[florsials]

WHAT? | S.REID ⋆˚࿔

summary : dr. spencer reid was always just your very good friend—that was until you watched him slip on an awfully tight pair of latex gloves while working on a case together.

pairing : spencer reid x bau agent!reader

warnings : SMUT, friends/coworkers to lovers, sexual fantasies, reader is just fucking horny (aka in love) but is in denial, explicit but short descriptions of fingering and finger sucking, spencer’s just as much desperate for the reader ‘cause who are we kidding, suggestive ending

notes : i thank the amazing @haydenssweetheart for introducing & promoting the spencer reid agenda

© FLORSIALS

when you had first joined the behavioral analysis unit a year ago as the latest rookie, the team had teased the possibility of spencer and you becoming a “we” almost instantly.

the bright, genius young man was only a couple years your senior—leading to teasing remarks made by agent morgan and garcia about how you two should just shut up and kiss… and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about stealing just that from pretty boy reid.

platonically, of course!

you were just curious about how his mouth, the culprit behind his many informational ramblings, would feel against yours. there was no harm in that! right? that is to say, there was nothing unusual about you two being too physically and emotionally close with one another: you’d nap beside each other—fingers intertwined to “keep warm”—on the jet plane back home to quantico after an across-the-nation case, or would share doctor germaphobe’s lunch during the team’s one and only break in between searching for the unsub. just normal, friendly behavior as you’d like to call it—he’d even agree with you!

however, as the days passed and seasons changed, you began to see your very good friend in a new light… but it was still purely platonic! spencer reid could never be more than only your bestest friend in the whole world—that would be logically impossible… but the thought of it suggested that it’d be nice, like really nice.

so here you were now, outside of the latest victim’s residence after hotch sent you and reid to look for evidence that could direct the team in finding the unsub before he could strike again.

shrugging your fbi jacket off of your shoulders and onto the couch to accompany spencer’s satchel, you looked over at him to see what he was up to. ever so the loather against bacteria, he rummaged through the pockets of his pants for a pair of gloves and all you could do was a raise a brow at his franticness.

he breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled out four gloves, a set for you without even asking him to. “my lifesaver,” you winked as you snagged it from him—fingers brushing against his—earning a playful eye roll. “and yet you were here, judging me like a germ-loving weirdo.”

after putting them on swiftly, you turned your head over to spencer to see him struggling with slipping the small gloves on his hands—but no, it wasn’t his clumsiness and strenuous effort to fit them that had you staring at him all wide eyed... it was the sight of the latex hugging his veins tight enough that they were visible through the gloves.

his grunts of frustration had you subconsciously biting your lip before realizing you were ogling at his fingers like a freak—imagining them being sucked into your sopping wet cunt, absurdly deep and hitting that perfect spot against your cervix; or how perfect they’d fit inside your mouth, tongue swirling around and reveling in the taste of him. clearing your throat and attempting to find anywhere else to keep your eyes fixated on, you couldn’t help but let them drift back at his hands as they flex against the latex.

this time, spencer witnessed you staring at him with your mouth parted as if you were about to say a witty joke, “what?”

“nothing! let’s just head inside,” you averted your gaze quickly, truly and absolutely mortified by being caught red handed in the act, “hotch is expecting us in an hour.” he pursed his lips together, nodding in agreement, “right, we oughta get to it then.

once the day at work concluded, which consisted of receiving peculiar glances across the room by none other than spencer reid even hours following what took place at the victim’s home, you found yourself rushing to the curb to flag down a taxi cab and escape—only to be cornered by yours truly.

foregoing the niceties he ever so upheld each time, he took a step forward, breath now fanning across your face. before you could even get the chance to ask what in god’s name he’s doing this close to you where lips are almost touching, he asked begged, “tell me that this is all in my head… please. i’m going crazy just trying to figure out if you’ve thought about this, us, too.”

“spence.”

“god, i’m a profiler for the fbi but i can’t decode you.”

without a moment’s hesitation, you tilt your face up to his as you leant in to capture reid’s lips into a far overdue kiss—after months of pent up longing and denial of feelings. you felt his mouth still against yours in pure astonishment, the moment feeling too surreal for him, but then you felt spencer smile into your lips—reciprocating it with just as much fervor.

it was getting harder to kiss with the clashing of teeth, the both of you a grinning and giggling mess as you kissed under the streetlight outside of the fbi academy.

pulling away with closed eyes, you savored the imprint of his lips on yours. when they finally opened to meet his piercing gaze, a very flustered you cringed at the sight of your red lipstick messily smudged and leaving stains all over his chin and mouth. he seemed to catch on, his fingertips tracing the marks with a teasing glint in his eye, “how do i look?” the expression on your face faked contemplation before stealing another peck from him, “handsome as hell.”

adjusting the collar of his coat as his arms found solace in being wrapped around your waist, spencer guided you down to his car in the parking lot while pressing passionate kisses across your jaw like a boy so in love.

and he was.

[florsials]

RECONCILING WITH JAMES KELLY

you haven’t heard from your now ex-boyfriend in weeks, the last time was when you sent him on his way out of your life during a late night fight.

it’d be a lie if you said you hadn’t missed the way he’d chuckle at your naivety about cars, or how he’d smother you with his biceps when all tangled up together in bed, or how his voice filled the quietness your apartment now nursed.

all of your heart missed the little things he would do when he was still your man—but you were sure you were just a mere afterthought in his mind. that was JAMES KELLY’s nature. he never cared and why would he start now when everything was in ruins?

so it came as a shock when his boss at lewis’ auto had phoned you early one thursday morning, calling that james hadn’t come into the shop for the past few days with a heads up and that he’d been slacking off way before. there was no better way in finding out you were still listed as his emergency contact.

with a groan of frustration that veiled the anxiety coursing through your veins, you shrugged a coat on and hailed a cab to his house on the other end of town. as you approached his front porch, knocking on the door twice, you whispered a prayer under your breath—hoping he was all right. when you didn’t hear movement from the opposite side, your knuckles began to rap against the wood, fear settling in.

“james, it’s me,” you hesitantly announced, “are you there?” nothing but the sound of silence, and it kills you slowly… but then you heard some shuffling, then a groan, then the latch lock opening. he peeked out from the sliver he creaked open, heavily guarded as he was still hungover from his endless night of drinking. once he fully revealed himself to you in the doorway, you practically launched yourself onto him—arms wrapping around his chiseled chest and into a hug.

“fuck, you’re all right, you’re okay,” face hiding into the crook of his neck, he smelled of tobacco and beer. though instead of annoyance seeping into your mind, it was relief and warmth—familiarity. james stilled in your hold before he melted into your tight embrace, his hand fisting onto the back of your head to make sure this was real—and it was.

“you’re here,” he sighed contentedly, as if the wind got knocked out of him when you surged forward at him. “i’m here,” you affirmed, “for as long as you’ll have me.”

“can it be forever?”

“yes, i’d like that very much.”

for @haydenssweetheart , @h4yden-skywalker , @mark-renton-luvr , @mythicalcowboyatheart , @akan3aoi — 🏷️ (comment below to join the taglist!)

[florsials]

TELLING JAMES KELLY THAT HE MAKES YOU MISERABLE

© FLORSIALS

the living room was filled with the echoing of your tired pleas and his defensive yelling, a chaotic combination when it came to you two.

in all honesty, you didn’t even know how the fight started. could it be how he always smelled of cigarettes or beer whenever he came over after working? or how he had taken another late shift at lewis’ auto without giving a heads up? maybe it was because he had another long string of complaints to say about his day before greeting you—his girlfriend—with a kiss?

but all you knew is that words you both will regret tomorrow morning tainted their mouths, not holding back the pent up frustration leading to this moment.

“do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be with someone who doesn’t even seem to want me?”

“i do want you!”

“then why? why blow me off minutes before our date nights? why always introduce me as a ‘good friend’ to others? why drop my hand and not defend me against your coworkers’ lame comments about our relationship? why don’t you care whenever some random guy is trying to hit on your fucking girlfriend? why treat me the way you do, like i’m someone not worth fighting for?”

“baby, you know i’m not good at relationships. you knew that from the start,” he sniggered, attempting to lighten the atmosphere between you two; however, your stoic face had him swallowing his pride. “you know i do…” his voice trailed off, chest tightening when the word is at the tip of his tongue but cannot be said.

“see? you can barely even say it!” a laugh escaped your lips in disbelief, your hands on your hip as you looked away from the man standing across from you—the man whom you loved with your whole heart, soul, and mind. “that’s unfair,” james argued, “you know it fuckin’ is.”

“what’s not fair is that you expect me to act like your girlfriend whenever you need me to be, but you can’t even treat me like one,” anger and disappointment laced your voice, emotions he’d never seen from you before, “you make me fucking miserable.”

“don’t fucking say that,” he inched closer, longing to snap you out of your rageful haze, “you don’t mean that.”

“oh i fucking do. you make my life harder than it already is,” your glare doesn’t falter, sending shivers down his spine from how very real this was. “if i make it so much harder, i should just leave, huh?”

you paused for a second, eyes betraying your fury as your breath hitched before responding, “please do! let’s get it over with.”

“fine then, if that’s what you want. your fuckin’ wish is my command.”

with one final look, he took off, the door slamming shut behind him as he trudged out of your new orleans apartment.

for @haydenssweetheart , @h4yden-skywalker , @mark-renton-luvr , @mythicalcowboyatheart — 🏷️ (comment below to join the taglist!)

[florsials]

WILLIAM BEEMAN AND HIS BREEDING KINK

warnings : SMUT, breeding kink, swearing, unprotected piv (always practice safe sex, it prevents unwanted pregnancy and stops the spread of STDs/STIs!)

© FLORSIALS

after countless nights of screaming matches and a near divorce, your husband had the epiphany that he’d rather give up his dream of having kids than losing the woman he loved with his whole being and soul.

the dawn before their final court date, he had dropped to his knees and begged for you to stop packing up, not wanting you to leave—and after a long and deep conversation where you clung onto each other with tears in eyes, you both made the final yet certain decision to stay.

however, a few days later when you were strolling around town square, you had encountered a sweet little boy who appeared to be lost. the poor toddler waddled his way over to you while you were picking out fresh fruit from the farmer’s market, his lip quivering as he attempted to ask where his mommy and daddy was. eventually, you helped in reuniting him with his parents—but it came with one consequence, a feeling you’d never felt before…

baby fever.

so here you were, WILLIAM BEEMAN eliciting breathless sighs and obscene whines from your lips with the deep rolls of his hips, completely oblivious to your fierce desires of bearing his baby.

you were lost in the pleasure and sensation of him making love to you bareback as you arched off the mattress, causing a change in the angle of his thrusts. he swore he’d never been this hard before, aroused from how you practically pounced on him once you had arrived home from town.

this was heaven on earth for him.

unable to hold himself back, he bowed his head down to suckle on various areas of your bare skin, groaning from how you squirmed under the touch of his lips. “so fuckin’ beautiful, my love.” when he had finally reached your stomach, pressing tender kisses over the valley where a baby—his baby—would grow, your composure and restraint shattered from the piercing gaze of his eyes.

he was pounding into your tight, wet cunt now—his rough hands pressing your thighs close against your chest so you could feel all of him as he coaxed you towards your climax. “will, fuck,” you slurred and bit your bottom lip in an attempt to regain control over your incoherent words; but when the head of his cock kissed your cervix, a broken moan escaped your quivering mouth. “so cockdrunk f’me, baby. your pussy really missed me this much?”

becoming a whimpering mess, you draped your arms across the bridge of his neck and tugged him close to your face, sharing a single breath, “want you to make me a mommy.”

will stills for a second, not knowing if he heard you right; however, when he saw the look of pure desperation tainted across your face, his heart almost bursts at the seams in realization. you now wanted needed this as much as he did.

“does my pretty, little wife want to be filled to the brim with my cum, huh? to make her all swollen with my child?” his fingers squished your face together, forcing you to look straight into his eyes when you reply, “please.”

with a couple final thrusts, your husband groaned as he spilled into you—a satisfied smile ghosting over your collarbone when his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. after catching his breath, william rolled you both over so you were now laying side by side and facing one another. as he cradled your rosy cheeks in his hands with such reverence, his forehead met yours, keeping you close to him.

“did you mean what you said,” he sucked in a breath, afraid that you only said it in the heat of the moment and might take it back, “about me making you a mommy?” your eyes softened as you brought one of his hands up to your lips, affectionately kissing his palm before intertwining his fingers with yours. “i meant every word. i know i had some doubts in the beginning, but i’m sure now. i want this, i want this with you—to grow a family together.”

he captured your lips into a chaste kiss, short and sweet, “words can never express how in love i am with you,” will brushed his nose against yours, overwhelmed with gratitude.

“and to think we were on the verge of divorce because i wasn’t ready yet,” a chuckle slipped past your mouth as you held his entrancing gaze, “all it took was a stray toddler.”

“one lost, little boy, and now my wife wants babies… guess i’ll have to fuck one into you until it happens.”

for @haydenssweetheart 🏷️ : @h4yden-skywalker — (comment below to join the taglist!)

[florsials]

okay,

Anakin Skywalker x reader where he is obsessed with her, and he confessed and reader confesses back and then he dives on her and tackles her pining her on the grass or bed or whatever ( you choose ) and he just peppers sweet ( not sexual ) kisses everywhere like all over her face, neck, hands etc…

hypertension | a. skywalker

pairing : brother’s friend!pediatrician!anakin skywalker x kenobi!resident!reader

summary : the start of your secret romantic trysts with anakin skywalker, your brother’s best friend, before he leaves for medical school and you leave for college.

warnings : kissing, swearing, mentions of drinking and drunkness,

notes : saw this request and automatically thought of this as a prequel to my doctor!anakin fic (aka my baby), also this is slightly diverged from the original prompt.

© FLORSIALS

anakin stiffly approached the foot of his bed, watching as the early morning woke you up from slumber. the night before, he had picked up a very intoxicated you from a bar in downtown coruscant, concerned from the voicemail you’d left on his phone sent near one in the morning.

“i wish you were here right now, ani. i already miss you even though medical school hasn’t taken you away from me yet.”

when his car pulled up to the address you gave him, you immediately noticed the anger yet relief that traced his face—and it was very him.

as he carried you into the passenger’s seat of his car, after much of your drunken protesting against it, you gave him this look that made his heart skip a beat and his words die in his throat. before he could even whisper a word, the alcohol took over and you blacked out in his strong hold.

so here you were now, gazing into his azure eyes as you succumbed to the consequences your little rendezvous gave you: a massive hangover and not laying in your own bed.

at first, you were stunned when you woke to anakin handing you a painkiller and a glass of water—half expecting your brother instead—but once you realized you were in his apartment, the tenseness in your shoulders relaxed almost immediately, immense relief flooding your veins with a smile.

it was anakin.

apparently, you had begged him to not take you home—afraid of what obi-wan, might say—well… lecture, rather—in response to your state; therefore he drove you to his own instead.

“how d’you feel?” he inched closer, making your breath hitch at the little to none space left between you both. “like i’ve been brutally attacked. everything hurts,” your whining had him chuckling to himself as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind you ear to have a better view of your flushed face. “should’ve thought about that before getting absolutely shitfaced,” anakin teased before quietly adding, “at least you’re still cute though,” under his breath.

your lips parted in response to his admission. surely, your childhood crush and brother’s friend didn’t just say you were cute when hungover or sober? right? you mentally brushed his words off, believing it was you hearing things and your wild imagination.

“you’ll make a good doctor, anakin,” clearing your throat and looking down at your twiddling thumbs, you redirected the conversation. “really? i only helped you with a hangover,” he laughs, not expecting that line coming from you of all people. “but still, there’s like this softness to you whenever you’re helping others. it’s sweet and definitely the skill you need if working with kids, mister future pediatrician.”

“truth be told, i’m only this soft when it comes to you.”

“aren’t you nervous, y’know? medical school’s a huge deal,” you suddenly said, choosing to be oblivious to his many hints to save yourself from the embarrassment of being wrong about this. “a bit. i’m more scared of the fact that i won’t have enough time for myself—i mean, i was barely even able to see my mom in tatooine while doing undergrad. imagine for the people in coruscant when campus is only a minutes walk away. i’m not certain for the future.”

“well, two things are for sure though: obi-wan will miss you…” you paused, recollecting your breath, “and i’ll miss you.”

“the look you gave me last night, when i carried you to my car—what were you trying to say? what did it mean?” anakin rubbed a hand over his face, as if your response would make or break him.”

“i love you.”

without a second thought, his lips sought to claim yours in a kiss, gently pinning you down on his bed as he hovered atop of you. feeling your arm hook around his neck, anakin grinned into the kiss while his fingers found yours and intertwined them together. he was so irrevocably in love with you, but he couldn’t confess it—not yet; therefore he instead settled on soaking in this moment after years of pining over his friend’s sister.

“obi-wan mustn’t know about this, about us,” he then brought your hand to his mouth, placing soft kisses across your knuckles. “us?”

“yes. us.”

and the second you had willingly complied to your secret trysts, just happy to finally have him, that was the start of the beginning of an end.

for @haydenssweetheart & @mark-renton-luvr for the req 🏷️ : @h4yden-skywalker — (comment below to join the taglist!)

[florsials]

this was all for you | a. skywalker

pairing : anakin skywalker x reader

summary : witnessing your beloved husband abandon everything you both fought for, blinded by the dark side of the force.

warnings : angst, angst, angst, oh and more angst! — force choking, mentions of pregnancy

notes : not a full fic, but i just HAD to write about an ani angst prequel to an upcoming fic… (that i may be writing at this very moment)

© FLORSIALS

mustafar was far from cold, but learning what your husband had done sent shivers down your spine. holding your head in your hands as you watched the volcanic scenery of the planet, you sighed deeply to yourself before unlocking the ship to meet who had replaced the anakin you knew.

as you walked off the ship with dread turning in your stomach and making you feel sick, your legs sped up once you spotted him striding towards you in determination to caress his wife. your name fell from his lips like a prayer, but there was no longer warmth laced in his voice—confirming what obi-wan had revealed to you just moments before. he could sense your hesitation and wariness through the force, though he excused it for nerves about the baby you carried.

“my love, i’m so glad you’re all right,” his arms engulfed you, allowing you to breathe in his scent for what may be the last time, “i saw your ship land from the distance.” clinging onto his embrace before reluctantly letting go, you tried to wish away all that had happened, to wake up from this nightmare where everything you fought for had fallen. however under this light, there was a darkness in his eyes you couldn’t explain and didn’t recognize: it terrified you.

“maker, i heard horrific things. they told me terrible, terrible things, anakin,” you choked on your words, feeling your pulse rush from just bringing it up, “that you killed younglings, that you were seduced by the dark side of the force. tell me it isn’t true, that you’re still here with me: the ani i know and fell deeply for back on naboo. all i want is your love, it’s more than enough for me.”

“love won’t save you. only my new powers will,” the implication that he did do such monstrosities tore at your heartstrings, you no longer recognized the man that smiled and stood before you, “don’t you see? this was all for you.”

“what have you done?,” stepping back with fear now seen clearly in your eyes, you violently shook your head in denial, “i don’t know who you are anymore.”

“it’s still me, i’m still your ani, i’m still your husband.”

“my husband wouldn’t do this. he is with the jedi, he is in alliance with the republic—for democracy,” as he stepped closer into your space, anakin reached out for you with his gloved hand, “chancellor palpatine has poisoned your view, and it’s breaking my heart. think about everything we’ve fought for.”

“enough. you’re either with me, or against me,” his voice grew increasingly annoyed at your hopeless pleas. there was no changing him now. all he sought to do now was save you from death.

“anakin, come back to me,” you had never seen your husband this lost and emotionally isolated before, and it killed you, “there’s still good in you, i can feel it. leave the order, leave everything behind, and we can our child together away from all the noise. i love you.”

and those were the last words you had spoken to your husband, everything going pitch blank as you felt your throat tighten and get squeezed out of air.

when it came to anakin skywalker, to love him was to suffer him.

for @haydenssweetheart 🏷️ : @h4yden-skywalker — (comment below to join the taglist!)

[florsials]

you know i’d do anything for you | h. christensen

pairing : actor!husband!hayden christensen x actress!reader

summary : finding your way back to hayden weeks after your “break up”.

warnings : angst, fluff, references to “waco, texas” by ethel cain (self-explanatory i fear)

notes : writing another part to my favourite series, costar sweethearts, to my favourite ethel cain song

© FLORSIALS

staring out into the rainy scenery, the freezing wind sending shivers down your spine, you felt completely numb as everything soaked in.

is that how the end of a whirlwind romance feels like? completely and utterly hollow?

the place where his pendant used to dangle from the chain around your neck was switched out for a meaningless pearl one that you found deep in your jewelry box. it provided you no warmth, not like the hermes “h” necklace hayden bought you a month in into the relationship.

on midnights like this, you missed him dearly and deeply—and nothing would subside the ache that conjured in your heart. hayden latched himself onto your domestic life—lazy sunday mornings tangled in bedsheets together, trips to the local farmers market to buy ingredients for breakfast, swaying to the tune of old vinyl records he collects in the living room whenever the world got too loud—but he was long gone now, leaving an indent where his love once was.

hovering over his contact that still donned the silly, little nickname you gave him late one night, you slammed your flip phone shut with frustration coursing through your veins. as you raked your fingers through your hair and paced around the bedroom, you weren’t sure if you should break weeks of growing rust between telephones during one night of weakness. was it truly worth it to lose significant progress in moving on in the hopes that you hear his voice once more—even if it was just his voicemail log?

though the very thought petrified you—what if he no longer wanted anything to do with you: what would happen to the last installment of the prequel trilogy if you both he couldn’t bear to be around one another you behind the camera and while filming scenes? what would happen to the genuine friendship you nurtured with him before it manifested into something more emotionally and physically intimate?

was he angry at you?

did he hate you?

you weren’t sure of anything at all, but you were so sure that you still loved hayden. christ, you’ve never stopped loving him even when it was considered “over”—and truth be told, you both didnt know why the relationship ended that dreaded night. too many arguments? too few arguments? busy schedules? so many possibilities and you couldn’t pinpoint it; not because it was all of the above, but because there was no apparent reason at all. you just did.

the sound of your cheery ringtone snapped you out of your trance-like state of mind. hope surged in your heart, silently begging for it to be him who’s calling, but it was only your agent reminding you of some random film premiere you should attend to gain traction for the upcoming star wars film in a few months from now. after humming mindlessly to every word echoed from the speaker, you hesitantly flipped your phone off and held it close to your heart. not even in business calls can you escape him.

knowing you couldn’t sleep afterwards, you shuffled into living room and sprawled out on the sofa with a book in hand—one you didn’t remember was in your collection. as you read the blurb and skimmed through the pages, a sudden knock at your front door had your face contorting in confusion and slight annoyance. weird, it was nearing midnight.

lazily rising from the settee, you drew your hair back all to one side as you cautiously turned the knob. taking a peek through the little sliver you cracked open to reveal yourself to the indigo night sky, your breath caught in your throat at the familiar sight of the man you still loved with all of your heart.

“hayden?”

“i’m sorry. i know it’s late right now,” he started before you cut him off as you leaned against the door frame, arms crossing over your chest when all you wanted to do was pull him into you like always when you wanted to shut him up. “yeah, it’s nearing midnight.”

“always with that smart mouth i love.” love? you couldn’t chuckle along with him, not yet—you needed to know why he was standing right at your door. “why are you here?” voice breaking at the end of your simple yet powerful question, he took an unwavering step forward towards your figure to answer.

“because i love you.”

tears prickled the back of your eyes as you gazed into his sincere azure irises, the very ones that captivated you every time. your fingers found their way to the fallen curls of hair that obstructed his face, and you pushed them behind his ear before cupping his cold cheek in your warm palm. when you felt him nuzzle in closer to your touch, finding solace in them, that was when the dam broke.

leaning forward so your foreheads touched, despite how much taller he was, your lips found themselves pressed against hayden’s after weeks of being led astray from one another. it wasn’t reciprocated immediately however, his brain buffering for a second at the familiar feeling he never thought he’d experience again. with a laugh, he grinned into the kiss as you practically dragged him into your foyer.

both clumsily collapsing onto the sofa, you toppled over him and giggled into his shoulder. “my love,” hayden’s hands tilted your face up to meet his eyes, and he couldn’t help the downturned smile that swept his face as affection radiated off of him—capturing your mouth into another kiss.

“i missed you so, so much—i love you so, so much,” you whispered against his lips.

“i love you more.”

your arms dangled over his neck as he switched positions, you underneath him now, “not possible. i’d rather die than be anything but your girl.”

he endearingly shushed you, caressing your flushed cheeks and drying them of tears you didn’t even know began to fell, “i’m here now. and for the record, i’d do anything for you.”

you knew that it’s true because he’d said it to you.

for @haydenssweetheart 🏷️ : @h4yden-skywalker — (comment below to join the taglist!)

[florsials]

fuck me eyes | s. barringer

pairing : scott barringer x reader

summary : way long before you—or even scott—showed up at mount horizon, you’d known each other from some regular high school located in the middle of the northwest. he was the star wide receiver everyone was convinced would have a future in a division one league college, while you were the town’s “good girl” gone promiscuous. when you are forcibly sent to mount horizon after being undeniably hungover and high at the sunday church service, you find yourself being the center of an old acquaintance’s attention.

warnings : mentions of drug & alcohol abuse, prostitution, semi-graphic description of sexual assault & rape, swearing/vulgar language, gossip, misogyny, certain topics are not suited for all audiences so please read at your own risk or scroll past

notes : i’m leaving this as an open ended ending bc im definitely writing a part two that dives more into their blossoming relationship (which may be soon…)

© FLORSIALS

your nails were still stained heartbreak red from when you had freshly painted them on a few nights ago, slightly chipped on the sides as you shiver through the cold wilderness of mount horizon high school.

being here was way out of your plans—especially when you had your hair up to god and were in your mom’s old jeans that you cut to show off your ass. stumbling in your high heels as dried leaves and twigs crunched under your weight, a woman who had introduced herself as sophie wraps you in a windbreaker jacket to keep yourself warm from the howling wind—which was also a very obvious, and what you called pathetic, attempt to cover your skimpy clothes up from the other touch starved teenage students.

this was supposed to be your new “home” for the next foreseeable future, a place where your father knew you’d finally get clean at. no cigarettes, no alcohol, and certainly no drugs. mount horizon was quite the living manifestation of hell for you. it granted you no way to numb your pain, the sole reason why you turned to abusive behaviors in the first place, forcing you to confront your emotions head on through self reflective hiking trips or group sessions led by sophie and peter. you didn’t want to talk; that was the last thing you ever want to do.

but at least it wasn’t fucking rehab.

as you were led into peter’s office, he kindly urged you to take a seat across from his desk, next to a girl around your age. she had a wide grin across her face, something you couldn’t quite believe a person could do in a place like this. “this is juliette. she’ll be your first-week buddy and will help get you settled in.” she offered a short, little wave before letting peter continue on with the rules the school implements for its students. his “sermon” was boring to say the least, finding yourself zoning out a couple of times despite how short it was.

“and with that, jules, you’re free to show our newest cliffhanger around,” watching as sophie and peter shuffle out of his office, juliette follows suit and you trail right behind her. as you tugged your unzipped jacket over your chest, the withdrawals and taste of sobriety finally hits you. you already felt exposed, and you loathed that feeling.

“cute heels!” the girl exclaimed cheerfully beside you, furrowing your brows at the sound of her shrill voice. “thanks,” you shrugged and brushed a stray strand of hair that was blowing in the wind away from your line of vision, “think i can go hiking in these?” she slightly winced and rolled her eyes at your sarcastic tone, quipping back with another comment.

eventually, you found yourself getting along with this chick as she showed you around the campus—deeming her somewhat “cool” to a certain extent and a hundred times more better than those stuck-up girls back at home.

“so, can i ask why your parents sent you here?”

“daddy thinks i have a little too much fun with the no-no pills and booze, so much so that i showed up to morning mass higher than life and wasted,” you sucked in a breath for dramatic effect, somewhat mocking yourself for how everything turned out, “try it sometime. quite the experience.”

“i bet,” juliette chokes out a laugh in amusement before letting her eyes wander over your clothing behind the overly large windbreaker sophie handed you—well, lack thereof. “and the outfit?”

“from the night before,” tittering to yourself at the memory of your whereabouts when getting around town in your old cadillac, you bit your lips to hide your teasing grin, “had lots of fun.”

however, your playfulness fades shortly after seeing a recognizable mess of blonde curls standing just a few feet away. scott barringer. before you could even divert your gaze, he somehow timed himself perfectly to meet your eyes when he turned his head north. his expression was laced with pure horror and ahock, never expecting to see a familiar face end up here with him—let alone yours.

“well look who it is,” the boy scoffed, approaching you with a smug look in his eye, “the town skank. sorry, but we have a no sex rule here—that includes prostitution.”

“very funny, scotty barringer—or should i say, all-star druggie? actually no, dopey has a nicer ring to it!”

“wait, you guys know each other?”

“unfortunately. ‘ve known mister pothead since grade school.” he shoots you an annoyed facial expression mixed with disgust at the mention of your guys’ past, “yeah, that was before our sanctimonious treasure became a slut—oh and not just any slut actually, the slut. what you do with all that mouth, huh?”

“give you somethin’ to cry about,” you pouted mockingly, inching closer to him, “how’s that football scholarship going, scotty? oh right, our greatest wide receiver was thrown off the team for getting busy being high rather than showing up to practice! feel free to kiss those college scouts ‘buh-bye.’”

“you’d know all about kissing-” he’s interrupted by auggie tugging on his shirt, “meat, cool off. jules, go ahead and get her outta here before scott does somethin’ he regrets.” juliette instantly ushered you inside into the girls dormitory, far away from his proximity.

trudging in with a sigh, she dramatically fell against the closed door with relief, “that was intense. are you guys always like that?” you shrugged, leaning your head back onto the painted plaster, “ever since the summer before our sophomore year. we got along just fine before; but, i guess after the gossip our town had spread about me, there’s no doubt that he’d heard about it. i mean, he called me a skank and basically everything in between.”

“what were they saying about you? was it really that bad?” her eyes overflowed with concern, studying your face for any crack in your resolve. there was none. “don’t worry about it, princess, don’t worry.”

the next couple of months went by like a blur down at horizon.

the cliffhangers had tried luring you out of your shell, wishing for you to open up to the group after knowing them for a while—yet you couldn’t do it. you didn’t have it in you. no one could know why you turned to destructive behaviors, why you turned to abusing pills and liquor bottles to get blackout drunk and repress yourself from the pains of reality. however, you couldn’t escape those terrors at dawn—where you’re unconscious and dreaming, like a scare creeping up on you.

the night where an older man had taken advantage of your fourteen year old self was burnt into your mind, replaying in your head like a torturous broken record even in your sleep. you had tried everything in your power to forget about the way you begged him not to with mascara-stained tears falling from your eyes, how his cold fingers tightened around your wrist when you had tried to push him away with all the strength you could summon, and how he had pinned the blame on you—manipulating everyone into thinking that you’d seduce the married man and labeling you as a homewrecking whore hidden behind the “sweetheart” facade.

everything fell apart. your present. your future. there was nothing left for you after realizing that there was no use in arguing for your innocence—about how you were taken advantage of in a dark parking lot. even your father hadn’t known the truth, you couldn’t bring yourself to go through the shame and embarrassment of confessing—so you turned to drugs and drinking for comfort, along with having sex.

you saw it as a way to reclaim your autonomy, but it never really did help. it just made you numb.

as you entered into your third month at mount horizon, not one person had ever gotten close to figuring out about your past, except peter. accidentally letting it slip in the midst of an argument about you not taking anything seriously, his eyes widened at the shocking revelation and questioned you further for more details. you had denied it at first, before curling up in a fetal position and sobbing on the floor of his office—swearing it wasn’t your fault.

so here you were now, walking outdoors to meet your father in the flesh—after three months of rust between telephones and sloppy written letters—because he finally remembered about the daughter he had sent to prison mount horizon.

“dad,” you coldly nodded at him in acknowledgment, before dropping onto the steps beside him with a glare, “fancy seeing you here.” ignoring your obvious gibe at him, he instead asked, “how’re things going on here for you?”, in his best parent voice to try and convince you that he had bothered enough to be here.

“just peachy,” rolling your eyes, you inched slightly away even when you felt a sense of guilt overcome you from your distant nature. that was until he said something that reminded you that he was still your same, ol’ dad who couldn’t care less about your emotions but rather than your reputation as his daughter, “even with the withdrawals?”

“right, ‘cause you see me as some druggie,” you scoffed, disbelief clouding your judgement. “well maybe if you weren’t sneaking out late at night to see all the boys you hang out with, you wouldn’t have been sniffing god knows what.”

“excuse me?”

“you heard me. if my daughter hadn’t been busy whoring around that night, then maybe you wouldn’t be here at horizon now suffering the consequences!” his voice was loud enough to attract attention, humiliating you right to the core, “seriously, honey—out of all the guys you could’ve chosen, it had to be a married one!”

seeing the scene play out from a distance, peter rushed over in an attempt to stop your father’s outburst in front of everyone, but he was only shoved aside by the worked up man. “mind your damn business, mister scarbrow.”

“dad, enough,” you swallowed in an attempt to steady your voice, “d’you really want to know the truth about that night? i was raped.” nature went silent at your admission, not even the wind dared to make a sound. “not what you were expecting, huh? but that’s how things really went. the pills, the booze: they were all just ways to forget the feeling of his weight on top of me as i tried to fight back, how i tried bargaining to save my dignity at fourteen. now the only way i can is by fucking random strangers to gain a sense of control i lost, even if it’s just temporary. so please, just leave before you start shoving bible verses down my throat.”

without looking back, you walked away from your father as tears welled up in your eyes from frustration. he finally knew the truth, but at what cost? not bearing the weight of it all, you fell to your knees and clutched at your chest.

you longed to scream, to cry ‘til your body went numb—but when you opened your mouth, nothing came out. with your head in your hands, you let the tears flow from your eyes as the weight of it all crashed into you like a hurricane.

hearing leaves on the trees rustle as twigs crunched beneath heavy boots, you heard and recognized the sound of someone approaching. you already knew who it was before seeing them yourself, and he came here to taunt you.

“go away, scott,” but all he did was wrap his arm around you, tucking you into his side as he comforted your heaving body. it was a foreign feeling, like crossing an unmarked territory. this was supposed to be scott barringer: someone who loathed you with every fiber of his being. so why was he here now, hesitantly—but gently—caressing your arm as you soaked his flannel?

“those were all lies. i never,” you stammered before sucking in a breath to control your voice as the tears came flooding in, “i didn’t seduce him.” he hushed you with a whisper, “i believe you, and i’m sorry for all that shit i said.” you didn’t know how to respond, but you just clutched him tighter, grounding yourself through him—and you both stayed like that for a while.

as you cried against his chest, it was as if the world tilted on its axis.

scott barringer finally saw the truth past your “honey, fuck me” eyes.

for @haydenssweetheart 🏷️ : @h4yden-skywalker

[florsials]

she was my girl first | c. beresford

summary : engaged to his cousin, every little reason as to why you and clay were never meant to be shatters when he confesses his love for you during your engagement party.

pairing : childhood best friend!clayton beresford x reader

warnings : angst, angst, angst (good ending though!), swearing, clay being an intense yearner, slight emotional cheating

notes : although this is a platonic song, i couldn’t help but be inspired by “she was my girl first” ‘cause it’s such a devastating lyric overall

© FLORSIALS

clayton tightens his grip on the glass of bourbon he is holding, seething through his teeth at the sight of his cousin caressing your hand where a glistening diamond engagement ring adorns your finger.

when he had first introduced you to charles, he never expected it to play out like a romantic-comedy film where you both fall in love at first sight. yet here he was, attempting to drown himself with liquor as he admires the best friend he’s been in love with since forever from across the room of her engagement party—set to be wed to his older cousin.

the man had always imagined you taking on the beresford name, but not like this. when it came to you, he was selfish—so incredibly selfish. you were his girl first; charles has only known you for six months, but clay has known you for sixteen years.

clearing his throat when he heard you approach him with a giggle escaping your mouth, the corners of his lips twitched up—straining into a smile. calling his name out with enthusiasm, you wrap your arms around his figure. “there she is,” he melts into the warmth of your sweet embrace, “can’t believe you’re getting married.”

“well you better, you’re my man of honor,” the outline of his faltering grin ghosted over your skin—and your heart ached slightly at the feeling of his sudden shift of emotion. unraveling yourself from his hold to get a good look at his face, you seemed to now notice his detached demeanor—along with his tipsiness. “christ, clay. are you okay?”

“i’m all right,” he reassured before adding, “i’ll be all right,” under his breath. those words weighed heavy on his tongue, an underlying message and also a way to try and convince himself everything’s fine.

nothing was fine; it was far from being fine actually.

you knew your best friend far too well to know when he’s lying through his teeth. although he was a well renowned ceo who had a reputation for being stoic, he could never put on an oscar worthy performance when you were in the equation. interlocking your fingers with his, you led him out into the parking lot for a chance of peace and privacy: a reasonable and clever idea in your mind, but a terrible one in his.

the cool windy night nipped at clay’s flushed skin, sending shivers down his spine as he walked over to lean back against the hood of his car, a hand coming up to caress your face. the man didn’t know who or what possessed him, but as he rested his forehead against yours, he hoarsely whispered four gut wrenching words that flipped your whole world: “please don’t leave me.”

stilling for a few seconds, your heart pounded against your chest. please don’t leave me. the phrase played like a broken record in your head, questioning yourself about what he meant—but all clay could do is shake his head no to himself, tears welling up in his eyes. “clay?”

“i’m in love with you. i have been since we were kids. i love you more than i can even fathom, that it hurts in here,” he motioned at his chest, specifically to his new, beating heart, “so please, don’t leave me. you were my girl first.”

“what do you want from me, clay?”

“i just want you,” he professed—voice laced with intense yearning—and you shuddered at his words, “don’t marry him.”

“no you don’t. you had me,” as your brows furrowed at the man standing in front of you, a sob tore from your throat as you slowly back away—and clay breaks at your retreating figure, as if it physically maimed him. “you had me two years ago when you kissed me at your mother’s halloween party in matching costumes, but you chose sam. you had me ever since we met, and you always left without even realizing it.”

raising a finger at him, you weakly prodded at his chest, “you don’t get to say you want me, because you never did. i was always your second choice.”

“you were never, never second choice,” clay affirmed, “i only tried convincing myself that you were too good for me every single time.”

“maybe i am. i waited years for you, clay,” voice cracking as you wiped stray tears away from your makeup-ruined face, you couldn’t even look at your best friend straight into his eyes anymore—not after his confession, “years. i’m leaving.”

and with that, you had the final word as your heels clacked against the asphalt—the sound growing fainter and fainter as clayton watched you disappear into the restaurant where your beloved fiancé was.

clay hasn’t heard from you in weeks, rust growing between telephones as the days went by slow, agonizingly slow.

no matter how hard he tried to forget you, his mind always seemed to wander off to the memory of your purely devastated face when he had said those three forbidden words. in return, he’d drink the picture away with whiskey or brandy—never bourbon, as that was the liquor he drank that night.

however, it wasn’t in your plans to actively avoid him—that was far from the truth. you’d just been busy with moving out and moving back into your old apartment building from before you met your now ex-fiancé.

the engagement between you and charles beresford ended that very same night, marking the end of your six month long relationship as well.

charles could already tell something occurred between you and his cousin when you came rushing back in from the parking lot, and it took everything within him to not find the guy and deck him to the ground. arriving home later that night, an argument automatically ensued after you had revealed how clay had laid himself bare in front of you with his feelings. there was shouting, revelations, and acceptance—the night ending in tears as you slipped your heavy diamond engagement ring off your finger.

therefore, clayton was taken aback when his eyes met yours for the first time in weeks as you stood across from him—hair and clothes soaked by the rain, but a determined expression on your face.

you still looked as beautiful and breathtaking as ever, you always do.

before he can even utter a word out through his initial shock, your lips captured his into a long overdue kiss—one that addressed and acknowledged everything left unsaid between you both. as your hand came up to rest upon his jaw, caressing the skin and stubble of hair growing in that area, he finally broke and reciprocated the intensity of your mouth against his. he couldn’t help but drag you closer into the hold of his arms, smiling into the kiss as he does so.

when you both reluctantly pull away for a breath of fresh air after sharing one just seconds before, he noticed that you were no longer wearing your ring—the engagement ring. he then hesitantly found your gaze, begging for your confirmation that you and his cousin were over and done by his eyes. and when you had nodded in reply, his lips wasted no time in finding yours and enveloping you into a soft kiss—a guttural groan emitting from the back of his throat.

clay couldn’t believe that he could finally have you.

resting your foreheads against one another after surrendering to each other’s mouths, a wide growing beam manifested onto your face as you clung onto him tighter to convince yourself that he was real. “i love you, clay. i always have been in love with you from the moment i met you.” his hand came up to caress your tear-strucked cheeks, brushing the mix of rain and tears away from your face. “christ, i’ve loved you for just as long too—i can’t believe that you’re actually my girl.”

truth is, you’ve always been his girl—but now, he no longer saw the end in everything.

for @haydenssweetheart 🏷️ : @h4yden-skywalker

[florsials]

half of you | j.kelly

pairing : ex boyfriend!james kelly x reader

summary : three years after your break up with james, you cross paths once again when you return home to new orleans for work—but, how exactly do you tell him about his daughter?

warnings : angst w/ comfort, james & reader are both in their late 20s (like 26-27), mentions of a church (once for setting), frankie & james aren’t criminals in this fic bc they deserve to be happy for a change, swearing

notes : been in the drafts since EARLY september and i finally finished

© FLORSIALS

james kelly still remembered the night where you walked out of his life and never came back.

like any man who had just lost the love of his life, he was devastatingly heartbroken and riddled with anguish each time he’d see you in his dreams. every night before he slept, he found himself begging to god and to the heavens above for you to be brought back to him, hoping that the lord will answer his prayers each morning he woke.

yet, not once have you appeared to him—much to his disappointment.

so he chose to project all of his misery into investing in his own auto mechanics shop, wanting to still fulfill those dreams you encouraged him to pursue—even though you were long gone. he decided to give the dreams he had shared with you a new purpose, a new meaning; but you had already scored yourself deep into his heart, and there was nothing he can do about it.

you, on the other hand, were miles away from your hometown and living your life across the country on the west coast—working your demanding job, while also caring for a daughter.

after leaving james on his front porch that late september night, you had discovered your unexpected pregnancy on the bathroom tiles of your new apartment. once you saw the two pink lines on the test, your thoughts were consumed by the thought that this was the very thing he wanted in his life: fatherhood. you couldn’t help but cry into your pillow ‘til daylight, as being alone in an unfamiliar city—far from your family and the man you had bid goodbye to weeks before—finally sets in.

you had to leave though, it was too good of an offer to pass up. the once in a lifetime job opportunity paid enough to get you out of the outskirts of new orleans and start off on a new slate where you knew you could thrive in.

but obviously, you never planned on getting pregnant—let alone thought of becoming a mother when you were still with james. however, seeing those two lines had flipped your whole world despite your initial shock and terror; and for one last remnant of him, you chose to keep the pregnancy and shower the child with more than enough love for him and for you—vowing to raise them with nothing but unwavering strength.

now three years later, josephine still made your heart swell at every little thing she does—your heart bursting at the seams from the overflowing amount of adoration you had for your daughter.

everyone in your family deeply cherished the girl, not just because she’s the first grandchild, but because of her bubbly laugh and her selfless behavior—and as much as you wanted to claim her as your “mini-me”, josie was the spitting image of her father.

a figure, a person she’s never met.

james, too, was still clueless about the existence of his own daughter—and vice versa. your little girl didn’t know anything about him or what the term “daddy” even meant in that sense, and she’s getting to that age where her curiosity leads her down treacherous roads.

you knew you had to tell her sooner than later; therefore, you didn’t hesitate when accepting the transfer back to new orleans for work—and thankfully, your daughter didn’t throw much of a fit about moving across the country since she was “moving closer to grandma”.

when you finally returned to nola, your mother offered to watch over her whenever you were busy with work; however, knowing your shy daughter, you decided to take advantage of the local daycare in an attempt to bolster josie’s social skills.

so that’s how you ended up here, having an awkward encounter with james’ older brother when picking your daughter up.

“no way, well look who it is,” a bewildered smirk curled up his lips at the sight of you. head instinctively turning towards the sound of the husky voice, you swear your heart stopped beating for just a millisecond, “frankie? frankie, how’ve you been?”

“good, good—y’know, left military life to focus on my little one. how’s it been for you? what’re you doin’ here at the daycare?”

before you could respond, josie ran up to you with the biggest grin ever. “mommy, mommy!”

“hi, sweetie,” you crouch down to engulf her tiny figure into a bear hug, “how was your day? did you have fun?” the girl nodded her head excitedly, “i made this for you!” she handed you a piece of paper that had two messy stick figures drawn with colorful crayons; it was perfect. “awh this is so beautiful, thank you! i’m gonna hang this on the fridge forever and ever! i’ll hold onto this and keep it safe, go say bye-bye to your friends now.”

when she skips off, you slowly turned to face frankie whose expression looked as if a hundred questions flooded his mind, but he could only croak out, “your daughter?”

“yeah, my daughter,” you proudly affirmed. as your eyes drift over to the girl hugging her teachers goodbye, your poker face softened at the sight of her beaming grin. you could never deny her—she was what made you whole.

“that’s amazing,” he patted your upper arm, “i’m happy for you! i guess we can both groan and boast about parenthood and whatnot now.”

“thanks, frankie. i’m happy ‘bout yours, too! it feels like just yesterday when you two got married—tell the missus i said hello.” with a chuckle, he nodded and made a quick joke about his wedding from five years ago before asking, “where’s your husband?”

awkwardly facing away from him at his—totally and very logical—assumption, you sucked in a breath, “don’t got one. josephine’s all i have.”

“oh.”

“yeah, oh.” you knew the older man wasn’t judging you. that wasn’t frankie at all. he was just slightly taken aback since you expressed—in the past—that marriage meant more to you than having kids first, especially as a person who couldn’t see herself with children in the future.

but not everything goes as expected. you just have to follow where the wind blows, that being the path of learning motherhood. it was something you never would’ve thought of experiencing at such a young age—let alone, ever. however, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. regardless of the long stares you receive from passersby on the street with their judgemental looks, you fully embraced your role as a mother.

as frankie surveyed her from the distance, head tilting in concentration, he broke the uneasy silence with a joke, “y’know, you’re not fooling me,” he cleared his throat to recapture your attention, “she’s got jimmy written all over her.”

with your breath caught in your throat, you couldn’t conjure up a witty comeback to his words.

“plus, her name’s a dead giveaway: james joseph kelly, josephine,” he continued as you stiffly stood there, your daughter’s drawing clutched tightly against your chest. it somehow felt like a never ending nightmare. “pretty good, eh?”

“frankie,” you offer him a look, one that washed him cold with the truth. “well shit, y’serious? he’s the father?” anxiously biting your bottom lip with a nod, you pinched the bridge of your nose, “can you keep this to yourself though?”

“hide it from jimmy, you mean?”

“no, well yes, but no! look, frankie, it’s complicated.” after one last expression of conflict on his face, he sighed, “my hands are tied, but all right—he’s gotta learn the truth at some point though. he deserves to know his daughter.”

“i know.”

“we can’t keep this from james forever.”

you thought the universe was playing some cruel joke on you.

when you drove home from working in the city all day, you were already more than exhausted when your car started to make strange noises that originated from the ignition. as you were about to bang your head onto the steering wheel in frustration, an auto repair shop’s sign shined brightly from the distance and you made your way towards it like a moth to a flame.

once you stepped foot into the shop, a wave of faint motor oil immediately hits your nose. scrunching your face in response to the smell, you cleared your throat before searching for a mechanic that would solve your car issues.

however, everything seemed dead with only a singular person working behind the counter. “welcome to kelly’s auto shop, i’ll be right with you in a sec,” a husky voice announced, sensing your presence despite having his head turned back to you. “what can i,” the man quickly scribbled into a notebook before facing forward to tiredly greet his customer, “do for you.”

james’ breath hitched at the sight of you standing right before him, his eyes softening at your familiar figure despite the resurgence of pain he felt in his heart. you looked even more beautiful than he last remembered, ethereal even as you carried yourself with such grace as you entered his shop.

“hey, s’been a long time since i last saw that face,” the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, never having felt his heart be this full since you’d left all those years ago.

“james, hi! this yours, the auto shop?” he nodded his head, the corner of his lips tugging into a soft smirk. “you’ve accomplished those dreams, i see. i’m happy for you.”

“thanks.” wiping his greasy hands with an old rag, he followed as you led him to your vehicle parked out in front, “so what seems to be the problem?”

his voice slightly faltered when he saw the kids car seat in the back, but james knew that he had to keep his composure and stay professional—not only for your sake, but for his too.

“there’s this clicking noise whenever i start my car and it was getting super annoying,” you chuckled, oblivious to his inner turmoil, “i really tried pushing through, but after hours of working, it’s definitely something you don’t want to hear when rushing home.”

even when he was numb under his facade, he couldn’t help but betray a smile at the sound of your laughter, “you were never really good at cars,” the man teased as you tried to hide the grin that threatened to curl up your lips. “yeah, still am.”

“came to the right place then.”

popping the hood of your car, he began to work on fixing the ignition coil as you both caught up on the three long years spent apart. that was until your phone started ringing from your purse. james gave you a nod of acknowledgment and understanding before refocusing on completing his task. as you took a step away to answer your mother’s call, you sneakily seized a moment to admire how he looked perched over your vehicle.

after accepting the call from your mother, josephine’s voice echoed from the other line—instantly easing your heart and relaxing the tension you felt from your car troubles. “hi, baby,” you cooed, listening to her as she rambled on about her day shared with her grandmother. james felt himself subconsciously perk up at the affectionate name that slipped effortlessly past your lips; you used to call him baby.

all of a sudden, he was on edge now.

“yeah i’ll be home soon, maybe in an hour or so,” her toddler-like pronunciation had you chuckling as she tried to ask about where you were; unbeknownst to her that you were with her father.

but he misinterpreted your reply: her husband’s fucking clingy, he thinks to himself.

listening as josephine talked about how much she wished to see you right now from missing you this whole morning and afternoon, you frowned at her apparent sadness, “i missed you all day too. once i see you, i’ll give you the biggest hug ever.”

it’s only been a day, he’ll live, the man rolled his eyes, pretending that he was unaffected by your words.

“okay, i’ve gots to go. i love you more, sweetheart,” ending the call, you walked back over to where james was. he mockingly echoed what you said in his head, feigning disgust at how lovey-dovey you were when he was actually hurt.

you seemed so happy without him in your life, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

when you finally left the shop with a relieved smile, james rushed closing up before driving over to frankie’s place—cracking open a beer as he sulkily stared off into the abyss.

after much persuasion from your mother, you decided to spend your sunday afternoon attending the local mass service you spent all of your adolescence going to. she’d thought it would be a clever—and convenient—way to reconnect with the town after years of estrangement.

so here you were, in your teenage church dress that fit too tight on your post-partum body, carrying your daughter on your hip as you spoke to old friends from high school and folks from your past. as expected, people were surprised when you introduced josephine as they were clueless about your pregnancy and life after leaving new orleans; some have asked if you were married or even worse, who the father is, but you always found a way to redirect the conversation after a subtle shake of your head.

“mommy, when are we gonna go?” your daughter yawned, tiredly leaning against your leg as you held onto her tiny hand. “i’m so sorry, sweetie, in a couple more minutes,” she sighed, frowning, “unless you wanna go with grandma to her house instead? mommy has to stay and do grown up talk with her old classmates; but once i’m done, i’m all yours. i promise.” her little pout had your stomach churning from guilt, you were never one to let your daughter down—this being one of the very few times you do.

the shape of her down curled lips and the furrow of her brows made your breath hitch in your throat.

it was a familiar sight.

“the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”, as they say.

once josephine reluctantly agreed, you felt relief course through your veins—at least she wasn’t stubborn with you, something she thankfully didn’t inherit from her father. walking over to your mother’s car, where she leant against with a smile, fate decided to have other plans.

colliding with another on your path to the parking lot, the impact had the stranger’s car keys slipping out of his cupped palm. you immediately whipped around, picking up their key fob off the dewy grass.

“i’m so sorry!” your eyes flickered up to meet the person’s gaze when apologizing, but the words choked in your throat when you recognized the man’s familiar features like a distant memory. “james, hi.”

he stood across from you in an old suit, hair lazily tidied up for church. “hey there, you all right?” out of pure instinct, you clutched onto josephine tightly when you absently nodded in answer—not trusting yourself to use your own voice, knowing that it would fail at this very moment.

james’ attention was then caught by the little girl who clung onto your free hand, a bewildered expression on his face when he took one good look at her—heart dropping to his stomach at the resemblances between them.

that was his little girl.

you studied james’ face as it twisted and turned, searching for words to say at the earth shattering revelation.

mercifully, your mother took josie’s hand amidst the sea of discovery and astonishment, ushering her to the car while telling her you’d tag right along after your talk with a “friend”.

even once they had driven off, the man continued to stare into your eyes with bewilderment, his expression unwavering and sending shivers down your spine. a quiet curse slipped past his lips before veering off to his own vehicle.

you knew he wanted you to follow him, so you do.

after he fumbled to unlock his jeep, james dropped into the driver’s seat with a trembling breath as you opened the door to the passenger’s side. waiting until you had your seatbelt on, he drove to a more secluded area to pull over and talk—far enough from the gathering in town. his head was slightly sagged, anticipation clawing at you while waiting for any sign of life from him.

“is she my daughter?” the words were heavy on his tongue, enough to make or break him.

“yes.”

“did you know when you left me?” when you shook your head no, he let out a sigh of relief as he ran his hand over his teary face. “you should’ve called, been waiting for one since you left me that night.”

“shit, jimmy. you think i wanted to leave? i needed to, i didn’t have a choice. the west offered me a way out of this fuckin’ town and i couldn’t pass it up because i had nothing else going on for me here. i didn’t have a reason to stay.”

“was i not enough for you?”

your heart shattered at his words, feeling it clench tight in your chest. “you know i don’t mean it like that. you were the best thing that happened to me in this shithole. i loved you more than i couldn’t even fathom—and as selfish as it sounds, i left because i loved you.”

he sobbed into his clenched fist, breath shaking when he finally turned to look you in the eye since the confession. “three years i waited for you, waited for a woman who i thought was just a figment of my imagination. when you left, it ached so fuckin’ bad in here,” he weakly pointed to his heart, “i never loved anyone like i loved you. do you know how distraught i was when i saw that little car seat in the back when fixing you up a few days ago? the thought of you possibly moving on and being someone’s missus hurt worse than any sucker punch or cut i’ve gotten—only to find out that you’ve been keepin’ my daughter from me, my own flesh and blood.”

“james,” you intertwined your fingers with his before resting your forehead against where your two hands met, “i know apologies can’t bring the past three years back, but i’m so incredibly sorry for everything. you deserved better. i truly did want to tell you about josephine, but i couldn’t reopen an old wound of yours. that’d be selfish of me.”

“so what? she’s still my daughter. i would’ve welcomed you back with open arms if you had said the word—hell, i’d still do it because i love you even after all this time. i never stopped, not for a second.”

when you finally registered the weight of his confession, your body didn’t waste a second in enveloping him into a kiss full of swirling emotions. he was taken aback from the press of your mouth against his and stilled at the touch, genuinely convinced that this was only another dream and that he already lost you. however, as your hands came up to caress his face, james lets out an agonizing groan before deepening your kiss.

the two of you longed to refamiliarize yourselves with the sensation of each others lips.

no words could ever describe the feeling; it was more than passionate, more than devastating, more than what words could say—the fervor of the kiss engraving itself deep into your mind.

once you both pulled apart, foreheads resting against one another, his breathing hitched at your honest words: “i love you; i truly, deeply love you—and i know josephine will too.”

“josephine? she’s my namesake?” pressing a hand to his chest, the area closest to his heart, you fought back the tears that prickled your eyes, “so she still had a piece of her father.”

“and i want you to have a piece of me too,” james brushed a stray strand of your hair away as he cupped your face in his rough, tattooed hands, “marry me. you don’t gotta give me an answer now or soon because i’ll do it with a real ring, but i’m just putting it out there. i’d love for you both to have the ‘kelly’ name.”

“james, i’d say yes either way.”

he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, holding the back of your head in his palm as if you were the most precious thing in this world—and you were to him, along with the daughter you two share. “are we gonna be okay?”

“i know we will be. we always are.”

[florsials]

warnings & notes : a short, little clay blurb as i try to overcome writer’s block

the atmosphere was too lonely for an airport—too desolate, too quiet except for the occasional announcements on the pa. friends and families, including yours, have already bid their loved ones goodbye in the international terminal, leaving you alone with only the flight attendants and the remaining passengers who haven’t gone through security check.

your fingers were clutched around the handle of your carry-on, knuckles turning white with every passing moment as you took everything in—how the past few weeks have gone by in a blink of an eye. everything had been a blur of waking up, going to work, and soothing yourself to sleep—a repeating cycle of agony, almost as if you were a ghost living amongst the bustling city of new york.

how could you not though? you went from being in a long-term passionate romance with your college sweetheart, a man who had promised forever to you for six years straight, to a single woman within the past fortnight. never in a million years, you both would’ve thought it would end; that it would be over for you two.

the break up was devastating, something so unexpected. neither you or him wanted it. the fight, and everything leading up to it, could’ve been easily avoided. however, many things were said that night and six years of their lives ended with a final word from him.

loving someone like CLAY BERESFORD was not for the weak—in fact, he was your weakness.

as you stared at the bright screen that plastered flight times, your eyes scanned for the midnight flight enroute to london’s heathrow airport. t minus two hours. looking back behind you one last time and seeing that a certain someone was no where to be found, your grip tightened on your luggage as you begrudgingly followed the direction signs above.

when you finally reached the security checkpoint that led to your final boarding gate, your hand reached deep into your coat pocket to toggle with the silence on your cellphone—choosing to jump into whatever challenges london may force upon you head first.

then—footsteps.

that was when you saw him standing across from you like a distant memory, hair disheveled as if he ran through heaven and earth to reach you just in time before your scheduled flight. clay urged himself to take a hesitant footstep closer to you—as your name fell from his lips like a prayer, broken yet melodic at once. the sight of his breathtakingly beautiful visage had your heart clenching. “clay,” your voice came out as a whisper, tainted with indescribable pain but also overwhelming fondness that betrayed your facade, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“don’t go,” his hands came up to touch your face, fingers tracing over every inch of your skin as if he’s engraving it into his memory, “don’t go to london—please. we’re not on different paths because you are my path. from the moment i met you, you had scored yourself deep into my heart and i knew that there was no forgetting you. i have loved you everyday since then; so please, i can’t watch you walk away—i know i did, but this is me asking for a second chance. i want to be with you—always, everyday, for the rest of our lives if you’ll have me.”

tears welled up in your eyes at his words, emotions of profound disbelief and also pure love intertwined together. his genuineness in his every action and word was always your achilles’ heel during your relationship; but now, when he’s pleading for you to stay in manhattan with him, you seemed to remember why you first loved him to begin with.

but you knew you couldn’t stay, no matter how much you wanted to—and it broke your heart. as you gazed into his azure irises that reflected the story of your romance, the words on the tip of your tongue die as you tear yourself apart on choosing what you should do: stay or leave.

“please say something,” he whispered, leaning in and closing the gap between you both just enough to where you can feel his breath fan over your face—so close, yet so far. clay was normally a patient guy; for a ceo, he had to be. however, when the love of his life is on the verge of flying across the world with no plan of coming back, the manners he grew up with and his own morals fade into nothing. he only had you in his mind.

and right here, right now—you too only had him in your mind. clay beresford was your destiny, there was no denying it.

“come with me.”

it was his turn to be stunned, your words still not fully registered and processed in his mind. “baby,” his featherlight touch became rough against your tear-stained cheeks, “y’serious right now?”

“i always am when it comes to you, clay.”

he wastes no time in capturing your lips with his, too deprived of the feeling of your body and soul—of your love. you found yourself smiling into the kiss as you tugged him closer by the nape of his neck, relief and certainty flooding your veins as he whispers professions of love in between breaths. you were both finally home.

“come on, lover boy. let’s get you a ticket.”

clay gif ctto!

[florsials]

mistletoe madness | a. skywalker

pairing : anakin skywalker x senator!reader

summary : in the midst of an argument with anakin, you both walk under a mistletoe hanging above the doorway at the same time… rules are rules right?

warnings : SMUT, the jedi allowing relationships and attachment au, masturbation, fingering, breast play, breath play (choking), hair pulling, dirty talk, praising, very vocal anakin, orgasm denial (?), unprotected sex

notes : SAVE ME CLONE WARS ARMOUR ANI… also, ending my “yule ball” with a bang (literally) despite it being february

ever since meeting anakin after being appointed senator of coruscant at nineteen, you two never seemed to see eye to eye.

the young jedi knight pushed your buttons while you always got on his last nerve.

a relationship, if you even call it that, where you pushed and he pulled.

yet, you both had to work closely together during the bloodshed of the violent clone wars. you hated every second spent together as he always had something to quip back at you—but he did make a good general and was show-stopping on the front lines of battle, something you ashamedly admired and respected about him.

the loathing you two shared wasn’t any different now as you both quarrel side by side, striding irritatedly through the jedi temple as he found a new aspect to nitpick about you after confronting him about his inefficient commanding on the battleground.

“right! ‘cause not everyone can be as conceited and compulsive as you, big strong anakin skywalker—the ‘chosen’ one.” you seethe through your teeth, taking a sharp turn into the common area of the headquarters—where many gathered before a mission. “at least i don’t hide behind some uptight senator facade to prove a point to myself. how about you live? show a little life and get your head out of your ass.”

“oh, really?” stopping right under the doorway to face his cold gaze, you furrow your brows and take one step closer to him, “you want me to show a little life?”

before you could continue, teasing “ooo’s” erupt from the crowd of padawans and their masters—including his own: “pucker up, skyguy,” her lips curl up into a smirk, arms crossing over her chest just like the jedi knight who trains her.

looking at each other with confused expressions from ahsoka’s comment, none of you understood what was going on. “snips, what’re you talking about?” anakin sighs, not wanting to deal with his cheeky padawan learner this early in the morning.

all she could do was point her finger up, motioning towards the mistletoe hanging above you both. eyes widening at the sight of the holiday plant, you swear you felt your blood run cold. hearing him curse under his breath, you begin to painfully laugh out of disbelief, “this cannot be happening.”

“tradition’s tradition, senator,” ahsoka justifies with a wide beam across her face, “i promise my master’s not as bad as you think he is. well...” the girl’s voice trails off, not daring to finish her dig right in front of anakin. “ahsoka,” he scolds, his burning gaze leaving yours for a split second.

“fine, let’s just get it over with. give the people what they want.” eyes rolling as the jedi burst into cheers, your unexpected compliance to their antics shocks anakin down to the core.

“what? you’re seriously gonna let them coerce you?” his voice laced of irritation and nervousness… were you actually going to let him kiss you? “didn’t you tell me to go live an actual life-” anakin steals the words right off of your tongue, his lips soft against yours as he roughly cups your jaw at an angle to deepen the gesture.

you were still for a second or two—too stunned to process the foreign feeling of his mouth on yours—but when you snap out of your daze, you return the same fervor as your fingers claw at his loose jedi robes. both lips burn with ache as they tangle together, searching and chasing after only the maker knows what.

for just a moment, the galaxy beyond coruscant no longer mattered—only the way his mouth moves effortlessly against yours does; and it takes every ounce of his self restraint to not let you pull away from his lips as he already found solace in yours. he tries to regain his composure, steadying his breathing and acting as if he wasn’t panting from kissing you senseless just now.

how was it possible for him to already be more addicted to your touch, imprinting yourself onto his very soul and ruining him for everyone else?

each pent up frustration and desire led you both to this moment… but you knew damn well it had to end there.

anakin watches as you play off wiping your lips with the back of your hand, announcing how you needed to return to the galactic senate building for an assembly. cleaning the smudged lipstick on the outer corners of your mouth, you leave him under the mistletoe all alone. the clicking sound of your mary janes echo as you rush out of the jedi temple, not daring to look back once to meet his fierce azure eyes.

and all he could do was watch, his intense gaze unwavering as you slip away from his sight…

you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss with anakin: how it electrified your soul, how his lips molded perfectly to fit against yours, how you hated that you enjoyed every single second of it.

he had your head going haywire, branding himself and the feeling of his mouth between the crevices of your mind. it was torturing you, haunting you even while you attempted to carry on with your day.

as you lay awake in your quiet coruscant apartment, sheets rustled from tossing and turning, a groan of frustration leaves your throat as you tug on the chain of the lamp that sat atop your nightstand—lightly illuminating the bedroom. collapsing back onto your pillow again, there was an undeniable burning lust between your thighs that persisted since feeling anakin’s soft lips against yours—torturing you throughout a legislative decree senator organa was arguing to get passed.

during his five hour long address, your skin burned with need as your thighs clenched tightly together to ease the growing ache.

now in the comfort and privacy of your bedroom, you couldn’t help but slip a finger deep into your pussy—needing to satisfy the emptiness you endured all day long. a long, drawn out moan leaves your throat—making you shudder at the sound. adding another digit in curling up against your cervix, your mouth falls into an ‘o’ as you continue to stretch yourself out.

while you desperately grind down against your own hand, reveling in how your fingers pump in and out you with no mercy, you gnaw at your plush bottom lip in an attempt to muffle your sounds of pleasure… too afraid that you might moan a dreaded person’s name.

with much humiliation, you imagined it was his cock pistoning in and out of you instead, abusing your tight entrance over, and over, and over again.

kriff, you needed him so bad…

feeling the coil in your lower stomach become taut with the closeness of your orgasm, a reckless rap at your front door jerks you away from your blissful haze, forcing you to drag your fingers out of your sopping cunt—one by one.

shrugging on your satin robe that laid askew on the edge of your mattress, you trudge through the already ajar bedroom door and make your way towards the source of the knocking—an annoyed scowl manifesting across your face.

who could be knocking on your door this late at night?

thrusting the wooden door open with frustration, not even bothering to check through the little peephole, you swear your soul left its body at the sight of anakin skywalker.

he looked… a mess—a hot mess. literally. his dark blonde hair was disheveled, sticking out in separate directions, and his jedi robes looked as if he hurriedly and carelessly threw them on. it was an interesting sight to be greeted with.

“what in the maker’s name are you doing here-” before you could even finish demanding why he was at your coruscant apartment, eyes narrowing down at the man in front of you, he wraps his hand upon the nape of your neck and smashes his lips against yours.

he moves hungrily, pushing through the threshold of your apartment and holding you tight in his rough hands as if you were to disappear when he lets go. your nimble fingers tangle in his curls, harshly tugging on them with surrender when his tongue begs for entrance into your mouth—and who were you to deny that?

everything felt like a peculiar vivid dream, one where you and anakin skywalker were clinging onto each other like lifelines as you hook your arms around his neck to pull him in closer… only except this was reality.

“i shouldn’t want this, want you.” hearing your whispered confession leaves goosebumps across his skin, his hands stilling against the soft skin of your cheeks. anakin’s forehead falls forward and meets yours—a chaste gesture shared in a moment of pure, burning intensity. “tell me giving in wouldn’t scar us,” his voice was gruff, as if he was physically in pain at the thought of not being able to have you, “that we wouldn’t ruin each other.”

gazing up into his irises, it was like your answer reflected itself in the golden flecks of his eyes, “our lives were bound to be ruined anyway.” without a moment’s hesitation, he captures your lips with his. with anakin’s body melting into the kiss, he tries to follow your lead when you guide him to your bedroom, too distracted by the feeling of your mouth on his.

the young jedi bunches your nightgown from where it lightly grazes your thighs, before slipping it up and off your figure—leaving you in just a dainty pair of lingerie. “you’re so,” anakin’s breath comes out ragged as he truly looks at you, “very beautiful.”

his lips then find themselves within the valley of your breasts, tainting the exposed areas of skin with maroon love bites. your fingers card through his hair, reflexively tugging at his roots when he soothes the sting of his marks with his tongue. when his mouth kisses its way back to your own lips, he leads you over to your mattress and lays you down softly beneath him.

“always wondered what mess you’ll end up in ‘cause of that smart mouth of yours,” he smirks against the outline of your lips, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. with the same finger, he hooks it under the lace fabric of your panties and pulls down agonizingly slow to torture you a little longer. pressing his thumb down onto your clitoris, a sharp inhale of your breath almost breaks his fierce disposition. feeling your pussy dripping all over him, his finger finally makes contact with your entrance—slipping itself deep into you.

the feeling was unimaginable, indescribable, unmatched. his agile digits were stretching you as he adds another, one by one, already stuffing you full with his fingers as they relentlessly pump in and out. he was entranced by the expressions on your face. “i just never thought that it’d be under me, writhing from my touch alone.”

you didn’t know what possessed you, what overcame you—but it just slipped out, something you swore you’d never do for anyone… beg.

“anakin,” the burning sensation in your pelvic region was fierce now, indicating how you needed that release of pleasure soon; however, he swiftly retracts his fingers, a smug smile bold on his face.

muttering some profanity under your breath from frustration, anakin’s hands hover on your hips as he meets your eyes. his brow quirks up to challenge you, “what was that, senator? would you mind repeating that a little louder.” he pinches the peak of your hardened nipple, eliciting a small squeal to escape from your now swollen lips.

“always impatient, aren’t you?”

“always have something to quip back, don’t you-” the sensation of the angry head of his cock was enough to make you lose your train of thought, inhaling sharply as he sinks himself further into your dripping entrance.

all you could do was claw at the bare skin of his biceps, eyes screwed shut and mouth wide open from how deliciously he was stretching your cunt out. “kriff, squeezing’ my cock so tight, love. i’m already in love with this pretty pussy.”

when he finally bottoms out in your cunt that was drenched in arousal, anakin begins to roll his hips against yours—his initial movements were slow and sensual as he revels in the feeling of your entrance enveloping the full length of him, before settling on a rough and passionate pace that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

satisfied sighs escape your lips, only driving anakin’s need for you even further. he, himself, was also a whining and groaning mess as he allows himself to embrace how your body moves synchronously with his—hips meeting his thrusts with every grind of his own.

the sound of raw skin slapping against each other was filthy to the ears of a jedi knight and a senator, but you two wouldn’t have it any other way. if this was heaven, you were ready to die with open arms.

“already cock drunk, huh?” he softly slaps your rosy cheek in sync with his thrusts, a broken cry of pleasure leaving your mouth in response amidst your sex-driven haze. “anakin,” you sputter out, gasping as he drills himself deeper into your warm, welcoming cunt.

“you’re doing so well for me, senator,” he praises as he trails open mouthed kisses across your nude figure, “could bury myself in you forever if you let me.”

without warning, anakin harshly shifts you onto your knees—pressing your back into an arch with his calloused hands. the new position almost sends you into a sobbing mess, and all you can feel and think about is him.

too blissed out from how deep he was thrusting into your pussy, you don’t notice how his hand slowly travels up your neck—giving it a short, little squeeze. hearing the sound of your sudden hitched breathing, blood rushes to his hardened cock.

releasing you from his loose grasp, his fingers then curl into the roots of your hair, tugging you down for a desperate kiss. the burn of it all felt so good; his lips were pure fire as it eagerly met yours.

“i can feel that you’re close,” a kiss lingers on your temple, “need you to cum around my cock,” his breath fanned over the shell of your ear, only making you writhe under him even more. anakin skywalker possessed all five of your senses at this very moment, and the two of you came with one last final thrust.

the comedown of your high left you dazed, mumbling and slurring about how good anakin fucked you senseless as your eyes gradually drift off. the sight alone leaves anakin lowly chuckling, smoothing out your disheveled hair with the palm of his hand.

intertwining his fingers with yours as he lays beside you, the soft press of his lips lands on your cheek.

“does this mean you won’t critique me about my battle attack plans anymore?” the young jedi teases, earning an annoyed glare from you.

when you jokingly push him off of you in retaliation, a noticeable pout forms on his mouth. “maker, you’re insufferable,” rolling your eyes fondly with a groan, you wrap an arm across his broad chest.

“only when it comes to you, senator.”

@florsials

🏷️ : @cucumbermel , @edtomh , @clozeds , @l0singctrl

[florsials]

the greatest gift | h. christensen

pairing : actor!husband!hayden christensen x actress!reader

summary : on christmas day, you surprise hayden with the greatest gift he could ever wish for… being a father.

warnings : teensy bit of angst (reader having doubts about the pregnancy at first), fluffy ending

notes : another part to one of my fav au’s i’ve written, but make it xmas—also, PRO-CHOICE IS PRO-HEALTH!! abortion is healthcare (block me if you feel the need to argue, spare me of your bigotry)

sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a palm clasps over your mouth, staring at the piece of plastic laying across your lap.

pregnant.

you were pregnant with hayden’s baby.

how could this be? of course, you both talked about having children eventually… but you’ve never thought it would happen this early. your mind was spiraling—not knowing how you could be a good mother at twenty-six, especially as a young actress seen as prey by the paparazzi.

hearing the sound of your husband’s voice announcing he was home, you quickly tuck the pregnancy test into the cardboard box it came in, and into your purse sitting on the edge of the sink. “i’m in here,” your voice echoed in the spacious bathroom that now felt too small, forcing you to suffocate in your own thoughts.

“hey, baby” hayden trails in, already changed out of his clothes, beaming and oblivious to your inner turmoil. he kneels on one knee, bending down to press his lips against your forehead—the kiss lingering for a few seconds as if he already knew you needed it. “hi, hayden,” a soft smile curls up your lips, “d’you have a good day on set?”

all he could do was shrug, paying no interest to his acting gig as he nuzzles his face into your left hand that was adorned with your beautiful wedding ring. “nothin’ too out of the ordinary. i just really missed my wife.” at the confession, you lean down to peck at his lips, “missed you too, love.”

hayden instantly knew something was off from your reserved demeanor… it was so unlike you. “you okay, honey?” nodding your head, you try to reassure him despite of your odd behavior, “yeah, just tired. had a long day.” it was definitely a long day: running errands all across town and coming home to find out that you’re pregnant.

he frowns in pity, caressing your hand with his. “all right then, let’s get my gorgeous wife into bed so she can rest.” without even having the opportunity to protest, he lifts you up bridal style, carrying you into the bedroom with a hearty laugh. “hayden!” a squeal leaves your mouth, followed by a giggle. laying you down onto the mattress softly, he wraps the covers over your figure to make sure you were warm and comfortable before joining you under them.

whispers of love and devotion were whispered before the two of you dozed off into sleep, reminding each other of the vows said on your wedding day… but you couldn’t help the guilty feeling that churned in your stomach as you lied straight to his face—keeping the major revelation secret for now.

the next morning, when hayden stirred awake from the golden rays shining through the window, he reflexively went to sling an arm around your torso only to find that you were no where to be seen—your side of the bed already neatly made as if no one had slept there the night before.

he sat up quickly, the covers pooling around his hips, searching the room for any trace of you. there wasn’t a note left on the nightstand or a text message that lit up his phone; it was radio silence from you, his wife.

holding his breath as he walked to the kitchen of your shared apartment, he sees a small plate of breakfast wrapped in cellophane with a sticky note on top that read: sorry, something came up. i might take a while so i’ll see you later tonight. love you!

to him, it seemed off. that wasn’t you. that wasn’t his wife. studying the yellow card in his hand, brows furrowed as he reread the words in ink, he can only let out a suspicious “hm” before carrying on with his routine.

what hayden didn’t know was that you were at the doctors office, waiting for the obgyn you secretly scheduled an appointment with—in the middle of the night, while he was dead asleep—to return with the test results she performed minutes before.

“congratulations, mrs. christensen. you are indeed pregnant!” her words shook you to your core, the confirmation of your pregnancy sending shivers down your spine. “you’re seven weeks as of today. if it’s okay with you, i would like to perform a transvaginal ultrasound to evaluate the health and development of the fetus.” you feel yourself nod, your body having a mind of its own as your actual one was too numb to process anything. “are you all right, mrs. christensen? it’s fine if we don’t go through with this today-”

“no!” your voice sharply interjects, startling the doctor and even yourself, “sorry, i do want to have the ultrasound… just a bit antsy if i’m being honest.” she smiles with understanding before ushering you to the radiology wing.

however, as you settle in, all you could think about as you laid on that bed was your future… were you willing to risk exposing your child to the limelight, never granting them peace as they will always be tied to what their parents do for work?

before you left, the technician hands you a copy of your sonogram. to your surprise, during the ultrasound, she had announced that you were carrying twins—like the role you had played a few years ago… like padmé amidala, from the star wars franchise, that led you to your now husband just years prior.

staring at the picture in your hand, you found yourself having a change of heart: you were no longer frightened to become a mother.

yes, you were still nervous about this new turning point of your life. who wouldn’t be?

but there was now a piece of you that cherished the two lives growing inside of you, determined to protect it with every fiber of your being.

“happy holidays, mrs. christensen,” her voice was soft, truly happy for you as she pulls you back into reality. looking up to meet the ultrasound technician’s eyes, your lips find themselves curling into a smile. “thank you,” you cleared your throat, “for this. happy holidays.”

as you feel a sense of peace course through your veins as you take a deep breath, stepping out of the hospital, you hail a cab to return home—to return to your husband.

the clock ticked 11:53 at night when hayden heard the front door to the apartment creak open, unveiling you in all of your glory as if he didn’t worry sick about you. curled up on the settee—a book he tried to read to keep himself company without you around, on his lap—he faintly frowns as you nonchalantly hang your winter coat onto the rack and toe your shoes off.

with a sigh of relief, you shuffle over to him on the sofa and engulf him into a warm embrace.

your eyes then flicker over to the small dining table in the corner, a singular plate of food and a glass of wine left untouched in the candlelight. stomach dropping in realization that it was christmas eve, your lips ghosts kisses over his hairline, “i’m so sorry. i completely forgot we had plans tonight, my love. please forgive me.”

his head burrows into the depths of your chest, melting into your arms after a whole day of not seeing each other. “at least you’re here now, that’s what matters.”

carefully tearing yourself away from his hold, you begin to rummage through your purse for a small photograph—a very special gift. sure, it wasn’t properly wrapped like an actual christmas present with ribbon and little snowmen; but considering how it was a last minute gift, you knew it wouldn’t matter. when you turn back to look at your husband, he’s eyeing at you with intrigue.

“merry christmas, baby.”

hayden chuckles as he takes the flipped over sonogram offered from your hand, unaware of the fear that whispered doubts into your ear. when he turns the monochrome photograph right side up, his breathing hitches from the ultrasound proof clutched in his hand. were you actually pregnant? were you really having his children, twins to be exact?

“i’m…” his voice caught in his throat, along with tears of joy blurring his eyesight, “i’m going to be a dad?” once you nod your head with confirmation, he leaps from the settee and wraps his arms around your figure—spinning you around as he presses his mouth against yours in a kiss.

“you’re incredible, y’know,” setting you back down onto the ground, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear as his other hand doesn’t leave your rosy cheek, “i love you so much, honey.”

“i love you more,” a grin curls up your lips before looking down at your stomach, “and our growing family.” hayden shakes his head, “oh, that can’t be. i love all three of you the mostest—don’t even try to argue.”

playfully rolling your eyes at him, he retaliates by intertwining your fingers with his. “was that why you’ve been acting strange since last night?”

“hey, i thought i was doing a phenomenal job at acting completely cool and sane!” you whine, earning a laugh from your husband. “maybe leave the acting behind on set and keep it away from home,” his face was smug, convinced he had made a witty joke.

“god, you’re insufferable. i just hope at least one of the twins doesn’t get your sense of humor,” sniggering at your own little tease directed at hayden, his nostrils flare in feigned annoyance. “excuse me? i have an amazing sense of humor! we should watch out if they inherit your stubbornness, instead.”

as morning crept in, echoes of your shared giggles about parenthood linger in the air, solidifying the beginning of a new journey you both will walk hand in hand together.

@florsials

🏷️ : @cucumbermel , @edtomh , @clozeds , @l0singctrl

[florsials]

sounds like ho, ho, ho | s. monroe

pairing : sam monroe x reader

summary : every year, your family always travels upstate to spend christmas time with the monroe’s. as much as you do love george and robin, you cannot—for the life of you—stand their son, sam… but there’s something different about him this time.

warnings : SMUT, oral (f receiving), p in v (protected sex), breast play, risk of getting caught, a hint of sam being a munch… i think that’s all

notes : i’ve grown to love my alt bf, sam monroe

“you’ve gotta be shitting me.”

trudging through the snow with your arms crossed in annoyance, you scowl at your parents after learning about one last minute change.

throughout your past christmases shared with the monroe family in their holiday cabin upstate, you always found yourself occupying the pullout sofa since there weren’t enough bedrooms for all six of you combined—and the adults didn’t want you and sam sharing a room at such a young age. however, this year, things “changed” as the living room was being remodeled by george himself—meaning that you were…

“sharing a room with sam? yeah, over my dead body!” unwrapping the wool scarf you had wrapped around your neck, your shuck it onto the ottoman beside the doorway. hearing the echo of footsteps approach the part of the foyer you were at, you abandoned unpacking your belongings as your attention drifts over.

“calm down with the excitement, sweetheart,” sam appears from around the corner—and you couldn’t even deny that you weren’t mesmerized by the young adult face he’s grown into. he was… handsome? “i didn’t plan on sharing my room with you either.”

perhaps he hasn’t changed some aspects of himself after all this time…

“still an asshat, i see,” you roll your eyes, pushing past him as you begrudgingly make your way towards his room to get settled in; but, he surprisingly follows close behind you. “still a prissy princess, i see.”

“okay!” his mother intervenes with a soft smile in an attempt to de-escalate the argument before it’s even started. “hi, honey,” she turns to face you for the first time in two years and her jaw drops, “my oh my, you’ve grown so much! isn’t she beautiful, sam?”

“not too shabby, pigtails,” he sniggers, using a stupid nickname he gave you back when you were both younger. robin jabs her son on the side, warning him to get his act together even at eighteen years old. “sorry, he’s still working on his compliments.”

“well, i don’t really expect much coming from sam,” looking over at the boy, he feigns a hurt expression from your words. “okay, ouch? care to share why you’ve got a stick up your-”

“all right,” she interjects once again, much more stern this time, “get settled in, dear. i’ll call you both over once dinner is ready so we can all eat together, it is christmas eve after all.” before she leaves, she mouths a “behave” to sam, causing him to huff in response like the moody teenager he once was.

“your room better not smell like weed, monroe,” he raises an eyebrow at your words, amused that you brought up his high school antics from years before. “very funny. i’m a changed man, sweetheart, that’s all in the past.”

“yeah, as if it wasn’t two years ago,” you continue to walk towards the bedroom at the end of the hallway, “still can’t believe that the sam monroe is currently in college right now—such a shocker, and for engineering too? can you even do math?”

“of course i fuckin’ can, pigtails. and actually, i’m pretty shocked how you haven’t grown a single grey ‘cause we all know how much of a hard worker you are.” his sarcastic comment about you almost makes you break into a fit of laughter, but you knew you shouldn’t feed into his ego—he’d become unbearable and you’d never hear the end of it, if you do.

instead, you opted in flashing him an unimpressed look before budging the door open to his room. it still looked the same from what you remembered, since you only caught glances of it as he’d never let you in, except that the boyish teal walls were replaced by dull white paint now.

setting your bag onto the hardwood floor, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. “uhm, who sleeps where-”

“take the bed,” he replies a little too quickly, catching you by surprise. “it’s yours though. i’d feel bad if i took it.”

“look, just take it—unless you don’t mind sharing the damn thing-”

“we’ll share,” mouth moving faster than your brain, you already regretted the words you blurted out. it was now his turn to act surprised, “okay.”

“okay,” you affirm aloud, but directed it mostly to yourself…

why in the world did you say that?

dinner was eventful…

for some reason, the adults cried, laughed, sang, and fought all under the span of an hour and a half—to which you and sam sent each other concerned faces from across the room.

the night ended in both your guys’ parents passing out in their respective rooms, too drunk to carry on with the night and stay up for christmas. as a result, the two of you had to tidy up the dining room of their mess.

“they’re fucking animals when they’re drunk,” sam huffs, scraping the last of the dirty plates clean of leftover food. “what d’you expect, sam? they haven’t seen each other in two years,” you lean against the counter beside him, crossing your arms as you look at the boy. he only gives you a deadpanned expression as he starts loading dishes into the washer. “you can go now. i’ve got it.”

“sam monroe is offering to finish cleaning?” a gasp escapes your lips, shocked by this new him. “yeah, yeah. merry christmas,” he rolls his eyes, “now go, before i change my mind, pigtails.”

after freshening up in the bathroom and changing into your pajamas, which were unintentionally skimpy, you knock on sam’s door before walking in. he was already sitting atop his bed, shirt off and stripped down to his boxer briefs, flipping through his old collection of grunge cds.

glancing up from the limp bizkit record he was holding, his mouth slightly parts at the sight of you approaching him—well, rather his bed.

he feels his throat go dry as his eyes roam your figure. sam had always known you were pretty, even when his younger self denied it wholeheartedly out of spite, but when exactly did you get hot?

“so,“ you awkwardly clear your throat, suddenly self conscious under his gaze. despite the cold breeze of his room, you were wearing a henley and short shorts that left little to no imagination—at least they replaced the childish christmas pajamas you wore two years ago, “goodnight?”

“yeah, night,” he replies, short and sweet, before pulling the covers over himself and seemingly falling asleep almost instantly—and you try to do the same.

however, for a good thirty minutes, you were tossing and turning on your side of the bed. the wind was howling tonight, but it wasn’t the reason why you couldn’t sleep… it was because of a certain boy sound asleep beside you.

you couldn’t help but try to remember how he looked without his shirt off, abs revealed and his happy trail peeking through. to you, he looked ethereal after many years of hating him.

biting on your bottom lip, you knew you couldn’t stay any more longer in his room—you were suffocating in your own thoughts and desires.

pushing the thick covers off your skin, you slowly rose, hoping the old bed wouldn’t creak from your weight. you make your way to the flickering fireplace in the living room, watching the golden glow of the fire as you got yourself warm.

seconds later, a dark shadow emerges from the hallway, revealing a bed headed sam—but no, he hadn’t been sleeping. he couldn’t, not when you were breathing next to him in his full sized bed.

“was wonderin’ where you went?” sam’s voice was just above a whisper, raspy in a way where your insides flutter at the sound. turning your head to look back at him, your words begin to slur from how fast you spoke under the shine of the moonlight, “i needed some fresh air. did i wake you up?”

sam shakes his head, approaching the sofa you had made yourself comfortable on and sits on its cushioned arm rests. “it’s very hard to when all i could think about was how your eyes darkened at the sight of my ‘pj’s’, well,” he smirks, “lack of them.”

your breath hitches when you meet his piercing blue irises, a reminder of how much you’ve denied having a crush on the very boy who riled you up every moment spent together.

the boy turned man leans forward, brushing his nose against yours before whispering, “tell me to stop. tell me that it’s all in my head.” instead of doing what your mind was convincing you was rational in this situation, your lips found his desperately.

the kiss immediately turned filthy, the sound of teeth clashing and ragged breaths that had you yearning for more.

as much as he wanted to ravish you in the living area of the cabin, he’d much rather have you all to himself in the privacy of his bedroom. roughly wrapping your legs around his hips, he stumbles as he retraces his steps back to the room you both came from—too drunk on your taste.

the old bed creaks from the sudden impact of your body being thrown atop the mattress, causing it to jolt and slam against the wall. in a blur, you hook your leg behind sam’s knees to have him surge forward, needing his flush body to hover over you.

“fuck,” you gasp when his teeth sinks into the skin of your collarbone, desire taking over you senses, “need you so bad.”

clothing was then thrown across the room, making a mess that’ll soon be long forgotten. bare under the gaze of his eyes, his fingers ghost over the skin near your hips, eliciting soft noises that tested his self-restraint as he watches as you writhe from him barely touching you.

“whine a little louder won’t you, let our parents hear what their saintly kids are up to just a few door down,” sam whispers cunningly, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear. he was enjoying everything a little too much for your liking.

“you’re such a tease, monroe-” an unexpected moan tears through the room, cutting your snarky comment short, his tongue licking up your opening to your clit being the culprit of your pleasure. “you were saying?” that smug bastard, you thought to yourself. “shut up,” you push his face further into your cunt, feeling the smirk on his lips brushing over your slit. “yes, ma’am.”

his voice sent shivers down your spine, fisting his bedsheets in response to how handsome he looked in between your thighs. the fabric curled in your grip, breathless sighs falling from your lips as he hastened his movements—needing your release on his tongue soon.

“taste so good when you’re not bitchin’ in my ear,” sam’s lower jaw was drenched in a mix of his saliva and your wetness, turning him on even more. diving back into your cunt with fervor, he claws at your skin in an effort to pull you impossibly closer to him. when you finally feel yourself let go, your fingers roughly tug on his disheveled hair, while the other hand comes up to muffle the broken moan daring to slip past your lips.

begrudgingly pulling himself away from your cunt, his eyes land on yours—staring at him as if he moved the stars himself. with no more self restraint, you grab him by the nape of his neck and smash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue as he deepened the kiss.

as your hands trail from his waist and down to the band of his briefs, the boy tears his puffy lips away from yours. “you sure ‘bout this?” his hand cradles your cheek, waiting for an answer. “yes.”

that was all it took for sam to search for an unopened condom in his wallet laying atop the wooden nightstand. placing the foil in between his teeth, he tears it open and pulls the latex out of its packet—fumbling to sheathe himself with it. he couldn’t even form complete thoughts, he just knew he needed to be inside of you this instant.

lining himself up with your entrance, sam interlocks his fingers with yours—intimately pinning you against the mattress—and slowly surrenders himself to the feeling of your cunt.

“so tight, so good. gonna fuckin’ kill me with this pussy,” he breathes in deep, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of his cock. the room smelt of pure sex and traces of your sweet perfume—sam’s mind going feral. grinding your hips up against his once you no longer felt the pain of him stretching you out, a guttural groan leaves his mouth from the sudden strike of pleasure.

sam positions your legs high around his hips, angling himself deeper into your cunt—wanting to bury himself inside of you. his mouth ghosts over your skin, only leaving scarlet bites where they won’t be spotted by both your parents, still wanting to mark you as his.

you couldn’t stop the filthy sounds that amplified in volume as he continued to roll his hips desperately against yours, causing his palm to clamp over your lips with warning—needing to shut you up. “as much as i’m enjoying you falling apart, we can’t risk waking everyone at one in the morning from your screaming.”

“asshole.” your head is thrown back against the pillow, back arching in pleasure as his tip grazes over your g-spot. “have i ever told you how hot you are when you think you’re spitting witty insults at me? yeah, sweetheart. it doesn’t hurt my feelings at all.”

trailing open mouthed kisses up the skin of your torso, he takes one of your nipples into his warm mouth—tongue swirling around the bud.

as you whined into his hand, drunk on the feeling of his cock rutting into your cunt and his mouth exploring the valley of your breasts, your climax was pure bliss. sam follows soon after, collapsing right beside you with one last passionate thrust.

after laying beside each other for what it seemed like forever, his hand comes up to intertwine with yours. when sam finally turns to face you, you’ve never seen him this shy before, making you slightly giggle.

he leans in to steal a kiss from you, and you couldn’t help but melt into the way his lips moved against yours. cupping his rosy cheeks in your hands, you deepen the kiss with a smile.

“promise me you won’t act like nothing ever happened when we wake up,” he whispers, vulnerability in his eyes. “i promise.”

and you kept your word.

@cosmials

🏷️ : @cucumbermel , @edtomh , @clozeds , @l0singctrl

[florsials]

Hayden tries to work sick on the set of Ashoka and gets sent home. Reader takes care of him plz and thank you 😊

duty calls | h. christensen

pairing : husband!actor!hayden christensen x actress!reader

summary : an unexpected call interrupts a very important meeting, leading to you taking care of a very sick husband

warnings : tooth rottening fluff

notes : ahh i love this request!! and ofc i had to do it w/ my fav au 🥹

there was something off about hayden when he woke up this morning—and there was no doubt that you’d noticed.

but like the stubborn old man he is, he still decided to go onto set and film his scenes for ahsoka after driving leia off to her high school classes. he was just glad that he didn’t have to listen to the twins bickering in the backseat and potentially worsening his already pounding head, since luke decided to go study in the library earlier in the morning.

so here you were now, being bombarded by phone calls from your husband, while on a zoom meeting with the director and costar of a film that was currently in development. this was so unlike him, knowing that as a fellow actor that he wouldn’t disturb you at work with a call when he could just text you instead—something had to be wrong.

excusing yourself from the zoom call to answer your phone, a relieved sigh is heard from the other line. “hello, hayden?” you greeted, confusion written all over your face as you absentmindedly paced around the home office. “mrs. christensen?” an unfamiliar voice echoes from the phone, “this is dave filoni, one of the directors and producers on ahsoka.”

“nice to finally meet you, mr. filoni. hayden isn’t causing any trouble, is he? ‘cause he sure did back when we were filming the prequels,” you try to joke, wanting to ease your nerves and the bottomless pit you felt beginning to form in your stomach, “please tell me my husband’s all right?”

“i wish i could say that, but he began vomitting and having coughing spells just thirty minutes ago before passing out. it’s best that he rests at home for a few days, he’s been overworking himself for the past week.”

there was silence on the line for a minute or two, your mind going haywire from the unexpected update about your husband. massaging your temple to keep yourself sane, your words slur together as you quickly choke out, “i’ll be on my way to pick him up. thank you so much for letting me know.”

returning to the laptop sitting on your desk that still had the zoom meet running, you interrupt and let them know you have a family emergency that came up before closing out of the tab. as you grab your car keys that dangled from the hook, you receive a text from your costar that read, “hope everything’s okay xx”. replying with a quick “thanks”, you start the car even before you put your seatbelt on.

this man you called your husband was going to be the death of you.

“hayden!” you storm onto set where he sat off to the side, a couple of crew members monitoring his status as they checked current footage shot earlier today.

“honey, you’re here! i don’t feel so well,” he giddily chuckles, before the strength he had to keep his head upright fails. the urge to facepalm was strong as you watch him be so out of it, reminding you of how he acts while drunk. “yeah, and i’m here to take you home—courtesy of director filoni.”

“yay!” his hand fits on the small of your back, engulfing you into a bone crushing embrace. you feel how his skin is burning up but also notice how he shivers from his fever, and your heart clenches. quickly shedding off your coat, you wrap it around his figure as you walk him to the car.

“come on, you big baby,” hayden tries to steal a kiss from you, causing you to dodge it with a laugh, “the twins are so gonna make fun of you once they’re home.”

“wait, how are they gonna get home? i can’t pick them up and you’re too busy taking care of me!” he whines as you begin the drive back to the comfort of your shared bed. “honey, luke has his license. he already let me know he can drive himself and leia.”

the car ride back home was… interesting to say the least. you’d attempted to make a very stubborn hayden catch some sleep, but he’d gone on about how much he missed you while filming—even tearing up as he took your free hand in his and kissed your knuckles.

as you scrutinized his appearance during stop signs and red lights, you noticed how pale his face looked and how his adam’s apple bobbed every once in a while. “i can tell you’re trying not to puke all over the dashboard,” pulling over on the side of the road just minutes away from the house, you unlock the door so he could do his business. when he returns, a guilty expression is evident on his face.

“i’m sorry, honey, i’m so sorry,” hayden cries, not knowing what he’s apologizing for. “don’t apologize for not doing anything wrong, being ill is a normal thing. i just want you to feel okay.”

“but i almost threw up in the car!” a smile threatens to break through your look of concern, but you knew it wasn’t the time to laugh. “i care about you more than a stupid car,” your hand comes up to cup his face, “you mean so much more—and plus, i can always clean it up.”

pulling him into a hug, you card your fingers through his hair to let him know he’ll be okay. as you place one last kiss to his forehead, you continue driving down the suburban neighborhood you both called home. “let’s get you into bed now so i can take care of my hardworking husband.”

and he lets you, surrendering to your tender touch as you help nurse him back to health.

@cosmials

thank you so much @pmak2002 for this request!!

[florsials]

'tis the damn season | h. christensen

pairing : famous actor!hayden christensen x ex!reader

summary : years after hayden left for the silver screen, he returns to his hometown amidst the holiday joy. his plans for a short little stay in canada are ruined when he runs into you once again…

warnings : angst :c

notes : this is so bad and rushed—but whatever bc it’s angst!!

the cool breeze of the holidays blew through your hair as you walked into town.

last minute christmas decorations were being set up by the busy townspeople—the ones you grew up knowing all your life—but they still stopped to greet you when you passed by with wide grins across their face. flecks of snow gracefully fell from the sky above, sending shivers down your spine from the cold.

slipping off your leather gloves and the scarf wrapped around your neck, you enter the town’s local coffee shop. approaching the register, a relieved smile curls up your lips when you see your favorite barista working the counter.

“surprised you haven’t been fired yet,” you tease, taking an open seat on one of the barstools, “coffee please!”

“this addiction you have isn’t healthy anymore,” he pours a steaming pot into a mug he’s prepared in advanced—already knowing that you’d come in to bother him, “i don’t wanna become a liability if caffeine sends you into an early death.”

“funny,” as you playfully roll your eyes at him, he sneakily slips you a free pastry across the counter, “oh, so you’re bribing me now?” right as he was about to quip back with a witty response, his head shoots up towards the door where a bell announced a customers arrival.

“hayden?”

freezing in your seat mid laugh, your mind goes still as you hesitantly turn around… you haven’t heard that name in eight years. it was now a loss memory, one that you had buried deep in your mind, one that had occurred in your adolescence.

memories of secondary school scored itself as one of the greatest experiences of your life, but also one of the worst. it was where you first met him, the boy who had flipped your whole world right side up then upside down… hayden christensen.

he was a pillar of strength and a shoulder to lean on throughout the four wonderful years spent together during high school, but some things were never meant to last forever. just like you, he had dreamt big and embraced his aspirations in life.

the spotlight was where is longed to be.

hayden was the school’s theatre heartthrob, winning the lead male role in every drama production from how good he was. you were aware that he did commercials and played small parts growing up—his mother showing them to you when he first brought you home; and as a result, you knew he’d be offered roles from well known casting directors… you just didn’t expect that he’d get a call right after graduating.

of course you were immensely proud of your boyfriend when he got the role of scott barringer on higher ground, ecstatic even, but you both worried about busy schedules and long distance. he was off to go film in vancouver while you stayed back in your small town located in ontario to attend college. it was tough at first, not knowing if he wasn’t called onto set yet or when you weren’t in the middle of class.

but the two of you were able to make it work and by the next summer season, you and hayden were blessed to spend the violence of the dog days together. it was the rainbow after the storm. he finally had you back in his arms, cherishing every second he had with you under the golden sun and the ocean waves of summer.

and as much as you loved him, you knew you had to leave him soon to allow yourselves to grow without each other…

the fall of your relationship happened after you confessed that you accepted an offer to study abroad for the following school year, sending you across the world and further away from him. hayden had first revealed that he booked star wars and was off to go film in a few weeks, wishing that you could come and accompany him on his first hollywood role.

when everything was just seeming to fall into place, here was fate drawing you both away from each other once again… and you knew you had to end it now to minimize the ache you’d feel in your heart. not because he was going to be across the world in a different time zone; no, far from that… it was because you two were following different paths in life.

even ‘til this moment, the night of the break up is fresh in your mind, wondering if you made the right decision eight years ago as you’re here face to face with the path you chose to not follow.

hayden’s jaw slightly falters at the sight of you, his breath being taken away by your beauty even after all this time. the—now—man had always thought you were the prettiest girl in the universe, but time certainly brought out the best in you because you were absolutely enchanting.

your name falls from his lips when he greets you for the first time in years, an arrow shooting through your heart when his voice cracks after he mustered all his courage to say it. “hayden, hi,” gazing into his eyes felt like torture; he looked good—mature even—but hurt… and you knew it was your fault.

“i think i’ll leave you two be, duty calls,” your friend motions to the line of waiting customers and rushes behind the counter before his boss scolds him for being distracted on the job.

“so,” hayden’s voice trails off, not knowing how to make small talk with his ex, “how’ve you been?”

“all right.” that was such a blatant lie, you thought to yourself. clearing your throat to wash yourself of sin, a strained grin replaces the slight frown just seconds ago, “you?”

“yeah, all right—finally made it into the hollywood world,” the corner of his lips tug into a smile, attempting to sound humble about his newfound popularity amongst the film critics. “so i’ve heard,” sipping on the your mug full of coffee, you hummed nonchalantly, “i do have to admit, you played a real good anakin skywalker.”

“you watched?” the man seemed almost surprised about you supporting his work post-breakup. “i keep my promises, hayden.”

gazing into your eyes for any sense of deception, he finds that he’s still haunted by the look in your eye that revealed that you would’ve loved him for a lifetime.

he never actually took the time to realize just how much he’s missed you—but once he did, hayden knew he was so far gone. the man wanted to relearn every little thing about you.

“do you happen to be free this afternoon?” he asks, making you slightly chuckle at his sudden shyness. “it depends, why?”

“well,” hayden sucks in a breath, “i was hoping i could take you out—just for old times sake of course.”

“ah,” you begin to snigger, “dangerous game you’re playing.”

“worth it though.”

for the weekend, you and hayden found yourselves sleeping in half the day and riding around untaken roads—memories of your old high school love swirling into the present.

passing by the methodist church and the school across from it, the echoes of your guys’ giggles and calling each other “babe” lingers in the frigid air.

hayden sat shotgun, watching as you focused on the road. he had his fingers intertwined with yours, placing soft kisses from time to time as you drove through the town.

the domesticity of it all felt natural, but it was only a reminder for what he couldn’t have forever. he knew he’d have to go back to los angeles, film his lineup of movies, and forget about everything you both shared this holiday season… yet, he couldn’t help but quietly hope that you’d say something to halt his plans.

the man just wanted you—not the fame, not the fans, you… but of course, his mouth moves faster than his brain.

“i still love you.”

those four words ruined the whirlwind romantic rendezvous you both were addicted to.

your truck rolls to a stop in the middle of the road and you lean over to face him for the first time since you’ve entered the driver’s seat. “hayden, no. you don’t mean that.”

“but i do,” he cups your face in his hand, caressing your cheek with such grace, “i love you. i knew it from the day i first met you in school. i’ll drop everything for you, just say the word.”

“i can’t just snatch the life you’ve wanted since we were teenagers,” a sigh escapes your lips and you rest your forehead against his, “i cant, hayden. my conscience can’t carry that weight of a burden.”

“the life i want now is with you.”

“i love you too, hayden… but i want you to achieve those dreams,” a sorrow smile curls up your lips, “even if it means letting you go a second time.”

starting the car once again, you both ride in silence with nothing else left to say because…

in twenty-four hours, he will board a plane bound for LAX—his heart breaking when leaving the warmest bed he’s ever known.

in twenty-four hours, you’d go back to your simplistic life in your small canadian town—wondering about the only soul who knew which smiles you’re faking.

in twenty-four hours, you’ll no longer be each others for the weekend.

‘tis the damn season.

@cosmials

🏷️ : @cucumbermel , @edtomh , @clozeds , @l0singctrl

[florsials]

arrhythmia | a. skywalker

pairing : brother’s friend!pediatrician!anakin skywalker x kenobi!resident!reader, slight male!oc x reader (for plot and jelly ani)

summary : after completing medical school in naboo, you return to coruscant to complete your residency—unbeknownst that your brother’s close friend, anakin is working at the same hospital as a pediatrics physician. of course drama's bound to ensue in the medical world, swirling teenage affairs into the present.

warnings : SMUT, modern medical au, 3 year age gap (18 & 21 / 26 & 29), misuse of medical terms/processes (oopsies… might as well be considered medical malpractice instead), jealous ani (😛), lowk rushed slow burn, breast play, blood? (mentioned only from biting lip too hard), riding, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it, condoms prevent unwanted pregnancy and stds/stis), nsfw is near the end so if u wanna read it for angst and fluff ignore the last few paragraphs

notes : pretty ironic how i made anakin a pediatrician #ripyounglings… but can we talk abt the GLASSES look?? also this has been in my drafts since early september but i wanted to get it out before my “christmas ball”

coruscant general.

no other medical center could beat the number one standing hospital in the whole galaxy.

you considered yourself lucky enough to be accepted into their highly competitive residency program. it was a dream come true; you got to work with professionals across an array of different specialties.

but you were most ecstatic about finally being back home in coruscant. after spending eight years of your life studying medicine and graduating with a phd, you knew it was time to say goodbye to all that you’ve learned in naboo and put it to good use.

so here you were now, in your older brother’s home as he marveled over your retelling of experiences about life on the other country—glasses of wine clinking and childish laughter swirling into the conversation from time to time.

“how’s it being coruscant’s most famous attorney?” you teased, earning a chuckle from obi-wan. “come on, i wouldn’t say famous.”

“you quite literally handled the palpatine case.”

“okay, okay. maybe i am semi-famous,” he smiled, “but i’m still humble as ever!” raising an eyebrow, you eyed him down as you tried to stop the laugh that threatened to fall from your mouth, “were you ever?”

“oh, shut up,” your brother rolled his eyes, setting his glass down onto the wood. “my mind still hasn’t wrapped around the fact that you’re sitting beside me at this dining table. it’s been so long, junie.”

that stupid nickname obi-wan started calling you when growing up; it just stuck. only one other person teased you with that ridiculous name… but you were just thankful that you weren’t nicknamed junior instead.

“you’re saying that as if you didn’t just visit me about a year ago in naboo?” grinning from ear to ear, you brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. “it’s different,” obi-wan reasoned, his tone now more serious, “coruscant is our home.”

guilt bubbled in your stomach, “trust me, i did want to visit; but, a plane ride across the world as a medical student isn’t the best idea, financially, dear brother.” that was partially true, the other reason was because of your first love. the end of a relationship that never happened shattered your heart, an everlasting reminder that you’d never fully have him.

leaving was the only way to soothe the pain, even if it meant abandoning your family and friends for naboo.

“i know, but i wasn’t the only one who missed you. he still asks about you, anakin.” mouth parting slightly at the sound of his name, you took a long sip of wine from your glass. “what do i even say to that, obi-wan.”

“look, whatever happened between you two in the past-” you abruptly interrupt him by the sound of your chair screeching against the tiled floors, eyes widening in disbelief. “he told you?”

“i figured. you and anakin weren’t exactly the best at acting subtle. i actually remember that little crush you had on him growing up; it was cute seeing my little sister getting all flustered over a boy,” he teased, jabbing your rib with his finger, “honestly, i would’ve been mad if it was anyone else, but it was ani.”

you nipped at your bottom lip. it was so defeating that he still had the same effect on you as he did when you were young. eight years of trying to erase him from your memories were reversed by the simple mention of him from your brother.

squeezing your eyes shut to minimize the burning sensation you felt in your chest, you exhaled deeply in an attempt to cleanse your mind of the boy. “enough about ani- anakin.”

“i’m sorry for bringing him up,” obi-wan rests a hand on your shoulder, “get some rest now, you’ve got a big day tomorrow, doctor kenobi.”

a soft smile curls up before giving each other a friendly kiss on the cheek. watching him tipsily saunter through the hallway of his home to retire for the night, he unknowingly abandons you to drown in your thoughts.

taking another swig of the merlot, a sigh falls from your wine-stained lips. damn that anakin skywalker...

adjusting the white coat draped delicately around your figure, you walk through the entrance of coruscant general hospital headstrong. it felt like the end of a coming-of-age film, where the protagonist sees the start of something new in their life. after approaching the receptionist to check-in, you make your way up to your designated floor to meet with the head physician.

the sound of your heels haunt every step you take as you pace back and forth in the department lobby. it echoed throughout the airy space, sending chills down your spine. sitting down or staying still wasn’t an option, your body hijacked by nerves that controlled your every move.

“my goodness, you’ve grown,” a familiar voice had you stop dead in your tracks, head whipping around towards their direction as your heart thumped thunderously against your chest. a smile instantly creeps up your lips at the sight of qui-gon, an old family friend. “well look at that. we now have two kenobis dominating the fields.”

straightening your posture, you extend your hand out for a formal greeting, “it’s very nice to see you again, doctor jinn. thank you for entrusting me with this position.”

“no, thank you. we’ve all missed you while you were off studying in naboo," he affirmed, firmly shaking your hand and stuffing his stethoscope into the pocket of his scrubs. "i’m very sure that you’ll be a great addition to our team, doctor kenobi,” qui-gon ushers you into a hallway that led to the private lounge only for medical personnel, “and speaking of team, let me introduce you to them so you could get yourself familiarized—which i doubt would take long."

raising a brow, you were itching to ask about what he meant by that; however, you lost the opportunity when the older man quickly slipped into the break room without warning. “damn it qui-gon,” a huff escapes your lips as you tried to catch up with him. by the time you walked in, he was already halfway into a lecture when he noticed you by the doorway, “and before i forget, this is doctor kenobi, the newest on the floor.”

a female voice exclaims your name in astonishment when she sees you for the first time in eight years, approaching hesitantly before practically tackling you into a hug. “i missed you so much,” padmé, your babysitter during your younger years, smiles as she takes a better look at your fully matured facial structures.

once just a girly teenager prior to your leave, you were now an adult working in the medical field and achieving your dream. “look at you,” she sighs in awe, and figments of your past friendship with the woman resurface in your head.

even after about a decade apart, the bond created between you both still persisted against time.

you and padmé stayed like that for a while, catching up about the past eight years spent away from one another, before a figure hurriedly pushed through the crowd to get to the head physician.

it was abrupt, catching you slightly off guard.

“here are the ordered test results for the patient in room 66,” the anonymous man readjusts his eyeglasses as he hands the stack of papers to qui-gon. flipping through the numerous pages, he mentally curses himself, “thank you, i’ll go over these in my office.”

just as doctor jinn was about to dismiss him back to work, he took one look at you then back at him, somehow remembering that you two were once friends. “oh and, skywalker,” qui-gon clears his throat, before bringing you out of your conversation with padmé, “you remember kenobi, right?"

all you and anakin could do was stare into each others eyes, paralyzed by the nature of your reunion.

"how could i forget." your name falls from his lips when he greets you for the first time in eight years. what was rightfully yours, stung like poison when coming from him. “hello to you, too, anakin.”

the atmosphere in the lounge grew thick with tension, everybody’s attention now on the both of you; however, he had your full focus—but not in a good way. you were eyeing him down with your penetrating gaze, hoping it would send the message to not mess with you.

“doctor skywalker?” qui-gon breaks the staring contest with his sharp voice, “would you mind supervising doctor kenobi on the floor today?”

“of course, doctor jinn.”

fucking great…

the next four hours forcibly spent together was dreadful—at least to you.

following him into his patients’ rooms and completing boring paperwork together was enough to have your eye twitching… and you were an oncology resident.

anakin is a pediatrics physician.

why exactly did qui-gon jinn assign him to supervise you on your first day? did your brother have something to do with this? no, did he have something to do with this? your head was spinning during your lunch break, not being able to touch your food in the slightest as you felt like throwing up from how nauseous you were.

“how’s your shift been?” the one person you didn’t want to see takes a seat across from you in the hospital cafeteria.

“just peachy,” narrowing your eyes at him, you rush in gathering your belongings and heading for the exit; however, he still manages to catch up to you, trailing closely behind your figure.

and you just so happen to walk past his personal office—his name engraved on the professional, pristine plate hanging upon the door—causing anakin to hastily grab you by the arm as you both stumble inside. “what the hell, skywalker?”

“can you stop,” he grits through his teeth, face just inches away from yours. the nerve of this guy, you thought to yourself, “stop what?”

“acting like this! being awkward,” there was a long moment of silence and you felt like you couldn’t breathe within that ten second interval, “it’s not us.”

“there is no us, anakin. you made that very clear.”

“don’t do this to me, junie. it’s killing me to be standing here in front of you and having to act all professional, like nothing ever happened between us,” his hand rubs over his jaw, attempting to diffuse the tension he felt in his body, “like i never loved you. like i don’t still love you. that was eight years ago. i was an idiot eight years ago.”

“at least you know how it feels like now. it hurts, right? not being loved back. do you like the taste of your own medicine?” without giving him any chance to respond, you break out of his loose grasp and slam the wooden door shut when leaving.

anakin stares at the spot where you once stood, right in front of him, ears ringing from the loud impact of the door. you hadn’t left his mind all those years ago, and now that you were here, he couldn’t think straight.

“no, i don’t,” anakin whispers to himself in the lonely room.

he knew he messed it all up when it came to you and he regrets every moment leading up to when he shattered your heart. the man really did love you all those years ago, but he valued his friendship with your brother more.

taking a glance down at his watch, there was only five more minutes left to his break. after taking a big deep breath in, he goes into the next room to greet his next patient…

anakin didn’t come into work for that whole week.

not because he couldn’t bear to be near you—no, that was the complete opposite—but because he fell ill later that night. some kid came in with a vicious cold that left him bedridden with a high fever. by the time he was healthy enough to stand on his own two legs, he was whisked away to a three week long conference held in alderaan.

the man was exhausted once he arrived back home to coruscant, but knowing he gets to see you again gave him a short moment of relief; however, when walking into the break lounge with a hot coffee in his hand monday morning, he noticed your apparent closeness with doctor organa from radiology. he couldn’t stop himself from staring at how your lips curled up into a grin as you laughed at one of his many niche jokes—even when he felt a pang in his heart.

“you’ve been shooting lasers out of your eyes at organa and kenobi, skywalker,” padmé jokes from beside him, interrupting his negative thoughts, “it’s even creeping me out.”

“i’m not in the mood to be silly right now, amidala,” he grumbles, his head resting against the palm of his hand. “when are you ever? you haven’t been in a good mood in eight years, and that was when i told you she left for college abroad.”

“okay, ouch,” anakin gasps, feigning hurt at the woman who just gave an unimpressed look. just as she was about to give him a long teasing session, her pager buzzes, asking her to come check on a patient in the emergency room. “all right, don’t go killing yourself, ani,” she snorts when patting his shoulder goodbye before hanging her stethoscope loosely around her neck, “or another doctor.”

anakin sends a scowl her way and takes a long sip out of his coffee cup, wishing that it was filled with liquor instead. it was too early in the morning to be thinking about getting drunk tonight, yet he was here doing it while trying to concentrate on his breathing. he also hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when solo mentioned having dinner at some fancy restaurant, his whole focus was now on you both.

and when you had “enthusiastically” agreed, the boy thought his heart would burst at the seams from envy. it was supposed to be him, but he gave up that chance… and that will forever haunt him.

hours later, sitting across from doctor organa, a strained laugh escapes your lips at some boring story he was retelling from his childhood. everything felt forced somehow: you in a tight dress in front of him instead of your white coat, and a bouquet of your least favorite flowers laying at the edge of the table instead of your stethoscope.

you truly wanted to enjoy dinner with him; the desire to venture out and get to know someone new was the reason why you said “yes” to him in the first place.

but you couldn’t get his beautiful face out of your mind… you couldn’t erase anakin’s existence and the memories you had shared with him.

“so you and skywalker,” organa clears his throat, interrupting you from pushing around the food on your plate, “what happened between you two?”

“what d’you mean?” there was a defensive nature to your voice, almost as if you were found guilty of a crime. “nothing’s happened between ani and i,” his nickname slips past your lips too easily to be played off as an accident.

“i see the way he looks at you. i’m not a blind man.”

snickering, mostly at yourself for the situation you put yourself in, the sweet wine you had just sipped quickly turned bitter in your mouth. “well… we did share one kiss when i was eighteen. didn’t mean anything back then, doesn’t mean anything right now.” the words you spoke left a sour taste, knowing that you were lying straight through your teeth.

“that doesn’t sound very believable,” doctor organa chuckles, “you still like him, he still likes you. might i even say, love instead of like.”

“seems like the psychiatric department’s missing out,” you playfully roll your eyes at him, “you’ve got the talent of analyzing people and their situations.”

“witty response, kenobi,” a smirk curls up the man’s lip, “very witty response, but it wouldn’t be fair to me or to yourself if you stayed here when you obviously harbor feelings for someone else. so, you gonna go get him or what?”

“i’m sorry, i’m really sorry,” you managed to get out, just loud enough for him to hear you over the noise of tables talking. he offers an understanding smile before miming for the bill to the waiter from the distance, “it’ll be all right.”

with that, you rise from the uncomfortable wooden chair you sat on, straightened your dress, and rushed out the restaurant—a wild smile on your face as you hailed a taxi cab to take you to anakin’s place. the ride was full of anticipation, but you knew you made the right choice.

anakin skywalker stole your heart at six years old and kept it. he was always going to be someone that you want.

a faint knock echoes through the foyer of anakin’s home, making the man’s ears perk up at the sound. walking over to his front door, he notices that the porch lights were on.

who could possibly be bothering him at midnight, he thought to himself.

opening it as he adjusted the glasses sitting on his nose, his breath falters at the sight of you. it felt unreal seeing you stand right in front of him—he had thought you were avoiding him, furious at him even… so what were you doing at his house and not at your little date with doctor organa.

“anakin,” you sigh out, a relieved smile appearing on your face. how could your voice sound so perfect? “junie, what- why are you here?”

“i couldn’t… i couldn’t just sit there and pretend that i was interested in organa during our date. he’s not the one i want.”

“then who do you want?”

“you.”

that was all it took for anakin to engulf your lips into a searing kiss, one that was much more messy and sensual than the one shared years ago. he was insatiable when it came to you, pressing his mouth harder against yours in an effort to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming.

wrapping your thighs around his hips, you fist a handful of his grown out hair and a groan erupts from his throat. “thought you hated me,” the man mumbles as he pulls away for a breath of air, the taste of merlot still on his tongue from kissing you senseless.

“i could never hate you,” a hand comes up to cup his cheek, a chaste act in the midst of a heated moment—and in that moment, you both knew it wasn’t just sex now. you and anakin were going to make love. he beams wide, understanding what you actually meant—knowing that your actions spoke louder than words.

carrying you up the stairs and into his chilly bedroom, you both try to hold in the childish giggles threatening to slip past your guys’ lips as you slowly undress each other. he worships and litters your exposed skin in bites each time he peels a layer of clothing off, not being able to hold himself back. shivering as his fingers hover over your figure, he unclasps your bra in one swift move.

he doesn’t waste time in burying himself into the valleys of your breasts, swirling his tongue around your nipples and making you writhe at the feeing of his addictive touch. your panties were already soaked with your arousal and you knew anakin could feel it as he grinds his crotch onto yours.

in an effort to muffle your moans, you bite your plush bottom lip hard—enough to draw the tiniest drops of blood; but he, however, notices your quietness and takes slight offense to it.

“come on, baby, wanna hear you,” anakin surprises you by pinching your clit through the fabric of your panties, a desperate whine tearing through the silence, “there it is.”

“ani,” you gasp as he slowly reveals your pussy to the coolness of his bedroom, the man’s teeth grazing your skin as he slides your underwear down the rest of your leg, “need, fuck, i need you.”

“you really can’t wait any more longer, can you?” he teases with a light chuckle, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear to get a full view of your beauty. “cant let my girl, my junie, wait then.”

capturing your lips into a blissful kiss, anakin lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into your heat—a guttural groan escaping his throat when he feels your cunt already hugging him tight. “love you,” he repeats like a mantra until he fully fits his huge cock inside of you, “fucking love you.”

pure pleasure was the only thing you could feel when he starts moving in and out of you, bodies moving synchronously during the shared intimate moment. your mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape when he brushes against your clitoris, back arching and hair forming a halo around your head.

the sound of skin slapping together was filthy, but it was also harmonic when accompanied by the whispers of love you both exchanged as anakin hauled you impossibly closer to his toned chest—longing to intertwine his soul with yours.

from this angle he was able to see every freckle, every scar, and every wound that made you who you are—a reminder how he’s seeing every version of you now, but he still loved you just as much, with his whole heart. his kisses trail down from your hairline, to your flushed cheeks, to where your shoulder meets your neck, and to your bosom. you are the definition of ethereal to him.

his hands interlace with yours, pinning them against the mattress for a sense of dominance—but also to affectionately connect with you.

anakin was expressing his love for you in every way possible, repairing the damage done eight years ago in his youth. he was no longer afraid to cherish you—obi-wan can learn to accept the idea that his close friend and his little sister are together, he thought.

the man’s forehead rests against yours, his sapphire blue eyes deeply gazing into yours with passion. you take the time to admire his facial features: his sharp jawline, the faint scar across his eyelid, and his nose where his eyeglasses laid askew. “you’re so beautiful, ani,” a lazy smile curls up your lips, “i love you, every part of you.”

“i love you more, always had.” slipping his hand away from his grasp on yours, anakin caresses your jaw and brings your already swollen lips into a gentle kiss.

hearing the breathless sighs that fell from your mouth and watching your body writhe in his hold, he knew he found your g-spot—and after a couple more thrusts, anakin feels you cum around his cock.

“shit, i’m close,” he curses under his breath and slows his movements, “where do you want me-” before he could even finish his train of thought, you flip him over onto his back—with him still inside of you—and readjust yourself on his cock. “inside, fuck. please, ani, i want it seeping out of my hole.”

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” his fingers claw at your ass as you roughly grind your hips against his, face smothered by your tits in the new position you both were now in—but he wasn’t complaining; no, not at all. once he finally does release himself into your cunt, he doesn’t dare pull out.

after cleaning yourselves up in his en-suite bathroom post-sex, all giggly from the domesticity of it all, you both find yourselves tangling together in his bedsheets. he trails soft kisses across your hairline, whispering affirmations of devotion to you.

“at least we both don’t have work tomorrow,” you smirk against his bare chest, earning a groan from the older man. “wow, what charming pillow talk. i totally want to talk about work right now,” his sarcasm makes you laugh and you look up at him. “that means we have all night and all of tomorrow to… you know.”

“have sex?”

“no,” you jab his rib with a toothy grin, “to teach me how to use those stupid pagers.”

“oh, of course. need to help my girl master how to page a doctor while on call, very important,” anakin plays into your little antics, “well, we can start now.”

“uh huh. what’s our first lesson, doctor skywalker?”

“do you know what one-four-three means?”

“no,” sitting up, you were actually intrigued about what it meant, “pray tell.”

“it means ‘i love you.’”

@cosmials

i wanna write more about this au!! so maybe a part 2 soon if u guys want??