got a comment last night? that made me think about this again.

And its ...getting weird comments that I cannot tell if they're being RUDE or there's a language barrier or some combination of both.

I finished a standee art last night and posted it and this morning I get a reply from someone who's replied very confusingly before...."You're tired and need to go to sleep"

Which LMAO wasn't entirely untrue but that was the whole comment on the art.

Not to put this person on blast and obviously do not go bother them if you know where the comment is at.....

But like what the hell does that mean? I F E E L like this is a translation error or a miscommunication. But thats the ENTIRE problem. THAT IS THE ENTIRE PROBLEM. I'm tired of getting comments that are CONFUSING to me AT BEST...and more often just fucking rude.

Like....its weird. Bc i've been on the internet for close to 3 decades now??? Lol I'm so old. But.....I've been more confused in the past year or so with how people talk to perfect strangers on the internet. I think it might be a generational thing but like LMAO ARE THE "KIDS THESE DAYS" just ......fucking RUDE??? Like I've heard pre-teens and teens talk to each other and its pretty mean but so were a lot of kids when I was a teen. So maybe its a language barrier there.

But I feel like....because everyone is so comfortable talking to perfect strangers on the internet, and getting EXTREMELY overly close? or thinking they have the right to speak to people as if we're super besties (which in turn means saying a rude backhanded compliment thats intended to be nice but just sounds mean??)...its just....so common lately for me to just be like "Why the fuck would you say this to me?"

I'm not your friend. I'm just a random artist online that draws from a fandom you probably like (or hate? Idk your life lol)

I think this whole thing STARTED with Japanese and Korean artists (and probably lots of other languages that aren't English) begging people to stop leaving horrible reaction images or people saying "I'M GONNA K*LL YOU!!!!! THIS IS DEVASTATING!!!! I'M DEAD!!!!" and the poor artist being like...okay well this is a thing I have to live with now.

And I thought we DID move past that but I feel like its back just without the reaction images bc Gen Alpha and Z thinks reaction images are cringe LMAO (small blessings)

But ....I forget which drawing I did.....It was something sad. I think it was a sad zosan?? And this person LITERALLY said they were going to hunt me down. And that wasn't the initial comment. They said something equally as rude and when I asked for clarification for what they meant they were like " I'M GONNA FIND OUT WHERE YOU LIVE"

GIRL ITS FANART OF ZORO AND SANJI!?!?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN

Again. I've talked about this til I'm blue in the face (fingers?? since its typing??) about this on twitter. And I've been sitting on this comment for nearly 24 hrs just....fucking confused. And I hate this ....confusion. Bc In My Day(tm) .....lol I didn't like mean comments then either but it was usually some asshole in my tumblr mail being like "YOU FUCKIN SUCK!!" lol

I might just be too stupid to interpret these quirky little comments but like

guys please if you like something. Just be normal and say "omg I love this" or like a cute reaction that is APPROPRIATE to the situation lol Don't demand things from me when I'm already giving you something that I'm doing in my free time for fun. Lol And stop asking me if there's a fic for comics or art that i TELL you came from me asdfasdfa I don't know where the fic is. I'd like to know too. (but also if I draw from a fic I link to the fic but I've decided to stop that for the time being. Any comics coming from me will be mine wholecloth for the foreseeable future)

[halucynator]

Hi Lucy! I just had the worst nightmare of my life. I had a dream where I had stage 2 leukemia and I was wondering if you could do a FIC for Theodore comforting g reading after a nightmare?

Dirty dreams

Pairing: Theodore Nott x gn!reader (idk if that's what you meant by g reader but I'm assuming you did)

I know you really wanted a long one, but I'm so sorry! I really didn't know how to lengthen it without making it a drag x hope it's to your liking I swear swear swear I'll make the other ones long!!, I kinda lost inspo as well lmao 💖

Warnings: like mentions of sexual stuff ig (literally one like when I say dirty dreams) lmk if there are any more

Summary: Reader has a nightmare and Theodore is ready with cuddles.

A/n: first of all, I'm really sorry this happened to you 💕 nightmares honestly suck xx hope this makes you feel better <3

Reader has past with cancer (they don't but someone close to them does) bc I thought it would make it more terrifying.

You woke up with a start. You looked around your dorm room, your body drenched in sweat. Wow. That was one vivid dream. Or nightmare. Your breathing was heavy. The demon that was cancer still haunted your dreams to this day.

"Hey babe, are you okay?" Theo said as he rubbed his eyes. You forgot he was there and jumped at the sudden voice.

"Oh uh yeah. Just had a nightmare." You replied, your breathing more stable.

"What about?" Theo asked as he sat up in bed and shuffled closer to you.

"Nothing. Just... I had stage 2 leukemia." You almost whispered.

"Oh! I'm so sorry." He replied.

"It's not your fault." You said.

"No I know. But, you know with your sister almost dying because of it I can understand how terrifying it must've been." He answered.

Your face dropped. The memories flooded back. You witnessed it happening. It scared you to death.

"sorry... I shouldn't bring it up." He apologized quickly.

"No it's fine!" You replied reassuringly smiling at him.

Your breathing became heavy again as the nightmares came back in flashes.

Theodore pulled your closer and wrapped you in a hug.

"Shh... It's okay. It's not real." He replied comfortingly.

Tears began clouding your eyes. That awfully realistic dream mixed with the awful memories was the worst combination to say the least. You breathed in.

"Do you want me to read to you?" He asked knowing reading always calmed you down.

You slowly nodded.

He got a book and started narrating it to you. It made you burst out in laughter whenever he made a sarcastic comment on the book.

Slowly, you began to calm down. Your heartbeat slowed. You took deep breaths. One of theo's hands was holding the book as the other caressed your hair. You calmed down at his touch.

You snuggled closer to him till your face was on the crook of his neck. As you breathed in the smell of Theo's signature cologne as well as peppermint and lilacs you felt a wave of serenity wash over you.

Your eyes grew heavy as Theo's narrative flooded your brain. Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep with your head on Theo's shoulder.

After that, you didn't have any nightmares. All you had were dreams. Dirty dreams. Filled with images of a certain chestnut haired boy.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

Tagging @annaisabookworm bc of their post asking to be tagged in all Theo and Mattheo fics <3

[jadeittic]

HS + Y/I: 2022 (SERIES)

EXTRA (8) -- mb i keep procrastinating i swear its not my fault (it is) LMAO

PREVIOUS. NEXT.

HARRY STYLES + PLATONIC!EX-1D MEMBER!FEM!READER

WARNINGS: will be changing face claims for every post ! hope it won't be a bother.

yourinstagram

liked by bellaramsey, anyataylorjoy, bigbaldhead, and 1,324,584 others

yourinstagram perth, get ready.

view all 212,134 comments

username THE AMOUNT OF HARRY CONTENT IS MAKING ME 😫

username o h my god i get to be the first people to hear hs + y/i as the aoty

username DELETE THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO HADNLE

harrystyles We praise the people who get drunk the night before anything.

yourinstagram i'm literally going to die from alcohol poisoning because of you

harrystyles Yeah well it's not my fault you keep tagging along with me

yourinstagram SHUT UUUP i only tag along because you cry like a baby if i say no

username the bickering even through texts 😭😭

username LMFAO

username yn can i bring pizza to the show please 🙏

yourinstagram YES PLEASE i deserve a snack from time to time because SOMEONE refuses to let me

username we dont even need namedropping atp we all knowwww who it is

harrystyles WHAT DID I DO?!

username YNRRY IN AUSTRALIAAA EHFSGSEGGSEF

username the amount of adrenaline in me i cant even go to sleep

ynrryupdates

liked by username, and 12,329 others

ynrry YNRRY spotted walking around tourist shops in Perth, Australia just this afternoon. Are we all ready for the show tomorrow night?

view all 390 comments

username PARENTS /p

username im so excited im driving to the park jsut to visit

username SO EXCITEDE EEFEGRE

username actually ordering her pizza rn

username I HOPE YN REMEMBERS OMG

username we're listening to the aoty tomorroooooow

username every show feels so unreal

username IRSHEGGESOJR

yourinstagram

liked by mrdrdawson, kaiagerber, iamgabrielluna, and 1,540,695 others

yourinstagram rehearsaaaaals

view all 154,644 comments

username THERES A VIDEO OF YOU GUYS SOUNDCHECKING WOMAN ARE WE GETTING WOMAN TN

yourinstagram huh

username YN

harrystyles NO WONDER WHY YOU'VE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG

username THEYRE SO GLSEIFJGG

zendaya i miss youuuu

yourinstagram z i miss you so much it hurts

username IM SO EXCITEED

username OHHSG SRIGRGH

username 2023 is treating ynrry so well and im here for it

username I HAVE THE PIZZA YN

yourinstagram it better be my favorite one

ynrry

liked username, and 6,705 others

ynrry first look at ynrry onstage at perth!

view all 322 comments

username WHAT THE FUCK

username i love how they're matching but not matching at all

username ITS SO GOOD TO SEE THEM AGAIN OMG I MISSED THEM SO MUCH

username i am IN TEARS

username SUE AND HIS BESTFRIEND AT PERRRTTTTHHHH

--

"Okay, so tonight's dinner will be pizza, as I was informed. "Where are you?" Not knowing what she should be looking for other than a pizza box as she makes her way down the catwalk, YN says, "Is there a pizza box I should be looking for, really? — A sudden cheer could be heard from the other side of the stage, where Harry appeared to be pointing down to someone in the audience. Harry said, "C'mere, I think I found her. I'll even check my imaginary watch on my wrist to see how long it'll take her to get here," he said, motioning for YN to come over to his side.

"I actually believed a turtle was with me on stage," Harry jokes with a smirk on his lips, "YN finally made it over, much slower than anyone, actually." By this time, the two are arguing once more and have forgotten that they were looking for the pizza a fan had promised YN she would get at tonight's show.

"Well, I wouldn't really like the opportunity to slip and fall down as I'm running to you, no? - I'm simply being safe, unlike you." YN says with a cheeky grin plastered onto her face, to which Harry replies with a playful, offended look as he dramatically starts crying and places his hands over his eyes to stop his "tears" from falling out.

YN decides to move on, away from the conversation, and approaches the fan, who is holding a pizza box in the air. "Are you the one who promised me dinner?" The fan's head nodding told her everything she needed to know, even though she couldn't really hear what she was saying due to the audience and the earpiece placed in her ears. She then reaches over to the fan, carefully grabbing the box from the fan's hands without falling. As YN holds the box, her excitement quickly builds as she remembers how hungry she was before the show.

"Better hope it's your favorite pizza. If not, the pizza will be mine before you know it!" Harry approaches YN with a sneaky grin on his face. By turning away from the audience to hide the pizza they would be eating on stage, YN and Harry created needless suspense. — The boy standing next to YN laughs as she says, "Don't let me down, please," into her microphone.

It was YN's preferred pizza, which surprised her. As she crouches next to the fan, YN exclaims, "You are now my favorite person ever, I love you so much." — "You certainly made her happy, I suppose. Sincerely, I believed she would eventually cut off my head." Harry says as he squats down next to YN and receives snarling looks in return.

"Harry, I hate you so much." She pushes him in a playful manner until he falls to his back, at which point she turns to face the fan while grinning widely. — "You have my undying love. I adore you. Because of you, dinner is served!"

"Speaking of Adore You," Harry teases into his microphone as he motions for YN to stand, the upbeat instrumental playing through the speakers.

YN was spotted eating pizza while seated close to her and Harry's band.

--

iuploadtweetsaboutynrryonig

liked by username, and 4,219 others

celebnews

liked by username, and 19,653 others

celebnews "Y'wanna do it with me?" -- "Pass. I don't want to barf out the pizza I just ate. And besides, you're not even drinking it with beer!" -- "Well, this is a family show, is it not?" YN LN and Harry Styles on doing a shoey at their concert at Perth.

view all 3,120 comments

username ITS THE WAY YN'S FACE LOOKED LIKE WHEN HE PUT HIS SHOE BACK ON 💀

username he drank it out of a GUCCI SNEAKER

username SOMEONE SEDATE ME RN

username yn just munching on her food in the back while harry does all of these 😭

username "this is one of the most disgusting traditions" -- "THEN DON'T DO IT" I LOVE YN SM LMFAOO

username yn shaking her head in disappointment like a mother for him doing it and him not doing it right 😭

username I JUST WOKE UP HES DOING A SHOEY??

ynrry

liked by username, and 2,431 others

ynrry more of ynrry tonight at perth!

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, lukehemmings, benbarnes, and 2,740,385 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Perth. February. 2023.

view all 14,321 comments

username WE MISSED YOU BOOOTHH

username had the time of my life im so thankful

username i miss you already

yourinstagram this is the face of someone who DROPPED A SLICE OF MY PIZZA ON THE FLOOR.

harrystyles I SAID I WAS SORRY

username CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAINN

username 2023ynrry is such a sight to see

username LOVE LVOE LOVE

username SOMEONE POST A VIDEO OF THE SHOEY PLEASE

yourinstagram

liked by dualipa, chrisevans, and 2,132,001 others

yourinstagram taught this man how to use a phone once, and he can't let go of it. PERTH I LOVE YOU

view all 32,290 comments

username the thought of yn teaching harry makes me giggle a bit

username i barely see this man holding a phone this is a rare sight

username I'M GLAD YOU ENJOYED THE PIZZA !

yourinstagram i love you i love you i love you

username tonight felt like a dream omg

username IM COMING TO SEE YOU TWO AGAIN SOOOOON

username the best duo in the whole universe no one can tell me otherwise

yourinstagram via ig story

[persephone-writes]

On the Streets of Coruscant: Part Two

Obi-Wan x Fem!Reader

Read Part One (posted on my old account @persephone-writes2)

Obi-Wan image by ObmanBalagan on pinterest

Description: Over a decade after their spontaneous stroll around the Plaza, Y/N is working as an aide to Senator Amidala. When the Senator is placed under the protection of two Jedi after an assassination attempt, Y/N is reunited with the now Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Word Count: 9.7k

Warnings & Tags: canon typical violence/the assassination attempts of Padme (mentioned only), mild discussions of low self esteem, reader specifically does *not* have children, probably a crap ton of grammatical errors, lots of Y/N usage, fluff, kissing, happy ending!

Notes: Sooo, full warning, I hate this, but I'm posting it anyway! This takes place during Attack of the Clones, so I had to change a few things around to fit in the reader (some things just happen because I said so lol) This also means that I HAD to include Jar Jar. I attempted at writing dialogue for him but I just couldn't bring myself to, so I tried my best to just have him barely be there lmao. Also, mullet obi-wan is top tier and I will die on that hill

Y/N clicked away on her holopad, attempting to get through the pile of work that had been dumped on her that morning.  While her job was always demanding, and sometimes overwhelming, this was the busiest she had been in a long time.  With Senator Amidala set to arrive on Coruscant today amidst an increasingly intense political climate, Y/N was tasked with taking what seemed like hundreds of messages, thoroughly organizing and answering every one.  While Padmé had an array of other aides to help her, Y/N was the head of her office on Coruscant, leaving her with the majority of the responsibility when she was on-planet, besides that of Dormé. 

Despite her spinning head, Y/N adored her job, as well as Senator Amidala.  She had worked in a variety of low level positions for different Senators, many of which were not nearly as kind.  No matter how much pressure she faced, Padmé never spoke harshly or berated those who worked for her.  Y/N couldn’t imagine how exhausting it must be to represent an entire planet, all while keeping up a professional appearance.  Outside of her office, Padmé had to seem relaxed, dignified, and confident no matter what she was up against.  At least Y/N didn’t have to face the wrath of the public or the argumentative nature of the Senate.  Always tucked away inside the office, Y/N could plug away at her work without the eyes of thousands upon her at any given time. 

Another aide knocked on the door of the office before entering, peeking his head in. 

“The Senator is landing.”

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, frantically pulling up the most urgent messages in preparation.  The aide hurried away down the hall, the door closing behind him.  After a few minutes, a guard came running down the hall, opening the door abruptly.  Y/N jumped at the sudden intrusion, growing fearful when she saw the look on his face. 

“The Senator’s ship has been attacked,” the guard said, a bit out of breath.  Y/N felt her stomach drop, dread rushing through her. 

“Is she alright?” Y/N asked, voice desperate. Before he could answer, Captain Typho pushed past him, leading Padmé into the room.  Her face was contorted in sadness and confusion, obviously still in shock.  She wasn’t wearing her usual attire, dressed identically to Typho in a dark turtleneck and leather vest.  She immediately sat down in one of the chairs, head hung low.  

A wave of relief came over Y/N knowing Padmé was okay.  She immediately rushed to her, kneeling down beside her chair. 

“Milady, are you alright?” Padmé only nodded.  Y/N looked up at Captain Typho, who was pacing around the room. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he said, eyes darting around in thought. “Someone bombed the ship.”

For a moment, Y/N stared out into space, swallowing thickly before she stood.  

“Milady,” Typho began, to which Padmé lifted her head, “We must get you somewhere safer.”

She nodded, standing up and taking a deep breath.  Her composure was regained, and Y/N marveled at the speed to which she recovered from such a terrifying incident.  She turned to Y/N, eyes determined. 

“Y/N, send me all the necessary documents for the vote,” she paused, turning to Typho, “We shall go to my apartment.”

“Yes, milady,” Y/N answered.  Typho then led Padmé from the room, Y/N immediately returning to her desk to get to work once again.  

A few hours later, Y/N received a message from the Captain that she would be meeting with the Chancellor and would not be returning to the Senate today.  Further, Y/N was to meet Padmé at her apartment to discuss a series of negotiation plans which Y/N had been organizing.  Y/N was no stranger to working in the Senator’s apartment, having done so on many late nights when Padmé refused to get some rest.  However, it had never been under such circumstances.   

Later in the afternoon, Padmé’s team sent a transport for her along with a guard.  Y/N thought it was overkill, as no one was after a random aide, but she didn’t make too much of a fuss about it.  No one could stop Padmé from worrying about her team, especially after some of them likely died in the attack.  As the transport flew through the busy city, Y/N peered out of the window, wondering who could have been behind the explosion.  Padmé had many adversaries, though it surprised Y/N that any one of them would attempt to assassinate her.  The Separatist movement had uprooted nearly every system, turning the Senate into more of a battle ground than ever before.  Even so, war had not broken out yet, and all Y/N could do was hope that it wouldn’t resort to that.

Pulling up to the apartment, Y/N was escorted by the guard all the way up the glass turbolift, exposed to the city.  Stepping in, she remembered the first time she had been called here, unable to pull her eyes away from the city growing smaller as she ascended.  

As the turbolift doors opened, she immediately heard the happy voice of Jar Jar Binks.  While she thought it strange for someone to be excited at a time like this, it was hard to tamper Jar Jar’s spirits.  The guard led her into the apartment, where she saw Padmé sitting on one of the long sofas.  She was clothed her usual fashion, hair in an updo, wearing a wide skirt dress with long flowing sleeves.  Although Padmé looked good in almost anything, it was a small relief to see her back to her normal self.  Captain Typho was standing a few feet away, with Dormé sitting beside Padmé.  On the sofa opposite sat two men who Y/N instantly recognized as Jedi.  Working for the Senate, Y/N had seen her fair share of Jedi over the years, though their presence usually didn’t bring good news.  Of course, today wasn’t the day for good news anyhow. 

Padmé stopped speaking, spotting Y/N as she walked into the room.  She turned to smile at her, which Y/N returned easily.  The other’s followed Padmé’s gaze, and Y/N grew a bit nervous at the attention.  Her eyes went to the two Jedi, now given a clear view of their faces.  The one sitting closest had short, cropped brown hair and the braid of a padawan falling across his shoulder.  He appeared slightly annoyed, and Y/N wondered if she had intruded upon an important conversation she was not meant to be a part of.  Her gaze drifted to the other Jedi, whose hair was on the longer side and a light copper in color.  His beard was short and neatly trimmed, though there was still an air about him that was rugged, ever so slightly ruffled.  After her brief first impression, the realization hit Y/N with a full, intense force.  Her heart sped up significantly as she thought back to over ten years ago when she had met a Jedi at a nightclub. 

Before Y/N could make any sort of reaction, Padmé stood, followed by the others.  

“Y/N,” she said kindly, walking over to greet her. 

“Senator,” Y/N said in return, bowing.

Jar Jar happily pranced over and shook Y/N’s hand, telling her it was nice to see her again.  Y/N chuckled at his enthusiasm before turning back to Padmé. 

“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his padawn, Anakin Skywalker,” she introduced.  Y/N was forced to look at the two Jedi, feeling heat rush up her spine and into her face.  She had no idea if she should acknowledge that they knew each other, or pretend they were strangers.  Obi-Wan reached out his hand to shake hers, a small, polite smile on his lips.  She took it wearily, forcing herself to make eye contact.  It was easier to shake the padawan’s hand, who only nodded at her. 

Now that she was closer to Obi-Wan, she stole a look at him from the corner of her eye.  He was just as handsome as he was when they first met, perhaps even more handsome.  His face was not boyish as it had been, now more mature, his features stronger and more pronounced.  The buzz that once existed all around him was settled, but not completely gone.  Remnants of it remained in his eyes, which still held their playful shine.  Suddenly, Y/N grew self conscious of her appearance.  She was older than she had been, no longer the young girl she once was.  It was hard for her to know how different she truly looked, as she had watched herself slowly age over many years.  Her clothes as well were more mature, or rather refined.  She realized that Obi-Wan had only seen her in her party clothes, never something professional, clean-cut, more simple.  Her rapid thoughts were interrupted by Padmé, who went on to introduce her.

“This is Y/N L/N, my leading aide on Coruscant,” Padmé said.  Obi-Wan let out a small laugh at her words, earning a confused look from Padmé.  His laugh was a bit deeper than it was all those years ago, but it held the same lightness and ease. 

“We’ve met,” he said, accent still smooth, “a long time ago.”

Y/N smiled sheepishly, knowing that Obi-Wan was looking at her face.  Padmé appeared pleasantly surprised, Anakin raising his brows at his Master. 

“You have?” Padmé asked, smiling at Y/N.  

Y/N nodded, trying to think of what to say.  Obi-Wan saved her, speaking before anyone could ask questions. 

“I was still a padawan then,” Obi-Wan said, light hearted without giving anything away.  Anakin looked suspiciously towards Y/N, but wiped his face quickly when she noticed. 

“This is the day of reacquaintance,” Padmé said, pleased with the surprise. Y/N gave her a confused look, and she laughed a bit, realizing her mistake. “I met Master Kenobi and Anakin ten years ago, when I was Queen.”

Y/N nodded. “I see,” was all she could think to say.  

“You must excuse us,” Padmé began, “We have much work to do.”

“It was lovely to meet you,” Y/N said to Anakin.  She then looked to Obi-Wan, mind reeling. “And it’s nice to see you again.”  She then left to follow Padmé and Dormé, cheeks burning.  

Y/N spent the afternoon into the evening with Padmé and Dormé, going over documents and discussing her next moves.  Y/N did most of the clerical work, leaving the politics to Padmé and Dormé, who knew the ins and outs.  Although Y/N had picked up a lot, she still felt overwhelmed by the current climate and all its complexities.  The whole time, she was hyper aware that Obi-Wan was in the other room, doing who knows what.  

As the evening fell, Padmé excused Y/N, asking her to return tomorrow morning.  She was thankful, as the eventful day had her tired, as surely Padmé was as well.  At least she knew that Padmé would take it easy for the rest of the night, forgoing any further work until morning. Exiting the room, holopad in hand, Y/N saw Anakin and Obi-Wan talking on the balcony.  She hoped they wouldn’t notice her, allowing her to slip out quietly, though the chances of this were likely slim.  In all honesty, she had no idea how she would handle being so close to Obi-Wan for the foreseeable future, unable to acknowledge the circumstance of their last meeting and pretending as if they hadn’t gone on a romantic escapade.  

Perhaps feeling her eyes upon his back, Anakin turned, catching Y/N staring.  To her surprise, he gave her a small smile, which she anxiously returned before whipping her head forward.  She walked quickly to the turbolift, hoping that somehow Obi-Wan would remain ignorant of her growing uncertainty. 

Her alarm blared and she hastily reached over to turn off the cacophony of noise.  She laid in bed for a quiet moment, still groggy but remembering the events of the day prior.  She groaned upon the realization that she’d be forced to face Obi-Wan, all with the intent not to embarrass herself.  She envied his even manner which gave nothing away, not letting anyone know of their odd history.  As she pondered over this, she felt a pang in her heart at the thought that Obi-Wan was completely unaffected by her presence.  Yes, Y/N had a series of relationships since her single, solitary kiss with Obi-Wan, but that didn’t take away from the fact that she was entirely unprepared to ever see him again.  Until now, Obi-Wan was a fleeting yet meaningful moment in her life, one which Y/N would look back on every once in a while with an immature sadness.  The thought of him, someone who was so kind, so bright, so considerate, unable to form any romantic attachments, was poignant to say the least.  When this kind of thinking arose, she’d kick herself for giving it the time of day.  You only met him once, you only kissed once, what's the big deal?

Y/N got ready for the day with the intent of forgetting about Obi-Wan, focusing on the far more pressing matters.  Today would likely consist of setting up calls with many different Senators, some of which would want to discuss the recent attack, others who would simply want to argue about the motion to create an army.  Further, Y/N had no clue how long Senator Amidala would stay on-planet, so she would have to get to organizing all she could before she was off somewhere else.  As she brushed her teeth, Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror, paying far too much attention to how she looked.  Just as she had sworn off thinking about Obi-Wan, the image of herself brought back feelings of insecurity.  She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what Obi-Wan thought when he first saw her again, thinking that perhaps his placidity came from the fact that he no longer found her attractive.  Although she tried to brush the thought of him away, she didn’t stop herself from putting on her best work-appropriate outfit.  

In a kind gesture, Padmé sent a speeder to pick Y/N up from her apartment, again accompanied by a guard.  She made small talk with him on the way to Padmé’s in an aim to calm her nerves, which despite all her efforts still bubbled beneath the surface.  When Y/N arrived, she saw Padmé and Dormé sitting opposite each other in the seating area, multiple holopads and projections on the table between them.  Off to the side, Obi-Wan and Anakin stood, Anakin seeming on guard and brewing with energy.  Padmé looked up from her work, waving Y/N over to sit with them. 

“There was another attack,” Padmé said, voice even and calculated, “I’m leaving for Naboo tomorrow.”

“Why not today, milady?” Y/N asked, full of concern. 

“I must leave on an unregistered transport, it will take some time to organize,” Padmé explained.  Seeing Y/N’s worries, she placed a hand on her shoulder for reassurance. “I will be alright, Anakin will be with me.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit better.  She wondered why Obi-Wan would not be joining her, though didn’t ask.  

“In the meantime, we must get as much done as we can.  I doubt I will be able to work much in hiding.”

With that, they all got to work.  Y/N was mostly silent, leaving Dormé and Padmé to talk over the majority of her decisions.  Padmé received a warm call from Senator Organa, who extended any help to her that he could offer.  Y/N never had the chance to work under him, though she expected it would be much like working for Padmé.  To Y/N, they seemed to be the only two honest and truly kind politicians in the galaxy, setting them in stark contrast to the increasingly unscrupulous nature of the Senate at large.  Amidst the growing chaos, Y/N hardly paid attention to the two Jedi guarding the apartment. 

Some time that morning, Padmé decided to move to a different room which housed a large table so that they could spread out more.  Y/N was off to the side, plugging away as usual, happy that her responsibilities seemed mild in comparison to Padmé and Dormé’s.  

Y/N hadn’t even noticed that they had worked well into midday, brought up from her work when Dormé suggested they break for a short lunch.  They were all left with a little free time, as it would take a bit for the chef to prepare their meals.  That was one thing Y/N loved about working at Padmé’s apartment; the chef.  Padmé and Dormé left the room as Y/N finished the last few sentences of her address to another Senatorial aide, sighed deeply as she sent it along. 

Walking into the main living space, she found Padmé standing beside one of the long floor to ceiling windows speaking to Anakin.  Padmé’s smile was calm, and for the first time in a while she seemed genuinely relieved.  If Y/N didn't know better, it looked as though Padmé and Anakin were close, long time friends, used to seeing one another.  Her eyes were taken away from the pair, drifting to Obi-Wan who was pouring over something on his holopad.  He too appeared incredibly natural, though tense in the shoulders.  If it weren’t for his robes, he could've been just another aide hard at work. 

Y/N lazily walked over to the balcony, pushing open the large glass doors and feeling the cool air of Coruscant brush against her face.  She sighed with contentment, taking in the view of the city from such a great height.  It wasn’t often that she was so high like this, nearly above the clouds.  It was as close to peaceful as she’s had in a while, not since her last visit to Corellia several years ago.  A few minutes passed, Y/N’s mind wandering to the various tasks which still needed to be done before Padmé left for Naboo. 

She was interrupted by the sound of the door opening behind her.  She glanced back, expecting to see Dormé or perhaps Padmé, only to find that it was Obi-Wan.  Her heart rate picked up as she took in his regal appearance, robes tidy and neatly tucked.  He smiled softly as if to ask permission to join her.  She returned it the best she could, trying to push her nerves down.  He came up beside her near the railing and looked out, sighing to himself. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to peek at him, fearful that her emotions would too clearly show upon her face. 

“I’m glad to see you working in the profession you wanted,” Obi-Wan said, voice abundantly friendly, yet somewhat professional in nature.  Y/N bravely glanced at him with a kind expression, genuinely pleased that he remembered. 

“Yes, I am too,” she paused, realizing that unlike before, it wouldn’t be awkward to mention his profession. “And now you’re a Master, with a padawan of your own.  Congratulations,” she said honestly. 

He chuckled, “Thank you.”  Obi-Wan shifted his weight to one foot, turning to look at her profile. “Truly, I am pleased to see you again.”

“I’m a bit surprised you remembered me,” she let slip, growing a bit more comfortable with the exchange.  Her teasing earned another small chuckle from him.

“I don’t easily forget,” was all he said in return, leaning an elbow on the railing. 

Y/N fully turned towards him, met with the same face she saw that night in the club as they both stood at the bar.  Now, his jaw was partially obscured by a beard.  She thought it suited him, as did his longer hair.  She wanted to tell him so, but decided against it, not wanting to break what felt like a fragile moment. 

“I’ve since visited Corellia,” Obi-Wan began again, tone still light. 

Y/N smiled at him, brows slightly raised. “You did?”

“Yes, though as you might expect, I was occupied most of the time.  However, it did not disappoint.”

Y/N realized he was very much still the same, though perhaps more subtle in his cheekiness. 

“I’ve been back as well, though only a few times. It’s still as boring as I remembered,” she joked. 

“Now, I am sure you are longing for boredom as well.”

Something electric shot through her with his words, reminding her more and more of that night.  It appeared as though Obi-Wan did not lie; he does not easily forget.  A small seed of innocent, foolish hope made its way into her heart.  Had he thought about me since then, as I did him?  She quickly reprimanded herself, shaking her head to clear the thought away. 

“You’re right,” she sighed, “For the Senator’s sake rather than mine.”

Obi-Wan paused, not replying for a moment. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from wondering what was going on inside his mind, which puzzle pieces he was trying to fit together.  She had no clue who was attempting to assassinate Padmé, too many possibilities floating around to grasp.  However, she was sure Obi-Wan had a much better idea than herself. 

“It’s a tricky business we both are in, though all things important are difficult.”

Once again, she was infatuated with his wisdom, which had only grown. 

“I bet you are a wonderful master to Anakin.” 

He took the compliment well, not as bashful as he once was. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said her name warmly, resurfacing a slurry of emotions she didn’t know still existed.  All at once she felt ten years younger, enraptured with her name said in his accent, in his voice.  

“I mean it, really.  I could hardly imagine trying to lead someone, teach them what I know.  The whole thought of it makes me feel like I know nothing,” she was letting more and more of her feelings slip, far more than she originally intended.  This morning, she had vowed to be wholly professional, to focus on the job she had to do, not to get caught up in buried emotions.  However, there was something about Obi-Wan’s presence that made her too free with her words.  It was the same way over ten years ago, where she found herself spilling her guts to an almost stranger.  If he stuck around any longer, one of these days she might just get herself into real trouble.

“I’m sure you could, if given the chance.  It takes courage to come to a new place, to build a new life.  That is something you know far more about than I.”  There he went again, melting her from the inside out. 

“Perhaps, and I’d have to bet I’d beat you in a typing contest,” she jested.  

Obi-Wan let out a hearty laugh, unconstricted and full, “I believe you are right.”

The conversation lulled, with Y/N unsure what to say.  Her guards were still up, despite the fact that they were steadily lowering against her will.  She wondered how much she could get away with addressing, which facts were off limits and which were okay to mention.  Obi-Wan seemed to be perfectly comfortable with speaking about everything but the kiss, though she didn’t want to push her luck.  

She settled on something simple, something pertaining to the here and now. “I’m happy Anakin will accompany the Senator, I’m sure she will be safe in his presence.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, glancing down for a moment. “His eagerness often worries me, though it may serve him well with his task,” Obi-Wan said. 

“A product of youth,” she commented, amused at the thought of Obi-Wan having to deal with the antics of a young man.  She thought that perhaps once, Obi-Wan had done the same to his Master. 

“Unavoidable, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan replied effortlessly, turning to look at her face once again.  She felt bare under his gaze, as if he could see through her every shield, each mask she wore.  

“I’m sure with your guidance he will grow into an exemplary Jedi.  I don’t think you could mold him into anything less.” Her flattery was not lost on Obi-Wan, whose ardent smile felt like a flowering bruise, a reminder of his oxymoronic, sweet rejection.  

“Your faith in me surpasses that of myself,” he retorted frivolously, making Y/N chuckle.  After a pause, Obi-Wan spoke again, “How long have you worked for Senator Amidala?”

Y/N thought for a moment, adding up the years in her head. “About four years now.  I hope to work for her as long as she’ll let me.  She is by far the kindest boss I’ve ever had,” she laughed a bit with the thought of begging Padmé to let her stay, offering to do anything but go back to working with the other Senators. 

Obi-Wan smiled to himself, eyes darting around the skyline. “She is a rarity, no doubt.”

“I’m sure you have worked with a fair few Senators.  You must know how…difficult they can be.”

Obi-Wan chuckled with a sigh, seeming surprised by her admission. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

Without thinking, Y/N said what was on her mind, letting it pass through her filters as if it were a smuggler, “I’m glad you have not lost your sense of humor.”

“I need it to deal with Anakin,” he joked, now his turn to surprise Y/N.  

She couldn’t stop herself from giggling girlishly, placing a hand over her mouth.  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, seeing a mildly devilish look on his face.  

“Your sharp tongue must get you into trouble sometimes,” she teased, pushing the limits a bit further.  

Obi-Wan tilted his head a bit, shrugging slightly. “It only appears amongst friends.”

Friends. The word danced around her head, bouncing all the way to her chest, pulsing against her heartbeat.  She thought that perhaps he was humoring her, throwing her a bone.  He couldn’t possibly think of her as a friend, could he?  Technically, they’ve only known each other a total of three days, which was far too soon to be friends.  Acquaintances, yes.  Friends? No.  While Y/N struggled with the idea that he might just be indulging her, she was suddenly reminded of a detail of their first encounter, one which she played over and over in her head the days following: I should not have allowed myself such an indulgence.  

Obi-Wan glanced back through the glass door, then back to Y/N, who didn’t notice his staring. “Do you still see those whom I met that night?” he asked.

It took a second for Y/N to understand what he meant, remembering he probably never got their names. “Oh, yes, I do.  Well, some of them.  I still see Ripp, whose father owned the club.”

Obi-Wan nodded, chuckling to himself, “They seemed like a lively bunch.”

Y/N laughed, thinking back to the times they had together while in school. “Yes, they were.  Thankfully, we are all doing quite well for ourselves now.”

“I’d say so,” Obi-Wan said genuinely, eyes soft.  

Y/N looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “Did you ever find that man?”

“I believe we did,” it sounded almost like a question, as if he wasn’t quite sure.  

Y/N wanted to comment on the fact that he had told her he doesn’t forget things, but thought that it might come out wrong.  Instead, she focused on the vast expanse of skyscrapers and traffic in front of her.  She could sense Obi-Wan looking at her profile, resurfacing her nerves. 

“You have not lost your wonder,” he said gently, almost a whisper.  Suddenly, she could not stop herself from looking at him, met with his tender expression.  His words confused her, throwing her off the delicate footing she had found herself on.  Her mind raced with endless possibilities, attempting to decide what he expected her to do, what he wanted her to say in return.  

With her breath caught in her throat, she said the only thing that came to mind, “Neither have you.”

He smiled, the kind of smile that seemed too intimate for their odd relationship.  Y/N felt honored to have been on the receiving end of such a smile, especially from Obi-Wan.  The gesture made her weak, pathetically chasing another look like that, completely insatiable.  Amending her earlier thought, Y/N decided that if he stuck around, her truthfulness would not be the only thing to get her in trouble.  It seemed as though there were a million things Obi-Wan could get her to do or say with a simple look towards her or a single suggestion.  It wasn’t because he was charming or persuasive, or even because he was handsome.  No, it was because he listened to her so intently, spoke to her so kindly, and seemed to remember insignificant details from a night which occurred so long ago. 

Y/N fought the urge to reach out and touch this cheek, or at least his arm.  She yearned to feel something which solidified his presence in front of her, anything to tell her he was real and not a ghost conjured up from her memory.  His eyes would have to do for now, sparkling against the midday light, so beautiful Y/N couldn’t possibly have dreamt them.  

“I envy your opinion of me,” Obi-Wan said, still soft but with an air of jest, “But I feel you may be wrong.”

She shook her head instantly, bewildered by his statement.  She wondered how he could possibly think that about himself, while at the same time saying such kind things about herself. 

He laughed quietly, taking his eyes from her.  Mourning the loss of their clear blue color, Y/N stayed staring at face, wanting to soak up every second she had with him on the balcony, where everything seemed simple. 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” she countered.  

He glanced at her with a playful smirk. “For a moment I thought you had grown a bit more shy, but I see that I was wrong.”

She chuckled, feeling embarrassed by his words.  Her whole body was burning hot, despite the high altitude breeze that came whipping past.   

“I’ve just learned when to hold my tongue,” she joked, relaxing a bit as the intensity of the moment began to lift. 

“I only wish Anakn had your skills,” he sounded serious, but Y/N could tell he was joking by his upturned lips and the crinkle on the corners of his eyes.  His sarcasm was new, though it did not feel unnatural, for his wit had always been sharp as a blade.  Y/N giggled to herself, thinking of Obi-Wan talking to his padawan, pestering him with father-like nagging. 

“Something amusing?” Obi-Wan teased, though played it off as if it was a genuine question.  

She shook her head. “No, no,” she faltered for a moment, chuckling to herself, “Are all Jedi as funny as you?”

Obi-Wan sighed as if to think it over, “Perhaps, if you get to know them.” As Y/N was beginning to get caught up in his hidden meaning, he spoke again, “Are all Senatorial aides as diligent as yourself?”

His question caught her a bit off guard, and she wondered if he had peeked into the room and seen her working.  The idea sent butterflies soaring in her belly. 

“No,” she laughed, “But it’s easy to be devoted when Senator Amidala is leading you.”

“You think quite highly of her,” Obi-Wan said a bit curiously.

“Yes,” she answered without thought, “I do.”

“I know how much of a gift it can be to be led by such an admirable example,” Obi-Wan said, voice a bit far off. 

“You’re thinking of your master?” she asked hesitantly, hoping not to overstep her bounds.  Obi-Wan nodded, though his smile had faded.  His eyes, too, were not as bright as they were before.  “I’m sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it-” she rambled, fearing the worst.  

Obi-Wan gave her a sad smile, but his face soon turned neutral. “It’s quite alright.  He died many years ago,” he confessed.  Y/N felt a devastating privilege to have received such an admission, surprised that he gave it so freely.  

“Oh,” she said without thinking, “I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan. I didn’t know.”

“How could you,” he said, unperturbed, the sadness on his face all but washed away.  She wondered where he got his resilience, so that she could get some for herself. 

“He was a good man, and a fine Jedi,” Obi-Wan began again, sounding as if he was speaking only to himself.  Y/N clung to every word, hanging on tightly to anything he chose to tell her. “Though he was a bit more like Anakin than myself.”

Y/N smiled, which soon turned into a grin when Obi-Wan gave her a mischievous sideways glance. “Just think of it as practice.” 

“Yes,” he chuckled, pausing for a moment, “I was lucky to have him, as I am lucky to have Anakin as my padawan,” his tone was deeply warm and full of love.  

Y/N couldn’t believe that he so readily told her about his life in this way, how openly he shared small, intimate details.  While his words alone were not particularly notable, the way he said them told her that he was bearing little pieces of his innermost world.  She wondered how many people were lucky enough to see him like this, punishing herself for assuming that she was special in some way.  Perhaps he was always this open, this unfettered in conversation.  Regardless, she craved a deeper look, even if it was just a peek like a sliver of light coming through a slightly open door.  

After her internal gushing over Obi-Wan’s divulgence, she noticed him looking somewhat hesitant.  It was the first time he faltered since their reintroduction, his expression seeming foreign and unlike his usual self, although Y/N couldn’t deny that she wasn’t the leading expert on the matter.  She cocked her head, flashing him a confused look. 

“What?” she asked, clueless as to what he was thinking. 

He looked down reticently, quickly bringing his eyes back to hers without any shyness.  “Do you have children of your own?” he said it innocently, as if he wasn’t nervous at all.  

Thinking perhaps she had misread his expression, Y/N laughed a bit at the question, “No, I do not.”

“Then you are free of that particular headache,” he chuckled, and Y/N laughed along.

“I can barely take care of myself,” she joked.

“You doubt yourself far too often,” Obi-Wan paused, watching her face, “and ignore how far you have come.”

His kindness spread through her like the tranquil waters of Corellia she used to swim in during the summer months, waves falling in a steady ebb and flow.  She sighed, staring at her hands which rested on the railing.  What could she possibly say to him, what words could express what she felt while also concealing the attraction which had begun to float to the surface?

Before she could think of a reply, Dormé opened the door, causing each of them to turn. 

“Our meal is ready,” she said with a small smile.

“Thank you, Dormé,” Y/N replied, heading back into the apartment with Obi-Wan following behind.  Padmé was already sitting at the table, along with Anakin.  Y/N and Dormé sat down opposite the pair. 

“Join us, Obi-Wan,” Padmé offered.  

Obi-Wan looked a bit hesitant.  “I��ll keep guard, milady,” he said, walking over to the entrance near the turbolift. 

“Captain Typho is on watch,” Padmé insisted, “Please, come eat.”

Obi-Wan sighed, giving in quickly to Padmé’s request.  He took a seat beside Anakin, directly in front of Y/N.  She grew a bit nervous, forced to face him directly, but her attention was diverted as the meals were placed on the table. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Padmé asked Obi-Wan and Y/N, beginning to tuck into her food.  Y/N should have known the question was coming, but she was a bit bewildered nonetheless.  Her mouth opened to answer, but she was at a loss for words. 

“I was on a small mission here in Coruscant,” Obi-Wan began cooly, “Y/N was kind enough to offer a bit of help.”

Anakin smirked to himself as Padmé looked towards Y/N, unaware that she was currently fighting off jitters. Y/N nodded, knowing that she should speak. 

“He was looking for someone, but I was no help,” she said in an even tone, picking at her meal.  

“Surely something must have happened,” Anakin commented, a bit of mockery in his voice, “How else would you remember each other?”

Obi-Wan smiled, completely nonchalant.  Y/N was left wondering how nervous she truly looked, hoping she was playing it as well as Obi-Wan, but seriously doubting her abilities. 

“If I am remembering correctly, a friend of yours knew the man that I was searching for,” he answered, taking a bite. 

“Yes,” she said with a breath, regaining her composure, “His father had kicked him out of the club some time before.”

“The club?” Anakin asked with a raised brow, a smirk playing upon his lips.  Realizing her mistake, Y/N felt heat creep up her cheeks.  Padmé laughed a bit, though Y/N could not tell if it was due to her reaction or Anakins. 

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan clipped, side-eyeing his padawan, “You’re no stranger to them.” 

Obi-Wan’s jab did not seem to affect Anakin, who looked rather pleased with himself.  Y/N focused on her food, not wanting to face the eyes which were surly looking at her.  Normally, she wouldn’t be embarrassed if people knew she went to clubs, especially in her younger years.  However, there was something off about mentioning it in front of a Senator and two Jedi.  It felt as though she had admitted to committing a strange sort of crime.  

“What an odd string of fate,” Padmé said pleasantly, smiling at the others. “It is not often that we are reunited with such fleeting acquaintanceships in a city this large.”

“You are right, milady,” Obi-Wan said, seemingly unbothered by the whole ordeal. 

“Yes, it is quite funny,” Y/N forced herself to say, fearing that her silence may enact suspicion. 

Thankfully, no one brought it up for the rest of the meal.  At first they discussed politics, though soon Obi-Wan went on to share a few stories of missions he and Anakin had gone on over the years.  Y/N listened with interest, holding onto every word.  Obi-Wan was an excellent storyteller, she realized, finding herself content just to hear his voice.  When the meal was finished, Padmé and Dormé went to discuss the details of the plan with Obi-Wan, excusing themselves to speak privately in another room.  Y/N was left with Anakin, who was to keep watch while Obi-Wan was occupied.   

With her holopad in the other room, Y/N was left to kill time on her own.  She walked over to the large windows, watching the speeders fly past, criss-crossing lanes along the skyline.  She soon began to worry about Padmé, wishing that whoever was behind the attacks would somehow slip up and reveal themselves.  It was a futile hope, but there was nothing else she could do.  So deep in thought, she did not hear Anakin coming up to stand beside her.  

His voice came without warning, “I have a feeling there is more to you than meets the eye.” 

She jumped, placing a hand on her chest as her head whipped around to see him.  He chuckled at her unease, and she gave him a weary smile.  However, it soon left when she processed his words. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, still a bit fretful from the scare. 

He let out a slow chuckle, looking out the window instead of at her. “I know my master well, better than most.  Which means I know when he is concealing the truth.”

She inhaled shakily, her hands coming together, fingers winding around with nervousness.  Something in her face or tone must have slipped during lunch, letting Anakin in on her secret.  She bit her lip, wondering what to say and how to deny it.  

He smirked, eyeing her steadily. “Something else happened.”

She shook her head, deciding to act as if she had no clue what he was talking about. “No, it really is as simple as what he said.”

Anakin laughed again, “You are a terrible liar.”

She wanted to groan, knowing it was fruitless to play ignorant.  She decided on a new game plan: tell him as little as it takes to satisfy his curiosity. 

“Fine,” she surrendered, wavering a bit, “I bought him a drink. A single drink.”

Anakin stared at her, spurring her on.  As she gave her a resolute look back, he raised his brows. “You know I know that's not all.”

She faltered, feeling his provocation pulling her towards his will.  Unwisely, she had thought her admission would be enough for him.  

“I promise not to tell my Master,” he offered.

After a long pause, she gave in, knowing he would not easily let the matter go. “We got talking, just small talk.  I asked him if he’d ever been around Coruscant while he’s not working, and he said no, and I…” she trailed off, scared that she would reveal too much if she went any further.  

Anakin’s eyes lit at the confession, and he let out a happy sigh. “You see, I knew my Master wasn’t as good of a padawan as he says he was,” he laughed, “He’s probably reeling, worrying that I would find out.”

She shot him an angry look, afraid that he would tell Obi-Wan of her indiscretion.  Anakin rolled his eyes, waving a hand in her direction. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell, even though I want to,” he drawled, looking proud that he had gotten the secret from her.  He crossed his arms over his chest, standing tall.  Y/N would have been infuriated if her embarrassment wasn’t so strong.  While Y/N overthought their interaction, running it over in her head until the words sounded foreign, Anakin strolled off as if nothing had happened.  

She was left a bit stunned until Padmé, Dormé, and Obi-Wan emerged from the room.  Obi-Wan went over to Anakin, telling him that he would have to leave.  He sounded quite urgent, but his composure did not waiver.  Anakin only nodded, and with that Obi-Wan left without a goodbye.  Usually so polite, Y/N guessed that the matter likely pertained to the assassination attempts, which had doubled over the course of a single day.  

Padmé walked over to Y/N, calm and collected as she always was. 

“Y/N, you are free to go back to the Senate,” her voice was tenacious, strong-willed as always.

Y/N nodded. “Yes, milady.  Would you be needing anything else from me before I leave?”

“No, that's alright,” Padmé answered with a smile, “I’m not sure when I will be in contact with you next, so give all messages to Jar Jar, who will be representing me in my absence.”

Y/N bowed, going over to her workspace to collect her things.  She had a feeling Padmé would be getting ready to depart tomorrow, and it was safer for her to have Y/N know as little as possible.  She was already a bit surprised they let her know that Padmé would be leaving Coruscant, though she had been working with her for some time.  Y/N was warmed by the thought that the Senator trusted her so much, feeling a bit proud of the work she had done thus far. 

Y/N returned to the Senate to get the rest of her work completed, not even realizing that she might never see Obi-Wan again until the end of the day.  When the thought came, a wave of sadness drifted all around her, especially since she hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye.  In spite of all her efforts, she felt the same as she did over a decade ago, sitting on the bench in the Plaza as Obi-Wan faded into the crowd.  It was stupid, foolish, and entirely immature, but her mind could not release its hook from their conversation on the balcony.  She went over every word, every expression, each twitch of the lips.  Instead of pushing the memory away as she should, she held it tighter, embracing it with open arms.  It only appears amongst friends. You have not lost your wonder. You doubt yourself far too often, and ignore how far you have come. I don’t easily forget, I don’t easily forget, I don’t easily forget.  It was if his words were echoing around the empty office, fading out into space only to begin once more.  The letters rolled on top of each other, spinning into a melodious song sung in his pleasant voice. 

As she left work, she walked slowly down the wide corridors of the Senate building, arms limp at her sides.  A haze of melancholy enveloped every step, dulling the click of her shoes against the polished stone floor.  During the taxi ride home, she looked out of the window like she always did, following the lines of the buildings with her eyes, locking onto a particular point until it was lost in her peripheral.  The noise of the city outside was dulled in her ears, as if she was listening underwater.  She thought of Obi-Wan, his copper hair, his aquamarine eyes, then dismissed it, back and forth into oblivion.  She told herself it was not by fate that they met again, that his words were simply friendly and meant nothing, though her efforts were in vain.  Every irrational bone in her body overpowered her feeble attempts to break them or expose their falsehoods.  It was a losing battle, so she pushed it off as best she could, telling the soldiers it could wait until morning. 

Her head pounded to the beat of the alarm clock like a punishment for the day before.  Turning off the vexatious beeping, she headed straight for the ‘fresher to take some pills for the pain.  She shook her head at herself in the mirror, tsking her half-witted hope that somehow Obi-Wan would fall for her again.  Even if he did happen to feel the same, he was older now, not so impulsive.  He’d never let the past repeat itself.  Y/N had to remind herself that she was an adult now too, that she would have to get over her childish infatuation and move on.  It wasn’t as if she’d never dated anyone since then.  They were never quite like him, though.

In order to regain some sense of normalcy, she went about her routine in the same way she always did.  When it was time to dress, she found herself staring into her closet at all the clothes she had hanging there, her nice outfit piled in the hamper.  She chuckled at her ridiculous decision to wear what she did the day before, somehow thinking that it was important to look nice for a man she could never have.  

The taxi ride to the Senate was longer than usual, traffic congested but thankfully never completely stalled.  It was only a few hours into the day and already it was turning out awful, though Y/N’s patience was thin to start out with.  Unlike the previous evening, she walked quickly through the Senate to her office, giving the people she passed a cordial, but somewhat frigid smile.  She didn’t know if she’d be able to get through the pleasantries of “how are you?” or “nice to see you again”, thinking it better just to get to her office and hole up there until she was ready to go back home.  On the bright side, today her mind would remain busy with work, unable to muse over other things. 

Only a few people popped into the office that morning, mostly for a quick word and nothing more.  It was a blessing that everyone was incredibly swamped as well, unable to take any down time to chat.  Every once in a while, when Y/N wondered if Padmé was off planet yet, or something came in mentioning the assassination, she was practically forced into thinking about Obi-Wan.  With how much he was likely occupied, she thought it would be highly improbable that he was thinking of her at all, even in passing.  His work was important, far more important than her own, demanding diligent, careful attention.  Despite these small reminders of him, they did not stick around like they had last night, remaining fleeting and pulled from her mind when she looked back at her holopad.  

It was the afternoon, the sun over its peak, slowly descending over the city.  A ray shined through the curtainless window, specks of dust revealed in the air which looked almost like falling snow.  Deep in thought, Y/N jumped as the door wooshed open, her head shooting up from the holopad.  As she looked at the door, her breath caught in her throat, making it feel as though she had forgotten how to breathe.  There in her office, Obi-Wan was standing, his brown robe skimming the floor, eyes wide as if he was surprised by his own entrance.  Y/N stood abruptly, her chair pushing out behind her and bumping the wall.  

“Obi-Wan,” she said in shock, or perhaps as a question.  He took a step into the room, then went to take another, though stopped in his tracks. 

“Y/N, I,” he paused, swallowing, “I never got a chance to say goodbye. I’m leaving now, and I am unsure as to when I will return.”

“Oh,” was all she could muster, still paralyzed and unmoving.   

He looked down for a moment, hands clasped together. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said with a small smile.  She didn’t return it, still too stunned to do anything but stare at him.  Obi-Wan promptly turned and left, the door closing behind him.  

She just stood there, her thoughts a thousand miles high.  She questioned if Obi-Wan had really just come into the office or if it was a figment of her imagination, created by her night-long mulling over of the day before.  Her breaths remained shallow as her thoughts caught up to themselves, their summersaults ending with a finale of fireworks erupting between her ears.  She was baffled by his entrance, completely unaware of his motives.  Gradually, all else dropped away but her need to find Obi-Wan, to ask him if had really come back only to say goodbye, or if he had something else to say.  Her mind willed her legs to move, but they stayed still, frozen in time.  

“Come on,” she whispered to herself, not hearing her own voice, “run.”

With that her body finally obeyed, and she rushed to the door, huffing as she pressed the button to open it.  Her feet carried her flying down the hall, not noticing the people who stopped to stare at her along the way.  She skirted around every corner, the white walls and metal doors a single blur like the swipe of a wide paintbrush.  When she came upon the exit to the landing platforms, it was as if the wide door was encased in the glowing light of a new sun, calling her to come through to the other side.  Thankfully, the door was motion censored, saving her the precious few seconds that would be needed to open it.  As she emerged, the sun shined in her eyes, and she placed a hand on her forehead as a shield.  Frantically, she looked around for Obi-Wan, scanning every ship for movement, only to find every ship near to her vacant.  

In the distance, she saw the loading ramp of a ship descend, euphoric at the sight of Obi-Wan’s brown robe.  She began running towards him, sprinting faster as she saw him beginning to board.  Fearing that she would be too late, she called out his name.  Obi-Wan's face was hidden within the ship, though she could see him stop.  He looked down and saw her, though Y/N wasn’t close enough to tell the details of his expression.  As she neared, the realization of what she was doing set in, bringing about a wave of uncertainty.  However, it washed away when she saw Obi-Wan’s face. 

She stood at the base of the ramp, panting from her impromptu workout.  She locked her eyes with Obi-Wan’s, which were soft, brilliantly gleaming as they stared across her face.  Her once racing mind was all but empty, filled only with the serene happiness of having caught Obi-Wan before he took off.  Neither she or Obi-Wan said a word, though he smiled thoughtfully like he had a secret.  Stars, he must think I’m some kind of crazy person.

Despite her lack of shame or uneasiness, she fumbled with her words, not knowing how to express what she wanted to.  

“I,” she began, a doting smile beginning to peek through, “I feel like this is completely foolish,” she paused, bringing her hands up to her face for a moment, “Stars, I just can’t let you leave without telling you.”

“Tell me what?” he murmured, his smile growing slightly more noticeable. 

Her gaze drifted from his, overwhelmed by her boiling face and heart which was beating so fast she ought to be concerned.  Even though she had thought about doing this all last night, running over what she would say and what she would do, the reality of it was unfamiliar territory.  She was flying blind, attempting to find anything that could point her in the right direction.  

Finding a bit of courage left, she glanced back into her eyes, crystal blue and clear.  Within them she saw something new, the knowledge of what he was thinking in this very moment. Without another word or thought, she leapt up the ramp towards him, following all the instincts she had at her disposal.  Throwing her arms around his neck, she crashed her lips to his, a sparkling fuzz running down her spine and into her limbs.  Much differently than last time, Obi-Wan did not hesitate to return her kiss, falling into it along with her.  He held her body to his, pulling her a bit off of the floor and fully into his embrace. Their lips moved as if they had kissed a thousand times, synchronized in each other's affection.  She felt the tickle of his beard against her cheek, his hands gripping her waist tighter as she gasped.  

Breathless, she pulled away, only enough to suck in a gulp of much needed hair.  Obi-Wan did the same, breath uneven and shaky as if he had just been in battle.  Y/N stared into his eyes, watching as their surprise settled into something else, something tender.  A blush had formed upon his cheeks, peeking out from his beard and dotting across his nose.  The rush in her ears was gone, replaced by the low hum of the ship and the soft sound of her hands upon his robes.  She held him tighter, dreading the moment when she would finally have to let go. 

“Will I see you later?” she asked, not bothering to disguise her pleading and desperate tone.  She didn’t know what she was expecting him to do, but his wide grin pleasantly surprised her. 

“Yes,” he said with a long exhale, studying her face.  She grew warm with the attention, even though they had just done much more than look at each other.  Something about his gaze was always so intense, more passionate than she could easily handle.  It was as if flustering her came naturally to him, like he was born to make her shy.

Finally, he slowly set her down, and she relaxed her beskar-like grip she had on his shoulders.  Her hands settled on his chest briefly before falling down at her sides, already missing his touch. She was unsure what to say, but as usual, Obi-Wan was not at a similar loss for words. 

“Perhaps it is the absence, but you’ve grown even more beautiful,” the fondness of his voice did not escape her, bringing about a buzzing feeling in her stomach. 

She felt her knees nearly buckle, growing impossibly weak at his words.  With them, all her fears and worries about herself subsided, and she felt like the most beautiful person in the galaxy.  Forcing herself not to look down at her feet, she gave Obi-Wan a sickly sweet smile, agonized by how much she cared for him in so little time.  He was smiling as well, pleased by her total disarmament.  She longed to tell him how handsome he was, how well he had grown into himself, but she felt the time quickly slipping away.  Knowing he needed to leave soon, she stepped back, still grinning ear to ear.  She bit her lip, giddy with the reemergence of her clandestine romance, now with the promise that Obi-Wan wasn’t gone for good. 

“Be safe,” she said softly, making her way partly down the ramp.  Obi-Wan chuckled, looking self assured as he stood in the entrance of his ship. 

“I always am,” he answered, voice smooth and warm like Gatalentian tea. 

Mustering up every bit of her willpower she had, Y/N turned and walked down the ramp and into the landing platform.  The ramp closed behind her, and she rushed off near the entrance of the Senate building.  She watched as the ship powered up, rising into the air before zooming away all too quickly.  It was bitter to watch him leave, though their parting felt parsecs different than the last time.  From all she knew about him, Obi-Wan was not in the habit of lying, and her chances of seeing him again were close to certain.  With his ship out of sight, Y/N dreamily walked back into the Senate, feeling light as a feather.

[bluecloudsandpinksnow]

strawberry milk (akabane karma x reader)

summary:

He likes it. It’s his favorite brand and you are so good at this ‘communicating’ thing. You’re pretty sure Karma said something after that, but currently, you are on cloud nine and you can barely process the words over your feelings of success.

You would have fist pumped and yelled ‘sublime’ too, had he not waved a hand in front of your face in concern.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re acting kinda- weird?”

Okay, you did not respond fast enough, what did he even say before that? You shake your head and prepare the fastest, most soundproof response you can muster.

“Sorry, I fell down the stairs this morning.” fandom: Assassination Classroom by Yûsei Matsui pairing: akabane karma x gender-neutral! reader warnings: none, unless you count second hand embarrassment notes: - cross posted on ao3 under the same name - first fic ever posted for me, i have more plans n drafts for this universe already but that depends on my motivation lmao - i hope you have as much fun reading as i had writing --- START ---

Mustering up the last bits of courage you can, you pull the two tetra packs from your bag and abruptly stand up.

Unfortunately for you, your chair screeches against the floorboard from the force, and all of your classmates look in your direction.

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck as you quietly mutter out an apology. Thankfully, no one makes a big issue of your disruption and they all return to their own activities.

Now to face the daunting task that’s been plaguing your mind ever since this morning at the train station, where your whimsical decision-making had you convinced that you should totally, definitely, get something for Karma.

You briskly walk across the room, over to where the aforementioned red-headed boy was conversing with Nagisa about some topic you couldn’t process at the moment.

All you want to do is to get to know him better, that’s it. No underlying motives, whatsoever.

“Hey, this is for you.”

You shoved the strawberry milk carton into his hand. A flash of innocent confusion crosses Karma’s face, and you almost let yourself think about how cute of a look it was for someone like him. Before you get to entertain that preposterous thought, he tilts his head in amusement, waiting for an explanation.

“So, uhm- The vending machine! I got lucky, cause it, uhm- it broke, so I got two instead of one- Not that it’s lucky that it broke of course! That’s bad, that has some very bad implications. Uh, you know?” you wave your hands around in an attempt to explain, gesturing to your milk carton as if it would suddenly start talking in your defense.

From the corner of your eye, you see Nagisa giving you a sympathetic smile before grabbing his notebook and gesturing to Karma of his intent to review for the next class.

You were thankful at first, until the realization sunk in that you now have to explain yourself to Karma.

Alone.

No verbal or social support from your peers.

This will be fine. You convince yourself this before the urge to backflip out of the classroom window can overtake you.

“Thanks, I guess? Why the sudden gift, you like me or something?” He teases, because of course he does, and now you have to come up with the reply or he will know that you lied about the vending machine and that there’s some dubious reason as to why you got two strawberry milk cartons that just so happen to be his favorite brand.

Karma cannot know. He absolutely cannot.

“Huh? Psh! Of course not, I just wanted to thank you for helping me last week, you know? Math isn’t my strongest subject and I- what you told me, that shortcut? It just- it’s cool! It really helped me and I felt like I had to thank you. Yeah?” you ramble, and a part of you wishes the ground would collapse beneath your feet just so you could escape this tragedy of a conversation.

You stare awkwardly at Karma, anticipating his response. You swear he looks like he wants to ask what on earth is wrong with you, but maybe it’s just the nerves.

He shrugs, “No biggie. You didn’t need to go through the effort of buying me something just for that one tip.”

He hates it. He thinks you’re weird and over the top. It’s time for you to exile yourself.

“Thanks, though. How’d you know I like this brand anyway?”

He likes it. It’s his favorite brand and you are so good at this ‘communicating’ thing. You’re pretty sure Karma said something after that, but currently, you are on cloud nine and you can barely process the words over your feelings of success.

You would have fist pumped and yelled ‘sublime’ too, had he not waved a hand in front of your face in concern.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re acting kinda- weird?”

Okay, you did not respond fast enough, what did he even say before that? You shake your head and prepare the fastest, most soundproof response you can muster.

“Sorry, I fell down the stairs this morning.”

‘WHO SAYS THAT? WHY DID I SAY THAT?’

You need to pass out right now. Maybe if he thinks you have a concussion you can still salvage your reputation in his eyes. Karma’s eyes widen in concern and you can’t help the butterflies ricocheting in your gut.

“Woah, maybe you should go have that checked with the nurse? I can take you there, I wanna skip class anyway.”

In normal circumstances, you would have reprimanded him for even suggesting that he skip classes and use you as a reason. However, now it is different. Now it is very different when you feel these very dreadful, un-platonic feelings for the redhead.

‘Calm down butterflies, he just suggested a friendly gesture of good, normal, regular, concern.’ You reassure yourself, because if you don’t, you might just blast off into the stratosphere like you were Koro-sensei being complimented by a pretty barista lady.

Karma puts his hand on your shoulder.

‘ÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆ'

You imagine swatting away the butterflies to keep yourself sane, and you try your best to collect an actual, reasonable response this time.

“No, no, it’s fine. Thanks for the concern. A lot of things just happened today, and I’m just a bit overwhelmed. I’m sorry if I’m acting strange.” you speak slower than you did prior, and you find yourself more composed.

Well, as composed as you can be considering Karma still has his hand on your shoulder. You bow your head in shame, not being able to meet his eyes.

He scoffs in amusement, “Hey, don’t worry about it, and really, thanks for the strawberry milk.”

You look up at him and sigh in relief, thankful that he doesn’t think you’re completely insane. He gives your shoulder another pat before moving his hand off to pry the straw from the back of his tetra pack.

“No problem! Thanks again too, for helping me last week.”

A big part of you is relieved that he took his hand off of your shoulder so your heart rate could normalize itself, but a tinier, more delusional part of your brain feels disappointed that he had to pull his hand away at all.

You move to turn and walk away, but Karma speaks again.

“Hey, if you’re still feeling overwhelmed, you can always skip class with me. We can just tell Koro-sensei you weren’t feeling well.” he offers, and it takes every ounce of sense in you to not just accept it then and there. Especially not when you meet his eyes and see them light up with mischief.

You have to be reasonable. Doing so just to entertain your silly little infatuation would disappoint Koro-sensei and tarnish your good record. You can find more excuses to spend time with him without breaking the school rules.

“No thank you, it’s okay. I think I’ll just go to the bathroom and wash my face. I appreciate the concern though.” You nod your head and flash Karma a light smile, to which he shrugs and moves to sit at his desk, drinking the strawberry milk you gave him.

You move to make your way out of the classroom, and you see Nakamura smirk at you. She was probably watching you make a fool out of yourself in front of Karma, and you know for a fact she will tease you about that horrid display of human interaction later. You squint your eyes at her, daring her to laugh or say something, to which she just smiles at you wider and you swear you can see devil horns form on her head.

Nakamura held her phone up while you were walking past. You gape slightly in frustration as you realize what she had shown you.

She had recorded your god awful attempt at giving Karma the strawberry milk. There was physical evidence of it for others to witness.

The worst part? There was physical evidence of it for Koro-sensei to witness.

You quickly stomp into the bathroom and turn on the sink, shoving your face into your hands before you let out an exasperated groan.

There was no living this down for you.

You just hoped Karma wouldn’t take the news so harshly if he found out.

---END---

Thanks for reading! :DDD

[cuddlyjongho]

I absolutely love how you write jongho but I'm a few years older than him- is there in any way that you write him with a noona reader (someone who is older/respectful) doesn't have to be smutty I just need him to be flabbergasted by a lady

- raccoon anon

just kiss me already

idol!jongho x fem!reader

warnings: kinda smutty (?), suggestive, make out session

a/n - omg thank you so so much!! i don’t even do this properly, like i’m not a writer or anything i just started to post my thoughts when i was drunk one night lmao! so knowing that people are actually liking what i write is amazing 🥹 this is also my first ever request so it probably won’t be great but i will try my best for you! ❤️

there you were, at the concert you’ve been dreaming of attending for years. you finally get to see your favourite group, which also means you get to see your favourite person, jongho, for the first time too. you managed to get a front row ticket and although you didn’t think you’d get any interactions with ateez you still outdid yourself with your outfit - all black, sophisticated and sexy.

halfway through the concert jongho comes over to your side of the stage. he scans the front row and his eyes finally land on you, the moment you wanted so bad to happen. inside you were dying of excitement but you kept yourself composed and gave him the biggest smile. he smiled back and gave you a quick wink before he ran back to the group to start the choreo for the next song. your heart skipped a beat and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks.

jongho kept glancing over to you for the rest of the concert until they finished the last song, left the stage, and the lights turned back on in the arena. everyone around you was still losing their minds and you just sat there with a big smile on your face in disbelief with the attention you got from jongho.

as everyone was filtering out of the arena you started to get up to go too when a member of staff tapped you on the arm. you looked at them and they said to follow them. you were instantly scared, thinking you had done something wrong. they took you through a couple hallways backstage and then to a door. the member of staff said to go in. so you did just that, not knowing what you were getting yourself into.

as you stepped into the room, your eyes immediately met jongho’s. he got up from the sofa he was seated on and greeted you with a huge gummy smile. “oh my god… is this real?” you ask. he giggles and replies “yes, it is! i actually asked our manager to bring you backstage. i hope that’s okay with you?” “of course it’s okay!!” he giggled again in response. “you really caught my eye in the crowd for some reason, maybe it was because you were so calm and composed, you really stood out from the rest.” he explains. “well, if i had seen you when i was a teenager things would’ve been different, i would’ve been screaming your ears off.” you both laugh, “…but now that i’m in my late 20’s i’ve been enjoying concerts more when i’m relaxed and able to take everything in without just losing my mind”. you both laugh with each other again.

after talking for a little while, you notice that you’re both sitting a lot closer than you were before. you both look at each other, no words spoken… until, “you’re so hot” you accidentally blurt out. jongho then breaks eye contact, looking down at his fidgeting hands and giggling like a teenager with a crush, a rosy red colour creeping up into his cheeks. “please don’t tell me that i’m making THE choi jongho blush right now?!” you say to him. he looks back up at you and says, “is it bad if you are?” “not at all, i just didn’t know i had it in me to get you in this state” you reply.

a few minutes later, you notice him looking down to your lips every so often as you carry on the conversation. you wonder whether you should make a move, or even if he’s thinking about you in that way, but then you think of how he literally got his manager to pick you out of the crowd and bring you backstage for him. it’s not just a chat he wants right? he looks at your lips once again, so you say “with the way you keep looking at my lips it makes it look like you wanna kiss me”. “what if i do?” jongho replies quicker than you could process what he just said.

you suddenly put your arms around his neck and begin to kiss him. he leans into the kiss, putting his hands on your waist. you move closer, not breaking the kiss at all, and end up straddling his lap. you hear him softly moan into the kiss, still not believing you have this effect on him. you pull away, both of you panting for air. he bites his lip, moving his hands to your hips. he pushes you down into his lap, making you aware of what you’re *really* doing to him. you gasp and smirk, leaning in for another deep kiss.

just as both of your hands start roaming around each other’s bodies there’s a loud knocking on the door. “it’s almost time to go back to the hotel, jongho” a voice says. he looks at you and asks, “wanna come back to my hotel room to finish what we started, beautiful?” “fuck yes” you say, making both of you giggle.

let’s just say that it was a long night for you both. and enjoyable one at that.