#probably a little bit presumptuous but hey! i want to try <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drwcn · 3 years

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follow up to [post] exploring the crack au if lwj was a girl

〒▽〒 ps im not trying to erase canon lwj representation, not at all, wangxian is mm in all my other fics, this is just stupid fun

in a ceteris paribus situation aka all other things staying equal:

1) Lan Wangji 100% still has a resting bitch face, which probably would get her a couple of “Lan-er-guniang 美若天仙 (beautiful as an immortal/goddess) but would benefit from smiling more” comments but nobody is that desperate to die yet so, she’s spared. But damn... imagine the sheer number of thirsty boys who’d try to secure a marriage with LWJ. None of them is good enough for Wangji as far as Lan Xichen is concerned. Okay - maybe in Lan Xichen’s opinion, Nie Mingjue is good enough, but he couldn’t be less interested. I see her as I see Huaisang, Xichen please.

2) Everything interaction between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian in Wei Wuxian’s first life is now 500% more scandalous.

Exhibit A) Their first meeting at the gates; Jiang Cheng immediately felt his spidey senses tingling. —“You’d sooner have immortals flying out of your ass than get with someone like her. The second jade of Gusu? The pearl in old man Lan’s eyes? C’mon.” —“Shut up, A-Cheng.” —“Uh-huh.” —“Also, she’s not that pretty. Her brother Zewu-jun is much better. There’s a reason he’s ranked first.” WWX is still a disaster bi. — “LMAO, you? Zewu-jun? Please.”

Exhibit B) Just because LWJ is a girl does not mean WWX grew more brain cells.

WWX, straight up to Lan Qiren’s face, “Lan-meimei and I - we’re zhiji.” (he means it like we’re kindred spirits, peas of a pod, etc) LWJ: *does not deny* Lan Xichen: ⚆_⚆ Lan Qiren: ಠ╭╮ಠ

Exhibit C) Lan Wangji getting drunk the first time. Wei Wuxian knew he crossed a line the minute he invited Lan-er-guniang for a drink. Really, WWX, even for you, this is inappropriate. When Lan Wangji fell face first onto the table, Wei Wuxian knew, he fucked up. “Hey....hey...Lan....Lan...-er-guniang,” He poked her. “Don’t...don’t sleep here! You can’t sleep here! If your Uncle finds out or if Jiang-shushu finds out...they’ll skin me alive and then...and then they’ll make me marry you! I don’t want to marry you; you don’t talk and I’m too young!”

WWX, being a dipshit, “Hey Lan Zhan, call me Wei-gege.” LWJ, drunk as fuck, “Wei..gege.” WWX *((( heart )))* ???

Exhibit D) The Cold Pond. Okay, so I don’t think Zewu-jun would sabotage his sister’s virtue by sending a stupid teenage boy her way while she’s bathing, but doesn’t mean Su She is above all that. Wei “I didn’t see anything I swear!” Wuxian. Lan “I will gouge out your eyes.” Wangji. Somehow they still end up in the cave. Maybe WWX got in the water after LWJ got out and got sucked into the vortex and LWJ heard the commotion, turned around, saw WWX had disappeared. “Wei Ying?!” A panicked LWJ jumps back into the pond, “Stop fooling around, come out!”

Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing 👀👀 when LWJ and WWX fall out of the cave together. Also the fact that Lan-er-guniang and Wei-gongzi went missing, together, for two days. Who knows what could’ve happened. I mean anything really. I mean... that’s gotta stir the pot a little were it not for the Yin Iron stealing everyone’s attention away from this bit of juicy scandal.

Oh the whole story... so much to work with, so little time.

3) Because Lan Wangji is a girl, now suddenly there’s a high ranking member of the Lan Clan who can host the girls at Cloud Recesses. I mean, Mianmian, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, Lan Wangji - SISTERLY FRIENDSHIP. Other than Mianmian, none of the girls are really talkers which suits Lan Wangji perfectly. Even Mianmian’s chatter is endearing.

4) Lan Wangji is absolutely still a powerhouse during the Sunshot Campaign. The inherent aesthetics of fem!lwj telling the Wen goons to “kneel” - no one will deprive me of this. Also she will still cut off your arm if you cross her - Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao ya better watch out still.

I am TORN between two options: Lan Wangji tol and kickass or Lan Wangji smol and kickass. On one hand, the aesthetics of willowy elf-like LWJ, on the other hand, 5′2′’ of whoop ass who can and will throw an unconscious wwx over her shoulder firewoman-style and toll him to safety.

And amongst other things:

A) Lan Wangji still becomes Chief Cultivator, because excuse me who else is left to clean up this mess? Jiang “Short-fuse” Wanyin? Nie “I won’t do what I’m not intended to do” Huaisang? Jin “13 year-old” Ling? Or Sect Leader Yao? Technically, being a woman means that she was never Lan Xichen’s heir, but at the end of it, it’s not like Gusu Lan is left with a lot of choices. Just the poetic justice of Gusu Lan pleading for Lan Wangji to come back when she fully intends to 隐居山野 (retreat into the mountains) with the resurrected WWX.

Lan Wangji being Chief Cultivator would echo Lan Yi’s tenure and rectify the fact that Gusu Lan’s only female head of family “failed”. Lan Yi had to face a mountain of prejudice because she was woman; someone has to say “up yours” to that. A woman as not only the sect master of Gusu Lan but the Chief Cultivator? Love that for Gusu Lans. (⌐■_■) ☞ ☞

B) Because of ~ sexism ~ I wonder if Lan Wangji would get titled “Hanguang” at all even after the Sunshot Campaign. Even Lan Yi, the SL Lan of her time didn’t have a title. Chances are LWJ won’t either. (Note: Violet Spider is not a title, it’s a moniker). So — say after the way Lan Wangji is still just “Lan-er-guniang”, and she does not obtain the title “Han Guang” until after she leaves Cloud Recesses and become rogue. (srsly how did they come up with these titles in canon, did gusu lan just look at 21 year old lwj and be like yah he’s lord light bearer *cue trevor noah stand up joke* why do you call yourself “great” britain? isn’t that a bit presumptuous? shouldn’t you go around doing good things and then let other people come to the conclusion: oh britain look how great you are? same logic with lwj.)

Lan Wangji, a Jade of Gusu or a nameless rogue, still goes where trouble is, helping those who need it. After laying low for a year or two to heal, Lan Wangji began night hunting. Donned neck to ankle in white silk and tulle, and a weimao (wide brimmed veil hat) obscuring her face, she became known to the people as Hanguang Sanren, the lightbearing wanderer. Gusu’s highest power probably has some idea who she is - or at least they can guess - but the vast majority of people don’t.

C) Lan Sizhui raised by rogue Lan Wangji as his mum would be different. Still cultured, respectful, but definitely with an air of keeping others at arm’s length.

For instance, grown-up Sizhui running interference and saving a cohort of gentry disciples on joint hunts.

Jingyi: 这人谁呀？Who is this guy? Zizhen: 多谢兄台搭救之恩，小可看您眼生，敢问兄台尊姓大名，何门何派，改日当登门拜访. Many thanks for saving us. I don’t believe we’ve met, pray tell what is your name and sect, so we may visit at a later time to thank you for tonight. Sizhui: 在下无门无姓，单名思追。举手之劳不足挂齿，怎敢劳烦各位名门子弟答谢。My name is Sizhui, belonging to no family and to no sect. As for tonight - I only did what anyone would; it bears no mentioning and requires no thanks. Jin Ling: 你这人，看你工力不凡，想和你交个朋友，可你怎么遮遮掩掩的。Hey you, we see you’re a talented cultivator and want to make your acquaintance. Why are you so dodge-y? Zizhen：金陵 — Jing Ling - Sizhui: 若是有缘，还会相见。告辞。If it’s fated, we will meet again. Farewell.

Later: Jingyi: 思。追。思追谁？Si. Zhui. To recollect and long for whom? Sizhui: 母亲的一位故人. Someone from Mother’s past. Jingyi: 你父亲？...Your father? Sizhui: 我不知。I don’t know.

I thought about how cute it would be if sizhui and jin ling knew each other but guys...Jiang Cheng literally thinks he killed Sizhui’s biological father. Like he literally thinks he orphaned Sizhui before Sizhui is even born. And Lan Wangji would never accept anything from Jiang Wanyin, not that it would stop Jiang Wanyin from trying.

A package of books here, a new robe for Sizhui there. Lan Wangji doesn’t know how Jiang Cheng keeps finding her. She and Sizhui are nomadic.

D) The inevitable conversation after wwx is revived.

You know what would be funnier than Jiang Cheng thinking Sizhui is a wangxian baby is if Lan Qiren thinks Sizhui is a wangxian baby.

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lmao what is this #cql ficlet #corie fics #lwj fic #f!lwj

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motherjoel · 4 years

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get her (spencer reid x fem!reader)

summary: you finally get a boyfriend after pining for spencer for years, but spencer is suspicious of him

a/n: idek how i got this idea but i hope you guys like it lol. also we all know how sassy spencie gets when he’s upset afbjvbadas

wc: 2.3k

warnings/includes: some language, angst & fluff

“Someones looking chipper today,” said Emily as you walked into the bullpen with a smile on your face.

“What, just cause we catch serial killers for a living, I can’t have a good night?” you asked and shot her a wink. This caught JJ’s attention from a desk over.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Who’s the guy?” she asked, opening the files on her desk. You blushed for a moment before deciding to indulge them in the details.

“If you must know, his name is Justin and we’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now,” you smiled, giggling at your friends reactions. Garcia was nearby, pouring herself a mug of coffee.

“Wait, my ears were burning. Are we talking about love?” she asked, taking a sip of coffee and leaning on your desk.

“I wouldn’t call it love, but it’s something,” you wiggled your eyebrows. Spencer and Derek entered the bullpen together, walking over to the crowd you had assembled.

“Woah, how come I wasn’t invited to the party?” Derek asked, setting his bag down at his desk and joining the rest of you. Spencer lingered near your desk, curious about the gathering as well.

“Well, Y/N here has a special someone…” Emily said, raising her eyebrows. You didn’t notice Spencer visibly deflate from beside you, but JJ did. Spencer had confided in her about the crush he had on you- he never planned to act on it, but now that he knew you were taken, he regretted keeping it to himself. Spencer was almost thankful when Hotch left his office to announce a case. He didn’t want to hear the “dirty details” (as Garcia called them) with this Justin guy. What kind of name is that, anyway, he thought. Everyone stood up to make their way to the conference room before Hotch stopped them.

“A child was declared missing after her family was killed. Time is of the essence, we will debrief on the plane,” he said. Everyone grabbed their go bags and you shot a quick text to Justin, letting him know you wouldn’t be home for a few days. Spencer noticed you smiling at your phone and looked away, trying his best to ignore it.

After debriefing, everyone was scattered throughout the jet to go over their files and come up with theories. You normally sat with Spencer- he was your best friend in the office- so you made your way to the seat across from him. Although he was your best friend, you hadn’t mentioned Justin to him before today. You’d had feelings for Spencer when you joined the team, but you never thought he would feel the same way so you did your best to move past said feelings. They still lingered, however, when you fell asleep basically on top of each other on many jet rides home, or when he would bring you your favorite coffee on fridays. You decided that the best thing to do was to get in a relationship, which you did. Spencer didn’t look up when you sat across from him on the jet.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him before,” you said, feeling bad that you kept a relationship from your best friend.

“Hm? Who?” Spencer asked, feigning cluelessness.

“Justin, my-uh, my boyfriend,” you said. Spencer tensed.

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything,” he shrugged and looked back down at his files. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but he was acting weird.

“I know, I just feel like… you’re my best friend, and I should have told you about him,” you said, suddenly feeling foolish. Your use of “best friend” seemed to warm Spencer up.

“Really, Y/N. It’s fine, as long as you’re happy,” he said with a soft smile. You nodded and silently opened the manila folder, returning focus to the missing girl.

You had been working the case nonstop for hours without any leads, and you were feeling hopeless. After a long time of staring blankly at an evidence board, you excused yourself to call your boyfriend. Once you stepped outside, you hit call, only to be sent straight to voicemail. That’s weird you thought. You didn't want to bother him if he was busy, so you sent him a text.

hey, it’s a pretty rough case and I just wanted to call and talk to you. call me when you get the chance <3

You hit send and walked back inside, visibly deflated. Spencer took notice of your disappointed slouch, but remained focused on the profile, as did you. A call from Garcia came in after you had all been sitting in a stumped silence for a good 20 minutes.

“Guys, there was a little girl who just called the police, she claimed to be Sammie Smith,” said Garcia, voice laced with concern.

“Were you able to triangulate the call?” asked Hotch.

“Unfortunately no, but let me play it for you. It sounds like there's some sort of train in the background,” Garcia said, proceeding to play the audio. You all listened intently.

“Spence, how many trains go through the geographic profile?” you asked, walking over to the map Spencer was looking at and leaning down next to him, unintentionally pressing your chest to the side of his arm.

“Um, just one, but the unsub could be keeping her anywhere along the tracks,” Spencer said, ignoring the feeling of your warmth.

“Garcia, can you play it again,” asked Prentiss, leaning on the table.

“Sure thing.” You all listened intently.

“It sounds like the train stops during the recording- maybe she’s being kept near the station? Garcia, what’s the address of Sammie’s uncle?” you asked, thinking about a possible lead.

“Let me see… it’s 327 Lavender Road… which is a block from one of the train stations in the geographic profile,” she said urgently.

“Thanks Garcia,” Prentiss said as you all raced out of the conference room and into your SUVs.

The case was successful- or about as successful as catching a serial killer could be. You had saved Sammie’s life and she had an aunt across the country who would care for her. As you all piled onto the jet, you checked your phone again for a text from Justin. Nothing. You sat with Spencer on the couch, taking a deep sigh.

“He still hasn’t texted you back?” Spencer asked, looking between you and your phone.

“How did you know?” you asked, shoving your phone into your pocket.

“Well, you left the conference room yesterday and you came back discouraged, and you’ve been constantly checking your phone since then. Basic profiling,” he said, pulling a book out of his bag.

“Hey, whatever happened to the moratorium on profiling each other,” you said with a raised eyebrow. Spencer shrugged.

“I don’t know, I was just skeptical of this Justin guy. I mean, maybe there was a reason you didn’t tell any of us about him until now,” he said nonchalantly. You felt a little sting.

“Spencer, don’t you think that’s a little presumptuous? I mean, you didn’t tell any of us about Maeve,” you said. Spencer snapped his eyes back up to you. You felt bad bringing up his old scars but you needed to defend yourself.

“What’s this got to do with Maeve? At least she returned my calls,” he said, more angry than before.

“Spencer, why are you being like this?” you asked, getting the attention from the other team members now.

“Why am I being like this? I wasn’t the one who took a break from our job to call a boyfriend that won't even call me back,” he snapped. His eyes widened a little when he realized what he had just said. He had hurt your feelings. You stood up, tears brimming in your eyes. “Y/N, wait-” he started.

“No, I get it. I’m just gonna sit over there,” you said, grabbing your things and moving to the opposite end of the jet next to Emily. Spencer watched you walk away and he had never felt more guilty. He looked at Morgan who was sitting nearby and witnessed the whole fight.

“What do you have against Y/N dating?” Morgan asked, moving to sit next to Spencer. He seemed to already know the answer.

“Don’t make me say it,” Spencer put his head in his hands. Morgan clapped his shoulder, laughing lightly.

“Reid, we’ve all seen you two together. You guys cuddle on the jet home after cases. Cuddle. Spencer ‘I don’t shake hands’ Reid is tangled up with a girl he doesn’t even call his girlfriend,” Morgan said, shaking his head.

“She has a boyfriend Morgan. I’m in love with her and she’s-she’s taken,” Reid said, more quietly now. Derek widened his eyes.

“Damn, this ain’t no puppy love then. You’re in love with her?” he asked, taking on a more concerned tone. Spencer nodded his head, resting his chin on his hand and looking at you, trying to get some sleep in the uncomfortable chair. You probably would’ve slept better next to him.

“Then you gotta get her,” Morgan said before standing up and walking back to his original seat, putting headphones on. Spencer thought about what Derek had said, but decided that he would wait a bit. He wasn’t the type to just “get her.” With one last look at you shifting in your sleep, Spencer opened his book and tried to read, being only plagued with thoughts of you the entire ride home.

You exited the jet even more tired than you were before, if it was possible. After fighting with Spencer, you just wanted to see Justin. You wanted to prove to yourself that he was real, that he was a good guy. So, the second you got back to the office, you hopped onto the metro and took the train to his apartment, saying quick goodbyes to most of the team. Spencer not included. You walked up to his door and gave a knock, which was met without a reply. You tried again before wiggling his doorknob a bit. It was unlocked, which was odd for him. You began to worry a bit, so you decided to go inside and check it out. Your gun was drawn, just a precaution, when you heard screaming coming from his bedroom. You ran quickly to his room before bursting inside, pointing your gun at the source of the noise. Or, sources.

He was on his bed, presumably naked, under the sheets. Next to him was a woman you didn’t recognize, similarly naked. You opened your mouth in shock, slowly lowering your gun.

“So this is why you weren’t answering my text,” you said, still in a state of shock.

“Y/N, I-” Justin began.

“Nope. Nuh uh, I’m good, I’m… I’m gonna go,” you said, tears brimming in your eyes. As you stormed out of the apartment building, you walked and walked until you had finally stopped crying. You felt so stupid. And you were lost. With a sigh, you pulled out your phone and called the first number that came to mind.

“Hey, uh I’m lost and… can you pick me up?” you asked, sniffling a bit.

“Send me your location, I’m on my way,” Spencer said before hanging up. You sat down on the sidewalk and sent him your location. He lived nearby, so it only took a few minutes for him to arrive. Once he saw you, he stopped his car and got out, sitting next to you on the ground. You sniffled back a few tears.

“I found out why he wasn’t answering my calls,” you said, fiddling with a pebble you found on the ground. Spencer looked at you, waiting for you to continue. “Turns out I wasn’t the only woman he was fucking,” you said, standing up angrily. Spencer winced at your harsh language. You started to cry again, this time from anger. “But I’m okay!” you said pacing for a bit.

“Don’t lie to me,” Spencer said, watching you warily.

“I mean, god! How could I be so stupid to think I had finally found someone?” you asked angrily, repeatedly kicking a lamp post.

“Y/N…” Spencer stood up and walked over to you.

“No, I’m an idiot!” you yelled, angry tears streaming down your face. Kick, kick kick. When kicking wasn’t enough to satisfy you, your fists began to bang on it repeatedly. Poor lamp post.

“Y/N stop!” Spencer said, trying to grab your fists. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said, gently grabbing your wrists and turning you to face him. You took one look at his face and collapsed into his embrace, both of you sinking to the ground as he held you and shushed you, whispering confirmations in your ear. “Just breathe, breathe,” he said softly, stroking your back. Once you had calmed down, he spoke again. “Hey, look at me,” he said, and you did, looking up at his sympathetic face. “You deserve someone who values you,” he said softly.

“Like who?” you looked down at your entwined hands, heart drumming against your chest.

“Like… like me,” he confessed, eyes flickering down to your lips. You slowly removed your hands from his and put them on the sides of his face, gazing into his sparkling eyes.

“I don’t deserve you,” you said softly. As if to prove his point, Spencer leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, tasting your salty tears. You pulled away after a moment, savoring the way he tasted.

“You deserve everything,” Spencer said before kissing you on the forehead. You giggled and pulled him in by his tie, slamming your lips together again, this time with more intensity. He was surprised at first, but his hands quickly found their way into your hair as he moved in synchronicity with you, eventually pulling away for air.

“I love you Y/N, I always have,” he said, breathlessly.

“I love you too, Spencer Reid.”

taglist: @rigatonireid, @yesimaunicorn, @aworldoffandoms

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reid #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/oc #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner

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fangirlovestuff · 3 years

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Chris proposing on valentines day?

a/n - making this a hc because it takes me less time to write them and i really wanted to get one fic out on actual valentine’s :) the other ones will be up later this week probably🤞 thanks for the request nonnie, i hope you enjoy this!! and happy valentine’s day to all<3

Be Mine - Chris Evans x reader

warnings - a really small mention of smut, other than that it’s all fluff:))

this valentine’s chris asked you if you wanted to go on a little weekend getaway

“i’m sorry there aren’t surprises this year, i just didn’t know with your work and things-”

“it’s okay babe,” you cut him off, “i don’t need surprises. a weekend away does sound nice though,” you grinned.

“great!” he smiled, “i’ll get the tickets,” he pecked your lips

you got to the hotel two days before valentine’s, spending the time mostly lazing around

and, you know, utilizing the bed for other things

valentine’s morning, you woke up to chris already being out of the bed

you frowned slightly, and then you heard the faint murmur of his voice, following it to the kitchen of your hotel room

“yeah ma, i’ll tell her,” he said, on the phone, “love you too, talk to you later,” he added quickly when he saw you were awake.

he hung up a couple of moments later, putting his phone down on the counter and grinning as he came close to you

he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, your head coming to rest on his chest

“good morning,” you mumbled, still pretty sleepy, and very content in chris’ arms

“good morning,” he answered, his smile apparent in his voice, and then suddenly backed away from you

you were about to frown when you saw him excitedly reaching for a flower that you had failed to notice before, picking it up from the table and extending it to you

"be my valentine's?" he smirked

even then you could still see a faint blush on his cheeks, making you giggle

"of course," you grinned, taking the flower from his hand and kissing his lips gently, because you hadn't brushed your teeth yet

a little later, when you were more awake and sipping your coffee, you remembered to ask, "hey chris, what did your mom tell you to tell me? before, when you were on the phone?"

"oh, just that she misses us and happy valentine's day," he shrugged

"aww, she called just to tell you that?" you smiled, "your mom's the sweetest"

"she is," he smiled, not addressing the first part of your sentence, a detail you obviously paid no attention to

"so, any plans for today?" you asked, taking another sip

"well, i thought we could eat something, then maybe look around the city, shop a little," he raised his eyebrows as he said the last part

"really?" you smiled, "and you wouldn't be too miserable shopping with me?"

"of course not," he said, getting up to put his mug in the sink, but stopping next to you, "i'll be with you," he kissed your temple before moving away to the sink

"sap," you grumbled under your breath, a grin stretching on your lips nonetheless

you spent the day wandering around, shopping a little, but mostly strolling around with your hand clasped tightly in his, your fingers intertwined

you made him try on some things too, of course

"now i remember why i don't do this," he grumbled half-heartedly, taking the shirt you handed him and heading towards the fitting rooms

"i thought i said you wouldn't suffer?" you inquired, amused.

"i said i'd be with you," he pouted

"well, i don't think people would take it well if i got into a fitting booth with you love," you giggled, pecked his lips and pushed him inside

when you two got back to the hotel it was almost time for dinner already, and you took a quick shower before he did

you were contemplating what to wear to dinner when he came out of the shower, drying off

"where are we going to dinner?" you asked, eying the two outfits in front of you

"oh, i thought we'd stay in since our flight leaves pretty early tomorrow," he said, putting on a polo shirt, "i could coo-"

"yeah okay, no. i'll do the cooking," you smirked, "and you... set the table or something," you shrugged, smiling teasingly

"fine," he rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips as well

you got to cooking you two some dinner and when you were done you saw the table was set, with a couple of candles lit

you smiled to yourself

"chris, i'm done with the food!" you called out, putting it on the table before sitting down, and in two seconds chris was there, sitting down as well

"happy valentine's day," you smiled at him from across the table, and he took your hand and squeezed it in his, smiling back

you were eating your food and then you looked up at chris

"everything okay?" you asked, noticing he was being less talkative than usual

"yeah," he shrugged, "i'm fine."

"okay. because you know if anything was wrong you could tell me right? and if you didn't i'd snitch to lisa and she'd tell me," you smirked

"i know," he chuckled, "i called her this morning to make sure she wouldn-"

he suddenly cut himself off, and your head snapped up to look at him

"what's up?" you raised your eyebrow at him, putting down your fork, "should i call lisa and have her tell me?"

and you were only half-joking

"well, if i already sabotaged myself... i guess this is something that you should hear from me," he said, smiling softly, and before you could react he got up and took something out of his pocket

when he got down on one knee, you realized what it was and took a sudden gasp, a smile stretching onto your previously concerned face

"i called mom to make sure she doesn't tell you," he said, "because i know you two conspire against me," he smirked. "and also," his voice softened, "because i was nervous." he swallowed, "because i knew that if things would go right, today will be the first day of the rest of my life. our life."

you were smiling so hard you felt your face was about to split in half, and you bit your lip to contain yourself from interrupting him

"i hope you know how much i love you," he continued with a smile, "and i hope you'll let me keep you for the rest of our lives. i want to be by your side forever," he let out a shuddering breath, "i want to see you smile, and make you smile, and be your valentine always. but also your monday, and your tuesday, and every other day, because i'd be with you. so," he smiled, "will you give me the greatest honor of marrying me?"

"yes," you nodded ecstatically, slipping down from your chair to the floor, "yes, of course i will marry you!"

you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly before letting go, and the second you were far enough his lips were on yours, kissing you with a love you thought only existed in fairytales until you were lucky enough to meet chris

you broke apart, both of your eyes shining with tears of happiness, and you bit your lips excitedly as he slipped the ring onto your finger

"and by the way, mom told me to tell you she knew you'd say yes," he smiled, "but i felt like it was a bit presumptuous to say that before you said yes."

you giggled at that before simply kissing him again, expressing your feelings in a way you simply couldn't say in words

and he kissed you back like he understood, no words needed.

i’d love to hear your thoughts, and i hope you had a great valentine’s!!<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fluff #leila's valentine's sleepover

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whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years

Text

to be honest, capable (of holding you) (part 1/3)

He walks forward, crouching over the snake, and when it doesn’t stir at all, he works up his courage and pokes it, just a little. Its scales are warm and smooth under his fingertip, and he resists the urge to stroke them. He doubts he could get away with that.

“Janus?” he asks, trying to keep the somewhat hysterical laughter from his voice. “That you?”

Thomas didn't know that Janus could turn into an actual snake, but he's glad to hang out with him regardless. More than glad; ecstatic, even, because he's been trying to figure out how to befriend him for ages, and this seems like a good first step. What he can't figure out is why human-Janus is being so weird about it.

(Alternatively: Janus doesn't trust easily. He wishes he could stop trusting Thomas— it would be so much less terrifying.)

Chapter Warnings: brief fear of strangulation (no actual strangulation occurs)

Chapter Word Count: 2,926

Pairing: platonic Thomceit

(part 2) (part 3)

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

It starts with the snake in the sunshine.

Thomas supposes that’s not entirely right, because in order to be truly accurate, he would have to acknowledge that ‘it’ started a long, long time ago, when he was a kid, or perhaps even when he was a baby. He’s not certain; he’s never thought to ask any of the sides when, exactly, they developed. And he’s also not certain when they became… the way that they are, instead of just being regular, non-sentient parts of his personality like literally everyone else on the planet is made up of, when his heart became someone called Patton, his logic someone called Logan, and so on. But he doesn’t think that any of that is particularly relevant for this specific situation, so for all intents and purposes: it starts with the snake in the sunshine.

He spots it when he’s coming down the stairs, and promptly stops up short on the third to last step, because, snake. In his apartment. And he knows that things like this happen in Florida, knows that wildlife has a tendency to encroach on human settlements (and he has heard enough horror stories about alligators in people’s backyards to last a lifetime, thank you), but it’s never happened to him before, and he’s not sure what to do about it.

It’s lying in the sunlight slanting through the window, coiled tightly, unmoving. It is white, with dappled yellow patterns all across its back, though there appears to be some kind of black marking on its head. It’s fairly large, too, far larger than any snakes he’s seen outside of a zoo, and he briefly entertains the notion that this might be a zoo escapee, though he’s not certain of how that would have happened. Or of how it got into his apartment in the first place. He definitely would have noticed it sneaking through the door, right?

He manages to overcome his initial fear, carefully dismounting the last few steps and approaching cautiously, sure to stay out of striking range. He doesn’t know much about snakes, doesn’t know how to tell if this is a venomous one or not, and he’s not taking any chances. Though, isn’t it something to do with the shape of their heads? Don’t venomous snakes have pointed heads? That sounds right. And this snake’s head doesn’t look particularly angular, so perhaps he’s safe, though he still doesn’t want to get bitten, venomous or not. The next step should probably be to call animal control and let them handle this.

Something about it seems off, though. Something in its markings, perhaps, that particular shade of yellow, or that odd blot on its head—

Wait. That can’t be right.

He stops. Takes a few steps forward, squinting. Goes so far as to rub his eyes, because perhaps there is a spot in his vision, fooling him into seeing something that doesn’t exist.

But no, it’s still there.

The black spot on its head isn’t a natural marking at all. He’s still not entirely sure his eyes can be trusted, but for all the world, it appears as though there is a tiny black bowler hat perched between this snake’s eyes.

And just like that, everything clicks. All the fear rushes out of him at once, leaving him breathless with relief. He can’t say that there is no apprehension about this new set of circumstances, and a healthy dose of confusion is steadily building, but this is far better than there being an actual, real snake in his apartment.

“Janus?” he asks, trying to keep the somewhat hysterical laughter from his voice. “That you?”

Slowly, the snake lifts its head, looking up at him with slightly glassy eyes. For a few seconds, they both participate in what has to be the strangest staring contest of Thomas’ life. Thomas loses, because the snake that is probably-almost-definitely-Janus doesn’t seem to blink.

Snakes don’t have facial expressions. Thomas is fairly certain of that. And yet, he gets the distinct impression that Janus is waiting for something; it’s in the gleam of his eyes, the slight tilt of his head, almost like he’s issuing a challenge.

“It’s totally cool if it is,” he clarifies, raising his hands. “Uh, you can feel free to stay there as long as you want. But uh, I just wanted to make sure that it was you and not some random snake.” He smiles, casting about in his mind for something to say. He’s not yet sure how to talk to Janus, not sure how to interact with him now that he’s offered up his acceptance, but he’s certainly going to try his best. He wants to get to know him, wants to understand him better. He deserves nothing less. “There’s only room for one snake in this apartment.”

Janus stares at him for a while longer, and then nods, a fluid, intelligent motion that is slightly disturbing coming from something that looks like an animal, but Thomas can deal. If his sides can shapeshift into his friends, and puppets, and giant frog monsters with abs, he can cope with his snake-like side becoming an actual snake. It’s hardly the weirdest thing he’s ever seen.

Janus returns to his coiled up position, apparently intent on taking a nap, and frankly, Thomas can’t blame him at all. A nap sounds great right about now. He’s not entirely sure why Janus has chosen to do so here, rather than in the mindscape; he’s certainly never seen any of the other sides sleep in his apartment. But he’s hardly about to make Janus leave, even if he’s bemused and a bit discomfited, so he wanders off to grab a snack and get back to editing, leaving Janus to sleep in the sunlight.

He’s gone by evening, and Thomas isn’t entirely sure when he left. It’s a few days before he shows up again, in the exact same spot, in the exact same sunbeam, and Thomas greets him but otherwise leaves him be.

From then on, it sort of becomes a thing. On cloudless days, Janus pops up as a snake to sun himself in the living room. Sometimes Thomas will chat with him, making idle conversation that he’s not sure is listened to, and sometimes he stays silent, content to do his own thing while Janus does his. It turns into a comfortable habit, on his end, at least, and he hopes that Janus is comfortable with it too. He thinks he is; at least, he never gives any indication otherwise.

He’s still not sure why exactly this is happening, but he hardly feels the need to complain.

But then, Thomas walks downstairs one day to find Janus staring directly at him.

He pauses, thrown by the change to their routine. Most of Janus’ body is curled in on itself, like usual, but his head is reared, and as Thomas watches, he sways back and forth slightly, a constant, seemingly automatic motion. His tongue flickers in the air, but he makes no sound, neither hissing nor speech, and though Thomas isn’t sure that he’s capable of talking while he’s like this, he’s heard him hiss a few times, so this silence is unnerving.

“Hey,” he says uneasily. He gives a half-hearted little wave, which he regrets almost instantly, feeling like an idiot. “Uh, is something the matter?”

Janus looks pointedly to the window behind him, and then back to Thomas again. It only takes Thomas a few seconds after that to realize what the issue is.

It’s raining.

And not a light rain, either, not the kind that casts grey shadows over the world and taps gentle, soothing rhythms against the windowpane. This is a storm, dark and furious, wind whipping and tearing into the trees and sending gust after gust of the torrential downpour against the glass. It is late afternoon, but it may as well be night for how dark the sky is. There is certainly no trace of sun poking through, and thus, no light for Janus to lie in.

He walks closer, though hesitantly. “I’m not sure what to tell you, buddy.” He winces as soon as he says it; ‘buddy’ doesn’t fit Janus at all, feels too presumptuous, like he’s assuming a closeness that doesn’t yet exist. He’ll keep trying. “I can’t control the weather.” He pauses, looking back to the snake, who has drawn up slightly, his head now almost level with Thomas’ waist. “Um, is there not anywhere in the mindscape that you could find some sun?”

Janus hisses, loud and sharp, opening his mouth to flash some fang. Instinctively, Thomas takes a step back.

He’ll take that as a no.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I’m not sure what to do, then,” he says. “It’s supposed to be like this all day.”

Snakes cannot look disappointed. They cannot glare. They are literally incapable of those facial expressions. So how Janus is managing to convey angry dejection is absolutely beyond him. And he doesn’t know how to comfort him, doesn’t know if comfort would even be welcome; in a way, Janus is a lot like Virgil, not that he would ever dare to speak that opinion out loud. They present themselves entirely differently, but at their core, they are both proud, stubborn and guarded, if in varying ways. Thomas has learned Virgil fairly well by now, knows how to slip past his walls, but Janus is a different story.

But still, seeing him so disappointed doesn’t sit right with him. So he reaches out on instinct, running a finger down the scales just past his head in an attempt to offer comfort through touch, and he doesn’t realize that this may have been a mistake until Janus stiffens, going completely rigid and still. He pulls his hand back hastily.

“Sorry!” he says. “I should’ve asked first, I’m sorry.” He frowns, glancing from Janus to his finger and back again. “You’re really cold. Is that normal?”

Snakes are cold-blooded. He does know that much, knows that they rely on external factors in order to maintain their body temperatures. He just never thought that such a restriction would apply to Janus, considering that he is, in fact, an imaginary snake and not a real one. But if he’s wrong, if Janus truly does need an outside source of heat in order to stay warm himself, then that would explain his distress.

Janus hisses at him again and ducks back down, curling into himself until he resembles a convoluted knot, his head nowhere to be seen. It’s almost upsettingly cute, not that Thomas would risk voicing such a thought. He crouches down instead, considering his options. Would Janus accept his help, if he offered it?

There’s only one way to find out.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Um, look, I can’t turn on the sun for you, but you look super uncomfortable, so if you wanted, you could… wrap around my arm, or something? Body heat would help, right?” He hesitates; Janus is fairly long, probably about five feet, possibly a bit longer, so the logistics might be a bit tricky. But he’s sure they could figure it out, if Janus would be amenable. Slowly, he stretches a hand out again, placing two fingers on Janus’ scales and stroking them with a feather-light touch. He really does feel cold.

Janus uncoils himself, hissing loudly, but he leans into the contact in a way that almost seems like desperation, like he’s trying to steal all the warmth he can from Thomas’ fingertips. And after a moment, the hissing stops, and he regards Thomas with an almost wild stare.

“Really,” he presses, unsure of what Janus is thinking. “I wouldn’t mind. Unless it’s not something you’re comfortable with, in which case, that’s fine, we could figure out something else. I… might have a heated blanket?” He casts back in his mind, trying to figure out if he does, in fact, possess a heated blanket, or if he just used to have one and is remembering incorrectly. If he doesn’t still have it, he’s not sure that he owns anything else that would help; snakes like heat lamps, he thinks, but he definitely doesn’t have one of those. Could he turn on the oven and set Janus in front of it? Would that work?

He is jolted out of his thoughts by the sensation of Janus’ head rubbing into his hand, like a cat seeking attention. He freezes, and so does Janus, and for a long moment, they have another one of those staring contests. Then, Janus sets his head primly on the back of his hand, still staring, as if asking for permission. Something bright and warm blooms in Thomas’ chest, and with his free hand, he gestures to his arm, trying to suppress the grin that wants to spread across his face.

Janus hesitates for a second longer. Then, he slithers up and around Thomas’ arm, and Thomas shivers at the sensation of frigid scales sliding across his skin. At first, it seems as though this won’t work, that Janus is simply too big to settle comfortably, but Thomas watches in fascination as Janus begins to shrink, landing on a much smaller size, perhaps two feet long, a length that can wrap around his arm with ease. Somehow, throughout the process, the tiny bowler hat remains perfectly balanced.

And just like that, there is a snake looped around Thomas’ arm.

“Alright,” he says, trying not to sound as giddy as he feels, because this is the closest he feels like he’s gotten to making a personal connection to Janus in months. “Okay, cool. Um, I was planning on getting some more editing done, so you can just hang out while I do that, I guess. Feel free to hiss at me or something if you get uncomfortable.”

Janus remains silent, which he will take as a good sign. In fact, he remains silent for the better part of an hour, lazily regarding the computer screen as Thomas attempts to wrangle his filmed material into something worth posting. He ends up doing most of the work with one arm so as to disturb Janus as little as possible, but he finds that he doesn’t mind. After a time, he almost forgets that Janus is there at all, becomes accustomed to the chilly weight of his scales on his arm, the slight movements as he shifts in place every now and again.

But then, those slight movements become bigger movements, and Thomas stills, tensing as Janus uncoils and begins to slither his way up his arm and under his shirtsleeve. His breath catches, and chills shoot down his spine; Janus is warmer than before, but still cool, and the sensation as Janus moves across his shoulder and emerges from his shirt’s collar is odd, unfamiliar. He exhales shakily as Janus continues to move, looping himself around his neck several times, just tight enough that Thomas is very aware of his presence, of the fact that there is a snake coiled around his neck, and as much as he knows that Janus will not physically harm him (and probably couldn’t, even if he tried), there is an element in his hindbrain that is gibbering at him, insisting that everything about this situation is a very bad idea, and that he needs to remove the threat.

God, he hopes Virgil isn’t paying attention to this. Except, judging from the way he’s feeling right now, judging from the almost audible oh god oh god get him off get him off, he definitely is, and Thomas is very surprised that he’s held back from showing up in person.

And then, Janus lets out a whistling breath and tucks his head between the coils and Thomas’ neck, and all the tension leaks from Thomas’ body as his rational thinking catches up to the situation. The way Janus is gripping him is nowhere near tight enough to cut off his airflow, and it never was, even though he seems to be pressing up as close to his skin as possible. But why--?

Was his arm not warm enough?

“You good there, Janus?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He receives no response, neither a hiss nor any additional motion, so he tries again. “Are you, uh, asleep?”

Again, no reply, so it’s probably safe to assume. He smiles, wide and unrestrained, and powers down his laptop. The storm outside has calmed to a softer rainfall, pattering against the windows, and other than that, the world seems quiet and still. It’s earlier than Thomas usually goes to bed, but he actually feels like he might manage to fall asleep if he tries, and a little bit of extra rest never hurt anyone. He’s been working in bed already, thankfully, so while he can’t lie all the way down without dislodging Janus in some way, Logan won’t lecture him too much if he falls asleep where he sits.

He reaches over to the lamp at his bedside and turns off the light.

“Goodnight, Janus,” he murmurs. Predictably, he receives no response, but Janus’ scales still press against him in the dark, a comforting presence as he drifts off.

------

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @ldavmp4 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @sammy-is-obsessed @imlovethomassanders

As a note, I am willing to have a separate taglist for this fic if you just want to be tagged for the other two chapters. So if you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask! But please do specify which taglist you would like to be added to.

#sanders sides #ts sides #platonic thomceit #character!thomas #janus sanders #ts janus #my fic #i'm not gonna lie this whole fic is an excuse to get c!thomas to hug janus

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midnightsnyx · 4 years

Text

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 7

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.

a/n: we’re near the end! i hope you guys enjoy this part and thank you for reading <3

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none but FLUFF

Part 7

32 weeks

Ignoring tradition, you and Matt decided to have a single baby shower with everyone invited instead of a separate shower and a pamper party. It was more convenient for everyone and one party was less clean up, so bonus. What you weren’t expecting was for so many people to show up. You knew Matt had a big family but you didn’t think so many of them were invited. But, you did give Chantal and Taryn free reign to plan it so really, you shouldn’t be that surprised.

Most of his family was great and you get along with them wonderfully, especially some of his cousins who are around your age. But then there are the older women who are supposed to be mature, yet are giving you dirty looks and whispering things to each other.

It makes you self conscious because you know exactly the kind of things they are thinking and saying. It’s the exact same thing you’ve seen from some of Matt’s “fans”. Comments about how you got pregnant on purpose, and how it’s a shame now that Matt is stuck with you. You knew the comments were just people who were trying to get under your skin but knowing that some of his family and friends might be thinking the same was hurtful.

You do your best to ignore it though and focus on the people who are actually nice to you, answering all the questions they have about potential baby names, what brands you’re using for the baby, and other purposeless things. But the feeling is always in the back of your mind so at one point, you slip into Matt’s bedroom so you can just breathe for a moment.

This, of course, just gives you more time to worry about what people are thinking about you and how they’re judging you and before you know it, you feel like you might cry.

Stupid hormones.

A knock on the door breaks you from your thoughts and you look up to see Matt standing there.

“Hey,” he says quietly, shutting the door behind him and walking over to sit next to you. “you disappeared.”

“Just needed a minute.” You tell him, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks but the looks he gives you says you should know better by now.

“What’s going on inside your head?”

You shrug, not knowing how to explain without insulting his family. You don’t want him to think that you don’t like them, but you know he won’t leave you alone until you tell him why you’re upset.

So you try an approach you think he might understand.

“Do you ever feel like you’re being judged?” You ask quietly.

“All the time.” He answers easily. “Comes with the job description.”

“So you understand how it feels.” You say and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is that what this is about?” He nudges you. “You can’t possibly think they’re judging you, Y/N.”

“But they are! I see the looks some of your family and friends give me. It’s like they think I got knocked up on purpose.”

He shakes his head. “Who cares what they think?”

“You should care about what they think.” You say slowly, raising an eyebrow at his dismissal. “They’re your family.”

He shrugs. “You’re my family too.”

He says it so casually, so effortlessly and it’s like something just clicks in your brain and suddenly you have this overwhelming want, no need, to kiss him.

And that’s exactly what you do.

He doesn’t move at first when you press your lips to his, almost like he’s unsure about what to do and for a moment, you’re worried that you’ve ruined everything but then his hand comes up and cups your cheek and he kisses you back. You feel like you might melt straight through the bed and floor when he smiles against your lips and it’s absolutely perfect until Brady barges in the room.

“Where’d you guys- oh.” Brady freezes, eyes widening before he smirks. “Oh. I see what’s happening here. I’ll give you two a minute.”

“Brady.” Matt whines, dropping his head on your shoulder. “You’re ruining the moment.”

“Sorry! People were asking where you went!” He starts backing up and winks. “I’ll come up with a cover story. Have fun kids.”

“Brady.”

“Leaving! I’m going now!” He says, darting out the door and shutting it behind him.

Matt lifts his head, resting his chin on your shoulder instead of moving away. His eyes study your face as if he’s searching for any sign of regret but you smile to ease his worries.

“That was nice.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Just nice? I think I can do better than that.”

“Okay, it was better than nice.” You giggle, feeling giddy. It’s a bit of a foreign feeling.

“Kind of overdue, huh?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You been wanting to kiss me, Tkachuk?”

“Oh, just since we met. Y’know, not that long.”

“Matthew.”

“What? I’m serious.” He says and then sighs. “I know I kind of fucked up when we first met. I was a bit of an ass-”

“A bit?” You tease and he gives you a dry look but you know he’s not actually mad.

“Hey, I’m trying.”

“Sorry.” You say solemnly. “Go on.”

He presses his lips together to hold back a smile. “You were funny and witty and kind from what Johnny had told me so I asked him to introduce me. Probably wasn’t the best idea to do it when I was drunk but he’s always had bad timing.” He shrugs. “He’d mentioned that you were fresh out of a tough relationship and I just… I don’t know, I just said the first thing that came to my mind and drunk me thought it was funny. Which obviously, it wasn’t.”

“I know we’ve already kissed-” he points to your stomach. “clearly, but I’d like to think of this as our first kiss.”

You grimace. “That works for me because honestly, I don’t remember much of that night.”

“I must have been doing something wrong, then.” He jokes.

“Guess you’ll have to show me again.”

He grins. “Deal. But first, I’m taking you on a date.

. . .

“I knew he’d come around.” Taryn grins, finishing the last of your makeup. When she heard that Matt was taking you on a date, she begged you to let her help you get ready. You were going to ask her anyway because you wanted to spend as much time with her and Chantal as you could before they went home. It was unlikely you would be able to see them again until after the baby is born and that thought freaks you out because you’re nearly 33 weeks and your doctor told you that you can deliver as early as 37 weeks.

So you only have about a month left to prepare yourself for childbirth. Luckily, Chantal has been so helpful, answering any questions you have and you feel so blessed that you have her to help you through this.

“I knew it was coming too.” Chantal says from her spot on the bed. You’re half certain you saw tears in her eyes when you told her that Matt had asked you on a date but you cried too so you can’t make fun.

“You guys have been hoping for this, haven’t you?”

Chantal shrugs and hides a smile. “Maybe.”

Taryn nods. “The way you two look at each other totally gives away your feelings. It’s weird seeing Matt like that.”

“Like what?”

“Nice. Honestly, a little unsettling.”

“Taryn.” Chantal scolds and the youngest Tkachuk raises her hands.

“I’m joking.” She mutters. “Kind of.”

Chantal just sighs but smiles when she looks at you.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Your face turns pink from her compliment but it does mean a lot knowing that Matt’s mom approves of you despite the unusual circumstances. You know that some parents might have had reservations about the situation you and Matt are in but Chantal and Keith treated you with nothing but respect and kindness since the start of this and you will forever be grateful.

“Well, you’re all done.” Taryn says, stepping back to admire her work. “You’re going to knock his socks off.”

“Even being 8 months pregnant?” You ask hesitantly.

“Especially being 8 months pregnant.” Chantal assures you.

Her assurance makes you feel a little better but when there is a knock on the door, you’re suddenly extremely nervous.

“Come in!” Taryn yells and Matt pokes his head in with a grin on his face. When he looks at you, his eyes go wide and mouth drops a little.

He stutters over his words which makes you feel better.

“Cat got your tongue, Tkachuk?” You ask, trying to hide the pleased look on your face.

He shakes his head and grins, walking over and taking your hands in his. “Just admiring how beautiful my girl is.”

“Your girl? Awfully presumptuous.” You joke but your heart warms at his words. You can hear Chantal literally awe.

Matt just grins and leads you out of the apartment and to his car. He even opens the door for you and you raise an eyebrow but don’t comment.

“Do I get to know where we’re going?” You ask when he slides in the drivers seat.

“Nope.” He says, sending you a sly grin.

You know it’s pointless arguing with him so you just smile back and rest your head on the seat, watching out the window until you reach your destination.

. . .

Matt knows you better than you thought because instead of bringing you to a fancy, high end restaurant, he brings you to a small but cute diner the two of you frequently go to. He knows it’s your favourite and it make you happy knowing that he notices small things like this.

“This okay?” He asks once the two of you are seated. He looks a little nervous and you want to get rid of any worries that he has.

“It’s perfect,” you assure him. “I love it.”

And you, you nearly say and you almost fall out of your seat at the realization.

Do you love Matt? You care for him deeply, that’s not a question and you know your feelings for him have been shifting lately. The kiss proved that, but were you confusing love, with infatuation? Or were you starting to actually have those feelings for him?

The better question is whether it’s a good idea to let yourself have these feelings right now because while this is nice, the two of you are about to be parents and any strong feelings like that can make things messy, especially if Matt doesn’t feel the same way.

You know you’ll have to acknowledge and deal with these feelings soon but for now, you let yourself enjoy the night, stealing fries off Matt’s plate while he pretends not to notice and arguing playfully about baby names.

It’s a problem for another night.

......

a/n: i wanna be like OH WE GOT THE FIRST KISS but technically this isn’t the first kiss because, well, you know

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #calgary flames imagines #calgary flames fanficton #allies writing

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noona-clock · 4 years

Text

Him

Genre: College!AU, Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jinyoung x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 1,685

“And that’s all I got for you today, folks,” your professor announced before closing his laptop and ending the slideshow presentation. “Class dismissed.”

A low buzz of activity suddenly filled the lecture hall as your fellow classmates began to pack up their bags and then make their way to the door. Once you slipped your laptop into your backpack, you followed them, sidling down your row of seats and loping down the stairs.

Before you reached the door, though, your professor called out your name. “One second,” he said.

Your brow furrowed slightly, and you gripped one strap of your backpack as you turned toward him. “Yes, sir?”

“Are you still interested in a TA position?”

The wrinkle in your forehead suddenly smoothed out as your eyebrows rose. “Oh -- yes. Yes, absolutely.”

Last week, you’d asked your professor if he would need a teaching assistant for this class next semester. Unfortunately, he’d said ‘no’ at the time, but maybe now he’d changed his mind!

Your parents’ business had run into some financial trouble recently, so you would have to pay your own way through school from now on -- but it was way too late to apply for a scholarship this year, which meant you had to find a job. And fast.

Obviously, you would work retail or in one of the campus food halls if you had to, but a TA position was perfect for you and your organizational skills -- especially for a professor in the literature department.

“A colleague of mine was talking about needing one, so I thought I would tip you off,” he continued, and while it was little disappointing he didn’t need one himself, you couldn’t afford to be picky right now!

...You actually couldn’t afford anything.

“Thank you so much,” you replied, shooting him a hopeful grin. “That would be perfect.”

Your professor reached for a sheet of paper on the lecture stand and handed it to you. “It’s Professor Stewart, he teaches Medieval Literature.”

Well. Your major was British Literature, but hey. Britain was around in Medieval times, so you could totally follow along with the curriculum.

Hopefully.

You took the application from him, and he gave you Professor Stewart’s office room number before you thanked him again and headed out the door.

You decided to fill it out now so you wouldn’t get caught up in your studies and forget, so after exiting the lecture hall, you made a beeline to one of the study rooms in the literature building.

After scratching down your information and answering all of the questions in your favorite green ink pen, you hurried out of the study room and made your way to the offices on the second floor.

You searched the small numbers on the side of each door, looking for the one your professor had given you not even fifteen minutes ago. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw another figure coming down the hallway from the opposite end, walking toward you, so you stepped over just a bit to the side so he -- or she -- could get past you.

But when you found the office number you were looking for and stopped walking... so did the other person.

You shifted your gaze to look at this other person, quickly realizing it was a him.

And... a very handsome him.

“Excuse me,” he murmured, and you once again stepped to the side so he could get past you.

But he stepped to the side at the same time, like he was allowing you to get by.

“Sorry,” you chuckled awkwardly, now taking a step to the other side.

...But he did the exact same thing.

“I -- I’m trying to get to this office, actually,” you explained, your lips curved into a very clumsy grin.

“Oh,” the guy replied as his brow furrowed. “...So am I.”

And it was then you noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand just like you did.

“Are --” you gulped. “Are you applying for the --”

“TA position for Professor Stewart,” he finished. “Yes.”

You shifted your weight slightly and let out another awkward chuckle. “Me -- me too. I really need a job, and who wants to wash dishes in the dining hall, right?”

You weren’t sure why, but you anticipated the same sort of reaction from him. He would let out a nervous laugh, smile a bit anxiously, and wish you luck.

Instead, you got raised eyebrows. You got a very serious expression.

And you got, “I have the highest GPA in the department, and I’ve taken two of Professor Stewart’s classes before. You should probably just recycle that, if I’m being honest.”

It took everything in you not to jerk your head back with surprise.

But you did knit your brows together and say, “Excuse me?” in a very annoyed and confused tone.

“I’m going to get the job.”

You just kind of... stared at him for a few moments before letting out a disbelieving laugh. “What makes you so sure? My professor seems to think --”

“I already said,” he interrupted. “I have the highest GPA in the department. Professor Stewart knows me. He knows how impeccable my work is, there’s no reason why he wouldn’t accept me.”

“My work is impeccable, too!” you scoffed.

“Trust me. As soon as he sees my name on the application --” The guy turned his piece of paper around and tapped on his name.

Park Jinyoung.

“He won’t have to even look at yours.”

“Okay, getting hired simply because the boss knows you is called ‘nepotism.’ You know that, right?” you reminded him, trying your absolute best not to sneer at him.

One corner of Jinyoung’s mouth quirked, and he murmured, “Well, at least your vocabulary skills aren’t lacking.”

All right -- it was time to ask a question you should’ve asked about two minutes ago. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

Jinyoung immediately shook his head.

You narrowed your eyes in confusion, your forehead even more wrinkled than it had been just a few moments ago. “Do you always treat people you’ve just met like this?”

I mean! The guy was being incredibly arrogant and had just insulted you! ‘Well, at least your vocabulary skills aren’t lacking.’ Who says that without even knowing someone’s name?!

Jinyoung looked at you as if you were just a little bit crazy before he let out a soft chuckle and answered you. “No, of course not.”

“Ah, so I’m just that lucky,” you retorted, barely holding yourself back from rolling your eyes.

“Not it when it comes to getting this TA position.”

You actually laughed at that. You had to! Because the nerve of him! It was so ridiculous that you had to laugh -- otherwise, you probably would have punched him. And there was a good chance Professor Stewart would have found out about it which would have definitely hurt your chances of getting the position.

“I guess we’ll leave that up to Professor Stewart,” you countered with pursed lips. You reached over to open up the mail slot in Professor Stewart’s office door and slid your application through.

If Jinyoung had been a normal person -- meaning polite and not a total asshole -- you would have held the thin, metal flap open for him so he could slide his application in, too.

But he wasn’t a normal person. He wasn’t polite. He was a total asshole.

So, you didn’t hold it open for him.

You let it close with a fairly loud clang, turned on your heel, and strode away from him with your head held as high it could possibly be.

It wasn’t until you stepped outside of the literature building that you let out an extremely frustrated groan. Honestly, you felt like clenching your fists and stomping your feet, too -- but you would hold off on giving into those urges until you got back to your apartment.

Seriously, though! You had never in your life met someone so irritating and arrogant and annoying and handsome and aggravating and presumptuous as that guy! That -- that Park Jinyoung.

Ugh!

Hopefully -- if there was some higher being out there in the universe -- you would never run into him again. You hadn’t run into him before today, so it stood to reason that the odds of seeing him after today were pretty slim.

As you marched toward the nearest bus stop on your apartment complex’s route, you realized -- he hadn’t even asked you what your name was. You hadn’t given it to him, and even if he had asked, you probably wouldn’t have answered.

The fact he didn’t know your name was a pretty good sign that he probably wasn’t fuming about you as you were about him. So, you would let yourself be bothered on the bus ride home, and then you would stop.

You would stop thinking about his arrogance. His stupid little smirk. His dumb face. My word, did he have a dumb face. Just thinking about it made you even more angry than you already were.

But what put the icing on your angry cake?

His dumb face was just so perfect.

How sad that his extremely good looks -- and I mean extremely -- were wasted on someone with that personality!

Okay, you should probably just stop thinking about him now. The bus ride was far too long to let your thoughts go on like this. The bus wasn’t even here yet.

So, you took off your backpack and plopped down onto the bench with a sigh.

That was it. No more thinking about -- no, you wouldn’t even think his name. No more thinking about him. Instead, you would think about an email to draft and send to Professor Stewart once you got home. That was definitely more worth your time than... him.

In fact, by tomorrow, you were pretty sure you would forget all about him!

Yep.

Totally!

He would be 100% completely and utterly and positively forgotten.

Part 2

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Helping Hand - Chapter 3 (Jaskier x Reader)

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

Taglist: @100percentamess @mytinybaguette @platinum-meadow33 @wackiekebab @littlest-mushroom plus presumptuously tagging a few people who were interested @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @lilredbird101 @inmaidjan

Even though it’s been months since I started this series... even though no one’s requested Jaskier in forever... even though this is probably the least impactful thing I’ve ever written... I finished it! I hope it lives up to all the waiting you poor people had to tolerate!

“Are you awake?” you heard Geralt’s voice somewhere far away. You mustered all your energy to nod your head, but couldn’t open your eyes all the way. You felt like you were somewhere between sleep and waking, and it made you unsure if this was actually happening or some strange dream. “You’ve been asleep for nearly two days,” he explained. “Seems like the past week is finally catching up with you.”

You tried to speak but you were too weak, only soft groans emerging.

“Get some more rest. Maybe you won’t remember this conversation when you wake up. Maybe you won’t remember any of what’s happened…” he trailed off.

You fell back asleep, though you fought with all your might to stay awake.

You woke up and this time you actually felt well-rested, like you could just get up and walk around. You didn’t quite yet, just savoring the feeling of satisfaction, something you had forgotten about from your condition. You knew the curse had been lifted, it was like night and day with how you felt now.

Of course, though your body was well, your mind was not so well. You’d told Jaskier than you loved him, and hadn’t been around to hear a response. Your odds didn’t seem so good though, with the whole ordeal of him being entirely sure that you were delusional. Some of the things he’d said gave you hope, though. It was all sort of a blur now- you remembered thinking that maybe he loved you, too, but you couldn’t actually remember why you’d thought that.

There was a mug of water by your bed and you chugged it all in one go, so desperately thirsty after sleeping through the past few days. You were thankful that this thirst could be quenched so easily: you wouldn’t take that for granted again.

You heard the sound of pacing outside the door, and just from the way the footsteps sounded, you knew it was Jaskier. Geralt didn’t seem the type to anxiously pace, anyhow.

“Jaskier? Are you out there?” you called out. The footsteps stopped, but no answer. You frowned. “Let me try that again: Jaskier, I know you’re out there.”

The door opened and he peered in with a sheepish smile. “Are you alright?” he asked, but before you could answer, he added “You look better. Not so exhausted.”

“I think the curse lifted. Actually, I know it did,” you told him.

“Oh, well, that’s-- good,” he stuttered. He started to turn to leave.

“Hey! Come back,” you instructed. He turned back and you patted a space beside you on the bed for him to sit. He looked a little pained but he did it.

“You’re feeling well then,” he continued.

“Yes. I could probably sleep for another day if I wanted, but yeah, I feel… good. Normal,” you told him. He looked at the floor.

“Yeah, I guess it really wore you out.”

You wore me out, in the best possible way, you replied internally.

“Mm-hmm,” you answered instead.

“You’re sure it’s gone? You don’t… long for me?”

“If I do,” you replied softly, “it’s not because of any curse.”

He smiled weakly, as if you were making a joke.

“Right, well, anyways--” he started to stand up.

“You think I didn’t mean what I said. That it was part of the curse, too,” you posited.

He sat back down but didn’t look at you.

“When I said that I needed you, I meant that. And when I said that you were the best sex I’d ever had,” you tried not to blush as you remembered, “I meant that.”

“Well, it was only the best because you were all hopped up on magic,” he mumbled.

“No, Julian, when I said that… I was talking about the other time.”

He turned back to you with a raised eyebrow.

“The pub in Cintra. That was the best,” you clarified.

You expected him to make some sort of statement on that but he was silent.

“And when I said that I loved you,” you continued, “it wasn’t the curse. Saying it was how I broke the curse.”

“How long?” he asked, his voice coming out somewhat hoarse. You swallowed.

“A long time. I didn’t realise it until it was almost too late. But a long, long time,” you sighed.

"Good to know," he said wistfully, looking out the window.

"You're not going to… say anything about that?”

“I want to let you rest,” he defended.

“I can’t rest until you tell me if you feel the same way,” you said sternly. “I’m ready for the truth. Even if it’s that you want nothing to do with me.”

He looked at you with wide eyes. “Nothing to do with you? You’re my best friend!”

“Isn’t that exactly why you don’t love me?”

He looked away, and you looked to the floor as well. You just wished he would get it over with.

“After all this, I can’t believe that’s what you think this is about.”

You rolled your eyes. “Damn it Jask, I really don’t have the energy for this crypticism, alright?”

“I love you. Of course I do,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, “did you… did you really not know?”

You had never been so ecstatic and irritated simultaneously. “Do I look like someone in the know?”

He laughed. “No, I suppose not.”

“Lay next to me, won’t you?”

He slipped in under the covers next to you and your heart fluttered. How had you managed to jump this man’s bones when now he made you feel like a ditzy schoolgirl? Clearly the curse had dulled your nerves.

His arms wrapped around you and you tucked your head under his chin.

“It was awful to have you so close and know that it was all just a spell,” he sighed. “Or, think that it was all a spell. I mean, the sex was great, but I’m glad we can just talk for a bit.”

"Me too. And it was awful to have you so close and know that it was all just a favor."

“I can’t believe you thought for a moment that I had altruistic motivations,” he chuckled.

The weeks went by quickly, and you were sure you’d never been so happy. Not that Jaskier had that much competition to be your best boyfriend, with the resume of garbage you had behind you.

It was nothing like how you’d been when you were cursed. He was sweet, attentive, and you actually had learned a little patience. That said, you were getting a little antsy with the lack of intimacy. Since your little love-confession-meets-fainting-spell, he hadn’t taken you to bed once. You’d told yourself to just let it happen naturally, but you were starting to fear there was something wrong with you-- or him, but most likely you.

You really didn’t want to have a conversation about this, but you wanted to make sure everything was alright. You still put it off for quite some time anyways.

You stepped into his room carefully, watching him pick at his lute, which he quickly set aside when he saw you. He must have been able to tell instantly by your eyes that you were concerned.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked as you took a spot beside him on the mattress.

“Jaskier, you’ve been a bit… distant,” you began.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and I haven’t had sex with you.” You choked a bit. “Er, yeah, I was getting to that part. If you’re waiting for me to drag you into a closet,” you smirked, “I don’t do that anymore. Reclaiming a bit of my former classiness.” “No, I just…” he sighed, “I’m not sure I can compete with… myself?” You gave him a confused look.

“You see, before, you were under the effects of this ridiculous curse and it made everything so great and, I’m just not sure I can do that all again. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

You laughed at that suggestion. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

If telling someone not to worry about something made them not worry about it, the world would be a different place than it currently is. However, it did soothe him a little; enough, even, to make love to you that night.

The way he touched you, without the fever, without the delirium... it was something entirely unexpected. Every time you'd had him before, even the non-magically-enhanced time in Cintra, was at least somewhat quick and needy and fierce. You'd loved that, but it made it easier then to run from your true feelings. Now he was unraveling you with such delicacy that you were forced to confront the love you'd hidden for so long.

“Gods, I love you,” you groaned as if you couldn’t stop the words from spilling forth.

"Hmm, say it again," he requested softly.

"I love you," you whispered back.

He smiled-- no, beamed-- as he leaned down to kiss the shell of your ear.

"One more time, just for good measure."

"Jaskier, I love you," you whimpered, "and if you deny me your touch a moment longer I may lose my mind."

"I've seen you lose your mind," he recalled, “it’s gorgeous.”

“Sweaty, desperate and begging?” you grimaced.

“Exactly,” he smiled. “But that’s not what I want from you now. No begging. I’ll give you what you need. Don’t ask me for anything, please. Just let me love you. I’ll make it worth your while.”

You smiled. “You’d better.”

#I DID ITTTTT #jaskier x reader #jaskier x y/n #dandelion x reader #dandelion x y/n #the witcher fanfiction #jaskier smut #dandelion smut

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

Complexities Unknowable- Chapter 7 (Finale!)

Ao3, 1 2 3 4 5 6. MasterPost

Relationships: Deintruality, background Analogince

Warnings: Cursing, Remus-typical language and jokes, Minor self-deprication/insecurity, the ol’ ‘thinks-it’s-unrequited-and-is-oblivious-to-obvious-flirting’ song and dance, all sympathetic sides, feelings of being left out, also I accidentally projected too hard and now Patton has adhd oops.

Word Count: 4,000 (approximately)

Patton felt better than he could ever remember feeling. Sleep came easy as it hadn’t for him in years. It was amazing how far a little bit of understanding went.

When all your closest friends are together, you get lonely. Patton wouldn’t say that he was jealous, but everything was different now. When he used to spend time with the others, it was four pals spending quality time together! Now when they did, it was a date, except oops! Patton’s here too! How awkward!

He knew that was unfair. They didn’t really think of him that way, of course not. Hence why he didn’t bring it up.

It wasn’t like that with Remus and Deceit. Even though they were dating, Patton never felt left behind. Their humor was dark and snarky but accessible, not laden with inside jokes that he’d missed out on or specific clues that he didn’t pick up.

The inclusiveness they treated him with was probably borne from being excluded for so long, though he didn’t like to think about that. The fact was, the three were friends now, the past was past, and Patton was drinking in their companionship like fine wine (or, to be more accurate to himself, a grape juice box).

It did not take him long to figure out why he was so fond of their company. You can only spend so much time with Deceit prattling about the dangers of repression before you start to unearth all of those deeply buried feelings.

He’d fallen for the Dark Sides. Whoops.

Could you really blame him? Deceit, suave and clever and funny, yet so gentle when he wanted to be; Remus, bold and brash and energetic, but still with such a deep empathy hidden in him! It was no wonder that the two were already together- anyone who spent as much time with them as they spent with each other would be head-over-heels as well! (Patton was speaking from experience on that one).

Initial surprise regarding the feelings had soon faded to something almost comfortable. He was happy to have them as his friends alone, so what was a little crush? No big deal!

...Was what he had thought ten minutes ago, when there wasn’t an affectionate Remus wrapped around him, chattering off various compliments.

“I could hold you forever, Patty. You are just the softest, like a water balloon full of blood and organs! But still so ripped, I mean, damn!”

“Language,” Patton chided meekly, trying very hard to not dissolve into the ether.

“Awww, you can’t make an exception for me? Just this once? I’ll make it worth your while~,” the last part was a hushed sing-song right near Morality’s ear. He felt his face redden, but forced himself away to refocus on… whatever he had been doing.

“Nope, no exceptions,” he chirped, going back to- right! Cleaning!

“You aren’t tempted at all? You are so responsible- and that’s really one of the sexiest qualities there is.”

It was just Remus’ nature to talk to people like that, Patton told himself firmly. The Creative side was just expressing his friendly affection in a way that made sense to him. It came alongside being close to someone so unused to ‘typical’ friendship dynamics, after all. Patton reminded himself of this again and again, denying himself the desperate urge that welled up and told him to respond in kind. He would not purposefully misinterpret Remus’ actions for his own gain, he was better than that!

“Thank you, Rem,” just nice, platonic gratitude for nice, platonic compliments.

Eventually, finally, mercifully, The Duke had seemed to get bored. He disentangled himself from Patton (appearing rather crestfallen, though the moral trait wasn’t sure why), and wandered off.

But that, whether for good or for bad, was hardly the end of that.

Deceit’s room was magnificently cozy. It was armchairs that swallowed up whomever sat in them, warm lamps casting down on all surfaces, and jazzy music playing distantly in the background. In other words, the perfect place for a good cup of tea and some sandwiches, not to mention pleasant conversation.

Deceit lounged back in his oversized chair, sending Patton an inscrutable look across their teacups. The side smiled, hoping that was the appropriate response.

“So,” he drawled, switching the track of their conversation abruptly, “You’re something of a seamster, aren’t you?”

Patton stared blankly for a moment before the term clicked.

“Oh, you mean a seamstress?”

“Sorry, I thought you’d prefer the masculine, but that really was presumptuous of me,” Deceit amended in apology.

“I didn’t know that there was a word for it other than seamstress. Hey, isn’t it kinda weird how some jobs are like that, when you think about it? Like how there’s actors and actresses! Why wouldn’t ‘actor’ be all encompassing, ya know?”

Deceit made a vague noise of disinterest and waved his hand, as though manually cutting off the tangent in conversation.

“Yes, gender is a distasteful societal construct and an overall prison to our consciences, we both agree- but regardless, you sew. Make clothing and things like our quilt. Isn’t that right?”

“Right- yes.”

“Do you make all of your own clothes, then?”

“Hmm, sometimes I do- I mostly make stuff for the others. It’s easier to conjure simple stuff for myself, but making them is a lot of fun!” Morality gestured enthusiastically to the pastel pink sweater that he wore, fluffy and intricately patterned.

Deceit’s eyes glinted in a strange, intimidating, and also incredibly hot way. Patton almost forced the attraction out of his mind, before realizing that that kind of repression would definitely be noticed in this part of the Mindscape.

“I would have to say you have quite the talent, in that case,” the dishonest trait set down his cup and craned his body over the small table between them, heterochromatic gaze alight with… something. Patton cleared his throat.

“W-Why’s that?”

“You look positively hideous in that, my Dear,” he purred in obvious lies, gloved hands now sitting in the middle of the table and creeping forward by the inch.

“Aw, thanks,” Patton croaked, fighting the urge to lean forward in turn.

Something strangely disappointed flashed in Deceit’s eyes, but he quickly recovered. He reached out to run a hand along Patton’s sleeve, the touch lingering against his arm.

“My my, that’s just like a cloud. How did you manage that, Darling?”

Morality shivered as Deceit continued to toy with the fabric of his sweater.

“I-It’s probably because it’s made with love! Since that’s what I am, kinda,” he stammered, desperately trying to keep up the cheery tone.

“I’m inclined to agree. There’s beauty in all you touch, Sunshine.”

Oh, the pet names. Patton really couldn’t take it; he jerked away and pressed his back against the chair, before he had the chance to do something stupid. Honestly, it was sad how hard this was for him- Deceit was just trying to be a good friend! It wasn’t his fault that he showed it with flirts!

“You’re too sweet,” with distance reestablished, Morality found it much easier to formulate words, “I really appreciate you, Dee.”

Deceit blinked, still hovering over the table. He cleared his throat and snapped back into his seat, suddenly looking the part of the cold and distant Dark Side that Patton had feared just months prior. Guarded, callous, stoic. It was almost frightening, how quickly he changed.

“Yes, I know you do. Let’s change topics, shall we?”

Patton, feeling quite a bit of whiplash, nodded hesitantly. Their conversation continued to flow normally, for the most part, but he couldn’t help feeling that he’d messed up somewhere. There was something heavy over them, but Patton hadn’t the slightest idea what it was.

For a brief, dizzying moment, he wondered if they were moving backwards. If he’d somehow crossed a line when he was trying so hard not to, and now they were two steps back again. Just the thought of it made him too sick to finish his tea.

Patton didn’t have to be worried for long about that particular mishap, thankfully, as a very momentous occasion had swallowed up the fear. Remus and Deceit were going to be joining in their first ever movie night as part of the family!

There’d been plenty of TV marathons with just them and Pat already, but now they’d all come together! As part of the group!! Contributing to the voting and the arguing and the joking and the experience of it all!!! Needless to say, Patton was practically bouncing off the walls in his excitement.

He plopped down onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn, passing a much larger container of snacks to the amorphous blob of limbs and sass that had once been his three best friends, cuddled together far across from him. Now, all they needed were the Dark- sorry, former Dark Sides.

He wasn’t waiting for long before Deceit and Remus appeared in the living room (Remus, thank the lord, wearing actual pajamas). Patton couldn’t contain the happy little chirp that escaped him, scrunching himself to one side of the sectional so that they’d have plenty of room to make themselves at home.

Rather than huddling together in the crook of the curved sofa, however, Deceit immediately gestured for Patton to scooch over, and Remus sat on his other side. Morality was happy (if a bit surprised) to comply with this new seating arrangement, flashing them bright smiles. In light of recent events, being so close with both of them was a little dizzying, but it wasn’t too hard to bear. For now.

The conversation on which movie to watch that night was more agreeable than usual, which was nice; they got right to the marathon with little hassle. Patton sighed as the opening credits to Tangled played. At that moment, his life couldn’t get any more wonderful. Surrounded by the people he cared about, finally all together, it was perfect.

And then, a mere ten minutes in, Remus leaned his chin on Patton’s shoulder and pressed into his side.

“Mother Gothel is such a Milf.”

Patton would usually have been put off by the sexual comment, but at that moment Deceit had also seemed to decide that he’d make a good headrest. Which was fine, this was fine. Some mild friendly cuddling- nothing he couldn't handle!

Another twenty minutes later and Remus twisted an arm around his waist. Deceit held Patton’s hand between a couple of his own. By this point, they were beginning to look a lot like the cuddle pile wrapped up together on the other side of the couch. He was still alive, though!

Neither of the sides beside him moved an inch until the film ended, only begrudgingly letting go when Morality had to get up for a snack refill. Even then, they latched back onto him as soon as he returned. Thus began the second movie, and the beginning of Patton's slow and snuggly death.

Every few minutes, it would be something else: Deceit ran a hand or two through his hair, Remus hooked his leg around Patton’s, Deceit nuzzled against his neck, Remus laughed into his shoulder, et cetera et cetera et cetera.

Three movies in and he was barely keeping up with the conversation. His head was spinning and he was sure he’d never been so warm, but more than that he felt protected. Even adored. He wasn't often on the receiving end of affection, and the longing brought with it ached, but he never wanted it to end.

Then Virgil yawned (oh yeah, the other three were still there), exiting from the ending credits of All Dogs Go To Heaven and clicking back to the main screen.

“Bed time,” he grumbled, a tone so intimate and low and clearly meant for his boyfriends that Patton almost felt bad for overhearing it.

“It is getting quite late,” Logan agreed, standing to stretch. Roman followed suit and dragged a sleepy Anxiety up with him.

Virgil tossed the remote in Patton's general direction and let Roman haul him up in his arms (Deceit caught it with an unoccupied arm, given that the moral side’s brain was currently jelly). The three bid their goodnights and were gone with a few shimmers of color and a whoosh.

“I guess we should head up, too,” Patton murmured, working very hard to disguise his reluctance. To his surprise, the traits sandwiching him only sank further into his sides.

“Oh, you’re absolutely right, it’s so very late,” Deceit rumbled, his face partially hidden in the crook of Patton’s neck.

“Yeah, I’m exhausted. I can’t move,” Remus added, his voice ticking up in a noticeably mischievous way.

“I can’t either. We should stay, just like this.”

Patton's heart warmed, looking between their adorably sleepy faces. He couldn’t lie, the offer was tempting, but in such a situation his brain came back to him. Despite the continued proximity of his crushes, this was something he could handle!

“Aww, don’t you worry about it, I’ve got ya,” and, making very sure that his grip was secure, Patton stood up with Deceit and Remus cradled in either arm. He hardly staggered under the weight of the sides, familiar with such heavy lifting.

Remus and Deceit went from sleepiness to pure shock in a matter of milliseconds. Deceit instinctively clung to Patton with all of his limbs, meanwhile Remus gave a startled laugh. Their faces were a matching pink; oh, he could have made them uncomfortable!

“Is this okay? I promise I won't drop you.”

Remus nodded frantically; Deceit squawked in an affirming sort of way.

Relief washed over Patton and, satisfied with the response, he sank out in a circle of cyan. For a moment, he feared that the nausea that The Subconscious usually brought him would unsteady him, but he was left pleasantly surprised when he felt none. In fact, it felt just like rising up anywhere else. Just as easy as breathing. Hm.

He didn’t dwell on it too long, ascending The Subconscious’ staircase and bringing his cargo to the first bedroom he saw (Deceit’s). He nudged the door open with his shoe, carrying them right to the bed and dropping them down gently. Remus fell onto his back with a happy hum; Deceit stayed upright and stared at Patton with wide eyes. He huffed a laugh and nudged The Snake's shoulders, and Deceit let himself fall beside his boyfriend, dazed.

This was routine for Patton: grabbing the covers and blanketing his friends, as he’d done for probably every other side at one point or another (even Logan, though he would deny it furiously). Once Remus and Deceit were sufficiently tucked in, he stood up and dimmed the lights to near darkness.

“Alright, you two have a good night's sleep.”

There was a noise of approval from the pair. Patton gave them one last smile before disappearing back to his own room. To scream into his pillow and think about how gay he was.

Which meant that he didn't get the opportunity to hear the interaction that followed between Dee and Ree.

“Well, that didn’t backfire at all.”

“I want him to snap my spine in half like a glow stick. He could break every bone in my body and I would thank him,” Remus replied dreamily. Deceit hummed in agreement.

“Perhaps we should try a more… direct approach, as this doesn’t seem to be working in our favor.”

“I dunno about you, but I’m feeling pretty fuckin’ favored right now.”

“I was suggesting that we be more-” he very nearly gagged, “Straightforward.”

“More like gay-forward, actually,” Remus corrected, “But I’m with you! You know I love being direct.”

“Now when I say direct, I don’t mean blunt.”

“I don’t understand the difference.”

“I know you don’t. Let me do the talking.”

“Fine by me! Whatever works to get him to pick me up and throw me!”

Deceit rolled his eyes, settling his arms around Remus.

“Yes, yes- but I’m actually wide awake right now, and I’d love it if you keep being loud all night, Dearest.”

“Oh, right,” Remus lowered his voice, curling himself around the lying side in turn. Together, their breathing slowed. As they drifted to sleep, the feeling of Patton's arms around them still ghosted their skin.

Patton was cleaning furiously. He’d already reorganized the entirety of his room- twice, for that matter- and now he’d moved to the Common area. It hadn’t been so much as a week since his last tidying session, and the Mindpalace was pretty much spotless, but that was irrelevant. It was as good a distraction as any.

Maybe he was avoiding the trifecta of trifling traits- aka his best friends- because he knew that they’d ask about why he was being so weird lately. Maybe he was avoiding Deceit and Remus, the reason that he’d been weird lately. Maybe he was just avoiding his thoughts about them, because seeing them all cozied up and sleepy and adorable a couple nights ago really hadn’t helped settle his growing infatuation with them. Most likely, he was avoiding all three.

But he had failed to take into account that The Common Area was not the best place for avoiding stuff. Given that it was. A Public Space.

“Patton,” began the voice of Deceit behind him, in a tone deadly serious.

He spun around to see a very embarrassed Dee and an immensely giddy Remus. Well, Shhhhh-ucks. Shucks.

“Hey!” Patton tossed the sponge in his hand back into the sink and pretended that he wasn’t freaking out at that exact moment.

Deceit hardly registered the greeting, continuing:

“We need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

The Snake opened his mouth, and promptly closed it. His eyes had widened concerningly, and he cast his gaze downwards.

“We-” he cut off again. Patton’s worry was mounting.

“DeeDee?” Remus prompted, elbowing his partner’s side, “I thought you were doing the talking?”

“I-I can do this, I’m not tapping out,” his voice was frenzied, hiding himself behind The Duke in a rare display of fear.

“Guys? Is something wrong?” Patton approached them, all of his nervousness about his feelings forgotten in the face of this distress, “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

Remus gave him a warm smile, not hesitating for a breath.

“We came to tell you you’re hot and we wanna date you! But, you know how bad Dee is with words! Anyway, whaddya say?”

Deceit, for his part, nodded in deep resignation. And Patton’s head reeled.

He could hear, audibly hear his heart thumping against his ribs. It was probably as simple as a confession could get, but regardless he found himself frantically replaying the words over and over and over again. He’d never imagined- not even for a second- even the thought of it-

Mentally, he took a step back. Roman, Logan, and Virgil were an item. Remus and Deceit were an item. And Patton was a third party, paternal and caring and watching out for all of them and their misadventures, though he knew he’d never be entirely part of it. But maybe, now he could be. After everything, they wanted not to just be with him, but to be with him.

It didn’t process.

“I- You- What- Me?”

Because there is good in this world, Remus (correctly) interpreted his flustered stammering as surprise and not distaste. The smile that he almost always wore widened and he took a step forward, dragging the mildly less panicked Deceit along with him.

“You,” he confirmed, shimmying excitedly in place, “Definitely you. And us.”

“I second that not-at-all vague sentiment. We’ve grown unfortunately fond of you,” Deceit uncoiled himself from Remus enough to be seen clearly.

Patton saw it. He saw, in full light and understanding, the subtext in their previous interactions. And now that he did, he had no idea how he’d missed it. A testament to the power of his insecurity, probably. But that didn’t matter, because they liked him back.

Patton failed to words. But, they were very near, and he was very happy, and in the light of new context, he figured that they wouldn’t mind the response he opted for instead.

He hopped forward with a delighted squeal, scooping the traits up in his arms. Remus started cackling and immediately returned the hug with just as much fervor. Deceit wasn’t far behind for once, allowing his face to split with a smile equal parts shock, relief, and glee.

“Oh, I love you two so much!” Patton laughed out, burying his face in Remus’ hair.

“I love you back!” Remus said in kind.

Deceit attempted a dramatic groan, but he failed to tamp down his grin.

“It could be said that I feel something love-adjacent for the both of you. Perhaps.”

Patton’s mind was swimming in joy, so much so that it barely registered when Remus tilted his head back only to lean forward, and oh wow, were they kissing. Patton’s vision was all bright blurs of color, and he melted. The creative trait pushed up against him, rough in much the same way as an overly excited large dog. Patton hardly had time to reciprocate the kiss before Remus broke off completely from the hug, unflustered and unaffected by what he’d done, save for a light blush.

“Now you guys!”

Oh, he was still hugging Deceit.

“Only if it’s okay?” he’d barely gotten the apprehensive words out of his mouth when it was suddenly occupied, and the world went back to hazey vibrance. Deceit was almost skittish, a barely-there press against his lips like he expected Patton to shove him away. He didn’t, by the way. Rather, he slid a hand up to rest between the side’s shoulder blades, bringing him nearer.

After a moment, they pulled back slowly, not letting go of each other.

“That was hot, ngl,” Remus chimed from his perch on the counter.

Patton was overcome with a fit of giggling, energy building in him. He ended his and Deceit’s very drawn-out embrace to satisfy the necessity of full body wiggle. He was in Silly Mode, there was no avoiding this until it had been exorcised via The Joyful Movement™. Patton flapped his hands at his sides and shook his hair out, laughing all the while. Today could not possibly get better!

But he remembered his audience of two. He looked up, hair fluffed up and face flushed with fading excitement and a tinge of self-consciousness.

“Sorry, I got over-excited...”

“That,” Deceit announced solemnly, “Was astoundingly adorable.”

“I’ve died a gruesome death,” Remus rolled off the counter and onto the ground with a crash (and some bone crunches thrown in, probably for fun), “My heart overloaded, it has burst. There’s blood everywhere, it’s in my eyes, I’m now also blind.”

Patton’s relief escaped in another bout of laughter, and something lifted in him. A weight that had been there for so long that he hadn’t even remembered it was there, nor how it felt to be without it. But now that it had left, he didn’t know how he had been living with it for so long. There was airiness in his chest, a clarity in his mind, a general sense of contentment rushing over him. This wasn’t a face he put on for others benefit, it wasn’t a fleeting enjoyment of one thing or another- what it was was a deep, thrumming joy that overcame him.

He was happy.

Naturally, Patton could not finish cleaning due to. Circumstances. Those circumstances being, he was finally letting himself indulge in some quality time with his new boyfriends (an identifier he very much liked the sound of).

The trio were half-laying on the Common room’s couch, a tangle of various limbs. Remus leaned against a pile of pillows, and Patton rested his head on his chest. Draped across the both of them was Deceit, fastening all of his arms around them in a manner simultaneously protective and needy. Oh, and also very, very cute.

“This was totally what I was planning from the beginning,” his voice reverberated through Patton’s chest, “God, I am so great at plotting.”

Remus clicked his tongue agreeably, pressing a kiss to the top of Morality’s head.

“Yeah, I was pretty sure we were gonna end up killing you, Pumpkin. This wasn’t even in the ballpark of outcomes.”

Patton hummed in thought, cuddling himself closer to his partners.

“I dunno. I’d say your plan turned out pretty well.”

@deceits-left-glove

@princemesscharming

@shrimp-crockpot

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hearts-hunger · 5 years

Text

I’m Happy at Home || part four

Look on my masterlist for parts 1-3!

Part Summary: You take a trip down memory lane to spring 1971, when you first got to know your mates’ adorable new bass player.

Pairings: John Deacon x Wife!Reader; dad!deaky

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2k (short again ik sorry)

Warnings: None!

A/N: Ok loves!! Here’s the memory I promised in the last chapter, and I think it’s pretty cute. It just jumps right into the memory and ends still in it, so we’ve left Montreal Deaky for the moment, but he’ll be back in all his glory in the next part. Besides, who can resist ‘71 Deaky with that cute smile and that lovely hair? Not me, that’s who. I hope you like it, and let me know what you think!

You had been Brian’s roommate at the time, both of you attending Imperial College London at various stages of your academic career. As considerate a flatmate as the aspiring astrophysicist was, he’d forgotten to mention to you that he’d invited Queen’s new bassist over first thing in the morning.

You’d stumbled out of bed when you heard the kettle being filled, the sound of Brian’s early morning tea-making a surer alarm than your own bedside clock since the day you’d moved in. You’d made it down the hall and to the bathroom when you realized that the shower was running already and that the soft humming coming from the kitchen wasn’t in Brian’s familiar voice. Stopped at the bathroom door and peeking around the corner into the kitchen, you bit your lip to keep an obscenity from tumbling out as you leaned back from the corner.

Nope, that wasn’t Brian at all. You wouldn’t have minded walking out in your “Ringo for President” t-shirt and messy hair if it had just been your roommate - you’d been best friends for so long that he was practically your brother, and you’d long since stopped caring about looking presentable for him. But the new bass player - John Richard Deacon, you didn’t think you’d ever forget that introduction - was heart-stoppingly cute, and you’d wanted to make a good impression on him the next time you saw him. You were just about to make your retreat to your room to actually get dressed when the bathroom door opened; you took one step backwards and bumped into Brian, all dripping hair and lanky limbs and nothing but a towel around his waist.

“Hey,” he’d protested, pushing you forward a bit so you weren’t standing on his foot.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, unblushing at the slightly compromising situation you found yourself in, you with no bra and him with no clothes at all. There was nothing romantic or sexual between the two of you; though you’d nursed a latent crush on him in the early days of your friendship, living with him had made that a thing of the past. Not that you didn’t think Brian was good-looking or sweet or good fun to be around; you just knew that he’d make some other girl quite happy, and his friendship meant the world to you.

“Mind telling me why you’re just standing right at the doorway?” he asked, amused. Then, with a flicker of worry, “Did you need in? Sorry if I was taking too long.”

“No, you’re ok,” you said. “I just... ah, didn’t know we were having company.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said, realizing. “I meant to tell you last night. We’re going over a few things before the show. I asked him to put on some tea and I told him you had a stash of Jammie Dodgers up in the cabinet.”

You frowned. “You’re not even supposed to know about those.”

Brian smirked. “You want me to go tell John that he can’t have any?”

“No,” you said quickly. “But next time, I’m telling him about your million-year-old brandy hidden behind that vase from your mother that you never use.”

He gave a melodramatic gasp. “That’s not even on the same level as Jammie Dodgers.”

“It’s the principle of the matter, Brimi.”

“Fine, point taken.” He gave you a crooked smile. “You could go say hi, you know, instead of hiding out and arguing with me. He doesn’t bite. Unless you wanted him to, maybe.”

“Brian,” you scolded, feeling your cheeks flush. He only laughed.

“Besides, I can’t go out there looking like this,” you insisted, your voice a little quieter for fear of John overhearing.

“No?” Brian teased, matching your tone. “Maybe he’s into the all-natural kind of thing.”

“Brian Harold May,” you said, smacking his arm and earning another laugh from him. “You’re horrible, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he said with a grin. “But you should still go say hi.”

He crossed to his bedroom and shut the door behind him; you followed suit, putting a bra on and checking that your hair wasn’t a complete mess. You didn’t want this John Richard Deacon fellow to think that you were avoiding him, but you also didn’t want to be an absolute mess the first time you really talked to him. Satisfied, marginally, with your appearance, you went back out to the hallway and rounded the corner, making your way into the kitchen.

“Hi,” you ventured, giving a shy little wave even though he had his back to you. He turned to face you with the expression of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, his smile endearingly nervous.

“Hi,” he said. “Sorry about - I mean - I couldn’t help but overhear, I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I - ”

“Oh, that’s ok,” you assured him, feeling a little embarrassed. Which parts had he heard? “Brian and I aren’t masters of arguing quietly.”

“All the same, I’m sorry if it was a bit of a shock to see me in your kitchen so early,” he said, bashful. “I asked Brian if you were ok with it, and he said you would be. And that he’d let you know.”

“Well, no harm done,” you said, giving him a smile and hoping to ease his guilt. “If there’s one thing to know about Brian, it’s that he’s an absolute genius who would lose his head if it weren’t attached to him. He tends to be very scatterbrained.”

He smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll remember that for next time and ask you myself if it’s ok to come over.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a deep blush rose to his cheeks. “Not that I’m - I mean - sorry, that was - ” He gave a nervous laugh. “Awfully presumptuous of me.”

“No, you’re fine,” you said, endeared to him. “You don’t have to ask to come over here - Roger and Freddie are over here all hours, and now that you’re in the band, our home is your home too.”

“Oh,” he said softly, surprised. “That’s very kind. Thank you.” He looked down at his shoes, a well-loved pair of trainers. “I wouldn’t go giving me any special band privileges yet, though, I’ve only just auditioned.”

Trying to make him feel more at ease, you hopped up on the bar stool at the island, trying to give the impression that this was just a casual conversation and not the Spanish Inquisition. You leaned your elbows on the counter and propped your chin in your hand.

“Oh, I think you’re here to stay,” you said sincerely. “I’m no musical genius like you guys, but it sounded great to me at your audition. And the boys have said they think you’re really good.”

He looked up at you, his brown eyes alight and hopeful. “They have?”

You smiled. He really did have the loveliest features, all brightened and softened by this newfound excitement. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to have him look that way because of you, maybe because you decided to reach up on tiptoes and kiss him...

You blushed, shaking your head to clear it. Geez, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been absolutely doe-eyed over somebody like this, much less after only meeting him one time and then stumbling upon him in your kitchen at seven in the morning. You couldn’t help hiding behind your hands a bit, trying to conceal your deep blush.

“Yeah,” you said, remembering the question. “They really like your style. Roger was impressed that you got ‘Keep Yourself Alive’ right off the bat. That’s one of the ones he auditioned with, and it took him a few run-throughs to get it.”

John’s soft laugh was a little surprised. “Roger was impressed?”

You smiled. “Yeah, he was, and don’t let him get to you. He’s a jackass, but he’s really a sweetheart underneath all that.”

“Well... I’m looking forward to getting to know that side of him,” John said diplomatically, drawing a laugh from you. You couldn’t help but notice the way he smiled when you laughed, and you felt you’d like to make him smile like that all the time.

The kettle began its familiar whistle and John turned to take it off the stove, filling two mugs with hot water before replacing it on the eye.

“Tea’s up in the cabinet to your left,” you said. “Though Brian probably told you that. Help yourself to whatever kind you like - we have kind of an eclectic collection.”

“I’m really plain when it comes to tea,” he admitted. “I usually go for Lady Grey or something equally unexciting.”

“Lady Grey's my favorite, actually,” you said with a smile. “That should be up on top.”

He took two teabags out of the box and fixed your mugs, spooning some sugar into yours at your request and adding milk to both. He handed your mug to you and you cradled it with both hands, letting the warmth seep into your fingers.

“Thank you for making tea,” you said. “I wouldn’t have made you make tea - I mean, you’re the guest, after all - but my skill for being a hostess has never quite rubbed off on Brian. So I apologize on his behalf.”

“Oh, you don’t need to,” John said, a little embarrassed. “I don’t mind. Did I make yours alright?”

You took a sip. “Perfect,” you told him.

You sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both of you sipping at your tea, the sunlight growing brighter as it filled your tiny flat. You had the feeling that you would be content to spend every morning like this, sharing tea with John Richard Deacon.

“So, John,” you said. “Can I ask you something?”

He looked up at you and gave you a gentle smile. “Of course.”

You bit your lip. “What do you do in real life?”

You could tell from the sound of his laugh that you’d caught him off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You know, like, not in the band.”

“Oh,” he said, his smile still lingering. “Um, I study electrical engineering at university. Not that exciting.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “You must know lots of fun things. Do you like studying it?”

“Very much, actually,” he said. “It’s always been a hobby of mine since I was a kid, and it’ll suit me just fine for my living. Actually, I’ve been hoping to get a closer look at Brian’s guitar and ask him about how he wired it.”

“Oh, he’ll talk with you about Red Special to your heart’s content,” you said. “And probably past that. Seriously, don’t be afraid to ask him about it. He’ll talk your ear off.”

“Who’ll talk whose ear off?”

Both you and John looked over to the doorway, seeing Brian come in.

“You’re going to talk John’s ear off about the Red Special,” you clarified. “He’s interested in how it’s wired.”

“Are you really?” Brian asked excitedly.

John smiled. “Yeah, I’d love to know how you built it. It’s fantastic, and that sound is so unique.”

“Oh, well, thank you,” Brian said, his cheeks pinking a little. He busied himself making himself some tea, John politely moving out of the way of Brian’s gangly limbs.

“Y/N’s right,” Brian said. “I’ll babble on ‘til you’re begging me to stop. But you’re more than welcome to take a look at her.”

John’s gaze flickered to you. “H-her?”

You blushed and Brian chuckled. “Oh, sorry, I meant Red Special. My one and only. I don’t have any say in who takes a look at Y/N.”

Your flush deepened. “Bri,” you warned. You looked over to John. “Sorry about him, he’s - ”

“Just teasing,” Brian supplied with a grin. “As she knows.” He tugged on a curl that had come loose from your bun. “But enough about you two, you’ve got me started on my guitar, and I’m not going to stop anytime soon. Come on, John, give me your professional electrical engineer opinion.”

John gave you a sweet smile as he made to follow Brian to the living room. “It was lovely having tea with you,” he said.

You returned his smile. “You too, John Richard Deacon.”

He chuckled at the reminder of how he’d introduced himself. “Maybe we could have tea again, before our next show.”

You grinned. “I’d like nothing better.”

Read part 5!

series taglist: @mirkwoodshewolf @caborhapch @in-theyearof39 @someone-get-a-medic @deaky-dandelion @simply-sams-things @jazzman-19 @ixchel-9275

forever taglist: @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl @hazah @dashlilymark @punkgeekchic @harrisunn @stephydearestxo @luckytrashgooprebel

let me know if you’d like to be added to either! also, let me know if i’ve put you on the wrong one, or if i’ve forgotten to add you!

#sjdk i'm sorry this one's so short again!!#but the next part more than makes up for it #i'm not even finished with it yet and it's already like 4k #and it's smutty so ~#anyways i hope you like this one!#let me know what you think!!#also i got myself a cute line break because i can't stand not having it any more #maddie writes stuff!#i'm happy at home series #john deacon x reader #john deacon x wife!reader #john deacon fluff #john deacon fanfiction #queen fanfiction #queen fluff #deaky x reader fluff

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youngerdrgrey · 4 years

Text

easy there, oedipus (or, how to get away with impregnating your law professor) [DRAFTS 2]

about: alternatively titled, how to get away with impregnating your law professor and secretly parenting your child; or moments from a fic unwritten, updated and revamped for a season that only feeds into my need for Annalise and Wes to fall into the abyss together. — takes place in season 3

a/n: Drafts from before the show hurt me w/ season three’s finale; shared in case anyone wanted more of the story -- here are some vignettes and headcanons about the story.

Getting Away With… Annalise and Michaela bonding

At some point in the pregnancy, Annalise gets sick and Wes is there, every night, with her, feeding her, helping her, calling the doctor.

Asher says, “Mommy issues.”

Connor says, “Better him than us.”

Michaela brings soup and some magazines one night, but she feels dumb once she gets upstairs. Annalise takes pity on her and tells her to come in the damn room and sit down (Ms. Pratt).

Michaela sits, on the edge, with the soup still in her hands and the potholder in her lap. They sit in silence until Annalise tells her to talk.

“About what?”

“Anything. Except the next exam.”

So, Michaela talks about moving on from Aiden, and how Connor’s still fake going to NA, and how Laurel makes the best cheesecake, even if it’s pity food. How she wishes sometimes that she could’ve just loved someone like Wes because everyone is so lucky to have a guy like him around, and how she hopes that she gets to meet the baby (and she can totally do that even if Annalise doesn’t keep her around so it’s not, like she’s being presumptuous, she swears).

She keeps talking until Annalise drifts off, and Wes comes back and slips onto the edge of the bed like he belongs there. No hesitation. He doesn’t lie down, or get too close, but the ease in his shoulders the moment he sees Annalise -- Michaela leaves.

Leaves and bites on her tongue next time someone brings up Mommy issues.

Getting Away With... Laurel’s Q&A

Later, when people know, Laurel asks what Wes got out of this — out of a kid that he can’t claim publicly and a woman who will never, ever be his.

He thinks of the way Annalise’s hands shook around the pregnancy test, the tears in her eyes, the unspoken plea for him to let her have this, the thank you on her lips and soon on his before he slid his lips from hers and hung his head so his forehead rested against hers and his breath landed against the tears on her cheek, and he said, “No one can ever know. Can they?”

“We’ll know,” she’d said, as if that was enough, as it no one else in the world even began to matter.

“Another one of our secrets.”

~ In the moment with Laurel, he says that no one’s ever looked prouder of him, no one as thankful and grateful and just happy that he existed. He says it might be messed up to keep a baby to make someone happy, but

Well, it worked.

Getting Away With… telling everyone

Annalise calls all of them to attention from the bottom of the stairwell. It’s only been a few weeks since she found out, but the way her eyes meet Wes’ tell him everything he needs to know about what this team conversation is about.

Everyone shifts as she walks closer. She stops on the rug she bought to replace the one Sam got rolled up in.

“Now, normally, I wouldn’t bother telling you all something like this, but it will affect the way I work and therefore affect all of you as well.”

She unclasps her hands from where they’ve been hanging in front of her and places them both on her stomach. Wes can hear the squeak of a gasp that comes from Michaela and feels the shift in the couch as Laurel leans in closer.

“I’m pregnant,” Annalise says, “and I will do my best to keep everything the same around here. I’ll have more appointments, but you’ll have Bonnie whenever I can’t be here. Any questions?”

Her eyes scan their faces. Michaela’s jaw looks slightly unhinged. Laurel looks pensive.

Asher narrows his eyes and asks, “Who’s the father?”

All eyes whip to him as Annalise bristles.

“If I’d meant for you to know, I would’ve told you. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She heads for her office.

The rest of the team wait for the doors to slide closed before throwing pillows and hissing, “Asher!”

“What, it’s an honest question!”

Connor ignores him, turning in his chair to face the other three of the group, especially Michaela. “Can you believe Mom’s replacing us?”

Michaela rolls her eyes. “God, Connor, don’t call her that.” He shrugs. She goes on, “And Annalise isn’t replacing anyone. A baby can’t practice law.”

“Ten bucks says that kid grows up just like us,” Connor says.

Wes imagines their kid will be different. He could see his kid as a toddler, tossing papers out of boxes on the floor and crawling inside to make his own little court room. Wes could play fake judge, or fake jury, if all the stuffed animals will let him join.

Michaela claps her hand in Connor’s, bringing Wes back to the moment.

“You’re on,” she says. “No one wants to be their parents.”

Asher scoffs. “Hey.”

“Sorry, no one interesting wants to be their parents.”

Asher glowers and corrects, “Parent. She’s totes going in solo since Nate’s gone MIA.”

“It’s not Nate’s,” Wes says. It gets quiet, and eyes snap to him -- three sets, equal parts guilty and worried. He clears his throat, schools his voice. “The timing’s off. She should’ve been showing a while ago if it was Nate’s.”

Asher shrugs. “She has been gaining weight. I didn’t want to say anything before, but—“

Everyone’s glaring at him. He stops. Laurel rolls her eyes.

“She’d probably tell us if we asked. We’ve known worse secrets.”

Connor scoffs. “She bit his head off ten seconds ago, Einstein.”

Laurel scoffs right back. “Not who, genius; when.”

Michaela nods. “You’re right. And we kind of deserve to know anyway since when she’s due will affect when classes are cancelled. If we have to take breaks in our case load, if—“

“She’s gonna be a raging bitch for finals.”

“Asher!”

He throws his hands in the air. “Legitimate question! Again!”

And he’s right, to some degree. Her emotions will be changing for sure. Her due date’s not right for finals though. It’ll be next school year actually, and Wes’ll be someone else’s student, and — everybody’s staring at him.

Wes fidgets. “What? Why’re you looking at me?”

“You’re the favorite,” Connor says.

“If anyone’s gonna ask…” Michaela tries to smile.

Laurel sighs. “We could all try, together, but studies show: you’re the one she trusts the most.”

Wes bounces in his seat before getting up and heading to the office. He knocks. Bonnie opens it, sees him, and sighs.

“It’s not a good time,” Bonnie says.

“I get that. I just have a question. We all do,” Wes says.

Bonnie glances at the others. “Stop conspiring and get back to work.”

The others look down. Wes rolls his shoulders.

“You gonna let me through?”

She does.

He gets to Annalise whose face looks like it does around one of her vomiting spells. Shit, is that why it’s not a good time? He should leave then, shouldn’t he? He already knows when she’s due, and he can just go tell them the answer without asking.

Only, he has a really good excuse to be in here, and he doesn’t get many of those, and there’s so much that he wants to say and ask, so he clears his throat.

Her eyes snap up — wide and alarmed — but they flatten out once she notices who it is.

“Mr. Gibbins.” A warning dressed like a greeting. Definitely not a good time. But she did just tell everyone she’s having his baby, so she doesn’t get to send him away just yet.

The door’s still cracked; Bonnie’s right there and is no doubt listening in since Annalise hasn’t dismissed her yet.

Wes gets closer, to the desk, staying on his side though. “You don’t look so good.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“I just meant — sorry, I —“ suck at this dad thing already. He frowns. “Do you need anything?”

“It would be nice if I could keep my lunch down, but I’m not getting picky.”

He almost groans. Of course Annalise would stand strong through morning sickness. She’ll stand strong through it all — the cravings, the swelling, the mood swings and near insatiable appetite for se—

“Wes?”

“Huh?”

“I asked, why are you in here?”

“Right. Sorry. Again.” He scratched the back of his head. “We all — well, they, not that I’m not also curious, but when is the baby due?”

Annalise looks confused a moment, then she tells him, “October 23rd.”

He shouldn’t feel pride at the sound of that. It’s a date — a bunch of letters and numbers. It’s not a baby. It’s not something to smile about. Yet, his cheeks burn just the same.

“Right before Halloween,” he says. “You’ll have to dress them up.”

“Them?” she repeats, eyes widening back.

He scrambles out. “Gender neutral pronoun, not saying you’re having twins.” Unless… “Are you?”

“I certainly hope not. I’ve already got my hands full with everyone out there. I don’t need two more lives to protect.”

He winds around a pen on her desk. He can’t look at her while he says, “You wouldn’t be alone.”

The air gets really still, like no one anywhere in the house wants to move or even begin to dissect the almost hesitantly wistful way he’d said that sentence.

“I figured.” Annalise shifts in her seat, and her voice comes out stronger, more assured and planned. “You don’t think I’m paying for a nanny when I’ve got capable interns, do you?”

A groan’s heard from the living room. Wes finds a way to breathe again, turns his next exhale into an almost laugh.

“Just make sure Michaela takes off her ring first.”

It’s not funny, but he laughs just the same. Annalise too.

(In the living room, Michaela pouts, and maybe this won’t have to be so hard. Maybe, somehow, they can make this work.”)

Getting Away With... Financial Support

A week after Wes agrees to keep their secret, Annalise gives him some money. He starts freaking out, like “Why are you doing this?” and he low-key accuses her of trying to buy his silence.

Well, not low-key.

He’s like, “What — you don’t want me to tell anyone and now you’re giving me money? That’s not the way this works. I’m not gonna tell anyone like it hurts all of us.”

Annalise bristles. “How could you even think I would do something like that?” She knew that his loan still wasn’t going through. (She had Frank check.) She wanted to make sure that he got the chance to stick around. For all of them.

And it’s his turn to be like, “Oh.” Fuck. “Annalise—“

“Save it. Either take the money or don’t. Spare me your apologies. You can think the worst of me all you’d like.”

“It’s not— I’m sorry.” He stresses it. “No one outside of my family has ever helped me without wanting something in return.” He steps closer but not close enough to touch her. “I’m no good at saying thank you.”

She barely softens, but she does. “You better learn soon. I’m not really the type to sit on my hands.”

“Noted.”

She looks a moment longer, then goes back to her files. “You may go.”

He lingers, heads for the door, pauses. “Thank you.”

She grins (not that he looks to see). “You’re welcome.”

Getting Away With... Mama Harkness’ Return

Mama Harkness watches him a moment too long. He shifts. She shakes her head.

“What’s so special about you?” He’s a bit confused. “Lord knows this wasn’t the only time Anna slept with someone she shouldn’t.”

He sputters. “I — ma’am, you—“

“You gon’ lie to me, boy?”

Beat. “No, ma’am.”

“Thought so. Now, I’m not telling nobody what I know. I just want you to know that I know it. And I’m watching you. You hear me?”

Getting Away With... Names and Michaela Finding Out

Connor calling little man bible verses, like “316, how you been, buddy?”

Laurel calls him Matt.

Michaela calls him Matthew and tells him to grow into it and respect it because nicknames don’t do anything but allow us to hide from our full potential.

Wes calls him kid a lot.

At another time, when something’s wrong with the baby, they all rush to the hospital. Wes tries to get in the room, in full intense Dad mode, but Connor catches him by the shoulders. Says, “Easy there, Oedipus, you can’t go in there.”

Michaela snaps at Connor for being insensitive when they’re all worried. Connor slips up and mutters, “But it’s their baby so, ugh.”

Michaela repeats it, “Their baby.” Then again, as Connor’s, Laurel’s, and Wes’ eyes all go wide. She sputters, and everything just clicks. “My God.”

“Michaela—“

“He’s —”

Wes shakes his head. “I don’t have time for this.” Storms off to try and get into the room.

Michaela slaps Connor’s arm, hard as shit. “How long have you known?”

“A couple weeks—“

“WEEKS?”

“But I couldn’t tell you—“

“You tell me everything! You told me when you changed your toothpaste!”

“This wasn’t my secret to tell.”

She gets that, she really does, it just sucks finding out so late. Annalise is struggling to hold on, baby Matthew’s got heart problems, and — “Oh, God, Wes.” He must be a mess.

Getting Away With... Keeping the Baby?

So, they reach a point where Annalise finds out that basically keeping the baby in longer could kill her. They’re at the hospital, and Wes is in the room when they hear the news. The doctors leave them alone to process, and Annalise is speechless.

Wes tries to find some words. He tells her that he — well, he doesn’t know what to do, or say. He’s finally maybe on the right track with Annalise towards something they can have and sustain, and now the baby’s really sick and Annalise could die?

He clears his throat and says, “I want to be here. I do. I just....”

And she gets him. Tells him, “Get some air. I’ll get some here.”

He nods and he almost chokes on whatever it is inside of him. He says, “Five minutes. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Then he rushes the fuck out of there.

Michaela and Connor come in together. They saw Wes run off, and Laurel went after Wes, but it’s Michaela and Connor who go in to see Annalise first.

Michaela can’t really form words right away.

Connor says, “Look, we really kinda need our jobs, and your house, and... you. You’re not like our mom or anything, but we need you too.”

Michaela squeaks in agreement, and then she says that if anyone could get through this, it would be Annalise. “Whatever you decide, we will stand by you. It’s what you’ve trained us to do.”

Annalise tells them to get it together or get out. They hug her. She tries not to cry.

Bonnie and Frank want her to let the baby go, but they also know she won’t, so they’re making plans and schedules on who will be monitoring her, and when and for how long. They immediately make plans and deals with nurses to reserve a bed in the NICU for the baby.

Wes literally goes outside and starts wailing on dumpsters and screaming.

Laurel mentions that they should invest in soundproof rooms at hospitals for this purpose. She reminds him that he freaked out less when Sam died than now.

He tells her that this has to be karma. This is what happens when you kill a woman’s husband and then get her pregnant. “God laughs at you. He gives you everything you could have possibly imagined. He gives you the possibility of having a family, a real one that will support you and care for you and foster you into who you’re meant to be. And then just when it seems like maybe everything’s going to work out, He rips them away from you.”

Laurel says, “Wes, it’s not karma —“

“It is! I did this! I killed her.”

“You didn’t—“

His finger jams into his chest so hard that she fears he’s gonna break it. “I got her pregnant. I gave her this hope. And now she’s gonna die. Because of me.”

“Because her heart’s overworked.”

“No, because I protected Rebecca instead of —“

“Instead of what? Letting Sam kill her? Listen to yourself.”

“I can’t! I can’t even think right now. I should be in there with her, comforting her, saying whatever it is she needs to hear to make the right decision and save herself over this baby. Only… only…”

He has tears in his eyes, and Laurel understands why.

“You want the baby.”

A tear slips out, and Wes groans. “I want her so badly.”

They decide to go with Bonnie and Frank’s plan -- have the baby but stay on top of everything. They’ve lost enough people in this life, and they’re not losing anyone else.

#annawes #annalise x wes #easy there oedipus #htgawm #htgawm fic #mine #drafts

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sarah-writes-stories · 4 years

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Chapter 14: Living Legend

A Post-Canon Inuyasha Romance/Adventure Epic

Find it on: Fanfiction.net / AO3 / Wattpad

Words: 2,254

Prologue • Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • Chapter 9 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 11 • Chapter 12 • Chapter 13 • Chapter 14

⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯

Kagome and Inuyasha stayed with Miroku and Sango's till after lunch. But eventually, Kagome remembered that Kaede had wanted to speak with her and had asked her to return.

"I think it's time we should be heading back to Kaede's," she said aloud to the room.

"So soon?" Sango didn't try to hide the disappointment from her voice.

"Yeah, Kaede wanted to talk to me about something and asked me to come back."

"Ah, okay, well, will we see you tomorrow?" Sango asked hopefully.

Miroku smiled at his wife. It had been hard for her to be without her closest friend all these years. If for no other reason than the happiness that Sango felt at having Kagome returned to her, Miroku wanted to celebrate the young Miko's return.

"Of course, Sango!" Kagome moved to give Sango a swift hug and a reassuring smile before she and Inuyasha waved at the rest of the family, calling out some quick goodbyes before heading out the door and back into the street.

But the walk back to Kaede's was nothing like their earlier walk had been. Now it was the middle of the day and life in the village was in full swing. Men and women came and went along the dirt road, as children ran and played in front of the homes that they passed.

And here and there, Kagome could also see small groups of men and women huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. She sighed, clearly the gossip and whispers of her return had spread like wildfire.

Sure everyone was very polite, calling out greetings to the great Lord Inuyasha and Lady Kagome, but it was the slack-jawed staring that really did Kagome in, until the now-legendary Priestess began feeling very much like a freak on a side-show stage.

'I've walked through this village hundreds of times before,' she thought. 'But it was never like this.'

Before, she'd been something of an oddity, with her strange future clothing and the fact that they all knew she was Kikyo's reincarnation. But this? The unadulterated awe at her very presence was just too much for Kagome. It felt wrong.

"Who's that, mama?" Kagome heard a little girl ask as she pointed toward the pair.

"Hush, child, and do not point!" It was an older woman, likely the child's grandmother spoke. "Ōji-sama and Miko-hime will hear you!"

Inuyasha could smell Kagome's discomfort as he watched her shrink in on herself. He stopped walking.

"Hey."

"Come on, Inuyasha, let's just hurry and get back." She tried to grab his hands and hurry him along, but it was like trying to hurry a mountain. He didn't budge.

"Hey." He said again, trying to get her attention enough for her to look at him.

"What?" She finally looked him in the eye.

"Remember what I said yesterday? You just gotta ignore it. You can't let it get to you. You're still you, just like I'm still me. It doesn't matter what they think."

His gaze bore into her, willing her to accept the truth of his words.

"I know it's just… When I came back, I wasn't expecting everything to be so different, but now I have all of this new power and the people here think of me as some kind of living legend… But I didn't ask for this." She signed before continuing. "Last night, in your– our hut, when I said that I didn't care what the villagers said or thought about us, I guess I was expecting anger or bigotry. I wasn't expecting this."

She waved her hand as though to encompass everything, then gave Inuyasha a small smile before continuing, "Sometimes I forget that you're a prince."

He growled at that. "I ain't no prince."

"But you are, Inuyasha. It doesn't matter that your mother's family cast you out or that your brother rejected you. You've always carried yourself with the nobility and honour of the royal houses that bore you. That sense of honour and the strength behind it is just one of the many reasons why I fell in love with you. Not because it makes you a prince, but because it makes you you."

She was thoughtful a moment before continuing. "Part of me always wondered if that was why, after a while, Sesshōmaru stopped trying to actually kill you. Maybe, hanyou or not, he realized that you were an honour to your father's blood."

Inuyasha really wasn't sure what to think of Kagome's words. He felt pride swell within him at the faith she had in him, as though seeing himself through her eyes for the first time. And he wasn't so dense that he hadn't noticed the change in Sesshōmaru , but he hadn't really given much thought as to what might have been behind it.

He shook his head though, "I doubt it. I think any change in that bastard has more to do with Rin than it does with me."

Kagome considered this. "Maybe. Maybe not. Or maybe it's a bit of both–"

"Lord Inuyasha! Lord Inuyasha!" Kagome was stopped from saying anything else by a man's voice approaching. She looked up.

"That man, he looks familiar…"

"He should," said Inuyasha. "That's Rikichi, the village headman. I'm sure you met him at some point during the hunt."

Kagome thought back. Yes, she had met this man several times, though she hadn't known he was headman at the time. In fact… "I think– I think he was there when I came out of the well the first time."

"That would make sense," Inuyasha agreed. "That's kinda his job, after all, overseeing stuff."

Inuyasha couldn't say he liked Rikichi much, though he was an honourable man who held his position in the village with great respect. He knew that Rikichi valued Kaede's wisdom and experience and had often followed her lead when it came to dealing with their Pack during the shard hunt – heck, it was probably why he had invited them all to settle here – but a headman was still a headman. It was their job to uphold the traditions and laws and to oversee the smooth proceedings of life within a village. Inuyasha knew from his decades of experience that it usually meant that most headmen were, if not closed-minded, then at the very least very conservative in their opinions… And Rikichi was no exception.

Finally reaching them, he stopped and gave them a bow and a good-natured smile. "Good day to you, Lord Inuyasha. I see that the rumours are true and that the great Lady Kagome has returned to us!"

Rikichi had been there in the field beside the well when the great Miko had been pulled into the Meido. He'd seen the Bone-Eater's Well disappear only to reappear several days later. When he'd asked, Lord Inuyasha had said that the Miko was safe, but the headman still had many unanswered questions, and it was his job to be informed in all things that affected his village.

Rikichi began, "May I ask, Lady Kagome, how did you escape the Meido? We thought you lost to the underworld!"

Kagome glanced at Inuyasha. She wasn't impressed by these pointed questions. The villagers knew that she travelled through the well. However, they didn't know that she travelled through time, and she wasn't about to explain one of the most painful experiences of her life to an all-but-total stranger.

"Well… Inu– Inuyasha saved me."

"I see, I see. And where you have been all these years."

Kagome seemed taken aback by his bluntness. "Uh, me? I've been… home… with my family."

Rikichi pressed on. "Your home? Is that where the well takes you when you jump into its depths and disappear?"

Inuyasha started to growl. He knew exactly why Kagome was hesitant to answer Rikichi's questions. "Look Rikichi–" He began, but Kagome cut him off with a gentle hand on his arm.

"I thank you for being concerned about what happened to me and where I've been, Rikichi-san, but all that matters now is that I am fine and I am here… and here is where I intend to stay." She hoped that the finality of her statement was enough to stop the curious headman from asking any more unwanted questions.

Her statement seemed to catch the headman's attention, "Is this true, Lady, that you will be settling permanently in our village? What a blessed event this is! I would ask for your blessing that we might prepare a great feast in celebration of your return if you would allow us."

Kagome gathered her frayed nerves. After this morning's announcement fiasco, she was the one who'd demanded she be allowed to announce their engagement to everyone else. She glanced at Inuyasha before clearing her throat and continuing.

"Thank you, Rikichi-san, for the kind offer and for your warm welcome. But might I suggest that you delay your offered feast for six days?"

"Eh?" Rikichi seemed confused. "Why delay?"

"Well, in six days time, it will be my 19th birthday. It will also be the anniversary of the first time I ever set foot in this village, the day I released Inuyasha from the Goshinboku… and… well… Inuyasha and I have chosen that to also be the day of our wedding."

Rikichi was dumbstruck at her words. He'd known that the hanyou lord and the young Miko were close comrades and travelling companions, and he'd sensed that Inuyasha had sorely missed the girl when she hadn't returned even after the well had reappeared, but he had not been expecting this.

"But… But…" He stammered. "You are the Shikon Miko!"

"Yes?" Kagome didn't see his point.

"Mikos do not marry." Rikichi shook his head.

After the stress of his earlier questioning, Kagome found his presumptuous statement highly annoying. "Oh yeah? Well, this Miko has every intention of marrying."

Rikichi didn't seem to take the hint, "But is not your power tied to your…ahem… purity?"

Kagome felt her face turning red, though not in embarrassment this time. She could have the patience of a saint, but when she came to the end of it? Well, the number of Inuyasha shaped craters that lay scattered around Edo could attest to what usually happened next. None of this was any of his business, but somehow he was weighing in with an opinion about her love life?

'Oh, HELL no.' she thought.

The power of Kagome's aura swirled around her slightly, just enough to lift her hair and give her body a shimmering pink glow.

She began, her voice rising in pitch the longer she spoke. "I don't see how that is any of your business, Rikichi-san, headman or not. And even if it was, even if being with Inuyasha meant that I'd lose every drop of power that I have, I'd still make that choice a thousand times over! He is the only reason I returned to this place and I intend to marry him six days from now, whether you like it or not!"

Her aura swirled even more, the pink glow would likely now be visible to anyone, whether they had spiritual powers or not.

"Kagome…" Inuyasha tried to warn her what was happening, but his throat closed when he looked at her face and realized that her eyes had been engulfed and were also glowing a bright pink.

Kagome glared hard at the man who had insulted her. She felt a bit weightless, as though she might, at any moment, start floating up off the ground. It was almost as though she could look inside Rikichi… look right through him.

"Kagome!" Inuyasha finally grabbed her arm, singeing his hand slightly. But it was enough to release her from whatever strange trance she'd begun falling into.

She panted, taking a few deep breaths, before biting out the word, "What?"

Inuyasha gave her a strange look before Rikichi finally recovered from his shock enough to speak. He broke the silence with a faltering voice. "It is as you say, Lady Kagome. I apologize for any offence I may have caused. Good day to you both."

Rikichi turned and quickly walked away from the couple. The young Miko was clearly even more powerful than the stories of the final battle with Naraku had ever let on. He had never in his life experienced a reiki aura of that much intensity and power. No, Rikichi would not make the mistake of questioning her or her authority again. Better to have her as a powerful ally and member of the community than as an enemy, curiosity be damned.

A number of people had stopped with curiosity to watch the exchange between the great Miko and the headman, but they hadn't expected this. They all silently stared at Kagome, as though none of them were willing to even breathe.

Finally, as her rage subsided, she felt their combined gazes on her and began to squirm uncomfortably, looking around at the gathering crowd.

After a moment more, she looked at Inuyasha, and in a quiet voice only he could hear, she asked, "Why are they staring at like that? I wasn't that rude was I? Do you think it was something I said?"

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sadprose-auroras · 5 years

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‘SOFTIE’ (Gwilym Lee X Female Reader) Part 3

A/N: A tiny chapter a day keeps the followers away

@crazylittlethingcalledobsession (if anyone else wants to be tagged, though I can’t imagine why, feel free to ask! I really appreciate it, it makes me think I might actually be doing something right! xx)

Gif cred: @flamboyantqueens

It took you four days to call. Not only was the unusual and confusing situation holding you back, but a thousand other doubts were swirling around in your head. What would come of this? Would he even want to hear from you now? Did he intend to run after you, then decide he never wanted to hear from you again? Why would he think it was important, then throw it out? Or was he writing his number down for someone else entirely, and a piece of paper just happened to be sitting there? You spent days ruminating, even going as far as to isolate yourself from your friends and family.

You didn’t hear from Natalie, but really, you couldn’t blame her. You decided to give her a little space, hoping she wasn’t too mad at you. This happened quite often, to be fair. Drama was almost inevitable when two strong personalities had such a tight friendship as the two of you did.

Finally, your curiosity got the better of you. You’d always been a big believer in fate, and the ridiculous coincidence of finding the paper, with Gwilym’s number on it, being the only item in the trash, was too much of a sign to ignore.

You sat on your couch, chewing your lip nervously as you dialled his number. It rang for quite some time, and just as you were about to hang up and rid of the agonizing wait, he picked up.

“Hello?” he said, in a voice even more silky smooth and captivating than you remembered.

“Hi, Gwilym?” you asked tentatively, a tone you seldom found yourself using.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he chuckled softly, and you swore you actually swooned at the sound. “Sorry, who is this?”

“Oh,” you laughed, silently cursing yourself for practically forgetting basic decency. You were usually pretty outspoken, sure, but you weren’t intentionally rude. “It’s Y/N, from Saturday? I realise that you probably didn’t want me to call you, but, well… it’s a bit of an odd story.”

You thought you heard him quietly murmur, “thank god,” but his voice was muffled, you convinced yourself you were hearing things. “It’s good to hear from you, Miss ‘Marriage-and-rom-coms-and-everything-sucks’,” he said properly. You could hear the playful smirk in his voice.

“I never said either of those things sucked! They’re just not for me. Well, marriage anyway. Rom-coms are just too easy to make fun of,” you chuckled, before trailing off.

“So, how did you get my number, then?” he asked friendlily. Here came the part you were dreading. You braced yourself for him being scared off within the next twenty seconds.

“This is gonna sound crazy,” you prefaced, and he let out a light chuckle. “So basically, you were right. It is important to me. I went back to the bar, and found it in the trash…” you physically cringed, noticing how weird it sounded when you said it out loud. What kind of person digs through a bar’s trash?

“Anyway, so I don’t know if you wrote that for me or not, but I couldn’t not call you,” you continued.

“Of course I wrote it for you, Y/N,” he said gently, “who else would it have been for? Look, I’m sorry I threw it out, truly. I was going to go after you and give you my number, but you left so quickly, I figured you were trying to get away from me…”

Little did he know, you kind of were. You were glad Natalie pulled you away from him. The way you’d connected so easily and quickly, absolutely terrified you.

“Of course not,” you lied. “I really did have to go.”

“Well, either way, I’m sorry. I’m really glad you found it,” he said, and you could hear the smile. The thought alone gave you butterflies.

“Me too,” you said, not really sure if you meant the original note, or his. What was this man doing to you? You shook your head as if to clear yourself of these thoughts.

Honestly, you were relieved and appreciative that he didn’t pry, he didn’t ask what the note was, he wasn’t judgmental for your choice to carry it around with you, and he didn’t seem off-put by your frantic search for it. This truly was somebody special, and your Mother’s voice echoed in the back of your mind. She would tell you to hold onto him.

The two of you talked for another hour. It truly seemed as if you barely spoke about anything, you couldn’t believe it when you glanced at the time.

“It’s been over an hour…” you laughed in disbelief when you realised.

“Shit, really?” he chuckled, still trying to calm down from whatever nonsense the two of you were laughing about previously. “Time flies… hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, Gwilym?” you smirked. He rolled his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it.

“Would you like to go out? Properly, this time? I’d really love to take you out. No rom-com clichés, I promise. Okay, maybe one or two…” he chuckled nervously. You hesitated for a second, biting your lip. It’d been years since you’d been on a proper date. Longer than you’d care to admit.

“Oh, god, Y/N. I’m sorry. Was I too presumptuous? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, truly. I’m sorry,” he apologised profusely.

“No, no!” you said quickly.

“Oh, well I understand.”

“No, I mean yes!” you let out a light laugh, facepalming. “My answer is yes. I’d love to go out with you, Gwilym.” Little did you know, he was basically giddy on the other end of the line, smiling widely and blushing like a school-boy with a crush.

“I’ll text you later, yeah?” he asked.

“Sounds good. I can’t wait. See you later, Gwilym,” you said upon hanging up, collapsing back onto the couch with a loud sigh. What had you gotten yourself into?

#gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee headcanon #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee fanfic #bohemian rhapsody #borhap fanfic #gwilym lee x you

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sakuswritersblog · 5 years

Text

Accidentally Engaged - Part 1 of a Noah Centineo Mini Series

A/N: Hey everyone. The Noah Centineo mini-series I promised you is finally here! This story is based on the movie ‘Accidentally Engaged’ which some of you might be familiar with. I just changed a few bits and pieces of the storyline to adapt it to Noah’s life, but otherwise kept most of the plot the same. If you’ve already seen the film you’ll know how the story ends. I still hope that those who watched it, still decide to read this series since I worked really hard on this idea. Plus you’ll get a little bit of asshole Noah which I had a lot of fun with as well!

This is an AU because a lot of Noah’s lifestyle and family dynamic is different than from his actual life. I had to change these things, so they’d work with the story I was going for. Ps: I have nothing against Camila Mendes!! I actually think she’s amazing, so please don’t hate me for using her as the mean girl.

you can read part 2 here and part 3 here

****

Everyone had dreams growing up. Some dreamed about being a doctor, firefighter or police officer while others dreamed about marrying a prince or being a wizard and going to Hogwarts. My dream had always been the same. Ever since I was little I wanted to be an actress in Hollywood, playing alongside acting icons such as Angelina Jolie or Leonardo Di Caprio.

I've always loved acting and jumping into different characters. I joined every drama club in all of the schools I went to and felt at home whenever I was on stage or standing in front of a camera.

Despite a lot of people telling me to give up and move on from my dreams, I was determined to make them a reality. So, after I finally graduated from college, I packed up my old, boring life in Conway and moved out to Los Angeles, the city where dreams were supposed to come true. Once I got here though reality decided to hit me right in the face.

Moving out to L.A. didn't launch me to where I wanted to be and I soon started to realize that working in this industry was harder than I first anticipated. The standards and competition I was up against were nothing like I ever expected. I knew that being rejected was part of the job, but it still wasn't easy to deal with, especially if it happened over and over again. I didn't give up though. I went from audition to audition, fighting for my dreams and working my butt off to better myself in every possible way.

Luckily all of the hard work I put into improving myself eventually paid off and I finally managed to land a small role in an upcoming movie. While a role with less than ten lines wouldn’t seem like much to many people, it meant a lot to me. Now I finally had the chance to prove everyone wrong and most importantly prove to myself that I was good enough.

I was backstage with the makeup artist and stylist who were helping me get ready for my first shoot ever while waiting for my cue to go on set. The movie I was a part of was called Coffeeshop Crush, starring two of the biggest stars in Hollywood right now. The male lead was played by Noah Centineo, the internet's sweetheart who every girl wanted to be with, while the female lead was portrayed by Camila Mendes, a beautiful yet very presumptuous actress. Of course, it was an honor to play alongside these two talented actors, but I didn't really understand the big fuss everyone made about them.

“Alright, so we got you your director approved apron. I like this one a lot better than the other one.“ Kelly, the stylist said as she put it on me. I smiled at her, nodding.

“So... I saw his abs.“ She said, clearly talking about Noah Centineo.

Sidney, the makeup artist gasped, “Seriously?“ Kelly nodded, “Yeah. He just ripped his shirt of right in front of me. He got abs for days.“ She explained, fangirling a little.

“And what did you do?“ Sidney asked while she continued doing my makeup.

“What any girl would do, of course. I asked him to take a selfie with me for my Instagram so I can brag about meeting him to all of my friends.“ The both of them just started laughing while I just sat there and smiled, listening to them gushing about Noah.

“Are you gonna be able to look into his eyes without stumbling over your lines?“ Sidney asked, looking at me.

“I'm sure, I'll manage. I mean he's just a person like everyone else, right?“ I answered, looking back at them.

“Right.“ The both of them answered simultaneously before starting to laugh.

“Okay, we're ready for her. Let's go.“ The assistant interrupted as she walked in to come and pick me up. I nodded and followed her.

The set we used for the first scene was a coffee shop where I played the waitress, which was quite ironic considering I worked as a waitress in real life too.

“Okay, everyone. Quiet on set! We're running in 3...2...1... and action!“

Noah walked in and sat down in front of Camila, who was already seated at a table. She looked up and smiled at him, “Hi.“

Noah smiled back at her, “I didn't see you last Friday.“ He said, looking at her.

“Or the Friday before. But you were here-“

“Three Friday's ago.“ Both of them said at the same time before laughing with each other.

“I thought I'd never see you again.“ Noah said, probably making every girl's heart beat faster by the way he delivered this line.

“Well, I'm here now.“ Camila responded, looking at him with loving eyes.

Noah smiled, “Let me buy you a cup of coffee.“ He waved at me which was my cue to walk in. My heart was beating like crazy, but I tried to ignore it. I took a deep breath before walking into the scene with a pot of coffee in my hands and a big smile on my face.

I started to pour some coffee into Camila's mug, “Can I get you anything else?“ I asked before pouring some into the other mug as well.

Noah shook his head, “I think I got everything I need right here in front of me,“ before he could continue with his next line, the lid of the coffepot slipped off, causing the coffee to spill on both Camila and Noah's clothes. They both gasped before jumping off their seats.

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!“ I apologized, feeling awful about messing up the scene.

I looked at Camila and apologized again, “I'm so sorry.“ She just glared at me and said, “Uhm no,“ before walking away from me.

I sighed and turned to Noah, “I didn't know the lid wasn't-“

“Don't sweat it. Wardrobe has doubles.“ He said, patting my shoulder before walking over to the wardrobe to change.

Once he left, the director approached me. “You come with me.“ I sighed and followed her, knowing I screwed up. She walked me out of set and immediately fired me. She also told me that someone like me didn't deserve to call herself an actress and that I should probably reconsider my life choices.

I left the building, feeling like crap. I got into my car and decided to drive over to my Agent Natalie. I knew she would probably give me one of her famous pep talks, which was exactly what I needed after I just ruined my acting career.

“Oh honey, you always gotta check your props,“ Natalie told me after I explained what had happened.

I sighed, pacing through the room. “I know that now. Gosh, I made a complete fool of myself in front of two of the hottest actors in Hollywood right now.“

“Oh, please. Camila Mendes is a notorious diva. It was probably her bad karma that caused it to happen in the first place. And Noah... he's sexy and all, but no brain's above. I doubt he'd remember you if he saw you.“ She said, trying to comfort me.

“Natalie... I know how hard you worked to get me that audition.“

“Forget it, okay? You still got paid and we'll keep it on your headshot until we get you something better.“

“Yeah, but what if this small part could've lead to something bigger? It was the first role I got after two years and I messed it all up.“

Natalie looked at me, a small smile on her face. “(Y/N), it was seven lines. It's not the end of the world or your career. You're still young.“

“So is Camila.“

“Do not compare yourself to her, (Y/N). You are such a talented actress. So, you're not all lips and lashes like Camila. You're beautiful just the way you are. You look like a storybook princess. You're vulnerable yet you're strong. Honey, you have star quality. That's why I signed you, okay?“

I nodded, “You're right. Besides... If I don't believe in myself who will, right?“

Natalie smiled, “See, you are a great actress.“

I looked at her confused, “what?“

“Well... even though you're down on your luck and you don't believe a word you just said, you still had me convinced.“

I smiled at her, “Thanks, Natalie.“

I was right about her being able to make me feel better and giving me the pep talk I needed because she did. She was definitely the best agent I could have ever asked for and I was glad to be signed to her.

“Alright. You go home and get some rest and I'm gonna get you out for a commercial audition on Friday at two in Studio City, okay?“

“Oh, I can't. I'm going back home for a bridal shower, remember?“ “Yes, you're maid of honor at your best friend's wedding, right?“

I nod, “The honor is all mine.“

“Well, it'll be good for you to get away and not think about auditions and Hollywood for a while. Go and have some fun.“

I smiled and got up from my seat, before walking towards the door. “Oh and (Y/N)?“

I turned around, looking back at her. “Life is a movie if you let it be. I know.“

Natalie smiled at me. “Alright, go and have some fun. Bye, honey.“

“Bye.“ I waved at her before leaving her office and walking back to my car. ****

I was working my early shift at the café that paid for most of my bills while trying to clear my head from yesterday's events. I still couldn't believe that I lost my first ever movie role because of some stupid mistake I made. I know Natalie told me that losing my role wasn't the end of the world or my career, but it definitely still hurt. I let out a breath and pushed all these thoughts away and focused back on my shift.

“Can I get you anything else?“ I asked the couple that seemed to be out on a date, after serving them some coffee.

“No, I think we're good.“ The boy answered, smiling at me. I nodded and walked over to the next table to take a new order when I saw that Noah Centineo was the one sitting there.

“Uh... Noah.“

He was staring at his phone and looked up once he saw me standing in front of him. He seemed to recognize me immediately and forced a small smile at me, “Hi.“

“Uhm... Hi.“ I replied, looking at him.

“You know, I... uh... think I came to the wrong place.“ He said before getting up from his seat and walking right out the door.

I put the coffeepot down on the table and looked at my co-worker Melody. “Hey, Mel, can you watch my tables for a second?“ She nodded and I followed Noah outside, where he was talking to someone on the phone.

“Yeah, the menu here isn't so great. We could get some take out.“ I heard him say into the phone. “Okay, bye.“ He ended the call and put his phone back inside his pocket.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and cleared my throat. Noah turned around and glanced back at me.

“You didn't even look at the menu.“ I said, raising my brows at him.

“I just didn't think my publicist would like it here, so.“ He defended himself while fidgeting around with his hands.

“What? You thought I was gonna pour a cup of coffee in your lap again? I'm not an idiot you know? I wait tables for a living.“ I knew how pathetic my statement sounded after what happened yesterday on set, but I needed to put him in his place. Just because he was a Hollywood star, didn't mean he had the right to be a jerk to everyone around him.

“Really?“ He asked, raising his brows at me.

“What exactly are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be brunching at the Ivy with some Teen Choice Award winners or something?“ I asked, a hint of annoyance in my voice.

“Uh...I don't even know your name so why are you even mad at me? Besides, you're the one who set our shoot back two hours.“ Noah said, giving me a reproachful glance.

“Seriously? Why does no one blame the prop master for not doing his job?“ I asked, throwing my arms in the air defensively.

“Checking your props is practically acting class 101.“ He commented, running a hand through his curly hair.

“Oh, yeah? Since when?“

“Since always. I don't know that doesn't really change.“

I shook my head, laughing. “Great. I'm getting acting advice from a Disney Channel star.“

“You watched Austin & Ally?“ He asked, sounding a little surprised.

I shrugged my shoulders, “Everyone our age did.“

Noah laughed and pointed a finger at me, “You had a crush on me, didn't you? Come on, admit it, you thought I was cool.“

Now he was really taking it too far. Who did this guy think he was? I don’t think I've ever met someone in my life, who was so full of crap and I seriously had no idea what everyone else loved so much about him. Noah Centineo was an asshole who clearly only cared about himself and his career.

“I have to get back to work.“ I said, turning away from him.

“Okay, but just remember... coffee is better in a cup than on your shirt.“

I decided to ignore his comment and just glared back at him.

“I'm joking, girl. It was just a joke.“ Before he had the chance to say anything else, I walked back inside the café, slamming the door behind me.

I grabbed the coffeepot from the table and walked behind the counter.

“Uh excuse me. Was that Noah Centineo you just talked to?“ Melody asked, looking at me. I nodded my head, “Yeah... the one and only.“

“Okay, wow. He sure is hella dreamy.“ She gushed, making me roll my eyes. “Yeah and he knows it. Gosh, that guy is so full of himself it's almost pathetic.“

She stared at me for a minute before saying, “Uh huh. You clearly are just saying that to cover up the fact that you two are actually a thing.“

I immediately shook my head, feeling a little offended by her assumption. “Ew, no, what the hell. That's definitely not the case. Why would you even say that?“ I asked, looking back at her.

“Because of this pic, I saw online.“ She said, grabbing her phone.

“What pic?“

“The one of you and Noah leaving some VIP lounge in Hollywood.“

“I can assure you that it definitely wasn't me.“

“Okay.“ She said, clearly not believing me.

“It wasn't, I swear. Why would you even think it was me?“

She pulled out a picture and showed it to me.

“I don't know. I mean you can't see her face but she has the same hair as you.“

I glanced at it for a second and shook my head, “It's not me.“ I said before walking into the kitchen to make some new coffee. Once I finished my shift and got back home I immediately called my best friend Emily, who's bridal shower I was going to tomorrow. We both talked for a while and I poured my heart out to her, telling her about the last couple of days. She always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better and of course she did this time too.

Although I did get some bad news from her as well. Because I was so busy with going to auditions and focusing on my acting career she decided to change my title from 'maid of honor' to 'co-maid of honor'.

The actual maid of honor now was our friend Ashley, who organized the bridal shower and also most of the wedding next weekend. Even though I'd been fired as the maid of honor, I still looked forward to going back home to Conway. It would be good for me to leave Los Angeles for a while and to focus on my friends and family back at home. I was excited to see them and hoped that it would distract me from all of the madness in my life.

****

After a long flight and a two-hour drive, I finally arrived at my best friend's house where she held her bridal shower.

I parked my car and knocked at the door. When no one answered, I checked if the door was unlocked and when it was I entered the house.

I walked through the familiar place until I reached the backyard where a lot of people were already waiting. I saw all of my friends gathered at a table and smiled.

“You guys seriously started without me?“ I asked, walking towards the table they were sitting at. My friends Ashley and Jane squeaked before running over to greet me. Emily followed them with a big smile on her face.

Ashley and Jane both looked me up and down once we pulled apart from the hugs.

“Oh my gosh, that color looks so good on you! And the L.A. weather must be good to you too because you're tanned as hell!“ Jane said and Ashley nodded.

“You look so hot, girl. Come on, let's take a selfie for Instagram.“ Ashley pulled out her phone and held it in front of our faces. I smiled at the camera and we took a couple selfies before both of them started asking me question after question.

“Oh my gosh, I heard you're filming a movie with Noah Centineo! The Noah Centineo. Is that really true?“

“Yes, is he as hot as he is in person? Is he tall and oh my gosh did you touch his hair?“

“Yeah, did you? What does he smell like? Are his eyes really that sparkly?“

I let out a breath, feeling a little overwhelmed about this whole situation. I loved my friends a lot, I really did, but they were really hard to be around sometimes.

“So... the maid of honor has finally arrived.“ Emily said, saving me from this crazy situation.

Ashley cleared her throat, looking at Emily. “I mean co-maid of honor.“ She corrected herself, smiling at us.

“I'm just teasing, (Y/N). When you're here, I want you to do everything you can. And when you're not, I just wanna help out.“ Ashley said, smiling at me.

I smiled back at her. “Thanks, Ash. I think it's really sweet of you to help out while I'm stuck in L.A.“ She nodded before she and Jane disappeared to grab some champagne.

Emily walked over to me and hugged me. “It's good to finally see you, (Y/N).“ She said once we pulled apart from each other.

I nodded and linked my arm with hers, “It's so good to be home. I missed you guys so much.“

“and we missed you.“ She smiled at me before we walked back to the table.

“By the way, I didn't tell anybody that you got fired.“

“Thank you. I really don't feel like talking about it.“

“I know and you're welcome.“

We sat down at the table and waited for the others to arrive. Once everyone was there, we raised our glasses in a toast to officially celebrate Emily's bridal shower.

“So, how's Los Angeles, dear?“ Allison, Emily's mother, asked me

. “It's good. I'm going to lot's of auditions and also work at this cute coffee shop. I really like it there.“ I answered, looking at her.

She smiled at me before Jane asked me another question. “So... is Noah Centineo really that tall? Or just kinda tall?“

I sighed, “No more questions about Noah, okay? Today is all about Emily.“ I looked over to my best friend and smiled.

She nodded her head and smiled back at me. “Yeah, (Y/N)'s right. Today's all about me. You guys know that I love being the center of attention.“

We all laughed at her comment before we moved on to open her gifts.

While Emily was opening her presents I went back inside the house to grab some more champagne for us, when I ran into Jake, Emily's fiancé. He was six years older than all of us which we often liked to tease him about.

“Hey, grandpa.“ I said, waving at him. Luckily he was a cool guy and immediately played along.

“(Y/N?) Is that you?“ He asked, doing a terrible grandpa voice.

I laughed and pulled him into a hug. “It's good to see you, Jake. Congrats.“ I smiled at him.

“Thank you. And thank you for flying all the way in from Los Angeles. I know it means the world to Emily.“

I nodded and grabbed the bottle of champagne before going back outside. Jake followed me and I stopped in my tracks to look at him.

“Uh, since when does the groom join the bridal shower?“ I asked, raising my brows at him.

“Since the groom's poker tournament ended two hours ago.“ Jake said before making his way outside. I shook my head laughing before following him.

On my way out I ran into Dylan, my childhood crush and best friend for years. I barely recognized him. He lost so much weight since the last time we saw each other and looked even better than I remembered him.

“Dylan, oh my gosh, I didn't even recognize you.“ He smiled and pulled me into a hug.

“Hey, (Y/N). I missed you.“ Dylan said once we pulled apart from each other.

I looked him up and down, a proud smile on my face. “You look great. How much weight did you lose? I mean you look... wow.“

I blushed a little and Dylan laughed. “It's okay, (Y/N). You can ask.“

“How much weight did you lose?“ I asked again.

“58 pounds.“

My eyes widened. “Wow, that's incredible. When did this all happen? I mean the last time I saw you was barely a year ago.“

Dylan nodded, “Yeah, I know. It happened after grad school. I took spring break off, got a personal trainer and been focusing on my body ever since.“ He explained while we walked back inside to sit down at a table.

“and what are you doing now?“ I asked, looking at him.

“I'm a project manager at a tech firm near the beach.“ He replied.

“Wow, that's amazing. Congrats. I didn't know you moved back here.“

“I didn't. I'm close though. I visit on and off. I got back here for Jake's poker tournament which didn't go too well for him.“ Dylan laughed and I joined him.

“Yeah, he's awful at poker. My grandma plays better than him.“ I joked and Dylan laughed again.

“I destroyed him. But anyway, what about you? How's L.A. treating you?“ He asked, looking at me.

“It's good. You know... dreams don't disappear.“

Dylan nodded, “Yeah, they don't. You know what does though? People.“

“Ouch, was that directed to me?“ I asked but he shook his head. “No, of course not. I just... missed you a lot.“

“I missed you too, Dylan. But you were the one that ran off to Atlanta for college, remember?“

He sighed, “Yeah, but that's still a closer drive back home than from Los Angeles.“

Before we could continue with our conversation, Ashley walked in and joined us at the table. She kissed Dylan on the cheek and sat next to him.

“Now I know what was taking so long for you to get that champagne.“

Ashley said, looking at me. “Did you two have some time to catch up?“ She asked and Dylan nodded.

“So... how long have you two been together?“ I asked looking at them.

“Two months.“ Both of them said and I nodded.

“Well... I'm happy for you guys.“

Ashley smiled, “Thanks. So babe, are you ready to go home?“

Dylan looked at her confused, “I thought we'd stay a little longer. I haven't seen (Y/N) in a while. It'd be nice to you know... talk a little more.“

“Okay, sure. Let's go back outside then.“ She said, getting up from her seat.

I could tell how jealous she was and that she didn't like how close I and Dylan still were. I didn't really blame her though. Dylan and I had a lot of history together. At some point in our lives, we both had feelings for each other. Things got really complicated between us though, which ultimately lead to the end of our friendship. Thankfully a lot of time has passed since then and we're now back at being friends.

“Yeah, let's go.“ Dylan said before getting up from his seat. I followed him and the three of us went back outside.

It had gotten dark outside when we joined the others and most people had already left the bridal shower. Ashley, Jane, Jackson, Dylan, Emily and I were the only ones left and we all gathered around at a table.

“(Y/N), you have to tell us. Have you been dating any celebrities?“ Jane asked, clearly a little tipsy from all the champagne and wine she'd been drinking all day.

“Not really. There were a couple of guys I really liked but they all ended up being total psychos so nope, no dating. Especially no one famous.“

“What about that director guy Zeke?“ Ashley asked but Jane shook her head,“No, we hate that guy. He dumped her on her birthday.“

“He didn't really know that it was my birthday, but whatever. That was a lifetime ago. Besides, I just wanna focus on my career right now. So it's fine.“ “Well, that's a good thing.“ Dylan commented.

“Yeah, but that's all by choice, right? Of course, all the guys adore her out there.“ Emily said, smiling at me. “and I totally respect that you wanna focus on your career. That takes a lot of dedication.“

“It sounds like it's paying off though. I mean with this big movie role and all.“ Ashley added, looking at me.

“Wait, you booked a movie? That's awesome! Congrats, (Y/N).“ Dylan said, sounding all proud.

“When does it come out?“ Dylan asked curiously.

“I don't know. My scene might get cut anyways.“

“Wait, why would your scene get cut? I mean don't they need you in the film? I thought you were like a lead character.“

“I wouldn't say that, exactly.“ I responded, looking back at Ashley who was the one asking me all these questions.

“You guys it's complicated. You know she has to sign like a non-disclosure deal and all that stuff. She isn't really allowed to talk about it.“ Emily chimed in, saving me once again.

“Yeah, she's right.“ I said, mouthing a 'thank you' at her.

Jane's phone beeped and she immediately started squeaking. “Oh my gosh... no way. That's you, (Y/N)!“ She said, showing me a picture on her phone.

It was the same picture Melody showed me the other day of Noah Centineo and some girl leaving a VIP lounge in Hollywood.

She showed the picture around the table. “She's the mystery girl! The one that's been kissing Noah Centineo.“ Jane said and Ashley looked at me.

“You said you worked with Noah?“

“Yeah, I did.“

“So you guys are more than co-workers then?“

“Yeah... are you?“

Everyone had so many questions about me and Noah which made me a little uncomfortable. I felt like I was being interrogated by the police or something.

“I wouldn't really say that.“ I replied, looking back at them.

“Then... do you even know him?“ Ashley questioned, raising her brows at me.

“Yeah, I do. He just showed up at my work yesterday.“

“Then it is true! You're dating Noah Centineo!“ Jane laughed, nudging my shoulder.

I didn't really know what to do. Everyone was staring at me and I felt really pressured which is why I said, “Yeah. It's true. It's all true.“

“I just want to know if he's coming to the wedding because I want him to sign my bridesmaid's dress.“

“Oh, really?“ Emily asked, giving her a weird look.

“I don't know what the big deal is. It's not like I'm gonna wear it again.“

I shook my head, “No, he's not gonna come to the wedding.“

“Oh, he isn't? Why not?“ Ashley asked curiously.

“Because no one knows yet. It's a publicity thing, you know. So you guys can't say anything.“

“About what?“ A familiar voice asked, causing me to turn around. My parents were standing behind me and I immediately got up from my seat to greet them.

“Mrs. (Y/L/N), you didn't tell us your little girl was dating Noah Centineo.“ Ashley said, looking at my mom.

“Well... I... I didn't know.“ My mother said, looking at me surprised.

“Uh, hi mom. Dad.“

“Who's Noah Centineo?“ My dad asked, confused.

“Oh don't worry, honey. He's a cutie.“ Mom said, patting his shoulder.

“What are you guys doing here?“ I asked, looking back at them.

“We were just driving by and we didn't really know if you had a ride home or not.“ My mom answered.

“You're staying with us, right?“

“Yeah, but my stuff is in the car. I can meet you guys at home, though?“

“No, we can hang. Can't we?“ “No, you know what? I'm exhausted. Let's go.“

“Sure, honey,“ Dad replied before he and mom turned around to go back to their car.

I waved at my friends before walking towards the house. Once I got inside I saw that Emily was already waiting for me.

“So, is it true? About Noah?“ She asked, looking at me with questioning eyes.

“Of course it is, why would I lie?“

“Maybe because you don't want any of them to know you got fired from your job? Look, (Y/N), it's okay if you're struggling. I promise you all of them will understand.“

“It's just like I said. I can't say anything.“ I felt awful about lying to my best friend, but I was already too caught up in all the lies.

Besides, she would never find out the truth anyway. After I leave Conway and get back to L.A. this whole story won't be relevant anymore. No one's going to talk about it and I won't have to worry about explaining myself to my family or my friends.

“Okay, fine. I just don't understand why you wouldn't have told me.“

“Yeah and you could have told me about Dylan and Ashley too, you know.“ I said, looking at her reproachfully.

Emily sighed, “I just didn't know how to tell you. They started dating when he got back and I didn't even think it would last in the first place.“

“It's fine. It's just kind of weird, you know? Ashley used to make so much fun of him back in school.“

“Yeah, but he's a lot different than he was in school.“

“I guess. I mean he looks great.“

“Yeah. But so does Mr. Noah Centineo.“ Emily said, wiggling her brows at me.

“I'm so sorry about how all of that came up. Today really should have been about you and not me.“

“It's okay. I'm just glad that you came.“

“Yeah, me too.“

“Hey, but no more secrets, okay?“ Emily looked at me.

I nodded, “okay. No more secrets.“

I felt horrible. I know I had to tell her the truth, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I kind of liked that everyone thought I was Noah Centineo's mysterious girlfriend, even though it wasn't true. It just felt really good to have this kind of attention from everyone which makes me feel even worse about lying to all of them.

“Anyway, I have to go now. Bye. See you soon.“ I said, waving at Emily before grabbing my bag and leaving her house.

****

I woke up the next morning with some surprising news. Apparently, the whole internet world was talking about me and Noah Centineo, which I knew was Ashley and Jane's fault.

Everyone assumed that I was Noah's secret girlfriend and even pictures with my face were going around the internet. Some newspapers and magazines even talked about it. So of course when I landed back in Los Angeles people were going crazy. Paparazzi were following me everywhere and even a few girls approached me and asked for a picture.

It was insane. Of course, I wanted to be famous and always dreamed about being in magazines and newspapers, but not like this. I didn't want to be famous because of a celebrity I supposedly dated. Especially if that celebrity was Noah Centineo. It was my own fault that all of this was happening though. I never should have lied about being with him in the first place. I mean I didn't really lie, it was more like a misunderstanding that lead to a lie, but still. It was what got me into this mess. A mess I didn't really know how to get out of. A few days had passed since I got back and people were still talking about me and Noah. I was working my morning shift at the café. Almost everything seemed normal, except for the fact that a lot of paparazzi were gathered outside, taking pictures of me.

“All the paparazzi sure love you a lot.“ Melody said, looking out the window.

“Yeah, try to go to an audition at 8 am with three cars chasing after you.“

“Ohh, poor you.“ She said, rolling her eyes. “You said you two weren't dating though?“

“No, we're not. This whole thing was just a big misunderstanding. Noah Centineo wants nothing to do with me.“

“Then why is he here?“ Melody asked, pointing towards the door. I followed her gaze and saw Noah, who had just entered the café.

“Oh no.“ I said, walking over to him.

His arms were crossed in front of his chest while he was staring back at me.

“Noah, I'm so sorry about everything. I swear I didn't tell anyone we had a thing it was just a huge misunderstanding.“ I explained, looking at him.

“But you did tell people it was you in the picture?

“No...“

He raised his brows at me.

“Well yes, I mean not really. Look, they all said it was me and I just didn't tell them no. I went home for a bridal shower last weekend.“

“Ugh, bridal shower. You're the bridesmaid?“

I nodded.

“Yeah... those can be pretty rough,“ Noah said, hiding his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, tell me about it.“ I replied, thinking back at how crazy the bridal shower had been before adding, “look, I just didn't want to tell them I got fired, okay?“

“So you told people we were together instead?“ He asked, giving me a weird look.

I sighed, “You don't know these girls. They create fantasies in their heads.“

“Well, it clearly looks like they're not the only ones.“ He glanced at me.

“Hey, if you want me to go out there and tell everyone it was a lie, I'll do it.“ I said, pointing outside to the paparazzi.

Noah put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me over to one of the tables.

“Actually... there's something I need your help with.“

“My help with what?“ I asked once we sat down at the table.

“I was kind of hoping we could break up. In public.“

I looked at him confused, “Break up? Why?“

“No one can know who was really with me in the photo that night so I kinda need people to keep thinking it was you.“

“Who is it?“ I asked curiously.

“It's complicated. If people find out I was dating this woman it could ruin both of our careers.“ He explained.

“Well, you didn't really seem to care about helping me save mine.“

“You didn't ask.“

I rolled my eyes at that.

“But I am. I'm asking for your help here. Besides, this looks like it might be pretty good press for you.“ Noah looked over his shoulder and pointed over to the window where all of the paparazzi were taking pictures of us.

“It's not the kind of press I'm looking for. If I actually get famous I want it to be because I played the perfect part and not because I was the chick dumped by Noah Centineo in public.“

“Well... what do you want then? Money?“

“No. I'm not gonna lie for money.“

“It's not lying, it's acting. Besides, you didn't have a problem lying to your friends back home.“

I sighed. He had a good point.

“Alright, just tell me. What do you want?“

“We have to break up in a way where neither of us gets humiliated.“

Noah nodded, “Yeah, I completely agree. But we need to do it fast. Like this weekend fast.“

“I'm not around this weekend.“

“This can't wait. In my experience, these things get out of hand pretty quick.“

“You know, this is perfect actually. You wanna do it this weekend? Then you come with me to a wedding.“

Noah shook his head, “No. Definitely not. No way. No.“

“This is the least you can do, Centineo,“ I said, looking at him.

Noah sighed, “Okay, fine.“

I grabbed a napkin and wrote down the details for the flight he had to book.

“So here's the flight you have to book. And you also have to promise not to embarrass me, okay?“ I said, before handing him the napkin.

“Pretty sure you'll be able to do that on your own, (Y/N).“ Noah said as we both got up from our seats.

I reached out my hand and Noah took it, giving it a gentle shake. When he reached over to shake my hand, the napkin I gave him earlier, fell down to the floor. I reached down to get it but Noah held me back. “I got it.“ He knelt and grabbed it.

As he was kneeling, people immediately started clapping while all of their eyes were focused on us. Oh no, this can't be happening, I thought to myself as I looked at everyone's reaction.

Noah immediately got back up and looked at me. “Okay. No more dropping things.“

“Woah... that got crazy fast.“ I said, feeling a little overwhelmed about this whole situation.

People were still clapping, some of them even cheering loudly.

“Okay, so this weekend?“ He asked and I nodded. He then wrapped his arm around me and smiled, “We're getting married!“

I immediately jumped into character and smiled as well. “Yes. This is the happiest day of my life.“

“Nice.“ Noah whispered before kissing me on the cheek. We posed for the cameras and acted like the happy newly engaged couple for a while until Noah had to leave.

I didn't really know what was going to happen this weekend. The plan was that Noah Centineo, who was now my fake fiancé, and I had to somehow convince my friends and family that we were actually together, before publically breaking up with each other. I knew how crazy this whole plan was, but at least it was going to be a weekend nobody would ever forget.

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